Date: Thu, 09 May 2002 18:40:28 -0400
From: Writer Boy <writerboy69@hotmail.com>
Subject: jc's hitchhiker - part 96

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

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

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

Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy
constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy
flames, and will not tolerate them.

Back to the story in progress.

***Jack***

Our meeting with Lisann went well. She had a lot of stuff to wrap up with
us, but most of the basic issues had been taken care of. Bills had been
paid, the top of the cake had been frozen and given to Chris to take home
until we got back, and we had picked out the pictures that we wanted sent
to the various magazines, fulfilling all our contracts. We would pick out
our own pictures when we got back, but we needed to get the media taken
care of quickly so that they would leave us alone. The guests were enjoying
another day at the resort if they chose, and those that did not were being
driven to the airport for their waiting planes today. Those that did stay
would be flown out tomorrow, or they would drive themselves home, and
Lisann had done a fabulous job of making sure everyone stayed active and
had a good time.

"We just have one more thing to wrap up, and then the limousine is waiting
to take you two to the airport," Lisann said, consulting her notes. As
always, she was flawlessly poised, impeccably dressed, consulting a
clipboard resting on her lap and checking things off smoothly with one of
her ever present gold pencils. "Gifts and thank you notes."

"There weren't supposed to be any gifts," I sighed. "Not to sound
ungrateful or anything, but you'd think people could read."

"They just want to show us they're happy for us," Josh said, laughing. "You
have to look at the bright side, Jack. Look at all the stuff we got."

"I know, Josh," I sighed, looking at the four long tables piled high with
presents. "And I appreciate the little gifts from people, the special stuff
that I know is in there, but really, we don't need more stuff. We already
have most of my things in storage, and just opening this and filling out
the thank you cards is going to be a full time job."

Our guests had been instructed not to bring gifts. If they felt like they
needed to do something, we had listed a set of charities that we would
prefer donations be made to, like Justin's foundation, some things Josh
supported, and a few gay and lesbian organizations that I thought could use
the extra money. Most of the guests had done as we requested, but still
people seemed to feel like they couldn't show up at a wedding without a
present, so we were left with a virtual mountain of gifts.

"I had a suggestion to make about this, actually," Lisann began. We both
waited for her to continue, but every once in a while she liked to take a
pause and make sure she had our full attention. "I know that you will be
out of town for two weeks, and I've been told that when you return, Joshua
will be going back to work almost immediately. Jack, what are your plans,
if you don't mind my asking?"

"Actually, when we get back I'm going to start looking for work, as well,"
I said, feeling Josh throw an arm around my shoulders again. When we were
sitting side by side, his arm just naturally seemed to drift up there, and
I liked it too much to ever shrug it off.  "I've been given a clean bill of
health, more or less, and I'll go stir crazy soon if I don't have something
to do. Why?"

"Well, you're both going to be very busy, and yet there's all of this to
take care of," Lisann said, gesturing at the tables. "I know neither one of
you is the type to just let this stay undone, but it might be too large a
task for the two of you to handle alone. I think perhaps that the two of
you should hire an assistant to help with it."

"This can't possibly be my real life," I said, half joking, holding my face
in my hands.  "We have so many presents we have to hire someone to help us
open them?"

Josh snickered and rubbed his hand in lazy circles around my back.

"Jack, you know what she means," he said calmly. "Stop being so
melodramatic. I've actually been thinking that we might need an assistant
for a couple weeks now. We're getting a lot of mail, addressed to both of
us, and Johnny doesn't really like to have the studio staff open things
that are addressed to you, since you're not under our contract.  Maybe we
could get a part time secretary, or something, to help us with stuff like
that.  And, you know, if you're going to be sending out resumes or
whatever, you might need someone to help you stay on top of that."

"And it's not to help open the gifts," Lisann continued. "It's to help you
with the thank you notes. You don't want people to think you don't
appreciate their generosity, do you?"

"No, I guess," I said, shrugging. "It's just, you know, do we really need
our own personal secretary?"

