Warnings: The usual ones apply: real people slash, sex between men, explicit language. In addition: homicidal boy-bander members.

It's been long since the last posting. As a technical solution to your fading memory of this... epic there's an overview of the chapters at my website.

Lots of thanks to Kenovay for betaing. As usual, I fiddled with the chapter after she mailed it back. The errors are all mine, I'm sure.

Hope you enjoy :-)



The Tail of the Tiger, Chapter 21

The Pink Rabbit and the Axe-Murderer

AJ and I had left Joey's house to meet and have a drink at a small place that AJ recommended for reasons untold.

A large, bulky guy entered right in front of us, and looked around with the kind of alert and closed expression that triggers my internal alarm system. Trouble! Run! "Just ignore him, that's what he prefers," AJ said when he noticed me looking.

It was the kind of dump where I get paranoid about cockroaches and, never mind good manners, drink the beer straight out of the bottle. It was also the kind of place that would be open until two hours after midnight, leaving us close to an hour for smoking and sharing stories while huddling over a sticky plastic table.

There were two men and a woman at the bar, talking slurrily with one-another. A fellow next to them looked to be asleep sitting on the bar stool, slumping with the routine of one used to sleep while perched on that particular kind of furniture.

So there we were - two tough guys in a dingy place doing tough guys' business in a dark corner. One of us even had a bodyguard, and was wearing shades to fit the most paranoid spy. I was glad that they both were on my side.

I was on top of the world. "Mission complete. I'd say it was a thundering success."

AJ held up his hand, confusing me - then he had to teach me how to do a proper high five. "We gotta go back and check," he said when he was satisfied with my performance.

"Okay. Do we tell who did it?"

"Man.... I don't now." AJ wrinkled his nose. The nose straightened out again and we drank our beer, sitting in quiet for a moment.

"I think-"

AJ grinned. "Don't hurt yourself."

"I was thinking and it hurt but I still did it."

"Yeah? What were you thinking?"

"It really bugs JC when his friends don't get along." I was talking to my own double reflection when I really wanted eye contact. "Like you and Lance. Look - you have built up to a fine piece of diplomacy here, maybe you should use it."

"You like watching, like, from behind some tree, while Lance eats me raw, starting with my feet?"

"Hey, I hadn't thought of that. Brilliant plan-"

"Ha, ha. Ha."

"Actually - I have seen Lance change his point of view."

"Yeah? How many times?"

"At least once."

"Once. And Kirkpatrick's a shaman - now, that one I can actually believe."

"It's all true."

"Really? You're not fucking with me, Lance can change his mind?"

"Yes." And an oil tanker can brake. It only takes ten kilometers or more. "With a little persistency on your side it will work." I think.

"Okay." AJ straightened. "Okay. But if you're wrong then I promise I'll come back and haunt you."

"Right. So one more scare and-"

"You wanna tell them tonight?"

"Why not? You want me to be there too, don't you?" Besides - they are bound to make a right guess very soon and they're unlikely to include him in that guess. I don't want to take the brunt of it alone.

"Well, Kirkpatrick was running around with a baseball bat, for one thing."

Chris with a baseball bat! Nice Chris, nice to me, his favorite baseball bat! Find Chris! "He was that. He's good?" Of course he was good - I just wanted to hear AJ talk about Chris.

He swallowed. "Maybe we shouldn't do this at all."

"Don't be a.... I think the word is "sissy"?"

AJ raised an eyebrow, meaning "close enough and you better stop right there".

"How about one more scare and then we can laugh our heads off?" Watch Chris with a baseball bat!

"You forgot what comes between those two pieces of action. Going from A to B in that plan may leave us with no fucking head to laugh with. For a guy who wets himself over a stupid horror film you're goddam eager for trouble."

I just raised an eyebrow at him.

He wagged an undaunted eyebrow right back at me. "If Lance's got the bat then I'm off like a rabbit."

I thought of the way Lance had wielded the maul when we put up the fence. "I don't think they'll let him near the baseball bat - he'd just hurt himself, the china or an innocent bystander. Also, I really can't see him get violent."

"You haven't seen the way he looks at me. I have no problem seeing him grind meat and bone with his bare hands - my meat and bone."

"If you say so. " My imagination still had trouble with that one. "I only have a rubber lizard, ten extra thin sanitary towels-"

"Ten what?"

"Sanitary towels."

"Okay. Sanitary towels. Of course. What else?"

"The Halloween masks and the mechanical mice."

"I put everything I had into the fridge. But the masks - we should be able to do something with those. I want the troll."

"I'll take the princess, then."

On our way out, AJ's knapsack got filled with beers as befitting for a diplomatic mission. The bulky guy quietly emptied his soda and came over.

"We're going back to Joey's house," AJ informed him.

The guy merely nodded. He followed us out, and got into his own car.

By the car, I changed out of my new leathers and into my ragged work pants. AJ was leaning against the hood, waiting for me to finish, smoking another cigarette. "So, Kirkpatrick's gonna set up traps."

"It's likely. Also they might have loaded the big water guns." I reached out a hand. He let me have his cigarette for a few puffs.

"In other words - don't bring any portable electronics."

"Yes. I've begun carrying an extra set of clothes in a watertight bag when I go visiting." I pulled Tom's sweater off.

AJ peered at me, opened his mouth and closed it again.


"You and Kirkpatrick are pretty tight, aren't you?"

Tight Chris! Nice, hot and tight Chris! With a baseball bat! "Yes." I pulled a T-shirt on and sat down sideways on the front seat to fasten my sandals. It was a weird dance that AJ and I were having here. I had a feeling that he had a good idea of what kind of friendship there was between Chris and me. "I think that there are some things that the two of us shouldn't talk too much about. Right?"

He chuckled and took a drag on his smoke. "Yeah."

I put the jacket on. "I'm ready."

He flicked the cigarette away. "Let's go."

We parked at the empty house again and walked quietly from there to Joey's house. The garage light was on, spilling into the street in front of the house.

We had wound the springs of the mechanical mice up tightly and secured them with sticks and rubber bands so that they would be ready to run once the sticks were removed.

"They're probably watching the front," AJ mumbled as we walked towards the house. He sniffed the night air. "Fuck, somebody put a trash can on fire."

"Chris. He's fumigated the whole neighborhood."

AJ grinned and adjusted his shades decisively.

We went in via the neighbor's walkway and jumped the fence; we looked but saw no traps in Joey's garden. Leaving our bags behind, we sneaked forward. AJ was wrong about me being eager - I was pretty sure that the tight feeling in my belly had nothing to do with eagerness. I did not tell him.

