Pairing: Brian and Chris
Words: humid; boil; infinite; elude


"You know," Chris said, looking down at Brian, who was lying
sprawled on his side, just barely above the water line, sunburnt,
water-logged, and gasping like a fish, but for air, not water, "I
can't figure out if this is bad karma working itself out, or if
fate just really has a bizarre sense of humor."

Brian gave him a look and Chris sighed, bent over, and put his
hands under Brian's armpits and dragged him further up the shore,
well above the lapping ocean.

Brian shivered violently, and Chris stripped off his own clothes,
then started stripping Brian, who was moving weakly.

"Stop it," Chris said fiercely.  "If you're trying to help, it
isn't working.  And if you're fighting, you're not doing a very
good job of that either."

Brian subsided, and Chris wrestled his own warm, dry clothes onto
Brian.  They didn't quite fit, but it was close enough, and the
rate of Brian's shivers slowed immediately.  Chris, left in his
underwear, started wringing out Brian's wet clothing.

"Why fate in its infinite wisdom decided it needed to strand *two*
boybanders on this island completely eludes me," Chris continued. 
Brian laid there and watched him.  "I mean, obviously I'm being
punished for something I've done, but if that's the case, I'd
expect to see someone else with me other than you.  An American
Idol maybe.  That guy from 'Riverdance', Miguel Flatfoot.  The
entire cast of 'Barney'.  You know.  People who're going straight
to hell.  Not you."

Brian coughed what might have been an agreement or just his lungs
trying to adjust to the notion of breathing air rather than keeping
out water.

Chris spread the wet clothing out on the sand, gave Brian a look,
then sighed long-sufferingly.  "The things I do for the good of
humanity," and laid down next to him, wrapping him in an embrace.

Brian snuffled gratefully into his shoulder.  "Thanks," he forced
out through clenched teeth.

Chris rubbed Brian's back and arms, going up and down as far as he
could reach, then hooked a leg over Brian's.  Brian curled further
into him.  "This feel like a really bad remake of 'From Here To
Eternity' only I think I was supposed to end up with a sexier
blonde."

"How do... you... think *I* feel?" Brian asked.

"Hey!  Was that a *joke*?  That sounded like a joke.  You're
feeling better.  I knew this was just an excuse on your part to get
me to feel you up.  And, frankly, I'm appalled.  You could have
gotten me so much easier by just coming up to me at home and
saying, 'Chris, I've always wanted your hot body'.  Because, you
know, I've spent my whole life just waiting to hear those words
from you."

Brian laughed weakly and, encouraged, Chris went on.  "So really,
throwing yourself shamelessly at me like this wasn't necessary. 
I'm easy.  Ask anyone.  A handful of M&Ms and I'll follow you
anywhere.  Handful of almond M&Ms and I'll chase you there."

"Do I want to know what you'd do for Skittles?"

"You sneak!  You're feeling better!  Hah!  I knew you always wanted
me.  You're not really cold at all.  You're just faking it 'cause
you like the talented Kirkpatrick hands."  Chris didn't let go of
him, nor did he stop rubbing Brian, trying to get him warmer. 
"And, for the record, I spit on your lowly Skittles.  Without
chocolate, they're mere artificially fruit-flavored sugar, devoid
of meaning or real value."

"You're crazy."

"Yep.  All part of my wacky off-beat charm.  Bet you say that to
all the guys who give you the shirts off their backs."

"No," Brian said.  "To them, I say, 'thanks'."

"You're welcome.  So, how did you end up here?  I know how I got
here, but needless to say, you aren't the rescue party I was hoping
for."

Brian started coughing, and Chris held onto him, hands moving up to
cradle Brian's head and keep him from bashing it into Chris' chest. 
When the spasms stopped, he said hoarsely, "Nick," as if that one
word explained it all.

Chris nodded wisely.  Perhaps it did.  "JC.  Boat lovers.  Maniacs,
all of them.  You'd think they'd notice when they lose a passenger
overboard, but no.  They don't even have really good handrails to
prevent their totally stoned victims from toppling over the side
when they try to touch the pretty, sparkly water."

