With Or Without You
by northern

Chris is watching Joey when it happens.

He has learned to predict the exact moment Joey's expression will change. His happy face will slide right off and something different, something alien, will take its place. It doesn't happen often nowadays. The first time he saw it was by accident, he's sure of that.

In Germany they sometimes went out, him and Joey, without the others. It suited him fine. Joey wasn't particularly interested in knowing where they served the fanciest drinks - he just wanted to get drunk, and most often laid. Chris easily found places both he and Joey would like. Outside the back entrance of one of those places, a grimy, unpretentious club, Chris first saw Joey change.

Chris was coming out into the alley, tired of the people inside. The air was chilly. The big trash cans by the wall were barely visible in the dark, but at the end of the alley there was more light. He had started walking when something by the trash cans caught his eye.

A couple were kissing there, by the wall. Not a very uncommon sight, this late.

One of the men was Joey. A bit less common, but not that rare either. Chris didn't consider himself Joey's keeper by any means.

Joey had the shorter man (a boy really, Chris observed to himself) backed up against the wall between the trash cans. They probably didn't notice the smell much. Joey's arms looked very solid around the boy's thin shoulders. They moved a little and broke apart, Joey stroking the boy's neck slowly with his thumb. The boy was panting and resting his forehead against Joey's chest, and now Chris could see Joey clearer. His eyes were hidden, and his mouth looked wet. Joey's hand on the boy's neck tightened as he made him look up.

Joey's hand was very large against the slim throat.

Chris's breath caught.

The boy was maybe whimpering a little. It was hard to tell.

Chris turned and walked quickly to the end of the alley, paused to remember which way the hotel was. He dug his hands firmly into his pockets and started walking. He wasn't Joey's keeper.

The air was chilly.

Lance is lying on the floor in front of the TV set, too lazy to get up. Joey is leaning over him, holding Lance's upside down face in his hands. Something strange shoots through Chris and his eyes can't let go of Lance, hanging limp and helpless in Joey's hands.

Chris closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and holds it for a moment. When he opens his eyes again, Joey and Lance are wrestling on the floor, laughing, Joey's face happy and shining. Justin jabs him in the side and asks, "What?"

"Naah, nothing," he replies. "I'm just watching them."

Justin's hands have always been larger than his.

Even when Chris first met him, the size of Justin's hands and feet promised that he'd grow up to be much taller than Chris.

Chris watches Justin a lot these days.

The troubles with Britney mean that they're suddenly spending even more time together. Chris has no problems with that. He likes Justin. Justin would be what he called his best friend, if he didn't have four best friends that he didn't really like to rate.

What isn't that ideal is that Justin is in a pissy mood. The mock arguments they have all the time are getting nastier. It almost sounds as if Justin means some of the things he flings in Chris's direction.

When they're not arguing, Justin sulks. Chris knows he won't admit that's what he's doing, but still, sitting quiet in a corner, staring at nothing with a frown on his face qualifies as sulking in Chris's book. Chris has already told him so several times, but the frown on Justin's face only gets more pronounced.

Finally Chris sits and watches some TV, his back turned. Justin throws a sock at his head after only five minutes.

Chris always thinks that he had an okay childhood.

Sure, they were poor as dirt, but they had each other, and his mother always loved him. The boyfriends were an annoying necessity. Something to watch out for. They always left, anyway. He tried to lie low and they almost never noticed him.

The only times he thinks his childhood might not have been so okay is when he watches Joey change. It doesn't happen so often that he sees it as a real problem. He walks away and waits for normal, happy Joey to come back, and he always does. So, it's not a problem. Mostly, he tries to avoid going out alone with Joey.

Justin was a cute kid when they started out together. Hell, he was pretty cute now, too. But when they started, he had that vulnerability behind a cocky façade that always intrigued Chris more than he wanted to admit.

He'd looked out for Justin then. Had wanted to help him. Even went so far as to have some man-to-man talks with him, about facts of life, the kinds of people to watch out for, things like that. He'd been surprised at how much Justin already knew about keeping his guard up.

And still, Justin had trusted him.

He'd found himself touching him more than necessary - grasping a shoulder when he wanted to make a point, running a hand through those curls when Justin fell asleep on his couch. He still marvelled at how often Lynne had left her baby alone with Chris. She had trusted him, too.

Justin fell asleep on Chris's couch a lot. Chris liked to look at him, then. Justin's mouth fell slightly open when he slept. His lips looked soft and dark pink. His eyelashes lay snug against his cheeks. There was something innocent, something perfect about him.

Justin was a sound sleeper, too. Not much would wake him. Chris could sit on the floor, his face not a foot from Justin's, feeling the soft, even breaths against his skin, without Justin's sleep being disturbed in the slightest.

Those lips looked so soft. Half-open, relaxed in sleep. Chris licked his own lips and leaned closer. Justin's breath smelled sweet, from the pop he'd drunk earlier. His eyelashes didn't even flutter.

Chris closed the distance and lightly pressed his lips against Justin's. Backed away and studied him. No change in breathing or eyelids. Chris licked his lips again. They tasted sweet and tingled from the light contact.

He tried it again, letting his tongue slide slowly against Justin's lips. Sweet and pliant. Smooth teeth if he pressed a little. Justin's breath tickled against his face, warm and sweet. So sweet.

He sat up again, turning and resting his back against the couch, licking his lips. They felt numb with sweetness.

"So, Chris," Justin says tentatively. "Britney and I aren't dating anymore."

Chris raises his eyebrows. "I'd sorta guessed."

Justin looks down and tugs on his shirt hem.

"She hasn't been here for... is it six months now?" Chris prods.

"I just thought you should know." Justin looks at the door and his tone is tired.

Justin throws himself on Chris's back and clings on, yelling and whooping. Chris staggers but stays on his feet and makes for the couch, where he crashes with Justin on top of him.

Justin's weight is too much for a moment, but then he shifts and Chris can breathe. He has to fight off the hands trying to tickle him into submission, and with a Herculean effort Chris manages to turn them around to put himself on top. He snakes his hand around Justin's neck and squeezes, forcing his chin up. Justin's body under his own writhes and wiggles.