Date: Thu, 20 Dec 2001 20:27:07 +0000
From: J-dot M <catsfan1@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Echo of Raindrops

Disclaimer: It is customary to start things out by saying, "This story is
purely fiction."  I cannot emphasize how fictional this story is.  None of
the events in this story have occured in these characters' lives.  All
celebrities and their families used in this story have no connection
whatsoever to this story.  I have not received permission from any of them
to write this fantasy material about them as it does not reflect anything
that happens in their lives.  It also does not reflect any of their sexual
preferences as I personally do not know what any of them do behind closed
doors.  This story is meant for a group of people at least 17 years of age.
It is based on a reality created by the author, therefore, there are no
boybands in my universe.  If you have any comments, critiscms, or just good
topics of discussion that concern this particular story, please feel free to
contact me at catsfan1@hotmail.com  And for all of those that can get past
this disclaimer without falling asleep, I hope you enjoy another piece of
the romance revolving about Brian Littrell and Justin Timberlake.

The Echo of Raindrops
Written by JM

		What did he like most about money?  The cars?  Well, they were an
obsession at one time.  He only owned three right now, but he wanted to
extend that collection.  He wanted at least eight, maybe nine just in case
he wanted to rebuild one and make it classic and vintage-like.  And the
girls?  Yeah, money helped there.  It made it easier most times, but he
didn't flaunt it.  He didn't try to push it in the women's face because he
didn't have a shit load, but he had enough to win him some dates.  Money was
always a bonus when it came to his friends because he could give back
sometimes.  Like to his best friends, the ones that really didn't give a
shit whether or not they saw him in one commercial or a guest spot on some
failing sitcom.  The ones that liked him for him and only him.  The three or
four ones he actually knew because everyone else was just a masquerade of
false smiles and pretty eyes that he never believed.  Money didn't help him
trust too many people.
		But love?  Oh, love and money never worked.  The money usually won over.
It kept people around longer.  It kept girlfriends sticking by his side even
though the love in their hearts had faded months prior.  And when he said "I
love you," they were always polite and just nodded, muttering something
about feeling the same.  But it was never the same.  It was just amnother
gift for a birthday, another chance to drive one of his cars, or another
chance to brag to their friends that he was the guy they might see on TV or
might see in a magazine ad.  He was a fucking commodity for girlfriends.  He
wasn't a boyfriend, but he was a bank that they wore on their arm in public.
		He never really looked for love though.  After his first few girlfriends
cheated on him, he figured he'd just date.  But several dates led to some
offbeat relationship that he never really understood, just went along with.
At night, when she wanted to lay there and cuddle to him, he'd tell himself
it was right.  He'd remind himself that it looked good when he had a
girlfriend because that was what a typical, twenty-year-old man would have.
Someone they could show off like he could show off his money.  And when the
smiles died away and there was no one celebrating him, he was celebrating
his misery because he kept telling himself that his misery was the love of
his dreams.
		Sometimes, when he really thought about it, he hated his mother for all of
this.  She took him away from Memphis when he was five.  She forced him into
New York, forced him in front of that fucking camera, and told him to smile
because it'd pay off in the end.  She made him go see that damn acting coach
for six years before he really started getting gigs and guest spots on TV
and then she told him this was his life, his career.  He didn't have friends
but she said that was normal because he was going to be a celebrity.
		Funny, add another seven years, seventeen commercials, twenty magazine
ads, three big guest spots on network television, and one minor, no-lines
extra in some Richard Gere flick and he still wasn't a celebrity.  He was
pretty known around New York, but that wasn't no Hollywood.  There were no
Academy Awards or Emmys or even a Tony in being Mr.
Every-Now-and-Again-Actor.
		He wasn't all jaded.  When he turned eighteen, he moved out of his
mother's penthouse apartment and found his own apartment several blocks
away.  When he turned nineteen and broke up with Veronica, he decided he
would wait until he really understood what love was before giving into
physical temptation and truly giving away his virginity.  At his twentieth
birthday party, when his friends hired a male stripper for a pratical joke,
he decided he was gay and that's why he didn't fall in love with women
anymore.  And a few months before he decided he was going to chase after the
role of Jason Sanders on Days of Our Lives, he resolved to end his acting
career if he did not win the role because the money and the cars and the
girls were no longer enough.  This time, he was going to find peace inside
himself and he was going to just be normal.
		But how could he just be Justin Timberlake when he didn't know how to be
Justin Timberlake.  He never played that role before.  There was nothing to
research about the character because who could he watch?  Himself?  He
didn't even know if he knew where to start to portray a man that never
really existed.  He was just a frame in the continuous slide of the movie
about young men that never find what they are meant to find in life.
		Nothing was like those old, classic, black and white sitcoms.  Nothing
slightly resembled the romances established in Casablanca or Gone With the
Wind or A Streetcar Named Desire.  It was all a myth, a place that he wanted
to be but could never reach.  He dreamt about being there though.  During
the day when he was waiting for his turn to audition.  Or late at night,
when he was crying in his room, so silently that his roommate didn't hear
him.  He shut his eyes, hold tears back, sniffle, and think about it.  Think
about a guy holding him and whispering those things that only a well-written
song could express.  He'd dream about kissing someone so passionately that
others cried while watching them.  He wanted one of those bewitching moments
where he stared into a pair of God-sent eyes that told him things the mouth
couldn't and arms that enraptured him in pleasure that no author could
express on paper.  He wanted it all and nothing more than that.
		"Next in line."  And yeah, sometimes, when standing in that ridiculously
long line at the local Starbucks, he thought about it then too.  He took a
simple step forward, eyes straight ahead with pouty cherry lips formed into
a one-dimensional smile.  He got a few looks from the girls working behind
the counter because they recognized him from television and because he was
beautiful.
		He wondered sometimes why people thought he was so good looking?  He had
cut the curly hair he was known for as a kid several months ago.  Now it was
just a sculpture of faint curls trying to grow back amongst brown strands of
hair.  The strands were sometimes wild and a little too much to control, but
he kept it natural.  He had a spraying of light brown hairs surrounding his
mouth and growing on his chin.  Evidence he was growing up, no doubt.  His
lips were always pouty, something he couldn't help.  They could be that deep
shade of pink that women always loved, but most times, they were ruddy.  His
eyes were dark blue, sometimes too dark for even him to love.  They were a
tainted river of cobalt and azure, something reminiscent of gray-blue.  He
sometimes hated his eyebrows because they were thick, but they were finely
shaped.  His nose was too big in his mind.  It looked too much like his
mother's.  His body was the standard for an Abercrombie & Fitch model and if
he was judged by his shoe sized, then there was no question whether he was
endowed in the lower portion of his body, but no one really saw that, so it
didn't matter.
		"Next in line."  Words were repeated and he took another step forward
because he wasn't close enough to the counter for the strange-looking man
sulking behind it.  "Let me get a double tall latté and..." He delayed his
statement, pretending to look over the menu with interest.  An exasperated
sigh clouded his endeavor and his eyes found a pair of auburn eyes squinting
mercilessly at him.  "Justin, we go through this almost every day.  You say
you want a double tall latté and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich just to
make a corny ass joke.  You and I both know very well that we don't have
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches here and we both know that line you used
is tired, lame, and very aggrivating for me.  So get your latté and move
aside so these other important people can get something to drink." the man
said, his voice stern, lifeless, and a little too strained for Justin.  But
he laughed.  Justin laughed, nodded, and moved aside, awaiting his latté
while the next person moved forward.
		"You must've had a sucky date last night Chris." Justin remarked while
leaning on the counter, trying not to pay attention to the stares he still
got from the female workers.  "Better than any date you've probably had all
your life Timberlick." Chris replied, popping open the cash register while
the customer handed him a twenty.  "Doubt it." Justin chimed, rolling his
tongue over his lips before winking at one of the female clerks.  Chris had
to roll his eyes and sigh harder.  "When was the last time you had a date J?
  Last... hmmm, last December, right?" Chris questioned sarcastically,
turning his back to Justin.  Justin chuckled quietly, pulling his body
erect.  Chris had a way of making Justin look bad, but that's what Justin
liked about the older man.  "Try last week." Justin boasted, crossing his
arms proudly.  "Try last yeah, right." Chris fussed with laughter,
cautiously handing Justin his cup.  Justin shook his head and fought off his
abashment when the women behind the counter began to giggle and point at
him.
		Something brushed by him, an arm and then a body was standing next to him,
holding up a cup that he was sure was empty and a smile that he was positive
could only come from a deity.  "Can I have another to go?" the man requested
and Justin froze for a second.  He didn't know who this man was but he knew
that smile couldn't be human.  Or real.  And that country accent was
beautiful.  This man couldn't have been from New York.  He couldn't have
been from anywhere other than the South because that intone had a Southern
drawl and that smile was unquestionably gentlemanly.
		"You had a double tall, right?" Chris asked, reaching over the counter to
cease the cup and Justin wanted to yank Chris forward and pleaded with him
to name this beautiful piece of artwork.  "Yeah." was all the man could say
without losing that gracefully grand smile.  Justin gasped lowly and tried
to shake his stare because looking at this man too long could mean he'd
never forget him when he walked away.
		Justin knew he'd have to disregard even seeing this man.  He hated it, but
Chris was right.  It had been so long since he'd had a date.  It felt like
forever since he knew what it was like to enjoy the company of another man.
Sure, he had gone out with women.  In fact, his roommate made it a habit to
take him out every two weeks just so he knew what life outside of their
apartment at night felt like.  But to actually date a man.  To be around
him, laugh with him, talk to him and know if chemistry was the least bit
possible was a joy he had been stripped of.
		Oh, but Justin was glad he was gay.  It gave him an advantage that most
never got.  He could stare at the man and dream of what things could be
without worrying about acting upon his thoughts and feelings.  Sometimes, he
was glad it was the adrogyny.  His heart was one-part man and one-part
woman.  Both parts loved men.  Both parts needed a man's touch and Justin
needed to know it was all right most nights.  He desired the approval of
many and the words from one to let him know loving someone was right, no
matter what sex they were.
		"If you don't sip on that now, you won't get to enjoy the strong taste it
has when it's hot." the man commented to Justin and in a contemporary
culture, Justin was sure those were just words of wisdom.  But in his mind,
they were songs not yet sung from a voice twinkling in the radiance of the
sun.  Justin watched the man tap the side of his cup and he felt foolish.
He giggled like a school girl, let his eyes bat like a teenager trying to
grow up too soon, and blushed like a man falling and falling hard.
		"And he's a real good actor too." Chris commented, holding the cup up for
the man.  Yeah, that was acting.  Trying not to cuss out loud and slam his
fist against the counter when the man grabbed his cup and just smiled at
Justin was damn good acting.  "I've seen his stuff before.  He's good.  A
bit more talkative on TV, but I won't hold it against him this time." the
man stated, moving away from Chris and Justin.  Justin's lips twitched, but
they didn't really open.  They didn't really say what he wanted them to say.
  They just released a sigh and nothing else.  They le that man walk away
without a word, without a struggle or attempt.
		Fuck.  That's all he thought.  He didn't want to care, but he did.  He was
a hopeless man.  He groaned and lowered his head because his eyes kept
seeing those strands of honey spun into blonde hair.  He could see those
remarkably blue eyes looking at him, telling him something in a language he
had not learned.  Lips that were pink and thin, but beyond enchanting and
succulent still called him.  There were dimples, smile-inducing dimples that
he wanted to run fingertips over and found out how they formed and flexed.
Cheeks were carved like marble and a jawline was so noticeable that Justin
was sure faint, endearing kisses were left there thousands of times.
		The clearing of a throat left him silent.  He looked at Chris and saw that
smug smile.  He wanted to wash it away with turpentine and dip it in acid.
"Genius Timberlick.  That was pure genius." Chris chuckled, stirring anger
to a new height inside of Justin.  He was a fucking celebrity in some light.
  He didn't need bullshit like that.  And hell, with his looks, he's sure he
could pull a lot of men if he openly told the world he was gay.  So why did
he need Chris' approval or the attention of that one man?
		Probably because Justin wanted a normal life, a life where he could love
any man without having to show him off like a rock on a girl's finger for
the press to gawk at.  "What are you talking about Chris?" Justin
questioned, trying to be oblivious to what had occurred, but there was no
way he could do that.  He lifted the lid from his latté and took a quick
sip, his mind still on those delicate words spoken so easily.  "Come on J.
You were staring at that man.  You had a little thing for him and when he
finally says something to you, you freeze the fuck up and let him just walk
away.  You can't fool me.  You wanted to say something to win him over and
wine and dine him later on tonight." Chris said, keeping his voice low
because for him to say anything loud enough for anybody to hear would cause
some kind of scandal.
		Justin shook his head.  He told his heart to deny everything and to
pretend like nothing could bother him.  Not one man.  Hell, not one man he
saw for five minutes and didn't even see a flicker of romantic interest in
him.  "Bullshit Chris.  He just looked like a nice guy and I wondered what
the hell he was doing in this corrupted city." Justin insisted, but he
wasn't immune to the truth.  He knew it all too well.  And the way Chris
just nodded with that cocky glint in his eyes, the one that said he knew
Justin was lying just made JUstin move away from the counter and grumble
something very unbecoming.  "I think his name's Brian.  He usually comes
around here in the afternoon.  Just in case you wanted to know." Chris said
just loud enough to catch Justin's attention.  Justin turned to him with a
scowl, a smile in his eyes, but a scowl embedded into his expression.
		Brian.  Brian?  B-R-I-A-N.  The B to the R to the I to the A and the N.
That name just rolled nice off his tongue, slipped across his teeth, and
bathed his lips in happiness.  But what was he thinking?  He wasn't going to
see Brian again.  He wasn't going to dare make an ass out of himself and
visit that Starbucks in the middle of the afternoon just to see Brian again
and not say anything worth saying.  He just couldn't do it.
		The second he pushed open the door to his lavish apartment, he heard a
call, a female voice beckoning on him.  "Is that you Justin?" she asked
loudly and Justin stepped inside without speaking.  He shut the door quietly
and rustled his fingers through his hair.  He slipped a hand into his pocket
and dropped his keys on the closest table.  He took a quick sniff and smelt
him.  Faded cologne mixed with wine, a familiar but unwanted fragrance.
Damn it, it was him because Justin peeked around one corner and saw him
walking around in just a pair of faded blue boxers.  "Britney..." he hissed,
not thinking to offer a response to her earlier call.  He was too frustrated
now.
