Let the Music Play - 11. Wild Wild Night

Günter glanced up from his conversation to see Brandon, cape drawn back framing his bare chest, approaching. Without being asked, he knew it was time to go. “I’ll have the car out front within five minutes.”

Baffled at how Günter had known, Brandon nodded before turning, spotting Chase across the room. For the hundredth time that night, Brandon felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of his friend, his tanned and toned body on near full display, his blond hair a perfect contrast to his deep, golden tan. Chase turned slightly while engaged in an animated conversation with an older woman, giving Brandon the chance to admire the sweep of his legs from the side, the long, alluring expanse of tan skin interrupted only by the narrow strap of his brief leather loincloth.

“I see from that look that you know how lucky you are, how lucky you both are,” Jerry said, looking in Chase’s direction with an approving nod.

Startled by Jerry’s sudden appearance, and the awkward implication of his words, Brandon replied, “Uh, we’re not actually a couple...”

Arching an eyebrow, Jerry turned to face Brandon. “That surprises me; you both act like a couple.”

With an uneasy chuckle, Brandon decided to confide in Jerry. “I know I’ve got feelings for him, and I think he does for me, too.”

“Then, my boy, you need to follow your heart. You two could have something quite wonderful together; don’t let anxiety or fear deprive you both of happiness. Fortune favors the bold, my boy, fortune favors the bold. Spend some time alone with him and see what happens. I quite doubt that either of you will be disappointed.”

Blushing, Brandon returned his gaze to Chase as he said, “The last time we were alone, we almost kissed, but we were interrupted.”

“So you have nothing to worry about then. Just be open, don’t hide your feelings.”

Resolving to do exactly that – preferably by picking up where they’d left off the first chance he got – Brandon thanked Jerry and walked across the room towards Chase.

Seeing his friend approach, Chase chewed on his lip, taking in the sight of Brandon in the tight leather pants, his bare chest accentuated by the flowing black cape. Chase knew that Brandon had noticed the look, but he didn’t mind and didn’t hurry, as he ran his gaze slowly up Brandon’s body, only to meet his smiling eyes with a lopsided grin of his own as he caught Brandon’s own roaming eyes. There was something there, he knew that now; something much more than friendship, or mere lust.

“Günter said he’d bring the limo around front,” Brandon said, unable to take his eyes off Chase.

“Okay, now all we have to do is round up Jon and Eric.”

Setting off together, they found their quarry near the buffet table, stuffing their faces while surrounded by the three admiring Vestal Virgins. Upon being told that their ride was ready, Jon said to Brandon in a hushed voice, “We’ll be right there; just give us a minute.”

“Thank you so much for coming. The evening was a major success and we’ve raised in excess of a hundred thousand dollars.” Jerry said, catching up to Brandon and Chase just before they climbed into the limo.

“Sorry about the trouble tonight,” replied Brandon, as he suddenly realized what he could do, “I’ll have Helen send you three thousand from my account, but it’s from all of us.”

Jerry smiled, “That would be very much appreciated. Thank you both, and have yourselves a wonderful, bubbly evening.”

As their host strolled towards his house, Chase sat down beside Brandon in the Limo. “You didn’t have to do that, you don’t have very much left..., and why did he say ‘bubbly evening’? He’s a little flame-ish, but that was just strange.”

“Oh, I think I did need to do that, and maybe more...” Brandon mumbled as he stared out the open door past Günter, at the bushes along the side of Jerry’s house. “Look.”

Once Jerry was out of sight, Jon edged out of the bushes, motioning for Eric and the girls to follow as he began to trot across the lawn. As one large giggling mass, they piled into the limo as Jon called out to Günter with a laugh, “Home, James!”

Squeezing in around Jon and Eric, the three Vestal Virgins laughed and giggled while Eric passed around a bottle of vodka. Eric and Jon each took a drink before handing the bottle around, as Günter turned out of the driveway, heading back the way they’d come.

Eric cranked up the passenger compartment’s stereo, loud enough to kill any chance of conversation, as the bottle of vodka, joined by the bottle of scotch, made a few more rounds.

By the time they neared their hotel, Jon, Eric, and their three female companions were drunk, and Eric was standing in the sunroof, screaming at the top of their lungs as they cruised through the thick midnight traffic on Wilshire Boulevard. Brandon and Chase had passed on a few rounds, though they’d had enough to catch a good buzz.

