Date: Sun, 18 Nov 2001 22:14:47 -0500
From: Writer Boy <writerboy69@hotmail.com>
Subject: jc's hitchhiker - part 20

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've
enjoyed hearing from all of you, especially those of you like Natalie,
Mike, Jeremy, Neil, Sara, Josh, Eric, Dane, Domita, Ray, and Brad, who have
written almost continuously to offer support, questions, commentary,
feedback, and just to chat. Even if you've only written once, it has still
bolstered me greatly to hear from you, and it's because of all of you that
I'm still writing this.

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

***

I pulled my hands out of Josh's, feeling his go limp as he began to sob.
Standing, I walked away from the couch. He tugged at my pant leg, grabbing
blindly at me, and I jerked away from him.

"Jack!" he cried, an anguished bark. "Please don't walk away from me! I'm
sorry, I'm sorry, I love you, I'm sorry."

Josh's voice trailed off as he slumped into the couch, pressing his face
into the back, his body shaking as he cried. I stopped halfway to the
bedroom. What was I going to do?  Leave again? If I walked away this time,
there wouldn't be anyone to pull me back. I'd be walking away from the
first man I'd allowed to love me in years, and it would destroy us
both. Love was worth fighting for.

I turned back, and walked back to the couch, sitting next to Josh. I put a
hand on his shoulder, and then gathered him against me, feeling his wet
tears through the shirt on my chest.

"It's ok, Josh, it'll be ok," I soothed, holding him. I didn't want to know
what had happened, didn't need to know, but he needed to let it out. "Tell
me what happened, Josh, please, just let it out."

He looked up at me, still crying, but not with those great, body wrenching
sobs any longer. He gripped my hand tightly in both of his as I used my
other one to stroke his forehead and the side of his face.

"You don't really want to hear it, do you?" he asked.

"Well, no, not really," I admitted. "I don't want to hear, but I need to
hear it, as much as you need to let it out. We have to be honest with each
other, Josh."

He sniffled, collecting himself. Keeping my hands locked in his, he began
to speak, his voice cracking.

"When you ran up the stairs yesterday, I got in my car, and I just drove,"
he began. "I wasn't watching where I was going, or how fast I was going. I
was upset, and I was just driving, and thinking about how I'd hurt you, and
thrown you away. I was thinking about how I'm a bad person, and how I don't
deserve to have anyone love me, because I just hurt them."

"That's not true, Josh," I said, pulling him closer to me. "That's not the
truth at all."

"But it was," he said. "I threw you away like garbage, like you didn't mean
anything to me, and I realized that I was trash. All I wanted was to forget
everything, and then I saw this bar. I think it was in the valley."

No wonder we hadn't been able to find him. Chris told me that nobody ever,
ever went to the valley.

"It was little, and dark, and there were men there, a lot of men," he said.
"It had a triangle on the front, so I knew what kind of bar it was, and I
went in, because I didn't care anymore. I didn't want anyone to love me, I
just wanted to let someone use me."

"Oh, Josh," I said, rocking slowly back and forth as I held on to him. The
thought of him in this terrible place, some dark bar, in the state he had
been in, was killing me, every word pounding into me like a nail, stabbing
at me like a pack of crows with razor sharp beaks.

"I went in, and I sat at the bar, and I just started drinking," he
continued, his voice fading into an alarmingly toneless whisper. "I drank,
and drank, and people bought me drinks, and I just kept taking them. There
was this music playing, and I got tired of drinking, and I went to
dance. There were all these guys on the dance floor, old guys and young
guys, and they started dancing with me, and they started touching me. They
put their hands on me, all over me, and I let them, and some of them kissed
me, and their mouths were dirty, and I let them do that, too."

"Josh, it wasn't your fault," I said, trying to push the images away. "You
were upset, and you were drinking. You didn't know what you were
doing. It's not your fault."

"But I liked it!" he screamed, and I froze as he continued to scream it all
out, until his voice cracked again, and he collapsed against me. "I liked
it! They had their dirty hands all over me and I liked it! And then I
ran. I ran and got in the car, and drove back here, and I remember coming
through the gate, and then I remember looking out the window and seeing
you."

