He clenched his fists and took several deep breathes. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jessie still sitting naked on the bed, his back to the wall and Mitchell on top of him, riding his cock like a champion whore. Well, except for the pathetic little whimpering noises that were clearly more pain than pleasure. Jessie leaned to the side so that he could see Richard, "Millie’s at it again, huh?"

Sitting at his desk, Richard continued counting. "She wants me to have dinner with my parents tonight."

Jessie let go of Mitchell’s head in favor of gripping the kid’s slim hips and using them to deepen the thrusts. "So, tell her no." His eyes rolled into his head, "Unh, yeah, just like that. Ride me hard, kid."

Richard waited a few minutes, until the sounds of Jessie cumming died down. "She knows about the boys... and the drugs."

For several seconds the only noise was that of Mitchell’s hitched breathing. Finally, Jessie pushed the kid off his lap and gave Richard his full attention. "She knows?"

Richard nodded, "I don’t think she’s seen exactly who, but she said she knew I was bringing boy’s up here and she said I was too high to remember."

"Bloody fuck."

"Yeah, so go wash up, we’re going to dinner before my dear sister outs me to my parents."

Mitch didn’t move from where he was laying on the bed. Millie? Who was Millie and how did she know that Richard was bringing boys up there? Vaguely, he remembered Paul saying something about Richard’s little sister, Camilla. That must be who it was. Jessie got up from the bed and Mitch bit back a cry as the mattress moved under him. It felt like his insides were shredded, every little movement caused sharp pain in his backside and he wondered if they hadn’t done serious damage this time.

They went into the bathroom to clean up and Mitch curled up on the bed, pulling the blankets over himself protectively. Jessie had said they were going to fuck him until sunrise, over and over. Silently, he thanked Camilla for her timely interruption. It wasn’t just his body he could feel breaking, it was himself. If he had to survive another month of this...

The covers were wrenched back and he squeezed his eyes shut. "Open your mouth."

He obeyed Richard’s command, and felt fingers push a pill into his lips and clamp shut around it. "Swallow."

He worked it into the back of his throat and swallowed, ignoring the bitter taste it left. He knew that taste, these were the same drugs that Richard had used the night he’d taken him from Humps. Not that it mattered, because if he were in a drug induced sleep, it meant he didn’t have to worry about nightmares. Richard’s finger probed his mouth for a second and then the actor let him fall back onto the bed. He didn’t even care anymore, he just wanted to sleep.

Richard watched Mitchell shaking. This was getting to be a problem. He was the kind of man that liked to be in control and lately things were swinging wildly away from him. First Paul, then that cocktail waitress bitch and now Camilla. He didn’t know if he could handle Mitchell on top of everything else. Of course, Mitchell was one of the few things he had control over at the moment, but still...

"You ready?"

Jessie was pulling his belt on and Richard nodded. He’d handled his parents for years, if he went over, made a big show of things, and talked about how hectic his life was, his mother wouldn’t ask him to come over again for another two or three months. Camilla was another problem, one he wasn’t sure how to deal with, but he’d figure it out, he always did.

*****

Dinner had been nice. His mother had fixed roast beef and mashed potatoes, she’d even brought out the fine china. Now came the talking.

"So, Wayne, what have you been up to?"

He gave her his most exhausted smile, "I’ve been working really hard, mum. Peterson has me running around to all sorts of functions and meeting new people. I hardly get time to stop and sleep."

She tisked and reached over to brush his hair out of his face, "My poor baby, you should take a break."

His father scoffed, "Right, just last week you were saying that you hoped Peterson would introduce him to a nice girl."

"A mother can hope." She smiled at him reassuringly, "Don’t you worry about me, I’m just hoping that I’ll have grandchildren soon, but you’re young."

Richard stopped breathing as an idea struck him. He couldn’t be sure it would work, but...

Camilla pushed a piece of poundcake around her plate. "He’s not that young."

