It was the next day at the breakfast table, though actually, it was well past noon, once again over the cornflakes. No one woke up in the mornings anymore. All the late night gigs and after hours activities seemed to turn everyone into late risers, just like all the others that lived in their neighborhood – it’s Village tradition.

Davy gave a few anxious glances at Peter hoping he would finish and leave, so he could talk to Mike about last night. “Micky still asleep?” Davy asked. Mike shot him an annoyed glare as he shook his head toward an innocent Peter.

“Micky’s been sleeping a lot lately. I hope he isn’t sick again,” came Peters concern.

“I’m sure he’s just fine, Pete.” Mike reassured him. Davy and Mike shared an amused glance, which Mike desperately tried to conceal. He didn’t want Davy to think everything was okay about their previous nights activity. But the tension at the table and Peter’s unknowing distress for Micky’s health made it too funny to keep that smirk in, so he hid it with a spoonful of cornflakes. As always, Peter being the first to arise was also the first to finish his breakfast, so finally with his now empty bowl, he left Mike and Davy for the bedroom. Mike looked straight at Davy when he said, “Don’t say a word.”

Davy raised his head from his bowl, surprised by the tone in Mike's voice. “I didn’t say anything, Mike.”

“Make sure ya don’t. I don’t want Peter finding out about this.”

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t tell Peter.”

“And that goes for Micky too. I feel bad enough about this whole thing.”

“I said I was sorry, Mike.”

“I know, but…I shoulda’ known better.”

That gave Davy the feeling of being a little put-down, though Mike didn’t say it that way, it was certainly his intention. He wasn’t going to tell Davy what to do, but he can make him feel bad about it, and hopefully, Mike wouldn’t need to say anything more on the subject.

Without warning the bedroom door creaked open, and in walked a very tired looking Micky. He slumped himself over to a chair to join them for breakfast, and after realizing he was without bowl and spoon, he let his head fall to the table with a loud smack. He appeared to be without the energy to retrieve the implements in the kitchen, or his head from the table. Davy got up to volunteer the necessities for Micky, while Mike pulled his head up by the mass of matted just-slept-on-curls so Davy could slide a bowl under him. “Hey Mick, you okay?” Mike asked. Micky just affirmed with a shake of his head and an unintelligible something out of his mouth.

“Rough night, Micky?” asked Davy.

Micky started to wake a bit. “I can’t take it anymore…I can’t take it anymore,” he said in a breathless voice.

“What’s that?” Davy asked.

“Charlie…she’s killin’ me.”

“Oh yeah? I thought you two were getting along great?” Mike added.

“Yeah…we are. She just… has a lot of energy.”

“Well, I can’t think of anyone who has more energy than you, Mick – must be the perfect couple,” said Mike.

“Yeah…I really like her.” Micky said dreamily.

“Uh-oh, I think he’s in love, Mike.”

“I think you’re right.”

“I am…I’m in love…I really am.”

“Ya’ sure it’s ‘love’?” Mike asked, knowing differently.

“Whadaya mean? I know when I’m in love.”

Mike shrugged off his answer, not quite believing him; but who was he to judge Micky’s emotions – if he says he’s in love, then maybe he is. Peter then emerged fully dressed from the bedroom. “Morning Micky, are you feeling okay?” he said on his way to get his coat.

“Micky’s in love,” Davy offered with an amused glance toward Mike.

“Really? With Charlie? That’s so wonderful, Micky. Charlie’s such a great person, and you’re my best friend…wow…that’s great that you two are in love…”

“Pete,” Mike loudly interrupted. “We have a gig tonight at nine, don’t be late.”

“I won’t be late, Mike,” he said as he went to give Micky a smile and a pat on the back, which almost brought Micky down into his cereal bowl despite Peter's gentleness. Micky was looking pretty frail these days, but it did spring him to life.

“Hey, where ya’ goin’ Pete?” Micky asked.

“Nowhere special…just out…why?”

“Oh, I don’t know…I just thought maybe we could do somethin’.”

“What about Charlie?”

“She’s gotta get ready for this big gig the band got”

“Oh…well…ah…I guess you could come with me…sure Micky.”

