True Romance
by Rhys

I need love, you need love
We all really need love

~..~

Chris didn’t like being in love. It didn’t fit in with his cynical world view, and it wasn’t fair to anybody he hooked up with to give them false hope that he could change and actually enjoy it. He probably could, if he tried, but he didn’t particularly want to. He didn’t like being in love because it made him feel like he was wrong or a freak or something. However, it didn’t mean Chris didn’t need it. Love.

So Chris woke up exactly six months after his thirtieth birthday and decided it was time to try again. He was nothing if not incredibly self-destructive. He drank too much, smoked too much weed and slept with too many groupies. He didn’t work out, and his mid-age paunch was well on the way to perfection. Not a beer belly, really, just a layer of fat that he didn’t feel like starving off. It was a good place to rest his drinks, and it kept him warm. He also sabotaged his own good looks, or so everybody seemed to say. The beard horns weren’t in any way cool, but Chris liked them due to their quirk value alone.

Chris felt he was an acquired taste, like Guinness or liverwurst. Most people didn’t dig him, but those who did, could stomach him easily. The trick was to find those select few who saw Chris for who he was. Also, he was an animal in bed, which wasn’t something he advertised, but offered as a perk only after the best and the brightest got as far to agree to give him a chance.

“Chris, you are a star,” Chris told himself, as he stood in front of the mirror, fresh out of the shower and dripping wet. He liked what he saw, and it was only after years of trying that he was able to say that. Attractive enough that people noticed him, regardless of the money, but not handsome enough to get swarmed with women looking to breed him. Chris was the type of guy who relied on personality.

Chris tastes were wide and varied, which worked better for him. Dani and Michelle were polar opposites, both hot but in wildly different ways. Dani was busty and blonde, and she liked hockey, which was really the quickest way to his heart. Michelle was lean and lithe, and she was a hellion with the Playstation, which was another good way of getting close. So, really, Chris didn’t have a type, particularly. He liked people who liked him, and who liked his mom, too. Chris was the type of guy who would dump a girl if his mom didn’t like her, because mother knows best, whether he wanted to admit it or not, but he wasn’t a mama’s boy, no way.

Chris flicked on the television as he dried his hair with a towel, sitting down naked on the edge of his unmade bed. On the screen, two soap stars were confessing their deepest love for each other, and Chris watched with an odd sense of detachment. His problem was very similar to those of these second rate actors: his relationships were always fake. They all went into it convinced they were going to be the ones to settle him down, make him a happily married man with a white picket fence, three kids and a mini-van.

How deluded those poor souls were. Chris was morally opposed to marriage on a genetic level. Life-long commitments, common law relationships, those were more his bag. It wasn’t as though he didn’t believe in being there forever, just that he didn’t want the papers to show for it. The minute something was written down, it all went to shit. Chris had seen it happen. He was just saving himself the grief of a messy divorce. Or preparing himself for a long life of just him, doing his thing, but if that’s how things worked out, then he’d deal with that. Just make no mistake, Chris was not afraid of commitment.

So Chris felt it was time to fall in love again, and not just any love, but a love that dared not speak its name. Chris was as queer as queer could be, beautifully bisexual and quite content to be that way, and after commitment-crazy women, he was ready to move onto a new target: commitment-easy men. And he had just the guy in mind.

Chris had been thinking about this for a very long time.

~..~

All I want, all I need
We all really need love

~..~

Chris realised he had a pool of four to choose from, which were all right odds. He supposed he could have looked further – at choreographers and the like, people legally tied to them and unable to say a word about what it was like to work for the biggest pop group in the world – but it was just easier to push friendship one step further.

Justin was knocked out of the running before it ever started. Chris couldn’t do it, hook up with his best friend, mostly because he couldn’t imagine having sex with Justin Timberlake without either busting something or laughing himself silly. There was too much to lose, really, and Chris wasn’t about to propose they get together. Besides, Justin was pretty straight, though open-minded, and Chris swore, if he heard one more story about life after Britney that involved sex and booze, Chris was going to scream.

Lance got knocked out due to the space thing. Chris was ready to get into it now, start going out to dinner and taking long walks on beaches and other clichéd acts of wooing, and with Lance in Russia, being put through the grind and being prepared to get tossed into orbit, well, Chris just couldn’t seem to work around that obstacle.

That left him with JC and Joey. Both very tempting, both very attractive. They both hated sports, which was a mark against them, but JC at least tried with Playstation, and Joey could be forced into a round of b-ball if pushed hard enough. On the physical front, JC was pretty beautiful these days, all wispy hair and bright grin. Joey, well, Joey was solid guy, thighs like tree trunks, and a smile that cut to the quick.

But JC was skirting the edges of a great love affair. Probably the great love affair of his life. With the tour slowing down and approaching the end, JC was tumbling closer and closer to the first boy to ever have his heart, and after years of denying he felt the same, Tony seemed on the cusp of finally returning it all to JC. Chris didn’t want to fuck with something that had spanned a decade, that JC had counted on never happening and now was.

So it was going to be Joey, if he agreed. And he would, because Chris had been putting together a list why he was the man for Joey, who wasn’t particularly known for any homosexual behaviour, but Chris was sure once he saw why Chris was a top-notch companion, he would give into his urges to mate with anybody who offered. Joey was straight because it was easy, and Chris just had to make him see that Chris was easy, too. Literally and figuratively.

~..~

I just wanna tell you how I feel
I just wanna have a love that's real

~..~

Once the tour wrapped up and they all headed home, Chris FedEx-ed his proposal to Joey then waited for him to come calling. In the meantime, he cleaned his house from top to bottom, including the outside windows, which required him to stand on a ladder with the garden hose clenched tightly in his fist. He got to four steps on the ladder before it was too high and he had to climb down, eyeing the upper floor windows. It was indeed a problem.

When Joey rolled into the driveway, Chris was midway up the ladder and too scared to go down or up. The whole thing wobbled every time Chris moved, and Chris was sure he was going to die up there, like in Tremors, too scared to get down and save his own life. Also, Joey didn’t look particularly happy, which made Chris think that up was where he was meant to stay.

“Are you stuck?” Joey asked, grabbing onto the ladder and steadying it. Chris closed his eyes and nodding, feeling lame. He got stuck in high places a lot more often than he wanted to admit, but it didn’t mean it didn’t batter his ego every time. At least JC still passed out when he saw needles. If he didn’t, Chris would be feeling a lot more lame. “I got it, Chris. Get down here.”

Chris scrambled down as fast as he could, tripping on the third to last step and landing in the flowerbed, but he merely got up and brushed the dirt and posies off him. The ladder was going into the garage, and he was going to hire a caretaker. Chris tried to be handy and independent, but it just didn’t work in all cases.

“Can I offer you a beer?” Chris asked.

“You better, Kirkpatrick. I got your damn proposal,” Joey said.

“Great. Let’s go inside and discuss it,” Chris said and smacked Joey on the ass to get him moving. He didn’t budge for a second or two, but Chris knew the minute Joey started following him in. He wasn’t going to swear it yet, despite the fact Joey looked irritated with him, which didn’t mean much at all. Everyone got irritated at Chris so often that he was completely desensitised to it. It was Chris’s lot in life to piss people off by just existing.

“Corona all right? I need to make a run to the store one of these days.” Chris rooted through his fridge until he found two, setting them down on the counter as he started to hunt for a lime. When Joey didn’t answer, he leaned back. “Joe. Corona?”

“Whatever,” Joey said.

Chris sliced up the lime then opened the beers, stuffing one wedge down each bottleneck. Taking a quick swig of the nearest one, Chris swallowed hard. The stuff tasted like absolute piss, but there wasn’t much Chris could do, besides buy the damn company and reinvent the formula, and he was sure he didn’t have money to start a revolution like that. “Deck, man? It’s too fucking hot inside. Air conditioner is on the fritz.”

Once outside, Joey said, “you’re such a goddamn freak, man.”

“So I’ve been told,” Chris said, smiling around the neck of his beer bottle. He took another mouthful then sat back, crossing his ankles together and lounging. “I thought you’d appreciate the fact I took some time to figure out we’re meant to be.”

“The flowcharts were a nice addition,” Joey said. He sounded heavily sarcastic, but Chris honestly thought they were a nice idea, especially the one that contrasted time and hotness, which firmly concluded that Joey just got better with age, like a fine Italian wine. “And who knew you were such a catch? I had no fucking idea, Kirkpatrick.”

Chris lifted up his hand. “Say no more, Joe. I’m beginning to suspect that you might not be taking this seriously.” Chris turned to look at Joey, who was obviously not taking this remotely serious at all, his face all twisted up in a disbelieving expression. “See. I went through everyone in the group, and all the men I knew, and you came out on top.” Chris grinned. “Ha. I said top. Jumping the gun a bit there.”

“No kidding.” Joey frowned. “Kirkpatrick, I swear to god, if you’re fucking with me.”

“Not yet, baby.” Chris shook his bottle at bit then drank a bit more, the sour taste of lime almost overwhelming the putrid taste of Corona. “Dude, seriously. I gave this a lot of thought, and I think we’d be good. Of course, if you don’t think so, tell me, and I’ll go find someone else. If only Justin hadn’t pissed off Wade with all those castration threats for fucking Britney. Pity.”

“You are aware I consider myself straight,” Joey said slowly.

“Mm-hm. But I also know that on a basic level you don’t really care. Tell me you haven’t been with a guy or two, and I’m not quite sure I’d believe you, Joe. Besides, I’m an animal in bed. I can change your mind.” Chris shook his hips a bit then grinned at Joey, who was smirking. “I see you don’t believe me. Well, not much I can do but show you.”

Joey snorted. “I tell you what. You convince me that you mean it, and I’ll consider it, all right?” Joey stood up and poured the rest of his beer into Chris’s bottle, dripping a bit over Chris’s fingers. “I’m taking Brianna to the petting zoo tomorrow. I’m a package deal, Chris.”

