Date: Wed, 05 Feb 2003 22:23:40 -0500
From: Writer Boy <writerboy69@hotmail.com>
Subject: rebound - part 22

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

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

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

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

That said, we now continue.

***

I woke up before my alarm in the morning, as I usually did, but this
morning something had changed from the few mornings before it. When I woke
up today, I wasn't tangled in Justin, trying to pry his arms out from
around me. Feeling blindly across the bed, trying to clear the sleep from
my eyes, I realized that I was alone. Justin wasn't in the bed at all, and
when I looked up, he wasn't in the bedroom, either. The shower wasn't
running, and I didn't hear the television, so I got out of bed and pulled
on a t-shirt, padding into the loft in my boxers, curious and concerned. I
saw Justin over on the couches, sitting up with his legs pulled against his
chest, hugging his knees to himself, and I walked over.

"Justin?" I asked, not wanting to startle him. He hadn't noticed yet that I
was up, and the alarm wasn't supposed to go off for about a half hour.

He was barefoot, as he often was, wearing a plain white beater and a pair
of snap pants. I couldn't tell how long he'd been awake, but his face was
smooth, relaxed, and kind of thoughtful. When he saw me, he smiled, but it
wasn't a full Justin grin. It was a small, almost tired smile, and I
wondered if he was still upset from last night.  His eyes were wide,
watching me, and much brighter than the dark sky behind them in the
windows.  The city wasn't quite awake yet, but here we were, and I wondered
if I should sit by him or across from him. Justin must have recognized the
question, because he patted the couch seat next to him.

"Come sit by me?" he asked, looking at me as if he expected me to say no. I
settled in next to him, curling my feet under me as I leaned back on the
arm. I wasn't sure if I should be touching him, and he didn't seem sure,
either. "Good morning."

"Good morning," I said, waiting. Justin looked at me, his eyes ticking over
me, running up and down my face and arms, but then I saw them fill with
pain and he looked away.  "Justin?"

"I'm sorry," he said, looking back at me. "I, just, I've been thinking for
a while."

"What are you thinking about?" I asked, watching him. Was he thinking about
us breaking up, three days into our relationship? Was he thinking about the
things we'd said last night? Was he worried about flying out today, and
going back to his life and his friends, and everything else? My money was
on all of the above. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Do you still want to listen to me?" Justin asked. There wasn't any anger
in his tone, but it was sad. He sounded like he had at the aquarium,
staring into the penguin tank, detached and distracted.

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked. "Tell me what you're thinking about, baby. Tell
me how I can help."

"I'm thinking about me," he answered. "I just, sometimes I feel like I
don't know who I am."

"I know," I said, nodding. "I remember when we talked about that. It's
something that everyone goes through. We talked about that, about needing
to find out who you are."

"I know," he said. Justin shifted, turning toward me instead of staring off
into space like he had been. Hi hand slid off of his knee, and he stroked
the side of my face for a second with his knuckles, running the backs of
his fingers over it. "I don't want to be the person that I was last night."

I took his hand, holding it, but not tightly, so that he could remove it if
he wanted to. I rested it gently on my lap, clasped in both of mine, but
neither of us was looking at it. I only had eyes for Justin, and he was
staring just as deeply into mine.

"Justin, you were upset," I began, wanting to make him feel better a
little.  I wasn't sure I felt comfortable making excuses for him, but I
didn't want him to be this hurt. I didn't like to see him like this, so
dejected and down. Every time I did I wanted to scoop him up and just hold
onto him until he felt better.

"No," he said, squeezing my hand. "Last night I was out of control. I was
pissed at Chris, and scared about you, and I wasn't thinking. I hurt you,
and I don't want to think about it.  Did you look at your arm this morning?
Because I did. I woke up this morning and I wanted to hold you, and I saw
your arm. I did that. I did that, Chris. Do you know how that makes me
feel?"