Laughing and clowning around, they all piled out in front of the hotel, drawing far too much attention for Günter’s liking. Chase was the last out, and Günter, remembering an earlier hurried request by Helen, handed him a manila envelope. “From your manager,” he said with a smile.

Eric charged on ahead into the lobby with the three girls in tow, as Jon hung back, pulling Brandon through the hotel door to ask in a hushed, slightly slurred voice, “Dude, buddy, you can see what me and Eric have going here, right? We need some privacy. So, could you go crash with Chase, just for tonight? He won’t mind, trust me...”

Before Brandon could say a word, Jon dashed towards the elevator, joining up with Eric and the three girls, just as one of the girls let Eric pull her into a frenzied kiss, right before the elevator opened.

While Brandon watched the five piling into the elevator, Chase entered the lobby with Günter. Rolling his eyes at the departing elevator, Günter wished the two a good night and returned to the limo. Walking side by side with Chase to the elevator, Brandon noticed the manila envelope clutched under his arm. Raising an inquiring eyebrow as Chase hit the call button, Brandon was surprised by Chase’s coy reply, “You’ll see.”

Once the door closed, Brandon said, “Mind if I crash on your sofa? Jon asked me to clear out for the night because they need privacy, and from the look of it I guess they do.”

Chase was puzzled by Brandon’s inquiry; usually, Jon and Eric would just take their girls-of-the-moment into a bedroom regardless of who else might be there. He hid a grin as he guessed the real intent behind his brothers’ unprecedented request for privacy, and replied, “Sure, you don’t need to ask.”

Stepping out into the hallway on their floor, they caught sight of the others entering Eric’s middle suite. Jon hung back to shout down the hall, “You guys got a key?”

Chase shook his head, patting his loincloth, “No pockets bro.”

“I’ll open your door for ya,” Jon replied, before entering Eric’s suite, closing the door behind him.

By the time Chase and Brandon arrived at Chase’s door, Jon had it open from the inside. He gave them both a wicked grin, “Have fun. I know I will,” before heading back into the suite.

Entering Chase’s suite to the sound of the connecting door locking from the far side, Brandon said as he closed the hallway door, “He’s in a hurry.”

“I hope they didn’t shock you tonight, but that’s the way they get when they let off steam. This happens about once every week or two on average, but more when we’re on the road.”

Glancing towards the closed connecting door, Brandon said, “I gotta ask... three?”

Pulling off his feather necklace, Chase laughed, “Yeah. That’s a little wild even for them, but it’s not the first time, and not even the record. My guess is Jon will take two and Eric one, or maybe the other way around. Hey, what’s this?” asked Chase, as he pointed at the bucket on a table, “Whoa, champagne.”

Stepping over to read the card he’d spotted, Brandon handed it to Chase. “It’s from Jerry.”

“Now I know what he meant by that ‘bubbly evening’ remark. That guy is a class act.”

Remembering Jerry’s words, and the likely intent of the gift, Brandon promised himself that he wouldn’t let this opportunity slip by. Untying his cape and tossing it on a chair along with his mask, he said, “Let’s open it and enjoy. There’s bound to be some good movies on the hotel’s TV.”

After popping open the bottle and pouring them each a glass, Brandon flicked on the TV scanning through the channels until he spotted a classic, “How about a western? You’re sure dressed for the part,” he said as he gave Chase a long, admiring look.

Chase took a few seconds to watch the images in the big-screen TV. “Cool, I don’t think I’ve seen this one before,” he said, as he remembered Helen’s interruption and eased the connecting door on his side closed and locked it. Kicking off his moccasins, he padded over to the couch. Taking his cue from Chase, Brandon pulled off his own shoes and socks before raiding the mini-bar for a couple of bags of corn chips. Stripped down to just the leather pants, he took a seat beside Chase, their bare shoulders touching, as he handed Chase a bag of chips.

Stretching out and kicking his feet up on a footstool, Brandon let his shoulders slide down a little, mainly to straighten out his body and get a little more comfortable in the tight leather pants. He briefly considered borrowing a pair of shorts from Chase, but the realization that Chase would likely change out of the loincloth deterred him from that course. He let his shoulder ease over against his friend’s side, enjoying the skin-on-skin contact, relieved that Chase didn’t seem to mind.

Barely paying attention to the movie, he noticed the manila envelope on the side table next to Chase. “When are you going to tell me what’s in the envelope?” he asked with a smile.