		A golden mane of blonde hair peeked from around the corner, not surprising
Justin, but keeping him complacent.  She smiled at him with baiting pink
lips devoid of glossy tint and eyes ringed with mascara too thick for her.
She tossed her hair to one side and held her shirt up with one arm.  Her
lower body was decorated in a slinky, long skirt and her feet skid across
the ground like an adolescent.  "Hey baby boy." she cheered, trying to
present a peppy smirk.  She laid a customary kiss on his cheek and a hand on
his shoulder.  She could read his thoughts without trying.  They were just
that close.  They knew too much about each other and she knew too much about
that charcoal-drawn expression to shy away from the obvious.
		He didn't have to say anything before she twirled a finger in her
honey-blonde locks and dropped her head.  "I've asked you not to bring that
artsy, upperclass asshole to the apartment Brit-Brit." Justin groaned
softly, shrugging away from her hand.  He shook his head at her, drawing in
torrent breaths of aggravation.  "And I've pleaded with you not to have sex
with him here too." Justin added, peering his eyes to leave her drowning in
her guilt.  She sighed and flipped her hair back.  She was stronger than
that.  She could say something, but her friendship with Justin meant just a
little bit more.
		"Hey Britney... did you throw away the condom?" he called out and both
Justin and Britney groaned.  "Just give me ten minutes and I'll have him out
of here." Britney pleaded, grabbing onto Justin's hand with genuineness
swimming through her almond-brown eyes.  She was almost too hard to resist.
"You've got five." Justin insisted and she was glad Justin was gay and an
ex-boyfriend because anyone else would've killed her.
		"Hello fudge boy.  Get any head today?" he said and Justin shivered when a
hand made direct contact with his ass, a slap that echoed throughout the
apartment.  Britney withheld a giggle and grinned foolishly when he slinked
his sculpted arms around her waist, locking his fingers over her navel.
"No, but I bet you did JC." Justin murmured, shrugging away desolate
thoughts of the man.  He listened to that mindless laughter and stared at
Britney with disgust.  Why did she like him again?  "Gross Justin.  I do not
give head." Britney affirmed, slinking away from her lover.  She tied her
shirt up and sauntered into the kitchen without another look.  "No, but you
sure give good hand babydoll." JC boasted, pulling another repulsed moan
from his lover.
		"Could you be anymore of a complete bitch JC?" Justin asked, moving toward
the living room with an appalled expression clutching his face.  He fiddled
with the flowers resting on the coffee table before plopping down on one of
the plush, white couches arranged fancily in the room.  "You're the one
chasing dicks to suck Justin.  I don't think bitch suits me more than it
does you." JC gushed, waving his hands around extravagantly while contorting
his expression into a snobbish face.  He leaned on the arm of the couch,
slipping nimble fingers through brownish-blonde curls.
		Justin hated that JC could be gorgeous at times.  His hair curled when it
got damp and he had just the right amount of facial hair to be resemble a
Greek god or a Roman warrior.  His body was lean, but muscular and his eyes
were pieces of sapphire in a sea of blue.  He had a small sprkiling of hair
in the cneter of his chest and legs that could probably do magical things in
bed.  He wore a chord-necklace with a Leo pendant hanging tightly from it.
His hands were soft-looking and he was sure JC did wonderful things with
them.
		Justin wondered sometimes if JC was bisexual and, if he wasn't so damn
arrogant, would he be kind enough to touch Justin in the way he probably
touched Britney?  Then he thought about JC's smug smile again and prayed JC
would never touch him like that.  But JC had qualities about him that said
he found a little more interest in men than in women.  Plus, his lips... his
lips were so thick, rounded, pink.  They were perfect for kissing and other
erotic activities.  They had to have sucked at least one dick in their time.
		"Keep looking Justin." JC said and Justin swallowed quickly because was he
staring again?  He had to be because JC was smiling at him and standing up,
stretching like a cat on the prowl.  "One day you'll find a man as good
looking as me." JC added, scratching his crotch and Justin had to turn his
eyes away.  "I don't want anyone as full of themself as you are." Justin
hissed, sucking in his lower lip as JC crossed his path.  He heard a laugh
and then the sound of footfalls disappearing in another direction.  "Fucking
asshole." he said aloud, raking his fingers over the soft fabric of the
couch.  He was never that fond of JC and just being around JC reminded
Justin why.
		When Justin stopped trying to ravage the material of the couch, he forced
himself to stand and leave the living room behind.  He walked with easy
steps toward the long hallway leading to his bedroom.  He didn't like
sitting by himself, devoid of sound or something to concentrate on.  "When
are you going in for your second audition?" Britney questioned him, stepping
in front of him without thought.  Justin sighed when he stopped, easing to
one side to slip past Britney.  "Sometime next week.  Lance will let me know
later this week." Justin replied, sinking his hands into his pockets while
skating his feet across the beige carpet.  "Should I be expecting his call?"
Britney asked and Justin could hear a hint of interest in her voice.  Yeah,
she liked Lance.  He liked her too, but was always too shy to say so.  He
never expressed his thoughts or feelings to her.  Just kept to himself.
"Expect him to drop by." Justin said crisply, latching his hand onto the
doorknob of his bedroom.  He wanted to look back to see if she was smiling
that country-girl grin she only wore when she liked someone, but he didn't.
He just pushed open the door and slipped inside.
		Britney was a good girl.  He always thought so.  Even when they dated
years ago, he never thought she had a bad bone in her.  Sure, she swore like
a sailr at times and God knows her wardrobe could be a bit on the whorish
side, but she was just a young woman trying to find her place in the world
like he was.
		She was his best friend.  There was no question in that.  She was by his
side when he confessed his sexuality.  She left behind her sorority-like
lifestyle when he decided to move out of his mother's penthouse.  She didn't
think twice about Nikki, Danay or Mandy when he asked her to move in with
him.  When Justin was most lonely, she knew it and always put aside dates
with men to be with him.  It was just in her.  She didn't like Veronica or
Tonya or even Christina because they were all once girlfriends of Justin and
they were always bitches after he broke up with them.
		She respected most of Justin's rules, but Justin knew Britney was an
incessant flirt.  She loved men.  She loved being with men, trying to figure
which ones she liked and which ones she knew she'd never marry.  Hell, the
girl loved sex, but only with the right man.  She wasn't a
one-night-stand-kind-of-girl.  It was never her fix.  She never took trips
to the club to end up drunk and in bed with a man she knew for a few hours.
There had to be dates, visits to her house, and semi-approval from Justin.
		JC was an exception.  Justin met him after their first romp on the
balcony.  Wasn't it late May?  He didn't think Britney or JC cared because
they probably would've fucked in the dead cold of December if it meant it
was going to be good sex.  Justin hated that and still hated JC.
		A subtle knock on the door left him restless.  He had just removed his
shirt and really didn't feel like exposing his naked upper torso to JC.  A
man of that low-caliber didn't have the right.  Not in Justin's mind.
"Yes?" he called out, fiddling with the belt on his pants.  "Joan Crawford's
on the phone, baby boy." Britney called through the wood and Justin smiled.
He loved Britney.  They shared their own intimate smiles, looks, and even
codes.  It was so fourth grade, but it was definitely something he couldn't
live without.
		"Thanks Brit-Brit.  Tell her to hold on a minute." Justin requested,
snatching a button-down shirt from his closet.  "Hurry up.  I think she saw
some wire-hangers in the closet." Britney gushed and Justin couldn't fade a
laugh.  He slipped the shirt over his broad shoulders and left it open
because teasing JC would only make him more contented.
		A quick glance in the mirror, a smoothly drawn smile and a swivel of the
feet brought him to the door, pulling it open slowly.  He took a cautious
step outside, smiling at his fully clothed roommate.  She dangled the
cordless phone by its attena, one hand on her hip as if she didn't know she
was a diva in some crowds.  "Nice shirt." she chimed, holding the phone
closer to his face.  Justin offered her a grin, snatching the phone away
from her petite fingers.  He leaned against the doorjamb and laid the phone
on his shoulder, cradling it between his head and shoulder.
		"Timberlake here." he said cooly and kept his smile for Britney because he
knew she wasn't going to walk away.  Not during a call to his mother.  Maybe
it was because she felt like she had to support him or be there for him.  It
could've been because Lynn Harless could be more than a bitch sometimes,
criticizing her son without thought.  Add in the fact that Lynn was either
drunk or just unaware at times and Justin knew why Britney never left his
side when he talked to his mother.
		This time, Britney didn't move an inch.  Not until Justin removed the
phone from his ear, let the color return to his face and stopped pinching
the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.  She took a tep closer
to him when he dropped his head with disgrace.  When he sighed, she grabbed
the phone from his shaking hand and pretened she didn't hear Lynn say the
words she said.  She made herself believe that Justin didn't agree to do
another fucking commercial and two more teen clothing line shoots.  She ran
a hand up and down his arm and clutched the phone to her chest, thinking of
calling Lynn back and letting her know just what went through her mind.
		"So.. met a guy, did ya?" Britney asked and Justin's head raised briskly.
He shot her a perplexed look, but he knew.  It was Britney.  She knew it.
She always did.
		Justin laughed lowly and let his head rest against the doorjamb.  He
trailed a hand up his own arm, fingers slipping daintily over Britney's.  He
nibbled on his lower lip and gave her a small nob, one that was almost
unnoticeable.  Maybe he wasn't supposed to have meant it, but he did.  He
let her see that creamy sunshine in his azure eyes.  He let her catch a peek
of his happiness, something he knew he shouldn't have.  Not at this point in
his life.  Not when he had sworn off love because he was confident that he'd
never find the real thing.  Just a good imitation.  But nothing stopped him
from showing that crooked smirk.  He.  Met.  A guy.
		Britney giggled and skated her hand from his arm.  She watched tears sink
back behind Justin's eyes, pushing back semi-curled blonde hair behind her
shoulders.  "Well, you know what this means right?" Britney questioned, hope
whistling in her appearance.  Justi did, but he didn't admit it verbally.
He stood straight and shook his head because he didn't want it.  "No, Brit.
Don't think it." he told her, thoughts of slinking away into the broken
shadows of his room and closing the door, ignoring what she was going to
say.  "We just have to call Wade." she raved and Justin couldn't move fast
enough.  She had a tight grip on the tail of his shirt and he loved that
shirt too much to let it rip in a mad dash into his room.  He groaned and
slinked a hand over his restless short curls.  "No Britney.  I just saw a
guy.  We didn't officially talk or anything." Justin refuted, but she wasn't
listening.  She was too stuck in her ways.  Too fucking stubborn to listen
to anyone once her mind was set.  "I'm calling him.  You scoped a hottie and
we're gonna make sure you catch him." Britney insisted, tugging Justin in
the opposite direction he wanted to move in.  "But we're not in the fucking
third grade Britney.  Do we have to do this?" Justin complained, but he knew
he wanted it.  He loved the attention.
		He adored being around Britney and Wade because they dedicated every
waking moment to him.  They sat around eating small cartons of ice cream and
making corny jokes and talking about Justin and the perfect man for Justin.
They never agreed on which features he needed or what kind of personality
would correspond well with Justin's, but they agreed he had to be a hopeless
romantic, just like Justin.  Mainly because Britney and Wade didn't need to
search for fairy tale live like Justin did.  They were just damn fine and
dandy with what they had.  Britney with JC and Wade with some offbeat,
rave-loving man named Alex or AJ.
		Justin could never decide on a name for him.  Justin did decide that AJ
was a little too extreme for Wade at times, but Wade liked that.  He liked
AJ's 'fuck-the-world' attitude and the way he could so ridicuoulsy
affectionate that it turned Justin's stomach to sugar.  AJ smelled like
cigarettes and cheap beer and his hair changed colors more times than Justin
changed underwear.  He wore lots of jewelry and dressed in dark clothes.
His bottom lip was pierced, he had tattoos and he could stand to gain some
weight, but he complemented Wade well.  He was good dancer, told dirty
jokes, and loved sex.  Wade did too.
		Justin often wondered why he had so many friends that loved sex?  They all
loved to fuck and he barely masturbated enough to keep himself thinking
about sex.  He ignored it most times.  He knew sex wasn't a bad thing, just
something he didn't indulge in.  It was something he wasn't ready for.  It
was meant to be cherished, remembered forever.  To him, it couldn't be as
easy as slipping a condom on and slipping inside some hot, tight piece of
flesh.  It had to be something greater.  It should make his toes curl and
his fingers shake.  He should feel sharp pricks of pleasure over every pore
in his body.  Yeah, sex wasn't sex to him.  It was a long walk in the rivers
of heaven with an angel by his side.
		Justin was distant when Lance spoke to him.  He really wasn't paying
attention to what Lance said, although he knew it had something to do with
another damn screentest with Kirsten Storms and another interview with a few
of the writers of Days of Our Lives.  For someone who hadn't even won the
part yet, he felt like he was already on the show.
		He thought about sex.  He thought about sex with Brian.  He was certain he
didn't know enough about Brian to think about sex with him, but he still did
it.  He didn't know why.  An entire week had passed him and he had still not
seen Brian.  Not once.
		It was not as though he tried.  He stuck to his regular routine.  He kept
going to Starbucks early in the morning and never did run into that country
angel again.  He blushed when Chris made sly comments about Brian stopping
by and tried not to slam his fist against the counter when Chris teased
Justin about his obsession.  It wasn't really an obsession.  He just had to
know.  He had to know what Brian was wearing, if he was smiling, if maybe he
remembered Justin and said something coy and cute to Chris about him?  He
wanted to know everything.  Anything Chris knew about Brian, Justin wanted
to know.
		But he never got the courage up to get his coffee in the afternoon.  He
didn't want to risk bumping into Brian and stuttering out something unworthy
of Brian's ears.  He would prefer to pretend Brian didn't exist because that
would save him the trouble of making an ass out of himself when Brian said
he was straight and had no fucking interest in Justin whatsoever.
		"Justin?  Justin, do you want to go the the premiere or not?" Lance was
asking Justin and Justin turned to him.  He gave him a weak smile and tried
to pass off an interested look.  It was a feeble attempt.  Lance saw right
through him and he sighed loudly, tucking his hands behind his head while
slouching on the bench.  Why did he agree to meet Lance in the park again?
Oh, yeah.  It was because he was pissed at his mother and couldn't stand to
meet his assistant at his mother's.  He didn't want to go there, see her
half-drunk off her ass, lounging around on furniture that he was sure his
money helped pay for.
