If anything, there were twice as many cameras at the airport this time. We had more security, but even so, the press of the crowd was fucking frightening.

When I was in concert, the force of a thousand people all pushing forward was terrifying but also energizing, a tidal wave of people, their love carrying them towards you, ready to crash over you. You had to learn to feed off that love, that energy, not to let it scare you off, but to be enveloped in the combined danger and desire it manifested.

This was different. I felt exposed and vulnerable in a way I wasn’t used to feeling anymore. The crush of onlookers wasn’t powered by love, this time. It was something darker, more atavistic, a violent curiosity, like rubberneckers at an interstate pile-up. Sick voyeuristic fuckers.

They exploded when Giselle left the gate and approached me. Flashes so bright we might have been standing in a thunderstorm. She ran to me this time, a glorious smile fixed on her face, but I saw the concern in her eyes. We threw our arms around each other, and she whispered, “Oh god, I’m sorry about all this,” and I squeezed her, glad to have a friend.

The crowd wanted to see a kiss. Something long, luscious and passionate.

On my way over here, I’d said to Toby in the car: No. That’s where I draw the line. I’m not kissing her.

Don’t be a prude, said Toby.

It’s not about fucking prudishness. It’s disloyal to Cave.

Toby wouldn’t listen, so I’d texted Giselle, hoping she’d see the message before she left the plane.

She lifted her hands to my face and brought her lips close to mine. To the gathered cameras it looked real, even though our lips were an inch apart. She winked at me. She’d gotten the message. The crowd sighed and clapped and shouted, completely oblivious. Well, they would be. They were used to being fooled by everything we do.

“Saving yourself for marriage?” she whispered as we walked to the car.

“Something like that,” I said.

Toby was waiting for us in the car. “Glad you came back,” he told her.

“I couldn’t let you guys suffer like that,” she said. Looking at me, she said, “I’m including Cave in that. Is he okay?”

It felt like ages since I’d seen him last. He certainly didn’t look okay then. “I don’t know,” I said. “This is really hard for him.”

“Yeah, it’s hard for me,” said Toby, “since I’m the one doing all the work here.”

“By all means, let’s focus on Toby’s feelings,” I said. “That’s what’s important.”

He gave me a sour look. Things had really changed between us. There was such a big difference between looking out for my career, and looking out for me, and now I knew which side he was on.

It didn’t matter. I just needed him to tell me what to do. Where do I stand, where do I sit, what do I say. Smile pretty for the cameras. Treat it like acting, right? That’s all this was. And once I knew my part, I could get back to Cave. I wished I could just get the driver to drop me at Cave’s house right now. I needed him. I needed his stability. He was like the old lighthouse, nothing ever brought him down, no matter how big the storm. I wished I could be as strong as him.

“Do you want to take shots at me, or do you want the plan?” he said.

I bit back a sharp response. “Just the fucking plan.”

“Fine. Step one: We reveal Cave’s identity.”

To her credit, Giselle gasped.

If I’d been driving, I would have slammed my foot down on the brake. “Wait, what the fuck? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Listen, hear me out,” he said. “We’ve got Giselle here now, so this is going to work. She wanted to invite Rhody along, and it’s like she was telling the future. If our story is that two straight guys are just throwing each other around, Cave is perfect for that. He’s got the boy-next-door thing going on, all grown up like he might host the neighborhood barbecue. Soccer moms are going to love him because he’s clean-cut and safe. He’s got a kid, for god’s sake. We’ve got the pictures of all of you walking to the high school. We push hard on the nostalgia, but also on how into Giselle you are. Cave is your best bud. That’s it. That’s the story.”

“Yeah, except that Cave is gay, and he’s pretty open about that,” I said. “Also, whatever the plan here is, we’re leaving Jojo out of it. That kid has been through enough.”

“Fine, whatever, we’ll leave the baby out of the picture, but Cave is going to be happy to lie about being straight. He wants to save your ass, doesn’t he?”

“Nobody’s going to believe that,” I said, sighing. “The gay community in this town is really tight. They all know Cave is gay. Everybody knows Rhody likes girls. No one is going to believe for a second that Cave is straight.”

Toby’s face hardened in a way I hadn’t seen before. It was actually a little scary. “I don’t give a fuck what fucking Oceanside thinks about this, okay? This town does not mean shit to us. Oceanside’s gay community does not factor one fucking bit into my calculations, do you get that? It’s a podunk town that nobody has ever heard of.”

Giselle and I were both taken aback. Toby didn’t usually talk like this. It was at that moment that I realized: He was scared. He’d been giving updates to the CEO. His career was totally on the line too. He knew it, and he was willing to sacrifice anything to keep his position in the world--and that meant keeping me in mine.

