"So he's a catch? Like I predicted? C'mon, Hairy Sleeping Beauty. Show some signs of life here. Is he?" "Hmm. He's a catch. Totally." Justin smiled to himself, grabbed a wrinkled pillow from beside him on the mattress, and flung it over his face, holding the phone receiver against his ear with the other hand. Pale amber morning sunlight streamed in his bedroom window because, distracted as he'd been by something - or someone - he'd forgotten to shut the blinds before falling to the bed only hours ago. He'd hardly slept at all during those few hours, but he wasn't feeling tired in the least. Ticklish simmering adrenaline still purred through his veins from the night before. Beneath the pillow, his smile widened. "Yes, that one's definitely a catch. Like you predicted. So give yourself a big, honking round of applause, Lance." "And have you caught him yet?" Lance asked pointedly through the phone. "What?" Justin groaned. His brain may have been fully awake, but it was also still functioning fully in a dense fog. Lance huffed impatiently. "Pull that fat head of yours out of your asshole, if you don't mind, J. Time's wasting here. Have. You. Caught. Him. Yet?" "Meaning?" On the other end of the call, Lance rolled his eyes. "Meaning did you and the sexy brunette go at it and get all bowed up and sweaty on the racquetball court last night, dude?" Justin smirked behind his soft-down facemask. "Um, I thought this was James Lance Bassenbaum calling me up at ass o'clock on Saturday morning, not Crass-Ass Wade Dickhead Robson. Gutter-mouth much, man?" "Shut up. You already know I gutter-mouth much." Lance, as Justin knew, was historically good at cutting to the heart of the matter. "Justin, did you fuck him or not? Inquiring minds and all." Through the phone, Justin could hear Jesse whispering excitedly next to Lance, "So did they do it or not? Well? Spill it! Did they? How was it? Make him tell you everything, baby! Is he going back for seconds with this guy?" He could also hear lots of other people and random outdoor noises in the background. "Lance, where in the hell are you two? Talking nasty in public like that! Jesus Christ. How much do I love having my sex life discussed like that? Thanks a fucking lot." "Oh, chill out, J. Nobody around here could give a crap what we're saying. And it's almost 11 a.m., for your 4-1-1. Not ass o'clock. Jess and I brought the kids and their leashes down to this cool arts festival in Santa Monica this morning. So they can run around and mingle with other furry chi'rens. Now back to the original topic. Was your date with that Athletic Adonis a success or not, man? Do you even HAVE a sex life now for us to discuss? Out with it, so to speak." Justin sighed and couldn't help but smile again. "It was a HELL of a success all the way. But no. We didn't have sex. Now go on. Turn your head to Jesse and make one of those little evil, snarky Lance faces you think are so damn cute. You know you will." "No, you didn't have sex? What the fuck? Are you seri-" "Lance, word. Not everybody lays down and spreads their legs for cock on the first semi-date with a hotly attractive person the way YOU do." "I don't do that anymore, Timberprick. And you know it. I've got my own fulltime permanent cock to lay down and spread for now, thanks all the same. And trust me. It's damn hotly attractive." Justin wrinkled his nose and groaned again as he listened to his friend lean over and smooch Jesse's cheek out in Santa Monica. Wetly. Twice. "Lah lah lah lah. It's way too early for your shit, Lance. I can't even hear you, man. Ears covered over here." "Did you at least get to feel the guy up? Rub all against him and find out how big it is?" "Damn, you're a twisted perv, Lance. You seriously need twisted perv therapy." "Justin, your hymen WILL grow back over if you don't use that thing more than once a damn century." "We didn't even kiss, Lance. Well, not really anyway." It was just a kiss-lite, maybe, he remembered silently to himself. A ghost of a sweet touch, skin against skin, a whispered preview taste, rich and hot enough to make you wait as long as you have to for more, for the full flavor of that mouth. "You didn't even kiss? Justin? No fucking way! That makes about as much sense as hunting moose on a damn Harley." Justin squinted, totally confused. "What?" "Never mind. Look. The guy's a hot-ass heartthrob! I've seen him! You know you wanted to throw him down and fuck him crazy. And you didn't even put your mouth on him? Not one throbbing sexy inch of him? You dumbass." Justin rolled his eyes. "Will you shut your trap and listen to what DID