Sentimental Journey 4-5

Sentimental Journey

by Ian McDuff

Cheers and jeers - and suggestions I may or may not take - gladly accepted at armylad@gay.com. A kudos apiece to all who have written already. Warm fuzzy feelings and all that. Seriously, thanks for the egoboo, guys.

Sentimental Journey

NOTE: This series is kindly mirrored at the Nifty Archive and by the lovely Gabriella at http://railwayshoes.net/hosted/index.html. Bless 'em both.

Standard Disclaimer: If descriptions of same-sex acts, feelings, &c are held to be - by any governmental entity asserting jurisdiction over you, or by your religion or moral framework - illegal, immoral, unethical, or fattening, read no further. If you are underage according to your local laws, read no further. If you have somehow managed not to notice until now that this is a slash site, read no further (and look into either corrective lenses or remedial English classes, because you've managed to miss about a dozen different warnings to get here at all). I need hardly say that the events and personalities depicted in this story are wholly figments of the author's rabid imagination, and in no wise should be taken to imply that any actual member of any boyband, or any celebrity known to mankind, or any real person, is or conceivably could be gay - least of all the members of 'N Sync and of the Backstreet Boys, all of whom are of course straight, well-dressed, intelligent, articulate, cultured, sweet-natured, and kind to their mommies. Major Lee also of course does not and cannot possibly exist - and I am certainly not he. (In fact, bits of him are borrowed from a lovably pompous writer pal of mine who has no idea he's gay....)

Equally, it should be evident that I have no contact with or knowledge of any of such musicians, pop stars, their agents, associates, staff, or families. It should also be relatively clear that this is hardly my first time writing fiction, though it is assuredly the first time I've written in this genre or for this nifty little site. Oh - a word about that. Obviously, intellectual property rights are held by me, and no cross-posting to any site that charges any fee for entrance or activity is allowed without prior written consent from the author. And two quick words about the story: first, of all the subgenres out here, Celeb/BoyBands was the least likely for my gay fiction debut. Some readers - who refuse to read it - seem to think that it's all wannabe fantasy, and that using characters made to order is all we can manage as writers.... But there are a number of superb and highly original stories in this genre, and I too wanted to tackle the challenge of breathing originality and freshness into what could so easily be formulaic. After all, the challenges are there: believability, the heightened pressure of closeted relationships for young men whose growing up has been anything but normal, often the collision of worlds and backgrounds.... The other warning is that this series is not going to move urgently into hot monkey sex - though, yes, we're getting there: patience; it will build, and it will I hope be something more than quick stroke-lit. Now enough prologue: let's get to the tale....

Sentimental Journey: Chapter Four

In Our Last Episode: Thrown together by Amtrak, the members of BSB and 'N Sync fall in with dashing young military historian and lawyer, the Virginia aristocrat Major Custis Lee. The Major pulls a few aces out of his sleeve, gets the Army to underwrite the joint 'Amtrak - VIA whistlestop tour,' suggests some ways in which the bands can expand their fan-base, and soothes hurt feelings occasioned by the comings-out of some of the band members. Unfortunately, this hits a little close to home for the Major himself:

I looked steadily at Kevin. 'Well, I wouldn't be altogether shocked if Nick found Howie a pretty good substitute for his crush on you.'

Kevin nodded, with some relief. Then his face changed. 'Oh, shit, though. That leaves Justin as a wild card, or third wheel, or something. That poor kid....'

'I know. But - sure, it's easier for a couple within the same band. But surely someone of Justin's stature will find what he's looking for.'

'Mmhm. Maybe you?'

My jaw dropped. 'The stress is getting to you,' I said. 'That's simply -'

'Custis. Relax. Don't you find Just attractive?'

'Doesn't everyone? Sort of the point. He's just a child, for starters, and regardless of the fact that by next year I doubt I'll ever see any of you again -'

'Like hell,' Kevin grinned, 'you're our friend now. Family.'

'Well, thank you. Still, even if I were capable of thinking of Justin in that way - which as a "friend" and as "family" I can't, anymore than you could Nicky - and leaving aside the ethical fact that he's technically a client, fact still remains he's young enough literally to be my son, and he's so far out of my league -'

'Christ, Custis, look in the mirror! If I weren't promised - I mean ... damn, dude, nine years ago, before I remade my commitments and finished my explorin' ... we'd be screwing like rabbits now if I could get you to!' He paused and studied me critically as I blushed. 'Man,' he said softly, 'you need to see what the rest of us see. Whoever he is - 'cause it's blazing clear, Custis - whoever has your heart.... It's none of us, I guess?'

I shook my head. It wasn't.

'Is he gay? And single? And a friend?'

I nodded.

'And you won't approach him because - why?'

I couldn't speak.

Kevin came over to me and lifted my chin, gazing deep into my eyes. 'Custis, you turned us all around in, like, twelve hours. Let us help you right back. You are a great - and hot - guy. No one is out of your league, and - assuming he's street legal? 'Kay. I figured he was: you're far too decent for the other - then, age and whatever don't matter. I mean, shit, you look like you're in your twenties, trust me. I'd be more concerned 'bout whether he could ever measure up to you, 'cause you are special, man. Special. And I can tell you think he is also special - what's his name?'

'Lucien,' I choked out. 'Luke to most folks.'

'Well, Custis, please - we want to return your help. We owe you so much. Anything we can do.... I hope he's worth it.'

'He is. He would be -'

'Will be,' corrected Kevin. 'Just - don't break Justin's heart, if, if it turns out he falls for you.'

'Never.' And, as I thought to myself, as if that were possible.

'I know. 'Night, Custis.'

I shut the door, and crawled miserably into bed.

And Now, The New, Thrilling Installment of Our Serial:

Kevin, too, was not yet destined for bed. His cousin was waiting for him when he got to his suite.

'Bri?'

'Kev, I know you're tired ... this won't take long....'

'C'mon in. Family comes first.'

'I know. You by blood; all the guys, though, really. Kev....'

'B-Rok, if I hurt you this afternoon-'

'Hey, that's my line. I'm the one here to apologize. I was having my devotional after talking to Leigh Anne....' Both boys had been brought up to read the Scriptures each night before turning in. Brian still did. 'And I was thinking.'