“Great, Pete. Be right back.”

And with that Micky found a renewed energy he must have been reserving, because he leaped out of his chair and rushed to the bathroom to get ready, while Peter sat down to wait. His plan was to spend the afternoon at Mom’s, but now he wasn’t sure he should go. What would Micky think of him if he knew he hung out in a place like that? 'Then again, Micky would probably fit right in. Maybe he’d even really like it,' Peter thought to himself, 'Hmmm, that might not be very good either. Well, I said he could go, and I don’t want him to feel bad, so I guess I’ll take him.'

Just then Micky flew past them all out of the bathroom still wet from the shower, and into the bedroom to throw on some clothes. He emerged dressed, but still damp. “Let’s go, Pete,” he said, and they both headed for the front door.

That left Mike and Davy still at the breakfast table, with Mike working on his third bowl of cereal, and Davy about to go through the morning paper. “So, what are you up to today, Mike?” Davy asked.

“Actually, I have a meeting with an agent today,” he answered.

“Really? An agent? For the band?”

“Yeah, who else would it be for?”

“An agent’s interested in us?”

“Yep – she sure is. She bought me a drink the other night after the gig.”

“That’s great news.”

“And if we play our cards right, she said we just might get ourselves a recording contract.”

“Why didn’t ya tell us this before?”

“’Cause it’s not a done-deal. It’s just a meeting.”

“Well, I know you’ll impress her, Mike.”

“Don’t say anything to Peter and Micky yet, let’s wait an’ see first.”

“You got it, Mike.”

Meanwhile, on the street, Peter was still not convinced if he should let Micky in on his Mom secret, or not.

“So, where we goin’, big Peter?” Micky asked.

“Well, there’s this little place I sometimes go to…”

“Yeah…okay.”

“It’s kinda’ what most people would call a hippie hangout.”

“That’s cool. Let’s go.”

“You don’t mind?”

“No. Why would I mind? One of my best friends is a hippie.”

“Oh yeah? Who?”

“Oh, Peter,” said Micky with a shake of his head.

“You know, a lot of people would call you a hippie too.”

“No, I’m just a long-haired weirdo,” Micky said, looking into his imaginary camera.

So, without further hesitation, Peter took Micky to Mom’s. He led him down the narrow street to the tiny building that housed his retreat. Even though it was mid-day, the place was dark – dimly lit would be more accurate. Beads hung everywhere, and the pungent smell of incense mixed with hash permeated the thick smoke filled air. A decorators nightmare – with pillows, and scarves, and carpets all from different origins, non of which matched. But it made for a very comfortable and cozy setting where one could partake in the activities. Crystal (a.k.a. Mom) greeted Peter with a kiss on the cheek and a joint in her hand. He introduced her to Micky, and she gave her newly found child the same response with an extra warm smile. Micky found the flat to be…exotic wouldn’t be out of place. He found Mom to be even more so. She was a small woman who covered herself from head to toe with colorful shawls, scarves, and beads. Peter and Micky sat down on some pillows with the grass offered them by Mom.

“This place is great, Pete,” Micky commented immediately.

“Yeah. I really like to come here.”

“Why were you keeping this such a secret?”

“I don’t know. I guess I thought you wouldn’t like it.”

“Are you kidding? You just come in and get high, and nobody cares?”

“Yeah.”

“Who wouldn’t like that?”

“Well, it seemed to bother you when Charlie talked about it.”

“That’s different. Besides, I’m used to it now.”

So, the two of them sat there getting stoned, and chatted the day away with all the other people that wandered into the place. It was a very peaceful and yet exhilarating place to be. The kind of place that they imagined the Beatles would hang out in...well, maybe not now, but if they weren’t rich and famous rock stars they might. And while Charlie had her days occupied by actual work, Micky spent his days with Peter at Moms.

