Date: Fri, 16 Nov 2001 09:16:24 -0500
From: Writer Boy <writerboy69@hotmail.com>
Subject: jc's hitchhiker - part 19

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

1) If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or
you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You
shouldn't be here.

2) I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no
way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or
anything else.  This is a work of pure fiction.

Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I know I
said at the end of the last part that the story was done for a while, if
not for good, but after two weeks away (which only looked like one to you,
since I sent in the chapters every day for a week after I finished) I
thought of some new places to go.

So, without further ado, back to the story in progress.

***

After we talked, Josh fell back asleep, his head resting in my chest as he
pressed against me. I ran my fingers over his hair, staring up at the
ceiling, thinking about how lucky I was to have him, and how lucky we both
were not to have thrown this away.  His hair, just below my face, smelled
faintly of smoke, and I felt a twinge of guilt realizing that he'd been so
sure he'd driven me away that all he could think of to do was go to a
strange bar somewhere and drink. That was extremely unlike him, and it
drove the whole point home to me again that he had felt as much pain as I
had, if not more.

With as much as we had gone through, though, I was still concerned about
the other guys.  Justin and Lance had both had time to patch things up with
me, but neither of them had talked to Josh, and I wasn't sure if Josh
really wanted to talk to them right now, anyway.  Justin's actions were
pretty confusing, even after he'd explained them, and I think Lance was
still several apologies away from being completely forgiven. I still had a
lot of issue with his behavior, despite the fact that he and I had agreed
to try to get along for Josh's sake, and I couldn't imagine what Josh
thought about him after hearing all the things he'd said.

I sighed, shifting a little, and Josh clung even tighter to me, letting out
a little whimpering noise. Even in his sleep he was afraid I'd leave him
again. We had a lot to rebuild, but I think we'd both learned a lesson
about being honest with each other.

With that thought in mind, I fell back to sleep.

When I woke up again, Josh was still out cold, breathing softly against my
chest. My arm was asleep, from the warm weight of him pressing against it,
and I carefully pulled it out from under him and began gently working it
back and forth, wincing at the pins and needles feeling of blood
returning. I carefully slid out of bed, trying very hard not to wake him,
but still Josh's hand flailed out, trying to reach me.

"No," he murmured, still half asleep, his fingers crawling across the empty
sheet.

His eyes were still closed, and I gently kissed both lids.

"Shhhhh," I soothed. "Go to sleep, Josh, it's ok."

"Promise," he mumbled, his face crushed against the pillow.

"Promise," I whispered back, smoothing his hair back and kissing his
forehead.

The sheet had pulled back when I got up, and I grabbed the end of it,
slowly sliding it back up over him. His smooth back still had bruises and
scratches from the other night, lightly scattered over the tanned expanse
of muscle that fell in a natural V to his waist. I saw the powder burns
from the airbag on both his arms, angry red against the muscle, blemishes
on his velvety skin, and I winced, thinking again of the pain we'd both
gone through in the past day. I looked down at him again after I dropped
the edge of the sheet onto his corded, strong neck, and thought again about
how lucky we were.

Brushing my teeth, I thought about going out to look at the cars, to see
how bad it might be in daylight, but I decided against it, not wanting Josh
to wake up in an empty apartment. Instead I went to the kitchen and began
trying to force the monstrosity on the counter to stop withholding coffee
from me. How none of us had managed yet to throw it onto the floor was
beyond me, but every morning I spent pleading with it to give me just one
cup of caffeine was another morning closer to death for that machine. I
made myself some toast, and while it was in I ducked back into the bedroom
and pulled on a t-shirt and sweatpants, not sure which of us they belonged
to, but really not caring.

I left the bedroom door open, and when I heard Josh beginning to stir, I
popped in some toast for him as well, changing the setting so that it would
be light, the way he liked it. As I was buttering it, and sprinkling the
cinnamon on, I heard Josh groan.

"Jack?" he asked quietly.

"Right here, Josh," I said, kneeling by the side of the bed.

Josh was curled up on his side, facing me, and I brushed his hair back out
of his eyes. He nuzzled against my hand.

"How do you feel?" I asked, gently caressing the side of his face, feeling
the bristle of his morning whiskers.

"Bad," he sighed. "Really bad. I feel sick."

"I thought you might," I said, handing him a glass of water. "Drink this,
little sips."

"Thanks," he said. His voice was low, and sounded a little scratchy. He set
the glass on the nightstand by the bed.

