THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB Stephen
By and copyright Lady Poetess
Disclaimer
This is fiction, with no resemblance to anyone real, dead, or about to be born.
ONE
He wasn't a morning person. The last time he saw 4 am was when an apartment several floors above his caught fire. Hence it took the phone a while to ring before Stephen Patrick David Gately reluctantly opened one eye and grimaced. "Get lost!" he murmured. The phone, as if on cue, stopped ringing.
Blissful silence reigned for two seconds before the damned ringing began again.
"Damn damn damn!" With seemingly great effort Steo sat up on his bed and rubbed his face. He lifted the phone. "This has better be good!" he said curtly.
A warm baritone reached his ears, its dulcet thick Irish brogue reminding Steo of hot warm coffee. "Hello buddy. Did I interrupt anything?" the voice said in husky Irish.
Ronan Parick John Keating, pest extraordinaire. It was all Steo could do to swallow his groan. "Ro, it's 4 in the morning. What on earth are you trying to do? Kill me?"
"Rise and shine buddy. Nobody has ever died of sleep deprivation before." A pause. "You were sleeping, weren't you?"
"Yes I am." Steo fell heavily on his back onto the bed and shut his eyes. "What is it Ro?"
"Well, I have something to tell you. Should've waited till you're wide awake, but I'm just too excited." Another pause, probably for dramatic effects. Ronan was like that. "My uncle died. Long painful process."
Steo's eyes opened wide. "Huh?"
"That cruel old fart has accumulated 14 million dollars in real estate and investments. 14 million! Can you believe it? That fucking miser. I just called Mother. It was all she could do not to jump in joy. Never liked that old bastard after he cut her off without a penny for marrying me Da."
"So what's exciting about it?" Steo walked groggily towards the wide glass window on the opposite wall. He pulled the curtains apart. Strange. He never noticed how beautiful nighttime was.
"Contrary to what the old fart expected, he couldn't take his money to the grave. That dumb schmuck didn't even leave a will. As Mum and me were his remaining kin, we're getting the lion share of the money."
"Now that's exciting." Steo switched on his apartment lights. "So what's it gotta do with me?"
"Well, I'm gonna go back to Ireland. That's a grand wooden castle-like country home up some remote Irish backwaters I have to look at. Thinking of selling it once the paperwork's done. You miss Ireland?"
"Well... sometimes. Every time I hear the 'Star Spangled Banner'. Is that an invitation?"
"A command, actually," Ronan said. "Next Monday, 2.48 pm flight. I've got us tickets."
"Wait..." But Ronan had already hung up.
Steo scowled at the copy of a Picasso hanging on a far wall. That cocky bastard knew him too well. Ronan hadn't even considered than Steo would turn down the invitation. And why the hell he had to call at 4 am anyway?
Sleepiness evaporated with the thought of a visit back to Ireland with Ronan. Ronan Keating, whether Steo liked it or not, was a good friend. They had both came down to New York together, to pursue a career in music. Ronan was a successful singer of torchy, romantic ballads and had a loyal following, especially among females thanks to his golden good looks and a creamy, soothing voice that reminded every listener of long, slow lovemaking in front of a hearth - which wasn't Steve's taste in music. Steve had pursued a different path, treading Broadway and stage. He wasn't too successful, partly because his darker, boyish good looks will never suit many lead roles. But he did well enough. His role as Tobias in acclaimed playwright Ethan Hawke's play was most critically acclaimed and was most probably up for a few awards later this year. And he was chosen to act alongside professional players like Glenn Close and Stockard Channing in his upcoming plays. Steve was well occupied for the next year or two.
He was on his way up, he'd told his mother back home in Ireland. He was content. He was. Although sometimes the loneliness threatened to consume him, almost driving him into melancholic mood swings his friend Ethan plummeted into with alarming regularity. If Steve sometimes found the silence deafening, he kept it to himself. One day, he would reassure himself. One day, he would find the Ultimate Orgasm.
He walked across his spacious apartment, towards the shower. His apartment was wide and roomy; the walls were painted a light shade of cream, the floors white, shiny marble. With his savings he had the whole place renovated, knocking down most walls so that the whole apartment was one giant space separated into two levels by a raised floor halfway through the apartment. A bed in his sleeping area and a table with four chairs in the living area was his only furniture. Shelves and shelves lined the walls of the apartment, displaying CDs, books, wine bottles, and video CDs all arranged neatly. The only concession to privacy is a door leading to the shower.
