Better Friends and Lovers

Chapter 21

(Setting: Friday Evening in June; Babylon; POV/Brian)

"It's King of Babylon night! Come on, boys and boys, who's going to be the new King?"

Emmett squealed with his usual enthusiasm as he and Danny walked up to us. Danny was dressed fairly conservatively for him, in just washed out Levis and a white button down shirt with thin red stripes, the sleeves rolled up. His hair was curlier than normal, so he must not have made any attempt to blow dry it straighter as he'd been doing since he cut it. And he was wearing sneakers instead of his usual boots. He looked hot, as always, but it was not quite his usual night out at Babylon kind of hot look. Theodore noticed it, too.

"May we assume from your 'high school boy heading out on a study date' attire that you're not entering tonight's competition, Danny? What a pity; I was looking forward to seeing more of your dancing."

"Not to mention seeing more of you, dancing almost naked," Blake added with a smile. I had to hand it to the former tweaked out twink, he exuded an enviable peace these days. He was confident in himself and in his relationship with Theodore, which, although I would never admit it out loud, was nice to see. Ted, on the other hand, was still his same old, insecure self, as evidenced by his flushing deep red at Blake's comment, sputtering denials that only served to make a teasing comment lead to abject humiliation. A common state for Theodore. I raised an eyebrow at him and he grew even redder. Danny just laughed, and gave him a reassuring one armed hug while Emmett shook his head, still mourning Danny's refusal to participate, ignoring Blake completely. He never has forgiven the guy, but whether it was for giving Ted the drug that almost killed him, or for being the one to help him when Emmett couldn't, was unknown, probably even to him. At least Danny had gotten him to be more or less civil, which was an improvement over his former thinly veiled animosity. He babbled on now, as though Blake had never spoken.

"I've been trying to get Danny to enter the contest and give Brandon some competition, but he still hasn't. Maybe you can talk him into it, Brian?" Emmett looked at me hopefully. I rolled my eyes.

"If Danny doesn't want to strip for the pleasure of a room full of horny fags, that's his decision. It isn't like King of Babylon is a real dance contest, it's a glorified peep show. Why pander to that?"

"You did. Once upon a time, that is. And your theory doesn't explain why you won it, how many years ago has it been now? Ten? Twelve? You've never been able to dance and you're not exactly Mr. Universe, and never were." Most of the assembled gang was amused by Theodore's bon mots; he'd made a good recovery from his earlier embarrassment. Mikey jumped in on the conversation, always quick to defend me.

"Very funny, Ted, but it's only been about eight years since the last time Brian was crowned King, and he won it, in large part, on sheer presence. Not that there weren't plenty of guys voting for his body, lean muscles have always been popular too. He probably would've won it more years if he hadn't withdrawn from the competition after winning three years in a row. "

Mikey beamed at me; I rolled my eyes in acknowledgment of his advocacy. Good old Mikey. I could always count on him to defend me whether I wanted a defense or not. Fuck, it had been a hell of a long time since I'd been in this silly contest. I hadn't realized over a decade had passed since I was crowned King of Babylon the first time. I was twenty-three years old then, and I'd stopped well before there was any chance I wouldn't win. Long before I realized how stupid the whole thing was, too. I could still recall my internal debate over whether to enter a fourth time, and the spin I placed on my announcement to the gang that I'd outgrown the whole thing.

It was definitely a competition for young men. Yet, the result was "fixed" far less often than one would think; Babylon's management realizing that its annual "King" had to be one of the studs du jour or it would lose patron favor. There were notable, exceptions, of course. Nonetheless, it was a popular contest, which is why we decided to hold it again this month. The regularly scheduled one would have taken place in the period after the bombing, before the place was rebuilt.

Danny quietly drank his beer, taking it all in with a thoughtful look as the guys discussed favorite kings from the past. I lost track of their conversation, preferring to monitor Danny's mood, and fuck it, I simply enjoyed looking at him. My attention was sucked back in by a comment by Mikey.

"Just as well Danny isn't entering if it would bother him not to win. He really is a bit old for this competition, good as he looks. What are you, Danny, twenty-six, twenty-seven?"

"Almost twenty-eight," Danny told him, smiling in a noncommittal way, and placing a hand on Emmett's arm to forestall his indignant response. "So, you think I'm too old to win?" The question was posed casually. Only someone who knew Danny as well as I did would be able to tell that his temper was aroused. Never tell him that he couldn't or shouldn't do something, his brothers had longer ago realized to their amusement; it was the fastest way to ensure that he would do it. I was kind of that way myself so I could empathize.

"Well, even Brandon is only twenty-four, and there are a couple other guys entered who are pretty hot and thanks to your dance lessons for the show, can dance really well now, and none of them is over twenty-five. The winners lately have all tended towards the young side. What was Justin, eighteen or so when he won?" Mikey looked over at me for confirmation.

I shrugged, thinking of the time Justin decided to get my attention by entering the contest. He won, waving that bubble butt around in his tighty whities for all to leer at, his shirt flipped over his neck to expose his pale chest, wearing nothing but a cowboy hat and that big smile of his. Then he stole that stupid trick from me. Damn, I'd forgotten how pissed off I was that night; hot as the boy looked dancing, it wasn't pleasant being made a fool of. He didn't go home with me, instead choosing to make yet another one of his points about how I treated him. Danny must have seen something in my face because he moved closer, leaning against my chest slightly as he tipped his beer back. I nuzzled his neck, relieved he was acting almost normally around me.

