Date: Tue, 13 Jun 2000 14:09:43 -0700
From: Dayse Craze <msjingles@angelfire.com>
Subject: "Superman Can't Fly" part 2

Disclaimer:  This is a work of fiction, the characters and
situations portrayed do not in any way reflect reality.
Well, Anthony Pazzari is mine, but I don't really want him
<g>  I do not know of NSYNC's sexual preferences, nor the
sexual preferences of any other recognizable characters that
might be mentioned.

Warning:  contains m/m situations, please don't read it if
it makes you uncomfortable and/or wiggy.  So far, other then
the occasional curse word there is nothing of any graphic
content, sorry guys and girls :) - But that will probably
change ;)  Consider this an "R" rating, movie wise.

Thanks:  To all those who e-mailed me, wow!  Who would of
thought that I'd get a response like yours.  That's so nice
of you, thank you, thank you, thank you :)

And, to a group of people who will never read this - Thanks
to Nsync.  You're Nspiring :)  I know, I know....we've all
done the cheesy puns, I promise no more :)


================================
Superman Can't Fly - part 2
by Dayse
================================


Someone was knocking softly at the door, a light tap, tap, tap
that was distinctively JC's knock.  Joey sniffled and turned
over on his bed, facing the wall.

"Go away."

"I'm not doing that, Joe," came a muffled reply.  "So you might
as well talk to me."

He buried his face in his pillow, curled his legs up slightly
towards him, "I don't want to talk, Josh."

There was a sound of the door opening and shutting softly, and
then the desk lamp turned on with a light *click*, bathing the
room in a soft, buttery glow.

Half-glancing over his shoulder, Joey sniffed again, felt his
brow furrow with half-hearted anger, "Didn't I tell you to go
away?  Who said you could come in here?"

"Unlike vampires, I don't have to be invited," JC said, coming
to sit on the bed and lean against the headboard.  He looked
down at the huddled form of his friend, not much more then a
dark shadow with glowing red hair.  "So, are you going to tell
me what's wrong?"

"This again?  I already went through this with Lance, I - "

"Forgetting for a moment the shitty way you treated Lance," JC
interrupted, "let me also point out that I'm not him, and that
whatever you say to me won't leave this room."

Joey bit his lip, closed his eyes.  When a hand landed gently
on his shoulder, reassuring and safe, he sighed.  "You don't
have to be so nice to me."

"Yeah, but I'm just a swell guy.  So why don't you take
advantage of that and lay it on me.  What's the deal with this
Lex Luther dude?"

Almost laughing at that, Joey smiled, "'Lex Luther'?"

"Heh, yeah.  Um, that's what Chris has been calling him, I guess
it sorta caught on."  JC nudged him, "But don't change the
subject."

Still not looking at his friend, Joey stared at the wall and
concentrated on the feeling of JC's hand.  He hoped he wouldn't
pull it away.  "It doesn't leave this room?"

"No," JC said firmly.  "I swear, man."

"Okay."  Joey rolled over onto his back so that JC could see his
face as he spoke, he didn't want to hide anything more.  Watching
him carefully, Joey saw only concern and compassion in his eyes,
and felt warmed by it.  "But you'll probably think differently of
me after."  Joey closed his eyes briefly before opening them again,
"You might hate me."

JC shook his head, "Never.  Joe, if you want me to help dismember
and bury the body, I'll do it.  If you want me to shove the car
over the cliff, I'm in.  If you want a kidney, a heart, or a
testicle, I'm there for ya.  Well, maybe not a testicle, I don't
like you _that_ much."

Joey laughed and JC had a sudden sensation of a weight being lifted
off his shoulders.  If he could still laugh, then it couldn't be
_too_ bad.

Then his expression grew serious and JC nodded for him to go on.

"I didn't lie about Anthony being from my old neighborhood, he is.
In fact we went to the same elementary and highschool.  He was a
decent guy, didn't know him that well, him being older and involved
with a different crowd.  But I'd see him around the neighborhood
and stuff."  Joey took a breath and his voice took on an edge as he
continued.

"Back then he went with this girl Sonya.  Sonya...Policelli.  She
was okay looking, maybe a four or five on a one to ten scale.  She
was only a couple of years older then me, and I'd talk to her now
and again.  She had a tendency to ramble, was kind of self-involved.
Really, not my type...

"Well, one day Anthony got in his head to pick on a buddy of mine.
Bloodied his nose and broke his arm for his wallet.  I'm pretty sure
my friend had provoked him somehow, but I was still kinda mad.  I
wanted to get back at him somehow, but I didn't know what I could do.
I'm not as big as I am now, I was just some pip-squeak who took CHOIR
for Christ's sake, so I had to think of another way.

"It was my friend's idea to go after Sonya.  Steal her away from
Anthony and rub it in real good.  It'd humiliate and hurt him," Joey's
face went blank, his eyes heavy with shame, "If I'd known...If I knew,
I wouldn't of done it.  I - just would of let it go, maybe keyed his
car or something, but - "  His voice started to waver and Joey brought
his hand up to cover his face, trying to cover his tears from the other
man.

JC rubbed his arm soothingly and brought his arm around Joey's
shoulders to give him an encouraging hug.

"Sonya was pregnant," Joey said, wiping his face and sniffling.  "Two
months or so along and scared to death.  She hadn't told her parents,
they would of killed her, she was only about 18, 19 years old.  But
Anthony knew, and he had said he was going to marry her as soon as she
graduated highschool.

"Then I came along.

"Fuck, Josh, I ruined everything.  I was this arrogant, 16 year old
piece of shit who thought he was just playing a game, and I ended up
ruining two, maybe three lives.  When Anthony found out that Sonya had
been cheating, he smacked her around and told her never to show her
face around him again.  She left town the next day and no one ever
heard from her again.  She could be dead for all anybody knows."

JC took a breath, "And...and why is Anthony suddenly coming around here
now?"

Joey looked up at him with tear filled eyes, "Don't you get it?  I took
away his whole future.  His girlfriend, the woman he was going to marry,
his unborn child.  I OWE HIM a whole LIFE.  And he's here to collect."
Joey wiped his nose and let the tears fall, "And I deserve it.  I
deserve everything he decides to take or to dish out.  It and _more_.  I
can't believe I'd almost forgotten, that I - God, I'm such a bastard."

