Just Together

Disclaimer: This story is fiction. It makes no claims to the true personality or sexuality of anyone involved. You already know if you shouldn't be reading this.

------------------ Just Together by jm_stories ------------------

Chapter XXI

=-=-=-=-=-= Jonah =-=-=-=-=-=

*** [ Saturday, Nov 24, 2001 ]

Michael and I were snuggled together on the sofa watching a movie when Scott got back around six. Michael was sound asleep and I was barely awake. We'd spent four hours this morning making love. It was fun, but exhausting. We didn't originally plan it that way, but we ended up making it a contest, of sorts, to see who could last the longest. I finally gave in and brought both of us over the edge. Anyway, we were tired after that and spent the rest of the day lounging around.

"...Yea, it's a whole lot better," Scott said as he walked in. "Hey, guys."

"Hey," I yawned and nudged Michael to wake up.

"This is my dad and step-mom. Jack and Linda. This is Jonah and Michael," Scott introduced as he went to throw his bags in his room.

"Nice to meet you," I said as I stood up to shake their hands. Jack -- junior, apparently -- came in the door with a box of Scott's stuff.

"Nice to meet you, too. Nice place you have here," Jack senior said. It was obvious he was a car salesman. I almost wanted to laugh. He was a stereotype. Loud and kinda obnoxious. Lots of rings and a thick gold chain. Linda was attractive and obviously several years younger. Trophy wife came to mind.

"Thanks. It's comfortable," I smiled and shook Linda's hand. She seemed a bit hesitant, but did.

"We watch 'Will and Grace' all the time," Linda sputtered. Weird.

"Uh, good for you," I said and gave her an odd look.

"You gay boys sure do know how to live high on the hog. The prices they get for real estate around here are highway robbery," Jack senior commented as he looked around.

"Dad..." Scott warned through his teeth.

"I'm just saying it's a nice place, is all," Jack senior defended. "Now show us around so we can get to the hotel before all the criminals come out."

Jack junior dropped down in a chair and started watching TV.

"Don't get comfortable, Jacky. We're going in a few minutes," Jack senior said.

"I know, Dad," Jacky sighed.

"This is the living room. The kitchen is this way," Scott said and led his parents to the kitchen.

"My dad's kinda obnoxious, isn't he?" Jacky said softly.

"He's a salesman," I shrugged and sat back down next to Michael, who hadn't budged.

"I'm still asleep. I don't want to deal with them," Michael said softly.

"Okay," I whispered and gave him a quick kiss. Jacky was kinda wide-eyed after seeing that. "Gonna freak out again?" I asked him.

"Oh, um, no. Sorry. Um, I'm sorry about acting like I did before," Jacky said softly.

"Scott make you say that?"

"Yea, but I mean it. I'm not like my dad."

"Okay. Accepted."

"Um, would it be okay if I stayed here tonight instead of at the hotel with my folks? Please?" Jacky pleaded.

"I don't have a problem with it."

"Thanks," he sighed and sat back.

"...And my bedroom is over here," Scott said as he came out of the kitchen and led the way.

"Is it okay if I stay with Scott tonight, Dad?" Jacky asked.

Jack gave me a quick look and then started to say something, but was interrupted.

"I've stayed here before. We're going out for breakfast in the morning anyway," Jacky tried.

"I guess it's okay if it's okay with your brother," Jack said hesitantly.

"Uh, yea. It's okay," Scott said, slightly confused.

"Okay. What about supper?" Jack asked.

"I'll just make something," Scott said.

"I'm not really that hungry," Jacky added.

"Okay. Well, we'll see you in the morning. 7AM. You remember where the hotel is?"

"Yea. I remember. Same place you stayed last time."

"Okay. See you in the morning," Jack said and ushered himself and Linda out.

Scott let out a huge sigh of relief and dramatically collapsed to the floor.

"Are they gone?" Michael whispered.

"Yep."

He sat up and stretched. "Your father is a car salesman," Michael commented.

"Yea, I know," both Scott and Jack commented.

I started laughing. "Sorry, man, but you are, like, the complete antithesis of your father," I said to Scott.

"Thanks. I really mean that," Scott said. "Did you apologize?" He asked Jack.

"Yea."

"He did. How many beatings?" I said.

"Just one. Showtime was having a 'Queer as Folk' marathon. I made him watch the whole thing," Scott smiled.

"And telling me about that guy that got kicked out," Jack added.

"Jonny," Scott explained. "I also told him he couldn't come up here again."

"And he wouldn't take me to the 'NSYNC concert," Jack pouted.

"You were being an asshole. I didn't want anyone to have to deal with it," Scott said.

"You didn't miss much, anyway. Just thousands of horny, screaming girls," Michael smiled.

"See?!" Jack declared.

"Most of them would have been too young for you anyway," Scott sighed.

"So how was Showtime's QAF?" I asked.

"Just as messed up as the British one, but a little more believable. Lots more sex scenes," Scott explained.

"Brian was right about the lesbian scenes. They were hot," Jack added.

"Gross," Michael laughed.

"I know I'm gonna regret asking this right now, but what do you want for dinner?" I said.

"Not fish," Michael smirked.

"Ugh! Stop," I protested and pushed him over.

"' We watch "Will and Grace" all the time'," Michael laughed. I cracked up, too.

"Sorry, guys," Scott apologized.

"Stop apologizing for other people," I said.

"Yea, I know."

"So are we gonna eat or what?" Jack asked.

"I thought you said you weren't hungry?" Scott asked.

"That was so we wouldn't have to go out with them tonight. I hate eating out with Dad when we're here."

"'What? This is highway robbery. I can get twice the food for half the price at home -- and it'd taste a hell of a lot better. Highway robbery'," Scott mocked, and then busted up laughing.

"They let you come back, so I take it they weren't too terrified about you living here?" I asked.

"Other than some really stupid advice, they're gonna accept it," Scott answered.

"Like what?" Michael asked.

"Just stupid crap like 'be careful' and 'don't let them do anything that you're not comfortable with'. Stupid stuff."

"Did you tell them about Toronto?"

"No way. Dad would have totally freaked."

"How'd you get by with watching hours of QAF?"

"We watched it at Brian's house."

"Gay guys don't really have that much sex, do they?" Jack asked.

"How should I know? Do all straight guys have sex with every girl they see?" Michael said.

"People are people. Gay, straight or bi is just who they love, not a definitive lifestyle. All straight people don't have five kids, a dog, and a stay at home wife. All gay people don't sleep around. Everyone is an individual," I added.

"Yea, but if I was at a club and some girl wanted to give me a blow-job, I'd let her," Jack said.

"Just any girl?"

"Not if she was gross or something."

"Anyway," Scott interrupted. "Anyone want to go out? Or eat here?"

"Let's do Ferdinando's Focacceria," I offered.

"What's that?" Jack asked.

"Foccocia," Michael answered. "Damn good foccocia."

Jack still looked confused.

"It's like pizza...kinda," Scott explained. "You'll like it."

"So how was your Thanksgiving," Scott asked as we drove to Ferdinando's.

"I think it was pretty good," I said.

"It was fun. We're gonna have to do it every year. You wouldn't believe the spread his family had -- not to mention all the people there," Michael said.

"How many?"

"Around 30, I think."

"Italian thing, huh?" Scott smirked.

"Pretty much," I shrugged.

"Anyway, it was much better than the Thanksgivings I've had with my family."

"They're your family now, too," I said.

"My original family," Michael clarified. "So how was yours?"

"Eh, it was okay," Scott shrugged. "Kinda boring. It was nice to be able to lounge around and relax. Linda's a horrible cook."

"We usually eat out for Thanksgiving at Dad's house," Jacky said.

"Eat out for Thanksgiving?" I asked.

"When we have it at my dad's house. Linda's cooking is really bad," Scott explained.

"Your dad doesn't cook?"

"Not if he has to do any more than open the package and put it in the microwave."

"You'd think he would have married someone who could cook," I said.

"He did the first time. He was looking for a different kind of cooking the next time," Scott said.

"Don't care for Linda?" I asked.

"Not really."

"How long have they been married?" Michael asked.

"About three years. She was his secretary, of course."

"Sounds almost stereotypical."

"No, it is. Totally stereotypical. My dad is a loud, obnoxious, womanizing car salesman," Scott said.

"I need to bring my truck here," Scott groaned as he walked into the kitchen and dropped into a chair.

"Insurance is really high," I warned.

"What's high?"

"Just liability for me is around $200 a month, and that's with multiple coverage discounts, rare driving and no tickets or accidents."

"I'll just leave my address at my dad's house. I need to be able to get back and forth without relying on anyone else."

"So you just want to stop your dad and Jack from coming here," Michael stated.

"Absolutely. You were right about the town seeming smaller. It was, like, I don't know how I grew up there. Nothing changed. Nothing at all. Even the people were the same. The ones who all went to school changed a little, but they fell right back into their old ways of acting. It was just weird."

I laughed. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

"No. Not bad, really, just weird. I mean, I knew 'Busco was small, but I guess I didn't realize how small town it was. It's even more amazing that there are people who have never been more than 30 miles from their home there -- and that was only to go to the hospital in Fort Wayne. I don't know. I guess I just wasn't expecting it to feel as different as it did," Scott explained.

"New York is the same way in a lot of ways," Michael said.

"How? That people live in both places?" Scott said and looked at him strangely.

"Amongst other things. You live in a neighborhood. Here the neighborhoods tend to be more vertical, but they're the same thing. Neighborhood gossip. People who have lived in the same neighborhood all their lives. It's quite possible, in some neighborhoods, to live in a four or five block area and never have to leave it. Grocery stores and doctors are in the neighborhood. All the people you know are in the neighborhood. You work in the neighborhood. Why go somewhere else?" Michael explained.

"Yea, but there's a whole city here and tons of stuff to do. There's nothing to do in 'Busco," Scott said.

"What did you do for the first 18 years of your life? Just sit around and watch the grass grow?"

"Yea, okay. I get it. Let's just say that the things to do here are more interesting and more varied than there."

"And someone here might find the slower pace of life in 'Busco to be more interesting and pleasurable," Michael shrugged.

"Then they're welcome to it."

"It's Jonny," Michael said and handed me the phone.

"Hey, kid. Miss me already?" I teased as Michael handed me the phone.

"Yea, but not enough to call you, dorkus. You won't believe what happened to me last night."

"What?"

"My friend Chris had a party. Well, actually his brother had a party and Chris invited a bunch of people. It was mostly people in college."

"So you got invited to a college party? That's it?"

"No. I had sex with a girl," he whispered.

"What? I didn't hear you. It sounded like you said you had sex with a girl," I said.

"I did."

"How the hell did that happen? Are you bi now?"

"No, I'm not bi. She practically raped me," he exclaimed.

I laughed.

