Marshall pulled his mouth away from AJ’s bare stomach and sat back on his heels between the younger man’s jean-clad legs as the doorbell rang. “Motherfucker. The pizza wasn’t supposed to get here that fucking fast. When the hell does pizza ever come early?”
AJ chuckled and pulled himself up to a sitting position on the couch, yanking down his shirt from where Marshall had shoved it up on his chest. It was almost a week later and they were at Marshall’s house now instead of AJ’s. AJ’s mom had left after a couple days, heading back to Florida, and AJ and Marshal had moved to the older man’s house since he was still working on a couple tracks for the soundtrack to his movie and needed to do that at his in-home recording studio.
Marshall scowled at AJ. “What’s so fucking funny?”
AJ chuckled again at the frustrated look on his boyfriend’s face. “Nothing. Just, you’d think you were the one about to get a blowjob here and got interrupted.”
Without warning, Marshall lurched into AJ, knocking him flat on his back on the couch. Not giving him time to react, Marshall shifted so their erections were pressed against each other and leaned in to attack the side of AJ’s neck, licking and sucking as he ground his hips into him. When AJ started moaning and grinding up into him in response, Marshall pulled his mouth away from his neck and flicked his tongue out at his earlobe.
Grinding his already throbbing erection down into the younger man one more time, Marshall asked in a husky voice, “Feel that? That’s how much it fucking turns me on to suck your cock. Got a problem with that?”
“Fuck no.” AJ muttered breathlessly, completely lost in the moment.
Marshall pulled back a little and looked down into AJ’s glazed over eyes. He licked his lips and leaned down, intent on capturing AJ’s mouth for a kiss, but the harsh sound of his doorbell once again broke the moment and he cursed the delivery boy six ways to Sunday as he pulled himself back again and stood up. AJ sat up slowly, adjusting himself inside his pants as he looked up at Marshall doing the same.
With a conspiratorial grin on his face, he asked casually, “Have any objections to cold pizza?”
Marshall looked down at him, then broke into a grin too and shook his head. “Nope. That’s what microwaves are for.”
The doorbell rang yet again, and Marshall stomped off in the direction of the door, muttering, “He’s gonna be the first delivery boy in history not to get a tip cuz he did his job too fucking well.”
Behind him he could hear AJ laughing on the couch and his scowl deepened. Stalking over to the door, he yanked it open as he growled, “You fuckers said thirty goddamn minutes and it hasn’t even been ten…”
Marshall’s voice trailed off as he looked up and saw it wasn’t the pizza guy after all. It was D-12. All of them. His stomach lurched slightly, thinking of AJ in the other room and worried this was some sort of intervention and AJ was going to get stuck in the middle.
“Leave it to you Slim, to bitch because someone’s doing their job too well.” Denaun said lightly from behind Harry and Rondell, trying to break some of the sudden tension.
Marshall scowled. “Yeah, well, I was fucking busy. Speaking of which…”
He didn’t get to a chance to finish his sentence as the group as a whole suddenly decided to step inside without an invitation.
Pete was next to speak, rubbing his stomach and asking, “Dawg, tell me you were waiting for pizza.”
Marshall sighed as he closed the door behind the men now standing in his entryway. “Yeah, I was waiting for pizza. Why?”
Pete’s face broke out into a grin. “Cuz, can’t have a coming out party without food can we? Give me the number. I’ll call them back and add a few onto the order.”
Marshall stood gape-mouthed for a full minute as the guys stared at him with varying expressions on their face. Four of them looked amused that they’d actually managed to shock him speechless, and one, Harry to be exact, looked uncomfortable as hell and ready to bolt. As if sensing that, Swift shot out a hand and rested it on Harry’s shoulder to hold him in place.
Finally Marshall found his voice and asked, “A coming out party? What the fuck are you talking about?”
Harry snorted and shook off Swift’s hand. “That’s what I said. This is fucked up. I’m outta here.”
