CHAPTER 6

That Friday was going to be a busy day for Kevin. The group was planning to hit four radio stations and one hospital. They could look forward to interviews throughout the weekend and tour rehearsals would begin on Monday. He woke up before the alarm sounded, which was very unusual, but he had become restless. He was restless because he was in bed alone. When he had reached his hands out for Tristan in his sleep and they had come back empty, his subconscious had seemed to slap him awake. Damn. He hated to wake up alone. He enjoyed those moments between waking up and actually getting out of bed. That was quality snuggle time as far as he was concerned. If the snuggling got a little intense, all the better. Best way to start the day. Little Kev, it seemed, was already awake and wanted to play.

Kevin cracked open his eyes and looked at the clock. The glowing numbers read 5:30 AM. It was still dark outside. He lifted his head to look towards the bathroom and saw that the door was open and the light off. She wasn’t in there. He didn’t want to move, but his curiosity, along with some prompting by Little Kev was getting the best of him. Kevin pulled himself out of bed and, not even bothering with boxers, wrapped the blanket around himself like a cloak and padded down the stairs. When he reached the first landing, he could smell coffee brewing and something baking in the oven. His stomach growled its appreciation. Then he heard Tristan’s musical laugh and followed the notes into the dining room. The table was covered with file folders and papers and Tristan stood at the far end, her back to the doorway. She was talking on the phone or rather, listening. Every few second she would giggle or laugh. Kevin couldn’t imagine who could be calling her or what could be so humorous at this hour. Hell, what was funny at 5:45 in the morning? He eavesdropped trying to figure out who the caller was.

“Oh Mason, I have missed you! Do I have a ton of work waiting for me?.....Really?........Okay......Sure.....What’s the number?.........I’ll be there! I can’t wait to see you...Byeeeee”

She hit the hang up button and Kevin heard her sigh and watched her stretch.

“Who the fuck is Mason and why are you talking to him at this hour?”

Tristan whirled around, startled, and then gazed at Kevin with some amusement. Here stood the famous Kevin Backstreet, standing barefoot in the doorway, wrapped in a blanket and scratching his crotch, with a bristly face, squinted up eyes, frown and bed head. God, he was beautiful.

“Kevin, what a gutter mouth first thing in the morning! Why are you up so early? You still have a half hour of sleep time!”

“I woke up and you were gone.” he pouted. “It’s cold! I wanted to cuddle...” “Awww, poor baby....” Tristan walked towards him slowly, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. When she reached him, she put her arms around his blanket covered shoulders. His head fell down to the crook of her neck, nuzzling her. He began to unfold his arms to bring her into the blanket with him. He wanted to feel her warmth pressed up against his naked body and.....

DING!

Tristan jumped back. “Oooops! Cinnamon buns!” She scurried away into the kitchen.

Shit! He sighed and followed her to the oven. “Damn Tris.....” he whined. “Come on...just leave those things!”

“Why are you so grumpy Kevin?” Tristan asked, setting the hot pan on the stove top. “I made these just for you! They’re caramel- apple cinnamon.....”

“Caramel- apple cinnamon?” he asked raising his brows. His stomach was about to issue a challenge to Little Kev. “With icing?”

“With icing....”

Tristan lifted the bowl with one hand and let the vanilla cream frosting fall from the spoon she held in the other. Kevin started to move to the kitchen table. He stopped when he felt a twitch from Little Kev, diverting his attention from Mr. Stomach.

“Little Kev got up early this morning. He wanted to play but nobody was home.” Kevin sulked.

Tristan shook her head, laughing. Kevin was like a petulant child when he got up too early.

“That’s not entirely true.” Tristan said as she spread the icing across the hot buns. “What about his five playmates at the end of your arm?”

“Fuck them, Tris.....He doesn’t like to play with them anymore....”

“Do you want one of these, Kevin?”

Tristan held the pan up under his nose. He watched the creamy icing melt into the valleys of cooked dough. Damn they smell good! Mr. Stomach growled again. Tristan was growing impatient. Apparently Kevin’s dilemma was a little too much for him to handle so early in the morning.

