Date: Tue, 16 Aug 2011 07:59:31 +1030
From: Marcus McNally <marcusis32@live.com.au>
Subject: Love On The Rocks - 26

This story contains sexual situations between males. If material of this
nature offends you then you should not read this story.  If you are under
18 years of age you are probably not legally allowed to read this story.
This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons
living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely
coincidental. The author claims all copyrights in this story and no
duplication or publication of this story is allowed (except by the web
sites to which it has been posted) without the consent of the author.

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

Sleep was a challenge.  I was disappointed that Ty and I had not made love,
but worse was the lumpy mattress on the double bed he'd had since his teen
years. It was hard to get comfortable, and I was grateful that throughout
the night, there was always some part of me that was connected to Ty; my
knees pressed into the back of his knees, my arm draped around his
shoulders, his head rested on my chest.

I woke suddenly with a desperate need to piss.  The room was pitch black as
I eased my eyes open and glanced at the clock; 4.54am.  Damn.  I had hoped
that I'd be able to sleep through to 5.30, when Ty's Dad would once again
rouse us.  I swung my legs to the side of the bed, stood and fumbled around
in the dark until I found the bedroom door.

I stumbled down the hallway to the bathroom and opened the door, only to be
confronted by Frank having his morning shower.  Of course, this was the
`guy's' bathroom and Frank's day started early.

"Sorry, Frank," I mumbled as I hastily closed the bathroom door.

I heard a chuckle and Frank called out, "It's OK Mike. Come on in."

I opened the door again and went in, closing it behind me.  "I have to take
a leak," I said apologetically, as I freed my cock from my boxers and
directed my urgent stream into the bowl.

I didn't do it deliberately, but my eyes found the mirror over the vanity
and I was able to watch Frank scrubbing up for the day ahead.  For the
first time, I realised where the Hill brothers got their endowments from.
Not only was Frank in good shape, toned and tanned from long days of toil
on the land, but he was generously blessed by Priapus.

I shook my dick, flushed the toilet, washed my hands and sleepily reminded
Frank that I still had another 25 minutes of sleep before he cruelly ripped
the doona from us.

I slipped back into bed and to sleep almost immediately and just as I was
hitting the deep stage, the knock came.

"Tyson!  Michael!  You boys awake?" Frank called.

This time, I knew Ty would bid his father enter and we would be more
entwined than Frank had ever witnessed before; a litmus test.

Frank opened the door and without batting an eyelid said, "Wakey, wakey,
hands off snakey.  Breakfast's ready in half an hour.  And Mum and I will
be going to church at 9.  It would mean a lot to your mother if you boys
came along too.  But it's up to you."

Ty sat up and rubbed his eyes.  "Yeah Dad, we'll be ready for church."
Frank nodded and closed the door, and Ty turned to me.  "You OK to go to
church, mate?" he asked.  "It means a lot to them, but you don't have to."

"Yeah, of course," I smiled.  "It'll give me the opportunity to thank God
for letting me have you!"

Ty laughed.  "You're so full of shit!"

"Yeah, I know," I agreed.  "And in about 17 hours it'll be bedtime back in
Sydney and you'll be full of Mike!"

I heard a groan as Ty got out of bed and grabbed his dressing gown for the
short walk to the bathroom.  I joined him a few minutes later and we
quickly showered and shaved and were on time for breakfast.

Ty and Frank roped me into help bring in the washing from the clothes line
for drying, and replace it with the fresh lot of laundry that Dot had
washed in the early morning hours.  Frank collected eggs from the coop
while Ty and I fed the chooks, after which I was given the task of milking
Ella, their brown Dairy Shorthorn.

I knew this wasn't a task Frank usually undertook.  He'd mentioned that in
the past couple of years, he'd employed a couple of local guys who came in
and did the milking.  No, this was an exercise in making fun of the city
boy.  Try as I did to hold on to Ella's teat and get a flow happening, all
I managed to get from her were irritated moos.

Ty and Frank were almost falling over from laughing, such was their mirth
at my clueless attempt to milk a cow.

"Mike," guffawed Frank, "you've just gotta grip it in your hand, squeeze
and then start moving your hand up and down!  You've had years of
practice!!"

Ty was almost snorting. "You just keep it up `til the white stuff starts
coming out!".

Again, father and son cracked up and neither could manage to get another
word out.  It should have pissed me off, but I saw the funny side and I too
started to laugh.  Frank took pity on me and advised me to be careful
moving away from Ella because she had a kick that could fell a mule.

We laughed our way back to the house where the three of us were hurried
along by Dot to get dressed for church.  Thankfully, George had thought to
include trousers and a jacket in my luggage, and Ty borrowed the same sort
of threads from Frank, so by 8.30 we'd scrubbed up well enough to pass
muster with Dot.

Frank dropped Dot, Ty and me outside St. Michael's while he cruised the
street looking for the perfect parking spot, away from other cars that
might potentially harm the Merc.  He headed back towards us on foot and we
were seated just before 9.

Ty and I got our first look at Rev. Andrew Wall, the late 20s minister who
now headed the Stanthorpe parish.

"Man, he's cute!" Ty whispered in my ear.

"You got that right!" I agreed.  "But I'm cuter!  If you like, I can dress
up as a minister later and hear your confession!"

"Mate," Ty whispered back.  "If you got me started on my impure thoughts,
we'd be in the confessional for days!"

Dot looked around Frank and held her finger in front of her mouth.  "You
boys!" she sighed.  "Shhhh!"

Rev. Andrew did his welcoming thing and then, after a hymn, a reading and
another hymn, he delivered a sermon on fear, basing it on the story of
creation in the Book of Genesis, when after eating the forbidden fruit,
Adam and Eve hid from God because they were afraid.  His sermon was clever
and witty, with several references to the Peanuts cartoon strip and Charlie
Brown consulting Lucy Van Pelt for a nickel's worth of psychiatric help in
a bid to identify his pantophobia, his fear of everything.

More singing, more prayers and the collection plate, and we were done.
Rev. Andrew stood at the top of the stairs leading out to the street,
greeting everyone as they left.  Dot and Frank lingered until the Church
was almost clear, and Ty and I followed them out.

They were talking to the minister as we approached, and Dot very proudly
took Ty's arm and said, "Reverend Wall, this is our eldest son, Tyson.
Tyson, this is Reverend Wall."

"Call me Andrew," the minister smiled warmly as he and Ty shook hands. "I'm
quite new to the area but one of the first things I learned is how proud
everyone around here is of you!  You're our local hero!"

"That's very kind," Ty grinned.  "Andrew, I'd like you to meet my mate,
Mike Stewart."

Andrew greeted me with the same dazzling smile and we shook hands.  Frank
took his car keys out of his pocket and took Dot's arm.  "Come along Dot,"
he said.  "We'll go and bring the car `round.  It was an excellent sermon
as usual, Reverend Wall.  We'll see you next Sunday."

