Lovegames

LOVEGAMES

M. Jules Aedin

www.loose-id.com

Lovegames Copyright © January 2012 by M. Jules Aedin All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

eISBN 978-1-61118-726-7 Editor: Jana J. Hanson Cover Artist: April Martinez

Printed in the United States of America

Published by Loose Id LLC PO Box 809 San Francisco CA 94104-0809 www.loose-id.com

This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Warning

This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some

readers. Loose Id LLC’s e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers. ****

DISCLAIMER: Please do not try any new sexual practice, especially those that might be found in our BDSM/fetish titles without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither Loose Id LLC nor its authors will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of its titles. Dedication

For my mother, who has read every story I’ve published so far and will probably read this one against my advice—I am so sorry to have to tell you this, but your kid’s a perv.

Visit dpgroup.org for more MM books uploaded by our generous Members

Chapter One

Sebastian Keane groaned as he looked down at his beersoaked T-shirt. “This is not the way karma is supposed to work.” The guy who had spilled his beer all over Sebastian—and himself—looked up from where he was mopping up his own shirt. “I’m sorry?” “No, nothing, I just…” Sebastian shook his head and laughed bitterly as he fingered the dripping garment. “I just threw my own beer all over the guy I came here with about three minutes ago, so it’s kind of, I dunno, karmic in a twisted way.” The guy tossed his half-empty cup into a nearby trash can and took a second to evaluate Sebastian. “Why’d you throw your beer on him?” “Hm? Oh, because his boyfriend showed up screaming at both of us.” Sebastian shrugged. He was still pissed off at Russell. Sebastian didn’t get picked up very often, no matter what his friends thought, and his only unbreakable rule was honesty. He hated being lied to. Russell had told

Sebastian at the party last night that he was single. The guy who’d lunged at Russell and had to be restrained by his friends would beg to differ. “I don’t have a problem with sharing, but if that’s the way he wants to roll, he should’ve told his boyfriend. And me.” The corner of the guy’s mouth quirked up, and Sebastian couldn’t help but notice the faint ghost of a dimple in his cheek. Great. He was always a sucker for dimples. “Can’t argue with you there. You know, why don’t you come over here and let me get you a new shirt. That one’s going to smell awful when the beer starts drying.” The guy stuck out his hand to shake, and Sebastian took it automatically. “I’m Keith, by the way.” “Baz.” Sebastian’s roommate, Jason, had dubbed him with the unlikely nickname a year ago, and somewhere along the line, Sebastian had gotten used to introducing himself as such. Keith’s eyebrow ticked up in apparent amusement. “Yeah, okay. C’mon, kitten, let’s get you out of those clothes.” “Kitten?” Keith had started walking away before he’d even stopped speaking, and Sebastian had to jog to catch up. “What the fuck is that supposed to be? A come on?” “Now did I say anything about coming on you?”

Sebastian blinked as he tried to process that sentence in any way except the dirty double entendre he’d heard to begin with. His temper sparked, and he stopped dead in his tracks. Just because he dressed a certain way didn’t mean he was a slut, willing to put out for just anyone—even if they did have perfect dimples and blue eyes to die for. “You know what? I don’t live that far from here. I’ll go home and change.” He flashed a saccharine-sweet smile and spun on his heel. He supposed he really shouldn’t have been surprised when a hand grabbed his elbow. “Hey, slow down, kit—uh, kid.” Keith pulled him around so they were face-to-face, and Sebastian thought he might have been more inclined to forgive if Keith hadn’t been obviously two seconds away from laughing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. Let me get you another shirt, really. It’s not that big of a deal.” This was turning out to be the worst Pride ever. The cute guy he’d come with already had a boyfriend and had lied about it, he’d lost his very expensive cup of beer to the good cause of a dramatic gesture, and now this son of a bitch was patronizing him. At twenty-one, beer was still at a premium; as a college student, his hard-earned cash was even more valuable; and this guy might be as hot as the devil’s asshole, but that didn’t mean he got to treat Sebastian like a two-dollar whore.

“No, really.” Sebastian backed away, fishing his wallet out of his too-tight jeans and pulling out his last ten-dollar bill. “Here. Go get yourself another beer. Sorry about the other one. Have a nice day.” The bastard had bumped into him, but Sebastian just wanted out. Now. Keith waved him off. “Thanks, ki…Baz, but that’s okay.” Keith’s smile was somehow both condescending and admiring, and Sebastian felt his face turning hot with rage. Who did this guy think he was? “Mr. Black!” A very harried-looking man who gave the impression that he lived on antacids and coffee and not much else came scurrying up, a plastic badge on a lanyard flapping in the breeze. “Mr. Black, they want you backstage for a sound check. We’ve been looking all over for you.” This last was said accusingly, the man’s eyes narrowing at Keith—oh shit. Keith Black. Sebastian had to be the only gay boy on his campus who didn’t have Keith Black on his MP3 player, mostly because after the first five hundred times his friends had played Keith’s big single, “Walk Through Fire” or “Fly Through Fire” or something equally obnoxious, Sebastian had never wanted to hear the name again. Maybe he would have paid more attention if he’d

known the guy looked like this. “Sure, Ron. Sorry you had to come looking for me.” Keith glanced over at Sebastian and said, “If this young man will let you, would you grab a shirt in his size from one of the booths? I owe him a replacement. Give him a VIP package too, if he’ll take it, as an apology.” Before Sebastian could complain that he was right there, dammit, Keith turned a dimpled smile on him full-force, and his knees went weak. “I would say I’m sorry for bumping into you, kid, but it was a pleasure to meet you, so that would be a lie. But I do hope the rest of your day goes better.” Keith headed off in the direction of the amphitheater, and Ron gave Sebastian a look of utter surprise. Sebastian realized he was still standing there with his wallet in his hand and a beer stain on his shirt, and he blushed as he stuffed his wallet back into his pocket. “Um, sir…?” Ron looked like he might start rooting in his pockets for a roll of Tums any second now. “Would you— that is…” Sebastian took pity on the poor guy. “Size small,” he said, trying not to sigh. He was skinny on top of being embarrassingly short. It made it far too easy for guys like Keith Black not to take him seriously. He thought about

refusing the shirt on principle but figured he should at least have a souvenir from this bizarre experience. Plus, on a college-student budget, free clothes were not to be turned down. “Thank you.” “Right.” Ron still sounded a little bit weirded out by the whole thing, and Sebastian thought he knew exactly how the dude felt. Visit dpgroup.org for more MM books uploaded by our generous Members

**** Visit dpgroup.org for more MM books uploaded by our generous Members “You have that look on your face.” Keith gazed up at his lover, Adam Cruce, from his stretched-out position on the floor. “What look is that?” “The one that says you’ve found your target for the evening and have your eye on him.” Adam smiled as he dropped to the floor beside Keith, apparently unconcerned with getting his clothes dirty or wrinkled. There were many things Keith loved about Adam, but his unselfconsciousness was possibly first on that list. It was something Keith had never

managed to attain. “Is he pretty?” “He’s too pretty for words.” Keith sighed, thinking of the college-boy twink he’d bumped into. “I spilled my beer on him.” Adam winced through his laughter. “Jesus. No one who sees you dance would know what an epic klutz you are. Was he mad?” “As a wet cat.” “So now you want him even more because he was pissed at you and didn’t fall for your charm. Is that it?” Keith narrowed his eyes at his lover before pulling himself into a sitting position, nose to nose with him. “I thought we’d had this discussion before.” Adam was still laughing, his breath tickling over Keith’s lips, tempting him with the thought of dragging Adam off to the rehearsal room and locking the door. Or maybe not locking the door—sometimes having an audience spiced things up. “Which discussion is that?” “The one where you agreed not to read my mind.” Keith couldn’t help himself; he brushed a quick kiss over Adam’s mouth. “I don’t remember signing that clause in our prenup, babe.

You’re making things up again.” But Adam kissed him back before he could argue that he wasn’t making things up, dammit, and besides that, they didn’t even have a prenup. It was kind of hard to have prenuptial agreements when there weren’t any nuptials. “How long do you have before you have to go on?” Adam nipped at his lips, distracting him, making it difficult to answer. He was thinking about getting even more distracted—Adam was good enough to eat in fitted jeans and a hilariously conservative polo, and a dirty little blowjob on the floor was just what the doctor ordered—when he remembered why he was backstage in the first place. “Unfortunately”—he sighed—“they want me for sound checks in about five minutes, and we’re good, but we’re not that good.” He put his hand in the middle of Adam’s chest and pushed back, but he lost his resolve halfway there and stroked down to Adam’s stomach to tug at his belt buckle instead. He slipped his hand behind the waistband of Adam’s jeans and grinned. “Maybe I can be five minutes late. Dressing room?” “Men’s room is closer.” “But not as empty, and babe, as much as I love showing you off, I’d rather us not get arrested for it.” Adam grinned and licked Keith’s lips, taking a moment to

palm Keith’s crotch through his tight—and getting tighter by the second—leather pants. “All right. Dressing room. But hurry up.” Keith had plans to suck Adam off, but as soon as they were inside the room with the door closed and locked, Adam shoved Keith against the wall and went to his knees, taking Keith’s pants and underwear with him. “Tell me about the boy,” Adam demanded as he palmed Keith’s cock. He looked up through long golden eyelashes, the smattering of freckles across his nose giving him an innocent air that made his current position that much hotter. He jacked Keith’s erection with firm, steady pulls, flicking his tongue over the head. “The one you wanted to pick up. Tell me about him.” “He was—fuck, baby!” As soon as Keith started talking, Adam fastened his mouth over the head of Keith’s dick and sucked hard, hollowing his cheeks. Adam gave him a reprimanding look, and Keith took a deep breath. If he didn’t keep going, Adam would quit. “He…he was young, probably in college… At least twenty-one, ’cause he’d bought a beer.” Keith couldn’t help the way his hips bucked, pushing his dick deeper into Adam’s mouth. “Although maybe he just batted his eyelashes at the bartender and gave him a blowjob behind the counter.” Adam made a humming noise that, at any other time, Keith

would have cataloged as “thoughtful.” At the moment, it sounded dirty and delicious and felt fucking amazing. “He was tiny—less than five-five, easy—and skinny. Prettiest face I’ve ever seen. Blue-green eyes…glitter and eyeliner, all glammed up.” Adam’s mouth screwed down the length of Keith’s dick, and he lost his train of thought for a minute. Adam cupped Keith’s balls in his hand and squeezed, just enough to remind Keith he was supposed to be talking. “H-he… Fuck, baby, yeah… He was…” He slid his hand into Adam’s hair, cupping the back of his skull. Adam sucked harder, and Keith struggled to keep talking. “Twotone hair…black roots, blond tips. Mouth you’d pay to see around your dick. Fucking perfect little nose.” Adam started choking, and Keith managed to get enough control of himself to let go of Adam’s hair and let him pull back. He didn’t expect Adam to pull all the way off—or to be laughing. “His nose?” Keith scowled. “Shut up and suck my dick, bitch.” The words lost most of their heat since Keith was laughing too. “And yeah, his nose.” Adam was still snickering, but he must have realized they’d used up at least all of Keith’s five minutes and were probably getting close to ten more,

because he managed to at least stop smiling long enough to stuff Keith’s cock back into his mouth. Keith moaned as he sank into the wet heat of Adam’s mouth. Waves of red-tinted pleasure rippled through him. He was pretty sure Adam had learned to suck dick from either an angel or a whore; nobody Keith had ever met sucked his cock like Adam did. He wondered how the college boy would do. Speaking of… “He’d fit perfectly between us, babe.” Keith shut his eyes and imagined that exquisite little body between them, all three of them slick with sweat as they moved together. “Maybe he’d even take us both at the same time, both our cocks shoved into his tight little hole…” Adam groaned around his dick, and Keith gasped, yanking on Adam’s hair. “Babe, I’m…I’m com—oh shit, baby, yeah!” Adam swallowed him down, pulling back in time to catch the last droplets on his lips, and then grinned up at Keith as he licked them off slowly and deliberately. “Fuck,” Keith panted, sliding down the wall. Adam climbed over him and kissed him, sharing the last traces of flavor, and Keith tilted his head, inviting Adam’s tongue deeper. “I swear to God,” Keith said when they parted. “You get better every single time. I wish I had time to pay you back, but…”

“Mm.” Adam kissed him again. “You can owe me.” He stood up and reached down to help Keith to his feet, then fussed with Keith’s hair as Keith pulled his underwear and leather pants back up. The leather was harder to get on now that his skin was damp with sweat, but he wriggled into it anyway. He’d just gotten the fly done up when there was a pounding on the door. “Keith? You horny bastard, get the fuck out here. They’re gonna kick us off the stage without a sound check if you’re not there in three minutes.” Adam laughed and yelled through the door, “Hold your horses, Manny. He’s zipping up.” “Shoulda known it was your fault this time,” the drummer called back. “Everyone thinks he corrupted you, but some of us know it was the other way around.” Keith had himself put back together by then, and he pulled open the door and shoved past Manny. “Come on, dude. Stop flirting with my boyfriend and let’s go.” “See ya, Manny,” Adam called, not sounding the least bit repentant. Keith saw Manny flip up his middle finger at Adam and

grinned. They made it onto the stage with thirty seconds to spare. Visit dpgroup.org for more MM books uploaded by our generous Members

****

Adam Cruce swiped at the corner of his mouth with his thumb, checking for leftover cheese sauce from the soft pretzel he’d just finished. The damn things were his downfall, and he knew he should stop eating them before they ruined his physique and sent Keith running to one of his pretty-boy groupies once and for all, but every now and then couldn’t hurt. Besides, that was what personal trainers were for. He’d been meaning to find Keith after the sound check, but apparently Adam was wanted for interviews and Keith had a last-minute rehearsal with his band. The cute photographer they’d hit on in DC was at the rehearsal snapping pics, and Adam felt a little jealous that Keith was going to be locked up in a room with him for several minutes, but he didn’t think the photog would fall prey to Keith’s charm. He’d turned them down cold in DC, after all. And it wasn’t that he minded if Keith got the guy in bed; it

was just that Adam wanted a chance at him too. So instead, Adam was wandering around the Pride setup, checking out vendors, occasionally buying little rainbowthemed knickknacks for the hell of it. He knew there was an extra security person hanging around close by, but it was almost comical how much Adam didn’t get recognized. At the most, someone would tilt their head at him and say, “Has anyone ever told you that you look kinda like that guy from Boyfriends?” He hadn’t decided yet if it was a compliment or an insult that they didn’t recognize him out of character. At least he knew people were watching his show. So Adam was seriously unprepared for a soft gasp beside him and a sexy little voice saying tentatively, “Are you… You’re Jamie from Boyfriends, aren’t you?” He looked down quickly, surprised and pleased at being recognized, and the wide eyes staring back at him— turquoise and clear like a tropical ocean, rimmed in thick blue eyeliner with sparkly glitter spreading up his temples and into his two-tone hair—stole his breath like a sucker punch. He would bet money this was Keith’s pretty boy, and goddamn, his boyfriend had good taste. “Adam Cruce, actually.” He laughed when the kid blushed. Fuck yes, he was going to pick up where Keith had left off

trying to get this boy into their bed. “But yes, I’m Jamie on Boyfriends. It’s nice to meet you…?” He left the sentence hanging in the air, hoping it would entice the kid into telling Adam his name. “Baz—um, Sebastian Keane.” His eyes were still impossibly wide, his pupils blown so there was only a tiny ring of jewel-toned aqua around them, and Adam was not above using a little starpower to try to seduce him. Usually Keith was the one bringing in the starfucker factor; it was nice to be the carrot instead of the stick for a change. “Nice to meet you, Sebastian Keane.” He took a moment to really look at the kid, amused to notice that he was wearing one of Keith’s tour shirts, Keith’s hot-eyed devil smirk painted over black fabric promising synthetic sin just from wearing it. “I see you’re wearing one of my boyfriend’s shirts.” He grinned when Sebastian looked down at himself like he wasn’t sure exactly what he was wearing. “Yeah, um, he… I sort of ran into him, and there was beer spillage, and he offered me a clean shirt, so…” Sebastian shrugged, looking so adorably awkward Adam thought he could actually feel his mouth watering. He wanted to protect the boy; he also wanted to eat him up. “I don’t actually know his music that well. Just that one single, that ‘Fire’ song that

my roommate played until my ears bled.” Sebastian’s gorgeous eyes went wide, and he backpedaled quickly. “Not that it’s a bad song! Or anything! I… It was…” Adam laughed, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder, taking advantage of the moment to touch him, to gauge his reaction. Sebastian shivered, and Adam let his hand skim down Sebastian’s arm before it fell away completely. “Don’t worry. I think I understand the concept of overplayed.” He tilted his head toward the amphitheater. “Unfortunately, he’ll probably be playing that song tonight, but he’ll also be doing a few others I actually like better, if you want to come check it out.” Sebastian hesitated, and Adam pressed a little further, hoping he was setting the hook, not letting this shiny little fish off the line. “I’ve got a good spot to watch it from, if the crowd’s too much for you.” Sebastian’s gaze shot to his, and Adam knew he had him. “Really?” Sebastian looked like he regretted sounding so breathless and starstruck, but the awed tone went straight to Adam’s head. “You wouldn’t mind? I mean…” Hook, line, and sinker; time to reel him in. Oh, wouldn’t Keith be surprised. But it wouldn’t do for the kid not to know what he could be getting into. “Why don’t we go take a look at it, and you can see if you want to watch the concert from there.” Just because he

wanted Sebastian to know what was going on didn’t mean he wanted to announce it to all of Pride Charlotte. Sebastian trailed along behind him on the way to the reserved VIP seating. The security guards nodded to Adam as they passed, and Sebastian pressed a little closer, apparently unaware of his action. Adam felt his skin tingle when Sebastian’s arm brushed against his, and he couldn’t help a thrill of anticipation. He sure as hell hoped Sebastian was on board with the threesome idea because if it was this hot walking side by side, the sex was going to be mindblowing. When they got into the VIP area, which still had a few too many people around for Adam’s taste but was much more private, he turned to Sebastian. “Here’s the deal,” he said, voting for the blunt and simple approach. “Keith and I like to invite other partners in to play with us. He mentioned that he found you very attractive, and I have to say I agree with him. We’d like you to come back to our hotel with us after the show tonight.” Sebastian’s face was starting to go pale, and Adam rushed ahead. “It’s not mandatory. You have plenty of time to think about it, and if you decide you don’t want to, that’s fine. We’re not going to be angry with you. Either way, you’re still welcome to watch the show from one of these VIP seats, no strings

attached. Consider it my contribution to Keith’s apology for spilling his beer on you and then being an ass.” “He wasn’t—” Sebastian stopped, unable to finish the lie. Adam grinned. “He’s not really an ass, but I do know my boyfriend, and I know how he comes off. It’s okay. You’re allowed to think he was a total shithead.” Sebastian shook his head, and Adam saw that he was really going to argue this time. “No, I’ve met total shitheads, and…Keith…isn’t one.” The kid seemed really awkward about saying the name so casually, and Adam forced himself not to smile. “He might have been kind of an ass, but…he tried to make it better.” Sebastian shrugged, and Adam arched an eyebrow at him, hoping to prompt him back onto the other line of conversation. “I’d… If it’s okay, I’d love to watch the show from here…with you.” Sebastian cleared his throat. “And can I think about the other for a little while? It’s kind of…unexpected.” “Of course.” Adam motioned one of the security guards over and then gestured to the kid. “John, this is Sebastian Keane. He’s my guest this evening for Keith’s show. Just in case he needs something when I’m not here, I wanted to make sure there won’t be any problem.” “Of course not, Mr. Cruce.” John nodded, all professional

demeanor. Adam had gotten to know him a little earlier, and he quite liked the guy. “I’ll let everyone know.” When John walked away, Adam looked back at Sebastian. “So that’s it. The cat’s out of the bag. Even if you decide you don’t want to sleep with me and Keith”— oh, the kid’s blush was sweet like candy—“the security staff knows you’re to be allowed in this area. It’s all yours for the evening.” He leaned in closer, turning up the charm Keith insisted he had. He held eye contact until the last second, when he put his lips closer to Sebastian’s ear, relishing the kid’s quiet shiver. He let his hand skim up Sebastian’s arm to rest on his shoulder and lowered his voice. “And so you’re clear, so are we.”

Visit dpgroup.org for more MM books uploaded by our generous Members

Chapter Two

The only word Sebastian could think of to describe his current situation was “surreal.” Several times he had reached for the cell phone in his pocket to text his

roommate, Jason, with something like, “Guess who asked me for a threesome?” Every time, he chickened out at the last minute. For one, he still hadn’t decided if he was going to say yes, and he didn’t want Jason’s fanboy opinion to influence him. For another, he didn’t want to be rude to Adam Cruce—Adam freaking Cruce!—who was standing beside him. The TV star grinned lasciviously as he watched his boyfriend strutting back and forth on the stage while Keith swiveled his hips in his leather pants and ground up against his band members. At first, Sebastian was amazed that Adam didn’t seem to mind Keith’s sexual behavior with everyone on stage, but then he remembered that they were both on board with asking him for a threesome and figured they must have a sexually open relationship. And with that, he was right back to trying to figure out if he was going to go back to their hotel with them. It was hard to talk over the music, and in between the music, it was hard to talk over the chatter of the audience, but Sebastian took advantage of a lull between songs to turn to Adam, shouting to be heard over the crowd. “If I don’t go with you, will you pick up someone else?” Adam blinked at him as if it was the last question he’d expected Sebastian to ask. “Probably not. You’ve piqued

our interest, but we weren’t really intending to pick up anyone at this event at all.” Something about his inflection made Sebastian wonder. “Do y’all do this often?” Adam’s smile was like sunshine, and Sebastian almost missed it when he said, “God, Southern boys are so cute.” He glanced at the stage, at Keith, and Sebastian wondered if Keith could see them from up there with all those lights in his eyes. “But to answer your question, yeah, we do. Not all the time, but often enough to be considered a habit.” Sebastian nodded. That helped, knowing where he slotted into their plans. No pressure, no strings; a one-night fling because they thought he was, what, hot? Easy? Interesting? All of the above? Well, damn. It wasn’t his usual thing, and he still might regret it, but he might regret saying “no” more. It wasn’t every day he got propositioned by his favorite actor, and since when could he not handle a little casual sex? “All right,” he said, nodding. “I’ll do it, if you still want me to.” That sun-bright smile nearly blinded him, and as Keith counted in the next song up on stage, Adam leaned in a little. “Do you mind if we get started now?” One of his hands came up to brush through Sebastian’s long, sideswept bangs. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you for about an

hour.” They’d bumped into each other only about an hour before, so that meant… Sebastian tried not to feel flattered but failed. He might be a plaything, a live sex toy for the couple to share, but they hadn’t been planning to pick anyone up here, and they’d picked him. “Sebastian?” Sebastian started at the use of his name. Almost everyone he knew now called him Baz; it sounded strange. He decided he liked it. “Yeah, that’s…” Keith’s band started up, and Sebastian recognized the opening notes of that “Fire” song, whatever it was called. “That’s fine,” he shouted over the screaming guitar. Adam grinned and leaned in, coaxing Sebastian into the hottest kiss he could ever remember having. Adam’s mouth teased him expertly, Adam’s tongue slid between his lips, and Sebastian heard a little voice inside his head shouting, “Oh my God, I’m kissing Adam Cruce!” Adam shifted closer to him, and Sebastian tilted his head, pushing himself up on his toes so Adam didn’t have to bend over so much. Adam’s arms caught him around the small of his back, pulling him into Adam’s body. A long leg worked itself between Sebastian’s thighs, and he groaned as he straddled it, instinctively rocking down in search of

friction. Adam pushed his leg up and gripped Sebastian’s ass, encouraging the motion, and Sebastian had to break the kiss to gulp air as he felt himself ratcheting higher. Adam was murmuring something in his ear, but Sebastian couldn’t understand him over the music, and he wasn’t sure if he was learning to love this song after all or starting to hate it more. “…gonna come for me?” The words made it through the song into Sebastian’s consciousness, and he jerked against Adam’s thigh, losing his rhythm for a second. Holy fuck, I am dry humping

Adam Cruce’s leg, and I am about to fucking come. “C’mon, Sebastian…” The hand on his ass squeezed harder, and Sebastian threw his head back, his body arching desperately as he abandoned all common sense and just did what Adam wanted. Adam’s mouth found his exposed throat, licking and kissing, and then sensation exploded through him when Adam bit down and sucked, raising what Sebastian knew was going to be a hell of a bruise. “Oh, fuck!” he shouted as he came inside his pants, shaking hard. Adam didn’t let him go, just held him closer, and he leaned back against Adam’s grip, trusting the man

completely as his consciousness slowly dripped back into his body. Adam sprinkled soft kisses across his neck and face as Sebastian began feeling a little less boneless, and then the realization of what he’d done snapped into the forefront of his mind. He looked around a little wildly, waiting for the security guard to escort him out for public indecency. Some Pride celebrations across the country could get kind of raunchy, but Charlotte was so well-behaved it was ridiculous. None of the guards were so much as looking at them, though. The only person Sebastian even saw paying attention was a guy in the regular seats who could probably barely see them, and he didn’t look upset if the hand rubbing his crotch was anything to go by. “Don’t worry,” Adam said at his ear, still shouting a little to be heard over the song. “You’re safe with me.” Sebastian’s attention snapped back to the man holding him, and he searched Adam’s face for the meaning behind that phrase. Did he mean Sebastian didn’t have to worry about getting in trouble as long as he was Adam’s guest? Did he mean that he wasn’t going to hurt him sexually? Either way, Sebastian found he believed him and nodded. Adam smiled almost smugly and kissed his lips again,

softer this time, not as hungry, and gently let Sebastian slide off his leg to stand on his own two feet again. Still trembling, Sebastian tugged his pants down so they weren’t jammed up into his crotch, wincing at the stickiness against his skin. In retrospect, maybe that hadn’t been such a great idea. Sebastian hissed when Adam palmed his crotch, his dick too sensitive for even Adam’s gentle squeezes. Adam must have seen his face or felt him tense, because he moved his hand away with a wry smile, instead stroking a light touch down Sebastian’s spine from neck to lower back and kissing his nape. He kept up the erratic butterfly caresses until the end of the concert when Keith took a bow on stage and blew kisses to the audience. “C’mon,” Adam said in his ear over the roar of applause. “Let’s go.”

Visit dpgroup.org for more MM books uploaded by our generous Members

****

Backstage was chaos, and Sebastian found himself pressing close to Adam’s side to stay out of everyone’s way. At least Adam didn’t seem to mind. He heard Keith a split second before he saw him, laughing and still singing little disjointed snatches of lyrics, and when the man came around the corner, Sebastian just stared. Keith was sweaty and glowing, energized and lit up from the inside. He was smiling, and even though he should have been exhausted after everything he’d put into that show, he was damn near bouncing on his toes. Sebastian felt Adam shift beside him and looked up to see a look of utter adoration cross the older man’s face. “Baby!” Keith called out, clearly angling for Adam. “Was it awesome? It felt awesome.” “It was amazing,” Adam said, his hand skimming over Sebastian’s lower back, including him in the statement, reminding them of what they’d shared during Keith’s show. “It was so good, I brought you a present.” He pushed lightly, just enough to make Sebastian stumble forward. Keith’s eyes flicked to Sebastian, apparently noticing him for the first time, and his expression brightened with unfettered delight. “Look what the cat dragged in!” With a little less energy, a little less enthusiasm, it would have sounded unbearably cocky, but somehow Sebastian

felt warmed by Keith’s happiness. Keith approached Sebastian more cautiously than Sebastian would have expected, but he reached for Sebastian’s face with something like drunken fascination. “So pretty,” he murmured. Fingertips dragged down Sebastian’s jaw to his throat, and Sebastian fought a shiver. The soft touch didn’t match anything from the arrogant man he’d met earlier, although the way Keith looked at him like he was a particularly tasty tray of hors d’oeurves told him it wouldn’t stay this tentative for long. “You’re coming with us?” Unlike their earlier encounter, Keith’s tone of voice this time kept the clear entendre from sounding dirty. It could almost be innocent except for the low undercurrent of lust running through the words. Adam was looking at him expectantly, and Sebastian realized they were waiting for him to answer. “Yeah.” It came out reedy and thin, and he cleared his throat before he repeated it louder, more firmly. “Yeah, I am.” “Mm.” Keith’s eyes fluttered closed blissfully for a moment before he turned to Adam, his other hand stroking over the hollow of Adam’s throat. “You’re so good to me, baby.” Adam caught Keith’s hand and brought it to his lips instead. “I’m always good to you. Go get showered and changed so

we can go, okay?” He kissed Keith’s fingertips again, and Sebastian felt more like an interloper than a boy toy as he watched. “We’ll be waiting for you.” Adam’s fingers twitched against Sebastian’s lower back, and the weird feeling was gone. He’d forgotten Adam was still touching him, what with the way Keith was feeling up his chest. “Yeah, okay.” Keith kissed Adam with a relish not unlike a starving man biting into a ripe, juicy apple and then regarded Sebastian for a moment. The kiss he gave Sebastian wasn’t nearly as possessive as the one he’d given Adam, but the warm, wet push of tongue was enough to make Sebastian arch into him, body buzzing with memory and anticipation. Then he was gone, and Sebastian was drawing in shuddering breaths, leaning against Adam until he didn’t feel quite so dizzy. Adam chuckled and traced up Sebastian’s back to ruffle his hair, petting through the long blond bangs and brushing over the shorter, darker hair in the back. “He’ll settle down some after his shower. Performing always gets him like this. I’d swear he was high if I didn’t know better.” Adam punctuated his reassurance with a kiss to the side of Sebastian’s head. “Are you okay?”

Sebastian was aware of everyone backstage—musicians, dancers, road crew—who had seen the little exchange between the three of them. Everyone knew that Sebastian was going to be Adam and Keith’s toy for the night. He thought about the assumptions they could be making about him, a skinny little twink with makeup and a Keith Black tour shirt on, leaning against Adam, lips swollen and jeans already stiff with come. Adam stepped away from him, putting a little more distance between them, and really looked. “Are you still okay with this?” He pitched his voice low, reassuring, too quiet for everyone else to hear. Sebastian remembered riding Adam’s thigh to orgasm, remembered watching Keith kiss Adam like he was going to eat him alive, and thought about what they were offering him. Adam was still waiting for an answer, and Sebastian asked slowly, “Can I be in the middle?” The smile that spread across Adam’s face made his kiss with Keith look innocent. “You can be wherever you want.”

Visit dpgroup.org for more MM books uploaded by our generous Members

****

They rode back to the hotel in a hired SUV with privacy glass between them and the professionally detached driver. Keith had, as predicted, calmed down after his shower. He still seemed to be riding the edges of euphoria, but Sebastian no longer wondered what would come up on a drug test. Adam sprawled comfortably on the seat across from Sebastian and Keith, his back to the driver. Passing streetlights illuminated him briefly, and every time, Sebastian saw that his calm, smirking gaze was settled on either Sebastian or Keith. “Sebastian.” Adam’s voice was quiet, but Sebastian still jumped. “Do you need to let anyone know you won’t be home?” Sebastian thought of Jason. There was a fifty-fifty chance his roommate wouldn’t even be home, much less worried about where Sebastian was, but it would probably be a good idea to tell him, just in case. “Just my roommate.” He fumbled his phone out of his pocket, suddenly aware of Keith’s attention turning to him from where it had been wandering who-knew-where. He texted Jason a short, uninformative Don’t wait up for me and then stuffed his phone back into his pocket after turning

the volume down. Keith’s hand was already trailing across his forearm by the time he put the phone away, the touch not quite light enough to be ticklish but enough to raise shivers in its wake. “So, kitten…” “Baz.” His tone was sharper than he’d intended, but he didn’t take it back. Keith’s smile was a little apologetic, a little sad as he allowed himself to be corrected. “Baz. You look good in my shirt.” There was just enough leer in his voice and sparkle in his eye that Sebastian could tell he knew the line was cheesy— and that he’d get away with it anyway. “He feels even better than he looks.” Rather than break the rising tension between them, Adam’s voice seemed to smooth it out, weave it thicker, and Sebastian swallowed as Keith gave him an evaluating look. “Tastes good too.” Keith’s attention snapped to Adam then, playfully challenging. “What? You sampled him first?” Keith shook his head as if in disappointment. “Always sneaking tastes,” he scolded. He leaned into Sebastian, fingers curling around Sebastian’s wrist. “I’d like it to be my turn now.” Sebastian hesitated, then nodded, and Keith pulled him

closer, his free hand sliding up Sebastian’s back, over the shorter hair on the back of his head and into the long bangs that fell across his face. Keith caught the bangs and pulled them back—keeping them out of the way but also using them to hold Sebastian in place while he plied Sebastian’s mouth open with his tongue. He kissed like he danced—full of sensuality and confidence and sex incarnate—and Sebastian found himself melting into the embrace. The hand not in Sebastian’s hair slid up under that stupid tour shirt, skimming over his back and then his ribs, and he barely heard Adam’s voice over the sound of his own moans. “He rode my thigh in front of the whole audience at your concert,” Adam said, obviously talking to Keith. “Rutted against me like he was in heat. Came just from humping my leg.” Keith groaned into Sebastian’s mouth, the hand in his hair clenching harder. Adam’s voice deepened as he continued. “He’s still in the same jeans. We’re going to have to ask to have them cleaned at the hotel. Everybody’s going to know what he’s been up to when he comes in walking between us, all hot and bothered, and then we send his jeans down for washing.”

This time it was Sebastian who couldn’t restrain a lustful noise at Adam’s description, squirming against Keith. His dick was filling, pressing against his uncomfortably stiff jeans. He shifted, trying to find a better position. Eventually they had to break the kiss to breathe, and Keith traced Sebastian’s lips with two fingers, teasing around the swollen edges until Sebastian opened his mouth and took them in, suckling. “I want him between us,” Keith said, his voice rough, and Sebastian shivered uncontrollably. Yes, please. He realized he’d bitten down on Keith’s fingers and licked them in apology, soothing them with his tongue like he might Keith’s cock. “I want to watch him swallow your cock while I fuck him—or hell, the other way, I don’t really care.” “Shit, baby.” Sebastian dimly noted that Adam’s voice was closer to them, and that was all the warning he got before he felt another tongue lapping at Keith’s fingers, licking over Sebastian’s lips, and Sebastian let go of Keith’s hand to turn and meet Adam’s mouth full-on. Keith pulled Sebastian into his lap, his back to Keith’s chest, and Adam crawled over both of them, fucking Sebastian’s mouth with his tongue as Keith reached down to work Sebastian’s jeans open. Keith had just gotten his hand inside Sebastian’s too-tight pants when there was a knock on the privacy window.

Adam broke away from the kiss with a curse and opened the window barely a crack. “Yes?” His voice was rough, breathless, and Sebastian arched up into Keith’s hand, missing Adam’s body against his own. Keith kissed his ear as he palmed Sebastian’s dick through his messy underwear, and Sebastian was profoundly disappointed when the driver said, “Sir, we’re here.” Chapter Three

Keith was still riding the bright edges of the rush he got from performing—he swore it was better than sex—and hazy with the golden glow of arousal that Adam and Sebastian were warming in him. He hadn’t been able to see them while he was on stage, but he didn’t doubt Adam was telling the truth about rubbing Baz off in front of everyone. For one thing, Baz still had the evidence in his underwear. He was glad Baz was young enough that his time with Adam had probably been more of an appetizer than a main course, because when Keith was coming down off this much of a music high, he could go all night. He sometimes wondered if that wasn’t half the reason Adam went along with picking up a third lover, especially on nights when

Keith had a concert—someone to help wear Keith out before he wore Adam out. Energy buzzed under his skin, like blue electricity in his veins, and he was reluctant to let go of Sebastian long enough to get his pants zipped up. Adam waited until Baz was no longer indecently exposed before he opened the door of the SUV and helped them out onto the sidewalk. Baz looked a little dazed himself, and Keith couldn’t resist nuzzling behind the kid’s ear. The short hair on the back of his head was soft and a little bit tickly, and Keith loved the way it felt against his face. “C’mon, you two,” Adam instructed, subtly herding them toward the door of the hotel. “Try to tone it down until we’re in the room, okay?” Keith heard him, and he wanted to do what Adam said, but Baz felt so good, all shiny and silver and sugar-sweet on his tongue. “Keith.” Adam’s voice was sharp now, and he hauled Keith away from the kid. Keith blinked, coming back to himself. Adam’s face came into focus, stern and unsmiling, and Keith forced himself to sober up a little. “Can you control yourself, or do I need to take Sebastian up first and come back to get you?” “No, I’m fine.” He took several deep breaths, focusing on

calming the buzz in his skin, and Adam nodded in approval. “But maybe you’d better check us in.” Adam chuckled but didn’t touch him as he usually would when Keith made him laugh. Instead he took a step back, obviously conscious of Keith’s precarious control over his baser impulses. “We’re already checked in, babe. Now let’s see if we can’t get up to our room without you causing an incident like last time.” That had been bad. Who would have thought that hotel managers in Reno would be prudish enough to kick them out just because they’d had sex in the elevator? All right, so it had triggered a safety alarm when they’d pushed the Stop button, and it had been a glass elevator. Still, Keith thought it was wildly unfair that Adam, still carefully not touching Keith, tucked Baz against his side as they walked into the building. It wasn’t like Keith was that untrustworthy. They did make it up to the room without incident, aside from the one middle-aged woman who stared at Keith’s very noticeable bulge as they passed her. Keith didn’t feel he could be blamed for that—it wasn’t his fault that he was well-endowed, that his pants were kind of tight, and that he’d been staring at Adam’s and Baz’s finely shaped asses all the way up the stairs. Okay, so maybe the last two were his fault…but understandable. He’d been a good boy, so the last thing he was expecting

once they got into the suite was to be denied, but Adam grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pointed to a chair in the corner of the room, sitting at an angle to the king-size bed. “Sebastian.” The kid jumped to attention, his eyes snapping to Adam. Keith knew how he felt; when Adam went all toppy, it was damn hard not to fall at his feet. “Go sit in that chair.” A smile curved Adam’s mouth, hot and wicked. “You can take off your pants if you want to.” While Baz did as he was told, Adam pulled Keith in closer to himself, keeping just enough space between them that Keith could feel the heat radiating from his body even though not an inch of them was touching. “You,” he purred at Keith, “are going to give him a lapdance. I’ll be watching you every second, so make it good.” Keith groaned and automatically leaned into Adam, but his lover held him away, denying him so much as a brush of skin except the hand at his collar. A shiver worked its way down Keith’s spine. Dominance games of all flavors were part of their extensive repertoire, and while he doubted Adam was going to go with full-on daddy play with a third in the room, Keith’s balls tingled in hot-red anticipation anyway. “I know you’re a good little whore, so I want to see you dance like one.” Adam’s voice was low and raspy, and