“Not a problem, Joe. You know I love her. What time?”

“Around noon. Be ready when I pick you up.”

Chris grinned. “See you then, Joe-boy.”

Joey nodded his head and smirked again, swatting Chris on the head as he passed, and Chris sat back again, closing his eyes and lifting his face to the sun.

~..~

How can I stop this burning desire?
I can see that you're the one for me

~..~

Brianna was not a problem. Chris had dated a girl back in high school who had a kid, conceived and born when she was a mere thirteen. It wasn’t his, but he loved the kid nonetheless, until the kid’s mom found someone who was willing to pay for them. Chris couldn’t even afford to keep his own family fed, and it was just as well. The kid was a doll, which was why he stuck around as long as he did, but the mother was an absolute bitch. But anyway, Brianna was just an added perk to Joey.

“Cis,” Brianna said when she saw him, wiggling in her car seat. “Cis!”

“Hey, kid,” Chris said and ducked into the backseat, kissing her fat cheeks until she squeaked. Joey had clipped barrettes in her hair, done terribly uneven, so Chris unclasped them all and fixed her curls so they were out of her eyes. Joey looked bemused when Chris climbed into the front seat, and Chris grinned. Brianna was not a problem at all.

The zoo was filled with goats and llamas, and one of the goats chomped on Brianna’s hand. As she sobbed and Joey walked around with her, Chris complained about the rabid goat then yelled at the goat directly, which Joey appreciated more than Brianna did, but it was the thought that counted. When Brianna calmed down, Chris picked up her tiny hand and kissed her red knuckles. She sniffled, so he looked through the diaper bag until he found a Kleenex. He wiped her nose and smiled as Joey kissed the top of her head.

Brianna loved the bunnies. They were allowed to go in and sit with them, but Joey was terribly allergic to the things, so Chris went in alone and helped Brianna toddle around after them. He sat her in his lap, fitted between his crossed legs, and picked up a small black dwarf bunny in his hands. Brianna petted it softly, careful as could be, and Chris grinned at Joey, who was watching from the fence. When the bunny hopped away, Chris picked Brianna up and returned her, safe and sound. One look at Joey’s face, and Chris knew he had him, at least on this point.

They went to McDonald’s for dinner, sitting in the back with hats pulled over their eyes and sunglasses on. Chris went to get the food as Joey set Brianna up in the highchair, holding down her legs as she kicked, and Chris laughed at the wry look Joey gave him before he left.

When Chris sat down, Brianna looked at him seriously and said, “Cis.”

Chris helped Joey sort the order, opening a bag of chicken nuggets and handing one to Brianna. She started chewing at it, holding onto it tightly, and she sipped on the straw Joey offered, a small carton of milk in his hand. With the other, he struggled to open his Big Mac, so Chris leaned over and unwrapped it. Joey smiled his thanks.

Chris wasn’t afraid of domesticity or babies, which was a good thing because Joey came saddled with both. Joey still knew how to party, but he also knew the time and place for it. He was sure he discussed these beliefs in the proposal, under the sub-heading, “Your kid and why I love her.” So Chris wasn’t freaked out by anything he was seeing, and Joey knew it.

Brianna ate two and a half nuggets and ten french fries, which Joey seemed to think was a lot. Joey ate the rest, even the mangled half-eaten one that Chris would have eaten himself if Joey hadn’t beat him to it. Afterwards, they cleaned up and headed to the bathroom to deal with a slightly stinky Brianna, who was happily singing, “Cis, Cis, Cis” as Chris danced down the aisle with her.

“You got me, Kirkpatrick,” Joey said once the door was closed, and Chris grinned at him, reclined against the wall and guarding the entrance way. “Yeah, well, keeping laughing, smart ass. You passed the kid test, which is the only one I really had. I’m easy. Sue me.”

“We’ll have to have sex,” Chris said.

Joey laughed as he pulled the dirty diaper off Brianna and slid the new one under her, grasping her legs by the ankles and lifting her up as she squirmed, desperate to be free. “I’m aware of that. Believe it or not, but I may actually be attracted to you. Imagine that.”

“I am dead sexy. My fine ass,” Chris reminded him, grinning.

“This better work, you jackass.”

“It will,” Chris promised.

~..~

You're the only one I really need
I need a love that burns like a fire

~..~

For a supposed Romeo, Joey was one of the most jittery people Chris had ever met. If Chris had been smart, he would have kissed him in the McDonald’s bathroom, but he hadn’t since two rednecks had walked in and recognised Chris as one of those “fags from Nsync.” Rather than get into a fistfight in front of Brianna, who had been on the verge of tears due to the tone of the men, they just left. But now Chris was left with a dilemma.

“It’s weird, man. I can’t just do it. I need, like, a mood,” Joey said, pressed against to driver’s side door where he knew Chris couldn’t reach him. The car was in park, idling outside Chris’s house, and Chris slumped back into his seat with a sigh of defeat.

“A mood,” Chris repeated. “You agreed to my proposal, Joe.”

“Dude, we’ve been friends for, like, eight years. And, really, man, you’re completely wrong about me being with guys other than you, I should tell you. But it’s the friend thing. Humour me. I’m not going anywhere. I just. This is weird for me, okay? I just. Need a mood,” Joey said then kicked Chris out of the car, which was where Chris was planning on planting a big wet one before Joey started freaking out, but it obviously wasn’t going to happen.

Never in Chris’s wildest imagination did he think Joey would have cold feet about something so trivial as kissing. Chris had made out with JC on more than one occasion; it was nothing really, just a press of lips and, if Chris was lucky, some tongue. But he would wait, since Joey was the man of the hour, and Chris couldn’t imagine doing any better than a guy who could tolerate him at his absolute worst and had an adorable kid that called him “Cis”.

Chris needed to get laid, he knew this much, but it didn’t look like it was going to happen any time soon. With a shrug of his shoulders, he turned around and walked up his front lawn, unlocking the door and letting himself in. There were messages; he listened to them. At ten o’clock, he called Joey’s cell phone and waited until Joey picked up on the fourteenth ring.

“Hey,” Joey said.

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t kiss me, you tool,” Chris said. “Is the kid in bed?”

“Yep. And in my defence, I repeat what I said earlier. This is weird.”

Chris could have conceded to the point, but he didn’t want to. It wasn’t his problem Joey hadn’t thought about the relationship possibilities with Chris beforehand. Instead, he opened his jeans and wriggled out of them with the help of only one hand, the other clutching his cordless. He was tempted just to cut his briefs off with the scissors, but he was too lazy to get up and get them.

“What are you doing?” Joey asked suddenly.

“Nothing,” Chris said. There was an addendum in the notes at the end of the proposal that said he sometimes lied but not about important stuff. Right now, at this stage in the game, taking off his pants was probably kind of important, but Chris lied anyway. There was a second addendum that he would never lie to hurt Joey, and this was where this came in. “Keep talking.”

“I wasn’t really saying much, except defending my manhood.”

“Heh. Manhood,” Chris said, and touched his with the pads of his fingers, shivering at the chill of pleasure that spread across his hips. If his breath hitched, well, it was only semi-intentional. There were few things that Chris loved more than the feel of a cock in his hand, his own or otherwise. “Man, you will love kissing me.”

“Dude.” Joey said then repeated, “dude.” He sounded awed, and Chris was feeling pretty awed himself, his dick plump in his own hand and sending shoots of pleasure up his spine. “I think maybe you’re underestimating how, like, bizarre I’m finding this. Like, did you always want to sex me or is it a more recent thing?”

Chris slicked his foreskin back then rubbed at the head of his cock with his finger. “Joe, man. Always. Keep talking.”

Joey never gave up a chance to hear himself speak. “I don’t know, man. It would have been easier to pick C or Lance. They’re totally one-hundred-percent bonafide queer, but me, man. I’m a piece of work. You know, there’s always the chance that my sexual prowess doesn’t extend to man-on-man sex. I’m not kidding. This is a concern.”

“Uh-huh,” Chris said. He was trying not to touch too much, or he’d come right there, before Joey even clued in and realised what Chris’s heightened breathing meant, but this was even hotter in practice than it was in theory. “Joe, man. I’m not worried.”

“Also, no ass stuff for a while, okay? The one way to get me running is to bring that into the game way too early. Because, whoa, you know? That’s really gay. Though, I guess, well, Justin says he likes getting fingered, right? And he’s pretty straight,” Joey continued. His voice was climbing higher and higher, excited and hysterical all at once. Chris smiled and squeezed his cock in a tight fist, holding it there.

“What about blowjobs?” Chris asked, concentrating on breathing, speaking and wanking all at once. The first two weren’t a problem, but the last one was pulling at the last surviving tendrils of control that Chris had in him.

Joey paused before answering, “I can give a blowjob, sure. I mean, I’ve received enough. How hard can it be, really?” Chris started stroking the shaft of his cock again, slowly and between the pads of his fingers, just enough to zip flashes of pleasure through his body, curling his toes. “No teeth, don’t deep-throat unless you know what you’re doing, use your hands, act like you want to be there. Simple rules, really. I won’t have a problem.”

“How about rimming?” Chris asked. His hips were lifting off the bed, just a little bit, as if driven by instinct. Already his legs wanted to spread, and though Chris was a versatile guy, he knew Joey was going to be a top, at least for a few months. Chris was cool with it.

“Like, ass licking?” Joey asked for clarification, and Chris made some sort of affirmative noise in his throat, though it could have been the sound of anticipation of impending climax, which was, Chris felt, one of the best feelings in the world. “Well, I don’t know.”

“I love doing it,” Chris murmured. He wasn’t trying to sound sexy, but it came out that way, considerably lower than usual and throaty, like he had to throw the words out when all he wanted to do was pant. “Joe. I’ll do it to you, man.”