As Ty's parents walked away, Andrew looked at both of us and said, "You two
make a fine-looking couple."

Ty looked surprised.  "Thanks, er, Reverend," he said.  "But listen, what
my Dad discussed with you, it's like just between you and him, right?"

"Well, that custom is being challenged at the moment, but rest assured that
nothing discussed privately with me by anyone in my Parish, ever goes any
further."

"Ty and I are grateful to you for setting Frank's mind at rest, mate," I
said, and immediately wondered whether it was appropriate to call a
minister "mate"?

"Mate," Andrew grinned, "It's never easy coming out to your parents, but
you can't live a happy life if you hold on to secrets.  Frank just needed a
reminder that the Lord loves all his children, doesn't matter what colour,
religion or sexual orientation.  He created us all in His image."

"Well, whatever you said it's made a huge difference to Dad's attitude," Ty
admitted.

"I can tell you one thing Tyson," Andrew replied.  "Your father loves you
and your brothers very much.  And he thinks the world of Mike.  He wants
his sons to be happy, so it's up to you both to show him how happy you are
and how well you can live your lives."

As Frank pulled up at the bottom of the stairs, I said, "Well, we're off.
It's been great to meet you!"

As we shook hands, Ty said, "Mum's making one of her awesome roasts for
Sunday lunch and you're very welcome to join us?"

"Thank you for the offer, Tyson, but I have a mountain of paperwork to get
through today.  I might play `Love On The Rocks' while I sort through the
church bills!"

"You bought my album?" Ty laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Hey!" Andrew chuckled.  "Once I get out of this clerical clobber, I'm just
a guy who likes a beer and some bloody good Oz rock!"

Ty and I looked at one another and giggled.  "Next he'll be telling us he
farts!"

Andrew didn't miss a beat.  He held his hands together in a prayer pose and
bowed his head.  "Just twice during the sermon," he said solemnly.  "It's
not a sin, you know."

Ty and I were still laughing when we got into the back seat of the Merc.
We were almost home when Ty asked Frank to drop us at the shopping strip a
half kilometre from the farm.  "Just wanna grab a couple of things, and
we'll walk home, Dad," he said.

"Lunch will be ready in an hour, son," Dot advised.  "Don't you boys be
late."

"No Mum," Ty replied as he leaned forward and kissed his Mum on the side of
the cheek.  "As if I'd miss your roast!"

We stood on the pavement and watched the car drive off.  Ty steered me into
the surprisingly well-stocked bottle shop attached to the corner pub.
Inside, he selected two boxes of Iron Horse Pale Ale, a total of 24 bottles
of very expensive boutique beer.

"For Dad," he said when he saw my questioning look.  "He tried this beer
backstage at my concert and really liked it, but he'd never pay the price!"

Ty paid for the beer on his credit card and signed an autograph for the
shopkeeper's daughter.  We walked along the strip and Ty stopped at the
florist on the next corner.  Inside, he looked for and found the biggest
bouquet of fresh flowers they had.  "For Mum," he winked.

He handed the bouquet to the salesgirl and asked her to wrap it in tissue
and cellophane.

"Oh my God!" the flustered girl gasped.  "You're Tyson Hill!"

"Yes, that'd be me!" Ty grinned, turning on the charm.  "And you are?"

"I'm Zoe," she stuttered.  "Jesus, none of my friends will believe this!"

"You got a mobile phone, Zoe?" I asked.

"Yes, why?" she replied, reaching behind the counter.

"I'll take a photo of you and Tyson if you like?"

"Would you?  Oh my God.  This is like, unreal!"

Ty put on his best shit-eating grin as he put his arm around the girl, and
I was able to snap a happy memento for her to share with her disbelieving
friends.

As she wrapped the flowers, she cheekily asked Ty, "Are these for someone
special?"

Ty grinned, "You bet they are!  They're for me mum!"

We weren't quite out of the shop before we heard her make the first of many
calls to her girlfriends.  "You are like, so never going to believe this!"
we heard her squeal as we closed the door behind us.

And so we trudged back to the farm; me carrying two cases of beer and Ty
looking slightly ridiculous, partly hidden by a huge spray of brightly
coloured flowers.  A little more than an hour had elapsed when we reached
the house and Dot's admonishment didn't leave her lips when she saw the
bouquet.  "For you, Mum," he smiled, proffering the flowers.

"Oh Tyson, they're beautiful!" she gasped.  "Really, you shouldn't have
..."

"And these are for you, Frank," I said, setting the cases down on the
dresser.

"Iron Horse?" Frank grinned.  "That's very generous of you boys.  Thank
you.  But you shouldn't be spending your money on us."

Ty looked at me.  "There's gotta be something in the Bible to counter
that?" he asked.

I thought for a moment.  "How about `Luke 6:38', Frank?"

Frank chuckled.  "Yes, `Give and it will be given to you.  A good measure,
pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your
lap.  For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you'.  You've
got me there, son!"

"Good!" Ty laughed.  "Just don't go pouring that beer in your lap though!"

"I'll put some in the freezer," Frank said, opening one of the boxes.
"They should be cold enough in half an hour."

"No Dad, they're for you," Ty replied.  "Put `em away in the pantry, and
we'll have a Foster's!"

Frank carried the boxes to the kitchen and returned with three bottles of
Foster's.  I suddenly remembered the chocolates George had thoughtfully
arranged for Dot and retrieved them from my luggage.  We'd just finished
our first beer when Dot called us in to the kitchen, where a repeat of
yesterday's feast was waiting on the table.

"Man," Ty enthused, "Mum's roast two days in a row!  Mate, you and I are
gonna have to get back to running on the beach every morning!"

The meal was delicious and lunch lasted almost two hours, as we made our
way through seconds and thirds until we both had to call a halt.

"I cannot eat another mouthful!" I announced.  "I'm not even sure I can
walk."  I reached under my chair and located the box of chocolates.
Handing them to Dot, I said, "These are from George.  They're Swiss."

"Oh isn't he a lovely man?" Dot beamed.  "He's so thoughtful.  I'll ring
him tomorrow and thank him!  And that way I might be able to find out for
sure if Scott is behaving himself!"

Dot unwrapped the box and was about to hand it around when Ty held up his
hand.  "No chocolates for us, Mum!  And I hate to say this, but we're gonna
have to get going soon.  Our flight's at seven."

"Frank and I will clean up," Dot assured us, disguising her disappointment.
"You boys go and pack."

Ty and I changed into jeans and tees and repacked our suitcases.  By the
time we were back in the lounge, Dot was waiting and Frank was already in
the car.  Nothing was said as Ty walked his mother to the passenger side
and opened the door for her, and we managed to keep the conversation bright
throughout the three hour drive to Brisbane airport.

At the departures drop-off, Dot and Frank got out of the car as we grabbed
our luggage from the trunk.  Ty looked sad when he suggested his parents
not come with us into the terminal.  "We're just gonna check in and then go
straight to the Business lounge, to avoid the fans," he said.  "Probably
best if we just say goodbye here."