Keith shivered. He loved it when Adam called him names, added just that bit of humiliation. It wasn’t something he wanted all the time, but when he was fighting to contain or channel the energy from performing, he needed that extra push. The fact that Adam knew him that well settled him and let him loose to explore this wildness. In a daze, he started walking toward Baz, but Adam’s voice halted him as sharply as if he’d pulled on a leash. “Stop.” Keith stood waiting, trembling as he listened to rustling behind him. He identified the sound of Adam’s clothes hitting the floor, the subtle squeak of Adam’s weight denting the mattress, and then the thumping when Adam fluffed up the pillows. “All right. Go on.” Keith dared a glance out of the corner of his eye, just enough to confirm his suspicions. Adam was sprawled on the bed, leaning against the headboard with a kingly air, miles of California tan stretched out like a banquet of sin. His cock wasn’t completely hard yet—and Keith had to admire the man’s detachment—but it was already thick and long, firming as Adam stroked himself casually, as if it didn’t matter if he ever got off or not. He was obviously waiting for Keith to give him a show. Keith turned his attention to Baz, who was sitting

uncomfortably in the chair in his underwear and the T-shirt with Keith’s face and name on it, his slack-jawed attention focused completely on Adam. Well, Keith always did like a challenge. He slithered into Baz’s lap, careful not to touch him. It wasn’t a proper lapdance unless there was sufficient teasing. He stripped his shirt off over his head, and when Baz’s hands came up automatically to explore the exposed skin, Keith caught his wrists and guided them back down to the arms of the chair. “No touching,” he explained, grinning as he undulated his hips slowly. “That’s extra.” Keith saw Baz’s eyes flick over to Adam, but Adam didn’t say a word. Keith broke his own rule long enough to grip Baz’s chin and bring his face back around. “Look at me.” He arched toward Baz, sliding the hand from Baz’s chin down to his throat. He didn’t exert any pressure, just left his hand there as a silent threat. Baz looked up obediently, and Keith felt the sudden heaviness in his crotch as his dick filled, swelling even further against his pants. He was sure that at this point, anyone looking at him could provide accurate measurements and an educated guess as to whether or not he was circumcised. In the time between meeting Baz that afternoon and seeing

him again that evening, Keith had begun to think that maybe he’d exaggerated his memory of the brightness and color of Baz’s eyes. If anything, the memory hadn’t done them justice. Even in the low light of the hotel room’s lamps, they gleamed like gemstones scattered on the floor of the Caribbean. Nobody should have eyes that blue. There was no music in the room, but that wasn’t a problem for Keith, who would have a rainbow of songs buzzing through his veins for another couple of hours at least. He smiled when Baz’s amazing eyes finally focused on the slow roll of his hips, the ripple of his abdomen, and the play of his own hand across his chest. Keith let go of Baz’s throat in order to frame the outline of his cock with his thumbs, rubbing his palms over his hipbones as he thrust into Baz’s face. He could see the fine tremor in Baz’s arms as the kid struggled to keep his hands on the chair where Keith had put them. Keith could feel sweat beading on his chest and arms, slick moisture forming at the small of his back and across his shoulder blades. “He’s been good,” Adam said from his perch. “Give him a kiss—and then bring him to me.” Keith smiled and leaned in, letting his lips tease Baz’s with butterfly brushes, chaste and utterly debauched. Baz still didn’t break the embargo on touch, and Keith rewarded

him with his tongue, licking into Baz’s mouth, tasting the corners with gentle flicks and a long, slow rub over the soft palate. When he drew back, he was gratified to see that Baz’s pretty eyes were unfocused, his mouth red and slightly open. It made Keith want to kiss him again, but he stood and dragged Baz with him over to where Adam waited for them on the bed. “Clothes off,” Adam commanded, and Baz woke up enough to obey, his eyes darting hungrily between Keith and Adam. It took Keith longer to peel out of his leather pants than it did for Baz to shed the shirt and his underwear, and when they finished, Adam held out a hand to them. “Now the way I see it,” Adam said with a purr, “I’ve given both of you one orgasm apiece today, and I haven’t gotten off yet. I think the two of you should fix that.” “It’ll take both of us,” Keith said, grinning down at Adam’s cock, now fully erect and curving up against his belly. “I know for a fact I can’t get that whole thing in my throat.” “Not for lack of trying,” Adam admitted fondly. “Jesus,” Baz breathed, and Keith realized it was the first thing the kid had said in ages. “It’s huge.” Keith smirked. Adam did have an impressive dick, but it

wasn’t so much the size as what he could do with the damn thing. Holy mother of God and all her wacky nephews, as the saying went. “Yeah.” Keith held back laughter, giving Adam a quick wink. “We’ve had guys refuse to take Adam up their ass. Scared to death of that monster.” Baz tilted his head as if he were calculating the exact angle it would take to fit Adam’s cock inside him—Keith could tell him; if there was an angle called “Hallelujah,” that was the one—and then surprised them both when he swooped down and stuffed half of Adam’s cock in his mouth. Adam groaned and fought to keep from bucking up into Baz’s throat, and Keith just watched for a minute. Baz’s bangs concealed only half of his face, but the ends were long enough to tickle Adam’s groin, and Keith could see from the way the skin twitched that it was driving Adam nuts. So of course Keith ruffled Baz’s hair, making more of it fall against Adam’s skin, brushing over the base of his cock and his ball sac. “Get down there,” Adam growled through clenched teeth, reaching up to clasp the back of Keith’s neck. He pushed just enough to get his point across, and Keith smiled at him. “In good time, angel.” He was having too much fun watching Baz, who apparently had something of a competitive

streak, trying to open his throat enough to get Adam all the way down. He gave it the old college try and didn’t do half bad, but he had to give up. He backed off coughing and trying not to gag, his eyes watering from his valiant efforts. Keith leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth before saying, “Let’s start slow, huh?” To show the kid what he meant, Keith stretched out beside Adam’s legs on the comforter and stroked over his hip, cupping Adam’s balls in his hand and rolling them gently as he began licking around the base of Adam’s cock. He lapped up the side and over the head before settling down with the shaft, slurping and kissing. “C’mon.” He looked up at Baz. “Take the other side.” When Baz crouched down and gave Adam’s cock a tentative lick, looking far too cautious about not bumping noses with Keith, Keith let go of Adam’s balls and reached over to grab Baz’s neck. “Go ahead. Kiss me. Just keep his cock in the middle.” It was harder than it sounded, especially with Adam’s pornstar dick, but Baz got the hang of it soon enough. Keith felt Adam’s hand tangle in his hair and looked up to see that his other hand was gripping Baz’s long bangs. They kept it up until Adam’s hips started bucking, and then Keith nudged Baz up to the head of Adam’s cock, both of them

taking turns mouthing the crown before they settled into a tongue battle at the slit, lapping salty drops of precum from Adam’s skin and from each other’s lips. When Adam came, Keith jumped back to keep the shot from going up his nose—that had happened once, and he was determined it was never going to happen again—but Baz rubbed his face against Adam’s cock, smearing semen everywhere. Adam jerked helplessly, and Keith kissed him through the aftershocks as Baz continued the cleanup with his tongue. “Fuck.” Adam’s voice was so raw Keith thought he sounded like he’d been the one trying to deep throat Moby, as Keith sometimes jokingly referred to his whale of a dick. “Give me a second to be able to see you clearly, and then I wanna watch you fuck him, Keith.” Keith arched his eyebrow as he glanced down at Adam’s slowly softening cock, still red and twitching against his stomach. “I thought we were going to put him between us.” “We can do that later.” Adam caressed his hip clumsily, thumbing over the small, dark tattoo that sat between Keith’s hipbone and the base of his dick. “Right now I really want to watch you fuck his ass.” Keith nodded and reached over to push Baz’s messy hair out of his face. “Christ, kid.” He laughed. “You’re going to

need a whole week of showers.” Baz’s smile could have tempted angels out of heaven. “I plan to get dirtier before I get clean.” Adam laughed, and Keith shook his head, grinning. “All right. Are you okay with me fucking you while Adam watches?” He didn’t think the kid would say no, but it never hurt to double check once they got to this stage. “Oh yeah.” He gave Adam a sly look through his long, glittery eyelashes. Keith found himself wondering for a second if they were falsies or if he had just found some really amazing glam mascara. “But then later, I want this in me.” He palmed Adam’s dick so possessively that something inside Keith twitched. He couldn’t tell if he really liked watching Baz do that or if it touched off some kind of weird jealousy. To take his mind off it, he grabbed a condom off the bedside table—Adam must have put them there while Keith was giving Baz his lapdance—and rolled it on over his erection. He took a minute to lube up Baz’s ass, playing a little while he was there and pressing firmly against his prostate just to get him worked up. Then he put the head of his dick against Baz’s hole and waited. “Tell me when,” he said, his fingers flexing on Baz’s smooth, narrow hips.

“Whe-n,” Baz said, his voice breaking in the middle as Keith shoved in. “Oh God.” Keith figured they would have time for more foreplay later; he knew his erection wouldn’t be going down for hours. It was one of the best and worst things about performing; it kept him horny all night long. If he was hungover the next morning, it was usually from too many orgasms and not enough sleep rather than any combination of drugs or alcohol. But he hadn’t had an orgasm since before sound check, and he needed one now. Baz wasn’t complaining; in fact, he was making all kinds of sexy, ecstatic noises that zinged right through Keith’s balls. Baz was braced on his hands and knees over Adam’s body, and Keith watched them kiss as he thrust into Baz, trying to slow down long enough to make sure Baz got a little more out of it than just the thrill of having Keith’s dick in his ass. He didn’t have anything to worry about. Just when Keith was getting ready to pry his fingers off Baz’s hip long enough to stroke him off, Adam did it for him. Almost as soon as Adam touched him, Baz tensed and shouted, his ass clamping down around Keith’s dick as he came all over Adam’s stomach and chest. “Oh fuck!” Keith had been close anyway, but the ripples of Baz’s orgasm tore it out of him so forcefully it almost hurt.

He bent over Baz’s back, humping into him with erratic endthrusts, trying to keep his dick inside that tight, twitching warmth as long as he could. “Damn, that was hot.” Of course Adam was the first to say anything; Keith was pretty sure he was the only one whose brains weren’t currently leaking onto the sheets. He’d had time to recover from his orgasm after all. “Mm.” Baz sounded blissed out, almost sleepy, but he whined a little when Keith pulled out of him, even though Keith tried to be careful. Keith knew he’d really been banging away at the kid; the least he could do was go easy on him on the way out. Keith flopped to the bed beside Adam, and Baz collapsed on top of both of them, his head tucked under Keith’s chin, his hand in Adam’s hair. “If I’m still asleep in thirty minutes,” he said, his words slurring into Keith’s skin, “you can wake me up…as long as it’s that good the second time.” Chapter Four

Adam came awake slowly to harsh, quiet breathing and soft squelching sounds. The high-quality mattress didn’t let him feel much of the motion, but he knew before he even opened his eyes that Keith was balls-deep in Sebastian again. Lucky for them, the kid didn’t seem to mind getting

fucked three times in one night, and Keith was finally getting to burn out all of that manic energy. “Hey, you’re awake.” Sebastian’s voice wavered as Keith pushed into him rhythmically, but he sounded genuinely pleased. Flat on his back, knees up by his shoulders, he gave Adam a ridiculously smug grin. “So are you,” Adam pointed out, trying on a sleepy smile. “You getting tired of him yet?” He indicated Keith with a flick of his eyes, and Sebastian laughed quietly. They were both talking in low tones, as if there were someone else in the room they were trying not to wake. “Just getting him ready for you,” Keith said, pulling out of Sebastian so quickly the kid gasped and arched reflexively. Keith stripped the condom off his still-hard dick and tossed it on the floor—they already had a hell of a mess down there—before kneeling to the side. Sebastian lay there in a nest of pillows and rucked-up blankets, limbs sprawled, looking thoroughly debauched with his mascara smeared under his eyes and random bits of glitter clinging to his hair. More glitter sparkled on the pillows, and Adam smiled at him. “Are you sure you want me tonight?” He let his hand wander down over Sebastian’s mostly soft dick, between his legs to his well-used asshole. “You’re going to be sore in the morning as it is.”

“I’m sure.” To his credit, Sebastian barely flinched at Adam’s light touch, giving Adam a come-hither look so full of temptation it brought to mind serpents and apples and original sin. The thought made Adam smile; with his name, he was practically obligated to give in. It was tradition. Sebastian reached down between his legs and pushed Adam’s hand more firmly against his hole. Repeated applications of lube had made it wet and sticky, the skin warm and a little swollen from Keith’s steady pounding. “I only have one night, right? So I want you now.” Adam almost told him of course they’d have more than one night, and he had to check that at the door. Damn, it usually only took him a couple of hours to tire of the groupies and hustle them off to their own rooms, not try to assure them that they were more than the one-night stands they totally were. “Yeah, you’ve got a point. All right.” He slapped Sebastian’s hip. “Up. Hands and knees.” Sebastian flipped over, scrambling into position, and Adam took a moment to run his hands appreciatively over the slender back and the smooth, subtly curved hips. “So nice.” He pulled on his own dick, helping it up to full erection, and grinned when Keith appeared at his side with an open condom. “You want his mouth?” Adam asked while Keith rolled the

condom down Adam’s dick. Sebastian glanced over his shoulder, already licking his lips. He’d been savagely kissed from the cherry-red look of them. Or maybe Keith had already had his mouth while Adam had been asleep. Keith hesitated and glanced at Sebastian, and Adam thought that was telling. Keith never hesitated about taking what he wanted from the groupies, leaving it up to them to tell him to stop if he crossed a boundary. “You okay with that?” Sebastian reached up to rub his throat, appearing to consider it, and then he winked. “Will you feed me ice cream afterwards?” Keith laughed, a low, wicked sound that vibrated right through Adam. “Baby, I will feed you ice cream off my dick if you want it.” Suited up, Adam knee-walked up to Sebastian’s ass, not bothering with the lube. Sebastian was slicked up enough already. Adam rubbed the head of his cock over Sebastian’s hole, giving him another moment to pull away, to say he was too sore, to change his mind. He didn’t; he pushed back against Adam, wanton and open, and Adam figured that was good enough. He held his cock steady as he pushed into Sebastian’s ass, going slowly because he knew he was thicker than

Keith. No matter how much Keith’s fucking had stretched Sebastan’s hole, it was still going to be tight. Sebastian let out a low, guttural groan like a wounded animal, and Adam stopped with just the head in, gritting his teeth against the urge to thrust. He could feel the gripping of Sebastian’s inner walls and knew the kid wasn’t ready for more. Sebastian was panting now, and Adam reached up to stroke soothing hands down his back, then over his sides. “Just relax,” he cooed. “Just let me in, baby.” Without warning, Sebastian shoved back, taking him all in one thrust, and Adam barely heard Sebastian cry out over his own shout. He still had his eyes closed, his fingers digging into Sebastian’s hips to keep either of them from moving, when he felt Sebastian wriggle under his hands and heard muffled groans and wet, slurping noises. He looked up in time to see Keith with his hands in Sebastian’s hair, thrusting his dick into Sebastian’s mouth. Sebastian took it with enthusiasm, his head bobbing. From the look of bliss on Keith’s flushed face, he was doing a damn good job of it too. “Thought I’d distract him from your mankiller, babe,” Keith panted, one of his hands petting Sebastian’s neck. Adam huffed a breathless laugh and forced his hands to

relax on Sebastian’s hips. The beautiful boy stretched out between them, taking both their cocks and almost literally begging for more. Adam felt his dick throb at the sight, and Sebastian must have felt it too. He groaned around Keith’s dick and rocked his hips, rubbing against Adam’s groin. In some ways, Adam thought with the two brain cells he had left, Sebastian’s tightness worked in the kid’s favor. It meant that even with his orgasm earlier, Adam wouldn’t last terribly long, and no matter what Sebastian said, Adam worried about him not being able to sit down for a week. But he wanted Adam to fuck him, and Adam wanted to fuck him, and now Adam had his dick in Sebastian’s ass, and it was time to stop thinking already. After making sure he had a good grip on the kid, Adam withdrew slowly, loving the drag and pull of Sebastian’s muscles against his dick. He worked himself out until the flared head of his cock caught on the tight sphincter, and then he shoved back in sharply. Sebastian yelped around Keith’s dick, pulling off for a minute to catch his breath as Adam rotated his hips, pressing his cock into Sebastian’s soft inner walls. When Sebastian had recovered enough to take Keith’s dick back into his mouth, Adam slid out again. This time, Sebastian was more prepared for Adam’s thrust, and he went all the way down on Keith’s cock. Keith shouted in surprise when Sebastian deep throated

him, and Sebastian made a guttural noise of pleasure. Before he pulled out again, Adam leaned forward over Sebastian’s flushed back and grabbed Keith by his neck, dragging him into a rough kiss, tasting his lover’s mouth. He let go quickly so Keith didn’t stay down Sebastian’s throat too long. He didn’t want the kid passing out from having his air cut off. Adam started up a steady, shallow rhythm, just enough to stimulate Sebastian’s prostate. He waited until Sebastian started to relax into it, and then he pulled out and slammed back in. Sebastian let go of Keith and howled, and when Adam felt the clench around his dick and realized that Sebastian was freaking coming without even a hand on his dick, Adam lost it. He thrust harder, faster, fucking Sebastian through an orgasm that seemed to go on for hours. Sebastian’s spasms were ending when Adam felt his own orgasm flare out from his lower back, making his hips stutter in their rhythm as he shoved his dick as far into Sebastian as he could get it, groaning with the force of coming. “Jesus fuck,” he gasped when he could get his breath back. He pulled out carefully, going as slow as possible because damn, that poor kid had to be hurting by now, and flopped onto the bed on his back. He was dimly aware of Sebastian curling up beside him and Keith shifting around. He felt the cool press of hard cock at his hole, and Keith

lifted his legs, hooking Adam’s knees over Keith’s shoulders as he slid home. “I was gonna ask Baz if he wanted to fuck you,” Keith grunted as he thrust hard, going for broke from the beginning. “He took your Moby dick; he oughta get your ass.” Adam’s spent cock made a valiant effort toward arousal at the thought of Sebastian fucking him, but he was too far gone to rise again. Not all of them had Keith’s mania to keep them going all night. “But I think he’s done for, man.” Adam managed to open his eyes and saw Sebastian lying there, half unconscious but watching Adam with a halflidded gaze. Adam reached out, his hand clumsily finding Sebastian’s cheek. He’d meant to stroke the kid’s face gently, but he found he didn’t have the coordination for it. Sebastian didn’t appear to mind. Keith was rabbit-fucking him now with short, sharp, rapid thrusts, and even though Adam was far past done for the night himself, it still felt good. In only a few moments, Keith jerked and grunted, filling the condom inside him. Adam regretted that part of picking up groupies and fucking the hell out of them—they never felt quite safe enough to go bare. Adam was aware of Keith pulling out, of him palming the condom off Adam’s dick, and even of being cleaned by a

warm, wet cloth. The gentle strokes felt good on Adam’s still-throbbing dick and hole, and when he heard a quiet whimper beside him, he thought Keith must be cleaning Sebastian off too. He hoped Keith was being really fucking gentle with the poor kid. Adam was on the verge of drifting off again when Keith, less manic than earlier but still with more energy than either Adam or Sebastian, started prodding him. “C’mon, man,” Keith grumbled. “Your feet are on my pillow. You know I hate that.” Adam groaned but managed to rearrange his body so that his head was on the pillow instead. He was dimly aware of a small body curling into his—Sebastian?—and then blankets were dragged up over them, and darkness swallowed the room when Keith killed the lights. ****

When Adam woke the next time, it was to a room awash in soft gray light and a pair of bloodshot turquoise eyes staring at him through droopy eyelashes. “Hey,” Adam croaked, wishing instantly for a glass of water. He tried to work up enough saliva to swallow, but his mouth felt as dry as a desert and almost as gritty. “How’re you

feeling?” “Okay.” Sebastian winced and then admitted, “Sore.” Adam gave him a wry smile and brought his hand up to brush Sebastian’s hair back from his face, stroking his eyebrows with a thumb. “Sorry if we were too rough on you.” Sebastian shook his head but not enough to dislodge Adam’s hand. “I liked it. And it’s like Thanksgiving, right? It only happens once a year, so it’s totally okay to overdo it.” Adam smiled and had just started to drift again when Sebastian said, “Um, Adam?” He still sounded like saying Adam’s name felt awkward, which—after everything they’d done a few hours ago—seemed very wrong. “Yeah?” “I was just… You don’t have to answer, but… You know they say you and Keith break up more than cell-phone reception in an underground bunker.” Adam snorted. He hadn’t actually heard that exact phrasing before. “I’m aware of the perception, yes.” “But it’s just…you two don’t seem like you have that kind of tension. My friends who break up and get back together like that, you can still see the cracks, you know?”

Adam kept petting Sebastian, thinking of how to phrase his answer. He didn’t want to tell the kid too much about Keith’s issues, no matter how much he and Keith liked Sebastian or how well they clicked with him sexually. Sebastian was still a fanboy, a young one at that, who might let the information slip to the wrong person even if he didn’t do it on purpose. “We have an agreement,” Adam finally settled on. “A kind of open relationship. We’ve never felt the need to discuss it with the press, so when they see one of us with someone else, they tend to think we’ve broken up.” It was usually Keith who needed the outlet, who needed the sex to come down after a concert ramped him up, and Adam couldn’t always be there. He’d been known to seek out his own companions from time to time, but he didn’t need it like Keith did. “But we only broke up once, and it wasn’t over bed partners.” It had been over Keith throwing such a fit he’d wrecked a hotel room—literally wrecked, complete with smashed mirrors and broken furniture, a shattered television, and a hole in the wall from a leaded-glass tumbler that had been aimed at Adam’s head. Adam had walked out, and six hours later, after he’d cooled down some, he’d checked his voice mail to find increasingly frantic messages from Keith. In the next to last one, Keith had been sobbing so hard Adam could barely

understand him. In the very last one, Keith’s voice had been dead, devoid of any inflection, and for a man who was so full of life it sometimes hurt to look at him, that was more terrifying than any ranting and raving. Adam had rushed back to Keith’s hotel room to find him passed out amid the debris on the floor, an empty bottle of vodka beside him, his breathing and heartbeat far too shallow and faint for Adam’s peace of mind. The ironic thing was, the press had never even known about that breakup. By the time the media got wind of it, all the reports focused on Keith’s breakdown, the rockstar workover he’d given the hotel room, and the faithful support of his boyfriend as he checked himself into rehab. “Wow.” Sebastian smiled. “I’m glad, though. It’s… I guess it’s silly, but I like knowing you’re together.” Adam pushed forward to kiss the tip of Sebastian’s nose and then down to brush over his lips. “That’s adorable.” And somehow, even after all the lewd acts he’d been involved in the night before, that was what finally brought a bright pink stain to Sebastian’s cheeks and made him bite his lower lip in embarrassment. Adam kissed him again, trying to distract him from abusing his mouth any more than it already had been. He was a little surprised when Sebastian’s tongue slid into his mouth. Warm and slow and

strangely intimate, they kissed as the light in the room brightened to the lemon yellow of an early October morning. The kiss faded naturally, leaving them nuzzling each other’s faces, and Adam felt compelled to ask. “Do you need one of us to take you home?” He pushed himself up to look over Sebastian’s shoulder, smiling when he saw that Keith had wrapped around the kid like a limpet, his face pressed into Sebastian’s back. “Well, it’ll probably be me. It’ll be all I can do to wake him up in time to get to the airport.” Sebastian looked disappointed at the reminder that it had, in fact, been only for one night. Oddly, Adam thought he could identify. “No, that’s fine. I’ll walk to the bus stop.” “You don’t have to do that.” Adam petted his hair, the long bangs and the short, fuzzy cut in the back. “Let me hire a car for you, at least. It’ll be hard enough for you to sit on a comfortable seat, much less a bus.” Sebastian’s face went a little pale at the reminder, and Adam chuckled. “Here.” Adam groaned as he sat up, his body protesting. “Where’s your phone? I’ll give you my number so you can text me when you get home and let me know you got there safely, all right?”

Sebastian didn’t move, and Adam glanced back over his shoulder to make sure he was all right. The kid was lying there like he thought the roof would cave in if he so much as twitched an eyelash, and Adam stared at him for a minute. “Trust me, if you give my number to your friends and I start getting a lot of calls, I will change my number so fast it will make your head spin.” “I—I wouldn’t! I swear I won’t.” Adam gave in to the need to stretch and yawn, reveling in the ecstasy of stiff joints popping loosely into place. Sebastian finally got it together enough to get his phone out of the pocket of his discarded pants and hand it to Adam. The bright pink flip phone sported a sparkly, rhinestonestudded case, and Adam almost didn’t catch his laugh in time to change it to a cough. After he’d programmed his number in and given the phone back to Sebastian, who looked like it cost him an awful lot not to open his address book and stare at it, Adam lay back on the bed and held his hand out to Sebastian. “C’mon,” he said. “We stayed up late, and our flight doesn’t leave till this evening. Let’s get some sleep. Unless you have somewhere to be…?” Sebastian hesitated for the time it took Adam to breathe in and out twice, but then he dropped his phone and crawled

back onto the mattress, snuggling down between Adam and Keith. Still asleep, Keith naturally turned in to the warmth of Sebastian’s body and slung his arm across Sebastian’s waist. Adam pressed in from the front and rearranged Keith’s hand so that it rested on Adam’s hip, pinning Sebastian securely between them. After a couple of valiant attempts not to yawn in each other’s faces, Adam and Sebastian both followed Keith’s lead and passed the hell out. Chapter Five

Sebastian closed the door of his apartment and leaned against it, letting his eyes drift shut. He was exhausted, and yes, so very sore. Riding home in the car Adam had hired for him had hurt, and he’d imagined the driver’s judgment every time he’d squirmed uncomfortably on the seat. It wasn’t like Adam had done anything inappropriate with him in front of the driver, and Keith had still been sound asleep upstairs, but Sebastian knew he looked like he’d been ridden hard and put away wet. Probably because he had been. Now, though, as he stood inside his quiet, familiar apartment, the aches and pains in his body were a welcome reminder that he hadn’t just imagined the whole

night. He’d had Keith Black and Adam Cruce inside him practically all night long, and nobody he told would ever believe it. Maybe he just wouldn’t tell. Now there was a thought. “Baz? Is that you?” Jason stepped out of the bathroom to the right of the entry hall, toweling his hair. Sebastian hadn’t even realized the shower was running until the sound of the water stopped. To be fair, he wasn’t exactly expecting Jason to be home on a Sunday morning. Afternoon. Okay, evening. Jason looked him up and down and whistled. “Damn. So either things went really well with Russell, or you got the hell beat out of you.”

Russell? Oh, right. The guy he’d gone to Pride with. Wow, that seemed like a lifetime ago. He’d practically forgotten about the man, but aside from feeling bad for Russell’s boyfriend, he couldn’t say he was sorry things had turned out as they had. “Neither.” Sebastian pushed himself away from the door, steadying himself against the wall. His bedroom was at the other end of the apartment, but if he couldn’t make it that far, the living room and the couch were on the way. He could just collapse there. “Neither? Shit, you didn’t go to Bread and Circuses and

volunteer for one of their sex rooms, did you?” Sebastian had to bite back a laugh. He doubted even Bread and Circuses’ famous sex rooms could hold a candle to the workout he’d gotten. “No.” And then because he knew Jason wouldn’t stop asking until he got an answer, he stopped at the door to his bedroom and leaned against the door frame. “I found out Russell wasn’t single. We ran into his angry boyfriend at Pride, so I ditched him and ran into…someone else. He had a boyfriend too, but it turns out they’re into sharing. They were both pretty hot, so when they asked me to go to a hotel with them, I did.” Jason’s eyes were like saucers, his mouth hanging open so far Sebastian thought about making lewd jokes about what he could fit in there. “No way! Dude! You never go home with people!” That was true. But it wasn’t like he got invited by Adam Cruce and Keith Black every day either. Sebastian shrugged. “Like I said—they were hot.” He stood up and winced as his body twinged. “And hung.” “Did you get pictures?” Jason saw the answer on his face and scowled. “Pics or it didn’t happen!” Sebastian huffed a dry laugh and shuffled into his bedroom. He wriggled out of his shirt, jeans, and underwear—which they had forgotten to send for cleaning—and flopped,

facedown and naked, onto his bed. He knew he had marks all over from Keith’s teeth and Adam’s hands, not to mention the raw and most likely red warzone that was his asshole. “Dude.” Jason, who had obviously followed him into his room anyway, sounded half awed, half scared. “They fucked you up.” “It was good,” Sebastian mumbled into his pillow. “But now I’m tired, so please go away and let me die. Don’t bother me for the next two days unless my corpse starts stinking.” “I think you’ve already got a head start on that.” He could hear Jason fidgeting, hesitating in the doorway, and turned his head to see him. “Um…are you going to class in the morning, or can I borrow the car?” “Where’s your car?” Sebastian found that worth sitting up for; he hated letting people borrow his car. “At the mechanic’s. Got a flat tire crossing a railroad track and bent the wheel bad. It should be ready soon, but not in time for my eight o’clock lit class.” When Sebastian still hesitated, Jason pressed. “C’mon, man. I’ve got Hawkins, and you know how she is about attendance.” “Fine, but if you wreck it, scratch it, bump it, dent it, or even so much as get crumbs on the seat, you’re covering my half of rent for the next three months.”

“What? Baz! That’s not even fair! Your car’s not even worth that much!” Sebastian shrugged and flopped back down on the bed. “Those are the terms of the deal. If you don’t like it, ride the bus.” He could practically hear Jason flounce out of his room, but he didn’t care. That meant he had more time to sleep. Just before he drifted off, he remembered Adam’s number in his phone, his admonition to call to say Sebastian had made it home safe, and he roused himself enough to dig the phone out of his pants pocket on the floor. With bleary eyes and a clumsy thumb, Sebastian typed out a brief message.

Home safe. Sore, just like you said. Worth it tho. :)—Baz He closed the phone and dropped it on the floor. He was asleep before he ever heard it hit. ****

It was Tuesday before Sebastian felt fully human again. He still caught himself pulling out his phone in class—when it wasn’t one of the professors who would dock his final

grade for every time they saw him touch it, blah blah blah— to reread Adam’s message, which he had saved.

Glad you’re safe. Sorry you’re sore—but not sorry for how you got that way. You were gr8. Thx.—AC He got butterflies in his stomach every time he read it, every time he remembered that AC stood for Adam Cruce, that Adam Cruce had enjoyed fucking him. By the time Thursday rolled around, he’d jerked off so many times over that text that he was making himself sore in an entirely different way. He’d also started playing with two of his dildos at once, testing himself, seeing what he could fit in, imagining what it would be like to share both men like that. On Thursday night, when he and Jason and several of their friends had their weekly popcorn party to watch the new episode of Boyfriends, Sebastian found himself getting hard every time Adam’s character, Jamie, was on the screen. He found himself comparing Jamie to Adam. Jamie was a self-centered asshole who couldn’t keep a boyfriend for more than two dates, but he had Adam’s smile and Adam’s eyes, and he did this thing where he smirked at guys when he started flirting that was an awful lot like how Adam had looked at Sebastian right before he’d fucked him into the mattress. After the episode, while Sebastian was cleaning up the popcorn bowls and couch-diving for the stray kernels that

would drive him crazy until he got them cleaned up, he listened with half an ear while his friends talked about the show. “That Jamie guy is hot, but he’s an asshole.” That from Peter, a guy Jason knew better than Sebastian did. “No wonder Keith Black keeps leaving him.” “Keith Black isn’t dating Jamie,” Melinda said, and Sebastian could almost hear her rolling her eyes. “He’s dating the actor, not the character.” “Yeah, but he’s an asshole!” “It’s called acting, shit for brains,” Sebastian snapped before he could stop himself. He felt everyone looking at him. Pete wasn’t his friend, and he was overstepping some serious boundaries. He shifted uncomfortably and tried to tone it down some. “Just because a guy plays an axe murderer or a doctor doesn’t mean he’s those things in real life, so what makes you think he’s a jerk?” Peter mumbled something into his beer bottle, and Sebastian decided to ignore him. He was in the kitchen, loading dishes in the dishwasher, when Melinda came up behind. She had a couple of soda glasses in her hand, and he took them from her. “So,” she said, leaning against the counter. “What was that

about?” Sebastian shrugged. “What was what about?” “You defending Adam Cruce.” She grinned. “Does our little Bazzy have a crush?” “Shut up, Mel,” he said without heat, pouring the detergent into the little capsule and closing the door. “I just hate it when people are stupid.” “Mm-hmm.” She grinned. “I believe you.” She kicked his foot, and he spared her an irritated scowl. “That’s the real reason you hate Keith Black, isn’t it? You’re jealous.” “It is not!” He thought back over what she’d said. “And I don’t hate Keith Black.” Oh God, did he not hate Keith Black. He did not hate Keith Black so much that his cock started filling at the thought of him. “I just got tired of that one song of his.” He punched the dishwasher’s Start button with a vengeance. Melinda looked like she was about to say something else when her boyfriend called her from the living room. “Mel! Are you ready to go? We’ve got to make it by the store before they close.” “On my way!” She punched Sebastian’s shoulder as she left the kitchen. “See ya around, Baz. I’ll see if my sister wants to get rid of any of her Keith Black posters for you to

put up on your wall.” Sebastian rubbed his arm after she was gone, making a face at how much the light punch had hurt. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but if Melinda brought him that poster? Yeah, he would totally put it up on his wall. And probably use it to aid his jerk-off fantasies, which so far had revolved almost exclusively around memories of Saturday night. Just thinking about it was enough to make Sebastian reach down to palm his chubbed cock through his pants. He didn’t even realize his eyes had drifted shut until Jason’s voice snapped him out of his daze. “Dude—do you have a thing for the dishwasher that I didn’t know about?” “Fuck you,” Sebastian retorted automatically, flipping his roommate off. “Do you want me to roll around in dishwasher detergent first? ’Cause I could, but I gotta tell you, man, that’s a fucked-up kink.” Sebastian rolled his eyes and left the kitchen, headed to his bedroom. He slammed his door shut on Jason calling out, “Hey! Do you prefer the efficiency setting or the extra rinse cycle?”

****

Friday morning, he bought Keith’s album and uploaded it to his MP3 player. He listened to it whenever he wasn’t in class on Friday and all day Saturday. About seven o’clock Saturday night, after he’d almost learned all the words to every song, he realized it was almost exactly one week since Adam Cruce had gotten him off to one of these songs. He fished out his phone, flipped it open, and reread the text Adam had sent him. Shaking, he hit Reply and sat staring at the empty form for several seconds. What was the worst that could happen? Adam could ignore his text. No—the worst would be that Adam would tell him he was abusing the gift of Adam’s phone number and to stop texting him. And if that happened—well, then he would stop texting him. Deciding that he had balls for a reason, dammit, he typed in a message.

Tell your boyfriend that his album is pretty good if you skip tracks 5, 7, and 9.—Baz He had to close his eyes and pretend he wasn’t doing it before he hit Send. Once the swooshy envelope symbol showed a bright green check mark, he held his breath, waiting for the return message from Adam saying, “Look,

you were a good fuck, but leave me alone now.” When nothing appeared for several long moments and Sebastian was starting to feel light-headed, he put the phone down and picked up his statistics homework out of self-defense. He found he couldn’t concentrate on predicting the Y slope from the X variable, so he threw his notebook down, got up, and got dressed in the sluttiest, glammest outfit in his closet, and did a quick and dirty job on his eyeliner before he called Jason to see where the party was tonight. He wasn’t surprised to hear that his roommate was at Bread and Circuses—the newest gay club in town with a heavy emphasis on fetish was Jason’s favorite place to be since it had opened—and he was glad to know that at least he would be able to dance his ass off, even if half the songs ended up being by Keith Black. Maybe he’d even find someone to go home with. Maybe even two someones. The bouncer at the front door waved him to the front of the line, groping his ass on the way, and Sebastian gave him a perfectly coquettish look of surprise. “Get in, pretty boy,” the bouncer laughed. Sebastian paid the cover charge, showed his ID, and got his hand stamped even though he knew he couldn’t afford alcohol at club prices, and wriggled his way onto the packed dance floor.

He’d been dancing long enough he was coated in sweat, shouting along to the chorus of some dance-remixed discoera hit with the rest of the sex-crazed Saturday-night crowd, when a hand slid over his crotch with so much familiarity that the owner almost got himself an elbow in the ribs. As it was, Sebastian pushed him back, giving him a scowl to let him know not to do that again. “Sorry!” the guy yelled. He turned away from Sebastian, but not before flipping him off. “Asshole!” He slammed into Sebastian under the guise of stumbling, and as Sebastian was much smaller, he went reeling forward into a big butch dyke in leather who looked at him like she thought he ought to be spit-shining her motorcycle boots. “Sorry!” Sebastian shouted at her, much more sincerely than the other guy. She turned away before he had a chance to blame the guy behind him, and he rolled his eyes. This was why he didn’t go clubbing as much as Jason did. He loved the look of glam, he loved the music, and he even loved the dancing. What he didn’t love was the proprietary way that some guys thought his twink ass was available for fucking. Not unless you’re an actor or a rock star, Sebastian thought with a giddy rush. And when Keith Black’s “I’m on Fire”—he’d finally learned the title, along with all the words—blasted out over the speakers, Sebastian cheered along with the rest of the crowd and boogied down, thinking that he would bet the

guy who grabbed his dick hadn’t been fucked by Keith Black.

Take that, “asshole!” Sometime around one o’clock Sunday morning, Sebastian finally stumbled off the dance floor, exhausted and dehydrated. The bouncer at the door smiled at him on his way out, and Sebastian managed to give him a friendly wave. He could tell from the way the guy’s eyes followed him that he was hoping maybe Sebastian was up for a quick one behind the building on the bouncer’s smoke break, but all he wanted was to go home. He’d driven himself, knowing he wasn’t going to drink enough to need a cab, and he took a second to breathe after he settled down in the driver’s seat. He dug his phone out of his pants—not the pocket; these pants didn’t have any—to check his messages. He’d had it on vibrate, knowing he would never hear it over the music, but he figured he probably wouldn’t feel it over the dancing, either. His in-box showed three new messages, and he checked them. Jason, asking if he’d ever gotten to the club and where he was. A notification from his bank that his checking account was low. And—Adam Cruce. Trembling, he opened the text from Adam, resisting the urge to cover his eyes and peek at it through his fingers.

Ha! Tell him yourself, babe. And then there was a ten-digit number, separated into a pattern of three, three, four. Keith Black’s phone number. Adam had given him Keith’s phone number. Holy fucking shit. He dropped the phone on the passenger’s seat and rested his forehead against the steering wheel, sucking in deep, shaky breaths. He sat there for probably two full minutes before he was steady enough to start his car and drive home. Chapter Six

Keith hated Salt Lake City. Not because he had anything against Salt Lake City—well, not except for the overall politics of the area—but because there was fuck all to do in the heart of Utah. Sure, the state might have awesome skiing and snowboarding and other type things, but concerts in Salt Lake were a study in preshow boredom and avoiding the protestors. After all, he was gay, promiscuous by most standards, and really freaking eccentric. He was a prime target for conservative hostility. What that meant for Keith was that he was trapped with nothing to do. Adam was filming and therefore ignoring his increasingly random and obnoxious text messages, and he wasn’t even going to think about trying to pick up a pretty

little boy and accidentally ending up with angry Mormon parents breathing down his throat. He could feel his mood darkening; he saw it in his mind like colors. Maybe his aura or some shit, whatever. All he knew now was that he could see his mind going into deep blue, heading closer to black. Those moods worried him, because they were hard to get out of. It was hard to find himself in them; he got lost and wallowed for a while, and when he came out, it was to find he’d done something stupid in the interim. Like trashed a hotel room or forced his boyfriend to break up with him. Usually he could keep himself out by chasing good feelings—music, sex, alcohol…any of that would work. Of course, he was an hour out from curtains, only his bandmates were available for sex—just…no—and the last time he’d gone on stage drunk, his tour sponsors had threatened to pull their capital. He wasn’t risking that again. So in the meantime, he was half-assedly playing some stupid vampire game on his phone and wishing his band would stop avoiding him so he could stir up some trouble with them. It was at times like this, deprived of any of his coping tricks, that he considered seeing a specialist, maybe finding out if there was a magic pill he could take. But if it got out that Keith Black was seeing a psychiatrist, especially that he was on meds…damn. It’d be worse than the time he checked into rehab. People expected rock stars to do illegal drugs and go on drinking binges, but

sponsors and record labels got twitchy if the words “mental illness” were uttered anywhere in the vicinity. At least he wasn’t as bad as his dad had been. Jesus fuck, that man was a mean old son of a bitch. Keith couldn’t be sorry he never heard from him anymore. Just as he got his second Game Over in two minutes—and really, how the fuck did you play this game, anyway?—the icon for a new text message appeared at the top of his screen. “Halle-fucking-lujah,” he muttered under his breath. “About damn time.” He exited the game and pulled up his messages, frowning when he saw that the message wasn’t from Adam but from a number he didn’t recognize. Shit. Should he open it and risk shoving himself off the edge into that dark mood if it was something he didn’t want to deal with, or should he leave it there and risk gradually floating off the edge anyway? “Fuck it.” He opened the message and had to read it twice before it made sense.

Hey Keith—hope this is OK. AC gave me your #. Finally got your album—s’good. Rock on—Baz “Well now.” He grinned. “The little lost kitten is back for more.” His dark blue mood turned bright purple around the

edges, and he hit Reply. He couldn’t have explained it if his life depended on it, but the first time he’d seen Baz, the kid had reminded him of a tiny spitfire kitten trapped out in the rain. Keith was torn between antagonizing him and bringing him inside for a bowl of warm milk. Well. “Warm milk.” Heh.

Hey Baz—glad you like it! What’s your fave song to jerk off to? He grinned when he hit Send. Either the kitten would go off to a corner to sulk or the claws would come out. Keith was hoping for the second option; he could use a distraction. He left all his apps alone while he waited for a reply, his leg jiggling with the adrenaline that was starting to ramp his system. What he wasn’t expecting was the reply he got.

I’m On Fire. That’s the one Adam got me off to at your concert. I get hard at the first note now. “Oh yeah. Game on.” Keith shifted in his seat, feeling a low, happy thrum in his balls—just like those deep red and orange notes the bass guitar hit sometimes.

I’ll think of you when I’m doing that one tonight. If I tell you when we start playing, will u jerk off to it while I’m singin?

He would get the text ready ahead of time, and when the band started playing, he would hit Send. The sexy orange notes vibrated up his hips into a sensual deep gold in his lower stomach, and he sat up. His night had just gotten a lot more interesting.

Yeah—fuck yeah. Shit, that’s so hot. I’ll send you a picture to prove I did it. His mood was turning bright blue now; the only darkness left was at the very center, and he would need that to draw from during the performance.

