Date: Fri, 21 Jul 2000 00:28:23 -0700
From: Dayse <msjingles@angelfire.com>
Subject: "The Best Man" 1/1

Disclaimer:  The following is a work of fiction and
not meant to be taken seriously, it is for entertainment
value only and the people and places represented are
in no way affiliated with this work.  I do not know the
sexual orientation of any of NSYNC, any similarities is
purely coincidental.

Author's notes:  I have a webpage, weeeee! :)
http://www9.ewebcity.com/dayse/enter -- I'll be posting
some stuff there that won't be on Nifty, so if you like
what you read here and might want to read more, come on
down and check it out :)

I also wrote another fic on Nifty, but this one is
pretty different from "Superman Can't Fly".  While that
particular fic did have slash, the relationships were
almost incidental in relation to the plot -- here, the
plot is incidental to the relationship :)  Or something
like that.  Please bare with me while I try to sound
intelligent and knowing-what-I'm-doing-like.  This is
the cotton-candy of fiction.  Pink, fluffly, full of
empty calories :)  Hope you like it though.

This is dedicated to the wonderful people on the NSync
slash list who gave me feedback and wished me happy
birthday :)  This is for my loving 'husband', Bart
who is sick and should feel better soon or I'll kick
his ass.  This is for anyone who wants it, for those
who just THINK they want it, and for anyone else that
has an interest in it.

This is for Jackie because she's the most vocal of
this particular coupling I've ever heard.

This is for Katherine and Kevinsangel, my soon to be
writing partners.  *Mwuah*.

This is for #boybands 'cause everyone in there is just
so much cooler then I am.

This is for David because he works his ass off on this
site, and who is responsible for my reading some of
the best damn fiction I have ever read.

Examples of said "best damn fiction":
Intimate Stranger
Survivors
Choices
Superman
Nsync, JC N Lance
Love Is Blind

And many more which I can't remember.  Trust me, it's
all out there, it's all good, and it's all because of
David :)








----------------------------
The Best Man
----------------------------








"You SUCK!"

Grumbling lightly under his breath, Joey walked across
the dressing room and plucked his three red darts from
the dart board. "Hey, I told you I'm new at this."

"Then you shouldn't of bet so much you cocky bastard."
Still grinning wildly, Chris waited until Joey was at
his side before closing one eye to take careful aim and
letting his blue dart fly in a smooth arch across the
room to hit the red line on the board. "Score!"

Joey rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips.

Aiming again, this time sticking his tongue out
comically, Chris let another dart fly and it cut
sharply through the air, much faster then before. It
hit ten points short of the bullseye. "Whoa, I'm good."
Joey groaned and buried his face in his hands, turning
away as if he couldn't bare to watch.

"You're killing me, Chris."

"This was YOUR idea." Chris was fully enjoying
himself and he rolled the final dart around in his
hand, playing with the heavy silver and blue object
carefully as he familiarized himself with the weight.
"You forget, I went to college. What do you think
college kids DO all day other then drink beer and have
sex?"

"Study?" Joey snapped.

Chris snorted and the final dart flew through the air,
seemingly without any attempt to aim, and hit the red
line once again. "That's game. I win, Joe. I do
believe you owe me a sweet fifty."

As Joey continued to curse and mumble under his breath,
Chris laughed and walked over to the dartboard to
remove his darts. "I told ya I'd win."

"I didn't believe you," Joey admitted.  "I've seen you
aim, we've shared a bathroom."  He sighed and sat down
in a large green chair after passing Chris his money,
which the older man made a great show of counting and
inspecting. "Well now what do you wanna do?"

"This *is* real, right?" Chris held the two twenties
and ten up to the light and squinted at the letters,
rubbed the paper between his fingers. "If this isn't
real, I'll turn you in, Joe, don't think I won't."

Smiling lazily, Joey slumped back a little in his chair
as he watched his friend move around the room, burning
off his seemingly endless supply of energy. "You know,
we could play something else. Make another bet." Joey
fingered his darts, studying the light that bounced off
the pointed silver tips. "I say you give me a re-match,
I was just having an off game."

"Riiight," Chris waved the money in Joey's face before
stuffing it in his pocket. "Face it, Joe, I'm just
better then you." He sighed and held up his right
hand, counting off fingers as he spoke. "I'm better at
darts, Playstation, B-Ball, singing, dancing, women..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Joey waved his hands in the air.
"Hold it right there, little man...women? Excuse me?
Is your mind going already? Do you actually believe
that you are better at picking up women then I am?"

Crossing his arms across his chest, the smug smile never
left Chris' face. "Believe? Try *know*, Supe. The
women fall over me, provided they can even SEE me past
that big ol'ego of yours."

"Ha! We ALL know who's the ladies man of the group, and
it AIN'T you, short stuff. I could get any woman, or
MAN for that matter, that I want."

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Damn straight." Joey nodded firmly.

"Well, that sounds like a bet if I ever heard one." A
slow lifting smirk fell across Chris' face and his
eyes sparked with barely contained glee. He looked
past Joey to an *NSync poster that hung on the wall
behind him and he held out his hand graciously for the
other man to take.

Curious, Joey took it and was pulled to his feet.
"Okay, Don Juan Joey, here's the deal," Chris pressed a
dart into Joey's hand. "You let one fly, and whomever
it hits...that's the guy you gotta 'get' with in say
...a week."

"'Get' being..."

"Sex. Coitus. The horizontal Space Cowboy..."

Looking down at the dart in his hand, to Chris' still
smug face, to the poster, Joey bit his lip in
contemplation. "What are the stakes?"

Chris rubbed his goatee. "Well, considering that this
goes a little beyond our usual wagers...let's up the
ante. Thousand bucks."

A low whistle and Joey weighed the dart in his hand.
"That's a lot of money. And I only get one week?"

"Casa Nova like you...shouldn't take any longer then
that. And you did say *anyone*. Unless of course you
were just blowing hot hair and know that you *can't*..."
He let his voice deliberately trail off and chuckled in
satisfaction when Joey leveled him with a glare and
turned to face the poster.

"Should I aim?"

Chris grunted. "Right, with *you* it won't matter."
He paused and reached into his pocket for his bandanna.
"But even you can get lucky, so..." He tied the blue
and white patterned cloth around Joey's head and
waved a hand in front of his eyes. When he got no
reaction, he patted the other man on the shoulder and
guided his hand in the general direction of the poster.

"Okay, dude, go for it....let's see who the victim, er,
I mean lucky contestant is."

The dart flew, and there was a dull, satisfying thunk
of the point meeting its target. Joey heard Chris
breathe in abruptly and he quickly ripped the
blindfold off his eyes.

Poster Chris was sporting the blue dart. Right between
the eyes. He looked over his shoulder at the other man
who was looking at the poster with a mix of disbelief,
amusement, and confusion on his face. "Looks like this
is going to be interesting," Joey commented.

"Interesting my ass! This'll be the easiest money I've
ever made!" Chris cheered, almost immediately dropping
into his old familiar mask of enthusiasm. "I think I
can go for a week without subcoming to your *charms*,
Joseph. 'Specially with a grand at stake." His voice
was sarcastic but with an underlining emotion that made
Joey smile, that made his confidence shoot up a notch.

"Guess we'll see," he said softly, eyes hooded. "Won't
we?"




The next two days for Chris were hell. He had been so
sure that Joey would be his shadow, that he would be
trying out all kinds of lines and stuff on him, but in
fact he did the opposite: he avoided him. It was
infuriating, it was exasperating. Not only was he doing
the LAST thing Chris had expected him to, but the older
man also found that he was missing the silly bastard.

