"Can I tell you a secret?"

This night William had bound Chase to the headboard of the boy's bed with wide satin ribbons (which had proven to be surprisingly sturdy--this Chase learned when he tried to pull loose at one point in the proceedings). Now Chase was lying with his hands tied over his head and William stretched out comfortably along his side, William's arm slipped under Chase's head to pillow him and hold him close. Will was skating his fingers idly over the smooth skin of Chase's chest and belly, feeling the dampness they'd created together. "Well, hon, this is the traditional time and place to share secrets. I'd be honored to keep any that you care to give me." He gently pinched one still firm nipple. "Confess: you're Prince Andrew's illegitimate son, and thus in line for the British throne."

Chase giggled, going along with the joke. "I hope not. Prince William would be my cousin. He's seriously hot, and cousin is close enough to set off my 'incest, ick!' meter. But this IS sort of about a relative."

"Go on." William was truly interested. He wanted to know everything about Chase, and that included learning about his family. What he'd heard so far (his mother's gentle acceptance of her son's choices, his ex-Marine uncle's practical response, the fond memories Chase had of his late father) made him think of an old truism: when you were involved with someone, you were really involved with their entire family. He thought that wouldn't be so bad.

"My mother is considered to be the best cook in three counties. For six or seven years she has consistantly won almost every local contests that was sponsered by the churches, charities, and local businesses and newspapers. She only wins the contests where they bring in the entries, though--not the ones where she'd have to show up and cook from scratch."

"Doesn't sound like much of a secret. I mean, wouldn't she be profiled in a lot of local newspapers?"

"Oh, yes--she has quite a scrapbook at home. That isn't the secret."

"Uh-oh. Chase, does your Mom buy stuff from commercial suppliers, put it in a dish, and submit it as her own?"

"William, you bite your tongue! The very idea of my mother doing something that sneaky. No. The secret is that -I'M- really the best cook in three counties. Since I was fourteen, Mom has been submitting my food in her name."

William pushed himself up on his elbow to stare down at Chase. "For heaven's sake, Boo. Why?"

Chase shrugged. "Cooking isn't a traditional area of male accomplishment back home. Oh, a man is expected to be able to barbecue a steak, he can slap together a sandwich or open a can if he doesn't have a woman to do it for him, and no one says anything if he can whip up a pot of chili--especially if it's made with venison--but baking? My dear, you might as well wear a pink triangle. It all started in nineth grade. I didn't dare take home ec, of course. The only reason I got away with taking typing and shorthand instead of wood shop or mechanics is because I hinted strongly that I was doing it to be surrounded by girls." He giggled. "I actually got complimented on my strategy by a few guys. Anyway, what pushed me into it was Glenda Swain winning the Autumn Carnival cake contest, junior division." Chase's expression became belligerant. "I'd tasted her Fluffer-Nutter cake, and it didn't hold a candle to my Citrus Blast. I pouted in my room for an entire weekend when she won, and Mom finally offered to submit something for me in the next contest." He closed his eyes, and smiled. "A star was born! After that there was no holding me back. But when I moved Mom declared that she was retiring from competition--sort of like when Bill Cosby took himself out of the Emmy running after winning three or four years in a row. When I go back, I always make something for a social or bake sale, so she can keep up her reputation."

"It's a shame you felt like you had to go through that," murmured William. "I've tasted your baking, and you deserve accolades."

"Thank you, kind sir."

"But I'm curious--what inspired you to make this confession now?"

Chase's eyes remained closed, and his voice was drifting, drowsy. "This is part of me. It's the only time I've ever been dishonest as anything except a quick joke. I guess I shouldn't have been so deceptive, but I just wanted it so bad, and if everyone had known... I've grown up, Will, but back then I just wasn't brave enough. Now..." He smiled. "Now I have someone I really want to be honest with. Not gonna scold me, are you?" His voice was fading. William kissed his cheek. "Hell no, sweetheart. You have to promise to make that Citrus Blast cake for me sometime, though."

"M-hm."

William nuzzled Chase's hair. "Because now I'm curious. Citrus covers a lot of ground. Oranges, lemons, limes, tangerines..." he lowered his voice suggestively, "kum-quats." He paused a moment, thinking. *I need to tell him.* "Speaking of secrets, Chase--do you remember the first time we really screwed?" He chuckled. "I know I do. Anyway, remember that I said I had something to tell you? You were worried that I was about to reveal a wife and 2.5 kids. By the time I'd reassured you, I'd kind of lost track of what I was going to say. I haven't really been trying to hide this from you, but there just never seemed to be..." Chase made a faint rasping sound in the back of his throat. "Chase?" No response. Then the boy's eyelids twitched, his eyes moving rapidly beneath the thin skin. *Oh, great. I should have remembered that he tends to drift off in the after glow. Well, hell--men are traditionally the ones who roll over and go to sleep right after sex, so why am I surprised?*

He snuggled the boy a little closer and whispered, "I'm still gonna have to tell you this when you're awake, but if you don't hear this, I can just consider it a trial run. Here it goes. Chase--I'm rich. I'm not quite up to Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, or filthy, stinking level, but I'm a damn sight past well-to-do. What do you think?" Chase snored again. "I'll settle for that. I just hope you don't bite my head off when I really tell you."

He checked Chase's wrists, decided they could leave the bonds on for another hour or so, and settled down to join his lover in a post coital nap.

The Next Day

"Denise, I want to ask your opinion about something."

Denise Umbridge had been walking toward the door of William's office, but now she stopped and came back to where he was sitting at his desk. "Yes?"

"It's, um, a little personal," said William. "I wouldn't ask you if I hadn't known you for so long." He cleared his throat. "How early in a relationship do you think you should reveal your financial state?"

She blinked at him. "You mean things like income, capital, property?"

"Yes, but on a general scale, not just dry figures."

"Oh. You mean 'McDonalds or Taco Bell?' as opposed to 'change into your tuxedo or the maitre de won't seat us'?"

"Ye-ah. Or maybe the difference between a weekend in CanCun and a week on the French Rivera."

"Well, that would depend on what you wanted to accomplish."

"You mean other than honesty?"

"Of course. If you're just looking to impress someone you start out right away. Let them know from the word go how wealthy and important you are. Of course if they jump at you, you have the added problem of never knowing if they're interested in you, or your money. But then if you use a shallow approach, you have to expect a shallow response."

William nodded. "That's sort of what I thought."

"But of course you might also want to reassure the person you're interested in that you can take care of them, provide them with security. Show them that you're a person of substance. In that case I'd say wait till a week or two into the relationship before you revealed your net worth."

"Mm. Suppose you'd waited, oh, a month, or five weeks?"

She frowned. "No, I wouldn't wait that long. It might look as if you were hiding your assets. Like you were afraid that the other person might try to take you. It could almost be seen as a pre-emptive accusation of them being a gold digger."

William sighed, slumping slightly. "I was afraid you'd say that."

Denise knew what he was refering to. "You don't mean that you haven't told him yet that you're well-to-do?"

"I started to a couple of times, but Chase can be very... distracting."

"You've worked through distractions before, or you wouldn't have brought this company to where it is today."

William smiled at her. "Denise, believe me--it hasn't been the kind of distraction Chase can provide."

Denise blushed, but she didn't quite giggle. William didn't try to hide his lifestyle from her, but he didn't flaunt it, either. She knew that for most of his life he'd tended more toward bed partners than lovers, but, she reflected, he was growing up. In the last year or so he'd begun looking for something deeper and more permanent in his relationships. She'd been saddened whenever a fragile new affair hadn't survived more than a few weeks. This relationship with Chase had gone on longer than any of the others. The wonderful thing was that William seemed to have moved past the initial infatuation and come to genuinely care for the boy.