Keep yourself ready, baby. I’ll send it when the music starts. Gotta run now. XXX. He sent a quick note to Adam to let him know Baz had gotten in touch with him, and then he shoved his phone in his pocket and went off to find his band and see if they could start sound checks yet. ****

“You know what the best part of being me is?” Keith shouted into the microphone. He paused for dramatic effect and then said, “You! You guys are awesome!” He was answered by a sea of sound—all bright white and shining

gold and perfect. Despite the protestors lining the streets outside the E Center, the stadium was packed with adoring fans waving homemade signs and filming every goddamn second on their cell phones. He would probably go online later and look for the vids. Maybe he’d send a couple to Adam. Maybe to Baz. And speaking of his little sex kitten… He pulled out his phone and held it up to the audience. He brought up the camera and said, “Hey, Salt Lake—say cheese, bitches!” He laughed as he snapped the picture, his ears ringing with an entire stadium full of people gamely shouting “Cheese!” at him. Once he’d saved the picture, he had an excuse to fiddle with his phone, and he brought up the text he’d drafted for Baz.

Hey babe—hand on your dick in 3…2…1. I’m On Fire for you. He hit Send and tucked his phone away, signaling for Manny to count them in. The drummer counted off the downbeat, and Keith strutted into the song, leading with his hips. He could feel the shimmering energy from the crowd, the lime green buzz from the music that wrapped around his balls, and a bright red thread of anticipation from thinking about Sebastian jerking off right that second to thoughts of

Keith and memories of Adam. He took it all inside and wove it together into the sexiest dance these kids would see outside of a titty bar. Elvis wasn’t the only rock god who could ping the censors just by shaking his moneymaker. Manny could tell when he had a good groove going, and they looped back through the bridge so Manny could have an extended drum solo and Keith could have a few more hip thrusts and shoulder rolls. They ended with a flourish, Keith on his knees at the edge of the stage, blowing kisses to the screaming girls—and boys, he noticed with a grin—in the front row. He was breathing hard and dripping sweat by the time he stood up, and the world was so bright it was blinding. Soaring on the feeling, Keith stood in the middle of the stage, threw his head back, and yelled, “I fucking love this city!” ****

After the show, it was Manny’s job to get him into the shower. Keith was at his most vulnerable and fragile while he was coming down off a good gig, and he liked it best when Adam could come along. Adam had just the right touch, just the right mix of sternness and tenderness—and it didn’t hurt that there was usually sex to help the transition

from Keith Black, rock-and-roll god, to Keith Black, regular guy. But for shows when Adam wasn’t there, Manny was the one who herded him into the shower, handed him his comfortable clothes, and rode in the limo with him back to the hotel. Manny was also in charge of making sure that any piece of trim Keith picked up was of age, sober, and fully aware of what was going on. The groupies usually didn’t like the fact that Manny rode in the car with them to the hotel, but that was when Keith needed him the most. Manny had saved Keith from a couple of near-disasters with hustlers, pickpockets, and one enterprising young man who had bugged himself with intentions of selling the details of their sexcapade to the highest bidder. Keith had wondered how the hell the kid had thought he was going to explain that little wire when Keith undressed him in the hotel room. Tonight Manny watched him carefully as they walked past all the fans making grabby hands at him from behind the barricades and holding out Sharpies for him to sign posters, CDs, body parts. One girl wanted him to sign her breasts, and he managed to talk her into letting him sign her T-shirt instead. One young man with pretty-boy features, enough glitter to be a Cher impersonator, and the tightest pants Keith had seen outside his own wardrobe, leaned in close and said, “Will you sign my dick? My tattoo artist said

he’ll make it permanent if you will.” Keith blinked and took a step back. The request for an autograph on various intimate body parts was nothing new, but somehow the idea of the guy getting it tattooed freaked him out. He didn’t want his name permanently engraved on some dude’s penis. He thought about offering to sign the kid’s arm instead, but he decided he didn’t like that either. He gave the guy back his Sharpie and hoped his smile tipped more toward “friendly” and less toward “seriously skeeved out.” “Uh, yeah… Um. Thanks for coming out, man. You have a good night.” He was anticipating the grab and had already started backing away, but he hadn’t been expecting the guy to start climbing the barricade. Ugly streaks of glaring chartreuse flared across his mind, screaming danger, Will Robinson, danger! as the heel of his boot caught on something and he staggered backward. Two security guards were on the guy, shoving him back, as someone caught Keith from behind and steadied him. “Be careful!” Keith shouted at the guards. “Don’t hurt him!” The rueful laughter at his ear was familiar, and Manny said, “For fuck’s sake, Keith. The guy tried to attack you. Let security do their job.” Gripping Keith’s upper arm, Manny

raised his voice so the fans and the guards could hear him. “Face time’s over tonight, folks! Thanks for comin’ out!” Keith stumbled along as Manny dragged him toward the car. There would be no groupies tonight, not after that stunt. Keith found that he wasn’t all that disappointed, but he still grumbled as the driver pulled away, headed toward the hotel. “It’s not like he was trying to hurt me,” Keith protested. “He was just a little overenthusiastic.” “Seriously, man.” Manny gave him the biggest sit still and shut up look he’d ever seen out of the guy. “Some of these kids? They’re mentally unbalanced. Seriously insane. Their overenthusiastic is your hospital bill and canceled tour.” Keith turned to the window to hide his flinch. He knew mentally unbalanced. He knew how fast high emotion could turn physical in the darkest ways. It wasn’t like he of all people needed to be told. “If you need somebody to fuck that bad, I will come up to your room myself, but I am not facing Adam Cruce and telling him I let some goddamn mental patient fuck you up.” “I don’t need your pity fuck,” Keith snarled at him, angry crimson spiderwebs catching at his words as he forced them out. “I am not such a fucking mental patient that I can’t

keep it in my pants for one motherfucking night!” “Whoa, man, I didn’t say you were. Dial it down, dude.” Manny leaned away from Keith, and suddenly there was a gaping fissure of black opening right down the center of his thoughts. He needed…something. He needed out. “You know what? Fuck you, Manny. Just…fuck you.” They sat in boiling, dark red silence the rest of the way to the hotel, and Keith shoved out of the car as soon as it stopped, knocking back the valet who had stepped up to open his door. Well, there goes another gossip site headline, Keith thought bitterly as he stormed into the hotel to the bank of elevators. He punched the button so hard shocks of pain shot up his arm, and when he got inside, he closed the doors before Manny could get on with him. Shaking, on the edge of that gaping darkness in his mind, he fumbled for his phone and opened it, praying to whatever deity might give half a shit that Adam was done filming and wasn’t asleep yet. He needed someone to talk him down from this. When he opened his phone, there was a blinking icon telling him he had two new text messages. The first was from Adam.

Seriously baby? 37 texts? Is it that boring in SLC?

Keith felt some of the colors tilt toward softer hues when he imagined the smile Adam had probably been wearing when he sent that. The second one was from Baz, and there was a brief sparkle right along the edge of his senses when he saw the name.

Knowing you were singing for real made that awesome. Not as awesome as the night with you and Adam. Thx for everything.—Baz There was a picture attached: Baz’s stomach splattered with cum. Suddenly the rope around his chest loosened, and he found he could breathe. When he opened his eyes, the inside of the elevator was silver and mahogany—all the colors it really was. The stinging feeling under his skin was ebbing into a pleasant thrum of postadrenaline buzz, and he pressed the button for his floor. When he got to his room, he turned the television on to VH1 Classic, dialed the volume all the way down, and curled up on the bed with a diet cola and his cell phone. He hesitated for a second before he went to Recent Calls and highlighted a number. He was still debating hanging up when the connection opened. “H’lo?” “Hey, baby.” Keith snuggled down into his pillow and tried

to ignore how guilty he felt for interrupting Adam’s sleep. “I’m sorry I woke you up.” “No, it’s fine, babe. It’s fine.” There was a barely stifled yawn and a sleepy sniff. “What’s the matter? Are you okay?” Keith took a deep breath, held it, and thought seriously about spilling it all. It wasn’t like Adam didn’t know how he could get. But he knew Adam was on a hard filming schedule and didn’t need any more stress, and he finally let the breath out in a gusty sigh. “No—I’m—I’m fine. I mean, I miss you, but I’m fine. I just…after-show, you know?” “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, babe. Do you have anyone with you?” “No. I-I’m probably going to go to sleep in a little while. I just wanted to call and hear your voice. But I’ll—I’ll let you get back to your beauty rest.” Adam laughed softly, and Keith wished he could curl up inside the sound. “Yeah, some of us need it more than others. Sweet dreams, baby. I love you. Call me if you need me, okay?” “Yeah, okay. Night, babe. Love you.” He closed the phone and dropped it on the bed beside him, staring sightlessly at the television playing an old TLC

video. The sun came up before he fell asleep. Chapter Seven

“Yo, Cruce!” Adam schooled his features into careful blankness before he turned, looking up from his sandwich and chips. “Hey, Cameron. What’s going on?” “Your boyfriend—is he your boyfriend this week?—made the tabloids again. Seems he had an altercation with his drummer and broke a valet’s wrist last night.” Cameron Bryce, who played one of Jamie’s ex-boyfriends on the show, was not Adam’s favorite costar. Conversations like this were just one of many reasons. “That’s nice.” Adam had found that the easiest way to get out of these conversations was to pretend he didn’t care, even if he knew he was going to be taking his cell phone to a room that locked and calling Keith to get a rundown on what had happened the night before. Or what Keith remembered happening the night before. Goddamn it,

Keith. I asked you if you were okay. Cameron’s eyebrows went up. “Oh, so he’s not your boyfriend this week.”

“Don’t bother trying to sell that story.” Adam bit a healthy chunk out of his turkey on marbled rye and took his time chewing before he continued. “The tabloids are tired of our drama by now. Besides, you know we’ll only be back together in a day or two.” Cameron didn’t look happy, but he left Adam to finish his lunch in peace. Adam checked his watch—Keith teased him endlessly about being the only man under fifty who still wore a watch in this age of digital cell-phone clocks—and saw that he had eight minutes left before they were due back on set. Assuming Keith actually answered his phone, they might have a couple of minutes for a serious conversation, one where Adam made sure Keith was telling him the goddamn truth. There was a tiny cleaning supplies closet just off the props room, and Adam figured that was his best bet for now. He squeezed himself in between a mop and a shelf full of pungent cleaning solutions and dug out his phone. He pulled up Keith’s number and put the phone to his ear as he listened to the tinny ring. “Hey, handsome—what’s up? I didn’t expect to hear from you till tonight.” Keith’s sunny, easygoing greeting both soothed Adam’s worry and piqued his temper, and he had to take a deep breath so he wouldn’t snap at his lover. Chastising him

could undo whatever hard work Keith had done to get to the point he could answer the phone like that. “Hey, babe,” he said instead, going for light and affectionate. He could hear the cracks of strain around the edges, but maybe Keith couldn’t. “How are you today?” “Doing fine.” His voice was too cheerful and a little flat at the same time. Yep, there was something there. The brightness was a thin mask Keith was holding on to. Just great. Seven minutes before he had to be on set was not the time to dig up whatever shit was going on in Keith’s fucked-up head. “You gonna have time to talk to me tonight, or are you going to fuck yourself into oblivion after the show?” A shaky breath from the other end, and Adam winced. Maybe he’d accidentally brought it up anyway. Had someone rejected Keith last night? That didn’t seem right— even in the heart of Mormon country, there should have been any number of groupies ready to jump into Keith’s bed. Maybe Manny had run interference again and Keith had been upset, but usually Keith liked Manny vetting his bed partners when Adam wasn’t there to do it. Keith wasn’t normally at his most logical after a show. “No, I… unless someone comes looking for me that I can’t resist, I’m probably going to lay low tonight.” Keith’s dry

chuckle sounded kind of brittle, and Adam felt his heart twist. He hated being this far away when Keith was having a streak of bad days. “Well, baby, if someone you can’t resist finds you, call me and leave the phone open beside the bed, okay?” This time Keith’s laugh was low, pleased, and Adam felt the tension knotted at the base of his spine loosen as his lover teased, “Miss me?” “I always miss you, sweetheart.” Adam was aware he was veering more into mothering territory than they usually did, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. “Look, you’re going to be in Vegas, aren’t you? I’ll come to the show. We’ll find someone to take back to the hotel with us.” Keith sighed. “Vegas isn’t for another month. Any chance you could come to Phoenix? Or Denver?” “I will find a way.” The promise slipped out far too easily. Keith rarely asked him to come to shows, and Adam’s worry had just spiked by several points. “Sweetie, look, I’ve got to go, but keep your phone with you. I’ll try to text you between takes.” “Okay.” There was some fidgeting, something that sounded like Keith might have been cupping his hand around the phone. “Love you.”

Adam twitched with guilt. Keith had a thing about saying “I love you” over the phone. Namely, he hated it. Dammit, he would go to the Denver, Phoenix, and Vegas shows if they had to write him out of an episode. “Love you too, babe.” It wasn’t until after Keith hung up that Adam realized he’d forgotten to warn Keith that rumors of them breaking up would be hitting the sites soon. Again. ****

They were almost done with the day’s filming when Adam’s phone vibrated in his pocket. The director usually made him leave it somewhere else on set, but with Keith in a fragile mood, Adam was bending a few rules. He finished his scene, but he pulled out the phone as soon as they called cut. He opened the text without looking at who it was from, and he was confused for several moments after he first read it.

Saw online you and Keith broke up again. Not over cheating this time. Rumor?—Baz Adam laughed once he finally realized it was Sebastian, the kid they’d picked up in Charlotte. Adam supposed he really shouldn’t encourage the contact, but Sebastian had seemed like a sweet kid and hadn’t made a pest of

himself. In fact, he’d sent Adam a total of two unsolicited texts in the weeks since their night together. He remembered Sebastian telling him that it was important to know that Adam and Keith were together, so Adam didn’t hold this one against him. On the other hand—damn, Cameron had wasted absolutely no time calling up the gossip sites with that one. The knowledge that Cameron had been contacting TMZ or Perez Hilton or E! News with the false rumor while Adam had been doing his best contortionist impression in a tiny cleaning closet, trying to keep Keith from falling apart, set his nerve endings on fire with anger. He would deal with Cameron later. Right now he figured he would answer Sebastian and then check on Keith.

Rumor. Nosy coworker getting his story wrong. Not a big deal. He hesitated and then added, Thx for checking. He wasn’t sure if he was thanking Sebastian for caring about them or for getting the story straight before he believed the rumor mill. Either way, he was probably encouraging the kid when he shouldn’t. Before he could hit Send, another message popped up, covering the screen.

Been thinking about watching u suck my dick. So hard

right now. He blinked at the message. The readout didn’t show a number, just UNAVAILABLE. It could be anything from a very embarrassing wrong number to someone sending out spam messages to someone he’d slept with once and promptly forgotten. He didn’t usually give his number out to one-night stands—another place where Sebastian was an exception—and he didn’t usually keep them around long enough for them to go nosing through his stuff while he slept, but it was possible. Maybe he’d gone to clean up in the bathroom and some enterprising hookup had seized the opportunity. “Cruce! Hurry up! We need a retake, and we’re all ready to go home!” “Just a minute!” He closed the spam message, sent the one to Sebastian, and then started a new one to Keith as the director’s assistant called his name again, impatience and threat in her tone. He fumbled the touch keyboard on the iPhone’s screen and huffed in frustration as he typed as fast as he could: Rumor abt breakup untrue. Call u tonight.

Love. The last thing he needed was for Keith to hear one of those rumors when he wasn’t in the best place emotionally and start wondering. Especially since this one would probably say that Adam had confirmed aloud that they were on the

outs, what with his stupid noncommittal answer to Cameron. He slid his cell phone into his pocket and headed back to the other side of the cameras. He was determined to make this take perfect so he could go the hell home already. He fought his best to channel his energy into his performance. On the plus side, it was easier than normal to be an asshole to Cameron’s character. ****

The guilt over carelessly fueling breakup rumors about his own relationship only lasted for the time it took the herbal relaxation supplements to kick in once he got home. Feeling like he was floating on a cloud of apathy—a soft, sweet cloud with a comfortable pillow—Adam kicked back in the empty California-king bed and stretched until all his joints popped. He wriggled until the pillow cradled his head exactly the way he wanted, slipped on his expensive noise-canceling headphones, and turned his phone to vibrate before dropping it in the middle of his chest. The headphones really were state of the art, and he wouldn’t stand a chance of hearing his phone when Keith called him. He set his iPod to play what Keith mockingly called his “Zen Spa Playlist”

and closed his eyes. It was much easier to ignore stress with the headphones on and the herbal supplement trickling through his bloodstream. He’d done such a good job of it that by the time Keith called, the buzzing of the phone against his chest woke him with a start. He reluctantly removed the headphones and answered the call, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “Meditating?” Keith asked as soon as Adam said hello. “If you call lying flat on my back in the bed ‘meditating,’ then sure. Oh, don’t forget the part where I was snoring.” Keith chuckled, and the tone was already much better than it had been that afternoon. Adam couldn’t help but wonder which stress reliever Keith had chosen this time. No matter how many times Adam offered Keith his pills, Keith refused. Said they made him queasy. How natural supplements could make Keith queasy when the man had been known to have Jack Daniels for breakfast—admittedly, not in a long time, but it used to be a regular thing—Adam didn’t exactly know. “Where are you tonight?” It was an inane question, but it kept him from asking if Keith had anyone with him. He didn’t like how jealous it would make him sound if he asked, especially because he wasn’t. He would be kind of

piqued if Keith had already fucked the guy without letting Adam listen in, but that was because he liked to listen. And watch too, but neither of them felt safe with video. If it was recorded, it could eventually be leaked to the press. That much they’d learned, both separately and together. “South Dakota. Rapid City, I think. Or maybe we just drove through Rapid City. I don’t remember anymore.” Keith’s yawn crackled across the connection, and Adam fought the instinct to follow suit. “You sound tired,” Adam observed. “Pick up somebody to help wear you out?” “Nope.” Keith didn’t sound too sad about that either, which was just wrong. Two nights in a row, Keith hadn’t had a piece on the side, and even if he wasn’t hitting the gay capitals of the United States right now, there was always somebody willing to go home with Keith Black. Even sitcom actors old enough to know better. “Damn.” Adam tried to make light of the worry that was starting to press in on the soft cushion of calm wrapped around his brain. “Better be careful; someone might accuse you of being celibate.” “God forbid.” But Keith’s laughter wasn’t as bright that time; even through his semifog, Adam could tell that. “There just hasn’t been anyone tasty in the last few cities.”

“Getting picky, Mr. Wet Panties? I should have known I would spoil you for all others, but this is a surprise.” That got a more genuine laugh, although Adam knew he’d be paying for the Wet Panties reminder later. A women’s magazine had hung that title on him in an Internet readers’ poll, and Adam liked to pull it out every so often just because it was one of the only things guaranteed to embarrass his shameless lover. “Anyway,” Keith said, sounding shy, “I was hoping… I mean, I know phone sex isn’t as much fun when it’s just our hands, no boys doing our bidding, but…” Adam smiled. Maybe things weren’t all bad just because Keith was saving it for Adam instead of picking up smalltown groupies who could cause trouble. “Yeah? What, you want me to talk dirty to you, baby? Get you off? Tell you stories about all the pretty boys that have sucked my dick?” A strangled noise was all the answer he needed, and he got comfortable. He could feel his cock filling slowly, but he knew he wasn’t going to be nearly as involved in this as Keith was; he was too relaxed to get off quickly if at all. He’d give Keith the best orgasm he could over the phone before they hung up, and then he’d take his own sweet time with himself. “There was that guy in WeHo—”

“Which one?” Adam snorted. Okay, yeah, so West Hollywood was pretty regular cruising ground for them. “The wannabe leather daddy who got down on his knees and begged when he saw my dick.” “Hmm.” Keith sounded unimpressed, and Adam cocked an eyebrow, even though Keith couldn’t see him. Adam liked that memory very much, thank you. Okay, the guy hadn’t been particularly good-looking, and he hadn’t wanted a threesome, just wanted to suck Adam off, but Adam had thought it was pretty hot how this big, swaggering dom had begged like a hungry puppy for a taste of Adam’s cock. “What, were you thinking of someone else?” “No, not…just not him.” Adam laughed. “All right. What about…” He racked his brain, trying to remember a scene Keith had been really into, one of the guys he’d really liked. Well, it was a little awkward, what with the continued correspondence, but… “What about the glam twink from Charlotte?” “Baz?” Keith didn’t even have to think about it. “Yeah, that was a good one.” “We never did get to see if he could take both of us at once,” Adam pointed out sadly, and he heard Keith’s

breath hitch. Good to know he was on the right track. “I think he might. He took you three times that night, and he was still begging for me. He might be able to handle it.” “Oh God. He was so good. Pushed back on me every time I fucked into him. Hungry little boy.” Keith groaned, and Adam realized that he must’ve already been going before he called Adam. He usually didn’t get that hot that fast. Either that or he’d really liked Sebastian. “He was, wasn’t he? And so sweet too.” “Mm, like candy.” Another long-drawn-out moan, and Adam would have laughed if he hadn’t been aching to touch Keith for real. “I want him again, babe. Do you think we could?” Now that was a surprise. They’d never had the same third party for more than one night. In fact, they usually only kept the third for a few hours before sending him off; the fact that they’d kept Sebastian all night and most of the next day had already been breaking all their records. “You want to go to Charlotte and look him up?” Adam tilted his head. “We probably could.” “Or we could ask if he wants to come out to LA.” There was a steady hitch in Keith’s breathing now. “Do you think he’d be up for it?” Adam hesitated. He couldn’t tell if Keith was asking for real

or as part of their mutual fantasy. Did he want Adam to say

Yes, of course he would—he’d be up for it all night long, and we’d tie him to our bed and take turns fucking him until he passed out, or would he rather Adam tell him what he thought the actual odds were of Sebastian agreeing to fly out for a weekend booty call? But then Keith was coming, mumbling garbled half words that sounded like Adam’s name in places, and Adam cooed to him over the phone until Keith had started to calm down. Adam thought he’d dodged that bullet until Keith panted, “Call him, babe. Ask him when he can come out. Please.” Nothing had changed since that time at the industry party in some Hollywood bigwig’s mansion when Keith had introduced himself and then thirty minutes later begged Adam in dirty whispers to bend him over the stupid golden toilet and fuck his ass. He liked the thought of having Sebastian again—the sex had been the best they’d ever had, a spark that had never been there with any other third —but it was for Keith that Adam just said, “Okay.” Chapter Eight

Sebastian hated the end of the semester like nothing else.

Winter break hovered so close he could almost taste it— the whole town was decked out in wreaths and holly and sparkly lights and questionably shaped tinsel angels—but he had five final exams to study for and three term papers due. Jason, in his typical way, insisted on partying his way through finals and turning in half-assed papers, but Sebastian had a grade point average to worry about. If he didn’t keep his GPA above a 3.5, he could kiss his winter internship in DC good-bye, and he wanted that internship. It, along with the GPA itself and his GRE scores, would go a long way toward getting him into a top grad school. But all his good behavior meant that he got to hear Jason coming and going at all hours of the day and night, sometimes uproariously drunk, sometimes with someone in tow. And then he would sit at the desk in his room, staring at his notes in the little puddle of lamplight in front of him, and listen to Jason’s headboard slamming into the wall at the other end of the apartment. It was about two o’clock in the morning under these circumstances—Jason’s partner that night was apparently as tireless as Keith Black had been, and damn, he did not need that distraction when he could barely focus as it was —when his phone rang. The unfamiliar ringtone startled him at first, but then he remembered that he’d given Adam Cruce and Keith Black a unique ringtone for the hell of it. It

wasn’t like they were ever going to call him… He snatched his phone up off the desk, listening to its little speakers blasting out Keith’s “I’m On Fire” as he stared openmouthed at the caller ID. It was Adam. Sebastian was torn between answering and letting it go to voice mail. He would love to have a message from Adam on his phone— he might finally get around to bragging about who his Pride weekend threesome had been with—but if he didn’t answer, Adam might not leave a message. And he might not call back. And— “Hello?” Sebastian winced at the breathlessness of his voice, but it couldn’t be helped. “Sebastian?” Adam sounded a little unsure, and Sebastian’s heart skipped at the sound of his voice. Somehow he sounded different than he did on television or even in person. “Hey, yeah, it’s me. Um. Hi.” Adam chuckled, and that was it. Sebastian was stick-afork-in-me done. There would be no more term paper outlining for at least six hours. “It’s Adam Cruce,” he said, and Sebastian kicked himself for not letting voice mail pick up. “Yeah, I… You came up on caller ID.”

“Oh, okay.” Silence stretched out awkwardly, and Sebastian fidgeted. He didn’t want to ask Adam why he’d called, but he did wish he knew. Should he say anything at all? Comment on the weather? Ask how Adam was? How Keith was? “Oh man, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how late it is there—my time is all screwed up. I didn’t wake you up, did I?” Adam still sounded stilted and nervous, which wasn’t at all how Sebastian remembered him. Sebastian had to wonder if Adam had even meant to call him, or if he was high or something. “No, no—I’m up. Studying for finals. Um…how are you?” “I’m good, I—this is going to sound kind of weird, and if you already have plans with your family or whatever, don’t worry about it. But would you want to fly out to LA in two weeks? Keith’s tour will be over, and he—we—wanted to see you again.” Sebastian felt like he was in a movie and the camera had just done a dramatic shot with him in focus at the center and the whole rest of the world in a black-and-white blur. His mind swirled with disbelief and want and disappointment, because as much as he wanted to say Oh my God, yes! in two weeks he would be in DC, assuming he got that internship. He and the two other final candidates

wouldn’t know for another couple of days who’d gotten the position. “I…I don’t know.” And then because that didn’t tell nearly enough of the story, he blurted out, “I mean, I’d love to. That would be so awesome. It would be the best thing ever! But I might not be able to.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “I applied for an internship over winter break and spring semester in Washington, DC. I won’t know until next week if I got in or not. I’m one of the finalists.” Sebastian wasn’t sure what he’d expected Adam’s reaction to be, but the deep, confident chuckle was a surprise—and a delight. Gone was the odd awkwardness of the beginning of their conversation. Suddenly Sebastian didn’t know whether he wanted to get that internship or not. “I’m glad,” Adam said, still smiling if the sound of his voice was anything to go by. “Glad I don’t have to worry that we’re taking advantage and ruining your life. I’m glad you’ve got your priorities right.” He paused briefly and then added, “But if for some reason one of the other finalists gets the internship, call me back, okay? That’s still plenty of time for us to buy you a ticket. Assuming you want to, of course.” “I—yes, okay! I will.” “Good. And Sebastian?” “Y-yes?”

“If you do get the internship, let me know that too. I hear the White House is beautiful at Christmas. Good luck on your finals. Remember to sleep sometime.” And with that, Adam hung up. Sebastian stared down at his phone for long moments before he got up, stalked across the apartment, and banged on Jason’s closed bedroom door. The grunts and moans within quieted, and the bed stopped squeaking. Quiet reigned for a few moments before Jason yelled, “Baz? Is that you?” “Hey, Jason, am I awake?” He could hear murmurs through the door, like Jason and his hookup were discussing something. Probably Jason explaining that his roommate had never shown signs of psychosis before, but… “You’d sure as hell better hope you’re not! Because if you aren’t sleepwalking and you came and knocked on my door for something that doesn’t include bleeding injuries or the house on fire, I am going to kick your ass all the way into next week.” “That’s what I thought. Good night. Have fun!” “Jesus,” Sebastian heard Jason say as he retreated to his own room. “I think studying has fried his brains.”

Sebastian took one look at the notes on his desk, turned off his lamp, and went to bed. He obviously needed sleep. ****

Sebastian’s mother had often told him that things looked clearer in the light of day after a good night’s sleep, especially when he’d just finished having an argument with his father over any of a million things: how he was spending his money, who he was dating, where he was going to college, what he was majoring in. She’d often been right. But when Sebastian woke up the next day, he’d barely opened his eyes before he grabbed his phone and checked the call log. Yep, it showed a received call from Adam’s number. He hadn’t dreamed it after all. Adam and Keith wanted him again. They wanted him enough that they were willing to pay for plane fare in December to see him. Admittedly that wasn’t as big of a deal for them as it would have been for Sebastian, but they could’ve picked up someone in LA for less effort. And Sebastian had practically turned them down over an internship. He groaned and pulled his covers up over his face. Adam had solved that, of course, and at least he hadn’t been offended—he’d seemed pleased, in fact—but still…how embarrassing.

He really wanted to talk to someone about it, but Jason’s sleepover guest was probably still in the house, and after he’d gone and pounded on their door last night, doing it again now would probably get him killed and all his belongings donated to charity. What he’d apparently earned, however, was payback. “Baz!” Thunderous pounding on the door made him jump, and he wasn’t the least bit surprised when the door swung open a moment later. “You crazy bastard! What the hell were you doing last night?” Sebastian tried to peer around Jason into the rest of the apartment. “Is he still here?” Jason snorted. “Why, you want a look at him?” “No.” Sebastian glared. “I want to talk to you, but I don’t want to talk to anyone but you.” That got his roommate’s attention, and Jason went from annoyed to mothering in zero point two seconds. “Are you okay? Was everything—did something happen last night?” Jason came into the room and sat down on the edge of Sebastian’s bed without so much as asking, laying his hand against Sebastian’s forehead like he was feeling for a fever. “Are you sick?” “No. Stop that.” Sebastian shoved Jason, pushing him off

the bed. Then, to put himself on level footing and so he wouldn’t seem so rude, he threw back the covers and sat on the edge of the mattress. Jason took the chair at his desk. “Remember back in October, Pride weekend?” “Yeah, why? What about it?” “Remember how I told you I’d gotten picked up by a couple of guys?” Jason leaned back against the desk and crossed his arms. “Yeah. They did a number on you.” Sebastian allowed himself to remember for a moment—the sharp little bruises, the throbbing, persistent ache in his well-used body, how swollen and hot his skin had felt everywhere—before continuing. “Right. Well, one of them called me last night. They want me to join them again.” Jason sat up straight with alarm. “Are they harassing you? Do you not want to—is that why you were so upset last night? We can go get you a new phone if you want, change your number. They don’t know where you live, do they?” Sebastian held up his hand. “Settle down. It’s nothing like that. It’s…” He picked up his phone, pulled up the call log, and handed it to Jason. “The top number. That’s who called me.” “Adam Cru—” Jason’s mouth snapped shut. “You’re shitting

me, right? Or this guy just has the same name as…” Sebastian shook his head. “No, the threesome was with him and Keith Black.” If Jason’s eyes had gotten any bigger, they might have fallen out of his head. “Dude. Lying to me is not cool.” Before Sebastian could protest that he wasn’t lying, Jason had a revelation. “Holy shit! That’s why you suddenly turned into the biggest Keith Black fan on the planet. You hated his music before!” Sebastian squirmed uncomfortably. “Well, after that, it… And I didn’t hate it! I was tired of that one song.” The one

that gets me hot now. The one that Adam got me off to. The one that Keith dedicated to me masturbating for him. “So they called you last night, and they want you to, what, fly out to LA for Christmas break?” “Well, he didn’t say for how long. But I have that internship in DC, and—” “Fuck the internship! Holy shit!” Sebastian scowled. “Dude. The sex thing is just sex. My whole future depends on that internship. If I get it, I can get into a good grad school with a good journalism program. I can get a better job. I’m not blowing all that for sex.”

Jason stared at him like he’d lost his mind, but enunciating all that helped Sebastian see what Adam had been getting at on the phone. It made him feel better about the choice he’d made at the time to put the internship first. “And anyway,” Sebastian drawled, “he said if I got the internship, they’d fly out to DC and see me.” That might be nicer anyway, he thought. Not so many star-hungry paparazzi in DC; out there, the journalists were mostly after the dirt on the politicians. They could even go look at some of the monuments. Maybe there would be snow. Jason shook his head. “Okay, so…you told me this much. You can’t hold out on me now. What were they like? I mean, I saw you afterward, but…” Sebastian felt the grin take over his whole face. He flopped back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling before he gave in to Jason’s pleading. “Well, it all started when I ran into Keith, and he spilled his beer on me…” ****

Despite the distraction of Adam’s call and invitation, Sebastian buckled down and worked his ass off. In fact, the call might’ve helped. He would still be disappointed if he didn’t get the internship, but he would go out to LA and spend some time being fucked into oblivion until he forgot

about it. Then he would come back to school for the spring semester and apply for a summer internship instead. And if he got the internship…well, then he could have his cake and eat it too. Freed from most of his anxiety, his exams and term papers went by a lot more easily than he had expected. And at nine thirty on a Wednesday morning, he walked out of his last final exam and headed home. Gray clouds hung low in the sky, and Sebastian wished for snow, even though he knew it was early. Charlotte only got one or two days of snow per year, and that usually didn’t happen until January or February. His phone rang in his coat pocket, and he checked the caller ID before he answered it. He didn’t recognize the number, and his heart skipped a beat. He cleared his throat and stopped walking before he hit the green button that would connect the call. “Hello, this is Sebastian Keane.” He tried to make his voice sound professional and hoped he’d succeeded. “Hello, Mr. Keane. This is Jaclyn David from Human Voices Washington. I’m calling in regard to your journalism internship application.” Sebastian stopped walking and held his breath. Surely if he hadn’t gotten the position, they would have just sent him a

letter, right? “Um, hello. How are you?” “I’m well, thank you for asking. Mr. Keane, we have a unique situation. The position you applied for has been awarded to another candidate, but we were very impressed by your application. We have another internship that is available that we would like to offer you, but it is not a position that students are usually interested in. It runs from March to October, which means that you would have to leave before the end of the spring semester and would be returning after the start of the fall semester. It’s been known to cause issues with student loans and scholarships, which is why we usually don’t advertise it for students. However, as I said, we were very impressed with your application and would love to have you working with us at HVW.” That was a lot of information to take in, and Sebastian was silent for a moment as he tried to process it. “Well, thank you for offering it to me,” he said slowly, still figuring out the rest of his answer. “When do you need a decision from me, and would it be possible to have the information about this position in writing?” “Absolutely. We’ll mail the information package today. If you think it sounds like something you might be interested in, we’ll list you as the preferred candidate until you have time to give it more consideration.”

“That—that would be awesome, thank you.” “All right. The information package will go out in today’s mail, and you’ve been entered in the system as the preferred candidate. Please let me know your final decision by Monday, February fourteenth. Do you have any more questions for me right now?” “No, that’s—thank you. That’s fine. Thank you again.” “It’s my pleasure, Mr. Keane. Have a nice day.” “You too.” He pressed the Off button on the phone and sat down hard on the cold metal bench outside the student center. He didn’t have a clue if he wanted to take their other internship and risk fucking up his financial aid, or if he wanted to play it safe and stay home. He had already registered for classes for the spring as a precautionary measure, so there wasn’t anything he needed to act on until the deadline for dropping classes in mid-January. But before that, there was another offer he needed to respond to. Fingers turning red and numb from the cold, he flipped open his phone again and brought up a text message. He put both Adam’s and Keith’s names in the Send To field, and then he typed, I guess there are worse places to spend

Christmas break than on the beach. Is the ticket to LA still open?

Chapter Nine

Keith stood naked in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of his room at the Mandalay Bay hotel in Las Vegas, staring out over the neon lights of the strip, listening to water running in the huge tub in the bathroom. The quietly humming heater kept the December cold to manageable levels, and anyway, if Vegas ever froze over, Keith would be checking the weather reports in hell. The water in the bathroom shut off, and Keith tracked the quiet sound of footsteps across the thick carpet until Adam’s arms slid around him. Adam’s big hands, a little wet from running the bath, skimmed over Keith’s chest and stomach, long fingers creeping down between Keith’s legs to cup and massage his testicles and soft dick. Keith hummed in contentment and leaned back against Adam’s chest, loving the feel of Adam’s shirt and the rough denim of his jeans against Keith’s bare skin. “We should’ve gotten a room on one of the lower floors,” Adam purred in his ear. “So people could look up and see you when I fuck you against the window.” Keith smiled, nuzzling into the side of Adam’s neck. “We could always sell tickets.”

“No, it’s no fun unless they’re shocked.” “We could tell them it’s tickets to the circus, surprise them. It wouldn’t really be a lie.” Adam snorted, his breath tickling across Keith’s skin. “Come on, Mr. Big-Shot Rock Star. Your bath awaits.” Keith turned in Adam’s arms, pressing their bodies together, rubbing just to feel the friction of cloth against his skin. “I thought you were going to fuck me in front of the window first.” Adam slid his hand down Keith’s back, stroking his ass cheeks before cupping them and squeezing. Keith wrapped his arms around Adam’s neck and leaned in, brushing soft kisses over Adam’s jaw until he got to the sweetly curved mouth. He licked Adam’s lower lip before pushing his ass into Adam’s hand at the same time he pressed his chest against Adam’s shirt. The fabric scraped across Keith’s nipples, and the position emphasized the negligible height difference between them. Adam was about half an inch taller than Keith; like this, though, Keith had to crane his neck to look up at the man holding him. “Playing submissive tonight?” Adam skimmed the hand that wasn’t holding Keith’s ass up his spine, tickling between his shoulder blades. “Pretending to be sweet?”

“I am sweet.” The words sounded breathless, like a nervous lie. Adam pinched his bottom. Keith waited for the sexy insult, the dirty talk, the erotic shaming. It didn’t happen. “Yes, you’re a sweet boy. But you’re a dirty boy too, and you need your bath.” Keith pouted and mouthed Adam’s chin, licking tentatively down his throat. He stared at the hollow of Adam’s throat, avoiding Adam’s eyes as he said, “I don’t want to be alone.” Adam’s arms tightened around him, and Keith could tell Adam was frowning without even looking at him. “I’m here, baby. You’re not alone.” Keith already knew that, but hearing the words leeched the ugly shades of tension from him, and he melted farther into Adam’s embrace, soaking up his lover’s presence. Adam hadn’t made it to the Denver concert, but he’d flown out to Phoenix in time to catch Keith after that show. They’d picked up a third, a college kid from Arizona State, but he’d been cocky and arrogant in all the wrong ways, and Keith hadn’t liked him much. Adam must have felt the same way, because they cut him loose after only half an hour. Adam had fed him that monster cock while Keith had pounded his ass; then they’d sent him off to shower and go home while they continued the party, just the two of them. Tonight they

hadn’t even bothered with the third. Keith only had one more stop on the tour after the Vegas show, a club in West Hollywood. It was a smaller venue than he normally played, and he liked to think of it as a show for the home crowd. The band had a few weeks of vacation before they were due back in the studio, and Keith was planning to sleep through half of it. He loved performing; it would always be his favorite part of being a musician. But three months of four shows a week, crisscrossing the country from New York to LA, had finally worn him out. “You’re thinking,” Adam whispered at his ear, and Keith cuddled into Adam’s arms. “I must be doing something wrong.” “No.” Keith nuzzled Adam’s throat. “You make it quiet enough inside my head that I can think.” He clung a little more tightly to Adam, hungry and desperate for touch. Keith’s insecurities got the best of him from time to time, knowing how high-maintenance he was, how much of a pain in the ass. He’d never forgotten the feeling of hearing Adam say “It’s over” and then watching him walk out the door. He’d never really gotten over the panic of waiting for thirty minutes, then an hour, then two for Adam to cool off and change his mind, come back, and make things better.

Adam hadn’t come back, and Keith’s whole world had gone pitch-black. He remembered starting to drink, but he didn’t remember passing out. He didn’t remember Adam coming back. He remembered waking up in the hospital and thinking Adam had been right to leave him. Then Adam had been there, and Keith had promised himself that he’d never do that again—he’d never be so horrible that he drove away the most patient person he knew. He would never let himself turn into his father. He knew he walked a fine line some days, knew that his dark moods were hard to handle, and he worried. He shivered, pressing harder into Adam’s body, and Adam kissed his temple. “C’mon, baby,” Adam crooned. “Let’s get you into the bath before the water gets cold.” When Keith didn’t let go, Adam jostled him a little and coaxed, “I’ll get in with you.” “Okay.” Keith finally relaxed his grip, leaning back and looking up at Adam through his eyelashes, trying for coy and innocent and, yes, submissive and sweet. “Can I sit on your lap?” Adam chuckled and brushed Keith’s face with his knuckles. “Maybe we should save that for when we go to bed. I don’t want to hurt you.” “I can handle it.” Keith turned his head to kiss Adam’s

fingers. “I want you in me.” “In bed.” Adam wouldn’t budge. “Hot water’s not good for the condom.” Keith didn’t know why that made him feel guilty, like it was his fault they had to wear condoms, his fault they couldn’t take chances. He knew better—Adam was the one who picked out their third party most of the time, and the open arrangement they shared had been Adam’s idea as much as it had been Keith’s. Even so, Keith was under no illusion about which of them was the bigger slut. He knew he had four partners for every one Adam picked up without him and that Adam picked out guys he knew Keith would like for their threesomes. Keith couldn’t help worrying that one day Adam was going to get tired of indulging him. But for now, Adam undressed methodically, folding each piece of clothing before he took off the next. Keith had never seen a strip show so ridiculously OCD—or so enticing. He’d thought Adam was fucking gorgeous the first time he’d laid eyes on the man, and that hadn’t changed in three and a half years. When Adam was down to just his briefs, the dark blue fabric cupping his cock and balls as lovingly as Keith wanted to, he raised his eyebrows. “What are you waiting for? Get in.”