"Not a secretary," Lisann said. "An assistant. And it was just an idea."

"I think it's a good one," Josh said. "And like I said, I've been thinking
about it for a while. There's all those people calling you for appearances,
and all our fan mail, and now the wedding stuff. It doesn't have to be
permanent. It's just that we're going to start rehearsals and stuff, and I
won't be around as much as I have been. I don't want you to get buried
under this stuff."

"OK, I guess," I said, seeing the wisdom in what Josh was saying. We were
barely keeping up with our mail as it was, and we didn't answer most of
it. We were still getting a lot of letters from people of all ages who
supported Josh's decision to go public, and some of the stories they shared
were so moving that we felt like we had to drop them a little note
back. Adding thank you notes for six hundred guests, and trying to find a
job at the same time, might possibly be a little more than I could
handle. Maybe.  "How do we go about hiring such a person?"

"We can do it when we get back," Josh said, kissing me on the cheek.
"Lisann, why don't we have all the presents delivered to my house, and they
can store them all in the garage?  Justin has a key, and can let your staff
in and supervise the unloading with you."

"Perfect," Lisann said, checking it off on her notepad. I guess that it was
the last thing on there, because she smiled at us and stood. "Unless you
two have any more questions, I think I should send you out to your
driver. Your bags are already loaded, and it's time you got on with your
honeymoon."

Josh crossed over and held out his arms for a hug. Lisann melted into them,
blushing.

"Lisann, thank you so much," Josh said, stepping back so I could offer her
a hug as well.  "We wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you."

"Thanks for putting up with whining, and tantrums, and hysterical
outbursts," I added, feeling oddly teary suddenly. Who gets choked up
saying goodbye to their wedding planner?

"Thank you both for giving me the chance to be a part of this," she said,
stepping back and smoothing her suit in one move. "And don't worry, I'll be
in touch as soon as you get back."

Lisann waved us away as we climbed into the limousine, resting against each
other in the plush backseat as we drove to the airport. All of our bags
were in the trunk, and Josh yawned as he rested his head on my shoulder. I
laughed, stroking his hair with my hand, and felt his breath fluttering out
over my neck as his eyes slid closed.

"Tired?" I asked.

"A little," he answered, not opening his eyes as he nuzzled a little more
tightly against me. "Mostly just happy."

"Me, too," I sighed.

The ride to the airport was short, and I was surprised to see someone else
get out of the front of the limousine, along with the driver, as Josh
handed me a hat and pulled on his hat and sunglasses. The little divider
had been up the entire time, so I hadn't been able to see in, and now I was
a little surprised to see a tall, unknown stranger with a carryon bag
getting out with us. Josh held my hand, not seeming surprised, as the
driver flagged down a skycap with a cart for our eight bags. I scooped out
my carryon, and Josh grabbed his, but he still hadn't said anything about
the other guy. I looked him over, taking in the broad shoulders and firm
chest, and the way his eyes were darting around. He looked casual, more so
than either of us, who were on the flashy club kid side of incognito.

"Josh?" I asked finally, and he turned toward me, squeezing my hand. "Who's
our friend?"

"Oh, Jack, I totally forgot!" Josh said, smacking himself on the forehead.
He turned to our mystery guest, motioning him to step closer. "Jack, this
is Andrew. He's going to be our guard for the honeymoon."

"Hi," Andrew said, holding out his hand. I knew we had a bodyguard, since
we never went anywhere without one anymore, but Josh hadn't mentioned it to
me, and I was a little taken aback. "Pleased to meet you."

He seemed nice, but was also kind of intimidating. He had long straight
blonde hair, kind of sandy, pulled behind his head into a ponytail. He was
wearing a light jacket over his plain black t-shirt, and I wondered if we
needed to let him know that nothing screamed "bodyguard" like all black,
especially in warm weather. Under his shirt I could tell that he was built,
and I knew that was supposed to make me feel safe, but when he shook my
hand I saw a side holster and a handgun beneath his jacket.