One of the things I loved about Danny was that he sees no need to talk about everything, and the last thing he would do if he thought I was bothered is draw attention to it. Instead, he gives silent comfort and support. Fuck, was I actually thinking in terms of what I "loved" about Danny and not only that, but having it feel completely natural? I realized how much I'd come to rely on those qualities when they were gone for a few weeks. I missed his support and unconditional acceptance almost as much as the incredible sex. Maybe even as much. I've had a lot of great sex in my life, but little if any unconditional love. I put my arms around his waist and pulled him closer against me. He turned his head and kissed me, a brief, beery tasting, hard kiss, full of promise for later tonight. Then he pulled back slightly to speak low, for my ears only, an amused light in his eyes.

"So, both you and Justin were Kings of Babylon, Bri? Seems there must be quite a variety in winners, as I can't imagine you ever being the sweet young thing type. Did you even dance?" He ran his tongue over those full lips of his, then turned back around before I could attack them, so I settled for slowly running my hands down the hard muscles of his chest and stomach, feeling him tense against my caress, his breathing quickening slightly, before he relaxed into it, rubbing back against me, cat-like. That firm ass pressing against my hardening cock was making my own breath come faster, much as I strove to appear unaffected.

"Brian would just kind of sway up there, or lean against the pole half naked, in cut-offs, smoldering out at the crowd," Mikey informed him, his sharp ears picking up the question. "I think the last year he won, he just took off his shirt and did that pouring the water over his head and chest thing he does, then shook the water from his hair; ninety percent of the crowd came in their pants."

"Ah, that's when our king had class," Ted added dryly. "Now we get big muscles and sexy dance moves, isn't it a shame?" His face showed he thought it was anything but. The bastard, I thought, somewhat amused as the others laughed. Just then, Bronson walked up, the greasy haired asshole.

"So, are you gentlemen all ready for tonight's festivities?" He looked over the group of us, pausing insolently as his gaze raked over me, but he really was directing his comment to Danny. "Is our bet on, Danny?"

"Betting again, Benson? I would've thought you learned your lesson about the dangers of gambling last time." I smirked back at him, remembering with satisfaction his pale skinny ass on display in my bed, and the chagrined look on his face when I sent him packing. I pushed away any thoughts of my own dissatisfaction with that whole sorry episode.

"This is just a friendly little wager between Danny and me. If he carries through on it and doesn't punk out, that is." I could feel Danny stiffen at the provocative words. I caressed his chest with the hand that I'd slipped inside his shirt, in an attempt to distract his attention to more pleasurable thoughts. It didn't fully work, although he reached back and looped his free hand around my neck to more firmly anchor himself to me. Only the fact that his body was pressed so tightly against mine revealed that he was holding himself taut as a bow string; his outward appearance was relaxed. He took another deep swallow from his beer before responding.

"I can turn a bet down easily, and as for this one, I thought it was clear that I was turning it down, Brandon, but is it daring me you're after now?" Danny's voice was deep and measured, a sure sign he was annoyed. That and the slight Irish lilt that had slipped into his voice. I was pretty sure I was the only one, with the possible exception of Emmett, to have any clue he was anything other than mildly amused. He usually reserved that voice for his brothers when they took the teasing too far. I winced inwardly; Danny had never passed up a dare in his life.

"Bet, dare, whatever you want to call it, Danny boy, I say I can beat you out for King of Babylon. This isn't exactly the Joffrey ballet, Babylon is more down and dirty. And you look like you got lost on the way to choir practice. Of course, anyone would understand if you felt you were a little bit too far over the hill and were afraid to compete."

The greasy haired ass had that smirk of his aimed directly at Danny now. The two of them had an odd relationship that I couldn't quite figure out. Danny was working with the man on the benefit, and I knew he enjoyed dancing with him, but there was always an undercurrent of challenge between them. And sexual tension. Of course, both were tops, Danny's relationship with me notwithstanding, so I was pretty sure there had been no exploration of that tension yet. Which probably was the cause of Berman's taunting, come to think of it. Shit, I wondered what the terms of the proposed bet were? Danny started to pull away but I held him tight, easily done with both arms wrapped around him. And with him not really trying to get away.

"Ignore him," I suggested in a low whisper. I might as well have saved my breath.

"Over the hill, you say? Afraid to compete? I don't see how I can refuse to enter the contest; them's fighting words, even for choir boys," Danny purred back at him. "Em, would you please tell Sheba to enter my name in the hat?" Emmett clapped his hands.

"You go, baby, I know you can do it. I'll be right back." He scampered off.

Branson curled his lip in an attempt at a smile, then had the nerve to wink at Danny. "May the best man win. And as the best man, let me say I'll be looking forward to the spoils of victory." Danny just smiled back at him, saying nothing.

"So, what's the bet for, if you don't mind sharing?" Ted asked. Everyone else had been paying close attention to the conversation and once the bet was confirmed, they avidly started discussing the relative merits of the two men, with side bets springing up all around us. Danny paid it no mind, standing half-turned, pressed into the curve of my shoulder as he nuzzled my neck. It had been a while since he'd been this affectionate with me and fuck, but it felt damn good. I was all for suggesting he blow off the contest and head back to my place right then, but I knew it would be pointless now. A dare was a dare. Byron was explaining the terms of the bet to the boys.

"I took a page out of Kinney's book, and decided to go for the same prize."

"You get to bugger yourself if you win?" I asked, mock innocently. Danny snickered along with the others as the blond gave a half smile.

"No, I get Danny for the night, any way I want him."

Shit. I could feel the tension return to Danny's body at that pronouncement. Didn't he know what the terms were before he agreed? Not that it would have made him back down, knowing him, but he hadn't bottomed for anyone but me as far as I knew, and I was strangely loath to think of him with anyone else that way, especially this prick. Maybe the increased physical tension thrumming between us wasn't his.

"What does Danny get if he wins?" Ben asked quietly, stepping into the void left by Barton's announcement.

"He hasn't said, but he can have anything he wants. It's an academic point. I checked, no one over the age of twenty-five has been crowned King of Babylon for at least the past twenty years," the snide blond pointed out.