"And I'm still here, Josh," I said, swallowing my own tears. "I'm still
here."

"But they had their hands on me, and I liked it," he whimpered into my
chest. "I'm so ashamed."

"Josh, no," I said, grabbing the sides of his head. I pulled his face up,
level with mine, and looked into his eyes. "Josh, you have nothing to be
ashamed of, not now, and not ever. None of it was your fault."

"How can you even look at me?" he asked, trying to turn his head away. I
kept it locked in my hands, not letting him break the contact.

"Because I love you, Joshua," I said. "I don't care what you did yesterday,
or what I did.  None of it matters. We're here now, and I love you."

I let go of his face, and he collapsed against me again. I leaned back into
the couch and let him cry himself out against me. While he did, nestled
against me, I thought about what he'd just told me, and tried to decide how
I should feel. I was a little jealous, and a little hurt, but mostly I was
concerned, because he seemed so upset about it. Really all he'd done was go
dancing, and dance with some guys, and let them kiss him.  While it didn't
leave me wildly ecstatic to hear it, it wasn't really that bad as cheating
went, and he wasn't really in his right mind when it happened. He was so
upset now that I was sure it wouldn't happen again, but I needed to make
him understand that I wasn't as hurt as he thought I'd be. I had to help
him realize that I understood why he did it, and that I didn't want him to
beat himself up over it.

Josh leaned off of me and tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it aside,
and then pressed back against me, pressing his head against my chest and
wrapping his arms around me, pulling him closer. My hands slid up his
torso, feeling the muscles jump, feeling them shift beneath his warm,
smooth skin. I felt his bare shoulders, rounded knots of tanned muscle,
bunch beneath my hands as he pulled me even closer to him, and I ran my
fingers up and down the curve of his spine, feeling his shoulder blades
moving like wings beneath the silken skin of his back. Running them down, I
felt the small of his back begin to curve outward again as my hands moved
toward his waist, and the hard muscled curves of his ass, pressing out the
fabric of his jeans.

Josh's hands slid up my chest to cup my face and turn it toward his, and I
felt his mouth on mine. The little strip of his beard tickled over my chin
as his wet lips pressed against mine, their smooth texture mirroring my
own, his tongue dipping across both ever so quickly, almost as if it hadn't
been there at all. My hands were still on his ass, pulling his pelvis
against mine as his invading tongue penetrated my mouth, and I felt his
hard cock grinding against my own, pressing into me through our pants.

"Touch me, Jack," he whispered, pulling his mouth off of mine with a small
sucking noise. I caught his bottom lip between my teeth and tugged gently
before letting it go.  "Put your hands on me. Make me forget."

"Are you sure, Josh?" I asked. Two minutes ago he was in tears, and now he
was in heat.

"Love me, Jack," he whispered, his eyes locked on mine. I stared into the
sapphire pools, thinking of the sky, and the sea, and the way the color
could conceal the depth in both. I stared deeply into Josh as he stared
into me. "Love me."

I did more than love him. Running my hands all over him, sliding them
across his smooth curves, feeling the muscles jump and shift, and the
short, soft hairs on his body slide under my palms, I worshipped him. I
showed him with the brush of a thumb over a nipple, or the caress of a hand
over the side of his face, the slide of my fingers through his hair, just
how much I loved him. With every soft touch, every whisper of my skin
against his, I showed Josh everything in my heart, every feeling kept
behind the doors in my soul. I poured myself into him, and he drank it like
a desert nomad at an oasis, pressing against me, throwing his head back and
surrendering to everything.  He was warm and pliant in my hands, lolling
against me like a rag doll.

