Leavin’ on a Jet Plane
by Bix

Part One


      Greg Proops stood on the concrete steps to Anthony
Deklan Slattery's flat, his lower lip trembling and his
delicate, pale hands shaking by his sides.  He had a black
garment bag laid over two wheeled suitcases behind him,
and he kept his back to the door as he looked up and down
the deserted, silent street.  No one had yet emerged on that
Sunday morning, and as Greg drew in one shaky breath
after another, he found himself incredibly grateful for that.
He didn't want to be recognized and approached.  Not
today.
      Several minutes had elapsed since he'd knocked and
rang the bell, but he knew Tony's morning habits.  It took
the man a while to get orientated and to answer anything--
the phone, the door, whatever-- so he stood there patiently
and tried to compose himself.
      Despite the peace of the empty street, lined with
parked cars and covered with a light mist of rain, everything
seemed to flood back onto Greg and threaten that quiet
solitude.  He hardly felt the slight drizzle that beaded his
glasses and lay a shiny gray coat over his possessions, nor
did he notice the slight cut on his left hand, which dripped a
thin layer of blood over one finger.  He'd sliced open the
skin opening the small gate to Tony's place, but the physical
pain could not register.  He wandered in too much of an
emotional haze for that.  He didn't even think to smoke a
cigarette as he waited.
      They're kicking me out.  Greg's mind seemed
caught in a loop as those words and the accompanying
thoughts echoed through his brain.  They're kicking me out
of England, I have to leave tomorrow, they don't want me
here, I have to leave now, Tony, they're kicking me out...
      Greg understood the full implications of his forced
departure from England.  Two weeks earlier, he'd been
busted by the London police for drug possession when a
cop searched him after a pub altercation and found a bag of
reefer in his coat pocket.  The irony of the situation lay in
the fact that he never found English pot to his liking,
anyway-- it had too many seeds and they just didn't know
how to grow it right-- plus only three months before that,
he'd been driving L.A. with coke in his car and didn't get
bothered once.  Rather than put the high-profile comedian in
jail, the decision came down from the head office to revoke
his visa.  Somehow the story stayed out of the newspapers.
Greg viewed those two events as nothing short of a miracle,
and agreed to leave the country peacefully.
      He only had one emotional dilemma.  Leaving the
country meant leaving Tony.
      Greg turned as he heard the latch click and the door
swung open.  He turned and bit his lip, crossing his arms
over his chest, as Tony's sleep-rumpled head came into
view.
      "Hullo, Greg," Tony mumbled.  He stood in the
doorway for a second, blinking in tired confusion, then
motioned him inside.  He took a few shuffling steps
backwards, the belt of his terrycloth robe swinging to one
side and his slippers scuffling against the carpet runner by
the door.
      Greg made two trips down the short flight of steps
before he got his bags into the flat, then shut the door
behind him.  He and Tony stared at one another for the
longest time.
      "What is it?" Tony finally asked.  He shook his head
to try and pull himself out of his sleepy demeanor.
"Something's wrong."
      Greg opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly all
his self-control disappeared and he broke down sobbing.
He pulled off his glasses and dropped them to the carpeting
as he covered his eyes, his breath hitching as tears rolled
down his smooth cheeks.  Tony, shocked by the sudden
outburst, stepped forward and took Greg into his arms.
      "It's all right, it's all right," he crooned over the
taller man's shoulder.  Tony brought one hand up and
stroked the back of Greg's head, holding him close.  "Don't
cry.  Whatever it is, we'll fix it."
      "You can't," Greg wept.  He coughed and wiped
at his face with his free hand as he embraced Tony with the
other, drawing in a long, deep breath.  He inhaled Tony's
warm smell and found comfort and strength in it.  "I have to
leave the country," he explained.  "They caught me with
some pot, the judge said he wouldn't put me in jail if I leave
by tomorrow, but Tony, I... I--"
      "Shhhh," Tony hushed him.  He pulled back a bit to
look at Greg, then reached up to stroke his face and wipe
away the tears.  "It's all right," he repeated.  He cupped
Greg's face in his hands and put a gentle kiss onto his soft
lips.  "Please don't cry."
      "I don't want to leave you behind," Greg said in a
shaky voice.
      Tony sighed.  "You knew that you'd have to, sooner
or later," he replied in a soft voice.  "You're married.  You
have a wife now, and a home in America.  I don't fit into
your life any more."
      Two more tears slipped from between Greg's closed
eyes.  "I still love you."
      "And I love you," Tony responded in a soothing
tone.
      Greg's eyes opened, and he stared at him with an
statement akin to anger.  "Don't hand me that sympathetic
`I love you' bullshit," he spat.  "If you really did love me,
we'd have spent a hell of a lot more time together.  You
don't want me in your life.  You never have."
      This time, Tony closed his eyes.  "Greg, I've told
you time and again about the kind of person I am.  I can't
form a close bond with anyone.  It's just not in me to have
that kind of commitment."  He opened his eyes again and
swallowed.  "But I do care for you, Greg.  Don't ever be
mistaken about that."
      The fierceness in Greg's gaze faded to one of tired
confusion.  "I'm sorry," he said in a husky tone.  "It's
just--"  His shoulders drooped in resignation.  "Hell,
nothing's gone the way I've wanted it to on this trip.  All I
know right now is that I want to spend my last day here,
with you."
      Tony nodded.  "Of course, darling.  I've got no
objections to that."  He pressed his lips together and raised
his eyebrows, then clapped his hands together.  "All right,
then.  Let's take you upstairs, get you out of those wet
clothes, and make this one hell of a party, shall we?"
      "Sounds like a plan," Greg responded with a tired
laugh.
      "Oh, dear."  Tony picked up Greg's injured hand,
wincing at the sight of blood.  "How did this happen?"
      "I... I don't know.  I don't remember."  He pressed
his other hand against the open wound, his face betraying
his disorientated state.  "I don't remember," he repeated.
      "That's all right.  We'll have that fixed up in no
time," Tony said as he patted Greg's hand.  "Not to worry.
Go on, now."
      Greg nodded and headed up the narrow flight of
stairs to the bathroom while Tony slipped into the living
room and made a few quick phone calls.  He left a couple of
messages and canceled his plans for lunch with his agent,
dinner reservations at a restaurant, and his dinner date for
the evening who (thank goodness!) happened to be a friend
rather than a lover.  If it had been anyone besides a friend,
he would've had some heavy-handed explaining to do to
preserve that relationship.
      Finished with the phone calls, Tony set the phone
back in its cradle and sighed.  The activity he'd heard
upstairs as he made his calls-- water running, the opening
and closing of doors, the flushing toilet, the patter of feet--
had ceased by this time.  He went over to the liquor cabinet
and pulled out two bottles and two glasses, then cradled
them in his arms and hurried up the stairs.
      "Greg?" he called as he reached the top of the stairs.
      "In here."  Greg's voice echoed down the hall from
the second bedroom. 
      Tony shook his head and walked in that direction.
"Greg, you know that you don't have to use the guest
room," he said as he pushed at the half-open door.  He
entered the room and set the bottles and glasses down on
the nightstand.  Greg lay covered up on the full-sized bed
with his back to the door, his bandaged hand on his left hip
and his face turned into the pillow.  Tony clucked his
tongue and sat beside him, then rubbed his back.  "Poor
boy," he mumbled.  "Why don't you come into my room?
Or... isn't that what you had in mind for today?"
      "It's exactly what I had in mind for today," Greg
replied.  He rolled over and took Tony's hands in his, then
stared up at him with tear-filled eyes.  "But can't we stay in
here?  I don't know.  I guess I just don't want to be in a bed
where you bring everyone else."  He hesitated.  "I want
today to be special."
      Tony ran his fingers through Greg's curly hair.
"Whatever you like, my love.  And it will be special."
      Greg pulled the covers back to reveal his handsome nude body
and Tony slipped in between the sheets beside him, shedding his robe
as he did so.  The two men spooned with Greg securely nestled in
Tony's arms, and after a few gentle kisses and some light, loving
touches, both men slipped into a solid bank of sleep.