Meanwhile, uptown Mike was having his meeting with the interested agent. Turns out she was more interested in Mike than the band. She was a young, thirty-something blonde who went by the name of Ms. Lauren Astin – though Ms. Astin will do. She found Mike one night at one of their gigs where she was immediately noticed for being quite out of place, dressed in a red business suit and taking notes as she listened to the band. Those things don’t bother Ms. Astin – she’s all business, unless it becomes personal, and she had decided that she wanted Mike to become personal business. “So, Mr. Nesmith, you’re interested in having your band record” she said.

“Well…you were the one that said you were interested.”

“You really don’t expect me to take your band seriously for recording, do you?”

“Well, yes…I do, Miss Astin, isn’t that what we’re here for?”

“I don’t know. What are we here for? And that's 'Mzzzzzzz' Astin,” she corrected him flatly.

“Ah...Sorry...You said you were interested in the band.”

“Oh, I’m interested in the band”

“Well…good…then…”

“But you’re going to have to put in some extra effort if you want me to get you a recording contract.”

“Uh-huh…Like what?”

“Oh…I’ll come up with something.” She tapped her pen on her desk, and gave Mike a devilish grin.

Mike wasn’t stupid – he was on to her, but this wasn’t the kind of game he was used to, and he didn’t know if he could go through with it and still have a clear conscience. But the band! That’s the only thing that mattered – the music, and the band. He should do whatever it takes to get the band off to that start he dreamed of. This opportunity never arose before – what should he do? Let it go because of his morals? Or grab it now while he had the chance. “I need to give this a little thought, Ms. Astin.” He said.

“Don’t take too long, Mr. Nesmith. I have a lot of starving musicians waiting in line.” She answered curtly.

He gave her one last long look before he left her elegant office apartment. She wasn’t bad – that’s for sure. With her heeled pumps on she was as tall as Mike, and could look him straight in the eye. She stood next to him holding the front door open, and he could have grabbed her right there and then – planted that kiss on her lips that she wanted, and be done with it – but he didn’t. He left with only a quick goodbye and a small slice of his ego.

He walked home by himself, all the way from 56th street back downtown to the Village - lots of time to think. He was disappointed in himself and in Ms. Astin. It never occurred to him that she would want something more than just the band. It wasn’t his talented song-writing she was after, or even the great new sound the band had – it was him. All she was really interested in was him. 'Why? he thought to himself, 'She could have any musician in New York – why me? Is this how it’s always done? Ya think every big-time band starts out this way? Just dumb luck, because some executive thinks you have a nice ass? Doesn’t anyone care about the talent? She said she had a long list of people just like me. Are they all just waiting to jump into bed with a willing agent to get their bands off the ground? Is that all it takes?! I guess that’s why there are so many bad bands that get recorded – so many bad songs out there bein’ played on radios all over the place. ‘Cause nobody really cares, it’s just a game. So...am I gonna play, or not? Can I do this? Can I screw her brains out everyday, if that’s what it takes for the band to succeed? And if I do...what am I gonna tell the guys? I can’t let them find out. What would they think? They’d be disappointed in me, that’s for sure. After always tellin’ them how to behave, how can I go and do something like this? I’d better make damn certain I’m doin’ the right thing.'

Mike continued his walk through the noisy mid-town streets in his own little world. Not a thought was wasted on what was going on around him, instead he concentrated on himself and the band making the big time...

Nez...dressed in black...backstage. Crowds of all the groovy people huddle around the tall Texan, shmoozing and admiring, waiting for him to speak with that golden voice. But they’ll have to be disappointed – no speaking before singing. Someone asks for an autograph. Nez just shakes his head calmly and gives a slight wave of his hand as if to say “no autographs please.” He spots his own hot, blonde babe over by the door, and slowly walks toward her. She looks up at him – awe struck. He grabs her around her waist and roughly pulls her up to meet him face to face. Then he plants one of those long luscious kisses on her lips – the kind she’s always waiting for.

...Mike looked up to see a cab inches from his knee. The blaring horn rudely interrupted his daydream, but the sign clearly said 'Don’t Walk', and he had to step back onto the curb and take the drivers abuse with some embarrassment. Maybe he should start paying a bit more attention to his surroundings before he kills himself.