Richard caught Jessie glaring at Camilla for a moment before he got himself under control. His mother looked over at Camilla, admonishing her, "Now, Millie, be nice. I know that twenty-seven may seem absolutely ancient to you, but it’s hardly too old to get married and have children."

"Of course not, but you’d think he’d have at least brought someone home by now." She paused, looking at Richard with a raised eyebrow before continuing. "Of course, I’m sure he’s just been too busy to date."

"No, I haven’t." He said nothing else, but stood up, nodding at Jessie to follow him. "Mum, I should get to sleep, I’ve got a long day ahead of me. Millie, don’t forget to do your homework like a good little girl."

She stuck her tongue out at him, but quickly smiled before her parents saw. Richard ruffled her hair and then gave his mother and father a hug before leaving. Tomorrow, he would talk to his agent, he’d give him the little tart’s number and let him deal with her, then he’d call Paul and let him know what was going on. If everything worked the way he wanted it to, this whole mess could turn to his advantage.

*****

Paul groaned. His head hurt and he thought he might be sick if he made any sudden movements. Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking in the dim light. Where the hell was he? The room he was staring at was about half the size of his, with lavender walls and a picture of David Bowie above a little white desk. Sitting up, he fought the nausea as he continued his survey. It looked like a five-year-old’s room. There was a white dresser that matched the desk and had a run of pink flowers painted up the front. The ceiling was spattered with glow-in-the-dark twinkle stars and moons.

Looking over with growing dread, he took in the naked form of a girl laying next to him, with bright blue and blonde hair and a slight figure. She was laying on her back and he could see the swell of her breasts under the thin blankets. Thank god. For a moment there he’d been afraid he gone home with a toddler. Of course, that was ridiculous, even drunk he had more sense than that, but still... he looked around the room again and shuddered.

Slipping out of the bed, he opened the door and looked around, trying to determine which way the bathroom was. The room opened into a little hallway with a door directly across and another at the end. Shite.

"Paul?" He looked back, startled by the soft, female voice coming from the bed. "What’s wrong?"

"I... I have to pee."

She giggled and he was surprised to note that while very childish, it did sound... nice. There was something much more soothing about it than Richard’s deep throated chuckles. "It’s at the end of the hallway."

Nodding, he slipped out and closed the door behind him. He’d just made it into the bathroom when his memories of the previous night caught up with him. Oh, holy god, that was Mitch’s friend in there, Cynthia. He closed the door and sat on the floor, putting his head on his knees. He’d gone home with Mitch’s friend, opening his eyes, he looked down at his own naked form. He’d probably slept with Mitch’s friend. God, he hoped Mitch hung out with older classmates.

He stood up and splashed water on his face. What had he been thinking? That’s right, he hadn’t been thinking, he’d been doing what Richard told him to. A knock on the door startled him and he grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist before answering.

Cynthia had put on a pair of large pyjama pants and a tank top and was holding a bundle of trousers and shirt in her arms. She looked even smaller in the baggy clothes. "I thought you might want to get dressed." She thrust the bundle at him and he smiled gratefully. "I was going to make breakfast. I’m not a good cook, but I can do scrambled eggs, or we’ve got cereal and soy-milk."

"Eggs sound good."

"Right." She turned around to leave and then stopped, looking over her shoulder, "Feel free to take a shower. My dad’s gone on a business trip for the next few days, so we’ve got the place to ourselves."

She turned the corner and he shut the door, looking around the bathroom again and trying to get his surroundings. He was going to kill Richard. This was absurd. She lived with her father for Christ’s sake. Although, perhaps it was a good sign that she wasn’t in school, maybe that meant she really was older.

By the time he’d finished his shower, he felt much better. She had to be at least seventeen with breasts like that and her not being in school only added to his conviction. Of course, there was the fact that she was Mitch’s friend and that was bound to complicate things. He couldn’t very well get into any kind of relationship with her, not when he was always out with Richard and the others, or at Richard’s flat taking care of his captive, who happened to be her school mate. God, but this was all becoming unnecessarily complicated.

