"How domestic."

"Isn't it? It's also the last time I let Skids eat ice cream in bed."

''Is he a messy eater?"

"Not really, he just got creative with it."

"All by himself?"

"Okay, *we* got creative. But it was his idea. What is that, Apollo?"

"Your mail."

Tybalt dumped the sheets, pillow cases, mattress cover, comforter cover, towels and pajamas into the laundry basket and took the package Apollo held out. He glanced at the return address and then ripped it open. It was a coffee table book of fine art black and white photography. When Tybalt opened the cover, a piece of paper fluttered out. He crouched to retrieve it and rose very slowly as he read it. It was a model release form, one he had signed in college when a fellow fine arts major, Lars Williams, whose book he was clutching, took photos of him. Inside the book there was another release, dated a few weeks before the first one. Tybalt riffled the pages, but there were no other loose papers. He was not really surprised by that; the two model releases and the book were message enough.

"Shit."

"Bad news?"

"Possibly. Here, see if you can find me in here while I put these in the washer.' He came back to find Apollo sitting on the couch, blushing. "Let me guess, you found the pictures of me and Rasputin having sex. Beautifully lit, absolutely candid and completely pornographic."

"That about sums it up, yes. Mik's put on a few pounds, hasn't he?"

"Hm."

"Tybalt, what were you two thinking?"

"We were fairly drunk and it seemed like a good idea at the time." Tybalt sat next to him and thumbed through the section titled 'Lovers'. "What a voyeur, half the people I knew in college are in here doing it with someone or something. I'm surprised Lars didn't blackmail Rasputin when he came into his money."

"I'm surprised Lars hasn't been murdered by now. How do you know he didn't blackmail Rasputin and just publish the pictures anyway?"

"Good point, Apollo, I've no idea. Did you find the other ones of me?"

"No, but I paged through it fairly fast."

Tybalt looked at the table of contents and then turned to the 'Fashion' section. "Here," he held out a page to Apollo. "Recognize the profile?"

"Now I do. Sorry, Tybalt, it was the evening gown and the big hair that confused me."

"My my, he put three of these shots in here. I'd be flattered if I wasn't so horrified."

"I think no one will recognize you, but can I ask..."

"What was I thinking? Well, I was being nice. That'll learn me. Lars desperately needed to finish a fashion photography project and didn't have the time or money to hire a model. That's where the being nice part came in. I even cooked dinner for him and his helpers, Rasputin among them, while he developed the film. Then I helped him pick out the best ones, these three were among that lot."

"Was this before or after you...?"

"Before, a few weeks before he lured Rasputin and I into his lair and got us drunk, which was never terribly difficult in those days. God, what idiots we were. We thought we were having fun." Tybalt paged back to a shot of himself going down on Rasputin. "See? We're having a whale of a time!"

Apollo nodded grimly. "Didn't you try to get the negatives?"

"No. Mik and I broke up shortly after that and I had other things on my mind. And then Lars transferred to another school and I just sort of forgot about it." Tybalt shrugged.

"What are you going to do?"

"What can I do? This is a very expensive, beautifully produced art book by a publisher I'd kill to have do a book of my work. No wonder Lars put everything he had in here. At least my name isn't anywhere in it, we're identified as 'Couple Number 3'."

"Aren't you worried about who'll see this?" Apollo asked as he picked up the stack of mail and flipped through it.

"Not really, it's a $300 book, not many people I know are going to be able to afford one," Tybalt said, paging through it and trying to curb his envy. "Aside from a few wealthy voyeurs and you, who will ever see it?"

"Hm," Apollo said. "Yes, well, a few wealthy voyeurs and whoever goes to the 'Lars Williams - Photographs: Then and Now' show at Pola Solaty, that's all who'll see it." He held out a big, glossy postcard from the best gallery in town to Tybalt.

Tybalt turned the card over a few times, as if hoping the print would change to something different if he held it a different way. "I think I'm going to be sick," he said at last.

"Put your head between your legs and breathe through your nose." Apollo patted him sympathetically on the back. "Now what are you going to do?"

"Other than tell Skids about it, I've no idea." Tybalt got up and emailed his lover, who was not online for once, to call him.