Holding him closer against his chest, JC set his jaw and shook his head.
"No, no way, Joe.  You are a good person, you just made a mistake.
There's no way you could of known all that stuff.  And besides, no one
made HER cheat."  He stroked Joey's hair, "And where the hell does that
bastard get off hitting a pregnant woman?  You probably did her a favour,
getting her away from him.  He sounds like bad news."

Not answering, Joey just closed his eyes and slumped against JC's chest.
He felt...drained.  But at the same time relieved.  He had finally told
somebody and it hadn't been as terrible as he had thought it would be.
JC wasn't going anywhere, and he wasn't disgusted with him.

At least, he didn't think he was.  Joey opened his eyes and looked up at
his friend, searching his face through the dim lighting of the room.  At
least, he didn't think he was.

"Thanks, Josh," Joey said softly, "I do feel better.  If not like a
complete and utter pussy.  Crying in your lap like this, making a total
ass of myself."  Still, he made no move to get up and JC did not
relinquish his hold.

"So what are you going to do?" JC said, his voice uncertain.  "You're not
going to continue to do whatever this guy wants, are you?"

"We're only in Florida for a couple of more days," Joey reminded, "we
have the concert tomorrow and a few appearances after that.  It's not as
if he's going to follow us on tour, I can deal.  I _do_ owe him, Josh, so
please?  Don't interfere?"

He didn't like it.  Not one bit.  Joe's jaw was swollen and blue, his
voice pained with guilt, but Joey's pleading look would not allow him to
give any other answer then "yes".

Noticeably relieved, Joey nodded and brought his arm up behind JC's neck.
"Thanks, man," he said, pulling him down for a kiss against his forehead,
"I appreciate it."  A groan, "I should go apologize to Lance.  I was an
asshole and he was just trying to help me."

Disappointed when Joey's heavy, warm weight left his lap, JC held back his
frown and nodded, "Alright, if you want to.  I know Lance understands
though, he was just worried like the rest of us."

"That does _not_ make me feel better," Joey said with a small smile.
"Maybe I should go down to the restaurant and get some French Toast.  A
peace offering?"

JC smirked and got to his feet, "If you do that Lance may just decide to
date you."

Joey laughed at that and JC smiled happily.  But then a thought occurred
to him and he grew serious once again, "Uh, Joe - there is one more thing
I want to ask you before you go.  If I'm out of line, go ahead and tell me,
but...well, I just kinda want to know."

Pulling on his pants over his boxers, Joey cocked his head to one side as
he hopped over to the light switch, "Sure, Josh, what do you want to know?"

"Areyougay?"

"Excuse me?" Joey laughed as he buttoned his jeans and turned on the light,
"You want to run that by me at a speed understandable to the human ear?"

He was starting to regret ever asking, this was really uncomfortable.  "Are
you, you know...gay?"  The last word came out softer then the others and JC
held his breath as he waited for Joey to respond.  He only hoped that it
would not come in the form of a fist flying towards his face.

There seemed to be genuine contemplation on his face as Joey considered the
question, his eyes distant as he looped a belt through his pants.  "Uh, no,
no I'm not."

JC raised an eyebrow, "Bisexual?"

Smirking, Joey just shook his head and started to pull on socks, "Josh, guy,
why you asking me all these questions?  What does it matter?"

"It doesn't!" JC quickly said, "I - it's just - "

Genuinely confused Joey straightened and frowned, "What?  It's just what?"

"Well, you come on a little strong sometimes, and ... it's not as if any of
us _would_ have a problem with it, but since we're so close and all, you
should be able to tell us these things, and it shouldn't matter but it kind
of does, and - " As JC babbled and gestured helplessly as he talked, he got
the sudden mental image of a man digging himself deeper and deeper.  He
quickly shut his mouth and buried his face in his hand, "Forget it.  Go.
I'm an idiot."

JC heard Joey chuckling gently again and he looked up just as Joey
pulled him into a hug, his arms encircling him around the waist and
pulling him in close and intimate.  When he pulled back he spoke
slowly and carefully, very unlike the fast paced, impulsive way he
usually did.

"Josh, you are one of my best friends.  Right now?  You probably
helped me through one of the biggest downs of my life, I don't think
I could of risen up out of it if you hadn't come in here.  Look at me,
I feel better, thanks to _you_.  You're a great friend, you're a great
guy, and I can honestly say I love you."  JC turned red at the words
and ducked his head but Joey just put his hands on either side of his
face and pulled him up, he was smiling.

"No, man, look at me.  Do I look embarrassed?  Am I stuttering?
Posturing?  Am I pulling your leg?" JC shook his head.  No, Joey was
dead serious all right.  "I know it's not something that guys say to
each other," Joey continued, "And I just about never do say it.  So
when I do, I mean it in every way I can."  He took a breath, "So,
consider that.  Consider what I said to you, and now consider this."
He kissed him.  It was a soft, closed mouth kiss against his own lips
and it lingered longer then any Joey had given him before.  It made
him incredibly aware of his own body, of Joey's body, and he closed
his eyes.

Joey pulled away, let go, and took a step back.  "Take that any way
you want to, man," he said and smiled.  "Now, I got some major butt-
kissing to do, so if you'll excuse me..."  He tossed his hand off in
a good-night and walked out of the room.

It was only when the door closed that JC realized he never had gotten
a real answer.  "Ambiguous bastard."








"WHAT?!"

Joey gulped.  _Not_ a good start.  "Er, it's me, Lance.  Come on, open
the door, I wanna apologize."

There was a pause on the other side, then, "Fine.  Go ahead."

"I can't do it like this, man, come _on_, open the door."  He cast an
uneasy look over his shoulder as a couple walked to the elevator,
"People are staring."

Lance looked through the people and nearly giggled at the sight of
Joey's unproportioned head, but then remembered he was suppose to be
mad at him.  "Let 'em stare, it don't effect me none."

Watching as Joey tensed, Lance cursed to himself.  Uh oh.  Tactical
error!  Shields up, red alert!

There was a long silence in which time Joey seemed to just stand in
the hall, doing nothing.

"Maybe he's giving up," Lance muttered to himself.