“Oh.” Joey paused, and Chris could imagine him, lips rounded into an O, one eyebrow raised. Even that was hot to Chris right then, and he started moving his fist over his cock, just a little. In the silence between them, it seemed strangely loud, and Chris, getting tired of Joey’s obliviousness, breathed a little more forcefully into the phone.

“Keeping talking,” Chris demanded.

“Are you.” Joey paused, and it was all Chris could do not to cheer him on, to push Joey towards the realisation that Chris was doing naughty things to himself on the other end of the phone. “Wait, man. Chris. Oh, god, you are. Oh, man.”

“I’m what, Joe?” Chris asked, lifting his knees off the bed and pulling them up until his legs were spread and he was nearly folded in two. Chris didn’t look it, but as he explained to Joey in the proposal, he was still pretty flexible when the time called for it. Reaching down, Chris poked a finger at his ass, dry and hot, and rubbed around as he held his cock in the hammock of skin between his thumb and his index finger. “Joe, tell me what I’m doing.”

“You’re. Jesus, Chris. Give a guy a little warning before you start jerking off in his presence, or something. Oh, man,” Joey repeated. The chirp of disbelief in Joey’s voice was actually pretty hot, the rolling sound of Joey’s words charged by the new discovery.

“Way I figure it, Joe. Either, you keep talking and keep your pants on, or you keep talking and take them off. Either way, just don’t shut up. I’m close to coming,” Chris admitted and shivered as his finger slid in, gripped by tight muscle. It’d been a while since Chris had taken anything up his ass, but he couldn’t deny he loved it. “I’m finger-fucking myself, Joe.”

“Jesus!” Joey exclaimed. Chris listened as the phone tumbled to the ground, landing on the carpet with a muted thunk, and he knew when Joey picked it up, could hear Joey’s breathing on the other end, coming fast and hard, like he was excited. “Are you seriously?”

“Yep. Take off your pants, Joe,” Chris said, and the phone was dropped again, but this time, Chris could hear the rustle of clothing, jeans being thrown to the floor. When the breathing came back, Chris smiled. “You totally naked, Joe?”

“Yeah,” Joey said. “You?”

Chris pulled his finger out of his ass then dropped the phone onto the bed, lifting his arms to shuck off his shirt, tossing it away. When he settled back down, he said, “I am now,” and placed his hand back on his cock, keeping his index finger extended. “Now, we jerk.” Chris paused. “You are hard, right?”

“Um, yeah,” Joey mumbled. “Have been for a while.”

“Good stuff, Joe.”

Chris closed his eyes and listened, sliding his palm over his dick, back and forth, with the graceful glide of skin against skin. He was sweating, hot and damp, and it was bringing out the scent of the Irish Spring soap he’d used in the morning, which reminded him of Joey, since Joey used the same brand. Chris smiled as Joey’s repeated use of a quiet, “fuck,” and Joey’s bed was squeaking, probably used to the thrust of a body, one or two or, knowing Joe, three or four, against the mattress. Chris murmured a, “yeah, Joe,” and breathed heavily, his balls tightening in anticipation. On the other end of the phone, Joey groaned, and Chris knew from years of living together on a bus that he was coming. It had always been hot, but this time, it pushed Chris over with a forceful shove, dragging out an orgasm that set off fireworks in Chris’s head.

“Next time we see each other, we kiss, man,” Chris said, still labouriously breathing. Joey made a sound of choked agreement, a sleepy and sated sort of sound that prickled the wet skin on the back of Chris’s neck. “Good night, Joe.”

“‘Night, Chris,” Joey muttered.

Chris slept like a baby.

~..~

I need love, you need love
We all really need love

~..~

Lance’s farewell party was a small deal being held at JC’s house, since his was the cleanest, other than Lance’s, but everybody agreed it wasn’t fair to make Lance clean up their mess two days before he left for Russia. JC didn’t think it was fair he got stuck with the mess, either, but he was out-voted three-to-one, since Lance was supposed to be surprised by their thoughtfulness. Chris had already told him, since Lance hated surprises, but the others seemed convinced that Lance was totally in the dark.

They made most of the plans over the phone, so Chris didn’t get to see Joey again until Lance’s party, which was three days after the phone incident. They’d done it again last night, with both of them playing Digital Getdown in the background simply because it was insanely funny. There was nothing Chris liked more than laughing and coming at the same time.

Chris got to the party with moments to spare, and it didn’t feel right, the idea of shoving his tongue in Joey’s mouth for the first time as all of their friends watched. So he waited, standing on the other side of the room from Joey, who had Brianna dressed in a frilly pink dress, sitting in his arms as she drank from her sippy cup.

“Oh my lord!” Lance yelped when everyone yelled surprise! and he was just as bad an actor as Chris remembered, but the clutching of his chest was a nice effect. There weren’t a lot of people there, really, but by the time Chris worked his way over to Lance, Joey was already there. Lance was kissing Brianna’s chubby cheeks and saying stuff like, “she’ll be so big when I get back, I’m going to miss everything,” and “aren’t you the prettiest girl here, yes you are.”

“Hey, Bass. Watch the kid for a second, will you?” Chris said, plucking Brianna from Joey’s arms and stuffing her in Lance’s. With Joey free, Chris curled his fingers around Joey’s wrist and pulled him upstairs, into JC’s extravagantly modern bedroom and up against the wall. It was, perhaps, one of the hottest kisses in Chris’s long life, Joey’s hands on his hips and pulling him between his spread legs and Chris sucking at Joey’s tongue, his hands on the sides of Joey’s face. When they parted, Chris was feeling lightheaded and breathless.

“Um. Guys,” JC said, and Chris looked over at him. He had his art portfolio open on the bed, some of his more eclectic pieces spread out, which he never showed anybody but the four of them and now, obviously, Tony, who was standing still, mouth slightly open and eyes spread wide. “Uh. You just. Is there something I should know?”

“We’re having a grand love affair. A true romance, if you will,” Chris said, shrugging.

“Seriously?” JC asked, looking at Joey.

“Seriously,” Joey said. Chris grinned at him.

“Well, if you’re happy,” JC said helplessly.

Joey was starting to look equally bleak, so Chris grabbed his hand and started pulling him away. As a compulsive worrier, JC feared what he didn’t understand, and Joey was so easygoing that he tended to be pretty malleable in his beliefs. Chris didn’t want to risk Joey getting talked out of it so early in the game. Besides, Chris was the man for Joey; he’d already proven that.

Joey shook his hand away when they got downstairs, but Chris didn’t bother to argue the point. Instead, he drank a bit and helped Justin barbeque the hamburgers, mingling with Lance’s drinking buddies and corporate associates. It was pretty boring, but Lance seemed to be having a good time, though by the time the crowd started petering out, the joyful mood had been replaced by quiet tears in Joey’s lap.

“I’m going to miss everything,” Lance whispered as Joey stroked up and down his back. It was only six months, Chris wanted to point out, but he sat on the armrest of the couch instead, twirling his watch around his wrist. Somewhere in the proposal, Chris had talked in length about why Joey was a good guy, and if holding Lance Bass while he sobbed like a baby wasn’t a prime example, then Chris wasn’t sure what was.

Chris was going to miss Lance, of course, it was like Chris was cutting off an arm for half a year, but he wasn’t really thinking about it. Hopefully, when it hit him, Joey would continue to be a good guy and hold Chris when he realised he was maimed and bleeding. Fumbling off the armrest, sinking into the deep cushions, Chris leaned against them and didn’t think about it.

~..~

All I want, all I need
We all really need love

~..~

“Yo,” Chris said. He was in Joey’s kitchen, trying to fix his sink. Somewhere in the proposal, Chris had mentioned he knew a little bit about plumbing, and Joey decided it was a fine time to prove whether or not that fell into Chris’s lying clause when the pipes started leaking all over the tile floor. When the phone rang, he picked it up.

“Who’s this?”

“Hi, Kelly. It’s Chris,” he said, fiddling with the back of his jeans. At the sight of plumber butt, Joey had picked him up by the seat of his pants and yanked until Chris’s briefs were flossing the crack of his ass. It still hurt. “Joe’s not here. Took Brianna to the doctor’s.”

“I wasn’t sure he’d remember,” Kelly said slowly. Chris wasn’t sure why she couldn’t seem to accept Joey’s brain, though a bit slow at times, was only that way because Joey carted around so much useless knowledge, which included dates. It sometimes took Joey a while to get it all out, but he was always on top of his game. “What are you doing there?”

“Fixing his sink,” Chris said. “You want me to tell him you called?”

“That’s not necessary,” Kelly said and hung up.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you later. By the way, I have plans to bone your ex-boyfriend in the near future. Have a great day, Kelly,” Chris said and put the phone back on its stand. He returned to the dripping sink, whacking it with a really big wrench.

When Joey came home, the sink was fixed, and Chris was admiring his work. Joey crouched down to examine it, but when he came close with arms open for a hug, Chris stepped back and grinned. That was exactly how he got Chris last time with the wedgie. Instead, Chris took Brianna and held her as a shield as she screeched excitedly. Later, as Chris helped get her into her jammies and put her down for bed, he caught Joey looking at him strangely. Outside in the hall, Chris put a hand on Joey’s wrist.

“What?” Chris asked.

“You,” Joey said.

“Can’t argue with that,” Chris replied and smirked.

“You are such a freak,” Joey said. It seemed to be his anthem these days, especially now that kissing had entered into the daily routine, even if nothing else had. Whenever Chris so much as breathed, Joey looked at him like he was nuts, but Chris had always thought he was too good to be true, so it barely fazed him. “And you’re so good with my baby girl.”

“Four sisters, man. I’m practically an honorary chick, so I understand them. ‘Sides, she’s adorable,” Chris replied, leaning against the wall and waiting until Joey got the idea to fold his body over Chris’s, which didn’t take too long. Chris just had to wiggle his hips a bit and flash his neck and lick his lips. Joey smirked but put a big hand on Chris’s waist, thumb dipping under the hem of his shirt and touching Chris’s belly. Chris chomped at his nose.

