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 XVII Original post 5 May 2002

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

*** [ Friday, Sept 14 ]

"We should have Gus over for dinner sometime," I said to Michael as we were eating a late dinner in town.

"Um... He's pretty busy. Probably won't be able to make it."

"Still has to eat. Can't do any harm to ask."

"Really. He's probably not going to come," Michael evaded.

"What's up?"

"Nothing."

"Did you have an argument with him? The way you've talked about him before makes him sound like an important person in your life. I'd like to meet him. I'm sure he could make time for you, or are you afraid for us to meet?"

"He knows about you."

"Then what's the problem?"

"It's just... Nevermind. I'll ask him. Sunday night okay?"

"Sure. Why are you acting weird about this?"

"I don't know. It's just like two different parts of my life getting together and comparing notes."

"What? You have some secret life?" I teased.

"No. I already told you I used to be much more of a punk. Gus knows me from that time. He's already said he wanted to meet you a couple times. Meet the guy who tamed me," Michael said and rolled his eyes.

"Tamed you? You're still a punk. Shit. Makes me sound like a wife, kids and mortgage all in one."

"I know, and you didn't tame me. I tamed myself. Somewhat."

"Yea. Somewhat. Don't start getting boring on me."

"You asked for it," Michael grinned.

"Just so you don't pick up a drug habit."

"Nope. Just booze and cigarettes," he said and drained his wine glass.

"You had to mention it," I groaned.

"What?"

"Cigarettes. I've been wanting one all day."

"Then just have one."

"Maybe after dinner. I don't want to become a regular smoker. How have you been doing?"

"I have to smoke for the part. Quite a few."

"That's gotta suck."

"What?"

"If you were an ex-smoker and had to smoke for a part."

"Yea. Fortunately, I'm just a part-time smoker."

"You know, you don't have to hide your life from me."

"I don't."

"Then why is it the only friends you've had over are people we both know?"

"No reason. I already told you I don't hang out with a lot of the people I did when I first moved to the city."

"You don't talk to anyone?"

"Not like I used to. I talk to JT occasionally, but usually just a quick call or lunch. Um...you already know about Gus... It's not a conspiracy or anything. I just wasn't close to many people, and alienated some who I was close to. I've also been busy," Michael said and poured himself another glass of wine. "It's not like you've had tons of people over."

"No one I'm that close to. Mostly people I know from school, so if we do something it's usually in town and spur-of-the-moment."

"So what's the problem? Ashamed of me?"

"No. Why are you getting bitchy?"

"Sorry. I think I've had enough to drink," he said and pushed the bottle towards me.

"Just tell me."

"There's nothing to tell. I only have so much free time in a day. You're very important to me so I spend as much time with you as I can. On top of that I still need time for myself. There's just a lot of stuff going on with work. Oh, here's something else: I took another film."

"Great. When?"

"October 15 'till just before Thanksgiving."

"Remember that we're going to Chicago for Thanksgiving."

"Yea, I remember."

"What's the film?"

"Who knows what they're calling it today. Maybe 'Fool Proof'. Maybe 'Murder by Numbers'."

"I thought you already rejected it."

"I did. Barbet just kept hounding me. I caved."

"So basically you're feeling stressed because you can't say no," I teased.

"Probably."

"Where's it shooting?"

"West coast. I don't know where yet."

"That's just after we were going to go up to Toronto. Do you want me to call Randy and cancel?"

"No. I want to do that. It should be fun. Like a micro-vacation."

"Okay. Just don't stress out about it."

*** [ Sun, Sept 16 ]

"You know what I don't understand?" Michael mumbled as we laid in bed.

"Quantum physics?"

"That too," he grinned and nudged me. "I'm talking about schedules. Almost everyone in the entertainment business is a night person, and yet almost every production I've ever been part of starts shooting in the early morning. Even worse is that when I have a day off, I still wake up way too early."

"Getting as much daylight as they can?"

"For some, but day or night doesn't matter if you're shooting on a sound stage."

"Then just stick to live theatre."

"Nice idea, but film pays better and gives you more exposure."

"Sell-out," I teased.

"Blow me."

"Again?"

"Anyway. Film is like work-work. There can be art, but it doesn't happen often. Theatre can be art more often. Doing work-work means I can do play-work when I want."

"Like 'Monsters'?"

"Yea. That should be fun."

Michael was running around and being a hyper, nervous wreck. Then the buzzer went off.

"Okay. That's him. Just... Just smile and nod if he starts telling stories," Michael pleaded.

"You're so cute when you're nervous," I teased and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "Now go let him in."

"What? Oh, yea," he said and ran to buzz Gus in. I followed and opened the door. Gus walked in a minute later.

"Hey, man. Thanks for coming," Michael said and gave Gus a quick hug.

"Are you kidding? I finally get to meet your man -- and here he is. Hello, Jonah," Gus said and shook my hand.

"Hey. Nice to finally meet you, too."

"You can relax now, Mike," Gus teased.

"I am relaxed. Couldn't be more relaxed," Michael said.

"Uh, huh. You weren't this nervous when I met your parents," I teased.

"It didn't matter what my parents thought of you. It does matter what Gus thinks."

Gus and I both gave him a look.

"Anyway, come on in to the kitchen. Dinner is just about ready," I said.

"You want something to drink?" Michael asked. "We've got wine."

"What kind? If you tell me Boone's Farm..." Gus laughed.

"No way. La Cardonne MŽdoc, '96," Michael countered, smugly.

"Really? Sure. I'll have a glass. When did you start drinking good wine?"

"We discovered it when we were in Paris," I said.

"We tried a different wine each night. Where was it we had the MŽdoc?" Michael asked me.

"Um, that was the night we went to Les 7 LŽzards, right?"

"Yea, I think so. In the 4th."

"I think it was TrŽsor."

Gus gave Michael a funny grin.

"What?" Michael asked.

"Just you. Talking about good wine and cafŽs in Paris -- and remembering them, no less. You've come a long way in the few years I've known you," Gus smiled.

"Am I not allowed to grow up? Mature?" Michael countered.

"Oh yea, what's this about making me sound like a wife, kids and mortgage all in one?" I said to Gus.

"Excuse me?"

"About you saying that he tamed me," Michael explained.

"I never said that -- at least not like that."

"You implied it pretty directly."

"No, Michael. I believe I said that it was nice that you seemed to have calmed down some and actually spend time at home. I said that you must have something pretty good waiting for you," Gus corrected.

"Well, I do have a reason to be at home now."

"And he hasn't calmed down," I added.

"Yea. I'm still doing things all the time."

"Okay, okay," Gus surrendered with a laugh.

Dinner with Gus was nice. I understood why Michael enjoyed his company. He had a story about everything and was a good storyteller -- probably a good skill in a director. We had coffee and talked more after dinner. Gus left around ten.

"I like him," I said to Michael as he dropped down on the sofa beside me.

"Good. I think he likes you, too."

"Not as bad as you feared, huh?" I teased.

"I wasn't worried."

"Uh, huh. So what was the comment about Gus' opinion of me being more important than your parents'?"

"Sorry. It's true. I have a lot of respect for Gus. I love my folks, but they really don't understand anything about me. Gus does. I know it's weird, but..."

"Okay. Just wondering."

"I'm gonna go to bed now," he said and gave me a quick kiss before getting up.

"If you're late you'll have a good excuse. The director kept you up late."

"It'll only work if he's late, too. He's never late."

"Oh well. Night. Love you," I said and gave him a pat on the butt as he walked away."

"Love you."

*** [ Sat, Sept 22 ]

I awoke to the sound of a couple people in the living room moving stuff. I pulled on some clothes and went to see what was up. Two guys were carrying Danny's mattress out the door.

"Oh, hey, Jonah. Um...moving out," Danny said.

"I see. Do you have a forwarding address and number, in case anyone calls?"

"Uh, yea. Just a sec.," Danny said and grabbed a notepad to scribble down his info.

"You're moving back to Atlanta?" I asked after seeing his new address.

"Yea."

"What about your job and school?"

"I've got another job. I just... I just need to get out of here. It's too expensive. It's too dangerous. I mean, I was thinking about it before, but the WTC thing sealed it. It's also closer to Lance when he's not on tour."

"You guys are still okay?"

"It's a rough spot," Danny cringed.

"Okay. Well... Good luck," I said, unsure of what else to say.

"Thanks. Um, I know this ended badly, but I just want to say thanks. If I wasn't such a freak about some things... Well, you guys were good roommates..."

"You were, too, until Lance left."

"I know. Um, I really am sorry about that."

"Doesn't matter now."

"I know. So, um, I should be out of here in another hour or so. Um, we'll probably see each other again if Lance and I stay together."

*** [ Tues, Sept 25, 2001 ]

I was reading in the Green Room between classes -- a short break before I got paged about some minor emergency in the Studios.

"Hey, Jonah."

"Hey," I said without looking up from my book.

"You still looking for a roommate?"

I looked up at Scott, a freshman scenic designer, with my "Roommate Wanted" ad in his hand. He was a slavecrafter on my crew.

"Yep. Interested?"

"Nah. I just wanted to know," he joked.

"Okay," I dismissed and went back to my reading.

"Really, man. I was just kidding. I'm looking for a place," he scrambled.

"Sorry. I already found someone."

"What? You just said..."

"Kidding."

"Oh. Duh. So it's still available. Where is it? What's it like? Is it a safe neighborhood?" Scott asked as he sat down beside me on the sofa.

"Brooklyn. The neighborhood is relatively safe. Haven't had any problems so far. My apartment is fairly nice. Third floor. You'd have your own bedroom. One bathroom. Fire escape on the front. Cool roommates," I smiled.

"You have more roommates? How many?"

"One."

"He in the department?"

"Not this semester."

"Uh, okay. How much is it?"

"$500 plus 1/3 utilities."

"I'll take it."

"Maybe. You'll have to pass the test first."

"Test?"

"Yea. You don't think I'd rent to just any psycho theatre student, do you?" I joked.

"Oh, yea. It is New York so I guess you have to be really careful."

"Everywhere else, too. Where are you from?"

"I'm sure you've never heard of it."

"Where?"

"Churubusco, Indiana."

"Where?" I teased.

"Told you. Small town north of Fort Wayne."

"New York must be quite the culture shock."

"That's an understatement. It's cool though. Stuff goin' on all the time. 'Busco rolls up the sidewalks at six," he laughed.

"Where'd you get your theatre experience, then?"