It was all part of his plan, Chris thought darkly as he
wandered into Justin's hotel room that morning where the
group would be gathering for breakfast. It was all part
of his weird, twisted, Italian plan to win the bet. The
half looks, the mumbled conversations and one word
answers, it was all part of it. Even the times that
Chris had tried to initiate a conversation or a place to
go and hang out, Joey had made an excuse or just smiled
and nodded politely rather then participate. The other
guys were starting to think that they were fighting.

Chris let out an exasperated breath and waved a half-
hearted hello to Justin who was bent over a bowl of
cereal. Justin just grunted back, and continued to
shovel spoonful after spoonful of the goop in his mouth.

"Hey, guys." JC and Joey walked into the room, both
smiling wildly and chuckling over some private joke.
JC nodded at Chris and his grin turned sloppy, on the
edge of laughter. "Chris..."

"Hi, JC..." Chris raised an eyebrow at both men and
watched as Joey whistled happily around the table to
sit next to Justin. "Mornin', Joe."

Joey just nodded in return and poured out a bowl of
cereal for himself. Chris felt his fist clench under
the table. The silent treatment was really starting to
piss him off. He all but glared across the table as
Joey started to munch on his breakfast, talking
animatedly with JC about a movie that they had watched
together on PPV the night before. But his glare
softened quickly. Usually Joey would of watched the
latest Bruce Willis flick with *him*.

This whole bet thing was starting to turn out to be
more upsetting than funny. He missed his friend. He
missed his company. He missed *Joey* and it had only
been two freaking days! And it wasn't as if they still
didn't see each other or talk...but it *was* as if
someone had turned the volume down on their friendship,
that it was somehow muted in comparison to the way it
was before. Chris frowned and looked down at the table,
trying to decide what he should do.

"Morning y'all." The group let out a chorus of
hellos as Lance entered the room, yawning and rubbing
at his eyes. Justin merely grunted again and
continued to look blankly ahead as he ate, the level
of his cereal slowly declining as he did.

Joey visibly brightened at the sight of Lance and he
leaned eagerly foreword as he spoke. "Hey, dude,
guess who called me last night?"

Pretending to think it over, Lance put a finger to
his chin and looked off into space. Chris couldn't
help but think it was things like *that* that made
everyone think he was queer. "I don't know, who?"

If possible, Joey's smile grew and Chris caught
himself staring at his mouth. "Lou and Jimmy!
They want us to meet them for the day, hang out!"

"Really? Cool! I didn't know Bloodhound Gang was
in town."

"They're doing some promotional thing," Joey said as
he peeled an orange and stuffed the pieces into his
mouth. "But their afternoon is totally free."

"Alright," Lance said and nodded happily, excited at
the idea of seeing their friends again.

JC was snickering as he snuck pieces of orange peel
into Justin's cereal bowl, while the younger man ate
on, oblivious. "You guys are still gonna join us at
the club after, right?"

"Sure," Lance nodded.

Joey seemed to hesitate before answering, so JC
turned to Chris next. "Chris, you coming with us
tonight, man?"

It would give him an opportunity to hang with Joey.
Joey NEVER missed an opportunity to go clubbing.
He might have to deal with the ramifications of
their bet, of beating Joey off with a stick all
night but he didn't consider that a problem. After
all, it was just JOEY. And he had known JOEY for a
long time, he knew all of Joey's tricks and lines
and charming little quirks. Chris nodded. "Yeah,
I'll be there."

"I can't come," Joey quickly said, right after. He
offered a half shrug before bending back over his
orange. "Sorry."

FUCKING SON OF A BITCH BASTARD BITCH WHORE DAMN
SHIT FUCK..."Why not?" Chris demanded.

Joey raised an eyebrow, and made eye contact him
for the first time in what seemed like a while.
"I just can't."

Silence rained over the table and Lance cleared
his throat while JC seemed to stifle more
chuckles. Justin swallowed an orange peel and
promptly started to cough. He glared up at JC and
picked up his bowl slowly...

"No! Don't you dare, Curly!"

"Run..." Justin growled. And JC ran with Justin
chasing him, bowl in hand.

Breakfast was finished.







It would of been too obvious that something was up
if Chris had canceled the offer to go clubbing so
soon after he accepted, so with false enthusiasm
and a twitchy smile, Chris had left with Lance, JC
and Justin to the club that night.

Joey had stayed at the hotel, insisting he would be
fine on his own.

And Chris couldn't be too sure but he thought he
saw Joey wink before the door closed behind them.






Two in the morning, Chris stumbled home. Or rather,
temporary home number 2301. He had stayed a lot
longer then he had planned, talking and dancing and
drinking. And trying not to think about Joey or the
bet or any of it.

Not Joey and how he missed him. Joey and how they no
longer did anything together. Joey and how he
looked so *nice* when he smiled. Joey and how he
seemed to be winning without doing ANYTHING...

Chris threw off his jacket and flung himself on the
couch, too tired to make it all the way to his
bedroom. Distantly he wondered where JC was,
considering they were sharing a room and they had
come back at the same time.

Truthfully, though, he was glad to be alone. It
gave him time to think. Before the bet he had
never really looked at Joey as any more then a
friend. A close, good-looking friend, but a
friend. But ever since the stupid bet, his mind
couldn't help but go...*there*. Still, it was
all under control, he wasn't about to jump the
other man's bones, or let Joey jump anything of
his but...he missed him. He didn't think missing
him would be part of the bargain.

Just then the door opened but Chris didn't look
up or open his eyes, expecting JC. Then the couch
dipped as someone sat down and a familiar cologne
that didn't belong to JC wafted through the air
and he jerked his eyes open.

His mouth dropped when Joey's shadow loomed over
him, impossibly close. His eyes were dim with
lust, and in them was a look of utter compliance,
and obedience. Chris got the impression that at
that moment Joey would of done anything that was
asked of him, Chris swallowed hard.

"Hi." His breath was a soft touch of cool air
on Chris' cheek. "I traded with JC, I'm your
new roommate now," Joey continued, voice casual
and incredibly soft, intimate. Then a gleam
came to his eyes that was visible even in the
dim light. "I'm sorry I've been ignoring you,
but, well..."

"Joey, what are you doing?" Shit. His voice
wasn't suppose to of shuddered like that.

A hand reached out and straightened Chris' collar,
Joey continued on in his low, subdued tone. "Do
you need help getting to bed?"

No. He most definitely didn't. "I think I'm
going to sleep out here," Chris said. Then,
adding a little more strength to his tone, Chris
raised his chin. "Goodnight, Joe."

Joey smiled and leaned in a little more before
tilting his head to the side and looking the
other man over, slowly. Chris shifted under the
scrutiny, felt the temperature in the room rise
a couple of degrees.

"Goodnight, Chris. See you in the morning."

A light touch on his shoulder and Joey was gone,
a shadow blending into the darkness of JC's old
room.

Chris let out the breath he had been holding and
stared up at the ceiling. Suddenly wondering if
the silent treatment had been such a bad thing
after all. At least that way he could miss and be
pissed off at Joey, now it was just getting...

He moaned and turned over onto his stomach, burying
his face in the couch cushions. Five days to go
and already things were getting difficult.







Day three was enough to nearly push Chris to the
brink of insanity. Everywhere he turned Joey was
accidentally bumping his shoulder, brushing elbows,
or otherwise touching him. Normally, it would of
irritated the hell out of him, but after two days of
hardly seeing the other man at all, it was...
welcome. He was starting to love every touch, to
look foreword to it after such a long dry spell.
And that had, of course, been Joey's plan all along.
And Chris hated that. He was about one hand brush
away from running screaming out of the room to
safety. It had turned into a game, a laughing dance
where Joey would come near him and he would tense up
and jump out of the way whenever it seemed like he
would touch him.

