Better Friends and Lovers

Chapter 11

(Setting: Babylon; POV: Brian)

No sooner did Danny enter the backroom and get hit with the sights and sounds of some two dozen sweaty, mainly naked men engaged in various forms of sex then he stopped dead in his tracks. I bumped into his back, almost knocking him down. I grabbed him around the waist to steady him.

"Hey, Brian, how's it going?"

"Good, Todd, how about you?" I smirked at Todd, engaged in his usual bottoming duties, happy grin on his face. Now there was a man who found his place in life and seemed to have no existential worries. He seemed to have no hemorrhoids, either, which was amazing, considering his lifestyle.

"Cute friend, new in town?" Todd asked. His ability to carry on conversations while someone pumped away at his ass never ceased to amuse me. From the expression on Danny's face, he didn't know what to make of our Todd.

"No, just hasn't been to Babylon in a while. Todd, this is Danny, Danny, Todd." Danny looked at me, then shrugged and waved his casted arm at Todd with a charming smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Todd, excuse me for not shaking hands. I'm sure we'll be meeting again, but please excuse us now. I've urgent business with Brian as I'm sure you can understand." Todd laughed and waved us on as his trick started to grunt.

"You guys have fun, I think this guy wants my attention anyway. He's a doll, Brian." With that, Todd got down to business with his trick and I pulled Danny away as he showed signs of becoming fascinated with watching the resident expert bottom ply his trade.

"Looking to pick up some tips?" I whispered in his ear as I found a spot on the wall and backed him up against it before undoing the rest of his shirt buttons. I licked my way from the inside of his ear down the column of his neck as my hands kept busy sliding that green shirt from his shoulders.

"Do I need them?" he asked, running his left hand up under the back of my own silk shirt and pulling me closer. With the heels on his boots, we were eye-to-eye, mouth-to-mouth. It was a nice change not having to bend over to kiss. Not that I ever minded. Before. I forced my mind not to wander down that path and focused instead on the hot man in front of me. Did he need tips on bottoming?

"Not that I noticed, but it has been awhile. I can't be sure," I teased him before moving in. I grabbed the back of his head and wrapped my hand in his thick hair. God, I loved that hair. I ran my tongue around his mouth; I could feel his body pressing up against me, his left hand pressing on my ass now, urging me closer; his cock hard against mine. I could feel the cold metal of those bracers contrasting with the heat of his upper arms against my back.

I pulled my head away slightly to catch a breath. He looked at me, green eyes glittering in the dim light.

"Is something wrong?" His voice was pitched low, for my ears only.

"Are you sure this is where you want to do it, in the backroom of Babylon? With all these men watching?" I asked him, raising my eyebrow at him. Somehow, this didn't seem his style. It certainly was my style, and I was horny as hell, but I couldn't help remembering that pause in the doorway. The glitter in his eyes burst into green flame, and he no longer bothered to keep his voice low. The deep voice wasn't loud so much as resonant enough to carry through the room.

"Brian, if you stop short of fucking me this time, I'm going to need to borrow some condoms from you, because I swear I am so horny right now, I'm going to fuck my way half way down this room and I don't think I brought enough with me." His hands gripped me like a vise, and for all the laughter in his voice, his eyes were dead serious.

"Excuse me." The trick standing next to our right had just finished giving a blow job and was avidly watching and listening, as was most of the backroom by this point. "I hate to interrupt, but would that be the half to your right, or the half to your left? Just in case, I'd hate to be on the wrong side, you understand." Other tricks in our immediate vicinity nodded, and an argument broke out as to whether switching sides now was permitted. Danny looked at me and grinned.

"Looks like I'm going to have to fuck the whole room now just to keep the peace," he noted. He leaned his head closer to mine and whispered in my ear, in his best "fuck me, you fool" voice.

"No, the backroom of Babylon is not my first choice; actually, my fantasy would be for you to ravish me on top of a grand piano, but since I don't see one handy, and you've been driving me crazy with lust all week, you ass, I'd no choice but to chase you down here, on your home turf, so to speak. So, what's it going to be, you fucking my brains out here, or me fucking this room full of tricks? I'm crazy enough to do it, you know." He'd run his hands up the front of my shirt, and was circling my nipples with his thumbs, and grinding his crotch against mine as he spoke. As though he needed to do any convincing. Grand piano, huh?

"Come with me." I grabbed his good hand and pulled him away from the wall to a door at the end of the room. He grabbed his shirt on the way and shrugged it back on.

"Brian, I'm serious, if you're not going to…." I stopped and kissed him. Hard.

"Shut up, Danny. Good things come to those who wait, fantasies even. I thought you were a man who knew how to wait for what he wanted?" I smirked at him. He stared back, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head questioningly. I had to laugh then, even if it cost me a great fuck; there was no way I could hold it in. He looked adorable, there was no other word for it, and if he knew how much he looked like his mother and niece when he did that, he would die. Fortunately for me, he didn't question the laugh, so I didn't have to think any more about when I even started having thoughts like that, which once upon a time would have made my dick fall off. He just stopped protesting and followed me, leaving behind some very disappointed tricks.

I used my key card to open a little used door at the end of the backroom. We escaped up to the second floor, where the VIP room was located that Ted had gotten added to the second floor when Babylon was rebuilt. It was very elegantly furnished, complete with a baby grand piano.

Danny looked at the instrument with delight. Of course, being a musician, he had to try the keys first, running his fingers over them and pronouncing its pitch perfect, before we could get back to business.

"So if it were out of tune, you wouldn't let me fuck you on it?" I asked, moving toward him purposefully, slipping off my shirt. He watched me undress, his eyes darkening. He smiled at me angelically before moving into my arms with that unique grace of his.

"Let's just say, the fantasy is perfect the way it is, so we'll never have to learn the answer to that question. I was willing to be fucked in the backroom, but on top of an out of tune piano, hmm, that's a tough call." He added in a deeper voice, "thank you, Brian, this is much, much better." He kissed me then, his lips just barely grazing mine. I pulled his unbuttoned shirt off, tossing it aside so I could caress his tanned, muscular shoulders. I backed him up until he leaned back against the piano and kicked off his boots. I kissed my way down his chest, and over those incredible abs; I continued without break, unfastening his jeans and sliding them off. I smiled to see he wore a black leather thong beneath his jeans and knelt to slide it off with my teeth, smiling again as I heard his quick intake of breath. His long hard cock stood out and I took it into my mouth. He moaned loudly, clutching at my hair. "Brian, I want to taste you."

"Soon, green eyes, but cum for me first. I'm supposed to be ravishing you, remember?" He smiled and stretched back on his elbows on the piano's gleaming finish, shaking his long hair out; fuck, he was gorgeous. I caressed the firm globes of his ass as I deep throated his dick, listening as his breathing grew faster. I lifted him up by his ass, so that he was lying on his back on the piano, with me crouching between his long legs that hung over the edge. I moved my mouth to his hole and started to rim him, stroking his saliva slickened cock with one hand while I massaged his balls with the other.

"Oh God, Brian," he gasped. I paused in what I was doing to look up at him. He was so beautiful, stretched out on the piano. This was a vast improvement over the backroom, being able to watch his unrestrained reactions and have him all to myself, with no prying eyes. His arms were stretched out above his head and the silvery bands on his bracers gleamed against the ebony of the piano's shining finish, his hair fanned out around his head, soft against the hard surface. I moved back down to thrust my tongue deep in him as I increased the pressure of my strokes on his cock. He shot his cum across his chest and the piano. I crawled up on the piano to lick from his chest as he laid there, his eyes closed.