		Justin smirked for a moment.  "Do you get to have sex much?" Justin asked,
watching blush seep into Lance's rounded cheeks.  Lance kept his head down,
focusing on some papers.  Lance was a shy guy.  He was from Mississippi,
talked with a thick accent, kept his hair styled the same way, his attire in
the same fashion, and his smile in the same form.  He hid his pale green
eyes when he was embarrassed and twisted his mouth into a frown when he was
angered.  He looked like he had soft skin but Justin never touched.  Lance
would be too freaked out.  He was too Southern Baptist to really understand
the way Justin felt about men, but he tried.  Justin knew Lance tried.
Lance tried damn hard and sometimes, Lance even talked about it, when they
were both a little tipsy and it had been a long night of partying or
celebrating something Justin didn't even want to celebrate.
		"We are not going to talk about that, Justin.  We don't have time to
socialize." Lance insisted, keeping his eyes lowered and his thoughts
elsewhere.  Justin let out a huff before laughing.  Lance was so obvious.
How could Lance be happy or social?  Britney was but ten feet away, playing
'keep away' with JC and some fucking dog.  Theyw ere laughing and screaming
and being all flirty.  They were being what Lance and Britney were not.
Wasn't it called happy?  In love?  Foolish?  Something to that effect.
		"You need to get off your country ass and go socialize with Britney."
Justin fussed lowly, nudging Lance with a friendly elbow.  That stare wasn't
too friendly.  Justin slumped a little and ducked his head.  Lance wasn't
happy with the suggestion.  "She is with JC." Lance hissed, lifting his
papers higher, trying to look interested in the words splotched across them.
  He was making a point.  He wasn't like that.  He respected relationships
and boundaries and all those things that good little Southern boys did.
Justin did too, when the bouyndaries were legitimate.  Not when a
relationship was based solely on sex and physical attraction.  Then again,
what did Justin know?  He had no one.
		Justin decided to lean forward, decided to watch JC and Britney, study
them because maybe he didn't see it.  Maybe he wasn't meant to see it, but
he sure as hell wanted to try.  He wanted to try and understand why Britney
squealed loudly when JC threw his arms around her and swung her around.  He
wanted to comprehend what Britney liked about that ridiculous strip of hair
representing a goatee tickling against her chin when he kissed her.  Maybe
he'd never figure out why Britney ran her fingers throughhis long hair with
tenderness or kiss the bottom of his lip before running away, but he wanted
to know why JC didn't need to say three words and Britney was okay
pretending they were in love and in a real relationship.  And if that's the
way it was supposed to be, why couldn't he have figured that out long ago
and be just as complacent as Britney?
		"You're drifting again and we need to..." Lance tried to get the words
out, but Justin reclined back and turned his focal point on Lance.  "Why
don't you at least try Lance?  She could be ten times happier with you.
You're a good guy, a decent guy.  One that respects her and knows talking to
her means more than just another way to fuck her later on." Justin pleaded
with Lance, tracing a hand over the sleeve of Lance's shirt.  He was being
sincere, or at least his best imitation of it.
		Lance stole his arm away with a violent jerk.  He exhaled heavily, like he
did when he was mad, and slammed his papers down next to his leg.  He leaned
near Justin and squinted his eyes, hiding light green eyes under long
lashes.  His brow furrowed and there went the twisted frown.  Justin knew to
shut up.
		"Justin, why don't you try?  Why don't you try to find whatever it is
missing in your life instead of trying to repair everyone else's?  You run
around trying to make me, Britney, and Wade feel better about ourselves, yet
you don't feel good about yourself.  Why don't you quit trying to be
something you're not?" Lance declared, his voice decorated in anger.  Justin
had not seen this side of Lance.  Never expected it.  He didn't even think
it existed.  "You don't want to be an actor or a model or anything
semi-related to the fucking entertainment feild.  Yet, you don't have a lick
of college under your belt, not a day's worth of experience in any other
area of work and your social life is just another show you try to act out in
real life." Lance added, eyes still squared and lips still twisted.
		Sometimes, it's just not real enough for Justin.  It's not real until he
hears the words.  Until all of his nightmares are presented to him and he
has to wake up from that numb state.  He has to walk home in the snow, away
from that happy land of ignorance where he took refuge for so long.  He
likes to wash it away with a vodka and his tears, but it's not always the
easiest thing to do when it's the middle of the day and people are watching
you.  He wonders if maybe one day he can just swallow down his fears and
face the world like it is?  Probably not and surely not in front of Lance.
		He didn't cry, but he let tears prick his eyes.  He felt his nose growing
red and he sniffled, staring at Lance with disbelief.  Lance didn't mean the
words and that was showing in his face, but he still said them.  He still
woke Justin up from that fucking dream world he adored so much.  "I.. I
don't.." Justin was too caught in his words.  He couldn't say it out loud.
He thought it might feel him better, but he just couldn't admit it.  Not to
himself.  Not to Lance.
		"Boys... are you two having a meeting or gossiping like a bunch of girls?"
Britney questioned, pulling both Lance and Justin from their ghostly glare.
She was standing over them, watching them while JC watched her.
		Justin didn't sniffle.  He refused to let Britney know he was upset.  He
couldn't let anyone see he was burdened.  It would ruin the illusion.  It
was the key to his life.  Hide it and the world will continue to revolve.
		Justin blinked back tears so easily.  Acting did him well.  He cleared his
throat and lifted his head, a believeable smile traced upon his pouty lips.
"Sorry.. we were supposed to be working, huh?" Justin laughed, his voice
choked.  He turned his eyes back on Lance, a look of forgiveness shading his
smile.  He waited for Lance to nod before sniffling.  He raked fingers
through his hair and tried not to look stressed or rattled by Lance's words.
  He was supposed to be calm, at ease, because if Britney knew he was
troubled, he'd never hear the end of it.  He would end up crying, showing
his disappointment.  He'd reveal who he really was: A disoriented boy
without a road to walk.
		Britney was questionable and it was in her lips.  They twitched and a
smooth tongue ran over them slowly, wiping away a chaste smile.  She was
trying to understand, trying to see past appearances and trust what ached in
her bones.  "You know how Justin gets when we starts talking about
something.  He just can't shut up." Lance said and he was more than
convincing.  He left Britney mystified, something he did so well.  He hid
feelings for her so well, never looking directly in her eyes or speaking all
that attled in his heart.  His thoughts were the best hologram.
		Britney sighed and chose to settle for what she saw.  She crossed her arms
and Justin breathed easier.  She wasn't questioining or asking.  She was
just being.  She was standing with a perplexed smile that made Justin smile
back, a customary expression he had to relinquish to silence thoughts
blooming into existance.  He settled into a comfortable position on the
bench, crossing a leg over another, resting a hand into his lap while
stretching another arm across the back of the bench.  He licked his tongue
out, letting the tip swivel over his upper lip with careful movements.  He
lowered his brow while twitching his nose, waiting for her to say something.
  She wanted to.  He felt it.  He discerned her thoughts because he was
accustom to doing it.  It was Britney.  He knew Britney better than himself.
  It wasn't something he did on purpose or out of habit.  He just knew her.
It was unexplainable, but so expected.
		"Where's JC?" she questioned, breaking away from subtle, untrusting
glances with Justin and Lance.  She searched the area while Lance and Justin
both released quiet, almost unnoticeable sighs.  "Isn't he playing with
himself somewhere?" Justin asked, purposely putting the words together.  He
heard Lance laughed lowly and swallowed his own giggle.  "Probably playing
with someone else." Lance whispered, his words quick and low.  "What?"
Britney asked and, this time, Justin laughed.  He laughed loud, one of those
laughs that required him to clap his hands together and then throw them over
his mouth with shame.  And again, he had to bare the displeasure of
Britney's stare, a squinted-eyes one that left him degraded.
		Her body leaned, her back arched, and her face met with his, eyes staring
humorisly at his lowered head.  Strands of her sleek blonde hair fell toward
her face and she let them remain, waiting for him to feel her heat and for
his eyes to raise and charm away her anger.  "Lance, honey, are you maiing
jokes?" Britney inquired, her voice sauced with sweetness.  She waited, but
he stayed still.  He was fragile, possibly bronzed in glass.  She licked her
lips and sighed, staying locked in her position.  "Because I expect smartass
stuff from Justin, but not you cutie.  You're too kind, too sweet, and too
normal to act that way." Britney added, thickening her voice with emphasis.
		He stirred just a little.  His head raised and his expression called for
mercy.  "I'm sorry." he whispered so low he knew only she heard him.  But he
found a princess in her eyes.  He found everything that he knew he wanted,
but never dared tried to get.  She was royal.  She was something he couldn't
touch.  Wasn't he just little old Lance from Mississippi?  She was Britney.
She Britney Jean Spears, from Louisana, living in New York without a trouble
in the world.  She was a princess to the tired, out-of-date women living New
York.  Everything they were not, she was.  Everything they were, she was
too.
		"Sorry for what?" she wondered, just out of pure curiosity.  She leaned
upward and crossed her arms.  She watched his glare, the way his soft, lime
eyes looked upon her like she was something.  Like she was more than Britney
Spears, that girl she saw in the mirror everyday and sometimes hated.  He
looked at her like she was somebody.  Like she.  Was.  Somebody.
		"He's sorry that your boy-toy is over there talking to another guy."
Justin boasted, leaning forward on the bench, fully intrigued as he watched
JC talk lively to another man.  He wanted to know who the man was, if maybe
he had seen him before.  Maybe he was right?  Maybe JC had a taste for other
things in him?  Maybe.. maybe he shouldn't have said that because Britney's
face scrunched up and suddenly, she was a jealous girlfriend.
		Britney, of all the women he had met, loved, and hated, was a jealous
girlfriend.  That was something she was not.  She carried too much class,
too much dignity, and too much sex appeal to ever be threatened by another
woman.  But JC was chatting up a healthy conversation with a woman.  It was
a man.  Justin could see the man's back, the way his hair was cut, the way
his jeans covered the shape of his ass, and his shirt hung baggy.  He was a
bit shorter than JC, but he was average.  He was.. Brian.
		A gasp, a shudder, and then a muffled scream led the way for eyes to flock
to him.  Brian had turned and was walking with JC, walking closer to them.
"What the hell is your problem Justin?" Lance hissed, pinching Justin's arm
to shake away that ghostly face of astonishment.  Justin was definitely at a
loss for words.  But not again.  He couldn't let himself fall victim to
beauty again.  If he was going to ever know what this man could mean to his
life, he had to speak this time.  He had to make every word worth it, every
look one that Brian wouldn't forget.  Hell, he was a flirt.  Britney told
him so.  So did Wade, but that was when Wade wanted to suck Justin's dick.
Still, they both said it.
		"Hey, I recognize that smiley face." Brian spoke first and Justin shivered
with wamrth.  He smiled back at Brian because Brian was smiling, smiling
hard.  He was revealing dimples and even some teeth.  "Of course you do.
He's been on TV quite a few times, ya know?" Britney spoke up, hooking her
arm around JC's while drawing him closer.  Brian glanced at her and arched a
brow.  He let his eyes stray back to Justin and Justin stayed quiet.  "Uh,
yeah.  But actually, I thought he was this guy I met the other day." Brian
replied, unsure with his tone.
		Britney took a moment to exchange glares with Brian and then Justin.
Curiosity was too easy of a word to sum up her thoughts.  "Sorry, I guess I
should introduce myself since you know my sweetie pie here.  I'm Britney."
she said, outstretching her hand to Brian, who was still lost in a stare
with Justin.  He stirred and he let his body turn slightly to greet her with
a spirited smirk.  His hand touched hers, but his mind drifted on other
courses.  "I'm Brian." he replied simply, but the name was greater than just
something given to him at birth.  It was the echoing sound of a smile
bathing on her lips.  It brightened the stars in her eyes and raised the
arch of her brow.  She wanted to scream something or just giggle a little,
but she settled with shooting Justin a knowing look before nodding.  "Nice
to meet ya Brian." she replied, her accent just as thick as his.
		He wondered of Britney meant to hold Brian's hand that long?  Not that he
cared.  If he was her, he probably never would've let go.  Something about
those breathtaking eyes, that inviting smile, the way every curve of his
face was accented by some stream of light, left Justin wondering why Brian
wasn't the one on television from time to time.  Why wasn't Brian the
celebrity?  Maybe God loved Brian too much to make him live the fucked up
life that Justin led?  It didn't matter.  Brian was lovely.  Brian was kind,
nothing like the other men of New York.  Brian was looking at him and had a
nice smile for him.  Brian was making him turn all girly and he hated being
girly.
		"I know Brian here from Eighty-Eight Keys." JC mentioned, as if Justin
could even hear that fuck speak when Brian was around.  He attempted to let
his eyes find something else to concentrate on, like Britney's petite shorts
or the way the wind lifted strands of JC's hair.  Possibly the way Lance
kept tapping his foot because JC was around or just maybe, maybe he could
think of times when he was a child and he'd stand outside watching all of
the golden, auburn, copper, and scarlet leaves fall like dancing daisies in
the wind.
		Lance's foot stopped and Justin had lost that block of concentration so
easily.  He lifted his head and observed the subtle way Lance tilted his
head to the side, staring up at JC with wonder.  "Eighty-Eight what?" he
questioned with a strong bass voice.  Justin snickered softly, rubbing his
fingers over his knee.  "Eighty-Eight Keys, Lance.  You know, that place JC
works at when he wants to pretend he does something with his life besides
sit around my apartment and fool around with Britney." Justin remarked and
he was pretty sure if Britney was close enough, she would hit him.  "Oh."
Lance replied, a grin trying to bypass his composed state.  "No, that's
where I work when I'm not busy on my other job.  Thanks." JC noted hastily,
his eyes squinted toward Justin.  Justin rolled his eyes and leaned back on
the bench.  "I can see someone's already filled the position for biggest
phony.  Any positions left in the bitch department, or are you holding all
the titles?" Justin inquired with sarcasm washing over his tongue.  He
crossed his ankles and stretched his legs out, still avoiding eye contact
with Brian, because then he wouldn't be so breezy.  He'd be nervous and his
words wouldn't flow so easily.  He'd be anything but this Justin Timberlake.
		"I'm just following your lead." JC sung out, tightening his embrace with
Britney because he knew it made Justin mad and that's all he wanted.  Brian
laughed that time and damn it, Justin didn't mean to look at him.  He didn't
mean to see those crinkling clouds of blue that he fell so deep for.  What
was wrong with him?  He didn't know Brian.  Not enough to feel these
feelings.  He didn't trust trying.  He didn't believe in taking his heart
and wearing it on his sleeve.  It meant too much.  It broke too easily.