Part Two


        Greg Proops awoke to the feel of Tony's breath on the back of
his neck.  He blinked away the sleep in his eyes and stared blindly
ahead at the closed window, covered by sheer curtains, as he tried
not to think about anything.  He only wanted to enjoy the secure
comfort of Tony's arms around him and the touch of their bodies
pressed together. 
      He realized, with a certain amount of relief, that he had his
wits together again-- a welcome return after the blur of emotional
confusion that had plagued him since the arrest.  Sure, he had
continued to go on stage and perform as if nothing had happened, but
all the same, he'd felt his sanity slipping.  The comedy hadn't been
enjoyable for the past few weeks; instead, it became habit and
repetition.  He hoped that he could go back to enjoying his life soon.
      Tony Slattery shifted behind him and let out a groan of
protest as he awoke.
      Greg patted the soft hand that curled over his stomach.  "Hi,
Tony."
      "You're up," Tony mumbled into Greg's hair as he hugged him
closer.
      "So are you," Greg replied with a gentle smile.  He pushed
backwards until his buttocks pressed firmly against Tony's hips, and
Tony's semi-erect penis slipped comfortably between his cheeks.  Greg
shifted his body back and forth a few times, relishing in the feel of
the other man's pubic hairs against his ass.
      Tony chuckled.  "Well, aren't we getting started a bit early?"
      "Early?"  Greg let out a snort of laughter.  "It's two
o'clock, you git."
      "Two?"
      Tony looked over Greg's shoulder and let his gaze fall upon
the small alarm clock on the bureau, then rubbed his eyes as he tried
to make out the time.  His eyebrows popped up in surprise and he let
out a puff of air from between his lips.
      "Dear God, we've been asleep for ages!" he exclaimed.
      Greg nodded.  "Six hours, almost."
      "I didn't stir once."
      "Me, neither."  Greg sighed as Tony settled back onto the
pillow with him.  "Oh, this is nice."
      "It is, isn't it?" Tony replied.  He shifted his position
again, and Greg shivered with delight.  "So, tell me.  What are your
plans now?  What are you going to do?"
      Greg's smile of contentment faded.  "Tony, I don't want to
talk about it now."
      "Since you're leaving tomorrow," Tony said in a quiet voice,
"I think it's best for us to discuss it."  He paused.  "Now, tell
me.  What's happened and what have you got planned?  Now, you said
that you were caught with some marijuana..."
      He sighed.  "Yea.  I was out on the town two weeks ago.  You
know how I like to go on pub crawls.  Well, there were five of us
that night, and they were buying some pills from a friend of theirs
earlier in the evening.  But you know me, I'm not big on pills.  So I
bought some weed off the guy.  Figured that when we got back to the
hotel, I'd be able to kick back with a joint."
      Tony's hand began to move across Greg's sensitive chest.  His
fingertips caressed the smooth skin and erect nipples at a slow,
torturous pace, which distracted Greg from his story for a moment.
      "I..."  Greg swallowed to get his control back.  "I got in
the middle of a fight between one of the guys and someone at the
pub.  I was trying to break it up, but the police came in and thought
I was part of it, so they arrested me, searched me, and came up with
the stuff.  I suppose the whole celebrity thing's paying off now,
because instead of going to prison, they're temporarily revoking my
visa and sending me back to the States."
      "Poor baby," he mumbled into Greg's ear.  He gave him a
gentle kiss on the neck, which made Greg bite down on his bottom
lip.  Tony multiplied the kisses as hand roamed roam farther south,
along the fuzzy line of hair that ran down his stomach, and Greg's
breath started to come in short gasps.
      Before he could ask Tony to do it, Greg felt Tony's hand slip
between his legs and massage the inside of his thighs.  A minute
later, the hand came up and cupped his genitals in a firm yet gentle
grip.  Tony squeezed them ever so slightly, then let up and rubbed
his palm over the other man's groin area, teasing his swelling penis
with an occasional flick of his little finger.
      "Ohhh," Greg moaned.
      "You are desperate for a good fuck, aren't you?" Tony asked
as he pushed himself even closer to Greg.  He drew his tongue along
the edge of Greg's ear as his fully-erect penis massaged Greg's
testicles from behind.
      Unable to restrain himself, Greg reached down and grabbed his
own dick with his left hand.  The bandage that covered his injured
hand only added another sensation of pleasure as he rubbed the gauze
up and down his thick shaft.  Tony used the opportunity to explore
Greg's testicles from the front with his hand while he continued to
rub his dick against them from the back, sending Greg into spasms of
ecstasy.
      "Well, the good stuff will come later this evening, my dear,"
Tony teased him.  "In the meantime, why don't you make yourself
happy?  You know how that turns me on."
      Greg didn't need any prompting in that department.  He had
already curled his hand in a stranglehold grip around his dick, and
started to pump up and down the seven-inch shaft with a steady
rhythm.  He squeezed his eyes shut as the blood swelled to his organ
in record time, and a thin coat of seminal fluid squeezed out from
the tip.  He paused long enough to dab his thumb against the moist
tip and rub the liquid around.  The feel of his thumb as it massaged
his delicate head brought a series of moans from his lips as he
shifted his grip and went back to masturbating.
      With a long sigh of delight, Tony reached both hands around
Greg's waist and grasped his hips.  He felt the tremors of pleasure
and effort as he pressed his palms against Greg's body, and closed
his own eyes, lost in the feeling.  His own body seemed to freeze as
Greg's efforts picked up steam, and he licked at Greg's sweaty back
as his cock throbbed with anticipation.  His thighs moved together
and apart in tiny contractions, squeezing his dick against Greg's
testicles and between his own legs in a warm, delightful cave of
pumping flesh.
      Greg could feel himself coming, and coming hard.  The thrusts
of his hand sped up to an almost frenetic pace as he pushed back the
covers to watch his own activity.  He could just make out the head of
Tony's penis from beneath his wrist, as the shiny head poked out from
between his thighs.  The tempting peek at his lover's organ urged him
on, and he grimaced with effort, tangled in the pleasure/pain that
came about from the heel of his hand as it crashed against his skin. 
The rapid slapping sound raised in him a desperate urge to finish,
and he could feel himself ready to go, yet something in him hung
back...
      A splash of warm whiteness erupted from between Greg's legs
as Tony released his seed against him, and the sight and feel of the
love-juice as it ran over his thigh brought Greg to his own dizzying
orgasm.  He ejaculated over the mattress and onto the floor as a
seemingly endless supply of semen erupted from his throbbing cock. 
Finally, after a few last pulls, he let out a large whooping breath
of air and dropped back down into the pillow.
      Tony's breath still burned on the back of his neck, now at a
much faster pace than before, but it quickly retreated to a warm,
comfortable breeze as he recovered from the experience.
      "That was fantastic, love," Tony whispered in Greg's ear.
      "Fuck."  Greg released the word as one long exhale of breath,
then wiped his right hand over his forehead as he drew his damp left
hand back and forth across the bedsheet.  He tried to say more, but
he couldn't catch his breath.  Tony chuckled.
      "Don't tell me I've worn you out already," he said as he
gently nibbled at Greg's neck again.  "The night hasn't even begun."
      Greg smiled.  He wanted to respond, but he could already feel
himself slipping into a post-orgasmic doze, an oblivion that he
welcomed without argument.  The smile dissolved from his face as the
blackness closed in, and he dozed off with the feeling of Tony's
tender kisses against his shoulder.

