Date: Sun, 19 Dec 99 11:54:42 +0800
From: Emellie Giggles <egiggles@moose-mail.com>
Subject: The Gentlemen's Club: Jeff

THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB
Jeff

By Lady Poetess. Copyright 1999.

Feel free to reproduce and distribute as long as you leave the credits and
the author's note below intact. If you somehow make money out of this,
well, good for you but please send some to me at egiggles@moose- mail.com!

Author's note:

This is actually a part of an ongoing fantasy fan-fiction about a fictional
group of friends in New York whose weekly poker games form the basis of
their story of finding love and laughter. These friends are - under
inexplicable circumstances! - dead ringers from some music and movie
celebrities, obscure or well known, that I find worth a write or two. The
men and their lives depicted here have nothing in common with the real
people they are based on apart from their appearances and names. I am not
speculating on their sexual orientation or personal past. Again, everything
is strictly fictional, apart from the character's good looks. Suing me is a
waste of time, as frankly, to be blunt, I'm penniless.

PROLOGUE

"It's done,' Ronan Keating declared, waltzing into the room with
brighter-than-usual gaiety. "We've gotten Jeff drunk and stripped him naked
and thew him on Alan's boat."

   "With nothing but a bag of skimpy underwear," Ethan Hawke injected,
following Ronan into the room. "Alan's in for a treat."

   "Perfect," Jeremy Northam said. "That will teach that bugger to mess
with me. A week or two upon Misadventurer may do him some good." He saw the
look on the other two men. "What?"

   "The boat's name. Did I hear you say The Adventurer?" Ethan practically
squeaked.

   "No, it's Misadventurer. Why. oh God, you didn't," Jeremy said.

   "'Fraid so," Ronan said. "I need a drink."


ONE

Nick Lachey was exhausted to his very bones. The last time he had some
decent sleep was three days ago, right before the grueling drug bust that
almost cost him his right eye.  It had been his intention to sleep for two
days the moment he had Misadventurer safely in deep waters, rejuvenating
his strength for a week of quiet solitude adrift in the ocean.  Instead, he
had to fight a storm three hours upon setting sail and only now, six hours
later when he was sure he had everything under control, was he allowed
succor.

   He pulled his extremely wet T-shirt off and threw it into a
corner. Stripped to his shorts, he stretched, feeling all his muscles
protest under the strain. "Finally," he said aloud, and reached for his
narrow bed. He threw the sheets aside. "What the fuck!"
   "What the hell!" the naked man jumped upon hearing Nick's shout. "Shit!
Where am I?" With that the man proceeded to throw up the contents of his
stomach at Nick's feet.  Nick's reply was a punch in the man's face,
knocking the latter cold.


"I'm sorry I have to bother you like this," the man told Nick half an hour
later.

   Nick cast the soiled cloth he used to clean up the man's mess into the
bucket and looked at the man sitting glumly at the bed. "I can't believe
this," he said for the twentieth time. "Your friends throw you to your
boyfriend's boat as his birthday surprise and some sort of retaliation for
you playing a trick on them. They got you drunk and throw you aboard, only
that it's my boat they threw you on. Am I right?"

   "Yeah," Jeff said, looking most comfortable in an impromptu toga made of
blankets and sipping a hot cup of coffee. "And they left me without any
clothes but this." He kicked at a duffel bag at the floor, wincing as his
toes hit the bag. "They've raided my underwear wardrobe."

   "We're way too far from shore to turn back," Nick said, leaning against
the wall. "And I doubt there would be anyone willing to come here to take
you back."

   "You can try. I'd be glad to go back. In fact, I think I'm going to
throw up again."

   Nick kicked the chamber pot across the floor to him. An hour later, he
cut off transmission over his radio somewhat impatiently. Short of
Misadventurer colliding with an oil tanker and blowing sky high, there
wouldn't be anyone, shore police or otherwise, willing to come all the way
out here to retrieve a silly ass who got drunk and stowed away at the wrong
boat. He was stuck with this Jeff for the rest of his voyage, and he
refused to cut it short to accommodate the man.

