[introduction]

Taylor Hanson smiled.

"That's a good place for your hand to be," he cooed to his friend, life-long "playmate" Christa Bennet. In a throaty voice, Christa replied,

"And why is that?¿"

Christa smiled slinkily to herself. Her ring finger traced around her navel slowly, imagining what a squirm Taylor was in. She imagined Taylor laying in his boxers on his bed, the phone cradled between his shoulder and his ear, his lips close to the reciever, his eyes off in the distance, thinking of her.

Christa's position was much the same. Her lights were off, her door locked, her nightgown shed on the floor. Her straight dyed-blond hair rested on her naked shoulders. She traced her own finger over her bare chest, slightly admiring her naked form in the incredibly dim moonlight of her room. She and Taylor had loved playing the game of "where's your hand now?¿" ever since they were little kids. It had taken on many different forms of childish fun - "doctor," "house," and, "kidnap." Now that Taylor and Christa were both sixteen, the game, which had been abaondoned since third grade had been ressurected from its grave.

Taylor was dismayed about how much more experience Christa had collected since then. Her wanted her so bad, yet he didn't love her or have any wish to have a relationship with her. He just wanted her.

Christa knew that she'd fuck Taylor eventually, but till then she would have a lot of fun teasing him.

"Because you can put it to work so easily from that location," Taylor said huskily into the phone.

His voice sent shivers up and down Christa's spine. She enjoyed the feeling.

"Let me see," she said innocently. "What can I do? Hmm, let's just find out. I'd like to see for myself."

"I'd like to see, too," he said slyly.

"Mmm, if you're a good little boy, maybe you will," teased Christa.

"Hmm, Christa, you know I'm a good little boy," Tay protested, and did Christa know. Taylor's deep, scratchy voice was a complete contradiction to the term "good little boy." She knew Tay was probably getting pretty hot over there.

"You know what, Taylor, I think maybe I'll take my panties off. It's so hot over here . . ."

Taylor sat up in his bed a little, at the very thought.

"Flap out," he said.

"Ooh, Tay, control yourself, you tiger," Christa giggled, thinking of Tay's hard-on and how easily she always made him achieve it. He would always say "flap out" when he had one, because of the little slit in the front of boxers that made it so easy for things to just "fall out." "Who started calling it 'flap out,' anyway?" she questioned.

In his room, Taylor started twirling the phone cord into a knot. "I donno, just a little saying between me and my guy friends."

"How did it start?¿"

Tay grinned. "Well, I don't really remember for sure. Whenever I have a bunch of my guy friends over, we always go swimming. We just go swimming in our boxers, though. Sometimes something would fall out and one of us would say 'flap out' and everyone would turn their heads. Hehe, except Drew. He didn't care, we'd always be like, 'Erm, Drew, you got something hanging out, there'. And he'd be like, 'Oh, yeah.'"

"I see, it's the same concept as girls hanging around in lingerie when they spend the night with each other."

"They do?¿" he asked, getting a little turned-on at that thought. Just when he'd calmed down a bit, too!

"Oh yeah . . . we change around each other and stuff, too," Christa smiled.

"What else do you do together?" Taylor teased, really only kidding.

"Well, I don't know, probably whatever you can think of."

Christa turned over on her stomach and eyed the picture of her and Taylor on her bedside table in the frame. His gorgeous china-blue eyes and silky blond ponytail would always make her attracted to him. She was petite, a little tiny light-brown-haired munchkin with freckles and big gray eyes. Always having been flirty and pretty, she had been a hit with guys ever since she was eleven, and had lost her virginity to a seventeen-year-old when she was thirteen. Taylor was the only person that knew that, and knew that she never refrained herself from having sex when she wanted to. She would have had the rep of being a slut if she hadn't had sex with a few girls, too. Her friends eventually all got on her side for this.

"Tell me," Taylor demanded, thrilled at his friend's antics.

"Well, what are you asking me about?¿"

"Aren't you ever tempted around your friends when you hang around in lingerie?"

"Oh, yeah," Christa reported honestly. "I always am."

"So?"

"So sometimes it goes the way I want it to, and sometimes it doesn't," Christa replied.

"Ohh, baby," she heard Taylor's faint voice breath admiringly. "That's sexy."

"Of course it is," Christa said, used to that ideal. "How come all guys wanna see two girls go at it but they are all homophobes around their sex?¿"

"Well, I wouldn't say that," argued Taylor, turning on his side. He was thinking of all of Christa's closest friends. The sexy little blond, Kris, and the ever vivacious, dark-haired Jera, and we mustn't leave out Dai, a curvy Asian dish. Which one? Maybe all three? Oh, God. Hehe.