Dot looked at her oldest boy for a moment, and then reached up and hugged
him.  "I'm so sad to see you both go," she said.  "You look after
yourselves, and remember that your Father and I love you both every much."

Ty hugged her back and then embraced his father.  "Bye Dad," he choked.
"Thank you so much."

"What for?"

"For just being you."

While I hugged Dot and Frank, Ty turned away to hide the tears he was
holding back.  I picked up my bag and with no further ado, we waved as we
disappeared behind the sliding doors to the main terminal without looking
back.  Check-in was quick and we had only 20 minutes in the lounge before
Flight 628 to Sydney was called.

**********

The flight home was uneventful and Ty, still sad at once again saying
goodbye to his parents, was pensive.  I left him to his own thoughts as I
lay my seat back and dozed.  It was only once we were preparing to land
that Ty shook me awake and 45 minutes later we were in my car and battling
traffic as we made our way back to Point Piper.

As we zipped along Sydney roads, Ty was back to his old self, doubtless
looking forward to our ocean view and more so, the fun that lay ahead
behind our closed bedroom doors.

It was almost 11 when we pulled into the driveway and while Ty fidgeted
with the lock on his suitcase I walked up the stairs and opened the front
door.  "We're home," I called, but I was drowned out by the loudness of the
television.

It took me a moment to realise that this was not the late news.  Somebody
was watching porn on the big screen and, I might add, porn with
excruciatingly bad dialogue.  I looked around the lounge room door just as
Ty walked into the foyer.  I signalled for his silence and beckoned him
over, and the two of us looked in disbelief at Simon sprawled on the couch
with his pants off and Scott on the floor, naked from the waist down,
sucking Simon's painfully erect cock.

Once he'd recovered from the shock, Ty grinned at me and whispered, "Just
go with this!"

He reached around to the lounge room wall and suddenly flicked on the main
light switch, at the same time yelling in a loud, deep voice, "Freeze!
This is the police!"

Never in our lives had we witnessed two guys scramble so much to cover
themselves as they jumped to their feet in bewilderment.  Scott's look of
abject horror turned to one of relief and then anger when he realised it
was us.

"What the fuck, Ty?" he spat, as he flicked the TV off.  "Ever heard of
knocking?"

"I called out when I walked in the door," I said with a grin.  "But I was
drowned out by `come on stud, fuck my man cunt with your big cock'!"

Simon, who still looked mortified, held his jeans and boxers in front of
him and looked at the ground when Ty said, "Seriously guys, this is not
quite lounge room behaviour.  Where's George?"

"He went to bed," Scott said sheepishly.  "And we weren't expecting you
home until late, so we just ... um, you know ... we just ..."

"Yeah, I know," Ty said.  "You just thought you'd watch some porn and get
off?  No problem.  But perhaps in your own room next time?"

I chuckled.  "Hey Scott, your Mum kept asking whether you were eating
right.  I can only imagine the look on her face if she knew exactly what
you've been feasting on!"

"Very fucking funny, Mike," Scott said, still embarrassed.  "Come on Simon,
let's go to bed."

Ty and I grinned as we watched two bare Aussie butts wiggle down the
hallway and disappear into Simon's room.

"Fuck that was funny!" I laughed.

"Yeah!" Ty agreed.  "What's say you and I get naked and have a bit of what
they were having?"

"Last one into bed gets fucked!" I smirked as we raced one another to the
bedroom.

What we missed out on in Stanthorpe, we certainly made up for on our return
as we reacquainted ourselves with each other's bodies.  It was well past
one by the time Ty prized himself off my slowly deflating cock and rolled
onto his back beside me.

"That, mate," he panted, "was just what we needed!"

"You bet, and there's more to come tomorrow night!" I replied, as Ty
snuggled in and rested his head on my chest.  We lay in the dark and I
stroked his hair until he fell asleep and not long after that, slumber
claimed me.

**********

The next morning, as we'd agreed, Ty and I had a long run along the beach
with Scruffy lumbering along beside us, barking at the gulls.  By the time
we got back to the house, we were completely out of breath.  We showered
and dressed, and strolled into the kitchen where George had almost finished
making breakfast.

"Morning, George!" Ty said.  "Where are the boys?"

"Lachlan has been staying at Ellie's flat the last couple of nights,"
George replied.  "And Scott and Simon still haven't surfaced."

A few minutes later the two boys wandered into the kitchen, still looking
embarrassed, and scurried past us to the balcony table.  We joined them as
George started putting breakfast plates in front of us.  To Ty's delight,
George had grilled thick pork sausages and Ty made a big show of picking
one up with his fingers and making out as if he was deep- throating it.

"Hey, the sausages are really good, guys!" he chuckled.  "You should try
them!"

"Knock it off, Ty," whined Scott, glaring at his brother.  All of a sudden
Simon broke the ice when he started to giggle, and eventually Scott's face
broke into a grin.

Ty thankfully left it alone and we went on to fill them in on the visit to
Stanthorpe; the cancer fundraiser, the inspection of the Shaw house, Ty's
jazz performance at Jumpers and Jazz, and a wildly exaggerated version of
my attempt to milk Ella.  When breakfast was finished, Scott and Simon got
up to go, when Ty called his brother back.

"Come here, mate," he said.

"Why?"  Scott asked.

"I want to tell you something."

"So tell me!"

"Nah, it's kinda personal.  I've got whisper it."

Scott sidled by to Ty and leaned down with his ear close to Ty's mouth.  Ty
held his head and kissed him on the cheek.  "I love you, asshole," he said.

Scott looked surprised, but kissed Ty on the forehead.  "Right back at ya!"
he said before scampering back into the house with Simon.

I looked at my watch and realised I needed to get a move on.  I asked Ty
what he wanted me to do about the Shaw property and we discussed making a
formal offer.

"They want $685 thousand for it, so maybe we should offer $670?" he
suggested.

"Nah, we'll go in with something ridiculous, like $600 thousand.  And then
we can haggle it up to $670."

"Whatever you think," Ty said, as I stood and knotted my tie.  I put my
jacket on, leaned in and kissed him and made my way through the kitchen.

Ty called after me, "Hey Mike, your ass looks a million dollars in those
suit bottoms!"

I stopped and grinned at him. I lifted my suit jacket, leaned forward and
presented my cloth-covered ass to the chef.  "What do you think, George?  A
million bucks?"

George rolled his eyes.  "Not anymore, sir," he deadpanned.  "Last time I
saw it in the shower, it had a crack in it ..."

**********

Knowing what a hectic work day lay ahead, the first thing I did when I got
to the office was email a formal offer of $600,000 to the Stanthorpe agent
handling the Shaw property.  Of course it would be rejected, but it was the
beginning of the bargaining process and one way or another, I was going to
make sure that Ty was the new owner.