   "Okay, you'll sleep on the hammock I'll put up in my cabin," Nick told
him. "You'll just puke whenever you want in the chamber pot or over the
rail and stay out of my way."

   "Can't I do anything to help?"

   Nick looked at Jeff who was wearing Nick's T-shirt and shorts, both
baggy on that man since Nick was a way larger man. The man looked like he
hadn't done a single day's work in his life. A disquieting thought sneaked
into his head: could this be one of those pampered rich boys who was so in
the closet that he was meeting this boyfriend of his in the sly? If so,
Jeff's father would probably hit the roof upon finding the boy missing, and
Nick would be the one to pay. Once he had made the mistake of falling for a
rich heir of an oil dynasty, only to be ambushed by five hired thugs in an
alley with a painful warning from the boy's father to stay away from his
son. That was a mistake Nick refused to make again.

   "Can you cook?" he asked skeptically. The ship wasn't too big to require
a second pair of hands. "All you need to do is to open cans and heat the
contents," he amended, thinking of the two months' worth of canned food in
the store.

   "Perfect. My grandfather used to take me camping, and he taught me fifty
ways to prepare tuna," Jeff said cheerfully despite his still greenish
pallor. "This isn't too bad. I could use an impromptu vacation anyway."


TWO

Jeff knew he had a boyfriend. He believed in fidelity and monogamy. Still,
there was no harm in looking, he assured himself. The uncomfortable
throbbing of his erection wasn't anything, provided he exercised some
control. Right?

   He used the mop he was holding as support. It had to be his still shaky
sea legs, for suddenly his knees wobbled. It couldn't be Nick, even if that
man stood on the higher level of the deck wearing nothing but shorts that
mould to the muscular shapes of his thighs. Wow, the man was built like a
house. Slim but well muscled, Nick had wide shoulders that looked as if
they could support the burdens of the world, and that perfectly sculpted
body tapered into narrow waist, with those well-delineated stomach muscles
standing out in tensed perfection. Nick pulled at the ropes to hoist the
sail, his biceps bulging in splendid glory with each movement, in perfect
synchrony with the fluid tensing and relaxing of the well-shaped thigh
muscles.

   "There you are. Say, I could use a hand here," Nick said upon spotting
him.

   Jeff nodded, swallowing, as his eyes feasted on the sight of those
shorts riding low on Nick's hips, revealing deep dimples of his pelvic arch
as they rode low, forming a tantalizing `U' beneath Nick's navel. The
shorts hugged every contour of Nick's groin, clinging to the heavy bulge of
Nick's cock and the gentle curve of the thighs. The sizeable crotch was
impressive even upon its resting state. It was all Jeff could do not to
moan in lust even as he clenched his buttocks in an attempt to control his
lust. He climbed up to Nick, thanking God that Nick's shorts were baggy on
him, somewhat hiding the raging state of Jeffrey Junior.

   He blamed his lack of concentration on Jeffrey Junior thirty minutes
later when he tripped over Nick's foot and fell. The sail trembled, and the
mast hit Nick right at the back of his head the moment Jeff lost his grip
on the rope.

   Nick didn't talk or even look at him for that day and the next.


"How did it go? Ah yes." Jeff stood straight and punched his fists in the
air. "I am the king of the world!" he yelled to the brilliant night
sky. "Woo-hoo!"

   Nick stayed where he was, sitting on a broken folded chair with a
fishing rod in his hand, charmed despite his best intentions at Jeff's
seemingly na‹ve joie de vivre. There was traitorous warmth in his heart
as he watched the man called to him, yelling that he had caught sight of
what he believed was a star of some sort. The warmth had been there for
quite awhile, he suspected, probably growing seed the moment Jeff served up
the best platter of canned tuna he had ever eaten.

   "I just added some lime slices I found in one of the Tupperware
cases. Then I added in some dash of pepper and vinegar," Jeff had
explained, elaborating on a recipe a lawyer named Greg taught him. And Nick
hated himself for wondering if this Greg was Jeff's boyfriend.