Denise had never met Chase, but William talked about him a lot, and she almost felt that she knew him. "You should have told him before now, but if he's the kind of boy you've told me about, he won't hold it against you," she said firmly. She studied William's expression, seeing the hint of wistfulness in his eyes, and her voice softened, "And it won't make him love you any more, either."

"Thanks, Denise," he said quietly. He thought a moment, then smiled. "Okay, since I haven't had any luck trying to just talk to him about it, and since it's grown into something of an elephant of a secret, maybe I ought to just go with the 'big reveal'. Care to help me?"

Denise stared at him in surprise, then returned his smile with delight. She and her husband had never had children, and she'd admitted (at least to herself) that she sometimes looked upon William as a surrogate son, and there were few mothers who could resist having a hand in her child's love-life. "Happy to."

"Thanks. I'd better do this while I still have the courage." He picked up the phone, but when she started to leave he gestured at her. "No, stay there. Maybe if you're watching I won't chicken out."

She folded her hands, and watched him dial. "Hello, Mona. How they hangin'?" Denise raised an eyebrow, but he just shrugged. "Good. Yeah. Is the little prince available? He smiled and said in a sarcastic voice, "No! I can't hold on. Tell him to get his curvy little butt to the phone now!" Denise was blushing again, and he winked at her. "Hey, Strawberry Blond. How's my baby?" His grin spread. "Yes, I know you're fine. You're off tonight, right? How'd you like to have dinner and a sleepover at my place?" William jerked the receiver away from his ear, and Denise had to smother a giggle as she heard the excited squeals from the other end. "Please, baby boy--my ears! Why don't you meet me at work at about six?" There was a moment of silence, and then he said quietly, "Yes, it's going to be all right. Sugar, you don't think I'd be ashamed to have you come around where I work, do you? Mm? No, doll. There's no one here who'll give you any trouble. No, and they won't give me any trouble, either. Do you have money for a taxi?" He laughed. "Sure, if Duke will give you a ride, go for it. Just be sure to wear a helmet and protect your noggin. Now, you need to come to 1440 Market Street. I'm on the third floor. No, you don't need an office number. Just ask anyone you see there to send you to the main office. Bye, doll." He made a kissing sound. "To you, too."

As William hung up, Denise said, "I'm looking forward to this."

"Me, too," sighed William, "but I'm dreading it, too. I'd better alert Mrs. Fieldstone. She'll want to disinfect the house and perhaps do a little light redecorating before buying enough food to throw a Chinese state banquet."

"I'll leave you to break the news to her, while I finish that memo on the acquisition."

"Okay."

"Would you like me to keep an eye out for him? I have a view of the elevators."

"Would you? I'd appreciate it."

"My pleasure."

As she left he murmured, "Break the news?" He dialed his home number. "Hi, Mrs. Fieldstone. Look, I decided to invite Chase over to the house for dinner." He paused. "Tonight." He paused again. "Mrs. Fieldstone, you there? Um, well, you have more than two hours, and... Okay, when you put it that way it IS short notice. No, I won't ever do this if I get married. Look, if it's too much I can take him out, and... No, I'm not suggesting you can't handle it. Mrs. Fieldstone, I'd trust you to handle a state visit from the leaders of the free world. He's coming here at six, so if he doesn't murder me we should be home before seven. He just might, that's all. Yeah, a good dessert might smooth things over. He loves sweets. Thanks. I appreciate this."

William hung up, then sat back, rubbing his face. *Denise is right--I should have done this a long time ago, but fuck me if I can think of a single moment where it wouldn't have been awkward.*

Chase hung up the phone and stood for a moment, quiet, but almost vibrating. Mona had been watching him, following his side of the conversation, and now she said tolerantly, "Let it out." Chase exploded into action, jumping at her and sweeping her into a hug that would have surprised anyone who took him at face value. He jumped up and down several times. "He asked me! He asked me!"

"Lord, boy! I guess it's a good thing that you didn't have a crush on a boy and him ask you to the senior prom. You'd have dropped dead from a heart attack, straight away."

Chase grabbed her cheeks and planted a hard kiss on her mouth. "I'm so happy!" He paused, saying almost absently. "Ew. Woman lips on mine." He shrugged. "Well, it's you. This is great! Oh, Mona!" He hugged her again. "Not only has he asked me to his home, he's invited me to come to his office. He's not worried about what they'll think of me." He sobered a little. "Oo. I guess I'd better dress down a little. Do I even own anything black?"

"I'd offer to loan you something, baby," said Mona fondly, "but anything of mine would swallow you."

"Maybe, but it would be more masculine than most of my things." He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "Maybe I just won't shave--get that manly, stubble-y look."

"Let me see." She rubbed his cheek. "How long has it been?"

"Three days."

"Baby, my grandma could grow more whiskers than you. Go on and shave--it'll give you a reason to use that nice aftershave he gave you. I like that stuff," said Mona. "What's it called?"

"Spice Island. He says it makes me smell like a gingersnap." He bumped her coyly with his hip. "But if I put a little vanilla extract behind my ear, I'll smell like a cinnamon-sugar cookie."

"And he'll want to just eat you up, I guess."

"He'd better." Chase made a small face. "I guess I can get out my 'back home' clothes." He sighed. "I should be grateful that the weather is warm or I'd have to wear flannel, and that's just so butch."

Mona consulted her watch. "We've got a couple of hours." She got her wallet. "C'mon, Peanut, and I'll buy you an early birthday present."

"Mona, I can't let you do that."

"You damn sure can. When am I going to have kids to dress?"

"Well, all right. But you'll have to make it an early Christmas present--you've already bought me birthday presents up to about my thirty-fifth birthday."

Not quite two hours later Mona and Duke were snuggling on the sofa when Chase came out, resplendent in his new outfit--if resplendent was the right word for clothing that wouldn't raise an eyebrow in any mall in America. The pink tint had almost, but not quite, faded from Chase's hair. In his new khakis and navy blue polo shirt he looked like a college freshman--from a conservative college. He made a turn. "Well?"

Duke shrugged. "You look like a normal guy."

"Oh, what a fate," sighed Chase. "But at least I won't have to worry about embarrassing him."

Mona shook her head. "Baby, I don't think you have to worry about that. We been out in public a time or two, and I haven't yet seen him do anything more than smile at any of your antics."

"Yes, but we've been in our sort of places." Mona knew very well what he meant. They'd gone out to a few clubs, the movies, and a restaurant owned by one of their acquaintances. They were 'safe' places--places where the mainstream straights wouldn't be shocked, because they wouldn't be there.

Duke got up, reaching for her leather jacket. "Let's get on the road. Where did you say he works?"

"It's in one of those big buildings downtown, not too far from where we had the pride parade--1440 Market Street, third floor."

Duke kissed Mona's cheek. "Just third floor? You know the office number, right? You go wandering around in one of those places, lookin' lost, and security is liable to take an interest."

"He said I could ask someone up there where the main office was. The main office. That impresses me a couple of different ways. First off it means he's working in a place big enough to have more than one office, and in the second place he's important enough to work in the MAIN office." Chase put on the helmet that Duke handed him. "I'm glad I've kept my hair short. I won't have to worry too much about having helmet hair when I get there." He dropped a peck on Mona's cheek. "If I'm lucky, you won't see me till sometime tomorrow afternoon."

"Have fun, toot." She pinched him. "And stop worryin' about how you're going to reflect on him. He wouldn't have asked you if he didn't think you were going to be a credit to him, and you're going to do fine."

"From your mouth to God's ear."

Duke pulled up in front of a large business building. "Here ya go, Chase--1440." As the boy dismounted, she tipped her head up to look at it. "Damn. Big place."