Denaun had anticipated the action though and moved in front of the door, blocking Harry’s path. “Uh uh. You’re part of this group and your ass is staying put.”
Harry stared him down for a minute, but quickly realized Denaun wasn’t going to back down. Scowling, he spat, “Fine. I’ll fucking stay. We can all sit around painting our nails and talking about which guys are hot all fucking night for all I care.”
A new voice from the doorway to the kitchen caught everyone’s attention. “Glad to hear it, because my nails are about due for a third coat. Marshall was just about to lay one on me when you guys interrupted.”
Marshall fought the smirk that covered his face unsuccessfully as he took in AJ, casually leaning with one shoulder against the doorjamb studying his black polished fingernails as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Marshall knew him better than that though. He knew he was freaking out at the thought of facing all them at once, especially after how Harry and Pete had reacted the other day, but to his credit, not an ounce of that tension showed outwardly, which made Marshall want to walk over and take him right there, audience be damned.
Pete blinked and turned to Marshall. “You were really painting his nails?”
Marshall snorted. Pete could be dense sometimes, but he loved him anyway. They had been best friends for years, and Marshall was pretty sure it had been Pete that had instigated this little get together to get the whole ‘Marshall’s bisexual’ issue out of the way so they could go back to being a group and hanging out again.
“Yeah, Pete. I was. After that, we were planning on bleaching each other’s hair too.”
Pete’s eyes widened for a minute, before he caught on to Marshall’s teasing tone, then he smiled and said, “Yeah, like you’d let anyone else bleach your hair.”
“Yeah, his fixation on his looks should have been our first clue he’s a pansy.” Harry muttered half to himself.
Before he knew what hit him, Harry found himself shoved back against the wall, Marshall in front of him, his forearm pressed against his chest, holding him there. He looked into Marshall’s ice cold stare and swallowed…hard.
“You’re in my fucking house Harry. Don’t fucking ridicule me in my own goddamn house or this ‘pansy’ is gonna kick your ass. Got it?” Marshall warned in a cold, hard voice that left no doubt as to the seriousness of the threat.
After a minute of tense silence, Harry ground out between clenched teeth, “Fine. Mouth shut. Got it.”
Marshall released him and backed off, wishing there was a way to just make them all leave, but knowing he couldn’t, not if he still wanted them as friends when all was said and done.
Pete cleared his throat and asked, “Marshall, dude, number for the pizza place?”
Marshall waved in the general direction of the kitchen. “Just hit the redial.”
Pete nodded and headed off toward the kitchen. When he reached AJ, AJ stepped aside to let him through, and Pete flashed him a smile of thanks, taking him off guard.
Marshall caught the exchange and felt the first stirrings of hope that this little get together was for real, and not some fucked up attempt at an intervention. He looked around at the other guys, noticing that besides Harry, they didn’t look particularly disgusted or pissed off at him for being with AJ.
Swift interrupted his train of thought, asking, “So, gonna introduce us to your…boyfriend? Or are we gonna stand here all awkward and shit for the rest of the night?”
Marshall paused for a second, trying to figure out if Swift was being sincere or not. Finally deciding to take him at face value, he crossed to AJ, taking his hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze before turning back to the guys and saying, “Everyone, this is Alex. Alex, meet Swift, Denaun, and Rondell. Pete and Harry you already know.”
Alex nodded at them and said, “Hey,” to which they responded with a hey of their own.
After another moment of awkward silence, AJ cleared his throat and asked with the beginnings of a smirk, “So, did I hear right? This is Marshall’s…coming out party?”
Rondell caught the smirk and answered with one of his own. “Yeah. All we need now is to shove Em in a closet so we can all cheer and shoot silly string at him when he comes out.”
AJ snickered. “I’ve gotta see that.”
Marshall glared warningly at him. “Alex…”
AJ turned innocent eyes on his lover. “What? It sounds like fun. I never got a coming out party. I can live vicariously through you.”