		He swallowed hard when Brian crossed his arms and tried to settle his
laughter.  "Let me guess, you two are best friends?" Brian joked and Justin
hated it.  He even made good jokes.  Fuck, he laughed.  Fuck, he was smiling
and he was smiling right at Brian.  "Nothing of the sort." JC snorted and he
was so damn snooty.  Justin gritted his teeth and lowered his lids.  He eyed
the way Britney laughed with him, her small hand learning the curves of her
lover's face while his hands danced over her belly.  They were cute; sort of
like a Teletubby.  Fun for the kids, but sickening to the adults.
Especially for Justin and Lance.
		Light blue eyes captured him and he thought he saw them smile with glee.
"Anyway, Brian plays down at Eighty-Eight Keys at least once a week.  In
fact, aren't you playing tomorrow?" JC inquired, stealing away Justin's joy
because those eyes were on JC now, offering their concentration and their
precious time.  Justin wanted that.  He wanted soft eyes, easy lips, smooth
skin that floated under his fingertips like the ocean.  "Yeah, I'll be there
tomorrow night.  All of ya'll should come out." Brian spoke and Justin
shivered again.  Why did he keep reacting that way?  To this one man?  This
little country gentleman that must've been some musician because he played
at that smoky, dark club that JC worked at.  "I'd love to go see your show.
I'm sure it's rather good if JC here brags about it." Britney chimed in that
perkily, 'I'm going to have sex tonight' voice she always threw out when JC
had his arms around her.  He heard Lance decline, something about an
important meeting with his mother and it was Justin's turn because JC was
going without question.  "Coming J?" Britney asked first and Justin let his
words delay a little.  He located those blues again and licked his lips,
hoping something in them assisted him in his response.  "Will you come?"
Brian requested, almost pleaded.  Well, Justin wanted it to be a plea.  He
wanted it to be a formal invite.  Maybe just the two of them?  Somewhere in
a corner of the club where Brian could sing soft, brilliant songs of love
that would Justin make swoon even harder and want to throw everything away
just to be with that little country gentleman.
		"I wouldn't miss it." Justin finally got the courage to speak.  He didn't
know how he did, but his heart liked to leave the darkness of his chest for
brief seconds to force words out that were just right.  And looking at Brian
was just right.  Watching the way that candid smile lifted over his lips and
broke through an air of friendliness was just so right.  "Great.  I'll see
ya'll there then." Brian added, cementing the deal.  He left them and Justin
wasn't thinking about that screentest he had to do later on.  He was
thinking about what he should wear or what cologne to spritz on or if he'd
be able to walk with the butterflies climbing through his body, fluttering
their large, colorful wings against his hot skin.
		He didn't really think he could be this helpless when it came to men or
women or love or any of that 'meant-to-be' shit.  But he really was.  He was
a slave to it.  He fought it for years, even letting himself believe he
didn't want to be that guy who fell in love with someone and never knew what
it was like to have that love returned.  He was just another statistic.
		Justin sat with unmoveable eyes.  Sure, he couldn't help the fact that he
looked at Britney and JC when they giggled and made corny ass jokes about
the club or acted really stupid because they had about three glasses of wine
and were practically toasted from just that.  He tried to distant his eyes
from the fact that Britny had a top that practically showed everything under
the collarbone or that JC's shirt was so fashioned for a gay man that he
even looked the part now.  And yeah, he had looked at the attendants of the
club; none really familiar to him, just masked faces in a sea of dreary
happiness.  He paid great attention to the waitress because she was laidback
and nothing he really expected at that club.
		But when Brian got on that stage, everything became bloches of white.  He
only knew Brian.  He could only look at Brian and the stool he sat on and
the guitar he played.  He heard Brian's voice sing of angels or something
like that.  He melted in his seat, his finger twisting over the rim of his
cup while his mind drifted into that dream world Brian created with his
music.  Something like a dream within a dream he thought.  Everything just
flowed together.  The words, the lyrics, the voice, the notes.  It all went
together.  Brian strummed every chord of his heart with gentle fingers and
soft plucks.
		Maybe it was a little too cliché, but Justin could swear Brian was singing
his life.  The words were everything he was.  Everything he felt was there.
It was like Brian stood over Justin's shoulder while he struggled through
the pains of not really knowing his father or the times he could think of
nothing else but taking his own life because he never owned his own life.
It all belonged to cameras and directors and agents and his mother.  Brian
sung of innocence stolen away and Justin whimpered lowly.  Brian strummed
melodies of strangers falling in love and Justin had to lower his eyes and
think of anything but the way that gifted man told his story as if it was
all written in the sky for Brian to read.
		"I usually don't end my set with this song." Brian stated, his flickering
firefly blue eyes glancing upon Justin and Justin struggled to keep the
blood from rushing his cheeks.  He thought maybe he was the only one that
noticed.  After all, Britney hadn't mentioned Brian at all during his
performance and he hadn't caught any smart remarks from JC on the subject.
But maybe it was only meant for Justin.  Maybe, somewhere, an angel was
whispering sugary, exquisite words of kindness to Brian?  Justin doubted it,
but he didn't lose faith when Brian smiled again.  "But tonight, I think
it's just right that I do." Brian added before running his fingers over a
few strings, strumming forth a tune that was familiar to some but new to
others.

	Do you know where you're going to?
	Do you like the things that life is showing you?
	Where are you going to?
	Do you know?

		Justin didn't hold his breath or count to ten or pray for it all to stop.
He let it all haunt him.  The pictures came into focus and faded like
passing headlights.  His life.  His unhappiness all brought forth by one
song.  One song resurrected images of a mother passed out on the couch, a
tipped over glass of vodka speaking everything she should've spoken to him.
Rooms full of people telling him what to do, how to smile, how to dress, how
to breathe.  He could remember his hand just scribbling, never paying
attention to words or cautions.  His signature coated everything.  His
freedom stolen by flashes of light.  His tears shed for what he did not
have.  A family he never knew existed and they stayed shadowed by the
spotlight of the life he knew he was tired of living.  All the love,
kindness, joy he was owed was substituted by the thought of making it one
more day.  Just one more day and one more song spelling out all his misery.

	Do you get what you're hoping for?
	When you look behind you, there's no open door
	What are you hoping for?
	Do you know?

		To him, getting drunk was no answer.  It didn't numb anything.  It left
him a little disillusional sometimes, but it never drowned out memories or
thoughts or emotions.  Emotions were really his poison.  He let them seep
into his skin, drip through his blood, and leave him ill.  There was no
solution for it.  Maybe sleep or relaxation or or a nice conversation over
coffee or a good workout.  But never alcohol.  It just didn't work.  It
didn't do shit.
		He sat at the bar though.  He sipped water and watched others dance while
some sax player played an instrumental.  He didn't let his eyes catch JC and
Britney because they were making out in some corner and he wasn't
interested.  He was still hoping Lance would win her heart over.  Maybe
they'd get together and maybe Lance would move in, quick working for his
mother, and live a life he wanted to live.  But maybe nobody really ever led
the life they wanted to live?  Maybe he was the only person that really gave
a fuck?
		"If you smile, I'll buy your next drink." A soft, casual country voice
spoke into his ear and suddenly, he didn't have a reason to just stare into
his glass like a bottomless ocean waiting to swallow him.  His   He let
dewdrop-slick blue eyes raise and stare up at Brian with a friendly
expression written into them.  "I'm drinking water." he remarked and that
didn't stop Brian from sitting down on the stool next to him.  It didn't
stop Brian from puffing his cheeks out in a silly expression, letting his
wild blue eyes grow larger and his brow raise.  "Well, I guess that means
you're not gonna smile and I've just saved myself some money." Brian teased,
leaning forward on the bar.  Justin giggled and a smile broke the chains of
his pout.  He was gratified when Brian smiled back.
		Justin lifted his glass and watched Brian's image become bleary through
the clear liquid.  He only sipped the water, admiring the way Brian never
let his eyes stray.  He hoped Brian didn't think he was beautiful because
that's not what he wanted to be.  He wanted to be seen as just a guy.  Just
somebody, just Justin.  "I enjoyed your set." he said bleekly because he
didn't really want to contemplate Brian's mysterious thoughts about him.  He
circled his index finger around the rim of his glass and decided looking
into Brian's eyes might've been a bit too much for him.  He cleared his
throat and scratched the back of his head, small nails scrapping over baby
curls.  "I couldn't tell if you liked it.  When I was singing that last
song, you looked a little displeased or upset.  I thought maybe you thought
I sucke dor something." Brian said, laying his palm flat against the cool
surface of the bar.
		Justin was tempted to touch his hand, feel that tender skin and learn the
canvas of those fingers.  But he was ashamed.  He let his eyes find Brian's
and he didn't let them slide away.  He let his vision stay clear and he
configured his lips into anything but a pout.  "No.  No, no, no.  You were
great.  Phenomenal even." Justin quickly stated, his voice lifted.  He
caught the way Brian arched an eyebrow and wondered if maybe he sounded more
like a groupie rather than an intellectual critic.
		Brian just laughed.  He laughed and pushed his hand toward Justin's.
"Thanks.  I just thought maybe you just weren't feeling me." Brian giggled
out, tipping his head back, letting the light bathe his skin until it was
just the right tint of golden for Justin's eyes.  "Oh, I was feeling.  I was
really feeling you..." Justin gushed, but he spied the way Brian shot him a
curious look and he let his words just drift off into the foggy air.  "And I
was feeling your music." Justin added, but his voice was small and he
couldn't have been subtle about his discomfort.
		Brian snickered again and tapped his fingers along the beaten wood of the
bar.  He blinked his soft eyes when Justin sucked in his lower lip but
stayed smiley.  He was just different.  Happy, deprived of all that other
bullshit.  Nothing about him could be sad or upset or angry.  He just stayed
balanced in a world that seemed impossiblely robbed of the mere concept.
		"You know, to be honest, you're not really like any of the other actors
and musicians that walk around New York with their head up their butts.
You're kind of innocent and normal.  You don't have this air about you that
makes me want to avoid you." Brian remarked and Justin didn't know why, but
it was definitely one of the sweetest things he had heard in years.  He
tipped his glass and shook the contents around.  "I'm definitely far from
normal.  I'd say I'm one of the most..." Silenced.  A finger laid on his
lips and Justin was actually silenced.  It was funny.  No one had ever
stopped him from insulting himself.  In fact, he thought maybe his mother
encouraged it.  In her own, sad way, she just sat there, took a gulp of her
drink, and smiled when he said something negative about himself.
		"You're one of the best men I've met in a long time.  I might not really
know you, but from what I see, you have nothing about you that would make me
hate you." Brian stated in a firm, but hopelessly kind tone.  He let his
finger slip off of Justin's lips, barely tracing their velvet-like softness
before landing in his lap.  He smiled when Justin stayed quiet and let his
eyes roam around the club.  He glanced back at Justin after minutes and
laughed.  He had left the boy speechless, something he didn't think he was
capable of.  "Well, I do have a problem with the fact that you don't smile
all that much, but I'm sure you can work on that." Brian added, nudging
Justin's knee with his.
		Justin was clumsy.  Most days, he could be too graceful, but he usually
ended up doing something clumsy.  He was clumsy with his smiles.  He knew
it.  They were always crooked.  He wasn't sure how to correct that and he
didn't even try when Brian made that comment.  He just let it slide, let his
lips part and he bared his teeth.  His cheeks raised and he felt foolish but
Brian liked it.  And he liked Brian.  He knew it.  He felt it, breathed it,
and almost showed it.  But he wasn't that bold.
		He was bold enough to leave the club with Brian though.  He didn't know
why he didn't turn down the invitation but he was glad that he listened to
his heart for once.  He wished Britney would've said something, would've at
least offered to wlak with him when he told her.  He wished she would've
done more than just smiled at him., pinch his side, and pushed him toward
Brian.  And if JC would've just unwrap his slender arms from around her for
just a moment, he might've been able to steal her away and ask her for tips.
  She could've gave him some advice on what to do, how to approach Brian
about the way he felt, how to convince Brian that the night at the club was
really a date and it would be okay for them to have sex because when Brian
walked close with Justin down the lonesome streets of New York, Justin was
willing and ready to give away his virginity without any form of protest.
		He knew he wouldn't have to make that choice though.  He was pretty sure
Brian could feel the back of Justin's hand brush against his when they walk.
  And he was definitely attempting to flirt with Brian, just in a casual
way.  His words were complimentatve and endearing.  He brought up topics of
kissing techniques and parts of the body that were sensitive.  He always
blushed when he spoke of those, but he kept his eyes on Brian for a
reaction.  Nothing special he thought when seeing a simple smile, a bit
smaller then the ones he had seen earlier.  They talked of music and age
differences and what their future could hold.  Justin even spoke of his
aspirations as an actor, the dreams he had when he was little.  He didn't
speak of his disgust for the entertainment field though and he sensed even
Brian held a few things back.
		He even made sure the walk was slow and often close.  He wondered if Brian
was tempted to sling an arm around his shoulder and pull him closer?  But he
still wasn't sure.  Brian was distant at times and his baby blue eyes
wandered, but he never stopped smiling and giggling and letting his hand
leave a trail blaze of fire on Justin's whenever their hands encountered
each other.
		Justin felt a little more confident when Brian said, "Do you want to come
up?"  He didn't hesitate because he was afraid.  He was afraid if he
declined and listened to his heart instead of his head, he just might not
see Brian anymore.  He'd have a hell to live in without that man there.  He
wouldn't know if he could love him, touch him, understand him in a way only
his soul could.
		Justin followed Brian up the steps, watched the way that older man kept
looking back to see if Justin was there, a hopeless smile polished over
gingerly soft pink lips.  But Justin didn't really know if they were soft.
He imagined they were.  He imagined kissing them, sucking them, nipping
them, and he imagined what those lips could do if they were allowed to
explore dangerous surfaces of skin.  His eyes seemed to glance at the way
Brian's faded blue jeans clung to his legs, revealing hints of a nice ass
when he took large steps.  He found Brian's small hands comforting.  They
could hold him, touch him without hurting him.  Softness could wrap around
his cock and smooth it to orgasm.  Fingers that were as delicate as candle's
wax could slip through his petite curls and rub his calp until he felt
asleep.
		"We might have to be a little quiet when we go in." Brian said lowly to
Justin when they reached the door.  Justin stopped on the last step, hands
slipping into pockets and a bottom lip seeking refuge in his mouth.