"It's not funny. She gave me a blow-job and then threw me on the bed and rode me like a horse."

I laughed even harder. Michael looked at me waiting for an explanation, but I couldn't talk.

"Stop. It's not funny."

"I'm sorry," I said, trying to calm down. "Did you tell her you were gay?"

"Over and over again. I even offered to go get Adam for her. She wasn't even listening to me."

"So how was it?"

"I don't know. It felt okay. I mean, I don't really have anything to compare it to. It felt better than jacking off, but she was kinda gross. I started laughing when I saw her bouncing up and down on me and her boobs flopping all over the place."

"What'd she have to say about that?"

"She just thought I was deliriously happy about fucking her. Fortunately, Chris burst in and she left before she could make me cum a second time. All the guys were really envious. That was kinda cool, but I know they're gonna talk about it at school tomorrow and then I'll have girls hitting on me again."

"Did you use a condom?" I asked.

"Yea. She put it on me, herself. It was so weird, Jonah. It's like, one minute we were dancing, and then the next thing I know she's giving me a blow-job and as soon as I cum she pulls the rest of my clothes off, throws me down and uses me as her fuck-toy. It was so weird. I would have had to punch her to stop her, but I'm not going to hit a girl," Jonny said.

"Only to you, kid. This would only happen to you," I laughed. "Just a sec." I said and covered the phone. Michael was waiting.

"So?" Michael asked.

"He was attacked by a horny girl at a party and forced to service her. He had sex with a girl," I explained.

Michael howled with laughter and reached for the phone.

"Hey kid. You goin' straight on us?" Michael said. "So? How was it?...What else? She make you eat her out?" Michael laughed. "The one who played Tony?...Yea. He join in?...Yea, right...Cool. You think you turned him?...He was cool after that?...Good. Be careful with straight guys. You don't want one of them to feel his masculinity is in question and beat the shit out of you...Sixty bucks? Damn. That's pretty good for doing something you would have paid $60 to do...Just the girl thing, right?...He's not going to meet a girl if he's always hangin' with the guys...You do anything with Pasha yet? You were going to call him when we left, right?...And...Just ask him outright. He knows you're gay and still wants to be around you. If he was likely to get violent he wouldn't even want to be around you. If you're worried about it, just ask him over the phone...Nah. Nothing really weird. We got home. Went to bed. Got up. Made love for hours. Met one set of Scott's folks. Today has just been housework and lounging around. Nothing exciting...Yep. Kinda just to see if we could. Don't try it unless you want to be totally wiped out for the rest of the day, and have ungodly amounts of will power...Will power because we only came once. That's what the challenge was...A little. Stretching it out that long means you have to explore every body part, not just that one...No. I really don't want to listen to you pull your pud...Nope...Just fine. You liked him, huh?...Okay. If he turns out to be gay I'll let you know...Oh well, he's a little old for you, anyway...I guess I'm just into older men, then. Anyway, not to cut you off, but we're about to head out...Grocery shopping, and then dinner once we have something to actually make dinner with. I think food qualifies as good...Envious much? I already know the answer to that. Anyway, I gotta go. Stay away from straight girls. They're only after one thing...See ya, kid...Okay. Later," Michael said and then hung up.

"So?" I asked. "What was the rest of it?"

"He had a bet at the party and got to give Brandon a mutual hand-job. Had a good date with Pasha and really liked Scott," Michael summed up. "Oh, and he said to tell Uncle Joe about the party so he didn't have to."

"Yea, uh huh. That's not a conversation I'm gonna have."

*** [ Friday, Nov 30 ]

Michael treated me to a private concert when I got home, though he didn't know it. I walked in to find him totally jamming on his electric guitar with his headphones plugged-in to the amp. He was oblivious to me and I just watched him. The non-amplified sound wasn't anything special, but his performance was sexy as hell. He turned around and jumped when he saw me, which pulled the headphones out of the amp, which, of course, filled the room with sound. He quickly turned it off.

"You startled the shit out of me," Michael said as he set down his guitar.

"Sorry. Just watching you be so damn sexy it's painful," I smiled.

"Painful, eh? Let the doctor see what he can do," Michael smiled as he sauntered over to me.

I took the initiative and met him half-way in a wonderful kiss.

"I think it's getting worse. There's some swelling. You may have to do an exploratory," I said softly when the kiss ended.

"Then let's get you to the examining room right away," he said and pulled me to our room. "Take off your clothes and lay down, please."

"I think I'll need some help with that."

"Hmm. Must be really serious," he said seductively as he slowly unbuttoned my pants.

"It is. The swelling is getting worse."

"I'd better hurry," he said and quickly stripped me, push me back on the bed and then quickly stripped himself.

"Let's not rush too much," I said just before he pressed his body to mine.

"Feeling better?" Michael asked as we snuggled.

"Much. You?"

"Great. Good day?"

"Not bad. It's much nicer now that productions are over for the semester. I'm not getting paged every ten minutes with stupid questions. Maybe now I'll be able to work on some final papers without interruption. You?"

"It was okay. I hate not being busy. I can't wait until rehearsals start. Played guitar. Surfed around the 'net. Nothing exciting. Oh, I did find out some news. Guess who's birthday it is?"

"Mark Twain?"

"Is it?"

"Yea. It was on NPR this morning. Who were you talking about?"

"Scott. His mom called just after he left this morning."

"Wanna take him out?"

"Yep. I want to see him drunk."

"Why's that?"

"Just to see him let loose. After your description of how he was at the Halloween party, I want to see that for myself," Michael smiled.

"I take it we're going to a club, then?"

"Kinda. I heard that The Pit re-opened. I wanna check it out."

"The Pit?"

"Yea. It's up on Kent near the Williamsburg Bridge. They have live bands only, and a no-cover-band policy. They got shut down a year or so ago. I heard it was because the owner was sniffing all the rent money. I also heard that it was just condemned. So who knows. It was a pit, so that's why the name was what it was."

"Okay. I'm up for it. What about dinner?"

"Angelo's?"

"Works for me. That's probably him now," I said as I heard the front door close.

"If not, then we're being robbed."

We pulled on some shorts and left our room. Scott was in the kitchen starting to make something for dinner.

"Hey guys," Scott said and looked at us, and then turned away, blushing at what he knew we'd been up to.

"Hey, man. Don't make dinner. We're gonna go out," I said.

"Yea. It's Mark Twain's birthday. Gotta go celebrate," Michael smiled.

"So you know it's mine, too," Scott smiled.

"Yep. 19?"

"Yea. How'd you find out?"

"Your mom called just after you left this morning."

"Anyone else call?"

"Not yet. Anyone in particular?"

"No. Just wondering. Where are we going?"

"We were thinking Angelo's and then a club to hear some live bands," Michael said.

"Live bands sounds cool. Where's Angelo's?"

"We haven't taken you there before?" I asked.

"Not that I remember," Scott shrugged.

"I don't think we've been there since Randy was here," Michael said.

"Time fly's. Anyway, it's in Little Italy. Great place."

"Have you seen Scott recently?" I yelled in Michael's ear as we were listening to another band.

"Not for probably a half-hour -- just before this band started their set. I think he said he was going to get another drink. Worried about him?"

"Yea, a little. It's not like him to disappear, and he's not familiar with this type of crowd."

"Let's go find him," Michael said and pulled me through the crowd.

We got out of the main mass and looked around for Scott as we headed for the bar. He was at the bar talking to a couple guys and obviously having a great time. I gave him a little shove as we walked up.

"Hey, man! Where have you been?" Scott laughed and put his hand on my shoulder.

"Listening to the band, and then looking for you. You disappeared."

"Poof! I'm back!" Scott yelled and made a grand flourish with his arms.

"How much have you had to drink?" I yelled in his ear.

"Just the wine before and then this beer," he smiled and held up his empty glass. "Oh, it was full. I must have already drunk it. Drunk it. Get it?"

I gave Michael a look.

"Oh, I want you guys to meet some people. This is Rob and Rick. They go to NYU, too," Scott said and then giggled at his little rhyme.

I nodded to them and then leaned in to yell in Scott's ear again. "Did you take something?"

"Nope. Just beer."

"How did you buy that beer?"

"Rob bought it for me. Isn't that cool?"

I gave Rob a look.

"We were trying to have a conversation here, if you don't mind," Rob said to me and Michael.

"I bet you were. It's time for us to go now. Good night," I smiled, trying not to make a scene. I would have just called them on drugging Scott's drink, but we had to walk home and would be vulnerable.

"Oh yea. I gotta go home. I'm exhausted. I've been up since...well, since yesterday. Thanks for the beer. Bye," Scott smiled all stupid and happy.

"Why don't you two run along. We'll see that he gets home," Rick said and put his arm around Scott.

"Listen guys, the only one who doesn't know what's happening here is Scott. We're not about to let that happen. Now you can back off and let us take him home, or you can make a big scene and draw attention to yourselves -- attention that I'm sure you don't want. Do we understand each other?" Michael said as he pushed Rick's arm off Scott and positioned himself between them.

"We understand each other just fine. You fuck off, and then we'll get back to where we were," Rick said and started to push Michael aside. He was stopped by a baseball bat that came down hard on his arm from behind the bar.

"Ouch! Fuck! What the fuck's your problem!" Rick yelled at the bartender.

"Not in my bar you fuckin' piece of trash. You hear me? I saw you drug his drink and let it go, but if you think I'm gonna stand by and watch you force him to go with you, you've got another thing coming. You're lucky I don't call the cops on your asses. Now you just back off and let the boy go," the bartender threatened while shaking the bat.

Rob and Rick weighed their options and walked away with a parting "Fuck you!"

"Whoa. That was some heavy shit," Scott said seriously, and then busted up laughing.

"You. Take your friend and get out of here. Keep the chicken on a leash next time," the bartender said, still worked up.

"We're going. Thanks," Michael said and we led Scott out into the cool night air.

"I say we get moving in case they try to follow us," I said once we got outside.

"You have your pepper spray?"

I felt my pocket to make sure. "Yea, I've got it."

"Then we'll be ready."

"I have mine, too," Scott said. "I wonder why they don't have salt spray, too. I mean, it makes sense if you have pepper spray. Oh, I know. All sorts of sprays. Like salsa spray. Garlic spray. It's a whole flavoring world to be explored. You can..." He rambled on.

"He wasn't this bad when he was drunk," I smiled to Michael.

"It's kinda cute, in a stupid way," he smiled back.

"...And then you could have whole entrŽes as sprays. Eggs in a spray with your salt and pepper spray. You know, I think they already have a butter spray, so all you'd really need is some toast spray. You could have your whole breakfast in a spray. I bet it'd really take off with old folks who don't have any teeth."

"Hey Scott?" I said.

"Yea?"

"Pepper spray is supposed to hurt. You can't eat it."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yep."