   Jeff was clumsy. He stumbled into things. He dropped all the kitchenware
nilly-willy and if they were breakable, Nick would be eating from the
can. Jeff was also hypoglycemic, using up extra gas to cook himself a
separate set of food with reduced sugar and fruit contents. Nick had caught
himself in the midst of a fervent desire to beat up Jeff's friends who put
him here without his medication.

   Somehow, he had begun to actually like this incompetent oaf.

   "There's an old telescope in our - my - room," Nick shouted.

   Jeff smiled then, a wide, graceless smile that was almost goofy, and
Nick felt the world around him disappear. Jeff's boyish handsomeness made
him look almost 18, which was the age Nick initially assumed he was (Jeff
insisted adamantly that he was 26, same age as Nick). The way those dimples
in the high cheeks deepen and the way the starlight reflected off those
blue-gray eyes made him look like the statue of a pagan god of youth Nick
had seen during an exploration in Btawii.

   At that moment Nick hated the faceless boyfriend of Jeff with all his
heart.

   Jeff ran down the still slippery floor. Nick saw him slip, fall onto his
butt, before clambering up again. He looked again. It was a really shapely
butt, nicely rounded and the way the shorts stretched taut against the firm
cheeks was damned arousing. Jeff's shirt had hiked up when he fell, and
when he regained his footing, the shirt fell down, but not fast enough to
expose a set of firm abdominal muscles. Nick spread his thighs apart,
letting his cock grow and fill. Jeff had said that strict and regular
exercising was a must in his staving off hypoglycemic attacks, and Nick
could fucking well testify that the man had adhered to his exercise
regiment faithfully.

   Too bad Jeff belonged to someone else. Nick's brain knew, but fuck if
his cock didn't get the message.


"What's it like, being a cop?" Jeff looked up from the book he was reading
the moment Nick stepped into the cabin.
   "Not too bad." Nick had anchored the Misadventurer for the night. He was
looking forward to this moment, when he would retreat and Jeff would talk
to him, he suddenly realized. The room seemed brighter and roomier when
Jeff was around. For that, perhaps he owed Jeff some decent
conversation. "I am a cop after leaving high school. I don't have any basis
for comparison."

   "You got a rank?"

   "Yeah. Detective. Nothing special really." Nick sat on his bed. "It can
be fucking hard on the nerves though, the long stakeouts and interrogations
I have to go through. And dealing with weeping women and men with fake
bravado can be one fucked-up experience."

   "But it has its perks, right?"

   "I'm serving the people." Nick pulled off his shirt and wiped his body,
still wet from his dip in the ocean. It was probably wishful thinking to
feel as if Jeff were staring at him.  "My father was a cop, so was his
father. Besides, I'm not good at anything but fighting, so I may as well
put it to good use." He looked at Jeff who looked heavily engrossed in the
book. "How about you? What job do you have?"

   "Me? I help my father around. Okay, not much. I'm what you call a rich
bum. My family never let me do anything because they think I'll get a
hypoglycemic attack if heaven forbid I do anything without consulting them
first. This vacation is the first time I actually do things on my own, do
you believe that? I'm 26, and I'm as independent as I was at 13."

   "Your parents care for you. That's good." Nick thought of his distant
and almost emotionless father and his overworked mother. "You just need to
tell them to back off."

   "Nick, that's easy, if you can defeat years of social conditioning that
makes you believe you're an incapacitated weakling. But I'm working on
it. I've saved up enough to buy myself a house far, far away from my
parents."

   "Good." Nick felt weary all of a sudden.  Jeff would be okay, and Nick
shouldn't care too much. "I'm going to bed."


That night he dreamed of the man that he had been infatuated with when he
was younger and stupid. He remembered the disbelief that he had felt when,
bloodied and barely able to walk; he had staggered to Horus' house to beg
him to run away with him. They could start a life together in a faraway
place where no one would care about the difference in their status. But the
door never opened. The stiff-lipped butler had told him with a sneer that
young Master Horus wasn't in. Nick had seen Horus looking out the window at
him, and from the way Horus quickly turned away to laugh at something his
companions say, Nick knew that he was the only idiot who thought his
foolish dreams would work. From disbelief came hurt, then the agony of
hatred.