Kevin sighed. He wasn't in the mood for a lecture and a whiff of brimstone, but he'd been brought up in the same beliefs as had his cousin, and even now, he did still believe - mostly. 'Brian, it was just after Beth and I broke off that engagement we were too young ever to have had. I know. It was bad enough that I'd slept with her outside marriage: that still hurts me that I did that, and I still - well, anyway, I was out of control for a while -'

'Kevin, will you hush up? I told you I was the one here to apologize. I'm not here to judge you or preach at you. I'm here on account of the verses that hit me hard tonight were, Judge not lest ye be judged, and Paul's words in Corinthians 'bout love being longsufferin' and bearin' all things. I love y'all, you especially, being my cuz and all, but all y'all, just because y'all are y'all, and in addition we're commanded to love one another anyway and owe no man anything but love. And I wanted you to know that if, a-cause I was a bit blown away, I reacted as if I was judgin' and not lovin', well, I'm sorry and I didn't mean to.' And Brian dragged his cousin and boyhood hero out of the chair and into a tight hug.

'Besides,' Brian grinned. 'Mr Dance Instructor ... you were always too good-lookin' to be a hundred percent straight, unlike me.'

Kev laughed, swatted Bri on the back of the head, and said, 'Oh, I'm sure there are those who go for the rough-hewn type ... just hope Leigh Anne doesn't get her glasses before the weddin'.'

After a quick exchange of pillow-bops, the cousins, yawning, trundled off to their respective beds.

I tossed and turned a good bit myself. The last thing I'd wanted to have brought up was my whole miserable involvement with - or, one-sided as it was, crush on - Luke deMaria. Fortunately, I have a lot of experience in sleeping miserably.

Justin expected to sleep lightly, and brokenly. He'd been doing so for months. Everyone joked about how hard he was to awaken, as they used to jest about JC.... But JC seemed to be greeting the day with a smile these days - well, no wonder; whereas what still kept Justin in bed long after the wake-up calls was a combination of miserable nights and sheer, depressed unwillingness to face the world. What did he have that was worth getting up for anyway - unlike JC, now, who might have trouble getting out of bed these days, but not because he lacked energy.... Whoa. To think of, that was probably why Howie was always so removed - maybe it wasn't that he was 'grounded' and 'mature,' but that he was just as down, too. And - hmmm: bet that's why Nicky was in bad shape, nervous eating and tension.... Nope. No way he was going to sleep sound tonight.....

Needless to say, sleep swamped him suddenly and took him down, fathoms deep. He, Howie, and Nick, like a warm tangle of puppies worn out from play with an old sock, slept deeply.

About two in the morning, James Lance Bass slipped seamlessly from a dream of passion to its reality, his eyes fluttering open to see what his waking mind already treasured: his lover lovingly caressing James's balls with one hand as he softly and tenderly rimmed him.

'Josh,' James breathed, 'babe, are you out of your mind?'

Josh said nothing as he blew on James's by now fluttering hole and trailed kisses up to his neck; then he whispered back, 'Hon, I have been a fool to neglect you and I just have to make it up to us both....'

'But-'

'Sssh. Shush now, sexy, they'll never know - besides,' Josh grinned, fingering James still looser, 'we can handle an audience, we're performers....'

James stifled a giggle. 'Not that way we ain't.'

'Huh,' said Josh, as he prepared his love for entry. 'Hell we aren't.... That time you just bein' there gave me wood on stage ... the time - oooh - the time I got caught on camera feeling you up right, ahhh, there ... the time-'

James bit his lip to hold back a moan of pleasure as Josh entered him fully. He looked nervously across towards the other bed. Just, Nick, and Howie were peacefully and deeply asleep. Only Justin stirred as Josh's pace increased and he and James forced themselves quiet with deep kisses. And Justin did not wake: he merely reacted subconsciously to the faint sounds and aromas of urgent yet tender sex by tossing a long, lean leg and arm over the spooning Sweet D and Nicky, and snuggling in tighter to Howie's shoulder.

James's whole being was centered, concentrated now, on his lover, the feel and scent and heft of him, the sensations he was creating within him, the deep and unshakeable love of which this was but a physical manifestation. Nothing else mattered any longer. He was in a state of synesthesia, touch and smell and sight and hearing and the taste of Josh's mouth on his own, the passion given and received, all merged and transcendent, blossoming into something of which devotion and passion, affection and physical sensation, the fullness of heart and the trembling cusp of orgasm, were but mere reflections, facets of some Platonic archetype of love. He felt his whole self buoyed and uplifted, even as a faint, half-regarded quiver in his loins whispered the warning that he was about to erupt.

Josh, glassy-eyed, sweat-sleek, urgent, felt in himself an uprush of emotion that dwarfed the physical feeling of upwelling cum, the body's urgent need for sweet release. His consciousness was flooded with a presence, familiar as his own soul yet unnameable - but he knew the name of that presence as he knew his own self. He could have articulated it only by reference to sounds and songs and music, flowers and visions, the mold of a particular thigh, the timbre of a certain laugh, the glint and hue of one pair of eyes, the texture of one mind and heart - but in its totality it was beyond description or articulation, it simply was: the presence of his other self, of he who made him whole, of his complete and single love, his James.

With muffled and simultaneous cries of 'I love you' gasped into each other's mouths, James and Josh seized up and came together. The last throes of passion merged into collapse, and rest, and caresses merging into sleep, the lovers locked together and made one, each safe in harbor, at home, connected, loved.

Good night, bad night, sleepless night, it has never mattered. It was oh-dark-thirty and I was automatically awake and on full alert, rolling out of the bunk to the SOP of shit-shower-and-shave.

In half an hour, I was at the elevator, ready for my morning PT, and not surprisingly, so was Sergeant Johnston. Just as the doors opened to the elevator, Big John Sullivan wandered out of his suite, also ready to lock and load.

'Night shift still on duty?'

'Yes, sir,' he said.

'Then come along, jarhead.'