No such luck.  Soon, a group of four men and women came out of
connecting hotel rooms and headed for the elevators, talking casually
amongst themselves.

Joey seemed to cast a look right at Lance that said, 'Don't say I
didn't warn you.'

Falling to his knees in a dramatic fashion Joey opened his mouth and
screamed, "LAAAAAAANCE!  TAKE ME BACK, BABY!!  I CAN CHANGE, I CAN
CHANGE!"

The four people turned and froze, watching with open mouths and wide
eyes.

Joey was beating the door, balling hysterically, "I SWEAR HE MEANT
NOTHING TO ME, IT'S YOU I LOVE!  GIVE ME A SECOND CHANCE, YOU
COMPLETE MEEEEEE!"

Unable to take anymore, and knowing that if Joey stayed out there
any longer they would be on every tabloid in the city, Lance
quickly opened the door and pulled the other man in by his t-shirt.
He poked his head out and smiled at the couples, "Heh heh heh, he's
just kidding, folks.  Have a good night."

Lance closed the door behind him and slumped against it, found
himself looking into Joey's somewhat apologetic, somewhat amused
eyes.  "You know, you apologize worse then anyone I know."

"I haven't started yet," Joey said, his smile tentative, "I'll get
better, but I had to get in your door first."  Biting his lip, Joey
reached into his jacket and pulled out a Styrofoam container,
"Brought you something..."

Looking at the package suspiciously, upset because he knew that
whatever was inside would probably stop making him mad, Lance
took it from Joey's hand and popped the container.

Damn.

"No fair," Lance said, struggling not to smile, "I wanted to stay mad
at you."

Joey's face brightened, "So you're not?  Mad, I mean?"

"Joe, I couldn't stay mad at you if I tried.  I know 'cause I've been
sitting here _trying_ for the past coupla hours."  Lance frowned,
stared down at the stack of french toast in the container, "I'm more
worried, that's all.  Who _was_ that guy, Joe?  And why the fuck did
you let him into your room?"

"That's a very long story that I don't have the energy to get into
again tonight.  Ask JC 'bout if you really want to know, he'll tell
ya."

"JC knows?" Lance said, hurt.  "You could tell him, but you couldn't
tell me?"

Joey quickly back-tracked, "No, man, no...it's just...you're timing
sucked, you know?  I wasn't in the mood to talk then, and I was
pretty messed from seeing Tony again, too.  But JC came into my room
later, and he sorta pried it out of me."  He paused, and inclined his
head towards the couch.  Lance nodded and both moved to sit across
from each other.

"I want you to know how much I appreciate what you did for me back
there tonight, man, it really does mean a lot.  I mean, you jumped a
guy twice MY size because you were trying to help me out.  That's
amazing."

"You'd do the same for me," Lance said, reaching out to briefly
touch Joey's shoulder.  Then, with a slightly sinister grin, whacked
him hard in the chest, causing the other man to double over.
"That's payback for pushing me, asshole."

When Joey didn't get up, Lance's grin faded and he touched his back
nervously, "Hey, come on, Joe, I didn't hit you that hard..."

Hands clenched against the material of the couch, Joey finally
looked up, the colour in his face red and hectic, he seemed to be
gasping for air.

"JOE?!"

"Chill, Lance, relax..." Joey managed to gasp, "Oh fuck...it wasn't
you, damn it that fucking hurts."  Clutching at his chest now, Joey
concentrated on taking deep breaths and slowly the pain ebbed to a
dull throb.

"What the hell..." Lance's stare bore hard into Joey's eyes, "Let
me see, Joe."

"I - "

Lance pulled at the hem of Joey's shirt, "Let me see your goddamn
chest!"

Realizing that this was an argument he was not going to win, Joey
flinched and obediently lifted up his shirt, folding them around
his elbows.  "It's not as bad as it probably looks," he said lamely.

"Jesus Christ..." Lance breathed, "No.  Nothing could be as bad as
this looks."  Green eyes brimming with anger and sympathy stared up
at Joey, "What the fuck did he do to you?  What would I have stopped
if I had come in earlier?"

Pulling away from the other man, Joey yanked down his shirt and
crossed his arms protectively over his chest.  "I've been in worse
fights, Lance."

"You weren't fighting back.  You were just lying there letting him
beat the holy crap out of you."  Lance steeled his jaw, "You think
I'm going to stand by and let that happen?  That any of us are going
to?"

"You have to," Joey said, calmly, rationally, "It's a matter of
pride."

"'Pride'?!  PRIDE?"  Lance got up in disgust and stormed over to the
fridge where he pulled open the door and started to bang around.  He
couldn't bare to look at Joey right then, so instead he spoke to the
counter top where he worked on a bag of ice.  "Fuck your pride,
Fatone, this is nuts.  What did he do to give you those bruises on
your chest, huh?  Kick you?  Hit you with a fucking BRICK?  God, I'm
going to kill him, I'll run him over with the bus, I'll - I'll...drop
a sandbag on his head, I'll feed him to Busta..."

Ice cubes flew and scattered over the floor as Lance raved and ranted,
half to himself, half to his shaking hands.  Shit, he kept thinking to
himself, shitshitshitshit...

When a hand came to rest over his he closed his eyes and shut his
mouth, trying to calm down before he spoke.  Joey turned him around
and he found himself staring at a dull yellow and red 'S' against a
fuzzy blue background.

"Sit down, Lance," Joey said softly.  "I'll get my own ice, and then
I'll tell you everything I told Josh.  It's something you should hear
from me, anyway."

Lance still couldn't bring himself to look up, but he nodded and
rested his forehead briefly against that faded 'S' before stepping
back.  "I'd hug you, but then I'd probably break you," he muttered.

"You won't break me," Joey said, and he reached foreword to pull Lance
in close but flinched when they collided together.  "Aw fuck...okay,
ice now, cuddle-time later."

It was enough to break the last bit of tension in the room as Lance
broke out into dry chuckles, "'Cuddle time'?"

Joey quickly flipped him off.  Then, as he messed around with the ice,
struggling to wrap it in a hand towel, a thought occurred to him and
he looked around, "Where are Justin and Chris?"

"Probably hiding in their rooms," Lance said, rolling his eyes.
"They went to sleep a little while ago, but I figured you'd drag
your ass back here to apologize and stayed up.  They must of
heard the yelling, they just don't want to butt in."