"Hmm, let me see, what would be the equivalent of my services for one night?" Danny mused, his voice low and sexy. He waited until he had everyone hanging on his next words. Even Birmingham seemed to be anticipating them with bated breath. Danny paused dramatically, then exclaimed, "I have it! You must personally mow the grass at the O'Keefe family home for the entire summer, edging and bagging the cuttings, included."

I burst out laughing, along with the rest of the gang, at Brendon's disappointed look. After a moment, he joined in.

"Fair enough. I'd better go make sure my music is ready. Wouldn't want there to be any foul ups with so much riding on this." He sauntered off, but not without giving Danny's ass a final suggestive leer. Fuckwad.

"Danny, are you sure you want to go through with this? I have to tell you, Brandon is heavily favored to win. He's in here a lot and is pretty popular despite his arrogant attitude," Blake spoke up. A little too late, of course. Even Hunter, Danny's biggest fan, teenage division, looked concerned. He'd been allowed to start coming here when the club reopened, with the caveat that he could only do so when one of the gang was present to keep an eye on him, and after promising that he would not drink anything but beer and switch to soda after two. All of the bartenders knew to keep an eye on him. I still made sure he had a fake ID for these little visits, to protect my liquor license in the event of a raid, but I convinced his two dads that since he was going to party somewhere, better that he do it where we could all watch over him. It was hard to believe that the baby hustler was now older than Justin had been when he first started coming here in search of me. It was kind of funny to see Mikey getting all bent out of shape though, at the thought of his baby boy going into the back room some night. Like the kid didn't have far more experience of far worse. More than Mikey did, that was for sure. At least now the kid was doing it for fun and not profit.

Danny smiled lazily as he stretched luxuriously, then walked away from my side to order another beer and a coke from the bartender. Coming back, he handed the coke to Hunter and took a deep swig from his beer before answering.

"Those circumstances that you all have so kindly pointed out will just help make it interesting. Fact is, before this came up, I've never been called over the hill before, it's been a novel experience. Now keep an eye out for Giancarlo, he's supposed to come tonight and he's sure to feel a little lost in here." He flashed his dimpled smile at me. "Fuck, listen to me, between Gian and Hunter here, I'm turning into a mentor to twinks. Or is babysitter the word I'm looking for? I must be getting old!" Hunter balked at the word babysitter as his two fathers led the others in laughing. Ted focused on a different part of the statement, however.

"Giancarlo Rizzuteri is coming to Babylon?" Ted asked, seeming shocked.

Hunter recovered quickly enough from the babysitter remark to ask, "What? You've been singing with him for a couple of weeks and couldn't tell he was gay?"

"Of course I could tell he was gay, I just didn't think this was his kind of scene. Is he even out yet?"

"More or less," Danny explained. "His mom knows he's gay and he told his grandfather recently, about the time he suggested they make their men's jewelry line a major focus; he doesn't care about the rest of his family. It was Aida, actually, who invited him, at the last rehearsal they were both at. She was looking forward to the contest but I refused to be her date for the night, so she asked Gian to escort her."

"Is that wise? She's pretty wild, isn't she?" I thought of some of the stories the Frenchwoman had shared with me over a few shots of Beam. "He's pretty naive about this scene, Danny." He grinned mischievously at me, the dimples on full display.

"She won't lead him astray, not unless he clearly wants to go. And if that's the case, believe me, she'd be a better babysitter than any of us would be, she can spot a prick a mile away and has no qualms about telling someone to fuck off. She's like you in that respect, you without the big cock, that is. By the same token, if he gets hit on by someone appropriate, she'll help foster it. Despite being a couple years younger, she was a big help to me in Paris, and it was a lot wilder there than anything Pittsburgh can show him."

"Really, tell me all about it, 'Daddy,'" Hunter grinned. Ben cuffed him on the head. Then he looked at the rest of us comically as the kid rubbed the spot he'd whacked. "Oh my God, I've turned into Debbie."

"Well, I'm glad you did it," Danny assured him despite Hunter's wounded look. "If you hadn't clipped him, I was going to, and mine would have hurt more, so he should be thanking you for your pre-emptive strike. Call me Daddy again and he'll feel it." Under cover of the general laughter and chatter from the group, I pulled Danny aside.

"You sure you want to do this? The whole contest thing is beneath you. And besides, a night with Burton?" The green eyes flashed at me.

"So you're another one who thinks I'm going to lose? To Brandon? You wound me, Brian, you really do."

"I'm not saying I wouldn't vote for you over that twat any day, kiddo, as would any man with taste. I'm just saying that you look like a grown man, and there's been a strong leaning toward the skinny, boyish type for the past several years. Either that or the muscle bound twink, but either way, you're talking twink. I don't know that either of you will win, except that based on his confidence, he's probably been blowing guys, or letting guys blow him, for weeks to get votes, whereas you're not exactly a backroom regular around here."

"Well, in that case, I guess I'd better try my best to appeal to the 'Daddy' element in the crowd, huh?" He smirked at me, then, surprising me, grabbed my hips and pulled me in close. After a deep kiss, which reminded me of all the benefits to be found in a man over an inexperienced boy, he growled low in my mouth, "don't worry, Bri, this ass will still belong exclusively to you when the dust settles. I'm sentimental that way. Besides, you should know better than to ask me to back out on a dare!" He sucked in his bottom lip, biting it. God, there were better ways to spend an evening, I couldn't help thinking as I stared at it, then bent to kiss him some more.

Emmett came back as I was returning the kiss, causing Danny to pull away. "I fixed it up, baby, and told her where to find the song you wanted on the CD you use for rehearsals, so the music is all arranged. Guess what, you were the last one to enter before the cut-off, so you'll go last, she said." Emmett beamed happily.

