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Chris watched with fascination as J.C. left the hotel room. 'God, look at that ass,' he thought. Chris quickly looked around as if afraid someone heard his thoughts. 'Stop it Chris, just knock it off. You don't swing that way.' But he wasn't so sure. These new thoughts were scaring him. "So I'll see you guys at what time?" Joey asked, hand on the doorframe. Lance stepped forward. "At eight. Why am I the only one that can remember these things?" he asked. They looked at Chris as the older man watched from the bed. "Good movie Chris, maybe we'll have to listen to you more often." Joey laughed. "Or not." "Hey man, Dumb and Dumber is a classic. You can't go wrong with a classic," Chris half smiled. His concentration left with J.C. Joey rolled his eyes as Lance followed him out. A 'whatever' echoed in the hall as Chris got up to close the door. Justin had fallen asleep half way through the movie. Chris didn't blame him; they'd seen the movie ten million times. Justin was lying with his head at the foot of the bed, on his stomach and Chris opted to leave him there. He was suppose to be sharing a room with Joey but Chris was glad to have the not so…was loud the word?…band mate in the same room again. He and Joey were almost always paired up when they had to share a room. Chris was glad this time it was Justin and the kid was asleep already. Chris went to his Orlando Magic duffel bag and pulled out a spiral notebook. The notebook was serving as his journal, and had been for a few weeks now. Ever since he had needed someone to talk to that wouldn't talk back. Sometimes Chris was protective of the duffel bag that held his sacred thoughts, but the others were either too busy or to loyal to read the notebook, IF they found it. Today was one of their precious days off and Chris hadn't even bothered to get dressed fully. After striping off his gray T-shirt, he sat on the bed in his black sweatpants. While his outfit was comfortable, it mis-matched terribly and the sweatpants sagged. But that wasn't his fault. The shortness came in his genetic makeup and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. 'Sounds convincing,' he told himself with a small smile. Justin mumbled something and rolled over. Chris watched, hoping the blonde didn't wake up. If left undisturbed, Justin would sleep for 12 hours straight. Chris had timed him. "Thank you," Chris whispered to himself. His heart began to slow as he picked up a black pen. Being the energetic one, Chris always needed something to do, even when he was writing. A nasty pen-chewing habit had developed not long after being out on the road, resulting in his own personal mountain of mangled pens that the others didn't want to touch. With a sigh, Chris began writing. 'October 12, 2000. God I don't know what's happening to me. I'm getting worse. I know I'm straight, I have a girlfriend for Christ's sakes, but we don't see each other and I don't find myself missing her. I'm so confused. I can't tell anyone. They'll hate me, I know. I feel dirty when they make gay jokes. It hurts, like they are directing those comments on me. Like they know. How can they know, I don't even know. Do I act funny? Can they tell by those glimpses I spend on J.C.'s dancing? I watch any of them for that matter. But it's normal right? I mean, humans are contact creatures, we need other human beings to survive. Everyone looks at both sexes. It's a familiarity thing. You know your best friend's body whether they are the same sex or not. It's just normal. But when do you draw the line? When does the innocent but private 'checking out' of other people turn into homosexuality? This hurts so much, I can't believe I'm even writing about this. I sit back and it all seems impossible, but I find that doubt always there, nagging me in the back of my head. But who do I go to? Who can I talk to? I'm alone, wrestling with all of this and I'm struggling more every time I sit down to write at night. Guess I'll have to figure it out on my own.Chris yawned, and set down his pen. He rubbed his cramping hand and started to reach for the light when Justin's mumbling's stopped him. "…Mommy, I'm right here!…By the beach balls and keyboards!