Date: 18 Jun 00 09:23:29
From: rimshot@planetaccess.com
Subject: Tango and Taz 5

Here's the new chapter.  The plot line is one that I got from an email
message.  Thanks, Randal.  I think it's going to be fun to see how it plays
out.

Rimshot@planetaccess.com

Dan


Tango and Taz 5: A little mystery, a little adventure


	Brock Hendricks grimaced in pain but refused to cry out.  His older
brother, Dorn, held his arm up behind his back and leered.  "You fuckin'
spook.  You're so fuckin' weak, it disgusts me."  Dorn said, lifting a
little higher on Brock's arm.  "Fuckin' wanna be Goth, you make me sick."

	"Then we have something in common."  Brock hissed between his
teeth, then crashed against the wall as Dorn threw him.  His 145 pound
frame did little damage to the doorframe where he hit, knocking his wind
out.  Dorn, a warehouseman, weighed in at 245 pounds, and had flicked Brock
like a fly.

	Since their dad, an overbearing abusive drunk, had disappeared two
years ago with some waitress, Dorn had taken over the job as head drunk for
the household.  Their mother, a slight timid woman, would no sooner try to
stop Dorn than jump over the moon.  Dorn was balding just like his father,
and had grown a fairly decent beer gut, just like his father.  At only
twenty-five, he looked years older, and was seldom seen without a beer can.

	Brock pulled himself up slowly, feeling a fresh hot burning in his
ribs.  He went through the door into his room and closed the door.  The
room was painted black.  Black walls, black trim, black doors, black window
shades.  Only the carpet had any color, and it was dark navy blue.  Brock
unbuttoned his black long sleeved silk shirt and exposed and angry red welt
across his ribs that would soon be a bruise.

	A fire burned in Brock's heart that was rapidly becoming hate.  He
blamed God for his parents, for his brother, for being dirt ass scraping
pennies together poor, and for the all time whopper daddy of all
injustices, for being gay.

	He pulled off his black cargo pants and carefully laid them over a
chair.  They were the only nice clothes he owned, and didn't want them
ruined.  Outside, he heard Dorn's battered Ford start up and creek and moan
as it backed out of what may have at one time been a well manicured front
yard, now just a weed patch.  He sighed, relaxing, now that Bigfoot had
departed.

	He turned on his computer, his alter ego, and brought up the net.
His only release was the freedom and anonymity it offered, and he bathed
himself in it every night.  He searched for images of boys his age, images
that could bring sweat release in fantasies.  Brock was totally unaware of
it, but he was not unattractive, although his feelings made him hideous.

	Years of his father, then his brother telling him how ugly he was,
and how stupid he was had done some major damage to Brock.  Although it was
a good cover, he wasn't a Goth, or any other group.  He dressed in black to
cover his own non-existent hideousness.  He was convinced that he was the
ugliest human alive, and that god made him worship other men to punish him
for being so vile.

	The screen warmed up, and he logged on to his favorite directory,
finding exactly what he'd been waiting to see all day.  There they were,
waiting as he entered his AVS password.  Tango and Taz, better known as
G.R. and Tanner.  He had gone to school with them since the sixth grade,
never once betraying their feelings for each other, or showing a chink in
their perfect armor.

	Furious, Brock slammed his fist on the desk.  How could they be
members of the in crowd all this time, and not suffer for being fags?
Where were the fucking rules?  Who's fucking game was he playing?  Why did
only Brock suffer?  He ran his eyes over their unevenly tanned but
exquisite bodies, trying to imagine himself with one or the other of them,
but unable shut the other out.

	A long shuddering sigh came from his mouth as he flipped through
the galleries.  It wasn't fair, that's all there was to it.  These two
lived only a few minutes away from him, and yet he couldn't touch either
one.  A tear rolled down his face, ignored.  There had to be some justice.
There just had to be, even if he made it himself.



	Brett decelerated his bullet bike and aimed for Tango's driveway,
using each of the gears to slow him self down.  It was almost dark when he
pulled off the street and waved at the figure in the window.  Dark clouds
towards the west flashed and threatened a storm, so he parked his beloved
bike under the carport and hung the helmet on its handlebars.  There was a
blue tarp under the seat in a small compartment, and he took it out and
pulled it over the bike and fastened it down.  As he stood up, he could've
sworn he saw something move.  Curious, he walked over to the bushes that
separated Tango's from the next yard.  A cat stood on the neighbor's porch,
and Brett chuckled as he headed for the house.