Come to that, didn’t she live in Hatfield? What the bloody hell was she doing in London? Getting dressed, he headed across the sparsely furnished living room and into the little kitchen. Cynthia was leaning over the stove, stirring a small skillet full of eggs. With a bright smile, she motioned to the bar in front of her. "Have a seat, I should be done in a minute."

Paul sat down and watched her with interest. It was cute the way she bit her lip when she was scraping the slightly burn eggs off the bottom of the skillet. Strange, the first time Richard had cooked for him, he had done the same thing and it was all Paul could do not to ravage him on the counter top. They’d been thirteen and Paul was staying over at his house for a few weeks during the summer. That summer was the first in a lot of things. It was the first time he’d really kissed another boy, it was the first time he’d wanked in front of another boy, it was the first time he’d had fantasies about another boy. Richard had always been so good at convincing him to try things.

"What are you thinking about?" Cynthia had her head tilted curiously and Paul chuckled to himself. Mitch sometimes had that exact same expression.

"Nothing, I was just trying to remember exactly how I ended up here."

Her smile faltered, "Oh."

Damnit, he always did that. "No, not like that. Look, I have a knack for sticking my foot in my mouth with women, so just... well, take it for what it is, huh? I was really drunk last night and I called Richard and he said to call you and get laid and I can’t even remember exactly what happened. Not that I’m saying it would be so bad if anything did, but... damn."

Gradually, her stoic expression broke into laugher and she took the skillet off the little stove and set it on a folded hand cloth. It was pretty badly burnt, with bits of black flakes mixed in and she cursed under her breath before moved it to the sink. "So, how does cereal sound?"

"I’ve a better idea. What time is it?"

She looked at the oven clock, "Eleven."

"Is there a café anywhere nearby?"

"Sure, tons."

Standing up, he motioned to her room. "Then go get dressed and it’ll be my treat."

*****

They spent over an hour at the café and then went walking in the snow. Cynthia was energetic and full of life, talking non-stop about school and her friends. It should have seemed selfish, because she didn’t ask any questions about him, but it was actually nice to be around someone who was so open and honest.

"There was one time earlier this semester when Mitch yelled at the Headmaster. See, I had gotten into trouble, because I was covering for him. He’d stayed up late the night before to go out and he was tired and he wanted to take a nap in one of the broom cupboards. Well, it came out that I had lied and I got a three day suspension, where he only got a week’s detention."

Paul chuckled at the imagine of Mitch curled up in a broom cupboard and stopped at a street side coffee vender, "What do you want?"

"Hm, hot chocolate. So, Mitch decides that isn’t fair, because why should I get a worse punishment, when he was the one actually ditching class. From what Mark told me, they could hear the screaming through the entire school and by the end of it, Mitch was suspended for a week, but he said that was okay, because at least he was in more trouble than I was. Of course, he parents weren’t quite as thrilled. His father grounded him for a month, but it only stuck for a few days. Mitch’s mum is so lenient with him - he’s her baby."

The knife of guilt in his gut twisted, "Really? So, you know his parents pretty well?"

She nodded, blowing on her warm drink. "Yeah, mine separated when I was really young and my mum never had a lot of time for me, so Mitch’s parents went out of their way to watch over me. We’ve been friends forever."

"Forever?"

"Well, since primary school, anyway." Sitting on the top of a bench, she brushed a strand of blue hair behind her ears. "Our first day of class one of the other boy’s was picking on Mitch and made him cry, so I decked him. It was the first in a long string of offenses I was destined to commit while protecting Mitch’s delicate emotions."

Paul chuckled uncomfortably. He liked hearing about Mitch from someone else. He liked the image he got when he thought of the kid as a normal teenage boy and not just a victim, but god was it awkward. "You know, I really am sorry that I don’t remember anything."