“Tell you what, Kevin...How about you just relax and lean yourself up against the counter and I’ll go down on you while you eat your cinnamon buns and drink your coffee!”

Kevin’s eyes grew wide and he sighed deeply. His lips began to curl into a smile. A perfect world....

“Forget it Kevin! I was just kidding! Jeez....”

She was interrupted by someone at the door. “Boy, you were saved by the bell...” Tristan scowled and went to the front door.

AJ, Brian and Howie were standing on the stoop. The limo was at the curb and Nick pulled up just as they were entering the house.

“You guys are early!” Kevin growled. He met them in the foyer, blanket still wrapped around his body, bare legs sticking out below the blanket, hair askew.

The group stopped to stare at Kevin.

“Lord, how I have missed this ray of sunshine in the morning!” Brian smirked, pointing at his cousin. He walked into the kitchen followed by Nick and Howie. “Something smells good, Tris!”

AJ stood directly in front of Kevin, meeting his hard eyes and frown. Kevin hadn’t moved and AJ had become amused at his stance and morning attire. AJ raised his right hand.

“I bring greetings, Chief Pain-In-Ass. We go over hills to meetum fans and makum talk in magic box. We makum much wampum. Chief can trade for moccasins and new ceremonial blanket.”

AJ laughed and followed the others into the kitchen where Tristan was cutting into the pan of buns.

Kevin grumbled and started up the stairs to the shower. He didn’t know why everybody had to be a God damned comedian first thing in the morning. He stopped at the first landing and yelled into the kitchen.

“Don’t you pecker heads go and eat all of my fucking caramel- apple cinnamon buns!”

********

When Mason’s plane landed, Tristan was there to meet it. She was so happy to be seeing him again. After her attack over two years ago, Mason had gone to Europe and worked at the agency’s French offices. Now he had been brought back to the United States and was anxious to work with Tristan again.

Mason MacArthur had been Tristan’s assistant, friend and shoulder to cry on when her career began. He had worked for her agent originally but then had become Tristan’s assistant and worked for her exclusively. He took care of her contracts, publicity and accounts. He ran errands, made phone calls and took care of a great deal of her personal business. He often spoke when he should have been quiet but that was a small fault compared to his positive qualities. Mason’s shortcomings were generally personal and whether or not they were actually bad really lay in the eye of the beholder.

Mason was a very handsome man of thirty years, and elegant dresser with impeccable taste and a gourmet. He had collected hundreds of contacts over the years mostly in the classical fields of music, drama and dance. Both his strength and his weakness lay in the fact that he was unabashedly gay. Mason’s closet door was wide open and he had stepped out a long time ago. He wasn’t what some would call a ‘flaming queen’ but his mannerisms and interests were somewhat feminine and he was an outrageous flirt. Mason loved Tristan to death and she trusted him completely. They had hit it off immediately. Homosexuality had never been discussed at her house and, as a result, she hadn’t formed any prejudices. They were like old girlfriends who could share anything. He was the best of both worlds - a man who could be your escort for the evening and take you dancing or to the theater and also discuss, in great detail, the latest fashion collections and make-up trends. He was a great addition to any bitch session and he was safe. Tristan treated and listened to him like he was an older sister. She had long ago grown used to the fact that he preferred sleeping in women’s nightgowns and favored the scent of ‘White Shoulders’ as his cologne.

He was usually not offended by attacks or teasing about his sexuality, assuming that most people were, essentially, ignorant, but he got defensive if anyone questioned his masculinity. This had led to some problems in the past because people often did. Mason had heard that Tristan had become romantically involved and he was genuinely happy for her, especially considering the emotional blows she had taken. He didn’t really know any details about her year long relationship but assumed they would be forthcoming when he and Tristan were reunited.

Mason’s office wasn’t quite ready yet and he still had to find a place to live. This had secretly delighted Tristan because she had been able to insist that he stay with her and Kevin until he found a place. Mason was happy about this, too. He had recently broken up with his long time companion, Charles, and felt like a change of scenery would be good for him especially with a dear friend close by. He knew that Tristan had been out of circulation lately despite the glorious reviews she had received last September. He hadn’t heard the reasons why she had all but disappeared again from the music scene. Perhaps he had been too wrapped up in his own personal drama to worry about finding out. It would be his job to bring her up to speed and deal with her career and business which had been too long neglected.

