Page Six Bobby West was half asleep on the plush sofa in the elegant living room overlooking Broadway.  The traffic raced up and down in New York just like it always did, 24/7.  The television was droning in the background, some infomercial–the kind they show at 3AM.  Bobby lay back and had just started to doze when his cell phone rang.  He sat up, disoriented for the moment, listening to the annoying noise. He grabbed the tiny phone and slurred into it, "Yeah?  What's up?" "They're coming." That was it.  Nothing else.  He clicked the phone shut and fully awake now, went to the window to make sure his equipment was ready.  He checked the focus.  Yep, he could see right into the bedroom.  With this lens, he could probably photograph their skin pores.  Film cans were lined up. The entire time he was mumbling to himself.  "Been fucking here before.  How many times?  Shit, lost count on that one.  Maybe the little fuckers *are* virgins." He went to the kitchen, snagged a bottle of water, and plopped into a comfortable chair, watching the apartment across the street. Bobby West had been on the trail of the Pop Prince and Princess for months now.  He had followed them everywhere, paid to get the photographic evidence that they were lying through their teeth when they proclaimed their "innocence".  Months.  Nothing.  Not once and Bobby was damned good at what he did. This was Mr.  Murdoch's new plan.  Rent an apartment where he could spy on Britney's new Manhattan digs.  Let them come to him.  Well, it had been weeks and they had been everywhere *but* here.  Well, Bobby snorted to himself, if Mr.  Deep Pockets wants to pay for this whole set-up and Bobby's fees, a hefty chunk of change, then God bless him. Bobby actually thought Mr.M. was a little nuts, obsessed by the pair for the last year.  Every week there was a new gossip item.  Or a picture.  Or a snarky comment.  Boring.  Two kids.  But if he wanted Bobby to sit around waiting for them to show, then fine. He sat up straight when the light came on in the other apartment.  Dear God, make it tonight, he prayed.  He looked through the viewfinder just as the door to the bedroom opened.  Justin entered and then turned back toward the hall, listening to someone, leaning slightly drunkenly against the doorframe.  Bobby raised his eyes to heaven in thanks. And then through the lens, he watched as Justin was pushed back into the room.  There's the blond.  Holy shit!  And the only sound became the clicking of the camera.                                    ************************************** Justin's normally perfect balance was off.  The alcohol and Lance's shove sent him reeling backwards into the bedroom.  It was a sickening pink nightmare but it had the one item they needed–a king- sized bed.  He was laughing as he started to fall. Then Lance reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling him toward him.  Justin's head was swimming with Lance-- his cologne, his hot outfit, his hair and those fucking eyes.  Justin watched as Lance closed the distance between them.  Their lips met, the taste of alcohol still fresh.  They dueled, tongues snaking out, flicking at one another.  Justin wrapped his arms around Lance and sought the warmth of his mouth.  It opened willingly beneath his assault and Justin dove in, sucking on his tongue, sweeping his own over Lance's perfect teeth. And then Lance twisted in Justin's arms and Justin was against the wall and the battle continued. Lance was grinding his hips into Justin's, their erections rubbing almost painfully, clothes rapidly becoming a real issue.  Lance licked Justin's ear, the softest touch, and Justin moaned.  Lance smiled and forced his hand down between them, gripping Justin's cock and squeezing it hard. Justin gasped.  Lance's low voice whispered, "Baby, this is *mine*,and you are mine.  You belong to me." Another squeeze.  " I'm gonna fuck you senseless tonight. Fuck you so hard, you'll feel it in your throat." When the licking began, Justin moaned again.  The long strokes on the smooth skin of his neck were firing every nerve. Justin was vibrating with want and he could feel his knees tremble.  He wanted to move this show to the bed.  "God, Lance," he forced out through hitched breaths. "Can we go lie down?  Jesus, I've been hard all night.  I need... something...this minute.  Now.  Please?" The last was in his familiar whine. Lance snatched his hand from Justin's crotch and grabbed both wrists, pulling Justin's arms over his head.  He pushed him back, pinning Justin's wrists and hearing a satisfying thud as Justin's head hit the wall.  Justin looked a little dazed as he stared at Lance, seeing a dangerous, predatory look that promised hot sex. "Shut.  Up." Lance ordered and mashed his lips against Justin's, reveling in his power over his gorgeous lover.  Justin wriggled under him, wanting more friction.  The sound of moans filled the air as they went at each other's mouths.  Finally, Justin turned his head and managed to speak, "I can't wait much longer.  