"You drank quite a bit last night," I said. "So you're probably going to
feel kind of hungover. Do you remember what happened?"

"Everything," he whispered. His eyes began to water. "Jack, I'm so, so
sorry."

"Shhh," I soothed again. I leaned over and kissed his forehead. "We already
talked about this, Josh. And I'm sorry, too."

"But the cars," Josh began.

"No one cares about the cars, Josh," I said, stroking his face, swiping
away his tears.  "We're just glad you're ok."

"But Jack," Josh began again. I put a finger over his lips.

"No, Josh," I said. "We can talk about it later if you want, but not now.
Right now I just care about you. How does the rest of you feel?"

He swallowed.

"I have a headache, kind of," he said. "And my whole body is kind of sore."

"That's probably from the accident," I said, losing myself in his
eyes. They were still filled up with tears. "When I got in a car wreck, my
arms were sore for days from holding the wheel."

"My arms hurt, too," he said, drawing a hissing breath as he ran his hand
over the burns.

"The doctor said there was some cream we can get for that," I said, wishing
I could just take the pain away somehow. "I can go get it later."

"Thank you," he said, staring up at me. His lip trembled, as if something
else was fighting its way out. "I love you so much, Jack, and I'm so
sorry."

"No more with the sorry," I said quickly, as Josh reached up slowly to
flick my own tears away. "I made you some toast, with the cinnamon like you
like it, and I want you to eat it. It'll soak up some of the acid in your
stomach. While you eat it, I'm going to run downstairs and see if Chris has
some Tylenol or something, ok?"

"You'll be right back?" he asked, eyes wide.

"I promise," I said. "Now drink this water while I'm gone, and try to eat
the toast. Maybe if you feel up to it we'll have some juice when I come
back, ok?"

"Sure," Josh answered, dutifully reaching for the water. I pushed the
garbage can over, closer to him.

"Just in case," I said, pointing at it.

He nodded and grimaced. I had a sudden urge, almost motherly, to just scoop
him up and fold him in my arms, and somehow make him all better. I prayed
the day wouldn't end with me standing over the stove making chicken soup
and sandwiches with the crust cut off, and wondered why I was suddenly
feeling so sentimental. Regardless, if he wanted to stay in bed all day, it
was fine with me. I thought about putting the stereo on, maybe with
something relaxing, but then thought the noise might bother him, so I
quietly left the apartment and ran down the stairs to Chris's.

I knocked, and then fidgeted, dancing from foot to foot waiting for the
door to open.

"Chris, hi, I," I began, turning, but it wasn't Chris who answered the
door.  "Oh, I'm sorry."

The girl who answered the door was easily six feet tall, if not more, and
wearing some sort of barely covering halter and skirt ensemble that left no
doubt that there was nothing underneath. It was rather wrinkled, as if it
had spent the night crumpled on the floor, but on a woman like this even
wrinkled was flattering. Her catlike green eyes peered at me inquisitively
over large cheekbones, and her smile, although a tiny movement of the
severe slash that was her mouth, was friendly.

"Gut morning," she said huskily.

"I know you!" I exclaimed. "You're one of the models we danced with at the
club the other night! I'm Jack. Is Chris up yet?"

"Da," she answered. "Chrees?"

Chris appeared in the door, only as tall as her shoulder. She towered over
both of us.

"Hey, Jack," he said, smiling, wearing only boxers and a tour t-shirt.
"Everything ok?"

"Do you have any Tylenol?" I asked. "Josh doesn't keep any drugs in the
apartment."

"Yeah, sure," Chris said. "I was just about to walk Vlada out to a cab, and
then I'll grab it for you."

I stepped aside and watched them walk out. Vlada's knee-high boots made a
flat clacking noise on the courtyard tiles, and Chris padded along barefoot
next to her, casually gripping her upper arm with one of his, but otherwise
not touching. A lot of women will do the walk of shame in the morning,
skulking out of apartments on their way back to theirs as if praying no one
sees them, but Vlada walked as if down the runway, head high and shoulders
back. Chris gave her a quick peck on the cheek as they stood in the
archway, and then waved. I heard a car pulling away, and assumed it was a
cab taking her back to her place.

"Sorry about that," I said, as Chris rejoined me.

"Oh, don't be," Chris said, opening his door for me. "She was on her way
out."

"I didn't realize you were seeing anyone," I said, standing in Chris's
living room, a virtually identical copy of Josh's upstairs.

