JC smiled indulgently as Justin ran his hands over the highly polished wood. He watched Justin caress the felt, tickle the fringe on the holes…basically molesting his new pool table. “Isn’t it beautiful?” he breathed, touching the shiny balls with his a finger, then wiping off the smudge with his shirt tail. JC so wanted to disagree. The table was a horror. Way too fancy for his taste, with ornate carvings and the ubiquitous Tiffany lamp hanging over it. But the look on Justin’s face kept him quiet. Justin’s taste for fancy things had always been opposite JC’s, but hey, he loved the boy anyway. “It’s a lovely table, Just. Matches the house perfectly.” Justin grinned. “Doesn’t it, though?” He walked around the table to the cue stick rack. “I knew it would fit in this room, and look how the light from the windows catches the stained glass on the lamp?” he said with a wave. JC could only nod. He watched as Justin opened a case next to the cue sticks, his eyes widening as he withdrew a custom made pool cue. “When did you get that?” he asked. “When I bought the table,” Justin answered, chalking up his cue. “The salesman said anyone who is serious about billiards should have their own cue, one that no one else should use.” He slid the cue stick through his fingers. “That way, it conforms to the owners hands, and only works well for him.” JC bit his lip to keep from laughing, and again, could only nod. He scooted out of the way as Justin walked by to rack the balls in the frame. “So…you want to play?” Justin finally asked JC. “Nah, I don’t think so,” JC said. “Come on, C,” Justin pleaded. “I know you don’t play well, er, often, but we could make it interesting.” JC raised a brow at Justin’s words. “Interesting, how?” “Money?” JC snorted. “I have more money than you, lover. What do I need more for?” Justin pondered that for a moment. He smiled slyly and lowered his cue stick, rubbing it along JC’s shirt and flipping the collar with the tip. “How about,” he said, leaning closer to JC. “We play for clothes.” “Strip pool?” Justin nodded. “You’re on.” *** Twenty minutes later, Justin stood open mouth and practically naked as JC lined up his last shot. “When??? Where??? HOW???” Justin was so shocked he couldn’t form a complete sentence. JC didn’t even look at Justin’s words. “Eight ball, side pocket.” He struck the cue ball with a hard thump, smiling as it hit the eight ball, sending the black sphere straight into the pocket he’d designated. He laid his cue stick down on the table and looked at Justin, shivering in the cool room. “I believe you owe me a pair of boxers.” “You owe me an explanation first!” Justin demanded. JC laughed. “What did you think Tony and Dale and I did for all that time we were together?” he explained simply. “But…” Justin shook his head, his mind replaying JC’s skill. “Why didn’t you ever play with us? Why did you just let us think you weren’t any good?” JC shrugged. “I guess I never played with you guys because I really don’t enjoy it anymore,” he explained. “And it was easier to let you think I didn’t like to play. If Chris knew…you know how competitive he is…he’d never let me alone!” “I guess,” Justin said, unscrewing his cue stick. “But why did you play now?” JC’s eyes slid up and down Justin’s nearly naked form. Justin felt himself heat up under that gaze, felt the stirring of his groin, felt his heart start beating faster as JC walked around the table toward him. “Until now, the stakes weren’t worth it,” JC said, running a finger around a tightly distended nipple. Justin swallowed as JC pressed closer. “And now?” “Hmm,” JC said, running his tongue lightly along Justin’s jaw, his hand covering Justin’s growing erection. “Now, there’s only one cue stick I want near my balls,” JC said with a nip of teeth. Justin’s laugh turned to a groan as JC slipped gracefully to his knees.