By the end of the day, I'd received a scornful email from the agent,
advising me that no prior offer under $650,000 would even be considered.  I
delayed a suitable amount of time and responded with an offer of $635K.
The courting had begun.

The week literally flew by with me in court for three days, and Ty in the
studio for four.  Friday rolled around and I accidentally picked up rather
than cancelled a mobile call from Steve.

"You avoiding me?" he asked as soon as I said `hello'.

"Steve, great to hear from you," I said unconvincingly.  "I'm not ignoring
you. Some of us work for a living and we get busy."

"Got time for a drink after work today?"

I quickly tried to think of a reason to decline, but I realised I'd be
leaving work early to collect Lachlan for his doctor's appointment and I'd
be near the city anyway, so I agreed.  It fulfilled my sense of obligation
and, I assured myself, it was just a drink.  Oh, and he'd likely touch me
for a few bucks.

I let Lachlan know of the change in plan and he was happy to catch a cab
back to Ellie's place if I dropped him at the hospital.  Later, he'd borrow
Ellie's car and come visit us because he had something he wanted to tell
us.  I sensed his excitement, but I couldn't quite figure what was causing
it.

I dropped Lachlan at the Prince of Wales and then drove to the bar where I
knew Steve would be waiting.  Over a couple of beers, Steve once again
banged on about his inability to get work because I'd turned him in to the
cops, and how he can't make ends meet because his prison record means he
can't get past the police check in interviews.  Nothing new there.

As he droned on I found myself thinking about the closeness between Ty and
his brothers, which only served to reinforce the distance between Steve and
me.  I'll never really know why.

An hour later, I told Steve I had to go and he asked if I'd drop him at his
city backpacker hostel?  Figuring it was better than being hit up for cash,
I agreed.  On the way, I stopped and left Steve in the car as I sprinted to
the drycleaner to pick up my suits and shirts.  I dropped Steve back at the
hostel and drove off surprised that he hadn't asked for a handout.

I arrived home to find from George that Simon and Scott were out seeing a
movie and Ty and Lachlan were enjoying a beer on the balcony.  I quickly
changed out of my suit into jeans and a tee, grabbed a beer, patted Scruffy
and Floppy, and headed towards the balcony, only to be redirected by George
to the lounge.

We toasted each other with beer and Lachlan let me know he'd left his
backpack on my back seat when I dropped him at the Prince Of Wales.  As I
flopped down next to Ty on the couch, I threw him my keys and he went off
to retrieve it.  Ty took advantage of an alone moment to snog for a minute
before a clearly excited Lachlan returned and dropped his bag on the floor
beside the couch.

"So what's made you so excited, mate?" Ty laughed.

"Well, just something I've been dying to tell you!"

"So tell us!"

"Well," he began, drawing out the suspense.  "Nah, maybe I'll tell you
another time!"

"Cut it out asshole!" Ty laughed.  "Let's have it?"

"Well, how do you guys feel about being called Uncle Ty and Uncle Mike?" he
asked, with an expectant grin.

"Huh?" said Ty, looking stunned.

"Mate, Ellie and I are having a baby!" he gushed, so excited I thought he
was going to explode.

Ty's reaction surprised even me.  "Are you fucking kidding me Lachie?" he
almost shouted.  "Are out your of your fucking mind??"

Lachlan's joy quickly turned to confusion, and just as quickly to anger as
he spat back, "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh for fuck's sake, Lachie!" Ty yelled.  "You hardly know the girl.  And
like, you're having a child with a ..."

"With a what, Ty?" Lachlan yelled back.

"Oh come on mate.  You know what she does for a living!"

I realised this was the first time I'd seen Lachlan angry; he was so worked
up the veins in his neck were threatening to pop.  "You fucking asshole
Tyson!" he said between gritted teeth.  "She is NOT a prostitute, if that's
what you're inferring."

"No, of course she's not.  She just gets paid money to jack guys off!" Ty
scowled as he threw his arms in the air.

"She took that job to pay for her uni degree, that's all," Lachlan shot
back.  "Every girlfriend I ever had fucked other guys before they met me.
Ellie didn't fuck her clients."

"Yeah," Ty hit back.  "Who was that American president who reckoned he
didn't have sex with that woman, because he didn't think a blowjob
constituted sex?"

Lachlan slammed his beer down on the coffee table, jumped off the couch and
grabbed his backpack.  "Fuck you, Tyson," he seethed.  "I'm out of here!"

With that he strode to the front door and slammed it loudly behind him.
Seconds later we heard him start Ellie's car and roar down the driveway and
into the street.

I was in the middle of trying to tactfully suggest to Ty that he'd
completely overreacted, when we heard a car screech to a halt outside the
house and moments later, the front door flew open and Lachlan stormed
in. Ignoring his brother he looked at me and said, "where's my wallet?"

"What?" I asked, baffled.

"My wallet," he repeated.  "It was in my backpack when you dropped me at
the hospital, and I had 500 bucks in it, and all my cards.  And now it's
not in my backpack."

"That can't be!" I assured him.  "I didn't even know you'd left it on the
back seat until you mentioned it just before."

"Well somehow it's managed to go missing and I want it back."

"That's not possible, Lachlan," I said calmly.  "I dropped you at the
hospital, met my brother for a drink and then dropped him back where he's
staying."

"And that's all you did?"

"Well, I stopped on the way to pick up dry cleaning and ..." I replied,
realising what had happened as soon as the words had left my mouth.

**********

Lachlan was almost shaking.  "Where is he?" he yelled.

"Lachlan, you need to calm down," I said, trying to stay calm myself.

"Don't fuck with me, Mike," he warned.  "You either take me to him now, or
I'll call the police."

As much as I wanted to punch Steve's lights out right now, I certainly
didn't want to go through another police investigation. I grabbed my keys
and wallet and followed Lachlan to the door.  I turned back and said to a
shell-shocked Ty, "Not sure when I'll be home."

I tried to talk to Lachlan on the drive to Steve's, but he was in no mood
for conversation.  He sat in stony silence with a thunderous look on his
face.  We eventually pulled up outside the shabby looking building that
housed backpacker transients and I almost had to jog to keep up with
Lachlan.

We walked into the building and Lachlan stopped at the reception desk.  He
turned to me and asked, "What's your brother's name?"

"Steve," I sighed in reply.

He turned back to the receptionist.  "Steve Stewart?  Where might I find
him?"

She looked at her room list and replied, "Room 11, last door on the right
down that corridor."

Lachlan thanked her and strode down the hallway with me in tow.  He stood
for a moment and then, choosing not to knock, he kicked the door open.

To the surprise of both of us, we interrupted Steve fucking a girl who,
like him, was naked from the waist down.  He leapt off her and confronted
us, and I almost laughed at the absurdity of him with his fists cleaned
while his hard cock bobbed menacingly in front of him.

"What the fuck?" he yelled, as the startled girl quickly pulled on her
skirt, picked up her shoes and bag and dashed past us and out the door.

