A deathly quiet loomed over the pad.  The storm had ended, and now it was time to see if all had survived the Nez wrath - especially Nez himself.  If this were a movie, a slow pan across the room would reveal only knocked-over furniture and blood on the hardwood floors, a visible reminder that the earlier tempest did indeed take place.

Peter got up enough nerve to open the door of his bedroom just an inch to take a quick peek outside.  What was most noticeable behind the silence was the absence of Mike.   With all seeming safe, Peter ventured out of his cocoon to wander the rest of the house, determined to find Mike, if he still existed.

Meanwhile, not far away on the beach, Davy lay still with a sleeping Micky in his arms.   They'd spent the whole night safely tucked away between the sheets of rock, but as the sun rose behind them, so did Davy's thoughts of escape, or redemption, or some way out of this mess that wouldn't get them both killed - what to do about Mike?   Surely he was alive and well, just waiting to snatch the life out of them both, with a good measure of satisfaction; just for fun, so the bastard could enjoy himself.   They couldn't risk standing still any longer, and in the daylight, Davy's original plan seemed less attractive, and his friend's house too dangerous a hiding place.   He'd have to come up with something else.

He bent down to the sleeping beauty in his arms for a light kiss on Micky's forehead; just enough to gently ease him out of sleep.  Micky's eyes blinked open to find Davy going through the pockets of his leather pants.

"Don't you carry any money with you when you go on dates?"  Davy asked, annoyed and in disbelief at his friend's carelessness.

"Mike never gives me money - besides, what would I spend it on?   I'm supposed to make money.   Why do you need money anyway?" 

"'Cause I've decided we need to go a lot farther than a few miles to get away from Mike."

"You said Mike was dead…you said Mike wouldn't be a problem…and that you could take care of him."

"I can take care of the situation - I'm not sure I can take care of a rifle-wielding redneck on the warpath.   I promised I'd keep ya safe, Micky, and that's what I'm gonna do, but we can't stay here in California, and we can't leave a trail to where we're goin', so we both gotta be careful - understand?"

"Uh-huh."

"'ow's your ass?"

"Ok, I guess.   Where are we going?"

"Don't worry.   Some place where Mike would never even look."

As Peter found his way upstairs and opened the forbidden door to Mike's lair, he was stopped cold by a shotgun aimed right between his eyes, just waiting for someone to have the nerve to cross the threshold.   Peter stared down the barrel that showed no sign of wavering.   On the other end was a stiff and angry Mike, ready to blow the intruder's head off if necessary.

"Whada' you want?"  Mike's question sounded deep, slow, and menacing, with an exaggerated Texan accent.

Peter tried to keep his cool; after all, he didn't want to blow his only chance after all the hard work to get to this point.   "Nothing, Mike," he said as he pointed his end of the gun to the side with one dainty finger.   "You don't wanna kill me.   Do ya, Mike?"

Mike stared long and hard through narrowed and untrusting slits at the nauseating blond in front of him.   'What does this fucking tramp want?  he asked himself.   'Doesn't he know I'm in no mood?'  He was up to something - Mike could smell it.   But maybe he could be of some help too.   He seemed to know something, but what?   And how to get it out of him?  But that would be easy, because this was Peter standing there; Peter, the cheap two-bit streetwalker who'd gladly blow ya for a buck.   No problem, Nez, just keep him in his place till he comes through.   Then blow his fucking brains out.   'Oh yeah, he's got no brains.'  He gave a visible smirk at his last thought.   Then said it again: "What do you want?"  This time meaner, losing patience and ready to pull the trigger out of the sheer joy of hearing it go off, maybe even hitting something, or someone.

Peter eased the door open a little wider while pushing the gun out of his way, giving him free passage into the room that was normally off limits to anyone but Micky.   Mike allowed it.   He was so astonished by the blond's balls that he was curious what he would do next before Mike killed him - he never took his cold stare off of Peter.   And as Peter stepped closer, Mike uncharacteristically stepped back, and allowed the blond bastard to take the gun from his hands and toss it on the bed.   Mike was intrigued by the audacity of the boring blond wimp; he had to see what it was going to lead to.