Ronan always said the apartment was unlivable, but Ronan was always said a lot of things just to irritate Steve. Steo relaxed under a rain of hot water pouring from the shower. There was a time when he fancied himself madly in lust with Ronan. It was hell. Ronan was an incorrigible womanizer and a tease. Steve had no doubt Ro would be horrified that his best friend had entertained thoughts of jumping his bones. It was agony, however, for Steo, to not shiver with need whenever Ronan casually put an arm around his shoulder. Or worse, rubbed the back of Steo's neck with skilful fingers.
"Thank God I'm over it," Steo said loudly to himself. He had hooked up with Clydes Bownes, a Ronan look-alike, the moment he realized his lust for Ronan was getting out of control. After three days of sweaty, sticky, painfully pleasurable sex up at Aspen, Steo had gotten tired and dumped poor Clydes. He took his quick loss of interest in Clydes as symbolic. If Clydes bored the hell out of him that soon, Ronan would too. Hence, why bothered sighing over what couldn't be?
Steo felt just like Ally McBeal. Shit.
Still, if should be easy pickings to spend a few days with Ronan. Just two good friends inspecting a country house. What could go wrong?
TWO
"Here, I brought you a gift."
Ronan gracefully climbed into Steo's car and handed him a package. It looked suspiciously the size of a CD. "Let me guess. Your new album," Steo said wryly.
"Yup, and signed by me." Ronan smiled that beguiling smile of his that always reminded Steo of the serpent in Eden. "Don't be disappointed, Steo. It's not your birthday after all."
It might seem self-absorbed to others, but Steo knew Ronan well. The CD was a gift, an automatic gesture that had become a tradition among them both, such as the front row seat Steo always had for Ronan in his plays and musicals. If anything, it was an acknowledgement between them of how far they had come. Steo kept Ronan's signed CD in a prized display shelf, and he wondered what Ronan did with the backstage passes Steo gave him. And Steo hated himself for wondering.
"One day I must get a car." Ronan sat back, easing his long legs and carelessly placing his arm around Steo's shoulder. "A beauty, just like yours."
Steo suppressed a shiver as white-hot chill shot up his spine at the touch. "Maybe you can get your manager to give you one. Your last CD went quadruple platinum, right?"
He turned to Ronan, then back to the main road. It was sometimes almost painful to look at Ronan's golden beauty. Wavy shoulder length hair of gold-spun brightness framed an aristocratically handsome face. Sensual lips and a pair of eyes so blue it reminded Steo of drowning hyacinths accentuated Ronan's sharply chiseled face. Ronan's lean, sleekly muscled physique didn't hurt too bad either, Steo thought wryly. Jeremy, his buddy, had remarked that it would be heaven to sink one's teeth into those tight buns of Ronan's. Oh yes, definitely. Sink his teeth and probably lick the cleft of those sexy taut buttocks too.
With a groan, Steo realized he was getting a very painful erection right there.
Down boy!
"Maybe." Ronan reached out and turned the stereo on. "A Caddy like this sure beats a limo. Chicks will go wild and hang their panties on the antenna. Or handcuff themselves to the bumper. Leave phone numbers and addresses on my windscreen."
Nothing like Ronan talking about getting laid with women to dampen Steo's surging hormones. Thank you Ro, Steve thought. He looked at Ronan's seat discreetly. It was a great butt though.
"I don't know, Ro. Rest assured nobody has ever left their panties or addresses on this baby before."
Ronan found the AOR station and John Mellencamp began belting out about wild nights and getting drunk in a bar. Steo winced, rummaged through the CD pile, and soon Tori Amos began singing about aborted babies and the pain of schizophrenia.
"Hey!" Ronan said indignantly but did nothing. If anything, the arm around Steo's shoulder wrapped tighter around him.
Steo swallowed and looked at Ronan out of the corner of his eye. The black jeans Ronan was wearing were almost spray-painted. Steo had been fascinated with the intriguing shapes of men's crotches ever since puberty hit him full force, and he hated himself for being not able to resist. Ronan adjusted his legs in the limited room of the Caddy, and Steve's hormones almost broke into heavenly chorus when that denim fabric bunched up the apex of Ronan's thighs. Damn it, why couldn't Ronan move those legs a little bit more... that's it... a little bit more and Steo would bet his Broadway Musical CDs Ronan wasn't wearing any underwear...