	"Aaaaaahh!"  Brett ducked as he walked through the door and twisted
to catch Taz in mid leap, carrying them both to the floor.  Taz laughed
manically and tickled Brett, who had guarded the secret that he was
severely ticklish all of his life.  He tried to push Taz away, but kept
jerking his arms back, knowing he looked like and idiot laying there
giggling.

	"God damn, Taz, you even scared me."  Tango walked out of the
kitchen in time to see his newly acquired boyfriend thrown onto the couch.
"I think he's a bit out of your league, killer."

	Brett stood up and pounced on Taz, pinning him down and tickling
back.  "OH GOD! QUIT IT!"  Taz shrieked, trying to hold his sides.  Tango
laughed at them and flopped into his easy chair.  Finally, Taz yelped and
rolled off the couch, breathing heavily.  "I had you, man.  I saw fear in
your eyes."

	Brett sat on the couch, winded, and shook his finger at Taz.  "You
crazy little fucker.  Next time, your ass is mine."  He reached in the
pocket of his cargo shorts and pulled out a video, tossing it to Tango.
"Sleepy Hollow.  It looked kinda cool."

	"We just got back from eating with my mom, but if your hungry,
there's all kinds of shit in the fridge."  Tango got up and went to the
VCR.  "Bring some cokes back, will ya?"

	Brett got up and went to raid the fridge while Taz make popcorn.
They settled in, Brett stretched out on the couch, and Taz lying on the
floor in front of Tango's chair with about six pillows.  It was an okay
show, but not real scary or funny.  Tango set it to rewind and led the way
out onto the patio to smoke.

	"That was a cool ass sword."  Taz took a smoke from Tango and lit
it.  "I like the way he swung it around, kinda like martial arts."

	Brett shook his head.  "That was campy.  I kept expecting Jackie
Chan to jump out of one of the houses and fight the horseman."

	"I heard he passed on the deal."  Tango smiled.  "It was okay,
though.  What were you expecting?"

	Lightening crackled near by, and the lights flickered.  Taz, who
hated lightening, looked up at Tango round-eyed.  Tango stubbed out the
cigarette.  "Brett, it's gonna be a bitch of a ride home.  Why don't you
stay?"

	"Yeah, man.  You'll get soaked."  Taz looked up at the dark sky and
felt a drop hit his shin.

	"Cool."  Brett followed them in and closed the sliding door.  They
made their way up to Tango's room and turned on the computer.  Brett sat
down and checked the web site, and moved over to make some room so they
could all read the emails.  Some were pretty pornographic, and Taz laughed
at them.

	"Dude," Taz stood up and pulled the folded tripod out of the
closet.  "We ought to do your pictures tonight and post 'em.  It'd be hot!"

	Brett blushed.  "Uh, I think I'd be to embarrassed."

	"Fuck that!  Me and Tango will be in 'em with you."  Taz pulled the
legs out and set up the camera.  "Remember, you said when the rest of you
was tan, you'd do it."

	"I did, didn't I?"  Brett felt like his face was on fire.  "Look,
guys.  I don't know if I can do, well, uh, things like that in front of a
camera."

	Tango put his hand on Brett's shoulder.  "Look, you don't have to
do it.  But if you want to, it's kind of a rush, and we'll do it with you.
I understand if you don't."

	Brett sighed deeply, and then looked at each of them.  "Why not?
It's all for money, right?  Money is my god."

	"Taz, let's set the camera up in the front room so we have more
room to move around.  That cable is thirty-five feet long.  That's plenty."
Tango plugged one end into the computer, set up the program to save the
files to the hard drive, and then ushered everyone out.

	"Dude, how 'bout Blink 182?"  Taz held up a CD for approval and put
it on to play.  Tango set up the camera, tested it, and set it to begin
recording.  He felt a draft and went to close the sliding door in the
kitchen.  When he got back, Taz was already dancing with Brett, warming him
up.

	Brock sat behind the wheel of his 1978 Subaru wagon, completely
unaware of the passage of the last two hours.  He had watched someone pull
in on a motorcycle and go in Tango's house.  It had been nothing to find
the address in one of his old student directories, and here he was, with no
idea of how he'd gotten here.

	Almost in a trance, he'd gotten out of the old Subaru and made his
way in to the shadows in the bushes, trying to see who had just arrived.
Brock slid under the pine tree next to Tango's driveway, almost being
discovered by the guy on the bike.  He bit his knuckle, pleading with the
god he hated to not be caught right now, right here.