Picking up the envelope, chewing his lip as his nervousness returned, Chase flipped it open. Sliding the folded poster out, he handed it to Brandon, “Just something for my wall...”

Unfolding the poster, Brandon came face to face with his own image; a shot of him standing in the pool with sunglasses on, his bare chest puffed out, in what even he had to admit was a very sexy pose. With a knowing smile growing on his face, he said, “Cool, now I can put the one of you back up.”

Relaxing a little, Chase leaned over a little more, feeling Brandon’s muscles tense and shift as he stretched to put the poster on a side table.

Turning his head to stare up into Chase’s blue eyes, the movie forgotten by them both, Brandon wrestled with his nerves. “I wish Helen hadn’t interrupted us the other day,”

Letting his eyes wander down Brandon’s bare torso, Chase replied, “There’s a lot to be said for picking up where we left off...” as he slowly, though without hesitation, twisted towards Brandon, bringing his right hand to rest on Brandon’s warm abs.

Shifting his gaze between Chase’s hand and blue eyes, Brandon cradled Chase’s hand in his own, fitting his fingers on top as he had before, feeling the warmth and the tingle as Chase began to trace the ridges of hard muscle.

Brandon felt his breath catch as he trembled, the sensation of Chase’s gentle touch making his body tingle, as Chase leaned closer, intent on his task. A soft sigh escaped Brandon’s lips, as his hand took leave from Chase’s, reaching across his own body to trace his fingers down the ridges of Chase’s side. “That’s perfect...” he heard himself whisper.

Running his hand slowly upwards, Chase brought it to a gentle stop in the center of Brandon’s chest, and feeling the faint but rapid rhythm, he leaned closer, squinting his eyes slightly to whisper, “I can feel your heartbeat.”

From his almost prone position, aching for more, Brandon looked up at Chase, fighting the desire to sit up, not wanting to interrupt their moment in spite of his tingling lips. Without forethought, the words spilled from his heart, “c’mere, you...”

Chase slid down to lay next to Brandon, angling his head and letting his hair fall across his eyes. Rolling to face Chase and missing those two blue orbs, wanting to look into them again and forever, Brandon brought his hand up, brushing Chase’s hair back with the gentlest of touches.

  * * *

Again, Brandon leaned closer, seeking what he’d so long craved. Again, the space between them faded into nothing, and this time, there was no one to interrupt. Their lips brushed for the briefest of moments as Brandon angled his head, running his tongue along Chase’s lips in an unspoken request, all the louder for its silence.

With a tremble and a sigh, Chase relaxed, molding his body to Brandon’s, delighting in the feel of the strong, gentle hand on his shoulder, and the lips against his own. Feeling Brandon’s tongue, Chase granted it what it sought, opening his mouth slightly, running his own tongue along Brandon’s, as their lips pressed together.

Reveling in the feel of Chase, the faint taste of cinnamon from his mouth, the soft aroma of strawberries from his hair, Brandon felt Chase’s fingers tracing circles on his back and sides, raising goosebumps along with a tremble of pleasure.

Lost in the kiss, clutching at Brandon’s back, feeling his muscles tense and shift, pulling him closer, Chase was surprised at how comfortable he was; it just felt right.

Deepening the kiss, Brandon drew his hand down Chase’s side, feeling a joy mixed with relief as he discovered without words that his feelings were mirrored; he no longer had to hide how he felt. What he’d wanted for so long was his at last, and the feeling was better than he’d ever dared dream.

Unbidden, the memory of something he’d read long ago returned, ‘Dreams may die the hardest deaths of all, though when the fickle hand of fate grants them substance, they outshine the very stars above...’ Brandon had never grasped the meaning behind those words, until that moment...

* * *

“Look, Vladimir, kangaroos.” exclaimed Dimitri with a touch of wonder in his voice, as he piloted the Land Rover across the scrubby rolling plains.

Gazing with interest at the oddly serene creatures, the engineer replied, “I see them... They are larger than I thought. What unusual animals they have here. I’ve seen some very exotic birds, too. However, I doubt you have chosen this area for the wildlife.”

Dimitri chuckled, “It is a compromise of convenience. We needed a remote location, but also the resources of a modern, industrialized society. There were other reasons, too, though I cannot discuss them now.”

“What, precisely, can you tell me? I need to know some things soon, such as what I will have to work with?”