"The high school has a pretty good theater that the community theatre also uses."

"Okay. Any brothers or sisters?"

"An older sister, a younger sister and three younger brothers."

"Must be Catholic."

"Methodist. My folks are divorced and remarried. Except for one younger brother, they're all half or step."

"Are you a slob or a neat freak?"

"Somewhere in-between."

"Why are you looking for a place?"

"'Cause the dorms suck. I've already had my stereo stolen and my roommate is a jerk with no consideration for anyone else."

"How so?"

"Well, when he wants to listen to his music, he cranks it -- no matter what time it is or if I'm sleeping or not. He also never locks the door, which is how my stereo got stolen."

"Okay."

"Also with the Trade Center and that stuff... My folks weren't very happy about me coming here in the first place. At least if I'm away from the area they can't use that against me."

"Okay. How do you feel about black people?"

"Um, they're people... I'm not really friends with any. I mean, 'Busco didn't have many. I'm not a racist, if that's what you're asking."

"Basically. How do you feel about gays?"

"You have a gay, black roommate?" Scott tried to joke.

"Not exactly. So?"

"Um, I don't have a problem with someone being gay -- just as long as they don't hit on me or anything like that."

"And what would you do if a guy hit on you?"

"I'd tell him to stop."

"Okay. What about living with a gay guy?"

"Your roommate is gay?"

"He'd better be, or I'm gonna break up with him," I laughed.

"You're gay?" Scott whispered with a nervous look.

"You don't have to whisper. I already know," I whispered back.

"Um, sorry. I just wouldn't have guessed. You act like a regular guy."

"I am a regular guy. I'm guessing you didn't have anyone openly gay in Churubusco?"

"No way. Like I said: it's a small town."

"So does that make you uncomfortable?"

"Um, no. I guess not. I'll have my own room, right?"

"Yea, but you can't hide in your room all the time. If it makes you uncomfortable, I don't want you there. It wouldn't be fair to you or to anyone else."

"If your...boyfriend is like you and not all girly, then I'm okay. I mean I wanted to get away from the small town... That's why I came here instead of someplace close to home."

"Good. Next question. How do you feel about celebrities?"

"Weird question. What do you mean?"

"I mean do you get excited? Hate them? Couldn't care less?"

"I don't know. I've never met anyone really famous. I'd like to think I'd be really cool about it and not spaz out. Depends on who, I guess. Why? Is your boyfriend a celebrity, too?"

"Doesn't matter, or it shouldn't. We have quite a few friends who are working in the biz and stay with us when they're in town. It's quite annoying to have someone bug-eyed at you when you're just trying to relax."

"Well, like I said, I've never met anyone famous. There's only one way to find out."

"Okay. Last question. How hung are you?" I asked and tried not to smile.

"Um, what?"

"You heard me."

"Um, I don't think that's any of your business," Scott said a bit uncomfortably.

"You're right," I smiled. "It was just to see how you handled it. Sometimes the joking gets pretty raunchy. As long as you realize it's just play and laugh it off, you're fine."

"Uh, yea, okay. So do I pass? Though I'm having second thoughts after your last question."

"You passed my questions. You'll have to meet Michael and get his approval before you sign the lease."

"When?"

"Probably a weekend. He's in production and is asleep by ten. We've also got productions here."

"Yea, I know. It's killer to be in class all day and the theater all night," Scott said.

"You get used to it and it gets easier. Theatre isn't a 9-5 job. Unless, of course, you were thinking nine to five the next day," I joked.

"Haven't had one of those days, yet."

"Yet," I smiled. "The semester is still young. I'm sure they do it to weed out the people who aren't serious."

"I may have found a new roommate. Do you have time to meet him sometime soon?" I asked Michael.

"Yea, sure. Who is it?"

"A freshman in the department. Scenic designer. Scott McManis. He's a slavecrafter on my crew."

"Slavecrafter?"

"Department term. Stagecraft is a core class. Part of the class is to work six hours a week in the shop. Slave labor. Slavecrafters."

"Ah. Tell me about him."

"I don't know him that well. He's probably one of the more competent slavecrafters -- meaning that I can expect him to do what I say without having to stand over his shoulder -- so far. Beyond that, I just asked him a few questions about how he feels about living with gay guys, etc."

"Is he gay?"

"I don't know. If he is, he's still in the closet. He came from a small town, so it may be another year or so before he comes out, if he is."

"Got it timed?"

"Pretty much. People who come from small towns tend to be deeper in the closet because they have to be. It seems to take a year or two in the big city before they start exploring. At least that's what I've seen."

"Okay. Cute?"

"You're already taken," I smirked.

"I'm just asking," Michael shot back.

"He's okay, I guess. Black hair that's short in back and shaggy long in front. Fairly pale complexion. Probably six foot tall. Thin build. Kinda cute, I guess."

"Why's he looking for a place after the semester's started?"

"He hates the dorms and his roommate."

"Okay. Wanna do lunch with him on Sunday?"

"I'll ask him."

*** [ Friday, Sept 28 ]

We had to be at the airport at 7pm for a 9:30pm flight. We both agreed that it sucked. I understand the need for security and all, but isn't there a faster way? After forever, we finally left the ground, and then a short forever later we were in LA.

"Hey, mates," Charlie greeted us at the gate with a hug and grinning like a madman.

"Hey, man. You can't be this happy just to see us," I said.

"Oh god, does it show?" Charlie blushed.

"You met someone?" Michael asked.

"Oh yes. Not just anyone. An amazing, really sexy and fantastic and intelligent and beautiful woman," Charlie sighed sappily.

"He's in love," I said, stating the obvious to Michael.

"Yep. What's her name?"

"Kate," Charlie smiled.

"Very Shakespearean. When do we get to meet her?"

"I don't even have her number yet. I just met her today at a lunch meeting."

"So you're totally in love with a woman and you don't know her phone number or where she lives, never been on a date and only met once?" I said.

"Yea, I know it sounds Hollywood, but she's the one," Charlie smiled.

"Don't you think you might want to have at least one date before you start planning the wedding?" Michael teased.

"Blow me," Charlie shot back.

"Been there. Done that," Michael smirked.

"Anyway. How are you going to get her number? Did she seem like she liked you?" I asked.

"She didn't tell me to piss off. I'll call my agent tomorrow and have him find it."

"You didn't do it today?"

"I don't want to come across as desperate."

"Then I wouldn't mention the wedding on your first date," Michael confided.

"If she'll even go out with me."

"Why wouldn't she? I'd do you," I smiled.

"And have," Michael added.

"Whatever. Come on. You'll love my new car," Charlie said happily and stood between Michael and me with his arms around our shoulders as he led us out to the parking lot.

"What did you get?" I asked.

"A Volvo."

"A Volvo?"

"The C70 Convertible. It's totally posh."

"Okay. At least you didn't get the station wagon."

"Nope. Oh, man. It's great. Put the top down and go cruising through the mountains..."

"You've done that already?"

"First day I got it," Charlie grinned. "Had to. Oh shit, did you guys need to pick up your bags?"

"Nope. Just brought carry-on."

"So what's up with the hair? Going for that shaggy look?" I teased and mussed his hair.

"I like it. Besides, Michael here is looking pretty long as well."

"I look as stupid with short hair as you do with long," Michael smiled.

"Okay. Here's my baby," Charlie grinned as we walked up to a silver convertible.

"Very nice," I said, honestly.

"Really. Can I drive?" Michael tried.

"Yea, right!" Charlie laughed. "No one drives this but me -- at least until the newness wears off."

We threw our bags in the trunk and got in. I got shotgun. Charlie started it up, put the top down, and carefully backed out of the parking spot. Once we were clear, he floored it for a second -- the force pushing all of us back in the seats and squealing the tires.

"It's got some horsepower, huh?" I commented.

"Oh yea. Wait until we get out on the highway," Charlie grinned and slowed down to pay the parking attendant. As soon as we were out on the highway, he picked up speed and was passing cars right and left. I leaned over to see how fast we were going. 100 MPH.

"Charlie!" I yelled.

"Yea?"

"Slow down, man. You get a ticket going this fast they'll deport you."

"What?" Charlie glanced down and noticed how fast he was going. "Oh. Got carried away," he grinned and slowed down to the 75 MPH the rest of traffic was doing.

"This is home, for now," Charlie said and opened the door.

We walked into an empty living room. The floor was a dark terra cotta tile. There was a patio door to a small balcony on the opposite wall. On the left was the kitchen and dining area, and on the right was the single bedroom and the bathroom.

"Sorry, don't have much furniture, yet."

"Much? Don't you mean any?" Michael said.

"I've got the important things. Dining room table, bed and chest of drawers. Anyway, you guys are sleeping with me, unless you want to sleep on the tile floor," Charlie said and lead the way to the bedroom. At least he had a queen size bed.

"The bed is fine with me," I said.

"You eat dinner yet?" Michael asked Charlie.

"Nope. Waiting for you guys. You wanna clean up or something before we head out?"

"Where are we going?"

"We'll get something to eat and then hit this club I found."

"I'm really happy you guys are here. It's good to see some friendly faces," Charlie slurred.

"Still hating LA?" I asked, feeling a bit drunk, myself.

"It blows. I thought the kids I went to school with were a pretentious bunch of tosspots. They don't come close to most of the sods in LA. Everyone acts like they're rich and famous -- even if they aren't," Charlie ranted. "'Oh Charlie. You're gonna be at Leo's party, aren't you? Everyone's going to be there,'" he mocked.

"Did you go?"

"Fuck no. I met him one night in a club. Wouldn't even give me the time of day."

"You didn't expect him to beg a shag, did you?" Michael teased.

"Well, yea. Of course," Charlie laughed. "I wouldn't have done him, though. I did expect a little common courtesy. We were sitting at the same table with a group of people. He ignored me."

"Oh no. The ultimate sin," I laughed.

"Damn right. Love me or hate me, but don't ignore me," Charlie stated and slammed his fist down on the table for emphasis.

"What about the people in the show with you?" Michael asked.

"Most are okay. No real connection, though. Know what I mean? It wasn't just an immediate comfort with each other."

"Why?"

"It's nothing bad. I've hung out with them a few times after work. It just seemed...I don't know. Maybe it's just LA."

"I'm ready to split," Michael said.

"Yea. I'm there, myself," I agreed.

"It's only one," Charlie said.

"But we're still on New York time. You're already pissed anyway."

"Very true, my friends. Let's see if we can get a taxi," Charlie said and stumbled to his feet, practically knocking the table over in the process. Michael grabbed the table and I grabbed Charlie.