I want..." Lance cocked his head and stepped back, pulling Justin roughly toward the bed.  Lance turned the younger man to face him and Justin shuddered.  "Strip.  Justin.  Now." Justin looked at Lance who had his arms folded across his chest, legs spread, waiting.  No argument here, Justin thought, as he pulled the hem of the tee shirt up and over his head.  He wasn't finished before Lance growled, "Too much fucking time." Lance pulled Justin toward him by the belt loops and fumbled with the large silver buckle.  Justin gasped in surprise as Lance's fingers brushed over his crotch.  Justin thrust his hips at Lance, seeking the contact, but it was gone. "Get this shit off," Lance said.  Justin jumped and in seconds, he was naked, his jeans in a messy pool at his ankles. Lance shoved hard and sent Justin flat on his back across the bed.  Justin eased up onto his elbows to get a better look as Lance began to undress.  It was a show and they both knew it. Lance unbuttoned his shirt, drew it out of his waistband and shrugged it off.  The silky material swished as it slipped to the floor.  Justin's cock was quivering.  Lance licked his lips as he held Justin's gaze.  Then he moved in like a hunter.  He placed his hands on the bed and leaned over his boy. His breath was hot on Justin's skin.  He whispered, "Like what you see?" Justin could hear the grin in his voice.  Justin inhaled sharply.  He couldn't speak, so he settled for a silent nod. Lance backed away and laughed– a deep, sexy sound.  "Not yet, baby." With that, he slid his belt off and snapped it on Justin's bare leg.  Justin yelped and Lance threw his head back in amusement.  "C'mon.  You've had worse than that." He could see Justin remembering, his dick throbbing. Justin was startled out of his reverie by the sound of Lance's zipper.  He watched with wide eyes as Lance wiggled his hips, moving the leather down over them.  Justin reached out to touch, to pull the clothing off, only to be pushed back on the bed.  Lance looked evil.  "Did I say you could touch me?" Justin's gaze dropped, the long eyelashes fluttering.  His body shouted embarrassment, the look of a reprimanded schoolboy.  "No," he answered softly.  As Lance stepped out of his pants, Justin looked up at him. "Oh man, my boy is so cock-whipped." Justin blushed. He lay quietly, his erection becoming painful. His hand strayed to his crotch as he stared at Lance, who had one knee on the bed already. Lance was lightning quick, any tipsiness long gone. Justin's wrists were pinned above his head once again and Lance was straddling him, their two dicks creating an unbearable friction. Justin moaned, but it was cut off as Lance started kissing him again, a rough crush of lips. Lance licked around Justin's lips, the sweet taste that was his lover, intoxicating. Then he bit Justin's lip, staring at the tiny drop of blood that appeared. Justin whimpered under the onslaught. Lance moved away, his tongue searching, seeking the sensitive skin on the underside of Justin's arms, the spot Justin loved to have touched.  Then swirling down until his nose was buried in Justin's armpit, he inhaled the musky scent of his man. Justin twitched and moaned softly. Lance smiled and stared down at his lover. His eyes were closed, his eyelashes long sweeps on his cheek and he was breathing in soft little gasps.  Jesus, Lance thought, is there anyone more beautiful than this boy?  "Baby, you are so fucking hot, " he whispered into the side of Justin's neck.  Justin arched, leaving Lance a long, clean line, a pristine canvas.  Justin felt Lance's breath and moaned at the touch of Lance's tongue as he moved down, nibbling and sucking.  Justin offered the other side of his neck, using his body to beg for Lance's tongue.  Lance pushed Justin down into the bed and nuzzled the sensitive skin where his neck and shoulder met before biting down hard enough to leave teeth marks. Wrists still pinned, Justin arched, his dick loving the sensation– the pain and the pleasure mixed in equal parts.  He was breathing hard, like a racer nearing the finish line.  " Lance, I can't....," he began but his words were lost in a grunt as Lance attacked his nipples.  Justin felt the tiny licks on each nipple and sighed into them, but before he could relax, Lance was sucking them erect.  "Mmmmm..." Justin began and it ended in a sound that satisfied Lance, a shocked hiss as Lance took the right nipple delicately between his teeth and bit down, twisting the nub before letting it go. When he moved to the left one, Justin gasped, lifting his hips off the bed and pushing to meet Lance's attack.  "Lance....," Justin groaned. Lance looked down, pleased at the response and released Justin's arms.  In one fluid motion, Justin pulled Lance to him, digging his nails into Lance's back, scraping down until Lance was the one groaning.  Justin could feel the soft skin give beneath his hands and he met Lance's lips, stifling the sounds coming from him.  