A story for kate

When Joey was nine his mom brought home chocolate Advent calendars for he and Janine and Steve. She sat them down and explained about the little numbered doors and looked right at him and said to only open one door a day because the surprise at the end would be that much better.

So Joey nodded seriously and propped his up on his desk and set about ignoring it altogether until the first. It was easy to forget about during the days when he was busy with school and his friends but sometimes after his mom tucked him in he'd get up and hold the calendar, tracing his fingers over the numbered doors. Once he opened one, just to see, but he could hear his mom's voice full of disappointment in his head so he closed it up and slid it under his bed and waited for the first. And with each new day he tried to imagine what the surprise could be, how they could fit something so grand into a space so small.

--

Sometimes he thinks his mom is a mind reader, even thousands of miles away, because two days before December starts and there's a package for him. He tears open the letter because words from home are as good as gold here. His mom tells him to not worry about church and he feels guilty because it never really crossed his mind. But she promises to pray twice as hard so Joey can just enjoy the day off, she even offers to partake of the wine twice, just as safe measure and that makes him grin.

Inside the box are five Advent calendars, cheap and colorful and just like he remembers. He's sure it cost his mom more to ship them across an ocean than they actually cost to purchase, and he'll never have the heart to tell her that he's seen the exact same ones in the little shops around their hotels, but still it feels a little like home.

He stashes them in his bags as best he can. They're not heavy but a little bulky so he has to be creative, but it's worth it. It's a pleasant secret and they don't usually have the luxury of those.

He unwraps them proudly the morning of the first and smiles broadly when JC and Justin and Lance's faces all light up. Chris just looks at his confused, turning it over in his hands like he's not quite sure what to do with so much colorful cardboard. But then Lance pops the first little door open for him, explaining in a low voice one for each day and a slow smile spreads across Chris' face.

Justin eats all his candy within the first hour, always in such a hurry for everything, Joey thinks, and then spends the afternoon moaning a little when the stomachache hits. Chris tries but halfway through Lance grabs his calendar and runs because Chris on a sugar high is nothing that anyone wants in close confines. Chris tackles Lance and they end up rolling on the floor while Joey rubs small circles into Justin's back and tries not to laugh.

The next morning he feels bad for Justin but not because of the still lingering stomach ache. He knows the best part about the little calendars is doing it day by day. Anticipation like a salve for the weariness he feels dragging his body out of bed every morning. It's silly, he knows, to think it will be any different this time than it was for the last ten years. There are no grand prizes at the end of counting days but Joey likes to think there might be. He's open to the possibility of something greater than what's been.

--

He wakes up with soft hair tickling his arm, which is just wrong. He knows he didn't bring anyone home; he's sharing with Justin. Justin who's curled up against his side and Joey can see where his hands rest just in front of his mouth, like he's just moments away from sucking his thumb. And Joey can't help but trace with his eyes, hands turning into arms left bare where the blanket slid down.

Joey sighs and shifts, turning his back towards Justin. It's not like he's never woken up with one of the others in his bed in these crappy hotels. But it's Justin, and he knows that shouldn't make any difference. Can't make any difference. Four years and a full quarter of Justin's lifetime between them and it can't make any difference that Justin is the one scooting in his sleep to press up against him. Joey closes his eyes, and tells himself that the reason he's hard has nothing to do with the boy draped over his back.

--

Joey wakes in another hotel room on another hard bed; a spring digging into his back and a warm body slumped against his side.

He waits until he's awake before reaching under the bed for his calendar.

Lance shifts next to him and pushes his cold feet against Joey's legs. He shudders and thinks about pushing Lance out of the bed but Joey's the one that begged and pleaded for Lance to switch rooms with Justin so he figures he owes Lance at least this much.

Justin comes barreling in before Joey's even really awake and jumps on the bed, tossing Lance nearly out.

"Fuck, J," Lance growls and turns over, burrowing back down into the warm covers till just the very blond tips of his hair show.

Justin curls in next to Joey and hooks his chin over Joey's shoulder.

"Please," he says, looking at Joey's calendar, his breath tickling against Joey's throat.

Joey opens the little door quickly and hands over the sweet and Justin's grinning right at him, all white teeth and wide eyes. Justin pops the candy in his mouth and kisses Joey hard on the cheek and is gone so quick that Joey can almost believe it was a dream. But when he turns back to bed Lance is just grinning at him, like he knows more than Joey ever will, and he thinks maybe he should have dumped Lance out of bed after all.

--

Another day, another hotel and another small square of chocolate that he manages to eat before Justin can find him with his pouting lips and pleading eyes. He doesn't realize until Lance points it out that the small sweet is shaped like mistletoe. Joey prays that Chris doesn't notice but it doesn't matter because Lance is already out the door and when he sees them next Chris grins up at him and he can almost see the wheels turning.

By the evening Chris has managed to fashion a construction paper sprig that he fastens to the top of his door in the hotel. Joey doesn't realize any of this, unfortunately, until he's stumbling down the hall after another show, sore and half asleep. He almost falls over completely when a hand pulls hard on his arm, dragging him into a room that he's pretty sure isn't his. He has just enough time to recognize the hand as Chris' before there's a wet, sloppy mouth on his. It's over really before it even starts but Chris is still holding his face and Joey thinks that's probably a good thing because he's sure those hands are the only thing keeping him upright at the moment.