My arm, where Justin had grabbed it last night when we were arguing, had a
couple of small, dark bruises on it, just below the shoulder. If you looked
at them, you might not be sure where they came from, unless you held
Justin's hand to them. They matched his fingers, more or less. I had only
looked at them for a second, not wanting to dwell on it, pushing away the
thoughts I'd had last night, but it hadn't occurred to me that Justin would
have looked at them, too.

"No, I don't," I answered, shaking my head. I didn't want it to come out
the wrong way, but I also wanted to be honest. "I've never hurt someone
like that, by accident or on purpose."

"Neither have I!" Justin said, shaking his head. "I've never hurt anyone
like that, but I just, I wasn't thinking. I wanted you to listen to me, and
I grabbed you without even thinking about it. I looked at your arm this
morning, and I just wanted to die. I looked at it this morning, and every
time I do I remember the way your face looked last night when you told me
that I was hurting you. I remember the way your eyes looked, and the way
you pulled away, and I didn't even think about it then. I was so upset, and
so focused on myself, that I didn't even think about the way you felt."

"Yeah, but you only got that upset because I was blocking you out," I said,
shaking my head. "We talked about this last night, about both of us being
scared. I thought we covered what was wrong, and why we got in a fight."

"We did," Justin said, looking earnestly at me. "We talked about why we got
in a fight, but that doesn't make what I did ok. That doesn't mean it was
ok for me to grab you like that, or to hurt you the other way, either."

"The other way?" I asked.

"What I made you say," he answered. "I had no right to do that, to hurt you
like that. You haven't lied to me, not once. You told me that you care
about me, and that you wanted to be together, and I said I was fine with
that. I knew you weren't ready, and that you're struggling with this, with
us, and I had no right to question you like that.  It makes it sound like
you don't really care about me, and I know that's not true."

I shook my head, reaching out to touch his face the way he had mine
earlier.

"Justin, you always have the right to question how I feel," I said, making
sure he was looking at me. "It's part of a good relationship to be able to
talk about this. Neither one of us should do what we did last night,
letting things build up like that. What I said last night was true, and
you're right, that is something I'm struggling with. I'm not going to just
get over it in a week. What you just said isn't true, though. If you're
unsure of where things stand between us, you have every right to ask about
it. We can't let ourselves get like that again."

"No, we can't," Justin agreed, reaching out for me. He wrapped his arms
around me, pulling me tightly against him, and I held him as well, my face
against his warm shoulder. The cross tattoo rubbed against my cheek, and I
could feel him trembling. "I don't have the right to hurt you, though. I
don't ever have the right to do that. I'm sorry, Chris, I'm so sorry. I
didn't mean it. I didn't mean to do it at all, and I'm so sorry I did it.
Please believe that. Please, please believe that I'm sorry."

Justin was crying a little, hot, salty tears that fell onto my neck as he
held me tightly. I knew he hadn't done it on purpose, and I knew he would
never do it again.  I'd known that last night when I let him get into the
bed with me. If I felt unsafe with Justin in any way I wouldn't still be
with him, but I knew he hadn't done it deliberately.  There wasn't anything
to forgive, but if he needed me to say it, I would.

"I know you're sorry, Justin," I said, rubbing his back. "I know you didn't
mean it. It's just a bruise, and it'll go away. I know that you love me too
much to hurt me on purpose.  It was just a bad accident, Justin, like your
hand, and I think we should forget about it."

"No," he said, pulling his head away. He'd already stopped crying, but his
cheeks were still wet. "No, it wasn't an accident like my hand. I did this
to you, and even if you forgive me, it's still something I need to think
about. You were right last night, even if you only said it out loud because
you were mad. Last night I was being really selfish, and I was doing all
those things Chris told you I would do. I've been thinking about it all
morning, and I told you, I don't want to be that kind of person. I don't
want to be like that, and that's something I need to think about."

"We both need to do a lot of thinking," I said, nodding. "I'm sure of
something, though, and that's how much I care about you. I still want to be
your boyfriend, Justin, and I still want to come with you if you want me
to."