It didn't help that Joey seemed to know exactly what
he was doing, that he was even getting a kick out of
it. If anything, he seemed to like the challenge.
Chris would catch him looking at him, from across
the room, from across the table, and not caring at
all when he got caught. He'd be giving a half smile,
his eyes always focused on some part of Chris' body,
and his body language was...involved. Slumped and
languid. Chris couldn't help but wonder if the
things he were noticing was Joey's attempt at a
seduction, or things that the other man had always
done, but he had just never noticed. Either way,
it was not helping his already shattered nerves.

The guys were, as usual, amused and inactive in
their antics. Chris was fairly sure that they all
knew about the 'bet' that was going on between the
two men. Was even more sure that there were
probably a few side bets going on.

It was about five in the afternoon when Chris
realized that he would have to go on the offensive.
He'd had his back turned to the door and was
staring blankly at the TV when a footfall sounded
behind him and he scrambled to his feet and turned
to see Justin standing a few feet away, orange
juice carton in hand and a basketball tucked under
his arm.

He gave Chris an odd look, twirled the ball on his
finger. "You okay, man? You seem jumpy."

"Jumpy? Who's jumpy? I'm not jumpy, not jumpy at
all. Who said I was jumpy, who told you I was jumpy?
Was it Joey? Did JOEY say I was jumpy? It was Joey
wasn't it? Damn him!"

Head tilted back and mouth open, the hand holding
the orange juice carton froze in the air and he gave
Chris a raised eyebrow.

The door opened again and Lance walked in, a towel
swung over his shoulder and sweat running down his
face. He frowned at Justin. "You shouldn't drink
straight from the carton, you think the rest of us
want your spit in our juice?"

Justin rolled his eyes and reached for a glass.

"Where's Joey?" Chris demanded.

Lance started slightly at Chris' tone and gave him
a confused look. "He's in the gym with JC. Why?"

Ignoring the question, Chris brushed by him quickly
and headed for the hotel gym, a determined look on
his face. He was NOT going to lose this bet.








He found Joey shirtless and out of breath, running
laps with an equally tired JC. For a moment Chris
just watched them run, their legs pumping in tandem
and their arms waving at their sides.

Sweat ran freely down Joey's bare torso and back,
the muscles in his legs rippled with each step they
took and his hair was matted to his forehead. There
was a look of intensity on his face and Chris' eyes
followed him as he moved, his eyes lingering on the
lines and curves of the strong, hard body.

When the pair neared him on their round, Chris
stepped back and jerked his head for Joey to stop.
"JOE! Come here, dude. I wanna talk to you." He
gave JC a 'and you're not invited' look.

Taking the hint, JC stopped and all but collapsed
on the ground. Doubled over with his hands on his
knees he breathed heavily and accepted the pat Joey
gave his back with a weak smile. "Thanks for the
workout."

"Thanks for going easy on me," Joey offered back,
his chest heaving slightly. "See ya later."

JC nodded and wobbled off in the direction of the
doors and the two men were left alone.

Joey smiled at Chris and accepted the towel that
was offered. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

"The bet."

"Isn't that against the rules? 'You do not talk
about the bet'?" Joey asked. He threw his head
back and took a long, luxurious drink from his
water bottle, letting it dribble down the sides of
his mouth and chin to his chest where it traced
drops of moisture down to the waistband of his
shorts.

Chris gulped and quickly looked away. "I think
you're getting the bet confused with 'Fight Club',
Joe. I want to expand on our bet, change the rules
a little..."

A short pause and Joey sucked moisture from his
bottom lip. "Okay, what do you want to change?"

"I want a chance to defend myself," Chris smiled
slowly and took a step towards the half naked man.
When a look of confusion passed over Joey's face,
Chris moved closer, encouraged. "The deal was if
you could get me to fall for the Fatone charms,
you win a grand, right? Well...what if YOU fall
for MY charms?" Chris ran a hand down Joey's
chest, eliciting a shiver and he wrapped leather
clad arms around the bare waist, pulling him close.
Oh, it was wonderful. This body pressed against
him, finally, FINALLY being able to touch him. "If
YOU ask ME for anything, if you cave into me first
...then I win. What do you think?"

Joey bit his lip, he wanted to argue the point,
this would only make things harder for him. Chris
seemed to sense the argument coming and he raised
a hand to the back of Joey's head, ran fingers
through his wet hair. "Unless you're afraid that
you'll lose."

His hand fisted in Joey's hair and he gripped him
hard as he brought his head down towards his,
capturing his lips in a hot, lingering kiss.
Licking at Joey's lips, he couldn't suppress his
moan when Joey opened his mouth and he was
suddenly engulfed by warm, wet, heat. Joey tasted
like Gatorade and sweat and Chris held him tighter,
sucking on his tongue and feeling every inch of the
body that was pressed against his.

Jesus Christ...the words "you win, let's fuck"
sprang to Chris' mind and he pulled away before he
could say them out loud. Their lips detached with
a light sucking sound and Joey seemed to collapse
slightly against him, Chris's grip on him tightened
and he held back a triumphent smile.

Lips swollen and red, Joey blinked and stared hard
at his friend. "Okay," he said softly. "You got
a deal. New bet."

"New bet." Chris stepped back and immediately felt
the loss of heat and security. He licked his own
lips, knew that he must of looked...hungry. He
extended his hand, inhaled deeply and smelt Joey's
scent on his clothes. He'd be sleeping in his shirt
and jacket that night. "Shake on it?"

A warm hand engulfed his and the shake lingered
briefly. Joey seemed to of regained some of his
composure, some of his confidence. "May the best
man win."







Chris had just settled underneath the covers of his
bed when his cell phone rang. A look over at the
neon digital numbers of a clock radio revealed it to
be two in the morning, and he let out a soft grunt
of impatience before reaching for his phone to
answer.

"Hello."

"Are you thinking of me?"

Shit. Joey.

"Do you know what time it is?"

"I'm thinking of you..." His voice came in clear and
seductive over the phone, Chris closed his eyes and
could picture the other man in the room next to his,
lying in bed like he was, wearing only boxer shorts
and maybe a lazy, sleepy smile.

"It's too late for this."

"To think, there's only this one small wall
separating us..." His voice trailed off and Chris
suddenly froze in bed, not liking the direction this
conversation was taking. Hang up, a voice in his
head told him. Hang up the phone!

"Did I ever tell you about my first time, Chris?"
His name had never sounded so good on someone's
voice before, and his hand tightened on his small
phone. For a moment he was afraid that he'd crush
the frail plastic.

"No," he managed. Or squeaked. Fuuuuuuck...

There was a slight rustling on the other end that
sounded like blankets shifting and Chris swallowed.
"He lived next door to me in Orlando, a guy named
Roger Barrymore. No relation to Drew," Joey's
chuckle was soft and mellow. His voice became
distant. "He was about five years older then me."
A thoughtful pause. "Just like you."

Oh crap.

"And I think I loved him. Can't be sure though, he
didn't stick around long enough for me to be sure.
But he had great hands, and he was really nice and
funny, and he liked me. At least, I like to think
he did." Chris felt himself being lulled into
calmness by the serene sound of Joey's voice, he
started to think that this wasn't an attempt at
seduction at all. He felt his guard drop, tension
ease from his body.

His eyes fluttered shut and he pressed his phone to
his ear, wanting to hear every dip and emotion in
Joey's voice, not wanting to miss a thing.

"We'd only known each other a few days when I could
start to tell he thought of me in a way that I
wasn't use to guys thinking of me. I guess I caught
on by the way he use to touch me, or look at me, or
even talk to me. He had great eyes and they had a
way of just...staring without staring in a way that
made you uncomfortable, you know?"