"Oh my God!" I blurted, knowing my eyes were wide. "Are you allowed to
bring that on the plane?"

"I have a special permit," he said, shrugging. His voice was hard to read,
and for a second I got the feeling that he didn't like me, but then he
smiled thinly. Maybe it was the best he could do. "Besides, I'm kind of
hoping not to have to use it, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess," I said, squeezing Josh's hand. "Josh, can I, um, see you
for a minute?  Over there?"

"Sure," Josh said, his face uncertain. I tugged him over by a potted plant,
noticing that Andrew was watching us. "I'm sorry I forgot to tell you,
Jack."

"Josh, I'm not mad," I said quickly, leaning forward. He bent forward a
little, too, so that our foreheads were touching, and I rested my hands on
his shoulders as he put his on my chest. "I just, well, why not Hank? I
mean, who the hell is this guy? I know the trip can't be just us, but I
don't know this guy, Josh. I know he's supposed to make us feel safe, but I
don't know him. I wish you had said something. I know it's because he's a
stranger, but I just don't feel right, Josh."

Josh's eyes widened, blue and warm with their little flecks of green mixed
in.

"Oh, God, baby," Josh said, his voice suddenly filled with concern.
Sometimes I was nervous around strangers, and unknown people in my space,
because of what had happened to me. "I'm sorry. Are you ok? Do you feel
ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, I think," I said, feeling a little unsettled, but not
dangerously so. "Don't worry about that."

"I should have thought about that, though," Josh said, his arms sliding
around to hug me tightly. "I should have thought about how this might
affect you, but I was all caught up with the wedding, and Justin, and
Lance, and I just didn't think of it. I'm sorry, Jack, I'm so sorry. I
didn't mean to just spring him on you."

"Stop, Josh, please," I said, holding onto him, feeling his strong heart
beating against me.  "I don't want to start our trip like this, with
apologies and fighting, especially over this.  This isn't worth getting
upset over. I'm sure he's a nice guy and all, and I'll get to know him, and
everything will be ok. I mean, he's not Hank or Dom, but I'm sure he'll
grow on me."

"Hank has a part on a soap, and Dom wanted to stay in LA," Josh said.
"Andrew's from the same agency, though. If you really don't like him, I can
get someone else. I just don't want us going to all of these different
places without someone accompanying us."

"No, Josh, it's not that I don't like him," I said quickly. "I just don't
know him, but I guess we have the whole trip to work on that. God only
knows what he thinks of us already, standing over by a column to whisper to
each other. What time is our flight, anyway?"

"Give me your hand," Josh said suddenly, holding his out. Confused, I gave
him my hand, and he deftly unhooked my watch and pocketed it. "There."

"Hey!" I said, reaching for his pocket. He caught my hand in his, and then
my other hand as I tried with that one. "Josh!"

"No watch for the rest of vacation, Jack," Josh said, pecking me quickly on
the lips. "I don't want you worrying about anything, or checking the time,
or anything else. This whole trip is up to me, and all you need to do is
relax, and enjoy the ride.  OK?"

"That's my watch, Josh," I protested, still feeling it on my wrist. I
needed it. I was always the one who kept us on a schedule, or watched the
clock. "You bought it for me."

"Josh giveth, and Josh taketh away," he said, smiling. "I told you, I'm not
giving it back."

"I could always just check the time on my phone," I said, smiling back at
him as he still held my hands. He brought one to his mouth, kissing the
palm, and then the other, chuckling.

"Don't make me take that, too," he said. Josh let go of my hands and took
my face in his long, soft fingers, tilting it up toward his. "I mean
it. After the wedding and everything, you are to completely relax on this
trip, and that's an order."

To reinforce his directive, Josh pressed his lips down to mine, their soft
texture seeming to caress my lips as they brushed over me. He pressed his
tongue into my mouth, dancing around my teeth and over my own tongue. I
sighed, and he began to sigh against me as well, his fingers dancing along
my jawline. My tongue pushed past his and into his own mouth, and he began
to suck lightly at it, twirling his tongue around it.  When we finally
pulled apart, with a wet, sucking sound, there was a little spit on my lip,
and Josh leaned down and licked it off. Right when he did we heard a camera
go off.