"Yep. Definitely pissed," Charlie chuckled.

There was a taxi stand a half-block from the club, so we had no problem finding one. Twenty minutes later we pulled up to Charlie's apartment complex. I paid for the taxi and we half-carried Charlie up. Charlie pulled out his keys and fumbled with the lock for a minute before turning around.

"Are either of you sober enough to find the damn key hole?" Charlie grinned. "It keeps moving."

Michael took the keys and opened the door. I closed the door behind us and locked it. The three of us stumbled to the bedroom. Michael and I went into the bathroom first. Charlie stumbled in as soon as we flushed the toilet, naked.

"Gotta piss," Charlie mumbled and pushed past us to the toilet.

We brushed our teeth, drank some water and went back to the bedroom. We got undressed and climbed into bed.

"Which side is Charlie's?" Michael asked.

"I don't know," I said, but didn't move. We were lying on our backs in the center of the bed. Charlie could take whichever side he wanted.

Charlie stumbled out of the bathroom a minute later and shut off the light. I felt him at the foot of the bed before he crawled right in the center and flopped down on us on his stomach, with his arms around us.

"Charlie?" I groaned.

Nothing. Passed out.

"This would be pretty erotic if we weren't drunk," Michael chuckled as he pulled out from under Charlie and moved over beside me.

"Sure. Nothing more erotic than a naked Brit passed out drunk on you," I smirked sleepily.

"Better roll him on his side so he doesn't suffocate."

I pulled out from under Charlie and rolled him so he was facing away from us -- just in case he got sick. I snuggled up to him and Michael snuggled up to me.

*** [ Sat, Sept 29 ]

When I woke, Charlie was facing me and wrapped around me -- his head against my chest and our legs entwined. Michael was wrapped around me from the back and holding us both. The sun was way too bright and I had a slight headache. I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep. A few minutes later, Charlie groaned -- and not a groan of pleasure.

"Fuck," Charlie mumbled and rubbed his head against my chest.

"Feeling like roadkill?" I mumbled.

"I'd feel better if I was roadkill," Charlie groaned. "What time is it?"

I squinted at the clock.

"7:30."

"Good. I can sleep a little longer," he said and lay his head back against my chest. A few minutes later he started chuckling and wiggled his piss hard-on against my leg. Mine was against his chest.

"Happy to see me?" Charlie chuckled and looked up at me.

"If you count having to take a piss as happy," I smirked and gave him a sloppy kiss on the forehead.

"How about now?" Charlie said and licked my nipple.

Michael smacked his hand down on Charlie's bare butt. "Stop molesting my man," Michael mumbled.

Charlie gave my nipple another lick before pulling away from us. "Okay," he grinned, and then frowned as he sat up. "I've gotta stop drinking Vodka," he groaned.

"Does your butt hurt?" Michael asked.

"It's about the only thing that doesn't. Why?"

"Oh nothing," I said innocently, catching on to what Michael was going to say.

"See. I told you he'd never notice," Michael grinned.

"No riddles this early," Charlie said.

"Well, after you passed out on us...we just... Well, you were naked and on your stomach, and you've got such a nice ass that we couldn't pass it up," Michael explained.

"A couple times each," I added with a grin.

"Okay. I understand how my ass is too nice to pass up. We'll try it the other way around tonight," Charlie grinned and stumbled off to the bathroom.

"Oh my god! What the hell is that!?" I laughed as I walked into the living room. Now that it was light out I could see a seven foot wooden phallus standing in the corner, behind the door.

Michael ran into the room to see what I was laughing at and promptly burst into laughter.

"Charlie? I never realized you were so vain...or so huge," Michael howled.

"What?" Charlie asked as he walked from the bathroom. "Oh, that. J's revenge. Had it delivered to me on set," he said with a tired grin.

"Must have been an interesting day on the set," Michael said.

"Yea, it was. Even more interesting driving down the highway with it in the back seat and the top down so it would fit."

I started laughing harder.

"Yea, he got me pretty good. It'll take me a while to think of something to top it," Charlie grinned.

"You'd be hard pressed to even find a bottom for that thing," Michael laughed.

"Hard pressed?" Charlie smirked.

"Do they make them even larger?" I asked.

"I have no idea. I don't even know where he got this one."

"It looks like one of those phalluses from Japan. I saw some show on it. They have a fertility festival and carry these huge phalluses through the streets, and have shrines with a big phallus at the altar," Michael said.

"Any ideas so far?" I asked Charlie.

"None that are practical."

"What about impractical?"

"Have you ever seen that pasta that is shaped like cocks?"

"Huh?"

"It's a novelty thing. About the size of macaroni. Anyway, I'd love to be able to arrange it so that when he ordered a pasta dish at a restaurant, he'd get a plate of those," Charlie smiled.

"That would be hilarious," I laughed.

"In a red sauce? Ugh. Bloody, severed dicks," Michael shuddered.

"Hadn't thought about that, but it works. Could be a white sauce, as well."

"That's too good to just give up on. Try to get Chris to help. I'm sure he'd do all he could."

"Thanks. Maybe I will," Charlie smiled and started making a pot of coffee. "What time will you guys be in tonight?"

"Late. We'll probably go out after the premier," Michael answered.

"Okay. I don't have any extra keys yet, so just beat on the door when you get back. Well, you'd better call first, too."

"You working all day?" I asked.

"Yea. Filming today, so who knows how long it'll take."

"Having trouble with your lines," Michael teased Charlie.

"No. There are quite a few other people in the cast. Today is a lot of group scenes. You know how it goes. Once you start laughing at something..."

"No one can stop," Michael continued.

"Yep."

"When we get there, can we be real casual?" Michael asked me as we were riding to the theater in a limo.

"I don't understand."

"No hand holding or kissing or anything like that."

"Oh. Sorry," I said and let go of his hand.

Michael sighed and grabbed my hand again. "Not until we get there."

"I thought you said you didn't care."

"I don't, but... But if we're being ourselves, it'll seem like we're making a statement. We're not and I don't want to. I just want to be with you."

"Why is it making a statement? Couples come to these things."

"Don't be dense. You know it would be taken as a statement just because we're both guys."

"So what?"

"Do you want to be known as 'Michael Pitt's boyfriend'? Or have all the gay rags trying to get interviews all the time and people following us?"

"Oh, I see. You're afraid you'll be known as 'Jonah Mars' boyfriend'," I teased. I could see his point. I hated that I saw it, but I could.

"I prefer 'boy-toy'," Michael smirked. "So you're okay?"

"Not happy, but I understand, damn it," I said and gave him a quick kiss.

"At the after-party we can just be ourselves."

"So how are you going to introduce me if someone asks?"

"At the theater?"

"Yea."

"Um, as my best friend and roommate."

"It's not lying."

"Nope. Just selective truth. It's none of their business, anyway."

The limo stopped in front of a hotel.

"What are we doing here?" I asked.

"Picking up some other people. You didn't think this huge limo was just for us, did you?" Michael teased.

"I was hoping. Then we could have some limo sex on the way home."

"Maybe we'll get dropped off last..."

The door opened and a couple people climbed in. Brad Renfro was the only person I recognized. They all said hi to Michael as they climbed in. Dates were introduced. Michael introduced me as his boyfriend.

"That's pretty ballsy of you, Michael. Bringing your boyfriend," Brad said.

"I think it's great," Rachel said.

"He's just a friend to the public. Okay?" Michael asked.

"No problem, man."

We got to the theater, which was crawling with the fanfare appropriate to a premier. As soon as the door opened flashes were going off. Some of the other people stopped for photos, but Michael just smiled and headed inside.

"I hate this part," Michael grumbled under his breath.

"Promotion?"

"Yea, and all the fake glitz. Smile pretty for the camera," he mocked softly. "Let's go find a seat."

"So?" Michael asked me as the end credits were rolling.

"Not bad, though I could have done without the scene of that girl riding you."

"Yea, there were quite a few scenes like that that were added to give it more appeal. You know the screenwriter quit and forced his name to be removed from it because it's really not anything close to what he wrote. A lot more sex."

"The 'work' instead of 'art'?"

"Yep."

"It'll be good exposure, though. You really stand out, and you don't have a lead role."

"You're biased," he smiled.

I shrugged. "I can be objective. Of all the supporting roles, I think your character stands out the most."

"That's just because he's such a sweetheart," Bijou said, who was sitting next to us.

"I am not a sweetheart," Michael protested.

"Yes you are," all of the cast members in hearing distance countered, and then busted up laughing.

"A little help?" Michael prodded me.

"He's not a sweetheart. He's a total twat. In fact, if he didn't give such good..." I started to protest on Michael's behalf, but he cut me off with his hand across my mouth.

"Give good what?" Nick asked.

"Backrubs," I got out after pulling Michael's hand away, and then smiled at him.

"Think you're smart, don't you?" Michael said.

"Yep."

"You coming to the party?" Rachel asked.

"We'll be there," Michael answered.

"Good. Let's get the fuck outta here," Brad said.

I'd really like to say it was a great party, but it wasn't. It was okay, but not really what I expected for my first "Hollywood Party". Lots of people. Lots of people trying to impress and/or get laid. Lots of drugs. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but this wasn't it. We left after a couple hours -- which was as soon as we could go without seeming snobbish by leaving too early.

"Now you understand some of why I hate this part," Michael said as we were riding home in a cab. We'd have to wait for everyone else if we wanted to take the limo.

"Yea. I won't be upset if you don't ask me to another one."

"Nice try. If I have to go, then I'm gonna bring you."

"Thanks," I said sarcastically.

"You're welcome. I'm gonna call Charlie and let him know we're on the way."

We rang the doorbell a few times until Charlie opened the door.

"I'm coming," Charlie grunted as he opened the door, naked.

"Nice way to answer the door," I teased and gave him a smack on the butt.

"Piss off," he grunted and padded back to bed.

"Oh well. Time for bed," Michael said and closed the door.

We cleaned up in the bathroom and set the alarm before climbing into bed. Charlie was sprawled across the middle.

"Move over, man," I said and pushed him towards a side. Michael got in and I wrapped my arms around him.

"Love you. Night," I said and kissed the back of his neck.

"Love you," Michael said softly.

I was asleep in minutes.

*** [ Sunday ]

The alarm went off at 4AM. Charlie slapped it and then shoved me.

"Get up."