"I'm not," Chris said, emerging from the bathroom with a lit cigarette in
his mouth and a bottle of Tylenol in his hand. "How is Josh this morning?"

"He's in some pain," I said. "I have to go later and grab that cream for
his arms, but the doctor said it's over the counter stuff, and I can just
grab it at the drug store."

"This is probably kind of personal, and if you don't want to answer, that's
ok, but how are you guys?" Chris asked.

"I think we're good," I replied, sitting on the back of the couch. "We had
a talk this morning, and I think we're ok, but we've got some stuff to work
on. He's pretty upset right now, but I think some of that is hangover, and
he's worried about the cars."

"Tell him not to," Chris said, shaking his head.

"I already did, but it'll probably help when he hears it from you," I said.
"I better get back upstairs. Thanks for the Tylenol."

"No problem," Chris said, seeing me to the door. "Hey, Jack, are you a
runner?"

"Yeah, why?" I asked, momentarily thrown by the non-sequitor.

"Because I jog in the mornings, and I don't really have anyone to go with,"
Chris said.  "JC and Justin are gym boys, Lance works out with some church
group or something, and Joey just doesn't. You think you'd like to hit the
neighborhood with me?"

"I'd like that a lot, actually," I said, feeling included. "Tomorrow?"

"Sure," he said, waving me away.

When I got back to the apartment, Josh was still in bed, curled up on his
side. The water glass was empty, but there was only one bite taken out of
the toast. I sat down on the edge of the bed, and he rolled toward me.

"No deal with the toast?" I asked.

"No," Josh answered weakly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," I said. "You'll be better soon. I'll go get you some more
water, and you an take some of these, and then I want you to go back to
sleep, ok?"

When I came back with the water and the Tylenol, Josh was holding his
pillow, sobbing softly into it. I put my hand on his shoulder, feeling him
tremble, and he jumped. Turning toward me, he swiped roughly at his eyes
with his hand.

"Josh, what's wrong?" I asked. This level of angst was all out of
proportion to what was going on. "Why are you crying?"

"Because I don't deserve you," he said, staring up at me. His bottom lip
trembled, and his eyebrows were scrunched together. "I did a really bad
thing, Jack."

"No more," I said, cutting him off again. "We already talked about
this. You only did half a bad thing, if you insist on taking the blame. I
did the other half, and you're not doing yourself any good being this upset
about it. That's probably half of the reason why you can't eat right now."

"But Jack," he began again.

"Later, Josh, please," I said. "Right now I don't care about any of it, I
don't. We're both here, and I'm not leaving. I just want to get you out of
this bed, and on your feet, and then later we can talk about whatever you
want to, but I need you to be ok first, and you're never going to be if you
keep doing this. I love you, Josh, and it's tearing me up to see you sick,
so please, let's just work on getting you up and around, and the rest can
wait, ok?"

"Yes, ok," he agreed, blinking. "I love you, Jack."

"I love you, too," I answered. "Now take your Tylenol, and then I'm going
to get in the shower so I can get to a drugstore, ok?"

"OK," Josh answered.

When I got out of the shower, Josh was asleep again. I watched him while I
got dressed, seeing his face twist as he pulled at the sheets, and wondered
what he could be dreaming about. Something was going on that I didn't know
about, but what? Why did he seem to be in so much pain? Had the doctor
missed something? Was he maybe injured in some way that none of us knew
about? But why would he hide it? I peeled the sheet down to look him over
again. I didn't see any suspicious bruising, and nothing looked swollen,
but I wasn't a doctor. All the medical knowledge I had came from watching
"ER", and that didn't really qualify me to triage Josh. I tucked the sheet
back up, and made sure the water glass by the bed was full before I went
down to the pool, leaving Josh a note that I went to the courtyard for some
air, and would be right back if he needed anything.

As I collapsed onto one of the lounge chairs, I noticed four suitcases
standing beside the archway, and wondered what was going on. Britney and
Justin stepped into the courtyard, followed by a cabbie.

"Justin, could you help bring the bags out?" Britney asked. "I want to talk
to Jack for a minute."

"Sure," Justin answered, nodding to me as I waved casually at him. He
grabbed two bags, and the cabbie took two, and then Britney and I were
alone in the courtyard.  She settled down on the edge of the lounge next to
me.

"What's up?" I asked, trying to read her mood behind her sparkly purple
sunglasses.

"I just want to talk to you for a second," she said. "You know, before I
leave. We started to talk yesterday, and we never got to finish."