"You can't be tired out on me already," I leaned down to kiss him. "Aren't you the man who was going to fuck half of Babylon's backroom?"

"Not tired," he insisted, peeking out from under his long lashes, and smiling widely. "Just savoring the feelings. Waiting for round two. I'm afraid if I do anything, I'll wake up and find out this is just a dream." In truth, he had already regained his breath; nothing like an athletic partner.

I slid back down from the piano and got a condom from my jeans to hand to him to put on me. "No dream. And round two starts right now, if you're ready." I laughed as he urgently ripped the packet with his teeth. "Such a rush for a nouveau bottom," I teased. "Does that mean I'm not getting flipped off this piano?" The truth was, I wanted to pound into his ass right that second, but I was trying to maintain some measure of control. I loved the feeling of his strong legs wrapped loosely around my waist. He looked so fuckable and wanton, lying there stretched out in front of me. The green eyes were soft now, and the sculptured lips swollen from being kissed. He licked those lips now as he leaned forward and slowly rolled the condom onto my swollen cock. He held me close before lying back down.

"I've been wanting you so much this past week, wanting to feel you deep inside me again, moving together, you've no idea how much, Brian" he whispered, his voice husky, throbbing, going directly to my groin, making me harder than I already was. I put my hands behind his head and kissed him, then gently laid him back down before sliding down to stand next to the piano. I quickly readied him with some lube, then moved his legs to my shoulders, positioned myself at his hole and pushed. He grabbed at my shoulder with his good arm to try pulling himself closer, despite the obvious pain my entry was causing him. I caught at his hand.

"Let me control things, tough guy," I whispered, "I think I know what I'm doing, be patient." He sighed and relaxed. I think he was still afraid I was going to shy away again. No way tonight, baby, I thought with a smile, careful not to say the "forbidden" word out loud. Fuck, he was tight; I had to take it slow to start, remembering this was only the second time he'd bottomed. I had every intention of fucking him as hard as he wanted. The man who came in and took Babylon by storm tonight was recovered enough from his accident for my purposes but there was no need to hurt him by rushing things. We had all night as far as I was concerned. God, it seemed like it had been so long since our first night together.

"Okay?" I asked as I felt his muscles releasing a bit. He nodded and I began pushing deeper, with his powerful torso moving his ass forward and up in rhythm with me. Damn, he felt so fucking great, I couldn't remember the last time it felt this good. I moved his legs down to my waist and where I felt his muscular thighs gripping my ass and pressing me even deeper. I could hear him calling out to me as I angled to hit his prostate over and over; it was in some other language that sounded vaguely familiar but I wasn't sure what it was. I was pretty mindless myself by this point. I swore I even heard music. Our thrusting bodies were reflected in the piano's finish and in the mirrors placed on the walls around us. The sight was such a fucking turn-on. At one point, I pulled him up to kiss, a hard, tongue thrusting kiss that he met as passionately and fiercely as I was giving it. I wasn't sure who was ravishing whom anymore.

Finally, I could feel his muscles tightening around my cock, and I saw his cum shooting between our chests, which triggered my own orgasm. As I rolled off of him, I realized that his left hand had indeed been trailing over the piano keys at one point, playing something as we fucked. Seeing where I was looking, he grinned up at me sheepishly as I looked at him accusingly.

"Fucking shit, you were playing the fucking piano while I was fucking you! Now I know you're nuts! I was sure I was imagining the sound of music coming from somewhere. What the hell were you playing?" I asked, rolling my eyes at him as I removed the condom. I looked around for somewhere to toss it and for something to clean us both up. The sight of a nude Danny stretching out on the piano top distracted me. I stopped midway in my path over towards the bar and stood looking at him. It occurred to me that Justin would love to paint him like that. I quickly went back to the task of cleaning up. He must have given my question some thought as he finally answered me.

"No fucking idea, it was subconscious, I reached my arm out and there were the keys so I just started moving my hand over them, sorry," he confessed, sheepishly. "I was feeling very Irish, being fucked by such a good Irish lad, so it was Celtic sounding, don't you think? If it sells, I really should give you part of the royalties," he offered. He stretched out his long legs above his head in a sort of aerial split; I swear he never stops exercising. It looks good though so it's not like I'm complaining. He continued, "My father would be so happy with us getting together, well, the you being Irish part, less so about the lad part," Danny gave me his quick, dimpled grin. "He never was happy about my partiality for men or French women. I think I was speaking Gaeltacht, too"

"Your poor dad, all those years of congratulating himself that the girls were safe from me. And as to the language, I guess that makes sense, you always did get a bit of an Irish accent when excited, I should have expected when you got really excited you would start yelling out in old Irish." He laughed. One of his best qualities was his sense of humor about himself. Even when he did get a little too serious about himself, like with his "list" of forbidden, dick wilting words, he got over it.

I dampened a cloth at the bar and came back over to wash the cum from him. I continued, "I thought it sounded familiar but I don't know it to speak myself, only my grandparents ever used it."

He took the cloth from me and returned the favor, gently getting the spots I missed, before answering, in a fake, Irish accent, the type a TV actor might use:

"Aye, I learned it from me father ages ago, but I also studied it proper in college, ye know, so I could speak it with the fancy Irish people. But wouldn't ye know, when I went over to County Galway, and County Kerry, where me parents and their parents were from, I found out there weren't any fancy Irish people!"

He grinned at me again, then, like the good anal-compulsive musician he was, he cleaned off the top of the piano, too.

"I have people who do that, you know." I told him, pulling him close for another kiss.

"You have cum cleaners?" He interrupted the kiss to look at me, impressed. I smacked him lightly on the ass.

"Stay focused on the task at hand. I never knew anyone to become so distracted when I kiss them, or to play piano when I fuck them for that matter. But, as a matter of fact, yes. That is a job description here at Babylon. I used to hate it in the old days, all the old, dried cum on the floor. Worse though, was the sticky, not quite dried up, cum on the floor. It was a mess to get off your shoes. You know how particular I am about my shoes." He laughed at me.

"I wasn't distracted when you were fucking me," he protested, "I was inspired! I was probably composing a masterpiece, but the world will never know because I was not so lost to priorities that I got up to write it down, that should please you. I've been known to do that when really distracted by an idea for some music or an arrangement. Really pisses off a trick. And as to being particular about the shoes, I can understand perfectly. But, the ‘cum cleaners' might miss the top of the piano, not expecting it, you know, and I would hate to see this fine instrument's finish get marred. I'm particular about instruments the way you are about shoes. Plus, I now feel sentimental about this piano; he's ended my dry spell."

"So the piano is a male, now?" I stood there with my arms around this crazy man and listened, with my left eyebrow permanently up by this point. Which meant it matched another body part of mine when Danny was around.

"Of course he is! I would have trouble getting all that fond of a female piano now, wouldn't I?" Danny looked back at me, all wide-eyed. I shook my head at him, grinning. I realized that I'd spent more time grinning in the past couple of weeks than I had in ages, and between Danny's antics, and the soccer, I've felt younger than I had since college. Now that he was feeling up to sex again, life was good, life was really good.

"Do you feel sufficiently sated, for the moment, to go back down and meet some more of my friends, or will you be hanging out in the back room after all?" As I spoke, he nuzzled my chest, almost making me change my mind about rejoining the others.