"Oh. I knew that. We'll just have to change the whole line, then. We could have Racked-in-the-nuts spray, and Really-bad-paper-cut-in-lemon-juice spray and..."

"At least he's on the right track," Michael laughed.

"Hey Scott?" I said.

"Yea?"

"No more spray, okay?"

"Okay. What do you want to talk about?"

"Sex," Michael said.

"I like sex. I don't get any, though. Why is it when you like something you don't get much of it, but you always have plenty of what you don't like? Maybe you only like it 'cause you don't have it. How about you guys? You have sex all the time. Do you still like it?"

"Yep," Michael and I both said together.

"Cool. Stereo. Oh well, blow's that theory. Blows. Get it?"

"Got it."

"I had sex with this girl once. She said I had a really big dick. She liked to give me blow jobs. I liked it too. She only let me fuck her once. She said I was too big and it hurt. You know how much that sucks?"

"More than it fucks," Michael smiled.

"Absolutely. She wasn't very good, anyway. She just liked to talk about me having a big dick to her friends. You guys wanna see?" Scott said and started undoing his pants.

"Hold it, man. We're on the street. We don't want to be arrested for indecent exposure," I said.

"Oh yea. Got carried away," he smiled.

"You need to find a girl who can appreciate your size," Michael said.

"Yea, but I don't know if I want a girl."

"Or a guy."

"I don't know if I want a guy, either. I've never done it with a guy. Brian and I jacked-off together a couple times when we were just starting puberty, but that's all. Do you think Randy wanted to do it with me? He would probably like that I have a big dick. You guys said he was a size queen."

"Hey Scott?" Michael said.

"Yea?"

"It's not that big."

"It is too. It's bigger than yours and no one in my school was bigger. They were all jealous and teased me all the time about having a donkey dick."

"There are plenty that are larger. Get over your dick size. It doesn't matter. It's big enough to use, and not so big that you pass out when you get hard," Michael said.

Scott busted up laughing. "That would be horrible. You get hard, pass out until you go down, get hard again, pass out again and just continue until you died."

"I don't know what he drugged you with, but you're loopy," I said.

"He drugged me?"

"You can't tell?"

"That asshole. Let's go kick his ass!" Scott said really mean, and then lost it and started laughing. "Never mind. Let's just go home. Home. Home. Home. That's a really weird word, don't you think? Home. Hoooommme."

"All words are weird if you keep repeating them."

"Weird. Weird. Weeeiiirrrddd. Weird. Yep. you're right. So can I live with you guys next semester? You never told me."

"Yep," I said.

"Cool with me," Michael said.

"Good," Scott sighed. "I really like living with you guys. Even when you drag me into doing weird stuff it's fun. I'm even gonna be on TV. Do you think people will recognize me and come up and ask for my autograph and stuff?"

"It was only a short scene. Extras usually don't get recognized," Michael said.

"That's good. I don't think I'd want to get recognized as the guy who humped another guy on TV. You know I started to get hard when we did that? So did Randy."

"We do now," I smiled.

"THAT is what was really embarrassing about doing that. He was cool and didn't say anything, though. I think he was embarrassed 'cause he got hard, too."

"What about when you slept together?" Michael asked and shot me a grin.

"I don't know. He wasn't touching me, so I couldn't tell if he got hard or not. Our legs did touch once, but that's it. I got hard, but I always get hard -- especially when I go to bed. I usually jack-off just before I go to sleep."

"You've got a schedule?"

"No, but that's when I have time. I can't do it in the morning before class anymore. It makes me tired all day. Do you guys still jack-off?"

"Yep, but usually together," Michael smiled.

"That's cool. Maybe we should all jack-off together sometime. It'd save time," Scott commented.

"How would it save time?"

"'Cause we'd be doing it at the same time, duh. Otherwise it would take three times longer."

"I never was very good at logic," Michael smirked.

"That's okay. Jonah is. He's so fuckin' smart about everything. It's like, no matter what we're doing in the theater or what someone asks for, he knows how to do it or what it is. I mean, like, there was this one time where someone was asking for periaktoi and none of us knew what they were, but Jonah just explained it and then told us how to build some. And have you seen him build furniture? He's like a god or something with that. Every time someone needs some furniture that they can't buy, they have Jonah make it. Like there was..."

"What about Michael?" I interrupted.

"I don't think Michael knows a lot like that, but he's super people smart. Like he could have a bunch of mean dudes trying to attack him, and he'd make a joke and have them all laughing and his best buds in a few minutes. He's really funny 'cause he'll say anything. It's kinda annoying sometimes, but that's just 'cause sometimes you just don't feel like being funny. Doesn't matter to him, though. It's really weird 'cause he studies people, you know? You don't even realize he's doing it most of the time, but he is. I think he says anything just to see what the person's reaction will be. I think it's really cool that you guys have each other, 'cause you're, like, total opposites. No. Not opposites. It's like you complement each other. You are the brains," he said and pointed to me. "And you are the heart," he pointed to Michael.

"You know, I think you've talked more tonight than in the whole time we've known you," Michael smirked.

"Yea, I usually don't talk a lot. You know what Mark Twain said about talking? He said that it's better to shut up and let them think you're a dumb-ass than to open your mouth and prove it."

"I think you took some liberties with that quote," I teased.

"I got the meaning right. My dad is like that. Talks all the time. He wants me to take over the dealership. Not in this lifetime. He thinks I'm just being wild and young now and will come back. No way. God. Have you ever seen any of his commercials? Horrible and embarrassing. He talks all the time and never really says anything..."

"Is that why you came to school in New York?" I interrupted.

"Yea. I needed to get away from all that. Brian wanted me to go to Ball State with him, but it's too close. A bunch of people from town are going there. I needed to do something different or I was gonna go crazy. I know you probably think I'm pretty boring compared to your famous friends, but I'm trying to be more interesting. It's hard, you know, when you come from a place that's not even remotely interesting? I don't like being the center of attention, though. I just wanna be in the background -- the one who makes things happen. I guess that kinda sounds like a puppet master, but not like that. I don't know, really. I just had to get away from everyone who knew me, you know? It's like there's so much..."

"That's enough, Scott. We're home," I said to stop his prattling.

"Oh, good. I'm not tired. I think I'll stay up and watch some movies. I wish we had HBO or Showtime or something. Can we get that?"

"If you want to pay for it," Michael said.

"We don't watch enough TV to justify the cost," I added.

"Okay. Maybe we should go get some movies. Let's go get some movies," Scott said and started back down the stairs. I grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"It's after 2AM. The video store is closed."

"That sucks. They should stay open 24 hours. What if I wanted to rent a movie at 4AM? I couldn't do it. They lost that business. It just makes sense. God, it's hot in here," Scott said as we walked into our apartment. He pulled off his jacket and then started pulling off his clothes.

"It's not hot in here. It's the drugs."

"Then they should give drugs to people who are freezing. You know, I've only smoked weed before. It made me really stupid giggly, and then I fell asleep. Every time. I just fell asleep. It's not really worth it if you're just gonna fall asleep. I said every time like I'd done it whole bunches of times, but really I've only smoked three times. Is this gonna give me drain brammage?"

"Apparently."

"I meant to say that. Drain brammage," Scott laughed. "I'm gonna sit on the fire-escape and cool off," he said once he was down to his underwear and headed for the kitchen.

"No, you're not. It's too cold to sit outside in your underwear, and you're too messed up to be sitting on the fire-escape," I said and grabbed his arm.

"But I'm dying in here," he whined.

"Then go take a cold shower."

"Okay. Good idea," he smiled and wandered to the bathroom.

"We're gonna have to watch him all night," Michael sighed.

"Yea. He'd be walking to the store in his underwear if he got hungry," I smiled.

"I just hope it wears off soon. I think he's on E."

"Yea, that's what I thought, but he's loopier than anyone else I've seen on E."

"Different people," Michael shrugged.

"What's he up to now?" I asked as I heard him making noises, but no shower running. I walked into the bathroom to see him making faces in the mirror. "Having fun?" I asked.

"Do you think I look like someone different when I make a face?" He asked and made a face.

"Sure," I smirked as Michael cracked up behind me.

"Oh man, I hope he remembers this, 'cause we're gonna have fun reminding him," Michael laughed.

"Weren't you going to take a cold shower?"

"Oh yea. Forgot," Scott said and dropped his underwear. "Oh yea. See how big it is? I know, get over it, but it is the biggest I've seen except in a porno. It gets even bigger when I get hard. Wanna see?" He said and started rubbing himself to get hard.

"Scott?"

"Yea? It'll just take a second," he said and continued to rub as it started to rise.

"Scott? This isn't going to seem as cool or interesting tomorrow. You may want to put that thing away," I smiled.

"Okay. There. All the way up," he smiled and stood with his hands on his hips and his 8.5" erection standing at about 45¡.

"Okay. In the shower. Now," I said and pushed him towards it.

"He's gonna want to crawl under a rock and die tomorrow," Michael snickered.

"If his head doesn't explode from blushing, first," I said and then turned back to Scott. "Sit down on the floor of the tub." He did so and I turned on the cold water full blast.

"Ahh! That's cold!" He screamed and tried to get up. I held him down -- though I was getting a bit of the cold shower myself.

"That's what you wanted. Now sit there until you become a little more coherent."

He calmed down and started playing with the patterns of water running down the drain. He was soon shivering. I was well into shivering.

"I'm cold now," Scott said and reached for the hot water handle.

"Stop. You just sit there. I'll get it."

"Okay, but I'm cold."

I let him go and turned up the hot and turned down the cold. I was already wet and freezing, so I just pulled off my clothes and got under the hot water.

"You're taking my hot water, Jonah," Scott protested.

"Don't move. Give me a second to warm up," I warned and leaned back, letting the hot water run down my face. A second later I felt a hand on my dick. I jumped and pulled out of the water. Scott sat there looking innocent.

"Didn't I tell you not to move? That means don't touch me, either."

"I didn't."

"You're the only other person in here."

Scott opened his eyes wide and pointed to the shower curtain.

"I'll get you later," I said to Michael and slapped at the curtain. He laughed and stepped back.

"I've got some hot cocoa made."

"Cool," Scott said and got up. "I'm done now. I want some hot cocoa."

"Remember to dry off," I said as I shut off the water. I was warm again.

"Oh yea," Scott said.

I stepped out and dried off. Scott was gone after a quick wipe with the towel, running naked to the kitchen. I went to my room and pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt before going to Scott's room and grabbing the same for him. He was sitting on the sofa drinking his hot cocoa when I finally found him some clothes.

"Put some clothes on," I said and threw them to him.

"But then I'll be hot again. You guys don't wear clothes sometimes," Scott protested.

"At least put on the sweats."

"How about some shorts? 'Cause I'm summer inside."