There were voices coming from the back; if we were lucky, then they all were out on the back porch. Which did not make a lot of sense: the stench inside the house had to be so overwhelming that they should have retreated to the very back of the garden.

"-my mum?" Lance's voice was rolling with the movement of his eyes. "Can you see my mum fix the moving furniture in the storage room or make the tape? Forget it, Joey."

"She could've done the fridge."


"You could've helped her," Justin said.

"Yeah." I knew that drawl. Chris! Snarky Chris! Lick him! "I can see it, Fred with a screwdriver-"

"Cut it out, Chris. I can so use a screwdriver and don't call me Fred-"

"Still, Joey's right - it's gotta be somebody who knew what film you rented. That's your mum, man."

"Ding dong." That was JC making one of his obscure remarks.

All of them were accounted for; this was the situation we wanted: AJ and I got the masks out.

"Yeah? You really think it was me, JC?" Chris sounded pleased.

"Nope - you may have primed Mikkel, though. Only - man, I just cannot see him cooperating with demons."

Very gratifying.

"You think I would?" Chris asked indignantly.

Stupid question.

His friends answered with several seconds of solid silence.

Chris was probably frowning in return.

"Sanitary towels?" That was Joey. The others groaned as if he was returning to something he'd already talked a lot about. "I tell you, there's gotta be a woman in there somewhere. No man would - I mean, sanitary towels, hello!"

You put a deadly killer baby alligator zombie on top of two clean sanitary towels - and what does Joey focus on? The killer beast? No, no, of course not. The sanitary towels? Yes!

"It could be one huge parental plot!" One could hear the light bulb above Chris' head go pling as it lit up.

"You mean - like the Fatones, my mum, Lance's mum?" Justin sounded happy at the prospect. "They could do it. I could so see Diane with a sani-"

"Justin!" Lance sputtered and the others laughed.

Masks in place, AJ and I got out the mice.

Justin stood his ground. "Well, you saw her with the condom - I bet you she was having fun dangling that thing right in your face. Why not a-"

"Justin! Stop!" Lance sounded really desperate.

AJ and I quietly crowded by the corner and pulled the sticks. Reaching around we set the mice free and quickly pulled back our hands.

A combination of clack-de-clack and bzzz told us that the mice were running across the boards.

Busta barked; pleasingly shocked exclamations blended with the sound of chairs toppling. AJ and I stepped around the corner. Joey was gracious enough to yelp. Somebody with a cool head and glittering black eyes was ready for us - we got the spray of the garden hose right in our faces before we could start making threats and scary noises.

The trap had been lying there in full view and I never noticed it, even though we had walked right past the tap and the attached hose. The paranoid little bastard had kept the hose ready in his hand. One could hardly imagine the determination it must have taken not to play with it.

The water went through the holes and right inside the mask, blinding and suffocating me. The spray stopped just as I tore the mask off.

Chris' "Get 'em!" was wholly superfluous - he and the others were already flying through the air, the five of them moving in perfect sync: three for me and two for AJ. It was not the time to marvel at the liquid coordination they displayed in that move. It was time to get rammed.

I didn't stand a chance, not with Chris throwing himself at my legs, entangling them in cobras, Joey simultaneously slammed against my chest with his shoulder, while Lance took hold of my hair. I went down like a piece of lumber. They had the distribution of themselves down pat - Chris on my belly while Joey lay across my legs. Lance, the bitch, had a knee firmly planted on my horse tail, effectively keeping my head against the ground, while helping Chris hold down my arms.

I found myself looking up into a fierce grin sparkling with evil behind the snaky curtain of dark braids. Beautiful Chris! "Hello, Mikkel. What a pleasant surprise." Evil Chris! Bite him! He leaned forwards, grasping my rib case with his knees. "Wanna hug?"

"You Fuck!" was all I got to say - then he was scissoring his legs, massaging my sides with his knees. It hurt, and it tickled, and it threw me into spasms. He was going like a professional sprinter on a doping binge.

After what seemed like an eternity, he stopped. For a moment I naïvely thought that he had finished. It was just a pit stop - he demanded that the others help getting my jacket off so that he could get a better grip on my ribs.

Please! Somebody help!

But the only one who got any help was Chris. Once the jacket, despite my efforts to achieve the opposite, was removed, he was on for another sprint. Those dancer's legs of his had a really strong grip. Had he been torturing somebody else's ribs, then I'm sure I would have appreciated watching him move.

Only it was me that he was sitting on, and it was my ribs that were getting a work-over; it was so-so with my appreciation. After several decades, Lance said, "You're slowing down. Let me!"

It wasn't true but Chris let Lance take over anyway. Lance was less of a sprinter: he was a long distance man.

And when Lance took a pause it was only to ask, breathless but very businesslike, "Has he wet himself yet?"

Joey groped me, "No."

Regretfully, I was too far-gone to appreciate the groping leave alone say anything coherent - like beg for mercy and offer them my grandmother in exchange for my freedom.

Lance asked Chris in that same business-voice, "Is he still conscious?" Which was a pretty stupid question - he just had to take one look at me to see that I was dead.

Chris checked my condition by twisting my nose. "Yeah. Go on, man. There's lots of mileage in him yet."

They ignored the very pitiful mewl that I made. Even to my own ears I sounded like I was way beyond the end of my mileage, but there was no mercy in these guys.

"O-kay." Lance initiated another very determined massage.

When I heard Joey from far off, "Okay, he did it," I didn't really understand what was going on at first. The weights holding me down disappeared and, more important, the pressure torturing my very sore sides disappeared, too. Slowly, I became aware of the wet sensation gone even wetter, and I understood what Joey had meant.

"I ... owe you ... an apology," I gasped to AJ. He lay disheveled in the grass not far away, getting crushed by Justin who was making a show out of sitting very comfortably on AJ's belly. JC was sitting next to them, toying with the turned off garden hose.

"For what?" AJ gasped.

"When you said ... Lance's shit list is hell ... I didn't ... believe you." I had gathered enough strength in my arms to unzip my wet jeans. "You ... were damned right."

AJ barked a wheezy laugh. The others, with the exception of Lance, were laughing too.

"You guys went too easy on him." Lance was talking to Justin and JC, and pointing at AJ. He had the determined look of somebody about to rectify a very serious mistake. "He's still breathing."

"Noo!" AJ was very close to popping his eyes. "I'm not!" He actually managed pushing Justin off, and tried to roll to his feet.