Keith shook his head. “You first. I do want to sit in your lap. Maybe not with your cock up my ass for now, but there are other ways.” He leered. “I know you like it between my thighs. Or against my back.” He leaned forward, hoping he looked sexy and not just silly. “I want you between my legs, Daddy.” Adam hesitated with his briefs halfway down his legs, and Keith felt something in the pit of his stomach go white and ice-cold, like tiny snowflakes of anxiety. He knew sometimes Adam didn’t like the daddy game, but sometimes he did. Or maybe that was just another way he indulged Keith’s fucked-up psyche. Shit, I probably

shouldn’t have sprung it on him like that. Adam finished undressing and sat down in the massive tub, keeping his legs together. His cock lay thick and heavy against his thigh, slowly hardening, and Keith felt his own cock stir in anticipation. “C’mon, boy,” Adam said, deepening his voice, and Keith closed his eyes briefly in relief. Adam didn’t look angry or impatient; he was playing the game. “Come sit on Daddy’s lap.” Jesus fuck, but nothing got Keith hot like hearing Adam talk like that. Adam was only seven years his senior, and Keith would have swallowed an entire drawerful of kitchen knives before he would have had sex with his bastard of a father,

but he loved this game. He didn’t want a daddy all the time, but when he did, Adam was it. Keith climbed into the tub and straddled Adam’s legs, sitting with his back against Adam’s chest. The water splashed around them, still plenty hot, and Keith wondered how hot Adam had run it. He’d probably anticipated the delay, knowing Keith as he did. Keith wriggled until Adam’s body cradled his just so and reached down to stroke Adam’s dick where it curved up between Keith’s legs, pressing against Keith’s balls and rubbing against Keith’s shaft. This position worked particularly well with Adam’s big cock, and Keith relaxed into Adam’s arms, enjoying the feeling of being surrounded, being held. Adam reached down and grasped his dick, ignoring Keith’s erection. His wrist bumped against Keith’s dick, but he didn’t grab it, didn’t stroke it. He thrust between Keith’s legs and into his own hand, using Keith as a human-sized masturbator. Keith loved it. He shifted, trying to get Adam’s hand to accidentally bump him more, and Adam stopped moving. “If you want to sit on Daddy’s lap, you’re going to have to be a good boy.” Adam’s hand on Keith’s hip held him still, reinforcing his words, and Keith bit back a whine. “That’s right. Just be still and let Daddy hold you.”

Adam moved again, rubbing his cock against Keith’s perineum and balls, brushing Keith’s cock with his wrist as he rubbed the head of his own dick. Adam’s movements made the water swirl around Keith’s dick, sliding across his skin. Keith’s ass skidded across Adam’s belly. The water sloshed up to their necks, and Keith closed his eyes, basking. “You’re being awfully quiet, little boy. What’s on your mind?” Keith shook his head, unwilling to speak and break the spell. His voice didn’t sound anything like a little boy’s, and even though that wasn’t the point of this game, it helped him maintain the illusion. “If you’re not going to talk, I guess we’re going to have to put your mouth to other uses.” Adam grabbed Keith’s chin with his free hand, tilting Keith’s head back, pressing the heel of his hand against Keith’s throat. He rubbed Keith’s jaw with his thumb before he pried open Keith’s mouth and stuck two of his fingers in. Keith suckled eagerly, licking Adam’s fingers, soft whimpers escaping through his nose as Adam rubbed Keith’s tongue with his fingertips. “That feels so nice, baby,” Adam whispered. He licked Keith’s ear, and Keith jerked at the sensation. “I love your mouth. It’s so dirty, just like you.” Oh yeah, there was the

rough talk. Keith squirmed a little to make Adam squeeze his jaw tighter as a reminder to be still. “You’re gonna make Daddy feel so good with your mouth, aren’t you?” Keith nodded, still sucking on Adam’s fingers. He really wanted to reach down and rub his own dick, but he restrained himself. Between the water tickling him and the random, accidental brushes of Adam’s hand and cock, Keith thought this should qualify as some kind of torture. Delicious, amazing torture. “I’d love to take your pretty little bottom.” Adam took the edge of Keith’s ear between his teeth and nipped carefully, just enough to sting. “But I don’t wanna hurt you, and Daddy’s dick is kind of big.” “Want you inside.” Keith kept his voice quiet, trying to avoid breaking the spell of the game. “Want you to come inside me, Daddy.” Adam groaned against Keith’s neck, and orange-gold warmth cascaded through Keith’s stomach, satisfaction at turning Adam on. He rocked his hips down and squeezed his legs together, catching Adam’s cock between his thighs and rubbing himself against the length. “Put it in me, Daddy, please.”

“We have to go to the bed for that, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up before we get out of the bath, little boy.” Keith obeyed the nudges at his hips, leaning forward until he was kneeling, bracing himself over Adam’s legs, his ass up in the air. Adam palmed Keith’s ass cheeks, pulling them apart and squeezing them, scratching his nails over the skin. When Keith’s ass was tingling from Adam’s rough handling, he rubbed his fingertips over Keith’s hole, and Keith sighed. He relaxed as Adam cleaned him gently with warm water and fingers. He was so calm by the time Adam finished that he didn’t even jump at the rough swipe of wet tongue on his freshly cleaned hole. “Ready for bed, little boy?” Adam pressed a kiss to one cheek, then the other, and Keith stood up and stepped out of the tub. He stood waiting while Adam opened the drain and then grabbed two fluffy towels. One he put on the tile floor; the other he wrapped around Keith. Keith closed his eyes and swayed on his feet as Adam dried him thoroughly. The soft towel even found its way into the shells of Keith’s ears to soak up the water there, and into his belly button. Adam cupped the towel around Keith’s genitals, patting them carefully dry but not wasting any time with stimulating him. When he finished with Keith, Adam dried himself brusquely. Keith could still see damp patches on Adam’s skin, and he wanted to taste them. Adam led him to the bed and guided

him onto it. “Hands and knees, boy.” Adam patted his thigh. “Want you to take this big cock all the way in.” Keith obeyed, and Adam grabbed one of the thick pillows and slid it under his stomach. Little silver-blue threads of excitement shivered through him; he knew what came next. “Lie down on the pillow.” Keith loved this position, and they only used it in this game. He lowered himself to his stomach, letting the pillow tilt his ass up. His cock rubbed smoothly against the pillowcase, giving him the stimulation he’d craved in the bathtub. A cool stream of air blew across his asshole, and Keith jerked, pushing his hips into the pillow. Adam grabbed his thighs and opened them, pinning him to the bed as he blew again, making Keith’s asshole twitch at the sensation. Keith felt Adam’s tongue sweep over his hole, leaving behind a cooling wetness, and when Adam blew again, it turned cold on Keith’s skin. Keith whimpered and twitched in Adam’s hands, trying to get away from the torture, trying to get more stimulation on his cock. Adam kept alternating licking and blowing until Keith nearly cried with frustration, and then finally, finally, he speared his tongue into Keith’s hole. Keith bit off an exclamation as Adam worked his tongue

inside, pushing against the tight muscle, forcing Keith to accept the intrusion. By the time he finished, Keith’s hands were fisted in the sheets, his body shaking from the effort of not just humping the pillow until he shot. “Are you ready for Daddy’s cock?” The words gusted over Keith’s damp, tortured skin, and Keith groaned. “Ready for Daddy to fuck you, baby?” “God, yes. Fuck me, Daddy, please. Please, Daddy, I want your—oh!” Two of Adam’s fingers, thick and rough and slick with lube, were shoved into Keith’s hole and twisted, opening him up. Adam finger-fucked him, pressing hard against his prostate. Adam spread his fingers wide and continued to move in and out, stretching him until Keith felt like he could take Adam’s whole hand. But when Adam started pushing his cock inside, it fucking burned. Keith gasped, bucking away from the invasion. The motion rubbed Keith’s dick against the pillow, and his hips moved instinctively, seeking more stimulation. It pushed him back farther on Adam’s dick, and he took another inch. “That’s it.” Adam sounded breathless and strained, like he was pushing the words through his teeth, and Keith forgot about his own discomfort in a rush of emerald green ecstasy. Adam’s arousal was the best aphrodisiac in the

world, and Keith felt his body opening up to take in his lover. “That’s right, baby. Let Daddy in. Let Daddy fuck you.” And then Adam was in as far as he could go, and Keith closed his eyes and imagined they were bare, imagined he could feel Adam all the way up in his diaphragm. Adam shifted, bracing his weight over Keith’s back, pushing him down into the pillow. Keith arched his back, shoving his ass up into the curve of Adam’s hips, asking wordlessly for

More, deeper, harder. Adam lowered his body until they were skin to skin from shoulders to thighs, and then he began to rock his hips. Slowly at first, then picking up speed and force, he fucked straight down into Keith’s ass, his hot breath puffing against Keith’s ear, his chest sliding slickly against Keith’s back as sweat gathered between them. Every thrust pressed Keith down into the pillow, and Keith could feel his dick leaking, could feel the pillow getting wet as Adam hammered his prostate. “You feel so good,” Adam groaned beside his ear. “So good on my dick, baby. Love fucking your ass. Love coming inside you.” The words spiked through him, and Keith’s orgasm took him by surprise, drowning him in a wave of raw, bright light. Adam clutched him harder, fucking him even deeper as his

muscles tensed and rippled in pleasure. “Jesus, baby.” Adam was fucking him so fast now Keith felt battered by the huge dick inside him. “God—fucking love you so much.” Adam thrust hard and deep and held himself there, his teeth pressing into the back of Keith’s neck as he groaned out his orgasm. Keith squeezed his inner muscles, dragging out Adam’s pleasure as much as he could, and imagined he could feel Adam spilling inside him. It took a long time for them to pull apart from each other, but Adam finally left to get rid of the condom while Keith threw the pillow to the floor. At least that took care of the wet spot easily. Keith’s body was still humming, bright sparks flickering through him in aftershocks, when Adam curled up behind him, spooning him comfortably. Keith laid his arm over Adam’s, linking their fingers together, and sighed in contentment. “Love you, Daddy.” Chapter Ten

When he felt sure Keith was asleep, Adam gently extracted himself from his lover’s embrace and sat on the edge of the bed. Shivers worked through his body, and he braced his elbows on his knees, propping his head in his hands. End of a tour was always rough; Adam could see Keith’s mood steadily dropping during the last few shows. The month

between the tour’s end and the start of the new album in the studio would be fraught with angst and bouts of depression, temper tantrums, and dark moods. It wasn’t exactly a walk in the park for Adam, but he dreaded it more for Keith’s sake than his own. Every time it happened, Adam feared that Keith might not fight his way back up. The whisper of the room’s heater told him the way he shook had nothing to do with temperature, and he stood, glancing over his shoulder to be sure he hadn’t woken Keith. His lover slept on, exhausted not by their lovemaking—as intense as that had been—but by the shadows preying on his mind. Closer to the beginning of the tour, Keith wouldn’t have rolled over and gone to sleep; he would have worn Adam out. Now, though, Adam was the one with jangly nerves that kept him awake. Adam paced to the window and braced himself against the pane. The strip shone below him, neon and pulsing in the night. It looked like an entire city of falling stars, streaks of light and blazing color fumbling their way through darkness. An apt metaphor, perhaps, or maybe he was overdramatizing things. It wouldn’t be the first time.

It isn’t love if it doesn’t make you want to throw yourself from a seventh-story window, after all. “Adam?”

Keith’s sleepy murmur pulled Adam’s attention away from his contemplation of the neon streets, and he abandoned the window to crawl back into the bed. “Hey, babe.” He kissed the soft spot on Keith’s neck, right under his ear. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.” “S’okay. Rather be awake with you anyway.” Keith shifted, snuggling deeper into Adam’s arms. “Did I freak you out?” Adam hesitated, but he knew better than to try to hedge his answer. “Yes, but not because of the scene.” He stroked Keith’s hair. “Mostly because I can tell you’re crashing. Endof-tour routine.” Keith wriggled until he was underneath Adam on his back, looking up with the same vulnerable eyes Adam had fallen for to begin with. They’d started out as a wild fuck when Keith was in one of his moods that Adam now thought of as a flux, somewhere between bright and dark, flickering like a lightbulb. Bright enough to corner Adam in the bathroom and goad him into sex; dark enough to give him the same broken look afterward that was staring up at him now. Adam couldn’t have invented a more lethal combination if he’d tried. And even though he knew his timing sucked, he heard the words bursting out of him before he had fully decided to say them.

“You know, maybe we should make an appointment with that therapist they recommended at the rehab center.” Keith frowned sharply, but Adam took a deep breath and forged on, skimming his hands over Keith’s arms soothingly. “It’s worth a try, anyway. Can’t hurt, right?” Keith tensed, but even though he was clearly upset, he did an admirable job of keeping a reasonable tone with only a hint of the frustration he was obviously feeling. “Adam, you know I can’t. My record label—” “—would support you. Or they might dump you. But you could find another one. You’re a star, baby. You sell records, you make money, and they know where their bread’s buttered.” “It’s not that easy. Nobody wants to work with someone who’s fucked in the head. Don’t give me all that crap about celebrities coming out about their mental illnesses. They still get ripped apart. People start talking about ‘What a shame, they had such talent, but nobody can be expected to work with someone with problems like that.’ I’m already gay. I’m already lewd and offensive and promiscuous. A diagnosis could be the last straw, you know?” “But maybe it might help. Maybe it might make things better. Please, babe—” Keith shoved him hard, and Adam sat back as his lover

struggled out from under him. It was clear from his face that Adam had pushed too far, and guilt squirmed in his belly as he waited for the fuck you he was sure was coming. But Keith didn’t say anything, just got out of the bed and went into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him. It wasn’t quite a slam, but it got his point across. This time when water started running in the tub, Adam knew he wasn’t invited. For half a moment, he toyed with the idea of getting dressed and going home, back to LA. But Keith trusted him to be there when he was ready to open the door again, and Adam had made the decision to come here, had told Keith to lean on him. This was part of the deal—this lying here on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, and pretending his skin didn’t itch with the need to be in there, watching Keith. He didn’t expect Keith to do anything stupid like try to drown in the tub, although it was deep enough that it wouldn’t have been much trouble, but the what-ifs always nagged at the back of his mind. What if he underestimated Keith’s mood? What if he trusted Keith at the wrong time? What if one day, the closed door wasn’t a boundary but a cry for help? Adam grabbed his phone and idly checked his messages to take his mind off it. A few e-mails, a note that it was his turn in a word game, and another obscene text message

from an unknown number. I love watching u. Sometimes I

get so hard looking at u I have to go to the bathroom at work and jerk off. He shuddered. Sex scenes in his role on the TV show didn’t bother him, but he wished people wouldn’t overshare how they felt about it. Especially whoever this blocked caller was; he’d pretty much decided it had to be a one-nightstand fan who had gotten his number. He deleted the message quickly. The e-mails weren’t interesting, and he couldn’t concentrate on the game, so he dropped the phone back on the bedside table and stared at the closed bathroom door as if he could see through it by will alone. Just like Keith trusted Adam to be there when the door opened, Adam had to trust Keith to open it again. This was part of their dance, part of them. This was what he’d signed on for. It didn’t stop him from being grateful for every small splash and hint of movement he could hear in the silence after the water shut off. ****

By the time Keith finished soaking—almost an hour later—

some of Adam’s tension had given way to common sense. Apparently so had Keith’s, as he took Adam’s invitation of open arms without hesitation. Keith’s still-damp skin smelled warm and sweet when Adam wrapped them both in the soft sheets, and Adam couldn’t resist a small taste, lapping at the base of Keith’s neck. Keith hummed in contentment, and Adam whispered, “Sorry,” into his hair. Keith turned enough to catch Adam’s mouth in a brief kiss. “Me too.” The next time Adam opened his eyes, Keith was scrambling over him, reaching for the bedside table. He was fairly sure the knee in his stomach was what had woken him. “Babe—wha…?” Adam blinked, trying to get the world to come into focus. The barest hint of morning light shone through the curtains he’d forgotten to close the night before, and he squinted in the gray dimness. “Text message.” Keith sounded as sleepy as Adam, and Adam couldn’t figure out why a text message warranted so much fuss before sunrise. “Forgot to call Manny last night and tell him you picked me up. Figure he’s probably worried.” “Oh.” Adam rubbed his eyes. “Oops.” Keith gave him a sleep-creased smile over his shoulder. “I

heard your phone’s text sound too. I’ll let you explain to him why you didn’t remember.” Adam snorted. “I will too. In full detail. ‘Sorry, Manny, but you know how I get when Keith and I are fucking. Can’t think of a damn thing except the gorgeous man on my dick.’ Think he’ll go for it?” That didn’t garner the laugh he had expected, and he opened his eyes again to check Keith’s expression. He was frowning at his phone, and Adam was about to ask what was wrong when Keith turned the screen toward him. “You know anything about this?” Adam had to blink a few more times before the tiny letters came into focus, and again before it made sense, but when it finally did, he groaned.

I guess there are worse places to spend Christmas break than on the beach. Is the ticket to LA still open? “You want to tell me why Baz is asking me about a ticket to LA?” Keith wiggled the phone, and Adam took it from him. “You have him in your phone book as ‘Kitten’?” Adam laughed. “Does he know this?” Keith scowled and snatched the phone back. “Don’t change the subject.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise. I forgot to tell him that part, though, so I guess it’s my fault it got ruined.” He peered at Keith. “You do still want him to come out, right?” “Oh my God, really?” Keith beamed, and Adam felt his heart skip at the brightness of Keith’s smile. “You got me Baz for Christmas?” Adam laughed. “Babe, you don’t celebrate Christmas. You don’t celebrate Hanukkah or Kwanzaa or Yule either, so don’t start.” Keith rolled his eyes. “I celebrate presents. And you got me one! A good one.” He leaned down and kissed Adam, lingering for a moment. “Hang on, let me text him back, and then I’ll thank you properly.” “Okay, but if I remember what he told me, he’s coming out here because he didn’t get an internship he wanted, so be nice.” Keith pouted. “We’re his consolation prize?” “A hell of a consolation, babe.” Adam tugged at Keith’s hair. “But if he got the internship, I was going to surprise you with a trip to DC to see him, so he was going to be your present anyway.” That got him another kiss, this one a little longer and more

involved, Keith’s tongue dipping into his mouth. “Mm, okay, hang on. Wanna text him first.” Keith typed furiously on his phone and then tossed it onto the table before pouncing on Adam. “You,” he purred, licking the tip of Adam’s nose, “are the best boyfriend in the world.” “Because I give you pretty boys to have sex with?” Adam grinned when Keith pinched the flesh over his ribs. “Or because I have sex with those pretty boys with you?” “Both.” Keith grinned. “And because you make me happy. But I might be biased.” A sweet kiss, far too fleeting, and Keith winked as he slithered down Adam’s body. “Are you ready for your thank-you, or do you need the bathroom first?” He licked the hollow of Adam’s hip, and Adam’s cock twitched sympathetically. “You picked a fine time to ask me,” Adam grumbled. “It would take me ten minutes just to get my erection to go down, what with the way you’re looking at me.” Keith’s expression went from playful to wicked in an instant, and Adam reached down to grab his dick. He rubbed the head over Keith’s lips and then smacked it lightly against Keith’s face. Keith turned to lick over the circumcision scar, nibbling lightly at the edge of the flared head. He didn’t bite enough to sting, just enough to let Adam feel the cool slickness of

enamel against the heated skin, and Adam groaned. “Game on,” Keith whispered, his warm breath chilling quickly on Adam’s wet flesh, and Adam fought to keep from bucking up. “Dammit.” Adam gripped the back of Keith’s head, pulling him back to his dick. “Stop playing and get to it.” “So impatient.” Keith didn’t seem concerned with Adam’s not so subtle directions, licking a teasing stripe up the long shaft. “Don’t rush me, baby. I’m gonna try to get you all the way down my throat.” Adam grinned. “Don’t hurt yourself.” Keith laughed, and the happy sound was worth whatever delay Adam had to endure getting to his orgasm. After the darkness of the night before, Keith’s smile was brighter and more welcome than the morning sun. “Keep 911 on speed dial, just in case.” Before Adam could respond, Keith swiped the flat of his tongue over the head of Adam’s cock. Another lick, and then he wiggled the tip of his tongue down into the slit, being careful not to push too hard. Adam concentrated on keeping his hips still, and Keith rewarded him by wrapping his lips over the whole head. Keith kept up the tongue massage as he screwed his mouth down the length of Adam’s shaft, one hand circling the base.

Keith’s other hand rubbed over Adam’s thigh, a strangely soothing, grounding touch in contrast to his mouth on Adam’s dick. The hand stilled when Adam felt his cock hit the back of Keith’s throat. Keith paused, taking a deep breath through his nose, and Adam was about to tell him not to worry about it when Keith swallowed, pushed down harder, and— “Oh God!” Adam felt his cock pop through the ring of muscle in Keith’s throat, and he trembled with the force of not shoving deeper. “Fuck, baby, yes—God, that’s good.” Adam’s fingers flexed in Keith’s hair, careful not to hold his head down, and Keith tried to take him deeper. That was too much, and Keith backed off, coughing and gagging. When he tried to go back for more, Adam caught his face and shook his head. “Don’t.” The word was barely a hoarse whisper, but Keith looked mutinous. “Please, baby. It felt good, but I want you to be comfortable too.” “You liked it.” Keith frowned. “I want to.” Adam hesitated. It had felt fucking amazing, but… “All right. You’re an adult; this is your choice.” He rubbed his thumb over Keith’s cheek. “But for fuck’s sake, don’t gag yourself.” Adam grinned. “I’m into a lot of kinky shit with you,

but being thrown up on isn’t one of them.” Keith laughed. “Point taken.” Adam kept his hand on Keith’s head, more because he liked the extra contact than anything else, and tried to relax and enjoy the heat of Keith’s mouth. Keith got his throat around Adam’s cock one more time, but he backed off before he went too far. “Babe,” Adam gasped when Keith pulled off. “Come up here. Please. I want to suck you too.” Keith’s eyes lit up, and he shifted until his dick was at Adam’s mouth. Adam opened up and took it in, savoring the tang of precum that had already gathered at the tip. Keith let Adam suck him for a minute, his hand gently skimming up and down Adam’s cock to keep it stimulated. When Adam reached up to fondle Keith’s balls, Keith took Adam’s cock back in his mouth. They worked each other long enough that Adam’s jaw began to feel sore, and he sucked harder, putting real intent behind it. Keith took the hint and doubled his efforts—he had to be hurting; he’d been going even longer than Adam. Keith wet one finger in his mouth—Adam felt it press up against his dick—and Adam realized what he was doing about half a second before that fingertip pushed inside his ass and rubbed firmly, sending sparks up Adam’s spine

and shooting him straight to the edge. Adam kept enough presence of mind to tap Keith’s hip in warning. He didn’t really expect Keith to pull off, but it was still polite. Keith sucked harder, and Adam groaned around Keith’s cock. The vibration was apparently enough to trigger Keith, and while Adam was still coming, he tasted the salty tang of Keith’s semen pulsing across his tongue. They sucked each other through the aftershocks, tongues gentle in deference to postorgasm sensitivity, and then Keith rolled to the side. He lay still for a moment before he crawled back up so that he could kiss Adam, sharing their tastes between them. Keith’s cell phone chimed, and Adam laughed into his mouth. He broke the kiss long enough to say, “Either that’s Sebastian answering you, or Manny is about to break down the door to check on us.” Keith laughed. “They’ll both have to wait for a minute. I can’t move.” Adam reached over and picked up Keith’s phone, flipping it open. He turned it so they could both read the text.

From: Kitten I can see the cavity search now. :p You’ll just have to make do.

Adam frowned. “What the hell did you say to him?” Keith snickered, hiding his face in Adam’s shoulder. “I told him to bring me a present that would shock the X-ray security person. He’s the one who took it that far.” Adam shook his head and handed the phone to Keith to answer the text. Keith flipped it closed and set it back on the table. “You’re not going to answer him?” “Sleep now, babe. I’m a rock star. I’m not supposed to be awake for at least six more hours.” “Oh thank God. I knew there was a reason I started sleeping with you.” He kissed Keith’s temple and got them both back under the covers. For now it seemed his trespass of the night before was forgotten and all was forgiven. When the phone beeped again a few minutes later, he figured if anybody needed them, it could wait until they woke up next time. Chapter Eleven

Sebastian had toyed with not telling Jason where he was going, but considering he didn’t know how long he’d be

gone and he didn’t want to leave his car in the long-term parking at the airport, he had to ask for a ride. And even though by now he was fairly sure Adam and Keith weren’t serial murderers waiting to get him alone and then kill him —except maybe accidentally, by really enthusiastic sex—it never hurt to have someone who knew his whereabouts, just in case. It was a really good thing he’d already told Jason about his threesome with them at Pride; as it was, his roommate was still giving him hell. “I swear, Baz, if you don’t bring pictures back with you, I’m going to tell everyone you went to a convention for people who grow pot in their parents’ basement and sell it to kindergarteners.” “What?” Sebastian had laughed, which was obviously what Jason had intended, but there was still a serious note in the threat. “Since when are kindergarteners a major market for illegal marijuana?” Jason shrugged. “Since you started getting flown out to fucking California two weeks before Christmas for a booty call with two of the sexiest men in the known universe.” “Well, when you put it like that…” “Damn, dude, why are you even still enrolled in classes? You’ve got two sugar daddies willing to pay for your candy ass.”

Sebastian had done the only thing he could possibly do as a mature young adult; he’d flipped his middle finger up at his roommate. “Maybe I’d rather have a degree than be a whore. Ever thought of that?” Jason had pretended to consider it for a moment. “Nope. Does not compute.” He grinned. “I’m pretty sure you can have a degree and still be a whore if you want to. Seriously though, have fun. And if you can get pictures… Hell yeah, send ’em.” Somehow, even knowing who had bought his ticket, Sebastian still hadn’t been expecting the way the lady at the check-in had given him a wide smile and called him “Mr. Keane” and invited him to wait for his flight in the platinum members’ lounge. “Don’t worry; you won’t miss the call for first-class boarding. They announce it inside the lounge.” And that was when he noticed his seat assignment on the ticket: 3B, Premium Package, First Class. Jesus, maybe he could drop out of college and let Adam and Keith be his sugar daddies. Except he’d never respect himself, and he had a feeling Adam—who had been so happy that Sebastian had turned him down over an internship—would kick his ass. He was still in shock when he settled into the plush first-

class seat and buckled himself in. The first thing he noticed was how much more room he had than he was used to. Instead of being snug up against the seat next to him, he could spread out comfortably. He had so much leg room he felt like he was wallowing in open space. Being less than five and a half feet tall, he’d never felt particularly cramped on planes in the first place, unlike some of his taller friends, but his usual seating arrangements felt like a sardine can in comparison. He had just gotten comfortable when one of the flight attendants approached and bent over slightly, putting him at eye level with her subtle cleavage. Was it a calculated move? Were first-class passengers supposed to tip? “Good afternoon, sir. Would you like anything?” Sebastian stared at her blankly, but her perma-smile never wavered. “We offer sodas, water, and a modest range of alcoholic beverages, including beer, red and white wine, and liquor with simple mixers.” Her eyes flickered over him, and he knew she was debating whether he was old enough to even have alcohol. “Rum and Coke?” He didn’t drink very often aside from beer on Thursday nights during Boyfriends-watching parties, but he remembered liking rum and Coke the one

time Jason had fixed it for him. “Of course. If you don’t mind, may I see your ID?” He handed her his driver’s license, and she studied it for a moment before handing it back. Jason liked to tease him that, with his baby face, he’d still be getting ID’d when he was forty. “Thank you, Mr. Keane. I’ll be right back with your beverage.” She didn’t take long at all, and Sebastian sipped at the drink as the rest of the passengers filed onto the plane and moved back to business and economy seating. He had to admit, it was much more comfortable waiting for takeoff in his new digs. As the plane started to taxi away from the airport, the friendly attendant who had served him his drink took her place at the front of the plane and narrated the beginningof-flight pleasantries. “Hello, and welcome aboard CTC Airlines Flight 1798 with nonstop service to Los Angeles’s LAX airport. Your pilot today is Captain Dustin McDonough, and your copilot is Lieutenant James Cassaday. Your flight attendants will be demonstrating the plane’s safety features in one moment, and we ask that you give them your full attention. On behalf of your Charlotte-based flight crew, thank you for choosing

CTC Airlines, and we hope you have a pleasant flight.” Sebastian actually did pay attention to the safety features, as he was uncertain whether first class might have a different procedure than economy, but there didn’t seem to be anything different at all, and soon enough he was left to entertain himself with his MP3 player and the few amusements he’d packed into his school bookbag. Jason had seen him packing Journalism and Ethics in the Twenty-First Century and the GRE study guide in a fit of responsibility and had made it his mission to supply Sebastian with pleasure reading as well. Of course, Jason’s definition of pleasure reading was a collection of smutty novels and a copy of Playgirl, though he lamented that, considering Sebastian’s recent experiences, the bar had been raised for finding shocking material. He had all of Keith’s songs—including a few live bootlegs—cued up on his MP3 player. He had episodes of Boyfriends downloaded too, and he figured he would watch them later, if he didn’t fall asleep first. Planes had a tendency to make him sleepy. Deciding that he wasn’t ready to shock the other first-class passengers (or himself, despite Jason’s presumptions about his recent experiences), he skipped Playgirl and the smutty novels that featured bare-chested men and even the occasional buxom female torso on their covers. His examfried brain rebelled against the thought of studying for the GRE or reading one more book about journalism, though,

so in the end he was left trying to fill in the crossword puzzle in the back of the airline’s in-flight magazine.

Thirteen across. “Traditional part of holidays and celebrations.” Four letters, starts with G. Gift?— “Oh shit!” The lady in the seat next to him glanced at him, startled. “Is everything all right?” Sebastian covered his eyes with one hand and bit back a groan. “Yes, sorry,” he said to his seatmate. “I just remembered I completely forgot to get presents. For the friends I’m flying out to see for Christmas.” And because that made him sound like a self-centered jerk, he explained, “It was a last-minute decision to visit.” “I’m sure they appreciate you coming to see them.” The lady smiled at him. “My family stopped giving traditional gifts several years ago when we realized we were cluttering up our lives with trinkets we didn’t need. Now we just try to do something nice for each other around the holidays— take a trip, visit, something like that.” Sebastian couldn’t really care less about what the woman and her family did, but he didn’t want to look rude when he was the one who’d had an outburst of profanity. “That’s a nice idea. I guess I’ll figure something out. Sorry to bother you.”

He smiled at her and put his earbuds in, cranking up Keith’s album. That just made him keep thinking about the gifts he didn’t have, though, so he ended up switching to a different playlist. There was nothing he could do about buying presents at this point unless he wanted to order something ridiculous and overpriced from the in-flight magazine catalog, so he might as well not think about it until they landed in LA. ****

He resisted the lure of the airport’s gift shop by telling himself that not only could he not even remotely afford anything that would be appropriate for a television heartthrob and a rock star, he probably wouldn’t find anything in the airport anyway. If he’d thought about it while he was still in Charlotte, he might have excused buying a little trinket with the city’s name on it as a kind of touristy thing, but Adam and Keith lived in Los Angeles. They had no use for an “I Heart LA” shot glass. Besides, gifts might imply intimacy, might say he was reading too much into things. This was just sex. Just a really elaborate, expensive booty call, as Jason had put it. There was no need for presents. The awkward, nervous feelings didn’t fade when he saw the hired driver holding up a sign with his name printed on it.

Adam and Keith couldn’t pick him up at the airport for obvious reasons, and it was nice not to have to worry about finding a taxi service and convincing the driver that yes, he did mean that particular Beverly Hills address, but it still felt weird. Especially when the driver held out his hand for Sebastian’s luggage and said smoothly, “Mr. Keane, welcome to Los Angeles. How was your flight?” “Fine, thank you.” Sebastian handed over his suitcase gracelessly. He wasn’t used to anyone else handling his things. They didn’t say another word to each other until the car pulled up in front of a sprawling, intimidating house. The gate swung open silently—Sebastian didn’t know why he had expected it to creak—and closed behind them. The driver got out and brought Sebastian’s suitcase to him from the trunk, handing it off with a smile and a “Happy holidays, Mr. Keane.” Sebastian was uncertain about whether he should tip the man, but he assumed Adam would have taken care of that already. “Thank you. Happy holidays to you as well.” And then it was just him and this great big house. Wouldn’t he feel like an idiot if he got to the door and nobody was home? He pressed the doorbell button, and the chiming sound landed in his stomach like a rock. A house this big, maybe they had staff. What if the butler took one look at him in his tight I TAUGHT YOUR BOYFRIEND THAT THING YOU LIKE shirt and his stylishly ripped jeans and sent him

packing? Maybe he should have told the driver to wait. He definitely wasn’t expecting Keith to answer the door in a pair of clingy, wet Speedos and nothing else. “Kitten! You’re here! Go put your bags in your room and come get in the hot tub with us.” Keith leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Sebastian stared, so shocked he couldn’t even protest the nickname, and Keith finally seemed to clue in. “Oh, sorry, you don’t actually know where any of that is, do you?” A wink and a smile, and Keith stepped back to let him into the house. “Well, come with me. I’ll show you.” Sebastian tried not to gawk as he followed Keith up a massive staircase to the second floor. Keith showed him into a lush room with a huge, soft bed and gestured. “You can put your things in here. This is your room. Obviously, you’re welcome to stay in our room as much as you want, but we thought you might like to have your own space.” Keith hovered in the doorway, looking like he was going to eat Sebastian alive. “You’re welcome to change into a bathing suit, if you brought one, but au naturel is fine too.” He smirked and snapped the waistband on his wet Speedos. “I’m only wearing this ’cause I knew I was going to be answering the door.” Sebastian finally found his tongue. “I, uh, didn’t bring a

swimsuit, so…” “Awesome!” Keith stripped his Speedos off right there, and Sebastian lost his capacity for speech all over again. “The Jacuzzi is downstairs in the solarium. Adam’s already there. Do you want me to stick around and play tour guide, or would you rather have some privacy and find it yourself?” Sebastian almost asked for privacy, but then he thought of how ridiculous that was. As if he hadn’t spent all night and half a day naked in Keith and Adam’s bed already, getting fucked silly. Still, he hadn’t expected to be stripping within fifteen minutes of walking in the door. “No, I’ll—hang on, let me get out of these clothes.” “That’s the spirit.” Keith leaned against the door frame, unabashedly ogling him as he shimmied out of his clothes. He folded them self-consciously, leaving them on the foot of the bed, and then he was facing Keith, his cock unable to decide whether it wanted to rise at the sight of Keith Black eye-fucking him or crawl up inside his body and hide from sheer embarrassment. “God, you’re pretty.” Keith looked him up and down again, and Sebastian’s dick finally made up its mind, starting to fill. “I’d forgotten how gorgeous you really are. C’mon, let’s go remind Adam.” Sebastian had plenty of time to ogle Keith’s bare ass as he

followed the man down to the solarium—A solarium, for fuck’s sake!—where the hot tub was. Keith dropped his wet Speedos into a wicker hamper in a bathroom as they passed, and then he was opening the door to a glassed-in room with a view of a beautiful backyard. Well-manicured gardens surrounded a pool area that looked inviting even in the depth of winter…or probably would if it wasn’t pouring rain. What really caught Sebastian’s eye, however, was the huge hot tub and the man reclining in it. Adam’s hair was dark and wet, slicked back from his face, and droplets of water sparkled on his tanned shoulders. “Hi, Sebastian.” Adam grinned. “I’m glad you made it. Sorry about your internship, though.” That was the first Sebastian had even thought about the internship since before the plane had touched down at LAX. Maybe this trip had been a better idea than he’d realized. At least he wasn’t sitting at home moping. “Thank you. Thanks for inviting me.” Keith clambered into the hot tub and kissed Adam before sprawling next to him and gesturing to Sebastian. “C’mon, kitten. We only bite where you like it.” Sebastian rolled his eyes at Keith and climbed into the tub. The water was exactly the right temperature, and he found a

spot where the water jets hit him just right against his thighs and back. It was a delicious massage, and Sebastian closed his eyes, relaxing back into the warm, pulsing water. “I think he likes it.” Keith chuckled, and Sebastian cracked open one eye to look at him. “I think you’re right.” Adam smiled warmly, one muscled arm slung over Keith’s shoulder. Sebastian watched them from across the tub, noting the contrasts between them—Adam warm and golden like summer sunshine and sand, Keith dark and yet somehow sparkling, like fireworks at night. They fit together so perfectly, and Sebastian was amazed that they wanted him at all, much less enough to fly him out to LA for a weekend. “I think he should come over here and show us how much he likes it.” Keith leered at him, and Adam stroked the skin under Keith’s ear. “Give him time to settle in, babe.” Keith leaned into the caress, and Adam rewarded him with a kiss to his temple, holding Sebastian’s gaze the whole time. “He just got here. You can suck his dick after he’s had a chance to get his bearings.” Keith pouted, but it was a playful expression, and Sebastian suddenly felt a lot more at ease. This was a bit closer to what he remembered: Keith wild and

mischievous, Adam cool and seductive. Despite the expensively decorated house he was sitting in, he was suddenly aware of them as people, as the men who had used his body so skillfully and tenderly two and a half months earlier, and not as their celebrity personas. He relaxed into the pulsating water jets, comfortable enough with the moment to let his eyes drift closed. That was his first mistake. His second was not reacting when a foot brushed his ankle and then went higher up his leg. He didn’t have time to make a third mistake; his lap was full of wet, horny, impatient rock star, and he heard Adam laughing as Keith bent down to brush his open mouth over Sebastian’s lips. Naked with nothing but hot, swirling water between them, Sebastian was acutely aware of the way his cock swelled, lifting toward Keith’s body. “Have you had time to settle in and get your bearings yet?” Keith murmured. His wet hand pushed through Sebastian’s hair, securing Sebastian’s long bangs behind his ear. “Because I’ve been waiting for you to get here for two weeks, and I want to see if you taste as good as I remember.” “Yeah.” The word came out as barely a breath, and Sebastian cleared his throat. “Oh, yeah.”