   "Hey, are you okay?" he heard a distant voice whisper. He opened his
eyes, feeling a million years old, and saw Jeff looming over him. "You're
whimpering," he heard Jeff say quietly, and he thought that soft, smooth
tenor was the sweetest balm of benediction on his soul.

   "Have you been listening to me sleep?" he asked Jeff quietly, feeling
his heart break even as his desire went on slow burn.

   "I'm always listening to you sleep," Jeff said, his eyes glittering in
the dark, in the starlight.

   Nick had never seen anything more beautiful. He touched Jeff's face with
trembling fingers, letting Jeff's incipient beard singe his skin. "You're
just like the sands of Sahara at night. Starlight in my hands."

   "Hush." Jeff lowered his lips to Nick's, a shy grazing of lips.

   Nick refused to have that. He bit gently on Jeff's lower lip, refusing
to let the man move away. When Jeff opened his mouth to protest, Nick's
tongue slipped through, plundering at the sweetness of the man's mouth. His
tongue rubbed against the roof of Jeff's mouth, licking at the moistness of
the gums, and inviting Jeff to explore him with equal abandon. Yet he was
unprepared when Jeff answered his invitation, when their tongues began
their sinuous dance, rubbing and caressing and tasting each other. Nick's
hands slipped under Nick's shirt, pulling it up to his armpits and Jeff
himself broke off the kiss to pull his shirt over his head.

   "Great body," Nick murmured, pinching roughly at Jeff's wine-dark
nipples.

   "Speak for yourself, stud," Jeff said, "you're not too bad yourself."

   Nick smiled, sitting up and lowering his shorts. His cock, engorged to
the hilt, throbbed free. "Yeah, that's it," he gasped when Jeff swooped
down on him. Warm, heated lips enveloped his cock, slowly sheathing him
until he was halfway down Jeff's throat.  "Careful love. Not everyone can
take all of me."

   Jeff's eyes flashed defiant fire, and his throat only loosened, taking
in more of Nick.  Nick gripped sides of the bed as hot fire raced up every
inch of him up to his spine when Jeff's lips rested on the base of his
cock, those velvet lips burning on him. Then Jeff withdrew, slowly, inch by
inch, stopping to give the crown of Nick's cock a slow lick at the slit
before sneering at Nick. "You're looking at a professional in fellatio,"
Jeff told Nick with a hint of gentle mockery. "I'm trained on the football
team of Harvard, Class of '94. You can't find anyone who can take big dicks
up my throat and ass like I do."

   "Oh?" Nick growled even as his cock jumped at the thought of sinking in
a hot, tight asshole. "So you've lived a wild fucking life?" The thought of
Jeff's body under another's, that taut buttocks parting to be speared by
another cock, drove Nick wild enough to kill. "You haven't been fucked by
me, you teasing bitch. I'll ruin you for other man."

   "Oh, with a cock that size, I believe you will," Jeff said. "Ever fucked
on a hammock before, Nick?"

   "No," Nick said, advancing on Jeff.

   Jeff lay back on the hammock and placed his hands around his ankles. He
raised them easily until his ankles were up to the level of his shoulders,
exposing his dark, quivering asshole. "Then what are you waiting for?" he
cooed.

   Nick didn't hesitate. He clambered on the hammock, causing it to sway
dangerously, covering his body over Jeff's. Jeff's eyes shut tight and a
pleased groan escaped those gorgeous lips when the tip of Nick's cock
widened the ring of muscles of his anal passage wider than anyone else ever
did. "Please," he begged as he ground his groin at Nick. "I need -
aaarrrggghhh!" He screamed in real agony as Nick's cock speared him,
ripping his well-used anus to its stretching limit. Nick paused, every
muscle tensed in barely suppressed violence, his eyes nothing but gentle
concern as he kissed Jeff's forehead tenderly. But he didn't withdraw - no
fucking way! - he waited until Jeff's breathing was almost back to normal,
when he felt Jeff's muscles relax as he adjusted to Nick's thickness, then
he resumed his coring. Jeff gasped as he felt Nick invade him deeper, as
every muscle in his anal passage gave way to Nick's massive column of
flesh. He wanted to scream at the man above him to get off, so bad was the
agony that ripped through his very being.