There was a track in the pocket park attached to the hotel, and false dawn was already on the horizon by the time we'd finished calisthenics. We started running. Forgetful of civilians asleep at the hotel, I looked over at Jake and noted, 'Something missing here.'

Sullivan, on Jake's left, grinned. 'Yeah, like in the Westerns - "It's quiet out here: too quiet."'

'Sergeant Johnston, you do the honors, then. Damned if I can run like a bunch of civilian pukes with Discmans along.'

Jake chuckled, breathed deep, and started singing cadence.

We finished half an hour later, on about the twelfth really ribald verse of Hello, Josephine, and headed to barracks to shower and kit out.

I suppose we were lucky not to have been pounced at the desk. Maybe the other guests had preferred to cuss and roll over rather than to wake up enough to call and bitch. The first flak we caught came at breakfast in Kevin's suite, where I was bid by invitation.

When I walked in, Chris and Joey moaned.

'Gentlemen?'

'Jesus, Custis,' Chris mumbled. 'Too bright. Too bright.'

Joey just pointed at my attire: a pink buttondown pinpoint Oxford, bright green widewale cords, and Maine hunting boots from Leon's (LL Bean to the uninitiate). I suppose it may have been a bit much for their obvious condition. Brian and Kevin just grinned sleepily.

Howie, Justin, and Nick arrived reasonably alert, which apparently surprised the hell out the group, and James and Josh bounced in, tired but happy. That caught some comments.

'Morning, lovebirds. You two are way too fuckin' merry an' gay.... Good night, low sleep?' asked AJ, wandering in half-awake.

Josh and James responded with possum grins.

'No way,' said Nick. 'Us guys slep' over in their suite, and we didn't hear shit. Only thing woke us during the night was some buncha drunk fuckers, I guess, runnin' around singin' and yellin' at some unfuckin'godly hour.'

Jake, Big John, and I just bust out laughing, which didn't 'set' right well with the hangover brigade.

I looked over at the back-on-duty detail and silently counted to three.

My gal's cunt is so damn wide

Saddam's whole Army fits inside -

We broke off when the pillows started flying. It was too late. Whilst Kev, Brian, Josh, and Lance winced at the images, Howie and Nick gagged, AJ laughed , and Joey and Chris moaned about their hangovers, Big John stood aside sheepishly as a dainty woman in her thirties pushed in through the hallway door.

'You,' she said drily, 'must be the Mysterious Major. Lenore Williams, tour manager for this leg of the trip. I trust you are not suggesting that be on the boys' next CD.'

Some miles westwards, at Gettysburg, LTC John Carpenter, AUS (Ret'd), SSG Stuart Gaines, USAF (Ret'd), and Dr Charlotte Meacham, Park Ranger - Historian, were sitting down to a working breakfast.

'Ol' Custis, he does work fast,' said Carpenter. 'And oddly enough, I'm almost looking forward to this.'

'If it were anyone else,' Dr Meacham said, 'I'd be less than pleased. But if anyone can pull this off -'

'He will.' Gaines's voice was flatly assured. 'And hell, they probably are better kids than we expect.'

'They will be, time Major Lee's done with them,' said Carpenter.

I grinned at Ms (and I could tell she was definitely an insistent 'Ms') Williams. 'No, Little Miss, I don't think that would work well with their public or private personæ. They do however have some new pieces to learn - Kevin will be handling that.'

She gave me a hard look, but turned to the boys.

'Then we'll let Kevin handle that. Other than that, you b- you men have the day off : try an' behave like sensible people while the Major here and Amtrak and I get the sked revised, 'kay? Major, I'll see you in the conference room they gave us, in about half an hour. Sorry they don't serve grits up here - enjoy your breakfast.'

With a curt nod, she turned and left. There was silence for a moment, then Brian spoke up.

'Dang, Custis: she likes you.'

I looked at him, nonplused.

'She's never that nice,' AJ said. 'No shit, man: for her, that's practically a "Hello, soldier, you're hot, I'm all yours, let's fuck."'

'Well,' I drawled, 'she's in for a disappointment, ain't she?'

James giggled. '"Public and private personæ," huh? I was like to shit myself when you said that.'

'Um, well. I do need to be more cautious there. Now, I'm running short on time. Whilst I chow down, how 'bout y'all enlighten me on the staff situation?'

Immediately, Kev, James, and Josh transformed themselves into Kevin, Lance 'Scoop' Bass, and JC, and became briskly businesslike.

Meanwhile, as the morning mists burned off Culp's Hill, Cemetery Ridge, and the Round Tops, a similar transformation was taking place. John Carpenter had vanished, subsumed into Lew Armistead; Stuart Gaines had transmogrified into Hancock the Superb. As Dr Meacham considered how best to effect Custis' plans, the reenactors under Carpenter and Gaines drilled on the hallowed ground of Gettysburg.

'When we get pounded into doing a joint tour -' Lance was saying. I raised an eyebrow at that.

'Custis,' Kevin explained, 'we like each other, we get along fine - in fact thanks to you I think we're getting along better than ever and liking each other lots more, within each band and between the groups. But joint tours are hell on us, and besides, they're such a "suit" idea....'

'And y'all resent that, I imagine. Having encountered your management, I can see why. Go on.'

Lance resumed. 'Well, joint tours, we get a mix of personnel from both staffs. Example, Jake's always been 'N Sync security; Big John, always BSB. Regular joint tour, we'd have a mix of directors, managers, choreographers - thank God there's no dancing on this whistlestop....'

'I keep telling you, sweetie, I feel like I'm dating a straight guy,' JC grinned.

'Oooo, fuck you.'

'Later.'

'Promise?'

I cleared my throat as Kevin fought to keep a straight face.

'And Miz Lenore?' I asked.

'She's ours,' Kevin said. 'But you can sure have her.... On the Canada leg, we'll have an 'N Syncer, I 'spect.'

'Well, I surely would hate to take her away from you boys. But I ought at least go get with her - for a meeting, Joshua, so wipe that smirk off your mug. Kevin, you can brief these two on what we discussed.'

'Then can I debrief Scoop later?' asked Josh.

'I've no patience with you,' I said patiently, and left.