JC shoved the now spraying head of the garden hose down the back of AJ's pants. It certainly did nothing to mollify AJ but it did mollify Lance somewhat.

I fought to kick off my sneakers; apart from the persistent soreness in my ribs, a sting in my side made moving really uncomfortable.

Joey, the sweetheart, pulled the shoelaces to make it easier for me. "AJ, man - how did you get into this?"

AJ had freed himself of the garden hose and was eyeing JC. JC successfully aped Lance's shark grin. With a disgusted snort AJ turned the water off and let the hose fall before turning to Joey. "I came here to see JC. It was Mikkel who opened the door. He said he was watering flowers but he looked like he'd been repotting the whole fucking yard. He started it. It was all his fault."

I snorted.

AJ continued. "He forced me to man the mixing board."

"The sanitary towels - what were they for?" Joey wanted to know.

"Zombies get periods, too," I said. Finally the shoes came off.

Joey wriggled his fingers at me, making fiery associations race up and down my ragged ribs.

"Landing pad for the basement key," I said hurriedly.

He frowned, then his face cleared. "You were in the basement? Ha! I knew I heard something when we were down there."

Lance turned his back to me when I began pushing the jeans off.

The other five were looking me over unabashedly. "Never seen a guy wet himself before?" I pulled off the T-shirt too - there was a side effect to peeing oneself when lying down.

"No." Justin grinned.

Look at me!

Great, just great. And the stupid lump of meat isn't only swelling, it's stinking of piss, too.

Chris smiled knowingly, hot and amused at the same time.

The ears, look at the ears! Really - the light was too bad to tell whether the ear tips were red or not.

"Actually, no." JC smiled.

I got up to get the garden hose to rinse my clothes and myself.

Maybe that will show that stupid lump of muscle. No! Help! It's co- Ha!

It took me while to get all the way to the washing machine - I spent most of the way listening and looking for zombies in dark corners. I found none. The light was still on and the door was still unlocked when I had started the washing machine and left, hurrying out of the scary place.

When I came back up in the safer part of the house, I met JC who came in through the front door, carrying a sports bag. He sent me a quick smile. "Erh, Mikkel? You don't mind using the bathroom down here, do you?"

"Of course not."

"Fabulous." He ran upstairs, taking two steps at a time.

I went to wash my hands, wondering what was so fabulous about my choice of bathroom. There was nothing to see and nothing happened while I was in there. Whatever it was probably was situated in the bathroom upstairs. Wanting as much entertainment out of JC's project as I could get, I decided to leave him alone. I went to see AJ's piece of art.

The nightmare creeps had successfully attacked and conquered the fridge. It was probably their leader that was so royally displayed on the center shelf: the doll head was all decked out in soy, jam and green jell. One of its eyes had been poked out and the socket filled with a red sauce. There were four-, six- and eight-legged minions everywhere. My eyes were inevitably drawn to one huge arachnid specimen staring menacing at me from inside a big glass of clear green nuclear waste. The cold only played a minor part in the shivers that raced over my skin, leaving hives of goose bumps behind.

Somebody walked down the hallway, a rolling, quick gait. Chris!

"Out here," I said, glad of the company.

Chris, bare-chested and in grimy, faded jeans, shouldered the door open. The Nipples! Lick, lick, lick! He smiled. "Looking at the fridge, huh?" Look at the nipples!

"AJ did a really good job, didn't he?"

"Yeah. Scared the shit outa me." He came over; stroking my ass he grinned to himself and looked inside the fridge. "McLean's Arctic Horror Zoo, man. Dig it."

I put an arm around him, and nuzzled his hair when he leaned against me. He smelled a lot of smoke.

"How the hell did you get the zombie mummy alligators into the AC?" Chris wanted to know.

The smell of smoke was actually pleasing when it came mixed with the smell of Chris Sweat. "I took the shielding off the furnace and then I hid behind the door while AJ yelled killer mummy zombie baby alligator provocations into the vent in the living room."

Chris looked expectantly at me.

"Ask AJ. He's the expert on those." I closed the fridge.

"And then they all came running?"

"Yes. I had left the door to the back room in the basement open so that they could get out. I don't know what AJ was telling them but the critters were mad. They were screeching really loud. Like you sometimes do, only they went even higher, and there was a whole bunch of them."

Chris was well aware of his own prowess. "That's scary, man."

"Yes, very. Anyway-"

"Chris?" JC's voice floated downfrom upstairs. "Is that you?"

"Yeah. In the kitchen."

JC's ran down the stairs to appear in the door. He paused, seemingly at a loss what to say.

I was about to ask him what was up when Chris poked my chest with a demanding finger. "And then?"

"Right. So I was hiding behind the open door with the shielding ready. And I could hear the mad critters right at the other side of that door. I was sweating stink-sweat, I tell you. I mean, they could have chosen to take the stairs instead of the direct route through the pipe system, and then they would have seen me. They would have torn me apart. I could hear their little claws scratching on the metal when they climbed. And then, when they were all inside, I jumped out, and I slammed the shielding back on the furnace." I illustrated with my hands how smooth and quick I had been. Chris looked befittingly impressed.

"Oh, my god." JC stared at me. "We took out one of the grilles. They could've jumped us! Joey was sitting right in front of the hole."

"They would've torn his throat out like." Chris snapped his fingers. "Blood everywhere." He made a wet sound very much like that of blood spraying a wall.

I had no problem imagining the situation. "Now, that would have been a cleaning job."

"Yeah. Joey's got a lot of hot, Italian blood in him."

JC had gone slightly pale. "Uh. Right. Ah. The others are having a beer outside. Are you two going?"

Chris snapped his fingers again. This time it was to signal that he had just remembered something. "I gotta get clothes for AJ-"

"No, no." JC held up his hands and made warding motions. "I. Ah. I'll do that. I... I know what he likes. And his size. And stuff. Like... you know. Erh - say why don't you two just go outside, there's beer-"

"I want a bath," I said. What's he up to?

"Okay." JC backed towards the staircase. "Okay. I... really need to go to the bathroom. You - maybe, you prefer to use the bathroom down here. Yes. That's, it's... a good idea. I mean, my stomach, my stomach. I already, up there.... You know, like sometimes.... It already stinks a lot. Like. Erh. See you." He turned and ran up the stairs.

Chris and I exchanged glances. The confusion on his face seemed as genuine as the one inside me. "JC?" Chris called.

"Yeah?" He voice floated down from the upper landing. "You want, like, clothes too? I can bring you something. Or something. Just a minute. Mikkel, do you need clothes?"