Part Three
 
 
 “You’ve heard that the show may be ending, of course?”
 Greg stopped chewing the toast in his mouth, and lowered his 

hand back down to the plate in front of him. The bread dropped from 

his hand and landed in the half-devoured yoke of his eggs, then 

tumbled onto the kitchen table and left a smear of yellow against 

its wooden surface.
 “What?” he coughed out.
 Tony reached over and wiped up the mess with a napkin, then 

shoveled another forkful of food into his mouth. He shifted restlessly
in his chair as he balled the napkin up and set it, then re-tied his 

robe around his waist.
 “Oh, not in so many words, of course,” Tony said. “But I was 

speaking with Ronnie the other day...”
 Greg couldn’t help but feel the hairs on the back of his neck 

bristle up in protest. “Ronnie” happened to be yet another love in Tony’s
life-- a rather unattractive woman named Rhonda who had her finger on 

the pulse of Channel Four. She knew everything that went on at the 

television station but because of her demanding nature, Greg had never
gotten along with her at all. Tony once confessed that sex with her 

rated along the lines of bestiality and that he’d never found 

satisfaction in it, yet he kept sleeping with her.
 “...and she said,” he continued, oblivious to the disgust on 

Greg’s face, “that Dan Patterson was looking to move it to America. Of
course, everyone knows that he’s been trying for the past two years to 

make that happen, but now!” Tony swallowed the last of his food and 

broke out a quick, triumphant laugh. “Now he’s got leverage. It seems 

that Ryan Stiles is going to help make it happen.”
 “Ryan?” Greg sat with his hands in his lap, stunned. He rubbed 

one hand against his t-shirt. “What can he do?”
 “Well, the word is--” Tony leaned forward with a mischievous 

grin, now in full gossip mode. “Ryan has talked with Drew Carey about
‘Whose Line is it, Anyway?’. Apparently they’re making a shitload of 

money off ‘The Drew Carey Show,’ and they’re both willing to chime in as 

executive producers for the American Broadcasting Corporation. Since 

the budget for the show is so miniscule, ABC has apparently agreed to 
the standard thirteen-episode deal.”
 “Wow!”
 Tony’s smile dropped. “I’ve heard there will be a few changes, 

however.”
 Greg crossed his arms. “Of course. Lay it on me.”
 “Clive, for one. Word is that he’ll be dropped in favor of an 