Meanwhile, as James, Josh, and Kev filled me in over the remains of breakfast, the others had adjourned to a room set aside for TV and video games and 'Net surfing, and which contained a pool table and a ping-pong table. Brian, though, had insisted on saying something first.

'- So it's like I told Kev. 'Tain't my place to judge anybody. Last I looked, I ain't God. Nor any better than any one of y'all - darn it, the Major's got me sayin' that in public, to Yankees. Might as well be home.... Point is, all y'all are my brothers, and I love ever' last one of you. No matter what. We all cool on that? AJ - you got anything to say?'

AJ took a deep breath, then managed a grin. 'Yeah. Guess I do, huh? I'm the one overreacted and was stupid. I don't care whose ass anybody wants to fuck - well, I mean, mine's off-limits -'

'Aaaw, phooey,' Joey said, in mock disappointment.

'- Ew, Jesus, Joe, even the gay guys must be about to upchuck at thinking about you doin' it -'

'Hey! Sleepin' with Superman'd be a privilege!' Everyone broke up.

'More like Clark Kent played by John Belushi,' snickered Justin.

'I am soooo gonna getcha for that, Curly -'

'Shit. Anyways,' AJ overrode them, 'what is, is I'm down with it and it's cool, you guys are all my bros, and I loves ya. Deal?'

'Deal,' they chorused.

Howie looked over at Chris, then at the pool table. 'So you're not going to call me a maricon anymore when I beat your ass playin' pool?'

Chris grinned. 'Hey, I love ya an' I won't mean anything bigoted by it, 'mano - and besides, puto, you ain't ever gonna beat me at the pool table again.'

Howie pillowed him, laughing. 'Yeah, right, sinverguenza, as if you could ever play a game without scratchin'!'

Joey stood up with a huge grin. 'Gennlemen,' he intoned, 'th' bettin' at Joey's Housa Odds is open!'

Lenore, a barely-old-enough-to-vote suit named Jeremy who was there to watch over Amazon.com's interests, and a motherly lady named Eileen Maginnis from Amtrak, met me in the conference as I stowed my cell 'phone. In reply to Lenore's questioning look, I smiled.

'Just giving the conference room number to a contact at DoD, ma'am. I'm expecting some folks we rounded up to help out.'

'Major, I realize that the Army has suddenly elected to co-sponsor this trip, but I don't see that that puts you in charge.'

'Well, now, Little Miss, at the moment you're dealing with Amtrak and the Army, which means two of y'alls underwriters are Uncle Mule's nephews. And SecDef likes to get his money's worth, and draws a tight contract. I'm not trying to twitch the reins out your hands, but you'll see that I do have some say in what this tour does for DoD and recruiting. Which is why I have a proposition to make....'

Kev, Josh, and James had rejoined the others in the game room. Kevin had calmly taken control.

'Guys, for a few hours at least, I say we just hang here. Besides, there's some music I want us to listen to, and while we do, I want to see that Boricuan grudge match. Betting still open, Joe?'

I'd put my proposal on the table, to a stunned silence. Only Eileen Maginnis nodded.

Lenore was the first to recover. 'Starting the tour in Clarion itself, rather than Pittsburgh, is a nice gesture to Chris. Fine. And if starting it three days from now rather than two works for Jer and Eileen, I have no problem with it: these aren't ticketed, and our plans have always been to announce dates only the day or so before. But this idea that our boys should - damn it, they're pop groups, and this notion of changing their whole focus, and especially their doing some crazy war medley - you may not realize this, Major, but musicians these days aren't exactly Kate Smith cheerleaders for the Army.'

'Never said we were,' said a voice from the doorway. 'When I cut Johnny Has Gone For A Soldier, it didn't exactly revoke my liberal credentials.'

I greeted the newcomer. 'Glad you could make it, James. The others here?'

'In the hallway, Custis.'

They trailed in and I made the mostly unnecessary introductions. 'I believe all y'all will recognize most everybody. The tall one's Ray Benson, and that whole group's Asleep At the Wheel. James Taylor you surely know. Ricky Skaggs and Johnny Gimble. Lyle Lovett. Randy Newman. Rosemary Clooney, of course, and Ellis Marsalis. And the Tams - Jake will be in hog heaven. Folks, these good people are Lenore Williams, tour manager, Jeremy Connor for Amazon.com, and Eileen Maginnis of Amtrak, who's the only one here can make us run on time.'

Lenore finally closed her mouth and slewed around to face me. 'How in the hell did this come about!'

The boys' game had never gotten off the ground. When Kevin had started running through the CDs on Custis's playlist, everything had stopped. For all the mockery they endured, the boys at least wanted to be serious musicians.

'Well,' drawled Ray Benson. Only voice I knew that was deeper than mine - well, bar Sam Ramey, I suppose. 'Custis is an old pal of the US Army band's CO. And Custis ended up somehow organizing some concerts for troops and families during and after Desert Storm. So we know and trust him.'

'We all had open dates,' Ricky Skaggs said. 'I'm due in Huntington -'

'-We're in New York,' Johnny Gimble added, nodding over at AATW.

'- Boston Pops and I have some time booked,' Rosemary Clooney said.

'- I was headed to Cooperstown to discuss an exhibit on The Natural,' Randy Newman said.

'- Our Richmond gig's not all that out of the way from here,' was the explanation from The Tams.

'- Both Mr Marsalis and Lyle are due at NPR, and I'm playing Kennedy Center,' James Taylor finished. 'When Custis had his people contact us, we each got lucky. And the Gettysburg idea is great for those of us who're in on that. Then there's the train songs aspect for Amtrak, and some possible joint appearances for charity. We all were happy to agree - though you should have seen the mob scene downstairs when we showed up. Not only did we not expect to see the others -'

Rose Clooney roared with laughter. 'All those little girls down there! If they know me at all it's as George's aunt. But when their mommies saw "Sweet Baby James," or Lyle, or Ricky, and their Grannies spotted me, well! Your laddies have a lot to learn about crazy fans!'

Whilst the working group got down to business in the conference room, the bandmembers listened intently through the Major's tastes in music.

'I like that one a lot,' said James. 'The way the horns swing in.... We need to do things like that.'