"I like the sounds of that ‘for the moment.' I think this will tide me over for a bit. After a little more .... kissing." With that he fell to his knees before me and continued his kisses lower down. I threaded my hands in his long hair as he deep throated my cock, his long, slender hands caressing my balls. His talented tongue, combined with the suction he was able to maintain deep in his throat felt incredible; he had me cumming again in a surprisingly short time, given the force of the orgasm I'd already had.

Afterward, he got to his feet and wrapped his arms around my waist, looking up at me, face serious. "You were right, Bri, I never was fond of back rooms. For all of my show off tendencies, I get enough of audiences at work; I don't like them for private times. I can't shake the feeling that I have to ‘perform.' Thank you for this." He waved generally at the room, with its soft lighting and, of course, the piano. I was rewarded with a deep, searching kiss that shook my resolve to go back downstairs at all. Still, Mikey was probably going nuts by now, wondering where we were.

I tried to regain my composure. Pulling back, I smirked at him again. "Really? A performance? That could prove interesting."

"You can have a private performance any time you want," he assured me. "Okay, let's go downstairs, I need some water anyway, all that gasping got me thirsty." He winked at me. He must still be on pain medicines and not drinking his usual beer, I realized. I resolved to get him home and in bed early, which shouldn't be too hard, given the right motivation.

We dressed quickly and went back downstairs and through the backroom quickly to join the boys at the bar near the catwalk. We managed to look relatively respectable. I finger combed Danny's hair for him, and fortunately, the disheveled look works for him, as it still looked pretty wild due to his curls. Emmett greeted us with a big smile. Danny was thrilled to see the Professor.

"Ben! I didn't see you here before! How have you been?" Danny gave Ben a one-armed hug and a kiss as he walked up. Mikey didn't look happy at that. I quickly introduced them, pulling Danny back to my side possessively.

"Danny, this is my best friend and Ben's husband, Michael Novotny-Bruckner…"

"The Michael Novotny, who owns a comic book store, and is the creator of ‘Rage,' and the father of a beautiful little girl and a teen-age son, and is this simply incredible man? I am so thrilled to finally meet you, I've heard so much about you!" Danny, in full flame mode, starting to extend his hand in the cast, but then looked at Mikey sheepishly. "I'm in this stupid cast, would it seem forward if I just gave you a hug, too? I feel like I know you so well, after hearing so much about you, not only from Ben, but ever since I was boy of thirteen, Brian would tell me about you when I visited my brother and him at college. I used to be so jealous of you."

Mikey was grinning happily by about halfway through this over the top accolade, which would have had anyone else gagging by this point. But he just said, "sure." The two of them hugged, as he asked, looking for still more, "why were you jealous of me?"

"Because I had such an unrequited crush on Brian and you got to be grow up with him. I always wished I had a best friend like Brian," Danny added obligingly, laughing.

The others, who knew of Mikey's long time crush on me, joined in on the laugh, as my best friend looked slightly self-conscious. Ben hugged him close and they shared a smile. Danny continued with damage control, as though completely unaware, although knowing him as I did, I'm sure he picked up on the nuances. "You had Brian as a best friend, which to me seemed like the best of all possible worlds at thirteen! And you had no big brothers, which to someone like me with a surplus of them seemed like heaven. Don't get me wrong, I love them all dearly, but they can be a bit much, watching my every move growing up. Plus, Brian said you had a mom who let you read comic books; talk about the best of all possible worlds! I love my mama dearly, but for me at thirteen, it was Church six days a week, and no comic books. I had to sneak Captain Astro into my room, and when you share a room with a million brothers, it isn't easy to sneak a book about a gay superhero, trust me."

Did Danny know how to charm a person or what? Poor Justin still had problems getting along with Mikey, after more than five years, and a thriving creative partnership with the man; yet within seconds, Danny had won over my childhood buddy, who proceeded to corner him for a discussion of favorite Captain Astro plot lines. I was pretty sure Danny was faking much of his part of the discussion, but he was doing it so well, interjecting a question back at Mikey every time he didn't know something, that Mikey was completely snowed. I didn't remember Danny ever reading comic books; when would he have had time between soccer, dance, karate, church, music and all the other activities he was involved in as a kid? I handed Danny a water and he accepted it gratefully, never diverting his attention from Mikey's monologue.

"So," Emmett had sidled up next to me. "Did everything go well after you two settled the little dispute with Brandon?" He sipped at one of those little umbrella drinks of his and looked at me expectantly.

"Who?" I looked at him innocently. Ted laughed into his beer. I nodded to Blake, who had appeared during my interlude with Danny. Emmett rolled his eyes.

"Brandon. Blond guy, the one you had a bet with about who was the true King of Liberty Avenue, the one Danny dangled by his collar for about ten minutes earlier? Stop me when something rings a bell. These senior moments getting to be a problem, Brian?"

"Oh, that Brandon. I wasn't sure what his name was, knew it was a B word, Bronson, Binson, Benson. You know me with names, Em. Yeah, we're good, feeling fit as a fiddle. But then again, I don't really care for fiddles, never did. How about we say grand as a piano; are you feeling grand as a piano, Danny?" I laughed as I saw his tanned cheeks turn slightly rosy. Ted started to choke on his beer. I think he was the only one in the gang who knew about the furnishings in the new VIP room, as it had not been officially christened yet. Well, it was now, I thought with my tongue firmly pressed in my cheek.

"Yeah, I would say I'm feeling pretty grand, Brian, although I could be using some more grand feelings later, I think." My man made a quick recovery from his embarrassment and moved behind me, curling his good arm around my waist to pull me back against him so I could feel his hard cock. His hand was rather close to my own crotch, which was stirring.

"You ready for some more dance lessons? I understand that there is a some sort of feeling around here that you're a hopeless case, and I refuse to believe that anyone as good with his body as you are can be a bad dancer," he leaned over my shoulder and nuzzled my ear as he spoke, once again using his deeper register, making my jeans definitely a tighter fit in front.

"It's true," Mikey announced, oblivious as usual, "even Justin couldn't teach him, and he was a great dancer. Everyone will tell you they looked great out there together, but basically all they were doing was rubbing against each other while music played. It looked hot all right, but no one would say it was dancing." Mikey laughed to himself while everyone else looked at his drink. Danny looked around at the suddenly awkward group and smiled, showing his model perfect teeth.

"Well, I'm sure you're right, Michael, but you might be amazed at what a difference a new teacher can make. What do you say, Brian, are you willing to give it another try. Worst comes to worst, you can rub your body up against mine in time to the music. How bad could that be?" He gave me a seductive look, and then slowly shrugged his shirt off, handing it to Emmett, who winked at him. The muscles rippled across his chest and back as he turned and strolled over to the DJ to request a song.

I put my drink down and pulled my shirt off as well. May as well get as much skin to skin contact as possible to help my dancing efforts. Emmett reached out with a smile to take my shirt as well. I grinned and tossed it to him.

"I think I am going to learn to dance, boys. Wish me luck." I walked out to meet my teacher as the strains of the Cher song reached my ears.

What am I supposed to do?

Sit around and wait for you?

Well I can't do that

And there's no turning back

I need time to move on

I need love to feel strong

'Cause I've got time to think it through

And maybe I'm too good for you

Do you believe in love after love.....

