Date: Sun, 01 Dec 2002 19:08:56 -0500
From: Writer Boy <writerboy69@hotmail.com>
Subject: rebound - part 12

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.

That said, we now continue.

***

I shook my head, not sure of how I could help him. I brushed a hand over
his hair, and he sniffled, but leaned into it. He hugged me again, pulling
his head up under my chin, folding himself into me, and I wrapped my arms
tightly around him, wanting to comfort him.

"Justin, they can't kidnap you," I said finally. "It's not like they can
just load you onto a plane and make you fly back."

"It's not like that," he said, shaking his head. His hair smelled good,
like my shampoo, but also like Justin. "It's not kidnapping. They'll just,
they'll show up, and they'll talk about my obligations. They'll talk about
how they can't do it without me, and how hard we've all worked, and all
this other stuff. They'll just keep hammering on it until I give in, and
they're right. We do have obligations. We have contracts and bookings and
photo shoots and everything else. I just, I didn't want it to be over so
fast. I didn't want to go until I was ready."

"If you're not ready, then you're not going," I said simply, shaking my
head. "You just have to stand up for yourself a little. I mean, look what
you did already.  You decided that you were tired of the way JC was
treating you, and you broke up with him, right?"

"Yeah," Justin said uncertainly, looking up at me. I tucked a finger under
his chin, tapping my knuckle on the bottom of his jaw, and he smiled.

"So you do the same with the rest of your friends, too," I said, shrugging.
I made it sound so easy, when in truth I really didn't know all the much
about his life, or the people in it.  After all, I'd only heard it all
secondhand, and Justin wasn't exactly a nonbiased reporter.  "If they try
to make you do something you don't want to do, you don't have to do it.
Friendship isn't about guilt, Justin. It's about people respecting you
enough to understand what you want, too."

"I guess," Justin said thoughtfully, looking out the window again. "I'm
sorry."

"For what?" I asked, standing.

"For being so, I don't know, so moody," he said, shrugging. I patted him on
the shoulder.

"Some people just are," I said, smiling. "I'm going to go eat dinner now,
ok? You coming?"

"Yeah," he said, unfolding his legs from beneath him. "Yeah, I'll grab us
some plates."

"I'll get the bag," I said, walking back over.

I snatched the stereo remote off of the side table and flicked it on, and
then picked up the food bag off of the floor by the door where I'd left
it. I adjusted the lights, turning some of them off since there was no need
to have the whole loft lit up, while Justin set out plates and
silverware. I walked over to the table and started to unload the cartons
from the bag, wondering if Justin was overly hungry, or just indecisive,
because there were almost a dozen containers in here. Justin set cups out,
and then opened the refrigerator.

"What do you want to drink?" he asked. "I made some juice this morning."

"That's fine," I answered, thinking again, as I had last night, that the
two of us were very domestic for people who didn't really know each other
that well. On second thought, he was used to living with four other guys,
so maybe he was just really well housebroken.  Wait, did he live with them?
I wished that I knew a little bit more about them, other than their names
and a few of their songs. "Justin, do you guys all live together?"

"No," he answered, shaking his head. "We used to, and then Lance and Joey
moved out, and it was just me and Chris and JC together, and then Chris got
his own place, too. Now it's just me and JC, but, you know, I don't really
know if that's going to work anymore, either."

I looked up, and his face was turned down. I guessed that he was thinking
about his home, and maybe his bed. I tried to imagine which of our
situations was worse, and couldn't do it. I lost Matt, but I could take
comfort in knowing that he didn't want to leave me. Justin thought it was
best to leave JC, but he still had to see him every day and be reminded of
what had gone on between them.

"Justin?" I asked, seeing that he was shaking.

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. I hugged him quickly, feeling his
shoulders trembling again. "I just, I don't know why this is hitting me so
much today.  I think, you know, I think it's because of you and me, because
I'm so happy I met you, and that we're so close. It makes me feel kind of
guilty, for being happy. Is that stupid?"