"Fine," I sighed and went to his room to grab a pair of shorts. I threw them at him and then dropped down on the sofa next to Michael, who was snickering the whole time.

Scott pulled on the shorts and then sat down on the sofa next to Michael. I turned on the TV and flipped around until I found something that wasn't an infomercial or psychic friend. That pretty much left crap on MTV, or a typical movie on Sci-Fi. I choose the later.

"Cool. Don't you think it'd be fun to work on a space movie? I mean you'd get to design all this weird stuff and make stuff fly and everything," Scott babbled.

"Why don't you get your pad and draw out some designs for a space ship?" I suggested.

"Okay," Scott said and ran to his room to grab his drawing pad. He sat down on the floor in front of the coffee table and started drawing, but who knows what he was drawing. He'd start one drawing, and then trail off, shiver and then continue, but with something that didn't fit with what he was drawing. Every few minutes he would reach back to touch one of us on the leg like he was making sure we were really there. He gave up about a half-hour later.

"I can't focus right now."

"Uh huh," I mumbled, feeling very tired.

"I'll try in the morning," he said and hopped up on the sofa, leaning against Michael and watching the movie.

"Do guys kiss differently than girls?" Scott asked a few minutes later as a make-out scene was on the TV.

"It's better," Michael mumbled.

"How's it better? I mean, lips and tongue and everything are the same parts. I guess a beard would make a difference. That'd be gross -- kissing a girl with a beard. There's this old lady who lives next to my mom, and she has a beard. Not a full beard, but long hairs there. I wonder if her husband likes them there. I mean, she never shaves them off or plucks them or anything. It's gotta be weird. Is it weird when you haven't shaved and kiss? How's it different?"

Michael grabbed Scott's face and pulled him into a long kiss. "That's how it's different. Now go to sleep," he said after he pulled back. Scott's shorts were tented, though I don't think he noticed.

"Yea, that is different. I don't know what's different about it, though. It was definitely weird. There's that word again. Weird. Everything is weird tonight."

"Scott?" I said.

"Yea?"

"Be quiet and go to sleep. Please."

"Sorry," he pouted, but was quiet for a few minutes. I was almost asleep when he spoke again. "I can't sleep here. There's not enough room to lay down."

"Let's go to our room. Tie him to the bed and tape his mouth shut," Michael mumbled.

"Okay," I agreed and got up.

"I can sleep in my bed," Scott said and started for his room.

"Nope. We can't keep an eye on you. You're with us," Michael said and pushed him to our room.

"You guys have a bigger bed than I have. How many people do you think could fit on it?"

"Three. Now lay down and go to sleep," Michael said as he pushed Scott onto the bed.

"Oh baby!" Scott laughed.

"Oh brother," Michael groaned. "You can sleep next to him," he said to me.

I just grunted and dropped my clothes before climbing into bed. Michael got in and I snuggled him in my arms.

"You know what would be really cool?" Scott asked.

"If you would go to sleep?"

"No. It would be to have..." he started and then was interrupted when I rolled over and clamped my hand across his mouth.

"Sleep. If you can't sleep, at least be quiet. Got it?"

Scott nodded and I let go of him. Michael rolled to snuggle against me and I was almost out when I felt Scott trying to sneak out of bed.

"Where are you going?" I mumbled.

"We need some more laundry detergent. I just remembered. I need to do laundry."

"In the morning," I mumbled and tugged at him until he moved close enough that I could get my arm around his waist to lock him in. He relaxed again and I was soon out.

*** [ Saturday ]

Waking up was interesting. Scott was naked, in a fetal position and using my arm as a teddy bear of some sort. My hand was in his crotch and he was wrapped around my arm and breathing against my shoulder. Michael was draped over me where I like him to be. Unfortunately, this also meant that I couldn't get out from Scott's grasp. Michael rolled back a few minutes later and stretched.

"Thank god," I sighed and pulled my arm back from Scott. It pulled some skin when I did and he groaned and jerked back, falling off the bed.

"Morning," Michael smiled at me.

"Morning."

Scott sat up from the floor and looked around, dazed. "What am I doing in here?"

"We were keeping you safe from yourself," Michael smiled. "Remember anything about last night?"

"Huh? Where are my clothes?" Scott said a bit panicky and covered himself. "Oh god. I feel like shit. What happened?" Scott groaned and held his head, forgetting all about being naked.

"You're probably just dehydrated. You don't remember anything about last night?" I asked.

"I just remember... Oh my god. Please tell me I dreamed all that," Scott pleaded like he already knew the answer, but didn't want to.

"Depends on what you think happened. Do you remember taking off all your clothes and trying to go sit on the fire escape?" I asked.

"Or proudly showing us just how big you are when erect?" Michael smiled.

"Or suggesting that we all jack-off together so we'd save time?"

"It wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare," Scott groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"Everyone should have one experience like that to regret for the rest of their lives," I teased.

"Oh god, guys. I'm so sorry. I...I'll find someplace else to live next semester. I promise. I'm so sorry..." Scott rambled.

"Why are you moving out?" I asked.

"'Cause what I did was totally wrong."

"What you did was get drugged up at a club by not being careful. You'll know better next time. Don't beat yourself up about it," Michael said.

"So you're not going to kick me out?"

"Of course not," I said.

"We've got years of good teasing to get in -- can't have you leaving yet," Michael smiled.

"Don't worry. It's not really the kind of story we'd bring up in public," I added before Scott could have a heart-attack.

"Please don't. Thanks for, you know, taking care of me last night."

"No problem. Now why don't you go drink a couple glasses of water and then go back to your own bed," I said.

"Yea, okay. Where are my pants?"

"I don't know."

"You had some shorts on when you came to bed. They have to be in here somewhere."

Scott eventually found his shorts, pulled them on and then left our room.

"He didn't freak out as much as I thought he would," I said.

"You know, for as much as he babbled, we still don't know what his sexual orientation is," Michael said.

"That's just it. I don't think he does, either. At this point I'd say he's bi."

"Maybe. He needs to get over his dick size obsession. I think the comments that girl made traumatized him. The first person he was with basically told him he was a freak and hurt her. Not good for your self-esteem."

"Yea, but self-esteem has to come from within."

"Hence the name," Michael smirked.

"Yea. You ready to get up?"

"Not really, but yea. Do you have anything you need to do today?"

"Yea. I need to do some renderings."

"You should do them in oil instead of watercolor."

"Too messy and it'd never dry in time."

"So? If you did then I'd have an excuse to buy some oils and brushes."

"Do you need an excuse?"

"I guess not. I just want to try it."

"Then get a beginners kit and try it."

"I know, but I don't know how to paint."

"You'll learn. Learn by doing, or you can take a class."

"Maybe."

"Hey Scott?"

"Yea?"

"'Do you think I look like someone different when I make a face?'" Michael smirked and made a face.

Scott gave him a blank stare for a few seconds. "Nope. You still look like a dork," he deadpanned and then smiled broadly.

"Good. Just checking. So did you," Michael smiled back.

"But I was on some drug. What's your excuse?"

"Just high on life."

"Have you ever had that happen to you? Been drugged in a club?" Scott asked.

"No, but I've known people who it has happened to. Don't freak out about it. Just be aware next time. Don't leave your drink sitting around, and don't accept a drink from anyone except your friends or the bartender."

"Yea, okay. Lesson learned. It was really weird, the way I was thinking. It's like...everything was popping into my head at once, but too fast to catch. Have you ever done drugs before?"

"Weed and E. I almost did acid once, but I chickened out," Michael said.

"Jonah?"

"Weed and acid," I said.

"You didn't tell me you'd done acid," Michael said.

"You never asked. We've never talked about it. We just talked about weed when we were in Amsterdam."

"Okay. How many times have you done it?"

"Three."

"When?"

"My freshman year. Three times was enough for me."

"And?"

"And what?"

"How was it?"

"Difficult to explain. It's very individual to the person. For me, I got quiet and just watched and listened to things. Listening to music was pretty incredible. I couldn't really stand to be around people. One person was enough. I don't know how some people do it and then go to a club. I probably would have started freaking out with that many people."

"Who'd you do it with?"

"My roommate my freshman year. Giles Gorolski. He was in the film school."

"Was?"

"Yea. He dropped out after freshman year. Too many nights spent fucked up on something or another and sitting around bullshitting with people while watching a movie."

"Why'd you let him live with you?" Scott asked.

"Because I lived in the dorm my freshman year. I didn't have a choice. As far as dorm roommates go, he wasn't too bad."

"Having a drug addict for a roommate wasn't bad?" Scott asked incredulously.

"As far as dorm roommate go, no. He was fairly considerate. Not loud or obnoxious. He bathed regularly," I laughed. "The only thing I can think of that really got on my nerves is that he would want to talk all night whenever he did E. Fortunately, I only had to listen and nod or grunt every once in a while."

"He sounds like he was very passive," Michael commented.

"Yea. Go with the flow. I met his parents once. Very much the opposite. Both were hot-shot lawyers in Boston. Very driven. Very in your face."

"So like Scott and his dad?" Michael teased.

"I'm not a drug addict," Scott protested.

"No, but your dad is loud and in your face, where as you are quiet and introspective," Michael explained.

"Yea, okay. At least that part," Scott conceded.

"That's what I was talking about. Now I know it's none of my business, but after last night I'm even more curious..." Michael started.

"About what?" Scott asked cautiously.

"Who do you think about when you wank?" Michael smiled.

"Not you."

"Good. So? Guy? Girl? Sheep?"

"Never sheep."

"Chickens?"

"Nope."

"Guys?"

Scott just shrugged.

"Girls?"

Same thing.

"Just a clue?"

"It's not you," Scott smiled.

"Come on," Michael pleaded.

"If I'm not going to tell Brian -- who I've known forever -- why would I tell you?"

"Ah. So, in other words, you don't know either," Michael smirked.

Scott just shrugged with a smile.

*** [ Mon, Dec 3 ]

"Look who's finally legal," Michael smiled and waved his driver's license in front of me.

"About time. Let me see," I said and grabbed it. Typical quality photo, made worse by the super cheesy grin Michael gave. I looked up and he gave the same grin. "Yep, it's you. How'd rehearsal go?"

"It went fine. Typical first rehearsal stuff. Intros and a read-through," Michael shrugged and grabbed the phone. "Hello?... Hey, kid. What's up?...Not more girl troubles," he laughed. "Okay. Just a sec," he said and handed me the phone.

"Hey, kid."

"Hey. You would not believe what has happened the past week," Jonny said quickly.

"Good or bad?"

"Both."

"Okay. Start with the good."

"Okay. Pasha and I had a date. A real date. He's definitely gay. We made out in his car."

"Cool. And? Good?"

"Hell, yea. It was the best. If Joey hadn't interrupted we'd probably still be doing it."

"What was Joey doing with you? He drive you?"