"The song you wanted? When did you and Danny discuss what song he would be dancing to?" Hunter looked between the two of them. Danny just sipped his beer, hiding his smile behind his bottle, while Emmett blushed. Before the tall queen could start stammering some lame excuse, Danny interrupted him with the offer of a Cosmo. I raised an eyebrow at the dark haired dancer, but he just looked back innocently. "Another Beam, Bri?"

"There's Giancarlo and Aida," Ted pointed over towards the doorway. The young Italian looked like he was experiencing culture shock as the tall Frenchwoman dragged him across the dance floor, through the mass of sweaty, half naked men.

"Bon soir, mes amis," she purred seductively. Danny kissed her, then hugged Giancarlo, who looked dazed and clung to him.

"What have you been doing to the poor man, Aida? He looks shell shocked! Come on, Gian, let me introduce you to the men here that you don't already know, and Hunter will get you a drink, the show is about to start. Wine?" He signaled the bartender to serve the wine to Hunter and gave the kid some money.

"If you are taking Gian from me, Danny, then I shall make the stern looking Brian Kinney dance with me. Come on, Monsieur Kinney, I need a partner and you're the only one here besides Danny who is not afraid of me." She gave me a half smile in challenge, and seeing that Danny had our client well in hand, I headed out to the dance floor with her, causing a stir among the regulars who were amazed to see me dancing with a woman. Keep them guessing, I thought, with a smirk, which she caught and returned.

"They are, how shall I put it, transfixed to see the gay sex god Brian Kinney dancing with a mere female and that amuses you, yes?" Dark eyes looked at me, filled with their own amusement. She was as tall as Lindsay and easy to dance with. The song was a slow number just then so I had no qualms about my much maligned dancing measuring up. Knowing Aida, if it didn't, I'd hear about it, sex god or not. I'd seen her dancing with Danny, she was really good. It almost made me forgive the way she had of wrapping around him as though she were a boa and he were a fashion challenged drag queen.

"You and my Danny are back on good terms, I think. That is good for him, he's been very sad without you. And you, you've been sad also, Brian Kinney?" So much for small talk.

"I've missed him," I agreed. She was watching me carefully, trying to read behind my expression. Lots of luck.

"That is good. I don't like to see Danny hurt, he's been hurt too much. He is not one to take for granted." I really didn't care for the veiled warning in her voice but I forced myself to stay pleasant. The last thing I wanted was to quarrel with one of Danny's best friends.

"Listen, Aida, I can appreciate you're his friend and want to look out for him, but he's a grown man and capable of looking out for himself."

"Maybe I am looking out for you, Monsieur Kinney, as one drinking buddy to another?" She smiled enigmatically. I ground my teeth silently as we moved gracefully in time to the music. She continued with her Mysterious Marilyn impersonation, impervious to my annoyance.

"An old friend of ours, Danny's and mine, that is, is arriving in town soon, and you would not want Danny feeling lonely when Etienne arrives, would you? I think it is you who would be sad and maybe even hurt to see Danny move away, yes?"

Fuck yes. Danny move away? I made a noncommittal noise at the woman while my mind raced. His old lover was coming to town. The one serious male relationship in his life before me. Fuck. And this unknown man might want Danny to leave with him? Where? To France? Double fuck. It occurred to me that with his mother's death, Danny's reason for being in Pittsburgh no longer existed. He could take care of Briana anywhere. He wouldn't have the family support he has here, but he wouldn't have the interference either. Much as he loved his brothers and sisters, he'd spent most of his adult life away from here. He could go somewhere else and reignite his performing career. He clearly had the talent. But would he want to leave?

The music had stopped at some point. I realized that I was just standing in the middle of the dance floor, which was clearing as men made their way forward, closer to the stage where the King of Babylon contest was about to start. Aida gave me a knowing smile.

"Shall we return to our companions?" My feigned indifference to her news wasn't fooling her at all. I nodded silently and followed her back to the catwalk. Gian was standing close to Danny, talking animatedly about his latest jewelry designs. He was looking at Danny with adoring eyes, touching his arm now and then for emphasis. He looked so young, I had to consciously refrain from asking if his mother knew where he was. He smiled at me as I walked up.

"Brian, I am having such a good time in your club! It is beautiful. I am so happy Aida asked me to come with her tonight."

"Glad to hear it, Gian, but be careful. Did you give him the required lecture on safe clubbing, Danny?"

"Just the way you gave it to me, Bri, back when I was still young and innocent, as opposed to over the hill and debauched," he said, grinning at me as everyone else played into his comment by objecting to the description. He smoothly diverted Gian's attention over to Ted and Blake, suggesting that the two of them help the young Italian find a better spot for viewing the contestants, which idea was immediately accepted. The three of them, plus Hunter and Aida, headed down to a lower platform, closer to the stage where Sheba was introducing the first wannabe King. Danny moved over to my side, another fresh beer in hand. I knew he had an incredible capacity, in fact, I'd never seen him drunk despite some heavy drinking in the old days, but he seemed to be knocking them back fairly quickly even for him tonight. I hoped it didn't have an adverse effect on his dancing, although I knew better than to say anything.

"So, do you remember when you gave me the lecture, Brian? Back when I was all of what, fifteen?" He placed his head on my shoulder.

"Yeah, I remember. Do you follow it is the important question?"

"Always, Bri, always. Notice how I only take beers from men I know and I never leave my bottle unattended. I simply gulp it down if I want to go dance or take a piss. Those rules come right after 'keep lube and spare condoms on you at all times' in order of importance." He pulled my head down and kissed me, his tongue darting into my mouth, his groin pressing against mine urgently. Breaking the kiss after awhile, he looked me in the eye and murmured, green eyes filled with...something that made my throat tight, "and if I never before told you thanks, consider it said now." He stayed close, one arm hooked loosely around my neck, fingers running lazily through my hair, his eyes scanning the crowd's reactions rather than watching the contestant.