I groaned and stretched before shaking Michael awake. We were all sleepwalking as we got ready and went to the airport. We said our good-byes and checked in. Because of the ungodly hour, it didn't take very long. We ate something for breakfast while waiting for the plane, and slept the whole way back to New York.

"We should probably stop by the grocery. I don't think we have anything for lunch," I said as we were riding the train home from the airport.

"When is that guy coming over?"

I looked at my watch. "In about an hour."

"What was his name?"

"Scott McManis."

"Okay. I'm gonna need some coffee. Time is all screwed up again."

I buzzed Scott in and opened the door. He walked in a minute later.

"Hey, Jonah."

"Hey. Find it okay?"

"Yep. No problem. Cool. I like the place," he smiled as he looked around. "Which would be my room?"

"Right there," I said and pointed to the open door. "But you can check it out after lunch. Come on in to the kitchen."

"Okay," he said and followed me in.

"Hey, Scott," Michael said and set down the spatula to shake his hand. "I'm Michael."

"Hey. How's it..." Scott trailed off. "You're Jonah's boyfriend? You were in 'Hedwig and the Angry Inch'."

"Yep, on all accounts," Michael smirked.

"Now some of Jonah's weird questions make sense."

"That would be a first," Michael teased me and handed Scott a plate with his grilled cheese sandwich on it.

"Hey. My questions always make sense. It's just that the reasoning behind them isn't always apparent."

"Or reasonable," Michael added stuck his tongue out at me.

"As if you're the master of reason."

"Nope. Just of bater."

"You'll notice that Michael never does comedies -- for obvious reasons," I said to Scott, and then gave Michael a look.

"What can I say? Some people are funnier looking than I am."

"Are you guys always like this?" Scott asked with a slight grin.

"Like what?"

"Like this. Tossing jokes back and forth."

"Not always."

"Yea. Sometimes we toss other things," Michael laughed.

"Thanks for sharing," Scott groaned.

"So tell me why you want to live here, why we should want you to live here, and where you see yourself in five years," Michael said.

"Where I see myself in five years?" Scott questioned.

"Oh, sorry. Standard interview question. The other two are fine."

"Okay. Well, reasons I want to live here... 1-20, I hate the dorms and everything about them, including my roommate. 21, Jonah has been a good slave driver and is pretty well respected in the department. Um, the apartment, itself, seems nice. Cozy. I can afford it..."

"How are you paying for everything? Working or parents?" I interrupted.

"Both, but I don't need to work during the semester. My dad is pretty well off. Owns the Ford dealership in 'Busco. I won't have any problems paying rent."

"Okay. Now why should we want you to live here?" Michael asked.

"Um, I'll pay rent on time. I try to be considerate. I'm not a slob. Um...I'm a good cook."

"What about having people over?" I asked and took my plate from Michael. "Thanks."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, lots of people? A few friends? Anyone who happens to be there?"

"So you're asking if I plan on having large parties?"

"Sure."

"Haven't yet. It's easier to just go out, anyway. You don't have to clean up."

"What drugs do you do?" Michael asked.

"None regularly. I've smoked pot, but I'm not a regular. Not allowed?"

"If it's just weed for yourself and you're discrete about it, I don't care. No smoking in the apartment -- tobacco, either."

"We usually go out on the fire escape if we want a smoke," Michael added.

"Doesn't matter. I don't smoke."

"Yet," I smiled.

"Never."

"Maybe. I bet you'll be having the occasional cigarette by the end of your sophomore year."

"I doubt it."

"Anyway, for obvious reasons, we have to be more selective about who we have living with us. Gay being one reason. The whole celebrity crap being the second," Michael started.

"Celebrity crap?" Scott interrupted.

"Yea. Crap," Michael said and finally sat down with his sandwich.

"I already explained that we're friends with a lot of people in the business and the whole slack-jawed, wide-eyed thing that gets really old really quickly," I said.

"Exactly. We don't want to worry about who we bring home or what we say, etc. It's a matter of trust and respect -- something our last roommate forgot," Michael added.

"Okay. I can understand that, as long as it works both ways."

"Of course."

"What about summer? Are you staying in the city or going back home?" I asked.

"Haven't really thought about it too much. I'd love to just get a job in the city. If I go back to 'Busco I'll end up working at the dealership and probably doing horrible community theatre."

I gave an exaggerated shudder. "Ugh. Community theatre."

"I agree. I didn't think it was that bad, but just with what I've done and seen so far here, it totally blows it away. It's a completely different level," Scott said.

"Any questions for us?" Michael asked.

"Um...I don't think so. You've answered a lot in the questions you've asked. So what's the process now? When will I know?"

"How soon would you want to move in, if that's what we decide?" I asked.

"As soon as possible."

"Okay. Why don't you check out the room while we talk?" I suggested.

"Okay," Scott said and left.

"So?" I asked Michael.

"He seems very repressed."

"Like dangerously repressed?"

"No. Just like he doesn't let go very often, if at all. He looks like he'd be a total smart-ass, but... Anyway, we're not going to be his therapist. I think he seems okay. Kinda hard to tell with just one meeting. You know him better than I do."

"Just from working with him. Obviously, I would have told him no if I thought he was an asshole."

"How about we offer a short term lease? Like 'till the end of the semester. If everything is cool, then extend it for the next semester."

"And through the summer."

"What if he's not staying the summer?"

"Then he'll still pay rent, or forfeit his right to have it next year. Otherwise we have to try to find someone for just the summer."

"Okay. That works for me. Wanna tell him now, or make him sweat a little," Michael smiled.

"When he comes back in. I've got stuff to get done," I said and started cleaning up.

Scott knocked on the door and poked his head in. "Safe to come back?"

"Come on in," Michael said.

"I'd have to get my own furniture, right?"

"Yep."

"So? Any decision?"

"If it's okay with you, we'd like to have a trial period. Lease through the end of the semester. If everything is cool, then extended that through the summer," I said.

"What if I go home for the summer?"

"Then you continue to pay rent, or lose it. I want someone who'll live here longer term, and I don't want to try to find someone for just the summer."

"Okay. So until the end of the semester, and then a full lease after that?"

"Yep. If everything works out."

"It gives us a chance to get to know you, and you a chance to get to know us," Michael explained.

"I'll have to be on my best behavior until next semester," Scott smiled.

"I can still kick you out after that," I countered.

"Okay. Well. Cool. I'll take it."

"As if there was any question," Michael smirked.

"When are you planning on moving in?" I asked.

"Today?"

"Sure. You can move in today, if you want. Deposit is one month's rent. Due when you move in. Rent's due first of the month. There's only one more day in this month, so I'm not gonna worry about pro-rating."

"Um, okay. Let me go get a load of stuff and I'll be back with the deposit and first month," Scott said happily.

"What about your dorm contract?"

"I'll try to cancel it, but I don't know if I can in the middle of the semester."

"Try to keep your meal plan, if you can, or switch it to the Meals per Week plan."

"Why?"

"Because you're gonna be on campus for most meals. It's cheaper and easier to just keep your meal plan and eat there," I explained.

"What do you do?"

"Past years I had it for two a day. This year I have just one a day because my schedule is different."

"Okay. I'll think about it when I'm haggling with them. So, uh, I'm gonna go get some stuff. Thanks," Scott smiled and left.

"We sure made someone's day," Michael laughed.

"Ours, too, since we don't have to worry about finding someone anymore."

"So what do you have to do today?"

"Homework and work paperwork. You?"

"Just relaxing."

"Good. Let's go see 'Hedwig' tonight."

"Why?"

"Because I'm tired of everyone having seen the movies you've been in but me. The only one I've seen you in is 'Bully'."

"We could also rent QAF and see Charlie."

"Don't want to go watch yourself?"

"Yea, but it's more like I don't want to get mobbed or harassed. I'm kinda distinctive looking. I don't think I could sneak into the theater very easily without looking suspicious and being arrested. Maybe if we saw a matinee during the week when there are fewer people, or just wait for the DVD -- I think it's supposed to be out in the next month or so, anyway."

"Are you getting more of that?"

"Harassed?"

"Yea."

"Yea. I'm getting recognized at least once a day now. They've all been polite about it so far, but..."

"Why push it?"

"Exactly."

"Okay. So can you go get QAF while I do homework?"

"Yea. Any nude modeling for your photography class yet?" Michael smiled.

"Nope. Everything is supposed to be captured moments, not poses. If I get you, it'll be when you aren't prepared. Besides, if someone wants to see you naked they can spend $9 and see it on screen. I'm not givin' it away," I smirked.

Scott got back about an hour later with two huge duffel bags. Michael was still gone, so I buzzed him in.

"Hey," Scott sighed and trudged to his room. He emerged a minute later with a check. "Okay. Ready to sign."

"What?" I asked, distracted because I was trying to write a paper.

"Lease?"

"Oh, okay. Let me shift gears," I said and took the check from him. The amount was right, so I handed him the keys. "Welcome home," I smiled and turned back to my PowerBook.

"No lease to sign?"

"Nope," I said and turned back to him. "We have a gentleman's agreement. If we can't trust each other for that, then we shouldn't be living together."

"What about the landlord? Won't they need to have my name on the lease?"

"I am the landlord, and I don't care. You know what's expected. When rent's due, etc."

"Oh. Okay. That's very trusting."

I shrugged. "Like I said, if it turns out I can't trust you, I'll ask you to leave. If you can't trust me, then you shouldn't want to live here."

"Did anyone ever tell you you're weird?" Scott smirked.

"More times than I can remember. As for this weirdness, we're living together. If I was just renting you an apartment, then I'd want a lease for all the legal reasons. With this we'll be part of each other's lives. A contract for that seems...fake."

"Okay. I understand. It's just different. So what about all the house rules and stuff?"

"You're to be in bed by ten on a school night," I teased.

"Real funny," Scott groaned.

"Not too bad. Anyway, rules... Obviously, be considerate of other people. I think that covers the loud music or parties and such. Stay out of our room unless invited. We'll do the same. If you make a mess, you clean it up. Food is pretty much shared. Replace what you use. If you have something special, put a note on it. Pretty basic. I guess the only different thing that I'd ask is that you're careful about who you bring home if Michael or one of our more famous friends are around. And don't talk about living with so-and-so, and so on. That gets back to the celebrity crap thing."

"Sounds like you have to be paranoid."

"No, just use discretion. I don't worry about it for the most part. In fact, Charlie chastised me for not worrying about it more."

"Charlie?"