A loud screech interrupted his lustful thoughts. "Damn it!" Ronan yelled, leaning over and grabbing the steering wheel from Steo's hands. The car swerved - it had been on the middle of the highway - and tires screeched in protest. The oncoming truck avoided them in time, the furious-looking man driver giving them the universal bird gesture as he drove by.
"I'm OK, I'm OK," Steo said, breathing heavily as he regained control of his driving.
Ronan punched Steo's arm not too roughly. "What the hell was that all about? You were looking into space and I swear you were drooling. Are you out of your fucking mind?"
"Sorry." What had possessed him? Steo took a deep breath. "Won't happen again."
Ronan turned off the CD and switched on the AOR station. "Just what were you thinking?"
"An out of body experience, Ro." Good heavens. Half an hour in close proximity with Ronan and he was already drooling like a nitwit. Over his straight, best friend's crotch. Which wasn't even unzipped. "Won't happen again."
Silence between them was broken ten minutes later when Steve suddenly said, "Was I drooling? I'm not!"
"Yes you were," Ronan said, smiling to himself almost in satisfaction. "Yes you were, Steo."
THREE
They staggered into Sans Diodhrean late dusk. Steo almost sobbed in relief when he saw the town they were approaching. "Bed! Shower!" he said, "Hot food!"
Ronan didn't look too well himself. "Considering our luck, whatever motels there are in that damned place are probably full."
Steo had had enough. He stopped and pulled his cap off his head. Ronan watched, bemused, as Steo threw the cap to the ground and waved a crumpled road map in his face. "'Our luck'? My ass!" said Steo. "It's all your fault. I said we should've chosen that nice little Volks, but no, you wanted that Datsun. Which went dead on us three hours down the road! I said we wait till the car is repaired, but no, you wanna play hitch hiker. I said take the left turning, but no, we have to get lost instead. If all motels are full, I'm gonna kill you!"
Ronan picked up the cap, dusted it, and put it on his head. "OK, maybe we should've taken the right turn. Come on dear, let's go find a place to sleep."
There were no motels in the little fishing town. "Tourists don't need motels. They come in trailers or camp," a matronly storekeeper informed them. "Say, aren't you that Ronan Keating singer fellow? Agnes! Agnes' my daughter! Agnes! Hey, where are you going? Come back! Take a photo..."
"I thought people won't recognize me," Ronan said as they trekked up the hill path to the country lodge that night, both of them armed with flashlights. "Told my manager no bodyguards, nobody is likely to recognize me without my posh make-up and designer clothes."
Steo wiped sweat off his forehead and looked miserably at his almost empty water canteen. "You should've stayed and persuade the Mayor. With your star status they'll get us a helicopter to fly us up here. Or carry us on their back." He drank the last of his water. "I feel as if I've just walked across the Sahara fucking desert."
"Star status is not to be abused," Ronan told him loftily, the effect ruined by a grimace when he stepped on a rock. "OK, so I spoiled our road trip. Next time we'll get Brendan to loan us his private plane."
"Shit!" Steo's flashlight flickered, then went dead. "What next? Grizzly bears?"
"Don't worry. Mine's still working." Ronan looked at the written directions given to him from a star struck restaurant owner. "The lodge will be just right... ahead...oh God."
"Oh God. I thought you said it was a castle."
"My uncle's a miser. Probably the smallest hovel is a mansion to him."
Both of them stood gaping at the small hunting lodge before them. In the moonlight it looked positively run-down. Whatever fencing remained around had either been tangled in overgrowth or lost long, long before. The lodge itself looked like a haunted place, dark and positively reeking of ruin.
"You think there's a toilet in there or do I have to get a shovel?" Steve asked.
"It should be well-furnished according to the lawyers," Ronan said, swallowing whatever indecision he felt. "Come on, we're here already. Let's just go in. I think it's not that bad! Things always look worse in moonlight."
"You got it wrong, Ro." Steo sighed and continued walking. "Things looked better in moonlight, not worst. I hate to think what I'll see when I wake up tomorrow."
"You can look at me then." Ronan fumbled with a bunch of keys. His face was lost in darkness.
Steo's heart had stopped beating when Ronan said those words. You can look at me then. The silence of the woods, with only the soft songs of insects to indicate life, and the coldness of the night air had ceased to torment him. Instead, he wondered if the world heard the accelerated thundering of his heartbeat.
He really shouldn't place too much meaning in Ronan's words.