"What the fuck's going on, Mike?" he snapped, as his hands fell to cover
his quickly shrinking cock.  "Who the fuck's this?  Your boyfriend?"

Lachlan stepped forward and grabbed Steve around the throat.  "The name's
Lachlan," he spat.  "You've taken something of mine and I want it back."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Steve squeaked through the only part
of his windpipe that wasn't cut off.

"My wallet.  I want it back."

"What fucking wallet?" Steve gasped.  "Get your dirty paws off me or I'll
call the cops."

Lachlan let go of Steve's throat and said "Good idea.  Mike, call the
cops."

I looked at Steve, who face was registering panic.  "Whose is that?" I
asked, pointing to the black leather wallet lying on the floor next to his
mattress.

"I found it," he said defensively.

"You stole it from my backpack on the back seat of Mike's car.  You're a
fucking thief."

"Fuck off!" Steve sneered, but he immediately cowered as Lachlan stepped
forward again.  With both hands he grabbed Steve's shirt, lifted him off
the ground and pinned him against the wall.

"Mike," Lachlan instructed me, "tell me what's in the wallet."

I flicked through and name-checked the credit cards, driver's license,
membership cards and personal ID.

"And the cash?"

I counted the notes and said sadly, "230 dollars."

Lachlan turned back to Steve and thundered, "Right!  Where's the other
$270?"

"How the fuck would I know?" was his reply and it was not the reply Lachlan
was wanting.

He moved his face close in to Steve's and said, in as controlled a voice as
he could manage, "Listen to me, you lying, thieving piece of shit.  That
wallet and everything in it belonged to me.  You stole it.  Now where's my
$270?"

"I spent it," Steve admitted, and immediately my heart sunk.

"On what?" Lachlan asked.

"Stuff."

Lachlan let Steve slide down the wall so that his feet were on the ground,
but kept his arm around his throat.

"I'm in no fucking mood to play games.  How much did your short-time
girlfriend cost?"

No answer.  Lachlan reached down and grabbed Steve's balls and judging by
the agonised look on Steve's face, he was squeezing them hard.

"$150," he yelped.

"And the other $120?"

Before Steve could answer, I pointed to the plastic bag on his bedside
table.  "I think the weed would've taken care of most of it," I sighed.
"And the rest of it probably went on the slab of beer and the KFC."

Steve's shoulders slumped.  "You're not gonna call the cops are you?" he
pleaded.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't," Lachlan replied.

Steve looked like a deer caught in headlights.  "I'm on probation," he said
quietly.

He never ceased to find ways to shock me.  "Oh for fuck's sake Steve, what
have you done this time?"

When no reply was forthcoming, Lachlan once again squeezed Steve's nads.
"Answer your brother!" he demanded.

"Breaking and entering."

"Jesus Christ," I sighed.  "Again?"

Steve just hung his head.  Lachlan took his hand away from his neck,
grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to the middle of the room.  "The
only reason I'm not gonna call the cops is to spare your brother the grief.
But for starters, I'm gonna deal with you the way my old man dealt with
appalling behaviour."

Without letting go of Steve's ear, Lachlan pulled a chair into the middle
of the room and sat down, dragging a surprised Steve across his lap.
Without any further word he began to spank Steve, and for more than 10
minutes, he relentlessly slammed his hand into Steve's soft, bare ass.

The more Steve cursed and pleaded and wriggled, the more brutal Lachlan's
punishment became, and it continued until Steve finally stopped fighting
him and started to sob.  Only then did Lachlan haul him to his feet and we
were both confronted with a pathetic sight; a grown man with flaming red
ass cheeks, tears and snot over his face and a dick that had shrivelled to
virtually nothing.

Lachlan stood, grabbed Steve's ear again, and snapped, "Do you have
something to say to me?"

"I'm sorry," Steve snivelled, looking at his feet.

"Sorry for what?"

"For taking your wallet."

"Right. Now, apologise to your brother."

"What for?"

"For all the trouble you've caused him by being a fucking lazy jerk and
holding your hand out all the time as though the fucking world owes you a
living.  That's what for!"

When Steve didn't reply, Lachlan made to pull him back over his lap, but
Steve sprang back.  "OK, OK," he said.  "Sorry Mike."

"Now this is what's gonna happen, fuckhead," Lachlan hissed.  "I'll be back
at this time next Friday.  Between now and then you'll get some type of job
and you'll pay me back the $120.  And you'll be paying for the replacement
lock on your door too.  And if you don't have the money, you'll get an even
worse hiding, and then you'll be chauffeur-driven to the cop shop.  Got
it?"

Steve just nodded.

Lachlan picked up his wallet and I followed him towards the hall.  In the
doorway, he turned back to Steve.  "And one more thing," he said, pointing
to Steve's groin.  "Put some pants on and cover that stupid little thing
up.  Not that anyone would mistake it for a dick ..."

With that, we walked back out into the street.  Even though I felt
strangely sorry for Steve, I couldn't help smiling that for once in his
life, he'd been held accountable.  We got back in my car and I sat for a
moment before starting the engine.  I turned to Lachlan and said, "You OK?"

Shaking his right hand up and down, he looked at me.  "Fuck that hurt!" he
exclaimed, and we both laughed.

"Mate, I've never seen anyone so angry!" I said as we drove off.

"Yeah, it's been a great night so far, eh?" he sighed.  "Rule number one,
mate.  Don't fuck around with an Aussie soldier."

We arrived home and climbed out of the car.  "You'll come in, won't you?" I
asked hopefully.

"Not bloody likely!" he replied.

"Come on, mate," I encouraged.  "You and Ty need to talk."

"I've had enough confrontation for the time being," he said.  "I'm going
back to Ellie's."

"OK," I sighed.  "But you and I both know Ty didn't mean any of what he
said.  He worries about you and he loves you."

"Yeah, well he's got a fuckin' weird way of showing it," Lachlan snarled.
"Hey, but I'm sorry you always get caught in the middle of our shit."

"Nah, keeps life interesting," I chuckled and, holding out my hand to him,
I added, "Congratulations to you and Ellie, mate.  You'll make awesome
parents!"

For the first time all evening, Lachlan's face softened.  He ignored my
proffered hand and hugged me. "Thanks mate," he beamed.  "We're over the
moon!"

I stood and watched him walk to Ellie's car and before he hopped in he
called out, "don't saying anything to the folks, eh?  We wanna tell them
ourselves!"

I gave him the thumbs up as he drove off into the night, and then I walked
up the stairs and into the house.

**********

I found a brooding Ty slouched on the couch, his mind no doubt anywhere but
on the mindless television program he was watching.  I poured us a wine and
sat down next to him.

"You OK?" I asked tentatively.

"Yeah of course I'm OK," he sneered.  "I just had a major fallout with my
brother and my partner offered me no support at all.  Yeah, I'm doin' real
good."