“You will have a lens-grinding facility, a machine-shop, and a clean room, all as you specified. Australia has quite an influx of people coming in illegally, so we were even able to arrange skilled operators and machinists, including some gunsmiths, for your needs. They were offered a deal; transport to Australia and enough funds to establish themselves here, in return for three month’s work and total secrecy. They will, of course, be kept isolated at our compound.”

The engineer gave a wan smile, “I assume, of course, that their long-term silence will be utterly guaranteed.”

With a smile of his own, one that did not chill the engineer, though it should have, Dimitri replied, “Yes, Vladimir, their silence will never be in doubt. We cannot take the risk that one of them may expose us. As it stands, we will keep their numbers to a bare minimum. Our first task, of course, is to pay a visit to the lens-grinding facility. Our employer is the new owner; he arranged the purchase via a corporate liquidation, so there are no current employees with which to concern ourselves. It will also be our assembly facility. The machine-shops will be at our compound in the outback, approximately two hundred miles to the west; that way we can keep our workers isolated. You will need a technician or two during the final assembly, but other than that, you will need to do it alone, aside from whatever assistance I can be to you.”

After two hours behind the wheel as they headed west from Brisbane, Dimitri consulted his GPS, confirming that the city they were entering was, indeed, Toowoomba, as the many signs proudly proclaimed. A few more blocks of largely open space flashed by, before he turned sharply into a half-completed industrial park, snaking his way to the back, and turning onto a long driveway. The building itself, set well back from the road behind a line of eucalyptus trees, was as private as they could have hoped to find. Sheet-metal construction, drab with very few windows, it was a typical modern factory in form and in this case, appearance was not deceiving.

Typing in the code, Dimitri breathed a sigh of relief as the security system disarmed. They entered through a small hallway, one which the engineer noted approvingly served as a dust barrier, before entering the factory itself. Flicking on the lights, they stood in the eerie, deafening silence for a few moments. The windowless room, thirty feet wide by fifty long, played host to dozens of covered machines arrayed along the walls. The engineer’s first act was to run a finger along a bare workbench. Inspecting his digit for dust, he remarked, “Not bad, not bad at all. Dust of any sort will be our greatest enemy, so we must install a positive-pressurization system and filtration capable of removing any particles larger than a single micron. Will we be living nearby?”

Dimitri nodded, “We will be living at the far end of the building; the lease on the site allows this, and we have converted some small offices to improvised accommodations. It is basic, far from luxurious, but we will only be here for a few months.”

The engineer opened his notebook, and without a word began a close inspection of the various machines, even powering up a few of the larger computer-controlled lens-grinding units. “What about freezing? We will need a source of liquid nitrogen.”

“Yes Vladimir, we paid careful attention to all your stated needs. Everything you have asked for has been arranged. Now, I will leave you to your inspection, as I need to run a few errands. The machinists and other technicians will be arriving in two days and I need to provision the compound with food for when they arrive. We’ll be driving there in the morning.”

“I hope we see more kangaroos,” the engineer muttered half to himself as he resumed his detailed inspection.

* * *

Coming up for air, Brandon broke the kiss, pulling Chase in tight for a hug, whispering when at last he could, “Now that was worth waiting for...”

Chase didn’t reply; he didn’t need to. He traced his fingers down Brandon’s side and leaned in, intent on resuming the kiss. As their lips touched again, a sudden crash sounded through the wall, followed by muffled, distant laugher. Turning his head to stare at the wall, Chase muttered, “Sounds like Eric and Jon are getting kind of crazy. Wouldn’t be the first time they’ve wrecked a hotel room.”

Playing with Chase’s hair, Brandon glanced at the adjoining door, “They sure seemed wild tonight. First the mess at Jerry’s, then three girls...”

“They’ve always been like that. It’s rare for either of them to have a second date. Hell, Eric had his first time in a hotel room with some groupies; he said he wanted it to be special, so he took three girls to bed, all at once. Jon’s the same; I’ve seen him do that too.”

His expression becoming a little wistful, Brandon remembered his own past as he said, “Yeah, not my idea of fun, or of a good first time, but whatever floats your boat, I guess.”

As his fingers slowly explored Brandon’s chest, Chase asked, “What was your first time like?”

“No more special than Eric’s, I guess, maybe even less. I was at a party, had a little too much to drink, and ended up getting cozy with a guy who was flirting with me. I let him give me a blowjob and as soon as it was over, he split. I never even knew his name. How about you?” Brandon asked, instantly regretting his words as he remembered what little he knew of Chase’s history.