Ronan is straight. He kept hammering himself with that simple statement, hoping his heart would get the message where his unruly lions wouldn't. He watched as Ronan opened the door, and numbly picked up his bags to go in. Ronan is straight... Ronan is straight... oh yes, straight is nice... stop that! Steo wondered what Ronan would think if he dashed his head against the door.
Thankfully there was electricity, generated by a motor in a shed somewhere behind the lodge. And a shower, though minus hot water, with an irritating tendency to require half an hour for the tank to refill after a shower before the next could be taken.
Steo stood before the window, watching as thunderstorm raged outside. It had started to pour only a few minutes before, and turned into a raging torrent in only minutes. In the cold night air, water condensed on the outer surface, clouding the outside world from his view. Not that it mattered. The wheels of his mind was in full gear, the mischievous part of him suggesting he seduce Ronan, the saintly side warning him such an action would destroy a friendship that had lasted more than a decade. Steo groaned, suddenly feeling utterly, totally alone in this god- fucking-damned world.
"Are you okay, Steo?"
Steo looked up. He could barely see the reflection in the misted glass but it was enough. Ronan had walked out of the shower, clad in jeans that rode low on his hips. It was all he could do to keep his tongue in his mouth as he watched Ronan rubbed away the water drops on his upper body. What he couldn't see clearly, he provided from memory - the feel of the rough cloth rubbing against those smooth skin, clearing away cool moisture... he clenched his fists tight as he tried to regain control of himself. But oh, to have his fingers and tongue follow the trail of the towel, feeling the tight supple skin, gently caressing and touching the hard muscles just below the flesh! To start at the neck, following the curve of the nape, perhaps lingering to trace the fine veins, before down, down to the pectoral muscles. Steo swallowed, almost feeling himself following the collarbone, licking away the moisture with his tongue. Down along the valley bisecting the chest, lingering at those nipples, erect in the cold. Oh yes, one would die of ecstasy feasting on those tempting buds alone. Then down along the abdomen, tracing those ridges of muscles, his tongue cleaning every valley, every ridge...
"Steo?" Ronan came closer.
Stay away, Steo's mind screamed. Oh yes, closer baby, his bludgeoning erection seemed to call.
"Look, I'm sorry. I know you're upset, this place is a dump, I know... but I thought, you know."
Ronan was too close.
Steo took a deep, ragged breath. Control. He hadn't been this close to losing control since high school jock Bobby Roin played strip poker with him years ago. "It's raining Ronan." He tried to clear his mind, send Ronan away. "Can you go see if the heater's working?"
Ronan could be an irritant at times. And he never listened. Steo almost jumped out of his skin when Ronan came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Steo's waist. "Oh God!" he exclaimed, wondering if he could die happy now that he had feel Ronan's naked upper torso against his back.
The shirt Steo was wearing suddenly felt inadequate, too thin. He could feel Ronan's erect nipples burning, boring into his back, and those sleek muscles wrapping him into a cocoon of ecstasy.
"I'm sorry Steo. I thought you would enjoy yourself here," Ronan whispered, looking out to misted window. "Spend some alone, two friends, that kind of thing. It's been awhile since we do anything together after all."
You can do me, Steo wanted to say.
"We'll go back to town and make arrangements to leave, if you'd like," Ronan said.
Tell him.
Ruin friendship.
Probably make Ronan hate him too.
Steo weighed all these in his mind. Ronan was one of his few friends that made the loneliness bearable. If he wanted Ronan to be more than friends, to touch Steo with the affection and need Steo so desperately craved, should it just be best to be left to fantasy.
Feeling the heavy bulge in Ronan's jeans pressing into his buttocks did it. Steo lost control. He turned around and wrapped his arms around Ronan. Taking a deep breath he pulled Ronan's mouth to meet his.
Ronan stood still, probably in shock. "Damn it, kiss me!" Steo whispered, roughly forcing his lips between Ronan's, rubbing his tongue along Ronan's lips, coaxing him to open, open, open, and just kiss me, damn it.
Ronan didn't move.
Despair tore at Steo, almost making him howl in pain. He'd done it. Led by his unruly cock, he'd destroyed their friendship.
"Damn you Steo." Then Ronan's arms came up and pulled Steo into a warm, crushing embrace and their lips met. Steo almost choked in pleasure when Ronan's tongue insinuated into his mouth, their tongues dancing around in a sensual serpentine rhythm of writhing, rubbing, coiling, and feeling. He tilted his head for the taller Ronan to explore his mouth fully, arching his back and letting himself drown in Ronan's embrace.