For the umpteenth time in 24 hours, I was shocked.  "Excuse me?" I asked
incredulously.

"I reacted like any guy would be when he finds out his brother's knocked up
a chick and quite possibly ruined his life in the process, and you just sit
there letting it all wash over you!"

I don't often get pissed off, but for the first time ever, Ty had me seeing
red.  "You reacted like the bossy, over- protective brother you continue to
be to both of them!" I shot back.  "Ty, Lachlan's 26 years old!  He can
make his own decisions without getting Big Brother's approval.  It doesn't
matter what you think, Ty.  He's overjoyed at the thought of being a dad,
and you just pissed on his parade.  You've made sure you can lead your own
life the way you want to.  Your brothers deserve that right too."

No comment, just more scowls.  "I'm going to bed," I sighed, leaving Ty to
stew on the couch.

I cleaned my teeth, stripped and slid into bed.  I lay in the dark for a
while, trying to sleep, but I was struggling to work out how so many things
had gone pear-shaped in the past day or so.  I was still going over it all
in my mind when I heard the bedroom door open and close quietly.

Ty undressed in the dark, visited the bathroom, and then got into the other
side of the bed.  For a long time we lay apart, each knowing the other was
awake.  At some point, Ty shuffled over and lay behind me, not quite
spooning but close enough for me to know he was there.

"Are you still sulking?" I asked.

"Fuck off."

"You're being childish, Ty."

"Fuck off."

"Do you love me?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

I turned to face him.  "Do you want to kiss me?"

"No.  Fuck off."

I pushed him on his back and turned the tables by resting my head on his
chest.  I ran my hand across his tummy, and tickled his pubes.

"You do love me.  I know you do."

"I do not."

"Well how do you explain this?" I asked as my hand circled his semi-erect
cock.

"It's a biological reaction, nothing to do with you."

"Would you like me to suck it?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Yes, you want me to suck it, or yes, you're sure you don't want me to?"

"Fuck off."

"You know I give a great blowjob," I whispered.  "ExxonMobil pays me to
suck oil out of the ground for them when their pumps break down."

He said nothing, but I just knew he'd be smiling, if not grinning.

A few moment later I said, "Please yourself.  I am representing Michael
Stewart's mouth and I am instructed to inform you that the offer will be
formally withdrawn in two minutes.  And it will remain withdrawn for five
days."

I guess we lay in silence for a minute and a half before Ty moved his hand
to the back of my neck and pushed me downwards.

Yep, we were gonna to be OK ...

**********

Despite the fact he'd turned my mouth into his personal cum bucket only a
few hours earlier, Ty's mood wasn't much improved by morning.  He seemed to
still be brooding and I knew that his skirmish with Lachlan was weighing
heavily on his mind.  What I couldn't suss was whether he was angry with
Lachlan, or with himself.

He picked at his breakfast and really only spoke in response to questions.
When we were finally alone at the table, I decided to take a gamble and go
for broke and I gently laid into him again about the way he had spoken to
Lachlan.  His body language was appalling throughout my diatribe, but at
least he took it on the chin without storming off.

We sat in silence for a while and then he suddenly stood and headed to his
music room, closing the door behind him.  OK, I sighed to myself.  That's
the end of that, then.

Two hours later, while I was checking my emails, the doorbell rang.  George
opened the door and I was surprised when he showed Lachlan into the lounge.

"Hey mate!" he grinned.  "What's so important?"

I looked at him blankly.  "What?"

"You texted me and said Ty was out and you needed to see me urgently?"

"No I didn't!"

We both turned when Ty walked into the room and said, "I used Mike's phone
to text you, Lachie.  I knew you wouldn't come if I sent it from my phone."

Lachlan's smile quickly disappeared.  "Oh!" he said tersely.  "I suppose
you're up for round two?  You want to insult the Ellie some more?"

"Lach ..."

"Remember when it finally dawned on me when you were gay?  In fact, if I
remember correctly, I pointed it out to you.  And you cried.  And I told
you I loved you.  I just accepted it, because you were my big brother and I
looked up to you so much.  I've accepted the way you live your life Ty, and
the very least I thought I could expect in return is that you would accept
the way I live mine."

"You're right, mate," Ty said quietly.  "I want to apologise.  What I said
was unforgivable.  I'm ... embarrassed."

"What?"

"I was way out of line, mate, and I totally regret what I said.  You've got
the greatest girl there, and I really, really like her, Lach.  I was a
cunt, and I'm sorry."

Lachlan's shoulders slouched.  "She's a fantastic girl, Ty," he said
quietly.  "Since meeting her, I realise that I've never really been in love
before.  I want to spend every hour of every day with her.  The baby wasn't
planned, but having a kid with her?  It's made me the happiest guy in the
world."

"Mate," said Ty, unable to hide the emotion in his voice.  "I'm so happy
for you, for both of you.  I just reacted like a dumbass, as I usually do.
I need you to forgive me, and to know we're good."

Lachlan looked pensive for a moment and then held his arms out to Ty, who
grabbed him and hugged him like he was never going to let go.  Relief swept
over me as I watched these inseparable brothers get themselves back on
track.  They were still holding each other when the front door opened and
Scott and Simon bounced in.

"Whoa!" Scott giggled.  "You takin' a walk on the wild side or somethin',
Lach?"

"Not likely, asshole!" Lachlan chuckled. "Just getting a hug from my
favourite brother!"

"You don't mean that!  I'm the baby, therefore I'm the favourite ..."

"Lachie's got something to tell ya, asshole," Ty grinned.

"So shoot," Scott replied, cocking his head to one side.

"You know that little three-wheeler bike of yours you used to scoot around
the farm on?" Lachlan asked.

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Mind if I have it?"

"Sure!  But why do you want a kid's bike?"

"For your niece or nephew!"

"But I haven't got any nieces or nephews," Scott replied.

"Not yet!" Lachie grinned.

The penny dropped.  "Are you fucking kidding me Lachie?" Scott almost
shrieked.  "You and Ellie?  You're havin' a kid?  Way to go, man!"

With that Scott leapt at Lachlan, hugging him and smothering him with
kisses, all the while slapping his back.  Ty looked on with a combination
of pride and regret.  When Lachlan caught his eye, Ty sighed.  "That's how
I should have reacted," he said regretfully.  "I'm really sorry, Lach."

"Did I miss something?" Scott asked, looking from one brother to the other.

"Nah," Lachlan replied.  "It's all good!"

A grinning Simon stepped forward and held out his hand, but as always
Lachlan ignored it and grabbed him in a hug.

Always the IT expert, Simon offered, "When you get the ultrasound DVD, I
can put it online on the back of my website so that your Mum and Dad can
see it.  They'll be able to watch the baby's heartbeat whenever they want!"

Lachlan chuckled.  "Thanks mate!  Maybe you could help me pull some still
photos from the video.  They'd love that!  Not too sure about Mum and Dad
on the internet.  They think a modem is a sanitary item for women, eh Ty?"