I cleared my throat. "Hmm, considering that I like the way you express gratitude, I'm glad you waited until now to say it," I whispered back. He laughed, a low, throaty laugh. I wished once more that he hadn't entered this stupid contest, I really wanted to leave now. I was so hard for him. I was happier than I cared to explore, even in my own mind, that he was over his anger. The good feelings from earlier in the week had continued to grow. Emmett was smiling at us from his spot at the railing next to Mikey and Ben, a sure sign that Danny's good mood was genuine. I wondered if he knew anything about this Etienne visiting, and decided to ask him at the first opportunity.

"Well, Danny, what do you think about the competition so far?" Ben asked cheerfully after a while. The third or fourth guy was now up; I hadn't been paying attention. He was dressed as a policeman, and had a nice body, although he was pretty stiff, and not in a positive, life affirming way.

"I'd give him an eight for physique, four on dancing, and five on personality, but I'm partial to cops, so I may be marking him a bit high," Danny said with a grin. Ben and Mikey laughed.

"I wouldn't kick him out of my bed," Emmett observed.

"You wouldn't kick anyone out of your bed," I retorted, earning a punch on the arm from Danny. "Hey, that hurt!"

"Then behave. It's simple; pick on Em, and I retaliate, I'm his designated hitter," Danny informed me.

"Shit, where's Theodore when I need him. Well, Ben, looks like it'll have to be you who bears the brunt of my rapier wit tonight. Or we could get Brandon back over here." They all burst out laughing as if on cue. I raised an eyebrow. "What's so funny?" Danny gave me a hug.

"Nothing, it's just that you actually used the right name for once. Did you run out of 'B' names or something?"

I grinned at him. "No, I actually had forgotten the asshole's real name," I confessed.

The contestants went through their paces. There were more of the Village People types, an Indian Chief, a fireman, a construction worker. I commented that we seemed to have every profession except chiropractor represented and Mikey turned bright red. Of course the tale of Dr. Dave's little strip tease had to be related to Ben and Danny, much to Mikey's dismay.

"Oh don't complain, I haven't put the professor's name in...yet. Though I must say, I bet your husband would put the good doctor to shame if he were to strip down to his skivvies."

"Don't even think of it," Mikey warned. "Besides, they closed the contest."

"Don't tempt him, Michael, I'm sure the owner of Babylon could get them to bend the rules, so let's just thank him for his vote of confidence and change the subject. Fast." Ben put his arms around his partner, who was still sputtering as Em and Danny snickered. I shook my head, with mock chagrin.

"Fortunately for Mikey's peace of mind, I don't want to take votes away from Danny, and I know your loving husband would vote for you no matter how much better Danny was, out of loyalty. Hell, the baby hustler might too."

"Hell, I might, Ben has incredible pecs and I can't compete with those biceps," Danny teased. "How is voting done, anyway?"

"You cast your vote with the bartenders, and they stamp your hand after you've voted to stop people from voting more than once at different bars. When Brian took over, Teddy made the voting much more accurate and fair," Emmett explained.

"When you think about it, there is a disadvantage to going last, Danny. A lot of guys get carried away and vote before everyone has performed," Ben noted thoughtfully.

"Oh good, I'll use that as my excuse if I lose. Beats my advanced age as a reason," Danny said with a confident grin. I watched as he walked over to the bar for another beer. Advanced age, bullshit. Danny had the best ass in the place, and so far there wasn't a guy in the contest who could compare when it came to looks. He was far and away the best dancer, too, the greasy haired blond included. This idea that he was over the hill because he was almost twenty-eight was ridiculous. But then, age was a state of mind. No one knew that better than an advertising person. Unfortunately, we gays were prey to mind fucking ourselves over the age thing. I thought of how freaked out I'd been to turn thirty, and how I stopped competing in this particular contest well before that, for fear of losing as a consequence of being a few years older than the rest of the contestants. Ben echoed my thoughts with his next words.

"Gay culture worships youth even more than society as a whole. Twenty-five marks the end of youth in the eyes of many gay men, if not an even younger age, and forty is old age. Some of my gay students have actually told me they don't fear getting AIDS, as they have no interest in living to be old, and by that they mean thirty-five!"

"Gee, no one we know can relate to that type of thinking, huh Brian, risking death rather than getting older?" Mikey looked over at me.

"Fuck off, Mikey." I was irritated by his oblique reference to my attempt at scarfing. Danny looked at me thoughtfully.

"Enough depressing talk," Emmett commanded. "Look, Brandon is next."

I had to admit, the skinny-assed blond did alright, and his performance was well received, judging by the cheers from the crowd; Danny among the most enthusiastic. He danced to a slow paced number, moving sensually in time to the music as he stripped down to black bikini briefs. His body was only lightly muscled, but well toned; his legs were long and showed to advantage in the dance he did. There were a lot of wolf whistles as his flexibility was highlighted in a few of his more creative moves, which had Danny laughing into his beer.

"Don't think he learned that one at Julliard," Danny noted with a smirk, tilting his head sideways to get a better perspective.

"Can you do that?" Mikey asked him, a certain amount of awe in his voice as we watched.

I snorted. "Danny's done that while drinking a beer." Ben spilt his beer, laughing at the amazed expression on husband's face, which earned him a punch from his red-faced partner.

"Well, it is thirsty work...." I started to explain but Danny once again used kissing to shut me up.

"You think he was jerking off back stage to get his cock to look that big?" Emmett wondered.