"No, thanks. I like being naked. In case of an emergency, I have a bag outside. But - perhaps a towel?"

"Sure. A towel. I'll get you one."

Chris grasped my arm and pulled me with him. "JC, why don't you use the bathroom down here? I've got everything upstairs-"

"No, no. You wait there. Right there. Just... wait, okay?"

I wrapped my fingers around Chris' wrist that was corded and hard from his grip on my arm; digging my heels in, I yanked him to a stop.

Chris glared and pulled. "Come on!"

"I want to see what he's up to."

"So do I!"

"I want to see it when it's ready."

"I wanna see it now. Fair play's overrated like hell."

"I don't think so. It's more fun my way."

"No. It's more fun my way."

"No, it isn't."

"Yes, it is."

"Nope! My way is more fun."

"No, it isn't."

This intellectually satisfying debate, punctuated by yanks, was still going on when JC returned with towels enough for five people. Picking up enough stuff for five people could have been a spinal reflex kicking in when he was stressed. He had been collected enough to include Chris' beloved Spiderman towel.

"Here." He thrust the pile at Chris and let go. Chris caught the towels, and I caught the small brown bottle that was rolling off them. JC turned and ran up the stairs, presumably to look for clothes for AJ.

At the very last moment, I caught a handful of Chris' hairdo. The pull in him was so great that he would have flown up the stairs by telekinesis and slammed against a wall with a great thud. He would have hurt himself terribly.

Convinced that I had a good hold on him, I checked to see what was in the bottle. "Almond oil."

"Maybe he wants you to cook something," Chris suggested, twisting to get a look at the bottle. "A cake?"

I checked the label again. "With massage oil?"

"Well, it's vegetable-stuff. It probably tastes of almonds, too. Plenty of cake-y qualities, if you ask me."

"I did not. Hey, do you want a cake?"

"Not really. I'm a meat, beer and chips man."

With a sugar addiction on the side. The Meat Man! Chris the Meat Man! Bite and lick nice meat! Super Duper Partner Meat!

Chris suppressed a grin, his eyes glinting. He knew exactly who was yelling inside my head. "A massage would be nice. With lots of oil."

Good Chris! Nice Chris! Massage me with oil! Nice Chris! Oil all over Chris! Rub, rub, rub me all over Chris!

"On my bed and with lots of oil, you know, really squishy," he added. "We can borrow Joey's rubber sheet. Man, we really could pig out! Oil all over; dig it, dude-"

Dig, dig, dig! Yes! Shquishy Chris!

His eyes were alight. "We could take Mamma Fatone's Italian cooking oil, too - all one and a half liters."

I tightened my grip on his hair and fought the overwhelming Chris! Nice Chris in oil! Squishy buttocks! Rub and squish, rub, rub- that was on endless repeat. I showed him my teeth.

Chris frowned, then his face cleared and he started a different angle of attack. "JC's probably been inspired, you know."

"What do you mean?" Do I really want to know? Why can't I just keep my mouth shut?

Nice Chris, squishy Chris in oil - rub, rub, rub me in Chris in oil! Go! Now!

"Man, the AC's still full of killer mummy zombie baby alligators - and you pointed him to the grilles. He's up to something really nasty right now."

I knew that I wouldn't like it.

Chris was warming to the subject. "Know what? They're probably angry as hell with you for locking them up inside the AC. Imagine what their revenge will be like? With JC on their side - man, you're in deep, deep trouble. You think JC's a sweet guy? Let me tell you, he's just a monster in disguise-"

"Shut up." JC a monster? JC?

"He's out to get you. And - hey, he probably thinks I'll side with you.... Which I won't, of course. Actually, if you let me go, I'll help him make the experience even more interesting for you. More fun!"

In time, everything becomes clear. Now, if I just could figure out what is wrong with his argumentation. "Fun? As in two monsters in disguise out to get me, except your disguise was blown to pieces long ago?"

Chris blinked, the dark powers of his eyes were sucking the will out of me.

Sweet Chris in oil! Lots of nice, Italian olive oil all over Chris! Lick, lick and rub!

A victorious grin pulled at the edges of his mouth, he was fighting determinedly to keep the soft-eyed look going - and loosing. Beautiful imp. Beautifullest in oil! Did he figure what the Soft-eyes do to me? If he did, I'm in trouble.

"Blowjob," I said in a weak counter attack. No other tactics came to mind right at that moment. "Your hard dick pushing my throat open. Did I tell you that I sometimes can feel your pulse?"

Chris stopped pulling.

Yes, yes, yes! Eat Partner! Make Partner spew! "And when you are ready to come, your dick-" Partner! "Sorry, Partner, makes this little jump, and gets really hard and it's swelling, and the veins stand out - I can feel their pattern with my lips when Partner is sliding in and out. It's so hot; it tickles all the way down to my toes. And right before it spews, Partner gives off heat like a-"

Chris shivered. "If you're gonna mention a kitchen appliance: don't." The tips of his ears were burning red.

"I wasn't." Take his clothes off now!

"Then what?"

"What what?" Get on with it! Stupid Mikkel!

"Go on! I want the rest."

"Okay." I started walking. He followed, walking backwards following the bundle of braids that I pulled with me, while trying to pry my hand open.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Blowjob." We got through the door and into the hallway.

Blowjob! Smart Mikkel! Blowjob!

"Blowjob?" Chris' fingers stilled, and he held on to my arm while he followed my lead, easily dancing backwards on light feet.

"Blowjob," I answered.


"Blow-job." Chris savored the sound; it rolled of his tongue in round shapes. "Blouw-jorb."


"Blowjob!" He exclaimed loudly enough for the people out on the porch to hear him; with Joey in the lead they started laughing.

"Blowjob," I confirmed firmly, and got Chris through the door to the bathroom without any mishaps.

"The Mighty Chris Kirkpatrick Prize Shower and Blowjob," Chris said when I let go of him. He pushed me into the shower stall and up against the cold tiles.


"I wanna blow you."

Yes! He wants me! I'm ready! Like a baseball bat. Look at me! Lick me, suck me! I'm magnificent!

Somebody knocked on the door when we in the middle of a messy, wet kiss.

"Your stuff is out here," JC told us through the door. "Yours too, Mikkel."

Dizzy from Chris' mouth it took a blink or two to understand what JC was talking about.

A Mighty Chris Kirkpatrick Prize Shower involved a lot of soapsuds, and a set of sure hands that went everywhere and were very gentle with bruised ribs, knowing exactly when to be teasing and when to be rough.