“What matters--the only thing that matters--is what the world at large thinks. And the world is going to fucking love Cave. Single dad, tragic story, old pals with Ransom. They are going to eat that up. I’d be surprised if we don’t get a movie deal out of this story. Now that would be some money. Get your songs on the soundtrack, get an executive producer credit--”

“You’re going to destroy him if you do that,” I said. “I really can’t allow it.”

“Allow? Allow? You lost your vote when you refused to take my good advice to begin with. I told you, we could find you a guy. Hot guy, smart guy, some greasy biker, I could find you anybody you wanted. You just couldn’t have this guy, not right now. But you wouldn’t take my advice, would you? So now what: Do you want your career, or don’t you? Make up your damned mind, Ransom. The rest of us have work to do.”

We were at the hotel, and Toby was out of the car before he’d finished talking. I felt like I was in shock, sitting there. Giselle stayed in the car with me. She took my hand. “I’m so, so sorry it came to this,” she said. “You have to know, I swear to you I had nothing to do with it. Those weren’t my pictures.”

I nodded. “I believe you,” I said. “When it first came out, I was sure you had done it, like trying to get revenge on me. But the more I thought about it, the less it made sense. It could damage your career, too. Hell, it’s like everything I’ve done lately could destroy somebody’s career. I’m sorry I’m putting you through all this. Sorry that you came in at the one time in my life where I couldn’t really be fair to you.”

“Soaking in hot mineral springs for a while gave me plenty of time to think,” she said. “Maybe I was being selfish, worrying so much about what would happen to me if word got out that you were seeing Cave.”

“I guess we’re testing that theory now. I’m so worried about him, Giselle. I wish I had a way of protecting him from all this.”

“I know.” She squeezed my hand.

“It’s so unfair to him. Why should he be punished? He didn’t know he was signing up for all this. If anyone deserves punishment, it’s me. This life I’ve built up, it’s so artificial. It’s a fucking temple to fakeness. Why did I think I deserved anything better? Why did I think I could have anything real?”

“Ransom, no, you can. You do deserve it.”

“I don’t. This is the proof. I don’t deserve love at all.”

“Well, I think that’s bullshit,” she said. “You certainly deserve a friend, and that’s what I am.”

“Can you think of any way to stop Toby? Any way to keep this from blowing up on Cave? Because I can’t. Oh, god, I’ve got to talk to him. I’ve got to let him know what Toby has planned, but--”

“No buts,” she said. “You’re still in the car. Go to him right now.”

“But you--”

“Me? Jesus, Ransom, forget about me. Yes, I actually said that. I’ll go upstairs and try to sweet-talk Toby into delaying his big plan. Or maybe I’ll fake a heart attack. Who knows. But go, right now. Talk to Cave.”

* * *

Cave and I didn’t say anything for a while. We held each other, not even making it into the living room, just clinging silently, drawing what strength we could from each other. I saw myself in the foyer mirror, shocked by how distraught I looked compared to him. He was so good at composure. He was a problem-solver. In his own way, he was a lot like Toby. Other people brought him their problems, and he sat down and figured them out.

It cut me deep that I had become one of the problems everybody had to solve.

“So it’s really happening,” he said finally. “Cave Mathis, Straight Best Friend. Not a role I ever saw myself playing.”

“I’m going to try to stop Toby from going with it,” I said. “Believe me, I’m going to do everything--”

His fingers touched my lips. “It’s okay,” he told me.

“It’s really not.” I kissed his fingers. “I feel like I’m destroying everything.”

He laughed then, except the laugh was quiet and weary. A laugh that held a lot of pain. “What’s ironic here is that we’re stuck in an either/or situation. If we go through with this, you had better damned well remain a superstar, because I’m going to be out of a job.”

I didn’t understand what he meant, although he tried to explain it, a parade meeting gone bad, accusations thrown around. Eventually, it became clear: His job relied on trust. And he was going to have to lie to the world.

“Or we could go the other way,” I said, “and you could support me on your freelance web-designer riches once I lose my career.”

We finally made it to the couch. “Third option,” I said, putting my head on his shoulder, “we could run away together. Ditch everything. No more Oceanside, no more music.”

“We could move up to the mountains, to some rustic cabin,” Cave said. “We could be lumberjacks.”

“I do look good in flannel,” I said.

“I realize I’m just a middle-class person, not wise to the ways of Big Music or anything, but why don’t you just resign? You’re a millionaire. You could never sing another note, and you would still be rich.”