Rondell took the bait and asked, “Your guys didn’t make a big deal out of it?”
AJ knew he should just keep his mouth shut, but he couldn’t resist. Except for Harry’s reaction, and Pete’s in the beginning, the rest of Marshall’s group seemed to be doing okay with the whole ‘gay’ issue. He had an irresistible urge to ruffle their feathers.
“Oh, they made a big deal out of it all right. It’s just because of the way they found out that made me ‘coming out of the closet’ unnecessary.” AJ felt Marshall’s hand grip his tighter, and resisted looking over at him, knowing if he did, he wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face.
Marshall meanwhile was doing his damnedest to keep his own face straight, knowing AJ was building to something, and pretty sure he knew what.
Denaun stood next to Rondell and studied AJ for a second, then asked, “I know I’m fucking going to regret asking this, but…how did they find out?”
AJ bit the inside of his mouth to keep his face straight. When that failed, he turned away from them, under the pretense of heading for the living room, and shrugged as he said over his shoulder, “Oh, they just walked in on me naked and riding JC on the hotel room couch.”
Three jaws dropped, not knowing what to say to that. Marshall snickered at their reactions and moved to follow AJ to the other room. Rondell recovered first and started after AJ asking, “JC? Nshit JC?”
At AJ’s chuckle and nod, Denaun commented, “I knew it! That boy’s too pretty to be straight.”
~ ~&~ ~ ~&~ ~ ~&~ ~
A couple hours and four pizzas later, they were in Marshall’s game room with the stereo cranked, having a pool tournament. AJ and Denaun had been the first to face off, and when Denaun lost, AJ had moved on to Rondell, making short work of him, and then Swift after him. Now he was facing Pete and about to win yet again.
Marshall lost patience when Pete re-lined up his shot for the sixth time. “Pete, man, just fucking make the shot. You know he’s gonna win.”
AJ smirked at Marshall’s impatience. “That eager to get your ass beat blondie?”
Marshall snorted. “Not likely.”
AJ deliberately misunderstood and nodded, saying, “Not eager to get beat. That’s good. It’ll make beating you that much more fun.”
Marshall and AJ shot challenging looks at each other for a minute, the air charged between them. Finally Marshall spoke, “How about we make it interesting?”
AJ quirked a brow. “Oh? What did you have in mind?”
Marshall shrugged. “I win, you do something I want…to be named later, you win, I do something you want…also to be named later.”
AJ felt himself stir. He immediately knew what he was going to ask for too. “Deal. Pete, make the shot. I’ve got someone’s ass to kick.”
Pete finally gave up trying to find a way to make the shot work and just hit the ball. Immediately AJ stepped up to the table and lined up to shoot the last of his balls, sinking it and the eight ball in one shot. Turning back to Marshall, he said confidently, “Rack ‘em up.”
Half an hour later, they were still playing. Marshall was down to two balls left, AJ three. The music had been shut off during one particularly hairy shot Marshall had had to make. Specifically, he’d yelled at Pete to shut the stereo off or he’d get his balls ripped off and fed to him. Pete, although a good hundred and fifty pounds or more heavier than him and not likely in any real danger of Marshall actually doing that to him, wisely shut off the stereo anyway…just in case.
Both men stared at the table in intense concentration. They’d never competed against each other at anything before right then, and were finding out just how intensely competitive the other was. With the other guys, AJ hadn’t had a real challenge. They hadn’t been great pool players, and he’d even given Rondell a handicap and still won.
Marshall was a different story though. He was good and he was determined to win, which made AJ wonder all the more what he planned on making him do if he did. Not that he would, AJ told himself. He had every intention of kicking his butt, but just in case Marshall did, AJ wanted to be prepared. When he’d asked though, Marshall had firmly refused to talk about it, saying it was part of the deal that it was named later. AJ interpreted from that it was something sexual, which he couldn’t really complain about since what he intended to have Marshall do was sexual in nature too.