"What are you and Skids doing tonight?" Apollo asked.

"Nothing. He has a rehearsal with whatzit..."

"Boy Band."

"Yeah, and might come over later, but no solid plans."

"I have baseball tickets."

"Oh? How many?"

"Four."

"Well, I don't think Skids has the attention span for baseball, but I'll go with you if you can stand to be seen with one half of Couple Number 3. Oh, there's Skids." Tybalt went to pick up the phone and spoke briefly into it. "I'm invited to luncheon."

"He'll probably give you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

"But it will be a magnificent peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

"Tybalt, you are so messed up over this guy," Apollo said and listened to Tybalt's happy laugh. "Take care he doesn't get creative with the sandwich fixings."

On the way to Skids' dorm, all the lights turned green for Tybalt and he hoped that was a lucky sign.

"I'm glad you could come over, I was missing you." Skids hugged him and pulled the fastener out of his hair. He moved in for a kiss but Tybalt forestalled him.

"I need to talk to you first," Tybalt said, thinking it would be easier to make a dignified exit if he didn't have to put his clothes on in a rush. On the other hand, if Skids broke up with him after he saw the pictures, he ought to get laid one last time before he showed them to him. Nah. "Skids, when I was in college, I did some things that, well, I wouldn't do today. And there were some photos of me and Rasputin that were taken when we were, um, not thinking very clearly and I never thought they would be in a book or in a show at the Pola Soltay gallery but there you have it." He held out the book and braced for whatever was going to happen, watched Skids paging through it. He lowered his eyes when Skids stopped on a particular page.

"I like your hair like this," Skids said, examining the drag fashion picture. "It's so pretty. It's pretty when it's down, too," he added, reaching over to stroke Tybalt's long red hair.

"Keep going, Skids."

"Oh!" Skids was glued to the pages of Couple Number 3.

Tybalt willed himself to wait for the rest of the reaction; whatever it was, he could take it.

"Oh wow! These are great!" Skids put his arm around Tybalt and pulled him close. "You look so beautiful," he said pointing at a photo. "And so happy. Mik's put on some weight, hasn't he? But you look just the same." He leaned over and kissed Tybalt, who was trying to say something.

"Skids! Aren't you angry? Horrified? Disgusted? Jealous? Or something?"

"No. Why would I be? These are from long ago, before I knew you. I just think you look as beautiful like you always do." He pulled Tybalt close and nuzzled his neck. "And you're not going to do it again, are you?"

"Absolutely not! I can hardly believe I did it in the first place," Tybalt said, relaxing a little. "Is this really okay with you? I didn't know what you'd think of all this." He waved at the still open pages.

"Tybalt, do you know what I think?" Skids asked, deadly serious. "I think we should do this page."

Tybalt looked at what Skids was pointing to. "Oh, I think we can start with that page." He leaned in for a long, sweet kiss.

They'd become fairly expert at getting each other out of their clothes and were soon wrestling around naked. This was also part of their lovemaking since they enjoyed it and it also gave them a chance to establish who was going to top. Skids sent a subtle message that he wanted to be passive and Tybalt jumped on that signal, pinned him and kissed him passionately. Since Skids had gotten in touch with his inner top, Tybalt wasn't topping as much as he was used to and took every opportunity that was offered.

Tybalt was soon between Skids' legs driving him crazy with all the tricks he'd ever learned. The stamina of youth was no match for Tybalt's technique and he didn't last long under the force his lover's attention. Tybalt swallowed and dragged his tongue up Skid's panting body and kissed him hard. "Where's the lube?" Tybalt asked, impatiently tossing the pillow it was usually under off the bed. He'd found only condoms so far.

"Up there." Skids nodded at the low table at the head of the bed. "Next to my pets."

