"That's the last of it." Carter jumped down from the bed of his uncle's flatbed truck and extended a hand to Nick. "Thanks for the help, Carter."

"No sweat, Johnson." Nick grinned. They shook on it.

"Gonna be back next year or will you be too busy being a huge popstar to hang with us little guys?"

Nick shrugged. "We'll see."

"Dude. It's not the end of the world. Either way, you've got my e-mail and I expect to hear from you the next time you're in town. Cool?"

"Yeah, cool."

"And if you stop in Texas on your drive across America this summer?"

"I'll look you up," Nick promised.

"That's what I'm talking 'bout." Carter hoisted himself into the cab. "Take care of yourself, man."

"You too. Drive safe."

"Always."

Nick stepped back, allowing Carter and his uncle to pull out. He waved as they headed out of the parking lot.

The year was over. Carter had been stuck writing an exam in the last slot, so Nick had hung around to help him pack. He'd said his goodbyes to Phil, Darcy, Katie and the rest at a party the week before. Ceili was waiting tables at Keogh's all summer and Darcy wasn't planning to submit her thesis till September, but for all intents and purposes, Nick was the last of his friends to leave. Most of his stuff was in storage, waiting for him to come back... or to send for it if he changed his mind. He had a lot to think about.

Nick stretched the journey from New York to Florida into a ten-day-long trip. There was no real planning behind his stops, only a need to have Chris beat him home by at least a day. He was not ready to hang around his own house yet.

He stopped in small towns with odd names. He picked up guidebooks on the interstate and marked a few museums he thought would be cool to visit. He stopped in one coastal town and rented a boat. He sat on a boardwalk and sketched passersby all day.

Most afternoons he called Chris. Sometimes Chris picked up, sometimes not. Either way, Nick told him stories about his day.

"I got a call from Brian last night," Chris said on the seventh day.

"Yeah?" Nick tried his best to sound casual.

"He was wondering if you're okay. I guess you missed the monthly conference call?"

"Guess I did."

"Out of range?"

Nick sighed. "Out of ideas. I didn't know what to say."

"Oh."

Nick knew Chris had been trying really hard not to push him on his plans for the future. He wondered if Brian's call had been the last straw.

"Made a decision yet?" There was his answer.

"Been trying not to think about it," he admitted.

"Nick, I'm probably the last person who should be saying this, but do you think ignoring it will make it go away?"

"I know it won't, but..."

"And do you think pissing off your guys is a smart way to do this?"

"No, of course not, but..."

"Then call them. E-mail them. Let them know you're okay so I can stay out of the middle. It's hard enough being the supportive boyfriend here."

"Because it's so easy being on my end of this."

"You should be glad you're not on this bus right now, 'cause otherwise I'd kick your ass for that one. Snap out of it."

"Oh, yes sir. Right away, sir!"

"Know what? Call me back when you've got your head out of your ass."

Nick swore when the line went dead. On one hand, he knew he had to make up his mind, and soon. On the other, was it so much to ask to have *somebody* who would let him work things out at his own pace? Frustrated, he flung the phone away. It hit the sidewalk with a hard crack and bounced... in pieces.

"Oh great," he growled. "Just *perfect*."

Chris unlocked his front door, thanked Lance that he still remembered his alarm combination, and dumped his bags in the hallway. Briefly, he weighed the merits of taking a nap where he stood. His back twinged, reminding him of the benefits of a real bed. And he wouldn't have to wake up until...

He frowned, realizing he wasn't sure. The original plan had been for Nick to arrive sometime tomorrow, so theoretically he should wake up for that. But Nick hadn't nailed down an arrival time, and they hadn't talked in two days. He could arrive at any time, and Chris was not planning on waking up one second before he absolutely had to.

He dialed Nick's number as he headed up the stairs, fully planning to give his boyfriend the alarm code and fall into bed.