“I’m not a millionaire. It’s all fake, Cave. I mean, I shouldn’t say that. The money is real. There’s a ton of it. But it’s all contingent on giving the label what they want. The money pours in, as long as I’m pumping out albums, making licensing deals, all that. The second I try to give up the business, though, the lawyers come knocking. Asking for advances back, that’s bad enough. But the label would put me in court, drain every dime I have, just as punishment. No matter how much money I’ve already made for them, if I threaten to stop the profits before that contract runs out, they’ll bleed me dry.”

His arm pulled me in closer. My cheek was against his throat, feeling his warm pulse. “That’s so ugly,” he said.

“Yet the whole world envies my lifestyle. Isn’t that crazy? Everybody wants to be famous. They think, if they could just get their names out there, everything would be perfect and good forever. But there’s always somebody pulling the strings. God, that’s why I love this so much, Cave, what I have with you. You’re like this fortress, you keep all that bullshit outside.”

His fingers toyed with my sleeve. “Is that what fortresses do? I don’t think I’m quite that strong.”

“Are you kidding? The way you’ve built a life for yourself, a real life... How did it happen, Cave? I feel like a fucking shadow like I’m not real at all. I thought I was going to make something of myself, I thought I had to run away to do that.”

“You’re plenty real to me,” he said. He bent his head down and kissed me. “I’m not going to lie, I wish things were really, really different. But I don’t fall for shadows. Fake people make me nervous. That’s not what you are. You got yourself into a tough spot. But you’re still you.”

I slid down until I was lying in his lap, looking up at him. His fingers twisted my hair into curls. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“What, touch your hair? I love your hair.”

“No, I mean, you don’t have to try to make me feel better. I know you’re pissed off. No, don’t deny it, I know it. But you’re so used to setting yourself aside for other people, that you’re just swallowing down the anger right now, the blame, so that you can comfort me. You don’t have to do that.”

His smile was weighted with so much pain, the edges of his mouth could hardly lift. “I’ve had a lot of practice swallowing my anger. Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not fair to you. You don’t have to take care of me. You can be mad.”

His lips tightened. “I don’t know if I can, Ransom. Not really. I have worked so hard at having the kind of life I could be proud of. At being the polar opposite of my father. He was always pissed off. Yelling at my mom, yelling at me and Janey. As much as it hurt when he left, the house was so quiet when he was gone. It was the first peace we’d ever really had. I don’t want to be like him. Not one of these angry guys that’s always flying off the handle.”

I reached up and touched his chest. “There’s a big difference between rage-addicted assholes, and what you’re going through. What I’m putting you through.”

“Is there? Because I feel like if I let it out, it’s never going to stop, Ransom. Like a forest fire that starts from a little spark, I feel like I’ve got enough rage to burn down the whole world.”

I could feel his heartbeat. “I don’t know, that might be kind of sexy.”

“Trust me, I’m not eager to see it.”

“You’re the honest one,” I said. “Honesty means letting people know when you’re mad.”

“What do you want me to say? Of course I’m mad. Ransom, I almost wish I’d never seen you at the boardwalk! That’s a terrible thing to say, but it’s true! I love you so much, and I am so glad you came back, but at the same time, what the hell? Tabloids, the morning news, I never counted on any of this becoming part of my life. I’m just as mad at myself because I should have known. I should’ve just...”

“Should have what?”

“Should have known that I didn’t deserve someone like you. That someone like me, Mr. Responsible, wasn’t allowed to have a wild affair with a dangerous person like you.”

I sat up, my face inches from him. “Don’t you ever say that. Don’t ever think, for one second, that you don’t deserve love. If anybody in the world deserves to be happy, and to feel love, and be supported, and all those other good things, Cave, it’s you.”

Before he could protest--and I knew he wanted to--I kissed him. Got my arm around his shoulder, pulled him in. My tongue found his, our lips vibrating with his murmur of protest. He had so much else to say, so many ways to put himself down, and I wasn’t going to hear it. We’d done enough of that tonight, enough pitying ourselves. He had to be shown how much I loved him, how much he deserved love.

My hand was already down between his legs, the force of our kiss arousing him, the thickness of his cock evident against my palm. “Fuck me,” I whispered against his lips.

I knew it wouldn’t bring balance back into the world. The world doesn’t care about the metaphors of fucking. It didn’t matter. I had crashed into his life and destroyed everything, and all I could give him right now in recompense was myself. I climbed into his lap, my knees pressed against the back of the couch, and rubbed myself against him.

He started to protest. “I don’t have any--”

I kissed him again, until he was silent. “Stop talking,” I said. My hands traveled under his shirt, feeling the ridges of his flank. “You’re going to take me, right here. You’re going to hate-fuck me raw until you feel better again. You’re going to pound me into fucking submission, do you understand that?”

What I needed more than anything was to feel like some kind of justice was being done, and if that meant taking his unlubricated cock up my ass, fucked until it hurt, then that’s the way it had to be. I knew he was hesitant. I knew he never wanted to hurt anyone, but I needed him to cause me some goddamned harm.