Chris made a small sound of agreement. He knew.
Joey did it all the time.

"One day he just came out and told me. Told me he
was attracted to me and that he thought about me,
and I was...very flattered. I admired him, looked up
to him. He was the kind of person that I wanted to be
and knowing that someone that I thought that much
about felt that way about someone like me, it meant a
lot. Chris..." his voice got deeper, a little huskier. "I
would of done anything for him. Just like I would do
anything for you."

Chris held his breath at the implications in that
sentence. The sincerity.

"I'm lying in bed thinking about you, thinking
about how you're in the room next to me and I'm
thinking about how you kissed me..." Joey's sigh
was soft and erotic through the phone, and there
was more rustling blankets before the voice came
again. "You felt so good in my arms, Chris, and
I liked being in yours."

There was a pause.

"But I was talking about Roger. We never dated,
exactly. I didn't want that at the time and
neither did he. But one time, when he was at my
house and my parents were gone, I let him kiss
me. He wasn't as good a kisser as you, but at
the time I felt...it was astronomical." Joey
laughed again and Chris smiled at the sound.
"Hey, chalk that up in the record book, Chris, I
just used the word 'astronomical'! But it was,
it was great." Chris could hear the smile in
Joey's voice, then it dipped again and he felt
his heart flutter in his chest.

"His hands, I told you about his hands...they
were rough and callused because he lifted boxes
for a living and they felt so good as they
touched my neck, my arms. They were strong, I
felt totally weak against him, totally in his
control. He could of done anything to me but I
trusted him to not do anything I didn't want to.
They reached into my shirt, ran over my skin, my
stomach, and he kissed me again and again all
over and each time he did I just felt myself
falling deeper and deeper into him. I loved it
when he sucked my neck, my neck is my weak spot,
remember that, Chris..."

Joey was slightly breathless now and his voice
was getting fainter, farther and farther away.
"We were in my room, and he pushed me back on
the bed, I felt nervous, scared, but *so* turned
on, I'd never felt that way before and it was
exhilarating. I felt like I was breathing for
the first time. He was pressing against me,
taking off my clothes, his hands were on my
waist, my hips, they touched me and held me
and oh God..." it came out as a moan and Chris
bit hard into his lower lip.

"He talked to me while he kissed me and touched
me, kept telling me how beautiful and sexy I
was, and for the first time in my life I actually
believed it. I *trusted* him. He spread my knees
apart and I felt him against me, he was so big
and hard and I was terrified because I'd never
thought this would be me, that this would happen
to me and that I would like it so much. He took
me in his hand and started to stroke me and rub
and I felt so turned on, I couldn't breathe, I
couldn't think, I just wanted him, I wanted him
like I'd never wanted anybody before." Joey's
words coming out rushed, and breathless, his
moans were breaking his words and sentences
apart, Chris felt himself reach down into his
covers, felt himself arch his back into his own
hand. God, it'd be so easy...so easy to just
go out the door into the next room...

"I'd never been fucked before," there was a
light smacking of Joey wetting his lips, "I
didn't know what to expect. When he pushed into
me, I was pinned underneath him, moaning and
shaking. He was so big, and I was pushing
against him, begging for more and he just kept
thrusting and kissing me. Oh God, fuck..."
Joey moaned again and the line went silent for
several seconds before the voice came back,
hoarser and lower then it was before. "Over and
over, just 'please, please, oh God, please'..."

Chris felt as if he was going to burst, to fall
apart at the seams from Joey's cries of passion
and lust coming through the phone, so real and
so close. It was as if he were re-living it,
as if was getting off right there with Chris
listening. The very idea that he actually was
made Chris groan in return and he let his hand
wander and stroke himself faster and a little
more desperately.

Hang up the phone. Hangupthephonehangupthephone...

"Chris..." His name came out of Joey's mouth as a
moan, and it was ragged and harsh and out of
breath. There were more moans, the sound of a
headboard knocking against the wall resounded both
over the phone and through the wall that separated
them and Chris was reminded abruptly, suddenly
that Joey was RIGHT. NEXT. DOOR...

"I want you to touch me," Joey rasped. "I want
you here, with me, now...all you have to do is
ask..."

Hangup, hangup, hangup...Chris could see it in his
head. Could picture it so clearly: He'd walk up,
rush to the door, step into Joey's room and just
kiss him and rip off his boxers and...and...

Chris hung up. His phone fell limply from his hand
to the carpeted floor and his hips jerked up from
the bed before he came with a cry of pleasure.

Through the wall, very faint, hardly there, he
heard Joey's own moan. A soft, muffled sigh.

Breathing hard through his mouth, gasping for
breath, Chris closed his eyes and let the last
tremors of pleasure pass through his body before he
fell asleep.






Day four and Joey was...smug. He walked into
Justin's room with a small, private smile on his
face, and a slight swagger. Chris watched him
approach from over the top of his paper, trying
not to be too obvious about it.

"Good morning, Chris."

"Good morning, Joey."

Justin looked back and forth between the two men
and grunted. Ate his cereal.







He had to retaliate, he had to think of something.
Joey was waaaaay ahead and every time he saw the
younger man his brain would lock and he would just
think about what it would feel like to grab him and
touch him and squeeze him through his rumpled
clothing and ... and that would most definitely not
win him any bets.

Although at this point, losing wasn't such a bad
prospect either.

Chris paced his small bedroom, running a hand
through his hair and glancing at the bedside clock.
Two hours before rehearsal, and he could hear Joey
enter the hotel room outside, now would be as a
good a time as any to try something. But what?
A week. A WEEK! Only three more days, he could
last three more days, damn it. He COULD.

Setting his jaw determinedly and straightening out
his clothes, Chris stepped out of his room and saw
Joey lounging on the couch, TV on and coke in hand.

"Chris. Hi," Joey smiled and toasted him briefly
with his coke can before taking a drink. He
blinked innocently. "You sleep well?"

Dressed in a white wife-beater and faded jeans,
Joey was looking subdued and incredibly hot. His
arms were bare and Chris could see the muscles flex
and move every so often.

"Like a baby, mind if I join you?" At Joey's head
shake, Chris took a seat on the other end of the
couch, and for a moment both men sat in silence,
watching Road Runner and Wyle E. Coyote run around
on the television screen.

Then, it hit him. A brilliant, wonderful, evil
idea. He glanced at Joey discreetly and noticed
that he was totally focused, or at least appeared
to be focused, on the show.

Moving casually, Chris swung his legs over on the
couch and sat with his back to the arm rest, eyes
still fixed on the TV. One socked foot hung over
the side as the other remained tucked in against
him.

When Wyle E ran over the cliff, Chris swung his
right foot off the floor and onto Joey's lap. He
smiled a little a when Joey glanced his way. "I'm
just stretching my legs, man, do you mind?"

Joey shifted on the couch, the coke can in his
hand rumpled slightly. "No."

A few tension filled minutes passed, Chris could
feel small tremors and shakes underneath his foot
and he fought a smile, kept his eyes fixed on the
cartoon. He waited until Joey had relaxed before
moving his foot a fraction of an inch closer to
the jean clad crotch and felt with satisfaction
Joey tense up again.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Joey toss an
alarmed look his way, could hear him clear his
throat loudly and take a drink of his coke. But he
made no move to push the foot away.

That would, after all, be giving in.

Fighting the urge to move on too quickly, Chris
waited again. Waited through three commercials
and half a 'Knighty Knight Bugs'. Unlike before,
Joey seemed to tense and shift with each passing
second, now that Chris' intent had become clear.