He sighed, waiting, and I felt his breath rushing across my neck. His arms
held me against him, and he was warm and firm against me.

"It's not stupid, Justin," I said finally. "I've been having the same
problem. All day I've been thinking about you, and what we did, and what it
means. I, maybe I'm stuck in the past or something, but I still love Matt,
and what I did with you feels a little like cheating."

Justin pulled back, staring into my eyes. His eyes were so blue, the same
bright shade all the way through, and they should have been flat, being
that monochromatic, but there was depth there, too. His face was caring,
concerned, and tender.

"Does it hurt?" he asked quietly. "Does what we did hurt you? Does it hurt
you to feel that way?"

"Yeah, it does," I answered honestly. "But it also feels ok. It doesn't
feel like a bad thing, Justin, not all the time, and that confuses the hell
out of me."

"Then let's not think about it, either one of us," Justin said, as if you
could just shut it off.  "Let's just have dinner, ok?"

"OK," I said, nodding. We sat down and started opening the containers, and
I caught Justin smiling at me with one of his little toothless half
smirks. "What?"

"Do you really think I'm moody?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Don't push it," I said, smiling. "And pass the sweet and sour sauce."

We had a really nice dinner, and afterward we didn't really want to do
anything. I felt like reading, but I always felt like reading. Justin
wanted to watch television, but neither of us were the type to just sit
around on the couch and stare at the screen.  We were both too easily
bored, and Justin had way too much energy. I remembered that there were
some board games put away in the closet by the stairs, and we started to
pick through them.

"Risk?" Justin asked, blowing dust off of the top of the box theatrically.

"It hasn't been in there that long," I said, shaking my head. "Besides, we
can't play that with just two people. I'll win too fast."

"Yeah, right," Justin said, smirking. "Checkers are too boring, and no way
are we sitting through chess. Monopoly? Clue?"

"I don't think we can play either of those with only two people," I sighed.

"Why do you have so many games for people, if you never have any people
over?" Justin asked, frowning. He glanced at his watch. "Get out the
Risk. I have an idea."

"What are you doing?" I asked, pulling the game out as he ran over to the
phone. "Who are you calling?"

"Downstairs," he answered, turning away, shielding the phone with his body
before I could pull it out of his hands to hang it up. "Meg? Hi, it's
Justin. Listen, Chris and I were going to play some board games, you know,
sit around, hang out, and you guys close in ten minutes. You want to come
up? Yeah, call them, too. OK. Bye!"

I was stunned that he would just invite people up into my space like that.
Granted, it was the kids, but I would have appreciated being asked. Maybe I
didn't want to hang out with everybody else. They got to hang out with
Justin all day, and this was my time to spend with him. Wait, was I
jealous? No, no, it couldn't be that. I just didn't want people in my
space, that was all. I'd never be jealous of sharing my friend with other
friends, because that would mean, well, that would mean that Justin was a
little more than just my friend.  He hung up the phone and turned back to
me, his face sliding into a mask of uncertainty when he saw the look on
mine.

"You're not mad, are you?" he asked. "Please don't be mad."

I shook my head, pushing away that jealous spike and smiling at him.

"No, no, of course not," I said. "I just, you know, wasn't really planning
a party tonight."

"We should get some food together!" Justin said, clapping his hands. "And
we'll put something on the stereo! Light some of the candles, too, and I'll
play with the lights."

"Are you always this impulsive?" I asked, shaking my head, grinning as I
looked in the cabinets for bowls.

I had some crackers, and some nachos and salsa, which would probably be
enough.  While I was pouring everything into bowls I heard Justin flicking
a lighter, and the loft began to glow warmly. I put the bowls on the
counter, with bread plates, figuring we didn't need things right on the
table where we could knock them over. Meg tended to get a little excitable
during games, and I had a feeling Justin would be the same way, so I didn't
want stuff around that could spill. I paused, wondering if thinking about
stuff like that made me old, and listened to Justin putting new CD's in the
stereo.  When I looked up, he was standing in front of it dancing, all by
himself, and I giggled.