"You thought I'd come to apologize?" Joey said, not bothering to
hide his surprise.  "How'd you know?"

Lance rested his head against his hand, "Because you always apologize
after being a total dick."

Mouthing a silent Ha Ha, Joey pushed himself onto the kitchen counter
and dangled his feet against it.  "Okay, if you really want to know,
I guess I'll tell ya.  Hey, what the fuck - if the others want to
know, feel free to tell 'em too.  If big Anthony is gonna be around
for the next couple of days, I guess they have a right."

Neither agreeing or disagreeing, Lance just nodded for Joey to go on.
*If he tells me they use to be together I'll freak out.*  "If that's
what you want," he said simply.

But something in his voice must of caught Joey's attention because he
jerked his head up and looked at Lance curiously, eyes narrowed and
lips parted in a word left unspoken.  "Is there something else you
want to say to me?" Joey asked, voice cautious.  "You seem....wigged."

"Who's wigged?" Lance shifted uncomfortably on the couch.  Eager to
change the subject Lance quickly moved on, "How did Anthony get up
here?  The guys said that you never left them."

Sensing that the other man was unhappy, Joey shrugged off his
suspicions and moved on.  "I knew after he saw me in the park he'd
try to find me, and really - how hard is THAT?  Just follow the
swarm of screaming 12 year old girls.  So I gave his name to the
front desk and told them to send him on up if he came by."

"You didn't have to do that."

"Yes, I did."

Lance bit back another wave of frustration, "I think it's time for
you to start talking."







"I can do it, cover that up good, no one will notice."

"Lower the lights a bit, more flash.  And he's dancing most of the
time, no one will notice."

"Maybe we can give him a hat, would a hat help?"

"Does it hurt?  Who did this to you?"

Joey sighed and shifted tensely in his chair as he continued to be
scrutinized by the 'Powers That Be'.  To say that there had been
somewhat of an explosion when he had walked in for rehearsal that
day, displaying his bruise, would be an understatement.  PR had
nearly had a heart-attack.

Clearing his throat, Joey debated with what to say, he couldn't tell
them the truth.  They would mess things up for sure.  "Me and the
guys went to Disney-World yesterday.  Let's just say Mickey has a
mean left hook."

Stan, the road manager, frowned down at the young man.  "That's not
funny.  Really, Joe, what happened?  You get in a fight?  If you got
into some sort of brawl, you have to tell us."

"Nope.  I didn't fight."  That's true enough, Joey thought bitterly.

Stan exchanged looks with the others, "Okay, you aren't going to
tell us, fine.  But...is this going to be a continuing problem?"

Joey looked away, "No."

"Joey..."

"No, really."  Looking up, he forced a smile, "It's all taken care
of, Stan."

The band doctor cast a weary look over Joey's body as he sat slumped
in his chair, "Anything else bruised, scraped, or otherwise injured?"

"No."

"You wouldn't be lying would you, Joe?"

Joey blinked innocently, "Why would I lie?"

The doctor smothered a smile.  "Can you go on tonight?"

"Definitely."

"Okay, I'll take your word for it.  But keep in mind that I have a
rectal thermometer and I'm not afraid to use it."

Joey smiled.

Stan looked to Dolores, "You can cover that up with make-up?  You
sure?"

Wielding a sponge and container of foundation she nodded firmly,
"His goatee covers most of it anyways. Leave him to me, he's in
good hands."

Leering openly, Joey looked her up and down, "Yeah guys, leave us
alone."

Stan rolled his eyes as he pushed the doctor out of the room, "At
least we know that hit to the head didn't alter his personality."






Lance collided into Chris and both men hit the floor with a
simultaneous "oomphf!".

"Nice one!" Justin said, looking down at the pair.  "I think I saw
that move on America's Funniest Home Videos."

The music was nixed and the choreographer eyed them all warily.
"Not very smooth."

"It was Lance's fault," Chris complained, getting to his feet.  "He
ran into _me_."

"Sorry," he mumbled, "I'll get it right next time."

The choreographer shook his head, "It'll have to wait, we gotta move
on to the next number."

Lance, JC, Justin and Chris nodded and got into position for 'I Want
You Back'.  "It feels weird doing this without Joey," JC said.  "I
guess that's what's throwing Lance off.  Where is he?"

"Getting chewed out by management," Justin smirked.  "I'm thinking
they didn't take well to that shiner he has.  And you know Joey, he
ain't gonna tell 'em what really happened."

And neither would any of them, now that they all knew.

"Speaking of which, when that Anthony dude shows up, I'm going to
tell him what I think of him," Chris spoke up from his spot.  "Son
of a bitch thinks he can get away with this?"

"Joey doesn't want us to interfere," JC said uncertainly.  "Maybe we
shouldn't."

Answers were cut off when the music started up and everyone
automatically fell into step, mouthing along with the lyrics as they
went.  The concert was five hours away and the tensions and
adrenaline were rising.  The same way it always did before a show.

Half-way through the number, Joey appeared on stage and quickly joined
in, taking a moment to find his place before moving easily along with
the rest of them.  The song went off without a hitch and the
choreographer clapped.

"THANK YOU," he said, letting out a sigh of relief.  "Thank you for
that one good number, I'm going to take my fuckin' medication now.
Guys, take ten."  He walked off, leaving them alone for the moment
with stage and sound hands.

Justin's expression weirded when he saw Joey, "What's that goop on
your face?  You look like a drag queen."

"It's make-up, to cover up my bruise," Joey said.  "Hey, I know it
looks strange, but it does the job."

"What happens when you sweat?" Chris poked the puffy, shiny skin with
his finger, prompting Joey to slap it away.  "Won't it come off?"

Joey shook his head, "Dolores said its run proof.  What, does it look
that bad?" he added worriedly.

A finger to his chin, Chris stared long and hard before shaking his
head.  "Nah man, you look fine."  A pause.  "If you're RuPaul."

Joey scowled and reached for Justin's towel before scraping it roughly
off his face.  "Then I guess management is going to have to live with
my Rocky look, I'm not going out there like this."

"Fans'll wonder," Justin warned.  "Damn, they already got all bogus
about that scar over your eyebrow."

"You could cause a scandal..."