"Roommate?" Justin questioned shyly, stength growing.  He let his his eyes
linger on Brian's, trying to part a smile for Brian.  Brian snickered
quietly, sliding a key into the lock while twisting the door open.  "Sorta."
he replied meekly before pushing the door fully open.  He stood there and
Justin stood still.  Brian's arm held the door open and Justin wasn't sure
whether he should walk in.  It was awkward.  He wouldn't be able to scream
Brian's name throughout the night but when he saw a small frown starting to
settle on Brian's lips, he decided groaning and whispering Brian's name over
and over until he went hoarse would be good enough for him.
		It was more than he thought it would be.  Brian didn't look like the artsy
type.  He didn't resemble JC in any way and he surely didn't have Britney's
wild taste in appearance.  The apartment, from what he could see, was
decorated a little more classically with a touch of modern appeal to it.
There were black and white photos of a father walking his child down a
ocean-soaked beach and a man resting under a tree with his head lifted to
the sky.  The lamps were something out of The Donna Reed Show while the
couches were vanilla and soft-looking.
		There was a desk, not a large one, but a simple one resting in the corner
with sheets of paper strewn about it.  The papers were filled with musical
notes and lyrics Justin was sure would melt his heart and seclude him to a
solitaire of desire for this man.  There were photos tapped to the wall
behind the cherrywood desk; photos of Brian, a blonde woman, and the two
together and then a picture of a lone Chihuahua.
		"You can have a seat on the couch." Brian said briskly, dropping his coat
on the chair at the desk as he passed.  "Thanks." Justin whispered and he
wondered if maybe Brian went to get a condom, though it was never said.  It
was never agreed upon that they would have sex or kiss or touch or even try
anything slightly physical.  Hell, Justin wasn't even sure if they were
mentally on the same page.
		"Do you want something to drink?  I don't have any alcohol but the orange
juice is pretty good." Brian asked when he reeentered the room, drying his
hands with a towel.  Justin hadn't even sat.  He stayed near the desk,
taking in the tranquillity of the apartment.  He thought maybe it was
because he didn't feel right.  Maybe he shouldn't be at Brian's apartment
ready and willing to give his body to a man that had the deepest of blue
eyes and the sweetest of smiles.
		He let his tongue lick across his lips, wiping away uncertainty for a
moment because he was anticipating something in Brian's eyes.  Maybe not
aggression, but something sort of want for him to be there.  And it
flickered.  He thought it did.  Sort of like the batting of a fairy's wings.
  It was there and then it wasn't.  "Not really thirsty.  But thank you."
Justin replied smoothly, thumbs hooking into the back of his jeans while his
hips arched forward and he dared to let a sexy pout coarse across his cherry
lips.
		He didn't worry too much when Brian nodded and smiled at him.  He wanted
to wink at Brian before he turned around to exit the room, but he lost
concentration when he heard something similiar to a female's voice speak.
It was soft and curled through the air, but it startled Justin.  It left him
puzzled and maybe seeing a woman in the picture with blonde hair meant a
little more than just a fan of Brian's music.
		He was curious.  Just a bit too interested.  He let his body lean toward
the kitchen, tried to peak inside and spot someone.  He did.  They noticed
him.  They laughed quieter while the blush overran his cheeks.  It wasn't
that he was embarassed, because he was.  It was seeing Brian laughing with
someone else, having those feelings rush over him earlier and now he was
staring at a dried-up well, knowing water couldn't possible exist.  He just
felt stupid.
		"I swear Brian, if I have to sit down and watch Charlie Brown with that
little boy one more time, I'm gonna go nuts." The woman spoke and Justin
raised his brow, trying not to look disappointed.  He was just trying to
look like Justin, especially when Brian strolled into the room again with
her following close behind.  She wasn't blonde.  She wasn't even the blonde
from the picture.  She was someone else, someone with black hair and
heart-steeling blue eyes.  She wore maroon lipstick and had a small Panda
bear tattooed on her upper arm.  Her build was nothing-short of perfect and
her smile was filled with too many drops of sunshine.  To Justin, she didn't
look too much like Brian's type, but what did he know?  He didn't even know
Brian had a girlfriend.
		"I think he has some weird obsession with it.  He makes me watch it at
least three times a day." Brian noted, still keeping his words directed to
the female pacing behind him.  "Yeah, well, I hope he doesn't expect to be
Snoopy for Halloween because that just ain't happenin' with me." she chidded
with a grin, laying manicured fingers on Brian's shoulder to give them a
quick rub.  Justin could've been disgusted, but he wasn't drunk so he had
complete control over his emotions.  Almost.  He did frown a little and shy
his eyes away from them as they stopped near the couch.  "I won't let him
torture you that much Amanda." Brian giggled out, easing away from her to
move in Justin's direction.
		Amanda.  A-man-da.  A man, duh.  Yeah, Justin laughed that time and he
felt curious eyes peering at him, leaving him restless in his spot.  "Oh,
Amanda, this is Justin Timberlake.  You know, as in the actor guy.  He came
to the club to hear me perform tonight and we got to talking." Brian said,
standing by Justin, near Justin as he introduced them.  No jealousy or envy.
  Not a hint of anger was sent in Justin's direction via Amanda.  She just
looked curious and interested.  "Oh, the actor.  The one you met at
Starbucks, right?" Amanda questioned, her milky-white arms crossing under
her breast while her body leaned with attitude.  Justin couldn't stop his
lower lip from retreating into his mouth and he couldn't stop his thoughts
from drifting.  Brian mentioned him?  Remembered him?  Spoke of him to
someone other than himself?  "He's the one." Brian sung out kind of softly,
kind of like he was slightly embarassed of a crush.  That was just not
possible.
		Justin started to lean toward Brian when he moved up some, pulling up a
piece of paper from his desk.  "Justin, Amanda's one of my neighbors and a
friend.  She's a singer down at the club on the nights I'm not there." Brian
mentioned, twisting his hips until he faced Justin.  Justin nodded
instinctively, giving Amanda quick and brief glances.  She wasn't a
girlfriend.  Just a friend and a singer.  Not a girlfriend though.  Justin
knew that was relief trying to curl across his lips and he silenced it
because Brian was looking at him and he was looking at any and everything
but Brian.  "I sing there when I'm not busy looking after our little guy."
Amanda noted and everything went hush.  Everything stopped and all the
rainbows Justin saw in the sky for he and Brian turned into long streaks of
paint dripping from the ceiling.
		"'Our'?" Justin choked out and he didn't know his hand was shaking until
he glanced down and saw it.  Their what?  Child?  Infant?  Offspring that
came from his sperm and her egg?  Their newborn son that was conceived
through sexual intercourse between his Brian and Brian's Amanda?
		"Actually, Brian's little guy.  I babysit him so much that I feel like
we're sharing the parenthood responsibilities." Amanda attached, shifting
fingers through her lengthy hair as she tossed it behind her shoulder.
Justin chewed on a small portion of his lower lip, his anxious blue eyes
timidly glancing at Brian.  He arched an eyebrow and left himself open.  He
was vulnerable and he wasn't quite sure if his feelings were readable, but
they were visible.  "You have a son?" Justin questioned, his voice still
slightly strangled.
		He thought this one time he could find something that didn't fit in the
category of Jenny Jones and Jerry Springer.  He hoped to find a
lifetime=type of romance.  Maybe he wasn't meant to find it with Brian, but
the eyes, the lips, the words said it in coded messages.  Something was
there that he knew couldn't have just existed because he wanted to hear it.
He wasn't flying in the skies because Peter Pan said so.  It was because
Brian said so, just not directly.
		"Come and see him." Brian insisted lowly, his fingers circling Justin's
wrist and fire started to blaze past Justin's thoughts once again.  He
thought maybe he should use his other than to push Brian's hand down so that
they held hands, touched each other freely like they should've the day they
met.  He doesn't though.  He lets Brian tug on his arm a little before he
follows Brian, dawdles behind him blindly into the kitchen and then down a
shadowy hall.  Amanda's following them and Justin knows.  He hears her
footsteps over the loud, aching rhythm of his heartbeat.
		When Brian stops, Justin stops, but his heart still rattles on.  He's
pretty sure Brian can feel it pulse through his skin, but Brian's too quiet
and lost to notice.  He nudges open a door and he pulls Justin forward until
Justin stands in front of him, Brian's other hand barely resting on his hip.
  Justin looks inside because Brian wants him to, but he struggles with
seeing much.  Tears are sticking to his eyelashes and he's afraid he'll cry
before he even looks upon the child that holds Brian's heart like he wants
to.
		Justin licked at his dry, parted lips and gripped his hands shut, his eyes
surveying the room until he found the child, the moon's sheepily glow
peeking through the blinds to coat the child in a heavenly shower of dim
light.  He had a purposely beautiful face and flushed cheeks.  His lips were
just a tinge darker than Justin's and his hair was almost curly at some
parts, a deep, dark blonde that left Justin to question if the mother had
darker hair that Brian seemed to have.  His little fingers were bawled into
a fist and his thin lips were parted, releasing small, tranquil breaths of
air.  He slept under a large flannel shirt, probably Brian's, with his head
barely fitted onto a large white pillow.  Yeah, that was Brian's bed.  And
with that undeniably cute nose, that was Brian's son.
		Justin found it hard to hate him.  He tried though.  He thought of how
this child and his mother had what he wanted, stole all of his dreams before
he even knew he was dreaming about Brian.  "His name is Colby." Brian
whispered into Justin's ear and that's all it took for Justin to realize
just how close Brian was to him.  He felt fingers slip and graze over his
skin before their knuckles touched and their fingers brushed each other.  He
kept his eyes on the child and wondered if he would make a good dad?  He
always thought so.  It was just in him.  He had a natural love for kids, a
natural desire to nurture a child and to know the love that a father
deserved.  He thought Brian was probably a good father, but then he thought
that Colby might have a good mother and his stomach twisted again.
		He almost pulled away from Brian, lmost didn't let Brian swipe his thumb
over Justin's knuckle.  "Isn't he the cutest?" Amanda sung out and Brian
laughed near Justin, his breath sending palpable suggestions to Justin's
psyche.  He was subconsciously motivated to stand there, to stay near Brian
just a little longer and toy with the chemicals of chemistry.  He loathed it
because he wanted it the most.  He wanted the subtle, quiet attention that
this man could give.  He desired to know that he was adored, and then if he
was adored, he was loved, instead of bored with just another false chance
with love again.
		Somewhere, Justin knew Amanda was imitating Sally Brown with her choice of
words.  He let Brian pull away just slightly to look at her and smile.  He
wondered who really was cuter.  Colby, Brian or Brian's shyness toward
interest?  "He definitely has something I can only see in his father."
Justin blurted out and he wanted to know when he became so feisty?  When did
he become a valiant patron for his heart?  Shit happens he supposed.
		"What's that?" Brian asked dumbly while Amanda threw a hand over her mouth
and stumbled over a chuckle.  She shook her head and Justin watched her from
the corner of his eyes, his compulsion find its own subtle way of fading,
leaving behind a few speckles of glittery dust.  "Ugh." Amanda groaned,
still trapped in some warped world of Charlie Brown.  She brushed past Brian
and pinched his elbow.  "I swear, your son has me reciting lines from those
movies now.  I'll see you later Brian." Amanda stated, moving slower as she
drew closer to Brian's ear.  "Secrets staying with me, Bri.  Don't lose
focus." she whispered and Justin caught bits and pieces of it.  He caught a
smile losing its way on Brian's lips and he wanted to run after Amanda and
question her.  He wanted to confront words that did not make sense and
Brian's sudden need to pull away from Justin.  "Let's go to the other room."
Brian insisted when they both heard the front door shut and Justin willingly
followed because he had a dependence on this man.  He had a n unexpected
desire to explore the twisted, dangerous routes his heart kept walking.
		Justin made himself comfortable this time.  He sat on the couch and he
stretched an arm around the back of it, Brian but centimeters from him with
a pleasant look of inspiration cuddled against his lips.  Justin thought
Brian would be the first to speak this time.  He was pretty sure of it
because Brian was the one that invited him to this room, to this apartment,
to this part of his world that Justin wanted to live in.  "How old is
Colby?" he asked because the silence was comforting, but it wasn't what he
wanted.  Not completely.  "He's almost two.  He'll be two in November."
Brian replied, almost scared with his words.  Justin let a hand creep from
his lap, slide over the cushion and rest just near Brian's leg.  Maybe if he
touched the seam, Brian would touch his wrist and Brian would touch their
lips together.  "So you had him when you were twenty-four?" Justin
questioned because he was pretty good with his math and rather thankful he
asked Brian's age earlier.  Brian just nodded and Justin wasn't stained with
distress when Brian rested his hand on top of Justin's, just holding it
there for a moment as if to test the surface and find out if the area was
safe.
		"Is his mother coming home soon?" Justin inquired and he wanted to take
the question back, but it wasn't in him.  He was curious about his own life
and to want to know something else from someone else didn't bother him.  It
was Brian's face, the mixed signals of depression and disinterest that
troubled him.  "Sure, she'll be here as soon as they move Hollywood to New
York." Brian responded sarcastically, a bitter smile thudding against his
pink lips.  Justin didn't laugh, but he offered Brian something resembling a
smile.  "She's not here?  Not here with her son?" Justin pondered as Brian's
hand drew back and rested on his thigh.  "She was barely here long enough to
give birth to him." Brian replied spitefully and Justin didn't hide the
discontent in his eyes.
		Brian sighed and leaned his head toward Justin.  "Her name's Leighanne.
She was a struggling actress when I met her and five years older than me.
We dated for about a year and a half.  We weren't sexually involved until
after, like, a year.  And then she got pregnant because we both thought we'd
get married eventually and stopped remembering the importance of birth
control and condoms." Brian explained with a slow rhythm.  He didn't care
when Justin trickled his fingers up his leg and found his hand, holding it
for comfort.  "When she got pregnant, I was thrilled and she felt trapped.
She had this desire to go to Los Angeles and continue her acting career.  We
argued all through her pregnancy and just grew apart until her final term of
pregnancy.  When she started to realize how real it was, she made me believe
that things would be all right.  When she gave birth to Colby, she said she
wanted to marry me.  When Colby was two months old, she said she was
leaving.  So, now, I raise Colby by myself and Leighanne is acting out in
California somewhere.  She visits on various occasions, but Colby doesn't
recognize her as his mother and she doesn't cling to him like a mother
would." Brian furthered, his eyes distant as he told a story that Justin
knew he didn't tell many.
		Justin didn't really comprehend why he did the things he did most times.