"What?" he asked, turning, still moving. He had quite the sway to him, a
way of moving his hips without really seeming to move them that dragged
your eyes right to them. I shook my head, smiling broadly, not wanting to
spoil his fun, and Justin held out a hand to me. "Come here. Don't look at
me like that. Come here."

I walked over slowly, watching him dance as he held his hands out to me.
There were still some lights on, but the candles added a soft flicker to
his features, burnishing his tanned skin, bringing an extra sparkle to his
eyes. I couldn't explain it, because Justin wasn't drop dead gorgeous, but
somehow, with the right expression on his face, he became irresistible, and
I felt drawn to him almost against my will. I stood in front of him, our
eyes locked together, and he took my hands.

"Dance with me," he said softly, his voice husky. For someone who sang so
high, he had quite a range.

"Justin," I began, not sure what to say as he began to tug my arms back and
forth, adding a little extra shimmy to his movements. You don't usually
think of guys as graceful, but he was.

"Come on," he said, still moving my arms a little in time to the beat. He
was still smiling, his teeth even and perfect, his lips a little
wet. "Loosen up a little.  Dance with me."

"OK," I said, letting him lead me across the living room. The song was
good, some old Janet Jackson, and I danced with him, a little tentative at
first, feeling kind of awkward and clunky in comparison to his serpentine
moves.

"See? You got moves," Justin said, laughing. Suddenly he dropped his hands
down to my hips, pulling me a little closer. My face was right across from
his, and my mouth was completely dry as the room seemed to be getting
extremely small. We weren't touching, yet, except for the light grip of his
hands that I seemed to feel with my whole body, but we were close, and I
thought we might be about to get closer.

"Justin," I began, wanting to cut this off. Far from the firm tone I
intended, my voice was somehow barely a half whisper, and Justin brought a
finger up to press it over my lips.

"Shhh," he said, leaning in even closer. "Dance with me."

We were both still dancing, swaying to the music, leaning toward each
other, both of our faces moving closer as his hand dropped back down to my
hips, and then there was a knock on the door, and Meg and Julie pushed it
open, both skidding to a stop as Justin and I jerked guiltily apart. Both
of them were smirking, Julie hiding hers behind a hand, and I felt my own
blush rising as I watched Justin turn red.

"Bad time?" Meg asked.

"No, no, of course not," I said, almost bolting for the kitchen.

"Just getting ready for you guys," Justin said quickly, walking over to the
table. "I'll set up the game."

Julie followed Justin, the two of them opening the box and starting to lay
the pieces out, as Meg smirked at me over by the refrigerator.

"Pete's on his way over, and should be here in twenty minutes or so," she
said, taking glasses out of the cabinet. "Michelle had night class, so she
can't come over. If we'd known you and Justin were having a party, she
could have skipped."

"This was a little spontaneous," I said, pulling a couple bottles of soda
out of the fridge.

"I kind of figured it was Justin's idea," Meg said. "He's a smart boy, that
one. And cute.  And I hear he's a hell of a dancer."

"Meg," I began, meaning to cut her off, even if it was all true.

"I'm just saying," she said, hurrying back toward the others. "Can I be
red?"

We held off on actually starting the game until Pete arrived. He brought a
six pack, figuring that one beer each wouldn't keep anyone from getting
home, especially since they'd all cabbed it or taken the train. I was
having a pretty good time, just hanging out and talking while we played,
and didn't even say anything when Justin took a beer, watching me carefully
to see if I would. I half expected him to ask permission, and realized that
he was, silently, when I found his bright blue eyes fixed on mine. I tilted
my head, shrugging my shoulders a little, and he grinned, twisting his
bottle open. When I looked up again, he caught my eyes a second time, and
carefully rolled his lips over the mouth of his bottle. I almost choked,
but no one else caught it.