"What do you mean?"

Taylor paused. "Well, take Drew for an example. Last time he spent the night, like at two in the morning I woke up an he was beating it, an' I was like, 'Could you hurry up there, Drew? I'd like to go back to sleep.' He was like, 'Hey, it would go faster if I had a little help,' and I just kinda paused and said, 'Nnno thanks, Drew.'"

"Oh," Christa said, a smile forming on her candied pink lips. "Too bad." "It was weird," Taylor said, thinking about that night. Drew was a friend he'd met at a gig - and was the drummer in his own band, called Tubby McGraw (*Note From Author: Tubby McGraw is a local Tulsa band, with a bunch of guys from my high school. I used their name in no relation to the actual band!!! This character is FICTIONAL, while the band is not. K?*), and had longish blond hair down to about his chin. He had green eyes, dimples, a few freckles, and was very tall, and loved to do anything for kicks. He was the only one of Tay's friends who would go on all the scary rides at the fair with him.

"It's good that Drew's a sort of person who's open to experiences like that."

"Yeah, but, that would be being, y'know, like, gay." Taylor shuddered. "It'd be disgusting."

"Oh, it's not like if you two did anything it'd automatically make you gay," Christa reasoned. "A lot of teens have homosexual experiences while they grow up, it's a natural thing. And it's not like you guys would fall in love or something. Not like Drew would sweep you off your feet and automatically you become the pot of gold at the end of the homo rainbow."

Christa and Taylor started laughing.

"Mmm, this subject has gotten me all hot, just imagining it," Christa sighed, her index finger touching the rim of her silk underwear. She wasn't lying, either.

"Hehe, would you like to see that, Christa?¿" Taylor teased his hot little friend.

"Oh, yeah, you bet I would," Christa said. "Then I would have seen it all."

Tay shook his head a little bit. "Hmm . . . the idea is sort of intriguing, but I don't think I could ever do it." "It's up to you, Taylor. You know me well enough to know that I'd never be against something like that. It's not like I'm trying to put ideas into your head. I just want you to know that, you know, if you did ever do something like that I wouldn't not want to be your friend anymore."

"Yeah, that's cool."

"So, Tay, where's your hand?¿"

Taylor grinned.

The subject had changed, but the idea was still in Taylor's head.

[part one]

*The idea has intrigued me now. I haven't stopped thinking about it for three days,* Taylor wrote in his journal that night. He looked at his own words, and that feeling came back. The feeling where he felt like he was a disgusting, abnormal person.

I sound so gay, he realized, and considered scratching his words out. But instead, he began writing on the page again.

*No one will ever see this, right?¿ So why am I being so paranoid about it?¿*

Taylor slowly exhaled. There was some tremendous weight on him he couldn't shake off. He'd been agonizing over what exactly he thought of the whole idea.

*Drew did say that one time that if I ever thought about doing something like that he was open for it.*

One of the many problems Taylor had with the idea was that it went against every moral belief he had planted in his soul. He was liberal enough to accept homosexuality in a friend and not condemn them as a person, but he had been instilled with the Christian belief that homosexual feelings and experiences were wrong.

Taylor's parents had always been honest with all of the Hanson children about sex, feelings, relationships, and all that whatnot. Abstinence and heterosexuality was what Taylor had been raised with. Now, a whole new idea was being presented to him that caused him to step back and rethink everything he'd been taught in a new perspective.

*Is it wrong to feel like this?¿* he questioned himself as the ink flowed into his secret journal. *Am I only being curious, or is it a feeling that will change me forever?¿ What would people think if they crawled in my head and found out that I've been thinking about Drew like that?¿*

Taylor paused, thinking.

*So what if I do want to do this?¿ It's not like the whole world would know by looking at me, and I wouldn't have to do it if I didn't want to. I could stop as soon as I started.*

*This is ridiculous! I am a total and complete sicko. There must be something wrong with me.*

Taylor dropped his pen.

"This is crappy and stupid," he laughed at himself. "I just need to stop thinking about this."

There was a knock on his door, and Taylor stuffed the book into his desk drawer.

"Yeah?" he called.

Ike poked his head in. "Es, Mark, Drew, Kyle, and I are all gonna drive up to the Boardwalk and get some ice cream. Wanna come?¿"

"Yeah, sure," Taylor said, and left his room, the journal temporarily forgotten.

Ike and Tay's shared 4x4 Jeep held Mark Mancini, Drew Alexander, Kyle Habrick, and Esau Long in it other than the two brothers.