"Oh, sorry. Forgot you don't know anyone yet. Charlie is a friend who was in the play I directed this past summer, and was staying here. We met his doppelganger and... Well, long story short, it was safe, but I did some research to verify Randy was who he said."

"Um, okay. You're speaking in riddles. I don't know who these people are or why Randy would be Charlie's doppelganger."

"Oh, okay. Basics. Charlie Hunnam. Big break in the biz was in a UK TV series called 'Queer as Folk.' We're finally going to watch it tonight. It was supposed to have been really ground-breaking. ShowTime is doing an American version and made it a longer series. Randy Harrison plays the same character in the ShowTime version that Charlie played in the Ch4 UK version. Make sense now?"

"So they basically play the same role in two different versions of the show?"

"Basically."

"Gotcha."

"So what was I explaining?"

"Um...paranoia."

"That's right. I'm not paranoid enough. Anyway, I think the point was just to use discretion. Don't tell anything you wouldn't want to be public knowledge."

"All these people live in New York?"

"None of them, actually. Charlie just moved to LA. His series should be starting up soon. 'Undeclared', I think. We stayed with him when we were there for a premier of one of Michael's movies this weekend. Randy's pretty much living in Toronto where they're shooting QAF. We're going up there on the weekend of the twelfth next month. Wanna be on TV?" I smiled.

"Doing what?"

"Being a freak," I smiled.

"Uh, okay. Why?"

"Hang out. Be in a crowd scene in ShowTime's QAF. They're shooting the second season, so it's pretty popular, but, like everything else, I haven't seen it."

"I don't know," Scott said hesitantly.

"You should do it, if nothing else then to see a TV show in production."

"Yea, but I don't know if I want to be on a gay TV show. What if someone I know sees it?"

"Well, if they were watching it, it would probably mean they were gay, or at least gay friendly. Beyond that, we're gonna be in a crowd scene, not staring roles with close-ups."

"I'll think about it."

"Okay. Just let me know soon so I can let Randy know how many to expect. We're leaving that Thursday evening."

"What about classes on Friday?"

"Do you have any tests?"

"I'll have to check. I don't think so."

"Then skip them. It's only one day."

"I'll think about it."

"Okay. How much more are you going to bring over today?"

"As much as I can. I don't have that much."

"Then you'd better get going. It's gonna be dark soon."

"Everything I have left is box stuff. It's gonna take forever."

"I'd let you use my car, but you'd have to park so far away on both sides that it would probably make it harder. The dorms should have a two-wheel cart you can check out. It'll be a challenge to get it up and down the subway stairs, though."

"I'll think of something. As long as the basics get here, I can take my time with everything else. Okay. I'd better get going. Later," Scott sighed and got up to leave as Michael was walking in.

"Got it," Michael announced as he walked in. "Oh, hey, Scott. All moved?"

"Hey. Nope. Still have a couple trips."

"Need a hand?"

"Uh, sure. That'd be great. Thanks."

"No prob.," Michael smiled and handed me the movie as he leaned over the sofa and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Is it okay to take your car?"

"Yea, but parking anywhere close will be a problem."

"I'll just drive around the block."

"Okay. I think I left the keys on the dresser."

I was done with my paper and reading when they got back about two hours later. They carried in four medium sized boxes, and that was it. Scott stayed in his room to unpack and Michael started dinner.

Scott joined us for dinner and then we watched QAF. Michael went to bed after the first disc, and I went to bed after the second. I thought it was horribly unbelievable, but fun. I'll definitely have to tease Charlie about kissing that old man.

*** [ Sat, Oct 6]

The phone rang and Scott grabbed it.

"Hello."

I could hear someone yelling and Scott held the phone away.

"Um, do you want to speak to Jonah or Michael?" Scott said hesitantly, and then smiled and handed me the phone. "It's some pissed-off and embarrassed guy named Justin."

"What's up, Justin?" I answered.

"Oh my god. Who was that? I just made a total ass of myself," Justin groaned.

"That's Scott, our new roommate. He just moved in last week. What were you attacking him for?" I teased.

"I thought it was you or Michael. I heard you guys did the group thing without me. What the fuck is up with that? You promised you wouldn't."

I walked to my room for some privacy and closed the door. "Where did you hear that?"

"Duh! Lance told me when he told why he was mad at Danny and why Danny moved out."

"He just told you?"

"Last night."

"Have you talked to Charlie yet?"

"I left a message. It's probably too early there. So?"

"You two are no longer a couple, and the timing was right. Nothing more or less."

"Yea, but it was supposed to be all of us."

"Fine, Justin. Next time we see you we'll fuck you 'till you can't walk. Will that make you feel better?" I sighed.

"Fuck you. I'm just pissed that I got left out. I wanted to do it, too."

"Well, things didn't work out as planned all the way around. Be glad you didn't or Danny would have had you on video as well."

"Oh... So it wasn't very good?"

"Huh?"

"Was it good?"

"Truth?"

"Yea."

"It was great. It was fun. It's also been a headache afterwards."

"Just because of Danny."

"Isn't that enough?"

"I guess."

"How's Lance with him?"

"Hurt and pissed off. I don't think they're gonna break up, even though I think they should."

"Did you tell him you were originally supposed to be part of it?"

"Hell no. Don't you tell him, either."

"I wasn't planning on it."

"So tell me about it."

"What?"

"Tell me about what you guys did."

"No way. Do you think I want to listen to you jack-off on the phone?"

"Fine. I'll ask Charlie," Justin sighed.

"He may not want to hear you, either. He's got a woman now, or at least one he has his eye on. I don't know if they've had a date yet."

"Yea, I know. They were going out last night. He's totally stuck on her."

"Good. I'm glad she went out with him. He was kinda worried she wouldn't."

"I know. He was nervous as hell when we talked yesterday."

"Anyone in your sights?"

"No...unless you consider some stalker."

"Anyone in particular, or just the usuals."

"No, this one is special. Got her name changed to Timberlake. Broke into my house and was living there."

"Freaky. When did this happen?"

"Last week. Good thing I'm on the road."

"Definitely. Did they catch her?"

"Yea, but then they let her go on bail. She skipped. Who knows where the psycho is now."

"Probably coming after you," I teased.

"Don't even joke about that shit. We've already increased security. I swear, as soon as contracts are fulfilled, I'm gonna disappear. Maybe change my name and my look and get a big house with a moat full of alligators," Justin said.

"You love the attention too much to do that. Maybe you should just start a Justin Timberlake Foundation for Stalkers."

"A mental hospital... Hmm. That's an idea," Justin said seriously, and then laughed.

"You'll have girls lined up for miles."

"Probably. Anyway, how's everything there?"

"Good now. New roommate. Classes are busy and I'm TDing two studio theaters, so I've got people calling me all the time and I'm spending as much time managing people as doing stuff."

"Yea. I wouldn't want to be a manager. What about your new roommate?"

"Scott. He's a freshman."

"Theatre major?"

"Yep. Scenic design."

"Cool?"

"So far. He's only lived here a week."

"You didn't know him before?"

"He's on my crew. I only knew him from working with him."

"Okay. You're still planning on being in Chicago for Thanksgiving, right?"

"Yea. How did you know?"

"Jonny told me."

"You've been keeping in touch?"

"I get an email every so often, and send as many back."

"Good."

"Yea. He seems to be doing good. Guess what?"

"What?"

"We're going to be in Chicago the week of Thanksgiving."

"Good. Maybe we can hook up after your show."

"Even better. You're gonna bring Jonny to the show," Justin said with an obvious grin.

"Why?"

"Well, we promised him a ticket when we were there. It won't hurt too bad for you guys to watch one of our shows."

"I'll talk with Michael about it. If we do, you'll probably want to include a few more tickets so Jonny can bring someone."

"No problem. As many as he needs -- within reason. So you're gonna come."

"Eventually, but not while I'm talking to you," I smirked.

"Wha? Eww. Yuck. To the show. Come to the show."

"I said I'll talk with Michael about it. I don't want to commit him to torture without his input."

"Fuck you, too."

"You're welcome."

"Okay. Well, I gotta go. Call me or Lance when you decide about coming to the show."

"I will."

"Okay. Later."

"Bye," I said and hung up.

"So who was that? He sounded really pissed off." Scott asked as I came back into the living room.

"Justin. He'll get over it. He's just a bit high strung sometimes."

"Who's Justin?"

"Timberlake. 'NSYNC."

"Really?"

"Yea. Don't tell me you're a fan," I teased.

"They're okay. Their new album is pretty cool."

"If you say so."

"You're friends with him, but don't like his music?"

"Yep. Yes, I know it's weird."

"Okay. Just so you know."

The phone started ringing again. "I think I'll get it this time," I said and answered.

"Jonah?"

"This is."

"Hey, man. It's Randy."

"Hey. What's up?"

"Just calling to confirm next week."

"We'll be there."

"What about your new roommate?"

"I don't know. Just a sec. and I'll ask," I said and covered the phone. "Scott. Have you made a decision on whether you're going to Toronto with us next week?"

"Um, yea. I guess so."

I got back on the phone. "Yea, he'll be coming, too." We talked a few more minutes, sorting out details, and hung up.

"Is this going to be just like the British one we watched?" Scott asked me.

"I don't know. I haven't seen it. Probably similar."

Since it seemed to be a phone call day, I decided to call Jonny to talk and let him know we can't make it to his show. Uncle Joe answered.

"Hey, Jonah. How're classes going?"

"Busy, as always. More responsibility at work, so much busier there as well."

"It's better than sitting on your ass."

"Yea, I know. I'm not complaining about it. Is Jonny there?"

"Nope. He's at school working on the set. Want me to have him call?"

"Yea, if you would, please. Anything interesting happening there?"

"Nothing to write home about. The kids are doing well. Jonny is starting to get more comfortable. Even calls me Uncle Joe sometimes, now."

"And how is Jay getting along with him?"

"Just like brothers."

"So arguing all the time."

"Yep. Oh yea, I want to thank you for the wonderful CDs you got Jay for his birthday. He's still playing the damn things all the time," Uncle Joe said sarcastically.

"Good. What's the problem? Those are good CDs. Perfect for him. The Dead Milkmen and They Might Be Giants."

"The problem is that everyone else in the house is burned out on them after hearing them a couple times a day for the past month-and-a-half."

"Just get him a pair of headphones."

"He has some. Then we just hear him screaming along with them. I love him, but he's not a singer."

"Doesn't really matter much with The Dead Milkmen."

"Yes, I'm well aware of that."