Chase took off the helmet and fastened it in place on the seat behind her. "Yes. I suppose his company is tucked away in one of those litte maze sort of places. You know, the ones that are like rabbit warrens? Where you hope there isn't a fire because it'll be a job to remember the way out. You and Mona have fun tonight." Duke grinned and wigggled her tongue at him. "Evil woman. I'm so glad you and Mona found each other."

She roared off, and Chase tripped toward the entrance. When he was halfway there a middle-aged man in a dark suit, carrying a briefcase, came out. He gave Chase a 'look' as he started down the street. Chase stopped abruptly. When he started walking again he was moving in a slow, careful manner, concentrating on controling the swing of his hips.

The lobby apparently ran the length of the building. It was a wide, terra cotta tiled hallway, lined on both sides with offices. Some were just doors, some had glass walls looking in on busy rooms. There was a newstand and a nice looking deli situated on opposite sides just inside the door, and an information/security kiosk in the center. The perky young woman in a blazer smiled at him and chirped, "Good evening, sir! Can I help you?"

"Thank you, but I think I can find my way," said Chase. "I just have to go to the third floor."

"Lakeland Limited?"

"I'm... not sure. Is that on the third floor?"

She nodded again. "Third and fourth. What division do you want?"

"Division?"

"Marketing, advertising, personel, accounting, records..."

"Wow. He just said to ask for the main office."

She nodded a third time. "Yes, that's the third floor. Just step off the elevator and there should be a receptionist or secretary who can give you more specific directions."

"Thank you."

"Have a nice day."

"Keep on truckin'." She looked confused. "You have a nice day, too." He got in the elevator and punched 3, muttering, "She knows a mid-seventies cliche, but not an early seventies one?"

The elevator doors slid apart and he stepped out into an open area that looked a bit like the ground floor, but not quite so impersonally decorated. As William had told him, there was a reception desk nearby, manned (or rather 'womanned') by a pleasant looking young woman. Chase approached, and she stopped entering data into a computer, greeting him with a smile that was also a little more personal than the one worn by the downstairs greeter. "Excuse me, but I'm looking for the main office?"

Her smile widened as she studied him. "Just a moment." She tapped an intercom and said, "Mrs. Umbridge, that gentleman has arrived."

A voice answered, "Thanks, Willa. I'll be right there."

Chase was looking around. "This looks like a pleasant place to work."

"It is," said Willa. Her smile widened. "I have a great boss."

"I'm glad to hear that. My friend works here, too," he lowered his voice, "and there's been a time or two I was worried about him being over worked."

"Well, that's how it is when you're..."

"Willa, have you finished with those entries?" The woman in the neat business suit somehow managed not to be rude while interrupting the woman.

"Just about another twenty-minutes worth to go, ma'am."

"It's already past your time off. Why don't you just take care of those tomorrow--they'll keep. Chase? I'm Denise Umbridge." They shook hands. "Come with me and I'll take you to William."

They started down the central hall, the one between the wider halls that led left and right from the elevator. As they walked Chase said, "You're not William's supervisor, are you?"

She chuckled. "No, I'm not. We have worked together for some time, though."

They came to what Chase would have thought of as an 'executive office'. While it was still clearly a workplace, it didn't have the functional, sterile air that most offices did. It was nicely furnished, and might almost have passed as a personal study. Chase looked around in appreciation. "William works here?"

"No, this is my office." She had her hand on the knob of a heavy door, one that had a polished brass plate saying PRESIDENT.

"Oh!" said Chase, impressed. "He never told me he worked for the company president! I had no idea he was so important."

"No, I don't think you did." She opened the door and called. "Will? He's here." She stepped aside, holding the door open for Chase.

He hesitated. "I won't get him in trouble with his boss if I go in, will I?" Chase said doubtfully.

"I can promise you that won't happen."

"All right. It was nice meeting you."

He stepped in, and Denise quickly shut the door. She didn't leave immediately, though. She wasn't normally a snoopy person, but she'd really developed an interest in where this relationship was going. After all, William was a big part of her life, and Chase was a big part of his. Whatever happened between them would affect a lot of people through how it made William feel.

She listened for a moment till she heard Chase's voice raised in urgency. "Will, what are you doing? Get out of his chair before he comes in and fires you..."

She walked away, muttering, "Hurry up, Will. There'll never be a better time--not after you waited this long."

A few seconds before Chase arrives...

William was sitting behind his desk, willing himself to remain calm. *Thank God Chase spoke to me first at the parade. Judging from how nervous I am right now, I'd never have had the nerve to approach him so openly.* He considered getting up and pacing. *Maybe it'll be safer to give him a moving target.* He shook his head. *Stop it. He's never acted violently toward me. But then again, as far as he knows, I've never lied to him. I think I'd have been nervous, though, even before I saw what he was capable of with that mugger asshole.*

He didn't quite jump when the door opened and Denise called, "Will? He's here."

William froze. *Invite him in, idiot!*

He heard Chase say, "I won't get him in trouble with his boss if I go in, will I?" and there was a hint of nervous humbleness in his voice that made Will's heart turn over. He wanted to leap up and go envelope the boy in a hug.

Denise replied, "I can promise you that won't happen."

*Why Denise, I didn't know you had such a dry sense of humor,* William thought.

"All right. It was nice meeting you." Chase stepped through the door, and it closed behind him. In retrospect, Will thought that he should have expected Chase's first reaction, but it took him by surprise. Chase's eyes had darted around the room, then fixed on him. There was a second of pleased recognition, then surprise, and apprehension. "Will, what are you doing? Get out of his chair before he comes in and fires you!"

"That's not a problem, hon." William tried to keep his voice calming. "I..."

"I'm serious!" Chase hurried over, coming behind the desk. He grabbed William's hand and started trying to tug him to his feet. Chase was strong for his size, but as much as William outweighed his smaller lover, he wasn't going anywhere unless he decided to. "Will! If you get fired I don't know what we'll do! Bootsie is still staying with us, and he'd offer to sleep on the couch, but... Get up!"

"Chase!" Chase stopped, still gripping William's hand, and stared at him. "This is my chair." Chase continued to stare. "My office. My company."

"The... It's named Lakeland Limited," said Chase, as if trying to reason with someone. "Your name isn't Lakeland."

"No, but it was my mother's maiden name. Dad married the boss' daughter, but not until after the old man retired and left him in charge."

"Lakeland... You rent this entire floor?"

"And the fourth, and I don't rent--I own."

Chase dropped his hand and took a step back, staring at William as if he'd never seen him before. William supposed that in a way, this was true. Chase had never seen him in a suit--William had always changed into casual clothes before going to meet him. Finally, voice faintly accusatory, he said, "You're rich."

"Not compaired to a lot of people. I'm..." he trailed off at Chase's look. "I'm rich," he agreed.

"I see." Chase pointed at a door. "Is that a closet?"

"No, it's my washroom."

"The fabled executive washroom?"

"I guess. Chase..."

"Excuse me." Chase walked over and went into the washroom, shutting the door.

William closed his eyes when he heard the lock engage. "Oh, shit." He went over to the washroom and knocked on the door. "Chase?" No response. "Babe?" Still nothing. He sighed. He tapped again. "Talk to me, Chase. I know I was stupid, but you have to give me a chance to explain."

"Ha!"

William winced. *Oo, not good.* He continued to rap and talk for close to fifteen minutes with no more sound from the other side of the door. He was starting to get genuinely worried. "Are you all right? Should I call for help?"

"No." The voice was acidic. "Do I sound like I'm having hysterics?"

Even though he sounded pissed, William was just so grateful to get any response that he slumped against the door. "Look, I know you're upset..."

"Oh, you've got that right."

"C'mon and open the door, and we'll talk."

"Now he wants to talk. We've been together for over a month, and he picks NOW to tell me that he isn't what I thought he was." Chase paused. His voice was very calm when he continued. "This is a very nice washroom, William. Does it have a telephone?"