American host. Perhaps some MTV personality, by what I’ve heard.”
 “Oh, poor Clive!” Greg reached over for the cigarettes lying 

next to his coffee mug. He tapped out a cigarette, stuck it between his
lips, then lit up and leaned back in his chair. “He’s been in this show 

from the beginning, since it was on the radio. How can they do that?”
 “The almighty American dollar. Why else?”
 Greg blew out a trail of smoke. “What else in store?”
 “Ah, changes with the set. I hear that it’s going to be a bit 

more elaborate than the spartan setting we’ve been working in. The 

audience should be larger. Oh, and they’ll be retiring some of the more 

ridiculous games, like ‘March.’ Thank God,” he added.
 “Huh. So maybe this all works out for the best. I get kicked 

out of England, and the show comes West with me. So long as they keep 
me on board, that is. Then I guess things will be all right.”
 “Not as bad as you thought, eh?”
 Greg shook his head. “Tony, the biggest problem is that nothing 

lasts long on American television. It’s a killing field for genuine
talent. If the show makes it through a full season, I’ll be genuinely 

fucking surprised.” He sighed and took another drag on the cigarette. 

 “And what about Clive? How is he taking it?”
 “Don’t think anyone dares to tell him, quite frankly,” Tony 

replied.
 “Ryan ought to be sticking up for him,” Greg hissed. “Shit, he 

fought tooth and nail to get Colin on the show. If he’s going to be a
producer now, why the fuck doesn’t he say something?”
 “Perhaps he has,” Tony pointed out. “But we’re talking about 

your television stations, Greg. They don’t want an English host in
prime time any more than we’d want an American host mucking up our 

airwaves.”
 “Oh, man. Speaking of which, what about all you guys? Josie, 

Steve Frost...”
 “Left behind in the shuffle, as I see it.” Tony pulled a 

cigarette out of the pack and lit up himself. “It’s been fine for you. 

You come over here and tour with your stand-up act, film a handful of 

shows and leave. Ryan, Colin, Mike and the others have to come here 

just for tapings. And combined with his back troubles and his fear 

of flying, poor Ryan’s a wreck from it.” He tapped his ashes into an
ashtray on the corner of the table. “I don’t know about the others but 

I, for one, have enough problems without making such a long journey. 

Flying halfway ‘round the world doesn’t appeal to me at all, Greg. 

Least of all just for improv.”
 Greg sighed. He wanted to say more, but couldn’t think of 