"Of course I do," he said, without hesitating, hugging me tightly again. "I
was so scared when I woke up this morning that you wouldn't want me
anymore, that you wouldn't want to be with me, and it would be my fault. It
would be because of what I did, and I would deserve it. I would completely
deserve it."

"No, you wouldn't," I said, wishing he would stop beating himself up.

"Yes," Justin said. "Please, no more arguing. I don't want to argue ever
again."

"Hold it," I said, my head still on his shoulder. "Haven't we had this
discussion? We're going to argue, Justin. It's natural."

"But not like last night," he said, his voice tight.

"No, not like last night," I agreed. "I think we need a rule, though. No
going to bed angry anymore. Even if we're dead tired we need to talk about
whatever's bothering us, so that we don't have another night like that."

"I think that's a good rule," he answered, still crushing me to his chest.
"Can I keep holding you? Please?"

"Of course you can," I said, relaxing into him.

Justin leaned back into the couch a little, pulling me back with him,
keeping my head on his firm, smooth chest. The beater was thin enough that
I could still feel his warmth under my cheek, and up by my temple his bare
chest was touching me, his skin soft like velvet.  He was running a hand
through my hair, over and over, almost like he was petting me, and I let
him, closing my eyes and slumping against him. If he wanted to cuddle for a
while, I was more than up for that. We stayed that way, and I even started
to drowse a little, getting that lazy nodding off feeling, until the alarm
clock sounded in the bedroom, startling me.

I stretched, feeling Justin's hands trail over me as I pulled away from
him, caressing, but not tugging. I smiled at him, and he gave me that half
smile again, but his face still had that serious, contemplative look.

"I'm gonna go shower," I said, still holding his hands. "You wanna come?"

"Go on ahead without me," Justin said, curling his knees up to his chest
again. "Tell Michelle I'll be down in a little while?"

"Sure," I said, chewing my bottom lip. "You ok?"

"Yeah," he answered, smiling at me to reassure me. It looked fake, but I
appreciated the effort. "I just want to think for a while, ok?"

"Sure," I said. If he needed time alone, I could give him that. "Come down
when you're ready, or don't come down at all. I can call you when Chris
comes, if you want."

"No, I'll come down," he said, shaking his head. He looked up at me. "I
love you."

"I know, baby," I said, nodding my head. I leaned down and kissed him on
the forehead, almost whispering. "I know."

When I got out of the shower Justin was still curled up on the couch, but
he smiled at me when I walked to the bedroom, so I went ahead and got
dressed. I was worried about him, still, but didn't know what else I should
be doing. I had offered him company, had kissed him, and had listened to
him. I'd held him and tried my best to make him feel better, and I had to
wonder if maybe there wasn't anything else I could do. I fell into moods
that no one else could get me out of, and maybe Justin did, too. Other than
letting him know that I wasn't upset about last night, and that I still
wanted to be with him, I couldn't think of anything else to do.

"Justin, I'm going down now," I said, walking over to him. I knelt in front
of him, and he looked at me uncertainly. "Look, I don't know if I'm doing
this wrong, or what, but is there anything I should be doing for you? Is
there something else you want me to say, or something I should do? Do you
want me to stay here with you, or leave you alone, or what? I don't like to
see you like this."

"No, you're being a good boyfriend," Justin said, leaning forward. He
kissed me on the cheek. "I get like this sometimes, like you do, and I just
need to think things out. I know everything is ok with me and you, but I'm
not ok. I need to think about what I did, and some other stuff. I'll be
down soon, I promise."

"Like I said before, don't come down if you don't want to," I said, leaning
forward. I pecked him on the lips, meaning for it to be quick, but one of
his hands took the side of my face, holding me to him. His tongue pushed
into my mouth for a second, dipping in and out, and then he let me go.

