The sun shone brightly through the bedroom window, to land on the sleeping face lying on the bed, and forced the slumbering eyes to slowly blink open.  His vision was blurred to a haze not only from the sun, but from the long sleep, and he tried in vain to see his surroundings clearly.  The room was bright, he could see that much, but the bed was in the wrong corner – he must be somewhere other than home.  A tall dark figure walked past the bed and closed the window blind, and the shade made it easier to focus his eyes.  “Where am I?”  he asked.

“Where are you?”  he heard a familiar voice answer, and the tall figure sat down on the bed next to him.  When his vision finally cleared, he found Mike staring at him waiting for a reply.  “How ya feelin’, Micky?”  Mike asked.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been out of it for a week – ya gotta be better by now.”

"Been outta what?”

“Outta everything, man.  Ya really had us worried there for a while.”

“What are you talking about?  Am I dead?”

“Not quite, babe.”  And Micky sat up and grabbed Mike by the arm.

“You’re real…this is all real?”  He jumped up in amazement.

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about, Mick?  Christ, you weren’t that bad.”

"What happened?  Was I sick?”

“Ah…yeah…you could say that – you don’t remember?”

“No!  What happened?”

Mike rolled his eyes, not really knowing how to explain the past week to his roommate, or if he even really wanted to.  “Well…its like ya said – you were sick.  Call it a…work injury.   We even had to waste money on a doctor, but you look fine now.”

“Wow Mike, I had the weirdest dream.”

“Yeah great, Mick.  You okay now?  ‘Cause I haven’t had any in a while.”

Micky lifted the blind and looked out the window.  “Holy shit!  I’m in California!”

“Where did ya think you were, ya fucking nut?”

“Mike…you wouldn’t believe what happened to me!”

“Uh-huh.  Look Mick, I’m real interested, but I’ve been through enough this week – gimme a break.”

“Oh…sure, Mike,” Micky said, disappointed that Mike wasn’t concerned enough to listen to his rambling.

“You getting outta bed now, or what?”

“Huh?”

“Ya gotta get back to work – Butch’s been askin’ for ya – guess Davy’s not his type.”

“Butch?”

“Yeah, but I get first crack at ya.”  And with a playful grin on his lips he leaned over Micky for a kiss.

Micky backed away with a very confused look on his face.  “What are you doing Mike?!”  he said, keeping a hand on Mike’s chest for an arms-length distance.

“Whadaya think I’m doin’?  I told you I was horny.”

“Mike!”

“What?”

“I’m…ah…not feelin’ too well.”  He hesitated.

“Oh, come on, Mick.  Really?”  Mike groaned.

“Yeah…I think I need some more rest,” was all Micky could come up with at the moment.

“Fine.  But I’ll be back later.”  Mike left the room, annoyed, and Micky sat on the bed dazed and bewildered at what just happened.  He looked at his surroundings again.  He was in the pad alright, back in California, though something didn’t seem quite right.  He remembered the bedroom being more colorful, but everything seemed kind of gray. And what about Mike?  What was that all about?  He had kissed him – why would he do that, and what was he going to do about it if it happened again?  It was just like in the dream.  Maybe it wasn’t a dream.  Maybe it was real, and this is a dream…but if it was real…then he’d be dead, and he couldn’t be dreaming if he were dead.  Or, maybe he was crazy, and it was all his imagination.  Whatever it was, he had to decide which, and soon because Mike was coming back, and god only knew what Mike had planned.  He tried to remember if he took his medication today.

“What?!  I’m not on medication.”  He said to no one.  “What the hell is going on?  Maybe I was abducted by aliens or something…or maybe Mike was!  Maybe if I go back to sleep, it’ll all go away.”  So that’s what he did, and he dreamed he was dead and had gone to hell – somewhere in L.A.

When he opened his eyes this time, Mike was sitting next to him with his arms crossed, staring at him.  “H…Hi Mike,” he said hesitantly.

“You awake now?”

“Um…yeah, I’m awake.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not waitin’ anymore.”  Mike said as he leaned in closer.