Groaning, eyes closed, Josh shifted, turning in my arms so that he was
straddling me on the couch, his firmly muscled thighs stretching tight the
denim legs of his jeans as they slid down on either side of mine. My hands
cupped his ass for a moment as he ground his hard cock against mine,
pressing against me as he writhed atop me, his hands on my shoulders, eyes
closed, head thrown back. It was like he was dancing to music that only he
could hear, a sexual rhythm counter pointed with his sighs of pleasure.  My
hands slid up his back again and began kneading the spot where his traps
met his shoulders, working at the base of his neck as he ground against
me. For a second all I could do was watch him as he rode me on the couch,
his eyes closed, face peaceful, his head thrown back in total
abandonment. His tanned, muscled chest was a study in sepia, his skin
graham cracker and sand, the curving rise of his pecs capped with chocolate
brown nipples.

Still massaging his shoulders, I leaned forward as I pulled him toward me,
pressing my lips to the hollow of his throat. My mouth slid over, feeling
the tendons and cords of his neck, and I felt his pulse throb beneath my
kissing, parted lips, and I nipped lightly with my teeth, just barely
scraping them over his smooth, fresh skin. I felt his neck vibrate beneath
my mouth as he groaned in pleasure, and his hands slid off of my shoulders
to catch in my hair as he continued his slow gyration astride me. I kissed
and sucked at his neck, moving from one side to the other, passing over his
adam's apple, swiping my tongue down the line of his jaw, tracing it up
toward his ear. My head dropped down, tracing his collar bones, moving up
to where his neck met his shoulders, responding to his sighs and whimpers
as he continued to thrust his hard cock against mine.  My hands grabbed at
his shoulders, bending him backward as my chin and lips slid down the
sloping curve of his pecs, until my mouth fastened onto his nipple.

Pressing my lips into a firm circle over it, I sucked hard as I swiped my
tongue over the tip. Drawing back from it, I inhaled, pulling air over the
wet skin as Josh stiffened and sighed in surprised bliss.

"Bite it," he whispered, pulling my head against him, pressing my face to
his firm chest.

I felt his heart beating beneath my lips as he writhed against me, and then
I fastened my mouth, vampiric, over his nipple again, my teeth grabbing the
swollen tip and pulling. He winced, but tugged my head closer, and ground
his pelvis into mine even faster. As my head drifted across his chest to
the other nipple, my teeth scraping over his pectorals, my hands drifted
down to his legs again, feeling them stretching, flexing against his pants,
and I grabbed them as I stood, quickly. Josh wrapped his arms around my
neck, hooked his legs around my waist, and pressed his mouth into mine as I
carried him into the bedroom.

I dropped Josh onto the bed and stood, looking down at him for a second as
his half- lidded, glassy eyes stared back at me. There's something
extremely sexy about seeing a well-muscled man in nothing but a pair of
blue jeans, seeing the way the well-worn fabric clings to him just enough
to hint at what's underneath but not give an outright show of it, noting
the contrast between the tone and texture of his skin and the roughly
casual fabric.  Jeans on the right guy just radiate sexuality, and Josh was
definitely one of those guys.

As I kicked off my shoes, and tugged at my socks, Josh leaned up into a
kneeling position on the bed, and one of his hands snaked down to cup the
crotch of his pants.  He ground against his own hand, maintaining the
gyrating pulse of thrusting movement he'd had on the couch, and as I tugged
my shirt off he popped the top button on his jeans, slid the zipper down,
and tugged the fabric aside. Jamming his hand into the opening as I threw
my shirt aside and began removing my own pants, he brought his throbbing
cock out, jerking it furiously. I pulled my pants down and kicked them
aside, and stepped toward the bed. Josh's hips jerked toward me as he
fisted his dripping cock, his hand sliding easily over it with a wet,
slapping sound.

"Take it, Jack," he hissed through his gritted teeth.

Josh was leaning back on one hand, all of his muscles knitted and
protruding, his chest flexing and his abs crunching into bas relief with
every breath, as his hand continued to slide over his prick. Dropping onto
the bed, I pushed his hand aside as I swallowed him, tasting the salty
traces of his precum and sweat, feeling the firm spongy head of his cock
slide past my lips and over my tongue. He leaned even further back on that
one arm, so that his cock was stabbing almost straight upward as his hips
thrust urgently against my mouth, and with his free hand he grabbed my hair
and began to jerk my head up and down on his cock as he thrust it into my
face. It was a little more take charge and forceful than he usually was,
but I just relaxed my jaw and went with the flow, washing my tongue around
his head and shaft as he pulled out of me, and just holding on as he pushed
all the way back in. He jerked my head back and forth as vigorously as he
rolled his hips upward, pushing into me, and I could see the veins in both
his arms standing out as he gripped my hair tightly.