Brian started wheezing again, and Chris' hands resumed their firm
grasp on Brian's head again before realizing that Brian was merely
laughing, not trying to cough up a lung.

"It's not that funny.  Okay, so, it's even funnier when realize I
thought I was a lobster and I'd fallen into the pot and was going
to be boiled alive and eaten for dinner with some butter."

"You didn't."

"I did."  Chris looked meditative.  "I wonder if JC's noticed yet."

Snorting laughter, then Brian calmed and shook his head.  "He has."

"Oh.  Cool.  So the word's out.  And now that I'm no longer
distracted by having gotten to see your nearly naked body, I'm
suddenly finding it really suspicious that you just happened to be
in the area.  I mean, yeah, I understand the attraction of high
humidity, nasty bugs and nearly drowning -- I wouldn't be here if
I didn't, now would I? -- but I was kinda hoping for the Coast
Guard, not the Backstreet Boys."

"We sing better," Brian offered in a slow drawl.

"You're also probably prettier.  Er, in a handsome manly sense, of
course."

"Yep."

"So are you going to tell me what you're doing here or am I going
to have to torture it out of you with the patented Kirkpatrick
tickle technique?"

Chris waited for a minute for an answer, then looked down and
realized, with some chagrin, that Brian had managed to fall asleep. 
Complete with sniffling snores and drool.

****

Brian only slept for a couple of hours.  Chris had fortuitously
laid Brian's wet clothing close enough to reach with one hand. 
Doing so joggled Brian around a bit, but he didn't wake up.  The
Backstreet equivalent of JC, who could sleep through a hurricane
and then, after he woke up, wonder where the house had gone to, and
for that matter, where did those really cool ruby slippers that
were sticking out from under the bed come from?

He'd turned the clothes over once to let the sun get to the other
side.  They were very sandy now, but a bit drier.  Going stiff with
the sun.  He'd considered putting at least the shirt on, but that
was sure to wake Brian up, and Chris didn't want to do that, not
until the matter became a little more urgent.

Because Brian needed the body heat to get warm.  Never mind that
he'd almost completely stopped shivering while he was still awake.

Never mind that Brian had completely ignored or overlooked every
overture of gay lust that had come out of Chris' mouth.

No, wait.  Mind that.  Mind that very much.

Chris fumed while stroking Brian's hair.  Really.  Was that so much
to ask for?  A nice heterosexual freak-out on Brian's part would
have been something.  Of course, Brian was who he was.  Not exactly
a close-minded person by any means.  Close-minded people didn't
survive very long doing what they did, and besides.  Chris had a
fairly good idea just why Justin had called Kevin a 'pretty little
motherfucker' and it was only slightly related to pissing Kevin
off.

But, no.  Brian acted like he thought Chris was *joking*, which was
just absurd.  Because Chris didn't joke, not... okay, well, not
*all* the time.  Just most of it.  99%.  Hardly a significant
amount, and no reason to just laugh at Chris.  Nope, not at all.

So when Brian started stirring, Chris let go of him immediately,
rolled over and pulled Brian's mostly dry shirt on.  The pants
weren't going to fit, though, anymore than Chris' had fit Brian, so
he tossed them at the other man.  "Here.  They're almost wearable
now."

Brian blinked at him, looked down at the bundle of damp clothing
that'd hit him in the chest, and nodded.  "Okay."  He changed
quickly.

Chris didn't pretend not to watch.  So what if he wanted to boff a
Backstreet Boy?  Lots of people did.  Lots of people even in his
own group.  The Nick-Justin vibe wasn't exactly subtle either, and
Chris narrowed his eyes in sudden though.  Kevin and Justin.  Nick
and Justin... was Justin trying to make a full sweep?  He looked up
at the sky for sudden passing helicopters.  He wouldn't put it past
the Amazing Divalake to stage a dramatic rescue.

But the sky was blandly clear of everything but scudding white
clouds.

Brian handed him back his own pants and Chris put them on.  Nice
and warm from Brian's body.