They took the kisses to a new level, a frenzy of tongues, a mashing together that drew blood once again. Justin whispered, "I can't...much longer, babe." Lance pushed back and rolled off the bed, onto his feet, heading for the bathroom.  "I'll be right back." Justin was startled at first at the abrupt change, but when Lance left, he put his arms behind his head, wondering, What the fuck?  His face was in a familiar pout when Lance came back, grinning at the infantile expression. "What's with the face, Jus?" "Why the hell did you stop?  I was *so* fucking close." Lance shrugged and tossed a condom onto Justin's chest.  Justin stared at it before picking up the offending item and waving it at Lance.  "What the hell?  I'm not fucking anyone else.  We don't need this." His irritation grew when Lance simply shrugged again.  Justin was pissed.  "You trying to tell me something?" "Oh, grow up.  It's just a fucking condom.  And no, I'm not trying to tell you anything." Justin sighed, a hint of a smile, "You can be such a fucking control queen sometimes." "This from the most manipulative bitch on the planet." Lance took a step closer.  This was a familiar dance, a game that turned up the heat on their sex. Justin watched Lance move, a stalker approaching the prey.  Justin slid on the hot pink satin, backing away from Lance, until he was splayed in the middle of the bed, a seductive smile on his lips.  "Yeah, but you like this bitch's ass.  Don't you, pretty boy." "Me?  Pretty boy?  That's rich coming from you.  The original.  The real deal." A deep throaty laugh bubbled up. "You just jealous, baby," Justin laughed, enjoying the exchange. Lance snorted.  He was close enough now for Justin to grab Lance and pull him down.  Justin felt his body being pushed down, felt the kisses again.  The smell of sex already filled the room, mingling with the odors of the club–alcohol and smoke. It was a primal battle now, each attempting to dominate, devouring one another.  They rolled over, first one, then the other --seizing control and forcing the other to moan, to beg for release. Teeth nipped and bit, sounds of pain mixed with sighs of pleasure.  Justin grabbed his lover's hair, yanking at the gelled spikes, on the edge, begging in heated whispers, "Please, I need you now." When Lance brushed over the tip of Justin's cock, wet with pre-cum, Justin let out his breath.  "Yes." It was the sigh of reeds in a marsh and Lance's dick danced to the incredibly sexy sound.  The wrestling continued, the heat turned up degree by degree until Justin couldn't take anymore. "Lance, I am gonna fucking come." "No, you're not.  Turn over, bitch," Lance growled.  Justin obeyed instantly, wiggling his cute little ass in the air, taunting Lance.  Lance smiled and reached for the lube.  In seconds, his slicked fingers were rammed into Justin's ass. "Oh shit," Justin cried.  Lance drew them out and shoved them back in, Justin crying out, louder this time. "Good.  I wanna hear you beg for mercy." Lance wiggled his fingers until he hit the spot. Justin arched, a strangled groan of pleasure, and he started rocking back and forth on Lance's fingers. Justin was moaning, urging his lover on.  Lance leaned down and whispered in Justin's ear, the words more felt than heard, "Don't.  Fucking.  Come." Justin was almost beyond hearing, almost beyond listening.  All he could concentrate on were those fingers, fucking him, pushing him closer to the edge.  Justin  jumped when Lanced smacked his butt sharply.  As he felt the sting of the slap, Lance pulled his fingers out.  Justin whimpered at the loss. Lance rolled the condom on slowly.  He pulled a pillow from the mass on the bed and tossed it to Justin, who positioned himself on it.  His breathing was harsh with desire. "Fuck me.  Take me." Justin didn't care that he was begging. Neither man could hold off any longer.  Lance grabbed Justin's hips roughly with his slick and sweaty hands and pulled him up.  He positioned himself and drove his cock into Justin.  Justin gasped at the pain, knowing it was only temporary.  Lance pulled out and slammed himself harder into Justin, who screamed as Lance's dick filled him.  He pulled out again and hammered his dick into Justin, this time hitting the spot, again and again. Lance leaned over Justin, his hot breath on Justin's neck, his hand twisted in the curls.  He yanked back hard, bringing Justin closer.  His other arm wrapped around Justin's neck and he drew him nearer until the soft skin was right there.  He sucked and licked as Justin whimpered and then he bit, teeth marks clear on his lover's body. "Yes...yes...yes...fuck, " Justin shouted, feeling both pleasure and pain.  Justin rocked back, meeting Lance's thrusts.  He needed.  He wanted.  "Harder," Justin grunted. Lance was lost in the pleasure, Justin clamping down, tightening himself around Lance's cock, driving them both to the brink.  They had started something and they couldn't stop.  