"Nations will fall, Superman," Chris rolled his eyes.  "Come on guys,
it's just a damn bruise - everyone gets them."

"But not everyone has to perform in front of 15,000 people," Justin
pointed out.  "But it ain't my call, whatever you want, Joe."

Joey idly ran his hand over the side of his face, thinking, but his
contemplative look abruptly dropped to one of anxiety as his eyes met
with something over Justin's shoulder.  Or rather, someone.

Turning to see who it was, Justin paled at the sight of the man from
the day before.

"Shit," JC cursed under his breath.

"Son of a bitch."  Chris.

When Joey started to move towards him, Lance put a halting hand on his
chest.  "_Don't_," his voice was half plea, half order, "Don't go over
there.  We can get rid of him, you never have to see him again,
don't - "

But Joey merely side-stepped him and walked over to where the hulking
man stood with a smug smirk across his face.  They watched as words
were exchanged and Joey nodded at whatever Anthony said.

"We can take him," Chris growled.  "The four of us, we can do it."

JC tossed a worried look his friend's way, unsure.  "That's not a -"

"WHY?  Because JOE said so?  What the fuck does....he would do it, if
one of us was in his situation," Chris said.  "You KNOW he would."

"Joe would honor his promises to us," JC countered, "YOU know THAT."

Jabbing a finger in JC's chest, Chris' laugh had nothing to do with
good humour, "Uh uh, no.  YOU made that promise, Josh, not me."

Slapping the hand away, JC took a deliberate step to get into Chris'
face, his tone was warning.  "Don't touch me, man...."





"You're friends don't seem to like me much," Anthony observed, eyeing
them back as they made no attempt to hide their glares.

Joey grunted, keeping his back to them so he wouldn't have to see
their faces.  If he saw their faces, he was afraid he would break,
lose whatever illusion of cool he had and just run back to them,
promising to do whatever they wanted.  "Is there a reason they should?
What do you want from me, Tony?  And if you're gonna hit me again,
avoid the mouth, huh?  I have to perform tonight."

Leaning in he gave Joey's face a once over, then flicked his eyes to
meet wide brown ones.  "I must admit, I got you pretty good, didn't
I, Joey-bear?"

Flinching at the nick-name but making no attempt to move away, Joey
cast his eyes down.  "I don't have much money, if that's what you're
after.  Half of it is wired to my family back home, some of it gets
put into an account, and only a little bit is accessible to me."

"I don't want your money."

Joey looked up, "Then what do you want?"

"I don't know.  I haven't decided yet."





It was ridiculous.  Their friend, their _brother_ was being harassed
by some big gorilla, and they were all just sitting by watching it
happen.  What sort of sense did that make?  Was Chris the _only_ one
that sensed something wrong with all that?  JC was being an idiot.

Watching with growing anger as Anthony continued to make Joey
uncomfortable, Chris clenched his teeth and looked away.  He couldn't
take much more of this.

Justin's hand nudged him gently, "Dude, that vein in your forehead is
about to pop."

Not answering, Chris's gaze landed on the Security team standing a
few feet away at the donut cart.  A thought formed in his head and he
grinned inwardly.  Well, if they couldn't come to Joey's defense
personally, then someone else would have to...

"Hey!" Chris whistled loudly and Lonnie looked up, the biggest of the
six, and waved.  Chris jerked his head in a 'come here' motion and
Lonnie put down his donut to walk over.

"What are you doing?" JC asked nervously.  "Chris..."

"Shut up," Chris snapped, "Just shut up, JC."  He wasn't really angry
at the other man, but it came out before he could stop himself.

Lonnie smiled as he walked over to the group.  "What's up, guys?"

Keeping their mouths shut, Lance, Justin and JC watched and waited for
what Chris would say.  Apprehension wasn't the word.

"See that guy over there?" Chris nodded in the direction of Anthony
and Joey.

The body guard raised an eyebrow, "Yeah?"

"He called your sister a ho."

"Did he now?"

Chris nodded solemnly, "Yup.  He said that she was an ugly piece of
ass that would give it up on the street for two cents."

JC slapped his hand over his face.  Justin swallowed and shifted
uneasily on his feet.  Lance smothered a grin.  Lonnie didn't
have a sister.

Looking over again, Lonnie watched as the man who he had never seen
before talked closely and seriously with Joey.  They seemed to be
pretty into whatever it was they were talking about.  He hesitated,
turned to Chris.  If Chris wanted him to beat on the guy for whatever
reason, then it must of been a good one, but if he was Joe's friend
- he didn't want to upset the other man either.

"You _sure_?" Lonnie asked.

Chris nodded, "Absolutely, man."

Cracking his knuckles, Lonnie shrugged.  "Okay then.  Can't let him
talk bad about my _sister_."

They watched him go with mixed expressions, Chris' being one of
silent satisfaction.

JC shook his head, mouth agape.  "Fifty says Lonnie breaks the
bastard's nose."

"Thirty says he throws him off the stage!" Justin quickly scrambled
for his wallet.

"Hundred says Joey stops him somehow," Lance muttered.






"....time."

Joey frowned and shook his head, "You - I can't do that.  Tony, I - "
Joey stopped mid-sentence, felt his stomach flip at the sight of
Lonnie lumbering towards them.  A quick look back at the group told
him all he needed to know.  Oh f -

Walking up next to Anthony, Lonnie leaned in with a threatening scowl.
"You talkin' trash 'bout my SISTER?!"

For Anthony's part, he did not look the least bit intimidated.
Expression more curious then anything, he glanced Anthony up and down,
"Excuse me?"

Not that he had much reason to be intimidated, Joey would guess that
they were only apart in build by twenty or so pounds.  Still...Lonnie
was a trained Security Guard, he couldn't imagine Anthony having much
of a chance.

"Lon..." Joey's tone was warning.

Lonnie cracked his knuckles again, and pulled himself up to his full
height.  "I won't take no shit from some punk talkin' trash 'bout my
family!"

Sensing a fight, Anthony tightened his hands into fists, "Man, I don't
know what the hell you're talkin' about but I suggest you back off.
Unless you _wanna_ throw fists..."

With a smirk of the affirmative, Lonnie pulled his arm way back to
deliver the first blow - his hand acting as a guided missile towards
Anthony's face.