Chris bobbed his heel and Joey sucked his teeth,
closed his eyes. The coke can was slowly dying a
crushed death.

Chris hadn't looked away from the screen. His
heel lightly grazed Joey's crotch, and he felt
hips shift underneath him, heard Joey's sharp
intake of breath, and fought back a satisfied
chuckle. Oh yeah, now who's the fucking tease?

He could feel Joey hardening against his foot,
and he rubbed the erection with his heel, let
the side of his foot graze it up and down. The
jean material was heavy and rough through his
sock and Joey whimpered, squirmed heavily on the
couch cushions. Chris wanted desperately to
look, to see Joey's face. But he knew if he did
he'd be screwed.

He could picture it though, boy could he picture
it. Joey's face would be flushed and hot, he'd
be licking his lips and his head would be bowed.
His eyes would be shut, and his breath would be
coming out shallow and hot from soft, silky lips.
A sleepy, weakening arousal -- Joey defined the
'bedroom look'.

The foot pressed against him, unmoving, but a
solid, warm presence, and Joey was fighting the
urge to grab the leg, to pull Chris in towards
him. Oh damn...he blinked heavily, felt his body
go limp with pleasure, while he still remained
hard and aching for release. No fair, his
muddied mind told him. No fair...I never
*touched*...

Chris' toes wriggled against his crotch, toyed
with the button and fitted against the flap that
was over the zipper. Again he was struck by how
easy it would be to just reach over and unzip
and unbutton the restraining clothes, to just do
what they both so obviously wanted.

It wasn't even about the money anymore, it was
about who would give in first. And damn both
their pride, they were going to have a serious
case of blue balls when it was over. Unless one
of them gave in.

A moan rattled out of Joey's mouth and Chris bit
his own lip as he pulled his foot away. He
looked away from the screen and met Joey's eyes.
He looked the way Chris knew he would.

Fucking amazing.

Chris looked Joey up and down, his eyes lingering
over the noticeable bulge in the faded jeans.
"You have anything you want to say, Joe?" He was
surprised at the way the words came out. They
were almost threatening. Damn near pleading.

God, just *ask*...*ASK*...

His chest was rising and falling noticeably, there
was a glint to his eyes that Chris had seen
several times before but had never been on the
receiving end of. Joey nodded slowly. "I can
think of a lot of things I wanna say."

Joey stood and practically ran from room. Chris
finally let the chuckles that had been bubbling
up inside him break free and he chalked up a
point on a mental scoreboard for himself.

Three days. He could make it three days. Sure,
Joey was sexy and so, *so* compliant, and he
seemed to know all the right moves but...he did
not have Chris' self-control. And Chris was offering
right then and there and if Joey wanted him half as
much as he let on, he couldn't possibly last. This
was the guy that had once had sex with a girl in a
public dressing room because they couldn't wait to
get back to the hotel. Chris remembered that day
clearly, Joey had made him stand out in front of the
dressing rooms, making sure no one walked in on
them, and he had been grumpy the whole day.

He remembered when Joey walked out. Flushed,
sweaty, his cheeks pink with exertion. He had
walked a little slower, his body folding easily
against the girl's, and mouth slack with
pleasure. His eyes had been so bright, he just
seemed to glow all over...Joey after sex.

What? NO! Chris gave his head a vicious shake
and sprang to his feet. Don't go there,
Kirkpatrick, he growled to himself. Don't go
there...You have the upper hand for the first
time, don't lose it now.

Upper hand? You have a gorgeous, sexy guy who
WON'T sleep with you and THAT'S a GOOD thing?
Right. Suuuure.

Great, even his inner voice was sarcastic.

With a hard sigh, Chris lumbered into his room
and shut the door behind him. He needed another
cold shower.






JC and Lance had just been exiting their room
when Joey burst out of his own, practically
running Lance over and barreling down the hallway
with a hurried apology.

The two watched him disappear around the corner
and exchanged looks. They could hear the shower
turn on in the other room.

"So who's winning and who's losing?" Lance asked,
confused.

"I think both of 'em are," JC shook his head and
cast Lance a sly, side-long glance. "Hey, maybe
we should start our own bet."

Lance just glared.








Joey was pacing. He walked and forth in the
small space of the elevator, running tense hands
through his hair and trying not to think about
Chris and his damn FOOT. Who would of thought
that he had such good...toe control. Joey
couldn't help but laugh out loud at that thought,
the older man was just constantly surprising him.

He closed his eyes and slowly stopped pacing.
Falling back against the elevator wall, Joey
sighed under his breath and absently rubbed at
his stomach, silently willing his erection to go
away.

Chris and his smile, and his energy. What that
energy was capable of...Joey couldn't wait to
find out. And he was an incredible kisser,
amazing with his hands and he used his entire
body so *well*. He fit surprisingly well in
Joey's arms and he wanted nothing more then to
just go back upstairs and feed on that very
feeling. He wanted Chris, wanted his scruffy,
cute, babbling self, and it'd be so damn easy
to just give in. Two simple words: "you win"
and they could just END this stupid bet.

But he wouldn't do it. He wouldn't be the first
to give in. Joey groaned out loud again and ran
a hand down his face. It had been a stupid idea
and now they were stuck with it. What had
started out as more a joke then anything else
was changing *everything*.

Three days. Joey didn't know how he was going
to make it three more days. Well, one thing was
for sure, he wasn't going to make it any easier
for Chris.






Rehearsal had gone well with everyone putting
foreword a grueling twelve hours of solid work
and practice before returning to the hotel
exhausted and starving. JC was sleeping it off
in his room, and Lance and Justin were attacking
the buffet downstairs.

Which left Chris and Joey alone. Again.

Chris, although tired from rehearsal, was on edge
once again. It was Joey's 'turn' to try something
and he had the distinct impression that it wouldn't
take much to push him over the edge at this point.
His defenses were down, he was exhausted, and Joey
was looking better and better with each passing
moment.

"Drink?" Joey asked from the kitchen, standing in
the blast of cool air that was emanating from the
open fridge door.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Coke." Chris sat tensely on the
couch, not daring to look behind him as he heard
the fridge door close and Joey approach. A can
waved in front of his face and he took the cool
can, slick with condensation, and popped it open
with a shaking hand. "Thank...you," he said, voice
halting.

"You're wel...come," Joey teased and crouched
foreword to lean against the couch, his arms
folded over the back and his own can in his hand.
He didn't sit down, seemingly content to stand.
"I think rehearsal went well," he started. "Lance
did 'It's Gonna Be Me' with hardly any mistakes."

"Uh huh..."

"JC kinda screwed up on 'Bye Bye Bye' but his
voice was kickin' as usual." Joey took a drink
and reached for the remote. "Wonder what's on..."

What was he doing? What was his plan? He was
plotting something, Chris was sure he was. But
he was making him sweat it out, he was making him
suffer. Chris' foot bounced against the floor
and he frowned intently at the screen. He could
feel the heat radiating off Joey's arm, could
sense his presence so close by, if his arm slipped
just a little then they'd be touching. But they
weren't.

"You okay, dude? You seem tense." Joey's voice
was light, friendly. Smarmy.

"Tense? Who's tense? I'm not tense, *you're*
tense, don't call me..." Chris clamped his mouth
shut to cut off his rambling. Smooth, Chris, he
thought to himself. Real, freaking, smooth.

Joey chuckled lightly and handed Chris his coke
can which the older man took with a light grunt
before placing on the coffee table. "You're
tense, it was a long, hard rehearsal." Chris
noticed that there had been a slight emphasis on
the words 'long' and 'hard'.

When two hands fell on his shoulders, Chris
nearly dropped his can and he felt his back
stiffen at the touch.