anything. The two men finished their meal in silence and cleaned up 

the kitchen table, then headed into the den. Greg dropped into the 

chair by the window and pulled aside the curtain, while Tony made 
himself comfortable on the sofa. The rain had not let up in the past 
hour or so, and it continued as a steady downpour that flooded the
street with several inches of water.
 “Lousy weather,” he mumbled.
 “’Oh, to be in England,’” Tony quoted with a wry smile. “Damn, 
but you do look adorable today.”
 “Adorable? Adorable is for teddy bears and little kitties.” 
Greg let the drapery slip from his fingers. He turned towards Tony 
with a lustful look in his eyes. “I was kind of hoping for sexy.”
 “Well, ‘sexy’ is a title that has to be earned, darling.”
 “Oh? And just how does one earn it?”
 “I can think of several ways.”
 “Oooh, I’ll bet you can.”
 Greg went over and joined Tony on the sofa. The two men sat with
their arms around each other and snuggled closer, exchanging little
kisses against their faces and necks while their hands ran up and down 
each other’s bodies. Tony stripped off Greg’s t-shirt and underwear, 
tossing them across the room in a grand gesture. Smiling, Greg found the
knot in Tony’s terrycloth robe and undid it, then pushed back the robe 
to reveal his nude body. He gently pushed Tony back onto the cushions
and lay on top of him, his stomach lying against Tony’s flaccid penis.
 “I love your body,” Greg breathed between kisses. He ran his 
hand up and down Tony’s pale, soft chest and stomach, which felt cool
and inviting to his touch, and flicked his tongue over his pink nipples. 
“You smell so good.”
 Tony pressed Greg’s head to his face, and breathed in the scent 
of his hair. “You, too.”
 Tony spread his legs apart and set one foot on the floor, then 
balanced the other one on top of the sofa. He wrapped his arms around
Greg’s shoulders and drew him closer. His hands went lower, until he 
had a firm grip on Greg’s muscular buttocks, and they began to move 
their hips as their genitals made solid contact with one another. 
Blood pumped to their organs and after only a couple of minutes of 
such close contact, both men had achieved a solid erection.
 “Go inside me,” Tony moaned with pleasure. “I want you inside 
me.”
 “We don’t have anything,” Greg panted. “And I don’t want to 
hurt you.”
 Tony managed a weak smile and fumbled under the sofa with one 
hand, then came up with a tube of gel and a wrapped condom. “Here,”
he said as he handed it over.
 Greg accepted the condom and gel from Tony and stared at them 
for a moment. He knew that Tony kept every kind of sexual aid 
imaginable around the house, from condoms to anal vibrators, but he 
had no idea that the man would’ve made sure to plant such devices in 
case of an unexpected sexual encounter. He wanted to be angry with 
him, or at least disgusted by Tony’s promiscuity, but his own body 
screamed its desire for release.
 Greg ripped open the condom and pulled it on. He poured a 
liberal amount of gel into his palm and slathered it over his penis. 
He knelt on the sofa cushions and watched with growing anticipation 
as Tony set a pillow under his lower back to raise his ass into the 
air. Greg squeezed out some more gel and rubbed it against Tony’s 
now-exposed anus, probing into his body with one finger to lubricate 
the tight opening. Tony closed his eyes in ecstasy, and Greg sent a 
few more finger-thrusts into him before he withdrew his digit and 
dropped the tube back onto the floor.
 “Hold still,” he said as he grit his teeth for control.
 He got a solid grip on Tony’s legs and spread them apart even 
further. He used his thumbs to spread his ass cheeks, then set the
swollen, hot head of his penis against Tony’s anus. With small 
grunts of pleasure and effort, and with one hand under his cock to 
achieve the correct angle, Greg worked himself carefully into Tony’s 
body. His dick slid slowly into the constricted opening, which
gradually loosened up as he sank deeper and deeper into the tight 
well. Finally, with a muted slap of flesh against flesh, his hips
met Tony’s buttocks and he found that his shaft had been completely 
swallowed up.
 “Oh, there we go,” he sighed with relief.
 “You didn’t lose it this time,” Tony remarked with approval.
 Greg shifted his grip and held Tony’s bent legs under the 
knees, while Tony held onto the sofa for balance. Greg started to 
pump into him then, slowly at first as he adjusted his speed to that 
of Tony’s buckling hips, then faster as the two men broke into a
quicker rhythm of lovemaking.
 “Oh, God,” Tony panted, rocking his head from side to side. 