He didn't last very long, having already been pretty worked up before we
even got to the bedroom, and I heard him yelp as his hand pushed my head
all the way down, almost chocking me. I could think of worse ways to
go. Still gripping my hair, he pulled me off of his cock, and I let it
slide out of my mouth. It jerked again before my face, seeming almost to
flex, the head swelling slightly, and a fat drop of cum spilled from the
slit. I flicked out my tongue, licking it off before it could go to waste,
and swallowed. Josh, staring down at me as he still leaned back on that one
hand, pulled me up by my hair, sinking back into the bed as he did so,
until my face was level with his.  His tongue pushed into my mouth, seeking
himself, as my hard cock ground and throbbed against his steely wet
prick. The feeling of his jeans scraping on my bare legs was extremely
erotic, and I groaned into his mouth as I lay atop him, pressing him down
into the mattress.

"Jack," Josh whispered, pulling my head back so that he could stare into my
eyes again.  "I want you to fuck me."

"Are you sure?" I asked. He'd never done that before, with me or anyone
else. "Josh, don't do it because you're sorry."

"It's not that," he whispered. "I love you, and I want you to take me. Make
me yours, Jack."

He kissed whatever parts of me he could reach as I leaned over him to get
into the nightstand. I leaned back, and he slid up the bed, so that his
head was in the pillows. His eyes were enormous as I grabbed his jeans and
tugged them down with his boxer briefs.  He lay back beneath me, his
exquisite body sprawled on the thin blanket, breathing fast and looking a
little apprehensive, his eyes enormous blue pools, widening even more as I
brought my lubed fingers down to his hole. He drew in a sharp breath as
they brushed over his virginity, and I thought maybe he wasn't as ready as
he thought. I began to pull my hand away, but he grabbed my arm and held it
there.

"Do it, Jack," he urged. "Do it."

I was as gentle as I could be with my fingers, going very slowly, watching
him tense and trying to soothe him through it. I tried to distract him with
kisses, telling him I loved him as his sighs were punctuated by the
occasional whimper. When I thought he was ready, I kissed him again.

"How do you want to do this?" I asked, trying to make sure he was
comfortable.

"I want to see you," he answered, staring up at me.

"OK, Josh," I said, lifting his legs. "I'll go slow, but if you're
uncomfortable, please tell me."

"I love you," he said, kissing me. "Only you."

I pressed against him, urging him to relax, keeping the pressure firm, but
not forceful. All of his muscles, which I spent so many hours admiring,
were tensed, and I ran my hands over him soothingly. My chest was pressed
against his, and I felt his heart fluttering beneath mine as his body
arched up against me. He let out a high pitched sigh, almost a yelp, as I
finally pushed inside, and I froze, kissing him, as his hands gripped at my
ass, pulling me closer. His face was tightly scrunched, and his teeth were
gritted, but he was trying very hard to relax, and I showered compliments
on him, telling him he was beautiful, and that I loved him.

We lay like that for a minute, my cock just inside of him, motionless, as I
waited for him to relax and guide me. His hands, gripping my ass as tightly
as the handles on a roller coaster, pulled me forward ever so slightly, and
I slid in a little more as he groaned again.

"Are you ok?" I breathed into his ear.

"Hurts a little," he admitted. "But it's ok. Just go slow."

"Sure, baby, sure," I whispered. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said, pulling me forward. "Love me, Jack. Love me."