With a wry shake of his head, accompanied by a faint reddening of his cheeks, Chase answered, “Hasn’t happened yet. I’ve never done more than kiss. Living like we do, I didn’t have many chances other than for one-night-stands.”

Brandon squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as his conscience fought his raging hormones. Managing to defer his instincts, he leaned forward, tracing the tip of his tongue slowly around the outer edge of Chase’s ear, making him shudder and sigh, pausing only long enough to whisper, “First times should be special; you’ll know when it’s right.”

Brandon’s hand, caressing Chase’s shoulder, felt the tension ebb as Chase’s muscles relaxed. Instantly, he knew he’d made the right choice; Chase had been tense and now he wasn’t. Brandon eased back to stare into those mesmerizing blue eyes as Chase asked, “You’re willing to wait?”

Replying with a kiss, Brandon pulled Chase in tight, feeling no resistance, no hesitation as their tongues danced and their bodies nestled together. Chase’s hands sliding down his torso made Brandon quiver, before they came to rest on his hips. Feeling his lips suddenly alone, Brandon gazed again at the handsome face and disheveled hair as Chase said in a low, seductive tone, “Just so you know, it won’t be a long wait. I turn eighteen next week and no way in hell do I want to be an eighteen-year-old virgin.”

“I can think of a way to save you from that horrible fate,” Brandon chuckled, stopping as he locked eyes with Chase, his voice lowering to say, “I’m just happy we are doing what we’re doing right now. I’ve wanted to, ever since we first met.”

Brandon felt Chase’s hand running through his hair while Chase’s lips again sought his, as they both burned for each other’s touch and taste.

* * *

A few hours later, Eric emerged from his bedroom in his underwear with a giggling blond girl in tow. Stumbling into the main room of his suite, he spied his target; the bottle of whisky perched on the coffee table, next to the empty bottle of Vodka. Falling into an overstuffed chair, a sated look on his smiling face, Eric offered the bottle to his girl before taking a big swig himself.

The sound of footsteps caused him to glance around, to see his brother, his boxers sagging low, with two girls in tow and an ear-to-ear grin, coming into the suite.

Handing Jon the bottle, Eric laughed, “Have fun, bro?”

Plopping down on the sofa, a barely-clad girl on either side, Jon accepted the bottle. “Oh, yeah, we had a great time,” he said with a satisfied smile, handing the bottle to each of his girls in turn, “Thank you, ladies.”

Making small talk for a while, studiously ignoring the smashed glass table on the far side of the room, the five became aware of the first light of dawn lighting the smoggy skies beyond the windows.

Stepping out onto the balcony, they listened to the muted sounds of car horns from the traffic jam far below, as one of Jon’s bedmates spied Chase’s hot tub on the neighboring balcony. With a pout, she observed, “Too bad you guys don’t have one of those. We could have a lot of fun.”

Taking another pull on the whiskey, his buzz returning, Jon said with a shrug, “That’s Chase’s suite. He was kinda... occupied last night.”

Batting her eyes, “I thought Brandon and Chase were alone...why would they mind some company? We could all watch the sun come up from the hot tub,” the girl replied, rubbing her hand on the front of Jon’s boxer-briefs to make her point even more obvious.

“I wonder if they’re up yet, and, uh, decent...” asked Jon as he looked at Eric.

Catching the unspoken part of the question, Eric slipped inside, only to find the connecting door on Chase’s side locked. Turning to return to the balcony, he found his brother coming in alone and said, “It’s locked. Maybe they finally did something.”

Jon stared at the locked door for a moment, “Yeah, could be, but sure as hell they’re done by now, and what’s-her-name wants to use the hot tub. I don’t know about you but I could sure go for another round; those girls are hot.”

Breaking into a wicked grin, Eric grabbed the whiskey bottle, took a long chug, and croaked, “I got an idea, come on,” before making a beeline for his bathroom.

Entering the bathroom, Jon found his brother staring with evil intent at a makeup mirror. Eric pulled at it, swiveling it away from the wall on its movable arm, extending the scissoring metal contraption to leave the mirror a few feet from the wall as he swiveled its head.

“We don’t have a screwdriver,” Jon observed.

“We don’t need no stinking screwdrivers,” Eric said with a maniacal laugh as he gave the mirror a fierce pull, ripping its mount completely off the wall after a few tries. With his prize in hand, Eric padded back to the balcony.