Steo arched his neck, moaning softly as Ronan now licked the skin of his neck. He ran his palms down Ronan's back, feeling the warm skin burning his palms, and hesitated when his fingers touched Ronan's waistband. He felt Ronan froze, but there was no mistaking the way the latter pressed his erection urgently at the juncture of Steo's thighs.
Steo reached for Ronan's zipper even as Ronan now cupped Steo's face in his hands and kissed him again, hard. Steo's hands trembled, but they managed to pull Ronan's jeans down his hips. His blood boiled with the need of fulfillment, and fuck if he knew how he got his own jeans off, but when Ronan lifted his mouth from Steo's, they both looked down at the juncture of their bodies.
Steo looked at Ronan's thick, throbbing cock, the wet moist tip lodged amidst the center of the pucker of Steo's anus. Steo felt the cock flex, throb, then he lifted his legs, wrapping them around Ro's torso even as Ro, a glazed look on his face, began pushing himself up Steo, inch by inch.
Steo threw his head back and gave a cry of joy, relief, and pain as Ro filled him slowly, stretching him painfully. He balanced himself, placing his hands on the windowsill and letting Ro sit him on the window ledge.
Ronan placed his forehead against Steo's chin, breathing harshly as they both soaked in the sensation of Ronan embedded so deep up Steo that Steo could feel the man's rough pubic bush brushing his own testicles. "Steo," he heard Ronan murmur, and felt the man's right hand caressing his cheek.
"Shut up and fuck me, damn you," Steo whispered, digging his fingers into Ronan's buttocks and urged him on with one hard thrust of his groin down at that cock impaling him.
Ronan needed no further urging.
Steo placed his head against the glass, biting his teeth and closing his eyes tight against the wild ebbs of pain and pleasure sweeping through him. Ronan pumped him hard, his hands holding Steo's thighs around him, each thrust causing Steo to rattle the window frame.
At length Steo watched Ronan's eyes glazed from disbelief to pleasure, then he was groaning loudly, emptying himself in one final plunge up his best friend.
FOUR
"I can't believe I just ejaculated up my best friend," Ronan shouted weakly, before reaching for the toilet bowl and throwing up again for the second time. "Sorry," he said weakly.
Steo handed him a towel in silence.
"Look, I'm sorry," Ronan said. "I just don't know what had gotten over me."
"I know. Temporary insanity," Steo murmured softly, closing his eyes warily. He refused to feel any pain.
"Yeah, that's it," Ronan said gratefully, pulling his bathrobe around him as he walked out of the bathroom.
Steo handed him a glass of water.
"Talk to me, Steo," Ronan said after a grateful gulp. He frowned. "What?"
"Nothing." Steo just wanted to lie down and die. Maybe if he wished hard enough he would wake up and realize that all this was just a nightmare. And he refused to give Ronan the satisfaction of seeing him break down and cry. No way.
"You are so fucking stupid, you know that, Ro?" he couldn't help saying, however, before walking off to his bedroom. He slammed the door hard.
FIVE
Two weeks later
Stephen woke up to see Ronan sitting beside his bed two weeks later. At first neither of them spoke. Ronan sat there, silent, his hands folded under his chin as he glared accusingly at Steo, as if he blamed Steo for some hurt the man caused in him.
"How did you get in here?" Steo asked, making to sit up until he realized he was naked underneath his sheets. He hesitated.
"No, get up. Why are you so scared of letting me see you naked? Think I'll jump your bones?"
The last sentence was said in a low, suggestive tone that sent a thrill up Steo's spine. Hell, Steo was having an erection right now.
"And I asked the building supervisor to unlock your front door for me." Ronan moved, straightening his right leg and placing his bare foot right over Steo's left thigh, thus preventing Steo from moving away. "You left me stranded in Ireland and never returned my calls. I want to know why."
Steo jumped at the underlying edge of barely restrained temper in Ro's voice. "I thought you don't want to see me again."
"Since when did you start deciding how or what I will feel?"
Steo felt his temper rising. "Look, you threw up and told me to 'forget it' when I tried to talk to you about… about that night. What am I to expect?"
"I don't know." Ronan sighed and looked away, deflated. "I really don't know. Look, I'm confused, okay? I mean, I now don't really know who I am anymore. Cut me some slack, okay?"
"Okay," Steo said. He couldn't bear it, seeing Ronan looking this way. "I'm sorry."