"No. We were in Pasha's car and parked in front of the house. It was curfew time and Joey banged on the car to break it up."

"Sounds great. I'm happy for you. Now what's the bad?"

"You remember that guy at school I said who was a bigot? Billy Mascow?"

"Um, yea. Still at it?"

"Not any more. He's dead."

"Dead?"

"Yea. His dad beat him to death. It was on the news today. We just got in a fight last week when he was picking on this kid and I stopped him. He got suspended. He came over to my old house a couple days later with a gun and painted 'die fag' on the door. Tommy caught him before he was done and we called the cops and they locked him up. His dad must have gotten him out on bail. He had bruises on him that I didn't give him when he came to shoot me. I think his dad probably did that to him as well. He's dead now and his dad is in jail," Jonny rattled out.

"He was going to shoot you?"

"Apparently. Don't freak out about that. He didn't even really get close since Tommy caught him first."

"So how do you feel about it?"

"You're starting to sound like Uncle Joe," Jonny groaned.

"Sorry. So?"

"I don't know. It's weird. On one hand, I can say that I'm glad he won't be bothering me or anyone else anymore. On the other hand, I can kinda understand how he'd be a violent asshole if his dad kept beating him for everything. I can't understand why he'd want to go so far as to try to kill me. I mean, you'd think if he was going to kill someone he'd try to kill his dad."

"If it's been going on for years, maybe he was just too afraid of his father. He transferred the anger he felt towards his father to other people," I offered.

"Now you really sound like Uncle Joe."

"Did he say the same thing?"

"Pretty much, but with more words."

"How'd Tommy react?"

"When he caught him?"

"Yea."

"He said he slammed him into the door and then twisted his arm. He kidney-punched him when he saw him trying to get the gun out of his pocket with his free hand. He was really pissed off -- at me, too, for not telling him I was being harassed. I was totally pissed off that Billy would have even tried that instead just having a real fight. Anyway, the cops took him away and then we cleaned the paint off the door before Dad got home," Jonny explained.

"So your folks don't know?"

"Yea, they know. They found out later that night when Billy's dad came over and threatened to sue them. Oh yea, I totally told Dad off. Okay. So I was totally pissed off afterwards and went for a run. When I got back Mom and Dad were over and that's when I learned that Billy's dad had been over. He was threatened to sue them for something and said that I'd hit on Billy and his actions were just some gay panic shit. Dad believed him, of course, and made some nasty comment. I totally went off on him. I called him on being afraid of what his crew might think and not really being a man. I told him that he'd never be a man 'cause he never stands up for anything that he thinks might make him look like less of a man. I said I bet he wished that I'd gotten shot."

"What'd he have to say about that?"

"He just sat there and took it, and then said he was glad I wasn't shot and left. That was really annoying."

"Why?"

"'Cause he won't be one way or the other. Instead, he does this stupid shit where he hates me and doesn't want me around, but doesn't want me dead. It just doesn't make any sense."

"Either way doesn't make sense. Maybe he's starting to come around," I offered.

"Yea, right. And maybe I'm going straight," Jonny deadpanned.

"You did have sex with a girl," I teased.

"Been there. Done that. Ain't goin' back."

I laughed. "Did you tell Tommy?"

"About the girl?"

"Yea."

"Hell no. He'd be all, like, 'See! You did it. You're really straight!' -- or some bull like that."

"Yea, but you could also say that you tried it and didn't like it."

"I think I know Tommy better than you. If I did it once he'd be trying to get me to do it again. No, it's best that he never finds out. He's doing okay now. We just avoid the subject of guys and everything is good."

"Very Catholic of you," I teased. "Just ignore it and it doesn't exist."

"Hey. It's seemed to work for them. Anyway, I gotta go."

"Okay. Thanks for calling. Try to cut down on the drama a little."

"It's not like I try to find drama. It just finds me. Later."

"Bye," I said and hung up.

"Who's dead?" Michael asked.

"The bigot who'd been harassing him. Beat to death by his father. The kid was in jail for trying to shoot Jonny."

"Excuse me?"

"Exactly. He didn't seem too upset by it. Tommy found the kid before he was ready and disarmed him. I don't want to think about it. It just pisses me off."

"At least it won't be happening anymore."

"Not from that kid."

*** [ Tues, Dec 4 ]

"Hey, Lance," I answered as I picked up the phone.

"Hey. Finally got caller ID?"

"Yep. What's up?"

"What are you guys doing for New Year's? Any plans yet?"

"Um, I don't think so. Why? You planning a visit? You're still welcome here, you know."

"Thanks, but just the opposite. Do you guys want to come down to Orlando? Joey's gonna have one of his parties. Avoid the crowds and terrorist crap."

"That sounds pretty good. I'll talk with Michael about it."

"Okay. Just let me know as soon as you can so we can get sleeping arrangements set. Oh, tell Scott he's invited, too."

"We can just stay in a hotel."

"Nope. You put us up, we can put you up."

"Okay. Who else is coming?"

"That you know... Charlie is probably coming with Kate. I don't think you know anyone else. Just friends, mostly."

"Okay. I'll talk with Michael about it tonight. Not to cut you off, but I'm heading out the door," I said.

"No prob. See ya."

"Bye," I said, hung up, and ran out the door to try to catch my train.

"Hey, Randy. 'Sup?" Michael said as he answered the phone. "...Uh huh...Actually we're going to Orlando...Yea...Why don't you just join us?...I don't think so, but I'll ask just to be sure...Okay. How's shooting?...Already?...Ah yea, that's always fun..." I tuned their conversation out as Scott walked in the door.

"Hey guys," Scott sighed and trudged his overloaded bookbag to his room. He dropped it just inside and then lounged on the flip-n-fuck.

"Hard day?" I asked.

"Heavy day. I have a final paper coming up. Lots of research in bricks," he smiled tiredly.

"What are your plans for New Year's?"

"I don't know. I haven't even thought about it. Probably go out with some people to a party at someone's house. Why?"

"Lance called and invited everyone down to Orlando. You, too."

"Really?"

"Yep. He said you're really cute and you can sleep in his bed," I smiled.

"You're just joking, right?" Scott asked hesitantly.

"Yep."

"Good. Um, I don't know. I can't really afford to fly down there. How are you guys getting there? Are you going?"

"Yea, we're going. Avoid the crowds and terrorist crap. I think we're gonna drive. Neither of us want to deal with all the airline security stuff."

"What about Brian?"

"I don't know. What about him?"

"I don't want to just abandon him."

"Okay. Just ask Lance if he can come, too. I'm sure it won't be a problem."

"...Okay...Later, man," Michael said and hung up, only to immediately redial. "Hey, Lance. I was just talking to Randy..."

"Ask him about Brian, too," Scott interjected. Michael nodded. "So what do you think it'll be like? Is it going to be a big celebrity bash?" He asked me.

"I doubt it. Lance said it's at Joey's house and mostly just friends. I'm not sure what that means to him, but I'd probably expect at least fifty people."

"Small party," Scott said and rolled his eyes.

"It may be larger. I've heard that Joey's parties tend to be pretty well attended."

"Of course. Okay, well, I'm gonna make something to eat. Have you guys eaten already?"

"Yea."

"Okay, then I won't make you any," Scott smiled and walked off to the kitchen.

"Randy is gonna join us," Michael said as he hung up the phone.

"What were his original plans?" I asked.

"He was gonna be in the city. They're done filming for now and will be doing a ton of promotion for the DVD release. Big signing gala at Tower Records on the third. Smile pretty and sign. I hate that stuff."

"You never do it."

"I know -- because I hate it. I did a few of them for 'Hedwig'. Conveniently forgot about the others. John had quite a hissy fit about that," Michael smiled.

"Pissing off directors isn't a good thing to do."

"He's not going to do anything else. He didn't really like me, anyway. I'm not worried about it. I fulfilled my contract."

"Okay," I shrugged.

"Oh. Lance said he forgot to tell you that we have to perform."

"Perform what?"

"At Joey's party. Everyone has to perform one song. Some tradition thing with them."

"Okay. Any ideas? Should we tell Scott?"

"If we tell him he'll back out."

"Tell him what?" I smiled.

"Exactly. Anyway, I'll have to think about songs. I think we can probably do something together."

*** [ Sat, Dec 8 ]

"We need to go xmas shopping," Michael stated as we laid in bed.

"We can't go together."

"Yea we can. I already got yours," Michael smiled.

"Hmmm. Must be pretty small if you've hidden it around here."

"It's not here. You'll have to wait."

"I've already got yours, too."

"Hidden here?"

"Nope. You'd find it."

"So then there's no problem."

"Nope. Just seeing if you'd gotten my present yet," I smiled.

He poked me in the ribs. "So we need to get other people's gifts. I think we can pretty safely do couple gifts, right?"

"You mean a single gift from both of us?"

"Yea."

"Sure."

"Okay. Have you gotten anything for anybody besides me?"

"No."

"Good. I say we just do cards for the majority of people."

"The majority? Like who?"

"Charlie and Kate. Justin. Lance. Gus. Michelle. My family. Your family. Um...maybe expand it to include Nick, Katie, Josh, Kerr...um... It might be nice to send one to Alex, and maybe the rest of the cast from 'Jack Shine'. I know I want to get Carolyn a gift. Probably a gift for Jonny..."

"If we get Jonny something we'll have to get Jay something."

"That's fine. We should also get Scott something."

"Yea. Any ideas?"

"I know I'm going to get Carolyn this chocolate and coffee basket thing I saw. Feed her addiction. I'm not sure about anyone else."

"We can just get Jay a CD of some quirky band. He'll be happy with that. Jonny's got a boyfriend, so that's what he really wanted," I smiled.

"Get him a box of condoms and lube?"

"Oh yea. That'll go over well around the Christmas tree," I laughed.

"Hey. I know. How about the Showtime QAF DVDs. Maybe even signed."

"They won't be out until after xmas."

"So we'll just put a note in a card that he'll get it later."

"Okay. That'll work. What about Scott?"

"Your turn to decide."

"Some porno's?"

"Gay or straight?"

"I don't know. Probably both and let him decide. It's not really a good xmas gift."

"Then try again," Michael smirked.

"How about a g-string?" I laughed.

"Nah. Randy should get him that," Michael snickered.

"Yea. How about show tickets at one of the big houses?"

"Sounds perfect, but why one of the big houses?"

"Because they're more expensive so he'd be less likely to go on his own."

"Gotcha."

*** [ Fri, Dec 14 ]

"You can clean our room while you're at it, if you want," I teased Scott, who had spent all afternoon vacuuming and dusting and polishing everything.

"You haven't met my mom. If this place isn't spotless she'll be cleaning it the minute she walks in the door," Scott explained.

"Let her," Michael shrugged.

"She a neat freak?" I asked.