She shrugged, "You were drunk. Besides, Richard’s your friend and what if he were doing something illegal that night? I’m betting you wouldn’t want him to get caught for it. Just if you remember anything important, like who Mitch might have gone home with, you’ll tell me, right?"

"Of course. In fact," he pulled out his cell phone. A few moments later, he handed it to her. "Okay, hit the green button, then say something into the phone, and hit the green button again."

"Why?"

"It’s something Richard started a few years ago. When we program a number into our phone, we always program a personal ring using the person’s voice. It makes it easier to know whose calling."

"Really?" She looked at the phone dubiously. "What does Richard’s say?"

"Get your lazy arse up." He blushed, "He has this really bad habit of calling when I’m asleep."

Cynthia bit her lip and then quickly pressing the button on the phone, holding it to her mouth, catching his eye while she spoke. "So, this makes us friends, right?" She ended the recording and handed him the phone, her eyebrows raised in question.

He smiled at her as he put his cell into his back pocket. "Yeah, this makes us friends."

She stood up and twined her arm with Paul’s. "How do you feel about hedges?"

"Hedges?"

"There are some interestingly shaped ones around the bend over there. If you squint, one of them looks remarkably like a penis."

*****

"Paul, buddy, get your lazy arse up!"

Bloody hell. Where was he? Oh, right, home. He’d gotten home late that afternoon and laid down for a quick nap.

"Paul, buddy, get your lazy arse up!"

Light filtered in past a crack in the heavy curtains and Paul looked at his clock, groaning. It was twelve in the afternoon, he must have slept clear through the night. Brilliant. "Paul, buddy, get your la..."

He snatched the phone up and flipped it open, "I’m up, I’m up!"

Richard chuckled on the other end, "Finally, I’ve called you three times today."

Strange, he never slept through his phone. "What do you need?"

"I wanted to take you out."

Paul sat up, his heart hammering in his chest, "Out? Like clubbing?"

"No, I want to take you out on a date."

A date? Richard didn’t do dates. "What’s gotten into you?"

"Paul, love, we’ve been friends for how long now? Let me take you out."

He chewed his lip, feeling like an angst-ridden teenager. Why did things with Richard always have to be so confusing? "Fine. I’ll be over in a few and we can hang out until you’re ready."

"Good."

He stared at the phone in disbelief. This could not be happening. Richard hadn’t just asked him out on a date and he wasn’t going over every article of clothing he owned, trying to discern what he should wear for it. Hadn’t he decided just yesterday that he was sick and tired of this roller coaster of emotions that Richard put him through and that as soon as Mitch got home, he was going to get out, no matter how much it hurt him? Fuck it.

Half an hour later, he was washed, dressed and on his way to Richard’s. This was ridiculous. He was a grown man, his heart shouldn’t be pounding at the thought that he was going on a date with his best friend of almost twenty years. By the time he drove through the gate and back to Richard’s flat, he had finally managed to get a hold of himself. Just because Richard said date, didn’t mean it was a real date. In fact, with Richard, things were arse backwards more often than not.

Foregoing a cigarette, he charged up the steps and knocked on the door, only to be greeted with a kiss by a half naked Richard. Damn, there went his emotions again. Richard never kissed him first thing, because, overall, Richard wasn’t much for kissing. He pulled back and looked behind him nervously, but there wasn’t anyone there, not even the gardeners. "What’s gotten into you?"

Richard shrugged and smiled, "Nothing, I missed you yesterday, now get inside before you freeze. So, seeing as you didn’t call me back Thursday night, I can assume she picked you up. Did you get laid?"

"I’m not really sure. I think so." It felt like he had gotten laid, but she hadn’t really said yes or no to that question and he still couldn’t remember the entire night, just up until she picked him up at the pub. "Where’s Mitch?"

"Sleeping."