And it involved a clever mouth and tongue that knew to stay out of soaped surfaces and only work rinsed areas of skin.

Iiiiiiih! It took determination to stand still when he rinsed the soapsuds off my dick, holding the shower head close to an oversensitive dick head. Stop! Help! More! Again! Iiiih! Stop! Don't stop! Iiiih! Help! Don't stop!

My belly contracted in anticipation when he sent me a heated and amused glance. He knew exactly what he was doing to me.

When he flicked a glistening, pink tongue over his soft lips, my knees gave out. I stumbled and would have fallen if there hadn't been a wall to lean against and a solid shoulder to hold on to.

He grinned fleetingly, licking his lips again just to play with my breathing pattern. I was in free fall and kept on falling with a heart full of Chris. The blood was rushing like wind in my ears.

He let the shower head fall; rough and determined he pushed me against the wall, moving in to-

He's going to, he's going to - yes! Here it comes! Watch me! Watch Chris! He's going to, oh yes, to - Chris is - Chris - is going to - blow meee!

Chris was on his knees, doing very nice things to my dick with his warm mouth and lively flicking tongue. The drenched braids fell in front of his face, dark eyes peeked up at me, and my dick slipped into the warm, slick cave-

Ooh! Push me in!

Which I didn't but I pushed the braids out of the way to see the dear face better.

Chris' arm was moving-

He's, oooh, he's - look! He's - it's Partner - he's-

Partner's purple, glistening head was disappearing and reappearing in the secure grip of Chris' small, square hand. Somebody groaned. It couldn't be Chris, not with his mouth full....

Chris shivered and, knowing the ways of that moving hand, I could well understand why.

The image of Chris' hand on Partner was shining like neon in my mind even when my eyes closed. And the specter of it stayed like an overlay through the confetti light show that reduced my mind to a collection of warm, glowing dots.

Somehow I managed a transition to sitting position. A quick, slick something was poking at my lips. When impatient teeth nipped me, I finally got the idea and sucked his tongue inside.


I know that taste! It's me! And Chris!

He gasped into my mouth; a soft explosion that sent a hot pressure wave rolling though me, shattering my quivering heart and already melted bones-

He's still - oooh - he's still-


Still going!

Oh, Chris!

I wanted to never let go of that mouth, I wanted to keep drinking him, I wanted to watch that square hand do it's magic, I wanted his dick in my mouth, in my throat. I wanted - everything. Awash in hot hunger, I merely ran my fingertips up and down his moving arm, tracing the rhythmic slide and bunch of muscles. His soft grunts and sighs filled me, kept filling me as if there was no bottom and no end.

Beautiful! It hurts! So beautiful!

Then - the Shivers! And the Mewl!

A wet, warm and pliant Chris snuggled into my arms. A single, thin spray from the discarded shower head was entirely out of line, hitting him in the face. Hiding his face by my shoulder, he grunted an exasperated protest when the spray hit him in the ear. I turned the shower off. Before he got any stupid ideas, like rinsing himself off, I picked up his hand and licked his semen off the warm skin.


Chris' "Ngh-n" really meant "give me a kiss".

Of course he got one. A slow one this time, soft and full of attention.

Love you. Want your imprint all over my soul. "Mmm. Spaghetti sauce."

He chuckled and bit my lip, chewing gently with sharp teeth.

"You need a hair wash," I informed him.

"Wash me."

He was a rag doll. The only muscles that worked were those in his belly that jumped when he was chuckling. I laid him out as well as I could in the shower stall. He didn't protest when I soaped his front up a third time - the nipples and belly felt so nice under my soaped hands that I just had to.

Arms folded under the back of his head, he merely contemplated the activity. "Let me guess: My belly really stinks?"

"Not that I noticed."

"It's got Busta paw prints on it?"

"Nope. No paw prints, not even mouse paw prints."

"This week's discount - three belly washes for the price of one?"

"Exactly. Do you have coupons?" I found coupons a fascinating aspect of American household economy. Mormor had vetoed my use of them, so I had to use them in secret.

"Sure." It wouldn't occur to Chris to veto the use of coupons. "But only for a ball wash, man."

The nice hairy balls got several coupons' worth of attention.

He did squeal a little when I washed his ticklish knees and feet. When I pushed his knees towards his ears and washed his butt he was laughing. Since it was so funny I gave him a second soap over-and-in.

How to get him up? Oh.... Yes, this will work. Definitely.

Having a large, fluffy and very pink sponge stuck in his ass had him grinning a lot more with his eyes than with his mouth, and he stumbled quickly to his feet. Three seconds later he gave up watching over his shoulder and was wiping the mist off the mirror in order to see.

While he posed and watched, I dried us both off.

"Ha!" was a sound of satisfaction. He swung his hips in belly dancer moves, somewhat hampered by having to twist to see the mirror. The sponge stayed in place; despite its fluffiness it looked coarse between the smooth, pale mounds. "I got a tail!"

The Buttocks! Slap them! Red and tender buttocks would go very nicely with that sponge. The soft skin was relaxed and sated, snuggling up to my fingers. "It suits you."

"Yeah. I knew I was meant to have a tail, man." Looking into the mirror, Chris watched my hand caress his butt.

"I'm not sure about this model, though. Like, Fred's tail-" I stopped when I had to shiver; in the mirror his dark gaze was full of laughter and delightful threats. "It's - I mean you should have a model that you could wag, curl or grab things with, is all." Grab things? What am I saying? Imagine the chaos!

Oh, I wish I could get him one. A long one with a very strong grip.

He eyed himself for long enough for me to dry his back. "That vibrator-thing in the mask on the basement wall might work."

"It could have - before it went into the mask. It's a bit tricky to install as it is now." Might as well face up to it. "It kind of used to be your dildo. I owe you a new one."

He barked a laugh, oddly triumphant.

"It wasn't special?" I was relieved.

"No. Yes. Not like that, man. I got it as a break-up present from one of my exes, like, she was being a bitch. I've wanted to throw it out but, dude, throw out a working dildo? It's not right."

That explained the arrows and words that somebody had drawn with a large felt pen: "in", "out" and "stiff!" in large letters. "And it hasn't really started being a funny memory yet?" I asked.

"Well, now it is. Man, you've been digging around in my kink bag."

I hugged him, caressing his behind. "For a wag-less tail, that one looks quite good on you. And you have an really interesting collection of nipple clamps."

His already soft skin softened even further and joined with mine. Light-fingered, he teased the Spot at the base of my spine. "How did you like the handcuffs?"