"And stop apologizing. Gosh, you're whiny." Ronan stood up. "Is there any good food around the house?"
Steo winced when lights flooded the room. Trust Ronan to ignore the fact that he was trying to sleep. He watched Ronan rummage through the fridge for a while before taking pity on the man. "I don't have anything in there or in the pantry. I'm afraid you have to deal with some eggs in the pantry."
Ronan cast him a dirty look. "Eggs it is."
"Why did you run away?" Ronan asked later after he had cleaned away the dishes.
Steo hadn't moved from his bed. Stupid really, but he didn't dare move. Not that he cared. Watching Ronan efficiently frying the egg, his rolled-up shirt- sleeves exposing his arms, was enough for him to pass the time. Ronan moved in brisk strides, each stride causing the pale blue slacks to stretch taut against smooth gentle curves of buttocks and thighs. And Steo remembered so well running his hands along those curves.
He remembered everything, the feel of Ronan's cock thrusting in and out of him, and the way the man's cock harden even more right before it spilled its seminal juices up Steo's anus. And he had dreamed of that night each night, waking up in pure frustration.
He missed Ro, he loved Ro, and he cursed the day he was stupid enough to let Ro have him.
Yet now Ro was in his house, making himself at home. Steo felt the slow burn of hope in him, which he tried not to encourage.
"Why did you come here?" Steo asked in return.
"I've been thinking," Ronan said, pouring himself some milk. "And I realize that I missed you. A lot."
"Well, I missed you too if it makes you feel any better."
"I'm trying to be sentimental here, which isn't easy, so can you just not fucking interrupt?" Ronan said sharply. Upon Steo's arch look, he continued, "As I'm saying, I'd like you to know that I like you. I don't know why, for you complain, whine, and bitch all the time, and most of the time you're a pain in the ass, but I really like you. You're the only guy I know that I like talking and being with. And I don't see why us sleeping together has to change that."
"No it doesn't," Steo agreed quickly. He would burn inside and probably die day by day denying that night had ever happened, but if he would have Ronan in his life again, he would do so three times over. He couldn't bear his lonely life otherwise.
All of a sudden Ronan jumped onto Steo's bed, landing heavily beside Steo who had just rolled out of the way in time.
"Hey, if the bed collapses you're fucking paying for a new one!" Steo yelled.
Ronan merely smiled and looked at Steo, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "And hell, if I have to sleep with you to continue being your friend, I'll do it." He suddenly pounced, grabbing Steo by the man's shoulders and pulling the latter over to straddle him.
"You don't have to fuck me to have my friendship," Steo started to say,
Ronan made a disgusted sound. "It's no hardship. You're a damned good lay. Best I can think of, in fact, and once I got over my initial surprise, I must admit I really enjoy it."
"Really?" The proof, however, was in that huge bulge now pressing against Steo's stomach.
"Yeah. You'll have to teach me though, I'm pretty new to all this." Ronan smiled. "Why say you, Steo?"
"You'll be a quick learner, I bet," Steo murmured, bending over to kiss Ro.
EPILOGUE
"So how is life so far?" Tobey Maguire, one of Steo's closer friends, asked.
"I'm getting used to it," Ronan said. His fingers went to his lips, rubbing the lower lip as his face blushed at a memory of what Steo taught him last night. "It's not that bad."
Tobey looked away, not wanting to let the man see the smile on his face. Wait until he tell Jeremy who had always disliked Ronan this. "So you won't be suing me for bad advice, I guess?"
"You're right. You ask me to think and I did. Steo's the most important thing in my life. And sleeping with him feels right, you know?" Ronan smiled to himself gently. "I don't know, I mean, I'm still not attracted to guys, but somehow with Steo I just -- it's like I've been waiting for him all my life."
Ronan turned his smile on Tobey, who was oblivious to its devastating effects. Tobey was oblivious to everything. "Thanks Tob, for making me go after Steo. It's enough to make me forgive you for egging Brendan to indulge Steo when he begged him to get him away from me."
"No problem."
Tobey waited until Ronan was out of the restaurant, then dialed Jeremy's number on his phone. "Jeremy? Tobey here. Guess what? Prepare to pay up. Tell the other guys too. I've won the bet."
Life was good. Tobey looked outside the window and saw, across the street, Ronan walking up to Steo and taking that man's hand in his. "I could use some of that," he thought somewhat wistfully. Then again, maybe with a little less sugar.