	The guy turned and left with a chuckle.  Brock peered out as he
entered the house and observed part of what looked like a wrestling match.
A few minutes after the door closed, his heart hammering in his chest, he
moved towards the backyard, stopping for a second to touch the guy's
motorcycle, caressing it.  He shook his head slightly and turned towards
the gate.

	The kitchen light went out as he molded himself to the brick wall.
He heard their voices, and his excitement became almost uncontainable.
Slowly, almost painfully, he turned and lifted up to look through the
window.  Only one eye, then back down.  After a second, when he realized no
one was crashing out the back door to kill him, he looked again, more
boldly this time.

	Tango was in a chair with Taz lying at his feet.  Brock felt a tug
at his heart as his eyes ran over them.  Then he saw the guy with the bike
on the couch.  The world seemed to slow down and almost stop.  Brock's jaw
dropped as he took in the absolute beauty of the god that reclined on the
couch, wearing only a pair of cargo shorts.  His mind slipped into a
fantasy, where the platinum haired god was naked on a towel on a beach.  In
the fantasy, Brock walked up, and the blond god began to undress him,
running his massive powerful hands all over Brock's chest and abs.

	There was no sense of time passing as Brock watched the guy on the
couch and let the fantasy rule his mind.  With a gasp, he opened his eyes
and realized someone had turned on spotlights on the deck.  He dropped to
the ground painfully jamming his extremely hard penis into his leg.  He bit
his lip hard to keep from groaning.

	Oh shit!  They were all coming out on the patio!  Brock glanced at
the gate and realized he had no chance of escaping.  He huddled behind a
lilac tree and listened as they talked about the movie they'd just watched.
Brock actually liked Sleepy Hollow, and any other Tim Burton movie, and
found him self wishing he could join the conversation.

	They finally went back in, and he settled onto the concrete,
allowing his recently jammed dick to move back into a comfortable position.
After a few minutes he stood up and peered into sliding door.  They weren't
where he could see them, and he leaned against the door.  It slid a little,
and he quickly glanced to each side.  His palms were clammy as he took hold
of the handle and slid it open, then slipped inside.

	Taz bounded down the stairs, and Brock's eyes flew open.  He dived
head long into the first room he could find and landed in a pile of
laundry.  He clamped a hand over his mouth, barely stifling a scream, and
fought to control his labored breathing.  Finally he calmed down, and
realized wear he was.  He lifted his hand and came up with a pair of men's
low-rise briefs.  He held them to his face and inhaled, finding nirvana.
He would've been happy to just sit there, surrounded by their clothes, but
reluctantly, he stuck the briefs in his pants pocket.

	Music had started playing, and Brock carefully pulled the door open
and slipped into the kitchen.  It was hard to find a place that he could
see them from until he noticed a mirror by the front door.  He almost
staggered when he saw what was happening.  He could see the camera set up,
and they danced to the music, taking each other's clothes off and kissing
and touching each other.  All three of them.

	Taz ran his hands up Tango's chest and leaned in to kiss him,
keeping his legs and feet moving to the music.  He could feel Brett's hands
on his abs, and he closed his eyes.  Tango kissed his neck, his collarbone,
and his shoulder.  He felt Brett's massive hands pull off his shorts and he
moaned.

	Brock watched wide-eyed as Tango lowered himself to Taz's hardening
cock and licked it.  He whimpered, jamming his knuckle into his mouth.  It
was way too much to take, and he put his hand over his crotch and began to
rub.  Brett took off Tango's shorts and began to lick his ass, then after a
minute rubbed something onto Taz's cock and guided him towards Tango.

	Taz felt Tango tense up as Brett moved him into position, and he
wrapped his arms around him and rubbed his chest slowly, helping Tango
relax.  Tango took a deep breath and leaned his hands against Brett's
shoulders.  Brett's fingers had been up his ass, and it had felt so good.
Now, his nerve was going fast, and he leaned forward so that Taz could
reach.  Taz moved in, and Tango felt the tip touch his sphincter.  He tried
to relax, but couldn't.

	Taz entered him, and he bit on his lip and squeezed his eyes shut.
It hurt like hell, but he wasn't about to disappoint Taz.  Taz moved in
some more, and hit a threshold of some sort, then slid in easily.  Tango
released his breath and felt Brett hold him up on his feet.  It felt
strange, not at all what he expected.

	Taz started a slow rhythm, moving very carefully in and out.  Tango
felt it every time Taz's tip touched some kind of nerve, and he began to
groan every time it hit.  "Holy shit."  He mumbled, and then shivered as
Brett's mouth closed over his cock.  "Oh, God.  I can't believe this."