Leaning over the railing, Eric stretched out the mirror’s arm as far as it would go, then withdrew it, bent the arm slightly to get the right angle on the mirror, before leaning over the railing again. Stretching over the yawning chasm, oblivious to over twenty stories of empty space below, Eric grumbled, “Almost there. Hold onto me, Jon.”

With his brother’s arms around his waist, Eric scrambled up onto a chair before leaning out again, one hand on the top railing, the other holding the mirror, his bare back towards the building across the street, which happened to be a hotel much like their own.

* * *

Nestled up against Brandon’s side, Chase woke to see disarranged hair atop a beautiful face, ‘now this is a great way to wake up,’ he thought. Glancing down Brandon’s exposed chest, to the sheet he’d draped around them after Brandon had fallen asleep, he smiled, remembering the events of the night. A glitter at the edge of his vision intruded on his happy moment, as he turned his head to look for its source. Peering out through his balcony doors, his eyes opened wide in shock as he saw a mirror bobbing and weaving just beyond the glass. Knowing in an instant that one or both of his brothers had to be on the other end and unwilling to interrupt Brandon’s peaceful slumber, he bit back a cry of exasperation. His left arm was wrapped around Brandon but his right was free, so he angled his arm in the direction of the mirror, raising his middle finger, accompanied by an angry glare.

* * *

Eric yanked the mirror back a little too quickly, losing his precarious footing, saved from a lethal plunge only by Jon’s firm hold. Jon let go once his brother planted both feet safely on the balcony deck, as Eric, swaying a little, slurred, “We hadn’t better bother ‘em. They’re on the couch together, curled up, covered by a sheet but Brandon’s pants and Chase’s loincloth are right beside ‘em, so it looks like they finally did it. Chase is awake; he saw me and flipped me off, I think he’s pissed...”

With a slurred laugh, Jon let out a whoop, “It’s about time they did it...”

The girl Eric had slept with gasped, “They did it? But they’re both guys,” as it finally dawned on Eric just what they’d done.

His mind dulled by alcohol, Jon hadn’t understood in time to stop his brother or himself, but his gut clenched as he understood the meaning behind the girl’s question. Desperately trying to figure out some way to explain, he blurted, “Eric’s just funning with ya. Those guys are just friends, really,” he said, his attempt sounding lame even to him.

“Uh huh, sure they are,” said one of Jon’s girls with a sarcastic laugh, “I was wondering why Brandon didn’t want to play last night, but I guess we know now, right girls?”

The other two nodded as Jon and Eric looked at each other, suddenly feeling decidedly nauseous.

Frantically changing the subject, Eric said, “Hey, look at that sunrise. Damn, smog sucks but it sure makes for pretty sunrises and sunsets, don’t it?”

The girls acceded to the subject change, though Jon and Eric spotted the knowing glances they exchanged amongst themselves. Heading back inside, they sat back down, pouring a few more drinks as they tried to forget what had just happened.

Waking up several hours later, his head pounding, Jon stifled a groan as he remembered the events on the balcony. The girls were, unlike Eric, awake, but showing no signs of leaving. Falling back on the tried and true, Jon slipped into his suite, picked up the phone, and dialed Chase’s room. As soon as his brother answered, Jon whispered, “Plan B, five minutes,” and hung up before Chase had a chance to reply.

* * *

Hanging up the phone as Brandon sat up beside him, rubbing his eyes, Chase said softly, “Sorry, that was Jon. You can go back to sleep if you want.”

“I like waking up like this,” Brandon murmured, giving Chase a one-armed hug, “It’s probably time I was up anyway. We’ve got a lot of work to do today.”

With a derisive laugh, Chase replied, “No chance of that. Jon and Eric have been drinking all night, they’ll have the king of all hangovers. I’ve gotta make a phone call for Jon, hang on...”

Raising a sleepy eyebrow, Brandon listened as Chase rang the front desk to say, “Could you please have a cab ready, and send a doorman up to the middle suite. Have him say ‘Your mother is on her way up’ and make sure he’s loud enough so everyone in the room hears him, okay? Thanks.”

Hanging up with a sigh, Chase explained, “Whenever Jon and Eric want to ditch their overnight guests, they have Plan A, Plan B, and Plan C. You just heard Plan B. Plan A is I tell everyone there’s an appointment with a lawyer or something, and Plan C is I act like I’m getting really sick. I guess they went with Plan B because I’m not in the room this time.”

With a puzzled look, Brandon asked, “In the room? I guess they are cool with you being around because you’re their brother?”