The shock passes when the catcalls and laughter start.

"Freak," he growls and pushes Chris away lightly. He swipes at his mouth for show, rubbing his lips until they feel raw, and turns to face his audience.

"About time you showed, Fatone," JC says between giggles. "Chris has been holding us hostage. Said he couldn't let us go until he smooched you, too."

"He slobbered all over all of you?"

JC and Justin both scrunch up their faces and nod, Lance just keeps smiling.

"So you got me," Joey concedes and reaches up to pluck the green paper from the doorway. "We can get rid of this now, yes?"

Chris grins and grabs at his hand before he can crush the mistletoe. "Nope. Permanent fixture of the Kirkpatrick room, man. I'm doing my part to spread the holiday cheer."

"Yeah, Joey gives us chocolates and Chris gives us herpes." And Chris has Lance off the bed and pinned to the floor before Joey can even blink. Chris makes a show of punching Lance in the gut but Joey can see the fingers of his other hand moving against the exposed skin of Lance's side.

Joey grins at the mass of arms and legs rolling around on the floor and he can feel Justin's eyes on him while he watches. And it's probably just the light, but when he turns to look Justin's eyes are shining, his smile bright.

Joey forces a grin, dropping Justin's gaze, and quickly says his goodnights. On his way back to his room he makes a note to never go into that room without knowing exactly where everyone is.

--

Another photo shoot and another day where Justin acts like half child and half man; climbing all over everyone but draping himself over Joey. Brothers, Lou says, act like brothers which is just so completely wrong, Joey knows; he's never in his life touched Steve this much.

They're on break when Justin comes up behind him, wrapping impossibly long arms around his waist. Slender fingers intertwine and push, just a little, at the hem of Joey's shirt.

"I," he clears his throat and forces out words. "I'm gonna..." He untangles Justin's hands and pushes them away harder than he means, but he doesn't have time to care because he's out the door so quick. He doesn't smoke, but he wishes he did just to have an excuse to be standing out in the freezing cold.

The door behind him squeaks open and he doesn't ask god for a whole lot any more but he's praying hard that it isn't Justin. Anyone but Justin. And when JC speaks he thinks all those Hail Marys and Our Fathers finally paid off.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," he nods. "Just, you know, kinda hot in there."

JC smiles a little and cocks his head. "You know it's just Justin, right? Just like innocent affection. He's just. He's always been that way." And JC is earnest, his fingers wrapped around Joey's arm.

Joey nods and tries to smile. He wants to believe it, wants to believe that JC doesn't have a blind spot the size of Alaska when it comes to Justin, but Joey can still feel hot fingers burning against his skin.

--

When he wakes up he's still a little drunk from the night before and doesn't really remember how he got back to his room. JC and Justin are sprawled out on the other bed, all long limbs and innate grace.

It’s not quite Christmas but when he pulls out his calendar all his doors are standing wide open. He thinks he'd be more pissed at Justin if his stomach wasn't actually protesting against just the thought of chocolate.

He stretches and shivers when the cold hits the exposed skin of his stomach. He shoves his shirt down again and goes to look through the open door to the connecting room.

He stands in the doorway and freezes. Chris is curled around Lance, his face hidden from view by Lance's pale neck. He has an arm thrown over Lance's waist and it makes Joey's heart twist a little in his chest, the way their fingers are twined even in sleep.

He curses under his breath when the door he's leaning against creaks under the weight but Chris is dead to the world and Lance just mumbles a little and rolls over, his face turned towards Chris'.

Eight years, Justin said to him once. Eight years, like it was the answer to everything and Joey didn't say anything, just watched as Chris threw an arm over Lance's shoulder and whispered in his ear. And Joey wanted to tell Justin that it wasn't that simple, that it never was, but now Chris and Lance are curled together, close enough to share breath and maybe he was wrong.

He hears the bedding shift in the room behind him and knows it's Justin; it's pretty much always Justin.

A hand grabs his wrist with fingers not even long enough yet to go all the way around but the perfect length to stroke absently over the soft skin on the inside, and Joey has to fight not to jerk away. He wasn't wrong. Eight and four aren't the numbers that matter at all.

Justin smiles and tilts his chin up and Joey follows his gaze until he's watching the green flutter of construction paper above them. He stares, head tilted back and eyes open only as slits until Justin pulls on his wrist, quiet reminder that he's been caught.

He stretches his lips across teeth and hopes it looks more like a smile than a grimace because Justin is smiling, mouth wide and teeth showing. Joey shakes the hand from his wrist and reaches up to hold Justin's face between outstretched palms like a hymnal. The kiss is big and wet and right on Justin's forehead and Joey can actually feel the skin furrow under his lips so he's ready for Justin's frown even before he pulls back to see it.

He drops his hands and Justin wipes at his forehead, the corners of his mouth turned down and eyes narrow. Joey has to look away.

"You know," Justin pauses and starts again, except this time it's less like a question. "You know one day I'll be old enough for you to do that proper."

When Joey looks up Justin's head is bowed, fingers sliding over his forehead and Joey thinks he can see the wetness still lingering. Justin raises his head and Joey nods and pulls Justin to him, circling him with both arms. He has to swallow hard before any words will come out. "I know," he says into soft hair.

Joey closes his eyes and starts counting the days.

end