“You are such a freak,” Joey said again.

“You fucking sweet-talker, you,” Chris replied.

~..~

I need love

~..~

Every two days, Chris took a long, hot bath. He had bubbles and everything, though he wasn’t using them tonight. The candles were lit, and the incense was burning, smelling like a forest on fire, but Chris never was one for doing anything correctly. It was calm though, the water hot and steaming, and he lolled his head back, taking deep and soothing breaths.

Chris had mild anger issues. Or big anger issues. Whatever, really. He was seeing a shrink about them, and the guy, though essentially useless in most regards, actually seemed to be onto something with the bath thing. It beat drinking and pot, at any rate, since Chris no longer woke up hungover or fearing for the continuing survival of his already limited number of brain cells.

The good thing about Joey was he knew all of this, so when Joey walked into the bathroom, he just said a quick hello and started to walk out again, but Chris stopped him with a lifted hand, fingers spread like a spider’s web. “Joe, either get in the tub or get in the fucking tub.”

Joey eyed him then nodded briefly, shucking out his clothes and piling them on the floor. When Joey covered his dick with his hand, Chris pointed at him and growled a bit until Joey twisted up his face and gave Chris the finger. “Fuck you,” he said, “this is still really weird, okay? Jesus.” Joey shook his head loosely. “I must be desperate.”

“That’s how I like ‘em,” Chris replied. “Now, get in. You’re raising my blood pressure.”

Joey stood there, and Chris sighed, opening his thighs and patting the water. Once Joey got close enough, Chris was going to wrestle him into position, but it didn’t work if he was pressed against the opposite wall, quivering in terror of Chris’s naked bits. Slowly, Joey edged nearer, and Chris waved him along with a waggle of his fingers.

Chris grabbed Joey the minute he could reach, tugging him hard into the tub. The water rose like waves over the sides, spilling onto the floor, but Chris didn’t care. Once Joey was there, Chris circled him from behind with his legs and sat back, closing his eyes. Eventually, Joey settled, but he was still tense as all fuck. Chris thumped on his shoulders.

“Calm the fuck down, you big pussy. You’d think we’ve never bathed naked together. Jesus.” Chris cinched Joey’s waist with his thighs until Joey finally deflated with a big whoosh of air. “There you go, Joe. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have to mentally picture daffodils.”

Chris thought about flowers and waterfalls and the bright shine of the sun on his face, the smell of the grass all around him, the sound of leaves rustling in the warm wind. But that was all really fucking boring. Threading his fingers through Joey’s hair, Chris massaged his scalp, which started Joey humming under his breath, and thought about getting fucked by him, all big and strong and hairy. If Chris wanted a bear, he’d fucking date Joey, not imagine himself lying in a goddamn forest. He was going to fire his shrink.

“Christ, Kirkpatrick. I’m just too damn sexy for you, aren’t I?” Joey said.

“You know it, Joe. This is all for you, baby,” Chris murmured, skimming his hips forward just to drive the point home that yeah, Joey made him hard. What made it better was that Joey pushed back, and Chris could see him grinning, all smug and self-satisfied. Now that was the Joey that Chris knew. “Stay the night, Fatone?”

Joey paused then groaned. “I’m so goddamn easy.”

“Amen, brother,” Chris said.

~..~

All I wanna do is give it a chance
Everybody needs a true romance

~..~

Joey didn’t let Chris sleep over when he had Brianna, which was absolutely the most absurd thing that Chris had ever heard of, but he begrudgingly agreed, even though she was a whopping fifteen months old and probably didn’t have any idea one way or the other about what her dad was up to at night, which hadn’t really gone beyond enthusiastic blowjobs anyway. For a guy whose sexual prowess Chris had spent ten pages praising, Joey wasn’t quite living up to expectations, but Chris had to admit, otherwise, the whole thing rocked.

High on the joy of a seven am conference call with Dani about a minor FuMan emergency, Chris showed up at Joey’s place around eight, bearing bagels and a newspaper, and he walked upstairs to find Brianna singing happily in her crib, standing at the bars and looking out. She bounced when Chris peeped in, squeaking, “Cis!” And though he’d been on his way to jump on Joey’s spine and get him out of bed for entertainment, Brianna was just too sweet to ignore.

“Hey, kid,” Chris said and plucked her out of the crib, sniffing at her bum. “Whew,” Chris muttered and put her down on the change table, blowing raspberries on her belly until she was clapping. If he tried, Chris could change a diaper one-handed and blind-folded while standing on stilts. It was second nature, having changed so many when he was a kid. It still impressed Joey.

Chris carried Brianna downstairs, nose buried in her tangled hair. She smelled like warm baby, like powder and no-tears shampoo. He set her down in her highchair then made her some toast with jam, cutting it up into small squares. He got her a class of milk and sliced length-wise pieces of banana, which she adored. Chris drank a cup of coffee and had a Mars Bar.

“Na,” Brianna said and held out a blob of banana mush.

Chris eyed it. “I’m not eating that, kid.”

“Na?” Brianna asked and waved it around.

“Kid, that’s gross. You eat it.”

Brianna looked at him, then her hand, then started eating the leftover banana carcass, happy as a clam. Chris reached over to ruffle her hair then flipped to the sports section. When he looked back, a piece of bread was stuck to Brianna’s forehead, and she appeared a bit puzzled by it all. He plucked the square off and offered it to her. She took it daintily and continued on with her meal, a look of intense concentration on her face. Chris sipped his coffee.

Chris wiped her down with a wet cloth when she was finished, ignoring her scrunched up face of distaste, then went for her fingers, blowing on her face until she spit back, grinning. How anything this adorable had come from Joey and his evil ex-girlfriend, Chris wasn’t sure, but there she was, all baby fat and loose brown curls.

Tucking her under his arm as she giggled, he snuck into Joey’s room where the big lug was snoring away, lost in the mass of comforter with his feet hanging out the end. Putting a finger to his mouth, he shushed Brianna, and she nodded, eyes wide. With a grand leaping jump, he flung himself onto the bed.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Chris said, straddling Joey’s hips and pinning him to the bed. Under his hand, Chris could feel Joey’s heart beating against his chest, frantic and terrified, and Chris grinned darkly. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I scare you?”

Joey laughed shakily. “You’re a freak, Kirkpatrick. That my kid?”

Chris looked at the baby hooked under his arm, smiling hugely and flashing a line of small teeth, and nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s her. I found her down at the nudie bar, dealing dope and smoking and listening to Slipknot. A bad apple, this one. Where did you go wrong?”

“When I let you in the door,” Joey replied.

~..~

I would give anything to be with you
I will give you all the love you need

~..~

Chris’s only issue with Kelly was that she hated him. She had always hated him, and Chris had no idea why. They’d never really talked, and he’d never said anything cruel to her, since he respected Joey’s girlfriends even when he didn’t like them, which was a rule he kept for all the guys. As far as Chris knew, he’d been nothing but civil to her from the moment they first met years ago. Regardless, Kelly hated Chris.

“She doesn’t,” Joey said unsteadily when Chris asked in his annual hunt for the great explanation of why Kelly wanted to run him over with her SUV. Chris had asked Kelly, once, and she’d called him an absolute fuck and walked away. Joey had spent the last eight years denying Kelly was even capable of feeling hate. “Really, man. She’s just like that.”

“Uh huh,” Chris replied.

The side effect of this whole hate festival was that, about five weeks into the relationship, Chris realised he was Joey’s dirty little secret. Kelly didn’t know, at all, didn’t even seem to suspect. To make matters worse, every time she called, Chris was fixing something, so she seemed to think that Chris was suddenly a handy man or something. He’d fixed her toilet, at Joey’s request, which probably didn’t help. Instead of thinking he was her ex-boyfriend’s boyfriend, she thought he was her ex-boyfriend’s plumber. It was all really stupid.

“Dude, you’ve gotta tell her,” Chris said as he poked around in the tank, removing the broken chain and preparing to add the new one. Living in slums for most of his life, Chris knew how to make things last forever. It all it took was a little bit of duct tape, cheap hardware and a minimum amount knowledge.

“I will,” Joey said. “Soon.”

“Sure,” Chris muttered. He tugged the old chain off and dropped it in the garbage then hooked on the new one. When it was fixed, he stepped back, wiped his hands on his jeans and replaced the lid. Joey stepped up behind him, circling an arm around Chris’s waist and kissing behind his ear. Chris sighed. “You still gotta tell her, Joe. Some day. I guess.”

“I will,” Joey said, “I promise.”

~..~

If you only give your love to me
What would I do if I were without you?

~..~

It was the most pathetic sight Chris had ever witnessed: a delirious and feverish Joey attempting to take care of his sick, ailing child as she puked everywhere. He’d been calling for three hours before giving up and inviting himself over, and it took him less than five minutes to shove Joey into bed and prepare a temperate bath for poor Brianna, who was covered in vomit, sweat and tears. Joey was mumbling restlessly in the bedroom.

Chris pulled the washcloth over Brianna’s back, her pudgy arms, her round belly as she watched him, tears in her eyes. Dipping his hand into the bath, he cupped some water and poured it over her head, tipping her back to protect her eyes. She was hot, her skin damp even before the water hit it, and he didn’t keep her in any longer than he had to, especially when she started shivering. Buffing her dry, he put her in a diaper then lifted her in his arms, tucking her against his chest and draping Blankie over her back. She sighed wetly, sucking her thumb into her mouth, and he kissed the top of her head.

He walked into the kitchen and looked on the board for the number to the doctor, dialling it carefully. It rang three times until the receptionist picked up, and Chris asked for a doctor only to be told he was unavailable. Chris gritted his teeth, Brianna sweating against him and snuffling restlessly, but agreed to talk to a nurse instead. She was unusually nice and comforting as he explained the situation calmly, walking to the bathroom for a thermometer and checking under Brianna’s armpit for her temperature. Nothing to worry about, Chris was told, he’d done everything right so far, but if her fever got worse or she kept vomiting, to bring her in. Relieved, Chris thanked the nurse and hung up.