   Then it happened. Nick's cock nudged at his prostate, and then Jeff saw
nothing but the blinding white flash of orgasm even as Nick's cock pushed
even deeper. He shuddered, screaming in joy and relief as his orgasm seized
him, causing his balls to rise and white, rich ejaculate spurted from his
cock onto both their chests and stomachs. Warm, fiery pleasure ensnared his
senses, driving him insensate into a world of ejaculation and Nick's hot
thrusts. one, two, three hard thrusts, then Nick too was joining him, his
thick creamy semen gushing up so deep up his rectum that Jeff could almost
taste it in his throat.


"Shit," Jeff said when sunlight streamed onto his face the next morning. He
looked at the man sprawled beside him on the floor, and cursed softly. It
had to be the moon, or the stars, hell, perhaps it was the fucking sea air,
but like it or not, he had cheated on Alan last night. Not once, but four
times throughout the night, as he and Nick used each other in ways that
demolished both their senses. "I'm not cut out for this infidelity shit."

   "Feeling sorry already?" Nick opened his eyes. He rubbed at his
stubble. "Hell, I don't think I'm cut out for this poaching on another
man's boyfriend either. I feel like the most unworthy motherfucker on
earth."

   "I know." Jeff turned to the other man and grinned. "It sure felt great
though, doesn't it? Especially when you sat on my cock and fucked my brains
out."

   "Yeah. I must say we fit perfectly." Nick smiled back. "So what do we do
now?"

   "Well, we can either stop what we are doing right now, which I'm sure is
the proper thing. Or we can just keep fucking each other until the end of
the trip, and return home feeling like the sleaziest bastards in the
world."

   "Okay, we'll do the right thing. No more fucking," Nick said
solemnly. He lay back on his pillow. "But hell, it was a great fuck
though."


Jeff grunted, gripping hard on the railing as he bent over. He fell forward
with each hard thrust from behind by Nick. So much for good intentions -
two hours after vowing never to fuck, they were at it again. All Jeff had
to do was to see Nick on deck shirtless, and all Nick had to do was to look
at Jeff. Fuck foreplay, it was all Jeff could do to get down on his knees
before Nick savagely ripped his shorts to pieces and plunged hard without
any preliminaries. Strangely, the pain of dry fucking was arousing,
maddeningly so, as Jeff clenched hard on that penis pumping him. He thrust
his ass back when Nick withdrew, desperate not to feel the gaping emptiness
that was Nick's withdrawal; his tight tensing of his rectal muscles on
Nick's cock so hard that Nick shuddered with the ecstasy of it.  Every
distended vein on that proud cock stood out in glorious lust as it rammed
violently in that sweet hot crevice that promised so much pleasures.

   "Oh, oh, oh Nick, Nick," Jeff panted, biting into his lips as he felt
his own groin tighten. The familiar pulsing pleasure that pooled at the
base of his spine, pulsating with each maddening rubbing of Nick's cock
against his aching prostate, intensifying with each impossibly wide stretch
of Nick's cock crown against his entrance of his anus, burning, hungering,
unbearably painful - then Jeff was sobbing incoherently as Nick's rough
fingers closed around Jeff's throbbing cock. At that contact, Jeff
ejaculated wildly.  Nick's fingers closed around him, collecting his come
juices in that wide palm of his.

   Then Nick was rubbing the rich ejaculate along Jeff's chest; the warm
juices layered like thick icing on his hard muscled chest. Nick's touch
lingered on those erect, aching nipples, smoothing tangy male juices at
each throbbing peak, before continuing down, down where soft skin stretched
taut over stomach muscles tensed in need of more relief.  Jeff spread his
thighs wider as he felt his lover's thrusts increased in speed. He needed
that, oh yes, oh Lord, all that hard-muscled strength between his legs, and
that big horse- cock. Jeff reached blindly behind, feeling the smooth fluid
motions of Nick's rock-hard thigh muscles under tanned skin, and then those
taut, rock-hard buns, hiding the asshole that Jeff had fucked hard only
last night. Nick was as great a bottom as he was an aggressive top; Jeff
wondered if he would ever be satisfied if any other man after Nick.