	Taz tweaked Tango's nipples and ran his hands over his chest and
stomach.  Tango began to push back at opposite intervals, and Taz began to
feel the tingle build in his stomach.  He tried to control his speed, but
Tango wanted more, faster, and Taz had to keep up.

	Brock watched with his hand in his pants, slick with fluids.  He
wanted to run out and wrap his mouth around the tall blond guy, the one who
had no one on him.  He gasped as Tango arched up and grunted loudly,
emptying himself into the tall guy's mouth.  Taz grimaced and wrapped his
arms tightly around Tango's waste and shouted, emptying himself into Tango.
Brock squeaked and closed his eyes, feeling himself go over the top,
shooting into his black satin boxers.  He braced himself against the wall,
over come by wave after wave.

	Tango and Taz pulled apart and kissed tenderly.  Tango got a wicked
smile on his face and Taz nodded, and they turned and pounced on Brett.
Tango sealed his mouth over Brett's and stuck his tongue deep into the
cavity.  Taz rubbed a huge glob of lube on to Brett's cock and lowered
himself over it, grunting as it passed inside.

	Brett was pinned on his back, with Tango holding him down.  Taz
started a fast paced up and down on him, and in very little time he could
feel his stomach knot up.  He arched his back, blowing a huge load into
Taz.  Taz kept up the motions until Brett sagged on the floor, exhausted.
They sprawled in a heap, panting and sweaty.

	"Dude, we need a towel."  Brock heard Tango mumble, and he
panicked, realizing where he was and what was happening.  He dashed into
the laundry room, and immediately knew the mistake he'd made.  He turned to
go back out and heard footsteps heading across the floor towards him.  He
searched for a window but there wasn't one.  The light came on, and he
whirled to come face to face with Tango.

	"What the fuck?"  Tango looked into the stranger's eyes and froze.
He was young, dressed in black, and had a wet stain on his crotch.  His
eyes where wild, and he lowered his shoulder and went past Tango, knocking
him back through the door.  Taz came around the corner, concerned about
Tango's shout, and collided head on with the stranger.  He landed with a
thud, but was right back on his feet to give chase.

	The stranger angled past Brett, who held his arms wide, and ran for
the glass door.  It took about .03 seconds to realize that the door was
closed.  It took about .5 seconds to pass through it anyway, shattering the
glass.  Brock lifted his arms to cover his eyes as he hit, hearing it crack
and shatter in slow motion.

	"Jesus Christ!"  Brett bellowed, watching the glass fall.  He
didn't even stop to think as he dived through the new opening and landed
clear of the glass, in hot pursuit.  The stranger looked over his shoulders
and his eyes widened as he saw Brett run out of the house.  He dodged left,
back towards the gate.

	Brock felt Brett's arms around him, and the momentum carried them
to the ground.  A loud 'oof' exploded from his chest and battered ribs as
they slid across the rain soaked grass.  "Let me go!"  Brock screamed and
pounded on Brett's arms.  "Get off me goddammit!"

	"Who the fuck are you?"  Brett snarled into the kid's ear, yanking
back on his hair.  "What were you doing in that house?  Answer me, or I'll
tear you in half!"

	"Do it."  Brock squirmed, and then saw his opening.  He bent down
and latched his teeth into Brett's arm and bit down hard.  Brett screamed
and let go, and Brock almost made it to his feet when Taz hit him from the
side, sending them sprawling.

	"Pick on somebody your own size."  Taz sneered and threw a vicious
kick to Brock's head, sending him flying to land flat on his back.  "Stand
up, asshole.  I'm not done yet."  Taz stepped over and pushed the kid's
head with his toe, then noticed that his eyes had rolled up into his head.

	"Um, boys?"  Tango walked up and handed them each a pair of shorts.
"I don't know for sure, but I think the neighbor's will frown on naked
combat lessons in the backyard, don't you think?"  He knelt next to the
stranger, lifting his face into the light.  "Tanner, isn't this that kid
that was in our Earth Sciences class last year?"

	"Yeah.  Brent or Brian or something."  Taz pulled on his shorts and
squatted next to Tango.  "Ben?  I don't fucking remember, Tango.  I hated
school."

	Brett zipped his zipper up.  His chest still heaved for breath, but
he was calming down.  There was a welt on his arm from the bite, but no
blood.  "What the hell was he doing watching us?  Was he gonna rob you, or
just kill us, or what?"