Chris tried to put her down, but that just upset her, tears rolling down her face as she reached for him, sobbing. “Shh,” he whispered, picking her up and kissing her temple. “I won’t leave, sweetheart. Let’s go check on daddy. Shh, it’s okay.”

Joey had puked in the wastebasket a few times by the time Chris came to check on him and was hanging half on the floor, shirt drenched with sweat. Chris helped him back into the centre of the bed, ignoring his moans of protest, and went to run a bath for him. He sang to Brianna softly under his breath, lullabies that he didn’t seem to know all the words to, but he knew the melody. When the water was ready, Chris coaxed Joey into the bathroom.

“chris. hi, hey,” Joey said, leaning into him and nuzzling his cheek. “hi.”

Chris smiled. “Get in the damn tub, Joe. You stink.”

“wanna fuck?” Joey asked, plopping down on the toilet seat and slumping over. It was a juggling act to get him undressed and hold Brianna, but after some tugging and the suggestion of scissors, Joey started disrobing himself. He paused midway, looking absolutely horrified. “oh, no, i swore in front of my baby,” he whispered. “i’m a bad dad.”

Laughing, Chris bumped him into the water, forcing him down with a firm hand on his shoulder. “Joe, don’t worry about it, dude. You’re out of your mind, right now. Just sit there and cool down, okay? And don’t drown, Joe. Promise me.”

“no drowning,” Joey repeated solemnly, slumping into the water and lying his head on the side of the tub, his eyes glossy and half-closed. Rolling up a handtowel, Chris slid it under Joey’s cheek, then Chris sat on the toilet seat. Brianna was almost asleep.

So this was it, Chris realised. This was his life. A miserable baby in his arms, a miserable boyfriend in the tub, and Chris, who was probably a lot happier than the situation warranted, but he couldn’t help it. This was his life. Sure, all the singing and fame and fortune and chances to do actually stuff with his life were amazing, but this. Chris didn’t particularly like being in love, hated how open and vulnerable it made him, but he needed it, mostly because it filled voids in him that he didn’t like admitting he had. A double-edged sword, for sure, but Chris was willing to bleed for it.

~..~

I need love, you need love
We all really need love

~..~

“Now, how does this contraption work?” Chris asked. Brianna watched him with wide eyes, a thumb in her mouth. “See, kid, the problem is all this hi-tech gadgetry. Cell phones, and palm pilots, and two-way pagers. In the good old days, you called people up on phones with rotary dials, which didn’t have nearly as many wires.” Chris forced the plug into the socket then sat back, admiring his handiwork. “Here goes nothing, kid.”

Brianna stared at him blankly.

“Yeah, yeah. If I was your uncle Lance, it wouldn’t have taken an hour, but sue me, kid. C’mere,” Chris said, grabbing her by the waist and lifting her onto his lap. She looked up at him, still sucking away, and he grinned at her until she grinned back, thumb in her mouth. “Okay. We’re a bit late, but daddy waits for stuff like this.”

Chris moved around the mouse until he was in the program. The camera was way off-centre, so he fixed it. Brianna squealed when she saw her own face and reached with her free hand to touch the screen, and Chris exhaled sharply. They were one step closer to beating technology. He pressed a few buttons until Joey’s face popped up on the screen, turned away, watching television or something, probably. Chris was just glad he wasn’t wanking.

“Da-ee!” Brianna shouted, popping her thumb out of her mouth.

“Hey, bug.” Joey grinned and waved, the image lagging in a strange, jerky pattern, but Brianna didn’t seem to mind or even notice. Chris held her around the belly as she wriggled happily, trying to palm the screen. Joey lifted his hand, and she pressed hers against the picture, leaving smudged marks on the glass. “She looks good, Chris.”

“We’re having a great time, Joe. We went for a walk to the P-A-R-K, she had a bath, and we ate spaghetti for dinner. She was a mess, man. I took pictures. Say hi to daddy, kid,” Chris said and held her fat little wrist, waving her hand, and she started flapping both her arms, squealing delightedly. “We’re good. No problems at all. She misses you, though.”

“I miss her, too,” Joey said, smiling. “Kelly should be back in town in a day or so.”

“Dude, really. You’re not putting me out or anything. I like doing this. How’s the movie going?” Chris asked, lifting Brianna up and back into his lap as she slowly stopped wiggling, but he leaned forward to she could still touch the screen. “Worth the early trip?”

Joey grinned, shaking his head. “Dude, so many famous people, man. I’m way out of my league, but they’re cool. I don’t know why they needed me early, really, but it’s good to be here.” Joey lifted an eyebrow. “You still coming up?”

“Have my plane ticket and everything. I’ll be there. The apartment nice?”

“Right on the lake, big windows, big bed. Yeah,” Joey said, “it’s nice.”

They talked for a while until Chris noticed Brianna was slumped over in his arms, her thumb back in her mouth as she slept. Chris held her up for Joey to blow a kiss to then said good night himself, waving, and Joey waved back. “See you in a few days, Joe.” Chris, before he could stop himself, pressed his fingers to his lips then held them up in front of the camera.

Lifting her up, Chris rearranged Brianna against him as he shut down the computer. She was getting so big, and he remembered her on that first day, when they’d finally been let in to see her and how she fit in the space between his hand and his elbow, so small and pink. Kelly hadn’t been too thrilled when Joey dragged them all into the recovery room, but whatever. Joey wanted them there, and they’d taken turns holding this brand new baby.

Chris checked the door to make sure it was locked then he set the alarm. One by one, he turned off the lights as Brianna snored lightly in his arms, head tipped back and eyelids fluttering. In her room, he pulled back the covers and laid her down on her back. She opened her eyes.

“Da,” she said.

“He’s in Toronto, sweetheart. You’ll see him again in a couple weeks, when you come to visit. He’s a big movie star these days.” Chris brushed his fingers through her hair, pushing the dark curls off her forehead. Her eyes, he knew, were a deep blue, but in the dark, they seemed almost black. He touched her forehead with the flat of his thumb, and said, “sleep, sweetheart.”

“Da,” Brianna said again.

And Chris said, “yeah, I love him, too.”

~..~

All I want, all I need
We all really need love

~..~

One of the qualities Chris liked best about Joey was his incredible ability to understate everything. Nice in Joey’s world translated to incredible in everybody else’s. The apartment, Chris found out, was a small fortress in the sky, the walls to the outside entirely made of glass with a balcony covered in ivy and ferns. Chris thought he could see clear across to Buffalo or Rochester or whatever the fuck lay beyond Lake Ontario. Inside, everything was white or silver, and Chris wondered which young, gay, rich guy Joey had rented the place from. Whoever it was, he had fabulous taste.

Chris stripped down to his briefs, took a piss, removed his contacts then waited for Joey to come home. It was pretty late, since Kelly had been running behind, and Chris had missed his first plane. Joey, the abominable ass that he was, hadn’t bothered to tell Kelly that Chris had been the one taking care of Brianna for the last three days. But Chris returned her all in one piece, bathed and dressed and fed, even. Chris felt he’d outdone himself in doing his small part to ensure Brianna’s continuing survival. She was even happy, all smiles and laughter as Chris handed her over and muttered a quick goodbye before Kelly could take a hacksaw to him.

Chris woke up when Joey tried to pull the glasses off his face. Idly batting him away, Chris sat up and looked around, disoriented for a moment until he remembered he was supposed to be encouraging a seduction. Flopping out on the bed, he fluttered his eyes at Joey and grinned provocatively, spreading his legs. Joey laughed.

“That supposed to be sexy, Kirkpatrick?” Joey asked, standing up and walking to the closet. Unfazed by Joey’s less than enthusiastic response, Chris rolled onto his side, supporting his head with one bent arm, and licked his lips. Joey raised an eyebrow. “Dude, you’re freaking me out, man. Just hold your horses.”

Joey walked into the bathroom, and Chris sighed. “Dude, you suck. Like, seriously. Here I am, trying to do something nice for you – ”

Joey stuck his head out the door, smiling. “Just hold on, Chris. I’m covered in makeup and shit, the type that makes you break out. Covergirl or whatever it is.” Joey ducked back into the bathroom. “Talk to me, man. I’ll be out in a minute or two.”

“I was thinking you could fuck me in the ass tonight!” Chris shouted and was pleased with himself when Joey dropped something, and swore, appearing in the doorway again. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I say the A-word? Silly me, suggesting we have sex like normal people. Forget I mentioned anything. I must be delusional or something.”

Joey laughed. “You just hold that thought, okay? Just a fucking minute, if you will.”

“I suppose,” Chris said, waving his hand through the air. “I might be impotent by the time you get back though. You know, I am considerably older than you. One day, we’re going to wake up, and my dick is going to be a fucking noodle. I’m just warning you.”

“I’ll just hump your leg, Chris. I’m not that picky,” Joey said, turning on the water. Chris grinned, tucking his hands under his head and stretching his legs. If Joey was going to fuck him, well, Chris needed to loosen up. It’d been quite some time, as Chris explained in the proposal, since Chris had been bagged by a guy, but it was like a riding a bicycle. Somehow.

“I’m that picky,” Chris said suddenly.

Joey’s head popped out of the bathroom again, a washcloth to his face as he scrubbed. His skin was worn pink and wet, the facial hair that Chris was so familiar with cut in an entirely new style, but it looked good, regardless. Joey could be the ugliest guy ever, and he’d probably still be more than enough for Chris, who really, on the simplest level, just wanted someone who could make him laugh and happy. “I’ll be out in a second,” Joey said.

Chris wiggled out his briefs then twiddled his thumbs, pausing momentarily to take off his glasses and fold them, setting them down on the night table. Then he continued twiddling his thumbs, hands resting on his soft belly before getting up with a sudden memory of his planned seduction, which Joey had so gently mocked five minutes previous. Chris knelt down and started rooting through his knapsack, looking for the final touch. When Joey came out of the washroom, he was buck naked, and, glancing over his shoulder, Chris whistled lowly as Joey waggled his hips.