After gigs, the nights were up for grabs. Mike started disappearing a lot more, recently, which was unusual for him. Peter may make one final retreat to Moms before turning in, and Micky would spend his evenings with Charlie...and Davy.

Davy never missed an episode of the Micky and Charlie show, despite what Mike felt about it. He even went as far as to move the furniture so he could get a better view of the couple in the light. And he stopped going out at night so he wouldn’t miss anything at the pad. There was nothing for him out there anyway. He wasn’t interested in these New York girls – or, maybe they weren’t interested in him. But he simply couldn’t stop himself when it came to the live sex show being performed nightly in the comfort of his own home – he became addicted to it, and he never again made the mistake of inviting Mike back. He didn’t really care what Mike thought of him anyway, and it wasn’t any of his business in the first place. Mike could get so pushy sometimes, he thought. As if Mike held the corner on morals, and what’s right, but he didn’t know what was right for Davy; and he wasn’t going to let Mike make him feel bad for enjoying himself. After all, he wasn’t really doing any harm to anyone; so he continued to keep his voyeurism habit a secret.

And the more he watched, the more he wanted, and fantasized. Funny thing was that he found himself more interested in watching Micky, than Charlie. He never would have thought of Micky in that way before, but Mike was right, it’s amazing what you can learn about a person when you watch them fucking. He never knew Micky could be so passionate, and so willing to please. He would do anything to keep Charlie happy and interested in him. Davy found himself studying Micky’s body and movements. 'His legs are too long for his body,' he thought, but that gave him the appearance of being more graceful than he actually was, which only added to his sexual choreography. He would make moves on Charlie that had never occurred to Davy to try; but then Davy was never as inspired, or determined to keep someone.

'Wow, no girl ever moved like that with me – how did Micky get so inventive?' he wondered, 'and why can’t I take my eyes off him?! This isn’t healthy – this can’t be good. He’s one of my best friends, and now I’m attracted to him! What the hell is happening to me?! Maybe Mike was right? Maybe I should have stopped doing this a long time ago, and then at least I would still be more interested in girls instead of my roommate. What am I gonna do about this? There’s no resolution. Is this what happens when ya move to Greenwich Village? Ya just turn gay?! Well, I certainly can’t have him – that’s for sure. Micky is definitely off-bounds. That's the worst part – what really bothers me is that all I can do is watch. I can’t just go up to my friend and roommate of the past three years and say: Gee, I suddenly find you really attractive – let’s fuck.’

No, he would have to satisfy himself with his eyes, and his own hand. He’d sit up in his darkened loft watching every movement Micky made, pretending he were making those moves on him instead of Charlie. She didn’t deserve him anyway, he thought, and he started to feel jealousy and hatred for her, always wishing he could take her place.

And as the days turned into weeks, he found himself feeling a bit deprived. He needed more than to just watch; he wanted a real person there with him. The way it used to be with those beach girls – at least they were flesh and blood. He needed a distraction – anything to get his mind off of Micky. But until that distraction showed itself he continued to sit in his front row balcony seat with his eyes feasting below on his roommate.

And Micky kept him very entertained; he would do everything he could think of to keep his little nymphet in ecstasy, while telling her how in love he was with her, but Davy could tell she didn’t feel the same way, though he doubted Micky realized it. If she ever said she loved Micky, it was never with any real emotion, only for the sex – that was the only thing that really mattered to her. Davy knew from watching them for so long; he could see them both in clear focus undistorted by emotion, or lust.

One night, after the show, there was a change in the usual closing act. Charlie had decided she was ready to leave. This had never happened before – Micky and Davy were shocked! Normally, Micky would have to drag her from the couch, but this night she got up on her own, got dressed and left.

“I’m sorry, Micky…It’s just that I have to get up early tomorrow,” she said.

“Since when? You never get up early,” A disappointed Micky asked.

“Well, you know…with this new gig and everything…”

“You’ve had the same gig for weeks.”

“Yeah…I know, but I’ve got some work to do.”

“Oh…Okay.”

“I’ll see ya’ tomorrow.”

“Don’t you want me to walk you home?”

“No. That’s Okay, babe. You stay here.” She gave him a little kiss, and headed for the front door.