…mommy?" Chris laughed and rolled his eyes. "Justin, you're too funny," he mumbled. Even though his writing had solved nothing, it still felt good to have put his thoughts on paper where he could actually see them. Deal with them. Maybe fix them. The light went out and Chris slid beneath the unfamiliar hotel covers. Very rarely was Chris able to sleep on his back, so the older singer rolled over, facing Justin. The soft, light blue glow of the moonlight filtered in on both their bodies, barely giving way to silhouettes. Once Chris's eyes adjusted and the room seemed to have lightened, he looked around, unable to fall asleep already. It was too early. And too soon after their last meal. Before long, Chris's eyes were traveling slowly down Justin's body. Justin was sprawled out on his stomach with one hand tucked warmly underneath him while the other was falling off the bed. Chris studied Justin's back, and the gentle curve it took before turning into a nice ass. God he wanted to jump up and give Justin a back rub right now. Just have his hands travel over that perfect backside. Even the long, muscular legs. Chris could almost feel that silky head of curls beneath his fingers. Those broad, well built shoulders… Justin rolled over onto his side so that he was facing away from Chris. Waking out of his stupor, Chris sighed and felt the tears of embarrassment well. Embarrassment and shame. How could he think like that? What was wrong with women all of a sudden? Why were his band mates coming off as attractive to him? The tears began falling as Chris rolled onto his other side with a slight rustle of the covers. This wasn't right and he knew it. He needed help. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The next morning Chris woke up and found that Justin had already started his shower. Memories of confusion from the last night flooded back to him and he sighed. What was he going to do? If this insane pressure kept up, he would have to tell the others eventually. Chris looked out the window and tried to relax. The sun was out and the gentle rays were warming his face. They had a concert tonight, so he bet the others weren't in a big hurry to wake up either. The thought of them sleeping gave Chris small goosebumps as his mind wandered. What he wouldn't give to be sleeping with- "Hey, you're up," Justin said as he walked to his duffel bag. The white hotel towel was draped low around his waist and small drops of water occasionally fell on his shoulders as he walked, dripping off his blonde mound of curls. "Yeah," Chris said softly as he watched his friend. Those feelings of lust were building up now, and while the feeling wasn't new to him, the person responsible for them was. Chris gulped and tried not to watch as a drop of water slid down Justin's flat stomach. Justin became aware of Chris's eyes on him, watching a little too close. "What?" he asked, grabbing his clothes. "Um, nothing," Chris replied, pulling himself out of bed. He had to get away. He had to stop this, stop his mixed up feelings. "I'm gonna get…something," he said, turning red as he rushed by Justin and out into the hall. Chris heard the hotel door fall shut behind him and suddenly realized where he was. 'Stupid, Chris,' he told himself, looking around the hallway. 'Go out in the hall in your boxers and never mind all the screaming teenyboppers that could be waiting.' But no one was there. Thank God. Deciding staying with Justin would be a better and less painful fate than getting eaten by young girls; Chris knocked on the door and called meekly, "Justin? I need back in." Justin came to the door and opened it part way. "Get it?" "Get what?" "Get what you ran out there for," Justin said. Chris blushed and forced his eyes to stay on Justin's face. "Um, I forgot what I came out here for," he said. "Chris are you okay?" Justin asked, opening the door. Chris brushed past Justin and slunk back to his bed. "I'm fine, why?" "I don't know," Justin shrugged, closing the door. "You seem a little jumpy I guess. Sugar high?" "Not quite," Chris sighed, burying his face in the pillow. "Whatever. You better get ready, we got a sound check in an hour." Chris sat up. "An HOUR?" He leapt out of bed and ran to get his clothes. He glanced at the clock and sure enough, it was almost one in the afternoon. "How did I sleep so late?" he asked himself out loud as he grabbed 'his' shampoo and razor. "I heard you almost all night talking to yourself. You have some pretty sad dreams, man," Justin replied as he turned on the TV. Chris froze. "I talked?" he repeated. "What did I say?" "I don’t know, I couldn't make out anything, but I thought I heard some cries. Just keep it down tonight, okay?" Justin smiled. Chris pulled his eyes off Justin's chest. "Okay, sure. Sorry," he said, then disappeared into the bathroom. |
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