He stepped past Richard into the room and sure enough, there was Mitch, sprawled naked on the bed, one pillow under his head and two more tucked protectively against his body. That was strange, Mitch never slept in the nude, nor did he sleep above the covers. "What’s wrong with him?"

"He’s drugged. I’ll put on a coat and we’ll sit outside."

Paul looked at Mitch uncomfortably, his mouth was open, but he seemed to be breathing all right, his eyelids didn’t so much as flutter. Richard grabbed his hand and walked him outside, shutting the door behind him. "Richard, what’s going on? First you ask me on a date, then I get here and you’re... really affectionate, and you’re drugging him. You’ve never drugged your boys in your flat before."

Richard sat on the steps, motioning for Paul to join him. "It’s Millie, Paul, she’s gotten curious and if we’re going to be out, I can’t risk that she’ll come up here and find him."

"Millie?" What the bloody hell did Camilla have to do with anything? She generally stayed as far away from Richard and his friends as humanly possible.

He listened with growing horror as Richard told him about seeing her outside his flat, about dinner, and about her constant little jibes that threatened to give him away to his parents. "So, I’ve come up with a solution."

"What?"

"I’m coming out." Richard took the cigarette that Paul had started to light out of his hand and stepped on it. "Don’t do that, Paul, it doesn’t suit you."

"Wait, you said you’re coming out? As in you’re going to announce that you’re gay?"

Richard nodded, "It’s the only way to stop the rutting little cunt in her tracks."

Paul frowned, "Richard, don’t call your sister a cunt."

"Twat, then."

"Richard."

"Whatever. Look, the point of this is, coming out isn’t enough, there’s the matter of the little waitress I managed to knock up." Paul nodded, because that really was a dilemma. Coming out to the media could garner him points, but he’d come under fire when they found out about her. "So, I’ve decided to tell them about her, too."

"Come again?"

"I’m going to tell the paparazzi and all the rest of those media sucking vultures that I’m gay, that I’ve had a life partner for the last five years, and that my partner and I have decided we want a child. So, we hired a girl that I met at a party. She was a cocktail waitress, needed the money, she seemed nice enough and she agreed to be my little human incubator."

Paul couldn’t help staring. That was the most ridiculous plan he’d ever heard! It would never work. For one, the media wouldn’t believe it because they’d never seen Richard out with any men, let alone one in particular and second, the girl would never go along with it, it was degrading.

"Peterson already talked to her, agreed to hire her an attorney to look over the contracts and everything. She’ll be getting good money for going along with it and so far she’s agreed. She’s got a week to sign the papers."

"Richard, I hate to sound pessimistic and all, but you don’t want children, you never have. The closest thing to a kid you’ve ever had is currently naked in your bed and he drives you mad. Not to mention you can hardly raise children in that little garage apartment. You’d have to get a real flat."

"House actually." Richard wrapped his arm around Paul’s shoulders. "I’ve already picked out the perfect one. It’s a two story out in the middle of nowhere. I think it’s about time to get out from under my parents and, besides, with Millie snooping around, it’s the most logical thing to do. A baby is just a good excuse at this point."

"But..."

"Don’t worry, I’m not keeping it. She’s also getting paid to conveniently back out of the deal at the last minute and, like the gentleman I am, I’ll let her. I’ll only have to see the kid once or twice a month and on holidays. Besides that, I’ll be on movie sets a lot of the time. It’s just good publicity."

That was that and, really, he had thought of everything, hadn’t he? It would probably work, except there was still the matter of a life partner. Was he going to pay someone for that, as well? It would have to be someone he’d been seen with on several occasions, someone the media knew was associated with him and there were only a few those. There were Mickey and Louis, but as much as Richard liked their style, he probably couldn’t handle their shite for very long. There was a guy named Frank who appeared in a lot of their movies, but he wasn’t part of the group and bringing someone new in, especially considering the circumstances, would be tricky. He always kept Tanner and Jessie away from the media, which left...