“Waiting for what, Mike?”  Micky backed away.

“You.”  And he kissed him with a weeks worth of unspent passion.

“Mike!  Stop!”  he said as he tried to push him away, but Mike grabbed his arms and held him down while he kept his mouth occupied with rough kisses.  “Please stop, Mike.”  And he continued to fight him as Mike started to pull off his clothes.

“Why should I stop?  You should be dyin’ for this.”  Mike said as he struggled to get Micky out of his clothes.

“I’m not – what are you talking about?  Stop – please, Mike.”  Mike was getting angry.  He quickly got up to rummage through the dresser drawer.  When he found what he was looking for he returned to the bed.

“Will this put you in the mood, babe?”  He threw a small paper bag on the bed, then sat down and opened it impatiently when Micky didn’t move, and emptied the contents onto the bed.  Micky recognized the white crystal powder from his dream.  He watched, stunned, as Mike prepared it for him.  “Is this what you want?”

“No.  Mike, what are you doing?  You don’t really want me to do that, do you?

“Whatever it takes, Mick.”

“Stop, Mike – I don’t want that.”

“Then what do you want?!”  Mike shouted, “We haven’t been together for over a week!  Now, suddenly you don’t wanna be with me anymore?!  What the fuck, Mick?  I’ve been sittin’ here everyday takin’ care of you and now you’re gonna act like this?!”

He took the drugs lying on the bed and placed it back in the bag.  Micky was surprised to see the hurt in Mike’s face as he got up from the bed to return the bag to its hidden home.  But he slammed the dresser drawer shut hard enough to topple over anything that was sitting on top, and then with one swipe of his arm sent all those objects flying across the room, his anger now exploding with frustration.  The sudden change in Mike’s demeanor was startling even for Micky.  He thought he knew his best friend better than anyone, but now Mike seemed like a stranger.

Mike turned back to him on the bed, his anger now directed fully at Micky, “I’ve had enough of this game – you’re gettin’ fucked tonight.”  And he went back to the bed to ravage his still unwilling roommate.

“No!  Mike, don’t!”  Micky screamed, but Mike wasn’t interested anymore, and he ripped the remaining clothing from Micky’s body.  When Micky realized his fighting was useless, he got in a lucky punch to Mike’s jaw – but it only urged on Mike’s anger.

Mike stood up and slapped Micky hard across the face, and Micky fell back onto the bed stunned with his head swimming.  Mike reached down to grab him by his shoulders and pulled him up to his height and looked at him in the eye.  His expression was cold when he explained it to Micky, “I don’t know what your problem is, but you better get over it fast, or you’re not gonna live long.”  He threw Micky back down on the bed, and turned to leave the room.

“Mike – I’m sorry.”  Mike stopped, wanting to give Micky a chance to redeem himself, but not wanting to show it; he turned around to face him.  “I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to hit you.  I just…I…I don’t…”

“You don’t what?”  Mike demanded, impatiently.

“I don’t understand.”  He couldn’t hold back his tears anymore, and Mike felt a little sorry for him.

“Which part don’t you understand?”  Those tears started to soften Mike’s mood.

“You…nothing…nothing makes any sense.”  He said as he covered his head with his hands.  “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Micky, we’ve been doin’ this for years”

“No.  That can’t be.  I don’t remember,” he cried, the confusion pounding his head.

“Great.”  Mike said, frustrated and a little hurt that Micky didn’t remember their relationship.  “Look, Mick, ya gotta snap outta this.  Pete and Davy are getting real tired of workin’ overtime” He walked back to the bed, sat down and put his arms around his friend.  He gave a long sigh, “Okay, what do you remember?”

“Well…we live in New York and…”

“No, we’ve always lived here.  You must’ve been dreamin’ about the eviction.”

“Yeah…we were evicted!  And we moved to the Village, and…”

“How did you know that?  We’ve only started talkin’ ‘bout it.”

“We can’t go, Mike!”

“Don’t worry, Mick.  Everything’s under control.”

“Mike…we’re not moving to New York…are we?”