"A...? No, no telephone."

"Well, that's a shame. If there was a phone I could call Duke to come get me without having to see either of your faces."

"Aw, Chase, don't be like that."

"Like what? Righteously indignant?"

"I'm not gonna believe that you won't at least give me a chance to explain." Pause. "Please?"

He heard the lock disengage, and he closed his eyes briefly, mouthing 'thank you'. The door opened a crack, and Chase peered out at him, brows lowered, expression sullen. "Well?"

"Either come out here or let me come in there. Significant discussions should not happen through an ajar door."

"Step back. I'm not about to let you in here with me. I know what you're capable of in washrooms."

Chase came out, but just barely. He stood stiffly, arms folded, and glared at William. Then suddenly his hand darted out and he punched William in the shoulder--one solid shot that jarred William a half-step back--then folded he arms again.

"Ow!" William rubbed the sore place. "Damn. You've got quite a punch."

"For a sissy."

"For anyone. I had that coming to me."

"Yes, you did, and I had to get it out of the way."

"Does that mean you're going to let me explain?"

"It means I'm going to at least listen, and I won't try to hit you again unless you say something unforgivable."

William groaned. "No pressure."

"Well?"

William had been dreading this confrontation, but he was still surprised by how much Chase's anger hurt. Perhaps it was because he could see that Chase was hurt as well. "I'm sorry."

"That's a start, but it's not enough."

"I know, but I figured I'd better apologize early and often. I am sorry, babe..." He reached toward Chase, but the younger man twitched away from his touch.

"Don't. I don't like you very much right now. Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't lie to you. I just didn't tell you everything."

Chase bared his teeth. "If you're going to cop out like that, I'm going right back in and locking the door."

William held up his hands in a 'peace' gesture. "Yes, you're right. Sorry again."

"I swear--trying to get away with that excuse. Maybe you didn't lie, but if you were an attorny the judge would have you up on charges of concealment."

"You watch a lot of Law and Order."

"All the series, and the CSIs, too. I'm as versed as you can get without being a paralegal, and quit being charming. The facts are you're filthy rich, and you've been letting me think that you're a simple white collar cubicle dwelling drone. Why?"

"The first few days we were together I honestly didn't see any point in making an issue of it, and after that..." he shrugged, embarrassed. "After that I hesitated because I hadn't told you, and the time just stretched. The longer I went, the more idiotic I felt."

"How astute."

William put his hands on his hips. "Come on, Chase. Maybe we play games, but I've never given you verbal humiliation, have I?" There was a minute thawing in Chase's attitude. "Look, I believe that I'm guilty more of bad judgement than dishonesty. Yes, I should have mentioned my finances before now, but when?" Chase opened his mouth, then closed it without saying anything, and William nodded. "If I'd told you the moment we met I'd have been bragging, wouldn't I? What do you think of someone who says 'Hello, baby! I'm loaded with cash. Stick with me and you'll be styling'?" He was encouraged when he saw the corners of Chase's lips twitch. "Or maybe I should have waited till we were in a club and some other guy came up to flirt with you? I could have said 'Back off. You can't give him bling like I can.' Wouldn't that say that I thought you could be bought?"

Chase had relaxed a little, and he was looking thoughtful. "But you know that's not true."

"I know it's not true," William agreed. "If it was you'd have taken that club owner up on his invitation to party in the VIP lounge at The Chasm."

"That snot didn't invite you. I couldn't leave you just to go hob-nob."

"A lot of people would have, but that's not you. See, babe, I know that the money doesn't mean much to you."

"Don't kid yourself. I'd rather have double my paycheck."

"Who wouldn't? But you just said it--your paycheck. You want to work for what you have. I was just hoping that the money wouldn't make that big a difference to you. And I'll tell you, Chase--if I was wrong, I'm going to regret it more than anything else in my life."

Chase finally relaxed back to a normal stance. "I guess you don't live in a crackerbox, either."

"Seven bedrooms."

"Seven?"

"One's a downstairs for a live in maid, but my housekeeper comes in daily."

"Housekeeper? Oh, God--I knew it! I'm the nameless ingenue, you're Maxim, and you've got Mrs. Danvers lurking around Manderlay."

William felt relieved. "If you're throwing classic movie references at me, you must have decided to forgive me."

"I'm still irritated, but I suppose so." Chase kept his arms crossed, but he allowed William to hug him, and he muttered, "Big, bad Dom begging a little nelly boy for forgiveness." He rubbed his cheek on William's lapel. "I won't tell any of the other Daddies."

William cuddled him. "You're a sweet boy."

"I know."

He laughed. "And you're a brat." He kissed the top of Chase's head. "We need to go, or Mrs. Fieldstone will be as ticked with me as you were. She's been obsessing about not having enough time to cook, and if I spoil the timing of her meal..."

"I like her already. Let's go."

"Oh, hang on a couple of minutes. I want to change before we go, so that I don't have to delay a minute when we get home." William had gone to a closet, removing his suit jacket.

Chase went and sat on the edge of the desk. He had to hop slightly, and his toes ended up swinging a couple of inches from the floor. "This is the first time I've seen you in a suit." William was unbuttoning his shirt. "You look good. You're sort of like Gary Cooper--he could look good in anything from chaps to a tuxedo." William pulled off his shirt, and Chase finally smiled a little. "You're wearing your cuffs."

"Always. They remind me of who I really am."

"Heh. The thought of you sitting in a buisness meeting, hiding that leather..." The shirt was off, and Chase saw the glint of silver on William's chest. His gasp was almost a squeal, and William thought gratefully that things were going to be all right. "And the rings, too! Oo. I just had a fantasy of you standing in front of a table of suits, giving a report, stripped to the waist."

"Don't think I haven't thought about that, too." He slipped into a T-shirt. He reached for his belt.

Chase held up his hand. "Stop right there. Don't you go taking your pants off in front of me till I'm good and over my mad. I don't believe in angry sex, and I don't want us getting together till this has well and truly blown over."

William went to stand before him. "So we are going to get past this?"

Chase bit his lip. "I think so. After all, it isn't your fault that you're rich."

"Some of it is. I've been doing pretty well for the company since I took over." Chase raised an eyebrow. "I'm not bragging." He leaned toward Chase. "Isn't it okay for a man to let his sweetheart know that he can take care of him?"

Chase wiggled his shoulders. "Yes. I don't think I've ever known anyone who wasn't living pretty close to the ragged edge. I'll just have to get used to it."

They walked out to the parking garage. As they climbed into the Thunderbird, Chase said, "You know, I should have guessed when I saw this car. Usually if your average mortal has such a meticulously maintained classic car, he has to live off noodles and peanut butter to afford it. And that kilt you gave me wasn't off-the-rack from WalMart. The fabric was too good a quality."

"How could you tell?"

"One--no mass production labels, and two--I'm gay, I know fabric. That sporran isn't dyed rat, is it?"

"No. Chinchilla."

Chase smiled. "Thank heavens I'm not a PETA member. And that SUV wasn't really your housekeeper's?"

"It is, sort of. I usually leave it for her use, but it is in my name."

"Any other surprises for me?"

"Well, if you count the Jaguar, and the place at the lake."

"Oh, I wish you'd told me about that. We could have gone and spent a weekend."

"We will sometime, but it should be more than a weekend. Y'see it's at lake Tahoe, but it's only three bedrooms." Chase slumped. "Chase?"

"Don't talk to me for a while. I'm processing." They drove in silence. Silence, but William could almost hear the gears turning in Chase's mind. Chase might not have paid attention to significant details so far, but he was far from stupid, and he was putting things together. Finally he said, "Were you the generous patron who paid Bootsie's bills?"

"Yes, but I'd rather you didn't tell him about that. He might... Hey! Wait till we're off the main road!"