Paul looked over at Richard, his eyes widening as the full scope of why he’d been invited over sunk in.

"What do you say, Paul? We’ve known each other since we were six and I do find you dead sexy. Not to mention the public will have a field day with the two of us." Richard’s face dropped into a serious expression. "Honestly, Paul, you’re the only one I trust to do this. I care about you and I know you care about me and I don’t mean like friends or even brothers." He reached over and trailed a finger down Paul’s jaw. "I’m not just saying this to save my arse, Paul. If you say no, I’ll find someone else, but whoever I end up with I’m shackled to for a few years at least and I’d rather it be you."

With every word, Paul felt himself being dragged deeper into it. Short of Richard saying that he loved him, they were all the things Paul had ever wished for Richard to say to him. All of a sudden, everything that had been happening the past two months didn’t matter. Last night didn’t matter. Who cared if he’d shagged some girl on the side? Richard had told him to, anyway.

Of course, there was always, "My parents..."

"Love you very much and, just like mine, they’ll be happy for you. For us. I know your father doesn’t like me, but that’s mostly because I’m always dragging you off without telling him where I’m taking his son. So now I’ll tell him. I’m madly in love with you and I’ve been stealing you away since we were eighteen, because I can’t bare to be separated from you."

There they were again, those words, spoken in that particular tone and it didn’t matter that Richard was an actor and an expert at manipulating people into doing what he wanted, because it was possibly the best Paul was every going to get and he could live with that.

"Alright." Richard kissed him again, like a master giving his obedient dog a reward for doing the right thing. Not that it mattered.

*****

Richard’s parents took the news surprisingly well. Paul had always thought of Richard’s mother as the kind that would break down into tears over something like this, but then, as Paul had always known, Richard was good with people and he’d made a show of acting as if he’d disappointed them and they’d rushed to reassure him that he hadn’t.

"Wayne, sweetie, you’ve never disappointed me or your father. We wouldn’t have chosen acting for you, but you’ve done so well at it and you seem to enjoy it and that’s all we ever wanted for you."

She’d looked at his father and he’d snapped out of whatever trance he’d been in, "Yes, yes, of course. In fact, it’s a relief." He’d sat up and forcing a smile onto his face, "I was beginning to think you were impotent."

"Charles!" Paul couldn’t help but laugh at her indignant tone. Richard’s father really did have a knack for saying the crudest things sometimes.

"What? It’s true, he’s twenty-seven. If he’s not gay, he must have some kind of erectile dysfunction."

Camilla had sat there the entire time, her face a stone as she took it in. Paul had felt a little sorry for her, actually, but she had brought this on herself.

Paul’s parents had been another matter. Paul’s mother had, indeed broken down into tears and his father had turned absolutely red in the face, no matter how much Richard tried to explain the situation away. Eventually, Paul had told Richard to leave and had handled it himself.

"Father, I love him. We’ve been together for nearly ten years, that makes this one of the longest courtships known to man."

"I don’t like him."

"But, I do and this is my life and, mum, please stop crying."

She sniffled and dabbed her nose with a white handkerchief. God, at least he’d always known where he got his acting skills. "I just... I always wanted grandchildren and now..." she trailed off and started crying again.

"Mum, you’ll have grandchildren. Richard and I are telling you this because we’ve hired a surrogate."

His father blustered, "You what?!"

"A surrogate, father. We wanted to wait until we were sure that everything had gone right, but she’s nearly two months along now and it looks healthy."

"Is it... yours?"

She looked so damned hopeful that he couldn’t dash her dreams completely. Besides, they were already telling one lie, might as well tell another. "No, it’s Richard’s, but we’re already thinking about having another."

His father scoffed, but his face wasn’t nearly as red. "I assume you’ll be moving in together, then?"

"Richard’s found a place. It’s a house about twenty minutes outside of town. It’s quiet and I think it’ll be good for... well, for what we want. He’s taking me to see it today."

"You haven’t even seen it?"