"Ice cream seems sorta stupid," Mark groaned as they were on their way to Baskin Robbins.

"You got a better idea?¿" Ike had been having a wild craving for ice cream all day, for some reason.

"Yeah, let's go to Roadkill," said Kyle enthusiastically.

"Where?" Both Ike and Tay were clueless as to what it was and where it was.

"Roadkill. Roadkill Heaven?" Mark said to the confused brothers. "Have you never heard of that?¿"

"Nope," replied Ike, turning into Baskin Robbins' parking lot anyway.

"It's so awesome," enthused Mark.

Taylor was busy eyeing Drew warily and fidgeting with his keychain nervously, feeling weird around him, like Drew had been able to read his thoughts earlier. Like Drew knew what was going on inside Tay's head. Drew was wearing a white T-shirt with yet another, longer, thinner white T-shirt beneath that. He wore a pair of gray slacks held up only by a belt, and some horribly chunky, loved black combat boots. He somehow pulled off the look with incredible ease, and Tay at least acknowleged that Drew looked sexy if not thought it directly.

Taylor's young, genial friend had both ears pierced, and loaded with silver hoops. He also wore a silver ring on every other finger of both his hands. What little hair of his could fit in a low, loose ponytail was confined, and he was climbing out of the jeep. So far that night, Drew had been completely silent except when he had greeted everyone while climbing into the jeep.

"It's a dance club that has, y'know, pool tables, a bar, all that junk, it's like, goth central there," Esau was explaining. Esau was slightly on the goth side himself - spiky black hair, pale skin, loved to wear simple black clothing. "They play hardcore dance-techno-goth-industrial music. It's actually pretty awesome, you can get in if you're under 18 but they don't serve you alcohol... bummer, huh?¿"

(*Author's Note: This is a real place, it's so awesome, too!*)

"That sounds fucking cool, man, let's go," Drew finally spoke up as the group made their way to the counter to order their ice cream.

"What are we going to do there, dance?" Isaac asked, rolling his eyes. Then he ordered a double-scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

"I challenge you all to a game of pool, winner takes all, baby!" Kyle cheered.

"I think that sounds okay," Taylor said, beginning to like the idea of going somewhere new.

"Well, you guys can go, but I've got a date to keep with Karen," Ike said. "Tay, you drop me off home and you can take the jeep. I'll take Dad's car."

"Fine by me," Tay replied.

A half an hour later, the group of teens arrived at the pounding dance club.

"Oh my God, Christa!" cried Taylor, hurrying over to his petite friend, who was sitting at the bar with her friends Kris and Dai.

"Tay-bear!" she smiled, and got up to go hug him.

"Hey." He hugged her warmly. "Whatcha doin' here?"

"Oh, you know me, got a big night full of lesbian sex planned up," she said, grinning. Taylor eyed Dai and Kris, and grinned, too. The two girls whispered to each other, not taking their eyes off Tay.

"Listen, Christa . . ." He pulled her way over to the side, and said, "I've been thinking about what we talked about the other day, and . . ."

Speak of the Devil!! Drew suddenly appeared at their side. Taylor stood up rigidly. Oh my God, did Drew read his mind?¿ Was it that apparent?¿ What if he could see right through Tay?¿

"Hey Drew," Taylor said tightly.

"The guys wanna play pool, but, I'm hittin' the dance floor," Drew told Taylor. Taylor nodded vigorously, and the keychain he was still playing with dropped from his fingers. "Damn, Tay, you still haven't stopped playing with this thing?¿"

Both Drew and Taylor bent over to retrieve the keychain, and bumped heads halfway down.

"Ow," Taylor laughed, hating himself thoroughly, and just let Drew get it for him.

"Kinda cool." Drew flashed the little laser on the end of the keychain. "Here." He handed it to Taylor, and Tay jumped at the touch of Drew's fingers on his own.

This is so weird, that seemed kind of purposeful, Taylor remarked to himself, thanking Drew softly and tucking his hair behind his ear. Then he dismissed the thought in what he knew was wishful thinking.

Drew laughed and "Are you all right, Tay, 'cause you seriously looked freaked out."

"Oh, yeah," Taylor quickly said. "I'm cool."

"Okay, buddy, if you say so." Drew clapped Tay on the back once and headed away.

"So that's the famous Drew?¿" Christa's smile was definitely an interested one.

"Yeah." Taylor reconsidered telling Christa now. But Christa had just caught on if she hadn't already.