I drifted down the stairs with a dizzy grin on my face, feeling like my
head was full of helium and my feet were barely touching the
floor. Whatever Justin was thinking about, he still cared about me, and he
was right. He was being just like me, and we'd learned last night that it
wasn't good to push someone who wanted time to think.  When I walked into
the store, picking up the papers from the back and wheeling them in with
me, Michelle wasn't there yet, which was extremely uncharacteristic of
her. I filled the newspaper area, and started putting the chairs down,
wondering if I should overstep my bounds and switch on the coffee machines,
but then she came bursting in, decked out in her usual head to toe black. I
noted a large black bag, which was not at all usual, but she pushed it
under the cafe counter before I could get a really good look at it.

"Justin's coming down today, right?" she asked, her eyes darting around the
store as she turned on the machines and began putting the Danish in the
case.

"Good morning to you, too," I said, smirking.

"Yeah, yeah, good morning," Michelle said, flapping her hand. "Is your boy
toy coming down today before you guys leave or not?"

"Yeah," I answered, still running through the morning chores. "Why? And
he's not my boy toy."

"Of course not," Michelle snickered, rolling her eyes. "I just want to make
sure I get a chance to tell him goodbye."

"You will," I said, shrugging.

We went about the rest of our business, opening up the store and welcoming
our regular customers. Julie came in for the morning shift at about the
same time that Justin finally came downstairs. He walked past me, running
his hand quickly down my arm as he smiled at me, but he seemed a little
restrained, and I wondered if he was remembering what Chris had said about
us not being restrained in the store. I didn't want to cause any more
problems on that front, so I let him set that boundary. Once the two of
them arrived for work, I joined Michelle behind the counter and began going
over paperwork with her, trying to convince myself that she really would be
ok. I knew it in my head, but not in my heart.

"Chris, you're killing me," Michelle said, holding her head in her hands.
"We've been all over this."

I was about to reiterate that this was all important, and that I would feel
a lot better if we went over it one more time, but Meg breezing in the
front door distracted me.

"Meg?" I asked, blinking.

"Good morning," she said, her eyes cutting to Michelle. Meg was all decked
out in her preppy schoolgirl best, all Gap and plaids and cute little
sweaters, and something was throwing her a little but she was covering it
well. She peeled off her jacket as she kept going straight through to the
storeroom.

"What are you doing?" I asked. Julie and Michelle were already here.

"I'm here for my shift," Meg called from the back. Michelle rolled her eyes
and followed Meg into the storeroom as I hastily gathered up my
papers. They were conducting a conversation in short, hissing whispers, and
broke it off immediately when I stepped into the doorway.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Nothing," they both answered in unison, looking guiltily at each other.

"Guys," I began, but then the door in the back opened, and Pete came
bursting in, unbuttoning his pea coat and jerking to a complete stop when
he saw the three of us standing there. "Pete? What the hell?"

"Uh," Pete said, his eyes darting around. I loved him to death, but Pete
wasn't always quick on his feet. "Isn't it time for my shift?"

"Aw, shit," Meg said, snickering.

Michelle tugged at my sleeve.

"Chris, can I see you in your office for a second?" she said, glaring at
the other two.

"Yeah, definitely," I said. What the hell was going on around here? Why was
everyone in the store, and why did they all think they were on shift? As we
walked over to my office I saw that Julie had pulled Justin off to the
side, by the register, to talk about the treatment of women in Nsync's
lyrics. Justin was arguing very passionately that no disrespect was
intended, and Julie was arguing just as much that "Digital Getdown" was
demeaning to everyone, not just women. I whispered to Michelle. "She had
all week and she starts this now? We're leaving in a couple hours."

"You are so blind sometimes," Michelle said, rolling her eyes again. The
thick black outline around them emphasized the effect, and I was about to
make an anti-Goth girl crack when she pushed me into my office and shut the
door. Her tone was light, but exasperated. "What is wrong with you?"