My breath deserting me in a rush right into his ear was answer enough.

In the quiet we could hear laughter from the porch.

"I wanna go out there," Chris said.

"Give me a sec. I want to watch." I opened the door and got my bag, hurrying to put on my new pants.

"Whoa!" Chris touched the bulky front. "Dick-candy, dude. Those are frigging dangerous in public."

Maybe Kamilla had had a point when she said that one should show off one's ass-ets while there was still something to show. If it only took a pair of pants to get those hands questing on my body - then I was about to order a dozen of the same kind. Even if they were short of pockets, only having two condom sized ones in front.

"Ready?" Chris held the door open, stepping from one foot to the other.

"Yes. You?"

He looked over his shoulder and wriggled. The sponge stayed. He nodded.

"AJ," I said, when Chris stepped out.

"Man, if he hasn't figured it out by now then it won't matter what we do."

"It's okay then?" I tugged the sponge into a more anatomically correct position for a tail and made sure it was secured properly.

"Sure." He had been watching the adjustment over his shoulder, and now he smiled up at me.

"Then, is it okay that I guessed about -"

"You think pink makes me look sluttish?"

Meaning, JC might not be happy with my guesses. "No, no. It's good. Classy. Pink goes very well with your skin tone and chest size." I smacked him; he yelped and ran off, sponge wriggling in sync with the nice Buttocks! Oh, a Buttock with a handprint! No wonder my hand was burning. I had slapped him harder than I intended.

A mix of voices mostly saying something like, "Chris - what...?" met Chris when he sauntered out the garden door. He paused for a few seconds, raising his arms like a ballerina waiting for the crowds to calm and the music to begin, posing determinedly, adjusting the timing....

"Da-daaah!" He swung around with a flourish and made sensuous belly dancer's moves, watch the hips. His arms were snaking sinuously above his head, not exactly effeminately but very catching; the presence of dangerous cobras in them was quite obvious. His dick hung heavy between his thighs.

The only one not laughing was Lance. "That's my sponge," he said and then he hid his face in his hands. "You two idiots," was both muffled and very distinct.

I suffered a pang of remorse. It was but a short-lived pang: my ribs would be sore for days, and it was all Lance's fault.

Chris didn't do remorse. "You want it back?" He was sparkling mischief by the bucket; hands on knees he offered Lance the sponge for the taking.

Lance's "No! Go away!" blended nicely with Joey's howl. Chris wriggled closer. Evidently Lance had no taste at all, he was entirely unable to appreciate the wonder that was wriggling right at him. "Chris! Stop it!"

Justin was sitting next to Lance on the edge of the porch. Hiccuping with laughter, he swatted Chris hard enough to make him jump.

"Ow." Chris rubbed the location of impact.

Justin reached for the tail; Chris swung his pink attachment into safety, and stuck his tongue out at Justin.

Safety from Justin, that was - Joey was quick, his movement was a mere blur. "Got it!" He said and stood brandishing the tail over his head.

"My tail!" Chris raced after Joey out into the yard. "Gimme my tail back!"

Busta barked but stayed where she was - on top of JC's belly and under JC's long fingers patiently petting her. The barking ended in a yawn; it was way past her bedtime.

"JC - I don't get it," said AJ, watching Chris and Joey run and jump around on the lawn, Joey a dark shadow, and Chris like a liquid moon beam, wearing only his pale skin. "How can you say that your gang is saner than mine?"

JC was sitting sideways in the chair next to AJ's. He blinked. "Have I really said that? Really? You sure?"


"Musta been one of those days. Hey - I'd like to take it back, please, can I?"

"You're welcome to it." AJ held out a beer for me.

"Thanks." I popped the can open and sat down in Joey's chair, watching the show on the lawn. The others were talking but the conversation slid right past me. Chris was clinging to Joey's back, trying to scale him. As I watched he got a grip on the sponge. They stumbled to the ground in a tangle, swearing and laughing.

Joey saw his opportunity and got Chris in a headlock. If the ringing smacks of Joey's large hand on Chris butt didn't wake up the neighbors then Chris' screeches would surely do it.

Nice red Butt! Aaah - Joey's nice swing! Slap me! Smack Chris! Nice red me! Nice red Chris Butt! With shivers. And screeches!

Joey only got a few smacks in. Then a red-assed, pale and cussing whirlwind tore itself loose, storming through the garden and into the house. The flying Buttocks!

Joey, still laughing, came back to the porch without the sponge, shaking his hand to cool it.

"That was my favorite sponge," Lance scowled at his beer. "My favorite bowl, my favorite bedspread, my favorite sponge - what's next?"

Bedspread? What did Chris do to Lance's bedspread?

JC tried to sink deeper into the chair.

Alerted by that small defensive move, Lance looked up. "What?"

"Like, uhm, nothing?"

"JC. Give."

"Maybe your almond oil. I mean...." JC was biting his lip.

Lance turned magenta.

Oh - blast! Chris went upstairs without me.

I had just gotten out of the chair when Chris roared, "JC!" loud enough to shake both walls and roof.

I could see only one reason for Chris to be that angry. Chris is hurt!

I was running as fast as I could; the banister gave and noisily threatened breakage when I held on to it, taking the turn at the staircase.

Chris, just a dark deepening of shadow on the otherwise unlit landing, was closing the door to his room. I might have been able to evade collision if Justin hadn't been right at my heels, close enough to slam into me when I braked, wham, and me into Chris, fump, and, with a lot of complicated noise, all of us tumbled in to the floor.

Justin and I certainly made sure that we had reason for coming to Chris' rescue - we shared the top position in the tangle, crushing him beneath more than three hundred pounds of flesh and bone.

"Get off of me, you two dickheads!" Chris was snarling and mean as a grizzly - and had as much patience.

I got a powerful elbow in my already sore ribs; for a moment all I could do was to curl up in pain. There was more shuffling and swearing. "Stop it, Chris!" Justin's voice went into the high registers.

Really, Chris had been okay until we rammed him, just mad as hell. Wonder what JC did? Shit, I hurt. And what's that smell?

There was a fatty sweet smell of cheap perfume in the air. Yuck! Incense? Does incense turn rancid? The mix with the residue of the smoke-out of the evil spirits made me gag. I got into sitting position. Somebody turned the light on and for a moment I was blinded.

"You fucker!" Chris was up and was still grizzly-mean. JC on the stairs was held against the wall, wriggling aimlessly, gored on Chris' stare.

AJ next to JC had to poke his head around Joey to see anything. When he saw that Chris was the only one left standing on the landing, AJ saluted Chris with a lift of an appreciative eyebrow.