"Yeah," I said, shaking my head as if to shake out the memory of everything
that had happened.

"I was wondering if maybe I could ask you a favor," Brit began.

"Ask away," I said, sitting up.

"I'm going away for a while, to work on stuff for my tour, and just to give
me and Justin some breathing space," she said, rushing quickly through the
words. "We're not breaking up or anything, just, you know, taking a little
time, and I was kind of hoping maybe you could keep an eye on Justin for
me."

"Keep an eye on him?" I asked. "I'm not going to spy on him, Brit, if
that's what you're asking. What goes on between you two is your business."

Except for when my boyfriend and I give your boyfriend a tag-team blowjob.
Oooops, bad thought.

"I don't mean like that," she said quickly. "Just, you know, be his friend.
Justin keeps to himself a lot, and he doesn't really have a lot of friends
outside of all this, or even inside.  He and Josh aren't as close as they
were, and he's got Wade, but Wade isn't here right now. I think he honestly
likes you, because you're a real person, and you like us for who we are. If
he needs you, do you think maybe you could be there for him?"

I wondered again if she'd be so quick to trust me with her boyfriend if
she'd known what I did with him the last time she sent him to our door, but
I pushed the thought away again. Justin and I had talked about that, as had
Josh and I, and it wouldn't be happening again. It was just a one time,
heat of the moment thing, and had brought about more trouble than it was
worth.

"Sure, I can do that," I answered. "You really didn't have to ask."

"I know," she said, standing. "Now give me a hug before I leave."

"Sure," I said, hugging her as she squeezed me surprisingly tightly. "It's
been interesting."

"It's not always like this," she giggled, stepping away.

"Hey, you movin' in on my girl?" Justin asked, walking back into the
courtyard.

"Slim chance," I said, laughing.

"No, silly," Britney said, hugging him. Justin's blue eyes sparkled at me
over her shoulder. "Just saying goodbye."

"I'm not silly," he said, squeezing her. "You're silly."

"No, you're silly," she said happily, as he led her off to the car.

I stared after them, wondering what Justin was really thinking. Justin
really did love Britney, and she loved him back, but why didn't he love her
enough to be honest with her? And why couldn't she see that so much of his
behavior with her was an act, as he'd admitted to me? Justin wasn't half so
foolish as he pretended. Was he afraid that people would treat him
differently if he let the mask slip for a while? Or was he hiding something
else under there?

And why was I suddenly so suspicious? Didn't Josh and I have enough
problems to work through without me inventing more?

I turned to go back up the stairs when I heard Justin calling me.

"Jack, wait!" he yelled, jogging in from the archway, tanned arms flexing,
hair glinting golden in the sun. "Hey."

"Hi, Justin," I said. He didn't look especially broken up about Brit
leaving. "Everything ok?"

He glanced toward the parking area, and then back toward me.

"Yeah, it's fine," he said, shrugging, pulling his sleeveless shirt tightly
across his chest.  "We worked everything out, more or less, and she has
tour stuff to work on.  Costumes and dance moves and stuff. How are you
guys?"

"Josh isn't feeling too good this morning," I said, shrugging as well. "We
talked a lot, but he's still kind of upset, and he's got a hangover, and
he's kind of sore from the cars, too.  He's not out of bed yet."

"The doctor said he's ok, though, right?" Justin asked, concern stamped
across his face.

"Oh, yeah, that's fine," I sighed, shaking my head. "I think it's just the
rest of this stuff."

Justin looked away, and I did as well.

"Is he awake?" Justin asked. "Like, do you think, maybe I could talk to
him?"

"What are you going to say to him?" I asked, suddenly suspicious. I tried
to suppress it, but Josh was already upset enough. Josh had already told me
he wasn't in love with Justin any more, and Justin had explained to me that
he wasn't interested in Josh, so why was I acting like this? "I just don't
want him any more upset right now, Justin."

"I understand," Justin said, taking my arm and leading me toward the
staircase. "I just thought maybe I should explain to him, you know, like I
did with you yesterday. It might make him feel better, at least about where
he and I stand."

"I think that's a good idea," I said carefully. "If he's up for it."

Justin followed me up the stairs, and I quietly opened the apartment door.

"Jack?" Josh called from the bedroom. I walked over quickly, motioning at
Justin to stay back by the door.

"I'm right here," I said, kneeling by the bed again. He looked a little
less pale, and the dark circles under his eyes had faded some. "How are you
feeling?"