'Yeah,' said Howie, 'Dixie Flyer is cool. I liked the beach music stuff - especially Backfield in Motion -'

'You would,' Nick quipped.

Howie threw him into a headlock and noogied him. 'Punk. We could do stuff like that though, and like Joe's dad's group, with some updating - some hiphop beats, and maybe ... JC, what about jazzing things up, literally? You're the jazz hound.'

'Hmm? Oh. Yeah. I was thinking mostly about a jazz vocalese arrangement of some stuff, like that Lambert, Hendricks, and Ross of Custis's - man that blew me away. And train songs, swing stuff like Sentimental Journey and The Atchison, Topeka, and the Santa Fe. What I thought was way cool was that Western swing Chattanooga Choo-Choo. If we modernized that....'

'Wait, though,' Kevin interjected. 'There are some things we do well. I'm with Howie on maybe updating some of those blue-eyed soul charts to our style, first off, though we do need to do some train songs for an Amtrak tour I guess. Scoop? Hey! Poofu, if you can get your tongue outta JC's mouth a minute?'

'Shit,' Chris grinned, 'while we're waitin' - Joe, what about some of the jazzy ballads Custis included. You up for those?'

'Hell, if Lyle Lovett can sing 'em, we sure can. Great musician, but his hair's worse than yours, dude. And that voice....'

'Hold it,' said James. 'Kevin, in case you've forgotten, priority one's getting up to speed on the Civil War tunes, Lift Ev'ry Voice, and that James Taylor track. I like that one: "Let us turn our thoughts today -"'

As James started singing and the others joined in, the door opened.

'"To Martin Luther King -". Glad you like that one. I can autograph the CD if you want.'

The boys stood there in shock. 'Sonuvabitch,' Nick breathed.

James Taylor led the senior stars into the room, chuckling.

Lance just looked at them, openmouthed. Then he tried to peer past them into the hallway. 'Major!!! You sneaky old so-and-so!'

Join us next time for another thrilling installment of Sentimental Journey. What other surprises does the Major have in store? Will musical critics suddenly start taking boybands seriously? Who knows what evil lurks - um, never mind. This exciting drama is brought to you courtesy of the Pierce-Arrow Motorcar Corporation. We now return you to the Blue Network's broadcast studios in Manhattan.

Sentimental Journey

by Ian McDuff

Standard Disclaimer: If descriptions of same-sex acts, feelings, &c are held to be - by any governmental entity asserting jurisdiction over you, or by your religion or moral framework - illegal, immoral, unethical, or fattening, read no further. If you are underage according to your local laws, read no further. If you have somehow managed not to notice until now that this is a gay site, read no further (and look into either corrective lenses or remedial English classes, because you've managed to miss about a dozen different warnings to get here at all). I need hardly say that the events and personalities depicted in this story are wholly figments of the author's rabid imagination, and in no wise should be taken to imply that any actual member of any boyband, or any celebrity known to mankind, or any real person, is or conceivably could be gay - least of all the members of 'N Sync and of the Backstreet Boys, all of whom are of course straight, well-dressed, intelligent, articulate, cultured, sweet-natured, and kind to their mommies. Major Lee also of course does not and cannot possibly exist - and I am certainly not he. (In fact, bits of him are borrowed from a lovably pompous writer pal of mine who has no idea he's gay....)

Sentimental Journey: Chapter Five

In Our Last Episode: Thrown together by Amtrak, the members of BSB and 'N Sync fall in with dashing young military historian and lawyer, the Virginia aristocrat Major Custis Lee. The Major swiftly takes charge of matters logistic and musical, getting the Army to cosponsor the 'Amtrak - VIA whistlestop tour,' and expanding the bands' musical horizons:

'I like that one a lot,' said James. 'The way the horns swing in.... We need to do things like that.'

'Yeah,' said Howie, 'Dixie Flyer is cool. I liked the beach music stuff - especially Backfield in Motion -'

'You would,' Nick quipped.

'Shit,' Chris grinned, 'while we're waitin' - Joe, what about some of the jazzy ballads Custis included. You up for those?'

'Hell, if Lyle Lovett can sing 'em, we sure can. Great musician, but his hair's worse than yours, dude. And that voice....'

As James started singing and the others joined in, the door opened.

'"To Martin Luther King -". Glad you like that one. I can autograph the CD if you want.'

The boys stood there in shock. 'Sonuvabitch,' Nick breathed.

James Taylor led the senior stars into the room, chuckling.

Lance just looked at them, openmouthed. Then he tried to peer past them into the hallway. 'Major!!! You sneaky old so-and-so!'

And Now, The New, Thrilling Installment of Our Serial:

I really did expect that the boys would keel over from surprise. And they nearly did. For a brief moment, they were suddenly simple fans themselves - the best thing for them, in a way. But just as they always did for their own starstruck admirers, the older musicians soon eased the boys' awe. Within a quarter hour, an ecstatic JC - and they assuredly had their public faces on to that extent - was seated at a keyboard next to Randy Newman, and with Ellis Marsalis standing over him, exponentially increasing his passion for jazz. Lance, Bri, and Kevin were huddled with Johnny Gimble, Lyle Lovett, Asleep At the Wheel, and Ricky Skaggs; Howie and AJ and Justin were hanging off every word James Taylor uttered; Chris and Joey were talking a mile a minute to the Tams, who knew Papa Fatone from his Orions days; and - as Rose told me later, with gusts of laughter - Nick was making her feel twenty again, and never once mentioning her nephew. (I imagine, much as she loves George, that that does get a bit tiresome.)

When Lenore came in after a final round of phone calls to announce the new schedule - which, to no one's surprise but her own, was the one I had first proposed: I have my limitations, but I can usually force an issue when I care to - she was walking on eggshells.

'Umm? Excuse me. Please. Band members, I have your new schedules. I'll pass them out when we get to the sound stage - sorry, I know I said we'd have the day off, but our guests, most of them, have to be going fairly soon and we've just enough time -'

JC cut her off. 'Lenore! If you think we're stupid enough to complain about a chance to work with a roomful of legends, you're crazy! Let's go!'