Rolling over to hug Brandon with both arms, Chase replied with a chuckle, “Nah, that’s not why. They usually just hightail it for their bedrooms when they want to screw; they don’t much care who’s in the main room. They’ve even done it around Helen. I’m pretty sure their privacy spiel was because they just wanted us to be alone together.”

“That,” Brandon laughed as he returned the hug, “would explain a lot. Eric busted me about how I felt not long after I met you guys and Jon gave me the third-degree when we were playing handball.”

“They knew? For that long? Damn it, why didn’t they just tell me?”

“I made ‘em promise not to,” Brandon replied, before adding, “Same with Helen. She read me like a book the day we went to Rodeo Drive.”

Rolling back against the couch, looking up at the ceiling, Chase giggled, “I made ‘em promise too. Helen busted me big-time about it the day we went to Rodeo.”

“You mean... you felt the same way all along? Damn, were we the only ones who didn’t know?”

Chase laughed, “Looks that way to me. Hey, what did you mean when you said Jon gave you the third degree? He quizzed me a little when we played handball too. I kinda wondered what was going on when Eric paired you and Jon up, but I had no idea that was what they were up to.”

“He just grilled me to make sure I wasn’t after some one-night-stand. Just being a big brother, I guess; he didn’t want to see you get hurt...”

His eyes narrowing as his face took on a less-than-amused expression, Chase muttered, “Jon went too damn far...”

Giving Chase a hug and nuzzling his neck, Brandon replied, “He was just being protective. Same with Eric I think, but Eric has been pushing me to talk to you all along.”

Leaving his comfortable spot next to Brandon, Chase got up, retrieving a couple of pairs of running shorts from his closet and tossing a pair to Brandon. They both gave each other open, admiring glances as they pulled the shorts on over their briefs. “I heard the door open and close a couple of times, so the girls are probably gone. Feel like rattling a couple of hung-over meddlers?” Chase asked with an evil smile.

“Lead the way.”

Chase unlocked and opened the connecting door, finding the opposite one wide open as he heard Jon’s bleary voice and caught the end of his sentence, “–hope not, but I don’t know. If gays weren’t so damn promiscuous, I’d feel I could trust ‘em, but that’s the way they are, so Brandon might screw Chase over and then the band is fucked... That’s why I wanted to keep those two apart...”

Motioning for a fuming Brandon to be quiet, Chase crept into the suite, approaching his brothers from behind as they sat on the couch, each with a hand to their head, as Eric muttered, “I don’t think Brandon’s like that... Damn, my head hurts; I hope the aspirin kicks in soon.”

His tempter flaring, Chase slugged Jon in the shoulder as he stormed past the end of the couch, rounding on his eldest brother at full volume, “You asshole. You meddling, hypocritical asshole. First you give him the third degree, then you say that shit about gays being promiscuous after what you two did last night? Which one of you had two chicks this time?”

Cringing from the noise, edging to the far end of the couch, Eric flicked a thumb at Jon as Chase upped the volume, “You and your fucking plans A, B, and C, you’ve got the fucking nerve to say gays are promiscuous and that’s why you don’t trust them? I got news for you, asshole, I’m one of them. I’ve got even more news for you, Brandons’ right behind you and he heard every fucking word.”

His eyes opening wide, Jon snapped his head around far too fast, spotting a glowering Brandon in the doorway staring back at him, just as his tender head began to pound from the sudden movement. “Oww,” whimpered Jon as he clenched his eyes shut in pain.

An idea coming to mind, Chase walked with purpose back to his suite, nodding for Brandon to follow. Chase made a beeline for his closet as Brandon hurried to keep up, saying, “I hope you know I’m not like that...”

Whipping his head around, Chase said, “I know that. Last night proved that beyond any doubt, not that anything needed proving. Jon is so full of shit...” Chase reached his closet, diving for the back, grabbing a medium-sized drum along with a set of sticks, before rushing past a puzzled Brandon. “Follow me, and get ready for one loud drum solo that Jon will never forget,” Chase said in a hushed and angry voice as he hurried back to his brother’s suite.

Eric, still reeling from the painful noise of Chase’s yelling, glanced around just in time to see his brother reenter the room. His eyes opened wide in fear as he saw what was in his brother’s hands, and he staggered to his feet, intent on reaching the safety of Jon’s suite before it was too late, staggering away with a fearful “No...”