"Nah, dancing is a turn on for him, he always gets a boner," Danny commented. We all raised our eyebrows at that revelation. He looked back at us innocently. "What? I can't help but notice, he's got it right in my face in some of our dances." He laughed as Mikey blushed, clearly envisioning such a scene. It was his turn to be gently punched by Ben.

After a few more lackluster performances, Danny gave Emmett a hug and me a kiss, saying, "well, I'd better head backstage, it must be getting near my time."

"What's he dancing to, Em?" Mikey asked as soon as he left. Emmett shrugged.

"I'm sworn to secrecy. But all I can say is, he looks fucking adorable dancing to it."

"Ah, then Danny has practiced?" Ben smiled.

Emmett snorted. "Of course he has. Someone as anal as Danny? Honey, he had this planned right down to his undies, which he had to purchase special since he didn't own the right kind for what he's doing."

"A new thong for an interpretive dance set to Ravel's Bolero?" Ben guessed. Emmett smiled.

"Hardly. Thongs he has by the dozen. This required a special shopping trip. And I will say that while he's been planning on participating, I don't think he cared whether he won until all the talk about him being over the hill, which Brandon started this week and you guys just added to tonight. But shush, Sheba's announcing him now." I snorted. Typical of Emmett, to tell us to shush when he was the one talking.

"Okay, we're finally down to our last contestant...or should I say we're up for him? I know I am. This next fine young man has asked to borrow my microphone, as he wants something to hold onto while he dances. I offered him something else to hold onto but he was firm about what he needed. I know he was telling the truth, boys; I checked him out backstage and he's about as firm as they come. Let's give a warm welcome to our last but far from least contestant, Danny O'Keefe, as he gets down to some risky business."

The opening notes from the song started while Danny was still off stage. I burst out laughing as I recognized it; Emmett was right, he certainly had planned this. His unusually conservative outfit for the evening was explained as the music from Bob Seger's song got going and Danny, clad only in white socks, white briefs, and his white striped shirt slid into view, in perfect imitation of the Tom Cruise scene from "Risky Business." Instead of lip synching the song as Cruise's character did, however, he was using Sheba's mic as more than a prop, and was actually singing the song in his sexy baritone. He sounded a lot like Seger, on the best voice day Seger ever had, that is.

Just take those old records off the shelf

I'll sit and listen to 'em by myself

Today's music ain't got the same soul

I like that old time rock 'n' roll

Don't try to take me to a disco

You'll never even get me out on the floor

In ten minutes I'll be late for the door

I like that old time rock'n' roll

Danny's ass and legs looked great doing the moves Cruise made famous, but even more importantly for this crowd, the white sports socks and high school boy outfit made him look like every "Daddy's" dream date. His curls were flying as he shook his head furiously while playing "air guitar" with an infectious grin on his face the whole time, which was a big contrast to most of the other contestants who refused to crack a smile their whole dance. Danny's performance said this was a King you would have fun with.

Still like that old time rock'n' roll

That kind of music just soothes the soul

I reminisce about the days of old

With that old time rock 'n' roll

Won't go to hear them play a tango

I'd rather hear some blues or funky old soul

There's only one sure way to get me to go

Start playing that old time rock 'n' roll...

Danny did the all moves from the movie, shaking his ass, bouncing off the floor, and holding the mic out from his crotch. But, since the original sequence was fairly short, he had lots of time to improvise, and he filled it with flips and splits that showed off his muscular legs and firm, dented ass that those white boy briefs did nothing to hide from a gay man's active imagination. The crowd was going wild and obligingly sang along when he held the mic out towards them.

Call me a relic, call me what you will

Say I'm old-fashioned, say I'm over the hill

Today' music ain't got the same soul

I like that old time rock 'n' roll

Still like that old time rock'n' roll

That kind of music just soothes the soul

I reminisce about the days of old

With that old time rock 'n' roll...

By far the biggest reaction came when he ripped his shirt open, showing off his perfect pecs and abs. Then he brought down the house when he reached down over the front of his pristine white underwear and stroked his large cock.

"Oh my God, is he really doing that?" Emmett exclaimed, fanning himself.

"Yep, and he's gaining votes with every stroke," Ben commented dryly. Mikey's eyes looked glazed. I glanced over at Gian and saw he was going crazy, clapping enthusiastically. Hunter and Aida were on either side of him, both wolf whistling.

Danny had the room, as well as his cock, in the palm of his hand. It didn't hurt that he looked like the best hung high school senior ever to don a pair of fruit of the looms. He was repeating the chorus now, slowly thrusting his hips in time to the music, holding the mic with one hand and running his other over his chest. I was hard as a rock and I suspected every man in the room shared my condition. There was just something so hot about him in those white socks, and white boy's briefs acting so lewd. At one point, he had his wrists wrapped in the cord of the mic and held them over his head as he leaned back against the pole, looking as though he were tied up. That move alone was probably worth a hundred votes, judging from the whoops the crowd gave. I took a deep, steadying breath.

Danny finished up with his back to the crowd, legs spread, arm to the side, similar to the opening move but just that much more suggestiveness in the way he rolled his hips. When the song finished, he spun around and bowed to the crowd, long wavy hair falling over his eyes. There was a mad rush for the bars as everyone tried to vote at the same time.

After a few minutes, the others came back to join us.

"Wasn't he great? I love that dance from the movie but Danny did it even better!" Giancarlo's eyes were shining. His crush was going strong. Aida was smiling her Mona Lisa smile as the others chattered with variations on the young Italian's theme. She came up to me and asked, an amused light in her dark eyes, "so, what did you think of our Danny's performance, Brian Kinney?"

"Not bad," I replied. I felt arms wrap around me at that moment.

"Not bad? I knew I should have whipped it out, maybe that would have garnered at least an 'okay' out of you," a deep voice whispered in my ear.