************************************************************************

Setting: The Liberty Diner: POV/ Ben

It was great to see Brian looking so happy again. He had been closed off for months, ever since Justin had left. I had never completely accepted the account of the wedding cancellation being a mutual decision, but I was not one to interject myself into my friends' private lives. I leave that to the Novotny side of the family. Besides, Brian and I were never that close. I always felt much closer to Justin, despite having known Brian far longer. In many ways, Brian was a self absorbed, hedonistic jerk. And as Mel would say, those are his good qualities. But in this situation, I felt for him because I suspected that he had sincerely tried to change himself to meet Justin's needs and Justin had rejected him.

The fact was, Brian was a complex man, and too often his old friends seemed to want him to stay locked in the old familiar patterns. I regretted that Michael fell into this trap. He claimed to want Brian to change, to grow up, but at the same time, he felt threatened by every sign of Brian doing exactly that. I was never more shocked than when he came home and told me he had convinced Brian to reopen Babylon. I personally agreed with Brian's initial impulse, to sell the place where Michael had almost died, where several of our friends had died. How could we party there again? Yet, as I always did, as Brian usually did, we caved in to Michael's desire to cling to a part of his youth, especially when that desire was made manifest in Michael's usual way. Rocks give way to water; strong men give in to whining when it is incessant enough.

Danny would be good for Brian. He's a charming, intelligent, talented man, with so much more to him than just his handsome face and hard body, although of course, since this was Brian, those attributes were essential. I'd talked with Justin before he left, and while he had vague plans of returning "someday," it had been clear to me that his primary focus right now was on his career. Which was as it should be for a man his age. Brian understood this and did not begrudge it. Debbie and Michael didn't understand it, however, and kept talking as though "Sunshine" would be back any week now, and resume his life in Pittsburgh with Brian. They didn't seem to understand how painful this attitude was for Brian, who was trying to move on with his life. Gentle hints just didn't get through to them. Maybe a tall, dark, handsome musician in Brian's life would, I thought, as we took our seats in the largest booth the diner had to offer, and I noticed that Debbie was working the late shift.

"Hey, guys, how's it hanging?" She came over with her pad and pencil ready. I gave her a kiss after Michael accepted his. She greeted each of the boys in turn, and then caught sight of Danny, who was lying back against Emmett. Brian had stopped off in the men's room on the way in.

"My oh my, what did you go and catch for yourself out at Babylon, Emmett? Looks like a big one," she laughed loudly as she eyed his crotch suggestively.

I just shook my head as Michael said, "Ma!" I don't know why he bothers; I think it only encourages her. She winked at me, as if to prove my point. Danny smiled sweetly and waited to be introduced. Somehow, in all the years of his involvement with PFLAG, he and Debbie had always missed meeting, he told me earlier. He had even sung a solo at Vic's funeral, but he'd sung it in the choir loft at the back of the church and then rushed out without seeing anyone because he had to make an evening performance in Bucks County of Joseph. Danny had met Vic several times at Liberty House, which of course is now the Vic Grassi House. He made a special effort to be present for Vic's funeral because the two men had become friends volunteering at the hospice; Danny took Vic's death hard. He didn't go out of his way to greet Debbie at the funeral, however, because he knew from Vic of their estrangement at the time of Vic's death. He told me later that he couldn't understand how any sister could treat her brother that way.

"Debbie, this is Danny O'Keefe, you must have heard of him, although you've never met face to face," I told her. Danny stood up to shake hands and she grabbed him, shrieking.

"Oh my fucking God, Danny, I can't believe it, you're little Danny! I've been wanting to meet Rose's ‘angel boy' for ages now. I can't believe you're old enough for Babylon with these guys! Let me give you a hug, you darling! I gotta thank you for singing so beautifully for Vic, and for all that you've done for the Vic Grassi House and PFLAG, you know, you really are an angel!" Debbie was squeezing the breath out of him with one of her bear hugs.

"Broken arm," he gasped. "Help, Em, Ben." Brian came up as we were pulling gently on her, trying to get her to release him. She'd trapped both of his arms in her hug. In her usual way, she was paying no attention to what we were saying to her as she rambled on, praising his singing and volunteer work.

"Deb, let go, he's in a cast!" Brian snapped, breaking her spell and pulling her arms open.

"What? Well, why the fuck didn't one of these assholes tell me?" she demanded. Danny laughed, as he rubbed his arm, leaning back against Brian. "I told you the bracer would come in handy, Em. Thanks, Bri," he added, turning to kiss him deeply. Brian pulled him close against him, returning the kiss with interest. Debbie's mouth fell open.

"What the fuck? What's going on here? I thought he was with Emmett?" she asked, looking from Danny to Brian to Emmett. Uh oh, I thought. Debbie's eyes narrowed as she took in Danny's full appearance, the wild, long black hair, the low cut, tight jeans, the open silk shirt that revealed the muscled torso, and the flashy bracers. If this were one of Michael's comics, the thought bubble over her head would read, "that Danny O'Keefe, he's no angel."

"Define ‘with.'" Brian demanded with his trademark smirk, the one that usually gets him a smack in the head from my mother-in-law, as he went sliding into the booth next to Emmett, and pulling Danny up against him. Predictably, Debbie smacked him with her pad.

"Don't get smart with me, ‘married man.' What's going on here is what I want to know. And by the way, I don't allow long loose hair like that in my diner, so if you want to get served any food do something about it. I don't want to be blamed for any hair in people's food, you understand?" Debbie's voice was cold as she addressed Danny. He looked up at her, surprised, quickly masking the hurt that appeared in his eyes.

"Sure, I can understand that. I'll fix it. Em, would you give me a hand?"

"Sure, sweetie, no problem." Emmett looked up at Debbie, surprised at her turnabout.

"And do something about that shirt, too. The sign says ‘no shirt, no service' and the way you're wearing that, you may as well have no shirt on," she called after him as he walked towards the men's room. He stopped in his tracks and looked pointedly at several biker types near where he stood; their upper bodies clad in skimpy leather vests and nothing else, but he said nothing. There was no need; he made his point. Em quickly clambered over Brian to follow him. Brian looked up at Debbie, who was flushed red. They held each other's gaze for a few moments, while the rest of us stayed silent.

"Well, you want to explain that before he comes back?" Brian finally asked, breaking the standoff.

"I was just going to ask you the same question," she fired back "Does the name Sunshine ring a bell? A trick is one thing, Brian, no one expects you to be celi, cela, to go without sex, but that kid is no trick. What the fuck is going on with you? You're practically married to little Sunshine and there he is, working his little bubble butt off up in New York on his lonesome, and here you are with Mr. Hottie there, with his silver and black arm bands and his long hair and his bulging black pants." Debbie was crying at this point, her mascara running down her cheeks. I handed her a tissue and she blew her nose. I gave her another one for her eyes.

"Come ‘mere," Brian sighed, pulling her down into the seat next to him. He put his arm around her as the rest of us busied ourselves looking at the large diner menus that we'd memorized years ago.

"One, I am not a married man. Two, Sunshine's not lonely in New York. He's working hard, but trust me, Deb, he's playing hard, too, which is a good thing. It's exactly what a boy his age should be doing. I'm not doing anything unfair to Justin, nothing that's not agreed upon between the two of us. Three, I want you to be nice to Danny, for my sake, at least until you feel you can do it for his own sake. He's a really nice person, and I like him a lot, Debbie. It's going to cause problems between you and me if you continue to treat him the way you just did. You follow me?" She looked at him, shocked.

"The rest of you are okay with this?" She looked around the table.

"Not that it's any of my business who Brian dates, but Danny is my friend and I hope you will be civil to him for my sake as well as his, Debbie," I put in my two cents worth in hopes of reconciling Debbie to the inevitable..