I dragged him down to the floor. He landed on my chest with a gasp. The surprise in his eyes turned into the briefest flash of anger. I ripped his shirt off, tugging it over his head and arms, throwing it aside. Showing him how to do it. His hands were on me, stripping me. He was so rough, pushing me around to get my shirt off, to yank my pants down until I was exposed.

When he rolled me over, shoving my face into the carpet, I knew he had crossed a threshold in his own mind. He was allowing himself to be just as angry as he truly was. The thought of it had me achingly hard, but it wasn’t my turn. I lifted my ass toward him. I thought of all the things I could tell him, ways that I could urge him on, but kept my mouth shut. This was his show now, not mine. He could do whatever he wanted.

His fingers raked down my back. I was glad he didn’t have sharp nails. Or maybe I wasn’t glad. Maybe I deserved to be scratched to ribbons. I don’t know. What I did know was that the strength of his hands had me forgetting everything else that had happened. He was pressing against me, his cock rubbing against my ass, getting his hands on my hips and pulling me back. Maybe he was going to dry-hump me. That was fine. I could live with that. Maybe I could get my hand underneath me, grab my cock, and pump it while he did his thing.

Every single thought flew out of my head when he bent down and kissed my ass. All this stuff about giving him what he wanted, all the thinking, just evaporated away in the fire of pure lust his tongue lit up in me. I gasped. I couldn’t even breathe. He was mad, and he was taking it out on me, and I thought I was going to die of pleasure. His mouth was rough. The stubble of his chin first tickled my balls, then burned against them. I didn’t care. I wanted it. It felt good, the way it scraped against my most delicate skin.

I felt hot. Physically, burning hot, like he was giving me a fever by eating me. My knees were weak. He was making me shaky, licking, nibbling, and it was driving me crazy. I wanted him to fuck me now, I wanted to demand that he fuck me, because everybody in the world was supposed to do my bidding, the whole planet was supposed to bow before my fame, and the fact that I couldn’t make that demand of him, the fact that he was in control, was about to make me come without even touching myself.

When he started to push his cock into me, though, I went to another plane entirely. I was wet, yes, but this was nothing like last time. Without a good lube to protect me from the friction, I was so aware of my body. I couldn’t just slam back against Cave. He felt it too. He was slow, so slow it was agonizing, inch by burning inch. I had to remind myself to breathe because I just wanted to hold it all in, bite my lip, squeeze my eyes shut. It was the most delicious fear I’d ever experienced.

The need to slow down, to be gentle rather than rough, did something strange and amazing to the passion I was feeling. I still felt it, just as urgently, but it became languorous, stretched out, like time was winding down. I was in my body, instead of in my head, and I could feel each individual nerve ending, like a million little lights, all over me, and as he pulled halfway out of me with excruciating care, I could feel all the lights come on at once.

It’s one thing to know someone loves you. But I don’t think, until that moment, that I understood what it meant to have someone care about you. His concern for my body, for how this would feel, easing me into it, letting me bask in the pleasure of it, instead of just using me as his fuck-toy, made me feel this warmth inside my chest I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before.

One of his hands was still on my hip, but the other circled around, reaching for my cock. Gripping it, he stroked down its length in time with his slow thrusts, and when he’d pull back, his hand would come all the way down my shaft to my balls, pressing against them, setting off all those little lights.

I pushed my face into the carpet and whimpered, impaled on him, grateful to him, such a wild mix of emotions that I almost thought I was going to cry, but I didn’t. Instead, I came.

I knew it was going to happen. My balls began to tighten even as his strokes became more gentle, teasing. I could have held out. Could have nudged his hand away, let myself recover, let it last longer. But his thick cock inside me, his hand on me, I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to feel it all, right now. Those million little lights turning to lightning, that shiver in my flanks and sudden sinking feeling all through my belly, signaled it was time. I groaned and pushed myself back, not too hard, just far enough to really feel his cock all the way inside me, and then it happened, my climax taking every part of me.

He moaned then, long and low, as my orgasm tightened my ass on his cock, and he was there, coming inside me, his short sharp thrusts the first time he had allowed himself to be quick, his cock lubing itself with his seed so that suddenly it all felt smooth and fucking heavenly.

Collapsing atop me, overcome by it, he pushed me down further onto the carpet. I could hear him breathing in my ear, could smell the scent of my seed.

“I think I could just be like this for the rest of my life,” I whispered.

There were so many things he could have said to me. Unkind but true things. If you want it to be like this, then you have it in your power. It’s your fault if it doesn’t happen.

But he didn’t say anything like that. “Me too,” was all he said. “Me too.”