"Pretty much. Not like everything has to be sanitized and everything, but she cleans her house every day and mops the kitchen floor every night before she goes to bed. She can't sleep until she's mopped the kitchen floor. If this place isn't spotless, she'll be worried about it all night. I just want to go out and have a nice dinner, show them the city tomorrow and then go home Sunday morning."

"Which one do you consider 'home'? Your mom's house or your dad's house?" Michael asked.

"Dad's. That's where I grew up and lived. I just stayed with my mom and Bruce on every-other-weekend and the split holidays and stuff. It's all kinda messy. Mom lives in Ligonier, so it takes a while to get back and forth. I try to stay out of their little fights. My mom's no where near as obnoxious as my dad. Bruce is okay, but he's a farmer, so we have hardly anything in common to talk about."

"Any more siblings?"

"Yea. They'll have David and Steven with them. They're okay, but I hardly know them. You know, it's hard to be a good big brother when you only see each other a few days a month. They think I'm cool 'cause I always take them to do stuff, but they're still young and stuff like that works."

"How old are they?"

"David's 9 and Steven's 6."

"I thought you said you had some sisters, too?" I asked.

"Yea, step-sisters. They're Bruce's. Mary is in her twenties and married with a kid already. Ruth is gonna be graduating from high school this year. She doesn't really want anything to do with me or Jack. She's a little bitch."

"Don't mince words. Tell us how you really feel about her," Michael laughed.

"Well, she is. Fortunately she lives with her mother and I don't have to see her very often. Total trailer trash. I'm surprised she doesn't have five kids already."

"Nice. So do your mom and Bruce watch 'Will and Grace' all the time, too?" I smiled.

"No. I think they'll be okay. I explained how you build furniture and the tech stuff. Bruce respects that."

"What about me?" Michael asked.

"He'll think you're a fairy," Scott smiled.

"Oh, okay. I'm the only one here who doesn't do butch building shit, so I'm the fairy?" Michael complained.

Scott shrugged. "To Bruce. Acting isn't real work to him. He won't be nasty about it. He's direct, but he's a country gentleman. Please. Thank you. Yes, sir. No, sir. All that kinda stuff. Even if he hates you, you'll never know."

"And your mom?"

"She'll be okay, but probably asking you for decorating advice," Scott smiled.

"Yea, our home is such a showcase," I said and rolled my eyes.

"She watches that Christopher queen on TV. You know, the decorating one?"

"If that's how she expects us to be, she's gonna be confused."

"Good," Scott smiled and answered the phone. "Hello? ... You just have to drive around... I told you not to bring the dually... Yea, I know, but you're gonna have to drive around forever to find a parking space that big...No, it'll be even worse in the city. What was he thinking? You'll never get that into a garage... Yea, okay. Just a sec," Scott said and covered the phone. "Do either of you know where they can park a huge dually?"

"Dually?" Michael asked.

"Dual back wheels. It's a big diesel pick-up truck," Scott explained.

"Oh. Okay. Most hotels have a few spots for large vehicles. They could just check-in to their hotel and we'll meet them there," I offered.

"Yea, I guess that'll work," Scott said and then relayed the message. "Okay. Let's go," he said after he hung up.

"Where are they staying?"

"The Ramada Inn on Lexington Ave. I don't know what Bruce was thinking. That truck is huge. Why he thought it would be a good thing to bring, I don't know."

"I take it they have another car?" Michael asked.

"Yea. Mom's got a Camry. Bruce's truck is almost twice as long and about seven feet tall. They're never going to get it into a parking garage."

"This their first time in the city?" I asked as we headed out the door.

"Yea. They're gonna be wide eyed," Scott grinned.

We actually got to the hotel first and had to wait for them. They finally came in, looking a bit overwhelmed. Bruce was in jeans and a dress plaid shirt and work boots with a sheepskin lined jacket. Very farmer like. Scott's mom was wrapped in one of those horribly tacky padded ladies trench coats with the shiny gold-brown-green cloth. The kids just looked like any other kids.

"Hello, honey," Scott's mom said and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I don't know how you can stand it here. Oh my. Everything is so packed in and busy."

"It's the big city, Mom. Hello, sir," Scott said and shook Bruce's hand. "This is Jonah and Michael."

"Nice to meet you, sir," I said and gave him a firm handshake.

"Hi," Michael said all campy and offered out a bent wrist.

"Stop it," I laughed and gave him a shove.

"Oh, okay. Hello, sir. Acting is real work, too," Michael said in his normal voice and shook Bruce's hand.

"Everyone has their place," Bruce said and looked around for the check-in desk.

"Hi, Scott. Can we go to the Statue of Liberty?" David asked.

"Maybe. We'll see how the crowds are," Scott smiled and knelt down to give him a hug, and then Steven.

"I'll see to getting us checked-in," Bruce said and went to the desk.

"I take it they found a place for the dually?" Scott asked his mom.

"Yes. They have outdoor parking. Costs a fortune, though. Aren't you going to introduce me?"

"Oh, sorry. Guys, this is Angela, my mom. Jonah. Michael. Oh, and this is Steven and David."

After they were checked-in and cleaned up they met us down in the lobby again.

"Do you want to have dinner first, or see where I live first?" Scott asked them.

"I'm hungry," David said.

"Dinner would be good, thank you," Bruce said.

"Not someplace too expensive, honey," Angela said.

"I'm not going to take you to Tavern on the Green or anything. Is Italian okay? There's this great place in Little Italy that's not too expensive."

"Italian sounds fine," Bruce said. He said it like eye-tal-yun.

We walked down to Angelo's while Scott's family just looked in awe at the sheer size of the city.

"Buon giorno. Back so soon? I didn't expect you for another couple months," Aldo, the head waiter, and Angelo's eldest son, greeted.

"Buon giorno, Aldo. We knew how much you missed us, so we'll try to come more often," I smiled.

"I miss all my customers when I have empty tables," he laughed. "How many for this evening? Three again?"

"Nope. We've got seven tonight."

"You make me a very happy man. Un momento and I will have your table ready," Aldo said and went to push some tables together.

"You must come here pretty often," Angela commented.

"When we want a nice sit down dinner. Aldo remembers everyone who's been here more than once. He's a good guy," Michael explained.

"His dad sang 'Happy Birthday' to me when we came here on my birthday," Scott added.

"Your table is ready. Follow me, per favore. Is okay?" Aldo asked as he presented the table just a few tables in.

"It's fine, thank you," I said as we took our seats.

"A couple bottles of Chianti and soda for the bambini?" Aldo asked.

"Sounds good," Michael said.

"And what flavor soda would you two like?" Aldo asked David and Steven.

"What kind do you have?"

"Oh, we have many flavors: vanilla, chocolate, cherry, strawberry, orange, lemon, kiwi, espresso, banana, and a blending of any of them. Too many choices?" Aldo smiled.

"Um, I want a cherry and banana and chocolate mix, please," David smiled.

"Oh so many flavors, but you are the one who has to drink it. And you, young sir?" He asked Steven.

"Chocolate, please."

"Molto bene," Aldo said and started for the kitchen.

"Excuse me, sir. I'd like a Miller Lite," Bruce said.

Aldo just laughed and continued to the kitchen.

"Now that's rude. What was that about?" Bruce asked.

"They don't have beer here. He probably thought you were joking. They have wine, water, soda, espresso and a few after dinner drinks," I explained.

"Hmm. So what did he decide I wanted to drink?"

"Chianti. He usually pushes the Chianti unless you want to spend a lot of money, or are a kid," Michael said.

Bruce just nodded like he understood, but wasn't quite sure if he liked the idea of drinking wine, or having someone order it for him.

"The menu is on the chalk board," Scott said and pointed to the menu board.

"No menus?" Angela asked.

"On the board," Scott pointed again.

"They change the menu daily. It all depends on what they could get fresh when they did the morning shopping," I explained.

"And what 'Mamma' decided she wanted to make today," Michael added.

"That's a mighty strange way to run a restaurant," Bruce commented.

"It's a true Italian restaurant. It works for them. All family run and they have lots of regulars. Why change it?" I said.

"It's just different."

"Just be glad I didn't take you out for Middle Eastern food," Scott smiled.

"Okay. Here we go. Chocolate-cherry-banana soda for you, and chocolate for you, and...Is there a problem?" Aldo asked David, who gave his soda a strange look. The sodas here were flavored soda water, so it was mostly clear.

"It looks like Sprite," David said.

"Ah, but looks are deceiving. Taste is always the true test. Try it. I guarantee it'll taste exactly like what you ordered," Aldo smiled as he passed out the wine glasses.

"Mine's good," Steven said.

"Yes. Chocolate is very yummy. Now the Chianti," he said and poured everyone else a glass before setting the second bottle on the table, as well as a basket of bread. "Have you decided on your order, or should I give you some more time?"

"We'll need a little more time, thanks," I said.

"Very well," he said and went to greet some people who just entered. They were obviously regulars as well.

"So?" Scott asked David.

"Um, I don't know," David said and still stared at his glass.

"I'll have yours if you don't want it," Steven offered.

"You have your own," David said and slowly took a sip.

"Well?" Bruce asked.

"It's good," David pronounced.

"And the Chianti?" I asked and looked to Bruce and Angela. They gave each other a look, and then slowly took a sip of it.

"Not bad. It'll do," Bruce stated.

"It's okay," Angela said, though it looked like she didn't really care for it.

"If you don't like red wine, they also have a Pinot Grigio. It's a white wine," I offered.

"No, that's okay. It's not that bad," she smiled.

"Just order the white wine, Mom. There's no sense in drinking it if you don't like it," Scott sighed.

"I don't know..."

I raised my hand and waved Aldo over.

"Ready to order?" He asked.

"Not yet. Could you get the lady a Pinot Grigio, per favore. Red wine is not to her liking," I said.

"Oh, I'm so sorry madam. A Pinot Grigio coming right up," he said and headed for the kitchen.

"Thank you," Angela said.

"No problem."

Aldo soon returned with a glass of Pinot Grigio for Angela. It was much more her type of wine. After a torturous explanation of what the things on the menu were, we finally ordered. The Chianti must not have been too bad, because Bruce was on his third glass by the time the food arrived and was starting to loosen up. They also got a kick out of Angelo singing along to the Italian opera on the stereo as he lit candles, cleaned up, and generally checked on everything. Everyone was soon stuffed and Scott's folks admitted it was a fine meal, despite their earlier reservations, over an after dinner espresso.

"Ready to go see where I live?" Scott asked.

I leaned over and whispered in his ear. "It's only 8:30. Why don't you take them to FAO Schwartz."

"Is it still open?"

"It's the xmas season. I think it's open until eleven."

"Okay. That'll work. We're gonna go to FAO Schwartz first," Scott declared.

"What's that?" Bruce asked.

"It's an incredible toy store."