When he swiped his fingers over Brian's knuckles then traced the faint hair
on Brian's forearm, he was sure he was just in a lazy, drunken haze.  That
was it.  It just had to be it because comforting a guy wasn't like
comforting a girl.  When Britney cried, he held her.  When Lance cried that
one time from being overworked, he just patted Lance on the back.  But when
Wade cried, Justin held him, pet him, and assured him that he was the most
loveable thing on this planet.  Yet, Wade was gay.  And Brian wasn't gay.
Couldn't be, wouldn't be, shouldn't be, and unquestionably didn't show it
except Brian didn't pull away when Justin touched him and stayed within
kissing distance when they were near each other.
		"If it helps, from what I can tell, you're a pretty good father." Justin
noted, shifting his eyes to watch their skin melt together.  He didn't
really want Brian to notice the casual touches because he didn't really want
Brian to turn into a common straight man.  He just wanted Brian to stay
near, stay simple.  "Well, I think I'm doing pretty good as long as you
don't hold it against me that I still let Colby suck on a pacifier." Brian
joked.  Justin giggled that genuine laugh that tickled his nostrils and made
his brow crease.  His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were glaxed over with
joy because watching Brian smile back at him made everything feel like
water.
		Justin's fingers burn when he traces them up the seam of Brian's jeans.
Brian's busy smiling and laughing like he's drunk.  Justin's still not sure
though.  He's not sure he can be that bold and send signals so strong.  "So
do you ever get time to date?" Justin asks because the question is simple
and it had been burning in his throat since they began their walk hours ago.
		Brian stops the laughter but the curvy, dimple-filled grins never cease.
He sighs and slides fingers through the hair on the side of his head.
"Nope.  I don't really try though.  I guess some of these people just don't
catch my eye." Brian replied with a newborn-thick country accent.  He bats
beautiful eyes for a moment and folds his expression into a serious
appearance.  He's thinking and Justin can tell.  "But there's time where I
do wish I had someone.  I wish I could wake up to someone and tell them I
love them.  I wish someone was here with me, helping me raise Colby because
they wanted to and not becuase they felt like they had to just to be with
me.  That's why I don't date.  I don't have faith that anyone like that is
out there." Brian confessed, his voice dropping and his eyes softened by
pain.
		Justin has trembling fingers when he runs them over his curls.  He wants
to tell Brian how wrong he is.  He wants to just wrap his arms aorund Brian,
kiss the corner of his mouth and whisper to him how he can change Brian's
life.  Because they both need something.  They both need someone, but Justin
doesn't know if they both need each other.
		"Shouldn't give up until you're sure that there really isn't someone out
there that can fill that space Brian.  You never know where you might them
them, but trust me, that person is waiting on you too." Justin says so
poetically that he almost checks the tag on his shirt to make sure his name
isn't Emerson.  He smiles afterward because Brian has that light glowing in
his eyes, the one that sparkles brightness through shadows on a hot, sticky
summer night.  He's happy.  Justin. Is. Happy.  Seeing that hope refill
those glassy eyes makes him wonder if maybe Brian's thinking about him;
thinking of him to fill that void he's had for so long.
		Brian shifts over and his leg almost traps Justin's fingers under
tightened jeans.  Justin stays burried in the heat and flicks a tongue over
desperate lips.  "What about you Justin?  You're an actor.  Surely you must
have time for dating all those gorgeous Hollywood-types that I see on TV."
Brian remarks cheekily.  He's smiling but Justin just puckers a frown
becuase he knows what he does and doesn't have.  He knows what keeps him
warm at night.  Just that tingling feeling of just cumming in a clinched
fist and the thought of finding some guy to provide that kind of relief for
him.
		Justin curves his index finger over the top of his ear and looks unsure.
He doesn't laugh for Brian, but there's a small snicker because he has to
make it believeable.  "I don't date.  I don't go out with anyone because I
think I've grown tired of trying to fall in love with someone who never
seems to love me back.  I think I'm just so jaded by the entertainment
business that I can't picture myself with anyone else in Hollywood or with
someone who just doesn't see that all I want at night is that one person to
take away my tears and help me understand that all I need is love." Justin
admitted and now, he hated Brian.  He hated Brian for bringing out of him
what he hadn't been able to say to Britney or Wade or Lance or his mother or
himself.  He loathed Brian for sitting there with content eyes that showed
he was listening.  He hated that he wanted to kiss Brian so bad that tears
were beginning to sting his eyes once more and his bottom lip was starting
to shiver.
		Did a thumb just swipe across his lower lip, maybe just under it?  Justin
blinked the tears away and he dared to lift his eyes and find Brian smiling
at him with a halfhearted gleam in his eyes.  "Looks like we both try to
avoid dating but we both know that deep down we want someone." Brian said
with focused eyes and simple features.  No, they weren't simple features.
They were a cascading waterfall of thoughts that dripped through Justin's
mind constantly.  He dreaded watching that finger find its way back to
Brian's lap, resting away from Justin.
		"Maybe we'll find something with..." Justin couldn't get the words out.  A
simple calling, a voice beckoning for comfort.  "Papa.  Papa." The voice was
so innocent, so low.  Justin turned his head, he swallowed a sigh and he let
feelings of envy and anger disappear when Colby waddled into the room.  He
lowered his lids and let small slits of blue watch the child move
instinctively to his father, small hands rubbing away dashes of sleep over
his eyes.  His hair was a mess of dark blond strands, some straight, some
beginning to curl at the end.  He wore faded blue pyjamas with footies at
the bottom.  Justin bite back a giggle because he was pretty sure he had an
outfit just like that one when he was young.
		"Colby?  What are you doing up little man?" Brian asked automatically,
leaving Justin out of place between the father and son.  He smiled when
Brian lifted the toddler from the floor and into his lap, pressing Colby's
head to his chest with care.  Colby just stayed quiet, eyes wide and mouth
closed.  He was looking at Justin.  Justin knew it.  He felt it and he
blushed under the gaze.  Was the young boy already analyzing his father's
friends?
		Justin leaned forward because he was curious and he was interested and in
total awe of the child.  He smiled brialliantly and prayed Brian wasn't
watching him fiddle with his son.  "So you're Colby?" Justin asked, not
expecting any response from the child.  But he got one.  Small lips parted
and eyes widened with wonder.  "I can see why everyone has been making such
a fuss over you.  You're too cute for words." Justin added, tapping his
finger against the child's small nose.  There was a tight, sleepy giggle and
a smile followed.  Justin grinned back, baring his white teeth and letting
his lips spread as far as they could.  He took a tentative glance up and
found Brian in a daze, a cuddly-soft grin on his pink lips.  "Think he likes
me?" Justin asked, pulling back some.  "He only laughs at me and Amanda."
Brian confessed, his voice small and deepened with disbelief.  Justin takes
the compliment in stride, releasing Brian from his gaze to look back at
Colby.  He's still curious and Justin quickly sticks his tongue out at the
child, scrunching up his nose because he's too happy to see the child laugh
again.  And Justin thinks that's how he wants his son to laugh at him one
day.
		But, no.  No, not those thoughts.  Not thoughts of being a father,
especially not a father to Colby.  What would Justin have to offer the
child?  And why was Justin contemplating what he'd have to offer if he
didn't even know if he and Brian were anything more than strangers passing
in the night?
		Then again, why couldn't he flirt with the idea?  Brian could want
something more than just company from Justin.  He always had that gleam in
his eyes, though Justin could never tell an interested look from a friendly
one.  But that wouldn't stop him.  Not this time.  If he and Brian were more
than just two people getting to know each other, then Justin could have to
accept everything that came along with Brian, right?  And Colby came along
with Brian.  There was no one without the other.  Justin surely didn't mind,
though being a father before ever having sex with Brian wasn't something he
could get used to completely, but to have something of his own was something
he wanted more than anything.  Something to come home to, a reason to keep
smiling when things are a bit too unbearable.  Hell, Wade always said Justin
would be a family man before he would be happy.
		Justin watched brilliant blue eyes begin to droop and he finally resigned
to the corner of the couch.  "I think he's ready to hit the hay again."
Justin noted with a whisper, cautiously slipping his hand over Colby's silky
hair.  His hand danced past Colby's head and found Brian's arm, coiled
muscles flexing under taunt skin and cloth.  He let his hand linger and his
thoughts meander while Brian twisted his lips.  "I'm going to go put him
back down.  Please don't leave yet." Brian requested, pushing his body up
from the couch.  He only had to say the words once before Justin made up his
mind.  He wasn't going anywhere.  He wasn't going to leave because Brian
asked him not to.
		He wanted first place, but second didn't hurt a hell of a lot either.  It
was thrilling actually.  Sitting three, arms crossed, a cheeky grin and
star-gazing eyes made Justin feel like an honorary human being.  He didn't
let his eyes wander this time.  Why fuss over things that didn't matter?  A
picture of Brian with some long-haired guy, smiling at some club?  A beige
lamp?  A pacifier, one he hadn't noticed earlier, looking unsettled on the
table?  A U2 CD laying crooked near the couch?  None of it mattered.  Just
the patience that was laying in his soul.  Just the thought of knowing Brian
didn't want him to leave, not just yet.
		"Sorry about that.  He doesn't always sleep well unless I'm in there with
him." Brian stated when he made his appearance again and Justin didn't mind.
  He looked confident and he looked happy when Brian sat next to him again,
same position, same glorious closeness.  "It's understandable.  Sometimes
kids just need that warmth of their parent nearby." Justin remarked, his arm
sliding across the back of the couch.  Brian nodded, fumbled his tongue
across his lips and eyed Justin with an awkwardness that Justin let go
unnoticed.  "And sometimes we all want to be close to someone special to
us." Justin added, letting his body scoot closer to Brian.  Was that too
much confidence?  He thought so because there was a definite look of
uncertainty racing through Brian's cloudy blue eyes.  He sucked in his lower
lip and damn, he wanted to take back those words.  He wanted to run now
because he never looked good being cocky.  Just wasn't his style.  It worked
for JC, Wade, hell it could work for Britney, but not for Justin.
		Brian laughed lightly, leaning toward Justin with a wild look of valor.
"Usually, tomorrow night, I rent a movie and sit and watch it with Colby and
sometimes Amanda.  It's become like a tradition for us because it's the only
night me and Amanda don't sing at the club." Brian explained shortly, that
glimmer still sparkling bright.  He let his hand slide over the fabric of
the couch, over the texture, over Justin's knee.  "Why don'tcha come?  I'd
really like you to be there." Brian solicited, his eyes on his hand before
lifting to look at Justin.  His words just grew on Justin.  They were like
good company, something he just couldn't get rid of for days.  "But.. but it
sounds like a night for just the three of you." Justin replied foolishlessly
because he didn't want to sound too eager.  He didn't want Brian to know he
had woven golden strings of desire and trust inside of Justin.  "So?  I want
you there.  After tonight, I'm pretty sure Amanda and Colby want you there
too." Brian declared so freely.  Was he a bird?  He flew so gracefully like
the wind didn't even exist.  Justin liked that.  "And I want you there."
Brian reiterated, a comical smile located on his pink lips.
		Just enough.  Brian always gave Justin just enough to make a decision so
blindly.  He nodded and he giggled with embarassment and almost frowned when
Brian's hand retracted.  But Brian kept grinning like a fool.  "Then I'll be
there." Justin whispered, his body existing in its own time.  It moved like
a fuzzy pink cloud through an easy sunset.  It floated right to Brian, his
face mere inches away.  His lips weren't working at the time, not enough to
speak.  But they were working enough to pucker a little and his eyes were
beginning to drift shut.  He had focused on a rpize, a game he was about to
win.  Yeah, eventually, he was gonna get close enough.
		"Hey.. Justin.." Brian's voice came so soft, so very softly.  It touched
Justin, first the breath and then reality.  His eyes were sliding open like
a drunken man, but his lips just dangled near Brian's.  "I'm not gay." Brian
whispered, cautiouslly drawing back from Justin.
		Oh, they were magical.  They had to be just three favorite words.  He had
used them so much as a kid and then as a teenager.  He had become accustomed
to the meaning.  Well, the meaning he had created for them.  But he'd never
heard them used in this context.  Never when his lips were so close to a man
and he was right there, ready to fall in love at any given opportunity.
That some good black magic he had used on himself.  Cast a spell that told
him Brian was going to be the one.  He was determined to believe in all that
hocus pocus.
		And just three more words.  This time from Justin.  "I should go." he
said, his lips still right there, unmoving except for those words.  He
collected himself quick, like it was some scene from a real cheesy soap
opera.  All he had to do was follow the stage cue.  Quick exit, stage left.
		He stood with briskness but a hand caught his arm and he really didn't
want to go through that truly awkward moment where they just stood there
staring at each other and fumbled with words to explain their sides.  But
there he was, tears trying to block his vision of clear blue eyes.  "But
Justin, I'm..." Brian tried to speak but Justin just kept shaking his head
and was waiting for someone, some angels in heaven to scream "Cut!"  There
wasn't more than one dimension to this feeling.  It was just fucked up.
"No, I'm sorry Brian.  I really don't want talk about how big of an ass I am
right now, but I'm sorry.  I'm just gonna go." Justin said, his voice choked
by vulnerability and undeniable pain.  "No, no, you've got to wait." Brian
pleaded, giving Justin's arm a small tug.  "No, I'm going to go." Justin
restated, wrenching his arm from Brian's grasp.
		He didn't let the flood start immediately.  He used a shaky finger to wipe
away frustrated tears as he moved to the door.  "Please come over tomorrow.
Forget what just happened and come over.  I want you here." Brian pleaded as
Justin walked.  Justin grew stiffer, not ready to lease out his heart once
more.  He thought about it as his hand settled on the knob, twisting
painfully slow.  Could this man be anymore hurtful?  Stupid fuck.  "I'll
try." Justin replied without a whimper.  He was the stupid fuck.  He just
couldn't deny Brian his attention and he knew that was wrong.
		He really couldn't try, not if he wanted to.  It was close to six and it
was raining miserably outside.  He was in some abandoned dressing room,
probably one that some soap actor used at one point and time, but hadn't
been used in awhile.  He was trying not to cry when Wade applied tinges of
gloss to his lips and he wasn't taking any of Britney calls, no matter how
many times she hollered at Lance and he hollered at Justin for not accepting
her calls.  He was trying not to look at his mother because she was two more
Margaritas away from being drunk.  Complimentary wasa nothing but another
opportunity for her to show how adult she really was.  "I can't believe they
don;t have any hard shit in here." she complained sometime during the da and
he rolled his eyes because he had just done another screentest, this time
with that guy who played Sean Brady and the other guy who played Brady
Black.  He just didn't feel like being there.  He didn't feel like
auditioning for this stupid role on this fucking soap opera when he couldn't
have the man of his fucking dreams.  But that was just the anger talking.