Chapter Twelve

Keith could feel Adam’s gaze on him as he groped Baz, playing at deep kisses and bold hands before backing away, teasing the small, tight body beneath him. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Baz he’d forgotten how pretty he was. In fact, he’d started wondering if he’d only imagined the boy’s good looks, if his memory was tainted by the euphoric colors of that performance. It had been a damn good concert that night, and Adam had been there, which always made things that much better. It wouldn’t have been a stretch for his memory to be exaggerating. But no, if anything, Keith’s memory had dimmed and downplayed it. Baz was gorgeous. “Bring him over here, babe.” Adam’s voice was low and raspy, vibrating through Keith’s body with a deep green rumble. Keith obeyed, leaning back and pulling Baz with him. Adam’s hands caught him and guided him back until Keith was seated beside Adam, wet skin pressed tightly against him from shoulder to knee, and Baz was stretched across their laps, straddling their legs. Adam nibbled at the left side of Baz’s neck, and Keith took it as a cue to lick up the right side. Baz shuddered between them, one hand tightening on Keith’s shoulder. The other was splayed

across Adam’s chest. “So sweet,” Adam murmured. The candy-cane ripple of his voice made Keith want to taste it, so he licked across the arch of Baz’s throat until he found Adam’s mouth. He licked Adam’s tongue where it was lapping at Baz’s skin, tasting both of them at once. The salty flavor burst across his palate, and he groaned as he felt his dick go from hard to painful. “Jesus.” He barely registered Baz’s voice before there was another tongue licking at his and Adam’s mouths, and Jesus fucking Christ, why hadn’t they tried this before? It was awkward and sloppy and messy and so fucking hot Keith had to reach down to grab his cock around the base so he wouldn’t come before the fun started. “I think we need to move.” Adam didn’t sound convinced of his own argument, and Keith homed in on the weakness, reaching over to tug Adam’s dick. The water made it oddly weightless, and he had to grip harder to feel like he was getting a good hold. “To the bed.” “I don’t want to move.” Baz squeezed their legs between his thighs for emphasis, and Keith felt the press and rub of Baz’s balls and dick in the groove between his leg and Adam’s. “This would be really hard without the water.” “Feels pretty hard even with the water.” Keith snickered,

unable to resist the pun. Adam flicked his ear, which was just juvenile enough to be an appropriate punishment. Adam still hesitated, obviously thinking of the dangerous possibilities of free-floating semen in the water, but he was apparently as powerless to resist Baz as Keith was. “All right.” He slipped a hand behind Baz’s back, and Keith felt Baz’s hips jerk against them. “Ride our thighs, baby, just like you rode me the first time.” Baz groaned and bucked his hips, his head lolling back to expose his slender neck. The skin of his chest was flushing pink with the heat of the water, and red splotches were creeping down his neck from the rush of arousal. Keith thought he looked like he should taste like strawberries, but when he leaned forward and licked over the rose-mottled skin, it tasted like salt with a faint hint of chlorine. Baz groaned when Keith found his nipple and sucked on it, pressing against it hard with his tongue. “Oh God, yeah, fuck me,” Baz said breathlessly, and Keith let his hand drift down to Baz’s ass, smiling when he found Adam’s hand already there, confirming his suspicions. Adam had worked one finger into Baz’s ass and was thrusting so slowly as to be mostly rubbing. Keith moved carefully to slide his own finger in next to Adam’s, and Baz trembled hard in their arms. It wasn’t quite dry, not with the warm water making their skin

slippery, but water wasn’t lube, and the slide wasn’t as smooth as it could’ve been. Baz took it without complaining, though, pushing his ass down onto their fingers and then rocking forward to thrust his cock into the channel between their thighs. Keith tried to prod Baz farther into their laps. It took him a moment, but Baz got the picture and shifted up so that one knee was pressing into Adam’s crotch, the other into Keith’s. The bony kneecap was almost too much against Keith’s hard dick, but he squirmed until the pressure was on the good side of painful. Baz was much more conservative with his thrusts now, and Keith was profoundly grateful. Keith brought his free hand to Baz’s dick and pressed it down into the space where Keith’s leg met Adam’s, making it easier for Baz to get friction as he thrust into the groove. Baz let out a deep groan, and Keith shivered. Adam’s finger was hot against his inside Baz, and the wet sounds of Adam’s mouth against Baz’s nipple made Keith want to find something tight and hot to thrust his dick into. Maybe moving to the bed wasn’t such a terrible idea after all. But Baz’s hips were stuttering now, like he was on the verge of coming, and Keith would never be so cruel as to interrupt a man on the verge of orgasm. Especially not when that man was making the sexiest goddamn noises he’d ever heard. Baz ground his hips down into Keith’s and

Adam’s thighs, and a burst of something hotter than the water tickled Keith’s leg and the palm of his hand. Baz folded forward, his face pressing into their upper arms as he panted through the aftershocks. His breath was cold against the moisture on Keith’s arm, and Keith felt gooseflesh rise in its wake. Adam slipped his finger carefully from Baz’s hole, drawing another groan, and Keith wiggled his finger around inside for a moment to feel Baz’s reflexive twitch before he pulled out too. Baz shifted, seeming uncomfortable, and Adam helped him move so that his butt was resting on Keith’s lap, his torso curled against Adam’s chest. “Bed now?” Adam stroked one hand down Baz’s sternum to his stomach where he found Keith’s hand and linked their fingers together. “Mm-hmm.” Baz seemed much less inclined to argue now that he’d orgasmed, and Keith chuckled. He and Adam had an agreement that they wouldn’t make any important decisions right after sex for exactly that reason. They managed to get Baz on his feet, although he was pliant and sleepy and almost too relaxed to stand. With some effort, they coaxed him out of the hot tub, dried him off, and herded him upstairs, tucked securely between them.

“I think if he could, he would have rolled over and gone to sleep,” Keith commented over Baz’s head. Adam laughed when Baz didn’t even bother defending himself. Adam hesitated when they passed the guest room where Baz had put his suitcase, but they kept going until they got to the master bedroom that Keith and Adam shared. They got Baz into the bed, pulling the cool sheets up over his naked body. His eyelids fluttered open, bright slivers of turquoise showing beneath long, dark lashes, and Keith was reminded sharply that he hadn’t come yet. The cool air against his skin when he’d gotten out of the hot tub had leached away some of the urgency, but watching Baz wet his pouty lips with that sweet pink tongue sent the blood rushing back to his dick, making it heavy and hard, like a goddamn baseball bat between his legs. He turned to Adam, his lover’s body backlit by their bedside lamp, and reached for him. Keith’s hand skimmed along Adam’s arm, fingertips tickling down over Adam’s palms and back up over his wrists. “Babe.” His voice was hoarse, scratchy, and he cleared his throat to try again. “Can I fuck you? Please?” The look Adam turned on him was heated, and Adam nodded without saying a word. He crawled up onto the bed, nudging Baz over, and Keith climbed up behind him. Baz’s eyes were open more now, waking up as he took interest in what was going on.

“Just put it in, Keith.” Adam was on his elbows and knees, his head resting on a thin pillow, his hips in the air. “Hurry.” Adam loved foreplay, so to hear him that desperate for a fuck—for Keith—made Keith’s hands shake as he grabbed the lube and condom out of the bedside table. A small dollop under the condom to make it more comfortable, more on the outside of the condom for Adam, and then two fingers in Adam’s hole to spread the rest of the slickness and stretch him. Keith’s dick wasn’t as thick as Adam’s, though it was almost as long, but Adam didn’t bottom as often as Keith did. Baz rolled onto his side and propped his head up on one hand, watching with interest as Keith grabbed Adam’s hips and lined himself up. Holding his cock steady with one hand, he pushed slowly until the head popped in. Adam groaned and twitched away, and Keith held still. Baz, apparently having given up sleeping for the live porn going on in front of him, reached underneath Adam and fondled his cock and balls. Keith felt the butterfly brush of fingertips against his shaft as Sebastian explored Adam’s skin. A moment later, the touch was back, firmer now, Sebastian’s fingers scissoring around Keith’s dick and pressing into Adam’s ass on either side. Adam groaned louder, the sound bursting into Keith’s mind in a tangle of bright blue and purple, and Baz started working himself underneath Adam’s body as Keith pushed

in ever deeper. Right about the time Baz got his head under Adam’s hips, Keith bottomed out inside his lover, his balls bumping against Baz’s knuckles, Baz’s fingers trapped between Keith’s groin and Adam’s ass. Adam made a strangled noise, and from the wet, muffled moans beneath him, Keith figured that Baz had just taken Adam’s dick into his mouth. He was still careful as he pulled out and then thrust into Adam again, not wanting to shove that massive cock too deep into Baz’s throat without warning. Baz’s fingers stayed where they were, tightening around Keith’s dick as he pulled out, loosening and pulling open Adam’s hole when Keith thrust back in. Keith watched through slitted eyes when Adam tugged Baz’s hips around so that they were in a sixty-nine as Keith fucked deeper into Adam. Then it was too much to watch, and Keith couldn’t keep his eyes open when multicolored fireworks exploded inside his brain. He was aware of Adam tightening around him, but he didn’t know anything outside the heated rush of pleasure in his blood until the swirl of colors melted away as tension leaked out of his body. When he finally came back to himself, Baz had wiggled out from under Adam’s body and reclined against the pillows, his cock lying limply against his thigh, shiny with spit and traces of cum. Baz’s fingers trailed up Adam’s arm, skimming over his shoulder and neck before tickling down

over his chest. Under Keith on his hands and knees, Adam was gasping for breath, and Keith reached around his hips to see if he was still hard. Adam’s cock was as wet as Baz’s looked— half-hard but softening—and Adam pushed him away with a hissed breath when Keith touched his skin. Still sensitive, then. Keith was careful when he pulled out, holding the condom with one hand and stroking Adam’s hip with the other. He’d actually planned on maybe having an hour or so of conversation with Baz before they got right back into the sex, but the anticipation of his not-Christmas present had been enough to not only ward off the typical posttour depression all these weeks, it had kept him in a state of elevated bliss…and arousal. He almost felt like he should apologize, but Baz was smiling, his features all fuzzy and soft with afterglow, and Adam was shaking under Keith’s hands as he sucked air into his lungs, his sides heaving for breath. What the hell did he have to apologize for? Besides, Baz was there for at least a couple of days, so they would have plenty of time to talk. It wasn’t like they could have sex 24-7, at least not without chemical help. The colors had faded into soft green and baby blue, pale and comforting and not nearly as overwhelming as the

kaleidoscope that had accompanied his orgasm. They made him sleepy, made him feel young and small and secure, and he lay down behind Adam and reached over to touch Baz—who was younger and smaller, and who had wrapped himself in Adam’s arms. A cold, sharp feeling the color of ice—deceptively clear but clouded and distorted in some places—settled into his stomach, and he clutched both his lovers tighter in reaction. He’d told Adam once that he thought whoever hardwired him had completely forgotten to hook up the jealousy connection. Not once in any relationship, especially this one with Adam, had he ever felt any spark of such an emotion. Until now. Chapter Thirteen

Adam was sitting at the small table in the breakfast nook, nursing a cup of coffee and skimming the headlines in the LA Times when he heard the soft sound of bare feet on the stairs. Since Keith had been dead to the world only twenty minutes ago and the footsteps weren’t accompanied by bitching and grumbling about how it was too damn early to be awake, Adam figured it must be their guest. “Good morning.” Sebastian’s voice was tentative in the hushed room, as if he didn’t want to disturb Adam’s

silence. “Morning.” Adam kept his own voice quiet to match Sebastian’s and smiled at the kid. “There’s coffee in the kitchen. Mugs are in the cabinet above the coffeemaker, if you want some. Sugar’s in the canister behind the maker. Cream’s in the fridge.” Adam watched over the edge of the paper as Sebastian shuffled into the kitchen and went about making himself a cup of coffee. As Adam had expected, it ended up being mostly sugar and cream with the coffee poured in as an afterthought. He hid a smile in his mug as he took another drink of his own coffee, feeling a twitch low in his stomach when Sebastian groaned in pleasure at the first sip of creamy, sugary caffeine. Sebastian brought his confection over to the table and slid into the chair across from Adam. Adam offered him the paper, and Sebastian hesitated for a moment before he took the National News section, surprising Adam, who had honestly expected him to go for Entertainment or the comics. Adam took the Entertainment section for himself, and they read in companionable silence, the only sound the occasional slurp of hot coffee or the rustle of a page. It wasn’t much longer before Keith came down, probably awakened by the absence of warm bodies in the bed with

him, yawning and rubbing his eyes. He paused at the table to kiss Adam, then put his thumb under Sebastian’s chin. Sebastian seemed a little surprised, but he tilted his face up anyway, and Keith kissed him too, lingering a little more than he had with Adam. “Mm,” Keith said after he pulled back. “Sweet.” He gave Adam a sly look, and Adam arched an eyebrow and slurped loudly at black coffee. Keith grinned and went into the kitchen to get his own cup of coffee, which would fall somewhere between Adam’s and Sebastian’s on the sweetness scale. Adam started reading the entertainment news a little faster, knowing Keith would want it, and froze when he saw a review of Keith’s West Hollywood concert. The reviewer had given the concert a C-plus, saying that she would have rated him higher except for a few scathing observations about his personal life that, quite honestly, were none of her fucking business. Not that she admitted that last part. Shit. Keith had an agent for these kinds of things—to call him and tell him not to read the paper. Or to call Adam and tell him to spill coffee on the Entertainment pages before Keith woke up. Keith had been doing much better than normal after this tour, and Adam didn’t want to take the very real chance that this review would knock his feet right out from under him.

Trying not to make too much noise, Adam folded the Entertainment page and shuffled it underneath the World, Business, and Sports pages. With any luck, Keith would get distracted by the comics and the Sunday black belt Sudoku puzzle, and that catty little “review” would stay hidden long enough for Adam to throw it away. Adam noticed Sebastian watching him curiously, but the kid didn’t ask and Adam didn’t have time to explain anyway. He shook his head subtly, hoping Sebastian got the hint. Adam set the comics in front of the empty chair where Keith would sit when he came back and took the Local pages for himself. Keith sank into his chair like he’d been on his feet for a month, his coffee mug clutched firmly in both hands. He never started talking in full sentences until after his second cup, so Adam was surprised for more than one reason when he asked, “Why are you reading the Local pages? You hate those.” Adam was aware of Sebastian watching them over the edge of the National News section, his bright blue eyes tracking their movements and expressions like he was going to have to write a report on them. “Just thought I’d glance at it,” Adam drawled, hoping the little white lie sounded natural. From the way Keith frowned at him, he hadn’t succeeded. “You know your Georgia accent gets stronger when you’re

lying to me.” Keith took another long sip of his coffee. “Florida,” Adam corrected automatically. Keith waved him off. It was an old argument; north-central Florida might as well have belonged to Georgia instead. Even his high school mascot had been chosen in honor of the University of Georgia Bulldogs. Sebastian stopped being subtle about his observation then and put down the paper he wasn’t reading. “I didn’t know you were from Florida.” Adam shrugged uncomfortably. “I left the day after I graduated high school. Moved to LA, waited tables, auditioned at every open call. The usual story.” “My older sister went to college in Gainesville.” Sebastian fumbled for his coffee and took a drink to hide his sudden awkwardness, but Adam was grateful. His curiosity had steered the conversation away from Keith digging deeper into their change in routine. Adam laughed. “Gator Nation. I think half my graduating class went there.” Adam glanced furtively at Keith. He wished he could tell his lover not to read the Entertainment pages instead of hiding it from him like this, but Keith was too curious by half and would ferret it out anyway. The best Adam could hope for was keeping him distracted long enough for Adam to dispose of the pages.

His mind raced, trying to come up with a ploy, when he finally remembered that it was, thank fuck, Christmas. “Hey, babe.” He kicked Keith’s ankle lightly under the table, staying there long enough to rub up Keith’s calf with his foot. “Do you want to go look at the holiday lights tonight? Candy Cane Lane, maybe?” “That could be fun.” Keith looked to Sebastian. “What do you say? If you get bored, we can always pull over to the side of the road and make out.” Adam arched an eyebrow. “And get arrested.” Keith kicked him back, but Sebastian laughed. “Sure. Could be fun. Do I have to wear pants?” ****

The paper was forgotten as they made plans, and after all the coffee was gone and Sebastian had run upstairs to take a shower, Adam started cleaning up the breakfast nook. He gathered all the sections of the newspaper and stuffed them into the recycling bin, allowing himself a sigh at having dodged that bullet. But of course, he wasn’t that lucky. “Hey, babe? Don’t throw the paper away yet. I haven’t seen

the Entertainment section.” Keith wandered into the kitchen, somehow still looking sleep-mussed and adorable after he’d been awake for more than an hour. “It’s already in the recycling bin. I’m sorry; I guess I wasn’t thinkin’.” Keith’s eyes narrowed, and Adam froze. “You’ve got an accent again. Both times it’s been about the paper. What are you hiding from me?” Adam sighed and set the coffee mugs down in the sink before turning to face Keith. “Shirley Mason reviewed your WeHo concert.” “Dammit.” Keith went right over to the recycle bin and started digging for the pages. “What did she say this time? Another ‘cheap David Bowie rip-off’? ‘Postbreakdown Britney Spears with a dick’? ‘Just like Justin Bieber— except old, ugly, and untalented’?” “Jesus, Keith, stop.” Adam tried to block Keith’s access to the recycle bin, but Keith fought past him, determined to pull out the pages. All those things were, in fact, things that Shirley Mason had said about him at some time or another. No matter how much Adam told Keith that she was just taking her homophobia out on him—the columnist had written a long piece in support of Proposition 8 back when it was up for votes—Keith persisted in viewing it as

personal. “No. I wanna know what she said.” “For fuck’s sake! She said the only reason anybody came to your concerts was because they hoped you would fuck them afterwards! That you’re a slut who can’t sing! Are you happy now?” Keith straightened up from rummaging in the recycle bin, and Adam thought—hoped—he’d given up. That Adam’s summary of the worst parts had been enough for Keith’s masochism. Instead Keith held up the piece of paper, soaked through with coffee-water, little bits of coffee grounds clinging to it. “You put the coffee grounds in the recycle bin.” Keith’s voice sounded tight, like he was trying to keep from losing it. “Coffee grounds don’t go in the recycling. They go in the compost.” His voice cracked at the end, and he closed his mouth with a snap of teeth that Adam could hear from two feet away. “Babe…” Adam reached out but stopped without actually touching him, unsure if his touch would be welcome or make things worse. Keith slammed the soggy paper back into the recycling and paced away, bracing his hands on the kitchen counter. Adam approached him carefully, one hand rubbing softly

across his back. Adam felt the shudder that worked its way through Keith’s body right about the time he heard the shower upstairs go off. “Can we save this for later?” Adam kept up his soothing massage, hoping it would take the sting out of his request. “After Sebastian has gone home? Or maybe after he’s asleep tonight?” Keith let out a long, shaky breath and nodded. “Yeah. Baz didn’t sign up for this. Okay.” But he still didn’t move, and Adam just kept touching him. “Goddamn it,” Keith finally said, his voice sounding more normal. “I fucking hate journos.” A soft sound at the door made Adam look up to see Sebastian standing there, toweling his wet hair. A blue Tshirt clung to his torso, emphasizing his trim physique and the color of his eyes. He looked a little deer-in-theheadlights, and Adam guessed he’d overheard enough to know that Keith was seriously upset. “Hey, Sebastian,” Adam said, trying for welcoming and reassuring. “Come on in.” “Sorry, kitten.” Keith stood up and ran a hand through his hair. Adam could barely tell he was shaking. “Bad review. I get a little overreactive sometimes.” “No, that’s…that’s fine. I mean, hell, you should see me if I

get a C on a paper.” Sebastian’s smile was a little anemic, but it was an A-plus effort. “And anyway, I think you’re great, so screw the haters.” “Thanks.” Keith laughed, but it still sounded a little off to Adam’s ear. At least he was talking, engaging. As long as he was able to moderate his interactions, there was a chance this wouldn’t get the better of him just yet. They might still have to pay the piper later, but they could deal with that then. “I don’t think I’d even mind so much if she didn’t like the music, but it’s like… I don’t know. My sex life is none of her business, and even if it were, she’s got a double standard. Hell, the whole fucking world has a double standard. If I were sleeping with girls instead, I’d be a stud, you know? I guess it’s sleeping with men that gets you labeled a slut.” Adam waited, unsure how Sebastian would take Keith’s outburst, and the kid tilted his head, looking thoughtful for a minute. “I guess it must rock to be a lesbian. You’re not a slut, and the girls you’re sleeping with aren’t either.” Keith snorted, almost a giggle, and Adam grinned. “I’m not sure it works quite like that.” Adam checked his watch; it was only about eleven a.m. Nothing interesting would be happening for several hours, and Keith could use a distraction. They all could, probably. “Ah, we don’t usually have guests for longer than a couple of hours,” Adam said,

glancing at Keith and then at Sebastian. “So I have no idea what you would like to do. Keith and I usually sit around with our laptops.” “Watching porn,” Keith added. He was only half joking. Sebastian smiled at them both, and some of the awkwardness finally started leaving his expression. “Well, I brought my laptop, and I’ve been going nonstop for the past three months, so I don’t mind vegging out a little.” “Cool. Keith, get him set up on our wireless, and I’ll call and make reservations for dinner so we don’t have to fight the crowds. Italian okay with everybody?” Nobody had an argument for him, so Adam kissed them both briefly and sent them off to get their computers. He figured he’d give them twenty minutes before they got bored and started making porn of their own. Chapter Fourteen

Sebastian was having a hell of a time concentrating on anything. His Internet surfing patterns looked something like the path of an attention-deficient squirrel. On crack. He knew Keith hadn’t meant anything in particular—after all, he’d just been very personally attacked by a columnist—but Sebastian still felt a little nervous. He didn’t think he’d ever told Adam or Keith what his major was, and even aside

from the nasty, overly personal review, it seemed like a conflict of interests. Sebastian knew he would never sell either of them out, even if he had the connections in the press to do so, and for more reasons than because revealing his part in their threesome would be detrimental to his own ambitions in political journalism. But despite the fact that they’d gone to a fair bit of trouble for this trip, he was still little more than a one-night stand to them. They had no reason to trust him. Maybe they didn’t need to be told. Maybe this was the last time he’d see them. But then again, they seemed to like him a lot, at least as far as casual fuck buddies went, and he wouldn’t say no if they invited him back. It was the best sex of his life—which, okay, he’d only lost his virginity at nineteen, but he’d had enough mediocre sex in the two years he’d been having it to know that this was off the charts. Or he could just tell them and hope it wasn’t actually a big deal. That he was worrying about nothing. But, as his father had been fond of saying, nothing is ever “nothing.” Or maybe his father was paranoid. Maybe it ran in the family. It was in the middle of worrying about this that he realized he could hear the ping of Keith’s and Adam’s instant messenger programs bouncing back and forth in a pattern that sounded an awful lot like they were talking to each other. On messenger. While sitting less than five feet apart.

An uncomfortable chill crept into Sebastian’s stomach, and he shifted in the leather recliner they’d invited him to sit in. Were they talking about him? And even if they weren’t, what were they talking about that they couldn’t tell him? Plenty, you dumbass, he scolded himself. They’re a couple. They’ve been together for years. They have all kinds of things they say to each other that you’re not a part of. It’s fine. They’re probably discussing some kind of business. But the chill in his abdomen didn’t go away. It turned sour as he realized that, if they knew he was a journalism major, they would be even less inclined to discuss business out loud. And for some reason, he really wanted to be able to pretend he was a normal part of them, that what they had going was a little special, that he was more than just a temporary fuck. Of course, he knew better. He was going to have to go back to college after this amazing weekend, decide what the fuck he was going to do about the spring internship offer, and get on with his mediocre life. “Sebastian?” Adam’s voice interrupted his breakup preplans, and he jumped guiltily. “Yes?” “It’s totally my fault—I forgot to mention packing anything

specific—but you wouldn’t happen to have packed, say, business casual wear, would you?” Sebastian’s heart sank a little. “No. Why?” “I just remembered—” Keith cleared his throat, and Adam backtracked. “Keith just reminded me that the restaurant I made reservations at doesn’t have a dress code exactly, but you’d feel out of place in casual clothes. We can change the reservations, although chances are there won’t be much available this late in the game that isn’t at a similar place, or we can stay home and you can brave our cooking. You won’t get food poisoning. Probably. Or we can order in”— Adam took a breath—“or, if you’re okay with it, we can run out and find you something really quick.” Adam looked uncomfortable saying it, and that made Sebastian feel like squirming. Jesus. He was making their life so fucking complicated. Even if Adam had told him to pack “business casual,” Sebastian would have been shit out of luck. He didn’t have anything like that with him at college. It was all back home, packed in his parents’ garage with the rest of his stuff. And it wasn’t like he could run home to his parents’ house and say, “Hi, bye, I just came to pick up some nice clothes so I can go out with the two guys I’m flying out to LA to fuck!”

“No, I don’t want to impose. Y’all can go, and I’ll…stay here…and, I don’t know, order in? Or something.” “The hell you will.” Keith frowned at him, and Sebastian felt his stomach twist. “No, I didn’t mean—I mean, obviously I won’t call for delivery if y’all don’t want people to know I’m here or—” “Keith.” Adam sighed at his lover and then gave Sebastian an apologetic glance. “That’s not it, sweetie. We just want you with us. That’s why we invited you out, right? I mean, sure, for the sex, but because we like you too. We want you to go out with us. I just wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable…” Comfortable letting them buy clothes for him like a couple of sugar daddies who had bought him a first-class ticket all the way across the country. What had he told Jason about not wanting to be a whore? Sebastian could feel his cheeks heating. Damn, he must look like a giant tomato by now. Of course, the knowledge he was blushing only made him blush more. “I…” He trailed off, uncertain of what he actually wanted to say. Keith watched him for a long moment. “We could always hit a fast-food drive-through.” He shrugged, and then a leer pulled up the corner of his mouth. “Although I’d love to see

you all dressed up, especially knowing you’re going to take it off when we get home…” And somehow, that did it. As much as he was worried about being a rentboy, Keith’s warm flirtation eased the knot of tension in Sebastian’s stomach and made it bearable. He found he could smile again. “All right, fine. I’ll pay you back in trade.” Keith raised both fists in a victory pose, as if he’d been trying to coax Sebastian into his bed all along, and Sebastian couldn’t help laughing. Like he was going to be anywhere else at the end of the day. Adam smiled at them both. Sebastian thought he looked a little relieved. Maybe he hadn’t been freaked out about buying clothes for Sebastian; maybe he’d been worried about Sebastian being freaked out. Suddenly Sebastian wanted to drag them both upstairs and into bed, to share this warm, happy feeling with their bare bodies, but Adam stood and checked his watch. Sebastian felt his stomach flip, but in a good way. Something about the way that metal watchband shone on Adam’s wrist drew Sebastian’s attention to his hands. Sebastian was a sucker for hands. Adam’s were gorgeous. He really wanted to feel them all over his body, stroking his cock, lifting his balls, pushing into his—

“We’d better go now if we want to have time to find something.” Adam glanced at Keith, who was dressed in torn jeans and a faded Madonna T-shirt. “Are you ready to go, or did you want to change clothes?” Keith looked down at himself and held the hem of the Tshirt away from his stomach, examining it. It was ragged, as if he’d been wearing it daily since the—Sebastian squinted to read what was printed on the shirt—1990 Blond Ambition World Tour. “What, you don’t like my Madge vintage? I thought it was stylish.” “So help me, if you call 1990 vintage again, I’m divorcing you.” Sebastian blinked at Adam’s pronouncement. He hadn’t realized they were married. He was sure he would’ve— “Have to marry me before you can divorce me, bitch.” Keith was smiling, but Sebastian wondered if he was only imagining an edge to the taunt. He knew he wasn’t imagining the shadow that flickered across Adam’s face. “Yeah, well.” Adam frowned down at his watch again, but this time, Sebastian watched his eyes instead of being distracted by his hands. They were dark, shaded with some emotion Sebastian couldn’t name. “If we’re going, we’d

better go.” The smile slipped right off Keith’s face, and he stood, closing his laptop and putting it aside. “Let’s go, then.” When Adam glanced at his shirt again, Keith shrugged. “Nordstrom has seen me in worse. Plus, I’m famous. I can get away with this.” “At least I won’t stand out like a sore thumb,” Sebastian offered, fingering the hem of his own shirt. Of course, his wasn’t frayed and worn, but it was still clingy and stylishly faded, the Rolling Stone magazine logo cracked like it was as old as the publication instead of fresh off the shelf. Adam gave him a mildly horrified look, and just when Sebastian was starting to get squirmy, Adam blurted out an apology. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about…” Sebastian laughed it off. “All right, so we’ll consider it even. You can buy me new clothes to make up for it.” If Sebastian didn’t know better, he would have sworn that the twin looks Adam and Keith turned on him were full of something suspiciously like adoration. The soft kisses they brushed over his mouth in turn made him feel like his heart had melted all over his diaphragm, and he followed them out to their car like a lovesick puppy. Somebody find me a leash, he thought bitterly. I’m a goner.

****

Their shopping trip to Nordstrom began as awkwardly as Sebastian had been afraid it might as he continued to trail along behind them, feeling useless and lost. An eager salesman had come rushing up to them—though subtly, so that he looked neither eager nor rushing—almost immediately. Sebastian guessed it must have been because Adam was dressed nicely, since both he and Keith looked like they ought to be shopping at Target instead. Or maybe only rich people dared to shop in Nordstrom looking like they were one step up from sleeping on the floor of a college dorm room. Sebastian was a little surprised when neither Keith nor Adam followed him into the cubicle, though perhaps it had something to do with the conspicuous security cameras. Instead they waited in the larger part of the dressing room, over by the three-way mirrors. Sebastian could hear them speaking to each other in low tones as he undressed, but they’d fallen silent by the time he got into the first pair of charcoal trousers and buttoned up the shimmering, bright teal shirt they’d found. The pants were a little long—he was short, after all—and pooled slightly on top of his bare feet, but other than that, they fit nicely. He turned so that he could see himself in the

one mirror on the back of the cubicle door, but it was hard to crane his neck enough to see over his shoulder. He wanted to make sure the pants fit his ass well, wanted to make sure Adam and Keith got their money’s worth. “Sebastian?” Adam’s voice felt like it brushed across his skin, even though he was at the other end of the dressing room, and Sebastian took a deep, steadying breath before he opened the cubicle and walked out. Adam sat on a bench to the side of the mirrors, fiddling with his phone. Keith was nowhere to be seen. Sebastian smiled nervously at Adam, feeling especially tiny and vulnerable in his bare feet and too-long pants. The cuffs of the shirt’s sleeves fell past his wrists, and even though it was part of the design, it added to the feeling of being undersized. Adam watched him sharply, and Sebastian couldn’t read the look in his eyes until Adam’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, and then the predatory light hit Sebastian like a sucker punch, stealing the breath from his lungs. “You look gorgeous.” Adam stood, and Sebastian felt dwarfed by his six-foot frame. Adam slipped his iPhone into his pocket and let his hands skim over Sebastian’s arms, rustling the shiny fabric. Sebastian shivered when

Adam got to the collar, fingertips tickling Sebastian’s neck. “I l-like the shirt.” Sebastian winced at how inane that sounded, but Adam didn’t seem to notice. “It’s a nice color.” “It’s the same color as your eyes.” Adam’s fingers danced up Sebastian’s throat, catching his chin and tilting his face up. “It looks good on you.” Adam’s voice had gone husky, rasping over Sebastian’s ears straight to his dick. He felt a tingle of arousal in his balls as Adam’s big hand spread out, cupping Sebastian’s face, thumb rubbing Sebastian’s cheekbone as his fingers cradled Sebastian’s skull. Sebastian tried to think of something to say, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out but a breathy moan. He hadn’t thought it was possible for Adam’s brown eyes to go any darker, but they did, right before Adam leaned down and brushed his lips over Sebastian’s. The first touch of tongues startled a tiny whimper out of Sebastian’s throat, and even though his neck hurt from craning it back to meet Adam’s kiss—their height difference wasn’t making this easy on either of them—he couldn’t make himself pull back. Adam’s arms slid around Sebastian’s back, pulling him in more tightly, lifting him onto his tiptoes. Sebastian clutched at Adam’s shoulders, trying to get closer, trying to make the

angle of their kiss more comfortable, more open, just… more. Adam’s tongue caressed his mouth like it had been made for no other purpose, and Sebastian felt his breath stutter in his chest, the sharp edge of pleasure sliding along his jangling nerves. “So good,” Adam whispered against his mouth. Sebastian didn’t have time to say anything before Adam kissed him again, deeper this time, like he was trying to lick all the way into Sebastian’s throat. Sebastian wrapped one leg around Adam’s hip to keep them from falling over and groaned as it brought his cock into contact with Adam’s firm thigh. Body memory had him rocking almost instantly, and it was just as amazing as the first time, even if this time they were being serenaded by department-store Muzak instead of Keith, and— Sebastian pulled back despite himself, trying in vain to catch his breath. Adam was panting too, and Sebastian watched his mouth, reddened and kiss swollen, until he couldn’t remember why the hell they weren’t still making out. “The store…clerk…cameras…” Sebastian cleared his throat. Adam nodded, even though he looked as disappointed as Sebastian felt. Adam let go of him, and Sebastian stumbled backward, trying in vain to smooth out the new wrinkles they’d put in the outfit. “I guess we’ll be getting those,” Adam noted wryly.

Sebastian laughed, a short, breathless burst of sound, and looked down nervously to see that the loose cut of the slacks at least partially disguised his growing hard-on. “I need shoes,” Sebastian blurted, curling his bare toes into the burgundy carpet. “And so you shall have shoes.” Keith’s voice was right behind him. He jumped. Keith chuckled, holding out a pair of dress shoes and socks, and Sebastian reached for them gratefully, wondering why the hell he felt so guilty. Keith’s gaze swept over him, and he fought the urge to cover the bulge at his crotch in a fit of misplaced modesty. Keith glanced at Adam and then back at Sebastian and smirked. “Damn. I leave for ten minutes and the party starts without me.” He nodded to the shoes Sebastian held in his hand. “Go ahead and try them on, kitten. Give me the price tags from the clothes, and I’ll go pay. We’ll put your other ones in a bag, and you can wear that out. We need to hurry if we’re going to make our reservation time.” Sebastian nodded dumbly, and Adam stepped aside to let him sit down on the bench to put on the new shoes. “I’ll grab your other clothes,” Adam said quietly. “Come out when you’re ready.” He leaned down and bussed a quick kiss over Sebastian’s lips, and then he was gone.

Keith stood where he was for a second, and Sebastian held his gaze, trying not to act like he’d done something to be ashamed of. Then he noticed that Keith was no longer wearing his Madonna shirt and torn jeans, and he frowned. “Did you…?” “What, you thought you were the only person getting new clothes?” Keith winked at him and did a half turn, showing off the way his new black trousers hugged his ass perfectly. The ruffled purple shirt he wore would have looked ridiculous on anyone else, but on Keith it looked like it was right off the pages of GQ. “Although I’m thinking I should’ve changed in here so I could get some of the dressing-room groping too.” Sebastian was about to apologize when Keith held out his hand and made an impatient gimme gesture with his fingers. “Tags, dude. C’mon.” “Oh…” Sebastian looked helplessly at the price tag hanging off the sleeve of the shirt and tried to ignore the actual numbers printed there. “I don’t have a knife, or—” Keith grabbed his hand, pulling his wrist up, and caught the little plastic strip between his teeth. He bit through it, catching the price tag in his hand, and then gestured for

Sebastian to turn around so he could get to the pants. He pushed up Sebastian’s shirt to expose the tag on the waistband of the trousers, and Sebastian felt his dick go from half-hard to Oh God, touch me now when Keith’s moist breath skimmed across his lower back a half second before the other plastic strip snapped between Keith’s teeth. “That’s not good for your teeth,” Sebastian said, but instead of a rebuke, it came out sounding like Please throw me up against that three-way mirror and fuck my brains out. At least, that was what Sebastian thought. Keith was either immune or he was really invested in getting them to dinner on time. “You can kiss them and make them better later.” A quick brush of lips across the shell of his ear, and then Keith was gone. Sebastian stayed where he was, fully dressed all the way down to his brand new shoes but feeling completely naked. He stared at the wide-eyed, flush-cheeked twink in the mirror for long moments before Adam stepped out of the cubicle behind him, Sebastian’s clothes folded over his arm. He met Sebastian’s eyes in the mirror and arched an eyebrow. “Sweetheart? Are you okay?”

The sound of his voice broke the spell, and Sebastian nodded, turning away from the mirrors. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go.” Chapter Fifteen

Four in the morning saw Keith trying to wriggle out of bed without waking either of the men plastered against him in their sleep. His bladder had woken him insistently, and the feeling was enough to force him out of his comfortable little lovenest. He relieved himself, then realized how parched his mouth and throat were and padded down to the kitchen without bothering to put on any clothes. The house was a comfortable temperature, and the only other occupants would be less than shocked by his nudity. He started having second thoughts when he opened the refrigerator, and the frosty air gusted out over his skin. He shivered. “Careful.” Adam’s sleepy voice startled him, and he jumped. He hadn’t heard anyone coming up behind him. “You might catch a chill.” Adam’s big, warm hand slid over Keith’s pelvis, down to tenderly cup his cock and balls. His other arm went around Keith’s waist. Keith let out a soft breath and leaned back into Adam’s chest, letting the refrigerator door fall shut, washing them in

darkness as Adam kissed down the side of his neck. Adam still smelled like cologne and sweat, the sticky-sweet smell of bourbon and Coke lingering near his lips from the club they’d gone to after dinner. Not much for dancing, although Keith thought he was fantastically good at it, Adam had sat at the bar, nursing a single drink and watching Keith and Baz have drunken, fully-clothed sex on the dance floor. “Can’t sleep?” “Nah. Just bathroom, and then I was thirsty.” He laid his hands over Adam’s arm around his waist. “Not insomnia this time.” Keith’s nerves were jangling, but it wasn’t from insomnia; it was the leftover buzz of incredible sex. They’d left the club together, Baz draped over Adam and giving Keith conspiratorial looks from underneath those long eyelashes. He’d kissed Adam’s ear and told him breathlessly, “You should have come out and danced with us.” A lick up Adam’s neck and then a nip at his earlobe punctuated his statement. “We fit together so well.” Adam had laughed, but once they were in the car, he’d grabbed Baz’s chin and kissed him so hard Keith imagined he’d heard Baz’s jaw pop. Keith had watched them, feeling the heaviness of his cock between his legs and the fire of arousal in his blood.

“Good.” Adam muffled his yawn against Keith’s skin. “Enjoying your not-Christmas present?” Despite the fact that they both should have been passed out with Baz upstairs, Adam kissed the soft spot behind Keith’s ear with what felt like serious intent, and Keith melted into his hands. “He was right.” Keith gasped as Adam dragged his mouth down Keith’s neck and nipped his bare shoulder. “We do fit together well.” Adam paused, his fingers flexing around Keith’s dick, which was beginning to plump out with all the attention even though he’d come so many times in the last few hours his balls were sore. Keith tried not to fidget, but when Adam didn’t immediately continue his explorations, he couldn’t help himself. “You don’t think we do?” Adam sucked thoughtfully on Keith’s shoulder, and Keith shivered at the hint of teeth. A soft pop and the cool brush of air over the wet skin sent another shudder through him; then Adam’s lips brushed him as he spoke. “I… What do you mean by fit together?” Adam’s voice sounded small and uncertain, and Keith tried to mask his reaction, the way all his muscles went guilty-stiff as he realized how greedy he was being, how selfish it was

to ask for this to last. This close to Adam, he didn’t stand a chance of hiding it, so he took a deep breath and put his cards on the table. “I want to keep him.” Adam’s grip slackened, and Keith clutched at both hands to keep him from letting go. “That came out weird.” He cleared his throat, suddenly very conscious that he’d never gotten that drink of water. “I meant… I’d like to talk about the possibility of making it long-term. I don’t want this to be the last time he’s with us.” This time when Adam let go, Keith didn’t fight him. Adam didn’t retreat very far, though, just enough to turn Keith around to face him. Keith could almost see the wheels turning in his lover’s head. “Okay. I can see where this might be something to consider, but I think you and I need to talk about it first, the two of us, after Sebastian goes home.” Keith frowned, but before he could say anything, Adam held up his hand. “We need to discuss this alone first. There are a lot of things to talk about, a lot of details to work out. What we want, what Sebastian wants, the distance, what needs to change, what we’re going to do about it being public. You know we won’t be able to keep it a secret forever. If we make it long-term, we may not even want to.”