The bands' joint backing combo for the tour, a necessarily scaled down one, was less thrilled with the change in plans as they were driving to a local studio. That changed when they walked in.

'Hey! Who the hell's at our places - oh my God.'

Most of them were fairly much in shock well through the sound check. As the boys stood by the wall, studying scores, following along, the legendary voices of their seniors in the art ran through tunes, in various genres, that Custis Lee had suggested the boys learn. The sidesmen, still half dazed, soon got a groove and jammed along with the rest. Lyle Lovett had suggested, based no doubt on one of JC's enthusiasms, that the bands might eventually do a vocalese version of The Orange Blossom Special. For now, they could at least scat it: vocalese lyrics could come later, and with a roomful of genius, doubtless would. Johnny Gimble and AATW had their backs. About three bars in, Ray Benson stopped the music and looked at Johnny Gimble.

'We need one more bass and one more fiddle.'

Lyle Lovett chimed in, then. 'Didn't Lance there say they had two extra basses hangin' around, Ray?'

'Yeah, but we need one of 'em to play fiddle along with Johnny and Rick.' Big Ray Benson had a grin a mile wide.

Lance looked puzzled, then got it. He looked into the booth and waved. 'We need Jake and the Major here, now.'

'The union,' Randy Newman observed casually, 'is gonna shit.'

'Hell,' Lovett quipped, 'as Custis always says, "Remember, the Confederacy was non-Union!"'

In Orlando, the top tier of Management and the Label had come to a conclusion: between this unexpected Major and a too-good-to-refuse sponsorship by Army Recruiting, the matter was out of their hands. The only things they could do were count the revenues, trust that result of the new market strategy would be a tenth of what was promised, and hope this crazy cavalryman Fate had thrown into the works didn't give their product - which was how they thought of the boys - buzzcuts and uniforms.

Well, I suppose it was about my turn to be ambushed. Trust Ray and Lyle to pull a fast one on me and Jake. Jake did a few quick vocal exercises and joined the boys, whilst I tuned up a spare fiddle of Johnny Gimble's. He and I and Ricky Skaggs threw the lines around for a while, and then we all ran through the tune. After a quick chat with Lyle, Ellis Marsalis, and Randy Newman, we pulled in some horns and sax, fooled with the tempo, and let Ray think about it. Within another half-hour, we had pretty much lain down the idea that would eventually become a Western swing take on Orange Blossom Special, suitable for whatever vocalese riffs JC might drag the boys into.

After a final confirmation of future scheduling, we were about to shut it down when Rosemary stopped us.

'I know some of you handsome men need to work things up for tomorrow, and the rest of us need to scoot. But - everything printed out, Randy? You're a doll. Here - Mr Newman and I have had some ideas, and let's try Sentimental Journey one more time with all of us. Custis, dear, you can join Jake singing back-up. Lance is cutest, Kev's the sexiest, and Ray's loudest, but we still need more bass to balance me ... and that luscious young Howie on the high notes I can't hit any more.' I didn't think Howie could turn quite that red.

We studied the scores, then started.

Ellis Marsalis started us off, soon joined chromatically by Randy Newman at the keyboard. He'd orchestrated a lush, Paul Whiteman foundation, that was nonetheless suitable for what he and Rosemary had planned, playing to the boys' strengths. Rose Clooney sung the first few bars of the first verse, then went into a duet with Lyle to complete it. The key modulated, the instrumentals bridged from swing to Western swing into bebop, and finally took on a fusion-cum-R&B backbeat. Then Rosie hit it, swinging, and faded herself out as Nick and Justin took over, and then the boys as a whole came in, backed by the Tams, AATW, Lyle, Ricky, Jake, and me.

Lance and AJ finally got due recognition with solos, and there were duet passages with Nick and Kev (backed by a stunning jazzy mandolin ground from Ricky Skaggs), and then Lance and JC backed by brass, that were so good they worried me, they were so heartfelt: Nicky's plangency was too revealing, and Lance and JC sounded too good together.

As Howie and Rosie twined in a final descanted high note, Marsalis and Newman wrapped things up in a shimmering, melancholy cascade.

No one breathed for about nine beats afterwards. Then the sound man choked out, 'That, folks, is a wrap. Period. It don't get any better.'

After the others had left, and the Major had gone to make some phone calls over to Gettysburg, the bands ran threw the morrow's work with Jake, Ricky Skaggs, and James Taylor. Both of the latter were complimentary in the extreme.

Kevin blushed. 'Umm. Hearing that from y'all.... I can't thank you enough for what you're doing. This is like a dream come true....'

'Well,' Skaggs said, 'we are pretty impressed too. I have to admit I never thought y'all had it in you.'

'Oh, it's just as big a surprise to us,' said James. 'After years of teenies, and burger ads -'

'At least they haven't turned y'all into a dang comic book,' Brian muttered.

'Yeah,' said Joey, 'and I wanted to be in one, you guys always get the breaks.'

'Knock it off, guys,' Josh laughed. 'It was the Major who pushed us to see we didn't have to settle for being plastic.'

'Well, he's right,' Taylor said. 'We'll see you ten tomorrow. And I mean it: Custis is right, you guys can do a lot more than you ever thought you could.'

I had assumed that after dinner, everyone would crash. They had to be exhausted by all this. Most of them apparently were - though I noticed Nick and Howie missing at dinner, and Kevin just smiled when I quietly asked him where they'd gone. I needn't have been discreet: within fifteen minutes, everyone was placing bets on whether Nicky had asked D out first or vice versa.

Dinner was fairly quiet, and rather tiresomely occupied with thanks and compliments to me for the day's surprises and the new logistics and musical directions. I was counting on getting to bed at a decent hour.

Needless to say, about an hour after dinner, as I was finishing some lecture notes (after all, I still had my own job), there was a knock on the door. I had a feeling this was going to be an uncomfortable interview: it was Justin, with a hangdog look on his face.

I sighed, and ushered him in.

'I'm sorry, Custis,' he said tearfully. 'I just so need somebody I can talk to.'

'It's all right. I mean that. I - frankly, you just aren't looking too hot, and that fetched the sigh out of me. That and I'm tired.'