"I know what's bothering you, Michael.   He isn't worth it.   But if you want help, you know I'm always here for you."  Peter's steps brought him closer, inching in like a cat ready to pounce on his prey.   "Do you want me to help you find them, Michael?"  Ah, there it was, just as Mike had expected.   The piece of shit wants to play bottom bitch, now that he thinks he has something to offer.   What an asshole.

They were face to face, their noses almost touching.   Peter continued with a menacing whisper: "They don't deserve to live after what they've done to you…do they, Michael?"  He touched his lips to that full pouty mouth that, till now, were only touched by Micky; oh, how he'd dreamed of this for so long.  It was hard to keep his control.   "In the meantime, Michael, I can make you so happy."  He rubbed his hips against Mike's growing arousal and kissed him with a lustful hunger that had been hidden for too long.   His hands snuck around to Mike's ass, squeezing and pulling him into his own erection till Mike fell back onto the bed without a word of disapproval, only a small moan as Peter took control of relieving his hardness.   All that practice was about to pay off, as Peter slid down Mike's lean body, taking his faded jeans with him, licking and kissing and biting till he came to the hard pulsing cock waiting for his attention.   After marveling in its sheer beauty and size, Peter took him in his mouth and did what he did best.

He could taste the sweat, and blood, and heat left over from the fight, the musky smells arousing him more, making him want to taste every inch of flesh in the area.   He couldn't help noticing how big Mike's balls were, but certainly wasn't surprised - every aspect of 'big balls' suited Mike more than anyone he could think of, and it turned him on more to find the real proof behind the bravado.   He brought them into his mouth, pulling and sucking hard as if attempted to swallow both at once.   The intoxicating aromas led his tongue to the puckered opening just below.   His hands massaged and opened the lovely white cheeks to allow more exploration, as Mike's hips circled and ground back into Peter's face.   The quick wet licks encouraged the entrance to expand and invite whatever was willing to enter.   So Peter acquiesced, and slid his large self inside easily.   What luck, he thought to himself.   He'd never imagined Mike would even think about doing this, but apparently, he'd been doing it a lot.

Mike spread his legs as far as possible, wanting to take in the huge thing as deep as he could, and allowing Peter's hands to lift his hips higher for better reach.   He grabbed Peter's ass, forcing him further inside - just a little more - a little more! He couldn't remember when his ass had been so filled, big enough to reach every crucial spot.   He could see his own dick throbbing for release.   "Harder…harder!" he ordered.   Peter did his best, and plunged further with each thrust.   He was ready to come himself, but didn't dare until Mike had his turn.   Mike could see Peter's cock working him hard, disappearing inside his own ass with each long stroke.   "Faster…harder…" Mike could only get out the commands briefly with breathless warning in his voice.  "Don't stop!" he screamed loudly, followed by a long loud moan of pleasure…or pain - it all sounded the same when it came out of Mike.   His body tried desperately to keep the large hardness inside him for one last second, clamping down as if his life depended on it, but Peter couldn't hold on any longer and pumped in and out furiously to come deep inside the enveloping heat.   Mike groaned again when he felt the contractions deep inside and the warm fluid filling him.   He hadn't been fucked like that since high school; his only thought after landing back to reality.

When they were done, Peter fell to his knees on the floor in front of Mike, panting and feeling good while Mike sat up on the bed to look down at him.   He lifted his head with an index finger under the blond's chin and licked away the remnants of his high-flying shot onto Peter's face.

Peter knew better than to get up.   There on the floor, kneeling before Mike's feet was a good position to be in - Mike probably loves this shit, he thought, and he'd continue to play the obedient one, if that's what it took.

Miles away from nowhere, Davy and Micky found themselves stranded in the desert.   They had hitched a ride all the way from Los Angeles, to somewhere in the middle of Nevada with no means of getting anywhere else, fast.   Davy was beginning to have second thoughts about plan B, as he pushed Micky to walk along the dusty road with him.   The assholes that dropped them there thought it a laugh riot when they sped away without them.   And now it was getting dark again, and they would most likely freeze to death throughout the night.

They couldn't travel after the sun set; they couldn't even see the road anymore.   Nothing but blackness surrounded them, and the bright sparkling patterns of the stars above.