"Relax..." Joey's voice was smooth and soothing.
He reached down and took the can from Chris'
limp fingers, put it on the floor next to his
foot. "I promise, I give amazing neck rubs."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Chris muttered, but
he felt his head falling back against the couch
despite reason telling him not to, felt his eyes
slip shut.

Joey's hand were strong and skilled on his neck
and shoulders as they kneaded the flesh and
muscles, pushing away the tension and strain of
the work-out. Chris felt as if a weight was
being gradually lifted off his shoulders, bit by
bit, and Joey's hands kept moving, running all
over his neck.

"This'll be easier if you take off your shirt."

Chris moved without hesitation, lifting the
constricting fabric over his head before tossing
it aside and sitting back again, not once opening
his eyes.

A soft sigh escaped his lips when Joey's hands
returned, and the sigh turned into a gasp when
light fingers brushed over his neck and throat.
Joey was looming over him, watching his face
carefully for reaction, and Chris fought to keep
his face neutral, trying not to let the pleasure
he felt show through, but he was straining, his
body squirming a little on the couch. The hands
continued to move on his shoulders, rubbing him
and forcing his body to go limp and boneless
with pleasure from the gentle ministrations. If
Chris opened his eyes, he knew he would be
screwed. It would just take one look and this
whole thing would be over.

Then Joey's hands began to wander.

They slid down his shoulders to Chris' chest,
continued to stroke and trail and rub. He heard
Joey's intake of breath, and he bit down on his
tongue to hold back his own moans. Joey's hand
continued to sink lower and lower until it was
resting on the waist of Chris' jeans and his lips
were pressed to Chris' throat. Teeth scraped
lightly over the skin and he pressed into the
contact.

"Oh fuck..." Chris breathed when Joey's tongue
darted out to lick and suck at the pulse point on
his neck. Joey's hand rested lightly on the
front of his jeans...not moving, but just sitting,
waiting.

Chris opened his eyes and found himself staring up
into an intense, wanting gaze. Like being caught
by a hypnotist, he couldn't look away. Joey
leaned in, caught his mouth in a kiss which Chris
eagerly returned, his tongue meeting with Joey's
as they waged a silent war inside each other's
mouths. Lips pressed together hard and noses
bumped, Chris brought a hand up to the back of
Joey's neck and held his mouth against his own
harder and closer; his hips bucked up into Joey's
pressing hand.

Pulling away just long enough to vault over the
back of the couch and push Chris back against the
cushions, Joey quickly started the assault on his
mouth again, while grinding his hips down and
against the other man's. Hands pulled at his
shirt, lifting it up and off his body; he gasped
and shivered as Chris brought his knee up between
Joey's legs.

"Chris..." he hissed through clenched teeth then
took hold of his knee and used it to spread his
legs apart and crawl between them. "You do
realize that you're ONE letter away from being
'Christ'?" Joey began to kiss down his chest,
licking and sucking at flesh and skin, causing
goosebumps and sweat to break out on the slim
chest. He took a nipple into his mouth and
sucked and bit lightly, causing a moan of
pleasure and pain.

"Oh God, you bastard..." Chris felt Joey's hands
holding his hips pinned to the cushions, felt
Joey going lower and lower down his body, his
lips and tongue pressing kisses all over his
chest and stomach. He felt himself straining
against the tight confines of his jeans, his
breath hitching in his throat.

Joey's mouth covered his jean clad crotch. He
sucked and licked the fabric until it was damp
and hot with his ministrations, and Chris
thrashed his hips wildly, aching to be in Joey's
mouth. Joey's fingers were digging into his
waist, pulling at the belt and button of his
pants, but then...he stopped.

A protest died in Chris' throat, he felt too
out of it, too lost in his own lust and madness
to put a voice to ANYTHING.

When Joey pulled away, both were breathless, both
panting. Chris had never seen such a look of
desperation in his friend's eyes. "Say it," Joey
growled. "Fucking *say it*, Chris!"

He opened his mouth, his hand tightened on the
back of Joey's neck. "You w - "

The phone rang and Joey's eyes widened in
disbelief. "No...NO!"

Chris groaned, felt a shudder wrack his body as
his hand slipped from the back of Joey's shoulder
and the hands fell away from his body. It was
like someone had splashed a cup of cold water on
his face and he blinked hard, rubbed his face.
Saved by the bell or cursed by bad timing? The
ringing of the phone was shrill and way too loud.
Joey crawled off Chris' body, his legs jello
underneath him.

Chris crawled up onto a sitting position on the
couch, feeling as if he had just run a marathon.
He was sore all over with this continuing tease
his body was being put through. He wanted Joey,
he wanted his best friend in the most desperate
sort of way, but...

Joey was swearing a blue streak, kicking the coke
can and sending it flying across the room leaving
a mid-air trail of brown, fizzy liquid in its
wake. He was not taking it well at all, and that,
at least, made Chris fairly confident that if he
hadn't been willing to give in, Joey most
certainly would of.

He picked up the phone, gripped the plastic hard
in his right hand. "WHAT?!" He realized he was
screaming, but didn't care.

There was a pause at the other end before Lance's
tentative voice came through. "Did I call at a
bad time?"

Chris looked over at Joey who was standing with
his arms crossed over his chest and a stormy look
on his face. He quickly looked away. "Yeah, but
I think you just saved me a thousand bucks."






JC was dozing in and out sleep on the couch.
Lance was checking his e-mail. Justin was playing
a light game of tug and war with Busta, baring his
teeth and trying to get some sort of reaction out
of the small pug dog. Needless to say the game
was pretty much one-sided.

Joey sat at the small kitchen table of the hotel
room, playing with the neck of a beer bottle, and
taking small, measured drinks.

Chris sat across from him, his head bent over his
plate as he picked at his sandwich, studiously
trying NOT to look at Joey. The whole room was
quiet and mellow, these were rare occasions when
the group didn't have to be anywhere or do anything,
and they all seemed content to enjoy the silence
together.

Taking another bite of his sandwich, Chris chewed
and let his thoughts drift towards the man that sat
in front of him. The past few days had been some
of the most arousing, heated, fun, hard days of his
life. He had never fought and wanted something so
much, and he almost didn't want it to end in three
days time. Of course, the operative word was
'almost'. But there was something that was
bothering him, a nagging little voice that wouldn't
leave him alone, that threatened to spoil his fun.

What if Joey's dart had hit someone *else*? Then it
wouldn't be the two of them playing this little
game, it would be Joey and someone else. Lance?
JC? Justin? If Joey's dart had gone a little to
the left or right, it wouldn't of been Chris at all,
and the last four days wouldn't of happened. Four
of the most intense, exciting days of his life.

But as he looked up and watched Joey drink his beer,
his fingers tapping idly on the table top, another
thought occurred: did it really matter? Chris was
not one to believe in fate or kismet or the Hand of
God, but maybe, just maybe...Joey's dart had hit
him for a reason. Maybe this was Meant To Be in
big freaking capital letters. Then again, maybe not.
What did Chris want out to come out of this week?
Sex, for sure. But...was there anything else? Did
it go deeper?

Swallowing hard a lump of sandwich in his throat,
suddenly no longer hungry, Chris realized that maybe
he did. It was lonely on the road, and Joey was a
nice warm body, with a nice warm personality to
match.

The question came up again, unbidden, in his mind.
What if it hadn't been *him*? What if it had been
someone else?

At the sound of someone softly clearing his throat,
Chris looked up suspiciously to see Joey staring
off in another direction, still drinking his beer
and apparently oblivious. Frowning uncomfortably,
feeling the familiar sensation of dread and
anticipation creeping up on him, Chris pushed his
chair a fraction away from the table.