"Honey, I don't need to do any shopping,"

"Trust me, Mom. You need to see this place. It's incredible. You don't have to buy anything. It's up near Central Park."

"I guess," Angela sighed.

We took the train there, which was also a new experience for them. The kids loved it. Bruce and Angela were obviously uncomfortable and seemed to be remembering every New York Subway horror story they'd ever heard.

"I ride the train every day. You're perfectly safe," Scott chuckled.

"It's just good to be aware," Bruce said.

"You hear all those stories, honey. Just because it hasn't happened to you yet doesn't mean that it can't. I was talking with..." Angela said and rambled on about someone she knew who knew someone who witnessed someone getting mugged in New York.

"Are you sure you aren't from Mayberry?" Michael softly teased Scott.

"Next town over," Scott said and rolled his eyes.

"...and he said he wouldn't live in New York City for all the money in the world."

"I live in Brooklyn, actually," Scott smiled.

"You know what I'm saying. Don't get smart with me, young man."

"It's a big city, Mom. You can't expect it to be like Ligonier or 'Busco. I'm still here. I haven't been mugged. I know that it happens, but it's not going to happen to a group of people. Even if there was a mugger stupid enough to attack us this early in the evening and with this many people around, I've got pepper spray. So does Jonah. You don't have to be worried."

"And salt spray," I teased softly in Scott's ear.

He exploded with a laugh, and then gave me a shove. "Stop it."

"Yep. This is our stop," I smiled and stood up.

Bruce and Angela seemed to be relieved when we exited the train, but it didn't last long as we encountered the crowds of shoppers. More people were getting on than getting off the train. We eventually made it up to the street and down to FAO Schwartz. They were all suitably impressed and we were there for at least an hour. When we finally headed for our apartment, the kids were exhausted and fell asleep on the train.

After experiencing the busy streets of Manhattan they were able to appreciate the calmer and more residential atmosphere of Brooklyn. Of course, it could also have been that they were ready to drop, and did so as soon as they got into the apartment. The stairs may have had something to do with that.

"Tire everyone out?" Scott smirked as his family relaxed on the sofa.

"We had a long drive, honey," Angela said. "This area seems nice. Not as crowded as where we were."

"Would anyone like some coffee?" I asked.

All the adults wanted some. Steven just curled up and went back to sleep and David wandered around checking things out. I went to make coffee while Scott gave the tour. Everyone ended up in the kitchen and soon had a cup of coffee.

"I think you lucked out and found a decent place, Scott," Bruce said.

"Yep. Decent friends, too," Scott smiled.

"Well, honey. Not to be rude, but I think we'll go after we finish our coffee. It's been a long day, and Steven is ready for bed."

"We can take a taxi back so you don't have to worry about that," Bruce said.

"Why don't you just leave David and Steven here? Go back to the hotel and have a night to yourselves. They'll be fine here. We've got the guest room with the bunk beds," Scott said.

Angela and Bruce exchanged looks.

"Are you sure, honey?"

"I'll bring them with me to the hotel in the morning. It's no problem. Go out and pretend you're still young," Scott smiled.

"There are plenty of places near your hotel where you can get a drink and listen to live music," I said.

"Any recommendations? We don't want to be wandering around," Bruce said.

"Country," Scott said.

"I can't really help with country. The hotel would be able to help, though. Just ask at the front desk. They'll probably even give you a flyer for that club with a map."

"Well, that sounds good. Maybe we'll do that. Thank you, Scott," Bruce said.

"No problem."

Bruce and Angela left about twenty minutes later after they'd tucked Steven into the bottom bunk and called a cab. David seemed to have gotten his second wind and was asking questions right and left.

"Can we go see the World Trade Center ruins tomorrow?" David asked.

"Maybe. We'll see how the crowds are," Scott answered.

"Have you seen it?"

"Yep."

"What's it look like?"

"A hole and a pile of steel and concrete."

"Are there ghosts there?"

"I don't know."

"You're not gonna forget that we're gonna go see the Statue of Liberty tomorrow, right?"

"I won't forget. Like I said, it'll depend on the crowds. We don't want to stand in line all day."

"Have you been in the Empire State building?"

"Nope."

"I wanna do that, too. Just like King Kong," David smiled and beat on his chest.

"They won't let you climb up the outside."

"They would if I was as big as King Kong. No one would notice here, probably. Everything is huge. Doesn't it feel weird?"

"At first."

"You get to ride a train all the time, though. I flattened a bunch of pennies on the rail at home. I'll show you when we get back. I wanted to make, like, a super-duper penny with three stacked on each other, but they kept falling off. Have you ever done that? Flatten pennies on the rail?"

"Yep."

"Cool, isn't it? Like, the first time we did it we didn't know it would shoot them out, and Mike got hit with one in the arm. It was all red, but it didn't look like a penny, you know, like when you just press one on your arm really hard. I think 'cause it was already flat by then. Do you go to that toy store a lot?"

"Nope. I've just been there once before. Just to see it."

"If I lived here I'd go there every day. Oh, did you know I drove the tractor for the first time last week all by myself?"

"Really?"

"Yea. It was cool. We got snow and Dad let me plow the driveway. He did near the house, though."

"Are you sure you guys are related?" Michael smiled to Scott.

"Yep. He's my brother. We have the same mom, but different dads," David answered.

"He talks as much as you did on your birthday," Michael said.

Scott casually gestured to Michael that he was number one as he asked David if he wanted to watch a movie.

"What movies do you have?" David asked.

"For you...I've got 'Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory'."

"Okay."

Scott went to his room to get the movie and Michael went to the kitchen to make some hot cocoa -- spiked with cognac for the adults.

"Jack said you guys were gay, but you sure don't act like it," David said to me after Scott left the room.

"Okay," I smiled. "How am I supposed to act?"

"Like a girl, of course."

"Who's like a girl?" Scott asked as he walked in with the movie in hand.

"Apparently I'm supposed to be acting like a girl," I smirked.

Scott rolled his eyes. "Jack told you, didn't he?" He asked David.

"Yea. I didn't say anything bad. I just said he didn't act like a girl, so he can't really be gay. Everyone knows that gays act like girls," David protested.

Scott sighed and gave me an apologetic look. I waved it off.

"I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told Jack. Not all gay guys are girly and not all girly guys are gay. It shouldn't matter anyway. What matters is the person, not what their sexuality is," Scott explained.

"You try telling that to kids at my school," David said.

"People don't know any better. At one time it was socially acceptable to lynch a black man. Now it's not. Today it's socially acceptable to lynch a gay man. Someday, hopefully, it won't be. People are just always looking for some way to feel superior," I said.

"We don't have any black people at my school."

"None?" I asked.

"I told you that 'Busco didn't have many black families. Ligonier has none." Scott explained.

"I can't even imagine coming from such a homogeneous place," I said.

"We're not homos," David protested.

"'Homogeneous' means 'all the same'. It doesn't mean that you're gay," I explained.

"Oh. We're not all the same, though. We've got Amish. They're different."

"Okay. That's kinda different. Look at it from my perspective, though. My high school had people of every different color and nationality. We had blacks, Hispanics, Orientals, whites, Arabs, everything. Some came from wealthy families and some from poverty. The only thing that mattered was if you were smart enough to get in and smart enough to stay in. The neighborhoods I grew up in all had people of different colors and nationalities. Even my cousins are mulatto. Having only two groups -- Amish and everyone else -- seems kinda claustrophobic."

"What's mulatto?"

"Their mom is black and their dad is white," Scott explained.

"That would be weird. So what color are they?"

"Each one is different, but mostly a light caramel color."

"Do they act black or white?"

"David," Scott sighed. "They act like individual people. Don't stereotype."

"Hard work raising a little brother, huh?" Michael teased as he walked in with our cocoa.

"Yea," Scott said.

"I'm just asking. I don't know all this stuff," David protested.

"I'm not offended. Ask any question you like," I said.

"I'm not saying that you shouldn't ask questions. Just think about it before you ask something that may hurt someone's feelings. Okay?" Scott said to David.

"Yea, but he just said it was okay."

"But it may not be with everyone. Let's watch the movie," Scott announced. He put in the DVD.

Michael turned off the light and we snuggled up to watch the movie. About half-way through it Steven came out, squeezed between Scott and David, and went right back to sleep.

*** [ Mon, Dec 17 ]

-=-=-=-=- Jonny -=-=-=-=-=-

Damn. Pasha's 'rents must be loaded. I rang the doorbell and Pasha opened it seconds later.

"Hi," he smiled.

"Hey. This is a really nice building," I said as I walked in.

"It's sterile. You have to take your shoes off."

His apartment was huge. The entryway was white marble that led into a large living room that was all white and a wall of windows that looked out over the lakefront. Everything was white or glass and chrome. I guess I can understand how he'd think it was sterile.

"Do you have house magazines doing photo shoots in here?" I smirked.

"You'd think that, but none yet. Let's go to my room where we can actually be comfortable," he said and led me down a hall. He opened the door to his room and it was quite different from the rest of the house. There were actually colors in the room and medium gray carpet. He still had the wall of windows, though, and I noticed that all his posters and everything were very neatly framed and positioned on the wall. Weird.

"Yea, I know it's weird," Pasha said, reading my mind.

"Your 'rents are a bit anal, aren't they?" I smirked.

"You could say that. At least I can relax some in my room," he said and flopped back on his bed. He grabbed a remote off the nightstand and turned on some music. It was "Celebrity".

"Nice choice," I smiled and sat down on his bed. "So how'd your finals go?"

"I don't know. Probably bad. I don't care, really."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I'm just not interested in school stuff, except for art. That's what I want to do. You don't need to know the battles of the Civil War to do a painting."

"You do if it's a painting on the Civil War," I smirked.

"Yea, but why'd I want to do that?" He said and made a face. "I'd rather draw cute guys," he added with a grin. "Like you."

"You should do self portraits, then," I countered.

He blushed. "Thanks."

I leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss. "You're welcome."

"Can I draw you?"

"Yea, sure. I guess. When?"

"Now."

"Okay. Can I see some of your drawings first?"

"Yea," he said and rolled off the bed. He walked over to his desk, grabbed a sketch book and sat back down as he flipped through it. "Here's one I did of Justin," he said and showed it.

"That's really good. I've seen that picture. It looks just like it."

"Thanks. Um..." he said and took it back to flip through it some more. "Here's a friend of mine."

The picture was of a decently built guy in shorts and no shirt sitting on a stool. "Hot," I smiled.

"Yea. Yours will be hotter, though. Um, can we start?"

"Sure. How do you want me?"

"Um...can you be naked on the bed and look like you're sleeping on your back? Maybe put one arm behind your head. If you're comfortable with that, I mean. Um. I mean. If you're not comfortable with being naked then you can just take off your shirt or something," he stuttered.

"I'm okay, though I'll warn you that I'll probably be boned up," I smiled.