"I like him, too, Ma, give him a chance," Michael added.

Ted and Blake simply nodded, avoiding Brian's eye, since they knew, even if Debbie didn't, that it clearly wasn't their business what he did with his social life. Just then, Emmett and Danny came back. His hair was now arranged in a single braid down his back. From the front, it appeared that he had very short hair. His green shirt was gone and he was wearing a long sleeved, baggy black sweater. It looked reasonably attractive on him, not as sexy as his shirt, quite frankly, but it would be difficult for him to look bad in anything. We all gazed at his transformed appearance. He looked like a conservatively dressed student, but for the tight jeans, but even there, the sweater came down long enough to cover most of his crotch and ass. Brian laughed at his transformation.

"Uh, Danny," Blake asked, "where did you get the sweater?"

Emmett had a pained expression on his face. "Can you believe it? We met this guy in the restroom who was leaving the diner and Danny offered to trade his silk D&G shirt for the guy's Gap sweater! The guy could barely squeeze himself into the armholes, and there was no way he could ever button it! I hope you're satisfied, Deb!" Shooting her a disgusted look, Emmett climbed over the back of the booth to get back to his seat.

"I think you look very nice, Danny," I told him, hiding a smile, as Debbie remained silent. Brian just stared at him as Danny sat down quietly next to him. The others also complimented him, telling him the braid looked great, and saying how the sweater would come in handy on the ride home, since it was getting chilly out.

"He won't need the sweater to stay warm, since he's coming home with me, and Ben, you just like that ridiculous sweater since it's something you'd wear. But Danny, while you look hot in whatever you wear, that fucking thing is coming off and going in the trash the second you finish eating, you understand?"

"Actually, I was sitting here giving serious thought to whether I'm hungry enough to be seen in public in this sweater," Danny said quietly, tipping his head to the side. "It's a very close call. I think it smells. Do you think it smells, Bri?"

Debbie sighed. "Fine, take the damn thing off, but I didn't say you had to get rid of your good shirt, you know, you could've just buttoned it up. Damn queers, you always have to over-react," she groused. "Just be glad I don't make you wear one of my spare t-shirts from the storeroom." Danny smiled happily as Brian quickly helped him out of the huge sweater and made an overhand toss into the nearest garbage can.

We all shuddered at the thought of Danny in one of Deb's gay pride T's. As it was, I didn't think any of us would be able to eat with Danny's bare torso at the table, either. Seeing Michael staring, I gave serious consideration to either taking my own shirt off too, or begging him to retrieve the sweater and put it back on. Brian saw me frowning and gave a knowing smile. Sometimes his omniscience can be damned annoying. Danny seemed perfectly unconscious of the stares however, and comfortable eating topless. Debbie came back in a few minutes with drinks and to get orders. She couldn't help staring a little, either, I noticed.

Emmett finally rummaged in his pocketbook and came up with a spare shirt of his own, which he wordlessly handed to Danny. With a grin, he pulled it on, causing a general laugh around the table as he stood and modeled his third garment in less than ten minutes, a pink t-shirt that said, "Don't Hate Me Because I'm Beautiful**I Don't Hate You For Being Ugly." Even Debbie had to laugh at that point.

"Okay, what will you have? And you, dinner at my house, Sunday, no excuses." She pointed her pen at Danny. He gave her his sweetest smile.

"Sorry, can't make it."

"What the fuck? I just said ‘no excuses!' Brian! I invited him to dinner!" She looked at Brian accusingly. He held up a hand and then looked at Danny.

"Why can't you make it to dinner, Danny?" I saw him give Danny a look; there seemed to be a pretty close understanding between the two men already. Danny nodded almost imperceptibly.

"I really appreciate the invitation, Debbie, but you see, I almost always have family dinner with my own mama on Sundays, and due to this little accident I had a couple weeks ago, I've missed the past two Sundays. I was in the hospital the first one, the day of the accident, and I was too sick to stand up the next. If I miss this Sunday, it will be three in a row that I'll have missed. I can't do that to her. You understand, don't you? She really counts on me and I kind of count on it, too. She's not so young anymore, you know. Any other time, I would love to have dinner with you." He looked up at her, eyes wide, voice deep, yet boyishly pleading. I admired his technique; Debbie fell for it, hook, line and sinker, but then she hit him with a curve ball.

"Of course you have to have dinner with your mother! I've heard that Rose isn't doing so well these days, poor dear, all those children! I've enough trouble with one, I don't know how she managed with a dozen! I'll tell you what!" She looked at all of us. "I've tomorrow off. Family dinner will be Saturday this week! Michael, you can close the store early. You're all here, so consider this your invitation! I'll see you all at six. Now, what will you have?" She smiled at us brightly. Ted and Blake looked at each other, no doubt thinking of the plans they already had that they would have to cancel. No one went against Debbie.

"Salad, with grilled chicken, fat free dressing on the side," Danny said, smiling back just as brightly. "And chocolate cake for dessert."

"Glad to hear you eat something decent. But why don't you try the lemon bars? Everyone loves the lemon bars."

"Nope, I'm a chocolate cake person," he said firmly. "But thanks for the suggestion."

Debbie looked at him keenly. "You and I are going to have a rough time, aren't we?"

"You think so? I see this as the beginning of a beautiful friendship," he replied, grinning, leaning back against Brian.

"I'll have the usual, Deb," Brian said, wrapping his arms around Danny's pink clad chest, before bending to kiss him.

"Could've fooled me," she snapped back.

************************************************************************

Setting: A Club in the Village, NYC; POV/Justin

I stood at the bar and watched Juan dance with two of his actor friends. He'd invited me to the going away party they were throwing for him. Tomorrow, Juan was heading to L.A. for the pilot season. He had a contract with one of the leading agents, thanks to Edward's help and connections. I felt sure that with his talent and looks, he was going to go far. Edward and I didn't agree about this, and it was a sign of his affection for me, or his trust in my judgment, that he was willing to push Juan's career, based on my recommendation. I'd seen Juan act, and he was really good. Edward, I'm sorry to say, was a bit quick to write him off as just another Hispanic actor, making his living as a waiter. For that reason, Juan wasn't all that appreciative for Edward's help. He called it crumbs from the rich man's table. Still, he was happy for the crumbs, and determined to make the most of the chance. Smart Juan.

"Good dancer, my twin, huh?" I turned and saw Juan's mirror image looking at me coolly. Juan's brother Miguel, older by mere minutes, looked about ten years older in experience. He was working as a paralegal for a large Manhattan law firm while going to law school at night. Juan said he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. I had the feeling he didn't approve of me for some reason. We'd met only a couple of times, when Juan and I'd gotten together at the apartment in Soho that the brothers shared, and each time I'd overheard the two of them have quick, sharp exchanges in Spanish. Tonight, he'd walked away quickly when he saw me enter the club with Juan. I was reminded of Mikey's attitude with my relationship with Brian and figured the best thing to do was just ignore it. He probably just didn't like sharing his twin. Maybe he was finally offering an olive branch. Better late than never, the last night Juan would be in the City, which was probably the last time I would ever see Miguel, if not the last time I would ever see Juan. Oh well, it wouldn't hurt to be friendly.

"Yeah, he really is. I guess he has to be, in his line of work." I took a sip of beer and waited. Miguel seemed to have somewhere that he wanted to go with this.