Joey continued to drink and then, inexplicably,
he leaned foreword and rested his head on the
table, pressing his cheek against the smooth wood
finish and closing his eyes, beer bottle still in
hand.

"Joey?"

The younger man grunted a response.

"You tired?"

Joey sighed and his fingers twitched on the brown
glass. "A little bit, yeah."

The room seemed to let out a yawn at this, and
Chris smiled slightly as he stared down at Joey's
brown and red dyed head. He couldn't resist
putting out a hand and running it through the soft,
silky strands. He rested his own chin on the table
top as he continued to stroke the younger man's
hair. Joey's eyes were slowly drifting shut and
Chris stifled a yawn of his own.

At the couch, Lance stretched his arms above his
head and let out a jaw cracking yawn. Closing his
lap top with a sigh and rubbing his eyes, he
looked over to see JC slumped over the arm of the
couch, his mouth hanging open in sleep. On the
floor, Justin was lying on his back with Busta
sitting on his chest licking at his face.

Lance turned to the kitchen, mouth open to suggest
a movie but he immediately shut it and smiled
broadly.

"Hey, Just, take a look at that."

Picking Busta up off his chest, Justin looked over
to the kitchen and smiled as he saw that Joey and
Chris had both fallen asleep at the table, Chris'
hand resting against Joey's face. "Aw, ain't they
cute? That should be on a Hallmark card or
somethin'."

Lance snickered and then looked back over to JC,
picked up a couch cushion, and whipped it at the
sleeping man's head.

"Wha? I'm...what...I'm up, and..." JC muttered
mindlessly as he came awake and glared up at Lance
who stood smiling smugly over him. "You woke me
up, ya schmuck!"

"Keep your voice down," Lance chastised. "You'll
wake the love birds." He inclined his head in
the direction of the table and JC's frown turned
into a smile at the sight.

"Heh...they make a charming couple, don't they?"

"Yeah, like a normal relationship on Acid. Come
on, let's go and leave them alone." Lance pulled
JC to his feet and waited for Justin to gather
Busta up in his arms. "You taking the mutt?"

"I don't want him waking them," Justin said,
smiling at the dog and nuzzling him with his own
nose. "Besides, we're getting along now, I want
him to stay with me."

JC chuckled. "First Chris and Joey, now you and
Busta...I don't know which couple is weirder."

"We're cuter," Justin said, lifting Busta up and
making a face.

"That's an arguable point."

The three men tiptoed around the kitchen table
quietly before walking out the door, their voices
carrying lightly behind them.

"So, who do you think is going to cave first?"

"Joey," JC said without hesitation. "The man has
NO will power."

Lance sniffed. "I say Chris...he's has taken
enough cold showers this week to fill an Olympic
sized swimming pool."

"You're the deciding vote, Just, who do you think
will cave first?"

Justin merely shrugged. "I don't know. Either
way the results will be pretty much the same,
won't they?"








Chris came awake with a stiff neck and something
warm and scruffy pressing up against his hand.

"Busta?"

Blinking away the last remains of sleep and pushing
himself up into a sitting position, he grimaced as
he felt his back inform him on no uncertain terms
he was NOT to fall asleep like that again. He
looked down at his hand and saw that it was not
Busta he was petting, it was a very much asleep
Joey.

He smiled and picked up where he left off before
by stroking Joey's hair, causing the young man to
sigh in his sleep. Chris contemplated the
possibilities of this situation: he was awake,
Joey wasn't, and he was in desperate need of
gaining the upper hand. Just thinking about the
whole ordeal on the couch was leaving him
frustrated.

But Joey looked so...nice. And peaceful. He
didn't want to ruin it just yet. It would be like
running a thumb down a painting that had not yet
fully dried. So Chris just sat, as still and quiet
as he had ever been.

Chris let his eyes trail over the soft curve of
Joey's cheek that showed just the faintest traces
of stubble. He had gone back to shaving again, and
the skin was smooth and pink underneath. His
fingers skidded over the cheek, causing it to
twitch a little, and for Joey to purse his lips.

Eyelashes, a little too long and dark for any guy,
fluttered and pressed against his cheekbone, and
Chris brushed the back of his finger lightly there,
using only the lightest of feather touches. He
sighed heavily, trying to remember exactly what it
was like four days ago when Joey was his buddy and
that was about it. Well, no, that wasn't
completely true -- Joey was more than his 'buddy',
Chris didn't know what Joey was. Didn't know what
Joey would be after the week was over.

His hand dropped away, fell back onto the table
and Joey opened his eyes.

"Don't stop."

Chris bit his lip. "Joe..."

With a soft sound of frustration, Joey got up and
moved to kneel in front of Chris and held his face
in his hands. "I think I'm going nuts, so just
don't say anything for a minute, okay?" At Chris'
dull nod, somewhat restrained by Joey's hands,
he leaned in slowly and brushed his lips lightly
against Chris'; melted against him when he felt
two tentative hands touch his waist.

Joey let out soft, mewling whimper, the kind of
sound that Busta growled at, and his head fell
foreword on the broken, limp hinge of his neck to
rest against Chris'. When he pulled back, his
eyes were deep warm pools that Chris felt himself
sinking into, felt himself getting consumed in.

"Okay, Chris..." Joey's voice, soft, whispered,
felt wonderful hushed against his lips. "I give.
Can we have sex now? Please?"

Sorry, what was that? Chris blinked numbly.

"Chris, I want you." Another kiss, this one
harder, longer and Chris felt the heat from his
lips spread throughout his entire body. He held
Joey tighter, and their chests pressed roughly
together as the younger man twisted in between
Chris' legs. He gasped at the contact and
quickly turned his head to kiss Joey's neck,
nipping lightly with his teeth at the jugular
and tracing his tongue over a soft, pink earlobe.

A low, feral sound escaped Joey's throat and Chris
was suddenly pulled to his feet. He felt himself
being dragged in the direction of the bedroom -
who's he had no idea, it didn't really matter. A
hand was at the button of his jeans, tugging it
undone and zipping down the fly until real,
blissful contact engulfed him and he thought he
would just come right there, standing nearly fully
clothed, with Joey's mouth on his.

Joey was kissing down his throat, pulling up his
shirt and lifting it up over his head and now he
could feel light cotton brushing his naked chest.
Joey's mouth continued to travel down his chest,
across his stomach, and his fingers traced small
circles on his hips as his jeans dropped to his
ankles.

Chris could feel his legs weakening underneath him,
he put two shaking hands on Joey's shoulders who
now kneeled before him, as if in prayer, and ran
one hand through the soft hair. "Joey..." it came
out as a growl, a moan, an accumulation of four
very long days.

Soft, wet lips kissed his stomach, a tongue
darted out to swirl his bellybutton and then a
light bite was placed on his hip, his thigh...

Joey looked up, hair hanging over his face and his
eyes dark with too much to read. He licked his
lips slowly and let out a slow breath that Chris
felt down to the bone. "You're gonna wanna lie
down."

His world swerved as Joey pushed him back onto the
bed, his shoulders and head buried in soft, white
pillows, and then his world exploded when Joey took
him into his mouth, engulfing him wet, hot pleasure.

Chris was pretty sure he screamed, screamed loud
enough to be heard all over the world. Or maybe he
didn't have the breath for all that -- suddenly,
Chris wasn't sure of anything. He felt as if he had
been narrowed down to one body part as everything
else shut down in resistence to the intense
pleasure he was feeling. His back arched, his hips
thrust of their own accord, he was saying Joey's
name over and over again and he wasn't in control
of any of it. He felt as if he were a spectator in
his own body.