I turned and gave him a hungry kiss. "You whip it out later at home and I promise you better than an 'okay,' deal?" I growled when we finally broke for air.

"Deal." After chatting with us for a few minutes and accepting everyone's praise modestly, Danny got word to head back to the stage as one of the five finalists.

Within a reasonably prompt time after he left, Sheba was back out on stage to announce the winner. The five finalists, which included Braxon, lined up, in various stages of undress, to await the announcement of the winner. Danny and his bet buddy were the only ones to put their clothes back on, although Danny's shirt was unbuttoned, having lost the buttons when he ripped it open.

"Let me introduce to you the new King of Babylon, and the best thing ever to happen to a pair of tighty whities, Danny O'Keefe!" Danny gave Sheba a big hug and kiss, then he did the same to Brindon, who returned his hug good-naturedly. Danny quickly moved on to shake hands with the other finalists, all of whom were a good several years younger than Babylon's newly crowned "King."

This time, after hanging around for a suitable length of time for everyone to congratulate him, I made sure I got to take the "King" home.

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

(The Loft; later the same night/next morning; POV/Brian)

I closed the loft's door and pulled Danny into my arms. I held him close for a minute, enjoying the feel of him resting against my chest, his hair brushing my chin. He sighed.

"You okay?" I pulled back slightly in order to look at him carefully. He gave me a warm smile, relieving me that all was as good as I'd thought it was between us tonight. It wouldn't have been the first time I'd been clueless, however, so I wouldn't have been surprised to have this rug of happiness pulled out from under me suddenly. As it was, the shadow of Aida's words was hanging over me, but I'm good at ignoring things I don't want to think about.

"Yeah, I'm very okay. You seem pretty okay too." His hands were busily undoing my jeans as he walked backward into the room, pulling me along.

"Can't complain," I agreed as he fell over the arm of the sofa, pulling me down on top of him. I kissed him then, my tongue probing deep into his warm mouth... using my teeth on his full bottom lip...holding his face between my hands. God, how I'd missed this. His hands were pushing my jeans off, thumbs hitched on the sides to yank them down... palms massaging the flesh he exposed on my ass and thighs. I rubbed my hands down to his chest, twisting his nipples, loving the feel of his gasp in my mouth. Soon, I was the one gasping as he closed his fist around my cock, using the precum to lubricate his firm strokes. He cupped my balls in one hand as the other continued its delicious stroking.

"Bedroom, now," I ordered, barely able to get even that much out coherently. He still had the nerve to tease me, though, murmuring, "that'll be 'bedroom, now, your majesty.'"

I growled back at him as he rolled me off him and ran to the bedroom, laughing, stripping his clothes off as he went.

"Now that is a strip tease I'd vote for," I called after him, pausing to kick off my boots and finish taking off my pants before following.

"Are you saying you didn't vote for me earlier?" He peered at me over his bare shoulder, pretending to be hurt. He was stretched out naked on my bed, arms over his head, which gave me an idea. I reached into the side table and retrieved something before answering.

"Well, you are kind of old, and the twink in the cop outfit was really pretty hot...." I mused, anticipating his next words. His green eyes gleamed as he caught sight of what I was holding.

"I could play police-twink, too. As a reward for someone who voted for me, that is." He rolled over onto his back and batted those impossibly long lashes at me, then obligingly moved his wrists even closer to the top of the bed, where I'd installed rings on the wall for this very purpose. Without any further words, I pushed him onto his stomach again and snapped the handcuffs onto his wrists, securing him to the wall with the tether on the cuffs before he could change his mind. I sat back and admired the view, the sculpted back muscles and curve of his spine, begging to be licked, the little impression at the base of his spine, waiting for my tongue to dip into it, the perfectly formed ass, with its indentations defining the hard muscle on each side and the firm globes surrounding the cleft, another place just begging my tongue to dive in. I wanted to taste every inch of him. Danny looked over his shoulder again and he very consciously licked his lips. I could feel my heart rate pick up at the devilish look in his eyes. Oh yeah, this was going to be fun.

My gaze moved to his long, muscular legs. I caught a side glimpse of the now mischievous gleam in his green eyes as he bent those hard muscled legs up in preparation for my moving between them, and it occurred to me that those legs were probably more dangerous than his arms. I got up and grabbed two silk restraints from my "toy chest." They were just long enough to do the trick....no pun intended. He raised his dark eyebrows at the sight of the silken restraints. He twisted his torso around. Damn, the man was flexible.

"Oo, Mr. Kinney, who'd ever have guessed you were so kinky? I mean, other than the men who installed those special features like tether loops near and on your bed, that is. But you do realize you're not getting those ties on my ankles unless I let you?" He was looking at the ties with amusement, and interest.

"Are you letting me?" I whispered, leaning down and grazing my teeth over a nipple. He arched his back and moaned. I stroked my hand along one muscular thigh, as our eyes met. He nodded, then closed his eyes as he fell back down with a sigh.

"Give me a safe word, Danny." The green eyes flew open and he gave me his dimpled smile over his shoulder.

"Why, is the paddle coming out too?" He looked more intrigued than nervous at the idea, a fact to file away for next time. I had only pleasure in store for him tonight.

"No, but we've never done this together and it's a good idea, you might want to be untied at some point before we're done and I don't want to risk any mixed signals."

That dimpled smile flashed again. "Gendarme."

I grinned back at him,

"You sure you won't slip into French by mistake?"

"Gaeltacht, maybe, not French. Not by mistake, that is. Though if you don't finish tying me up soon, I just may have to turn the tables on you."