"Yeah, he's good, after years of lessons, but he's no Dark Angel. But I guess you know that, huh?" Miguel looked at me intensely. He drank deeply from his own glass, all the while keeping his dark eyes on me. I smiled at him brightly. Where the hell was this going? Still, maybe this was my chance to learn more about this mysterious Dark Angel.

"I'm beginning to wonder if this Dark Angel actually exists or is a figment of everyone's imagination. I understood he was the dream lover, now you tell me he's the dream dancer, too? I hope he's not a dream artist, or I'm in trouble." I tried to keep my tone light but there was an edge to my voice. I was getting sick of everyone warning me about this Dark Angel obsession but no one coming right out and saying who the fuck he was. Even George, Edward's butler/bodyguard, who has been with him forever, tried to give me oblique warnings about the whole "angel" thing but wouldn't answer any direct questions. Edward was good to everyone, as far as I could tell; he'd been great to me, but as soon as his back was turned, everyone was quick to tear him down and act like he was some sort of maniac. As far as I could tell, it was like with Brian, people are just jealous of successful people. Unless I see or hear something concrete, they can go fuck themselves.

Miguel grinned. It was amazing how much younger it made him look.

"So you do have claws, pato, I always thought you were just a tame little pussy." I was ready to tell him where he could go get himself fucked, when he put down his glass and grabbed my beer from my hand so he could set that down as well.

"Come on, Sunshine, dance with me, I need a good partner to help me out there. I'm the twin with two left feet and you're just the pato to help me. I saw you out there before, and you'll forgive me for Juan's sake, I know ... Besides, he's counting on me to babysit you in his absence and he's counting on you to keep me from working myself to death, so we have to make nice even if it kills us." With that, he flashed me a beautiful smile that put mine to shame, much like his brother's did, and pulled me onto the dance floor. Miguel knew how to keep me completely off guard. I had no clue whether he hated me, liked me, or what. One thing was clear, his dancing needed no help as his supple body moved against mine. Another thing was obvious, both Martinez brothers were playing for the same team. I could feel his hard cock pressed against me within seconds. So I was the pato? Right. Maricon, meet pato. Faggot, meet queer.

I was taken aback by Miguel's comments about "baby-sitting" me, but upon reflection, that was so like Juan, who liked to take care of all of his friends. He had been discussing with me for the past two weeks his arrangements for various friends, which one needed rides to class, who had a baby on the way and thus a shower that needed planning, etc; I should have realized Miguel and I wouldn't be left out of his planning. I knew he worried about his overly serious, workaholic brother. He once laughingly told me, after I had shared with him some of my history with Brian, that he thought I would be able to handle "Migs" as he called him, with no problem, after handling someone like Brian. He looked over now and smiled to see us together. However, within a short time, he danced his way over and stole me away from his smooth moving twin.

"I wanted you two to get along, but not that well, I want you for me tonight," he whispered in my ear as he held me close. "How about after a few more drinks and dances, and a few more silly toasts, you and I cut out of here and go get some pizza to take back to my place and spend one last night together, hmm?"

"Sounds really good, if I get to pick the pizza place, none of that low fat, fruit topping crap pizza," I said, rubbing my crotch against his suggestively.

"Oo, you will go to any lengths to get your way when it comes to pizza, Taylor! Fine, we get meat laden, extra cheese, anything as long as you keep doing that. I admit I'm easy," Juan moaned, as I pulled him out of the club. Miguel watched us go, his dark eyes enigmatic.

************************************************************************

Setting: A small apartment in Soho; POV/Juan

Eventually, we headed back to the place I shared with Migs. I wanted some time alone with Justin to talk with him about Simon so Migs had already agreed to find another place to go. From the looks of things when we left, he was going to have his pick of the males and females in the place that night. My twin liked to switch hit, said it improved his marketability as a lawyer. I told him he should just admit he was a slut. My flight the next day wasn't until late in the afternoon and he had taken the day off to see me off so I knew I would have plenty of time alone with Miguel before leaving. He knew how important this was to me, to have this time with my friend before leaving. Now if only I still had Justin as my friend when the night was over.

We walked down the New York street together, hands in each other's back pockets.

"Aren't you going to miss this, the way the City is alive all night long? And being able to walk everywhere? In L.A., you have to drive everywhere, it's so spread out," Justin commented, strolling along contentedly, his eyes roving constantly, taking in the sights that I was so used to, having grown up in the City. One of the things I loved about being with him was seeing things through his artist's eyes. As an actor, I tried to see people fresh, but being around Justin had taught me to appreciate everything in my usual environment with that artist's eye. I hoped to take that with me to L.A.

"I'm sure I'll miss lots of things when I'm away, but it's exciting to go, try new things, get to be a big star, fuck bigger stars, develop a terrible cocaine habit, become really rich, lose it all, end up doing guest spots on VH1 and Behind the Scenes, or even better, one of those reality shows for washed up almost celebrities, like the one for fat ones who are supposed to lose weight but never do, oh my god, Justin, don't let me leave!"

I stopped dead in the middle of the street and dramatically clutched at him, pulling him to my chest. He giggled, and hugged me tightly, then pushed me away, saying, "I can't wait to see you rooming with M.C Hammer in ‘I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here!' I'll tell everyone I know, I knew him before he was a big star who crashed and burned!"

"Great friend you are, getting free drinks out of my tragedy," I laughed, continuing on down the street, pulling him with me, still giggling. He had quite a bit to drink at the club. He was so happy to be off his leash for the night, I think he was high just on the freedom. Old Simon let him out of his sight less and less these days; that was one of the things I was determined to bring up, even if he didn't want to hear it. That's what friends did in my book. Miguel could say I was nuts; he did say I was nuts, but I felt I had to do something to open Justin's eyes to the kind of man Simon was. He wasn't the generous hearted, "Patron of the Arts" Justin believed him to be.

"Jus, d'you ever wonder why Simon calls you his "Bright Angel?" Back at the apartment, snuggling in my bed, I tried to open the conversation up. I kissed his hair and waited for his answer. He shrugged.

I realized that I had to open this topic up gently. I knew Migs tried to talk about it, but there was no way Jus would talk to him about it; hell, not the way he had treated Justin every other time they had met before. Besides, Justin was nothing if not loyal, to his lovers, his friends, hell, even to waiters he liked; that was really how I moved from one of those categories to another. Justin's loyalty. And while my lover status wasn't on the level of a Brian Kinney in the Justin Taylor pantheon of lovers past and present, I sure hoped I was a better value than the scum he was giving his loyalty and ass to up in Times Square these days. I knew what Edward Simon thought of me. Both of my NYU degrees in Fine Arts were the equivalent of community college degree in basket weaving to him. After all, I was a "spic" and he'd already had a "Brown Angel" or "Tan Angel" or whatever the fuck angel he'd called his Hispanic one of his collection in his sick little obsession with the "one that got away." Our gay little acting world's own Harry Potter, the "boy who lived," or more appropriately, kept his ass closed, against the wiles of the "one who shall not be named without getting your own ass kicked to the ground." I held Justin closer and felt his return hug.

"It's just his pet name, I guess. It's not the first time I've been called an angel, it's my coloring, I guess. At Babylon, the club back home, I even had an angel go-go dancer outfit complete with angel wings and tiny little white go go shorts. You'd have loved them, everyone else did, except Brian wasn't crazy about them, at least not with everyone else seeing me in them." He giggled. We'd been smoking some shit I got from Miguel, I should've remembered Justin had no tolerance for pot at all. I took the joint from him and carefully extinguished it. I would finish it later myself. I wanted him to be able to remember this conversation after I left tomorrow.