Lips were incredibly, impossibly soft around his
cock, and Joey's tongue swirled and licked inside
his mouth while at the same time he sucked hard
enough that Chris feared he'd be buried in the
younger man's throat. And Joey's hand continued to
wander, continued to touch and caress and just
trail over Chris' chest and legs and whatever else
was exposed and naked.

He came with a loud cry, his hand gripped hard,
too hard, in Joey's hair and with Joey's hands
holding tightly to his hips so he couldn't pull
away. Sweat ran down his face and Chris fell
limply back onto the covers, his body humming
with relief and pleasure of release.

"God..."

Joey crawled onto the bed, straddled him and kissed
him softly, slipping his tongue deeply into his
mouth so he could taste himself on the younger man
and he groaned, returning the kiss as much as his
body would allow. Words like 'I love you' floated
through his mind but he didn't say them.

"Joe?" His hand slipped between the elastic of
Joey's sweat pants and boxers and he held his
breath at the silky warmth it came in contact with.
He stroked him carefully, watching Joey's face
closely for reaction. "There's stuff in the drawer."

Biting his lip and nodding mutely, Joey bent down
and kissed him again, a hot, searing kiss that
caused Chris to moan become half-hard again.
As Joey reached for the bedside table, Chris
worked on Joey's pants, pulling them off with the
boxer briefs and throwing them aside. He eyed
the broad chest that was covered by a light blue
shirt and quickly started work on the buttons and
didn't stop until he was done and the muscular
chest was exposed. He ran his hands over the
smooth skin, feeling the heart beat under his palm,
and he sucked lightly on a nipple, working the flesh
with his tongue and teeth.

Joey groaned and twisted on top of him his breath
coming out in a hard, forced gust. "Stop, or this'll be
over very, very fast, Chris..." Joey smiled as Chris
detached his mouth and leaned in to kiss him softly
again. "And I plan on getting my thousand bucks
worth."

A light chuckle and Chris sighed as Joey's weight
lifted off him slightly, he felt the cold loss of
the other man abruptly and he ran his hands over
Joey's hips and chest, watching them move with a
sort of awed gratefulness over the beautifully
flawed body. He tried to say it again, 'I love you',
but the words still wouldn't leave his mouth, he felt
them strangle in his throat.

"Chris, I want..." Joey bit his lip, reached over
to turn on the bedside lamp and the dark room was
suddenly bathed in a warm yellow glow. Joey's
face was close to his, their noses nearly touching
and he kissed his cheek lightly in a closed
mouthed peck. "Do you understand?" Joey's voice
was soft and mumbled against his ear. "I've felt
this way forever, it's not just some stupid bet,
okay? It's always been you."

Voice barely a whisper, Chris managed a soft,
"Okay" before Joey smiled and bent over him again,
kissing every part of his face and stroking him
gently with his hand.

With a hiss of arousal, Chris bucked his hips and
became dimly aware that Joey was putting a condom
onto him, lubing it liberally with something that
was cold and odourless. And as Joey continued to
tease him with grazing, light touches, Chris let
out a low growl and flipped him over so that he
was on top with Joey pinned beneath him.

Spreading his legs, and wrapping them around his
own waist, Chris kissed Joey again before pushing
in slowly, willing himself not just mindlessly start
thrusting into the other man. But God, that was so
hard when Joey was so tight and hot and submissive
under him. He moaned into Joey's mouth, felt a light
tremble under his hands and Joey pushed his hips up
slightly, willing Chris to continue.

Soon, they were moving together, Chris pushing in
and out of Joey harder and faster as the younger
man gasped in a shattering combination of pleasure
and pain. "God, please, Chris...don't stop..." The
blankets were fisted in Joey's hands, and Chris
kissed him feverishly, willing him to relax a little more
as he stroked and pumped Joey further and further to
climax.

As Joey tightened around his cock, his body
tensing and his legs cinching hard around Chris'
waist, he pressed his mouth to Joey's neck and
sucked hard on the tender, vulnerable flesh.

"Joe..." He barely got the name out, his voice
hoarse and his breath stolen, but as he came and
felt Joey following close behind, the world
seemed to both collapse and stop around them,
holding still for that single, perfect moment.

Chris fell on top of him, spent and sated. He
kissed weakly soft, wet cheeks and rolled gently
onto his side, pulling Joey against him. He
watched the gentle rise and fall of the chest,
and laid his hand on top of it. With his other
hand he grabbed Joey's and brought it to his lips,
planted soft, butterfly kisses.

The words came easily, ringing with truth. "I
love you."

Joey's face beamed and he rested his head against
Chris' shoulder, but said nothing. Chris smiled
and kissed his bicep. "Would it make you feel
cheap if I asked for that grand, now?"





* * *




They were sitting in another dressing room, another
show had ended, and Chris held the darts in his
hand, basking in the attention that Joey was
giving him. He weighed the plastic and steel, let
the silver tip catch the light before throwing it
like an arrow towards the perfect, round target.

It didn't hit bullseye, but it was pretty damn
close and Joey applauded from his seat. Chris
turned to look at him, took in the lean body with
the long limb thrown over the chair's bulky
arm.

"Aren't you gonna play, dude?"

Joey just shook his head and continued to smile.
"No thanks, I'd rather watch."

Another dart flew and this time landed a little
off to the right of the first one. With the
light thunk of impact, Chris frowned and stared
down at his hand where the last dart remained.
It had been nearly a week since that whole
business with their bet, and still the same
question nagged at him and irritated him. It was
like a cold black brushstroke through the
relationship. If what they had could even be
considered a relationship.

Sensing the other man's discomfort, Joey tilted
his head to the side. "What's wrong, Chris?"

"I - it's nothing. Nothing that I should be
bugging about."

He gave another easy, Joey-esque smile. "Tell
me anyway."

The dart twirled in his hand, Chris rolled it
between his fingers, and he had to use all his
strength to lift his head up to meet Joey's
eyes. He held up the dart. "Say you hadn't hit
me, say it had been Lance or Justin or JC. Then
we wouldn't be here together, and that week never
would of happened."

Joey frowned. "Chris..."

"Look, I know I'm being an idiot, it doesn't
matter *how* it happened, just that it happened,
but..."

"Chris, shut up a moment, huh?" Joey got to his
feet and squeezed Chris' shoulder through his
leather jacket. "You lied to me."

"*What*?" Chris tried to jerk out of Joey's grip
but he couldn't break free and he glared at the
younger man with angry eyes. "I did not!"

"Yes, you did," Joey said softly. "That night
I asked you if you understood. If you understood
that it had *always* been you, and you said 'yes'."

"I - " Chris shut his mouth for a moment, tried
to slow his racing thoughts. "You said it was
always me, but that's not true, Joe. It was
only me because of some silly random shot."

Joey was silent for a moment, looking down at
Chris with what seemed like a distant sort of
amusement and disapproval. He took the dart
from Chris' hand, turned to face the dartboard
mounted on the wall and lifted his hand. Made a
great show of covering his eyes.

The dart flew.

Bullseye.

Turning his head, Joey smiled. "Christopher,
you should of noticed...I aimed BEFORE you
blindfolded me."

Speechless, Chris could only stare from Joey to
the board open mouthed and stupafied. "You -
you've been *letting* me win?!" he said out loud
but inwardly he kept thinking: He wanted it to
be me. He aimed for me. It was meant to be me.
It was always me.

Joey shrugged easily, pulled Chris into his arms
and kissed him gently, probingly on the mouth.
"Does it matter?" He rubbed his cheek against
Chris' and sighed happily against his neck.
"And in case you are totally dense...I love you,
too."

Chris smiled, kissed him back. "I can still
kick your ass at air hockey, though."

A sly smile and Joey let his hands drift.
"Really? Wanna bet?"


============
End