"I want to fuck you," Chris said, out of nowhere.

"That's nice," Brian said.

"Um, hello?"  Chris stuck a finger in his own ear.  Nope, no more
wax present than usual, as far as he could tell.  "Did you hear
me?"

Brian had sat back down after putting his pants -- a nice pair of
khaki Dockers -- back on, and had his arms looped around his knees. 
"That's nice," he repeated.  "I'm flattered."

"Okay, well.  Hmph."  Thwarted, Chris sat down next to him. 
"Needless to say, that wasn't quite the response I was expecting."

Brian gave him an enigmatic look, then put his hand over his heart
and feigned a swoon, sinking backward into the sand.  "Oh, my
lands.  Someone has just maligned my manly honor.  Why, I do
declare, I believe I shall faint."

"Shut up," Chris said irritably, swatting at him.  "Now you're just
trying to make me feel better."

He sat back up and gave Chris a small grin before his face went
solemn again.  "Well, you know, I *am* flattered.  And we could be
stuck here a while.  Not too long, I don't think.  Nick wasn't
boating impaired like you guys.  He presumably has some idea where
he lost me.  If they don't assume we're dead, they should be
looking in this direction.  You had time to do anything yet about
making yourself visible to a passing ship or plane?"

Chris shrugged.  "Yeah.  A bit.  It's not going to last through a
good windstorm, but I laid out an SOS up a bit further on the beach
with some tree branches and stuff."  It'd taken him the better part
of two days, but at least it'd given him something to think about
other than being hungry or throwing himself off a cliff, not that
there were any handy.  It was a helluva lot better having Brian
there, although at this point, he'd've welcomed even a blind
accordion-playing mime.  And his standards hadn't even gotten
*really* low yet.

"That's great, Chris."

"Um, thanks.  I guess.  It just seemed like the right thing to do." 
He sighed and laid back in the sand.  "You know what though?  I'm
sorry I hit on you.  Anesthetize my brain, man.  I've been thinking
too much.  Nothing to do but think out here.  I saw another human
being and I freaked.  The sad part is, I'm scared I might have hit
on just about anyone who showed up.  The Coast Guard.  Carson
Daly."

"A fate worse than death," Brian agreed.  "So, you figured out
anything about food yet?"

"Didn't you hear me?"

"I heard you.  I agree completely.  I'd probably have done
something similar."

"But not that."

"Well, no.  I *am* happily married, after all."

Chris put his arm across his eyes.  "Yeah.  Yeah, I knew that. 
About the food thing?  You can just kill me and eat me.  I don't
really mind.  It's for a good cause, after all."

"I'm not going to eat you."

"Of course not," Chris said dourly.  "You're too good for that."

"No, I'm not that desperate yet."

"Very funny."  After a pause, Chris said contemplatively, "Still. 
You'd eat me.  That's something."

"Only if I were *really* desperate."

"But you'd still have your mouth on my body, see?  So it's
something."

"You know, you're fixated."

"People *have* mentioned that.  Usually while backing away slowly,
though."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but have you considered that you
may suffer from mood swings?"

"Who told you that?  Was it the little green men?"  Chris looked
around frantically.  "Those bastards!  They promised to take me
away in their ship if they ever came back.  How dare they?"

"Mood swings, not paranoia."

"Eh, close enough.  And, yes, it's been pointed out to me before. 
By people who, when they aren't backing away slowly, are carrying
really large butterfly nets."

"Not a chair and a whip?"

"Ooh, kinky.  I could be into that."

"From what I hear, you *are* into that."

There was a long pause as Chris digested that.  "You know, I always
believed that you, out of all of us, might actually be as good and
pure and innocent as your image.  Shows how little *I* know."

Brian turned, leaning on his elbow to look at Chris, "Is that
really what you think about me?"

"Saint Brian, protector of the poor, downtrodden and unwashed
boybanders?"

Brian shook his head.  "What I don't get is how you can think that
and still hit on me."