He reached down and grabbed himself. “Come on, Greg, come on...”
 He hissed through his teeth and spread Tony’s legs even 
farther apart, humping him at a faster and harder pace as he tried 
to catch up. “I’m trying!”
 “Aaaah!”
 Tony’s face puckered up as he achieved a quick, unexpected 
orgasm. His cum flew into the air between them and caught Greg 
right under the chin, then dripped down onto his chest. Greg 
whipped his head up and closed his eyes, then cursed softly as he
slowed his pace. Usually, Greg would be the one to finish first; 
the tightness around his organ had always spurred him on and then 
he’d have to masturbate Tony to help him come. Now, apparently, 
the tables had been turned.
 “Well, that’s a switch, isn’t it?” Tony managed to say.
 “Yea.” Greg swallowed and slowly extracted his still-erect 
penis from Tony’s body with obvious disappointment. He came out with 
an audible pop, then sat down on the sofa and stared down at his 
hard-on with pursed lips. “And you said that I was the one desperate 
for a fuck. Apparently, you needed it more than I did.”
 “Here, love.” Tony pulled the pillow out from under his body 
and knelt in front of Greg. His face looked soft and relaxed as he 
dropped to the carpet, his body still tingling from his orgasm. “Let 
me help you.”
 “It’s not the same,” he said with a shake of his head. 
Nevertheless, he didn’t try to stop Tony from catering to his need.
 Tony slowly peeled off the condom and set it aside, then bent 
over Greg and guided the pole between his lips. He slid Greg’s penis 
expertly into his mouth, pushing it to the back of his throat and 
avoiding contact between the sensitive organ and his teeth. He watched 
with a secret delight as those beautiful lips curled around the base 
of his cock. Greg tossed his head back with a moan as he felt a
strong suction pass over his skin, coupled with the rasp of Tony’s 
tongue along the bottom of his shaft, and his hands wrapped around 
Tony’s head immediately.
 Although he’d thought himself to be a long way from coming, 
Greg felt the flow of semen coming up through his body after only a 
few pulls of Tony’s mouth. With a fierce expression on his face, he 
tightened his grip on Tony’s head to his groin as he exploded. Tony 
sputtered and backed up, white liquid dripping from his mouth, and 
he glared at Greg.
 “You know I fucking hate that!” he shouted. He drew his 
hands over his mouth, then spat a mouthful of saliva and semen into 
his palms.
 “Serves you right,” Greg panted, “for not waiting for me.”
 “Waiting for you? Waiting for you?” Tony pulled himself to 
his feet and went back into the kitchen, ranting at Greg as he washed
his hands and flushed out his mouth. “What the fuck is that supposed 
to mean?”
 “It means,” Greg shouted back at him, “that you didn’t even 
try to wait until I got close. You got yours, and you finished up. 
I could feel it, Tony.” He sat up and stormed towards the kitchen. 
“You just wanted me out of you.”
 “Well, maybe I did!” Tony retorted. “Maybe I’m tired of 
getting it up the ass all the time.”
 “So why the hell did you let me do it in the first place, 
huh? Why didn’t you just tell me that you wanted me to leave you 
alone, or just jerk you off, and left it at that?”
 “Because--” Tony swung back around towards him, water 
dripping from his chin and hands, “Because it’s what you wanted.”
 “Didn’t you?”
 The anger had begun to recede from Tony’s face, and he 
shook his head and pulled his robe tight around his body again to 
hide his nudity.
 “You’re leaving, and I wanted to make you happy. I really 
did. But I’ve just--”  Tony grunted and slammed his hand against 
the wall in frustration. “Oh, hell! Greg, every date that I’ve 
had for the past month has done it to me like that. Why do you 
think you were able to go in with so little trouble? Look, I’m
sorry that I did what I did to you, but I’ve just reached my limit.”
 Greg blinked. “All you had to do was tell me,” he said 
softly.
 His eyebrows went up. “Tell you what? That I’ve had so 
much sex, I can probably fit a fucking freight train into my arse 
by now?”
 Greg set his hands on Tony’s shoulder and stared into his 
dark brown eyes.  “Tony, I’m not here just to sleep with you. 
I... I wanted to say goodbye.” He planted a gentle kiss on the 
man’s cheek, then rubbed his thumb against Tony’s right ear. 
“It’s not about sex, man.”
 “It’s not about love, either,” Tony replied softly. He 
pulled away from Greg and passed through the living room, headed 
for the stairs. “I know that much,” his voice drifted back.
 Greg slumped against the wall, feeling spent by more
than the sexual activity. His brain felt muddled again.
 