For those who haven't played it before, Risk is a board game in which
everyone gets armies, and countries, and the point of the game is to take
over the world.  Like Monopoly, it's one of those games that goes for
hours, even if you're having a lot of fun and keeping it lively. Julie lost
early, conquered by Pete. I managed to get a block of countries and keep
them together, and was slowly working outward from them when everybody
started yawning.

"Justin, roll," Meg said, smacking him on the arm as she stifled a yawn of
her own. Justin blinked, tearing his eyes off of me. He'd been staring at
me for about a minute, but I was staring at my cards and pretending not to
notice. "You're about to lose Kamuchatka."

"I don't even know where that is," Justin sighed, shaking his head.

"I don't think it still exists," I said, patting him on the shoulder.

"You guys could just all give up and admit I won," Pete said, looking at
the huge spread of countries he controlled. Justin rolled and lost, and we
all groaned as Pete moved more armies relentlessly forward.

"I have class in the morning," Julie sighed from the couch, where she was
watching with her head propped up on one arm. "Couldn't we just, like, call
a UN summit and surrender to him?"

"Fine," I sighed, pushing my chair back. "I surrender."

"Quitters," Meg said, watching as Justin pushed his chair back as
well. Pete smirked at her. "Don't expect me to give in."

"Meg, even if we split their countries, I'll still win," he said. "Go out
gracefully."

"I'm counting this as a tie," she said, standing. She looked at me as I
began to carry plates to the sink. "Do you guys need help cleaning up?"

"No, no," I said, shaking my head as Justin began to carefully return all
the different colored army pieces to their plastic boxes. "It's late. You
guys get home, and Justin and I'll get this."

"OK," Julie said, pulling herself up off of the couch as Pete handed her
jacket to her.

The three of them walked toward the door, watching Justin box up the game
as I cleared off the table, and they all had the same smirk on. I'd kill to
be on the ride home with them. We waved them off as they told us goodnight,
and Justin walked around blowing out candles and straightening the living
room as I did the last of the dishes. When I was done, I went into the
bathroom and got ready for bed, figuring that Justin would be folding out
the couch by now, and was surprised to see him waiting for me outside the
door with his toothbrush. I assumed he was running a little behind, and
didn't give it a thought as I stripped down to my boxers and climbed into
bed. The bedroom was pretty dark with all the curtains pulled, but I could
still tell that Justin was flicking off all the lights in the loft, and I
jumped a little when he opened the bedroom door and closed it behind him.

"Justin?" I whispered, feeling the bed move as he pulled the sheets down
and slid into the other side.

"The couch bed is uncomfortable," he whispered, sliding over. I felt his
bare chest against my back as he slid an arm around me and nuzzled his face
against the back of my neck for a second, making a low hum of contentment.

"Justin," I began again, not really moving. His legs brushed against mine,
long and firm, and I could feel his breath on my back. I felt the need,
again, to protest, even as I thought about how good he felt against me, and
how he'd looked earlier, dancing with me. "I'm not your boyfriend."

"I know," he whispered, snuggling in closer. He wasn't hard, but I could
feel the warm lump of his cock against my ass, covered by my boxers and his
briefs. "I don't have a boyfriend."

"I don't want to hurt you, Justin," I whispered.

"Then don't," he answered, kissing the back of my neck.

I didn't move, and didn't say anything, and he did it again, following his
lips with his tongue. I lay against him, feeling his hand cradling me, as
he licked across the nape of my neck in short little strokes, just feather
touching my skin with his tongue.  His body moved against me while he did
this, not a lot, but mine seemed hypersensitive to it, feeling every shift
of muscle under his velvet skin, and my body began to move back against him
as he continued to rain kisses across my neck and the tops of my shoulders.
His hands were both on my now, trailing up and down my torso, brushing and
caressing, but neither of us spoke. I gasped as I felt him working at my
neck now, and I pressed back, my spine arching, as he began to nibble at my
ear.