AJ pulled free from his thoughts as Marshall leaned over the table and lined up a particularly awkward shot. AJ held his breath as the older man pulled his cue stick back and jabbed it forward, only releasing the air trapped in his lungs when the shot missed.
Marshall jerked back from the table cursing under his breath as the ball ricocheted off the side of the pool table a mere centimeter off target. AJ only had three balls left, and the likelihood of him loosing now was close to nil.
It wasn’t that Marshall was worried about whatever it was AJ was going to make him do, he trusted him enough to be sure it wouldn’t be anything he was opposed to, he’d just really wanted to win because he had a fantasy he’d been looking forward to living out with the other man, but wasn’t sure how to bring it up. The bet was supposed to have given him the perfect excuse.
AJ tried to hide his grin as he stepped up to the table. It was his now, he was sure of it. The three balls he had to knock in were in easy positions. Only the eight ball looked like it might be difficult.
A minute later, he had proved himself right and sunk the three balls. All that was left was the eight ball. As he lined up the shot, the room went deathly quiet, unnerving him slightly. He was used to noise when he played, not eerie quiet with six sets of eyes watching him.
For a second he almost burst out into nervous laughter and had to bite his lower lip to stop it as he thought about that. Not being used to quiet and staring was the least of what was weird about the whole thing. He, Mr. Backstreet Boy, was in Marshall Mather’s house, with all of D-12, playing pool against the blond rapper, who was his boyfriend no less, for sexual favors. Life didn’t get any stranger than that.
Lost in his thoughts, he tensed when Marshall came up next to him and asked close to his ear, “Gonna make the shot, or stare at it all night?”
AJ turned and smirked at him. “Why? That anxious to pay up?”
Marshall smirked back. “No, that anxious to make you pay, bitch.”
AJ’s eyes heated. “Not gonna happen…bitch.”
With that he turned back to the pool table and took his shot. All eyes in the room watched it fly toward its target, hitting it dead on and disappearing in the pocket. AJ jumped up in the air with a loud whoop of joy. He loved winning even when there was no reason in particular to do it and the bet he’d just won made it even better.
Marshall cursed and tossed his pool stick down on the velvet of the pool table, turning around and leaning his butt back against the side of it before turning his head and locking eyes with AJ. “So…what the fuck do I have to do?”
AJ shot him a heated look. “You’ll find out…later.”
Marshall had to fight the physical reaction in his pants to what AJ had just said, or rather, how he’d said it. “Shit.”
Swift cleared his throat and nodded to Pete to start the stereo back up. It was one thing to know Marshall was with a guy, it was another to watch them exchange heated looks and know what they would be doing right then if the rest of them weren’t around, and he just didn’t need that visual. By the way Pete leapt at the stereo in his haste to turn it on and the relief on the other’s faces, he was fairly sure the rest of the guys felt the same way.
A minute later, one of D-12’s songs, Purple Pills was blasting out of the stereo and they were coaxing Marshall into rapping his part. AJ’s face broke out in a grin as he watched Marshall walk toward the center of the room half dancing with the beat, half rapping the lyrics while the other’s danced around him and waited for their parts.
AJ was glad things seemed to be all right with his group. Marshall had been stressed out about it the past few days since the incident at the party with Pete and Harry. He hadn’t said much about it, and the couple times AJ had brought it up he’d quickly changed the subject, but it had been an underlying tone in their relationship since then.
AJ knew Marshall had been hurt by their reactions, more Harry’s than Pete’s since Pete had made an attempt to try to accept it in the end. Now it was obvious that attempt had been genuine, since tonight on more than one occasion Pete had included AJ in on the conversation and treated him like one of the guys. The others had too for that matter. The only one still apparently bitter about it was Harry, and AJ had his theories on why.