"Me? What the hell is going on around here?" I asked, gesturing toward the
door. I almost put her eye out with my fingertip, since the narrow confines
of my office made gesturing somewhat difficult. "I leave you in charge, and
on your first day everyone, every single employee we have, shows up for a
shift at the same time? Who did the schedule?"

"Were you always this dense, or is it new?" she asked, laughing. I was
about to protest, but couldn't understand what she was laughing at.

"What?" I asked, which only made her laugh harder. "What are you laughing
at?"

"You," she answered. "Oh, this is good. Here, Chris, let me draw you a
picture, ok, and maybe then you'll get it. You're leaving today, and you're
taking Justin with you. We like both of you, and we'll miss both of you."

"Oh, shit," I said, slapping my forehead with my hand. She was right. I was
incredibly dense.

"Yeah," Michelle said, nodding her head. "Going away party,
dumbass. Julie's keeping him distracted while Meg and Pete smuggle in the
cake through the back door.  I was supposed to distract you, so when we
walk out of here in two more minutes, pretend to act really surprised, ok?"

"Yeah, I can do that," I said, nodding. "I'm going to miss you guys."

Michelle looked at me solemnly.

"And we're really going to miss Justin," she said, nodding. I waited. "And
we're really glad he's taking you with him."

"You total bitch," I said, shaking my head. "How much longer do we have to
sit in here?"

"One more minute," she said, checking her watch. We waited, me drumming my
finger on the desktop and her looking at me and snickering, until she
opened the door. "Hey, Justin!"

"Yeah?" Justin called from upstairs, where he was helping someone find a
book.

"Finish that up and come down here," Meg said, lighting the candles on a
sheet cake that she'd set out on the cafe counter. I wasn't sure why we had
candles, since it wasn't a birthday, but it looked cute, nonetheless, and
Justin's eyes lit up when he walked down the stairs.

"Guys?" Justin asked, looking around. A flashbulb burst in his face as
Julie held up the camera, and like a true professional celebrity Justin
nodded almost unconsciously toward it, not blinking. "Is it someone's
birthday?"

Julie, Meg, and Pete were all standing behind the cake, and Michelle and I
drifted in from the side as Justin walked over. The customers, our usual
crew of regulars for the most part, just took it in stride and kept
shopping or reading and sipping their coffee, but they were also watching,
and the cake was big enough to share with them.

"There's not really a bon voyage song," Michelle said, shrugging, as she
held up a big knife, "so hurry up and come blow out your candles."

Justin smiled as he leaned over the cake. It was a nice, grocery store
sheet cake, plain white frosting with a little piped in border. In the
middle was a cute little cartoon of two smiling people, a little blond guy
and a little redhead, standing on top of a little jet plane.  In front of
the plane was a little drawing of Florida, and behind it was a drawing of
Massachusetts. I recognized it as the same kind of doodling that Pete did
from time to time on stray napkins and slips of paper, and I smiled. He
must have been piping this on top of the cake for a couple of hours. A
banner across the top of the drawing read, "Bon Voyage Chris and Justin!"
and one at the bottom read, "We'll Miss You!"

Justin blew out the candles as everyone clapped, and then Michelle looked
back and forth between the two of us as she held up the knife.

"You know, we better let Chris take this one," she said, smirking.

"Hey!" Justin said, blushing. "One little accident, and they never let you
forget it."

"They're like that," I said, nodding for him to come stand by me while I
cut the cake.

"Yeah, that's us," Julie said, snapping another picture.

"Rotten to the core," Meg said, giggling.

Pete stood at my side with little plates and plastic forks, and I deposited
each piece of cake on one as he handed them out to the people in the
store. Meg had tied some balloons to the sides of the counter, and had
these little party hats that none of us felt like putting on, but overall
it was just a nice, cute little gesture. I knew that they liked Justin, but
they seemed just as sad to see him go as they did me, and he promised
repeatedly that he would be back, and that he'd miss all of them,
too. Julie asked one of the customers to take a picture of us, and we lined
up in front of the counter, Justin and I standing in the middle and the
others standing on either side of us, all of us grinning and holding up our
cake.