Keith wanted to pout at the delay, but he knew Adam was right. As usual. And there were other things they needed to talk about that Adam hadn’t mentioned. How it would affect their relationship. How Adam felt about it. “But you’re okay with the idea? It would be something you wouldn’t mind trying?” Adam stepped close enough to kiss him. “If it’s something you think you want, yes, I’m going to seriously consider it.” That wasn’t what Keith wanted to know. “But you like him?” Keith knew he was pressing the issue, but he wanted to make sure Adam wanted it too, that he wasn’t just indulging Keith. “You like Baz?” Adam pulled their bodies flush and kissed his ear. “I do, yes. He’s sweet, and God knows the sex is hot. But I think we need to enjoy the rest of the weekend without feeling pressured to make a decision on this right away.” Keith melted against Adam’s chest, snuggling in closer. “You’re so smart. Must be why I’ve been sleeping with you all this time.” Adam gave him a faint smile and a soft kiss, but Keith could taste his distraction. “What’s wrong?” “Hmm?” Adam nuzzled him and then leaned back to study him. He opened his mouth, sighed, and shook his head. “Nothing.” “Yeah, okay.” Keith couldn’t help feeling a little

disappointed. He’d been hoping for something else from his lover, maybe some indication of excitement about the possibilities—the same kind of excitement that tingled all through his body, singing down his nerves in streaks of silver optimism. He’d wanted to share that feeling, that bubbling energy. But then again, Adam’s relative levelheadedness was one of the reasons Keith loved and trusted his partner. He grounded Keith instead of letting him fly away on his emotions. “I guess we’d better get back before our pretty little bedwarmer thinks we’ve abandoned him.” “Can’t have that.” Adam leaned over and kissed Keith softly, lingeringly. Keith felt something inside glow warm and bright, and he leaned against Adam. “I love you.” “I love you too.” Adam trailed a finger down Keith’s jaw and across his lower lip. Maybe it was just the heavy shadows, but Keith thought he looked a little pensive, maybe even sad. That look stayed with him as they climbed the stairs, fingers tangled casually. It niggled at the back of his mind as they crawled into bed on either side of Baz, who was sleeping the sleep of the well-fucked, and distracted him across Baz’s pretty face as they both rained gentle kisses on their lover’s warm, smooth skin. Then Adam gave him a wolfish

smile and reached across Baz’s body to stroke Keith’s hip, and Baz woke with a gasp when Adam bit down on his nipple. Suddenly Keith forgot everything—the soreness in his balls, the turmoil of indecision, and the shadow he’d thought he’d seen over Adam’s eyes. At any rate, there was no shadow there as Baz began to writhe under Adam’s assault. He must have imagined it. ****

Bright sunlight directly in his eyes finally dragged Keith out of slumber. Used to being the heavy sleeper in the household and the last one up in the mornings, he was surprised when he shifted and found that he wasn’t alone. Baz was pressed against him, curled into Adam’s much bigger body. Adam held Baz around his waist, keeping them pinned together, and Keith felt a sleepy smile tug at his lips. That was the way Adam held Keith most of the time. He honestly expected to feel a little bit jealous at that revelation, but he didn’t. As long as they both wanted him too, he thought they were beautiful spooned up together like that. Like cake and ice cream. Exhausted, he let his eyes drift close and could feel himself slipping back into sleep when his phone beeped. He

cracked one eye open and glared at the piece of plastic resting on the bedside table. It beeped again. He sighed. It wouldn’t stop until he checked whatever message had come in, so he picked up the phone and opened his inbox. A text from his manager with an attachment. The message said only, Got an explanation for me? He opened the attachment to find an article from an online gossip site with pictures of himself and Baz at the dance club, grinding on each other, and more pictures of Baz leaving the club draped over Adam and obviously giving him very sexual signals. The title of the article proved that they were choosing drama over the most obvious answer: Are Cruce

and Black Cheating on Each Other…with the Same Guy? “Jesus Christ,” Keith muttered at his phone. He would have to think of something to text his manager that was more suitable than Does it count as cheating if we’re fucking him together? He had a feeling that what his manager really wanted wasn’t an explanation so much as an agreement to unconditional damage control. They went through this every few months when the gossip blogs and tabloids reported yet another breakup, but this might be worse. Cheating on your partner was one thing; having threesomes was somehow less acceptable. What a world. “That is fuckedup.” A sharp intake of breath over his shoulder startled him, and he turned to see a sleepy but wide-eyed Baz staring at

Keith’s phone. “Hey, kitten.” Keith reached up and stroked Baz’s chin awkwardly. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.” “It wasn’t me.” The words left Baz’s mouth on a rush of air, and Keith paused, confused. “What wasn’t you?” “The pictures. I didn’t… It wasn’t me.” Was the kid sleep-talking, or had he hit his head too hard on the wall last night when Keith fucked him? “Uh, I’m pretty sure that’s you.” Keith pointed to the pretty boy hanging on Adam on his cell phone screen. “I think I remember humping your ass on the dance floor about five minutes before this was taken.” Baz looked so horrified that for a moment Keith thought maybe he did have amnesia and didn’t remember the kind of things they’d been doing together. The thought sent a cold splash of ice-blue panic through his veins. “No, I mean—I didn’t give them those pictures. I didn’t even know… Jesus, I’m sorry.” Suddenly it clicked, and Keith let out a relieved laugh. “It’s all right. They do this all the time. Well, not this. They’ve

never caught us with the same guy before.” He leaned up and kissed Baz, lingering at his lips. Baz’s response was tentative, but he kissed Keith back. When they broke apart, Keith thumbed Baz’s lower lip and smiled at him. “They’ll just have to get used to it.” Baz’s eyes went wide, but he smiled back and leaned in for another kiss. Just when things were starting to get interesting, Keith’s stomach growled with a sharp reminder that he hadn’t gotten that midnight snack the night before. Baz laughed, and Keith grinned sheepishly. “What do you say to some breakfast, kitten?” Chapter Sixteen

Keith and Sebastian rolled out of bed, jostling Adam. He stayed where he was, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the echo in his head and telling himself not to overreact. “They’ll just have to get used to it.” He counted to ten, took a deep breath and went on to twenty, but lost count around seventeen and gave up. It wasn’t a big deal, he told himself. Keith was impulsive. He just said things. He probably didn’t even mean it like Adam had taken it. But he couldn’t help feeling like Keith had

betrayed their agreement to wait, to talk about things before inviting Sebastian to be their third. He could barely hear them downstairs, laughing and talking as they moved things around, presumably fixing breakfast. Adam sighed and heaved himself out of bed. He stalked to the bathroom, got into the shower, and turned the taps until the water was just short of scalding. He stood there for long moments under the downpour, letting the pulse of hot water soothe the tension out of his shoulders and back. Finally he let out a long sigh, rolling his head to loosen his neck, and reached for the shampoo. He’d just gotten lathered up when he felt a small hand on his back, and he jumped. “Sorry,” Sebastian said contritely from behind him. “I didn’t —I thought—Is this okay? I can go if—” “It’s fine.” Adam stepped under the spray to rinse the lather from his hair before he got soap in his eyes, and when he could finally look, he saw Sebastian standing at the back of the luxurious shower, taking up as little space as humanly possible. “Hey.” Adam tried on a smile, sure he looked ridiculous, soaking wet with his hair plastered to his face. It seemed to work, though, as Sebastian uncurled from his huddled position and took a step toward him. “Hey.” Sebastian smiled, and it didn’t look ridiculous on him, even

though his hair was already flattened against his skull. It looked pretty damned adorable. Adam pushed his own hair back from his face and reached for the body gel, pouring some into his hand. “Where’s Keith?” He watched as the gel pooled in his palm, and when he looked up, Sebastian seemed awkward again. “He went to meet his manager. Said he wouldn’t be back for a while.” His glance darted toward the shower door. “I can…um. If you’d rather wait until he… I mean…” “Hey.” Adam slid both of his hands around Sebastian’s hips, pulling him close. His left hand slid on the slickness of gel, and he began to work up a lather for the fun of it. “I don’t mind, and neither does Keith. I just didn’t know why you’d be climbing into the shower with me if he was still here.” Sebastian looked confused and maybe a little hurt, and before Adam could ask why, he shook his head. “You mean you think I would rather have Keith than you?” Adam paused, gripping Sebastian’s hips tighter, his fingers sliding in the lather. “Everybody would rather have Keith than me. Except maybe Keith.” “Like hell!” Even soaking wet, he looked ferocious as he scowled. Adam remembered the first time Keith had described

Sebastian—mad as a wet cat—and suddenly understood Keith’s insistence on calling him kitten. He was tiny and fierce and absolutely adorable. “Look, I like Keith, but I didn’t sleep with y’all because of him. If he had asked me, I would have turned him down.” Sebastian slid his hands up Adam’s chest and held on to his shoulders, bringing them closer together, his eyes intense. “I like you both now, but you were the one who caught my attention, the one I had a crush on. I like you, okay?” He faltered suddenly, but before he could be embarrassed, Adam pulled him close and kissed him. The kiss was slick with shower water, and Adam felt like he was drinking Sebastian in with long, slow draughts. When they broke apart, Adam had to catch his breath, but his heart thundered at the look on Sebastian’s face. He rubbed his thumb over Sebastian’s lower lip, then up to one of his devastating cheekbones. He opened his mouth to say something, but all he could think of was Thank you, so he just lowered his head and kissed Sebastian again. As their tongues moved together, Adam collected the lather he’d been building on Sebastian’s hip and began spreading it over his body with long, sweeping strokes. Sebastian arched into him and moaned as he skimmed both hands up his back and then down to his butt. Adam

broke away and placed openmouthed kisses down his neck to his shoulder, where he stayed and sucked on Sebastian’s collarbone for a moment. “I want… Oh God, Adam, I want…” Adam licked back up the path he’d just kissed and bit down gently on Sebastian’s earlobe. “What do you want, baby?” He squeezed the firm cheeks in his hands, and Sebastian’s breath hitched. “I don’t… You. I want you.” Adam shivered and pressed a kiss to Sebastian’s cheek. “All right, let’s get rinsed off and take this somewhere more comfortable.”

THEY DRIED OFF, but impatiently, scrubbing haphazardly with terrycloth around each other’s hands as they kept kissing. Every time Adam let Sebastian up for air, the kid refused to take advantage of it, lunging for him, fingers sliding across slick patches of skin. They were both distinctly damp as they fell to the bed, sheets clinging to them as they rolled. Sebastian’s skin was warm and fragrant, and Adam pinned him to the mattress, holding him down and relishing the way his small body squirmed under Adam’s larger one. Adam

insinuated himself between Sebastian’s thighs and swiveled his hips as he nipped under Sebastian’s jaw. Sebastian arched sharply, but his gasp and wince spoke more of pain than pleasure, and Adam stopped moving. “Sore?” He drew his hand down Sebastian’s side, soothing and gentle. Sebastian shook his head and reached for Adam, threading his fingers through wet hair. “I’m fine.” Adam snorted and kissed him softly, then rolled away. “It’s not Thanksgiving.” He took Sebastian’s hand, skimming a light touch over his knuckles. “We don’t have to fit it all in at once. We have time.” Sebastian giggled, turning his hand over so that Adam’s fingertips tickled his palm. “Fit it in?” Adam rolled his eyes, but he grinned too and laced their fingers together. “I didn’t mean that literally, but yes, that too.” Sebastian gave him a slow, lazy smile and peered at him through long lashes. “Is it okay if I kiss you again, though?” Despite what he’d said about having plenty of time, the shy, seductive request sparked a slow burn in Adam’s stomach, and he leaned in close. He paused, waiting for Sebastian

to close the distance. Their lips brushed chastely at first; then Sebastian deepened the kiss. Their tongues brushed lazily together, and Sebastian sighed, the sound spreading through Adam’s body like a warm breeze. He slid his hand across Sebastian’s stomach, fingers curling possessively over the smooth swell of hip. Sebastian turned in to his embrace, their bodies fitting together as if they’d been made for it. They broke the kiss half a dozen times only to come back together each time until they stopped, lips hovering close, panting into each other’s mouths. “You’re beautiful.” Sebastian’s breath skimmed Adam’s lips, sending a shiver down his spine. Adam traced his thumb across the small of Sebastian’s back in retaliation, smiling when the smaller man shuddered against him. “You’re one to talk.” He let his tongue trace the soft edge of Sebastian’s upper lip, tasting the salt there. “You’re so fucking pretty. Can’t get you out of my head.” He took a moment to steal a kiss, the hand on Sebastian’s back pulling him closer, pressing their hips together. “You know, you’re the only person we’ve had sex with more than once.” Sebastian jumped like someone had shocked him, and his eyes went big and round. “Th-the only one?”

Adam nodded and sealed their mouths together, licking deep, and rubbed his dick against Sebastian’s thigh. As much as he tried to shut off his brain, and as much as his body’s response was trying to help with that, his thoughts still shook with uncertainty. Last night, he’d thought Keith wanted Sebastian instead of Adam. This morning, it had sounded more like the longterm arrangement he’d been talking about was the three of them, and wow, would that ever change the dynamic. It was one thing to be a swinger couple with an occasional third; it would be completely different to bring Sebastian in as an equal partner. As much as he liked Sebastian, as much as Sebastian filled an emotional spot Adam hadn’t known was empty, he didn’t know if he wanted to take that risk yet. Sebastian writhed and groaned under Adam’s kiss, and he thought about what he’d confessed to the kid. It was possible that telling Sebastian how much of an exception he was wasn’t doing him any favors. Maybe Adam was doing exactly what he’d told Keith they shouldn’t do and was putting pressure on him. The kiss gentled, but every time Adam tried to pull away, he couldn’t help dipping in again for more. When they finally parted, Adam stared at the flushed, ravished man beneath him and felt his heart stutter with a realization. Not only was Sebastian the only third they’d invited back for more, he

was the only person besides Keith that Adam had ever spent so much time just kissing. “Shit,” he murmured, and Sebastian gave him a blinding smile. “Get used to it,” indeed. His life was about to get a hell of a lot more complicated. ****

Adam should have known that Keith’s manager wasn’t the only one who would flip out over the pictures of them with Sebastian. The phone rang just when Adam had taken a huge bite out of an apple, trying to dampen the appetite he’d worked up with Sebastian. He checked the caller ID and frowned, then swallowed and answered. “Hey, Karen. What’s up?” “Funny thing, Ad, I was about to ask you the same question.” He could almost hear the look she was surely giving him. “I’m used to seeing your beau in the virtual papers, but lo and behold, there’s my client’s face on the front page of all the gossip sites.” Adam sighed, deliberately loud, but Karen didn’t so much as pause.

“And I have to say, that is a very pretty boy you have hanging off you. I’m surprised no one’s asking you how old he is.” “Old enough they let him into the club and served him alcohol,” Adam snapped. He’d caught a fair bit of abuse for his age when he and Keith had started dating, though mostly playful jabs about how he’d better enjoy it while he could before Keith left him for someone younger and better looking. Sebastian was even younger than Keith, and despite his reassurance that morning that he found Adam attractive, Adam knew he couldn’t count on the novelty of a celebrity crush to hold the kid’s attention for long. “Oh, touchy subject. I forgot.” The smirk in Karen’s voice said she hadn’t forgotten at all. “Look, I know you and Keith have something of an unconventional relationship going on, so what I need to know is how you want to spin this.” Adam crunched into the apple again and chewed as he thought. Karen waited, and he almost wished she’d make some suggestions. “Well,” he said after he swallowed, “I think Keith is in a meeting with his manager right now to decide how they want to handle it, so I guess we can take our cue from them.” The sound Karen made wasn’t encouraging. “Is he still with Grissom? Cause I gotta tell you, I do not like that man.”

Adam smiled. “You tell me that every chance you get, Karen.” “I know, but it deserves repeating. Okay, listen. Boyfriends is not a conservative show. It makes a lot of its image on unconventional sexuality and the implication that many of its characters are kinky bastards. People make that association about its actors as well.” Karen wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. Adam’s character Jamie had once sustained a threeepisode subplot about his taste for sexual roleplay, complete with ridiculously elaborate costumes and questionable props. “Your point?” “My point, you ass, is that people don’t expect you to be chaste or even terribly vanilla, but whether they buy this will depend on how we sell it to them.” Adam sighed. “All things considered, I’d rather not have to sell them my personal life.” Karen made a noise, but he continued right over her. “I know, I know. Cost of celebrity and all that jazz. It’s just that we don’t know where this is going. I’d rather tell everyone the truth, but I don’t know what that is yet.” “Try telling me the situation first, and let’s see how that goes over.”

Adam frowned and checked over his shoulder for any sign of Sebastian. Fuck, this was turning into a mess. “Well, you know Keith and I have an open relationship, but up until now, we’ve only had casual, one-time partners.” He hesitated, trying to find the best way to explain Sebastian. “Until now?” Karen ventured. “Does that mean this”—she paused as if she were trying to remember something —“Sebastian Keane is serious?” A chill of fear slid into Adam’s gut. “How do you know his name?” “Oh, honey.” There was no mistaking the pity in her voice. “It’s all over the Internet. I’m guessing that’s not a good thing.” “Shit.” Adam rubbed his forehead, trying to ward off what was threatening to be a spectacular headache. “I don’t know. He…he has his own life. I never meant for him to get so tangled up in this.” “So he’s not serious?” “I don’t know! We’re considering things. I mean, normal relationships are allowed to be uncertain and figure out where they’re going, aren’t they?” “Normal as in…?”

Adam snorted. “As in noncelebrity, you brat.” Of course, the rest of the world probably would have thought the multiple same-sex partners bit was more abnormal than celebrity relationships, but that showed what they knew. He could almost hear her shrug. “I wouldn’t know.” He heard the front door open and turned, peering down the hallway to see Keith. He couldn’t read his lover’s body language, not even enough to get a hint of how the meeting with Grissom had gone. “Hey, Karen, Keith just got home. Let me go talk to him, and I’ll call you back when we know what we’re doing.” “All right. But don’t wait too long—time is power. The longer you wait, the more the story’s going to tell itself without your input.” Adam winced. “Right. Thanks.” Chapter Seventeen

Lips swollen and hot from Adam’s kisses—and wasn’t that thought enough to make him dizzy—Sebastian finally remembered he had never told Jason he’d made it to Los Angeles safe and sound. Come to think of it, he was surprised Jason hadn’t called him. If it were anyone else,

Sebastian might have thought they were afraid to interrupt all the sex they knew he’d be having, but this was his roommate. Subtlety and discretion were not among Jason’s list of virtues. When he finally found his phone, it became obvious why Jason seemed to have suddenly developed a severe case of tact—the battery was dead. Of course. The charger was in his luggage, which was in the guest bedroom, which he hadn’t slept in since arriving. Sure, he’d gone and ferreted out clothes on the rare occasion he’d needed something of his own, but he hadn’t unpacked. Time to fix that. He found the charger first and plugged it in, then started unpacking his clothes. He wondered why he was bothering, since he was only going to be there a few more days and probably wouldn’t be spending much of that time in the guest room, but he liked the tiny thrill it gave him, as if he were sneakily moving in. “They’ll just have to get used to it.” What on earth had Keith meant? There were any number of possible ways to take that statement, all of which were risky assumptions to make. Had he meant the public would have to get used to Sebastian specifically, or simply to the idea of Keith and Adam having a third? “You’re the only person we’ve had sex with more than

once.” A warm glow fluttered in his rib cage, beneath his heart. No matter what was going on, they did really like him—or at least, they really liked sex with him, and that was almost as good. With half his clothes in the dresser and the other half still in his suitcase, he paused to check his phone. It had enough charge that he should be able to turn it on without it dying immediately, so he sat down and held the Power button. He expected to have several unread messages from Jason, most of them obnoxious and intrusive, and probably more than half asking for dick pictures—of Adam and Keith, anyway. Sebastian doubted Jason had any real interest in seeing his dick. He wasn’t expecting to watch his unread messages count keep climbing past ten…fifteen…twenty… When it hit thirtyfive, his eyes widened. He couldn’t open any until they were all in, since the phone would just stall and freeze, but how many more could there possibly be? When the deluge finally stopped, there were fifty-six text messages, thirteen voice-mail messages, and twentyseven missed calls, and Sebastian was almost scared to look at them. Had something terrible happened in the two days he hadn’t checked his phone?

Jason was, unsurprisingly, his most recent message—and twenty-three of the total count—but a quick glance told him that people he hadn’t talked to in ages, some of them whose numbers he didn’t recognize, had seen fit to add to the barrage. He opened Jason’s first, hoping it would at least explain the situation before he waded into the rest of it. He read each succeeding message with a sinking feeling, and by the time he’d finished all of them, he was shaking, chilled, and sick to his stomach. Several of the texts were congratulatory in nature. Several more were lewd, suggesting acts they’d like to do to him, many of which sounded physically impossible. One was a picture of a dick from a number he didn’t recognize, no message attached. There were multiple voice-mail messages from his mother asking if he was all right, if he needed money, if he was in any kind of trouble, and one from his grandfather telling him not to bother coming to the reunion in the summer because it was only for family. All of this was explained by Jason’s texts, the tone shifting from teasing to worried and culminating with, Dude, we

recognized you right away. Everyone from school is talking about it. You’re freaking famous. Are you okay? The pictures he’d seen on Keith’s phone that morning hadn’t seemed quite so bad when his name hadn’t been

attached, when his family and friends hadn’t seen them and recognized him. When apparently the entire student body at his university—or at least the ones Jason hung out with over winter break, which was probably most of them—didn’t know yet that he was fucking two men. At the same time. Together. The icing on the cake, though, was the voice mail from his internship. Expressing concern for their public image, they had regretfully withdrawn their offer and wished him success in all his future endeavors. He wanted to throw up. He supposed that if he’d stopped to think about it, he might have realized that his choices would have repercussions. He might have gotten away with any one variable in the equation—a male partner, two partners, or a celebrity partner—but not all three. Not that there was anything he could do about it now. The cat was out of the bag. And if it were just him, he’d say maybe that was a good thing, but how would it affect Keith and Adam? And were they serious about saying people would have to “get used to it”? That wasn’t such a bad feeling. It would still hurt that so many people instantly reduced him to his sex life, but it might be okay as long as he still had some support. Keith. Adam. Jason. Maybe his mother. Probably not his father— she hadn’t mentioned him other than to say “Your father

and I are worried about you,” and that could mean any one of a hundred things. He took a moment to send texts to Jason and his mother to let them know he was all right. No one else really needed to know, especially not when he was so distracted he could barely construct a simple sentence. Voices from downstairs caught his attention, and he stared uncertainly at the doorway. He couldn’t tell if Adam and Keith were fighting or just talking. He assumed they would already know about this. Keith had seen those pictures this morning, after all. Maybe it wouldn’t make so much of a difference that the press knew his name now. Or maybe it would. Maybe he should stay where he was and let them work it out without him. The choice was taken out of his hands when Adam appeared at the doorway, looking very concerned, tapping his phone against his thigh nervously. “Hey, there you are.” Adam’s smile was distracted, not at all like his heated, tender gaze while they’d been rolling around on the bed, kissing each other to within an inch of their lives. He glanced at Sebastian’s phone and seemed to take in his shell-shocked appearance, and his smile turned more sympathetic. “I guess you heard, huh?” Sebastian held up his phone, his mouth twisting wryly.

“From everyone I know and a few people I don’t.” Keith appeared and slipped past Adam, coming into the room and sitting beside Sebastian on the bed. “I’m sorry, kitten. We should’ve known something like this would happen, but this is kind of new territory for us.” He slipped his arm around Sebastian’s shoulders and kissed the side of his head. “Are you okay?” Sebastian laughed drily. “Yeah. My best friend and my mom are still speaking to me, even if my grandfather and my internship aren’t.” Keith squeezed him tighter, and Adam straightened from where he’d been leaning against the door frame. “Your internship?” “They left a message on my phone that they’re withdrawing their offer. They said they aren’t sure I’m a good match for their ‘image.’” He reached up and flicked his long blond bangs out of his eyes. “Just as well. They probably would’ve made me cut my hair.” Keith kissed his temple again, and Adam finally came into the room, squatting and resting his arms on Sebastian’s knees. It put them almost at eye level. “I’m really sorry. Keith and I just got out of meetings with our agents, and they want us to issue a statement about this.” He rubbed up and down Sebastian’s thighs, and the rasp of denim under his hands

was comforting. “We’re going to tell them that you’re just a friend, that we’re not sleeping with you, and that the salesman at Nordstrom was mistaken or lying when he said we had sex in the dressing room.” Sebastian’s head snapped up. “We didn’t have sex in the dressing room.” “Exactly.” Adam kissed his hand. “So it will all be over shortly, and after your visit, you can go home to your normal life and never have to deal with this again.” Sebastian froze. He barely noticed Adam kissing his stomach and only turned in to Keith’s kiss at the last moment. It still landed to the side of his mouth, sloppy and eager, and he fought down his buzzing thoughts long enough to get the angle right and let Keith kiss him like he wanted to. Adam seemed to notice his discomfort first and sat back, hands rasping over Sebastian’s thighs as they had earlier. “We’ll give you some time. Come down when you’re done and we’ll have dinner. At home, this time.” He linked hands with Keith and stood, pulling his lover from the bed, though Keith managed to plant one last kiss on the tip of Sebastian’s nose. “We’ll see you at dinner, kitten,” Keith promised. Sebastian was still sitting there, staring, when the door closed softly

behind them.

ALL THROUGH DINNER, he couldn’t stop thinking. He barely tasted the delicious food one of Keith’s assistants had brought by, and he knew his participation in conversation was stilted at best. He had known, in the logical part of his mind, that this thing wouldn’t last. He’d known he was only a fun bit on the side for them. He’d already given himself that pep talk. It was just that he’d let their tenderness convince him otherwise—all the talk about how he was their only repeat, about how other people would have to get used to seeing him with them. He’d let himself believe that meant more than it did. He knew better now. Adam had set him straight. “You can go home to your normal life and never have to deal with this again.” Of course, now that he knew this was going to be the last chance he got, that clarified a few things for him. Some possibilities he’d been toying with since the first time they’d slept together in Charlotte were either going to happen now or not at all, and he didn’t like the “not at all” option. “I want you both.” The words burst out of him so suddenly that Keith froze

midsentence, Adam stopped midchew, and they both swiveled to look at him, surprised and maybe a little concerned. He took a deep breath and continued. “At the same time. Together. Before I go home.” Keith gave him a confused look. “Haven’t we been doing that?” Sebastian could feel himself blush. His ears were practically on fire. “No, not like… I want you both. I-inside me. At the same time.” Keith blinked, and Adam choked as he tried to swallow his mouthful of food. A sip of water and some throat-clearings later, Adam rasped, “Sweetie, I’m not sure—” But Sebastian had his mind made up. If he was going to go back to his normal life after this, if he wasn’t going to get another chance, then he was damn well going to have everything he wanted. It was Thanksgiving, Christmas, and his birthday all rolled into one. Pain would fade. Injuries would heal. But he wanted this one thing to have forever. “I can take it. I want to.” He pleaded with Adam with his eyes and watched the other man visibly struggle. Keith was sitting back, looking between them. “Please.” His face was so hot now it had to be bright red. “I practiced. I…I want this.”

Adam set his glass down very deliberately and studied first Sebastian, then Keith. “These things take preparation. Time. I don’t know if we have enough time before you go home.” Sebastian’s stomach clenched. They definitely wouldn’t have enough time after he went home! He took a deep breath, but before he could attempt to convince Adam to give it a try, Keith spoke up. “Maybe if we take it slow.” He glanced from Adam to Sebastian and back again. “And if he promises to tell us if it hurts, at which point we’ll stop.” Adam still didn’t look convinced, but Sebastian seized the opportunity. “Yes! If it hurts too much, I’ll tell you to stop, and we won’t try it again.” Adam’s eyes on his were suddenly fierce. “You promise?” When Sebastian nodded, he pointed at him and demanded, “Say it. Say you promise.” Everything about the man said he wasn’t taking this lightly, and Sebastian nodded slowly again, saying very deliberately, “I promise to tell you if it’s too much.” Adam stared hard at him for several moments before he finally picked up his fork again and took another bite of chicken cacciatore. Sebastian finally managed to take a

bite of his instead of pushing it around on his plate, but as he did, a new worry occupied his attention. Adam’s hand had been shaking. ****

Sebastian couldn’t decide whether the knots in his stomach were anticipation or nervousness. Probably a whole lot of both. Keith had helped him prepare, clean, and stretch while Adam got the bedroom ready, and he reminded himself he could stop the whole thing with a word at any time. Adam and Keith would both be listening for it. As if he could sense Sebastian’s tension—and he probably could through the tightly coiled muscles under his hands— Keith dropped a kiss on the back of his neck. “We’ll take good care of you, kitten,” Keith murmured against the shell of his ear. He reached back to grab Keith’s head, turning so that Keith’s lips brushed his cheek, arching his neck to get a kiss. Keith obliged him, arms slipping down and around his waist, pulling him back against a warm wall of skin and muscle. Soft lips found his mouth, and the kiss was gentler than Sebastian had expected, full of reassurance and comfort and more tenderness than he’d known Keith was capable of.

He sensed another body in front of him bare moments before Adam pressed against him, arms going around him and Keith both. Sebastian broke away from Keith’s mouth to press a kiss to Adam’s throat, up over his chin and lips. Then Adam kissed Keith and glanced toward the bed. “Ready?” Sebastian took a deep breath and nodded, and Keith rubbed his upper arms soothingly as they moved as a unit to the mattress. Adam gave him a reassuring smile and lay back on the bed, spreading out, all long limbs and tousled blond hair, faint freckles scattered across his pale skin. Worry fled, and he crawled up over Adam, crouching low enough to kiss him. Adam stroked fingertips down his spine, and Sebastian shivered at the ticklish sensation. “Turn over,” Adam murmured at his ear, dragging his fingers back up the path they’d just taken to cup his nape. It was a little awkward, but Sebastian obeyed. As he settled onto his back with Adam’s arms around his chest, Keith met his eyes and grinned. Without being told, Sebastian opened his legs, planting his heels on the mattress on either side of Adam’s thighs. Adam stroked his stomach, and Keith slipped two fingers into him. After their careful stretching and generous applications of lube, Sebastian took the fingers easily. That was good—there was a lot

more to go. He didn’t want to be feeling it already. Keith dropped a kiss on Sebastian’s dick while he stroked Adam to full hardness and rolled a condom onto him. More lube—no such thing as too much, not in this situation—and then Keith was pressing the tip of Adam’s erection into Sebastian’s hole. Sebastian took a deep breath and relaxed, and Adam kissed the side of his neck. Taking Adam was easier now than it had been the first time. Sebastian let out his breath in a sigh at the familiar slide. Adam rolled his hips slowly, pushing himself deeper in small, circular movements that pressed against all the right places. They couldn’t get very deep in this position without some serious effort, but that wasn’t the point. When Keith’s finger slid in beside Adam’s dick, Adam and Sebastian both gasped. Adam stilled, and Keith added a second finger, using them to rub the straining edges of Sebastian’s hole with soothing strokes. Keith spread his fingers, stretching Sebastian more, and shivers worked their way through Sebastian’s muscles. He felt answering shudders in Adam and smiled around a gasp. Keith took his time, working slowly, and Sebastian felt all his residual tension bleed out until he was practically a puddle on Adam’s chest, nearly purring as his lovers’ hands stroked him inside and out. Despite his languid arousal, he might have drowsed, but

Keith removed his fingers—and then he felt the most intense pressure of his life as Keith finally pushed in. Chapter Eighteen

Even though he felt like he’d been going slow for hours, Keith still took his time as he pressed his cock into Baz. It was a tight fit, Baz’s walls squeezing him hard against Adam’s cock, and it nearly took his breath away. Even through the condoms they both wore, Keith could feel the ridge of Adam’s cockhead catch on his own. Pleasure flared, deep and red, and he stopped moving altogether to keep himself from thrusting too sharply. He braced himself with hands on Baz’s hips, panting for air, and dragged his gaze up the two men in front of him. Baz’s smaller body sprawled over Adam’s, legs splayed wide, a dark flush working its way down over his throat and chest. Adam was clutching him—cradling him, really, both of his long arms locked across Baz’s chest and stomach. Their faces, flushed and sweaty, pressed cheek to cheek, were beautiful, and Keith felt his already erratic pulse stutter hard. Adam watched him through hazy eyes, and when Keith reached down to stroke Baz’s dick, Adam peeled his hand off Baz’s sweaty stomach to join him. Their fingers bumped

and linked, pulling together, and Baz groaned, arching and pushing himself down farther on their cocks. Keith lost his breath in a rush, Adam let out a sound like he was dying, and Baz’s voice hitched on what sounded like a sob. “You okay?” Adam rasped, as hoarse as Keith had ever heard him. He stroked Baz’s chest, and the younger man nodded. “Fine.” Baz’s voice was thin and reedy, but he seemed all right. Keith’s dick throbbed, and he couldn’t stop the little reflexive buck of his hips that made all three of them groan. Baz nodded again and licked his lips. “K-keep…keep going.” Keith began moving steadily, reining himself in as best he could. How Adam was managing to keep from pounding up into Baz’s body, Keith had no idea. It was all Keith could do to keep his thrusts smooth and shallow instead of rutting into the vise grip like a mindless animal. Feeling Adam’s dick slip and slide against his inside Baz’s body was eating all his self control. When Adam met his eyes over Baz’s shoulder at the same moment their cockheads slid past each other, all the best colors in the world exploded in his chest, like fireworks sparkling through him. Suddenly he couldn’t breathe, caught in a whirl of heat and pressure and

the knowledge that, after all the sex games he and Adam had ever played, this one had just stopped being a game. At some point between October and now, the young man writhing between them, speared on their cocks, had become a piece he hadn’t known they were missing. And when Baz opened his eyes and stared straight at him, Keith shattered. ****

The irony of the timing wasn’t lost on Keith. A mere hour after they’d allowed their agents to disseminate the story that Baz was “just a good friend,” Keith was surer than ever that he was in love…or at least had a good head start on getting there. He knew he was full of endorphins—he still felt the softwhite glow of his powerful orgasm lingering in his bones— and that wasn’t a great time to be making decisions, but he also knew he’d really already made that decision. He’d told Adam earlier he didn’t want this to be their last time with Baz, but now he was starting to see that he wanted to change their whole structure. He didn’t want to be a couple who sometimes played with a third, even if that third was always Baz.

He wanted to be all of them, together, in one relationship. Equals. And boy, did he know that was a lot to ask. Both his lovers slept beside him, exhaustion written in the lines of their bodies, contentment in their faces. Keith was just as tired, but he couldn’t sleep, too full of a rainbow of emotions that bounced around inside him like his rib cage was made of prisms and mirrors. He felt as full of rightness as he had the day after he’d met Adam, the day he’d woken up in Adam’s apartment, sharing a mattress on the floor, sheets tangled around them, covered in lovebites and bruises. He was sorry they’d had to send out the press release they had. He would like to have made an announcement that these were his partners, plural, and nobody was cheating on anybody. But it wasn’t time for that yet. Nobody but Keith was even on that page, as usual, and he’d have to keep his feelings to himself for a little longer if he could. Two more days until Baz went home, and then he could at least talk to Adam. They could figure things out. And hopefully it wouldn’t all go to hell in a handbasket in the meantime. ****

The next day, by unspoken agreement, they all avoided the

outside world, going so far as to silence their cell phones. Keith remembered with amusement that this very phenomenon was exactly why he and Adam were such homebodies. Adam liked things quiet, and Keith got all his extraversion out on tour, ready to take advantage of his downtime when he got home. Plus, the less they went out, the less chance they had of ending up in the tabloids and getting caught up in exactly what they were going through now. Sex was off the menu too, since Baz was sorer than he thought he’d be, though he maintained he didn’t regret it for a moment. He insisted Adam and Keith were welcome to have sex that didn’t involve him, or at least didn’t involve his ass, but even though Keith’s nerves were still buzzing with the aftereffects of their last encounter, he was too scattered to focus on sex, even with Adam. Adam didn’t push him either. Instead they all wore the most comfortable clothes they could find, curled up together on the huge couch in the entertainment room, and watched movies on the big flatscreen TV, practically a miniature cinema. Baz mischievously suggested watching old episodes of Boyfriends, which, of course, Adam had, as the DVDs had been sent to him by the production company. Even if they hadn’t been, Keith would have bought them. Adam was iffy about it, but in the end, they watched all of Season One and half of Season Two while they demolished two whole pizzas

and a two-liter of soda. During the Season One finale, Baz swallowed his bite of meat lovers’ pizza (ordered with much snickering and rolling of eyes) and pointed at the screen with the triangular slice. “That Wesley Scotts guy is an ass. I still don’t like him. He’s a dick to Jamie.” Keith snorted, and on Baz’s other side, Adam chuckled. “What, you don’t think Jamie deserves it?” “Hell no!” Baz seemed completely unaware of—or at least unconcerned with—Keith’s sudden fit of cough-covered giggles, wound up as he was. “Look, so Jamie outed him. But he didn’t know Wesley wasn’t out yet. I mean, as far as he knew, he was doing his best friend a favor. ‘Hey, this douchebag you’re dating blew me in the club last night. Thought you should know.’” Adam grinned wolfishly. “You think he didn’t know?” Keith watched Adam’s big hand land on Baz’s thigh, squeezing gently. “I mean, he’s Maria’s best friend. He would know if she knows her boyfriend’s fucking dudes on the side or not. Maybe he was jealous of his best friend not paying attention to him anymore now that she’s got a new boyfriend. Or maybe he was getting back at Wesley for dumping him and then coming back for ex-sex.” Keith knew Adam was playing devil’s advocate just to bait

Baz. Not only had the Jamie/Wesley storyline not been his favorite, Adam hated Cameron Bryce, the actor who played Wesley, and had complained vociferously the day he got home from filming one of their makeout scenes. It was so unlike him that Keith often wondered if maybe Cameron had propositioned Adam and was a pain about taking no for an answer. Adam didn’t sleep with coworkers, and Cameron wouldn’t have been the first to try to convince him otherwise. But Adam never talked about it, and Keith didn’t find it important enough to ask. Baz frowned. “But I like Jamie.” Adam laughed and kissed his temple. “He’s still kind of a jerk. But you’re right, Wes is an ass.” They had ice cream for dessert, and when Baz fell asleep between them on the couch, clearly exhausted no matter how much he protested, Keith took the dishes to the kitchen while Adam carried their lover up to bed. He hesitated by the guest room, clearly conflicted about where Baz might like to sleep, and Keith found him standing there, looking indecisive. “You could always wake him up to ask him,” Keith murmured, hand low on Adam’s back in support. “But I vote for our bed. With us.” Adam smiled and leaned over awkwardly to kiss him. Baz

stirred in his arms, murmuring sleepily, but didn’t wake. Keith’s heart thudded, feeling the swirl of colors that wanted to be let out, but he choked them back, biting down on the words he wanted to say. Adam wanted to wait, to talk about things, and Keith owed him that, even though the colors dimmed when he shoved them down. They curled up in bed together, Baz between them in an unspoken agreement to make him feel as included as possible. Keith imagined it wouldn’t be very warm and fuzzy to wake up on the edge of the bed while your lovers cuddled on the other side like the established couple they were. Adam fell asleep quickly, lulled into drowsiness by their dinner and dessert, but Keith felt like someone had uncaged a whole hive of bees under his skin. Sleep was not in the cards. He fidgeted on his side of the bed, not wanting to get up for fear of waking the other two and knowing it would worry Adam to find him out of bed. But the expensive, top-of-the-line mattress felt as lumpy as a bag of potatoes, and he finally had to give up. He crept out from under the covers and slipped on a pair of soft lounge pants. His throat felt dry, and he longed for a swig of whiskey, but he hadn’t drunk since the time Adam had left him over it, and he wasn’t about to start now, no matter how good a nightcap sounded.

Instead he made a detour to the kitchen and dug in the back of the junk drawer for his secret stash of cigarettes. He almost never smoked them—not only did Adam dislike the taste in his mouth, Keith couldn’t stand the lingering smell on himself—but he needed something for his nerves, and it was either going to be whiskey, sex, or cigarettes. He wasn’t touching the first and his options for the second were currently asleep and sore and probably sexed-out for a while, so that left this pack of old, probably stale menthols. He palmed one of the sticks and a lighter and let himself out into the backyard. It had stopped raining, and the grass was wet under his bare feet, the night air chilly and moist. He took a deep breath before he lit the cigarette. The first drag was a rush of bitter, stale smoke—obviously far past its prime—but the second was a little better. By the third, tendrils of cool, misty-gray calm were beginning to thread through him. The advantage to not smoking often was that it didn’t take much to give him a buzz, and he sucked strongly on the filter, reveling in the light-headed sensation that followed his exhale. He could still feel the tangle of emotions and the hum of the bees under his skin, but everything was shadowed, muted. He chased an exhale with a lick of his lips, picking up the lingering hint of mint, and felt another surge of desire for a whiskey chaser.

That worried him, and he frowned, nervously flicking the ash off the end of the cigarette. He didn’t have any whiskey in the house, which made it a little easier, but it wouldn’t be hard at all to get some. He had people. He could call someone, even now, past midnight, who would bring him whiskey. Who would probably tell Adam. Adam, who, even if Keith’s smugglers kept his secrets, would find out somehow and would be disappointed. Would worry. With a sigh, he took a long, deep drag on the cigarette, holding the smoke inside for as long as he could before he let it drift out of his mouth. He ground out the butt in the dirt, then took it inside to throw it away. Tossing it in the yard would probably bring the house down around his ears, but leaving it in the trashcan would make the kitchen smell terrible, like wet ashes, so his only real option was to take out the garbage. At one in the morning. He glanced down at his bare feet, his pajama bottoms, his bare chest, and wondered if he should put more clothes on. There was always the chance that an ambitious paparazzo was waiting outside in the bushes—or in the garbage can —but at this hour, it was a slim one. Plus, maybe the red herring they’d thrown to the media would buy them a brief reprieve.