“What’re you doing, freak?” Joey asked, trying to peak, and Chris grinned.

“Ta da!” He said, standing up and spreading his arms.

Joey eyed him. “I totally killed your plans to sex me, didn’t I?” He started laughing, shaking his head, so Chris took a running start and jumped. Joey, whether well trained or intuitive, Chris would bet on both, caught him with minimal effort, his arms crossing over Chris’s lower back as Chris tightened his legs around Joey’s waist. “The day will come, Kirkpatrick, when I won’t be able to carry your fine ass around anymore.”

Chris grinned, straightening his arms over Joey’s shoulders and touching his index fingers together behind Joey’s head. “Yes, but until then, young buck, you can.” Chris wiggled a bit until Joey started moving, small labourious steps until they hit the bed. Chris sprawled, the comforter soft against his back, then shivered when Joey spread over him.

“Nice touch,” Joey said, tugging on the red ribbon Chris had tied around his own dick, which was going to be the point of it all until Chris had forgotten and fallen asleep. It was the thought that counted, though, and Chris knew Joey believed in stuff like that.

“Only the best for you, Joe,” Chris replied.

Joey smiled. “I’m beginning to think so.”

~..~

I need love

~..~

Things blind-sided Chris a lot more easily than they did everyone else, and Chris was convinced it was because he spent so much time laughing and being funny and trying to lighten up his life. He tended to miss warning signs, obvious flashing-red-lights, abort, abort warning signs that everybody and their monkey saw. It wasn’t his fault, really. He was just too busy running.

Also, Chris was cursed. He didn’t know why, though he thought he’d done something to deserve it, but what, he didn’t know. He hadn’t ever killed anybody, had always treated the right people with respect, and stood up for kids who couldn’t do it for themselves all through school, which meant he got beat on twice as often. Chris thought he was a good guy, but everyone else seemed to disagree. Which was fine, really. Really.

“I’m not entirely sure what you’re saying to me,” Chris said carefully, ignoring the acidic taste in his mouth. Joey looked at him, lips pressed tightly shut, eyes heavy and hooded, then he turned away, arm crossed protectively against Brianna’s back as she slept on his shoulder. Chris felt naked and beaten, already. Chris’s body was strong, he knew this, his knees were shitty but he kept on dancing, his bones broke but it never slowed him down, he was chubby but he was still healthy. But his mind, that was where Chris knew he had problems.

“Chris, this was fun, but it’s not going to work,” Joey said again. Chris nodded. That was what he heard the first time, but the second time still didn’t make much sense to him. For one, it was working. It’d been working for nearly four months. Brianna loved him, and Joey loved him, and Chris loved them both back, amplified. So to suggest it suddenly wasn’t working, it seemed stupid, absurd, the last thing that Chris expected to hear when he came over with chicken nuggets and a big pink plastic ball for Brianna.

“It sound to me like you’re breaking up with me,” Chris said slowly. If there was ever a time when Chris was going to get back at Joey and puke all over him, like Joey had done to him during his two-day bout of the flu, it was going to be now. “But you can’t be, because I haven’t done anything wrong. I mean, it’s been perfect. Us. We’ve been good. Everybody thinks so.”

“It’s just not going to work,” Joey repeated.

Chris pinched his lips together then asked, “why?”

“It’s not right, this. Us.” Joey looked helpless suddenly, using Brianna as a shield, and Chris didn’t seem to have much pity for him when Chris’s world was unravelling thread by thread. It was funny how easily it all went, it always amazed Chris. He built up all these hopes and ambitions, and invested all the emotional energy he could spare and then some, and it all came tumbling down, every fucking time. “It was fun, but it’s. It was fun. That’s it.”

“It’s perfect. Me and you, we’re perfect. You’ve spent the last year complaining that nobody looks at you like a man, that all they see is the daddy and don’t want to be saddled with your baggage. I see the man, Joe, and I see the daddy. All of you, I’ve seen it, and I’m okay with it,” Chris said. His voice was wavering unsteadily, low in his throat as he tried to force it out.

“Chris. Please don’t make this harder than it has to be,” Joey said. Brianna was starting to stir in his arms, and Chris knew Joey wanted him gone before she was awake, but Chris didn’t want to leave, wouldn’t leave. “I’m sorry, but I’m trying to do what’s best for my daughter.”

Chris snapped his eyes closed and stamped his foot against the ground. “And how do you figure, Joe?” Chris asked quietly, refusing to see anything but black, but Joey didn’t say anything. “What did she tell you about me? What lingering fear did she prey on to make you –”

“Chris, please, go. Now,” Joey said, hushing Brianna when she started squeaking, blinking awake and rubbing at her blue eyes with two pudgy fists. She looked over at Chris and smiled a sleepy smile at him, reaching out her arms. “Please. I’m sorry. I fucked around with you, and I’m sorry I did it, but. This has to stop. Can you just. please leave my house.”

“No,” Chris said carefully. It wasn’t, Chris found out, the right thing to say.

“For fuck’s sake, Chris, go!” Joey shouted, loud like a lion’s roar, and Chris stepped back into the wall at the force of it, his heart suddenly up in his throat. Brianna started wailing, and Chris felt like he might too, his eyes already burning. Joey stepped forward. “Get the hell out!”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Brianna was reaching for him now, sobbing harder than Chris had every heard her cry, but there was nothing he could do, except walk out that door and make Joey stop. And Joey knew it. Chris hated that, and him, hated everything about this whole fucking situation. But what he hated the most was that he hadn’t even seen it coming, even when all the warning signs were there.

“Can I at least say goodbye?” Chris asked.

“You’ll see her again,” Joey said. His voice sounded uncertain, like he thought Chris would just abandon Brianna. Chris swallowed against the swell of disappointment in his throat. If Joey thought he would ever do that to someone like it’d been done to him, then maybe Joey really was a lot stupider than Chris thought he was.

“It won’t be the same,” Chris replied, the taste in his mouth turning bitter now, gross and thick, and he couldn’t look at Joey when he said it. It sounded to Chris like he was giving up, but he wasn’t. Chris grew up around screaming, and he wouldn’t ever force another child to listen to that, especially when she’d already gone through it once. Kelly and Joey had fallen apart slowly but loudly. “Please. I’ll go, but. This happened before, to me, and I never got to say goodbye to him. I want to now, with her. I’ll go. I’ll leave. It’s over. Okay. I get it. But please.”

Joey held out Brianna, and Chris took her, using his palm to wipe her cheeks even though the tears kept rolling. With his sleeve, he pinched her nose and dried it, and she blinked at him, drops of water on her tiny eyelashes. “Bye, sweetheart. Take care of daddy, okay? I’ll be around, I promise, just maybe not for a little while. It hurts,” Chris whispered.

“Da,” Brianna said.

“Your da had to pick sides, and I got shut out. It’s okay. These things happen, sweetheart. And we’ll be fine, me and him, someday.” Chris looked at Joey, who at least was man enough to face him eye to eye. Chris turned back to Brianna and kissed her tiny hand. She scrunched up her face, and Chris touched her cheek with one finger. “It’ll be fine, sweetheart. If you’re lucky, you’ll forget all about this. We didn’t mean to yell.”

Chris handed Brianna back, avoiding touching Joey at all. Somewhere, in the proposal, Chris had explained how things didn’t work out for him usually. Nsync was the exception, but mostly, Chris had been born with a rotten lot in life and he would never, ever escape it. But he liked to believe that sometimes things did work out, when they were important.

In a rare burst of idealism, Chris had thought this was important.

~..~

I need love

~..~

In the proposal, Chris had included a rundown of situations and responses that he felt would ultimately make it easier on both of them if Joey knew how to handle it. The breakup scenario, included for the sake of just-in-case, had pretty much followed the steps Joey took. Ask first and keep asking, and if Chris started begging or getting desperate, yell. Loud. The third step involved physical force, which Dani had used the one time he showed up on her doorstep, begging to be taken back, drunk and high and pathetic, and her brother had kicked his ass. Chris learned to be wary of the third step. So for that, the fact that Joey didn’t drag him out into the street, and that Joey had followed Chris’s instructions on how to dump him, for all of that, Chris was grateful, in a roundabout and very painful way.

Chris drove himself home then went inside, hands empty. He’d left the food and the ball behind, and hopefully, Joey wouldn’t throw it all out. The whole house was empty, and Chris was suddenly aware that his life was very much the same way. Again. Numbly, he turned around and walked back out, heading for the car.

“Hello,” Chris said when JC opened the door, his wild hair twisted to the right. He must have been napping, Chris thought then decided probably not when he saw Tony in the background. Chris smiled painfully, stretching his cheeks. “You know what? I’m going to go.”

“No, come in,” JC said and took his hand, tugging him through the door. Chris went easily, still smiling stupidly because if he stopped then he’d start bawling or something equally embarrassing. In a perfect world, Chris would be saying something funny and lighthearted, but even he wasn’t that strong. “Are you okay?”

“Could we talk privately for a moment?” Chris asked stiffly. He liked Tony a fuck of a lot, but there were things Chris didn’t do in front of people he hadn’t seen when they were ugly and broken and raw. JC looked back at Tony, and Tony nodded, disappearing into the living room. Lacing their fingers together, JC led Chris into the kitchen, where a pot of water was boiling. “What’re you cooking?”

“We haven’t decided yet. It’s been boiling for half an hour,” JC said.

Chris’s jaw was aching, a dart of pain straight up to his temples, but he smiled again, even though he could feel himself crumbling. JC was usually the last on the list for breakdowns, Justin being first and Lance second, but Chris didn’t know who else to go to. He didn’t want to do it, not with Tony in the house and over for what looked to be a night of romance, but he could feel the sorrow trying to strangle him.