Micky remained lying on the couch, still free of his clothes, looking out the window at the street lamp that shined on his face. Davy watched him, wondering what he was thinking, and wishing he could tell him what he knew. Micky was about to get his heart broken, Davy could sense it. Charlie was growing disinterested in Micky. Even the sex, as good as it was, wasn’t going to be enough to keep her. He wanted so much to be able to prepare Micky for the blow, but there was nothing he could do. He would have to keep his mouth shut while he allows this girl to walk all over one of his best friends.

The next afternoon, again over the cornflakes, Davy couldn’t keep his eyes off of Micky. He found himself watching him all the time now – it had turned into an obsession. And with the love affair on the brink of ending, it was more than Davy could handle. He wanted to try and find some way of warning Micky of what was about to happen, but he couldn’t think of anything. So, he just stared at him, wondering and worrying for his friend, and still wanting to get him into his own bed. Davy felt like he was being tortured, like he was paying a price for something he had done in the past. 'This isn’t fair,' he thought to himself. 'It isn’t fair to me, and it isn’t fair to Micky. How did I get myself mixed up in all this?! I want to get one of my best friends in bed, and he’s about to be heartbroken by some bird. It’s like some bloody, awful soap opera! I should have listened to Mike.'

Just then, Micky looked up from his bowl to catch Davy’s stare. “What?” he said to him with a mouthful of cereal.

“What?” Davy said back.

“Why are you staring at me like that? What’d I do?”

“Nothin’...Oh was I starin’ at you?”

“Yeah. You’re still starin’ at me?”

“Oh...sorry, Micky. I was lookin’ through you, not at you.”

“You’re startin' to worry me, Davy,” Micky said, as he got up from his chair.

“What you mean by that?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one who’s starin’,” he said, and went to get his coat.

“You were staring, Davy, I saw you,” Peter said as he got up to do the same.

“I wasn’t starin’.”

'Oh god!' Davy thought, 'This has gotta stop! Micky’s gonna find out if I don’t stop acting this way. I really need to get my mind off this. I’ve got to find something to distract myself from him.' Just then, a buzz at the downstairs door. Peter buzzed back down, to open the door for whoever was there.

“Ya know, Peter, ya really should ask who’s there before ya let anyone in here like that,” Mike said.

“Well, it has to be someone we know, Mike.”

“Why?”

“Because they buzzed us.”

“But Peter...” Mike trailed off with a shake of his head; he decided it wasn’t worth it. Peter and Micky headed for the front door and left it ajar for their guest, and deciding to take the stairs down. It was going to be a big day at Moms. A new shipment of some long awaited LSD – so they were in a hurry. A minute later the door to the pad opened, and in walked Butch, Charlie’s "sometimes" boyfriend. “Hey guys,” he said with his cheerful glow.

“Butch. We haven’t seen you around here in a while,” said Mike.

“I’ve been kinda’ busy lately.”

“So, what brings you here now?”

“Oh, I’m just lookin’ for Charlie, I know she comes here a lot.”

“Yeah...that’s true, she does,” Mike answered.

“Charlie? Whadaya want with her?” Davy asked with alarm.

“Nothin’, just lookin’ for her.”

“Sorry, can’t help ya, Butch,” Mike said as he got up to leave.

“Where ya goin’, Mike?” A panicked Davy asked.

“I...got a...meeting,” he answered and left.

“So, Davy...you seen Charlie around?” Butch asked as he went to take a seat next to Davy at the table.

“Charlie? No...no, I haven’t seen her.”

“Oh well... guess I’ll just have to find somethin’ else to fill my time with,” he said smiling at Davy.

Davy was in a panic. What should he do? 'This is terrible,' he thought to himself, 'If Butch gets back with Charlie, then what about Micky...and me?'

Butch poured himself a handful of cornflakes and crunched on them one at a time. “So, Davy, what are you doin’ today?” he said.

“Me?!” Davy answered with wide, startled eyes.

“Yeah, you.”

“Nothin’. Why?”

“Well...maybe you’d like to waste some time with me.” Butch said smiling between cornflakes.