Paul stood up defensively, "I trust Richard, Dad. If he says the place is good, then I’m sure it is. Besides, it’s not like we can’t just sell it if I don’t like it. Between the two of us we’ve several million pounds."

He choked on the amount even as he said it. With Richard living in that little flat and him living with his parents, it had never seemed like they’d had all that much money, but in truth, both of them were millionaires just on their own. "Look, I have to go, we wanted to get out there and home before dinner. I’ll come over and we’ll talk about it later, yeah?"

His mother nodded and his father shook his hand and then hugged him, "I just want what’s best for you, you know that. If he... well, if Richard is what makes you happy, I’ll live with it."

Paul nodded and raced out the door and into Richard’s car. Richard looked at him expectantly and he nodded, "You were right, they’re fine with it. Well, mostly. Mum wants us to have anther one with me as the father."

Richard laughed and pulled the car out of park, "Let’s get going, we’ve got about two hours before Mitch wakes up and I want to be home before then." He paused for a second, "Don’t forget tonight’s the party."

For a moment, Paul considered arguing with him on it, but what was he going to say? In truth, he just didn’t think it was fair to Mitch. Richard had admitted that for the past week the kid had been drugged up to his eyes for at least half the day and Paul figured that the only times Richard really let him come out of it were when he wanted sex. Maybe with everything that was going on, Richard would see that it was time to take the kid home.

"Oh, by the way, I got a call from my agent this morning. I got that part, the one I went to the party for in the first place."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but I’m going to have to ask you a favor. We’re starting pre-production and I’ll need to leave for three or four weeks at least. I was wondering if you’d mind watching Mitchell for me? He’s been a good boy lately and I’m sure he’ll behave, especially for you."

Paul shifted uncomfortably in the seat, "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Richard took his eyes off the road long enough to give Paul a meaningfully raised eyebrow. "Come on, surely you’ve noticed? The kid’s been giving you doe eyes for weeks. Every time you get near him, he blushes like a school girl." When Paul looked skeptical, he laughed, "Fine, don’t believe me, but will you watch him for me?"

"You know I will." Besides, if Paul was watching over him, he could make sure that no one hurt him. It would at least be a nice reprieve from the past few months. "When do you leave?"

"Today’s what, Friday? So then Sunday morning, five a.m. I’ll have to be at the airport by two."

"Sunday?! That’s a bit short notice, isn’t it?"

Richard shrugged, "They asked if I could manage it and I couldn’t think of a plausibly excuse to say no, so I’m going. We’ll be shooting all over the place though. It’s some kind of treasure hunting movie, so I’ll be starting in America, moving down to Mexico, then out to Italy and up to Russia. One of the scenes in supposed to be set in Iran and the director considered taking us out there, but with everything that’s going on, we’re just going to have to use a set."

He looked over and smiled at Paul, "I’ll bring you something nice from every port of call, I promise."

The rest of the ride was passed in silence as Paul considered what he was going to say to Mitch. He’d been promising three months, but Richard had said he’d be gone for at least three or four weeks and he certainly wasn’t going to take Mitch home the moment he got back. In fact, this was probably going to mean that Mitch would be there at least a month longer than they’d planned.

Finally, they pulled off the road and onto a frozen, dirt path and Paul looked up to see a run down two story stone house at the end of it. There were huge trees surrounding it on three sides and Paul was struck instantly by the fact that it looked like a miniature castle.

"It’s got four bedrooms on the second floor and one of the first. There’s a massive kitchen, though I’ve no idea what I’m going to do with that. There’s also a small study, a formal living and dining room, as well as a den and breakfast nook." He opened the door and Paul stepped into the surprisingly dilapidated room. "I’ve already talked to a contractor. This place’ll be livable within two or three months, but there’s a lot they have to do; wiring, plumbing, the foundation’s solid."

They walked through the living room and into the kitchen, rubbing their arms through their jackets to keep warm. It really was huge, though it probably dated to the twenties or thirties.