The group watched with anticipation, each awaiting flesh to connect,
each eager to see the big man fall.

Then, Anthony pulled Joey in front of him.

Lonnie's fist met with a target.

Joey reeled from the shot, his neck snapping back before he fell to
the floor and then slide across the slick stage into a speaker.
Lonnie's mouth dropped open in shock, his hand frozen in mid-air
from the punch delivered.  It took a while for what happened to sink
in and he quickly ran to the now unconscious man's side.

"SHIT!" Chris let out a shout and the rest of the group also went to
check on him.  "Oh man....Joe?  Fuck, he's out of it!"

Justin glared up at Anthony who stood over them all, watching with
thinly veiled interest.  "You happy?"

"Hey, I'm not the one that hit him," he shrugged.  "Don't look at me."

"I'm looking right fucking at you."

Slapping his face lightly, Lance tried to bring him around, "Should we
call a medic?  Come on, let's get him back to the dressing room..."

They had just started to lift him up when Joey came around, blinking
blearily up at his surroundings.  "Anyone get the license plate on that
truck?"

JC sighed in relief, "He's all right."

"Yeah, speak for yourself," Joey muttered.  Reaching up, he stuck two
fingers in his mouth and grimaced when they came back bloody.  "Remind
me never to get you mad at me, Lon."

"Kid, I am SO sorry..." Lonnie said, sounding upset.  "I was aiming for
that jerk and...hey, where'd he go?"

Six sets of eyes turned to look around for Anthony but there was no sign
of him.

"Looks like Lex Luther has left the building," Chris said.  "Good, hope
he doesn't come back."

Joey glared up at Chris, then turned his attention to Lonnie.  "Since
when do _you_ have a sister?"

Lonnie grimaced, "Since Chris told me I did?"

"I was just trying to help," Chris said defensively.  "He looked like he
was gonna pound you."

"So instead I get knocked out by Loni?  Hell, that's much better!"
Struggling out of his friends' grasps, Joey pulled himself to his feet
and swerved uncertainly.  "Jesus Christ, guys, I trust you with my
secret, I ASK you not to interfere...what part of that don't you
understand?"

Chris folded his arms across his chest stubbornly, "I promised you
nothing, Joe, that was JC..."

Glaring hard enough to cut off the other man's words, Joey shook his
head, "No.  Don't play the word game with me, Chris.  You know what I
told JC applied to everyone."

"Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?" Lonnie demanded, but
was met only with silence.  He turned Joey around so that they were eye
to eye, "If that guy is some sort of threat, then it's my responsibility
to take care of it.  You better be straight with me, man."

Joey licked his bloodied lips, and swallowed back the taste of copper.
"He's no threat," he calmly said.  "In fact, the only _threat_ around
here seems to be my so-called friends."  Not wanting to hear anymore,
Joey quickly walked away towards the dressing rooms, searching for the
relief of solitude.

Already tired of the sight of Joey's back walking away from them, Lance
just grunted in disgust.  "You owe me a hundred."





The concert that night went off well from a technical standpoint, but
the members were all tense and distracted as they sang and performed.
Joey seemed to be on autopilot, executing moves robotically and without
enthusiasm while his eyes jerked to the side-lines spastically
throughout.  They all had a pretty good idea of who it was he was
looking for.

Afterwards, the group retired back to the hotel to shower and change
for the MTV after party, none too enthused about going.  Chris and
Justin sat in the kitchen of JC and Joey's hotel room, waiting for the
others to finish.

"The concert was weak," Justin finally said, echoing Chris' thoughts.
"You know I got nothing but love for Joe, he's like a brother to me,
but when outside shit starts effecting the whole group, it concerns all
of us."

Chris nodded silently, half-listening as he stared down into his coffee
mug.  "So what do you wanna do about it, Just?  I'm all out of bright
ideas."

"I don't know," Justin tapped the table-top, "Hell.  I don't know."

When the front door opened, both looked up to see Lance enter, his
expression morose and weary.  "Is it just me or did we really tank out
there tonight?"

"It's not just you.  Coffee?" Chris held up the pot and Lance shook
his head.

JC was the next to come out, hands rubbing together and eyes searching
the room.  "Where's Joe?"

"Not finished yet."  Chris held up the coffee pot and JC shook his
head.

"Nah, I'm jittery enough."  JC looked at Joey's closed door, "He's had
a rough coupla days."

Lance grunted.  "Guys, I've been thinking about this whole thing, and
I think I have an idea on how we can help, Joe."

"Is it anything like how Chris 'helped' Joe?" Justin asked, prompting
Chris to whack the back of his head.

Lance smiled, "No.  But it might take some work."

Any further explanation was stopped by Joey coming out of his room,
shutting the door silently behind him.  He looked shaken, his
expression downcast and upset.  The look of utter defeat in his eyes
stopped the room cold.

Oh God, Joey...I'm so sorry, nothing should hurt that bad, was thought.

"Dude?" Justin prompted softly.  "What is it?"

He approached his friends slowly, his expression pained.  "I-I really
fucked up," he stuttered, "out there, tonight.  I let you down, I let
the fans down.  I'm so sorry..."  His expression crumpled and he
quickly looked away, hiding his face, "Look, I'm useless right now.  I
can't go out there.  So, just go without me, huh?"

He turned to head back in his room but Chris quickly leaped up to stop
him, grabbing him by both shoulders.  "No, we're not going without
you," he said firmly.  "_I'm_ not leaving you alone."

"Chris..."

"Joe," Chris held him by the back of his neck in a firm, comforting
grip.  "I'm.  Not.  Leaving."  He hugged him close, his arms
encircling the bigger man who fell easily against him.

Tears that were refused release choked his throat, and he shuddered,
trying to push them away.  He hated crying, it was such a weak,
sissy thing to do.

When the two parted, Joey had to admit to feeling a little better,
almost human again, and he nodded a silent thanks.  "I'm sorry," he
apologized again.  "I've been a jerk.  Too caught up in myself, my
guilt.  I've been selfish."

"It's understandable, you're dealing with some heavy shit," Justin
said.  He stood and pulled at the collar of his incandescent silver
shirt.  "You know what?  It's been too long since just the five of
us chilled anyway.  Without being in a club or surrounded by dozens
of people, that is.  This'll be fun."