"Shit," I whispered.

"Busted," Josh added.

Andrew appeared behind us as we turned and waved at the photographer. It
looked to be a family of tourists, unless the paparazzi were having "Bring
your family to work day", and they seemed rather harmless.

"We should get you guys inside," Andrew said, putting a hand on each of our
shoulders. I shrugged it off, but he didn't seem to notice. "Before someone
else recognizes you."

"Andrew, they're harmless," I said. "It's just some family that saw us and
wanted to take our picture. I'm sure they don't mean any trouble."

"It's that kind of trusting thinking that got you in trouble the last time,
isn't it?" Andrew asked, staring down at me. I stepped back, against Josh,
my mouth dropping open.

"Andrew, calm down, please," Josh said, his arms around my shoulders.
"Jack's right; it's just a family taking pictures. Andrew, you're right,
too. If someone recognized us, someone else probably will soon, too, so we
should probably get inside."

I stepped away and turned to stare at him as Andrew crossed his arms.
Obviously neither one of us was happy with the compromise that both of us
were right, and I couldn't believe Josh was going to let him speak so
harshly to me.

"Josh!" I said sharply, feeling pissy suddenly.

"Look, guys," Josh began, looking from me to Andrew and back again. "It's
obvious we all need a little time to get used to each other. Jack, Andrew's
just trying to keep an eye on us for possible threats. We've gotten a lot
of hate mail about the wedding, from people who, you know, don't like gay
people, and I wanted someone who could handle any kind of stuff we might
run into."

Andrew crossed his arms smugly, the butt of his gun peeking out again
beneath his jacket. Josh was right about the mail, even though he tried to
hide some of the worst ones from me. As much as we got a lot of letters and
mail from people who said they supported us, we also got a lot of mail from
people telling us what we were doing was wrong and unnatural. They might
have been nothing, but you never knew what people might do, and I wasn't in
a big hurry to get kidnapped again, or worse.

"Andrew, we want to be safe, but not smothered," Josh continued, turning to
him. "That's why you're flying back in coach. We need protection, but we
also need space.  And for future reference, we don't talk about what
happened to Jack, not like that, and not with strangers."

"I'm sorry," Andrew said to me, holding out his hand. "I'm just, you know,
trying to do my job."

"It's ok," I said, taking his hand. His grip was so firm I thought he might
be deliberately trying to snap the bones in my fingers, but I kept smiling
as if I was completely comfortable. He was a big guy, and maybe he couldn't
help having a viselike handshake.

"Clearly we all need a little time to get used to each other," Josh said,
smiling as we shook hands. I was still trying to decide how I felt about
Andrew, but Josh seemed ok with him, and I trusted his judgment of
character. "Why don't we just chalk this up as, you know, getting off on
the wrong foot a little, and go in and get ready to catch our plane."

"OK," I said, taking his hand.

"Sure," Andrew said, shrugging.

The three of us walked over to the cart piled high with our luggage, and
the skycap followed us inside with it. Josh and I were just kind of
meandering along, and Andrew was scanning the airport lobby, his eyes
swinging side to side. He seemed good at his job, although I kept comparing
him in my head to Hank and Dom. I didn't know Dom as well as I did Hank,
but I considered both of them friends, and would rather have had either of
them on the trip with us than some complete stranger. Hank hadn't even
mentioned the part on the soap when I saw him at the wedding yesterday, and
I made a mental note to send him a card.

"So, Andrew, where are you from?" I asked, my arm linked through Josh's as
Josh picked through his bag for our tickets.

"I've been living in Los Angeles for about six years," he answered, making
eye contact with me for a second before going back to his continuous
scanning of the area around us.

"How about before you moved to LA?" I asked, remembering how everyone in
Los Angeles joked that no one was actually from the city.