I sighed, letting his hands move me, and then I was on my back and Justin
was over me, holding my head in his hands, bringing his mouth down to
mine. The two of us were making little noises now, urgent sighs and sounds,
as our tongues fought together. Like the last time we'd done this, Justin
was kissing me so hard I thought my mouth would bruise, and I wondered if
he threw himself head on into everything in his life like this.  My hands
roamed up and down his back as he kissed me, pulling off of my mouth to
drop his head down to my neck again, using his face to turn mine from side
to side so that he could attack both sides of my neck at once. My hands
slid down his spine, feeling him grind himself against me. He was
definitely hard now, his cock a throbbing spike in his briefs, thrusting
against my own, and I felt a sticky kiss on my stomach as his head popped
out from under the waistband.

Justin squealed into my mouth as I grabbed his ass, squeezing him hard
through his briefs, and began to thrust against me even harder. He tossed
his head back, his short hair catching the bare fraction of light peeking
in through the windows from outside, and I began to suck and bite at his
neck as I kneaded his ass, feeling it harden and flex as he moved atop
me. I slid my hands off of it for a second, long enough to press my fingers
under the waistband of his briefs and put my hands back on the real thing,
cupping him with my palms, feeling the hot muscle under his smooth
skin. Justin's hips jerked against me when he felt me touch him, and my
fingers slid into his crack, the tip of one brushing over his hole as he
gasped, a sharp, high pitched whine. Like the last time, every spot where I
touched him seemed to bring a different noise, a different urgent little
sound, and I wanted to hear them all.

Justin brought his head down to mine again, and I felt his firm, silky lips
slide over my cheek before they fastened onto my mouth. With all the
sighing and noises we were breathing into each other, drowning in each
other, and somehow that turned me on even more. Justin pulled my hands away
from him, dipping his tongue in to run it over my teeth, exploring the
geography of my mouth, and I ran my hands up and down his arms, feeling
them shift as he peeled off his briefs. Justin grabbed his cock with one
hand, looking down for a second as he held my head with the other, keeping
my mouth firmly attached to his, and then he slid forward, maneuvering his
throbbing cock through the flap in my boxers. I felt it push slickly over
mine, rubbing against it, our shafts sliding over each other, and I grabbed
Justin's ass again, pulling him against me.

Justin was grunting now, little high pitched whimpers, as he writhed
against me, our cocks trapped together in my boxers, both of them slick
with precum. Sweat beaded up on Justin's shoulders, smoothing the passage
of my hands, and his kisses grew more and more urgent, his tongue invading
my mouth as his hips drove forward. I felt myself tightening up, getting
close, and knew that I wanted us to go together, or at least as close to it
as possible. I managed to sneak a finger between our mouths, and Justin
sucked at it greedily, trying to swallow it. Pulling my hand away, I
plunged my spit slickened finger into his ass, and he let out a sharp
squeal as I pushed it forward toward his prostate.  Finding his button, I
pressed hard, sucking his tongue into my mouth at the same time, and Justin
locked up above me. His chest flexed, his legs bucked, and his hips jerked
hard against me as I felt sticky wetness fill the front of my boxers. He
managed to catch my ear again, biting at the lobe hard, and I felt myself
push over the edge, too.

Justin panted against me, his body a warm heavy weight as he pressed me
down into the mattress.

"God, Justin," I panted, my hands still on his ass.

"Shhh," he whispered, kissing me again.

Justin shifted a little, feeling around the bed for his briefs. When he
found them, he pulled back, his softening cock sliding out the front of my
boxers, and he cleaned himself off with his briefs, shuddering at his own
touch. I figured he was one of those guys who got really sensitive right
after they shot, and watched him as I caught my breath. The bedroom smelled
warm, of sweat and sex, but it was a good smell, and I lifted my hips as he
pulled at my boxers. Still using his briefs, he cleaned me off as best he
could, and then threw both pairs off the edge of the bed. Pulling the sheet
up, he curled an arm around me again, spooning himself against my back, and
his other hand played in my hair, almost petting me.

"Good night," he whispered, his breath a soft sigh on my bare shoulder.

"Night, Justin," I answered, drifting off before I could regret anything.