JC reached for the hotel phone, "I'll call Stan, tell him we're not
coming.  And I'll order some food."  He smiled and waved the receiver
in the air, "Hell, I'll even make it Italian for the big Salami brain
over there."

Joey smiled his first genuine smile in two days.  "Thanks."

"And don't forget the entertainment!"  Chris hummed in thought,
"Hmmm...I'm thinking we need some gratuitous violence and nudity.
None of that corny ass chick-flick stuff.  Willis, Stalone, Van Damn!"

"Bruce Willis is so cool!" Justin cried as he started to flip off his
shoes.  "'Die Hard'!"

Joining in his friends' enthusiasm, Lance grinned ear to ear and
grabbed Joey by the shoulders, pulling him towards the couch.  "Sit
down, PHAT One.  You're gonna have fun if we have to make you."

"Thanks," Joey said softly, his eyes grateful as he stared up at his
friend.  "I - "

"Don't worry about it, you don't have to say it, Joe."  Lance winked
and gave his shoulder one last pat before moving to get his laptop.
He was determined now more then ever to break whatever hold Anthony
and the past had on Joey, and to do it as fast as possible.  Suddenly,
two days in Hell seemed way too long.






JC bolted awake to the sound of gun-fire, a cry stopping in his throat
as the dreamworld crashed back into fantasy around him and reality
sunk in.  He blinked and eyed the TV screen where Willis was shooting
up...something.  Willis was always shooting up something in these
movies, anyway.

Letting out a jaw-cracking yawn, JC glanced around the room and smiled.
Apparently, he hadn't been the only one to fall asleep.  Justin lay
with his mouth open on the couch, snoring quietly with one leg propped
up on the coffee table.  Chris was sprawled in the second arm-chair, a
half-finished cup of Pepsi hanging precariously off his hand.  Lance
was on the floor, lying on his stomach with his hand pressed against
the keys of his laptop.  Whatever this big 'plan' of his was, JC just
hoped it worked.

Joey was next to him, his head back against the couch, and his chest
moving up and down slowly with the deep breathing of sleep.

Eyes thoughtful as he looked down at him, his arm propped up next to
Joey's head - he absently brushed away a lock of red hair - then let
his fingers drift over his face.

I wish I understood you better, Joe, JC thought.

He was still looking down at him when Joey inexplicably awakened, his
eyes blinking open and focusing on the other man.  There was no start
of surprise or catch of breath, but just merely a look.

JC never stopped stroking his face.  His fingers moved up and down,
tracing the soft flesh.  "You missed the movie," he commented absently,
voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah."

"Bruce Willis.  'Die Hard'.  Good stuff."

Joey pressed his cheek into the cup of JC's hand, nuzzling it like a
cat might.  His eyes closed again, and JC could feel Joey's breath
against his hand.  Light, almost ticklish.

His free hand dipped down and felt up through the folds of Joey's shirt,
danced over the slight bump of each rib along the side of his chest.
The skin was hot, electric, he scraped it lightly with his nails, held
his breath when Joey gasped and twisted.

"Joe?" JC's voice sounded foreign to his own ears.  But he was in a
trance, far away and much too close at the same time.  The room seemed
to coat his voice with secrecy, made the words sound erotic and
promising.  He licked his lips, felt an ache deep in the pit of his
stomache that was slowly working his way all over his body, like a
red hot wave of...hunger, lust.  Dark, thrilling.  He felt intoxicated.
"I'm gonna kiss you now." There, he thought, didn't get much more
unambiguous then that.  Good.  He wanted to taste those lips, feel them
press hard against his own.

Still, he moved in slow, giving the other man plenty of time to move
away or stop him in case he really had been reading him wrong all along.
Joey's only reaction was to close his eyes and tilt his head up, his
lips slightly parted.

Lance's hand slipped in sleep and the laptop closed shut on his fingers,
causing him to yelp and bolt awake.  JC and Joey quickly separated,
breathing hard and faces flushed.

"Damn it..." Lance's voice was bleary with sleep and he extracted his
hand with a light tug, then opened it up to glance at the screen.
Luckily, none of his information had been lost.  He stretched and
yawned, turned to look over to the couch.

He paused, stared hard at Joey and JC who were returning his look
guiltily.  Joey's shirt was half open.  "Did I wake you?"

"Uh, no," JC said, trying to sound casual, "we were already up."

Joey smothered his snicker with a pillow before yanking his shirt back
into place.  "I gotta use the john, 'scuse me."

As the warmth of the other man's body left his side, JC felt an
inexplicable moment of loss, he didn't want to let Joey go.  He felt
hot, flushed all over.  Sweat trickled a line down his back, he could
feel his pulse beating over every part of his body, and his heart
thudding in his ears.  This new, exciting thing that had just
happened...it pumped inside of him, feeding him, asking for more...

Getting to his feet, Joey knocked Chris on the head as walked by,
causing the man to jerk in his sleep and for the Pepsi to spill into
his lap.  "SHIT!  JOE!"

Now Justin was up, he blinked at Chris and said in a sing song voice,
"Chris wet his pants, Chris wet his pants..." before a flying pillow
caught him directly in the face.

Lance remained quiet throughout, biting hard on his tongue to keep from
saying anything.  He felt as if the floor had dropped had from
underneath him, as if someone had come in and changed the wall-paper as
he had slept.  Everything was different now, everything.  Joey and JC?
It wasn't suppose to be like that.  _They_ weren't the ones that were
suppose to be...involved.

He lightly massaged his fingers, working away the distant twinges of
pain.  It wasn't guilt he felt, he told himself.  I did it because...It
had been stupid of them to make-out on the couch in front of everyone,
anyway.  Not that they had really been making out, but it had almost
gotten to that.  If Lance hadn't chose that moment to make a noise, to
pretend to wake up, who knows what would of happened?

Setting his jaw in a grim line and watching JC watch Joey come out of
the bathroom, Lance snapped his laptop closed and stood to go.  He
didn't want to stick around a moment longer.

"You leaving?" Joey asked him.  Was that disappointment in his voice?
Lance got a sudden flash back to that night in the club, Joey licking
his neck, holding him close as they danced to a crazy beat on the floor.
Had that all been in Lance's head?