Ty picked it up.  "Yeah, they think Google's a character in the `Shrek'
movies!"

Point Piper was finally getting back to normal.

Lachlan jumped in with, "What's say Daddy, Uncle Ty, Uncle Mike, Uncle
Scott and Uncle Simon have a wee drop to celebrate, eh?"

Right on cue, George sailed through the swinging door with a tray bearing a
bottle of Moet and six champagne glasses.

"How do you do that, George?" Ty asked, shaking his head.

"Oh, I hear everything that goes on in this house, sir!" George smiled.  "I
must say this exchange has been much more enjoyable to hear than the one
between those two porn stars on TV last night!"

George enjoyed watching Scott and Simon squirm for a moment before he set
the tray down and gave Lachlan a hug.  "You and Miss Ellie will make
wonderful parents, Lachlan," he said, before popping the cork on the Moet
and pouring us each a glass.

We downed the bubbles after a toast, and it was Lachlan who said, "I think
we'll switch to beers, George!  You need a hand, mate?"

We adjourned to the balcony and the beer started to flow.  Early evening,
as the sun started to set, George mentioned dinner.  Lachlan sidled over to
him, put his arm around George's shoulder and said, "I'm giving you the
night off, Georgie Boy!  We've got some celebrating to do.  Pizzas are on
me!"

Lachlan walked inside to order pizzas for home delivery and when he
returned, Scott suggested he should ring Ellie and ask her to join us.
Lachlan looked at Ty and said, "you OK with that mate?"

Ty was quick to assure him it was a great idea.  "It'll give me the chance
to apologise to Ellie," Ty said quietly to Lachlan.

"No need, mate," Ty said, slipping his arm around his brother's neck and
pulling him close.  "I didn't tell her anything about what happened, so
we're cool."

A good many beers later, George answered the door and led a beaming Ellie
out to join us on the balcony.  I'm surprised the whooping and hollering
didn't have the neighbours complaining.

**********

Luckily, the next day was Sunday and George was happy to let us all sleep
in and deal with our hangovers in our own ways.  I woke first and laughed
to myself when I rolled over and saw Ty.  He was flat on his back, snoring
loudly, and his morning wood had created a flagpole under the sheet.

I was about to grab on to it and squeeze but when I went to move, my head
started to thump and I lay back down.  Not a good idea.  More sleep
required.

I woke again just before midday, to find Ty sitting up in bed guzzling
water from a litre bottle like a parched man.  "Gimme some of that," I
groaned, and he handed me the bottle.

I finished it in one long swig before looking at him and saying, "We need
to remember, mate - beer is not our friend!  We're poncey wine drinkers!"

"I need food," was all Ty could mumble, before calling out feebly,
"George?"

No response.  "George?" he called, a little louder.  A minute later, the
door opened and George walked in looking none the worse for wear.

"Good morning gentlemen," he yelled.  "Did you sleep well?"

"Don't be mean, George," I grimaced.  "May we have some food?  Some greasy
food?"

"Certainly sir," George chirped.  "I'll bring you the leftover bacon that
Scruffy didn't want."

George returned to the kitchen and soon after, I looked up and saw
Lachlan's Army boxers, singlet and dog tags.  Yes, it was a seedy-looking
Scott blocking the doorway.

"Fuck, my head hurts," he grizzled, before looking at me with puppy dog
eyes.  As I belched, I lifted the doona cover and rather than his usually
zippy entrance into bed beside me, he lumbered over and climbed in.

"Last night was fun, eh?" he asked.

"Yeah, it was fun," I agreed.  "Where's Simon?"

"He's still sleeping.  Lachie and Ellie stayed last night, too.  They're
still sleeping too, I guess.  Or maybe they're making more babies!"

I slapped him across the back of the head as George walked in with a tray
laden with buttered bread, a mound of bacon, a heap of scrambled egg and a
pot of mighty fine smelling coffee.

George was surprised to see Scott in bed with us.  "Where did you come
from?" he asked.

"Well see, it's like this George," Scott giggled.  "One night Mum and Dad
were in bed feeling all lovey dovey and then they started to kiss ..."

"Very funny, Scott," George sighed.  "Clearly the only `Trojan' your father
was aware of was the horse from Virgil's `The Aeneid'!"

Scott turned to look at me.  "What's he on about?"

"Well see, there was this war ..." I began.  "On second thoughts, forget
it.  Have some bacon."

George left us to work our way through breakfast and when we were done, we
were starting to feel marginally better.  Ty lurched out of bed and headed
to the en suite to empty his bladder and as the toilet flushed, we heard
the shower running.

"That's my cue," I smiled to Scott, before walking into the bathroom and
joining Ty under the spray.  A few minutes later, Scott wandered into the
bathroom and took a leak.

Ty and I had learned the hard way that the property's old plumbing meant
that a flushing toilet affected the water pressure from taps and the
shower, but Scott hadn't.  When he flushed, Ty and I were momentarily
pelted with freezing water.

"You asshole!" Ty called out.  "Don't flush when the shower's running!"

"Like I was supposed to know that?" Scott laughed.  "Anyway, the cold water
will hopefully guarantee that no funny business goes on in there!"

"You'd better be out of here when I get out," Ty grumbled, and I chuckled
as I watched Scott dart off.

Dressed and having downed several more bottles of water we were in much
better shape, although disinclined to do anything more taxing than lounge
around on the couches watching TV and snacking on the plates of food that
George delivered at semi-regular intervals.

The lounge was the gathering place for the day, and at various times we
played poker with Simon and Scott, or tossed around baby name suggestions
with Lachlan and Ellie.  We discovered that if they had a boy, they were
thinking of naming him Archer.

"Hey, great name!" Ty enthused.  "He'll get Archie, of course, but that's
pretty cool!  Archie Hill!"

I winked at Lachlan; unlike Ty, I knew it was `Mrs Archer' who organized
for Ellie and Lachlan to meet in the first place.

"So when are you gonna tell Mum and Dad?" Ty asked.

"Well, Mike already told them about Ellie, so Mum's been on the phone
asking when they can meet her," Lachlan smiled.  "We might head up there
next week and stay for a few days.  I reckon this is gonna be a big shock
for them."

"Nah, mate," Ty laughed.  "Finding out in a 3-minute window that two of
their sons are gay?  That was a big shock!  This'll be a stroll in the
park.  Mum will have knitted enough clothes for bub's first two years by
the time you leave!"

Lachlan and Ellie went back to Ellie's flat in the late afternoon, Simon
and Scott headed off for a burger meal and a movie, and Ty and I helped
George prepare a quick pasta meal and salad. We ate together and sat down
to watch TV but within an hour, we were all yawning.  It was another early
night for Ty and me and we were thankful for the chance to catch up with
some quality sleep.

**********

The week ahead was a full one for all of us.  My work schedule was crazy
busy accommodating two new clients and handling a major royalty dispute for
one of the country's up-and-coming dance acts whose debut album had been
certified double platinum, without an advance from the record company, and
yet he hadn't seen a cent.