"I don't think that.  What I don't get is how you can completely
ignore me hitting on you.  I'm impossible to ignore.  Everyone says
so.  But you do it so effortlessly."  Chris grabbed Brian's shirt
front and widened his eyes.  "Promise me, no, *swear* that if we
ever make it back to the land of civilization and chocolate
milkshakes, that you'll never give away the secret of how you do
that.  Swear!  I just can't go on knowing that people everywhere
can resist my charms."

"I don't know about resisting your charms, but I'm fairly sure that
ignoring you is completely impossible."

"Well, that's something."  Chris let go of Brian and subsided. 
"Speaking of food, though, I'd rather not speak of food.  Since
there isn't any.  Well, not much of anything.  Ever watch
'Survivor' and make fun of those guys for starving to death?  I'm
going to stop doing that when we get back.  If we get back. 
Watching, that is.  At least they had fire and, if all else fails,
they can kill and eat Jeff Probst.  Plus, you know, the thrill of
getting to knife each other in the back.  And they never ever leave
them alone.  See, I woulda thought that would be the annoying part,
never being alone, with cameras watching your every move,
considering how annoying it is to *me*, and we're used to that kind
of thing.  But being alone and not knowing if anyone else was ever
going to show up..."

Chris trailed off, and looked out over the water.  The sun was
setting.  He studied it for a while.  "So," he said brightly. 
"Food.  Some of the plants seem halfway edible, or at least, I
haven't died yet, which is always a good sign.  Stuff washes up on
the beach in the morning, and it's not that much worse than eating
raw sushi.  I wouldn't call it real food, but it's close enough. 
It's probably a good thing it *isn't* morning.  You might be hungry
enough by then to get it down."

Brian made a face.

"But hey," Chris said, "Much better now, y'know?  Misery loves
company.  It's a lot better than being stuck *with* someone than
being stuck alone.  At least now I only have to worry about my
health and not my sanity."

"How do you worry about something you never had in the first
place?" Brian asked.

Chris gaped, then recovered.  "You, you faker!  You're not sweet
and innocent after all!"

"Never claimed to be."

"Yeah, but now I have to give up my fantasy about debauching your
tender innocence."

"My tender innocence?"  Brian snickered.

"Shut up.  You make it sound like you never thought of it."

"What, you wanted me to debauch your tender innocence?"

Chris threw himself backward into the sand, then stretched his arms
out.  "Well?  What are you waiting for?"

"Tender innocence, maybe?  A quality I don't think you have."

"Well, I wouldn't if you'd help me get rid of it."

"You can't get rid of something you didn't have to start with."

"There might be a few shreds still lingering around somewhere." 
Chris looked hopefully up at Brian, who laughed and shook his head. 
"Fine.  Be that way."  He sat up, brushed himself off and drew his
knees close to his chest again.  "So," Chris cleared his throat. 
"To be serious for a moment, which I don't really want to do, and
I'd like to note I'm only doing under protest -- is there going to
be any rescue?  You had to have seen *something* about me
disappearing.  I did host a beauty pageant, you know."

"Scholarship contest.  And, if it's any consolation, you made MTV
Headline News."

"Not really.  Carson's cuter than Kurt."

"Carson?" Brian made a face.

Chris sighed again.  "Okay, forget I came onto you.  This is
serious time."  He made quote fingers for 'serious time'.  "Forget
the gay stuff.  I want to know how long we're going to be stuck
here.  Or, if you're still freaking out about what I feel was an
understandable bit of humor intended to leaven to unpalatable
reality of our situation, then think of it as sooner to getting rid
of me and getting back to your normal heterosexual lifestyle with
the wife and the .5 child."

Brian nodded solemnly.  "Well, yeah, there is that.  And it's not
that I'm not worried about Leigh, 'cause this can't be good for her
stress level especially right now.  So, yes.  I agree.  But you
can't seriously prefer Carson over Kurt.  I mean.  Ew."

Chris stared at him for a long moment.  "Hey!  Hey!  You're doing
it again.  You're such a faker.  You had me thinking you were a
card-carrying member of the Bible Belt aristocracy."

"I thought we were being serious now."