Tybalt glanced at the tarantulas in their terrarium, he was getting used to seeing them by Skids' bed, and opened the lube one-handed. Quickly but carefully he got Skids, who was busy mauling his long red hair, ready for him. "You're awfully energetic all of the sudden," Tybalt said, rolling on a condom and rolling on his back. "I think you need to work some of that off," he added, maneuvering a very eager Skids over his erection. "Slowly, Skids, make it last," he sighed as Skids eased onto him. Lost in pleasure, they surrendered to their joining and watched each other go ever higher and ever closer to climax. For two guys that liked to talk as much as Skids and Tybalt did, they were surprisingly silent during sex, just a quiet moan or sigh here and there, even as Tybalt thrust up to meet Skids' downward motion, he only managed a low growl as he came. Still having some presence of mind, he caressed Skids to climax and held him close in the shattering aftermath. "Ah, Skids, this is so much better than anything before," he soothed his lover.

Skids lifted his head to look Tybalt in the eye. "Even Couple Number 3?"

"Oh, much, much better than that." Tybalt smiled and unsuccessfully brushed the hair out of Skids' eyes.

"Good!" Skids removed himself from Tybalt, who went into the bathroom and tried to put his hair in order.

Using one of the hairbrushes he kept at Skids' place, Tybalt sat on the edge of the bed. "I hope you don't mind if I don't linger, precious, but I wasn't expecting to see you this afternoon and I need to work in the studio for a few hours.

Skids sat up and took the hairbrush and applied it to Tybalt's long red hair that he loved so much. "No, I don't mind. Harley's coming over before the rehearsal to hang out for a while."

Tybalt leaned toward Skids and took a long sniff. "Then I suggest you take a shower before he gets here."

"Take one with me!"

Tybalt glanced at the clock and then at Skids' hand gliding into his lap and decided, yes, he had time for a shower.

Not that he noticed, but Tybalt never did get any lunch that day. And it wasn't until he got home that he realized he'd left Lars' book in Skids' room. Oh well, he'd get it later or have Skids bring it next time he came over.

Tybalt was folding laundry when Apollo found him and said he should probably call Rasputin before they left for the game. "Why?"

"Well, he just left an angry message that he has the Lars Williams' book and wants to know why Harley found it in Skids' dorm room and brought it home."

"Oh, like that's my fault!"

"I'm just the messenger, Tybalt."

"Alright," Tybalt sighed. He stacked the neatly folded sheets, pillow cases, mattress cover, comforter cover, towels and pajamas into the laundry basket and went in the house to call Rasputin. "Did he leave a number?" Apollo paged through the phone book until he found it for Tybalt. "Thank you. Don't leave me alone with this, Apollo, I might need moral support," he said, turning his attention back to the phone. "I'm returning your call, Mikhael... Why is Harley upset? Those pictures are years old. It's not like we shot them last week. Or that we're going to have a reshoot, God forbid. If he's upset it should be about how good you looked then vs. how you look now... He's upset that I'm in them with you? Would he rather have Fido the dog with you? No, I not kidding. Mikhael, there is nothing either of us can do about that book, just as there is nothing either of us can do about the past except get over it. I'm so glad you agree with me... Yes, I'm okay with it, too... Yes, and so is Skids, so I don't see why Harley... Yeah, that's why the book was there... What? I was showing the book to Skids, explaining why and how those pictures happened and why they're now in an overpriced coffee table art book and I forgot it when I left... I was *distracted* and I forgot it, Mik, do you mind? What was that, Mik, I couldn't hear you over the blaring guitars... Oh, that's better... There is something you should know, though." Tybalt told him about the upcoming show at the Pola Soltay gallery and then had to hold the phone away from his ear while Mik screamed at him. He rolled his eyes at Apollo, who waved the extra tickets at him. "Mik... Mik... Mik! It's not my fault that a voyeur and creep like Lars can get a show at Pola Soltay and we can't. It's just the way things are in this weird, cruel world so calm the fuck down! Oh, by the way, do you want to go to a baseball game with me and Apollo tonight? We can commiserate about the degraded state of the art world. It'd probably be more fun for you than listening to Boy Thing rehearse. Good. And bring my book with you." Tybalt hung up and rubbed his ear. "I think I'm deafened and he's on his way." He found Apollo smiling at him.

"Tybalt, sometimes you are magnificent."

Tybalt patted his friend's arm. "That's what Skids thinks, too."

***end***

~ Tybalt in Love ~

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