happen? Jesus." "Listening." "Okay. It was great. We talked. For a long-ass time. It was fantastic. We got to know each other way better in, like, lots of areas of our different lives. And we clicked. We absolutely clicked. Right off the bat too, I'm saying. At least I hope he thinks we did. I certainly felt it. Fuck, I really hope he felt it too. And at the end of the night, we did exchange a hug……….It was so warm and nice." "Okay. I like the sound of that, I have to admit. Good enough start. For a prude like you." "Fuck you, Lance. And get this. We're meeting up again tomorrow night, man." "Semi-date number two? Yawn," Lance monotoned. "Shut up, Lance. You told me to take it slow, to get comfortable with the whole idea of somebody new before rushing into it." "Did I? Must've been stone-drunk or sniffing glue or something." "Lance." "I'm teasing. You know that. I have to tease you, babe." Lance chuckled easily. "But seriously. Bravo, J. I'm proud of you for even getting this far with the guy. That's awesome. Congrats. And I mean it. A slow start beats no start. And, best of all, you sound good, cheerful, upbeat. Not whiny and uptight like usual." "Fuck you again, Lance." "I'm being serious, man! You sound really relaxed and pleased. Now just imagine how much better you'll sound if date two goes as smashingly well as date one did, right? This dude might just be a better thing for you than any of us predicted." Justin rolled over, and so did his entire gut. He shoved the pillow under the side of his head now and grinned. "You and your predictions. Yawn." "Hey. I can predict. Don't knock it. Now tell me more about the racquetball hottie." "Ah, there's so much to say. He's so full of life, Lance. So vibrant, so full of everything warm. He's just, like, brimming with it. And he seems to leak it out to people around him. It's hard to describe. I mean I've never spent any time with somebody like him before." Justin shifted anxiously onto his back again, tossed the pillow aside, and rested his free hand on his bare abdomen, just above the flutter going on inside there. "He was……….is so damn easy to talk to. His personality is so big it just oozes out of him. And he sort of wavers back and forth between that high-voltage smoldering sexuality and this weird, unguarded oddball behavior that's just the most spontaneous and adorable thing you've ever fucking seen. It's like he's so smooth and sleek sometimes and yet at other times so cute and awkward, like a child. And he's good at so many different things too. He's, like, all over the map, sort of like, I don't know, a Renaissance man or whatever. He's talented at tons of things. There's probably never a dull moment with this one, man." "You really like him, don't you, J?" It was more of a confirmation than a question from Lance. "I do, man. Can't deny it. He's different. And different in a damn good way. And how much did I want to touch him last night in that parking lot when we were leaving and saying goodnight……….My fingers were so aching to hold on to him for longer, to feel more of his warm skin." Lance laughed again, low and quiet. "See? I told you. You get a little of something good, and it leaves you breathless and wanting more. Lots more. So I'm saying. You'd BETTER fucking touch him more next time. I'm so serious, man. And you know what else, J? This JC dude doesn't even have a clue what a land mine keg of ready-to-blow dynamite he's sitting on with you. Woo hoo! Lucky boy. Both of you." "I'm just hoping he wants to find out. You know……….find out more. About me." "Ah, now don't start up again with that damn self-doubting," Lance snapped lightly. I'm not even hearing you. Ears covered to that shit over here. Lah lah lah lah. You've got a second date with the boy, don't you?" "Yeah." Justin didn't even try to repress the smile burning on his mouth at that thought. He was seeing those deep blue eyes of JC's across the table again and remembering how their heat had gotten into him enough to seemingly melt his heart. "I'm seeing him again tomorrow." "Then drop the crap about him not wanting to know more of you. That's proof right there, J. Look forward to it. Revel in the newness of it all. It's like a special, sweet window of time for you right now. Somebody new in your life you're getting familiar with. Knock yourself out enjoying it." "I hope I can keep it from Mom. Man, she's coming over for dinner tonight. I am so not ready to lay it on her yet. Whatever IT is." "Good luck, man. Lynnster usually sniffs out the hairy truth about her baby boy. Just like ol' Diane. They're two of a kind, Lord help us." Lance laughed. "Mothers. Ugh. Can't