"That's okay."

"And you have to be naked, too," I said.

"Um, why?"

"To be fair. If you're gonna get to see me naked, then I should get to see you naked."

"Can it wait until after?"

"Why?"

"'Cause I won't be able to concentrate if we're both naked," he blushed.

"Okay, but you have to kiss me, first," I smiled.

"That I can do," he smiled and leaned in to give me a long and wonderful kiss. "That okay?"

"Better than okay. You want to help me get undressed?"

He answered me by grabbing my shirt and pulling it off. He gave me a quick kiss and then pushed me back. I unbuttoned my pants and he pulled them down -- boxers and all. I was totally boned.

"You're even more beautiful than I imagined," Pasha said softly as he looked me over.

"You've been dreaming about me?" I smiled.

"Maybe," he said coyly.

"I've been dreaming about you," I said.

"Okay. I've dreamed about you, too."

"Another kiss?"

He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Um, no, I need to concentrate," he said as he backed up and grabbed his drawing pad.

"Okay. How do you want me?"

"Um, lay back and put your right arm across your eyes and your left arm out a little from your body. Now turn your right knee out a little. Yea. That's good. Just hold that."

"How long am I gonna have to hold this?" I asked.

"Not too long. Maybe a half-hour or an hour. Let me know if you get tired of it or something and we can stop and finish it next time."

"Okay. Maybe I'll just take a nap."

I could just hear his pencil scribbling across the paper over the music. His room was plenty warm and his bed was really comfortable. I could feel myself drifting in and out. I woke up when I felt him sit down on the bed beside me.

"All done?" I asked as I pulled my arm away so I could see him. He was naked now.

"For now."

"You're beautiful. You should definitely draw yourself if you like drawing hot guys," I said as I felt my penis snap back to attention.

"You want that kiss now?"

"Please."

He leaned in and barely brushed my lips with his. I leaned forward for a stronger kiss and he pulled back with a grin, only to come back with a more passionate kiss. I reached up and held him to me as our tongues played with each other. The kiss continued as he repositioned himself so we was straddling me -- his body pressed to mine. His erection pressed to mine. He felt so good. I can't even describe how good he felt.

Pasha pulled away from the kiss and grinned. "Wanna do more?" He asked softly.

"What we were doing was pretty good," I said and leaned forward to kiss again. He gave me a quick kiss as he pulled himself up so that his erection was right in front of my face. He was about the same size as I am, but kinda bent to the left. Not like a hard bend or anything, but just enough that he pointed to the left. He was totally hard and completely beautiful. It felt like I was being drawn up to lick it. I wanted him so badly.

"Go on," he said and pushed his erection down so he was pointing at my mouth.

I licked my lips and then tentatively licked the underside of his erection. A little pre-cum was there and he tasted delicious. He smelled delicious. I licked him again and smiled at the little shiver that ran through him. He pushed forward a little and I wrapped my lips around the head and licked around. I tried to remember everything I'd ever read about blow-jobs and was careful to keep my teeth covered. He pushed in further and I reached my hand up to stop him before he gagged me. I held my right hand around the base of his erection and slowly pushed him back and then pulled him forward. This was incredible. I had to pull him out so I could shift to sit up a little more to get a better angle, and then pulled him back with both hands. I looked up to see his reaction. He was looking down towards me, but his eyes were kinda rolled back and he looked like he was in bliss. I know I was.

I pulled off him again and licked him up and down, rubbing him all over my face. He sighed and leaned over to grab something, but I couldn't see what it was. A few seconds later I heard something open and a squirt. He stuck his hand behind him and I could see that he was lubing himself up. Maybe he was just fingering himself. I wrapped both hands around his erection and jacked him off while sucking and licking on the head. If his moans were any indication, I was doing a damn good job. Suddenly he pulled back.

"I'm too close. I don't wanna cum yet," he said through heavy breaths and leaned over to the nightstand again. This time I could see what he had. A condom.

He ripped it open with his teeth and gave me a grin before moving down and grabbing a hold of my erection. He licked up the bottom side and then put the condom on me and rolled it down. He squirted some more lube into his hand and then rubbed it all over the condom. It was amazing to watch. He's definitely had sex before -- that, or he's an incredible natural.

As soon as I was lubed up he moved back over me and positioned my erection at his hole. He was leaning over me and his erection was pressed against my belly. He pushed back a little and I felt myself against his incredible heat. It felt really tight like I'd never get in, and then all at once I slid inside him just enough that my head was inside. I think he moaned, and I know I did. This was incredible.

Pasha turned his attention back to me and we kissed as he slowly kept sliding down until I was all the way in. I could feel his heart beat through every part of me. I could feel his breath. I could taste his breath and his flesh and heat.

"Okay. I'm ready. We can start now," he panted as he pulled out of the kiss. He held me tight and started to roll us over. I understood what he was doing and helped. As soon as he could he wrapped his legs around my waist and held me in him. He was now on his back and I was leaning over him.

I leaned in to kiss him again and pushed forward as I did. He moved to meet my slow thrust. I felt him tighten around me. I pulled back and thrust again. He moaned in the kiss and threw his head back. I thrust again and licked his neck.

"That tickles," he giggled breathlessly and pulled his chin back down.

"You're so beautiful and so hot," I smiled and kissed all over his face as I continued to thrust.

"You're the beautiful one. You can do it harder."

"Let me know if I do it too hard. Okay?"

"Yea," he said and pulled his legs higher and over my shoulders.

I moved around to get better leverage and then started thrusting harder and faster. I tried to go all the way in and most of the way out, but it was beyond my control. If there was anything that felt better than this it would probably kill you with pleasure. I think the only reason I hadn't cum is that I'd jacked off before coming over. I'm so glad I did.

"Keep...keep going...I'm...almost..." Pasha said and then moaned loudly and arched his back as he came. I could feel him shooting against my stomach and his and I could feel the contractions tightening around my dick. I couldn't hold out any longer and felt like I was having a seizure or something as I came. My whole body stiffened and shook at the same time.

"What the fuck are you doing!" Someone screamed and pushed me off Pasha and onto the floor. I was completely in a daze and didn't know what the hell happened.

"Kyle? What are you doing here?" I heard Pasha say as I sat up and tried to come back to reality.

"What am I doing?! What the fuck are you doing?! You think I'm away so you just think you can fuck anyone?!" Kyle screamed.

"Who are you?" I asked, irritated, as I took off the condom.

"I'm Kyle. Pasha's BOYFRIEND! Who the fuck are you?" Kyle yelled.

"I'm Jonny. Why didn't you say you already had a boyfriend?" I said to Pasha. He looked trapped.

"Yea. Why didn't you tell him you already had a boyfriend?" Kyle demanded.

"I...um...I..." Pasha stuttered.

I grabbed my clothes and started getting dressed as quickly as I could.

"We're fuckin' through! You hear me? Through! Finished!" Kyle screamed and went to the closet. He started pulling out clothes that he said were his.

"Kyle. Baby. I'm sorry. It just happened. I was drawing him and...you know how I get. Come on, Kyle. Don't be like this. You know I love only you," Pasha stammered and ran over to Kyle, trying to rub up against him to distract him.

"Yea. That was your excuse last time," Kyle snapped, continuing to dig through the closet.

"Come on, Kyle. It's the same thing. I get lonely without you," Pasha tried with a little pout. While he was distracted I tried to leave.

"You don't need to go. You can have him. He's a great fuck. Of course, he gets enough practice. Watch out, though. Leave him alone for a minute and he's hanging all over anything with a dick just to get some attention that mommy and daddy don't give him," Kyle spat out, though it was directed mostly at Pasha.

"That's not fair, Kyle," Pasha pouted.

"You might want to get yourself checked, though," Kyle added.

"I'm completely clean and you know it. Don't even try that. It's not like you have a clean record. What? You can fuck around but I can't? It's okay for you but it isn't okay for me?"

"You're an asshole for playing me. I'm outta here," I snapped and ran out as quickly as I could while they continued to argue.

How could he? How could people be like that? I really liked him. A lot.

As soon as I got home I went straight to the shower. I didn't want his smell on me, though I know I'll remember it for a long time. How could he do that to me? I felt the tears starting and just let them fall. Maybe there's something wrong with me. I'm having horrible luck with guys -- well, sex in general. Girls that want me. Guys that want me. None of them love me. They just want to have sex with me. Pasha should have told me he was already dating someone. I should have asked him. I should have talked more with him instead of just being stupid and horny. We should have gotten to know each other better.

I called Jonah after I got out of the shower.

"Hello," Jonah answered.

"Hey. It's me."

"Hey. What's wrong?"

"Pasha is an asshole."

"Ah. Guy trouble. What happened?"

"He already has a boyfriend."

"Really?" Jonah said, surprised.

"Yea. Apparently they'd been going out a while 'cause he had his clothes in Pasha's closet."

"I'm sorry it didn't work out," Jonah comforted. "How'd you find out?"

"He busted in on us while we were having sex."

"You were having sex?"

"Yea. I know, I should have waited longer, but we didn't plan it. At least I didn't plan it. He was drawing me and I was naked and then he was naked and we started kissing and it just went from there. His boyfriend burst in just as we finished and pushed me off the bed. How can people do that?"

"Do what?"

"Cheat. Lie about having a boyfriend. Have sex with someone else when they already have a boyfriend. Any of it. He never even said he loved me. He just started begging his boyfriend to stay and said that it was just sex. It wasn't just sex for me."

"Do you love him?"

"I don't know. I liked him a lot."

"But do you love him?"

"Not now. Not ever. He's a lying piece of shit."

"Okay. Then just chalk this up to experience and learn from it. You know, this is why I said you should be sure of the person when you have sex for the first time. Every time, actually, but especially the first time."

"Yea, okay. You told me so," I snapped.

"I'm not saying that. Just be careful with your heart. Okay? I know you. You want sex to mean something. I'm the same way. Not everyone feels that way, however. For some people it's just sex. Just something to do to get off. You need to be careful to avoid those people, 'cause they'll only hurt you."

"Yea, I know. I seem to attract them like flies. First that girl and then Pasha. They only wanted sex. I knew with the girl, but Pasha acted like he really liked me. I mean, that was a whole lot of trouble to go through just for a fuck. We went out on dates and talked and stuff."

"I don't know what to say. Maybe you mean something to him, but his boyfriend means more."

"His boyfriend said he's done it before. He said you can't leave him alone or he'll be going after anything with a dick just to get the attention."

"Sounds like he's got problems. Don't beat yourself up over this. Accept it. Learn from it and move on. There's no sense making yourself crazy over it. The only thing you did wrong was get careless with your heart."

"I know," I sighed.

"So everything else aside, how was the sex," Jonah asked and I could tell he was grinning.

Comments welcomed and encouraged. jm_stories@yahoo.com