Tristan hadn’t discussed all of this with Kevin yet. She had planned to speak to him that morning but things had gotten crazy and he had left earlier than planned. Her agent had been in contact with her but she hadn’t bothered Kevin with that, especially with his tour coming up. She hadn’t known until that morning that Mason would be brought in to help her. She was sure that Kevin wouldn’t mind him staying with them for a little while. He was bound to love Mason as much as she did.

*********

When Kevin came into the house later that evening, the delicious aroma of roasted garlic greeted him. Tristan’s fixing something special tonight - she’s probably planned a quiet, romantic evening. Kevin grinned and then called into the kitchen. “Hey baby, I’m home! Come here and give me a little bit of that sugar I didn’t get to taste this morning!”

When she didn’t answer, he smiled and took his time hanging his jacket in the hall closet. She’s playing coy with me.

“Come on, hon! I’ve got some serious suckin’ on my mind...” Kevin laughed to himself. He was going to have to work for it tonight. That was okay - he didn’t mind.

Finally a response echoed from the kitchen.

“Stop teasing me, you monster!”

Kevin froze in his tracks. That definitely wasn’t Tristan’s voice. Not unless she had taken a mega dose of fast acting testosterone. Kevin peeked around the kitchen door and spotted Mason standing at the burners, sautéing a pan full of shrimp in butter. Mason met his stare and smiled sweetly.

“Tristan?” Kevin cried out loudly, never taking his eyes off of the chef.

“She just ran out to pick up some cream. She’ll be back any second..” Mason winked.

Much to his relief, Kevin heard the front door open and Tristan came up behind him carrying a small bag.

“Hi, sweetheart!” Tristan said, giving Kevin a squeeze. “I see you’ve met Mason.”

“Not really...” Kevin said quietly, still keeping his eyes glued on the stanger..

Mason walked over to Tristan and grabbed the bag from her hand. Something about his walk was a little too graceful and Kevin could have sworn he smelled a sweet cologne on Mason. This guy smelled like his mother.

“Thank you, Precious!” Mason leaned down and gave Tristan a peck on the lips.

Kevin’s eyebrows formed high arches on his forehead. He felt like a third wheel.

“Tristan,,,” Kevin said slowly, “ are you going to introduce us?” She recognized the ‘what the hell’s going on?’ look he shot her.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she giggled. “Kevin, this is Mason MacArthur. Mason, this is...”

“You don’t have to tell me who he is, Tris! J’adore les garcons!”

“What?” Kevin seemed perplexed, not only by what was said but by who was saying it.

Tristan laughed. “He said that he adores the boys...”

“Who is he?” Kevin asked her softly, trying his best to be subtle.

Mason heard the question and sighed, placing his hands on his hips for a display of mock exasperation. Then he began to wag his finger in Tristan’s face. Kevin tried to control the thoughts flowing through his brain, but it was difficult.

“I swear, Precious! You didn’t tell him about me, did you? I’m going to have to spank your bottom!”

Spank her bottom?

Mason looked at Kevin and tried to explain. “I’m Tristan’s assistant. I have arrived to take care of her!” He turned and walked back to his shrimp.

Kevin’s tone became a little cocky. “Well, thank you sooo much, Mason, but I think I can take care of Tristan just fine.”

“I’m sure you can, Kevin.” Mason looked Kevin up and down in a way that made him a little uncomfortable. “But I’m speaking of her career. You know, business.”

“I guess I wasn’t aware that Tristan had or needed an assistant.” Kevin was speaking to Mason, but glaring at Tristan. She didn’t understand why he was acting so peculiar.

“How many people work on behalf of the Backstreet Boys, Kevin? A couple of hundred at least, I’ll bet. I realize that Tristan’s career can’t compare to yours, but I don’t think that one assistant is excessive, do you?” Mason’s nose had risen an inch into the air.

Kevin’s arms crossed over his chest. Tristan could see that the pissing contest was about to begin in earnest.