“Calm down, Micky – it was just a dream.  You know I’ll take good care of you.”  Mike tried to reassure him as he leaned over to nibble his neck.  “I can make you feel better, Micky, if you’d just let me.”  He made his voice as soft as he could to match the kisses he was leaving along Micky’s jaw.

“No, Mike.”  Micky said in a weak voice, too weak to persuade Mike to stop what he was doing.  It wasn’t that Micky didn’t enjoy Mike’s affections, it was just a little confusing right now, and he would rather sort things out in his mind before he had to play lover to his best friend.  It all seemed so familiar.  Deja-vu all over again.  Mike’s touch could be so gentle when he tried; quite a contrast to his earlier attempt at lovemaking, and this felt so good, so much better than before, but it was all moving too fast.

Mike took it slowly with Micky; he certainly didn’t want to upset him anymore, at least until he fully recovered from his “illness”.  Whatever his problem was, he didn’t want to make it worse, but he didn’t want to deprive himself any longer either.  So, he kept his pace leisurely and his touch gentle, not his usual style, but it was better than nothing and it forced Micky to submit to Mike’s will.  Micky even started to relax as Mike traced one hand down Micky’s slender body with the lightest contact, till he came to the sensitive spot between his legs.

Micky could feel the warmth of his large hand resting heavily at his groin – taking ownership.  He allowed Mike his kisses without a fight as he felt himself grow under Mike’s hand, and he let out one spontaneous quiet moan.

Finally!  – A response, Mike thought to himself, and it drove him wild with passion.

Micky lay on the bed, helpless under Mike’s control, and enjoying it more than he was willing to admit to himself.  There was something about being with Mike that seemed so right, but he couldn’t put his finger on why.  He needed Mike’s attention right now, and craved his affection, though he didn’t understand the reasoning; it was better than having that temper aimed at him.  He gave up his fight without reluctance, and allowed his friend to lavish him with his sexual indulgence.  That big warm hand began to move, and it stroked him to a rock solid hardness, while Mike’s tongue mingled with his to feed both their passions.

Mike replaced his hand with his body, repositioning himself atop Micky and rubbing his own hardness into his.  He gently ground their bodies together, rocking slowly, but with force.  Within seconds Micky came hard onto his friend, and Mike slithered himself against him, The satisfaction he felt from Micky’s response became overwhelming, and he decided to let himself go rather than do what he had promised – there was plenty of time for fucking later, and he came quickly with a deep quiet groan.  “Oh god, I missed you,” he told Micky, with a kiss for emphasis.  “Ain’t no one can get me that hot.”  And he got up from the bed.  “Don’t move” he instructed, as he went to retrieve a towel.  Micky did what he was told, and Mike was back in the bed in a flash ready to clean up their mess.  He wiped away all signs of their lovemaking off of Micky’s body with slow luxurious strokes of a wet cloth and finishing the job with licks and kisses.  By the time he was done, Micky had fallen asleep.  Mike laid down next to him and held him close, happy to have his friend and lover back.

The next morning, Micky awoke wrapped in Mike’s arms.  He wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but it felt nice and it was an improvement over Mike’s temper.  He continued to struggle with his situation, trying to remember what his life was about, but couldn’t seem to grasp the difference between his dream and reality, and he hoped the haziness of his nightmare would disappear quickly.  Apparently, his life involved a relationship with Mike – but how far did that relationship go, and what else was expected of him?  He wanted desperately to find out, but didn’t know how to go about getting the information.  Mike wasn’t being very patient with him; maybe he should try Davy, or Peter?  He attempted to get out of the bed without waking Mike – no good, as soon as he sat up, he woke him.

Mike stretched his arms out.  “Mornin’, babe” he said.  Micky laid back down.

“Mike?”

“Yeah?”  Mike said while completing his stretch.

“How long have you and I been doin’ this?”

“I don’t know, Mick.  Why, is it our anniversary, or somethin’?”

“Huh?”

Mike raised himself on one arm and looked down at Micky, “Hey, are you ready to work today?”

“Yeah…I guess so.”