 
 

Part Four


"Tony?"

Greg paused in the doorway to Tony's bedroom, still naked, although
he held his t-shirt and underpants in his right hand. He watched as
Tony turned to face him, then swallowed as the man's gaze ran up and
down his naked body in an almost lecherous way.

"Get dressed," Tony muttered at last. He turned away and went back to
staring out the rain-streaked window, his hands cupped under his
elbows. "I think we're done here, Greg. With everything."

Greg shook his head. "No, we're not." He let his undergarments fall
to the floor, then went over and curled up at the head of Tony's bed,
his knees drawn up to his chin.

"What more is there?" Tony asked in a monotone.

He swallowed. "Just one more thing. I want you to do me."

"'Do' you?" Tony held up his hands in irritated confusion. "What do
you think we've been at all day?"

Greg shook his head. "I've--" He looked away and winced, then stared
at the floor. "I've done what I've wanted, but I've never asked what
you want. And I think I know what you'd like." He looked up and
locked his gaze with Tony's. "Am I wrong?"

"But we've never--" Tony stepped forward and touched Greg on the
chin, staring deeply into his eyes. "You've never had it done to you
like this. You don't know what it's like."

"Please, Tony," Greg pleaded. "Do it before I change my mind."

"But why?"

"You know why. It's what you want from me. And it's time that you got
what you wanted for a change." Greg squeezed his eyes shut. "Please.
Just do it."

He licked his lips. "All right," he replied hesitantly. "But we'll
have to do it differently than you're used to."

Tony walked around the bed and pulled off his robe. He turned and
reached into the bureau drawer, where he withdrew a condom and a tube
of lubricant similar to the ones they'd used downstairs. Greg swung
his legs over the bed and sat there, watching with a mixture of
anticipation and nervousness as Tony covered his penis with the
condom and the clear gel. He dropped the tube back into the drawer
when he finished, closed the door, then turned around.

Tony motioned for Greg to get off the bed, which he did with silent
obedience, then pushed his shoulders down until the other man found
himself kneeling on the floor. With gentle direction, Tony bent him
over the edge of the bed and spread his knees apart on the rug.
Trembling, Greg reached for the sheet in front of him and curled it
into his fists as Tony pressed his member against Greg's ass.

"Shhh," Tony hushed him. He caressed the back of Greg's head, then
knelt down behind him and pressed his body against Greg's
back. "We'll take it nice and slow. It'll be... easier like this.
Somewhat."