Lance pistoned rhythmically, forcing himself in as far and as hard as he could, his balls colliding against Justin's ass as he slammed his cock into Justin.                             Justin was moaning and cursing with every thrust, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck me." Justin was close. He bit his lip so hard that blood flew onto the bedsheets.  Lance had one trick left.  His own harsh breathing was signaling the end.  He reached under Justin's chest and tweaked both nipples at the same time, a hard pinch that connected all the sex organs on the same circuit. It was overload for both of them and they spiraled into a tidal wave of an orgasm.  Riding it along the crest before being dumped exhausted on the shore.  Lance fell onto Justin, the sweat slicking both of them, gluing them together in a post-orgasmic embrace. Their breathing slowed down eventually and the air cooled, the musky scent of sex still heavy.  "Under the covers," Lance mumbled and they managed it, creating a tangle of limbs and sheets.  As they fell asleep, Justin said, "Brit'll be pissed."                                    ************************************ The two bodies were finally still and Bobby stopped clicking.  His breathing was labored, his own cock stiff and begging for attention.  He jerked off, replaying the scene in his head.  Huge dollar signs decorated his dreams .             *********************************** Two days later, Lance woke and stretched, staring down at Justin.  It was amazing how hot that boy looked–even asleep.  He leaned on his elbow, contemplating waking him up so they could have sex again this morning.  He laughed as he flopped backward.  Sex had occupied most of the 48 hours they had been here.  There had been a few breaks for meals, showers and the necessities of life, but the rest of the hours had been pleasurably filled with mind-blowing sex. Justin opened one eye.  There was a gleam in it that Lance recognized.  He snorted, "Oh no, baby boy, we got to get going this morning." Even though he had just been having the same thought, he needed to get them out of bed, to get started. He threw on some sweats and went to find Lonnie, asking for coffee and the papers.  Fifteen minutes later, the two were sitting cross- legged in bed, checking out the world.  Lance, predictably enough, was  reading the Wall Street Journal while Justin grabbed the New York Post.  He hated the rag, but bought it every day just so he could get pissed when his name appeared. Today was no different.  He flipped it open to Page Six to see if he and Brit were mentioned again.  His eyes widened and he leaned closer to the picture.  He made a strangled sound and Lance looked up. "Holy Fucking Shit," Justin whispered, tears noticeable in his voice.  He pushed the paper over to Lance.  He knew Lance recognized the exact moment the picture had been snapped.  Justin was up against the wall, Lance grinding into him.  There was no mistaking what they had been doing. "Shit, Lance, what now?" Justin looked terrified.  Lance was as white as a sheet but the wheels had already started turning.  Justin sat waiting for Lance to come up with a plan to fix this mess. Just then Lance's cell phone rang.  He looked at the number and took a deep breath.  Across the bed, Justin studied Lance's face as he listened to whoever was on the other end.  "Yeah, we'll be there.  Twenty minutes.  I know." Lance closed the phone and said wearily, "That was Johnny.  Meeting in his office in twenty.  Lucky us.  The original agenda's been scrapped, needless to say." "Wait, Lance.  I'm scared," Justin said in a small voice.  Lance looked at him, his heart breaking for this naive kid– such a mix of adult and child. "We should be.  This is a disaster," Lance said tonelessly.  "Let's go." "Hold me.  Please?" Lance gathered him into an embrace and felt the trembling.  They all had a lot to lose, but Justin.....His thoughts disappeared when he felt the sobs start.  He let him cry for a few minutes and then patted him. Justin stepped out of the safe hold and wiped his eyes. Lance bit his lip.  "Let's see what the others have to say.  Maybe it won't be so bad," he said, but the expression on his face said he didn't believe a word. Twenty minutes later, they entered Johnny's office.  Five heads swiveled and five sets of eyes pinned them to the spot.  Justin stopped, paralyzed by the reaction.  They were furious.  He looked from one to the other and there was no one, not one, who was sympathetic. Lance's hand on his back propelled him forward.  He thudded heavily onto the sofa and put his head in his hands.  Lance sat down carefully, rubbing Justin's back, the only one offering comfort. Lance had no one. "Look at me, Justin," Johnny said sharply.  When Justin ignored the order, Johnny continued, "That was not the worst of it." He handed a copy of the London Mirror to Lance, opened to their version of Page Six.  Justin jerked up when he felt Lance's hand trembling and heard the gasp of shock.  