In the morning I was up first, sliding out of bed as Justin whimpered and
reached for my spot. He was just starting to stir when I got out of the
shower, and I patted his shoulder and pulled the sheet back up, but not
without taking a second to lift it a little and savor the view. Sure he
followed me around like a lost puppy. Sure he lived thousands of miles
away. Sure he was too young, and too impulsive, and everything else. It
didn't change the fact that he was beautiful, and that I could stare at
him, at the tanned expanse of all the skin and muscle, for hours. These
weren't the hours for it, though, because I was needed downstairs. I
managed to make it about five minutes before Michelle, saving myself from
renewed taunting.

"Sorry I couldn't make it last night," she said, flipping on the coffee
pots.

"We missed you," I said, shrugging. "It was a good time."

"It must have been," Michelle said, straightening her counter as I put the
chairs down.  "You're practically glowing. Are you ok?"

"I think I am," I answered. I didn't feel half as guilty about fooling
around with Justin again, and the whole store just seemed kind of sunny and
bright today.  Michelle eyed me speculatively, framing her question, and I
cut her off. "No, I'm not with Justin. We're friends."

"Hey, I didn't ask," she said, holding up her hands. "You guys must be some
friends, though. I'm your friend, and I've never gotten marks on my neck
like that from you."

My hand flew up to my neck and I realized I'd forgotten to wear a
turtleneck again.

"Busted," Michelle sighed happily, turning to the first customer.

Justin completely didn't help when he came down. As soon as he saw me he
blushed and looked away.

"Hi," he said, glancing at me and then back at his hands.

"Good morning," I answered, fighting the urge to giggle. It was hard to get
mad at him when I felt myself doing the same thing he was.

"Good God," Michelle said, putting a coffeecup on the counter in front of
him. "This is better than the Young and the Restless."

"Hey!" Justin said, his head whipping around.

"Shut up, Michelle," I said, stomping up the stairs.

"And they call it, Puppy Love," Michelle sang, passing Justin the
creamer. I thought again about how ridiculously overstaffed the store
was. It could certainly use one less goth princess.

The rest of the day was fairly quiet. Pete came in for the afternoon shift,
but refrained from torturing me with more speculative teasing. Michelle
didn't say another word after the Young and the Restless comment, but I
kept catching her watching Justin and I. For our part, the two of us gave
each other a wide berth. Every time I looked up, though, no matter where I
was in the store, I found Justin's eyes on me, and it made me feel a little
uncomfortable. Every time he did something right he looked toward me,
waiting for a compliment, as if proving to me that he could do it, wanting
me to be proud of him for handling even the simplest of tasks. For all his
good looks and success, I was starting to figure out that Justin also had a
little bit of an esteem problem. Maybe me telling him we couldn't be
together was part of it, feeding it for him. After all, basically I was
saying that he wasn't right for me, wasn't good enough, and he kept trying
to prove it wrong.

I was in the storeroom, looking for a book that Pete swore was here, when
Justin pushed past me, his eyes wide.

"Justin?" I said, catching his sleeve.

"Did you find it yet?" Pete asked, stepping into the doorway. He saw Justin
shaking and stopped, looking back and forth between us. "Guys? What's
wrong?"

"I don't know," I answered, turning back to Justin. Justin's face was
white, his bright blue eyes huge and panicked. I put my hand on his
shoulder. "Justin?"

"What's going on?" Michelle asked, leaning in next to Pete. "Why are we all
in the storeroom?"

"Chris is outside," Justin said weakly. I thought he might start to cry,
and I pulled him against me as Michelle and Pete both looked at me and then
back at Justin.

"Not me, you idiots," I said, holding him. Justin trembled against me, his
heart hammering, and I realized that he was gasping, as if he couldn't
breath. He was about to go into a full scale panic attack. "Chris from his
band."

"I saw him through the window," Justin whispered, his chest hitching. "He
was looking at a paper, and looking at the sign."

The bell over the front door jingled.

***

To be continued.