Those long legs wrapped around my waist, his calves pushing me closer. I kissed him for several long minutes, savoring the taste of his lips and mouth, then I slid my hands down the lean, muscled torso, past the slim hips, by-passing his thick erect cock to his whimpered disapproval, and on down his legs, pulling them straight as I went. Pushing him pack down onto his stomach, I secured each ankle with a silk tie and then fastened them to the rings located on the bottom of the bed, giving him enough slack to get up on his knees when the time came but not enough to turn completely around or to try any of his leg flips on me. I propped his hips up on a pillow and got started, moving his hair aside so I could kiss the back of his neck.

I made my way down his back, first licking, then biting lightly, then sucking each spot gently. I loved the way he looked, spread out on the bed in front of me. I thought I could come from the sight and sound of him alone. He moaned repeatedly, the sounds becoming increasingly deep and frantic. When I judged that he was about to come, even without my touching his cock, I pressed firmly at the base, earning myself fresh invective.

"God, Brian, you're driving me insane. Let me out of these fucking things and I will fuck you so hard you won't walk for a month..."

"Sounds tempting...but not tonight." He gasped as I finally separated his cheeks with my hands, and then paused, enjoying the intake of air from above me.

"Please, Brian, fuck me."

"I will. Fuck. You. Soon." I proceeded to tongue fuck him, rimming him while I reached up and around to caress his nipples, and every so often his cock, loving how he moaned and whimpered, his rock hard cock leaking. Every so often I would lick its juices away, causing him to moan his approval, then I returned to his torture. Twice more I stopped him from coming. I was ready to explode myself.

"Baise moi maintenant, tout de suite salopard." He tried twisting around and pulling out of the cuffs. I moved back to his neck to keep my weight on his upper body. I didn't trust the crazy fucker not to reinjure his arm before he would simply use his safe word and give in, he was so stubborn. If he weren't proving so much fun to torture this way I would be in pretty bad straits myself, but I'd wanted to see how far I could push him.

"This is what you get for playing piano while I fuck you," I told him as I caressed his arms soothingly and kissed along his shoulders. He laughed painfully. He tried a new tactic.

"Fine. Never," he gasped. "I will fucking never play piano for you again if you do not stick your cock up my ass right now."

I thought about that for a second.. He was quiet. Except for his heavy breathing. I deemed him sufficiently pleasured. I donned a lubricated condom then untied the legs restraints so he could easily get up to a comfortable position on his knees, which he did with a thankful groan, his arms still cuffed. I barely gave him time to catch his breath before I penetrated him deep in one thrust.

"Yes, fuck, yes, Brian." He pushed back against me, forcing me deeper, stilling any concern I had that I'd gone in too hard.. God, he felt so good, so hot. I pressed my body down along his back and pulled his head around so I could kiss him. I pulled out only to slam back into him, my cock moving in and out of that perfect ass that was pointed up at me, his strong legs levering him back against me, as he more than met my thrusts halfway. Within moments, we both were coming, screaming out our release.

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

I woke up to an empty bed and immediately was worried that Danny had slipped out without saying good-bye, which would be the sign I'd be watching for all night that things were still "not okay" between us. I then caught the sound of retching coming from behind the closed bathroom door. That must have been what woke me up. The clock said it was four-thirty, and it was pitch black outside. I grabbed some boxers from the dresser and made my way across the room in the dark.

"Danny? You okay?" Why does one always ask that even when it's clear that the person in question isn't okay, I wondered even as I posed the inane question. There were sounds of the toilet flushing and the sink running before the door was opened by a pale, bedraggled looking Danny.

"Not really. I kind of need to go home, if you would call a cab for me, Bri, please. Fuck." With that, he turned quickly and started retching again. I moved forward to hold his hair back for him. His body was wracked with painful spasms for several moments.

"Migraine?" He nodded in the pause between bouts, leaning back against my legs as he knelt on the floor.

"Where's your medicine? I'll get it for you."

"It's home, I knew I'd be drinking tonight so I left it there. I thought I felt one coming on earlier but I can't combine the medicine with alcohol so...fuck...." He leaned over the bowl again.

"You can't take a cab like this. Let me check the cabinet, maybe you have some left from before." Before, when he was staying over all the time, was what I was thinking but didn't say. He didn't answer at first, caught up in his misery. Then, as I went to go look, he stopped me.

"Doesn't matter. Can't take it. I was drinking until almost two or so I think. At least past one. I don't want to combine it, meds are too strong, and I drank a lot last night, usually never bothers me, you know that. Damn lights over your bed must have triggered the migraine." He managed to laugh slightly before turning and throwing up one last time.

"I think that was it. Help me up will you?"

I helped him over to the sink and handed him a fresh toothbrush from the supply under the sink. He accepted it without comment, probably because he maintained his own similar supply for "guests" at his place. After brushing, he stood passively and let me wash his face for him, leaning against my shoulder weakly.

"Come on," I told him.

"I hate being sick away from home," he complained, his deep voice saving it from sounding like a whine.

"Duly noted. Next time, remind me to turn the 'damn lights' off and stop you from drinking a twelve pack of beers and you won't be, but for now, let's see what I can do to get rid of your headache." I led him back to the bed. I stacked some pillows and leaned back against them, then positioned him between my legs, head on my chest. I started methodically and slowly pulling my hands through his hair, massaging his scalp, pressing lightly on his temples with my thumbs.

"Mm mm, feels good," he murmured sleepily after a few minutes.

"Good, just relax and try to go to sleep." A little while later, his breathing evened out and I was pretty sure he was asleep when I heard him speak again.

"Tá mé chomh m´r sin i ngrá leat, mo gra."

I realized Danny had once again taken refuge in the language of his heritage; I obviously didn't want to wake him to ask what he said although I was curious. I continued the stroking of his hair that brought him relief as I enjoyed the feel of the thick wavy hair moving through my fingers and the sight of his beautiful features softened in sleep as the pink light of dawn seeped in through the windows.

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