As he thought more about it, his eyes flickered over to the man in question, who was currently rapping his part in the song. When Harry got through, AJ watched him back away a little at a time toward the door, not taking his eyes off Marshall. AJ was fairly certain he knew what that look in the other man’s eyes was, and when Harry finally made it out the door without being noticed, AJ decided to go have a talk with him about it. Glancing back toward Marshall who was wrapped up in the song and his friends, AJ slipped out of the room too and headed in the direction he figured Harry had gone.
Minutes later, he found the other man out back near the pool, staring up at the sky. Quietly, AJ slipped out through the sliding glass doors and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it as he approached Harry.
Harry jumped when he heard the click of the lighter, and turned, his eyes opening wide when he saw who was out there with him. “I came out here to be alone.”
AJ didn’t waver at the bitterness in Harry’s voice. “I came out here to smoke, and since I can’t smoke in Marshall’s house, I had to come here. You want to be alone, go somewhere else.”
Harry looked away and sneered derisively. “Doesn’t let you smoke in the house huh? I’m sure you could get away with it if you dropped to your knees for him afterwards.”
AJ ignored the cruel jab in favor of making one of his own. “Yeah, well, I have respect for his feelings, you should try it sometime.”
In a flash Harry was in front of AJ, grabbing his shirt and yanking him toward him. With their faces mere inches away, he ground out, “I’m not going to stand here and listen while some whackstreet bitch lectures me on respect.”
AJ’s stomach did somersaults as he wondered if Marshall would hear him scream for him over the blaring music if Harry actually hit him. Still, he refused to let the other man know how much he was intimidating him. With deliberately slow movements, he ignored the fact that Harry had his fists in his shirt, and lifted his cigarette to his lips, taking a long draw off it, then blowing it out right in Harry’s face.
Harry let go of him, shoving him backwards as he choked and coughed on the smoke. AJ stumbled back a few steps, then held his ground as he waited for Harry to stop sputtering and sucking in air. Feeling brave, stupidly brave, AJ stepped in close to Harry as the other man got his breathing back under control.
With their faces inches apart, AJ said in a hard voice, “Then listen to this. He’s mine.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed and his fists clenched at his sides with the effort not to hit the other man. “What the fuck are you talking about.”
“The fact that you want his ass.” AJ said bluntly.
“Fuck you.” Harry’s fist flew at AJ’s face, but AJ was prepared and jumped back out of reach.
“Truth hurt?” AJ asked, unsure why he felt the need to continue to goad the other man. Somewhere in the back of his mind though he acknowledged it might possibly be jealousy and possessiveness driving him.
“I don’t want Marshall’s ass. I’m not a fucking fag like you.” Harry spat, contemplating hitting AJ again.
AJ studied him for a moment while taking another drag of his cigarette. “I think you do. I think you’ve wanted him for a while, you were just too chicken shit to say anything about it because you thought he was completely straight, and now that you know he isn’t, you’re pissed you missed your chance. That about right?”
Harry started for AJ, deciding the ass beating he’d get later from Marshall for beating up his boyfriend would be worth the momentary pleasure of bashing the boyband bitch’s face in. A familiar voice stopped him dead in his tracks though just as he’d taken a step forward.
“Harry!” Marshall said harshly to get the other man’s attention. He’d been standing in the doorway for a couple minutes, letting the two men hash it out and was only intervening now because AJ had been about to get his ass kicked.
Harry turned toward Marshall, swallowing hard, sure he was about to pay for going after AJ, even if he hadn’t actually hit him yet.
After a tense minute of silence, Marshall spoke again. “Is that true?”
“What?” Harry asked, trying to stall for time. He’d been hoping Marshall hadn’t heard what AJ had said.
“What Alex said. You…want me?” Marshall’s stomach was balled in a knot. He could tell even without an answer from the other man that AJ had hit the nail on the head. He couldn’t believe he’d never seen it for himself.
AJ looked back and forth between the two men, deciding this was something they needed to talk about alone. Stubbing out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, he headed for the house, pausing by Marshall and putting his hand on his shoulder. “I’ll give you guys some time, okay?”