	"I don't see any gun or anything."  Tango patted the boy's pockets
and legs.  "Whatever he was doing here, he was getting off on us.  He
stinks."

	"Tie the fucker up.  We'll use a lighter to find out."  Taz said
forcefully, standing on the grass, hands on his hips.  Brett laughed and
pulled the short little runt over and hugged him.

	"Maybe we should call the cops."  Tango looked back at the door and
felt his stomach knot up.  How the hell would he explain this to his mom?

	"And tell 'em what, Tang?  That a pervert broke into your house to
watch you fuck two other guys?  That ought to be rich" Brett reached down
and scooped the kid up.  "Let's ask him when he wakes up.  I'll bet I can
make him real cooperative."

	"So can I."  Taz followed the tall blond back towards the house.
"Dude, I'll help clean this up.  Where's the brooms and shit?"  Tango and
Taz cleaned up the glass and put a piece of plywood over the door until
tomorrow.  They decided they'd tell Tango's mom that the wind took it out,
scaring the shit out of them.  It was blowing hard now, and had started
raining.

	They grabbed cokes and went up to Tango's room to see what Brett
was doing.  Tango stopped in the doorway, shocked.  The kid was tied to the
bed hand and foot, and undressed to his black silk boxers.  His mouth was
gagged, and his eyes were wide.  It was pretty easy to tell he was
terrified.  Brett stood at the end of the bed with a knife, borrowed from
the kitchen.

	"Whoa, dude."  Taz said, moving into the room.  "This is a little
freaky, man."

	"His name is Brock Hendricks."  Brett handed the kid's wallet to
Tango.  "Look what I found in his pants, guys."  He held up Taz's underwear
and tossed it to him.  "And if that ain't good enough, this is why he's
here."  He unfolded a white piece of paper, printer paper, with one of the
Internet pictures on it.  One of Taz rubbing his hardening cock for the
camera, and Tango kissing him.

	"Aw, shit.  I knew this would happen!"  Tango snatched the picture
and crumbled it up.  "Brock.  You are the kid from Earth Sciences, aren't
you?"  The kid narrowed his eyes, but couldn't speak around the gag.  "What
do you want from us, Brock?  Why are you here, and why are you jacking off
in my laundry room?"

	"If he ain't gonna talk, let Brett have 'im, Tango."  Taz waved his
hand dismissively.  "Looks like he was doing fine 'til we got here."  He
stood up and went to leave, stopping in front of Brett.  "Fuck him up,
dude."  He winked.

	"Leave us alone, Tang.  I want to talk to him."  Brett cracked him
knuckles.

	"I still think we should call the police."  Tango stood up and went
to the door.  "Brett, don't do anything stupid, 'kay?"  Brett nodded, and
he turned to go down and help Taz clean up the front room, which now
smelled a bit musky.

	"I got you figured out."  Brett said, closing the door behind them
and sitting on the edge of the bed.  "I'm gonna tell you a story, and you
tell me when I'm wrong, okay?  I think that you might have had a crush on
one or more of my buddies during school.  What do you think?"  Brock glared
up at him but made no moves.  "In fact, I think maybe you fantasized about
them, didn't you?"  Was that a flicker?  Brett couldn't tell.  "But for
some reason, like being shy or some shit, or the fact that you thought they
were straight, you never talked to them, but blame them for the lack of
your courage, right?"

	Brock's eyes burned as he listened to the tall blond.  He hated
him, but couldn't hate him.  He wanted to run, but couldn't run.  His ribs
ached, and he wanted to lower his arms.  He was so ashamed for getting
caught, and for letting himself get into this.  His head ached from the
kick he got from Taz.

	"So what are you here for, with no weapon, and no camera, Brock?
Why would you come here if it wasn't to talk to them?"  Brett reached for
the gag and loosened it.  "I'm gonna take this off now, Brock, and if you
scream, I will pound your teeth into the back of your mouth in one shot."
He pulled the cloth off and threw it on the floor.  "Ready to answer some
questions, or shall I just knock your ass out and drop you on the front
lawn at your place?"

	"What do you want to know?"  Brock mumbled, working his jaw.

	"I'll be go to hell.  It can talk."  Brett tilted his head and
looked at Brock's dirty features.  "You know, you might actually be
attractive under all that attitude.  Why are you here?"

	"I don't remember getting here."  Brock answered honestly.  "I
don't remember what happened until you guys started, uh, whatever."  The
back of his mind registered the fact that this blond god had just said he
was attractive, but the front brain didn't hear it.