"I can't believe you guys did this for me," Justin said, eating a third
piece of cake. That much sugar was probably going to have him bouncing off
of the walls.

"Hey, half of this party is for me, too," I said, elbowing him in the ribs.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "Can I see you
for a second?"

"Sure," I said, concerned. I followed Justin into the storeroom. In the
very back, by the door, all of our suitcases were lined up and ready to go,
and Justin sat down on top of the stack of his as he took my
hands. "Everything ok?"

"Yeah, oh, everything's fine," he said, smiling. "I just wanted to um, see
you for a second, while we have a quiet minute, you know, before Chris gets
here."

"What's up?" I asked. He was still bright and perky from the party, smiling
and laughing, so I wasn't too worried that he was going to burst out with
some last minute horrible revelation.

"I just wanted to say thank you," Justin said, swallowing. "I mean, I know
that there's you and me, now, and I probably don't have to thank you for
that, but I wanted to say thank you for, um, for the beginning. I wanted to
thank you for still hanging out with me after I made what has to be the
shittiest first impression ever, and for still taking me around to do
stuff. That thing with you and Pete at the hotel, that was amazing. I
wanted to say thank you for listening to me, even before we were friends,
and for pretending not to think I was a whiny spoiled brat even when you
still thought it was true."

"Justin, you don't have to thank me for that," I said, pulling him up. We
stood face to face. "I didn't mind, and I never thought you were a whiny
spoiled brat."

"That's a complete lie," he said, smiling down at me. His whole face glowed
when he smiled.

"Yeah, it is," I said, shrugging. Justin leaned in and pressed his mouth to
mine, tilting my head back, and it wasn't that quick little kiss we'd had
this morning.  Justin's tongue snaked its way into my mouth, pressing
against mine, sliding over everything like he was exploring me, and I
realized that he tasted faintly of cake and frosting, but I probably did,
too.

"I mean it," he said, pulling back, leaving me feeling empty. "Even if it
hadn't happened between you and me, this is what I needed. Coming here,
hanging out with your friends, this was the best place I could have been,
and you guys were the best people I could have been with. Thank you for
letting me come here."

"You're welcome," I said, hugging him again. Meg leaned in, tapping at the
door with her fist.

"Guys, if you're done having your moment, we need Justin," she said,
nodding back toward the store. The three of us walked out of the room to
find Michelle, Pete, and Julie standing with a large box with a bow on top.

"We, um, we all got you something," Pete said, pointing at the box.

"Because we'll miss you," Michelle said, holding it out.

"And we even used non-recycled wrapping paper," Julie said, frowning, while
all the rest of us snickered.

Justin took the box, his hands shaking a little, and carefully unwrapped
it.  His eyes watered a little when he opened it up and found a Beans and
Books hat and a matching apron, with his name embroidered on the top.

"God, you guys," he whispered, looking at it. "Thank you. I mean it. Thanks
for, um, for everything."

Michelle hugged him, and then Pete. Julie gave him a big hug, and a quick
little kiss on the cheek, and then I saw his eyes bulge when Meg squeezed
his ass in the middle of her hug.

"Hey!" I said, smirking, as she pulled away, holding up her hands.

"I touched Justin Timberlake's ass!" Meg cheered, dancing around in a
little circle as Justin blushed bright red. Of course Chris picked this
precise moment to walk in, glaring at everyone.

"What the hell is this?" he asked, eyes narrowing as he looked at Justin
and I.

"Going away party," Michelle answered, as all of them fell in around us,
gathering protectively. They'd miss Justin, but wow would Chris always be
unwelcome.

"The car's out back," Chris said, ignoring her. "Is all your stuff ready?"

"Yeah," I answered, feeling all the warmth drain out of the room.

"Good," he said, pointing toward the storeroom. "Let's go."

***

To be continued.