Watching the retreating Eric in puzzlement, Jon never saw Chase rest the drum on the back of the couch, right behind his tender head, nor Chase’s look of fury as he slipped the sticks into his hands and put a lot of muscle into the first downswing.

Falling forward as waves of blinding pain exploded through his tender head, Jon rolled up in a ball on the floor, his stomach beginning to heave, as Chase paused only long enough to move the drum closer to his writhing brother before pounding out a cacophonous rapid-fire beat.

“Stop, please...” Jon gasped, trying to crawl away, driven by both the pain and the sudden need for the porcelain god. He managed to get halfway to his feet as he staggered to the bathroom, one hand on his head, the other on his mouth. Picking up the drum to follow, Chase said to a smiling Brandon, “This ain’t over, not even close...”

“Remind me to never piss you off,” Brandon said with a chuckle while following towards the bathroom and the sound of Jon’s heaving stomach.

Setting the drum on the tile floor, glancing around at the marble-covered walls and grinning wickedly as he realized the excellent acoustics they would provide, Chase stooped over the drum, sticks at the ready, as Jon finished heaving into the toilet.

As his brother sagged to the floor, Chase began to pound out a slow cadence as Jon clenched his head between his arms, writhing as he cried out, “Stop, please...I’m sorry!”

“Not half as sorry as you’re gonna be,” grumbled Chase, pausing the cruel drumming. “How fucking dare you try and keep us apart and accuse Brandon of being promiscuous, you hypocritical horn-dog. That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about!”

Prepared to turn and run for cover, Eric stuck his head around the bathroom door. “Please chill on the drum for a minute and let me explain. Jon didn’t try and keep you guys apart; he just didn’t try and get you together until last night. Hey, you gotta admit, it worked; I know you guys got it on... I saw your clothes on the floor and you two all cuddled up,” he said, eyeing the drum and deciding that, perhaps, now would not be the most auspicious of times to inform Brandon and Chase that they'd outed them both to the three girls.

“So it was you with the mirror this morning,” growled Chase, “What the fuck was that all about? And I’ve got news for both of you,” he turned to yell at Jon, “Brandon is so damn promiscuous that all we did was kiss. Yeah, he wanted to do more, I could sure feel that,” Brandon blushed slightly, knowing exactly what part of his anatomy was being referred to, as Chase continued, “and I’d have done anything he wanted me to. But guess what? Brandon said he wanted my,” Chase lowered his voice, his own cheeks coloring as he spat out the embarrassing words, “first time to be special, so all we did was kiss, pretty much. Our clothes were on the floor because Brandon’s pants were real tight so we ditched the costumes. Yeah, fags are so fucking promiscuous huh, says the guy who fucked two girls last night and then called me to do the usual ‘ditch the chicks’ routine. Damn, just look up the word ‘hypocrite’ anytime you want to see your own picture because you’re the best definition there’s ever been!”

Okay, okay,” Jon wheezed, “Maybe I was wro...” was all he had chance to say before Chase whipped into a fierce rhythm on the drum, filling the bathroom with loud and painful sound.

Eric dashed from the noise as Jon curled into a ball. Chase paused to say levelly, “Maybe? You’re gonna do a whole hell of a lot better than maybe or I’m going to practice my drumming directly on your head.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry... I was wrong, okay? Brandon, I’m really sorry I said that about you... I was just looking out for Chase...”

“I can’t say I’m not pissed, because I am,” Brandon said as he helped Jon up off the floor, “but we can hash that out when you aren’t such a mess.”

Brandon helped Jon back to the couch as Chase followed along, the drum at the ready under his arm. Eric poked his head out of Jon’s suite to ask, “All clear?”

“For now,” said Chase in an icy tone as Eric joined them at the couch. Jon sat down, cradling his head in his hands, cringing, as yet more pounding assaulted his abused synapses.

Eric sat beside Jon, covering his own ears as Brandon, with Chase close behind, ran to answer the still-pounding door, wondering if the noise they’d been making had the hotel management in an uproar.

Opening the door with a momentary sigh of relief as he saw Helen, Brandon immediately grew concerned again as he saw the fury on her reddening face.

Spotting her intended targets huddled on the couch, Helen charged in past Brandon and Chase, clutching a sheaf of paper in her trembling hand, yelling as soon as she was through the door, “Have you any idea what you’ve done?” She slammed the papers down on the coffee table in front of her two cringing prey before pointing at the papers and roaring again, “Have you any fucking clue what you’ve done?”