Chase had leaned over as far as his seat belt would allow, thrown his arms around William's neck, and was kissing him vigorously on the cheek. "Oh, if I didn't have to stay belted in to keep you from getting a ticket you'd be getting some spectacular snuggling right now!"

"Can I get a raincheck?"

"Hell, yes. But Willy, don't take this as setting a precident. If we stay together and you piss me off, it might not always be so easy to get back on my goodside. I mean, you can only reveal yourself as Lord Bountiful so many times. Are we there yet, daddy?"

"We're close."

Chase was peering around at the houses. None of them looked like they had less than ten rooms, all lawns were neatly manicured, with florishing flowerbeds, and none of the cars parked in the drives were in need of repairwork or a wash. "Wow. This isn't quite Beverly Hillbilly territory, but it darn sure isn't Dogpatch. I bet they decorate like a bunch of mad fairy bitches at Christmas time."

"Sometimes I think that from Thanksgiving to New Years you can pick out this neighborhood from space. Epileptics stear clear because of all the blinking lights. That's mine, with the SUV in the drive."

As they pulled in, Chase said. "Oh, it's nice. But that lawn is so plain. You need something--a gnome, or a flamingo."

William laughed. "You know, I'd love to see how the landscaping committee would react to that."

Chase shrugged as he unbuckled his seat. "Wildflowers? At least I didn't suggest having your house numbers done in glitter."

As they entered the house a pleasant, but slightly frazzled looking, woman stepped out into the hall. She looked at first slightly irritated, then relieved, and then pleased. "I was about to put your food back into the oven, and I'll tell you right now--it would have been ruined."

"Hello to you, too, Mrs. Fieldstone," said William cheerfully, leading Chase down the hall. "This is my friend Chase."

Chase extended his hand, beaming at her. "Hello! You're not at all like Judith Anderson."

Mrs. Fieldstone blinked. "Beg pardon?"

Chase made his voice hissing. "Why don't you go? Why don't you leave Manderley? He doesn't need you... he's got his memories. He doesn't love you, he wants to be alone again with her. You've nothing to stay for. You've nothing to live for really, have you?"

Mrs. Fieldstone's eyes had been widening through Chase's speech, but they suddenly lighted with understanding, and she grinned. "Oh, I love that movie! 'I wish I were a woman of 36, dressed in black satin with a string of pearls."

"Why not? It would work for Donna Reed."

She laughed. "You two sit down so I can serve and get home." As she turned to go to the kitchen she said to William, "Why on earth haven't your brought him around before now?"

William ushered Chase into the dining room, calling after her, "I've been asking myself that."

William and Chase paused just inside the dining room. "Oh, my God!" breathed Chase. "Co-ordinated tablecloth, place mats, and linen napkins, napkins folded into a fancy shape!"

"Wow," said William mildly. "I'd almost forgotten I had those. My mother bought them for me when I moved out. Said they were in case I ever had a girlfriend and wanted to convince her I was civilized. I believe this is the first time they've ever been used."

"Oo. I'll be afraid to get them stained."

Mrs. Fieldstone was carrying in a breadbasket. "Don't worry about that--I'm a bit of a genius at getting out spots. And as for them never being used--whose fault is that?"

"I'd feel silly using them when it's just me," said William. As he spoke, he automatically pulled out a chair, waiting for Chase to sit. Chase stared at him in surprise for a moment, then allowed William to tuck the chair under him as he sat. The gesture had been natural and unforced. William hadn't really thought about it. When he had dated women, he'd done the same. He would have done so for his male dates, but the few times he'd tried he'd been met with either derision or affront. He was pleased that Chase had accepted the gesture, and he gave the boy's shoulder a lingering stroke as he moved around the corner of the table to his own seat.

Chase was admiring his place setting. "Gracious, this looks exactly like one of the place settings in the illustrations of one of Mom's books about cooking and how to run a household--circa 1950 or 40. You know, I think this is the first time I've ever sat down to more than one plate and more than one fork? I'm just glad that I actually read that Emily Post book, so I don't have to fumble." He picked up a knife, weighing it in his hand, then looked at William. "This is actual silver, isn't it?"

"Well..."

"Did they pop one of the spoons in your mouth before they wrapped you up in the nursery?"

"Chase..."

"Oh, all right. But you're going to have to expect to be teased a little, at least till I get used to the idea that you're not living paycheck to paycheck."

Mrs. Fieldstone returned bearing a china soup tureen. "Mister William, I need to get you to serve this. I have something boiling on the stove."

"Happy to." William stood, lifting the lid.

Chase leaned forward as William lifted out a ladleful of soup and poured it in his plate. It was very pale green, and creamy. "That's the most beautiful color I've ever seen in a soup. Pea, or asparagus? It's not really dark enough for spinach."

Mrs. Fieldstone was watching him, her expression pleased. "Actually it's Palestine soup. It's..."

"Artichokes."

Mrs. Fieldstone sounded surprised, "Jerusalem artichokes. I haven't run into many people who know that."

"Well, I certainly didn't expect anything so exotic. Thank you."

"You're welcome." She tilted her head toward William. "He acts like he wouldn't know the difference between fresh and canned Campbell's."

"I can't fuss about Campbell's--I've used it extensively, since I can seldom afford the time or cash to make my own stocks and such." He snorted. "If I boil up a chicken carcase or beef bone with herbs and veggies, I can't afford to strain them out and just use the stock--it's soup. And maybe between you and me," he winked at her, "we can educate his palate a little."

"Fieldy," said William, serving his own soup plate, "didn't you say something about something boiling?"

"My noodles!" She hurried out.

"Goodness. I do hope her noodles aren't overdone," said Chase. But the way he said it, eyes wide and innocent, he made it sound risque. William had sat down, and now he folded his hands, looking at Chase expectantly. Feeling touched, Chase said, "This is your house, Will. You don't have to."

"I'd be pleased if you'd go ahead and say grace," said William. He smiled, shrugging sheepishly. "I think it helps my digestion."

Chase recited the short, simple prayer, then dipped up a sip of soup, sampling it. "This is utterly fantastic. I need the recipe from her."

"She'll probably write it up on a card for you."

"Wonderful. I have a collection in my own itty-bitty ring notebook. If I ever get a computer I'm going to fill the hard drive, and maybe set up my own recipe site. Something like Chase's Choices."

They finished the soup, with Chase using the time to quiz William about his business. Now that he'd opened up, William didn't try to hold back any information, and Chase was shaking his head by the end of the soup course. "I knew I had a daddy--I just didn't know he was Daddy Warbucks."

"I always thought there was something hinky about his relationship with Annie," said William.

"Heathen." Mrs. Fieldstone had removed the soup, and now she brought in two plates, cradling them carefully with hot pads. "Oh, I get warmed plates and everything!"

"Of course you do," said Mrs. Fieldstone, setting a plate before him. "There's a right way to do things." Chase was happily examining the cheesy noodles, glazed carrot coins, and golden chicken breast on his plate. "You might want to tuck that napkin in your collar if you want to avoid stains."

"I was going to say Cordon Blue, but I guess that means that this is Chicken Kiev."

"It is, with Romanoff noodles."

"Don't worry--I've had extensive training in eating lusciously drippy things." William's fork clattered against his plate. "What?" Chase saw his blush, and his quick glance at Mrs. Fieldstone. "Oh, for heaven's sake! I didn't mean that. Get your mind out of the gutter." Mrs. Fieldston, trying not to laugh, left the room, and Chase continued quietly, "...at least till after supper." They started eating. "Now, explain what your company does again."

"The original company was over the counter pharmaceuticals, but the founder had some integrity and foresight. He stopped using harmful ingredients like opium derivatives long before the patent medicine crackdown. He went over to vitamins and natural supliments, and he racked up during the health craze around the turn of the century."