"Let's stop.   We can go on in the morning," Davy instructed, and Micky collapsed to the ground right where he stood the moment the permission was given.   Davy couldn't resist collapsing next to him in a heap of exhaustion.   He hoped they were off the road; the blackness of the night sky had drowned them so quickly that there was no time to find a place to camp.   As he looked behind him, Davy could make out the last bit of orange setting over Los Angeles - or maybe that was the smog.   It didn't matter.  Micky's black profile against that glowing backdrop was a beautiful sight.   He let his finger trace the dips and bumps of the face as he saw it.   "You have no profile, Micky," he said as his finger passed what was supposed to be a nose.

"What are you talking about?"

"You 'ave no nose.   Your profile looks like it's been smashed with a skillet."

"I have a profile."

"What you call this then?"  Davy ran his finger over Micky's nose again.

"That's my nose."

"No, you 'aven't got a nose.   This is a nose."  He explained as he proudly displayed his own chiseled profile.

"Leave me alone, Davy."

"I'm sorry, Micky.   I love your nose."  And he bent over to give it a gentle kiss on the tip.

Micky sighed.  "There's nothing but stars out here.   Look how clear they are.   They don't look like this back home."

"We should get some sleep, Micky.   We have a long way to go tomorrow."

"Look over there, Davy."

"The stars - I know."

"No, the desert is glowing…look."

Davy moved his tired body to look in the other direction.  "What the devil is that?"

And they both saw it: A dull white glow at the edge of what looked to be the horizon, and in the direction they had been walking, or so they thought.   The pitch blackness had made them lose their bearings and their sense of direction.

"Maybe we should go to it?"

"Are you daft?   We can't see anything.   How we gonna follow a light?"

"Same way you follow the stars when you're lost."

"A lot you'd know about that.   When have you ever had to follow the stars to get anywhere?   You lived your whole life in LA."

"I was in the Boy Scouts."

Davy found that amusing, "Really?   The Boy Scouts?"

"Yeah, what's so funny?"

"Ah…nothing."  And suddenly Davy found a whole new attractiveness to his boy in tow.   Just the words 'boy scout' were enough to get him hard, and he turned back to Micky with a deep soulful kiss that Micky instantly melted into as he was pushed onto his back.   "What you say we follow your glowing sand in the morning?"  Davy whispered between his kisses.   "Besides, It's too dark to do anything…except maybe fuck."

Micky was responding perfectly to Davy's touches.   He moaned as the tongue darted in and out of his mouth and then down his neck.   He became breathless when Davy playfully bit his erect nipple.   And he began to pant as Davy's hands found the hard pulsing mound under the leather, squeezing for a full hardness and more contact.   Then expertly peeled the layer of hide off to find the live burning flesh beneath.   It was like he was on fire - that's what it was.   When Micky was aroused, Davy swore his body temperature rose ten degrees.   He wanted inside that hot body, that intense heat he only felt with Micky.

He relieved himself of his own clothes quickly and snuck his way inside slowly and carefully, so as not to miss a moment of that first engulfing pleasure.   Slowly, deeper and deeper till there was nowhere left to go.   He shivered from the wonderful contrast of cool air on his back, and the warmth he was fighting to move his whole body in to.  While Micky writhed under him, Davy controlled his movements to last as long as possible - slowly inside like a blanket of wet heat, then out to the cool air.  And the next penetration would have to be faster this time, faster retreat into that tightness and heat, and holding that position a few more seconds while pushing further with all his strength, till fatigue forced him out again to the coolness.   "Not yet," he groaned to himself.   And he held on tightly to Micky's hips, pulling them to him harder and deeper.

Micky panted and moaned with every stroke waiting for the moment Davy would allow him to come.   Holding on for one more stroke pounding into that heavenly spot again and again.   With every breath came another groan, and with every groan from Micky's mouth came another shot of ecstasy through Davy's groin, each time climbing a bit further up his spine, till the sensation filled him completely and could be called an orgasm with nowhere left to go.   He shot his load, long and drawn out, into Micky and was rewarded with a shower of cum from his fuck buddy below.

Davy, out of breath and energy, fell onto Micky and they both drifted off to sleep without a word and in the same 'just fucked' position.   The only witnesses to their outdoor activity were the stars and the mysterious far-off white glow at the horizon.