   All thoughts splintered the moment he felt Nick's cock hardened further,
stretching Jeff's male fuckhole impossibly wider than before. At that
final, deepest thrust, Jeff felt the violent throb of Nick's cock, then it
was pure ecstasy as Nick arched his back, head thrown back and eyes wide
shut and teeth gritted, and spilled his tribute, those delicious semen, a
helpless worshipper of Jeff's body.

   His friend Stephen was right, Jeff thought dimly, life was infinitely
better as a bottom.


"I can't keep my hands off you," Nick murmured that night. They hadn't done
anything but to copulate like two slaves to their hormones, which was
probably what they were.  "And I don't even feel guilty about this
boyfriend of yours."

   "Let me feel guilty later," Jeff answered, snuggling deeper in Nick's
embrace. "This seems so perfect, I don't want it to end."

   Nick took a deep breath and fortified his nerves. Some things had to be
said, even if he was dooming himself to heartbreak. "Jeff? How would you
know if a man loves you?"

   Jeff chuckled, the motion of his chest rubbing against Nick's causing
resurgence in Nick's flaccid cock. "Well?" Nick insisted, letting the
arousal build. They had fucked so many times, both of them were sore as
hell. They had time to rediscover each other's body later. Maybe in twenty
minutes' time.

   "How will I know if a man loves me? Well, he'll get a tattoo on
him. Maybe my name."  Jeff stretched, feeling the muscles in his back
pop. "God, I need chocolate."

   "Hypoglycemia coming again?"

   "I haven't eaten whole day. That's bad." Jeff sat up. "I'll cook us
something. I can't believe we missed lunch and breakfast."

   "Stay Jeff. I'll cook." Nick reached for his shorts.

   He wasn't a good cook like Jeff, hence he heated some sardines. He had
no appetite for food, however, so he sat back and watched Jeff eat. The man
ate with simple relish, like the way he did everything else from fucking to
discovering new sights in the sea. Nick had never seen any man so
singularly excited about life.

   "Cotemalayla," he said aloud.

   Jeff looked up. "What's that?"

   "Oh, an Australian aboriginal term. It fits you. You're exciting and
beautiful. You remind me of the spindle monkeys of Australia."

   Jeff peeled open a Mars bar. "I'll take that as a compliment."

   "I mean you're like those monkeys, always doing things with so much
energy and so much enthusiasm. You should see the way the male monkeys
court the females.I'm doing this wrong," Nick said with a sigh. He never
was good with words.

   Jeff stopped laughing. "No, you're doing it right. That's the best thing
anyone has ever said to me. Back home I'm a bungling, lazy wastrel who
can't tie his shoelaces without his father running up in alarm." He reached
across the table and covered Nick's hand with his. "You're a great buddy
Nick."

   Nick saw red. Great buddy? After all the fucking they had done?

   At that moment they heard the sound of the approaching ship.

   It was Jeremy. "Ahoy there. I thought you'd want a lift home," he
called. "You have no idea how bloody difficult it is to hunt the both of
you down."


THREE

"Look at you. You have actually gained weight," Mathilda Emerson cooed.

   Jeff wanted so dearly to rip his tie too. He wanted out. He couldn't
take all this society soirees anymore, not the condescending way the
socialites treat the bungling young Mr Timmons, and certainly not the
aching loneliness in his soul.

   But he couldn't go searching for Nick, could he? The man all but tossed
him out of the boat the moment Jeremy arrived, and Jeff wasn't sure of his
emotions to beg to be allowed to stay. Now, oh, how he missed the sea, the
freedom, and the man that showed him was it was to be treated as an equal
and a person. Nick made him feel like a human being instead of a clown, and
he missed that feeling.