“Oh...well...um...okay.” Davy gave the matter some thought: If he could keep Butch away from Charlie, maybe he could help save the relationship. 'Hmm...why is he smilin’ at me like that?' he thought to himself, 'I’ve never seen anyone with such perfect teeth.' Yes, Butch was a dream – he also had a perfect face to go with those teeth. Davy shot him back with a pretty perfect smile of his own. “So...how do ya’ want to waste time with me?” Davy flirted.

“Oh, I can think of lots of things to do?”

“Alright then, let’s do ‘em.”

Butch took one of his cornflakes, and popped it in Davy’s smiling mouth. Davy gave a surprised laugh, as his smile grew wider to receive the cornflake. 'This is it,' he thought to himself, 'This is my distraction. Butch can definitely take my mind off of Micky, and he does seem interested – doesn’t he?'

“Um...I have to get dressed if we’re goin’ out,” he said.

Then Butch got up close to Davy’s face and whispered, “Who said we have to go out? You look so cute in those pajamas.”

And it was love at first corny pick-up line. Davy had stars in his eyes – actual stars. No one had ever said anything like that to Davy before. How strange to hear it from someone else, he thought. And Butch was just his type: tall, dark, and handsome, well, in a hippie sort of way – he did have long hair and a beard.

Butch gave Davy a big smile with his perfect, pearly teeth, put his arm around him, and kissed him. Davy was in ecstasy. He was finally going to get what he had been aching for for so long now, and Butch was much better than Micky. Butch was beautiful, and strong, and he obviously liked Davy. Maybe now those Micky fantasies can end – now that he has a real live person in front of him. But he was new at this game, and he wasn’t sure how to go about it. Did it work the same way as with girls? Not the sexual stuff, but the flirting, and knowing when to make just the right moves. He’ll need practice, but he didn’t want to use Butch for that. He needed to learn fast, so he could impress him. For now, he decided to let Butch make all the first moves – he can learn from there. And Butch was well rehearsed, he leaned over to Davy to give him long, slow kisses, as if they had known each other a lifetime. Apparently, things move a bit more quickly in the gay world, because Butch’s next move was to remove those pajamas he liked so much.

Davy abruptly stopped him, “Wait. We can’t do this here.”

“Why not?” asked Butch.

“Because I have three roommates that could walk in at any minute.”

“So what?”

“I can’t have them finding out ‘bout this!”

“Oh...I see...you’re one of those.”

“One of what?”

“You really should come out, ya know.”

“Come out of what?

“The closet.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothin’. So, Whadaya wanna do, then?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“Get dressed - We’ll go to my place.”

'Uh-oh!' Davy thought to himself, 'Do I really wanna go through with this? And once I do, will there be no turning back? Does this mean I’ll never touch another girl for the rest of my life? Maybe I shouldn’t go. But then I’ll never get my mind off Micky...and Charlie will leave him...and...god Butch is cute. Hey, he still touches Charlie...sometimes. Maybe it doesn’t have to be permanent. Maybe I can like both! What if the guys found out? What would they think? Is it better they find out what I’ve been doing these past weeks? That I have a crush on my roommate?! Just go...go and enjoy yourself, you’ve been waiting for something like this for a long time. I can’t let Butch get away; I may never get another chance with him – I’d better get dressed.'

Davy got up and went to the bedroom leaving Butch to wait with his cornflakes. What should one wear to a first time homosexual encounter? “Ooh, the red shirt – red’s always good” he said to himself. “Now, what are the tightest pants I own?”

Davy was actually giddy with excitement. The thought of finally having a real human being again for sex was almost too much to bear, but he wanted to keep his control and look cool, not desperate. He had to play this out right, or he would loose Butch to Charlie, and he wasn’t going to let her have this one too. So, he tried to pull himself together as he finished dressing, and all the time convincing himself that he could go through with it. One last deep breath and he was on his way. He opened the bedroom door, and saw beautiful Butch waiting for him, and who looked pleased at Davy’s choice of clothing, or it was a look that said he couldn’t wait to get Davy out of his clothing – Davy couldn’t tell which. They left the empty pad, and took a short walk to Butch’s lair.