He took the offered newspaper and stared at this newest nightmare. This pic showed them in bed, naked, Justin's arms over his head, Lance straddling him.  Apparently, London didn't have any qualms about nude photos.  The horror on Justin's face melted a little of the ice in the room; the baby was scared. Joey spoke first.  "Shit, Lance, I didn't know it was still going on." Johnny's voice was ice.  "You *knew* about this?" Joey stuttered, "Well...I ...uh..I knew they had been ....experimenting.  But I thought it was done." Johnny swung his gaze to Lance and Justin, "So.  How long has it been?" Justin had gone back to holding his head and staring at the floor, leaving Lance to answer.  "It's been three years but we didn't get serious until after the contract dispute.  Once Lou was off our backs. And then the group stayed strong through it all.  We figured we shouldn't give up this..." JC interrupted and everyone gasped when they heard the fury in his voice.  "What the fuck?  All this time?" He stared at Lance until Lance lowered his eyes, a blush spreading across his cheeks. Lance was remembering their conversation from years before.  JC had come on to him one night when they were all just a little bit drunk.  It had been sweet and giggly, but Lance had said no.  JC had been hurt, but understood when Lance said that it was because of the group, not wanting anything to destroy the group.  And now, now they threw it in his face–it was okay for *them*. Before Lance could speak, Chris made a joke, a weak attempt to defuse the situation.  It clearly didn't work as JC snapped, "This isn't a joke, Chris." He jumped up and started pacing.  "Now what?" Joey acted as the peacemaker.  "The fans accepted Kelly and the baby.  They're not as fragile as we think." JC sneered," The two heartthrobs screwing each other.  Well, frankly, I think the fans will see that a little differently." He stood over Lance, "And maybe you should have worried about the group, you two, instead of your dicks." Lance wanted to apologize but knew now was not the time.  He looked around, waiting for an answer to drop from the heavens.  It wasn't heavenly, but Johnny finally said, "It's done.  It's public. Cut the shit with the blaming.  Let's figure the spin." There was silence.  How do you spin pictures like those?  They were all thinking when Justin said, "We could say they're fakes, that it's not us." No one answered.  "We could ignore it.  Be above it all," offered Joey but it was obvious from the looks he got that that was not going to work. Lance cleared his throat and said softly, "We could tell the truth.  That Justin and I are lovers and have been and hope the fans will understand." Total silence filled the room now.  Then he felt Justin's hand on his arm.  "Can I talk to you for a minute–alone?" They looked around for permission before leaving the room. In the other room, Lance met Justin's frightened eyes.  "No, Lance, I can't.  I can't come out.  Not yet.  Please don't ask me to." Lance exhaled, his disappointment clear.  "Tell me something, Justin.  Is it over with us?" "God, no." "So we go on hiding.  Lying." "Not to the others.  Just outside the group.  Please, Lance, I'm not ready." Lance turned away and went to the window, staring out at the excitement that was New York.  He was torn.  He couldn't lie anymore but he couldn't give Justin up either. He felt Justin's presence and turned to him.  The eyes were pleading for understanding, for Lance's continuing love.  Lance sighed, knowing he couldn't deny him.  He started to pull Justin into a deep kiss before realizing that they were right in the window.  He stepped back. "Well?" Justin asked, the fear in his voice clear. "I understand, baby.  How about a compromise.  Trust me?" Justin nodded.  "Then let's go back and I'll tell everyone at the same time." They went back in and sat down.  Everyone waited.  Lance took a deep breath.  "I'm going to tell the fans I'm bisexual.  That I've been experimenting.  That the other night I caught Justin off guard after he was a little drunk." Justin gasped, "No, Lance." "It doesn't matter, Jus.  I can't stand the lies any more.  It'll take you off the hook.  The rest of you can claim shock.  Then we sit back and wait for the fans to react." The six men sat silently, mulling Lance's words.  It was a start.  It wasn't ideal and it might be the end, but it was the best they could do.  Joey and Chris both nodded in agreement.  They would each support his best friend. Lance looked at JC and Johnny. The anger was clear.  But so was the admiration for Lance's strength.  They nodded, too. Justin still sat, frozen.  He didn't want this for Lance.  He didn't want Lance to have to do this alone, but he couldn't do it with him. Not today or tomorrow or next week.  Maybe never. He stood finally and went over to Lance.  "I'm a coward.  I can't do what you're doing, but if you'll still have me, I still love you." Lance looked at him, the love so clear in his eyes, "Always, Justin, always." The End [ menu ]