'I'll go-'

'Like hell you will. I do care. Start talking.'

For a few minutes, that was just what he couldn't do. He was drained, his eyes dull except for hovering tears. Finally he managed.

'Maj- uh, Custis. What do you really think of me?'

I looked him square in the eye. 'Justy, I think you're a nice kid going through hell. You've had a life, an adolescence, that would have deformed a lesser person. You've had to grow up in a fishbowl, and worse yet, do it as the mental sex toy of millions - most of them being the wrong sex at that. You've compensated - especially in these awkward years, teens and the approaching twenties, by creating a sneering, purse-mouthed, "too sexy for your shirt" image: which is belied by your obvious self-hatred and - Jesus, your posture screams how damn unhappy you are. The real you, though, that you are afraid to let show - and you've already apologized to Jake, so we'll leave that, permanently - is a bright, loving, cute, handsome, immensely talented, lovable young man who's a lot smarter and sweeter and frankly nicer in a suburban, boy next door way, than anyone outside a small, charmed circle will ever know. And, yeah, you're maybe, maybe bi, or gay: get over it. You have good reason not to exhibit that publicly, maybe, but the rest of the real you needs to be better known.'

When he responded, I could barely hear his small voice. 'Then why don't I have ... someone?'

'Christ, pal, you just came out yesterday. Give it time.'

'Well it sure didn't take Nicky and Howie long to hook up!'

'Yeah, so? They've been living in each other's pockets for years. Listen, son, get your lip off the floor. You've got more balls than to have a pity party over that. I'm sorry as dogshit that you're in a band with an odd number of gay members, all right? And I know perfectly well that part of the problem is that the person you've felt closest to for years, and been more than half in love with since before you knew what you felt, is taken - because if you don't think this is about Josh in large part, you'd be the only one who'd think so.'

He looked up at me then, pale as death. 'Jesus! Am I that fuckin' obvious? Oh God if everyone knows they'll shit I can't do this to Josh and Lansten I won't do this to them and the guys God the guys must -'

I took three quick strides over, pulled him to his feet, and hugged him. 'Justin, shut up. Stop babbling. Breathe. You only came out yesterday. Yes, Josh and James will probably be worried about this once it does occur to them - no, shush, not about your stealing Josh, worried about you because they love you to pieces, you goof. And sure, I picked up on it already, but that's because I'm old and have an outside perspective and have been in your Topsiders. Trust me, there aren't any side-bets on it.' That got a weak smile. It was a start. 'It isn't a topic of conversation, and if it ever becomes so - unless you act like an idiot, which I know you won't - it would at most be along the lines of, "Gee, I hope Justy's okay. We need to find him a nice hot guy."'

He did smile then. 'Somehow I don't trust Chris or Joey's taste in guys.'

'Probably a wise idea. I shudder to think what they'd drag home for you. Now. Look, handsome, I know this is tough for you. But it's going to work out. No one as incredible as you will go very long without finding love - just don't settle for anything less, promise me. You deserve the best, the real thing. And it may be right under your nose and you've ignored it because you've been ignoring yourself. Just keep your eyes open, and have faith. Deal?'

'Deal,' he sighed. I felt him shift a little in my arms and suddenly realized that my well-meant advice might, just might, have been misread. I gently disengaged before any intention - a liplock comes to mind, and while it would have been mind-blowing, I'm sure, it would have been wrong - before any intention could fully form. I mussed his curls, which was a stretch for me at my height, and smiled at him. 'Remember. The real thing, and don't settle for anything less.'

I saw his face change, not miserably, thank God, and a faint blush on his features. I'd been wise to step back. 'I promise,' he said. 'And - thanks, again.'

'What friends are for, friend. Now get some sleep.'

Meanwhile, Howie and Nick were back, floating along the corridor, hand in hand, full of linguine al pesto, California merlot, and zuppa inglese. Nick walked Howie to the door of his suite.

Howie looked at him, tenderly. 'Nick.... Nick, that was the most wonderful evening....'

'Well,' Nick smirked, 'any guy who double-dates with his sister -'

'Can you believe no one ever picked up on why that was?'

'Shuddup and kiss me,' Nick growled.

Howie leaned forward. It was as if time slowed and stretched. Nick felt, rejoiced in, the prickle of whiskers. Howie trembled as he tasted Nick's lips, and trembled again as Nick's tongue probed his mouth. They lost themselves in a deep kiss as passionate as it was tender. Howie -

'Get a room,' said Kevin from behind them. They spun around.

'Kev, can I swap and move in with Howie, please, can I?'

'Whoa, Nicky. Aren't you two takin' it a little fast?'

'Damn it, Kevin, I spent years -'

'Hold it. Nick. Y'all do what you want. Use your judgment, and you'd best well have some to use. Either one of you hurts the other, though, I'll be kickin' ass and not botherin' to take names. In case you'd forgot, I - all of us - love the hell out you both, and don't want to see either of you hurt.'

Howie and Nick grabbed Kevin and hugged him. 'Sorry, Kev.'

'D, it's cool. I just care about you both, deal?'

'Thanks, Kevy. You're right,' said Nick. 'We need t' cool our jets. But Sweet D, lemme tell you, if you liked this date, just stick around. Gonna be a lot more, each better than the last.'

'I'm counting on that.' With a tender kiss, Howie went inside. Kevin walked - half-carried, by necessity - an ecstatic, speechless Nick to his door and shoved him into the suite. 'When you touch ground, go to bed,' Kev smiled, and left him.

Duty may be a sublime word, but it can be a right nuisance. I'd hardly calmed Justin down and sent him off to bed when James showed up. In fact, they passed in the hall, and I was pleased and relieved to see Justin stop, hug James, and tell him softly, 'Scoop, I want you and Josh both to know how much we all 'preciate you two, and what you did in talkin' us through things last night.'

James hugged him back and told him, 'We're always here for y'all, and you especially, Just. Always. Now get some sack time.'

When he came on in and sat down, James sighed and smiled at me. 'Custis, you must be sick of us already. I sure am sorry to keep you - should I let you go on, maybe catch you tomorrow?'