Just a few blocks away, Micky was about to have his own first-time experience. It was more crowded than usual over at Moms, everyone was anxious for the long awaited, first-grade acid to arrive. When it did, mom disappeared into the other room for final preparations. The drug needed to be dispensed on something, so with eyedropper at the ready, she quickly prepared enough for her waiting brood. She made her way around the room holding the small bowl of sugar cubes, and administering each directly into the mouths of her adopted offspring, one by one, as if they were receiving communion. Micky and Peter waited patiently in their usual corner, Micky being a little apprehensive about the whole thing, but Peter reassured him that his first trip would be a good one. Mom approached them with her loaded sugar cubes and kneeled down in front of them to deliver their gift. She knew it was Micky’s first, so she gave him a smile and said melodramatically, “This will open your eyes.” They looked at each other and laughed.

“She can be a little strange sometimes,” Peter said.

“Yeah, and spooky,” Micky replied.

“Don’t worry, you’re gonna love this.”

“I’m not worried, just a little nervous about loosing my mind.”

“Well, you can’t be paranoid – that’s the worst thing, just relax.”

“Okay, Pete. You’re the expert.”

And the two of them spent that afternoon tripping with their brothers and sisters at Moms. The walls moved, but no one lost their mind, and thanks to Peter, Micky had yet another substance to add to his drug repertoire.

Down the street, Davy was locked in the clutches of Butch – caught in his web of an apartment on Mercer street; but he was a willing little fly, and he allowed his predator to play with him all he wanted. The one room flat was in the basement of an old tenement building – dark, damp, and depressing. Davy found it to be not very conducive to lovemaking, so he tried to brighten up the place by putting a red scarf he found lying on the floor over the only lamp in the room. “There, that’s better,” he reassured himself. “Oh great, now I’m decorating. Where will it end?!”

Butch slinked over to him with his pearly grin, which caused Davy to melt into the floorboards. He caught Davy with his back to the wall, cornered him with his long arms, and bent down to kiss him. Davy became one with the wall at his back as Butch pressed up against him, and began to remove that lovely red shirt Davy so carefully chose only minutes before. Davy reached up to Butch and started to do the same; he was no longer having any second thoughts. He took one look at Butch’s perfect body and he was convinced he was doing the right thing. No girl, no matter how beautiful, could have a body like that; and the more Butch kissed him, the more natural the whole situation felt – no guilt, no apprehension, no Micky, no Mike – just this willing, warm body to play with. They slid down the wall onto the cold wood floor, not caring to move to the bed. Actually, there was no bed, just an old, thin mattress in the corner of the room sitting pathetically on the floor.

After maneuvering Davy out of those tight pants, Butch kissed his way south to reel Davy in deeper. Davy had never gotten head like this before – Butch had obviously had a lot of practice. As he concentrated on the inside of Butch’s mouth, the only description that came to his mind was “B.J. Deluxe”. The girls he used to date were never all that interested in this part of the relationship – to bad – it was always Davy’s favorite. He loved to sit back and let someone else do the work – all just to please him. Davy could be a little selfish that way, he was aware of that, but he had no intention of being that way with Butch. Even though he had never actually done this before, he already knew how to be good at it, and he wanted to bring Butch to the same heights of ecstasy that Butch was bringing to him – if nothing else, at least for all his efforts.

Davy sat on the floor with Butch still between his legs, getting ready to come and wondering if Butch was intending to swallow when suddenly he thought he smelled something burning. He opened his eyes and looked around, but saw nothing. So, he resumed his thoughts to his own orgasm and ignored the imaginary smoke. He held Butch’s head in place to be sure he didn’t escape too quickly, and he could have sworn it was getting really hard to breathe – 'wow, he’s good!' Davy thought to himself.

Butch was hard at work trying to bring Davy over the edge, and finally it happened – he swallowed, and then coughed – not from Davy, but from the fire that had started across the room from the lamp! They both jumped up, and raced to put out the flames. Too late – that thin mattress had already been engulfed – it went up as if it were made of straw. They had to get out of there – fast. Davy went to look for his clothes, but the smoke was so thick by then that he couldn’t see anything. So he ran out of the burning apartment wearing only his boots – Butch followed close behind.