	"You don't remember?  That's kinda bullshit isn't it?"  Brett stood
up and went to the bathroom and came back with a wet washcloth.  "I'm gonna
wipe your face off, Brock.  You can enjoy it, or hate it.  I don't care
which."  He wiped at the smudges of dirt, revealing an almost elf like
face.  Brock's fine brown hair was a mess, and he smoothed it out of his
face.  "Damn, Brock, you're not bad looking under all the dirt."  Brett
felt the other tense under his hand.

	"Please, don't tease me."  Brock swallowed.  "I just wanted to see
them, okay?  I didn't want to hurt anybody."

	Brett leaned back and saw that Brock was near tears.  "I'm gonna
untie you.  I think I scared you bad enough.  If you ever fuck with my
friends again, I'll snap you in half, got it?"  He leaned over and pulled
on the belts he'd used.

	Brock slowly sat up, cradling his ribs and rubbing his wrists.
Brett stood up and opened the door.  "If you're attracted to them, I
understand.  I am, too.  But there's other ways to let them know, dude.
It's not their fault you never dared to talk to them."  He scooped up the
black clothing and dropped it on the bed.  "You'd look a lot better in
something with color, man."

	"Like what?"  Brock made no move to pick up his clothes, unsure of
exactly what he was doing, feeling very afraid, but not wanting to leave
all of the sudden.

	"Anything but black.  It's old news, man.  You think their gonna
like some vampire wannabe?"  Brett pointed down the stairs.  "They like
life, and color, and humor.  Not this Goth shit."

	"I'm not a Goth."  Brock looked up tentatively.  He met Brett's
eyes, and for a second realized he could get lost in them very easily.  "I
just don't like attention.  I wasn't trying to attract them anyway."

	Brett leaned against the dresser and folded his arms.  "Who, then?"
Brock whispered something, and Brett leaned forward.  "I didn't hear that."

	"You."  Brock said a tiny bit louder, then tensed and waited for
Brett to beat the hell out of him.  It's what he deserved, what he
expected, and knew that it was coming.  He closed his eyes and waited.

	Brett was taken back by the answer.  He blinked, then looked at
Brock's face and saw him squeeze his eyes shut, waiting for the blow.  He
was so vulnerable, sitting in the middle of Tango's bed in his boxers, pale
like he never went out in the sun and thin but defined, his smooth features
clearly expecting the worst.  Something clicked in Brett.  He hated
watching the under dogs get pounded, and he hated the bastards that did the
pounding.  Some asshole had kicked this kid enough to make him into some
perversion of reality, and he hated whoever did it.

	But there was something else.  Brett hated being alone, too, and
knew what it was like.  He looked at Brock, who was small and scared, and
he saw a shadow of what could have been his own destiny.  It tugged at his
heart.  It also attracted him, a lot.

	"Open your eyes."  He commanded quietly.  Brock did so, and then
looked up at him.  "Come here."  Confusion washed over Brock's face.  "I
won't hurt you.  Come here."  Brock slid off the bed and walked over to
stand in front of Brett.  "You don't need to be afraid around me.  I won't
let anyone hurt you while you're with me."  He put his hands on Brock's
shoulders, feeling him shiver, and bent to kiss him lightly on the mouth.

	Brock almost swooned.  Those perfect lips were now in contact with
his, and he hesitantly returned the kiss.  He lifted his hands and placed
them on Brett's chest.  Brett was warm and solid, and Brock felt his knees
begin to buckle.  Brett held him up and broke the kiss, looking into his
eyes.

	"If you want to talk to us, we'll listen.  If you want to be with
us, you can, but you can't be this weirdo person, you have to be yourself."
Brett said, wiping at the tears that had fallen on Brock's cheeks.  "You
really are beautiful.  I'm not saying that just to dick around."

	Brock nodded and impulsively threw his arms around Brett and put
his head on his massive chest.  Oh, please, don't ruin this, he thought,
unable to stop the tears.  Please, don't let this go away.  Brett's arms
encircled him, and he felt so safe, so happy.

	"You wanna go down and talk to Tango and Taz?  Tell us what the
deal is?"  Brett asked, leaning back.  It felt so right to hold this guy,
so right to feel his heart open up to him.  He hoped it wasn't a huge
mistake.  Brock nodded again, but put his hand on Brett's arm before they
left Tango's room.

	"Do you think I could borrow some clothes?"  He asked, looking up
into those wonderful eyes again.  "Maybe something other than black?"
Brett grinned, lighting up Brock's heart.  They kissed again, feeling
something grow like a wildfire between them.