"Seattle," he answered. He definitely wasn't chatty, but maybe he was just
shy. After all, how could he not want to talk to me? Everyone loved talking
to me. Maybe he just wasn't comfortable yet.

"What brought you to LA?" I asked, watching as he pulled a leather packet
out of his jacket. I assumed it was his pistol paperwork, which we would
need to get through customs.

"I was in a band," he answered, smiling finally. "You know. Grunge rock,
garage band, the whole thing. We were sure we were gonna be the next big
thing, and I just got into the bodyguard thing to, you know, pay the
bills."

"What happened with the band?" Josh asked, half listening. I knew if they
were any good that Josh would help them get a break. He'd probably try to
get them signed on with Lance's company, or invite them to go on the next
tour, like he had his friend Tony.

"We broke up about a month after we got there," Andrew said, shrugging
again. "It's just as well, since, you know, grunge rock was on the way out
by then anyway. But I already had this job, and I had a lease on a good
apartment, so I kind of stuck around."

"Do you still play?" I asked. Somewhere in our luggage Josh had a small
electronic keyboard packed, but I didn't know if all musicians carried
something around with them.

"Not with a group or anything," he answered. "I don't always have time now,
anyway, but I might get back into it someday. As it is, I mainly just play
when I'm alone, trying to relax."

"I know what that's like," Josh said, smiling. "What's your instrument?"

"Bass guitar," he answered. "Come on. Let's go get these bags checked in."

We checked all of our bags in, and then headed through the security
checkpoints. As we had expected, it was a little bit of a chore getting
Andrew through, but all of his paperwork was in order, and eventually they
let him pass. The process attracted a lot of attention, though, and as soon
as we were past the metal detectors Andrew sent Josh and I straight to the
first class lounge, away from all of the people now staring.  His manner
was a little brusque, but I was starting to think that might just be the
way he was. He seemed pretty friendly to Josh and I, but glared
suspiciously at every person that walked near us as we approached the
lounge. As we stepped in, Andrew pointed out the bench where he'd be
waiting when our flight was called.

"See, he's not so bad," Josh said, resting sleepily against me as we sat in
the lounge.

After the hustle and the stress of the past couple of days I wasn't
surprised that all he wanted to do was sleep. I read quietly as Josh leaned
against me, asleep within minutes, despite the fact that he'd had plenty of
sleep the night before. The guys called him Mr.  Sleepy on tour, because it
was practically all he did when they had a free moment, and sometimes he
lapsed back into it when we were together. It was kind of a reflex gesture
with him, almost. If we weren't actively doing something, Josh nodded, half
awake, and I'd just gotten used to it. His head rested on my shoulder, his
soft hair brushing against my cheek. One of his hands was draped across my
chest, resting on my shoulder, and he nuzzled against me, murmuring.

"I love you, Josh," I whispered, oblivious to the glances from the other
first class passengers. The lounge was big enough that they could move away
from us and sit elsewhere if they couldn't deal.

"Love you, too," he slurred sleepily.

When they called our flight I roused him and packed up my book, and we
rejoined Andrew, following him to our gate.

"I'll see you guys when we land," he said, smiling. "Remember, don't wander
off to get your bags or go to the bathroom or anything until I'm off the
plane, ok?"

"OK," I said, as Josh and I both nodded. I still felt a little smothered,
but if the two of them felt it was necessary, then going along with it
seemed like the least I could do, especially if it meant I wouldn't be
spending any more time locked in anyone's basement, or worse. After we got
settled in on the plane, our fingers linked through the takeoff, Josh
pulled the little blanket down and arranged it over himself. "You're not
actually planning to sleep the entire way, are you?"

"Did you have something else in mind?" Josh asked, laying his head on my
shoulder. "I have the chess set in my bag if you want to do that."

"No, that wasn't quite what I was thinking," I sighed, smiling. I leaned
over and kissed him on the cheek.

"What were you thinking?" Josh asked, nuzzling under my chin. He nipped at
my neck, worrying his mouth over that giant hickey he'd left last night. I
felt a little shiver run through me.