"I'm sure, you're such an angel boy that lots of people call you their angel. But that isn't why Edward calls you ‘Angel,' man. You aren't his first angel. Hell, you aren't even his fourth angel. The guy's had more Angels than fucking Charlie, man. Do you get where I'm coming from, Jus? Edward is..."

"Edward is Charlie from Charlie's Angels? Fuck! I thought that guy had this really cool voice, which Edward really doesn't have, and I always thought he wanted to fuck the Angels, who were girls. I didn't know he was really a rich gay guy. Shows I should have been paying more attention to those old TV shows. Weed makes you stupid, Juan!"

Justin giggled again. I shook my head and got up to see what kind of food we had. Carbs might help sober him. He could eat like a horse though, and I didn't think Migs would like it if I headed off for L.A. and left him with a cleaned out refrigerator.

Cheesecake, score! Mom must have sent it over and no way was my brother eating something that fattening. I came back to the bed and tried again to reason with my giggling little buddy after feeding him cheesecake, and, incidentally, licking the droppings off his chest and cock.

Justin smiled at me wickedly, and took the remaining piece of cheesecake into his hand.

"Do you want any more, Juan?" He dangled the cake over me as he stood up in the bed, planting one foot on either side of my hips. I looked up at him with interest.

"Depends on what you want to do with it, Jus, I could be talked into sacrificing it to you, I suppose, if you're really hungry," I said with a smile as he started to smash the cake between his hands.

"I feel like doing some finger painting, and you get to be the canvas, but then I promise to clean up all my finger paints really, really well, no matter what kinds of nooks or cracks they get into, okay?" he purred, kneeling between my legs, pushing them further apart so he could have full access to all the nooks and cracks.

"Sounds good," I agreed, my voice breaking slightly in excitement.

It was a while before we got back to the subject of Edward. I may be a good friend but I'm not fucking altruistic. Besides, it wasn't often Justin got to be with anyone younger than the dinosaur. Hell, this does count as altruistic. As if, with the rimming and blow jobs this boy can give...thank you Mr. Kinney, wherever and whoever you're doing tonight. You raised your boy up right, I thought as I came for the third time that night.

We were pretty much sated and back to our former positions, me sitting up and Justin lying back in my lap, when I tried raising the topic again.

"Justin, about Edward...."

"What the fuck is it with you and Edward, Juan? I didn't even think you liked him much. Are you sorry to be leaving or something?" Justin looked at me speculatively. At least the cake and sex seemed to have sharpened him up a bit. Great, now he thinks I'm pining after his sugar daddy. He's welcome to him. That thousand in blood money was enough for me. Miguel cleared me up on a bit of history after he found out where I got it. I learned some more since then on my own, and I sure as fuck couldn't clear it with my conscience to go to L.A. without sharing what I learned with Justin, even if it ended our friendship. I was pretty sure this "great opportunity" was Edward's way of getting me out of town because he knew of Justin's little outings to my place; and it worried me that besides me, Jus had made no other friends close to his own age in the City. Migs promised to keep an eye on him, but there was little he could do, other than get word to that Brian Kinney if trouble hit.

Trouble was, I didn't think some Pittsburgh advertising guy was a match for Simon. Look how easily Simon got him to stop sniffing around once he zeroed in on Jus as his new "Angel." I forced a smile and pulled Justin into another hug. I was going to miss the little pato. I took a deep breath.

"Jus, I don't like your Edward, and believe me, when I get out of here, I'm not looking back. And before you say anything about being grateful to Edward for this chance, let me tell you, I would be grateful, I would be down on my hands and knees grateful, if I thought for one second your Mr. Simon were helping me for any reason other than that it was because he wants me as far away from you as possible."

Justin started to protest but I put my hand over his mouth.

"No, you hear me out. Before we get to discussing it, tell me how many friends you were able to make in New York since getting here, then tell me whether you've been able to stay in touch with the few you made when you first got here, the ones you made before Edward came into your life...no, don't bother to answer, I know the answer is none, because I know that if it weren't for me taking pity on the poor lonely little kid from the sticks, you'd still be stuck in that subway turnstile."

I punched him to let him know I was kidding, but still he blushed to remember how he and I had met; me, the tall Hispanic waiter slash actor, recognizing the artist from the gallery where I worked sometimes, who somehow got himself wedged while trying to get a particularly large piece of canvas through the subway. I lifted it over easily and a friendship was born.

"I've made it my business to learn something about the man I worked for, and who controls so much of your life. I know from your face you don't like my choice of words, and I could try to claim language difficulties here to get out of it, but as much as English is my second language, I have a fucking Masters in Fine Arts in addition to my undergraduate degree, so contrary to what your boyfriend who treats me like a wetback thinks, I do have an education." Justin started to apologize for like the fiftieth time for the asshole's attitude, and I covered his mouth again. "It's okay, Justin, I've been here in this country since I was six, almost twenty years now, and I probably know the Constitution better than him because I had to prove I knew it in order to become a Citizen. Those of you who were born here can be as ignorant as you want," I grinned at him, "but yet again, that isn't why I don't trust Edward. He is a racist, he tries to separate you from your friends, but there is more to it, Justin, good reasons though those are. He has an ugly streak, and an ugly history, and I don't want to see you hurt by that ugliness."

By this point, Justin had a closed, set look to his face. I know he is sensitive about his own lack of a degree, so mentioning my own degrees was probably a tactical error; I'm probably more sensitive about Edward's slurs and their mutual country club background than I acknowledge to myself. Justin giving me the money that morning hurt; being unable to afford to turn it down despite all my hard work hurt more. Serving drinks and spreading my ass cheeks made me more money that night than a month of declaiming Shakespeare ever did. And I'm sure Simon was predicting a future in porn for me. Me, the pride of three generations of my family. May he rot in hell. I just didn't want him to take my friend to hell with him. Time for Juan's fables. Sadly for Justin, they were true.

"Okay, settle down and listen, I'm going to tell you a story."

"I don't think I need to hear any more, maybe I should just say good bye and good luck now, and head home." Justin's voice was cold. I used all my training to cajole him, putting just the right amount of emotion in my voice, but not too much. I was top of my class in college drama classes, after all, this was a piece of cake. Again, the fact that I had truth on my side helped a lot; that and that I cared for Justin and hated Edward Simon.

"Don't I matter at all to you, Jus? At least enough to give me a hearing on this? If I'm lying, what does it matter, you'll never have to see me again, but if I love you enough to risk our friendship on this, it must be pretty important to me, and it should be worth an hour more of your time. Believe me, I've got better ways of spending my last night in New York than destroying friendships." I looked hurt and offended and Justin looked guilty. We hugged and laughed at each other for queening out and cuddled back down together. And I told him the story as I had managed to piece it together from my brother, some of the older actors and dancers around Broadway, and of course, the old queens, who know everything that happens in our world.

It all started almost ten years ago, when a hot shot young kid showed up one summer, on the tails of his model sister, who had herself taken the fashion scene by storm several years earlier. The kid was in a special program the city was running for high school graduates, those majoring in the arts in college, and he was a triple threat, being outstanding in dancing, singing and acting. In fact, a dance troupe from France had reportedly been in the kid's home town in the Spring and it was rumored the kid not only had been selected to dance with their prima ballerina, but that he was having an affair with her on the side! He was tall, dark and handsome, and got selected as the lead for not one, but two of the City's Shakespeare in the Park productions. This is the program that gets professional actors trying out and he waltzed right in and stole two plum roles–all on his summer vacation to visit big sis in the city! And as for his singing! It was rumored to be amazing, four octaves, perfect pitch, there wasn't a role he couldn't sing, from Oliver to Tevye!