"The customer you have dialed is out of service range or has..." Chris stared at his phone. Okay, that was just weird. Maybe Nick's phone was off, but where was his voicemail. He couldn't be that far out of range, he was on I-4 somewhere. Wasn't he? He couldn't be pissed enough to crash at the Carter compound, could he? Or maybe he'd taken a detour and headed for Georgia to spill the beans after all.

His phone rang.

"Nick?"

"No Chris, it's Johnny. You get home all right?"

His first day home was not supposed to be this weird.

"Johnny, you don't give a damn if I get home all right as long as I'm not... oh God, is someone dead?"

"No, no. I just got a call from the band. They're stuck behind an accident on I-4 and I wanted to make sure Justin wasn't going to call and chew me out about the state of Florida traffic or something."

"I can't guarantee that he won't, but I got dropped off okay."

"Fine, good. See you in two weeks."

"Don't remind me."

Chris knew there was no way he was going to get any sleep until he'd tracked Nick down and made sure he wasn't dead in a hunk of twisted metal. Damn Johnny and his timing anyway.

Chris flung himself onto his bed and paged through his phone memory. He'd lost a Backstreet Boy. Littrell was going to kill him.

"Brian? Yeah, it's Chris Kirkpatrick. You haven't heard from Nick yet, have you?"

"Kirkpatrick, tell me you haven't lost him."

"Not lost, exactly." God, his brain was so not up to this. "Haven't heard from him in a couple of days. Thought maybe he'd headed your way after I told him you called." There. That was good. He sounded casual, and now Brian knew he'd done a Good Thing too.

"Nope. I wouldn't worry about it too much. I know he's got stuff on his mind, and Nick likes to keep off the radar when he's thinking about things."

"Who says I'm worried?"

"Sure you're not. He'll turn up."

He almost told Brian his fears but decided "I had a fight with your best friend and maybe he drove stupid" would just get him an ass-kicking.

"Okay, well, thanks." He hung up and tried to figure out what to do next. Sic Johnny on the highway patrol? Call another Backstreet Boy? Drive up to Nick's last stop and play detective? Chris lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling, hoping one of his options would suddenly become a genius idea.

Next thing he knew, his room was a lot darker and there was a really obnoxious noise going on somewhere. He smacked the alarm clock around a bit but the ringing continued. The burglar alarm was more deafening than this. What else in the house made noise? Couldn't be the microwave... Doorbell!

He fell out of bed, stumbled down the stairs and slid across the hallway. The peephole showed a familiar face. Chris yanked the door open. Nick stood on the doorstop looking sheepish.

"Nowhere else to go," he explained with a shrug. He ran one hand through his hair. "Sorry I woke you up."

But Chris wasn't paying attention to the words. The picture of Nick Carter -- haloed golden by the setting sun, his hesitant body language and rumpled clothing making him look vulnerable despite his aviator sunglasses -- was too pretty. Large hands still encased in black leather driving gloves sealed the deal.

Without a word (and if there had been non-word sounds, Chris wasn't admitting to any of them), Chris yanked Nick into the house and marched him up to the bedroom.

Either Nick knew him pretty well or Chris wasn't exactly being subtle, because by the time he shoved Nick back onto his bed, Nick was smirking. Nick's hands moved to the buttons of his jeans. Chris allowed that while finally stripping off the clothes he'd been wearing on the bus, but the moment Nick started to actually undress, Chris found his voice.

"Stop."

He couldn't read Nick's expression behind the sunglasses, but after a moment's pause, Nick folded his hands behind his head, apparently content to watch.

When it came to sex, Chris wasn't much of an exhibitionist, so standing naked while his lover was completely clothed was a little nerve-wracking. He had definite plans for Nick though, and he reminded himself of that while trying to figure out where the lube was. Nick finally joined the search, fished it and a strip of condoms out from under the bed, and tossed them to him.

"I should just whip this back at you," he grumbled.