"Think of it this way, it could be worse. He could be listening to gangsta rap or death metal."

"Don't give him any ideas."

We talked a few more minutes and then hung up.

*** [ Thurs, Oct 11 ]

We got to Randy's apartment around midnight. He was on set and wouldn't be home until 3AM. Fortunately, he left the key under the mat and gave me the security code to get in. It was very Spartan, but nice. There was a note just inside the door that told us to make ourselves at home, don't worry about waiting up, and the sofa opened into a bed.

"You want to go out and get something to eat?" Michael asked after we'd dropped our stuff.

"Yea, except I didn't see anything open around here."

"Does anyone have any Canadian money?" Scott asked.

"Oh, yea. We'll just have to use a credit card," I answered.

"Let's just try to order a pizza," Michael said and grabbed the phone book to find a place.

Michael was asleep next to me on the sofa-bed. Scott was lounged in a chair and he and I were watching bad late-night TV when Randy got home.

"Hey. You're still up. What time did you get here?" Randy asked.

"A little after midnight," I said. "How was shooting?"

"Hot and sweaty," Randy smirked and rolled his eyes. "Oh, hi. You must be Scott," he said as he noticed a third person and walked over to him. "I'm Randy."

Scott's eyes, which were barely awake slits before, were now wide open. "Hi. I'm Scott," he said as he shook Randy's hand.

"I know," Randy smiled.

"Doh. That's right. Um, sorry. Barely awake," Scott stuttered.

"That's alright. Well, not to be anti-social, but I stink and need to take a shower. Night, guys. See you in the morning," Randy said and went to his bedroom.

"Night," I called out. "Like what you saw, Scott?" I teased.

"What?"

"Randy. Your eyes just about left your head."

"They did not. I was just trying to wake up," he protested uncomfortably.

"Okay," I chuckled. "Well, I'm going to sleep now," I said and stripped down to my boxers before cuddling up to Michael. "Night."

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" Scott asked softly.

"Huh?" I asked and rolled back to look at him.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?"

"Wherever you want. I'd suggest the bed."

"You guys have the bed."

"Yea, and it's a queen size bed. Plenty of room. No one is going to molest you in your sleep, but sleep where you want," I said and rolled back against Michael.

*** [ Friday ]

I woke up to the smell of coffee and Randy humming to himself in the kitchen. Michael was gone and Scott was asleep in the chair. I rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom just as Michael was coming out.

"Morning," he smiled and gave me a quick kiss.

"Morning." I did my business and joined Michael and Randy in the kitchen. Michael handed me a cup of coffee. "Thanks."

"Sleep okay?" Randy asked.

"Like a log," Michael said.

"I don't think Scott is going to say the same thing," I smirked.

"Why didn't he just get in bed?" Michael asked me.

"Who knows. Probably afraid to sleep with a couple gay guys."

"So he's not gay?" Randy asked.

"The jury's still out. We think so, but deep closet," Michael said.

"I think how excited he got when you walked in the door says a lot -- and it's not because he's seen the show," I said.

"That was excited? I didn't notice. Of course, it was also after 3AM," Randy said.

"He was barely awake before you walked in, but wide eyed after."

"Not that it's any of my business, but have either of you slept with anyone else? I mean, are you strictly monogamous, or is it an open thing?"

"Why? You interested?" Michael teased.

"Noooo. Just asking. It's kinda one of the themes the show deals with. Scott sleeping in the same bed with you made me think of it. It's kind of an informal survey I'm taking."

"What's the status so far?" I asked.

"About 50/50."

"And they just admitted that to you?"

"The ones that were open. Obviously if someone had an affair they weren't going to say so in front of their partner. So?"

"We're monogamous. Mostly," Michael said.

"You can't be mostly monogamous."

"We had a three-way once," I said.

"Really?"

"Yea. Our understanding is that if we ever want to do something with someone else then both of us have to agree and be there," Michael explained.

"So you only have three-ways?" Randy smiled.

"Once. Yep," I said.

"Cool. That's one I haven't heard before. How'd you come up with that?"

"Well, we talked about wanting to try group sex and who we'd want to do. It just went from there," Michael said.

"But we have to know and trust the person. Not just a spur-of-the-moment fuck," I added.

"So who was the lucky guy?" Randy smiled.

"Not telling," I smiled back.

"Our lips are sealed," Michael added.

"Oh well. I tried. I probably don't know him, anyway," Randy sighed.

"Probably. So what's the schedule?" I asked.

"Be on set by noon. Probably start filming by two."

I looked at the clock on the stove. It was ten. "What process do we have to go through to be on set?"

"Morning," Scott mumbled and went to the bathroom.

"You'll just have to sign a release and so forth. I already put you on the list as my guests."

"Is there going to be a lot of standing around?" I asked.

"Of course," Michael and Randy said at the same time, and then laughed.

Scott stumbled out of the bathroom stiffly and dropped down in a chair at the table.

"There's coffee made," I said.

"Huh? Oh. Okay," Scott mumbled and got up to get a cup.

"Not much of a morning person, huh?" Randy smirked.

Scott sat down, nursing his coffee. I think we all noticed him checking out Randy's chest. All of us were still in our boxers, except Scott, who was in his clothes from last night.

"So you're a nudist, too?" Scott asked Randy.

"Huh?"

"He thinks we're nudists because we walk around in our boxers," Michael explained.

"No I don't. I said that when you were naked in the kitchen and making coffee," Scott countered.

"We're gonna get you to relax if it kills you," I teased.

"You just want to see my ass," Scott countered with a grin.

"Spoken with the ego of a heterosexual -- thinking every gay man wants him," Michael laughed. "Think again."

"Besides, I've seen everyone here naked except for you," Randy smiled at Scott.

"And a large portion of the gay population has seen Randy naked -- except for us," I added.

"Now why is that? Seems kinda unfair," Michael said to Randy.

"Hey. You gotta watch the show."

"I'll wait until it comes out on DVD."

"First of the year, supposedly."

"Then you can send us an autographed copy."

"As soon as you send me a copy of 'Jack Shine'," Randy smiled.

"Wanking material?" I teased.

Randy shrugged with a grin. "So you're starting another film next week?" He asked Michael.

"Yea. In Oregon. It'll be done by Thanksgiving."

"And then?"

"A couple weeks off and then I'm doing a play."

"You really are a masochist."

"I know, but I get bored if I'm not doing something -- especially when Jonah is in classes."

"I can understand that. Well, we'd better start getting ready. Who wants the shower first?" Randy said.

"We'll take it," I said and stood up, pulling Michael with me.

"Think we're giving Scott a push in the accepting direction?" Michael asked as we got in the shower.

"With doing the show, or with Randy?"

"Either."

"I don't know enough about the show to say, but I think he's definitely attracted to Randy."

"I think they'd make a cute couple. Salt and pepper."

"Randy hasn't even hinted that he's interested."

"Yea, but they just met."

"Why didn't you tell me we had to dance around in g-strings for this?" Scott demanded as I walked out of the bathroom.

"Huh?"

"Randy says we have to dance around in g-strings."

I looked to Randy. He smiled and winked.

"Oh, yea. That. Sorry. Forgot," I played along.

"You forgot? How the hell could you forget something like that?!"

"Jeez. Chill out, man."

"How am I supposed to chill out? I have to dance around in a g-string?!" Scott continued.

"Guess we're finally gonna see your ass after all, huh?" Michael teased and went to get dressed.

"Just don't do it, then. We'll drop you off in the city or you can stay here."

"Can't. You're already contracted to do it. Breech of contract is something they sue for," Randy said.

Scott looked to me for an answer.

"I guess we're gonna see your ass," I smiled and went to get dressed.

Scott grabbed his clothes and stormed into the bathroom.

"G-strings?" I asked Randy as he walked into the living room where we were getting dressed.

"Oh yea," Randy said seriously with a tight face, and then burst out laughing. "Oh man, it was hilarious. You should have seen him. He turned white when I said that. Totally white. He probably even pissed himself a little. He's a total closet case."

"You think so?" Michael asked.

"Totally."

"He's from a small town and a large family. Let's not tease him too much. Just gentle nudges," I said.

"I think this weekend is going to be more than a gentle nudge. Once we start the club scenes he's gonna have a permanent hard-on," Randy laughed.

"Probably why he's terrified of being in a g-string," Michael said.

After everyone was ready, Randy drove us to the studio. Scott was still tense and not talking to anyone. They were both in the front seat and Michael and I were in the back.

"You need to relax a little, man. It's gonna be long day," Randy said to him. "And you know how tension tends to shrink things. You don't want it sliding off, do you?"

"Trust me, THAT won't be a problem," Scott snapped.

"Really? I can't wait to see," Randy smiled.

"I didn't sign anything. How can I be held to a contract I didn't sign?" Scott reasoned. About time.

"I don't know. You'll have to check with your lawyer," Randy shrugged.

"Fuck," Scott sighed and slumped down.

We got to the studio and went to the cafeteria where the rest of the main cast met for brunch before every shoot, as Randy explained. We got our food and then joined everyone. We were the last ones there. I didn't recognize any of them. Randy introduced us as we sat down. Everyone was friendly and most of them commented on how much they enjoyed "Hedwig".

"God, I hope 'Hedwig' doesn't become my QAF," Michael whispered to me.

"It won't. You're doing tons of other stuff," I comforted.

We started eating and shooting the shit. Scott was quiet and barely eating.

"You don't look so well, Scott," Peter commented. "Are you feeling okay?"

"He's just nervous about the scene where everyone dances around in g-strings," Randy said, pointedly.

"The...oh yea," Peter smiled. "Don't worry, honey. Those scenes are easy," he said and patted Scott on the arm.

"Yea, but I really hate being all oiled up," Hal added.

"Oiled up?" Scott gulped.

"Yea, it makes it look better with all those bodies packed in tight," Gale explained.

"Tight?"

"He likes to think so," Randy teased Gale.

"You'll never know," Gale countered.

"They're just trying to make you nervous, honey. As soon as they bring out the dildos they're all as happy as a clam," Sharon comforted Scott.

They were good. Scott truly looked like he was about to puke. He just stared blankly at everyone. Everyone stared back at him.

"Are you getting the twelve inch or the eighteen inch dildo?" Hal asked Scott.

Scott's eyes got huge. It was too much. Everyone burst into laughter. Scott just stared, unsure.

"It's all a joke. No g-strings or oil or dildos," I whispered in Scott's ear.

"You suck! You totally suck!" Scott yelled at Randy.