"So, he's cute," she said, feeling like she should encourage the nervous Taylor. "You didn't introduce me."

Taylor just sent her a pained look.

"Hey, don't be embarrassed, Taylor," she whispered, pulling him a little closer. "He's cute. He's got a sexy ass. And look at the way he's dancing."

Tay looked back out at the dance floor. Drew was letting himself fall into the rhythm of the song, and Taylor's heartbeat increased.

"Go for it, Tay," Christa whispered to her mesmerized friend.

Tay snapped out of his trance. "Go for what?¿" He looked at Christa. "God, this is so wrong." He looked down, frustrated at himself. Why couldn't he just figure out what he wanted?¿ Half the time he thought about nothing but what would happen if he told Drew about his decision - if he told Drew he wanted to. The other half of him was thoroughly scared, disgusted with himself, and paranoid that Drew wasn't like that anymore and if Tay made a move Drew would probably kick his ass.

"You are so freaked out about this," Christa realized, touching Taylor's cheek gently. Taylor relaxed a little at her touch. "Stay right here. I'll be right back, okay?¿"

"Sure," Taylor whispered as he continued to nonchalantly stare at the dance floor.

Sweet dreams are made of this, who am I to disagree? I've traveled the world and the seven seas, everybody's looking for something. Some of them want to use you, some of them want to be used by you, some of them want to abuse you, some of them want to be abused. "Cherry Coke, please," she asked the friendly female bartender. The bartender, with short, very dark hair and glasses, and who was swaying to the music, quickly fetched Christa what she needed. Christa handed her a dollar and thanked her. When the bartender's back was turned, Christa took a small vial that she had intended to use on herself that night out of her pocket, and sprinkled half of the mind-altering substance into Taylor's Coke.

Drew had noticed Taylor was staring dismally out onto the floor.

He's acting pretty strange, Drew thought to himself. I wonder if his girlfriend dumped him . . . wouldn't that be . . . no, probably not. Why would any girl - or guy - in their right mind dump Taylor Hanson?

Christa returned, with a cheap plastic cup of something.

"It's Cherry Coke. Drink some," Christa said, smiling a little.

Taylor sipped at the Coke and was surprised at its calming effect on him, although it certainly was sorta weird-tasting. After a few moments, he realized that it had totally helped. It must have cooled him off somehow. Taylor smiled, feeling a little better, and downed the rest of the drink while Christa just stared at him.

"That's better, isn't it?¿" she asked him.

Taylor nodded, indeed feeling much more comfortable. Suddenly, Drew didn't seem too threatening - in fact, Drew was starting to look a little tempting.

"Hey. I'm going to go onto the floor. Thanks for the drink," Taylor told Christa.

Christa smiled a twisted smile. "Sure thing, cutie. Call me later."

"Okay."

They hugged, and parted. Taylor headed out on the dance floor.

Drew watched Taylor Hanson swiftly take down an entire plastic cup full of pop in one swig. He tried not to look to conspicuous . . . but lately he was beginning to have suspicions that Taylor had begun to catch onto how often Drew stared at him. It frightened Drew, who didn't want to lose a friend over some stupid, weird, fixative fantasy crush.

But, God, he looks so hot tonight, Drew moaned inwardly, forcing himself to turn in a slightly different direction so Tay wasn't so visible. Blue Dickies, a tight white T-shirt, and a blue detailed, button-up shirt that remained open left little to Drew's vivid fantasizing. You could see Tay's soft six-pack, and the way the cute Dickies clung to Taylor's ass was making many a goth girl in the club linger their vision there. And, of course, Taylor hadn't gone without a pair of clunky black Hush Puppies.

Suddenly, he felt someone behind him, and turned around to see Taylor standing there, a smile stuck on his face. Drew noticed Taylor's dimple that showed up when he smiled too big. His eyes were so clearly brought out by the blue he was wearing that that's all Drew could look at, just standing there stupidly.

"My turn to sneak up on you," smirked Taylor.

"Imagine my surprise." To say the least, Drew was a little surprised Tay was on the dance floor, and had appeared right when Drew was thinking about him.

"You never told me you danced, too," he said.

"I dabble in classical jazz," joked Drew.

"I would have mistaken your grace and poise for classical ballet," cracked back Taylor.

"Speak for yourself, Swan Princess."

"That's Odette to you."

"What? You know the Swan Princess's name?¿ I thought I made that up," snickered Drew. Pleased immensely, he noted that Taylor was beginning to move to the same rhythm he was. Almost like he's dancing with me, he marveled.

"I have two little sisters who both take ballet. I know my swan shit," replied Tay.