Nick laughed easily, laying himself back down to watch. Sunglasses or no, when Chris slipped two slicked-up fingers into his own ass, he could read Nick's arousal like a neon sign. He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feel of Nick's eyes on him almost as much as the preparation. Nick was big, so Chris added a third finger, waiting until the burn faded into pleasure before turning his attention back to the Boy on his bed. He grabbed a condom and crawled up to straddle Nick.

"What am I, your rent boy?" Nick asked, his voice hoarse.

"Oh, you better believe it, Carter." Chris' hands were shaking just a little as he eased Nick's cock out of his khakis. "Dirty boy, no underwear."

"Mmmm hmmm." Chris took a second to savour. Nick was already going nonverbal, and he was only getting his cock stroked. This was going to be very, very good... or very, very fast. Possibly both.

Chris gave Nick's balls a quick tug, just in case, rolled on the condom, and raised himself up. Nick made a strangled noise that was very flattering, then brought his hands up to steady Chris. The sensation of warm, soft leather on his hips had Chris biting his lip. Whoever said Nick was slow to catch on to things clearly had never had him in their bed.

But Chris did. He breathed out and let Nick guide him down. Nick paused as the head of his cock pushed inside, but Chris didn't want to wait. He breathed out and pushed down further and *there* was the feeling he wanted. Stretched and full and God, there was leather on his nipples and did he *have* to move?

"Chris!" Nick muttered urgently. Okay, maybe he didn't have to, but as a gift to the very nice man who owned the dick up his ass, he would. He raised himself up a little, feeling the strain in his thighs almost as much as the loss of Nick's cock. But the slide back down was even better as he took more in. Nick slid one hand to the small of Chris' back and one to his hard-on and wow this was definitely Chris' best idea ever. Nick thrust up as his hand tightened around Chris' cock, and then there was leather sliding up and down and over the head and Chris just had to let go. He had a vague thought of mourning for the glove he was undoubtedly ruining, before his brain totally shut down.

When Chris became aware of his surroundings again, he was loose-limbed, sated, and staring up at a very predatory lover. Nick had gotten rid of the sunglasses and clothes, and Chris only missed the gloves a little as Nick thrust in hard.

"Selfish little fucker." Nick grunted, thrusting again for emphasis. "My turn now."

"Oh, by all means." Chris panted. He loved Nick like this. One of the advantages of having a big body was power, and Chris was all for Nick making use of that power. He grabbed Nick's ass with both hands and encouraged him to go even harder.

Nick wasn't going for anything fancy, just a steady pounding rhythm with a few grunts. There was really something to be said for simple, especially when he was hitting Chris' prostate on pretty much every stroke. When Nick thrust in one final time and *bit down* on Chris' shoulder, Chris whimpered and came along with him.

Chris woke up alone, but the smell of bacon frying told him there was no need to do any further freaking out today, for which he was devoutly thankful. He wondered if he could get Nick to bring him breakfast in bed if he just lay there long enough.

The clock told him it was almost ten pm but breakfast food was welcome any time in Chris' opinion. Soon enough Nick came up the stairs with a nicely loaded tray.

"Wow. You really know how to treat a guy, Nick." Bacon and eggs and toast and... "This was in my fridge?"

"This was in the cooler in my car." Nick explained, handing him the tray and climbing in beside him. "I figured you wouldn't have any food so I went grocery shopping."

"Always thinking." Chris made a bacon sandwich and bit in. "Mmmm. Yeah, okay. Keeping you."

"Oh good." Nick grabbed some homefries, eggs and ketchup and proceeded to make what would have been a disgusting-looking pile if Chris had never been in a roadside diner at two am with Joey and Justin.

"But we *are* going to talk about your phone habits, mister."

"I broke it." Was Nick blushing? "And then I... kinda cancelled the contract until I could get a new one. That's why I'm here early."

"Did you know there was a major accident on the I-4 this afternoon?"

"Oh crap."
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