		He heard his cell phone ring once more and sighed loudly, disturbing Wade
in his endless process to make Justin "beautiful."  "You're going to make me
bitch slap you." Wade huffed, using a dirty Kleenex to wipe away make-up
from Justin's lips.  Justin grumbled something under the tattered cloth,
smiling when it was pulled away.  "It's Britney." Lance gushed, holding one
hand over the receiver while pointing to the phone with his other hand.
Justin shook his head, ignoring that fraile frown on Wade's pouty lips.
		"Oh, answer a call from the little twit already.  She probably just wants
to talk about that stupid boy that didn't want you." Lynn gushed
dramatically, shaking her glass in the air like an angry alcohol.  Oh, that
was what she was.  "Hey, didn't you win an award for the lead role in Mommie
Dearest?" Wade asked sarcastically, swiping a line of gloss across Justin's
bottom lip.  He didn't fake a laugh, just chuckled lowly while applying more
shine to Justin's lips.  "Why you fucking, flamin' fa..." Words couldn't
make it past her lips.  Justin cleared his throat loudly and slammed his
hand across his chair, eyes narrowed to tiny slits.  "Say the word and
you'll be out of here." Justin hissed.  His mother rolled her eyes freely,
turning her nose up.  "Doesn't matter.  As soon as you get your role on Days
of Our Lives, we'll hire a professional make-up artist.  One that gets paid
more for her technique rather than her mouth." Lynn boasted snobbishly.
Justin often wondered if maybe his mother was made to be the actress in the
family.  After a few drinks, she could give Sally Field a run for her money.
  "Ooh, are you going to get the same people that take that lard out of your
ass and put it in your cheeks?" Wade asked chipperly, his sarcasm never
fading.  Yeah, this was going to be fun.
		He didn't want to talk to Britney because his mother was right.  They were
going to end up discussing Brian and what had occured last night.  They were
going to discuss the reasons Justin spent most of the night crying on their
couch and why he even let himself get that close to Brian.  Britney was
going to bring up some guy she knew from the city just to try to send Justin
right down the road he didn't want to walk anymore.  She was just going to
be his friend.  She was just going to be the other part of his heart that
was pretty much dead.
		He sure as hell didn't feel like doing one more trial run with Kirsten
Storms or watching Nick Carter, some upscale, gorgeous actor brag about his
past performances.  He was tired of watching some ass named Ashley Angel try
to woo everyone over with his smile and ocean-like eyes.  He just wanted the
day, the week, his life over with.  It would've been the easiest thing he
had in years.
		A thud, no, a knock came rattling at the door.  A heavy hand was trying to
drive Justin insane as he wiggled in his chair, decidedly tired of Wade
fiddling with his face and make-up.  "Someone should open the door." Justin
sighed, his fingernails skating over the wood of his chair.  "Oh, now you're
so big and bad that you need a doorman?" Lance joked with him, his hand
firmly planted on the door.  He was cheeky at times, a little funny but
Justin was finding it hard to laugh at anything but his own life.
		Justin scrubbed a hand through his small curls and kept his eyes lidded
when he saw one of the producers peek his head into the dressing room.  Time
for another close-up?  "We're ready for you Justin." the man said, so sublte
and so quick.  He was gone before Lance had the chance to twist the knob
again and Justin just sat there for a moment.  It was all worth?  Right?  At
the end of the day, this was going to complete a chapter?  It was going to
set the standards for another journey in his life?  Probably not and it was
questionable whether or not he would actually stand and leave the dressing
room.
		He turned his sullen eyes to Wade first and found one of those cocky grins
that Wade had customized just for him.  "You're a ten baby." Wade insisted
with his free-flowing feminine ways.  "I'm a one going on zero." Justin
exhaled out, pushing himself up from the chair with a loose smile.  He
caught the way Wade cut his eyes toward him and just smiled a little harder.
		"Do you think you three can conduct yourselves properly while I'm gone?"
Justin questioned, taking one final glimpse in the mirror though he knew it
didn't matter how he looked.  They were going to think he was beautiful.
They were going to awe and coo and make one big fucking deal because that's
just what they did.  "Who?  Me, Lance, and Annie Wilkes over there?" Wade
questioned, his head motioning toward Justin's mother and Justin got the
joke, swallowing a laugh.  "You'll be lucky if RuPaul survives the first
five minutes." Lynn hissed, crossing her legs while nursing her drink.  She
was such a drunk.  "Ooh, is this an ensemble cast?  Because if it is, I want
to be Garth Brooks." Lance cheered with a fake grin.  Justin just patted
Lance's shoulder and decided it was okay to laugh that time.  Lance could
really be funny when he wanted to be.
		If he could collect all of his memories, frame-by-frame, this memory
would've hit the cutting room floor.  He was told to wait because Kirsten
Storms was on an important phone call.  Of course, actress' first priority
had to be to themselves, right?  He didn't mind that much.  He just had to
stand outside, in the hall, dressed-up in cheap wardrobe with make-up
sticking to his face like glue.  He got to watch other actress and actors
pass, like Deidre Hall, who merely smiled at him and offered her autograph.
He declined, but smiled back.  That was customary.
		But the one frame, the one shot he would love to edit out and never
remember was standing with Nick Carter, cautiously glancing at him from
time-to-time because he was competition and that was what competitors did.
They threatened their opponents.  Nick wasn't threatened though.  He had a
gleam about it, a 'I'm cockier than my cock' look that left Justin with a
bad taste in his mouth.  His blonde hair was pulled back and cut and his
eyes were the right shade of blue; his lips the right form and his build
wasn't as perfect but it was good enough.  "You know that Ashley guy isn't
gonna get it.  He just doesn't have it." Nick snickered to him and Justin
was made they were the same height because that mean he really did hear
everything Nick said.  They were shoulder-to-shoulder, Nick's move, not his,
and Nick was being a little too chummy with him.  Justin never liked that
asshole.  He lost a part to him a few years ago and Justin still remembered
Nick patting him on the shoulder and saying, "Better luck next time rookie."
		"But I think you have a nice chance.  Not as good as me, but at least you
won't be cut out like that dude will." Nick added leaving Justin to twist
his lips and cross his arms.  Who was Nick to him?  So what if Nick had
dated that little diva Willa Ford and maybe he had good chances because one
of his friend, a short, Latino named Howie Dorough, had a part on the show.
That didn't mean Justin was qualified or wouldn't give it his all because he
had to remind himself when he woke up that morning that acting was something
he loved to do.  It was something he had been so good at for so many years?
Right?  There was probably cause for an argument there but he didn't bother.
		Justin scratched his petite beard and laughed lowly.  It was tradition.
"I'm just looking to give it my all.  If I get it, I get it." Justin laughed
out.  Yeah, that was it.  If he did, he did and he didn't, he didn't.  But
all of that was a lie.  He wanted the part.  He wanted to beat Nick and beat
Nick bad.  He wanted something to latch onto and give him a reason for
trying.  He wanted something to rid his mind of Brian.  He wanted Brian.
		He wanted to forget that Nick just said, "I'll gracefully bow out and let
you have the part if you come to my hotel tonight and let me fuck you all
night."  He swallowed something.  He thought it was spit but he was pretty
sure it was his humility.  His eyes lowered and he peered at Nick with a
look of death.  He wanted so bda to pretend those words were never said and
he was just trying to make Nick look like more of an asshole that he really
was.  Still, that smug, confident grin was licked across Nick's lips and he
had raised a hand to let it sit on Justin's forearm.  "I'm serious.  I don't
really need or want this job.  And you're hot and I'd love to cum inside of
you." Nick added, his voice so low, throaty, sexual that Justin felt his
stomach backflip and somersault all in one motion.
		That hand, those fingers burned as they moved up his arm, over the cloth
of his shirt.  He almost felt his body melt when Nick's hand touched his
shoulder and it wasn't that good, fuzzy feeling he liked.  Justin had heard
Nick sucked cock to get jobs before.  Well, he really heard it from some
actor named Joey Fatone who was mad that they gave Nick his role on some
low-rated WB series.  Sometimes, though, Justin thought it was true.  That
perfectly blonde hair was great to run fingers through, to grab when it was
time to cum.  Those lips probably kissed away drops of precum and that
tongue was probably a lethal weapon of its own.  He just looked like he
could suck some good cock, but Justin wasn't really thinking about it.  He
was thinking about the way Nick ran his fingers over his neck and the way
his breath was washing over Justin's skin.
		"Just one night.  It can be a don't ask, don't tell thing." Nick
whispered, his lips leaving a faint kiss on Justin's cheek.  Those curious
hands roamed upward until they drug through the curls on the back of
Justin's head.  Everything was blurring, fading together into one large blob
of blue before Justin's eyes.  Was he hot?  No, no erection.  But when
Nick's lips kissed against his cheek again, he shook.  Nick's tongue
slithered, hot and wet, against his skin and then pretty white teeth raked
against the flesh, leaving behind saliva and a dangerous promise.  A promise
that repulsed Justin, left him dirty and unpure.  Was he some simple fuck
for a job?  Did he even want to wake up every morning to go to this job?  Or
did he want to prove himself strong enough to overcome that silly part of
his heart that told him he was supposed to fall in love?  Supposed to kiss a
guy, love a guy, be with a guy and then desire him?  Could he really live in
that pretty glass house of virginity and ride his soapbox for another five
years?
		"I deep throat pretty good too." Nick added, smooth breaths of lust
bathing Justin's face as Nick's hand crumble the fabric of his shirt.  It
was hot, moving toward a destination, one Justin knew would speak its own
thoughts to Nick.  His own breathing had accelerated, elevated him to
another level of arousal.  He blinked his eyes, wrinkled his brow and his
nose was twitching.  "Come on Timberlake.  Skip this bullshit, let me have
my way with you and the part's yours.  Just one night could mean money,
recognition, and maybe even an Emmy." Nick noted, his nidex finger traveling
over the fly of Justin's jeans.  He was tredding over unknown territory and
Justin didn't know if he wanted it or just needed something other than his
life for a moment.  The question truly was what did Justin love about money?
		Drops of rain, light at times but heavy at their greatest glory, showered
a sullen mood over New York City.  They created a pallet of blue and gray
through the streets orange and yellow lights dancing their reflections
across the water's puddles.  Headlights tried to break through the heavy
waterfall cascading throughout the streets while horns gave the unison sound
of chaos.  But it was late, dark, deep in the steamy mood that was anchored
to the faces of the city.  The city was alive in coffee shops, small clubs,
and light parties within the center of the city.
		He was awakened only by the sound of a continuous thud, one that didn't
sound familiar or welcoming.  He was thankful that the thunder had faded in
some opera of rain drops.  He wore only pajama pants loosely tied at the
waist.  They were hanging off his hips and his feet created a silent echo on
the ground, sort of like the echo of rain drops in the air.  He enjoyed the
aroma of the air, not the scent that filled the dirty streets.  He sniffed
vanilla.  It was hanging onto his skin like fated beauty, something wanted
but inescapable.  His small, very blue eyes peered at the door because he
wasn't sure who it was.  It was late and the person he wanted to see never
made an appearance.
		His hand found its way to the doorknob and he thought to speak.  "Amanda,
I know he didn't make it and if you don't want to watch Colby for the night,
he can come back." he said, his country accent bleak against the dismay in
his tone.  He pulled the door open without thought and Amanda didn't look
like that.  She usually smiled, carried a way about her.  She was a woman.
He wasn't.
		His eyes stared for a second, disbelief fueling their actions.  Drops of
helpless rain seemed to drop from every fraction of this man's body and
clothes.  His curls were a little worn and his eyes were puffy, probably
from tears and not rain.  Yeah, they were tears because when Brian lifted
his hand to wipe away rain, he felt heat, fire from their essence.
"Justin?" he questioned lowly, his hand carelessly roaming over Justin's
damp shirt.  He listened to a faint sniffle, watched tears blink forth more
steamy tears and a bottom lip trembled so powerlessly.  His other hand
lifted, it gripped material and pulled, leading Justin inside.  Why
question?  Why wonder?  The one Brian wanted to see was there before him, no
matter how broken he was.  He was there and he was wet.
		Brian slipped one of his hands down, grabbing Justin's hand to hold it,
feel the moisture slide across his own palm as he clutched it to keep it
warm.  "What happened?  Why are you so soaked?" Brian asked, stepping nearer
to the lost man.  Justin's lips tried to move but they didn't do much for
his words.  He just looked around with fear wrinkled into his deep blue
eyes.  He could smell the vanilla, his eyes watching the small trail of
smoke floating away from the candle's tip.  The room was so straight, clean,
ridden of all things that resembled a child or a lonesome man.  He saw a
lone white rose laid across the table and he let his eyes look at Brian with
wonder.
		"What's going on?" Justin managed to ask.  He watched the smile smooth
across Brian's lips before feeling Brian lead him toward the couch.  "But
I'm wet." Justin stuttered out as Brian sat down.  "I don't care." Brian
insisted, tugging on Justin, pulling him down until they were close, legs
touching.  Drops of rain were still sliding down his cheeks, over his nose,
across his lips.  He didn't lick them away because they were bitter and
salty.  Everything was just a blur around him, everything except Brian.
Brian was a heavenly glow of light in the jagged picture.
		Brian's hand crept into the inside of Justin's thigh, gave it a small
squeeze while Brian leaned forward.  Brian leaned forward?  He was leaning
forward?  Closer.  Closer.  Closerclosercloser.  Justin knew he stopped
breathing when Brian's lips ran across his.  They were like feathers dancing
across Justin's lips for a second before pressure was applied, a tongue
rolled out for an instant and Justin didn't know that his lips could move so
skillfully when he was so distressed.  His tears cut through the downward
drizzle of old rain drops as Brian wipes it all away with a smooth brush of
his hand.
		Brian kissed the corner of Justin's mouth before drawing back, leaving
Justin breathless and unaware of his own existance.  Justin was numb.  He
shivered and felt a grin push through his puzzled expression.  "I thought
you weren't gay?" he inquired, dumbfounded to a new extreme.  Did he miss
some word or signal last night?  "I'm not gay Justin.  I have a son, you
know." Brian stated with a broad, sideways smirk.  Justin tilted his head
because he felt even dumber and really had no clue to what Brian was getting
at.  Wasn't Richard Gere this hard to understand in Pretty Woman?  "I'm
bisexual, Justin.  I've slept with women before.  That's how I got Colby."