"A little better," he said, squeezing my hand. "Could you get me some more
water? Or some juice?"

"Sure, Josh," I said, taking the glass. "Josh, Justin is here. Do you want
talk to him?"

Josh's eyes went wide.

"Is he mad?" Josh asked, grinding the bones in my hand together.

"No, Josh, no," I said, smoothing his hair back again. "He's worried about
you, and he's worried that you're mad at him. I think you should talk to
him."

"Did you?" Josh asked.

"Yeah, when he came to get me at the airport yesterday," I said. "When he
stopped me from leaving you. I think you should hear what he has to say."

"Are you mad at him?" Josh asked, his eyes boring plaintively into mine.

"No, Josh, I'm not," I said. "Justin is your friend, Josh. I think you
should hear him out."

"OK," he said.

I waved Justin in as I went to the kitchen for some orange juice, and when
I came back Justin had settled into the chair across from the bed. We
really needed to put that thing back in the dining room.

"Josh, I'm going to go get that cream for your arms, ok?" I said. "Then you
guys can have some privacy."

"Sure," Josh said, staring out at me from the covers. He smiled weakly, but
hey, it was an effort.

"Thanks, Jack," Justin said.

"No problem," I said. "Do either of you know of a drugstore nearby?"

"There's one up the street, by the diner," Justin said, handing me his car
keys. "Take my car."

"Are you sure?" I asked, thoughts of totaling the Mercedes in the traffic
here flashing through my head.

"What does it matter if we add another wrecked car to the fleet outside?"
Justin asked, laughing.

"I'll be back soon," I said to Josh.

"I love you," Josh said, squeezing my hand.

"I love you, too," I answered.

I was only gone for about twenty, maybe thirty minutes. After I found the
drug store, it took me forever to find somewhere to park, as I was afraid
to put Justin's car near any other car on the road or in the parking lot. I
couldn't afford to replace a hubcap, much less anything else on it. I
grabbed the ointment, a bottle of Tylenol, some stuff for Josh's stomach,
and a couple newspapers, just to give us something to distract ourselves
with.

When I got back to the apartment, Josh and Justin were still talking, but
everything seemed to be all right. They were both laughing softly, and Josh
was sitting up in the bed, while Justin was still in the chair. The sheet
had fallen away to Josh's waist, and I thought again about how beautiful he
was as my eyes followed the curving lines of his smooth torso.

"Things appear to be going well here," I said brightly, setting the bag
down on the dining room table.

They both smiled.

"Yeah," Justin said.

"We're good," Josh said. "And I think I'm going to get in the shower now."

"Oh, good," I said, smiling as well. "I'll start some lunch."

"I'm gonna head out, then," Justin said, taking his car keys from me.

"Do you want to stay for lunch?" I asked, as Josh walked slowly to the
bathroom. I could tell from the way he was moving that his body was stiff.

"No, that's ok," Justin said. "Thanks for letting me come up."

"No problem," I said, as Justin gave me a quick hug.

"Just remember that he loves you, Jack," Justin whispered, quickly letting
go of me.

"OK," I said, perplexed.

While Josh was in the shower, I made some sandwiches, and put on some water
to boil for a quick pasta salad. When he got out, he sauntered across the
room in his towel, and I handed him the cream for his arms, which he took
into the bedroom with him.  When he finished dressing, I was just draining
the pasta, and I quickly tossed it with the dressing.

"Do you wanna put that in the fridge for a couple minutes?" Josh asked
nervously from behind me. "I have to tell you something."

"Sure," I said, putting the bowl in the refrigerator.

I wasn't really sure of what else to say. The look on his face was tortured
as he took my hands and led me over to the couch. We sat, and he looked at
me, and his eyes filled up with tears before he even started speaking.

"Jack, I'm so, so sorry," he said. "I never meant to hurt you, and I'm
sorry. I love you so much."

"Josh, please tell me what's wrong," I said, squeezing his hands. "We
already apologized for this. Please just tell me what's bothering you, so
we can get past it."

He looked up at me, tears gushing down his cheeks. His eyes were wide pools
of sorrow.

"Last night, yesterday, when I was out," he began, squeezing my hands even
tighter.  "While I was out, while I was drinking, I fucked everything up,
Jack, and I'm sorry."

"Josh," I said, confused. "You didn't fuck anything up. Everything is ok."

"No, it's not," he said, taking a deep breath. "Last night I was with
someone else."

***

Well, the boys are back. So are the cliffhangers.