"You're not telling us anything we don't already know," Peter smirked.

"Bitch," Randy smiled back.

"God, look in the dictionary under gullible. There I am," Scott groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"Excellence ensemble work," I said. "Nice touch with the twelve or eighteen inch dildos."

"Thank you," Hal and Sharon said.

"Hey. I gave the sizes," Hal protested.

"And I brought them into the story," Sharon countered.

"So much for ensemble," Gale shrugged.

"Now it's time for work," Russell, the director, said.

"Yes, boss," everyone droned.

Everyone got up and we walked over to the sound stage.

"The first couple hours today are in the cafŽ," Randy explained.

"How could you do that to me?" Scott asked me softly as we walked over.

"You did it to yourself. Besides, it was hilarious watching you get so worked up over it," I smiled.

"This is just because I don't walk around naked, isn't it?"

I shrugged. "Probably related."

"I said it as a joke, but your terror was too much fun to let it go," Randy said to Scott.

"Thanks. I'll be sure to get you back," Scott promised with a forced grin.

"Good luck," Randy smiled and continued his conversation with Gale.

The cafŽ shoot was remotely interesting -- trying to figure out the characters and story from the few bits of scene we were hearing. Mostly we just talked about normal crap, or pantomimed conversations when we had to be quiet. The set looked really good and I noticed Scott paying attention to all the details and break-aways for cameras. We broke around seven for dinner and all headed over to the cafeteria.

Randy explained what to expect for the club scenes and how everything worked. Apparently they shot it with music cutting in and out so they could record people talking. We would have to fake the music while still dancing.

As soon as we were done eating, Randy dragged us over to wardrobe for more appropriate clothing for the club scenes.

"Hi, Lynette. We need to get these guys something to look hot in for the club scenes. Can you help them out?" Randy said to an older woman as we walked into wardrobe.

"Easy," Lynette smiled and checked her costume plot. "Okay. Let's see those manly chests so I know what I have to work with."

We took off our shirts and she walked around us for a minute before disappearing amidst the clothing racks. A few minutes later she reappeared with a pile of clothes draped over her arm.

"Try these," she said and handed me a lycra muscle shirt and a pair of black leather pants. She handed Michael a cut-off T-shirt and red leather pants. "Show off that tattoo," she smiled and went to Scott. Lynette handed him a sheer button-down and a pair of ripped up jeans.

Michael and I started changing right there.

"You have a changing room?" Scott asked.

"Right here, sweetie. Don't be shy. I'll turn around if it makes you feel better," Lynette smiled and turned around.

"These aren't going to work," Michael said after he'd pulled up his pants. They were very low riding.

"I don't know. I kinda like them," I smiled.

"What's the problem? You look good in them," Lynette said and walked over to us.

"The problem is I don't have any hips. The last time I wore pants like this I was standing still and they still slid down. If I sweat or move they'll be around my ankles."

"Okay. Let me try something else," Lynette sighed and went back into the racks.

"How do I look?" I asked as I got everything on.

Michael smiled broadly. "You look fuckin' hot."

"Yea. What he said," Randy agreed.

"These pants are too tight," Scott complained from the corner he was dressing in.

"What size waist are you?" Lynette called out.

"28."

"That's what I thought. They're not too tight. They're supposed to be that way," she said and reappeared. "Try these." She handed Michael a pair of faded jeans and a leather vest. "Okay, sweetie. Let's see," she said as she walked over to Scott.

"They're too tight," Scott protested.

"Well, you got them up. Turn around so I can see."

Scott sighed and turned around. I thought he looked good.

"You look delicious. What's the problem?" Lynette asked.

"They're really tight in the crotch."

We all, of course, looked to his crotch. You could see exactly how he was hanging, and he was pretty well hung. On his thin frame he looked very well hung.

"Sweetie, you've got nothing to be ashamed of there," Lynette smiled.

"I feel like a freak," Scott grumbled.

"You look great, Scott. Really," Randy said.

"Well, I supposed I can get you some a little looser. You don't have much room to grow in those without ripping them," Lynette said and disappeared.

"Thanks," Scott sighed and turned around to peel his pants off.

"This is better. I don't feel like I'm about to lose my pants," Michael said. "So?"

"You always look hot," I smiled.

Lynette reappeared with a new pair of jeans for Scott -- basically the same style, but in a larger size. He approved of these. We thanked Lynette and left for the sound stage.

"I've gotta go do my costume and makeup, so you can just wander around here. I'll put your street clothes in my dressing room. The other extras will be here pretty soon. See ya," Randy said and ran off.

"I did warn you that we were coming here to be freaks," I said to Scott, who still looked a bit uncomfortable.

"Yea. I just keep telling myself that this is good for me...in some weird way."

"So? You think Randy is a size queen?" Michael smiled.

"A what?" Scott asked.

I gave Michael a look, and then rolled my eyes. "Go ahead."

"He seemed really happy to see...how well you filled out the front of your pants," Michael teased.

"Yea, whatever. Now you know why I was worried about a g-string," Scott groaned.

"It wasn't that big."

"Can we not talk about my endowment? Please?" Scott said uncomfortably.

"No problem," Michael said.

We turned around as we heard a crowd of people entering the sound stage club. It was soon fags as far as the eye could see. What we were wearing was pretty tame compared to some people. Directions were being shouted and it was time to start.

Each scene was choreographed and then run a few times. To Scott's chagrin, he was singled out for one.

"You. What was your name again?" Russell called to Scott.

"Scott."

"Okay, Scott. Here's what I want you to do. Justin and Brian will be dancing right next to you. There'll be an argument. Brian will grab you and pull you between them. Just dance with them and give Justin that shy boyish look like you're giving me right now and say 'hi'. Brian will break away. Justin will push away from you and go after him soon after. Look hurt, but not crushed and go back to dancing. Got it? Any questions?"

"Um, no sir."

"Good. Let's walk this through," Russell yelled and they did a walk-though of the scene. As soon as they did a full rehearsal with music and dancing, I wondered if Randy hadn't asked for Scott to be used for that extra. Bump and grind and Scott in the middle. I wish I could have seen his face from where we were. Soon enough, though, the scene was shot and we moved on.

"You know what I like most about this?" Michael whispered in my ear as we danced to silence. "That I get to be with you on film," he continued and then kissed me. "We can be as faggy and humpy as we want, and it's okay."

"I knew you were an exhibitionist."

"No. I have to make out with other guys and girls that I'm not interested in. It's nice to have it be real once."

"I wonder if we'll make it on screen once it's edited. Someone will pick you out of the crowd and wonder who that freak you're dancing with is."

"MY freak, I'll tell them."

We'd lost track of Scott after his staring scene. When we finally quit for the night, at 2AM, everyone was exhausted. We followed Randy back to his dressing room and cleaned up, changing back into our regular clothes. After that we went out for a late dinner with most of the cast and some crew. We finally made it back to Randy's apartment around 5AM.

"We've got the shower first," I announced as we walked in the door.

"Yea, okay," Randy yawned and went to the kitchen. "Anyone want anything to drink?"

"Maybe when we get out," Michael said as he went into the bathroom.

We took a quick shower. Scott got in after us.

"I wonder if Scott's gonna try sleeping in the chair again tonight?" Michael asked me as we made up our bed.

"He's gonna sleep with me," Randy said sleepily.

"Excuse me?" I said.

"It's a queen size bed."

"Oh, okay," Michael said.

"I've been meaning to ask you this all night. Did you ask Russell to use Scott for that scene?" I asked Randy.

"No, I didn't mention anything to him. He probably pulled him out because of how young he looks. That's kinda what the scene was about."

"Okay. Just wondering."

"I'm not saying that I minded -- though it was a bit distracting," Randy smiled.

"So you're interested?"

"He's cute, but he's still in the closet and too young. What is he, 18?"

"I think so."

"Yea, okay. So I'm six years older. It might be fun, but he's not ready for a serious relationship yet. I am."

We stopped our conversation because Scott came out of the bathroom, dressed in sweats and a T-shirt.

"My turn. Finally," Randy sighed and started for the bathroom.

"Um, is it okay if I just go in?" Scott asked.

"Help yourself," Randy answered.

"Which side do you sleep on?"

"The middle, usually," Randy smiled. "But I'll just take the side you're not on. Doesn't matter." He went into the bathroom and shut the door.

"We're just sleeping. I'm not gonna do the chair again, and his bed has more room," Scott said to us.

"Okay," I shrugged.

"You don't have to convince us," Michael added as he climbed into bed. "Night."

"Oh, um. Okay. Night," Scott said and went into Randy's room.

I shut off the light and got in bed.

"I'm gonna be stiff in the morning," Michael mumbled.

"You always are."

"I meant my entire body. We danced too long."

"I'll give you a massage in the morning."

"Not now?"

"I'll fall asleep."

"Me too. Love you."

"Love you."

*** [ Saturday ]

I woke up around eleven to the smell of coffee, but no humming from Randy. Michael was still out cold. I wanted to just go back to sleep, but Nature's call prevented that. After a quick trip to the bathroom I went to get a cup of coffee. Scott was the only one there, sitting at the table drinking.

"Morning," I said as I walked in and fixed myself a cup.

"Hey," Scott said softly.

"Just get up?"

"No. I've been up for an hour or so."

"Thinking?"

Scott shrugged. "Yea, I guess."

"So what'd you think about yesterday?"

"It was totally weird. Are gay clubs really like that?"

"None that I've ever been to. It's just a TV show."

"I know."

"What about the scenery and filming?"

"Kinda interesting. Kinda boring watching them do things over and over."

"Yep. I agree. I was really interested in doing film lighting until I worked on 'Dawson's Creek'. After that... Well, let's just say that theatre is much more interesting."

"Yea, but film has more exposure."

"I'd rather do great work for a limited audience than boring work for a large audience."

"Yea. I guess. Scenic work is different, though."

"Just the medium."

"Yea, okay," Scott sighed. Obviously his thoughts were elsewhere. "You know I had tons of guys giving me their number last night, or offering sex?" He said after a minute or so of silence.

"I wouldn't doubt it."

"That's just weird."

"Why? It's weird for a set, but not for a club."

"I don't know. Maybe it's just weird having guys hitting on me all night."

"At least most of the guys there were pretty hot," I smiled. "How'd you like your scene with Randy and Gale?"

"It was embarrassing. Why'd the director pull me out out of everyone there? I'm not an actor."

"Randy said it was probably because you look so young."