His sighs continued as I began to move very slowly in him, gently thrusting
back and forth, not all the way, but working toward it as he stretched and
relaxed. I continued to watch his face, not wanting to hurt him, but
wanting this so badly. He wanted to prove that he loved me, and while I
didn't think it was necessary, I didn't want to reject him when he was
giving me so much of himself. He'd had me like this, but this was his first
time, and I understood how special that could be, especially for someone
like Josh, someone who was a romantic at heart, and really did believe in
true love and soul mates.  I wanted this to be beautiful and special for
him, and I wanted him to feel like he was in control, so I let his hands
guide me with their gentle pressure, and I watched his face for a guide.

I gripped his chest, tracing lazy circles around his nipples with my
thumbs, brushing the tips now and again. Leaning down, I showered him with
kisses, painting them wetly over his face, his chin, his neck. I continued
raining compliments on him as well, and I watched as his face smoothed, and
lost some of its strained tightness as I continued to thrust slowly against
him. Almost imperceptibly at first he began to move back against me,
rotating his hips in time to mine, tugging at me with his hands as he let
his fear and nervousness drain away. He began to kiss me back as he relaxed
more, opening wider, and I watched his face twist in surprised pleasure as
I finally hit his prostate, his eyes popping open.

"Oh," he breathed softly, head tilted back toward the ceiling.

I smiled and hit it again, changing my angle a little to make sure I was
jabbing it with my cock on every thrust as his hips jerked beneath me. I
felt his calves and feet brushing over my legs, and each time I thrust in I
watched his entire body smooth out as he arched backward into the bed, his
muscles flowing over each other as he threw his head back, moaning and
sighing. He chanted my name over and over, like a mantra, and we fell into
an easy, yet urgent, rhythm. I picked up speed as he arched himself up
beneath me to meet every thrust, and he raked his hands up and down my back
as I speared forward into him. He gripped and pulled at me, urging me
forward, pulling me down into him.

His cock was hard again beneath me, grinding against my abs as I worked
against him, sliding easily between our sweaty, slick torsos. With one hand
I held his shoulder in a vice grip, using it to push and pull, and I let
the other drift down, wrapping my fingers around him. I began to quickly
jerk him in time to my thrusts, and he writhed and bucked wildly beneath
me. Screaming my name, he bit my shoulder, the fingers of one hand raking
up my back as the other pulled my ass against him, and he threw his head
back, his entire body tightening as come shot out of his cock, splattering
us both.

He yelped again, his entire body convulsing, and I came harder than I ever
had in my life, pushing all the way forward, spearing him beneath me like a
butterfly on a pin. I groaned his name, crushing myself against him as my
own hips jerked involuntarily against his.  Collapsing on top of him, I
tried to catch my breath, panting hard, even as he panted hard beneath me,
our heartbeats mingling inside our sweating, heaving chests. I kissed him,
and then licked the side of his face, relishing the salty taste of his
sweat. I started to pull out of him, but he grabbed me, and locked his legs
around mine.

"No," he panted into my ear. "I want you to stay in me."

"I love you, Josh," I sighed into his ear. "Was it good?"

"The best," he said, nibbling at the side of my neck. "You're the best."

We drifted off to sleep for a little while, without even realizing it, me
completely spent atop his smooth, muscled body, him clenching beneath me to
keep me in place.  We woke up an hour or so later when the phone rang. I
rolled off of Josh, finally, as he reached for it, and I grabbed some
tissues to tidy myself up as he answered.

"It's Chris," he said. "He says him and Joey bought some steaks, and he
wants to know if we want to eat dinner with them."

"Sure," I answered. "If you want to."

"Sure, we'd love to," Josh told Chris. "Yeah, I know you only asked us so
you could use our grill. Yeah, call them, too. We'll be down in, um?"

"An hour or so," I supplied, looking us both over. We needed to hit the
shower before we went anywhere.

"Yeah, an hour," Josh agreed into the phone. "OK. Bye."

He hung up the phone, and I kissed him again.

"What was that for?" he asked, holding the side of my face.

"For saying it was our grill," I answered.

"It is," Josh replied, smiling. "It's ours, because we bought it
together. I love you, Jack."

"I love you, too," I said. "Let's hit the shower."