"And that's what you're in now?"

"That's still the mainstay, but each generation has diversified and expanded. You know Healthlux Foods?"

"Oh, yes! I have a diabetic friend, and he says that they're expensive, but some of the few things on the market that are actually as advertised, and taste good."

"That was started by my father. The family has stayed hooked into the legitimate drug industry, and he saw the rise in diabetes, and aimed for the market." William shrugged. "I've had some people tell me how self-serving that was, making money off someone's misfortune, but hell--would they rather we didn't provide the product? We can't afford to do it at a loss, and we don't take nearly as high a profit as we could get away with."

"He's handsome, sexy, considerate, romantic, rich, and philanthropic. Will you marry me?"

William smiled. "I can't cook."

"That doesn't matter--I can. So, Healthlux, and the 'good for you' pills, and such."

"And the packaging plant. We do work for other products as well as our own, and the advertising division does the same. Then there's the small catering firm, and I just got through making a deal with Resurge to develope and present a diabetic safe line of sports-energy drinks."

Chase sat back, staring at him. "Resurge? As in 'commercial on the Superbowl that costs as much as the net income of my entire home county per minute' Resurge?"

"The one with the cat Olympics--yeah. We designed that one for them last year, and that's when we started negotiating for the new product line. We're ready to begin developement now."

"Did you write it?"

"No." William grinned. "But I did suggest the high jump sandpit-as-litterbox bit."

"Oh!" Chase put his napkin over his face, laughing helplessly. "Oh, God, the look on that athlete's face as he tried to learn how to fly rather than land in that sand after all the cats vacated!"

"I got to watch them film it. You have no idea how hard it is to wrangle that many cats. Take a shot, round them up, sift the sand. Take a shot, round them up, sift the sand."

"Sift the sand?"

"They were method actors."

When Mrs. Fieldstone brought the dessert in, Chase was resting his forehead on the table beside his plate, shoulders shaking weakly. Concerned, Mrs. Fieldstone put down the two slices of cheesecake and stared at William accusingly as she put her hand on Chase's back. "Are you all right?" Chase lifted a tear streaked face to her, and she glared at William. "What did you...?" Chase giggled, and she looked at him questioningly.

Chase giggled again. "Sandpit." She blinked at him. "Sandpit. Mmmr-row!" He swooped his hand in a diving motion, then stopped it abruptly, fingers splaying spasticly. "Ack!"

She burst out laughing, too. When she caught her breath again, she said, "When my husband and I saw that, we got beer and popcorn all over the livingroom rug, but it was worth it." She looked at William. "I need to get home." She was reaching for the empty dinner plates. "I'll rinse these and..."

"No, you won't," said Chase. He patted her hand. "After such a delicious meal, the least I can do it clean up a bit to say thank you."

"Would you like to be adopted?" She looked at William. "I may be a little late tomorrow. Good-bye. Chase, it was a pleasure meeting you."

"Likewise."

She left, and Chase said, "I think we've just had a blessing on our sleep over."

"Not needed," said William, "but appreciated. So, you are sleeping over tonight?"

"Well yes. I have to see how a rich man sleeps. Do you have a round bed? Satin sheets? Vibrating mattress?"

"I'm not Hugh Hefner, Chase."

"Too bad. I'd make a terrific bunny." He handed a slice of cheesecake over to William. "This looks wonderful, but just plain? No sweetened sour cream? No chocolate sauce?"

William gave him a slow, wicked smile. "There's a little bit of Hershey's Syrup in the fridge, but couldn't we find something more interesting to drizzle it on than the cheesecake... Chase, slow down, or you'll choke."

Chase sat with his elbows propped on the table, resting his chin in his hands as he watched William. He was studying his lover with all the intensity of a medical student who had been invited to watch a top notch cardiac surgeon doing open heart surgery. William was much more placid. He continued eating calmly, which seemed to exasperate Chase, who was figiting. Finally the young man said, "Are you going to take all night eating that?"

William took another bite, holding the tines of the fork in him mouth and almost letting the cake dissolve. Then he withdrew the fork slowly and said, "I am not taking all night. I'm just eating it in more than four bites--unlike some people I could name."

"Well, I can't just sit here." Chase stood up, taking his empty plate, fork, and glass. "I'll put these in the dishwasher, and make sure there's nothing else that needs to be tidied up."

Just as he was disappearing into the kitchen William called, "Chocolate syrup is in the refridgerator door." Chase paused and glared back at him. "Just so you don't have to rummage all through the cabinets, like you were planning to."

"Snot." Chase disappeared into the kitchen. William finished eating his dessert while he heard water run, then the thunk of the dishwasher door. He smiled when he heared the refrigerator door open and close, too. Chase came back in, carrying a bottle of Hershey Chocolate Syrup. He set it on the table in front of William, then put his hands on his hips. "Well?"

William put down his fork, quickly snaked an arm around Chase's waist, jerked him close, and leaned over, nipping his belly through his shirt. He then pushed Chase away, turning him, and gave him a brisk smack on the ass. "Bedroom is the second one on the right, down the hall. Go get undressed while I finish up the kitchen." Chase started to reach for the bottle. "Leave the syrup."

"Well, all right, Mister Forceful." He twitched his hips as he made his way out of the dining room.

William shook his head, smiling, as he took his own plate into the kitchen. There wasn't much to do. After putting the final items in the dishwasher he added the detergent and turned it on. He went back into the dining room and picked up the bottle, feeling its side. *Yep, still cold. Perfect.*

William walked back to his bedroom and paused in anticipation outside the door. A naked Chase was always something to look forward to, but this would be the first time he'd see his lover naked in his own home. It added a layer of intimacy, and the very thought had added to his excitement.

He wasn't disappointed. Chase had turned off the overhead lights and lit the bedside limp. It had a gold colored shade, and threw a warm glow over the room. William had a maroon quilted satin spread, and Chase had arranged himself on it. He was a delicious looking sprawl of creamy skin that looked as smooth as the satin. The pink rinse had almost faded from his hair, but the lights bouncing off the deep red of the spread still picked up glints. He was on his side, back to the door, peeking back at William over his shoulder. "You look just like a painting by Ingres--The Grande Odalisque."

"What, pray tell, is an odalisque? It sounds like a Moorish building."

"Maybe you're thinking of an oubliette--that's a dungeon. An odalisque is a harem girl--a concubine, or a love slave."

"Ooo. I think I like the sound of that." He turned on his back, stretching luxuriously, and grasped the headboard. "Do I get chains?"

William felt a stir of warmth in his groin. "Someday, if you're very good."

There was dark promise in William's voice, and it made Chase shiver delightedly. Chase's gaze followed the bottle of syrup as Will set it on the dresser, but his eyes quickly bounced back when William started stripping. He enjoyed the flex of muscle in his lover's torso as William pulled the T-shirt over is head, and he watched the light glint off the silver hoops of Will's nipple rings. "You know, if I was an unscrupulous sort I could take pictures, then make my fortune putting them up on the net, or making posters."

Willima shook his head, smiling. "Not at this stage of the strip. You'd have to wait for the money shot." He pulled off the rest of his clothes, then posed in the classic military 'parade rest' position, legs slightly spread. "How about this?"

"Oh, I could retire on that." William got the bottle and strolled toward the bed. As he got closer, Chase started to sit up, reaching for it. "Give me that and I'll..."

"Did I say you could let go of that headboard?" William's voice was suddenly firm.

Chase lay back down quickly, eyes widening in anticipation as he once again gripped the headboard. William had gradually been becoming more forceful in his directions in their lovemaking. It was still lovemaking--not just sex--but he'd made it clear that he was in charge of their joinings, and Chase loved it. A few of his friends had scolded him about his tendency toward submissiveness in his love life, claiming that he was in some way demeaning himself. They even hinted that he was letting homosexuals as a group down. He told them cheerfully to go peddle their papers. It was just a personal choice, and if he didn't feel used... He sang them a verse of 'It Ain't Nobody's Business If I Do'.