"Good song," Drew remarked as they changed the music from whatever wordless dance music they were playing to a very strange version of "Intergalactic" by the Beastie Boys.

"Yeah," agreed Taylor, and the two lost themeselves in the music. Just dancing. Near each other, if not secretly with each other.

[part two]

Around a half an hour later, Esau, Mark, and Kyle appeared to say that Kyle's older brother was there to pick them up.

"I'm going to stay . . . are you?¿" Drew looked at Taylor hopefully.

Taylor nodded. "Yeah, I'm staying. I can drop you off home later, is that okay?¿"

"Yeah, fine."

"Okay, see you two . . ." Kyle paused and laughed. "You two are regular lords of the dance."

"Right." Drew rolled his eyes. "Shuffle on, Master Fubu."

"Ohhh, good one." Kyle rolled his eyes right back, and then, the three teens left the club.

"Ten-thirty . . . it doesn't get good till now, apparently," Taylor remarked to Drew, noting that slowly, more and more people were joining the small group on the dance floor.

"I believe we've started a trend," Drew noted. "The ideal of dancing at a dance club. Novel, isn't it?¿"

"It's a fad, it won't last," advised Taylor.

Unaware that they were doing so, the two boys moved closer together as the dance floor became crowded.

"Woah, Tay, we're like, practically freak-dancing, here," laughed Drew as he and Taylor started to bump into each other.

"Well, shag me, Drew," Taylor said, joking. He couldn't believe he'd just said that - but he'd calmed down so much that it had just slipped out.

"Um . . . yeah," Drew muttered, not quite sure as to why Taylor had said that. But he dismissed it, and closed his eyes. The beat of this song was almost electrifying. The colored lights whirled around him, and the steam machines at either corner of the miniature stage began to pour out steam. It smelled strong, and made Drew light-headed.

It made Taylor more than light-headed. It made him flat-out high in a strange way. He suddenly felt dizzy and disoriented, and reached out for Drew, grabbing his arm and pulling him closer. Drew gasped audibly but Tay didn't appear to hear. What was up with this?¿

But that didn't matter anymore. Not now that Drew was pressed tightly up against Taylor's body. Not now that he could smell the light cologne that always clung to him and almost feel the sweat his friend had worked up.

"Tay?" he muttered disbelievingly.

"Hm, hm, Drew," laughed Taylor. He was supremely enjoying the sudden lack of self-control he had, and was determined to use it while it was still there.

Drew slowly edged his arm around Tay's waist, and Taylor responded by shoving his hips against Drew's. Now the two really were freak-dancing. And Drew absolutely couldn't believe it. Taylor Hanson was finally his.

The song's beat grew heavier, and was almost as loud as Tay and Drew's hearts.

Taylor felt almost as dizzy as before, and was aware that Drew's body moving against his was giving him an incredibly noticable hard-on in his blue Dickies.

Drew was smiling. He'd noticed it, too . . . and he was growing one to match. Bravely, he slid his hand down and placed his palm over the lump in Tay's pants. Taylor rolled his head back and moaned, humping against Drew's hand lewdly, his rhythm of pelvic thrusts increasing dramatically.

"That feels good," he was able to lean in and whisper to Drew.

Drew squeezed Taylor's erection and pressed his own up against Tay's thigh, showing him he wasn't alone. Taylor gasped, as he was even able to feel the thicker, hotter head of Drew's stiff cock, even through the slacks Drew was wearing. It was sort of amazing to him.

Drew was utterly in heaven, not wanting to stop but not wanting to go further, either, such a state of utopia he was sitting in. He desperately wanted Tay to touch him, touch him all over, but he didn't want to force Tay into anything.

Instead, he concentrated on stroking Tay's erection through his Dickies.

"Mmm," Taylor was moaning appreciatively. Drew felt so encouraged that, smiling at Taylor slyly, he hitched his thumb into the zipper and pulled the zipper down. Then, he slid his hand in Tay's pants, touching him through his boxers.

Taylor's eyes widened as he gazed at Drew, who was still smiling cleverly.

"Drew - . . ."

Drew got a good grasp on the widening circumference of Tay's prick and began to pull on it. He didn't even care about the masses of swaying goths around them, and Taylor was also finding it fairly easy to ignore him.

"Touch it," Taylor found himself saying, suddenly feeling out of his own body, overloaded with pleasure, excitement, and that strange headache that was creeping upon him.

Oh, God, I would do anything for you, Tay. Drew closed his eyes and found the flap on the front of Taylor's boxers....


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