And then he opened the front door to the wailing of an alarm and the bright pop of a camera flash, and without a single drop of guilt, he wished he’d had a bottle of whiskey after all. Chapter Nineteen

Possibly the best thing about Keith accidentally setting off the alarm by opening the front door without entering the code was that it meant the police arrived quickly enough to keep Keith from beating the paparazzo to a pulp with his own camera and a garbage bag. The red and blue lights washed over the yard and house, sirens off in deference to the time of night in a high-end neighborhood, making the scene in front of Adam look like something out of a cops-and-robbers show. Keith was straddling a man in the yard, long, eerie shadows jumping from their forms and from the black lump of the trash bag beside them. He had to wonder what the hell Keith had been doing taking out the trash at one in the morning. Sebastian stumbled to the doorway next to him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, looking small and pale and young in only a pair of boxers. Adam saw the young man sway toward him and then straighten, as if he’d been about to lean into him and then thought better of it. Adam’s skin

ached with the loss of potential touch, but it was for the best. Too many witnesses. One of whom was being interrogated rather roughly on the front lawn. “What the fuck are you doing?” Keith shouted as two of the officers attempted to move him away from the prone photographer. The man stumbled to his feet, one hand cupping his nose in a way that made Adam think Keith had probably taken a swing at it. “My camera,” the photographer said, pointing to something Keith held in his left hand. “I need—He deleted—Give me my camera!” “Not until you answer my fucking question!” Keith shouted back, keeping the camera away from the officer who reached for it. “What were you doing in my yard?” “Calm down, dude. Some guy told me there was a scoop, that’s all.” “What guy?” Keith demanded, finally losing the camera to a police officer who confiscated it, much to the photographer’s dismay. “What scoop?” One of the officers took Keith’s arm and tried to encourage him to move back toward the house. “Sir, if you’ll just—”

“What guy?” Keith shouted, struggling against the officer’s hold, and Adam finally stepped out of the doorway and into the yard, putting his arm around Keith to do what the officer couldn’t. Keith didn’t fight Adam, but he didn’t take his attention off the photographer either. “He knows him,” the photographer said, pointing to Adam. “In a TV show with him. Said the press release was a lie, said you two really are fucking your little buddy. Gave me your address.” “Are you fucking kidding me?” Keith’s disbelief echoed Adam’s thoughts so perfectly that for a moment he wasn’t sure which of them had spoken. The police stepped in between them and the intruder, assuring them they’d take care of the problem, and since the snoop had actually been on their front lawn instead of a more neutral location—like the street—he was promptly arrested on charges of trespassing and invasion of privacy. Now, back inside with the door closed and locked, the alarm reset, Adam was trying to tell himself it wouldn’t do any good to call Cameron Bryce at one-thirty a.m. to ream him out. He had no proof Cameron was actually the culprit, since the pap hadn’t named names in a halfhearted effort to protect his source, but he’d long suspected the man had it out for him. He’d been willing to write it off as professional rivalry, some kind of run-of-the-mill competition that happened in Hollywood. He’d been annoyed but willing to

ignore it. Until now. He had no idea what Cameron could hope to accomplish by sending a photographer to stake out their front yard or what the fuck made him think the press release was a lie. Adam didn’t talk about his arrangement with Keith to his coworkers. They didn’t talk about their arrangement with anyone they weren’t planning to sleep with, actually. Did Cameron make a lucky guess, or did he somehow know what was going on with the pretty-faced, sleepy-eyed young man currently curled up against Keith on the couch? And did he think he could sabotage Adam with that knowledge? Maybe he could. That had been Karen’s main concern when she’d been playing the good agent and advising him to make “We’re just friends” his official story and stick to it. “Think about your career—about Keith’s career.” Adam had been more worried about Sebastian. As Karen had already acknowledged, they could spin the truth any way they wanted to, and he and Keith were never going to make anyone’s list of squeaky-clean conservatism. But Sebastian hadn’t asked for any of this. He wasn’t famous. He had no ambition to be famous. For him, there was such a thing as bad press—it could ruin his career.

It had already ruined his internship. They’d dodged a bullet tonight. The photographer hadn’t gotten anything incriminating, just Keith being an insomniac. The camera had already been wrenched out of his hands by the time Adam and Sebastian had stumbled to the door, jolted awake by the alarm. They might keep dodging bullets, but with their lifestyle, sooner or later, someone was going to catch on. They couldn’t make the pap keep his mouth shut. He’d probably write a story about it, recycling the original photos. After the possibility was introduced, the tabloid speculation would take on a different note. Everyone from delivery boys to lifelong friends would be suspected of being their third. And sometimes it would be true. Movement on the couch caught his eye, and he glanced over in time to see Keith placing a tender kiss on Sebastian’s forehead, smoothing back his hair and stroking down his neck. Sebastian shifted, turning more into Keith’s embrace. The sight of his two lovers cuddling flooded him with emotion, everything from affection to protectiveness, and he thought of what Keith had said. “I want him.” He felt an answering thrum in his chest, an echo of

rightness, and frowned. Aside from his natural tendency not to rush into anything, Sebastian was going home the next day. Now was not the time to bring new dynamics into their relationship. But when Sebastian and Keith got up and headed toward the bedroom, pausing and turning at the bottom of the stairs to wait for him, Adam had to wonder if that ship had already sailed. ****

No one could say Cameron Bryce didn’t think big enough. Apparently the tabloid journalist from that morning wasn’t the only one he’d set on their trail, just the first, the fastest, and the most foolhardy. By the time they woke up at a more reasonable hour, there were clumps of photographers milling around the end of their driveway but wisely staying off their actual property and not blocking the road. Unfortunately all their by-the-book behavior meant Adam couldn’t call the cops on them. It didn’t mean he couldn’t periodically peer through the blinds to see if they’d given up yet. Of course they hadn’t. If anything, they’d multiplied, and finally he turned away in disgust and went to find his lovers. They weren’t in either of the bedrooms, the living room, or in the hot tub, but he did

finally find them in the kitchen, sitting at the table. They sat kitty-corner to each other, a messy pile of cards between them, guarding neater stacks in front of them. Keith’s stack was larger than Sebastian’s, and they were both counting as Sebastian turned over one card after another. “…three…four…ha! I win!” Keith beamed, Sebastian scowled, and Keith leaned across the corner of the table. “With tongue,” he said. Adam propped himself against the door frame and watched as Sebastian rolled his eyes, sighed with mock aggrievance, and gave Keith a sloppy, sexy kiss. Definitely with tongue. “What are you two playing?” Adam wanted to know when they pulled apart. “Strip Jack Naked,” Keith said. “Which is a cocktease of a name, because it doesn’t involve stripping anybody naked.” Sebastian’s eyebrow quirked up, and he licked his reddened lips before adding, “So Keith modified the rules. Now instead of just winning the cards in the pile”—he gestured to the messy pile in the middle that Keith was now gathering to himself with greedy chuckles—“he also wins a favor of some kind.” “Above the waist only,” Keith complained, and Adam

chuckled. “Do you want to play?” Sebastian asked, idly riffling the small stack of cards he held in his hand. “It’s a two-player game, but it can be modified for a threeway.” A devil’s grin played at his pretty mouth, but Adam laughed. He could see the hungry edge in the way Keith watched Sebastian. “Thanks, but I think I’m still too distracted by the people with cameras practically in my front yard. You two would beat the pants off me.” Before either of them could protest that he wasn’t exactly deterring them, he forged on. “Karen sent over the interview questions from that late-night talk show I’m supposed to go on next week. I think I’ll go over those for a while and see if I can come up with some clever responses.” He leaned over and kissed both his lovers in turn, and then settled himself in the living room with the pages of questions he’d printed out. He stared at the first question— something safe about where he was from, how he ended up in LA—and skipped it. A few more questions about what movies he liked, what music he was listening to, and then, predictably, about his relationship with Keith.

You’ve been famously dating Keith Black for almost three years now. Nobody thought you’d last three months. What’s your secret?

That might not have been a loaded question when the show wrote it, but damn if it wasn’t going to be a minefield to navigate now. No matter what Adam said, someone was going to suggest that their real secret was they slept with other people. He sighed and drew a squiggly line in the corner of the page that eventually grew into a geometric pattern walking down the margins. His usual style was to cut those questions off at the pass, to preempt them by spilling his secrets before someone could back him into a corner about them, but he’d backed himself into a corner here.

Well, you know, we’re both into threesomes, so that’s common ground right there. Right. And then Sebastian would come up. And then nobody would really believe their press release. It didn’t help that the press release really was a lie. Laughter drifted to him from the kitchen, carefree giggles spilling out of the room. It sounded innocent, and annoyance and affection spiked through him in equal measures, a flood of protectiveness. Affection for his lovers and their enjoyment of each other; annoyance that the whole world thought it was their business, their right to judge them for being tawdry. Adam had seen G-rated children’s movies that were more

tawdry than what was going on between the three of them. Just because there were more than two people didn’t make it cheap. Fuck that. Fuck all of it. He steadied the sheet of questions against his lap and underneath the impertinent What’s your secret? he wrote in heavy, emphatic script, We love each other. ****

Their last night together was spent curled up in bed, touching, cuddling, kissing. And even though the sex happened as an afterthought, it shook Adam to his core. He would have put Sebastian in the middle, lavished as much attention on him as possible, but they were still being careful after their adventure in double penetration. Instead Adam found himself sandwiched between the man he loved and the man he was falling for, thrusting into Keith below him as Sebastian filled him from behind. Their panting gusted against his neck; their sweat slicked his skin. Sebastian groaned and shook against his back, and Adam reached up to grab his hair as Keith curled up to kiss him through it, sloppy and awkward, Sebastian gasping for fevered breaths that Keith fed him from his own hungry mouth. Sebastian stayed plastered to Adam’s back even after he

slipped out, hands shaking against Adam’s ribs, and Keith groaned like a dying man as he trembled through his own climax. Adam couldn’t hold back a wordless cry as he came apart in his lovers’ arms, every muscle tense and twitching, every nerve alive with raw pleasure. “If this is wrong…” Sebastian whispered, then paused, jagged breaths interrupting him. Keith reached past Adam’s face and brushed Sebastian’s hair back, tracing fingertips along Adam’s ear on the way back. “Then fuck being right,” he finished, and Adam, too shaken for words, kissed his throat in utter agreement. ****

Adam wasn’t ready to let Sebastian go home. The realization spooked him, unsettled him in a way that even the media stalking hadn’t. Five days was enough time to set three lives on their ears and far too little to get his fill of this intoxicating new arrangement. He lay awake, both arms pinned under his lovers, unwilling to move even though his fingers were beginning to tingle from restricted circulation. The bedside clock assured him it was much too early to be awake, especially since Sebastian didn’t have to be at the airport for six and a half more hours. But his stomach twisted at the thought that it was only a little over six hours.

He knew it wasn’t fair, not with the way he’d told Keith they needed to talk first, not after he’d told Sebastian that he could go home and forget all about it, but he wanted reassurances. He wanted to know this wasn’t the end, that the relationship would continue. And he had no idea what to do about it. As the day wore on, he tried to give Sebastian space to let him pack. From what he’d gathered, apparently everyone he knew back home had seen the article about the three of them. And no matter what kind of defusing statement they’d issued, it was obvious from the pack of paparazzi still on the lawn that no one really believed it. And even if it had been true, if Sebastian was only a friend, Adam knew it would still be a problem. He went to college in a small town a little south of Charlotte, North Carolina, an area not as jaded by stardom as Los Angeles or New York. Being friends with two celebrities was news enough even without all the salacious details. Adam didn’t want to say he believed anything as drastic as that he and Keith had ruined Sebastian’s life, but they had probably made it a hell of a lot more difficult for him. So when it was time for Sebastian to go, Adam hesitated while Keith swept the younger man up in tight hugs and fond kisses trailing from his lips to his shoulder with a detour at his earlobe. And when Sebastian came to say

good-bye to Adam, it took far too long, arms wrapped around each other, for Adam to find his voice. “Do you want us to drive you to the airport?” Maybe in the car, on the way, there could be some hint of future plans. Some easy opportunity to say We should do this again, but without the photographers and the gossip. And if there wasn’t, it would at least give them a good forty-five more minutes together and one last kiss at the drop-off. Sebastian hesitated, and Adam pulled back enough to see his eyes dart to the side and an uncomfortable blush wend its way up his face. “Ah, that’s okay. The driver’s already on his way.” “We can call and cancel the car. That’s no problem.” Sebastian still looked uneasy, and Adam backtracked. “But if you’d rather we didn’t take you, that’s fine too.” Sebastian winced. “It’s not that.” His hand jerked as if he had been about to reach for Adam and thought better of it. Or maybe it had been involuntary; Adam couldn’t read anything in his lover’s body language or expression, and he felt suddenly chilled. It was like talking to a stranger. Just hours ago, he’d been so convinced that Sebastian was a piece they hadn’t known was missing from their lives, and now… “No, it’s fine.” Adam took a step back, trying to keep the

humiliation from his face. It was obvious Sebastian wanted to get away. Great sex could make up for only so much, and Adam had a feeling the media circus and the problems it was spawning were making Sebastian rethink the wisdom of being involved with celebrities. “Have a good flight.” He felt Keith’s arm slide around his waist and returned the gesture, tugging Keith close. The warmth of his body was comforting, especially when Sebastian didn’t meet either of their gazes when he said quietly, “Thank you.” The crunch of tires in the horseshoe driveway let them know the driver was there, and Sebastian hefted his suitcase and carry-on, refusing Keith’s wordless offer of help with a shake of his head. “Good-bye,” Sebastian said over his shoulder, his eyes finally flickering up to meet their gazes. Then he left, and he didn’t look back. Chapter Twenty

The flight back to Charlotte was hands down the worst Sebastian had ever been on. First there was the thunderstorm that made their descent into Houston something out of a low-budget action movie, complete with screaming, babies crying, one toddler laughing like he thought he was on a roller coaster, and one of the overhead

compartments popping open and spilling luggage everywhere. The same storm delayed his connecting flight’s departure, and he spent the unexpected layover sitting in an Irish pub in the airport, picking listlessly at mashed potatoes on his plate and sipping occasionally from the seven-dollar Irish cream coffee he couldn’t really afford that he’d ordered in a fit of depression. He hadn’t expected the depression. Leaving Adam and Keith had been like having something ripped from his stomach, straight through his abdomen, and then being left to bleed out slowly. Their last night together had been earth-shattering for its tenderness, but it had been nothing more than a farewell. He regretted not taking Adam up on his offer to drive him to the airport. It would’ve been a few more minutes, and maybe he would have been able to say something. At the time, he’d thought it would be better to get it over with quickly, like ripping off a bandage. What a horrible idea. Still, maybe it was for the better. Now he could get on with his life as if none of it had ever happened, as Adam had suggested. When the storm passed enough that his flight was finally called, he texted Jason that he was leaving and gave the

estimated arrival time, then hauled his carry-on over to the boarding gate. He forced himself to think about going home, about seeing his friends again, catching up with Jason. Then he remembered the shitstorm that was waiting for him and groaned. Fuck. He spent the last leg of his flight home staring out the window, Keith’s album on repeat in his headphones, and tried to forget about what he was leaving and what was waiting for him on the ground in Charlotte. But even though Jason had texted him to warn him that things still hadn’t settled down over the pictures of him with Adam and Keith, he was completely unprepared for Jason to drive up to the passenger-pickup lane in a car spraypainted with ugly slurs. It took a long moment of stunned staring to realize it was his car. “Wh—” He couldn’t even get a full word out, but Jason was hustling him into the car, throwing his luggage into the backseat, sliding into the driver’s seat, and pulling out of the airport. Sebastian didn’t know if he actually heard someone shouting the words that were painted on the vehicle, but they were ringing in his head as loudly as if he had. “How was your trip?” Jason asked inanely. “Well, after the

storm and the delay, of course.” “Jason, what the fuck happened to my car?” Jason flexed his grip on the steering wheel and took a deep breath. “We’re not exactly the neighborhood favorites right now. I was going to pick you up in my car and prepare you for this, but someone slashed my tires this morning, so…” Sebastian’s mind reeled. “When did this happen? What’s been going on?” Jason shrugged uncomfortably. “The spray-painting happened yesterday. I’ve been calling around to get an estimate of how much a paint job would cost, but it’s going to be expensive. Of course.” Of course it would. The slurs covered almost the entire car, including some of the windows. “So I did a search on the Internet for how to clean spray paint off a car. It’s… Well, I figure we can make a day of it.” He gave Sebastian a wry, apologetic smile. “Sorry, dude.” “It’s not…not your fault.” Sebastian took a deep breath. “Shit.” Jason let Sebastian soak it all up for a moment before he ventured, “But other than the flight home and the whole

tabloid leak, did you have a good time?” A week before, Sebastian couldn’t have imagined hearing Jason ask that question without a salacious undertone, but he was sincere and genuine, and Sebastian tried to corral his chaotic feelings long enough to give him an equally genuine answer. “I did. It was…” He felt his voice catch in his throat and paused, mortified. There was no way he was about to cry. “It was kind of amazing, actually. I…” He choked again and stopped. Jason slowed to a stop at a red light, and Sebastian could feel his gaze. “Well, shit,” Jason said softly, voice full of understanding and a hint of pity. “That’s going to be complicated.” And then, to Sebastian’s everlasting humiliation, tears pricked his eyes. He blinked furiously, keeping them back, and turned his face to stare out the window. Jason tactfully said nothing, and they drove the rest of the way home in silence. When they pulled into the parking space beside Jason’s car, Sebastian saw that either the vandals had come back for more or Jason had understated the damage. Not only were all four tires slashed, there were long scratch marks down both sides. Several dents looked suspiciously like

they’d been made by a baseball bat, and one of his back windows was spiderwebbed with cracks. Across the back of the trunk, they’d keyed FAGGOT and FUCK U. How original. Jason stood beside him as they took in the damage to both vehicles. Sebastian supposed he should be grateful his had escaped the keying and tire-slashing, even if it was dripping with SLUT and WHORE and BURN IN HELL U FUCKING QUEER. That last one took up most of the back windshield and the trunk. “Well, I guess we’re out to the neighbors,” Sebastian finally said, and Jason snorted. “You could say that.” There was nothing left to do but haul the luggage up the two flights of stairs to their apartment. Out of sight of the vandalized cars, he could almost forget about it all. Almost. He dropped the bags beside the bed and flopped onto the mattress face-first. Jason hovered for a minute, but when Sebastian didn’t move or say anything, he crept out of the room quietly and closed the door. Sebastian gave half a thought to texting Keith or Adam to let them know he’d made it home safe, but everything ached with exhaustion and devastation, and he was asleep before he could even reach for his phone.

****

Sebastian had very little to contribute to the police report Jason gave about the vandalism. He’d been in California at the time it had taken place, and he had absolutely no idea who the culprits might be. Once the officers were satisfied Sebastian had no information, he retreated to his room with his laptop and junk food. He could hear Jason in the living room, answering questions, though he didn’t know much more than Sebastian despite being here the whole time. He could offer guesses, the identities of people who had harassed him in other ways, but he hadn’t seen the vandals. For his part, Sebastian was considering changing phone numbers. After the tenth or so time he’d heard a text message come in only to open it and find something obscene or hateful from unfamiliar and sometimes blocked numbers, he turned the phone to silent. Even then he couldn’t make himself stop checking it to see if maybe Adam or Keith had sent him anything. He’d gotten one —Did you get in ok?—from Adam, had answered in the affirmative with another thanks, and hadn’t heard another peep out of them since. He did his best to lose himself in mindless entertainment, games and blogs and social media, and he dozed off a few times, but at the back of his mind the entire time was a tug

of pain. He couldn’t look directly at the emotion without being blinded by it, but it weighed down every thought and movement. A dozen times he picked up his phone with every intention of texting the men he’d left behind in California. Every time, he put it back down. They’d made it pretty clear they were cutting ties. He didn’t want to look desperate, didn’t want to be that guy who made a scene and turned into a stalker. Just because he found himself wanting to tell them about what had happened to the cars, what it was like to know he was going to have to go back to school in a few weeks and feel a hundred pairs of eyes on him all picturing him doing lewd things—some of which he had actually done—didn’t mean that they wanted to hear it. He still thought about doing it, though, and what would happen if he did. Adam would go all super-nurturer on him, trying everything to make him more comfortable. Keith would make a few idle threats about what he’d do to anyone who looked at Sebastian wrong, and then he’d take Sebastian’s mind off the situation one way or another. Or else they’d ignore his text and his phone call, and Sebastian would feel like an idiot. It was far safer to sit back and wait for them to make the first move. Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t check every few minutes to see if they’d made it yet.

He jumped at the knock on his door, and then Jason stuck his head in, looking haggard. “Hey. The officers are gone. They got pictures and said we could go ahead and clean up the car if we want to.” It had to be better than sitting in his room sulking, so Sebastian nodded and hauled himself out of bed, groaning at the stiffness in his limbs. Several cans of WD-40 and a selection of sponges and soft cloths were in the laundry room, and Sebastian could only guess that Jason had gotten them before he’d come to pick Sebastian up at the airport. Chances were, if Sebastian had returned a day later, his roommate probably would have cleaned the car already. A half hour into it, Sebastian knew he wasn’t going to get the reek of acetone out of his hands for weeks. The slurs were coming off, slowly but surely, but they left the ghosts of themselves behind. To a casual glance, it would look like an uneven paint job. Considering how Sebastian felt about his car, although it was neither new nor very expensive, that hurt enough. But if he stared at the streaks long enough, he could still make out the shape of the letters. Jason hadn’t said anything the entire time, and Sebastian was finally starting to notice the unnatural silence. It wasn’t like his outgoing roommate not to have a witty comment or two, and he peeked around the bumper to see Jason’s

expression. “Hey,” he said when Jason didn’t look up. “You okay?” Jason gave him a lopsided smile, a bare shadow of his normal rakish grin, and waved a little with his sponge. “Aside from being so high off these fumes I think I’d fail a drug test, peachy keen. You?” “Oh, you know. Could be better. Could be worse.” Sebastian tried for a casual shrug and hoped he made it. “Dreading classes.” Jason gave him a sympathetic wince. “I feel ya there. You’ll be lucky if they don’t list this in the graduation program.

Sebastian Gregory Keane, Journalism, Starfucker, cum laude.” “Magna cum laude, thank you very much,” Sebastian shot back. He concentrated on scrubbing off the bottom curve of the U in SLUT and frowned. “I still haven’t talked to my parents since I got home. I’m dreading that worse than classes.” “Hmm.” Silence reigned for long moments until Jason ventured casually, “Have you talked to…them? Adam and Keith?” Sebastian shook his head. “Adam texted to see if I’d gotten in okay. I told him I had. That’s been the end of it.”

“Are you going to tell them? About…you know.” Jason looked apologetic as he stumbled over the awkward question. “About the fact that I’m mooning over them like a teenage girl with posters on her wall, writing Mr. and Mrs. Cruce and Black in my notebooks? No. It’s probably better if I try to forget about it and move on.” Jason rocked back on his heels and stretched his arms. “How would that work, anyhow? Whose name would you take if you married both of them? Would you hyphenate?” Sebastian would have thrown something if he’d had anything close at hand more effective than WD-40 cans and sponges. “Did you miss the move on part there?” Jason turned puppy-dog eyes on him, and he sighed and gave in. “Aside from the fact that not even two of us can get married right now, much less all three?” “Aside from that.” Sebastian laughed. “We’d probably keep our own names, I’m guessing. Hyphenating all three could get a little confusing.” “Or you could measure dicks. Whoever’s got the biggest, that’s whose name you’d use.”

“Adam,” Sebastian said before he could think better of it. As soon as he realized what he’d revealed, he felt heat creeping all the way up his cheeks. “Very nice,” Jason said slyly. “So if you decided based on sexual skill, who would—” “Your mom,” Sebastian snapped. “Now shut up and get back to work.” But he felt better, and out of the corner of his eye, he could tell Jason seemed pretty satisfied with himself. Chapter Twenty-one

Keith could hear his own breathing, harsh with an edge like white frost, burning through his lungs and throat like ice. Everyone else seemed to be holding their breath, unwilling to so much as blink in case it set him off and he broke something more expensive—or more irreplaceable—than his cell phone. He hadn’t meant to break the phone. Hadn’t even realized he was throwing it until long after it shattered against the wall, little plastic pieces scattering everywhere the way he wanted to imagine the text from his manager exploding. Everyone had shut up immediately, all eyes on him, and now he stood in the middle of the recording room, trembling

hands clenched into fists at his side. He could tell without looking that they were all afraid of him, and he felt a rush of satisfaction and resentment. At least they were leaving him alone, but goddamn it, he was not some ogre who would cook them in a stew for breathing wrong. Of course, with the way he’d been acting lately, he couldn’t really blame them. He heard the trill of a cell-phone speed dial, and then Manny’s quiet, calm voice. “Adam? You might want to come to the studio if you can get away from the set.” A pause, and he could barely make out Adam’s muffled voice. “No, everyone’s fine. So far, at least, but call me if you need to get in touch. Keith’s phone is broken.” More Adam, and even though he couldn’t hear the words, Keith could tell his lover was agitated. “Yeah, sure. Get here when you can. See ya.” The beep of Manny’s phone turning off and then a string of words Keith barely heard enough to know he was dismissing the other band members who were there for early songwriting and jam sessions for the new album. Keith never took his eyes off his own shattered phone lying on the floor, and he couldn’t help thinking what an obvious, clumsy metaphor it was for the rest of his life. It was just a stupid text message. Sure it was intrusive and

offensive and none of Grissom’s goddamn business, but taking it out on his phone was ridiculous. Just because the media was playing dog-with-a-bone over his and Adam’s sex life to a degree they never had before, just because he missed Baz and was impatient to talk to Adam about rearranging their relationship to make him a permanent fixture in it, was no reason to let it erupt in the middle of his professional environment. He knew that, but he also knew all those things had stacked on top of each other until it felt like they were pushing at his skin, trying to burst out. He kept waiting for Manny to say something, to berate him, to tell him what an asshole he was being and how much he was endangering his career. He’d braced himself for it, every muscle tense, ears already ringing with the imagined dressing-down. Go the fuck to therapy, Black, or risk

losing your band, your recording contract, and everything else you have. But Manny stayed quiet behind the drum kit, little rustling noises telling Keith that he wasn’t as tense as the other band members had been. Eventually everything unwound enough that he sneaked a glance over to see that Manny was fiddling with his phone—from the motions, most likely playing a game. Keith took a deep breath, straightened, and turned to face him. He braced himself for a sarcastic Feeling better? or a patronizing How are you doing? but he should have known better. Manny had been with him a long, long time.

“Hey.” Keith cleared his throat. “Hey. Uh, sorry.” Manny turned off his phone and slid it into his pocket, then rested his hands loosely on his thighs. Keith recognized the body language—open, nonthreatening, Hey, buddy, I’m on

your side. “I don’t know wh-wh—” His throat closed tight around the words, and he had to stop and swallow. “Sorry,” he said again. “Adam said he’d come over as soon as he can, but he doesn’t know when that’ll be.” Manny’s casual tone helped take some of the sting out of the words, but Keith still felt a hot, dark red spike of anger at the way everyone treated Adam like his babysitter. Like he was a goddamned child who needed his nanny to rein in his temper tantrums. He felt like storming out of the studio, but he knew that Manny would dog his heels, calm and loose-limbed and probably whistling the melody they’d been trying to get down before Keith had snapped. His skin still crawled with the need for movement, though, so he took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “I’m going for a walk.”

Manny nodded and stood, clearly intending to go along, as Keith had known he would. Keith knew better than to protest, but it didn’t stop him from lengthening his stride toward the back door and not waiting for Manny to catch up, aware that he was acting as childishly as he was being treated. Once out in the chilly sunlight behind the studio, he slowed his steps as a tacit apology. Manny fell into step beside him, and they walked quietly together until the black, thorny feeling eased enough that his skin no longer felt prickly and tender. He could still feel a swirl of dark emotions waiting to spring up and torment him, but at least they weren’t on the surface for now, and he could act like a decent human being. “Thanks,” he whispered, and Manny nodded. “I’ll call the band and apologize as soon as I get a new phone.” Manny grinned. “At least all our guys know what an ass you are, and we don’t have to go groveling to studio musicians. Silver lining.” Keith flipped him off, and Manny laughed. It was a good sound. ****

Adam wasn’t laughing that evening when they met at home, takeout containers scattered across the kitchen counters. Keith poked at his food with a pair of cheap bamboo chopsticks, sliding noodles and vegetables across his plate. It was one of his favorite dishes, and he suspected Adam had chosen it deliberately because of that, but he just couldn’t find his appetite. He felt Adam’s gaze on him and popped a shrimp into his mouth to avoid suspicion. It didn’t work. “It’s been three weeks,” Adam said softly, and Keith tensed. Three weeks since Baz had gone home, he meant, and since Keith had tumbled headlong into this dark, sticky morass of feelings. They still hadn’t been able to talk about what they wanted, because Keith couldn’t manage to get his feelings to shut up long enough to get to his thoughts. “Have you thought any more about what we talked about? With the therapist?” “Grissom texted me today,” Keith said instead of answering, twirling lo mein around his chopsticks. Adam sighed from across the table, disappointed and resigned that Keith still wasn’t ready to talk about anything of substance, and Keith kept going. “Asked me if he was going to have to field any more questions about ‘that twink slut.’”

The clatter of Adam’s fork dropping to his plate startled him, and he looked up to see Adam looking pale with anger. For a moment, Keith wondered if his lover was going to explode, but instead Adam picked up his fork and gripped it so tightly his knuckles went white. His hand was shaking. “Is that why you broke your phone?” “Yeah.” That and the rest of Grissom’s texts, full of snide moral superiority and telling Keith he knew about the temper tantrums, knew the studio was having trouble with him. Keep your ass out of rehab and out of therapy. I don’t

need you picking up any more bad press. “Maybe we should find you a new manager, babe.” That was an appealing idea. Unfortunately Keith had a reputation as being difficult to work with, and—“He’s got nine months left on his employment contract.” Adam gave him a pointed look over a forkful of fried rice. “You could pay him out. We can afford it, and it would be worth it.” The thought of shopping for a new manager turned Keith’s stomach into knots. Résumés, interviews, the exhaustion of trying to read through the bullshit to find someone who was a good match. Someone who didn’t think he was morally

degenerate. Someone who understood his problems instead of using them against him. Someone who wasn’t worse than Grissom. “No.” When Adam frowned, Keith shook his head again. “Just…no. I can’t right now.” Keith knew it cost Adam a lot to let that go, but he did, and Keith felt a bright surge of gratitude even in the middle of his darker colors. Then he realized it was only because Adam had bigger fish to fry. “About Sebastian…” Adam paused to take a deep breath, and Keith held his. “Are we—Do we—Do you still want to talk about asking him to be permanent?” The words came out all in a rush, and Keith couldn’t tell if it was because Adam did want it…or because he didn’t. “Maybe.” He knew he was hedging, but something about Adam’s nervousness was infecting him, sending a spiderweb of bright green doubt all the way through his nerves. He could feel it snaking up his arms like a physical ache. He was already on thin ice with Adam, pushing his luck, pushing his lover’s patience. The idea of pushing him away was terrifying. “Do you?” Adam couldn’t hold his gaze anymore, eyes flicking down to his plate, and Keith squirmed. What did that bit of body

language mean? “I…” Adam cleared his throat, and unfamiliar tension radiated from him. Keith had never seen him like this. “I think so. But maybe not now. Not yet.” His fork made a horrible screech when he scraped it across the plate, and he winced. “Maybe after he’s had some time. After we’ve all had some time.” There was a lie in there, but Keith couldn’t tell where. All he knew was that he could read Adam’s body, read the tic in his jaw and the tremble in his hand. The tension was too much to handle. He could feel Adam’s uneasiness under his skin, almost as raw as his own, and he needed out for a minute. Needed to be able to breathe. He stood abruptly, taking his plate with him, and Adam’s head snapped up. “Where are you going?” “To put away the leftovers.” Adam glanced at his plate. “But you’ve barely eaten anything.” “Not hungry.” Keith went into the kitchen before Adam could say anything else. More than anything right now, he did not need to be answering questions. Not about something as vital as what place Baz had in their lives. Not even about something as inane as why he didn’t want the rest of his

shrimp and vegetable lo mein. What he needed…was to get away. Chapter Twenty-two

Distraction was the name of the game, and Adam was losing by a mile. Or winning, however one wanted to look at it. They’d had to retake the scene five times because he couldn’t get a simple line right. He kept missing his cue, forgetting the words. “Cut!” The director rubbed his temples and sighed. “Take five, everybody. Cruce, get fresh and get your head back in the game.” Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one feeling his phone buzz in his pocket every two or three minutes. With Keith bottoming out and no relief in sight, Adam wasn’t taking any chances. He couldn’t always get to the phone immediately, but he wanted to know if Keith or Manny or—God forbid— Grissom was trying to get in touch with him. He ducked around the corner of the stage and through the door to the hallway, pulling out his phone as he went. Six new text messages, all from a blocked number, with increasingly lurid suggestions. He stared at the fifth and sixth ones for a long time, wondering if he’d misjudged the

anonymous sex messages he’d been getting all along.

I’ll make u leave ur crazy boyfriend. I know u want me. Even when ur distracted u make me hard. R u thinking about me? It wasn’t anything particularly identifying, but… Adam felt the corner of his eye twitch and reached up with one finger to smooth the tired muscle. Between the “crazy boyfriend” line and the reference to him being distracted sent eight minutes ago… Was it someone on set? Someone in the cast or the crew? He glanced over his shoulder as if the culprit would suddenly leap out at him, but of course there was no one there. Just the empty hallway. He cursed under his breath and pulled up a text message, intending to check up on Keith. As he started to key it in, though, he remembered that Keith didn’t have his new phone yet. He would be getting it that afternoon, and Adam didn’t want the first person who saw the message to be the tech who set it up for him. Even then, he didn’t close the message. He hovered, finger barely touching the screen, and thought about Sebastian. He still didn’t think it was fair to upset Sebastian’s life again without knowing what they would be asking for. And was it fair to ask him to be part of their relationship without

making sure he understood what he might be getting into with Keith? Adam sighed and closed the message.

I don’t regret loving him or being in a relationship with him, but fuck, it has made my life harder. Maybe I should do the research on the therapists for him so he can have the information. He brought up the browser on his phone and keyed in “bipolar psychotherapist” to see what would come up. He wouldn’t have time to do any in-depth research, nothing that would be informative enough to give Keith, but it might give him an idea of where to start. The sound of a door closing down the hall snapped Adam to attention, and he looked up to see Cameron Bryce walking toward him. He sighed and straightened his spine, squaring his shoulders. “Sorry. Break’s over, right? I’ll be right there.” He looked back down at his phone, hoping it would give Cameron the cue to back off. He didn’t want to talk to the man. He still had no proof Cameron was the one who had sent the paparazzi after him, but the suspicion was strong enough to make it harder than usual to be civil. He also didn’t want to give him more fodder to use against Keith, since Cameron had already proven himself willing to do so. Cameron hadn’t answered him, and the lack of response

made him glance up again, but he wasn’t prepared for how near Cameron was, invading his personal space, face tilted intimately close. He slid his hand onto Adam’s hip, and Adam tried to pull away, but the wall at his back stopped him. “Cameron, wha—” Cameron ducked in, and Adam turned his face as he pushed, barely feeling Cameron’s lips against his cheek before the other man stumbled backward, off-balance. It was just enough room for Adam to slide away from the wall. He frowned and pocketed his phone, then put his hands up between them as Cameron reached for him, snagging his sleeve. “Stop fighting it,” Cameron growled, and Adam wrenched away, heart pounding up into his throat. “We’ve been dancing around this for months.” “Dancing around what? Knocking each other’s teeth out?” Adam kept backing away, but Cameron kept advancing. He was going to run out of hallway eventually. Cameron laughed, low and lustily, sending chills up Adam’s spine—and not the good kind. “Well, sure, if you like it rough. We could try for that.” He moved like lightning, so fast Adam couldn’t dodge him, and he pushed Adam back against the wall, pinning him

there. Adam pushed back, but Cameron was prepared and didn’t budge. “Cameron, look, dude. I’m not interested in you. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression at any point, but I thought we were on the same page with the whole barely-tolerating-eachother thing.” “We are. I hate you. I can’t stand you. But goddamn, I want to fuck you.” Cameron leaned closer, his breath gusting over Adam’s throat, and Adam stiffened, trying to decide how to get Cameron off him without hurting the other man. Injuring his coworker wouldn’t put him on anybody’s favorites list. “I can’t believe you don’t want to fuck me too. I’ve seen the way you look at me. The way you check your phone for my texts. I know you want this as bad as I do.” “The hell?” Adam shoved without thinking, and this time, he caught Cameron off guard and managed to put a little distance between them before Cameron could regain his footing. “You sent those texts? You sick motherfucker. What is wrong with you?” “Come on, you can’t expect me to believe you love that piece of shit you’re with. He cheats on you and doesn’t even bother to hide it! He even brings his little sluts into your house! You think I believe that bullshit that you’re okay with it?” He pressed in again, but Adam pushed back harder, keeping the space between them. “Don’t you want

to get back at him? Come on. We could go fuck. You could call him, make him listen like he does to you. Make him hear some other man making you come.” “What the fuck is—” Adam stopped, stunned, as he remembered the conversation he’d had on the phone with Keith that day Cameron had taunted him with Keith’s erratic behavior on tour and then told the tabloids they were on the outs. Had he said anything about listening in to Keith and some random guy? Probably. It was a common enough occurrence. “Listen, you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. What’s between me and Keith is our business, not yours. And I don’t have any interest in sleeping with you—not for revenge, not for some twisted kind of punishment, and sure as hell not for my own pleasure.” Cameron lunged, and this time Adam didn’t care if he hurt the man or not; he was putting a stop to this. Cameron was a little broader, more muscle on him, but Adam had a good five inches on him and used it to his advantage, tackling the other man to the floor. It felt like a high-school scuffle, kicking and pushing, never getting in a good punch. Neither of them could pin the other to the floor; neither gained a clear advantage. When hands closed around his upper arms and hauled him back, he was startled to find there were other people in the hallway—

the crew from the show, pulling them apart, holding them both back. “What is going on here?” Rand Marshall demanded, looking between them. It was never a good thing when the director started treating you like first graders. “Fuck, you’re a mess. Fuck! We might as well call it quits and take the rest of the goddamn day off! Look at yourselves! What the hell has gotten into you?” Adam felt something wet on his upper lip and swiped at it, only a little surprise when his hand came away sticky with blood. “He”—he pointed to Cameron—“has been sending me obscene text messages and just assaulted me.” He felt the key grip behind him ease away slightly and watched the eyes of the crew members around him widen in disbelief. Resentment bubbled hot as he imagined they were all thinking about the gossip about him, his “promiscuous” boyfriend, and their third. He knew they were all thinking What did you expect? Or perhaps they were thinking that he had propositioned Cameron instead. Adam dug his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Rand. “Here. The texts are all from a blocked number. The ones on there are all from today. He’s been sending them to me for months, but I didn’t know it was him, and I deleted them all.”

Rand gave Adam a skeptical look, then turned the same expression on Cameron before he read the texts. “He admitted to sending these?” Rand didn’t sound convinced, and Cameron sneered. “Yes. And I’m sure any of the security cameras in the hall will show he approached and assaulted me, not the other way around.” Rand gave Cameron a hard look, and Cameron averted his eyes. “Goddamn actors,” Rand groused. “You’re all fucked in the head. We’ll look at the tapes, and Bryce, if Cruce is telling the truth, you’re out. Your contract is up, and you’d better get your head on straight if you’re ever going to work in this town again. Harassing coworkers is a great way to end up waiting tables for the rest of your life.” Rand gave Adam’s phone back to him and dismissed everyone with a wave. “Sarah, call Ormond and Davis, tell them we need them on set. We’re going to move their scenes up to today so at least we won’t lose a whole goddamn day of filming.” Adam took the phone with an unsteady hand and glanced across at Cameron. The other man wasn’t looking at him, and Adam couldn’t decide if he was glad about that or not.

****

The video, of course, confirmed Adam’s version of the story, and it was enough to get Cameron fired and his character written out of the script. In an ironic twist, the tabloids ran the headline almost as soon as it happened. Adam didn’t know who had called it in, but it wasn’t him. Of course it got trumped up as much more than it was, but what concerned him most were the pop psychologist diagnoses that got tossed around. Keith gave him a long, wordless look the first time one of them mentioned “mental instability” and the possibility that it would have a permanent, negative impact on Cameron’s career. Adam sighed and admitted defeat, at least for the moment. Keith still wasn’t eating. He picked at meals that consisted of his favorite dishes. Adam got the feeling he wasn’t even doing that much when he was alone. He smelled like cigarette smoke—the stale menthols that Adam knew he kept in the back of a kitchen drawer—but as much as Adam worried, he never smelled of alcohol. Adam still hesitated over contacting Sebastian. The whole discussion of where they wanted that relationship to go seemed to be shelved. Keith was barely holding his own,

and Adam had lost what little ground he’d gained in the argument about involving a psychiatrist. Keith tried to hide it, but Adam got the feeling that Grissom was putting pressure on him to stay out of the limelight, to minimize the effect of his depression on his career and the band. It was two against one. Adam might have been Keith’s lover, but he wasn’t his manager. Keith’s black mood crept into their bedroom and slept between them like a living thing. No matter how close Adam held him, there was a gulf his touch couldn’t cross. For all that his sexual appetites were insatiable in the high moods, Keith now had no interest in anything more than chaste kisses and sleeping in the same bed, and sometimes Adam got the distinct impression he was only tolerating that. On a day off from filming while Keith was at the studio, Adam lugged his laptop into the kitchen and set it up on the table with a notepad and pen to the side. He searched for counselors and pharmapsychotherapists, did research on the medications recommended for bipolar and their side effects. He looked for support groups, for any kind of advice on how to keep Keith’s treatments quiet. If he was prepared, if he had evidence, a plan, maybe it would be easier to convince Keith that Grissom’s scare tactics about therapy were just that, that Cameron’s situation didn’t have to be his.