Josh and I showered together, as we were in the habit of doing. We didn't
talk, not really needing to, and we washed each other, as we usually did. I
did his hair, he did my back, and I carefully washed the burns on his
arms. When we finished, we dried each other off as well, and went to the
bedroom to dress together. We were both being very affectionate, which
slowed us down, because we kept stopping to hug, or just run a hand over
each other.

"How do you feel?" I asked. "Are you, you know, ok?"

"A little sore," he admitted. "But it's ok. I love you."

"I love you, too, Josh," I said, sitting next to him on the bed as we
pulled our shoes on.  "Are you ok with the other stuff?"

"Are you?" he asked, turning toward me. His face was a mix of hope and
fear.

"Of course I am," I said. "I told you, it doesn't matter to me, Josh. Don't
think about it any more, ok?"

"OK," he said, kissing me on the forehead. "Maybe we should take that pasta
salad down."

"Good idea," I said, going to the refrigerator for it.

We left the apartment, holding hands as we walked downstairs where Chris
and Joey had already started the grill. They'd already started the beer,
too, with several bottles resting in that metal tub Chris had brought to
the last barbecue. Hopefully this one would go better. As we walked over,
Joey handed me a beer.

"Oh, no, I don't like beer," I demurred.

"You do now!" Joey exclaimed, smacking me on the back. "Can't have steak
without beer!"

"OK, sure," I said, taking it. His enthusiasm was infectious.

"Jack," Joey began, draping an arm over my shoulders and leading me toward
the grill.  "Have you ever grilled a steak before?"

"No, mostly just chicken," I said, shrugging.

"We got a lot to teach you," Joey said.

Joey took me under his wing at the grill, offering pointers and telling me
about Labor Day barbecues with his family and learning the fine points of
grilling from his grandfather. I dutifully tried to follow his advice,
nodding when I thought it was appropriate, listening carefully to
discussions on color and texture of the meat, and knowing when to turn it
or when to poke it with a fork. It was very much like one of those
television shows where the father stands out by the barbecue pit with the
son, splitting beers with him, and having one of those male bonding
moments. It was also completely outside of my own experience. My family
wasn't the cookout type, and I didn't have a lot of straight male friends.

"This salad looks good," Chris said, peeking under the foil.

"It's been sitting all afternoon," Josh said, sipping his water. He passed
on the beer, explaining that his stomach still wasn't settled from last
night. "We made it for lunch, but never ate it."

"Why not?" Joey asked.

Josh and I both stammered and turned red, looking at each other and looking
away. Joey laughed loudly and smacked me on the back, almost pitching me
face forward into the grill.

"Jesus, you two," Chris said, shaking his head but smiling. "It's like a
honeymoon or something."

Josh and I smiled at each other, and I blew him a kiss from the grill. Joey
finally pronounced the steaks ready, and I blithely agreed, so we all
settled in at the table, Josh and Chris setting the newspaper aside as Joey
and I plopped a steak onto everyone's plate.

"No word from Justin?" I asked.

"Or Lance," Chris added, shaking his head.

"Speaking of, did you see Lance in the paper?" Joey asked, pointing.

"No," I said, taking it from Chris.

Joey directed me to the entertainment section, where I found a short
article mentioning Lance and Britney's trip to the emergency room. The
article was accurate, or at least accurate to our story, detailing Lance's
tennis accident and the fact that Britney drove him. It mentioned that
neither of them could be reached for comment, and that Lance's management
had not yet issued a statement on whether this would affect the recording
of the next album.

"I hadn't thought of that," I said. "Will it?"

"Probably not," Chris said. "His nose isn't broken. They just packed it to
stop the bleeding."

"That's not the only place where we made the paper," Joey said. "Turn to
the gossip column."

I did as I was told, and followed the trail of steak juice his finger left
down the page.  When I read what he was pointing at, a chill washed over
me.

"Jack?" Josh asked, leaning forward. "Jack, are you ok?"

"This is about you, Josh," I said slowly. "Someone knows about you."

***

Maybe they should just stop having barbecues. None of them end well. More
to come soon!