JC's eyes were large. "I'm sorry, man. Look, I'm sorry, Chris-"

"Sorry! You're sorry! Fuck! You're a meddling piece of shit, JC. How many times do I need to tell you to fucking stop? What does it take to get some fucking basic respect around here?"

Meddling? Oh, no.

"Chris." Joey lifted a hand.

Chris crashed right through whatever kind of warding Joey was trying to set up. "And the rest of you infantile fuckheads - you could have fucking stopped the meathead but no, no - you're all a frigging bunch of lobotomized teenage girls, a fucked-up girl-band-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Justin asked exasperatedly and got to his feet, apparently unhurt. "What did JC do?"

What is that stink?

"They didn't know," JC said and swallowed. "It was just me."

Chris didn't believe him. "The fuck! Stop covering for them."

Justin, intent on finding an answer to his question, pushed Chris' door open. The fat stink came rolling out in a sticky cloud of poison gas. God, no! The room was brightly lit by candles, masses of them. Perfumed candles? Help!

As I headed for the bathroom across the landing, a heart-shaped red thing on the bedspread registered vaguely on my retina. Right then the top priority was getting to the toilet before the heaving started in earnest.

"Mikkel?" Justin had followed me to the bathroom.

I held on to the toilet seat. "Blow the candles out," I managed to say before my guts contracted again. The candlelit scene of destruction was burned on the inner side of my eyelids, quite easily seen when I closed my eyes. Being in the bathroom was a momentary escape from the unholy altar in a too real horror story.

"The smell of the candles makes him puke," Justin informed somebody outside the bathroom as he left and closed the door behind him. "Better put them out."

Which was fine by me - just let them believe it was only the smell of the candles. Fuck.

Another heave. Fuck, fuck. Damn JC, damnation and curses on JC! I waited a moment, making sure it was safe to move, before I flushed, washed my hands and rinsed my mouth. The cursing of JC was still on repeat in my head while I brushed my teeth with Chris' toothbrush.

Somebody pushed the door open. AJ, appearing in the mirror, slipped in and leaned against the door. "You okay?"

I spat toothpaste into the sink. "Where's Chris?"

"He went downstairs."

By himself, to cool off. Or to spin even faster. Blast.

"Joey went after him but he returned pretty quickly."

Shit, shit, shit.

I rinsed the toothbrush off. On impulse, I took the rest of the toothbrushes and held them under the tap, wetting the bristles. There, let Lance gag on doubt. There were more toothbrushes than usual; I hoped one of them was JC's.

Rub them in soap? Which would be mean towards Joey and Justin, so I chose not to. I rubbed them with a bit of toothpaste instead.

"You guys have a rather tense relation to romance." AJ was watching the proceedings, an amused glitter in his eyes.

I dried my face in the most threadbare towel, assuming it to be Chris'. "Obnoxious, toxic fumes, and a fire hazard left untended - you call that romantic? It's you "romantic" guys who're totally warped inside your heads."

He grinned fleetingly and bobbed his head. "I think JC figured that out."

Chris isn't going to stand for this. "Might be too damn late."

AJ blinked then he stood aside holding the door open for me. As I went past he muttered, "Good luck, man."

With his soothing well wish at my back I went downstairs as quickly as possible, holding my breath until I was well into the living room. Chris was outside on the porch.

"I don't wanna play. Go away!" He was arguing with a small furry fellow with a wagging tail. Growling he picked it up. Hands gentle and friendly and quite at odds with The Frown of the Evil Overlord, he juggled the pup in the air.

I stayed quiet; if I surprised him he might drop the animal.

Or maybe it's because I'm a coward. I watched the flying pup. What to say anyway? It's not like I can change anything if he's made up his mind.

The thought didn't help the pain in my chest but it made breathing easier.

The lordly thundercloud was still juggling Busta, who obviously appreciated the game. Weird little dog, that one. Up and around in another summersault while Chris' scowl stayed firmly in place.

I don't want to try and hold on to him if he wants to leave. Do I? It would be such a petty thing to do. And what do one end up with anyway, if one tries? Nothing. Nothing at all, except a lot of emptiness and a bad taste in the mouth.

Then why am I acting like a coward tiptoeing around him like this?

"What?" He asked, voice full of sharp edges, and eyes on the dog.

At least he's talking. Sort of. "You have about as much sense of humor as my shit ass sister." Which was safe to say because it wasn't really true - my shit ass sister had none at all. Me, the coward, resorting to safe untruths.

"Humor!" He glared at me. Phew! It's a plasma canon, but he's looking at me. There's going to be talking. "Did you see what he did to my room? Did you see it? That was some fucking evil shit."

I nodded agreement and leaned against the door.

"The bastard set up an evil shrine in my bedroom! Did you see the blood puddle on the bed? He's been making blood sacrifices in my fucking bedroom, using my bed as an unholy altar!" He closed his eyes, collecting his frayed nerves. Then he brought Busta up in nuzzle height and buried his nose at her neck.

"You sure it was blood? It looked rather lumpy. More like-"

Pacing, nose deep in the folds of in Busta's neck, he frowned at me as he went past. "I'm sure, man. Probably half-clogged or something. On my bed." He turned, and paced, sniffing calming puppy smell.

I tried to remember what the bed had looked like. I wouldn't have minded some calming smells in my own nose. Smell Chris! "Or like blood with minced fat, like what goes into a blood sausage."

"Yeah?" His attention was on me as he swung about.

I nodded. "Could be. Palle sometimes made blood sausage. I've seen what it looks like." He made sausage out of my favorite little pig. No wonder that sausage was the best he'd ever made.

"Fuck! And JC probably still has the knife! Or scimitar. Shit, it's probably an axe..." He was still pacing.

"And a meat grinder."

"Jesus." Stop. Turn. "You think it was human blood?"

"Could be goat."

He frowned. When his face cleared it was only to fill with fright. "I know it. He's turning his victims into blood sausages! Man, not to put you down or anything - but JC's got you and AJ beat hands down."

"That smell-" I had to stop to quench a gag.

"What? What about it?"

"It was the smell of a whore who's been marinating in the same old cheap perfume for decades. He used her fat for the candles, I'm sure."

Wide eyed, Chris swallowed audibly and nodded. "I think I knew her. Like, now you say it, I know that I recognize the smell."

"Yes? Really? Who?"

"She used to work a corner not far from my old apartment. Name's Susan. On a hot day one could smell her four streets away, and she'd fat enough for a truckload of candles. Man, JC chopped her to pieces and processed her!"