"Yippee for me," Scott said sarcastically.

"Sure. You got to hump two good looking guys, and you'll almost definitely be on screen."

"Shit. I didn't think about that. God, I'll die of embarrassment if someone I know sees that," Scott groaned.

"Well, like I said, anyone who watches it would likely be gay or gay friendly. It's not like a homophobe is going to watch a show named 'Queer as Folk'."

"A lot of the audience is straight women," Randy said as he walked into the kitchen.

"Straight women?" Scott asked.

"Go figure. They like the stories and seeing guys getting it on with each other. Even some straight guys watch it for the lesbian sex scenes."

"Ew. Lesbians having sex? Icky," I joked.

"I'm with ya, man," Randy agreed.

"The British one didn't have lesbians having sex -- at least not that I remember," Scott said.

"We do. It's only loosely based on the UK version."

"So what's the plan today?" I asked Randy.

"We'll just go out on the town. Show you Toronto."

"Is anyone else joining us?" Scott asked.

"For lunch. I don't know about after. We do need to start getting ready."

"I'll get Michael up," I said and started to stand up.

"No need. I'm awake," Michael said as he walked in and dropped down in my lap. "Morning," he smiled and took a gulp from my coffee cup.

"Someone's happy this morning," Randy smirked.

"Yep. Let's get ready and go eat. I'm starved," Michael said and pulled me with him to the bathroom.

"Not that I'm complaining, but why so happy this morning?" I asked once we were in the bathroom.

"I don't know," Michael shrugged. "Maybe just that, however small, I got to show you off to the world last night. The few people who came up to us were really supportive and cool about it. I don't know. I'm just feeling good."

"Mm hmm. You do feel good," I said as I held him and kissed his neck.

"Have a good shower?" Randy smirked as we left the bathroom.

"It's always a good shower with my man," Michael smiled and we went to get dressed.

After everyone was ready we headed to a restaurant to meet up with everyone for lunch.

"No one else showed?" Randy asked as we got to the table where Gale was waiting.

"Apparently not. I was beginning to think I was going to be dining solo," Gale said.

"DINING solo sure would be a change for you," Randy smirked.

"Uh huh. Who was complaining just last week about being a born-again virgin?" Gale countered.

"Well, I slept with someone last night," Randy smiled and put his arm around Scott.

"We just slept," Scott said uncomfortably and pushed Randy's arm off.

"Got one as far as the bed and still can't do anything," Gale laughed.

"Heh, heh, heh," Randy said sarcastically. "I was being a perfect gentleman."

"I bet."

"He didn't do anything gay. We just slept," Scott defended.

"Okay. So no one here is getting any except for us," I smiled.

"Now I wouldn't say that," Gale smiled.

"Your sister doesn't count," Randy said.

"How about your mom?" Gale countered.

"Do you guys only talk about sex?" Scott asked.

"You have seen the show, right?" Gale said like it should be obvious.

"None of us have," Michael said.

"I saw the British one," Scott said.

"I can't believe you haven't seen it. Not a single episode?" Gale asked.

"We don't have ShowTime," Michael said.

"We'll wait for the DVD," I said.

"You must be the only fags in the country who haven't seen it."

"Why does everyone keep calling everyone fags? Isn't that a derogatory term?" Scott asked.

"It can be," Randy said.

"It can also just be a word. It depends on how it's used," Gale said.

"Think about the word 'nigger'. It's definitely a derogatory term, but one black person can call another 'nigga' and it can be negative, but it's usually just a word. Just the same as 'man' or 'guy' or so on. A white person, because of the history behind it, can't call a black man 'nigga' without it sounding bad -- no matter how close they are. Joey once explained it to me that it's like taking back a word of hate and making it a word of familiarity. A gay guy calling other gays guys 'fags' or lesbians 'dykes' doesn't have the same meaning. There's not the hate behind it. We're taking the word back," I explained.

"Who's Joey?"

"My cousin. He's mulatto."

"That's why you asked the black question, isn't it?" Scott smiled with recognition.

"Yep."

"The black question?" Randy asked.

"He asked how I felt about black people when he interviewed me," Scott explained. "Then about gays. I asked if he had a black gay roommate."

"And then he asked if Michael was gay. I said he'd better be or I was gonna break up with him."

"No worries. I'm as queer as a four dollar bill," Michael smiled.

"You mean three dollar bill," Randy corrected.

"No. I meant four. Three is too common."

"Oh. Someone has delusions of self-importance," Randy teased.

"We can't all be common fags," Michael shot back.

"What about you, Scott?" Gale asked.

"Don't pull me into that. They can be whatever they want."

The banter continued through lunch and then we headed out to see Toronto. It was okay. We had a good time, though. We went out to a pretty decent jazz club that night and got to bed by 2AM.

We got home Sunday around six.

"Are you going out tonight, Scott?" I asked.

"No. I'm just gonna chill and read some. Why?"

"Then you might want to turn on the stereo," I smiled and walked into the bathroom after Michael.

"You ready for a month of lovin' in one night?" Michael smiled as he got the water ready.

"Willing to try, but don't think you're gonna get off that easy."

"Huh?"

"I'm only gonna let you cum once tonight."

"Really?"

"Yep. And not until after midnight," I smiled.

"That's six hours. Think you can keep it up that long?"

"Probably not, but it doesn't matter. Up and down, just no orgasm until after midnight."

"What if I can't hold it until then?"

"Then I'll tie you to the bed so you can't relieve yourself," I smiled.

"Okay. I'm game," he smiled back.

I started my plan in the shower as I washed him slowly and erotically. The bastard had the nerve to do the same to me. We finished up and ran to our room. Michael flopped down on the bed spread-eagle.

"Okay. Go for it," he smiled.

"You really want me to tie you down?"

"Sure. For a little bit. What are you going to use?"

"I don't know. We don't have any rope."

"Just use a belt."

"Okay." I dug out two belts and figured a way to restrain his hands. We didn't have a headboard, so I belted each hand separately to opposite sides of the bed and tied to the bed frame. "Is that okay? Not too tight?"

Michael pulled his arms in as much as he could and then relaxed. I'd looped the belt around his wrists so it would only be tight if he pulled.

"It's fine. I'm waiting," he smiled.

"Not yet," I said and grabbed a bandana. "You have to be blindfolded." I climbed over him blindfolded him with it. "Now you're ready."

"Yea," Michael sighed.

I kissed him deeply and then pulled up so I wasn't touching him. Slowly and randomly, I placed gentle kisses around his body. As I went, the kisses got longer and gradually turned to licks, and then sucks. Michael was at full attention. I stayed clear of his erection, but he was breathing heavily.

"It's gonna be a long six hours," he sighed lustily.

"Yep," I said and got up to grab the massage oil. I started at his feet and worked up. It took twenty minutes to get to his chest, and then slowly up his arms. He was totally relaxed when I finished. I kissed him again. "Be right back," I said and pulled on a pair of shorts and ran to the kitchen for an ice-cube.

"What'd you get?" Michael asked as I sat back on the bed.

Instead of answering him, I set the ice-cube on his right nipple.

"Ahh. That's cold," he jumped.

"Yep. Oh, look. You've got a perky nipple now," I smiled and then licked it warm while I chilled the other one. The next appropriate place was, of course, his erection.

"God damn! That's cold," Michael squirmed, but it had the desired effect -- he softened.

Once he was flaccid and almost shivering, I threw the small remains of the ice-cube to the floor and warmed his cold dick in my mouth. He quickly grew back to full erection.

"That's a neat trick," Michael sighed.

"Worked better than I thought," I said and then licked and sucked at his balls. They were starting to pull up tight, so I backed off.

"Is it midnight, yet?"

"Nope. Only eight."

"Shit. I'm gonna explode."

"Eventually," I smiled and moved up so I was straddling his chest and hung my erection in front of his mouth. I rubbed myself over his lips and dodged his tongue as he tried to suck me. Eventually I let him have me and slowly slid in and out of his mouth. I stopped when I felt myself getting close and released him from his restraints.

"Over already?"

"Nope. Roll over."

He rolled over and put his arms back out so I could reattach the belts. I spread his legs as far as they would go and pulled his semi-erect cock back so it was pointing at his feet. I then did the same to his back that I'd done to his front -- starting with kisses and ending with a massage. A slow lube later, I slid into him with long and painfully slow strokes. He was moaning and humping the bed. It took all the willpower I had to pull out before I came. With no willpower left, I released his arms and flipped him over. Before he had the chance to do anything, I rolled a condom on him sat down. I pulled the blindfold off. His eyes were very heavy with lust and his mouth was a half-smile.

"What now?" He sighed.

I lifted a little and then dropped back down before taking his hands in mine and leaning down to kiss him. I more flexed than bounced as we kissed. As soon as his reactions started getting jumpy, I'd stop moving until he relaxed. His stomach was wet with sweat and my pre-cum. I looked at the clock -- only 9:30.

"I don't think I'm gonna be able to hold out until midnight," I smiled.

"Yea. Now would be good," Michael moaned.

"Yea, okay," I said and pulled off him. I pulled off the condom and coated each of us with more lube before laying down on him and rolling over so he was on top. We kissed and humped against each other frantically. I squeezed him tight and went over the edge in a powerful orgasm. Michael was only seconds behind me. We were both shaking from the intensity and then went limp and totally relaxed.

"Hmm. We're gonna have to do this again," Michael mumbled in my ear as he laid on top of me.

"Definitely. I love you," I said back and kissed his ear.

"I love you," Michael said and leaned up enough to look me in the eye. He smiled, kissed me, and then dropped back down to hold me.

After a few more minutes of recovery we got up and took another shower. Michael changed our sheets while I went to make us a late dinner. Scott was reading on the sofa with headphones on. I smiled as I walked by and Scott looked at his watch.

"Shit. You guys were doing it for four hours?"

"A new record," I smiled -- and I'm sure it was a goofy smile. "We did have two showers in there."

"Yea, but you guys do it in the shower, too."

"Jealous?" I teased.

"No, but envious. My hand never lasts that long," Scott laughed.

"You'd have Popeye arms if it did," I countered and went to the kitchen.

Michael soon joined me and we had a light dinner, cleaned up, and then went back to bed. He had to be at the airport by 5AM and it had been a long day already. We went right to sleep.

I took him to the airport in the morning. Neither of us were remotely awake. After a long hug good-bye, I headed home and went straight to bed for a few more hours.

Comments welcomed and encouraged. jm_stories@yahoo.com