Brian furthered his explaination, his hand rising up to Justin's shirt,
twisting fingers into its drenched material.  Justin sucked in his bottom
lip and he felt the need to pull away, question his own trust in the
situation.  "But being with you has made it hard to deny something inside of
me.  I asked Chris to never tell you, but I used to come in Starbucks during
the morning, just to see you.  I used to ask him about you all the time.
And then, when I finally met you, got to talk to you, saw you with my son.
It was just too real.  I know I saw something more than anyone else could.
I saw a man who needed someone to just love him and give him something to
live for and in you, I saw someone to love me like I've wanted to be loved.
To love my son like his own." Brian declared, tiny tears lining his eyelids.
  He tries to laugh through his happiness and uncertainty, but Justin sees
far beyond the mask.  Brian needs to know that it's right.  He needs to know
that he's just not babbling and that maybe Justin isn't too scared to admit
to himself and to Brian that this is what he's wanted all his life.
		Justin bends forward and kisses Brian because he wants to taste Brian's
tears and to taste those sugary lips once more.  He presses a hand to
Brian's cheek while the other grabs onto Brian's neck, pulling him deep into
the kiss.  One of Brian's hands slipped into his shirt and he didn't mind at
all.  It didn't repulse him or bring forth desparate feelings of lust.  It
just felt right.  "I hope it's not too soon to say I want to be with you so
damn bad." Justin said between small, petal-soft kisses.  He feels Brian
giggle against his lips and he too smiles.  "Not at all, Ju." Brian
whispered back, pulling Justin even closer to his body, ignoring how wet his
skin is from Justin.
		Justin rubbed his thumb over Brian's nose, laying short kisses across
Brian's cheek.  "So Colby's not here?" Justin asked, leaning back with small
flames of desire smoldering in his eyes.  Brian laughed, dragging fingers
over Justin's damp pants.  "I asked Amanda to keep him for the night because
I thought you were coming over like I asked yesterday.  I.. uhm, I set up
these candles and turned off the lights and had some music playing.  I
thought, earlier, I could tell you how I really felt in this real, sappy,
romantic way.  I tried to tell you last night but you rushed off." Brian
gushed innocently, finding Justin's hand to hold again.
		For some reason, Justin really wanted to pinch himself or at least look at
his skin and make sure it wasn't gray just like one of those old black and
white films.  Could God have truly listened to him all those nights he
pleaded for someone like this?  "You were trying to do something romantic?"
Justin inquired, his voice caught on the last word.  Was anyone like that
anymore?  "My mom says it's just in me.  I can't help it." Brian snickered,
his thumb running over the skin between Justin's thumb and forefinger.
Justin tittered along, blush circling his cheeks.  His shyness was beautiful
to Brian.
		Justin had to kiss the tip of Brian's nose, he had to let his lips drift
southward and suckle Brian's lower lip.  His fingers spread against Brian's
warm chest and his nose bumped into Brian's upper lip.  "Colby's not here?"
he questioned, already aware of the answer.  But he had to be sure.  He
kissed Brian's chin and licked at the pinkish lips.  "At.. Amanda's..."
Brian panted out, his own hand twisting in Justin's shirt, trying to rip it
away.  He wanted Justin and Justin felt his desire when his hand slipped
away from Brian's shirt and found his groin.  "All night?" Justin dared to
question, red, swollen lips seeking out the tender flesh of Brian's neck.
Brian moaned, one of those high-pitched moans that signalled Brian's
unsatisfied sexual appetite.  Justin wondered how long had it been since
another person brought Brian to an orgasm while his hand tried to pull down
his pajama pants.
		A hand ceased to move and lips pressed lightly against Justin's wrinkled
brow.  "Hey Ju... I have to ask you something." Brian whispered, his hands
drawing away from Justin's damp clothing.  Justin looked up with conent eyes
of concentration.  He gave Brian's pants another tug while poking out his
bottom lip.  "Would you mind if we didn't have sex tonight?" Brian
requested, his words so virginal that Justin had to gasp and yank his hands
away.  Didn't Brian want him?  "It's not that because I haven't had sex with
a guy that I don't want to have sex with you.  It's just that I'm pretty
much old-fashion and don't want to just have sex because we both feel so
strongly for each other.  I'd prefer give it some time and find out more
about us and our desire for each other." Brian clarified with sureness.  He
was good at reading Justin's thoughts, or at least his facial expressions.
		Justin eased back some, spreading his legs because even though he knew not
to further his advances on Brian, he had to give his erection room to beat.
"I'm a virgin." he blurted out, not because he thought it would help, but
because it felt right.  Brian inclined and Justin sucked his lower lip back
in.  "All the more reason to give it more time, darlin'." Brian grinned.
His lips found Justin's and Justin didn't fight it.  He wrapped his arms
under Brian's arms and around his back.  He pulled Brian on top of him and
let Brian instruct him.
		Kisses weren't meant to express the feeling of the moment, not the power
of angels.  But with Brian, kisses were enough to smolder passion raging
inside of Justin and to free his inhibitions.  His fingertips grazed across
the muscles of Brian's back and his right leg hooked around Brian's waist,
pulling him closer.  He felt Brian petting the small hairs on his chin and
listened to swallowed moans coming from Brian's mouth.  His tongue circled
Brian's, prodded it and eventually, his lips sucked on the slick appendage.
		Justin's skin was turned to gold when Brian pulled away pieces of
clothing.  Brian moved so expertly and so slowly.  It felt like hours before
Justin was down to his briefs, still laid across the couch with Brian on top
of him.  Brian's lips felt like fairies, sprinkling glittery dust across his
shoulder when Brian kissed him there.
		"Why did you come here tonight?" Brian asked, his lips lifting while his
tongue slipped upward.  Justin's skin tasted so fucking good.  He didn't
care that it still had remains of rain dried against it.  His light blue
eyes glared at Justin, watching that smile dim.  Justin turned his eyes away
and ducked his head.  "I wasn't going to come after last night, but today,
at my audition, a guy asked me to sleep with him for a part." Justin
confessed, a shiver rattling through his voice.  Brian craned his head and
frowned.  "I wouldn't do it.  I thought about it, thought about doing it
because I was so hurt that the guy I had been trying so hard to be with
turned me away." Justin said with a lowered voice.  He threaded fingers
through Brian's hair.  He was pouting because the thought of sleeping with
Nick Carter to forget Brian was pathetic.  "But I wouldn't do it.  I came
here because you were the closest thing to sanity I've had in years and I
thought if I couldn't have you as my boyfriend or my lover, I could at least
have you as my friend and my escape from all of this crazy shit." Justin
whispered, tears beginning to build in his eyes.  He did not want to cry
again.  He wanted to be strong.
		Brian's lips were softer this time when he kissed Justin and then they
kissed away Justin's tears.  "I am your boyfriend, Ju.  And I'll be your
lover and friend whenever you want to get away from all of the drama." Brian
stated, holding Justin's chin in his hand.  Justin nodded.  He was happy.
He kissed Brian back and rested in Brian's arms.  "I'm already away Brian."
Justin smiled, nuzzling his nose against Brian's.  He stayed there until
Brian grabbed his hand and helped him stand.  He followed Brian to the
bedroom and that night, he fell asleep in Brian's arms, all fears of never
finding what he craved dried away with the rain.
		A dreamy air of happiness created a cocoon around his body throughout the
night.  He knew he had to have smiled half the night, even in his sleep.
When his eyes blinked open in the morning, he was refreshed and dried and in
Brian's arms still.  Brian was kissing him.  Lips soft like velvet pressed
against his own dry lips.  Then they were on the corner of his mouth and his
cheek and his nose.  He swallowed a painful yawn and stretched as arms
coiled tighter around him.  He felt insecurity rest on his shoulder and he
pressed a hand to Brian's chest, lightly pushing him away.
		Brian slides a hand away from the curve of Justin's ass and blinks
confused stares at Justin.  He rubs a thumb over slightly parted lips and
tries to read Justin's thoughts through awkward blue eyes.  "You don't have
to let me stay here.  If you think it's better for me to leave and..." The
thumb rubbed over his lips again, hushing him this time.  "Don't say it.
You have to believe that I want to be with you." Brian insisted, scooting
closer to Justin.
		Justin stayed laying on his side, his head tilted back while admiring
Brian.  What could he say now?  He had to accept truth and he knew nothing
of it.  He only knew scripts, written words for him to speak when he was
supposed to.  When he was told to.  He didn't know how to express what was
inside of him because it was just an action, nothing he practiced often.
		"I'm your boyfriend?" Justin pondered lowly, finally lacing his fingers
through the hair on Brian's head.  He shuddered when Brian's leg skirted
between his, Brian's foot brushing over the back of Justin's left leg.
Justin forehead wrinkled and his eyes lowered in a pleasing way because
Brian's knee had just grazed across his crotch and Brian's hand was brushing
the hair on his forearm with a tenderness unheard of.  "You're mine.  You're
my other baby." Brian grinned, settling comfortably on the bed while Justin
pushed back his hair.  His hand skimmed over the warm skin of Justin's arm,
reaching for his shoulder and then his neck.  He enjoyed the feel of Justin,
the pleasure of learning a new canvas as enchanting as Justin's.
		Justin thinks maybe Brian's confidence is empowering.  He thinks so
because he's not thinking about anything but Brian and Colby now.  He's
Brian's other baby, the one that gets to kiss on the lips and rub against
and make love to.  He wants to be the one that does what Leighanne couldn't.
  He wants to be there for Colby because, yeah, he really likes Colby.  The
kid has an air about him, just like his father.
		Brian's hand is on his chest now, sprinkling arousing touches all over and
he's sure Brian can feel his erection throbbing somewhere in those briefs.
He wonders if Brian thinks about his size, not that Justin wants him too.
It's not that Justin wants Brian to notice his lengthy penis because Brian
said they should wait.  But he catches Brian's grin when one hand slides
over the taut muscles of Justin's stomach, a thumb running over the faint
hairs that led from Justin's navel to the inside of those now incredibly
tight briefs.  Brian's knee presses up, pressed against his balls and it's
helping Justin's cock lift and possibly scoot out of the side of his
underwear.  Justin moans, he has to this time.  He can't help it at all.  He
tilts his head back and accidentally tightens his grip on Brian's hair.  If
it was anyone else, he would hate for them to tease his cock, but Brian was
a good tease.  He was gentle and bad and sneaky.
		Justin's mouth breaks and he smiles on the inside when Brian pets his
chin.  He tilts his head forward and lips catch Brian's thumb, taking it in.
  His tongue rolls across the pad and then the nail.  Brian wrinkles his
face with pleasure and the sheets have to be wrinkling because they're
moving a little, pressing portions of body against the bed with force while
tangling limbs together.
		"Papa.  Papa." Colby cheers as the door to Brian's room rushes open and
Justin freezes, scared when he sees Brian son scamper into the room and
toward the bed.  Brian stays pliant and nice against his skin, easing up
some because their bellies are touching and their erections are beating
against each other.  Justin catches his breath, blushes when Colby tilts his
head to look at them.  "Hey Colbster." Brian grins, rolling away from
Justin.  He tangles his fingers with Justin and Justin looks down, under the
covers to see Brian holding his hand.  It's real.
		Brian uses his other hand to grab Colby under one arm and lifts him up
onto the bed.  Colby still looks at Justin with curiosity and Justin blushes
under the scrutiny.  "Amanda?" Brian calls out because he has to make sure
Colby isn't here alone.  "Cooking breakfast.  You and loverboy get dressed
so you can come eat." Amanda yells back and Justin can't get the crimson out
of his cheeks.
		Brian giggles and lets Colby rest between them with open eyes.  "Colby,
say hi to someone very special to me.  His name is Justin and he's gonna be
sharing this bed with you." Brian said, a hand rubbing across Colby's back.
Colby still glared at Justin and Justin felt self-conscious.  "J-J-Jus..."
Colby tried to say it, but couldn't.  Justin smiled.  "Call him Ju, buddy."
Brian advised, laughing at his son.  Colby giggled too.  "Ju." Colby chirped
and Justin let the laughter take over him.
		Justin eased forward and felt Colby's small hand rest on his cheek, trace
his sideburns and his ears.  "Ju." he says softly, exploring a face that
Justin hopes he learns well.  "That's right Colby.  Ju." Brian beams, edging
closer.  He presses a kiss to Justin's lips, tastes his lover's skin and
sweetness again.  Justin doesn't moan because Colby's there, but he hopes
that Colby finds something to do at Amanda's apartment that night because
he's sure he'd like Brian to explore his golden skin that night.  If not
through intercourse, through beautiful butterfly touches and hard,
spine-tingling rubbing.
		What did Justin like most about money?  Shit.  Nothing.  Nadda.  He liked
Brian, loved Brian and the money was just something that he could have to
use for Brian and for Colby.  He was a piece of something now.  He had a
place.  He had Brian and Colby and that life that only came to him in his
dreams.  He found his reason to smile and he just knew.  He learned it like
the words to his favorite songs.  Love and money never worked, but love and
Brian seemed to work just fine for Justin.


					THE END

*** Annoucement to Readers: I have to say thank you for the awards, the
compliments, the criticism, the talks, the advice, the endless love.  You've
given it to me for three years and without you, I'd be just another story on
Nifty that fell slowly to the bottom of the page.  With you, I've been able
to keep going and going.  Three years is a long time for one person to write,
especially for one set series that turned into two series and then a saga.
I am so grateful to everyone that was there along the way.  The series
Angel's Wings ended at Brian and Justin's second wedding anniversary.  I
think I've completed the series as far as I have the strength to go.  From
friends to lovers to husbands to fathers, I think I've brought Brian and
Justin on a fairly grand adventure and I hope the readers agree with me when
I say let's let history do the rest.  I am not going to say that I am
through writing about Brian and Justin or the life I built for them.  I'll
probably write a few short stories here and there about their life together
and their life with their children.  And I know I want to continue to write
stories like this, where I explore Brian and Justin's love at different
angles and continue to develop my writing, especially with developing
different personalities for the characters.  So it's not over, but it's
ended.  Get it?  I hope you do.  To everyone from Metra to Braxton to
Leprechaun to AJ to Manny to Daniel to CJ, Jay & Josh, Crystal, Ryan, Eddie,
Michael, Josh, Jim, Gretchen, Carrie, Annie, ANY read or author that has
EVER written me an e-mail, and especially David at Nifty, thank you all!
You've made this ride wild, cool, and oh so enjoyable.  Please, keep writing
me and let's try to keep the love between these two characters alive through
new and old memories.  Thank you and God bless ***