"Poor woman."

He nodded, eyes liquid and soft with genuine sorrow. "She was a good woman."

My heart was aching for her. "It's always the good ones."

"She was the life and sun of the street, always making the rest of us smile. She really should have a decent burial."

"We could bury the bedspread."

"Yeah. Let's take the bedspread and the candles to the undertaker." Chris was all determination and obviously didn't care much about the environment. "But first we're gonna torture JC until he tells us where he put the rest of her."

He wants to torture JC? What a splendid idea. "Right." I followed him inside.

Chris gently slipped Busta onto her cushion, and motioned for me to keep quiet in order not to wake her up. Not ten seconds later, when we walking towards the staircase, he was roaring at the top of his lungs, "JC! You unholy get of-"

At which time I had come to my senses and put a hand over his mouth as we were about to walk up the stairs. "Sssh! The axe, you idiot."

I was fairly sure that "mph," meant "sorry, I'll shut up now" or something to that effect. His breath was warm against the palm of my hand and he gave me a lick as I let go of him.

"Chris-" JC's voice came from behind us. He had been laying in wait behind the kitchen door.

"Whaa!" Chris and I jumped, somehow we managed to turn the opposite ways around, bumping into each other we fell against the front door.

"Grab him! Quarrgh!" Chris probably meant to say "quick" and not "quarrgh", but he was all I had for a launch pad, albeit a springy one, when I pushed off and charged JC.

JC was still blinking fake confusion when I had him pinned against the wall.

"Mikkel-" JC tried to sound innocent and let me hold his wrists without a protest. I had to admire his acting abilities.

"Shut up!" Chris snapped. "If he tries to spell us then squash him, Mikkel."


JC's impossibly blue doe-eyes could have fooled anyone. Ha! But I know better, you evil pervert! He held still; considering the kind of creature he was, it had to take vast amounts of energy, skill and concentration keeping that semi-intelligent, confused expression going.

"What are you two up to?" Joey, concerned, asked from the kitchen. AJ, Lance and Justin were there, too, and they were all jostling for room in the doorway.

Chris was totally focused on JC. "Alright, you devil spawn, where did you put the rest of her?"

"What? Who?"

"Shake him a bit, Mikkel."

I did; JC rattled and gurgled.

"What the fuck are you two nits doing? Mikkel, for Christ's sake." Joey may not have been able to hear the goodness in the sound of rattling and choking demon spawn.

"What did you do to Susan, you fuck?" Chris hissed between clenched teeth; he was as close to JC's face as he could come with me in the way, emitting rays of dark, compulsive powers.

When JC rolled his eyes in artificial exasperation, I added my own comment. "We're not letting you go until you have accounted for every damned bit of her."

JC shook his head. "Susan? Susan who? Damn it, Mikkel, let me go!"

"Are you talking about Fat Sue?" Justin asked.

"Yeah. JC killed her. With an axe."

"I what? Are you completely mad? Let me fucking go." JC squirmed.

"No, no. You're not getting out of this one." I let go of his hands to grab his shirt with one hand and the belt with the other, hoisting him up against the wall and leaning against him so that he couldn't get me with a kick. "You better start talking or we dunk you in holy water."

"With lots of holy ice cubes," Chris gleefully added.

JC growled and glared, looking exactly like what he was.

I growled right back. One thing I was fairly certain of: you never let that kind of breed know when you are scared. "Grrr. Holy ice cubes - down your pants, down your shirt, in your ears and in your hair. Holy ice cubes everywhere! Grrr."

"All over your belly and in your navel!" Chris added, his ear tips had reddened at the prospect; he grinned when JC shivered and whimpered. Ice? Ice! Chris likes ice! In the nice navel! "Balls on ice, JC, lots of goddam cold ice around your little, pink raisins."

"Balls on ice," was about the worst scenario I could imagine for my own private parts. Chris' Balls on ice! Nice little Balls, so little and all wrinkly and cute! I spoke menacing into JC's face: "Where did you hide her?"

"That's enough." Joey appeared next to me on the opposite side of Chris and put a hand on my shoulder. "You can let him down."

"Joey - he made Fat Sue into candles and sausage!" Chris argued. "We can't just let him go, that would be frigging irresponsible. He melted the fat right off her bones!"

"Shit, JC - where did you find the pot for that?" Justin asked. "Susan's a mountain."

JC blinked. "Really? I did?" He was obviously rather impressed with himself.

"Yeah. You did," Chris said to him. "Now stop that! Mikkel, don't let him-"

I tightened my grip. "Then go get the holy ice cubes, man." The spell of the blue eyes was getting to me; we didn't have much time.

JC turned the spell power up a bit: "Uhm. Sorry? I mean, I kinda liked Fat Sue."

"Chris!" I appealed.

"Close your eyes, dude. Hold on. JC - where's the rest of her? We gotta take all the parts to the undertaker."

"I don't know, actually. Like, I can't remember."

"The axe?"

JC frowned. I closed my eyes in a hurry. His voice was pensive, giving away the puzzled expression. "Did you check my car?"

"Ice cubes, holy ice cubes, your balls jingling in absolute zero - where? Damn it, Mikkel!"

"I'm trying!" Truth was I couldn't hold JC for much longer, he was getting really heavy really quickly.

"I'm going crazy really slowly." The staircase creaked as Joey sat down, he yawned audibly before continuing. "Wake me up when I scream, please."

JC caught the infection from Joey and yawned too. He suddenly got a lot lighter. He's going to fly away! I was relieved to find that he merely had slid down and was supporting himself.

"Thank you." He patted my shoulder and left his hand there as an afterthought. "Chris, I think, like, maybe I left the axe under your bed. I could've."

"Well, lets check. Don't let go of him, Mikkel. I go first."

"I'm not going into that stink." I was determined.

"Come on." Chris acknowledged my delicate senses with a roll of his eyes.

"You probably want me to sleep in it too." I knew I was wining but I really couldn't help it.

"We can sleep in Joey's room."

Joey's eyes opened. "You can what in my room?"

"Trust me - you don't want the details." Chris marched past Joey. JC and I followed him.

I want the details!

Joey was confused. "Since when don't I want the details in great detail?"

JC's hand in mine was sweaty. I gave it a squeeze and he squeezed back. We're okay, I think. Maybe he heard my thought: he sent me a tentative smile.

"Saner than my guys? Saner than - my ass!" AJ muttered behind us, and JC's smile deepened.


End of Chapter

© Morgenfryd 2003