"This is what sold me on this place." Richard went through the kitchen and opened the pantry door. Or at least, Paul had assumed it was the pantry door. On the other side of the little wooden door was another door, this one made of reinforced steal.

"What the bloody hell is that?"

"It’s the basement." Richard pulled it open and it squealed on its hinges. "The house was built just after World War Two and the owners apparently thought they were going to need a fallout shelter. Come on down, it’s probably the safest structure in here." Paul followed him down the stairs, gripping the metal guide rails tightly. At the bottom, Richard turned on a light which flickered several times before coming on entirely. The room was absolutely huge! It spanned the entire base of the house and probably a bit more. The plaster on the walls was coming off in places and Paul could see the metal lining underneath.

"Bloody hell."

"Brilliant isn’t it? I’m going to remodel it, of course. The lock is on the inside right now, but I’ve looked at it and it’s sturdy. I’ve asked the contractor to keep the original door, just change it around so it locks from the outside. Said I didn’t want my kid to lock himself in here, but just imagine it, Paul! It’s absolutely sound proof and there is no way out, no windows, and with that door... it’s perfect."

Paul felt his stomach sink. He tried to imagine Mitch in this place and he felt sick. "You’ll be taking down the plaster and leaving the walls metal?"

"Of course not. I’d never leave my boys in a place as dreary as that. I’ll block off at least half of it, it’s much too big otherwise, but I’ll put up new plaster and paint it a bright, sunny color, maybe a creamy yellow. I might even put in some fake windows with back lighting."

Paul’s stomach turn. God, he was going to be sick. "Can we get out of here?"

Richard shrugged, "Yeah, that’s about it, anyway. Everything else is getting pretty much gutted and redone. When things are closer to finished, we’ll let you pick a room and decorate it however you want. Unless you want to share a room with me?"

Paul pushed Richard playfully, "Shove it, Richie."

A pair of arms came around him from behind and Richard’s breath ghosted over his neck. "I’d very much like to shove it, Paulie. The question is, will you let me?"

A shiver ran down Paul’s back and he closed his eyes, blocking out the dark, depressing atmosphere of the basement. He let Richard kiss his neck and position him so that he was leaning forward with his hands on the wall. What was it about Richard that made him give in every time? His buckle was hastily undone and his trousers and underwear were pushed to the floor. He shivered as the freezing air hit his backside. Did he give in because of the sex? He moaned as Richard pushed his spit slicked cock into his arse. The sex was good, yes, the sex was really, fucking fantastic, but it was hardly the sort of thing that one went around breaking the law for.

He took one hand off the wall and put it behind him, on Richard’s hip, trying to make him go deeper. So, what was it if it wasn’t just sex? Was it love? He did love Richard, but he couldn’t say that he was in love with him. There was so much about Richard that he didn’t understand. There was that dark part of his best friend that attracted people like Jessie and Tanner.

Richard pulled half out and slowly slid back in and Paul forgot to think entirely as sensation washed over him. "Fuck, Richard."

"That’s what I’m doing."

The cold and all other thoughts were quickly forgotten and he concentrated only on feeling Richard’s cock moving inside him, filling him. He’d had sex with other men, but none of them had ever managed to make him feel like this. When Richard gripped him, he felt like he was losing control and when Richard fucked him it was like the entire world came down to just that, Richard’s cock inside his arse.

"Richard."

Richard bit his ear, "I know. You’re so fucking tight, Paul, I’m gonna cum so hard." Paul groaned and his arse clenched involuntarily in anticipation.

Richard was pulling him back to meet his thrusts and Paul dropped his head, groaning deeply as Richard held his hips in place, cumming inside of him. Lazily, Richard reached around and pulled Paul off, breathing warm gusts of air into his ear. It took a moment for Paul to come back to himself. He sagged against the wall and took several deep breathes, trying to collect himself.