“Good – we really need the money.  I’ll call Butch.”  Mike leaped out of the bed to make his phone call.

“Who’s Butch?”

“Are you kidding?  Butch is only our best customer, and you’re his favorite piece of ass.”

“Whadaya mean?”

“Come on, Mick, ya don’t remember this either?”

“Well…what do I have to do?”

“Whatever he wants ya to do.  As long as he pays for it – who cares?”

“I care, Mike.  What is he gonna pay for?”

“I don’t know – you’ll find out when ya get there.”  Micky didn’t like the sound of what Mike was saying.  He jumped out of the bed to grab the phone away from Mike.  “What are ya doing?”

“I don’t think I’m ready for this, Mike.”

“Sure ya are, Mick.  You probably won’t have to do anything anyway.”

“What does that mean?”

“Butch usually likes to do all the work – it’s like getin’ paid for doin’ nothin’.”  He took the phone back and redialed the number.  Micky backed away and went to sit on the bed while Mike made his call.  He felt his stomach twist into knots as he thought about what he might encounter at “work”.  The only Butch he knew of was from his dream, and he belonged to Davy.  He wondered what the real Butch was like, and what he would ask him to do – or worse, what Butch would do to him.  There must be a way to talk Mike out of this.  “You’re all set, babe – eight o’-clock tonight.”

“Mike?”

“Yeah” Mike went through Micky’s clothes to pick out his evening’s attire.

“I don’t feel very well.”

“Nonsense, Mick – you’re fine.”  He said, as he threw clothes onto the bed.

“Mike?  Are we still a band?”

“What?  Yeah, we’re still a band.”

“Then why do I have to work?”

“Because the last time we had a payin’ gig, the moon turned blue.  Stop worrin’, will ya – you’re a real pro.”

Oh god, a pro at what?  He thought, but he was starting to get the idea – what else could it be?

Mike sat on the bed next to him to give him a kiss.  “You okay?”  Micky nodded.  Mike seemed to care about him – that was obvious.  He wouldn’t let Micky do anything that would hurt him – would he?  He tried to relax and accept Mike’s comforting – or was it just sex he was after?  It seemed Mike had quite an appetite.  He wouldn’t stop kissing him, and when Micky tried to pull away, he grabbed a fistful of curls to hold his head in place.

The longer he stayed in this new reality, the more confused he was getting, and he wished he could go back to sleep forever.  Only problem was, that alternate universe wasn’t any better.  So, he decided to play along – he had no choice – he was a prisoner of his own reality.

“Mike, am I on medication?”

“Yeah – you’re on medication alright.”

“I am?  I think I need it.”

“Sure thing, babe.”  Mike left the bed, and Micky laid down to wait for his pills.  He felt himself starting to drift off.  Why was he so sleepy lately?  Maybe that’s all he needed: his medication.  Why was Mike taking so long to get a few pills and a glass of water?  He probably hadn’t had any in days – that should put everything straight in his mind.  Finally, he returned.  Micky didn’t open his eyes, but he could feel the warmth of Mike’s body beside him and his weight on the bed.  When he felt something tight go around his arm he looked over at Mike.

“What are you doing, Mike?”

“Givin’ you your ‘medication’.”

“I don’t want that!”

“Just relax, Mick – Doctor Mike’ll take good care of ya.”  And before he knew it, that familiar numbness hit his brain and he did indeed feel much better.  His reality hadn’t changed, but he didn’t care anymore, and all he wanted was Mike doing what he did to him last night.

He got his wish – Mike was eager for an afternoon romp in the sack, especially when Micky was high on heroin, he could fuck for hours.  So, Mike fixed himself up, and they spent the whole afternoon in bed together, kissing and caressing.  Then a short nap only to be aroused by more of the same, with Mike’s wonderfully soft mouth exploring Micky’s flawless flesh, always ending between his legs for one of Mike’s splendid blowjobs.  Mike wanted so badly to bask inside the warmth of that slender body, but decided it would be better not to upset Micky before his first day back to work.  Instead, he tried to get Micky in the mood for his evening with Butch.