William sat beside Chase on the bed, their hips brushing, and he reached out with his free hand, skimming it over Chase's bare belly. He smiled when the muscles rippled in response. "You're such a sensitive little thing." His fingers skated around Chase's bellybutton. "Aren't you?"

"Yes, sir," Chase breathed.

William popped up the nozzle top of the bottle. "Then I'm afraid you're going to find this a little cold." Chase's eyes followed as William put his thumb over the nozzle, then up ended the bottle, holding it over his belly. "Close your eyes." Chase closed his eyes, bracing for the coldness on his stomach. When instead a soft, icy trickle of liquid landed on his right nipple, he jerked in shock, squeaking. "Warned you, didn't I?" William sounded amused. "Keep 'em closed."

Chase's other nipple received a dribble, too, then he felt the chilly liquid drop in swirls and loops over his chest, down his belly. When it reached his lower abdomen, Chase's nipples had drawn up into tight, hard buds, from a combination of physical cold and sexual heat. He was tensing for the first splash on his cock when instead it landed on his thigh. "William, didn't you miss something?"

"Not likely to miss that, honey," said William. "After all, you're pointing at me now." More cold liquid dripped on Chase's other thigh. "I'll get to it. Just you be patient for a little while. Patience is a virtue, and it shall be rewarded."

"If you say so--oh!" The coolness on his right nipple was suddenly wiped away by the lapping of a warm, wet tongue. Chase hummed happily as William licked away the chocolate coating, then drew the little peak into his mouth, sucking and nibbling. He left it--damp, clean, and aching slightly--and licked his way across Chase's chest, then began to minister to the other nipple in the same way.

William and Chase had already learned well how to please each other. Both men had particularly sensitve nipples, and a great deal of attention was paid to this errogenous zone every time they had sex, but William was outdoing himself tonight. Encouraged by the way Chase arched and moaned, he was even more aggressive than usual, pinching and scraping lightly with his teeth. But he was careful to go only so far, and no further. He stopped while the sensation was more a tingle than pain, and began to make his way downward.

He'd created a little puddle in the cup of Chase's navel, and he licked and sucked it out in a leisurely manner that drove Chase insane. He had to be crazy, given what he did next. Chase reached down and grabbed William's hair. William froze. He didn't try to escape Chase's grasp, but he said softly, "Boy."

Chase let go gingerly, murmuring, "Sorry." He reached up quickly and took his instructed position again.

William turned his head, gazing up the length of his lover's torso. He didn't raise his voice. "Oh, you know it's not going to be that easy, don't you?"

"Yes, sir." He paused, and tried to make his next words sound contrite. "Are you gonna spank me?"

William rested his cheek on the damp, freshly cleaned skin of Chase's belly. "I'm not sure I should. I think you'd like it too much." One hand slid blindly down Chase's thigh, skimming through the dribble of syrup. He popped his finger in his mouth, sucking off the dark smear as Chase watched avidly. "Y'see, I don't want you to think about spankies as a punishment. I think you can see them as a treat, if I work it right. So I think what I'm going to have to do is come up with another form of punishment. Nothing too bad, since this is your first transgression." He thought. "You know, I was going to go straight from your navel to sucking your cock. Instead I'm going to have to clean up the rest of the syrup. So, no blowjob tonight."

"William!" It was almost a wail.

"Hush. You're going to come, baby--just not like that. Now, hold still while I get the rest of this off you."

Chase did as he was told, but it was a struggle. The muscles in his thighs jumped under the soft swabbing of William's tongue. His cock was fully engorged and, as he termed it, 'crying for attention'. It lay up along his belly, drizzling a clear pre-seminal fluid. "Will?" He nodded his chin toward the liquid shine. "That's just going to waste."

"Give it up, Chase. Now, have I missed anything? Oo, there's a spot." He licked the crease where Chase's thigh met his groin, and Chase whimpered. "Aw, poor little man. Lay still, now, or I'll stop right here." He reached up, gripped Chase's erection, and gave him two firm strokes. Chase dug his heels into the mattress, but managed to refrain from thrusting into William's grip. "Good boy." William gave him another stroke, then at on the edge of the bed and patted his lap. "Drape yourself here."

Chase obeyed quickly, wiggling into position, making sure that his cock rubbed against William's bare leg. This was a violation of the spirit of the order, but William didn't call him on it. Instead he rubbed first one buttock, then the other. "This isn't a punishment, Chase."

"I know."

"You can say no if you want to."

"I don't want to." Chase moved slightly, slipping his arm around William's waist for a quick hug. "I mean I don't want to say no. I do want you to paddle my po-po."

Chase got back into position, and William bent down for a moment to return the hug. "Just a little this first time, baby. Just enough to make it sweet." He sat back up and, without further words, brought the flat of his hand down sharply on Chase's ass. Chase jerked in surprise. He'd been expecting more of a tap, something experimental. He realized that he was about to well and truly enter the world of erotic spanking. The thought that William thought he was ready made him feel both excited and proud. He was ready for the second slap, and relished it.

William spanked Chase in a steady rhythm, giving him half-force blows, watching as the pale curves pinkened, then reddened. Chase didn't speak, but he was making breathy little grunts, jerking forward a couple of inches with each strike. That rubbed his cock against William's thigh, so that he was humping him. William had been getting hard before he took Chase across his lap, and now he was engorged, almost to the point of aching.

Normally William would have gone ahead and prepared Chase, stretching him open as he lay across his lap, but this time... He bent down and embraced the boy lying on his lap, pressing his face between Chase's shoulder blades. Chase, voice breathy, said, "No more?"

William laughed. "What's your safe word, Chase?"

"If I tell you, do you promise not to take it seriously and stop?"

"Yes. I just need to know that you remember it, and will use it if you can."

"It's daisy, now do something to me--please!"

William slipped his arms under Chase and stood, lifting him easily, then deposited him face down on the bed. "Don't move. I'll be right back." He went into the bathroom.

Chase groaned, feeling his stiff cock digging into the mattress, but he did as he was told. He heard water start running, and smiled. "Oo, I get a bath."

A little later William returned and again sat beside him. "Start relaxing, Chase." Chase felt his buttocks parted, and a dribble of slick liquid ran down the crease. Then William began to massage it into the tender skin. There was an immediate warmth, and William explained, "Cinnamon oil. It warms a little--but don't worry, it's just a little." He slipped one finger deep into Chase's ass, and it slid in easily. "Mm. Good--this isn't going to take long. Don't want the tub to overflow." He pumped a few times, and Chase made noises as he pushed in the second finger. "Just a little more, baby. For what I have in mind, it's better if you're a little tighter than usual. There's going to be less friction."

William worked a little more, then pulled free and smacked Chase's ass one more time. "That'll do. Sit up." Chase did so as William set aside the bottle of lube. William extended his arms toward Chase. "Come to Daddy." Knowing what he wanted, Chase stood up, put his arms around William's neck, and gave a little hop. William caught him easily, cradling him like a child (or any romance novel heroine), and carried him to the bathroom.

"Oh. My. God!" exclaimed Chase, gazing around with awe.

"Nice, isn't it?" said William, carrying him to the tub.

"Nice?! This is where good spa designers want to go when they die. It's... It's luscious. It's like something one of those 1930's movie divas would have had. I expect an ethnic maid to come in leading a poodle at any minute."

William set Chase on his feet. "I'm going to let you get in yourself, because I'm not going to risk dropping you, or slipping." He leaned over and turned off the water while Chase continued to look around.