“No, I don’t think that’s excessive, Mason. I just didn’t realize that she had so many things that needed taking care of. What qualifies you to do that?”

“I’ve done it before, Kevin - long before you guys ‘had it goin’ on’, so to speak.”

Tristan broke into the exchange, trying to lighten it up.

“I’ve known Mason for a long time, Kevin. He was a great help. Why, he even cooked for me, didn’t you Mason? You put plenty of pounds on me!”

“I did. I think you could stand to put a few of those pounds back, too.” He shot Kevin an accusing look as he stirred some cream into the shrimp.

“I think she’s fine.” Kevin scowled.

“Oh, look! Somebody’s got a present!” Tristan was trying desperately to change tone and route of this conversation. She had picked up a wrapped package off of the kitchen counter.

Mason turned off the burner and turned to her grinning. “Pour vous, mon petit chou!”

“What?” Kevin asked impatiently.

Tristan began to unwrap the package excitedly. “For you, my little cabbage...”, she translated.

“That’s a good thing to call somebody?” Kevin said sarcastically. “A cabbage?”

The writing on the box read ‘La Vie D’Amour’ - Paris, France. Tristan started bouncing up and down.

“Oh, Mason! You didn’t!”

“I did!” he laughed.

“You didn’t!”

“No, I really did!”

“What the fuck did he do?!” Kevin shouted, exasperated by this display.

“He went shopping at my favorite store! I’ve never even been in there. I’ve just ordered things from them!” She turned to Mason. “Is it wonderful?” she asked him.

“Darling, it is absolutely glorious! You would just die!”

Tristan pulled the top off of the box and gasped with delight. She pulled out a deep amethyst colored demi cup bra made of silk . Small violets had been appliqued across the cups and up the straps. Kevin blinked, not quite believing that the person standing in his kitchen had purchased intimate apparel for his...his...woman. He was speechless.

“Oh, Mason....it’s beautiful!” she gushed.

Mason beamed and walked over to her, pressing the garment against her chest.

“You’re still a 34C, I hope...You have lost weight!” He shot Kevin another look.

Kevin’s mouth was hanging open. What was wrong with Tristan? Why didn’t she seem to see anything odd about this? Yoo hoo, Tristan. Remember me? Why is this asshole buying you French underwear? Why does he know your breast size?

“There’s more!” Mason grinned. He reached into the box and pulled out matching panties. “I can’t wait to see these on you!”

When he held them up to Tristan’s hips, assessing his choice of panty style, Kevin found his voice. See them on her? Not in this life!

“What? No matching garter belt, Mason?” He spat out angrily, stomping over to the pair and grabbing the panties from Mason’s hands.

Mason was miffed. Again his hands went to his hips.

“Tristan prefers thigh-highs....”

“I think I know what Tristan prefers, you arrogant motherfu....”

“Kevin! Please!” Tristan shouted at him angrily.

Mason’s eyes were hard and Kevin looked like he was going for the throat any second. Then Mason’s face began to soften and a smile found its way to his lips. Soon he was laughing out loud.

“You haven’t told him, have you Tris?” Mason roared.

“Told me what?” Kevin yelled, glaring angrily at Tristan. “Is there something I should know? Something that I have a right to know?”

Tristan stepped over to Kevin and took his clenched fists in her hands, stroking them lightly. Kevin was breathing as if he had just run a mile long race.

“Kevin, sweetie....calm down....” She rubbed his arm and spoke soothingly.

Mason was still grinning as Tristan put her arms around Kevin’s neck and whispered seductively and secretly into his ear.

“Kevin, darling...you know I love you, don’t you?”

“Yes....” Kevin had closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her breath in his ear, even though he was mad as hell.

“Please don’t worry about Mason. He just wants to make sure that his gift fits me well and looks good.” Tristan ran the tip of her tongue around the inside of Kevin’s ear. He leaned his head closer to her mouth and sighed. “He doesn’t care about me in that way.” she continued. “Mason would much rather see those pretty things on you.”

Tristan stepped back to watch as her words made their impression on Kevin’s brain. After a couple of seconds, she saw his eyes widen with comprehension.

“Oh....”

Email Grace

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