live with 'em. Can't avoid 'em forever." "Hey. Something else. Our match, mine and JC's, was on the same court where you and me snuck in to watch him that night, Lance," Justin remembered and laughed, easing the conversation back around to the subject of JC. "It was like freaky-ass déjà vu. And, um, so no. There was no bowing up and getting sweaty for anybody up there to be spying on." "You didn't rat us out, did you?" "Of course not! Why would I go and do something dumbass like that? I don't want to scare the guy away right at first with spooky stories about my perverted stalker insane friends." "Eat me, J. I've got to go, man. Time for a caffeine boost. Good luck with grub with the maternal unit tonight. Give her a hug for me. And I'll give you a ring tomorrow before your date. Deal?" "Sure. Kiss Jesse for me, man. You guys have yourselves some dog-walking festival fun. And be careful out there." "Yeah, we will. You know us. And don't forget. When you and your new crush start getting down to it and making each other scream for more, we still want a private viewing. Don't we, baby? Jess says, 'Hell fucking yes, we do,' J. Did you hear that, man?" Justin sighed, snickered. "Good-bye, Lance. And Jesse too. Love you guys." "We love you too. Celibate still or not." "I'm working on it, man! Gimme some time! Later, you coupla freaks." "Muah, Justin. Chow, babe." ~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~ "C'mon, C. It'll be fun. It'll be a gay ol' time. Well, at least it'll be different. And what the hell else have you got to do on this absolutely fabulous Saturday, huh? Plus, you already said you're too wired to be sitting around anywheres doing nothing. And we all know why THAT is, don't we?" "Why what is?" JC muttered distractedly, his head lowered as he walked along, focused on his personal data assistant like it was a hand-held video game. He'd been wavering toward withdrawn like this since he and Chris had left Starbucks a half hour earlier. "Why you're so strung out and zoned, man. And I hardly think it can be blamed on the two frothy lattes you chugged back at the coffee shop. You know what I'm saying?" Absently, JC sighed and hissed at the object in his double-fisted grasp. "Hmm. What are you saying?" Chris huffed and slapped at JC's exposed arm. "Chasez, wake up, spazz. What are you? ADD-ing one me here? I know where your mind is all laid up. What's the chap's spongy name again? Speaking of frothy? Haha. Westin?" JC's head shot up then and turned full attention on Chris as fast as lightning. Sparkly blue glimmers exploded in his irises like sunbursts. "Justin." "See? There ya go! At least one thing's registering behind those baby blues of yours, dude. I knew you were all awake and hot in there. Now look alive before you run right over some poor unsuspecting soul. You hear me?" JC smirked and glanced around, slowing the pace at which they were walking and talking in their surroundings. "And what the fuck did you say we're doing here, CK? 'Cause I'm, like, lost, man." "You're not lost. And we're chilling in Santa Monica on a beautiful afternoon. Post-Starbucks. Remember? We're taking in some sights." Chris's attention wandered sharply to the left of them at that moment, along with his gaze. "And woo hoo! Was that some dee-lish kind of sight there, baby, or what? I'd like to take that one down rather than in. Umm hmm. Niiice." JC rolled his eyes. "Um, the peroxide-head girlfriend in skin-tight Daisy-Dukes and a halter top on roller blades does it for you, man?" "I'd do her. Yessirree. In a heartbeat." Chris gawked at the tall, skimpily-clad, fleeting female who hadn't even glanced his way. "Knock yourself out, Chris. You know I'm leaving ALL the chica bimbs to you, dude." "Gee, thanks, C. That's awfully big of you, being a homo and all." "So besides you cruising tail in the park, why else are we out here for, man?" "C, look around! It's an arts festival! It's festive! It's got art sitting all over the damn place on display! Consider it a field trip for the gallery, yo! Like for the next exhibition, you know. And you're my main man in that department, dude. We can write this baby off as business travel all around, I'm saying. See?" Resignedly, JC sighed again and tucked his PDA away in one of the large pockets of his pants. Even behind his dark sunglasses, he squinted in the golden southern California sunshine. "Okay then. Since you dragged me down here, let's do it. Let's get festive. Or at least let's find some art to check out. Or whatever, man." Chris grinned with big, expressive eyes. "Yeah, now you're on board. Now we're talking."