The bathroom was almost as large as the living room at his own apartment. It was decorated in Art Deco style, with gleaming black tile on the floor and white tile on the walls. There was a large shower in one corner, looking big enough for half a basketball team to have an after game shower (he found out later that three was more like it, but it did have six shower nozzles situated at different levels on three walls). There were yards of marble counters, more yards of mirrors, and the fixtures were brushed nickle. The main attraction, though, was an in-floor tub that was larger than a child's wading pool. There was a set of hand rails leading down into the tub. It was filled with steaming water, and mounds of faintly pink, fragrant bubbles.

Chase clasped his hands. "Oh, bubbles! I'm almost not disappointed about no sucky-sucky--almost."

William rubbed Chase's hair. "I'm going in first. Then you come in, and sit between my legs, okay?"

"More than okay." William entered the tub, positioning himself, then patted the water. Chase carefully climbed in, putting his back to William, and started to sit down. "Hold it." Chase froze. "Just a second, sweetheart." William reached up and gripped Chase's hip. "Okay, slowly. Hold onto the rail, so you don't slip. Okay, v-e-r-y slowly, now."

Chase lowered himself inch by inch. He felt the bubbles brush the back of his thighs, then his butt. He felt William's free hand spread his cheeks, then a firm nudge. William couldn't see his face, but his expression lit up. "I think you have sea monsters in your tub."

"Sea serpents," William agreed, "and you're about to experience deep rising." His cockhead slipped inside, getting him seated. Now he took hold of Chase's waist with both hands. "Now, come the rest of the way down, carefully. Remember, baby, I have to be in a fit state to make you happy, and that will be hard to do if I'm squashed."

"Don't worry." Chase settled, feeling himself gradually filled by William. At last he was sitting on William's lap, fully engulfing his lover. Chase wiggled, and William groaned. "You make SUCH a nice seat, Will. This is the deepest tub I've ever been in." He patted the tub rim. "Well, when I was first allowed to bathe myself they seemed this deep." The tub rim would have just fitted comfortably under Chase's arm, and the water lapped up over his navel, cradling him in warm, liquid comfort.

Chase looked around the tub, trying to decide the best way to brace himself, so that he could move up and down. "How are we going to do this, Will? The bottom is too slick for me to get traction, and I'll strain something if I..."

William reached around, putting his hand across Chase's forehead, and pulled him back so that he rested against William's chest, his head dropping naturally to lay on William's shoulder. "Chase, baby, will you just chill? Sometimes you don't have to do anything." He scooped up two handfuls of bubbles and began to rub them lazily across Chase's torso. "I'm going to take good care of you tonight."

"Tonight?" Chase sighed. "Will, you always take good care of me."

William nipped Chase's earlobe and whispered into his ear, making him shiver. "Don't try to speed things up, Chasers. Just sit still, and enjoy."

Chase did as he was told, luxuriating in warmth, erotic pleasure, and the sense of being cherished. William spent long moments rubbing the bubbles all over Chase, scrubbing away any invisible sugar film that might have remained. Then he shifted a little, and his deeply buried cock bumped Chase's prostate, earning a whimper. "Bend forward a little, baby." Chase did. From his vantage point he saw William brace his feet firmly on the wall of the tub at the end. "I'm going to scoot us foreward. You place your feet like mine, between mine. Got it?"

"Yes, and I hope to get even more." Chase placed his feet. "Ready."

"Good, because I was going to have to start fucking even if you weren't." William wrapped his arms around Chase's waist and pushed backward a couple of inches. Before he could slip out of the sheath of Chase's body he slid forward, again reaching the limit. The result of the maneuver was a short, deep thrust. It was wonderful. Chase didn't have the chance to feel empty.

They rocked together in an almost gentle rhythm. Chase's constant breathy moans excited William even more. "Chase, darlin', I'm gonna let go of your waist. I'm going to trust you to have enough control to not go wild. If you try to make bigger motions I'm going to slip right out..." He bit Chase's shoulder, "and we don't want that."

"I can do that," Chase muttered. "But what are you going to be doing?"

"This." William reached into Chase's lap and wrapped both hands around the boy's turgid prick, and began to masturbate him quickly. Chase stiffened his spine, yelping, but he kept to the motion that William had set up. Chase's prostate was being prodded steadily, and he felt like he would go insane if he didn't find some sort of release soon.

William was feeling the same, but he was focussing on bringing Chase to the peak. He knew that by pleasing him, he'd please himself best. He suddenly felt a strong pulse between his palms, and his hand was bathed with a liquid as warm as the bathwater, but thicker, while Chase crooned, "Willlll-iammm... mmmmm..." He dropped bonelessly back against his lover. William again gripped his waist. He lifted Chase a little, intending to move him up and down till he found his own release.

His hands slipped, and Chase sat down suddenly. At the same instant Chase squinted his eyes, bit his lip, and bore down as hard as he could with the muscles lining his back passage. William jerked, grabbing Chase's arm with one hand and the tub rim with the other, and he almost howled as his orgasm seemed to be sucked out of him. He could hear Chase chortling in pleased triumph as the last few pulses died away.

"You brat!" William said breathlessly.

"Well," said Chase, tipping his head back and managing to kiss William on the side of his jaw, "I thought that the first time in your home should be special. Was it?"

William hugged him, nuzzling his neck. "Any more special and I don't think I'd have had the strength to get out of this tub. In fact, since you're standing up, I'm going to want you to give me a hand up. It would hardly do for me to masterfully fuck you, then fall on my prat."

Chase giggled as he climbed out of the tub, then let William hold his arm as he stood up and got out of the tub. The towels turned out to be more like terry-cloth sheets, and they'd been hanging on a warming rack. William dried Chase, and the younger man was so relaxed that he almost fell asleep on his feet.

William led him back into the bedroom, and Chase stood, swaying slightly, while William stripped the spread down to the foot of the bed, and turned back the sheets--which were also maroon. Chase regarded the linen through half closed eyes and said sleepily, "That's positively decadent. First quilted satin, then maroon sheets... Silk?"

William nodded. "Silk."

"Oh, gawd. I'd think I was sleeping with a vampire..." Chase leaned against him, running a hand over his chest, "if you weren't so warm."

William lifted the sheet for Chase, and he crawled in--then William followed him. He reached over and turned off the lamp, then snuggled down under the sheets beside Chase. He pulled Chase into his arms and more-or-less wrapped himself around the smaller man. After a moment William whispered, "So, I'm forgiven?"

"For being rich?" murmured Chase. "Sure. You can't help that--it's how you were born. For not telling me..." He was silent for a moment, and William felt a twinge of apprehension. Finally Chase said quietly, "I know you care about me, Will, but you're going to have to trust me more." He squeezed Will's hands, where they were laced over his belly. "I'm trusting you."

"Yes, baby," William whispered back. "Thank you, Chasers."

Chase snorted softly. "Baby names." His voice trailed off as he slid into sleep. "God, I love it..."

After a moment, when his breathing had slowed to the rhythm of deep sleep, William kissed his cheek and breathed, "I love you, Chase. Not it--you."

The End

It Ain't Nobody's Business If I Do
sung by Billie Holiday

There ain't nothing I can do
Or nothing I can say
That folks don't criticize me
But I'm going to do
Just as I want to anyway
And don't care just what people say
If I should take a notion
To jump into the ocean
Ain't nobody's business if I do
If I go to church on Sunday
Then cabaret all day Monday
Ain't nobody's business if I do
If my man ain't got no money
And I say "take all mine, honey"
Ain't nobody's business if I do
If I give him my last nickel
And it leaves me in a pickle
Ain't nobody's business if I do
But I'd rather my man would hit me
Than follow him to jump up and quit me
Ain't nobody's business if I do
I swear I won't call no copper
If I'm beat up by my papa
Ain't nobody's business if I do
Nobody's business
Ain't nobody's business
Nobody's business if I do