The estate agent, as expected, had rejected my offer of $635K for the Shaw
property in Stanthorpe and over the course of a week I upped the offer in
increments of $5K until we stalled again at $665K.  I gathered from the
speed with which the agent rejected each offer and his lengthy email spiels
encouraging me to "bite the bullet", that Ty was the only serious
contender.  On Friday I played my trump card, shooting off a revised bid of
$675K on the understanding that it was my client's final offer.

Lachlan and Ellie spent the week mostly at Ellie's apartment, juggling
medical appointments; Lachlan's ongoing physio for his wrists and Ellie's
visits to her gynaecologist. Lachlan also met with the review panel of the
Armed Services as together they worked out what the future might hold for
an Aussie soldier who had no intention of returning to active duty, and
meanwhile, he arranged a visit home to introduce his parents to the mother
of his unborn child.

When they weren't surfing or going to the movies, Scott and Simon were
stepping up plans to travel overseas in what remained of their gap year, so
that they would be back home in time for the birth of Lachlan and Ellie's
baby.  They sat with Ty and me late one afternoon and excitedly showed us a
print-out of a great online deal they'd found which would see them start
with a trek through Africa, then move on to Europe for eight weeks,
followed by a month in L.A. and New York, before flying home with a
one-week stop-over in Hawaii.  I went through the fine print and assured
them it was a legitimate – and very good – deal.

Ty absorbed himself in his music for most of the week.  When he wasn't
ensconced at the piano working on chords, he was scribbling lyrics or
listening to CDs by singer/songwriters I'd never heard of.  "The ones we
never hear about are the ones we should be listening to," he'd regularly
say, a reference to the fact that often, the artists we know from the radio
are the ones who, like him, have had to compromise their art for corporate
support.

Late in the week, Ty took a call from Monique who tried to persuade him to
accept an invitation to fly to Melbourne the following week to appear as a
guest judge on the TV talent program `The Next Big Thing'.  Knowing Ty's
distaste for talent programs, which he claimed exploited artists and
stitched them up to unfair contracts, I realised Monique had her work cut
out for her.

"You know I hate that shit, Mon!" I heard him groan down the line.  "If I
do it, I'm seen to be endorsing it.  I don't want to be the one who says
one artist is better than the other, and shatter someone's dream."

Monique clearly went through her hoops; the program was number one in its
timeslot with a huge viewer share, Ty had the chance to perform his current
single live, and he'd be able to pre-promote his upcoming live DVD.  In one
ear, out the other ...

"Sorry Mon," Ty sighed.  "I just don't want to put myself `out there' as a
`celeb' who bobs up everywhere.  If I do this, you'll be asking me to do
`Dancing With The Stars' next, and I'm telling you now that ain't gonna
happen!"

Monique was smart enough to know when to quit, but I knew she'd handball it
to Vince.  Sure enough, an hour later, Vince rang me on my mobile.

"Mate, talk him into doing `The Next Big Thing' will ya?"

"I'll never talk him into anything, Vince," I laughed.  "I'll discuss stuff
with him and present him with fors and againsts, but I'll never try and
sway him from what he believes is right for him."

"Oh come on Mike," Vince whined.  "He's just being a precious `artist'.
He's the country's biggest male recording artist.  People like him, and the
ratings increase when he's on these shows.  It sells albums.  And there
aren't many opportunities these days to perform live on prime-time
television."

"He thinks the contestants are exploited and if they get anywhere, they're
ripped off by the record company they're forced to sign with."

"Yeah!  Of course!" Vince guffawed.  "Ty's ripped-off by his record company
too!  It's the way it works Mike.  If you wanna be a star – and those
kids do – you bend over and let the record company fuck you in the ass.
Well, metaphorically speaking, of course.  Sorry mate!"

"Don't knock it till you've tried it mate!" I laughed, before adding, "I'll
talk to him Vince.  But if he really doesn't want to do it, I'm not gonna
argue with him.  I've always respected his need for a little control over
his creative life, so he has final say."

"Some tough lawyer you are!" Vince replied, though I knew he was rolling
his eyes.

"Hey! I'm a great tough lawyer, asshole!" I shot back.  "Tonight I'm gonna
totally fuck your client over!"

"God heard you say that!"

"God loves us all, Vincey.  Even Italians!"

"Love ya, mate," Vince said as he rang off.  "Make him do the show.  Tell
him, no sex until he agrees."

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen!"

**********

With the rest of the house putting plans into action, I had a bit of alone
time with Ty during the evenings and the first night we had to just sit and
shoot the shit, I brought up the TV program.

"Vince rang you, didn't he?" Ty asked flatly.

"Yeah, of course he did," I replied.  "I told him I'd talk to you about it
but that it's your call.  And it is."

Ty rattled off every reason he disliked the show, and its ilk.  He
presented a good argument for not doing it, and I agreed with all of his
points.  But he knows the lawyer in me and he had to ask.

"What do you think?" he asked, as I knew he would.

"I think you should do what you think is right for you," I said.

"Yeah, yeah," he urged.  "But?"

"Well, I'd go back to them and tell them you'll do it if they'll agree to a
little segment where you talk to the finalists and tell them, in a way that
won't offend anyone, that they're about to become commodities and urge them
to think about it.  And I'd ask if you can sing acoustically, even `a
cappella', and introduce it as a reminder to those kids that what it's
really all about is using your voice to communicate.  The trappings aren't
important."

Ty fell quiet for a while, mulling it over.  His furrowed brow gave way to
a smile and he said, "You know, that makes me want to do it!  Maybe I could
talk about how I blackmailed my record company into letting me doing a
semi- acoustic album!"

"Mate," I laughed.  "They'll edit that bit out.  Just do it subliminally,
remind the kids that the important thing is to stay true to themselves and
what they set out to let their music say."

"Fuck, Mike!" Ty shook his head.  "How come you get it and Vince doesn't?"

"Vince survives on 20 percent of you," I smiled.  "He needs you to keep
working!"

"Tell him I'll do it," Ty chuckled.  "But only on those conditions.  Next
week?  Can you come?"

"Afraid not, mate.  I've got three court appearances, a business cocktail
party and a copyright seminar."

"I'll be gone for like, four days!"

"How horny will we both be when you get home?"

"No, seriously!" Ty admonished.  "Scotty and Simon will probably fly
overseas in that time, and Lach and Ellie will be at home with Mum and Dad.
And I'll be in ... Melbourne."

"George will be here," I assured him.  "And Scruffy and Floppy.  I'll
cope!"

"I wasn't thinking about you!" he laughed.  "What about me?"

"You'll have me to come home to," I assured him.  "We'll have the house
pretty much to ourselves!"

Little did I realise how sadly true that would turn out to be ...

**********

Always happy to have your feedback.  marcusis32@live.com.au