   He missed Nick so much that he wanted to just lie down and die. Maybe
then Nick would feel the agony that Jeff was living day by day.

   Jeff smiled stiffly, and walked away from his aunt. He almost collapsed
with relief when he saw his friend Brendan. "Brendan, I need your car."

   "No way. My Porsche's new." Brendan reached into his pocket, however.

   "You can get a new one. I'll buy you one." Jeff fidgeted impatiently. He
had planned to hire a builder for the house he had designed, hell, he had
even planned what dogs he would get from the Pound to live with him. All he
needed to do now was to take the first step to independence. At 26, he was
long overdue in doing that. But what good was a house of his own design
when Nick wouldn't be living there with him?

   Where had that thought come from?

   Jeff accepted the key from Brendan, not seeing anything as he was lost
in his thoughts.  He waved a concerned Brendan off, and sat on the stairs,
struck by the direction of his thoughts. Did he really want Nick to live
with him? Why Nick? Why not Alan, or any other of his ex-boyfriends?

   He was still puzzling this new mental dilemma when he realized that the
key he was holding was actually a hotel room key. Room 98. "Brendan, what's
this?"

   "It's Jeremy's way of making amends. You want to move out of your
parents' place right? He suggests you move in right away and send for your
things later. Make a move before your parents know what hit them, if you
know what I mean."

   Jeff looked at Brendan, eyes narrowed. "Okay," he said, even as he knew
Brendan was lying through his teeth.

   Room 98 was a simple if comfortable room in a motel
downtown. Perfect. In his state of mind, Jeff didn't bother to think too
hard. Weary, he stripped and fell asleep to the sounds of a porn show on
TV. He didn't hear the turning of a key on the adjoining room, and he
didn't hear the man walk in. It was too late when he woke up.

   Nick Lachey had all nine glorious inches of him buried to the hilt up
Jeff's unprepared ass. "Nick!" Jeff gasped even as his body accommodated
itself to this sudden if not unwelcome invasion. "How- what- am I
dreaming?" He touched the heart tattoo on Nick's chest, where his heart
beat thunderously, and stared dumbly at his name engraved in the middle of
the red heart.

   Nick pushed Jeff back onto the mattress. "You left Alan."

   "Yes. We never mean anything more than convenient fuck partners." Jeff
gritted his teeth when Nick's hands gripped his face to make him look at
the man. "You're hurting me, Nick."

   Nick released his grip only a little. He moved, withdrawing a little
from Jeff, and plunging back in when Jeff whimpered a violent protest, the
latter's anal passage an iron grip of a sheath on his cock. Oh yes, he
missed this sweet hot ass as much as he missed seeing and talking to Jeff,
Nick thought. His heart was close to bursting at the potential
possibilities he and Jeff could share in their lives. He was actually
happy. "You're miserable without me."

   "Did Jeremy tell on me, that nosey old - oh yes, like that, Nick."
   "You should thank Jeremy. He tracked me down and told me you miss this."
Nick began a leisurely pumping rhythm, resting his weight on his palms and
knees.

   "Definitely this."

   "I hear you're building a house. You're looking for a housemate? You can
live with me in the meantime." Nick slowly whispered in Jeff's ears as he
fucked that man tenderly.  As he adjusted Jeff's legs above his shoulders,
he nibbled on the earlobe.

   "You think you've me wrapped around your finger, don't you?" Jeff said
forcefully, only that the effect was ruined when he gave a high-pitched cry
the moment Nick inserted a finger up Jeff's already cock-packed
anus. "Nick!"

   "Maybe you're not ready for this yet," Nick murmured, slowly withdrawing
the finger.  As he resumed his screwing of the man he loved, he placed
Jeff's hand on his heart. "I have you in my heart, and hell, you have me
wrapped around your finger. The least you can do is to give me the same
advantage."

   Jeff silenced him with three skilful fingers up the man's tensed
asshole. As he lay back to enjoy Nick's lovemaking, he decided that
emotions might be fucking complicated but what the hell, if this was love,
it was going to be one hell of an adventure.