Marshall glanced at him and shot him a grateful smile. “Yeah, just uh, tell the others we’ll be in in a little while.”
AJ nodded and disappeared inside.
Marshall and Harry looked warily at each other for a long time before Harry’s shoulders finally slumped in defeat and he turned away. “I didn’t want you to find out. Thought you’d think I was sick.” He paused and laughed ironically. “Guess I didn’t have to worry about that huh?”
“How long?” Marshall asked in a quiet voice.
Harry just shrugged. “Long enough.”
Marshall accepted that, and asked, “That’s why you’ve been acting the way you have about me and Alex?”
Harry turned pained eyes on him. “Yeah. I just…it pisses me off. I don’t get it. Why him?”
Marshall’s opened his mouth and almost blurted, ‘Because I love him.’ When the realization of it hit him though, he clamped his mouth shut and turned away, muttering, “Holy fuck,” to himself.
Harry looked at him in confusion for a second, then understanding as it dawned on him what Marshall had probably been about to say. “You…love him, don’t you?”
“Yes...No! Fuck…I…” Marshall trailed off, staring out at the night sky at a loss. After a minute of silence, he mumbled, “How the fuck did this happen. I’m not supposed to feel that way about him.”
Harry set aside his own feelings for a minute, something he should have done from the beginning, and focused on Marshall’s obvious distress. “What are you supposed to feel for him?”
Marshall sighed. “Friendship, lust…you know, the usual relationship shit. Just not love. I swore after Kim I wouldn’t feel that again for anyone. You know that.”
Harry nodded, once again wanting to beat Kim’s ass for how badly she’d fucked Marshall up emotionally. “Yeah, I know.”
Marshall took a deep breath and turned to Harry, studying the other man’s features for a minute, wondering what he would have done if the other man had told him how he felt about him before AJ had come along. He just wasn’t sure. He had too much swimming around in his head concerning AJ and the fact that he was in love with him to be able to rationally think about anything else.
“You don’t need to be hearing this though. Sorry. I’m not trying to rub anything in, you know that right?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah I know.” After a short pause, he added, “Listen. I’m sorry about how I’ve been acting. Feel free to kick my ass, I deserve it after all the shit I’ve been saying.”
Marshall shook his head. “It’s okay man. I get why now. Just wish you’d told me instead of me having to find out this way.”
Harry looked properly chagrined. “Won’t happen again.”
Marshall nodded, sensing the end of the conversation was at hand, and more than a little relieved. “Good. We’d better get back, or they’ll come out here looking for us.”
“I’ll be in in a minute.” Harry said, turning away and staring out at the night.
Marshall nodded again and headed for the house. With his hand on the handle, he glanced back at the other man and said, “And Harry?”
Harry turned to Marshall. “Yeah?”
“If you ever lay a hand on Alex, I’m gonna beat your ass into the ground.” Marshall said with a hard edge to his voice.
Harry smiled faintly in acknowledgement, even as his stomach knotted slightly. He didn’t doubt Marshall’s threat for an instant. “Wouldn’t expect any less, Slim.”
With that Marshall stepped inside, waiting until he was far enough away from the sliding glass doors so that Harry wouldn’t see him, then slumped against the wall. In love. He was in love with AJ. Again he wondered how the fuck that had happened. Closing his eyes, he thought back and realized whenever it was, it had been before the other night when he’d let AJ fuck him. He’d known even then, although he’d been in denial at the time, that he never would have let him near him that way if he hadn’t been in love with him.
He sighed in frustration as he realized he couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment. It had just been something that had come about slowly, in stages. Closing his eyes, he slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, knees bent up in front of him, elbows resting on his knees, head in his hands.
Now that he knew he was in love again, despite swearing he’d never let that happen, the question was, what was he going to do about it?
Chapter Thirty-Five
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