"Well," I began, sliding my hand under his blanket. I rested it on his
thigh. "I was thinking about what you said this morning."

"I said a lot of stuff this morning," he chuckled, still leaving a little
wet trail on my neck.  I slid my hand up his thigh, drifting closer to his
basket.

"Yeah, but only part of it was about the mile high club," I whispered,
dropping my hand over his crotch. I could feel his cock through the thin
fabric of his pants, and immediately began to massage it. Josh stiffened
against me, his head jerking up in surprise.

"Jack, what are you, unh, what are you doing?" Josh asked, his brilliant
blue eyes wide. I kept squeezing him, feeling his cock throb and press
itself against my hand.

"What does it feel like?" I asked, unzipping his fly. I slid my fingers
inside, and then maneuvered them through the flap in his boxer briefs. I
wrapped my fingers around the hard, hot tube of his shaft and he gasped
against me, glancing down at the blanket. "I'm giving you a handjob,
silly."

"Oh, God, Jack," he whispered as I rolled my palm over the head of his
cock.  "Stop.  We'll get caught."

"Only if you keep making so much noise," I said, moving my hand a little
faster now. His cock was hard, like stone, but covered in soft, smooth
skin, and I felt it throbbing in time to his heartbeat. His breathing was
picking up, better whether it was from being turned on or from being
nervous I couldn't tell.

"No, I'm serious," he whispered, although I noticed he wasn't really doing
a lot to stop me.

"Me too," I said, smiling. I leaned in, close to his ear, which I began to
lick. "I love you, Josh. I love feeling how hard you are, and touching your
cock. I love holding it in my hands, and feeling it throb, and thinking
about you putting it inside me."

Josh was a sucker for dirty talk, I knew, although his idea of it was a
little tame.

"Jack," he whined, sweat breaking out on his forehead. My hand was moving
faster now, sliding up and down him. "Jack, oh, God."

"I love running my hands up and down your cock, and your body," I
whispered, chewing at his ear now. His breath against my neck was coming
hard and fast, urgent little pants.  "I love touching you, and feeling your
skin, and feeling all those muscles.  I love putting my hands on you, and
my mouth. Do you want me to put my mouth on it, Josh?"

"Unh, Jack," he whined, his hips moving a little now. His hands were
gripping his armrests, his knuckles white.

"You're so fucking hot, Josh, and I'm so hard right now," I whispered,
chewing on his earlobe now. He was trying to keep quiet, stifling his moans
and whines, burying his mouth against my neck. "I'll ask again, Josh. Do
you want me to put my mouth on it? Do you want me to lean down, right now,
and stick my head under the blanket? Do you want me to slide my tongue down
it, and suck you off, Josh? Do you want me to swallow your hot cum, right
here, right now?"

Josh looked up at me, his mouth hanging open, sweat standing on his
forehead, and I leaned forward, catching his bottom lip between my teeth.

"Jack!" he breathed, and then his body tensed in the seat. I felt hot
wetness flood over my fingers as he gasped. I pulled my hand carefully out
of his pants and licked my fingers clean, smiling at him.

"Can I get you gentlemen anything?" the flight attendant asked, leaning
over suddenly.  "Are you ok, sir?"

"He's a bad flyer," I answered, letting Josh catch his breath as he stared
at her in wide eyed panic. The blanket was still in place in his
lap. "Could we have some water?"

"Sure," she answered, leaning over us. She flicked the air thing open above
Josh. "Let's just get some air on you, and you'll be fine."

"Thanks," I said for Josh, watching him nod. "I don't know why I didn't
think of that."

"No problem," she said, handing me two cups. "Just buzz if you need
anything, ok?"

"Thanks," Josh panted finally. He turned to me.

"I love you," I sighed, sipping my water.

"When we land, we're going straight to the hotel," Josh whispered, kissing
the sensitive spot right behind my ear. "And we're not leaving until the
morning."

I settled back against him, sighing contentedly. That was just fine with
me.

***

To be continued.