"Well, *I* was, but then you weren't, so I figured I didn't need to
be either."

"I was serious."

"But you're married."

"You're confusing 'married' with being blind, deaf, mute and
stupid.  And having bad taste."

"Okay, so I wasn't that serious about Carson.  But he is fun to
play with."

"Your standards are a little different than mine, I think.  I don't
-- or didn't -- choose potential partners based on how much fun
they were to annoy."

"Er, no?  And here I thought you and Nick were..."

"You thought Nick and I were what?  Consider your answer carefully. 
I *can* always hide the body and say you drowned, you know."

"Um...  Oh.  *Funny*.  Very funny.  I thought we were still doing
serious time though--"

"We are."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

"Okay, I don't.  And I wasn't trying to imply anything about you
and Nick.  I mean, if there is something.  Or was something, then
that's one thing.  But I meant, y'know, I always figured you were
friends.  And that you liked annoying each other.  I mean, y'know. 
Me and Justin.  Dude.  Annoying the young blonde ones.  Fun!  Okay,
almost as much fun annoying the not so young or blonde ones.  Like
JC.  Annoying Lance -- no sport to it, really.  Plus, he stopped
getting mad.  Now he just gets even.  Which is really no fun."

"Oh, yeah.  Yeah.  Like that.  Sure.  Of course.  You and Justin?"

"Hey.  Watch it.  I can kill you and hide your body too.  Don't
even think I'm not as mean and cruel and sneaky as you.  I *have*
learned some things from Lance after all."

"Double entry bookkeeping?"

"Shut up."

"Make me."

Chris gave him a long look then jumped on him and wrestled him
down.  After a long, panting moment, he had Brian under him, and
was straddling his waist, crowing triumphantly, "Who's the man?! 
Me!  I'm the man!  I'm the big stud man."

"Humble, too."

"Shut up.  I made you."

Brian gave him a look.  "Riiight."

"Shut up."

Brian stuck his tongue out.

"Y'know," Chris said consideringly.  "The way you keep not shutting
up when I say that, I almost think you want me to make you the
other way.  Y'know.  By kissing you."

"Oh.  Um..."

"Yeah.  That's what I thought."  Chris got up.

Brian sat up.  "I didn't mean -- I wasn't trying to lead you on or
anything."

Chris wasn't looking at Brian.  "Didn't think you were.  Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for.  I mean, I'm sure we'll get rescued
soon."

"Yeah, whatever."

"No, you don't get it.  I was trying to say... look -- we *are*
going to get rescued soon, but if we weren't, then I'm sure that
soon enough, stuff would happen.  You know.  I mean, it's not that
I don't take my vows seriously, but you know, it doesn't mean I
don't *like* you and..."

"You can't resist my sexy body."

"Er, no, that wasn't it.  Just..." Brian let his breath out in a
rush.  "How long have you been here?"

Chris shrugged.  "Couple of days.  I haven't been scratching out a
count of the time on a rock or anything.  Yet."

Brian considered him, then scooted over and wrapped his arm around
him.  Chris was stiff under it.

"Thought you took your vows seriously," Chris said, looking
straight ahead.

"That's what I meant.  This isn't about that.  It's about people
needing to be with other people and you being out here for days by
yourself and maybe thinking you'd die alone out here..."

"If you don't mind, that's exactly what I was trying *not* to think
about," Chris said, but he wasn't nearly as stiff.

"Well, you're not alone now."

"Great.  I get to die with Brian Littrell.  What I've always
wanted."

"You're not going to die, and anyway.  It is better being with
someone, isn't it?"

"Yeah."  Chris leaned into him.

"That's all I was trying to say.  That I get it.  Why you keep
saying stuff like that.  It's because you were alone and now you're
not, and it's okay to want to make contact.  I get it.  That's why
I'm not offended.  Because I know what you actually meant, and it's
fine, it really is."  Brian hugged him.  "We'll be rescued, I know
we will."

"And if not, you'll have sex with me?"

"We'll see."

"That means yes."

Brian chuckled.  Chris closed his eyes and plotted.