They made it up the stairs to the street. Just in time too, because the little room had already succumbed to the flames. The fire department arrived. “Wow, that was fast. We didn’t even call them,” Davy said. The building started to empty of panicked tenants, and Butch gave a naked Davy his shirt to wear so they wouldn’t get so many stares.

“Let’s get out of here,” Butch said. So, Butch and a very cold Davy walked back to the pad. Somehow, Butch had managed to retrieve his clothes before escaping. As Davy walked home all he could think was, 'Thank god it’s dark.' He hoped none of the guys were at the pad – how would he ever explain his missing clothes? He would never hear the end of it. It was a good thing they didn’t have to walk too far, and lucky for Davy, the pad was as empty as they had left it. He ran into the bedroom to get some clothes on before someone did come home. “Damn, that was one of my favorite shirts too. I’ll never find another red shirt like that,” he said.

“You’re worried about your shirt?! What about me? I have no place to live now, thanks to your 'eye for color.'” Butch was starting to sound a little upset at this point. Davy didn’t know how to feel, but he reminded himself that he wasn’t going to be selfish this time. He really liked Butch, and he gave great head – he wasn’t going to loose him because of his own stupid mistake.

“I’m really sorry, Butch. I didn’t’ mean to burn down your place like that – it was an accident. It could happen to anyone.” Davy said as he pulled on his pants.

“It never happened to me.”

“There must be something I can do to make it up to you.”

“Well, you can start by finding me a place to live.”

“Fine...but...that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

Davy took Butch by the hand and led him up to his darkened loft. He didn’t even care anymore if a stray roommate happened to wander in – he had always been safe up in his secret space. “You can sleep up here tonight,” Davy said. “Just don’t tell anyone why.”

Then Davy proceeded to start what he had intended to do before they were interrupted by Butch’s pad being burned to a cinder. He reached up to kiss him, but Butch wasn’t in the mood for foreplay. He grabbed at Davy’s pants and had them around his ankles in no time, then positioned him over the loft rail. Just then, the front door opened and in walked Micky and Charlie. “Wow, is it that late already?” Davy whispered as he tried to read his watch in the dark. And with that Davy felt a sharp pain in a place he never did before – not entirely unpleasureable, but surprising nonetheless. He gazed down below at the couple on the couch. Micky looked like he had some extra energy tonight, he was diving in between Charlie’s legs as if he hadn’t eaten in a week. Davy was in heaven. What more could he possibly want? He stood there at the loft rail allowing Butch to get the better of him, while he continued to watch his favorite couple in all their best positions.

Butch didn’t even realize who was on the couch, or he didn’t care, because he never mentioned it to Davy. He simply had his way with him, and then fell asleep on the floor. Davy didn’t mind though, because it meant he could resume his favorite activity, and Micky was in great form tonight. He had Charlie coming at least a dozen times by Davy’s count. He wondered what got in to Micky today, and he hoped that maybe it would be just enough to keep their relationship going a little longer. Davy doubted it though – it was inevitable. This relationship was doomed from the start, and it was just a matter of time, but Davy still couldn’t find a way to tell Micky, and that really bothered him. Micky was so in love and so stoned that he really didn’t have a clue as to what was going on.

Davy sat himself down on the floor of the loft, and continued to watch on while Butch slept, until yet again the front door of the pad opened. “Oh no, who is it this time?” Davy muttered to himself, annoyed at the interruption. Peter walked in fresh from moms, and still tripping on acid. He found Micky and Charlie on the “love couch”, and stood there and smiled at them for a moment, happy to see his two friends so in love. Then he quietly walked into his room for bed. He sat down, maybe a little embarrassed at what he had walked in on, but too happy for his friends to let it bother him, and it made him feel good to know that he was the one that had introduced them to each other.

“We really should do something about getting a little privacy in the pad.” he said out loud to no one. Then, he tried to go to sleep still high, with nothing but happy, loving thoughts of his friends in his head.