"It's... it's gonna hurt, isn't it?"

"For your first time? Most likely. Though I've known some blokes that
had no problem with it. Now, just relax--"

Tony sent a finger down to probe at Greg's anus, and he slid one
digit in with care and began to probe the puckered opening. With the
touch of an expert, he slowly massaged the circular muscles and
loosened them up until he could fit two fingers into Greg's body. He
also began to masturbate Greg with the other hand, and the frontal
activity helped to ease the tension in his ass. Three fingers slipped
inside Greg, and Tony smiled.

"There you are," Tony whispered. He shifted his position slightly,
withdrew his hand and pressed the swollen head of his penis against
Greg. Greg blinked in surprise. He didn't think Tony had been ready,
or could be ready, so quickly. Tony's breath lingered in his
ear. "Let's take it slow," he breathed.

Licking his lips for control, Tony pulled Greg's ass cheeks apart,
then started to press himself against his anus. The opening had
closed almost to its original size again, but as Tony squeezed his
erect cock into it with a grunt the flesh spread open again.

Greg let out a whimper of pain as Tony pushed himself completely into
his body. Tears streamed out of his eyes as he stared straight ahead,
afraid to move under the weight of Tony's body and the pressure from
behind. His hands had the bedsheet in such a tight grip that his
knuckles went white. He could feel the man's rock-hard erection as it
slipped completely into his body, and when Tony's groin came to rest
against his ass, he closed his eyes and lowered his head with another
whimper.

"Oh," Tony panted. "Oh, yes. That's not so bad, now, is it?" He
started to pump himself into Greg, a smile of relief and delight on
his lips. He wrapped his arms around Greg's chest and pushed him up
against the bed. "No, that's not so bad at all," he remarked.

Greg could not respond. His body warred with itself as he tried to
distinguish between the pleasure and the agony in their lovemaking.
On the one hand, Tony had become a part of him, their bodies so
intimately locked together that he wondered why he'd never shared
this experience with him before. But the searing pain that tore
through him with each thrust of Tony's cock interrupted such happy
thoughts. He prayed for the pain to go away, for Tony's efforts to
yield waves of pleasure in him, but nothing changed.

Tony began to cry out his joy, his chest rising and falling against
Greg's back with each upward thrust. Greg felt himself being used and
abused, and he let it happen because he felt that he deserved it.
Hadn't he done this exact same thing to Tony? The tears continued to
fall from his eyes and onto the bed unnoticed by Tony, who had his
eyes closed in ecstasy. Greg wanted to shout out and stop it, but he
left his mouth open and let the air pass by his vocal chords, panting
in tandem with Tony.

With a sudden shudder, Tony grit his teeth and released a growl-like
moan as he lunged against Greg, pushing the man over the edge of the
bed and forcing him to his knees. Greg did cry out then, as much from
pain as from the surprise of being physically picked up and dropped
again. His scream became muffled by the mattress as his face sank
into it.

In a frenzy, Tony grabbed Greg's legs and pushed them even farther
apart, then rested one hand on Greg's lower back and sent several
quick, hard thrusts into his ass. Greg's tears dampened the sheet
beneath him as he turned his head to the right, and his vision swam
as he felt Tony come, splashing his seed into his rectum with a
hoarse shout of relief.

Tony thrust into him twice more, then withdrew and paused, his now-
spent member limp in front of him. He stared at the moist and
bleeding opening in front of him feeling both justified and ashamed
of himself, then slowly slid backwards until he stood by the edge of
the bed again. With care, he stripped the condom off himself and hung
it over the trashcan by the bed, then watched the blood-stained
rubber fall into its depths.

Greg did not move. He knelt there, his hips in the air and his arms
covering his head. His chest heaved as he desperately tried not to
sob. It had hurt. It had hurt far more than he thought it would, and
not all the pain came from his torn flesh. He knew, better than ever,
what Tony meant when he said that he didn't form emotional
attachments. Their act had been one of passion and power, but not of
love. And Greg knew then that he didn't care about Tony any more than
Tony cared about him.

In a painful act of self-actualization, he realized that Tony had
been right. Their relationship had nothing to do with love whatsoever.

He jerked as a cool washcloth rested against his ass, then settled
down as Tony pushed it between his cheeks and the cold water began to
ease the burning in his anus. Tony kept the cloth there as he lay
down beside Greg, and only pulled his hand away when Greg reached
back and held it to his own body. They did not speak or look at one
another, and they lay there together for nearly an hour before Greg
finally got up and went back to the spare bedroom, where he fell into
a solid sleep that remained undisturbed throughout the night.

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