He was so involved in scribbling down his notes he didn’t hear the front door open or Keith come in. The first clue he had was the soft kiss dropped on the back of his neck that startled him so sharply his palms ached with the sudden burst of adrenaline. “H-hey, babe.” He closed the laptop as casually as possible and turned in the chair, hoping to catch Keith’s full attention before he could decipher the chicken scratch on the notepad. Keith pulled the chair away from the table enough that he could climb into Adam’s lap, and Adam held him tight, breathing a sigh of relief. Adam was taller by a few inches, but like this, Keith was at exactly the right height to rest his chin on Adam’s head, and they stayed like that for long moments, Adam listening to Keith’s heartbeat and steady breathing. “You okay?” he finally asked, and Keith took a long, shuddering breath. “Yeah. No. I don’t know. It’s bad this time.” He straightened up, rolling his head to work out the tension in his neck, and Adam ran a soothing hand up his back. “I don’t know if—” He froze, and Adam peered up at his face. “Babe?” “What…” Keith squirmed in Adam’s arms enough that he could pick up the notepad, and ice crashed into Adam’s

stomach. “What is this?” “I was doing a little research.” For a character was on the tip of his tongue, but lying to Keith seemed like a bad idea. Of course, telling him the truth could be much worse at this stage. “What is—lithium?” “Ah, crossed through, if you’ll notice. I was going to tell you, just—” “Antipsychotics? What is this… ‘No antidepressants,’ what does that mean? ‘Pharmapsychotherapist, specializes in bipolar’?” Keith was shaking. “It’s just research.” Keith fixed him with a sharp look, and Adam felt his mouth go dry. “Research. Into bipolar medications and treatments.” The notepad curled in his grip, pages crinkling. “I am not my father!” “No, sweetie, I didn’t—no. It’s not—it’s just—” “Damn you, we talked about this! I can’t do this, Adam. I can’t—go to your happy little therapist and take happy little drugs and be a happy little model b-bipolar patient. They’ll kill me. They’ll chew me up and spit me out. Fuck, you saw what they did when I went to rehab. You see what

Grissom’s doing now after Baz—shit. Fuck this shit.” He stood, nearly taking Adam with him, and slammed the notepad down on the table. “I can’t.” “Keith—wait—hang on! Where are you—where are you going?” Keith was almost out the door before Adam found his feet, but longer legs were good for some things. He caught Keith right outside on the steps, fingertips barely catching in his sleeve and pulling him around. Keith stopped, but his glare was ice-cold, and when Adam couldn’t help a reflexive glance to see if there were any lingering photographers from their last tangle with the paparazzi, Keith pulled away again. “Don’t—don’t drive,” Adam pleaded, stepping out into the yard, heedless of bare feet and cold, dead grass. “I’ll be fine.” Keith stopped with the car door open but didn’t face him. “I have my phone. I’ll be careful.” It was as much of a concession as Adam was likely to get, and he held back the rest of the protests he wanted to blurt out. If Keith had his mood mostly under control, the last thing Adam needed to do was ruin that.

“Okay,” he said instead, and his voice sounded like a stranger’s, low and tight with pain. He stood in the grass long after Keith had pulled out of the driveway, his toes going numb in the January evening. Chapter Twenty-three

When the first day of classes arrived several weeks later and Sebastian still hadn’t heard anything from California, the distraction of starting the semester was almost a relief. At least now he had something to interrupt long days of trying to pretend he didn’t care that he hadn’t heard a peep out of Keith or Adam and subsequently arguing with himself over whether he dared try to send them a message. It didn’t take him long to feel like he’d gone from the frying pan to the fire, though. He tried to tell himself it was only his imagination that everyone seemed to stare at him a little too long, just paranoia that his mass-comm professor hesitated over his name on the first day’s roll call. But he knew he wasn’t imagining the lingering echo of graffiti on his car, and it took all the courage he had buried deep down inside to drive the damn thing to school and park it in the commuters’ parking lot. If there had been a bus available, he might not have driven at all.

All of his classes for the first day were morning courses, the myth of senior privilege gone right out the eastern-facing window in his eight a.m. humanities course. The good part of an early start was an early end, though, and Sebastian walked out of his last class a few minutes after noon, squinting against the pale light of the January sun. Back in the familiar halls of his university, where he’d spent a vast portion of the last four and a half years of his life, he could almost pretend that everything with Keith and Adam had happened to someone else. He noticed good-looking guys in his classes, old friends, and an ex-boyfriend he passed in the halls and wondered if maybe one of them might like to go out for coffee some time. The lingering ache in his chest was just an anomaly, and— The loud trill of his phone ringing stopped him, and he froze as he recognized the ringtone. He hadn’t expected to ever hear it again. Sebastian stared at the readout on his caller ID. He took a deep breath and answered. “Hello?” “Sebastian! I—Oh God, I’m sorry. How are you? Is everything—Jesus, I haven’t even…” Sebastian blinked. For all the time he’d spent with Keith and Adam, he’d never heard either of them less than

articulate outside the bedroom. And if he’d had to guess one of them was going to call him in a tizzy, he wouldn’t have guessed Adam. “I’m fine, but what’s wrong? You don’t sound so good.” Telling him about the slurs, the graffiti, and the stares of his classmates could wait. “Is it Keith?” Adam barked out a dry, humorless laugh that turned into static in the speaker. “Yeah. Listen, I’m sorry we haven’t been in touch. It’s been…” “No, that’s fine. What’s wrong? What happened?” “I probably shouldn’t have called you. There isn’t anything you can do. I just—Keith’s having a hard time. He’s not… I missed you. We miss you.” Sebastian could feel the tips of his fingers going tingly and tried to remember to breathe. This was a dream and a nightmare all at once. He missed both of them more than he’d ever expected, but this frantic, incoherent burst of sentiment was terrifying. He wanted to believe it was genuine, that Adam would have missed him even if Keith hadn’t been in the middle of…whatever it was that Adam wasn’t saying. But two weeks of silence made that seem unlikely. “I’ve missed you too,” he said cautiously, and he could hear Adam sigh right into his ear, two thousand miles away.

“I’m sorry. This isn’t how I meant to call you. I’ve nearly called or texted you a hundred times, but we were waiting until we had a more solid idea of… It just didn’t seem fair to you. I…” Adam took a deep breath, and it sounded shaky on the exhale. “I’m worried about Keith. And I needed to talk to someone. And you were the only person I could think of that I wanted to talk to. The only one who would… understand.” Sebastian doubted he was the only person Adam knew who would understand what was going on with Keith. In fact, Sebastian didn’t have a clue. But the words warmed him nonetheless. “What’s wrong with Keith? Why are you worried?” “It’s a long story, kitten,” he said, and the sound of Keith’s nickname for him in Adam’s voice made his heartbeat stutter. “Have you got a minute?” “I’ve got at least a hundred. Let me go sit down.” This time there was relief in Adam’s tone as he said quietly, “Thank you.” ****

When Adam finally hung up over an hour later, Sebastian’s

ear was sore from pressing his phone against it, and his mind was spinning. It all made sense, in odd ways, but it was a lot to take in. Adam and Keith didn’t want him out of their lives; exactly the opposite. It had taken a bit to coax all the details out of Adam, to uncover his desires behind the veil of his sense of responsibility, but they both wanted him. Long-term. As a partner. He felt light-headed thinking about it. “We wanted to give you time away from us, to make sure it

was what you wanted, to make sure we weren’t pressuring you into anything. I probably shouldn’t be telling you now, but it’s just… We miss you.” That wasn’t the only surprise bomb Adam had dropped, though. He’d been reluctant to share the details—”It’s Keith’s story, not mine”—but some of Keith’s erratic behavior he’d only ever heard about, and some of it he’d experienced firsthand, was due to a psychological condition. Adam said he’d been given a preliminary diagnosis by his substance-abuse counselor in rehab, and although Adam wouldn’t tell him what the diagnosis was, Sebastian could make a few rough guesses. “I want you to know that before you make any decisions.

He isn’t likely to seek treatment anytime soon—he’s adamant that it would ruin his career, and maybe he’s right—so that’s a risk you need to know about.”

It was a big risk. A scary one. But for all that he’d thought he could move on to someone else an hour ago, he knew better now. Just the sound of Adam’s voice had made Sebastian ache for both him and Keith, their smiles, their touches, the smell of their skin as they curled against him, boneless and sweaty, their breath as they panted his name through heated kisses. More than that, he missed them, the simple feeling of being near them. It was worth a million slurs painted on his car. Worth curious stares and ruined internships and family rejections. Worth the effort of figuring out how the course of his life would need to change, whether to look into grad school in Southern California. And, he thought with a giddy flutter in his diaphragm, it seemed they felt the same. At the very least, Adam had sounded so much lighter by the time they’d hung up, his voice tender and fond as he’d said, “Bye, sweetheart. If all goes well, we’ll see you soon.” And didn’t that just make his heart beat doubletime: Keith Black and Adam Cruce were coming back to Charlotte. For him. Chapter Twenty-four

The plane tickets were a bribe. Keith understood that. They were a bribe for good behavior, a last-ditch effort at keeping him from sailing off a cliff of dark moods into a darker abyss. They were a peace offering for a betrayal of trust and an apology for Adam not knowing what to do. They were weighted down with so many meanings that Keith imagined they might as well have been carved from stone. They certainly felt cool and gray in his hands, heavy and sharp-edged. But when he handed them to the concierge at the first-class check-in, they were only paper after all, and the knight in shining armor standing at his back was just a man, fragile and vulnerable and helpless against the muddle and chaos living in Keith’s brain. Adam kept his hand pressed against the small of Keith’s back as they moved through the security line and toward the gate, and when they eventually settled side by side in the cabin, his touch hovered uncertainly above Keith’s knee for a moment. And despite the way he felt like living strings of color were tangling and fighting for the right to rule him, Keith turned his hand palm up on the armrest between them in a peace offering of his own. It was worth it for the way Adam relaxed at his side as their fingers entwined, even if Keith could feel his skin prickling and crawling with too much feeling, too

much sensation. When the flight attendant offered them drinks, he let Adam order for both of them so that he wouldn’t ask for whiskey. It wasn’t the way Keith expected to move this part of things forward. In fact, he hadn’t really thought about how it would happen at all. They’d sort of skipped that point, and in some respects, Keith felt even more like a child than he had the day Manny had called Adam to come get him at the studio. Now he felt like a toddler who’d been handed a toy to appease his temper tantrum, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. He knew that wasn’t fair to Adam or Baz. Adam had told him about the conversation, about how happy Baz had been, about how much he’d missed them. Adam was excited, and that was enough to make Keith swallow all his misgivings and bitter feelings. He worried sometimes that Adam was doing things just to make him happy—ordering Keith’s favorite dinners from takeout, picking out his favorite movies on pay-per-view, sleeping with other people. He turned his head and stared out the window at the tarmac gliding by as the plane picked up speed, and as the wheels left the ground, he let his thoughts slide into an idea that sent splinters of ice through him.

At least they’ll have each other.

Adam’s fingers tightened briefly around his, and Keith turned enough to see his face. There was a question there, an unspoken How are you doing? and Keith forced a smile in answer. And then, because Adam didn’t seem convinced by the gesture, he shifted so that their shoulders were pressed together. “Thank you,” he said quietly, rubbing his thumb over the back of Adam’s hand. Adam lifted their hands together and kissed Keith’s fingertips, holding his gaze. “You sure you’re okay?” The knowledge of everything not okay twisted inside him, pressing at him, but he nodded. Adam arched an eyebrow, and to divert him before he could start prying open things better left sealed in Keith’s brain, Keith blurted out something he’d been thinking about. “So if it turns out that this conversation goes the way we all hope it will, and we start being the three of us instead of you and me plus Baz, how is that going to change…things?” Adam tilted his head. “What things?” “I mean…” Keith paused and took a deep breath while he tried to get his words together. For once, he preferred not to shock everyone around him. This was too private to be a spectacle, and he was too raw to make it a show. “Will it be

just the three of us?” “Oh.” The look on Adam’s face said he hadn’t thought about it. “I guess we’ll bring that up for discussion and see how everybody feels.” Keith nodded. “I wouldn’t want to hold Baz back, you know? I mean. He’s young.” Uncertainty flickered across Adam’s face as clearly as if it had been written there, and Keith pressed on. “But…I don’t know. I just haven’t been interested in anybody else since him.” “Mm.” Something shuttered in Adam’s expression then, and as easily as he’d read him a moment ago, Keith couldn’t tell what he was thinking now for anything. Keith felt the shift in the tension of his grip, and then Adam let go of him to take a sip of his drink. When he set down the cup, he didn’t take Keith’s hand again, and Keith sank down in his seat, feeling the air between his fingers as if Adam had carved out wider spaces there and left them empty. Keith tried to let it go, but it pushed at him until he couldn’t stand it, everything inside him pushing back until he blurted, “But I mean…if you want to keep sleeping with other people, that’s fine. That’s you. We can still… It doesn’t have to change. Unless Baz wants it to, I guess, and then…” “No, it’s fine.”

Keith kept waiting for some elaboration—What’s fine?— but Adam seemed to have dropped the subject. Keith tried one more time to follow his lead, but the buzzing under his skin wouldn’t let him relax. He stared at Adam’s hand, wishing he had the courage to take it again, lace their fingers back together so his wouldn’t feel so empty. What’s the big deal? He should be able to do this. They’d been together for years. Adam had never refused him anything. Except that one night when everything had just gone black. “You know…” Keith trailed off and cleared his throat, watching his fingers flex toward Adam’s before he clenched his hand into a fist. Adam gave him a half glance and an inquisitive arch of his eyebrow. He swallowed. You know I couldn’t do this without you. It was on the tip of his tongue, but it sounded so needy, so demanding. “I don’t know if I ever told you thank you for these plane tickets.” Adam cracked a smile then, a real one, wry and tender around the edges, and some of the anxious threads cutting into Keith’s heart relaxed. “You can thank me properly when we get there.” He leaned over and brushed a soft, lingering kiss across Keith’s cheek, then another closer to his ear. Keith shivered, and Adam chuckled, his breath stirring

Keith’s hair before he settled back into his own seat. Adam refocused on his magazine, and Keith took a deep breath, wishing the rest of the tightness in his chest would ease. Tired of fighting it, he leaned against the window and closed his eyes. Just as he started to drift off, he felt Adam’s fingers curl around his, and he smiled. ****

The hotel room felt like almost as much of a prison as his skin did. No matter how much he paced, he was still trapped in both. He could leave the hotel room, of course, but Baz and Adam were both on their way, and Keith didn’t want to miss either of them. Their visit to the East Coast coincided with an interview Adam was supposed to do. He’d been gone since midmorning and should have been wrapping up any minute. Baz’s last class of the day had ended about ten minutes before, so it was anybody’s guess who would get there first or if they’d arrive at the same time. He and Adam had agreed that it would be best to lead into things slowly, but the relationship discussion was on everybody’s mind, and Keith knew they might, at best, get a few minutes of small talk in before jumping straight into it. Which was fine. He wanted to know if this would work and

how. He worried that they would want sex. Happy, giddy reunion sex. Heady new relationship sex. And part of him wanted that too, but he knew how his body had been for the last few weeks. Nothing Adam did stirred him. Touches and whispers went ignored by his libido. Kisses laid sweetly against his mouth stayed only lukewarm. It wasn’t unusual; the blue moods sometimes drained him of his responses. But here they were, trying to convince Baz to stay with them, and all he had to offer was a fucked-up head and a body to match. Footsteps in the hall had him pausing midpace, and he stared hard at the door as if he could see who was on the other side. Then there was a knock, and unless Adam had lost his key, that was Baz. Keith’s heart double-thumped and his hands shook as he opened the door. Baz looked tired but happy, dark circles under bright eyes, and Keith reached for him. Things that hadn’t felt right since Baz had left clicked into place again, and the warm feeling Keith got when he thought about Adam joining them soon convinced him they were definitely right to be making this long-term. The three of them together was like a magic formula. “I missed you,” Keith murmured into Baz’s hair, and Baz heaved a giant sigh against him.

“I missed you too.” Baz lifted his face and brushed a kiss over Keith’s jaw. Warmth trickled through him from the contact, and he pressed an answering kiss to Baz’s cheek, right under his eye. “Where’s Adam?” After another kiss to Baz’s nose, Keith murmured, “He’s on his way. Or should be.” Baz slid his arms around Keith’s waist, melting into him. “Think he’d mind if we don’t wait for him?” Arousal sparked in his blood for the first time in a month, making him dizzy with the rush. He slid his hand down to the curve of Baz’s ass, kneading and lifting, and Baz groaned, openmouthed. Keith couldn’t help kissing him deep and hard, hands clutching without grace or finesse. When Baz ground his hips into Keith’s, he broke the kiss, gasping for air. “On the bed?” Baz panted, sounding hopeful, and Keith backed him toward the mattress. He pushed Baz down on top of the blanket and crawled over him, peppering his face and neck with kisses. He could feel his dick getting hard, twinges of pain and pleasure and relief running through him. He shoved his hand under Baz’s shirt, shuddering at the slide of skin, and Baz took the hint, sitting up enough to get the shirt over his head. He didn’t stop there, reaching for the button on his jeans, and Keith sat back and watched,

one hand flexing on Baz’s stomach as Baz wriggled out of the pants. He was wearing fitted black underwear that framed and lifted his dick and balls, and Keith felt raw hunger flood him. He bent down and mouthed Baz’s cock through the fabric before pulling the underwear off and sliding them down to Baz’s knees. He felt Baz squirming underneath him as he kicked them the rest of the way off, and then Keith swallowed him down, one hand caressing and rolling his testicles, the other stroking the base of his cock. He hummed around the flesh in his mouth, and Baz bucked helplessly. “Fuck me,” Baz whimpered. “I’m already—I’m ready. Fuck me.” Without taking his mouth off Baz’s dick, Keith slid his hand down to feel his hole, and heat burst in his chest when he discovered that Baz meant that literally. He’d prepared himself before he’d come, slick with lube, hole relaxed and warm around Keith’s fingers. He pulled away from Baz’s dick and sat back, tearing at his pants. “Turn over, baby,” he demanded breathlessly. “Wanna fuck you into the mattress.” Baz scrambled to obey, on his elbows and knees, face in the blanket and ass in the air.

“Fuck yes.” Keith spat into his hand and slicked his cock, then knee-walked forward until he was pressed against Baz. He thrust in, too eager to be gentle, and Baz hissed in pain. Keith tried to apologize, but all he got out was a grunt. Bright colors were popping everywhere, so welcome after weeks of nothing but muddy darkness, like fireworks in his chest. He was breathless and blind with the relief that swamped him as his hips took over, thrusting him into Baz. He could tell that he wasn’t going to last more than a few seconds, already on the ragged edge of pleasure. He could hear Baz’s voice, muffled and indistinct over the roar of blood in his ears, and then he was coming, hips jerking as his orgasm ripped through him. It was more pain than euphoria, sharp and bitter like the first streak of heat over frozen flesh, and it left him drained. He slumped forward and sucked in a deep breath, then coughed as Baz’s elbow dug into his rib. “Get off me!” Keith’s thoughts felt scattered, like threads of logic floating on a breeze, but he tried to collect himself enough to pay attention to Baz. “Dammit, get off!” He finally heard the tremor in Baz’s voice, the bare note of

panic, and sat back. Shit. That had been rougher than he’d intended. It was like something had taken over, and he hadn’t even thought about how Baz must be feeling. Regret sucker-punched him, and he felt sick to his stomach at the thought of hurting Baz. “Shit, I’m sorry, kitten,” he said as he pulled out carefully. He saw Baz’s reddened asshole, and the guilt twisted deeper in his gut. Then thick, white liquid trickled out, and a frisson of panic spread through him. Once he was out, Baz pushed himself off the bed, avoiding any contact with Keith, and began gathering up his clothes with shaky hands. He wouldn’t look at Keith, and cum was running down the inside of his leg. “Oh God.” The words caught in his throat, choking him. “Oh God, Baz, I’m so—I’m so sorry.” Baz didn’t respond, pulling on clothes haphazardly with short, jerky movements. “Baz…” Finally, fully dressed, bare toes curling into the hotel carpet, Baz paused. He turned his face just enough that Keith could see his expression but still didn’t make eye contact. “I—I need to go. Tell…tell Adam…”

All the blood in Keith’s body ran ice-cold at the thought of Adam knowing what he’d done. Baz finished his sentence and didn’t wait for a response before leaving the room. For all that he had every right to slam the door behind him, it slid closed with a soft, condemning click. It was all Keith could do to get to the bathroom before he threw up. Chapter Twenty-five

Adam almost didn’t recognize him at first, hunched over and walking quickly away from the front door of the hotel. He looked so harried and hunted that Adam couldn’t help the uncertainty in his voice when he called out, “Sebastian?” Sebastian paused for a bare moment, nothing more than a hesitation in his step that could have been a stumble if not for the way he glanced over his shoulder. But he didn’t stop, didn’t acknowledge Adam’s call with more than that. In fact, if anything, he walked faster, hands shoved in his pockets, head low. “Sebastian!” His walk turned into a run as he made a beeline for the parking lot, for a car with a weirdly faded paint job, and

Adam’s hint of worry exploded. He was torn between going after Sebastian and running up to the room to check on Keith, but since Sebastian was already getting into his car, ignition starting with a vengeance before the door was even closed, Adam took that as a sign that Sebastian didn’t want his attention. Instead Adam strode into the hotel, doing his best not to break into a run until he was out of sight of the concierge and the other guests. He punched the button for the elevator, but when the door didn’t open right away, he broke for the stairs instead, taking them two at a time as he raced up to the third floor. He missed the slot with the keycard the first two times he tried to unlock the door, then pushed his way into the room on the third try, looking around for any sign of his lover. “Keith?” The sound of retching greeted him from the bathroom, and he stepped around the corner to find Keith sprawled in front of the toilet, jeans around his thighs, his skin frighteningly pale. “Babe?” Adam stepped forward cautiously, trying to catch any sign of awareness in his eyes. He looked stunned, gaze dull and unfocused. “Are you okay? What happened?” Keith managed to look up at him then, but he still didn’t

speak. “I saw Sebastian leaving. He looked upset. Did something…go wrong?” Keith laughed harshly, but the bitter smile quickly twisted into a frown. “Yeah. I… Fuck.” Keith was shaking, and Adam lowered himself to the floor beside him. A quick glance in the toilet bowl showed that whatever Keith had been retching up, it hadn’t consisted of a lot of food. He probably hadn’t eaten much that day, like every other day for the past few weeks. “Can you…tell me about it?” Adam ventured, taking one of Keith’s hands between both of his. The flesh was chilled, and Adam rubbed briskly, trying to warm him up. He locked down all the feelings of panic, shut them behind an open face and a helpful expression, and tried to focus on getting Keith calm enough to tell him the story. Keith watched the motion for long moments before he nodded shortly and took a deep breath. “I… He showed up. We… I was happy to see him. I was actually turned on.” Keith’s eyes flicked up uncertainly, checking Adam’s expression. He nodded. He knew what a big deal it was for Keith to have felt arousal, the way things were going lately. He felt a little stab of envy, but that clearly wasn’t the point of this story. “Go on.”

“So we were kissing. Making out. It got serious. He took his clothes off, asked me to fuck him, said he was already prepared. And he was. And I just… I don’t know what happened. I don’t remember anything except this rush of… Anyway, so I fuck him. I come almost as soon as I get inside him, hair-trigger. Next thing I know, he’s struggling, trying to get me off of him. He’s really upset. So I get off him.” Keith took a deep breath, his fingers flexing in Adam’s grip. When he spoke again, his voice trembled. “That’s when I noticed I…wasn’t wearing a condom.” A chill spread through Adam’s stomach, and he stopped rubbing Keith’s hand. “Did he not realize it before you came?” “I’m not sure he had time. But maybe he did. Maybe he was even telling me to stop, and I didn’t hear him. Oh God, Adam, I…” He stopped, sniffed, and Adam could tell he was on the verge of something, maybe tears, maybe a breakdown. For a moment, Adam thought he might not be the only one. He pulled on Keith’s hand, guiding him closer so he could put both arms around him and hold him. “Shh, baby. Shh.” He kissed Keith’s hair, fighting to keep his own breathing steady as his adrenaline ebbed, leaving him trembling in its wake. “We get tested every six months anyway, you know, and we’ve never had a problem.” “But what if there is a problem? What if I got something

from one of the guys we slept with since then?” He leaned more fully against Adam’s chest and whispered, “What if I got Baz sick?” “Then…I guess we’ll deal with it. You probably didn’t, though.” He rubbed Keith’s back. “We’ll get another test done and give Sebastian the results. Pay for him to get his own test. It’ll be okay.” Keith clung to him for a while before he said, “But what if he was saying no, and I didn’t hear him? I don’t… I don’t think he’s going to be okay being with someone who r…did that to him.” Assurances died on Adam’s lips. He’d seen Sebastian leaving, and he had been upset. “I guess we’ll have to play it by ear.” He hugged Keith closer, one hand rubbing up and down his back, and tried not to think too hard about all the things that could go wrong. ****

Sebastian had told Adam when they arrived where his apartment building was and what number he lived in. It had been done with the expectation that if Sebastian’s roommate needed to borrow his car, Adam and Keith could come pick him up to take him to the hotel. He wasn’t sure the invitation to show up still stood, but he’d had their doctor

fax his and Keith’s last blood test results to the hotel, and he was determined to deliver them to Sebastian. It had only been a few hours since Sebastian had left, and he wondered if he shouldn’t give the kid a little more time, but in the end, he drove over anyway. Keith stayed in the car as Adam climbed the steps to the second floor and knocked on door 207. He had texted Sebastian to let him know they were coming so he wouldn’t answer the door and be surprised. Adam hoped he answered the door at all. Just when he was about to give up and slide the papers under the door, it swung open to reveal a hard-eyed, stonyfaced young man about Sebastian’s age. He blocked the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, and met Adam’s gaze without flinching. “He doesn’t want to see you.” Adam nodded. “You’re his roommate, then? Jason, was it?” He held out the folder that contained the results, and Jason took it. “These are the most recent blood test results for me and Keith. We’re getting tested again as soon as we can find someone local to give us an appointment, but we thought he might like to have these. We’re both negative on everything.” He turned to go but then paused, looking back at Jason. “We are careful. Tell him we’re sorry, and we’re staying in

town for another few days if he wants to see us or talk. If he doesn’t, we understand.” Jason didn’t give any indication that he would do that, and Adam continued down the steps, pausing only when he heard Jason call out, “Wait.” He stopped, looking up, and waited. “Are you just fucking with him? Because I don’t give a fuck what TV Guide says about your show or how many albums your boyfriend sells. Baz is my friend, and I do give a fuck about him and what happens to him.” Adam made a point of turning to face Jason straight on, opening his stance and his face to be as honest as possible. “So do I. So does Keith.” He took a deep breath. “We’re not just fucking with him. We’re serious. But there are complications, and something happened today. I don’t know how much he’s told you, so I’ll leave it at that. If that’s too much for him, I understand, but believe me when I tell you, letting him go will hurt like hell.” Jason studied him for long moments more before he finally nodded. “Good.” He went back into the apartment and closed the door, and Adam made it halfway back to the car before he let himself stop and look back at the apartment. There was someone watching him in one of the darkened windows. Even with

the glow from the streetlamp, Adam couldn’t see his face, but he thought the figure was too short to be Jason. He stood where he was, staring at the silhouette until the curtain twitched back into place. When he got back into the car, Keith was sitting so stiffly in the passenger’s seat that he could have been a carved statue. Adam waited for a moment, listening to the soft hum of the engine and the heater, and watched him. Finally, when Keith didn’t even look at him, he asked, “You okay?” Keith took a deep, shuddering breath and shook his head. “Look, I… All this time, I’ve told you I didn’t want to get treatment for this.” Adam’s heart stopped before it skipped a beat, but he didn’t dare let himself start hoping yet. He held his tongue and waited. “I kept telling myself I wasn’t anything like my father. Wasn’t like that Cameron Bryce asshole. Sure, I had shit days, but I could handle it. I could minimize the damage. My old man never quit drinking. I did. I knew my boundaries, my limits. I didn’t hurt anyone.” His stony mask cracked, and his eyebrows drew together. “Until today.” He turned, meeting Adam’s eyes, and the pain in his own was heartbreaking. “The thing is, I love you, and I hurt you all those years ago. I told myself it was the drinking, but that just made something worse that was already there. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with

Baz, and I hurt him today. If we’re lucky, the long-term effects won’t be anything worse than a bad scare, but I hurt him.” Adam reached over and laid his hand over one of Keith’s clenched fists. It was like holding a rock. “My fucking career isn’t worth hurting people. ‘Keeping a low profile’ can go to hell if it means I have to make choices that put the people I love in danger.” His hand relaxed enough to let Adam’s fingers curl into his palm. “When we get back to LA, I’ll go see a therapist. My father never got treatment because he was too damn proud to admit he had a problem, even after the doctors told him he did. If I’m going to be better than him, I’m going to stop acting like him. And if Grissom or my label has a problem with that, they can sue me for breach of contract and go find themselves some other rock star.” Gratefulness and affection unwound in Adam’s heart, and he leaned over to kiss Keith gently on the cheek. Years of fighting over and avoiding the topic were finally coming to an end, and Adam couldn’t help but feel that his faith in the man in front of him had finally been vindicated. “Just so you know,” he said gruffly, “I love you, and no matter what happens, I will not go looking for another rock star.” When Keith gave him a watery smile, he planted a soft kiss on his lips. “One’s about all I can handle of you.”

Keith leaned into him, pressing their foreheads together, and after a few moments, he asked quietly, “Now what?” “Now we wait. Ball’s in Sebastian’s court. He’ll either call us or he won’t. In the meantime, we’re going to go get tested again, and we’ll send those results to him.” He gently disentangled himself from Keith and put the car in gear. As he pulled out of the parking lot, he added, “And we’ll keep our fingers crossed that everything goes as well as it possibly can.” Chapter Twenty-six

“It can take a few weeks for things to show up on the tests after your first exposure,” the nurse said as she swiped an alcohol pad over the inside of Sebastian’s elbow, wiping away the pinprick of blood that welled there. “So it’s safest if you come back in six weeks to have the panel run again to be sure.” Sebastian nodded, watching as she pressed a cotton ball to the puncture wound and taped it with medical tape. “How long will it take to get the results from this panel?” “The test will take anywhere from twenty-four to seventy-two hours. Most people don’t want a call unless something shows up.” She gave him a searching look. “Would you like

to be notified either way?” “Yes, please.” He brushed his fingertips over the cottonball and tape. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” She smiled at him as he left the little room. “Have a good day.”

I fucking hope so. “You too.” The truth was, he didn’t know how any day could be good until he knew what he was facing. And even if he was fine—the papers Jason had given him last night, that Adam had brought over, said that Keith and Adam were both negative—he still had to decide what to do about everything else. He had a lot to think about it, and it nagged at him all the way home from the clinic. Adam had warned him that Keith had problems, but he hadn’t been expecting Keith to ignore him when he’d tried to get him to stop. Then again, it had all happened so fast. Sebastian had barely realized what was going on before Keith was coming, and then the panic had twisted in him so painfully that he’d had to get out. Still, Sebastian had said stop, and Keith hadn’t stopped. He’d explained it to Jason in halting phrases, forcing the words out past a throat that was almost too tight to breathe. “He seemed so shocked afterward, like he hadn’t realized

it. And maybe he didn’t. I don’t know. All I know is it scared me—bad.”

He remembered Adam telling him when they’d first slept together—a lifetime ago, it felt like—that he and Keith really had broken up once, but it hadn’t been over any of the alleged cheating. Now he wondered if it was over something like this. Had Keith hurt someone like this before? Had Keith hurt Adam? Even underneath the echoes of his own fear, he felt a twinge of sympathy. He knew Keith, knew how much he cared. He remembered the horror on Keith’s face as he’d realized what had happened, the tremor in his voice and his hands. He already knew he wasn’t going to hold this against him, but he also wasn’t sure he could commit to a relationship under those circumstances. He fiddled with the edges of the medical tape as he waited for the light to change so he could turn in to his apartment complex. Jason had said Keith and Adam would be in town for a few more days, that they would be waiting for him if he wanted to talk to them. Did he want to? No, that was a stupid question. If he didn’t have some kind of closure to this, it would always bother him. He would talk to them; he just didn’t know when. He would wait until he had the results of the tests, and then he would call and ask them to meet him somewhere. Somewhere in public, in a wide-open space.

God, I hope it’s only twenty-four hours.

****

Keith looked haggard, like he hadn’t slept since Sebastian had seen him two days ago. Adam looked tired too, but he seemed relaxed, almost happy. Adam set their little plastic order number on the table and pulled his chair up closer to the table. It was a sunny day, warm for early February, but it was still cold enough that they were the only ones outside on the patio. Nobody seemed to know how to start the small talk, and Sebastian almost laughed at the absurdity of it. He wondered if it would have been this awkward if the conversation had happened three days before, when it was supposed to. So much had changed in so little time, and yet not much had changed at all. Keith cleared his throat and braced his elbows on the table as he leaned forward earnestly. “I want to start off by saying I’m really sorry. I didn’t know. I wasn’t…all there that day. If I had realized… It’s no excuse, but I didn’t know I was hurting you. I am so sorry.” Sebastian nodded, stiff and awkward but relieved. “Thank you. I—I had wondered if… Anyway, thank you.” “We got our more recent test results,” Adam said. “They’re

negative. The last time we had sex with anyone except you was about two months ago, so anything from those encounters should have shown up by now.” Sebastian sucked in a deep breath and then let it out. “My initial results are negative too. I’m still going to get retested in six weeks, just in case, but—that takes a lot off my mind. Thank you.” With that unpleasant business out of the way, they fell into silence once more, and Sebastian fiddled with the edge of a napkin. He knew they were all waiting to broach the same subject—what was going to happen to their relationship?— but he didn’t know how to break the ice, and apparently neither did anyone else. And then Keith started talking, and Sebastian realized he’d been completely wrong. “When I was growing up, my father was an alcoholic. It wasn’t until years later, until he was in a nursing home, slowly dying, that I found out he also had bipolar disorder. They called it manic depressive back then. He’d never been treated. As far as I know, he never knew he had it. By the time we found that out, he was practically on death’s doorstep anyway.” Sebastian stared at Keith, but his gaze was fixed on the table. He glanced at Adam and got a nod and an

encouraging smile, then focused on Keith again as he continued talking. “Apparently, bipolar is as hereditary as alcoholism. I went into treatment for alcoholism three years ago—the only time Adam and I have ever broken up. I hurt him, he left me, and I drank myself damn near into a coma. I went to rehab.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “While I was in rehab, the therapist suggested I might have bipolar as well. He wanted me to see someone, maybe see about going on medication. My manager threw a fit.” Keith paused while the server stopped at their table and passed out their sandwiches and soup. Once she’d gone back inside and they’d all started on their food, Adam giving Keith a pointed look, Keith continued between spoonfuls of soup. “Anyway, long story short, I got told mental illness kills sales and record deals, and if I knew what was good for me, I’d keep a lid on it. And I didn’t fight it too hard. I didn’t want to admit I was like my old man—I hated him—and I thought I could keep it under control.” Keith paused, stirring his soup thoughtfully, and then he finally looked up and made eye contact with Sebastian. His expression was so open, so vulnerable, that Sebastian could do nothing but sit and wait to hear what he had to say.

“I was wrong, and I was an idiot. When Adam and I go back to LA, I’m going to see a therapist, probably start taking medication. I’m going to take care of this as best as I can. What happened the other day was my fault. If I hadn’t been so stubborn, I might have had help dealing with this clusterfuck in my head before now, and maybe you wouldn’t have been hurt.” Sebastian felt his breath catch in his chest and looked down at his burger and fries, waiting until the tightness around his rib cage eased. When he could breathe again, he nodded and looked up. “I’m glad you’re going to get help —for yourself if for nothing else. And thank you for telling me. That means a lot.” Keith looked disappointed, but he focused on his soup instead. Adam watched them both carefully and finally spoke up. “I know from experience that taking a chance on something like this isn’t easy, and if you feel like it isn’t worth it, no one will blame you.” He fidgeted with his water glass, and Sebastian watched him carefully. On closer examination, despite his relaxed demeanor, Adam’s exhaustion was more visible. Dark circles under his eyes and deepened lines beside his mouth emphasized the slump of his shoulders, and Sebastian felt suddenly, oddly protective. “Keith and I have maintained balance in our relationship, for the most part, but even with treatment and medication,

there will be problems. Not just because of Keith’s bipolar or my tendency to ignore my needs to take care of everyone else, but we’re three men in a society where even two men together is a test of people’s tolerance and understanding.” “You sound like you’re trying to talk me out of it,” Sebastian said wryly. Adam’s laugh was dry and a touch bitter. “No, but I do want you to know for sure what you’re getting into. Even if things between us work well, it won’t be a walk in the park. And you don’t have to make a decision now. Take your time and think about it.” Sebastian gathered his courage and took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I ever told you, but I’m a journalism major. That’s a conflict of interests to your careers right there, although I’d never sell you out.” Keith glanced up sharply, surprise on his features. Adam waited, eating his sandwich and seeming to keep an eye on how much Keith was eating. Sebastian looked more closely at Keith’s sallow complexion and wondered if he’d been skipping meals on top of everything else. “I live in Charlotte. You’re in LA. The press already knows about me. If I start showing up with you guys a lot, they’re never going to believe that I’m just a friend. We’ll be outed by default.” He waited, watching them for reactions, but neither of them

seemed troubled by any of this. Finally, Adam put his sandwich down and wiped his hands on his napkin. “In all of that,” he said slowly, “I didn’t hear anything about how you feel or what you want. I think if we all know what we want, we can deal with the outside issues from that perspective.” Sebastian could suddenly feel every cold, tingly bit of skin where the sun wasn’t enough to warm him against the breath of winter inside his body. The idea of laying his cards on the table first, of telling them that he dreamed about them, that he missed them, that he longed for them— it was fucking terrifying, no matter how much of a gesture they’d made by flying all the way out to Charlotte to have this conversation. But then he thought of Keith facing the wrath of his manager and possibly his label to go to therapy because he’d hurt Sebastian. He thought of Adam and his infinite patience, his care for Sebastian, his constant insistence that Sebastian be taken care of in any situation, and he decided he was brave enough. “I don’t know for sure, but I think I might be falling in love with both of you. Well, might have already fallen. A little. Or a lot.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know how the fuck we can make this work, but I think I want to try. I know that I tried to move on when I got home, when I thought y’all were done

with me, and I couldn’t. I don’t want to. I want to ride this— whatever it is—between us as far as it will go. That’s what I want.” Adam smiled like he’d just found a Christmas present he’d forgotten to open, and Keith dropped his spoon to the saucer under his soup bowl. “We feel exactly the same,” Adam assured him as Keith got out of his chair and came around the table. To Sebastian’s everlasting surprise, Keith got down on one knee beside his chair and laid one hand carefully over Sebastian’s. “I want you to know,” Keith murmured, “this is not a game to us. We are not playing with you.” “O-okay,” Sebastian stammered, still stunned to see Keith kneeling, bloodshot eyes looking up at him earnestly, and then Keith leaned in closer. “I’d really like it,” he said softly, “if I could kiss you now.” Sebastian nodded, but then Adam was leaning into his personal space, his chair scraping over the concrete patio as it tilted with him. “Hang on now,” he protested. “I’m not getting left out of this.”

Sebastian kissed Keith first, then Adam, both of them brief, chaste kisses that could almost be mistaken for brotherly. He was intensely glad for the full-size advertisement panels hiding them from the inside diners, but even so, he was aware that the server might come back out at any moment. They seemed satisfied enough with the token, and Keith got up and went back to his seat. They sat in silence as they ate, although Sebastian had a hard time swallowing around the giddy feeling bubbling up in his throat. When he dared to look up, he found two sets of eyes watching him, two matching smiles turned on him, and suddenly the February air didn’t feel quite as chilled. For the first time, he dared to hope that it just might work out after all.

Loose Id Titles by M. Jules Aedin

Lovegames

Paper Planes

M. Jules Aedin

M. Jules is an over-the-top, outrageous, awe-inspiring smart ass who entertains the masses. She is sharp and witty and also a bit of a troublemaker. She has a modest home on the outskirts of the space-time continuum, which makes meeting deadlines something of a challenge. She was once Miss America, but thankfully she woke up and discovered that it was only a very bad dream. She cohabits with two feline companions and an entourage of imaginary friends, and at night she shares her bed with a stack of books that would make any librarian green with envy. Especially if it was a pervy librarian. You can find M. Jules all over the Internet, starting with http://mjules.net. From there, it’s anybody’s guess, but you might try her other cyber haunts: Twitter—http://twitter.com/mjaedin LiveJournal—http://mjaedin.livejournal.com Yahoo! Group—http://groups.yahoo.com/group/mjules/

Table of Contents

Dedication Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-one Chapter Twenty-two Chapter Twenty-three Chapter Twenty-four Chapter Twenty-five Chapter Twenty-six Loose Id Titles by M. Jules Aedin M. Jules Aedin