Too good to be true? Must have been an obnoxious asshole, right? Not according to the people who knew him, and I talked to the old Queens, because there is no one bitchier than an old Queen. Even they loved Danny. That was his name. Danny O'Keefe. He was just shy of eighteen the first time he came to the city, and they said you never saw a more beautiful boy, in looks and personality. Unless it was Danny the following year, some of the sly ones would say, after his first year of college, at almost nineteen. That was when he went a little wild. They all knew he was bi-sexual, and while he did a little fooling around with the boys his first time up, he was said to be seriously enamored with his ballerina that first summer, who was, of all things, about 35 years old! The next summer it was all boys for Danny. The ballerina fling was over; some said she broke his young heart and made him swear off women, others said he had fulfilled his promise to his parents to be bisexual until his first year of college was over; whatever it was, he and his sister Angel explored the night life with a vengeance, and New York loved them. Danny once again ruled summer Shakespeare, and he owned the gay piano bars by night, singing, and dancing with Angel and the boys of summer. One idiosyncracy he had, unusual for a boy his age, was that he insisted on topping, but it was agreed that such was his popularity that this didn't prove a problem for him ... as a general rule.

Then he came to the attention of Edward Simon, who had been in Europe, getting one of his "treatments" the year before. Angel had known Edward and was happy to introduce her baby brother to him. Danny and she were doing some modeling together and she thought it would be good for both their careers to be on good terms with the billionaire. No one knew what other motives Angel O'Keefe may have had. Generous people absolved her of trying to pimp out her younger brother in order to boost a career that had been flagging due to her growing drug habit. Less generous but more honest people pointed out that once he saw Danny, there was no need to do more, Edward was obsessed. He wanted the boy and that was the end of rational behavior on his part. And he wanted Danny's ass.

For his part, Danny perhaps was not wise. But he was still a teenager, and a cocky one at that. Reportedly, when emissaries from Edward indicated that being nice to the rich man would make him a star, the beautiful boy replied, "I don't need to let some old man fuck my ass to be a star, thank you very much. I fully intend to be one on my own."

Edward, appreciating the fact that Danny was young, gave him two whole years to grow up. When Danny was going on 21, and on his last summer break before senior year, Edward approached him again. Angel was 26 now, and not doing so well in her career. Danny did a national ad campaign with her that was extremely well received and revived her career. They posed together for the New Dark Angel Campaign, renewing a contract from Angel's first year of modeling. The company would only use her, their first Dark Angel, if Danny would join her as their first male Dark Angel. Although he was not eager to continue modeling at that point in his own career, Danny agreed to help his sister. Edward was entranced by the image of Danny as a Dark Angel, and indeed, the photographer did brilliant work, showing both siblings at their best. It was rumored that Edward started an affair that year with Angel O'Keefe, since he once again couldn't have the brother. It wasn't, however, for lack of trying.

The following Spring, Danny graduated college with full honors in music and dance, but he found that producers were worried about offering him the parts he so richly deserved for fear of Edward Simon black-balling them. Simon had run out of patience. Danny won the role of Joseph in "Dream Coat," only to have financing for the show canceled. So he joined a road company production, wowing audiences in every city in which they performed. The same was true when he joined the road company of "Les Mis." He even went with that show to France. Each time, in each city, rumor had it, he received a dozen red roses with an unsigned note on opening night, the note reminding him that he belonged on Broadway and that there was only one thing preventing from being there. He always gave the flowers away. Usually to the cleaning lady. Even in France.

Danny persevered, with Edward always holding success just out of his reach in New York and elsewhere. When he went again to France, he performed to sell out crowds as Marius, singing in perfect French, and living with his first serious boyfriend, only to be called home to support his sister in a difficult pregnancy. Angel gave birth to a baby girl they both claimed was fathered by a soldier friend of their older brother Luke. Sadly, they claimed, the baby's father died in Afghanistan. Danny said goodbye to his boyfriend and career in France, and planned to stay indefinitely in the States, keeping an eye on Angel and her new baby girl, who they named after another brother's college friend.

The next year, when Danny was about age 25, Angel seemed to be getting control over her life, and was able to take care of her young daughter for stretches at a time, with her brother's help. It was then that Edward struck again, having the young man kidnaped and held down so that he could be forcibly branded on his left buttock with Simon's initials, prior to his attempting to forcibly take what the young man had denied him for seven years. Danny's humorous perspective on this episode, as reported by the old queens in the clubs where Danny worked as a piano player occasionally, was that Edward's ego was a blessing, because the time he took for that moment of conceit saved Danny from the forcible rape as it gave his brother Luke, a member of the Special Forces and a Green Beret, time to get to him and kick the living shit out of his kidnapers. What Danny told his brother to convince him scratch the still raw brand over with an "X" with his knife was not known to the old queens. But, the resulting scars could be seen whenever Danny was fucking a trick in the backrooms thereafter, which Danny made sure happened. They say that to this day, his left buttock is marred by a small burn scar shaped like Edward Simon's initials, although they are off center, since the man doing it, Simon's bodyguard, had been punched while in the act by the fist of a 6'9" Green Beret; that scar is covered by a large "X" shaped scar. The overall effect is like what one sees when something is forbidden, as in a no smoking sign. The old queens like to cackle that it means that Danny O'Keefe's ass is a "No Edward Simon Zone."

After that episode, Edward left for a retreat in Europe. Danny took to the road again, this time touring as a dancer under an assumed name for a big name female artist since Luke had to leave for Afghanistan. Luke never returned from that tour of duty, and was reported missing in action, presumed dead. Angel died of a drug over-dose, supposedly given to her by a friend at a party she attended while Danny was on tour. Danny never heard of the friend she supposedly was with, but the police said there was insufficient evidence to make her death worthy of further investigation. The man Danny wanted investigated was out of the country at the time of the incident, so he couldn't have been involved, they said. The fact that he was back less than a week later was irrelevant to the police, especially when the woman who died was a known drug user. But Danny got roses the night she died, even though it wasn't an opening night and he was just a dancer, not a lead actor. And for the first time, the card simply said, deepest sympathy.

Danny's father died about a year later so he returned with his little niece to Pittsburgh, to be closer to his widowed mother. He never did get to star in a Broadway show, but then, Edward Simon never got to fuck his "Dark Angel" either. At least not the boy one.

But every year since Danny was on magazine covers everywhere as the Dark Angel, Edward Simon has had an "Angel." A White one, an Ebony one, a Bronze one, you name it. But never a Dark Angel with green eyes, who could sing and dance like an angel. All others are just a substitute, is what they say around Broadway and in the Village. And they laugh at Edward Simon, but always behind his back, because you don't laugh at someone that rich and powerful and fucking mean, to his face.

When I finished telling him the story, Justin got up, got dressed, and left without saying a word. I left for L.A. in the afternoon. I figured, at least I tried. Miguel would keep an eye out for him. What more could I do? And all that Justin had to do was make it through his year okay. Then Edward would be through with him and make another try for his Dark Angel. That's the way it usually went. Although already there was talk that he was treating Justin differently than the others. And that was what had me worried.

Return to Better Friends and Lovers