It was August 1995, the middle of winter, or at least what passed for it in Sydney. The recording session that evening had not gone particularly well, culminating in a loud argument between Darren, Daniel, and their producer Charles Fisher. They finally had the good sense to call it a night, but the tension remained even after they returned home. Daniel ended up excusing himself to go for a walk before things could blow again.

Returning to the flat, he found Darren still in a sullen mood, barely acknowledging the popcorn he was eating or the movie on tv. Sitting down on the couch, Daniel saw it was one of those so-called "art" flicks SBS ran late at night.

Daniel smirked. "I don't recall Princess Leia ever doing that to Han Solo."

"Fuck you."

"Sheesh, take a fucking joke, will ya?" Daniel lit a cigarette, absentmindedly blowing smoke as he breathed in the tobacco.

"Christ, Daniel!" Darren hissed, hurling a pillow across the room. "Have some fucking courtesy for someone else's health. You're not the only one who lives here, you know."

"No, it's you, me, and your ego." Daniel's temper could be as short as Darren's, and this was definitely not the night to set it off. Especially when Darren responded by leaping up and pinning Daniel to the couch.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't punch you in the face right now!" Darren snarled, his eyes blazing with fury.

"How should I know? Go right ahead. I dare you."

That threw Darren off for a second. His eyes softened a little, but his grip didn't loosen. It looked as if he was contemplating his next move, which Daniel was both anticipating and fearing.

What Darren did do, he didn't expect at all.

Darren planted a soft kiss on the blond man's lips. It was a kiss of apology; no words were further needed. Daniel surprised them both by parting his mouth to receive, his tongue darting out to meet his friend's. The grip had turned into an embrace, holding onto each other, never wanting to let go ever.

When they finally had to, Darren looked stricken. "Daniel, I--"

"You don't need to. I've always wanted you too. We've been so close to each other these last few months, it's down to either fucking or beating the crap out of each other."

Darren smiled. "I choose fucking."

"What a coincidence. So do I." Their mouths met again, a kiss so unsure turning certain, hands groping at clothes in an attempt to undress. Darren and Daniel looked at each other shyly, as if they were adolescents. They weren't much past that--Darren was twenty-three years old, Daniel had just turned twenty-two.

Daniel brushed aside Darren's shoulder-length black hair to nibble at his neck; Darren sighed. His reaction was to sit up and lift Daniel's t-shirt off in one motion, tracing a path with his lips that started at Daniel's chin and ended at his stomach, tasting salty-sweet boy sweat.

It was intoxicating, and it was so natural, like making love to a mirror image. Darren and Daniel were both naked from the waist up; they touched every piece of bare skin they could find, waiting for what one another would do. They really were just boys discovering each other for the very first time.

They looked into each other's eyes, daring to continue.

"If you want to, I'll stop. No questions asked," Daniel said.

Darren bit his lip and took a breath. "No. Don't stop."

Daniel's hands traveled to Darren's fly, waiting for the signal before going further. Now that he had it, there would be no turning back. He laid Darren down, tearing down his jeans and sliding a hand on his crotch. Daniel let his fingers dance over the soft cotton material of Darren's boxers as he led his friend's hand to his own pants, removing them himself when Darren hesitated.

One piece of clothing remained between them. Daniel laid on top, easing his legs between Darren's, so they were in a criss-cross pattern. Their erections rubbed together so slightly; enough to send shivers.

"I want you," Daniel whispered, leading Darren by the chin to confirm the statement; a kiss lingering and tasting of that same boy-sweat. Their crotches pressed harder as they leaned into each other. Daniel slid his hand inside, touching Darren's warm sex.

Darren shuddered. "That feels so good."

"Let's rub together. Here..." Their legs wrapped around each other, hands on one another's penises; breathing through their mouths as one entity. Sighs escalating into moans; the pulse becoming faster as they dared to press even closer. Darren tipped his head back as Daniel licked up his throat. Darren cried out, holding tightly onto Daniel with his free hand, losing control and riding the wave.

"Oh here we go!" Daniel nearly yelled. INdeed, they climaxed almost as one, their free arms around each other's backs, their fingers intertwining, their cum blending, feeding one another their combined ejaculation.

Ever so slowly, they floated back downward, gazing into each other's eyes in the afterglow, knowing the thin line between friends and lovers had been permanently crossed.

"Daniel--"

"Don't talk." Daniel pressed his lips against Darren's for one final sweet kiss before they fell asleep on the couch, Daniel still on top, buried in Darren's hair and flesh against flesh.