"Yeah, I'm going back," Lance said.  He forced a smile, "Sleep well,
Joe, guys..."

A round of good nights went up around the room and Chris stood as well,
wiping at his pants and glaring at the smirking Joey.  "I'll go with
you, Lance, I gotta change thanks to this bastard."

Joey grabbed his heart as if shot and pulled Chris in for another hug.
He pretended to struggle, but then quickly sighed and hugged back.

"Thanks, all of you," Joey said, voice sincere.  "I really needed this.
Thanks for understanding."

"Night's not over yet!" Justin hooted and went over to the television.
"'Naked Gun'!"

"Don't start it 'till I get back!" Chris ordered, still wiping at the
stain on his pants.

Lance waited by the door for Chris to join him, and then held it open
for the other man to walk through first.  As he closed the door, the
last thing he saw was Joey re-joining JC on the couch.





"Man, that dude is going to get it when he comes out of that funk of
his," Chris muttered as he and Lance walked into their shared hotel
suite, but his voice was more amused then angry.  "At least we know
he hasn't lost his twisted sense of humour."

Grunting non-commentaly, Lance threw open the mini-bar and came back
out with a beer.  "Chris, you're Joe's best friend, right?"

He shrugged, "I'd like to think the whole group is best friends with
each other."

"Nice sentiment, but realistically...you two talk to each other, you
know him better then most.  Am I making a leap here, Chris?"

There was a pause as Chris looked up, his expression somewhat blank,
"Okay.  I guess not if you put it that way.  Where's this going?"

Lance took a drink from his beer and rested the bottle against his
bottom lip.  "I woke up and saw him and JC getting pretty close on the
couch."

"The way you and Joe were _close_ on the dance floor a few nights ago?"
A skeptical look.  "This is about Joey maybe liking guys again, isn't
it?  You _would_ have a problem with it."  Chris paused.  "JC and Joey?"

Watching carefully for a reaction while trying to keep his own in check,
Lance nodded, "Yup.  And this wasn't the usual fooling around the Joey
does, trust me - I know.  JC had his hand up Joe's shirt."

Chris seemed to falter at that before he finally shook his head and went
to his room, leaving the door open so he could be heard, "You shouldn't
of told me that, Scoop, it ain't none of my business."

"Do _you_ have a problem with it?" Lance countered, coming to stand in
the doorway of Chris' room.  "You seem uncomfortable."

"Well, gee.  Maybe it has to do with the fact that you're _watching me
change!_"

"As if there's anything to see," Lance rolled his eyes but looked away
anyway.  "So, do you?"

"About Joe and JC?  IF it's true?"  Chris thought for a moment.  "Shit,
I don't know.  Look..." Chris zipped up his fly and approached Lance,
plucking the beer from his hands, "I love Joey.  I love JC.  And if
they're happy...together...happier then they would be if they were
apart, then I got no beef with it.  But, sure...I guess it would be
uncomfortable for all of us at first.  That don't mean anything."
Chris drank Lance's beer and headed for the door, his expression
slightly off put.

Not moving from where he stood, Lance wiped the condensation from his
hand onto his pants.  "You mean that?"

Chris stopped, looked back seriously, "Dude, have you ever known me to
say something that I don't mean?  About the important stuff, anyway?"

"No," Lance considered, "I guess not."

"Hey, what's up with you lately, huh?  Joe's not the only one that's
been draggin' his feet."  Chris studied the other man closely, "It's
about him, isn't it?  You...you..."

Lance shook his head.  "Forget it, man."

Hesitating, torn between leaving and staying with his friend, Chris
balked and glared.  "If you like Joey," he began, ignoring Lance's
grimace, "then I suggest you do something 'bout it.  That's the
difference between you and Josh.  _He_ took the chance, didn't he?"
He left, his mind still reeling from everything he had heard.

Joey and JC?  Joey and _Lance_?  When the hell had all this happened?
And here he thought they were all close; Chris steamed at the thought
of being left in the dark so long about his friends, and their
secrets.  Not to mention...Since when were any of these guys bi?

The elevator dinged its arrival and Chris stepped onto it, hit the
button for the upper floor.  He didn't have a problem with it, not
really.  He had no paranoid delusions of any of them suddenly hitting
on him, or of it being a great sin punishable by a lightening bolt
from God...but it wasn't exactly a comforting idea either.  The band
was just that....The Band.  A group, a team.  If people within the
group started to get close, in that way, then what the hell did that
mean for the rest of 'em?  Not to mention this whole idea of both JC
and Lance liking JOEY of all people was just plain WEIRD.  Joey?  The
guy who owned fifty different Superman t-shirts?  The guy who could
burp his name and smile about it?  The guy who couldn't sleep sitting
up on a bus if his life depended on without toppling on top of you?
JOEY?

Chris shook his head, smiled warily.

The elevator stopped and rang once again.  When the doors parted,
Chris started to step out but stopped, nearly running into someone.

He froze.  Then, his gaze slowly moved to follow up a broad chest and
wide shoulders.  Up this close, the other man positively _towered_.

Oh shit, Chris thought, swallowing hard.  This was not going to end
well.

"You know what the really funny thing is?" Anthony Pazzari mused.  He
looked down at the smaller man.  "Joey-bear actually thinks that he
can make-up for what he took from me."

Chris took a step back into the elevator.  His eyes flicked to the
alarm button on the silver control panel.

Anthony chuckled coldly, "I mean...he took away the woman I loved, my
fiancee, and my unborn child, and he actually thinks that he has
_anything_ to give me to make it all okay.  Money.  I don't need his
money.  Chris?  Yeah...that's your name..."  He took a step into the
elevator, and the doors closed behind him.  CLANG.  It was a definite,
permanent sound.

"Well, Joey can't make it up to me, _Chris_, but I can certainly return
the favour."  Faster then a man his size should be able to move, he
grabbed Chris by the throat and yanked him close.  His breath smelt
stale and sour, Chris could see spit forming over his teeth, see the
edges of red on dark, black eyes.

"An eye for an eye, _paison_."  Chris heard it whispered harshly into
his ear, and soon the world went black, slipping away like a candle
being snuffed.

"A life for a life..."


********
TBC
bwahaha :)
msjingles@angelfire.com