'James Lance Bass, as a very wise and good man once said, and damn recently at that, "I'm always here for y'all, always." Now what's up?'

'"Wise and good"? You have got to be kiddin' me.'

'I'm not even joshing you,' I grinned.

'Ouch. Smart aleck. I guess though that's the problem.' He hesitated. 'Custis? All of a sudden, Josh and I - it's like we're suddenly role models for those three.... And I don't know if I can do it.'

'Why not?'

'B- because.... Well. Umm. I don't have all the answers....'

'Nor do I. Hell, James, I don't even know where they keep the answers. But you don't have to have all the answers to be a role model for your friends. In fact, letting them know just how you feel about that along with all the rest is part of what you should do, mentorin' them. They need to know that comin' out, however quietly, isn't an end, but a beginning, and that it doesn't suddenly make everything perfect. Not by a long chalk. It creates new struggles. They need to know that, and you strike me as a good teacher, you and Josh.'

'Josh, maybe....'

'James? What's all this really about?'

He looked at the floor for a good long spell. 'Should - should I give Josh up, now that Justin's out?'

'Have you lost your cotton-pickin' mind? Do you want to give him up?'

'No, of course not! But he and Just go so far back and always meant so much to each other and it's not like I'm good enough for Josh -'

'Says whom?' (Okay, I'm a stickler. So sue me.) 'For a damn Baptist you must have been drinkin' a lot of Sterno, son. First off, you two have a love that lights up the damn sky, and it's so obviously mutual that quite frankly it sometimes hurts to watch! That's imprimis; secundum, Josh obviously thinks you're good enough, because he loves you more than a lot of folks can bear to see, God damn it. Tertium, he's right. You are sweet, sexy as all hell, smart, you're remarkably "together" for a man your age, have a heart the size of the Chesapeake Bay, you're drop-dead gorgeous, and the two of you are the most heart-tugging couple from here to Richmond -'

'Custis! Custis. Look at me. I'm a spare tire waiting to happen, I don't have half the body he has, I'm a total goofball, I look like a damn chipmunk, I -'

'Bullshit. When you aren't pasting on that fake, public smile, when it's the special smile you have for him or the almost-as-special one you save for here with those who love James, not Lance, you are so damn cute Josh has to be the luckiest sumbitch alive, and when you aren't smiling or wearing a damn mask, you are so smolderingly sexy he ought to be on his knees giving thanks every night - and vice damn versa, because you have the unparalleled blessing of having a boyfriend, no, a lover, who's exactly as wonderful as you are and neither less nor more so. God damn it, James, do the two of you have any idea how incredibly fortunate y'all both are?'

'I do,' said Josh, softly, from the doorway. We both spun around.

'Sorry, but I heard y'all through the bathroom wall. No one else would have. James, we'll talk in a minute and I'll tell you - show you - on my, um, knees, just how worthy you are and how lucky I am. Right now, I'm more worried about Custis.' He came in and shut the door, and he and James hoisted me onto the bed and held me between them. 'Ever since you got on the train we've expected you to carry our burdens, which is a hell of a way to do someone we hardly knew yet: and you've done more for us than anyone could ever have done.... But I heard what you were saying about how it kinda hurts you to see it - no, I know what you meant, and I know you are glad for us - I bet it's about the way Just feels, except that I'm a complication there, and I worry about how he'll handle that. But right now it's your turn to be worried about.'

They hugged me tighter. I felt the tears begin to prickle, and of course forced myself not to break.

'Custis ... you deserve someone so much. Why can't you see that? Why don't you believe you'll find that?'

'Precedent,' I said grimly.

'Justin is half in love with you already...' Lance suggested, tentatively.

'God damn it, that is a No-Go, how many people do I have to tell? Kev, Justy himself, y'all.... In the first damn place, I'm already hopelessly in love with someone, and boy is that adjective the mot juste, and even if I weren't, I'd have to be fifteen years younger and fifty times better than I am to be worth Justy's time or anybody else's for that matter, and finally he and all y'all are like, you're like sons to me already, the sons I'll never have.... Shit, I'm living out a gay fantasy, surrounded by the ten top fantasy subjects in the world, and all I feel is fatherly. Jesus Christ.'

They just hugged me wordlessly.

'Custis?'

'Yes, Josh.'

'You and my baby have the same problem, don't you. I mean about, well, self-image. And you're both crazy to feel that way. I'm going to show you what I mean, right now. James?' We both turned as Josh stood, took James's hand in his, and dropped to a knee.

'Um, I can give you gentlemen some privacy,' I muttered. Josh just patted my hand before turning back to James.

'James. This isn't when and how I'd planned this and I don't have with me, well, what I wanted to, but we can do that later, you need this now, I need this now. At your own pace, when you are ready, fine, but James - you know I love you more than life and longer than it, you know I worry about being good enough for you, and want to make sure you never leave me: James Lance Bass, will you marry me?'

'Oh God yes, Josh! Yes!' They embraced in tears of joy and soft kisses, then grabbed me and drew me into the hug.

'Custis, that is sure to come for you, I promise, we promise: you will find this too, just like James and I, even though or maybe because neither of us feels quite good enough for the other, and thinks the other one's all that and a bag of chips. Don't you see?'

I cleared my throat. 'I see one thing, gentlemen, and that is the most adorable couple and two of the best damn friends a man could hope to know. Thank you. Now, if I'm going to have a shot at that sort of happiness, I need my beauty rest.' They took the cue and wandered, between kisses, to the door.

'Oh, and gentlemen? I sleep fairly soundly, even with ecstatic newly-engaged couples next door.' They blushed and smiled, and I heard them racing to their own suite next door.

I stripped down and hit the sack. I knew they couldn't hear me as I sighed, 'I'm glad for y'all and appreciate the sentiment, but if you think that made me feel better....'

Join us next time for another thrilling installment of Sentimental Journey. What will happen at Gettysburg? What about Justin and the Major? Who knows what evil lurks - um, never mind. This exciting drama is brought to you courtesy of the Eagle Hand Laundry: "If your eagle's hands are dirty, we'll wash them." We now return you to the news, with H. V. Kaltenborn.