“It’s over,” Chris said carefully.

JC tipped his head. “What is, Chris?” Chris looked at him helplessly and gestured with his hands, like they spoke everything, but JC was good with stuff like that. He took Chris’s palms between his fingers and stilled them. JC pursed his lips. “Can I run a bath for you?”

“Could you?” Chris asked, and JC nodded.

Chris didn’t expect JC to climb in with him, but he did, tugging Chris against his chest and holding him. The water was hot like Chris liked it, and there were vanilla candles burning on the counter. Tony knocked on the door once to ask if spaghetti was okay for dinner and if Chris would be staying. JC assured him that was fine, hand moving up and down Chris’s back.

“I did everything right,” Chris said, cheek pressed against JC’s chest. JC’s fingers moved up his back to his shoulders then his jaw, where they dug into it until Chris unclenched his teeth. “It was going to be perfect, you know. I know it was weird, but it was working.”

JC tucked a finger under Chris’s chin and lifted. “Then fight for him.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Chris admitted.

“If you can’t, then nobody can, and I don’t believe that. He let me read that thing you wrote for him. Your proposal,” JC said quietly. Chris looked up and couldn’t help being surprised. He never asked Joey where it got to, but he’d assumed it’d been put away, not passed around. “I was worried, and he let me go through it so I wouldn’t be.”

“It was stupid,” Chris said and shrugged.

“It was brilliant. You had him. The moment you gave it to him, you had him. You would have had any of us, really, but you picked him. I don’t know why he’s doing this, but I can guess.” Chris nodded. He could guess too, and the reason was Kelly, who hated him. But Chris really wasn’t mad at her, just himself, for thinking that leaving her out of the proposal would somehow erase the threat. JC’s fingers danced along the edge of Chris’s hair.

“I thought it was romantic. Like, a love letter but more formal.”

“Maybe I can write him another one,” Chris said.

JC smiled. “Maybe you can.”

~..~

I need love, you need love
We all really need love

~..~

Chris stayed up all night in front of his computer, glasses perched on his nose and cross-legged in the chair as he balanced the laptop on his knees. The feeling in his belly this time was not despairing fear but grim determination. He typed slowly, editing each sentence until it was perfect, and he wondered again why he’d never thought to be a lawyer. The argument was iron-strong, formidable and undeniable. Chris was a genius, which he already knew.

He drank for a few hours in the very early morning until he was dizzily drunk, but he kept going. It gave the thing character, he felt, and if nothing else, it let him spend three pages describing how Joey had crushed his youthful idealism in under five minutes. Chris knew he should be angry, knew he would be right to hate Joey with all that he was, but he loved him and could only be sad about it all. Chris carefully wrote down a list of promises that were within his power to keep then told Joey precisely what would happen if he was to fuck with Chris’s fragile emotions again, which involved a melon-baller and his testicles. Chris was just glad he could find something so deadly serious this utterly hilarious. It took a real pro to make light of the fact that Chris was falling apart inside.

I need love, Chris typed carefully, and you will give it to me, you dumb motherfucker. With a sigh, he backspaced until the name-calling was erased, then typed, stupid jerkoff, instead, since it was less emotionally scarring for Joey. Now that’s love, Chris thought wryly, stabbing his index finger at the keyboard, you dumb motherfucker.

Chris woke up with his face on the coffee table, a puddle of drool haloing his head. It was nearing nine, and whatever pleasant buzz that had kept Chris going for hours was long gone, slept away and replaced by stone cold sobriety. Opening a bottle of water, he spent the next hour trying to hook up his laptop to a printer, and he watched morosely as the letter printed, all thirty-seven pages of it. Carefully, he tucked it into a file folder.

He waited three hours until he was sure he could do it. He yelled at himself in the mirror to get all the anger out, so he wouldn’t scream at Joey for being a pussy-whipped coward. When that helped but not entirely, Chris climbed into the tub and took a hot bath. Finally, at around midnight, he was ready to go. He dressed to kill and stomped down the hall, throwing open the front door and stopping in his tracks. Joey looked back at him.

“Please, take her,” Joey said, holding out a screaming Brianna, sounds coming out of her mouth that Chris hadn’t heard come from anyone before. Her face was mottled and red, streaked with tears, and if babies could be hysterical, she was. Joey was crying too, a desperate sort of keening to his voice. “Please, Chris. Take her. God, please.”

Chris grabbed her from him, her shaking body covered in her thin sheep-decorated pajamas with her bare feet sticking out from the legs of the bottoms, toes curled helplessly. He hugged her tightly, her heaving chest warm against his, and took her inside as she sobbed. Joey followed, wiping at his face with his hands.

“Shh, sweetheart,” Chris whispered, patting her back as she wailed, though she was losing the urgency she’d had when he first opened the door. So he walked around with her, watching as Joey deflated onto the couch, head in his hands. After about fifteen minutes, Brianna had calmed down to wet sighs and hiccups, head on Chris’s shoulder as she sucked her thumb. Chris kept rubbing her back, pacing the room.

“I messed up,” Joey said quietly. “I thought I was doing what was best for her.”

Chris didn’t say anything, just shifted Brianna in his arms then quieted her again when she started squeaking, like she was afraid he was going to let go of her. If anything, he held her tighter, running his fingers through her soft, curly hair. He kissed her temple.

“She’s been calling me daddy for a while, you know. Da-ee. A month or two. Yesterday night, she starts calling for Da, and I can’t figure it out. By midnight, she’s screaming. I take her to the doctor’s, convinced she’s dying, but she’s fine.” Joey wrung his hands together, still crying. He was throwing out the words with wet gasps of air. “I phone Kelly, but she can’t get back from New York. And then, I realise, she’s calling for you.”

Chris dropped his head into the crook of Brianna’s neck. She smelled like warm baby powder, and she sighed in his ear, a full body shiver. “I’m sorry about that,” Chris said finally. “I didn’t know she’d start thinking like that.”

“Kelly hates you,” Joey said.

“I know.”

“She didn’t want me seeing you. And she kept saying these things, all this stuff. Like if people found out. Us, we’re not legal in this state. What we do, they could arrest us for it. My custody of Brianna is so fragile. One mistake, and I lose it.” Joey shook his fingers through his hair, tightening them against his scalp, and Chris reached out to untangle them, taking Joey’s hand in his. Joey looked up. “I don’t know what to do, Chris. I want to be with you, I’m happy with you, but Kelly, man. She hates you. She doesn’t want you raising her kid. But she’s not a bad person. I loved her for a long time, so I know she isn’t. I don’t understand why she’s doing this. Me and Brianna, we’re so happy with you. She’s not gonna care that she has two daddies, but Kelly. God, I don’t know how to handle this, Chris.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Chris said, letting Joey pull his arm away. “I’ll beg if I have to.”

Joey scrubbed his hands across his face. “It wasn’t supposed to come to this.”

“It’ll be fine. I mean, we’re in love, right? Shit’s gotta work out. I can’t take much more of this,” Chris admitted, trying to smile. Instead, he wore a strange mix of deep melancholy and intense giddiness. He squished Brianna with his arms, and she looked at him, scrunching up her face, so he kissed the tip of her nose. She smiled hesitantly, thumb between her lips as she put her head back down, quiet now. “You gonna stay over? You look tired.”

“You still have the playpen?” Joey asked, and Chris nodded. But when Joey went to take Brianna from him, she started crying again, moving away from him. Joey pinched his lips together and stepped back, his eyes glassy and wet.

“She’s just mad,” Chris said quietly. “You go get some sleep.”

Joey nodded, tugging on his beard, and Chris stopped him before he left the room, kissing him quickly then holding up Brianna so Joey could kiss her cheek, and she let him. “There’s a letter,” Chris said, “on the hallway table. I wrote it to you. I was gonna beg you to take me back. It’s pretty funny. I was really drunk for most of it.”

Joey touched Chris’s jaw with his finger. “You’re a freak, man.”

“So I’ve been told,” Chris said.

~..~

All I want, all I need
We all really need love

~..~

It wasn’t that Chris intended to be weird. It just happened. He’d been like this for as long as he could remember: over the top, too much, clinically insane. It made him appreciate his mother more, because if he’d had a kid like he was, he would have left him on the side of road and run far, far away. Deep down, he suspected he was really pretty normal, but it just got swallowed up by the mania that controlled his life.

Also, Chris wasn’t afraid of begging. People thought he should be, and even he thought he should have more pride than that, but the fact was, begging got him places working hard or being patient never had. It got him free food from the grocer, who couldn’t say no to a scruffy kid asking for soiled fruit, or the contract with Lou, which had involved selling his soul, literally and figuratively. So Chris knew how to beg, had been doing it his whole life.

Kelly’s house was small but endearing, old brick with ivy crawling up the sides. She owned it, paid for it with her own money, and only took money from Joey if it had to do with Brianna. What she did, Chris wasn’t sure, but she worked and she worked hard. He had to admire her, even if she hated him. Sometimes, these things just couldn’t be helped.

He rang the bell and waited. Chris felt like there should have been music playing in the background, something daunting and foreboding, so he hummed the Imperial March under his breath. When the doorhandle twitched, Chris stopped and waited, dread creeping up in his throat. Just because he knew how to beg didn’t mean he particularly liked doing it.

Kelly sighed when she saw him. “You won’t leave even if I tell you to, will you?”

“Nope,” Chris said.

She didn’t invite him in but closed the door behind her, so Chris didn’t complain. At least she was there; that was something. Chris had a letter for her in his pocket, only a few pages long and handwritten, but if his mouth finally failed him, he’d give it to her as a last ditch attempt. Joey, despite all outward appearances, was a big reader, liked to curl up with Shakespeare or Tennessee Williams and let the words convince him. Chris really didn’t know Kelly at all.

