turps

I hope this is what you were looking for, hon.

Howie sits on the stone steps staring into the distance. Behind him he can hear the muffled sounds of laughter and the beat of drums -- more of a feel than a sound. It’s hot and Howie tips his head back, lifting his hair from his neck with one hand. The sun feels fantastic; warming his skin with its soothing heat and Howie shuts his eyes enjoying the moment.

“Hey.”

Howie opens his eyes and sees Chris standing above him. Chris looks huge from this angle, a giant looking down from above. The thought of Chris being a giant amuses Howie and he snickers a little then pats the step next to him. “Sit down, I’ve got us lunch.”

“Something good I hope.” Chris tries to peer in the bag that’s at Howie’s feet so Howie picks it up, putting it on his knee.

“Depends on what you mean by good.” Opening the bag, Howie pulls out two pre-packed sandwiches and two cans of soda. Looking at the labels he passes the meat sandwich to Chris, keeping the salad for himself.

“You went to the vending machine, you romancing bastard you.” Chris sounds amused but Howie knows the choice had been a good one. Chris likes to eat cheap at times, and he smiles happily as he pulls his sandwich from its protective layer.

Leaving his own sandwich, Howie closes his eyes again. He’s tired and just wants to sit close to Chris, drinking in the sun. Recording the album is fantastic, but it’s still hard work, almost as hard as remembering how to be a Backstreet Boy again.

“This reminds me of our first date.”

Puzzled, Howie looks at Chris. “Sitting here reminds you of going to the cinema?”

Chris laughs, almost dropping half of his sandwich to the ground in the process, then turns serious. “That wasn’t our first date.”

“It wasn’t?” Howie’s sure it was. He can remember how nervous he’d been as he picked Chris up and the way he’d agonised over the right clothes to wear for two hours before-hand. Chris had been wearing faded jeans that clung to his ass and a shirt that fell low over his hands. Howie can’t remember what movie they’d seen, some kind of war film he thinks, at least he’d seen soldiers when he surfaced for air from Chris’ kisses. They’d been in the back row, hidden in a dark corner and Howie knows he’ll never forget that night. It’s kind of disappointing that Chris has.

“I swear Dorough, two weeks back with them and you’re losing brain cells again. It’s a good job I’m here to keep you right.” Chris takes a bite of his sandwich, slowly chewing and Howie resists the urge to tell him to get on with it already. “Our first date was on the steps after choir practice. Remember? My car was off the road and I’d missed the chance of a lift. You’d been to see Prof. Evans and for some reason you decided to talk to me on the way out. We talked so long I missed my bus so you treated me to a coffee and a donut while I waited for the next one. That was our first date.”

Howie smiles, touched Chris remembers the meeting so clearly, though he shouldn’t be, Chris always remembers the important things. Like the way he’s here now, casually supporting as Backstreet try to gel again.

“Ah I thought you meant official dates.” Howie leans against Chris will long practiced familiarity, sleepy and content.

“It’s not your fault. An hour with Carter and I’d be confused too.”

Howie lets the gentle jibe go. Chris and Nick are friends, have been since they bonded over video games and sports. But Chris wouldn’t be Chris if he didn’t insult and Howie loves Chris just the way he is.

In interviews if anyone asks about Valencia, Howie will mention how Chris was in his choir class. What he doesn’t mention is Valencia’s the place that Chris first became one of the most important people in his life then stayed that way.