“I need to know why you hate me,” Chris said, leaning against the fence that enclosed the porch, painted a shade of off-white that pulled out the colour of the flowers blooming all around them. Chris thought about complimenting them, but he knew if he said anything more than the bare minimum he would screw things up.

Kelly sat down on the front step and looked up. “I hate all of you; you’re just the one that noticed. Even Lance,” she added, “and he’s the godfather of my daughter, so I guess that doesn’t say much. Of course, you seem hell bent on being a father to my child.”

“I love her,” Chris said, “and I love Joey.”

Kelly’s face tightened. “But I don’t like you, Chris.”

“You want Joey to be miserable for the rest of his life, then? I don’t get you,” Chris admitted, rubbing his palms over his thighs, the fabric of jeans thick and rough. He stared at his hands because he was too chickenshit to look at Kelly. “Or it is just me?”

Kelly rubbed her face wearily, bracing her thumb and her index fingers against her forehead. “It’s just you.” Kelly shook her head, smiling bitterly to herself. “I’ve been fighting for his attention ever since the four of you came onto the scene. I was there first, but I am never going to be first with him. This means I’ve wasted ten years of my life with a guy who has never looked at me the way he looks at you.”

“This isn’t a competition,” Chris said.

“Well, good thing it isn’t. Because I lost, didn’t I?” Kelly pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose and sighed, and if she’d been anyone else, Chris would have tried to offer some sort of comfort, but she wasn’t. She wouldn’t have appreciated it, anyway, and he didn’t blame her. “You mean what you say – that you won’t leave him or my baby girl?”

“Unless it all goes to shit for reasons I can’t control,” Chris said carefully.

Kelly closed her eyes and looked pained. “I’ll tolerate you, Chris. And I won’t stand in the way, but I’ll never like you, any of you, and I just might hate you the most. You can go back to Joey and tell him that. I wish I could hate him, too. But I can’t.”

Chris didn’t like melancholy endings, really. He’d had enough of them to accept them wordlessly as something he couldn’t control, but he didn’t like them. This was more than melancholy, though, this was maudlin and tragic and unfair, but Chris never forced Joey to pick him, hadn’t even known Kelly was still in the picture, at least in her mind. That was what he told himself to feel better about the whole thing, anyway.

~..~

I need love

~..~

Lance’s absence was a dull ache Chris didn’t really pay much attention to until he saw him again the three nights before he was going to be shot off into the cosmos. Sure, he’d been aware he wasn’t there, but Justin had been traipsing around the country doing solo stuff for months, and JC was too involved in Tony, music, and Tony and music that Chris hadn’t seen him more than once or twice a week. But the minute they were all together again, Chris felt the void painfully.

They arrived on different flights, Joey and Chris from Orlando and Justin and JC from LA, and much to Chris’s delight, it was snowing in Russia. He missed winter, sometimes, and though he wasn’t sure how willing he was to live in it again, but the occasional visit was nice. Chris and Joey were driven to where Lance was staying, some official place with fences and security guards.

“We’re here to see Major Tom,” Chris said to the Russian at the gate.

“Lance Bass,” Joey said, elbowing Chris through the parka. Chris grinned.

They walked to Lance’s apartment then knocked on the door. The poor guy opened it without realising Joey and Chris had a plan to knock him to the ground, and they were all tangled up and laughing within the seconds. Right then, Chris felt the pain and remembered why he liked Lance so much. Lance returned the hug just as strong.

“Look at you, Bass, Mr. Muscles,” Chris said, feeling his arms. They were rock solid.

“I am so glad that you’re here,” Lance replied.

They did it all again when JC and Justin showed up, dog-piling on the floor of Lance’s small living room, chatting at each other and hugging, and Chris scrubbed his knuckles over any scalp presented to him. With a group sigh, they all relax into a knot and stared at Lance’s stained white ceiling. Chris smiled to himself. Together again, he thought, and hummed under his breath. Pretty soon, they were all singing, messing up the words, but it was awesome.

Later, they sat around and ate pizza that Lance and Joey had made from scratch in the kitchen. Chris didn’t like his own slice, so he kept picking at Joey’s until he could steal it. Joey smirked at him then kissed him, right smack on the lips, and Chris grinned, using the distraction of his sheer sexiness to finally snatch the slice.

“Um. What the fuck?” Justin asked.

Chris looked at Joey, and Joey shrugged.

“You two just kissed, for one,” Lance said slowly.

“Well, duh,” Chris said, rolling his eyes. “We’ve only been dating for, like, what, six months, Joe? Something like that.” Chris counted quickly on his fingers then grinned. “Hey. It’s almost been seven months. Wow. Dude, you need to take me someplace nice to wine and dine me then trick me into bed with your cunning wiles.”

“You’ve been together for seven months,” Justin said, “and you never thought to tell me?”

Chris looked at him blankly. “You knew. At Challenge, dude. We were so obvious.”

“No, you weren’t, and no, I didn’t,” Justin said, and he was starting to sound a bit snappish. Lance nodded.

“I knew,” JC said, and scrunched down under the glares Lance and Justin shot him. Chris, himself, was delighted by this turn of events. It took a lot to shock Lance Bass, even more to shock Justin Timberlake, and yet, there they both were, looking stupid and confused.

“We’re in love, or something,” Joey said proudly, and Chris beamed at him.

“You two?” Lance asked, squinting. “Seriously? I thought Joey was straight.”

“So did I,” Joey admitted, “but no problems there.”

“He’s a tiger in the sack,” Chris said, and growled, swiping his claws. Lance was slowly starting to smile, and Justin looked less like Chris was pulling his leg in an epic practical joke. Chris slapped a hand over Joey’s knee and squeezed. That seemed to be the end of it, though Lance and Justin continued to watch them curiously. Chris thought about going down on Joey in the living room, just to see the reaction.

A few mornings later, they all got dressed up to help Lance’s parents take Lance to the space shuttle, or as far as they could get until security stopped them. It was then, and only then, that Chris started crying, quietly and barely leaking at all, but inside, he could feel the tears drowning him. JC sobbed dramatically while Justin went the typical Timberlake route and cried beautifully. Joey cried as he held all three of them in a group hug as Lance waved goodbye, being pushed along by Jim and Diane. There was a moment where Chris thought Lance was going to turn around and run back to them, but he didn’t.

~..~

I need love

~..~

Chris sat back one day and thought he really liked his life. Like, really, really liked where he was and what he was doing, and who he was doing it with. This realisation came to him on a beach, the smell of salt wafting in from the roll of the ocean, the waves crashing against the shore. Inhaling deeply, he smiled to himself and watched Brianna toddle cautiously at the edge of the water, Joey with his jeans rolled up and standing in it. Smiling, Chris stood up to join them.

“Is Daddy teasing you?” Chris asked, crouching down behind Brianna, and she grinned at him, holding out her arms. He picked her up, kissing her cheek, then waded into the water, the edges of his shorts already dark. It was cold, but the sand felt great as it squished between his toes. Carefully, Chris lowered Brianna until her feet dipped into the water, and she shrieked.

“Now I think you’re teasing her,” Joey said, laughing.

“Which one of you threw her into the ocean at a young age and helped feed this phobia?” Chris asked, skimming his hand over the surface and spraying Joey’s knees. Brianna quieted down to watch then smacked her hand at the water, and Chris beamed. “Look at that.”

“Of all the people to idolise, it has to be you.” Joey knelt down and held a hand out to Brianna, and she reached for him cautiously. Chris took the opportunity to lower her up to her knees in the water, and she glared at him. Joey took one hand, Chris took the other, and they helped her stand in the ocean. “She gets bigger every day, man.”

“Yeah,” Chris said and let Joey pick her up before she hated them both. Joey nuzzled her face until she was grinning again, legs leaving huge dark stains on Joey’s shirt. Chris watched Brianna smile to herself then lean her head on Joey’s shoulder, popping her thumb into her mouth. Chris started to walk to the shore, before his legs turned completely to ice, and Joey followed, splashing at Chris’s heels. They sat in the sand, Brianna on Joey’s lap, Chris behind them. When it started getting dark, Chris got up to build a fire, careful of where Brianna was, but she seemed quite settled against Joey. He smiled at Joey, and Joey’s eyes sparkled in the settling dark.

“It weirds me out that Lance is up there, being a space man,” Chris said.

“La?” Brianna asked.

Joey pointed to the sky. “Up there, bug.”

“Oh,” she said and sat back, and Joey ruffled her hair with his fingers.

“You got it, dude?” Chris asked when the fire was roaring bright and big.

“It’s in my bag,” Joey said, and Chris nodded, opening the knapsack and rooting through the bags of cookies and boxes of juice until he found the envelope. Carefully, he slid out the proposal and admired the cover. It really was something else, Chris’s opus or something, but they didn’t need it anymore and Joey was still a bit weirded out by its existence. He said, “you never need to sell yourself to me, Chris, ever. Okay?” And Chris agreed because, really, he was so much better in practise than in theory, anyway.

“Proposal, you got me laid and gave me a pretty decent boyfriend with an equally decent kid. Some drama but then, I create it wherever I go. So, seriously. Thanks for the sex and the ready-made family and all the exciting times,” Chris said solemnly, holding it up in his hands. Behind him, Joey laughed, and Chris turned to look at him, grinning. “You want to do it or should I?”

“You’re there. Be my guest,” Joey said.

Chris tossed the paper into the flames then sat down next to Joey, tucked against him. There were probably photographers everywhere, so Chris didn’t do anything but lean against him and watch as the paper blackened, curling in on itself. Chris saluted then laughed as Brianna mimicked him, leaning up to kiss her on the head.

“This is good,” Chris said.

“Yep,” Joey replied.

Chris didn’t like being in love, but he needed it like he needed air, like JC needed music or Lance needed space, or a hundred other trite metaphors that fit the swelling desire in him. Sometimes, it was the worst thing ever. love. It left him broken and bitter and ugly, but sometimes. Well, sometimes it looked like Joey.

Chris figured there were worse things in life.

~..~

I need love