I.
He couldn't remember being this nervous before. Walking down the hall he paused at a mirror to check his hair for the sixth time. It had taken him twice the normal amount of gel to produce satisfactory spikes, but they seemed to be holding up now. He checked his watch: 6:58. Should he knock now, or wait until it was 7:00 exactly? Dilemmas.

He wandered back over to the mirror, examining his reflection. He was dressed casually: cargos, Vans and a Hurley shirt. Maybe he was dressed TOO casually. Maybe he should change. Should he change?

Fortunately, he was spared the torment of making a decision. Right on time the door opened and his date stepped out.

Deryck wasn't sure why, but he found himself staring. There was something about the downcast blue eyes, the nervous agitation, the timid smile, that was completely irresistible. He re-examined familiar features in a new light and was surprised to find that the pale blond hair that had once been 'messy' was now 'sexily tousled.' When had hair become sexy, anyway?

He blinked back to the present and realized that his date was waiting for him to say something. Suddenly nervous, he nevertheless managed a brilliant smile that drew an answering grin.

"You look great," he offered shyly, unsure of what was expected. Apparently that was good enough because the grin grew and a slow blush flared in fair skin.

Smiling like a goddamn idiot, Deryck reached out a hand to his date. "Ready?"

Drawing a deep, calming breath, Jay took his hand and nodded.

II.
"Two for Vanilla Sky, please." Deryck glared challengingly at her as the woman behind the ticketbox did a double-take. Okay, so it wasn't exactly the type of movie that you would expect two 20 year-old guys to see...together...but that was so none of her fucking business.

Cowed by the venomous look, the ticket lady had to take a moment to find her voice. "That will be $17, sir."

Cone reached into his back pocket for his wallet, but Deryck just slid a twenty under the glass. Slightly embarrassed, Cone dropped his hand nonchalantly to his side and followed Deryck into the theatre.

At least he hadn't tried to hold the door open for him.

***

Deryck propped his feet up on the back of the seat in front of him and used the opportunity to sneak a glance at Cone. The younger man was watching the movie with rapt attention, head tilted slightly to one side in a way that made him look like a little boy. His head turned slightly and Deryck quickly looked away, trying to focus on the film. Cameron Diaz was rambling on about something or other, he'd missed a lot of the conversation. He'd missed a lot of the movie, actually.

Okay, Deryck. Focus. Stop thinking about him. He tried really hard to keep his eyes on the screen, but he kept glancing at Jay from the corners of his eyes. He couldn't help it: every time the boy shifted in his seat or took a sip of Coke Deryck caught the movement in his peripheral vision. He couldn't relax; it was torture to sit this close to Cone and yet be completely ignored by him. It was weird, and awkward, and frustrating, and a lot of other things that Deryck couldn't put names to.

Slumping farther down into the seat, Deryck scowled at the screen and prepared to be miserable. And then he felt a hand tentatively capture his, and suddenly it wasn't so bad.

III.
After the movie they strolled together down the street, talking about the practice the band had the next day, Cameron Diaz's flat hair, and a number of other randomly chosen topics. For the first time in a long while Jay felt totally at ease with Bizzy. The night was warm, the shops lining the sidewalks were brightly lit, and every so often as they walked Deryck's fingers would just sort of accidentally brush the back of Jay's hand, sending shivers up his spine. Everything was more or less perfect.

Once he got over his initial awkwardness, Deryck was surprised to discover that he was having a really good time. He supposed it made sense--after all, they'd been best friends for the past three years. Cone was just a really easy person to be around. He was funny, talkative, intelligent--he even laughed at Deryck's stupid jokes. Why couldn't he ever find girls like this?

"Ooh, look!" Deryck shook himself from his reverie to see Jay pointing excitedly at a small candy shop tucked between two larger stores. "D'you think they sell ice cream? Can we get some? Pleeeeease?"

Deryck couldn't help but chuckle at Cone's wide-eyed plea. Grinning, he nodded, then laughed again as Cone flashed him a delighted smile and grabbed his hand, dragging him into the shop.

"Good evening, boys," an elderly man greeted them from behind the counter. "What can I get you?"

"D'you have pralines and cream?" At the man's nod, Cone grinned. "One scoop on a sugar cone, please." He glanced over his shoulder at Deryck, who was watching the exchange with much amusement. "You want anything?"

"Nah," Deryck decided after a moment. He handed the shopkeeper a five, waved off the change, and followed Cone to one of the parlor's small tables.

"Is it good?" Deryck asked as Jay took an experimental lick from his ice cream cone. He tilted his head thoughtfully, considering the flavor carefully, then nodded. Deryck laughed, leaning back in his chair and watching as Cone licked at the ice cream with relish.

"I still remember how you used to eat one of those things every day at lunch," he remarked idly. "I could never understand how you stayed so damn skinny."

"Natural talent," Cone replied evenly, drawing another laugh. He grinned goofily, lapping at his ice cream cone like a little kid. It was such a small, simple thing, but it seemed to make him so happy, Deryck couldn't help but smile.

"What time is it?" Cone asked as he finished his ice cream, dusting his hands lightly of crumbs. Deryck glanced at his watch.

"10:00," he replied. "We should probably be getting back." Reluctantly Cone nodded his agreement, and the pair left the shop and piled into Deryck's car. The drive home was considerably less tense than the drive over, and before they knew it, the boys were home. They stood at the front door silently for a moment, both unwilling to let the night end.

"I had fun," Deryck offered quietly, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck with one hand. Cone nodded, biting his lip shyly.

"Me, too," he responded. Another minute of awkward silence passed. Suddenly Deryck lifted onto his toes and pressed his mouth solidly to Cone's lips. Taken off-guard, Jay blinked a few times in mild surprise before letting his eyes fall closed and leaning into the kiss. He was the first to pull away; from the other boy's expression, Deryck wasn't any happier about it than he was.

"Same time, Sunday?" Jay asked breathlessly. Deryck nodded mutely, not trusting his voice, and watched as Cone unlocked the door and disappeared down the hall into his room.

Alone in the twilight of the dim porch light, Deryck fought against a stupid grin, and lost.

IV.
My only promise is that I'll never tell/Keep you at a distance from the things that I felt/I'll bite the bullet/Take the beating until/I take it all back anyway/What was I supposed to say?

"Dinner was wonderful," Deryck murmured against his ear, words barely understandable above the pounding music. Jay pieced together the sentence from the fragments he'd caught and smiled, stretching sexily. He'd surprised Deryck tonight, not only with a meal he cooked himself, but one which was actually edible. The vocalist hadn't known he'd possessed that particular talent; although considering the household in which they lived, he supposed it was a skill born of self-preservation.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Cone replied, tilting his head back slightly to expose more of his neck as Deryck's mouth moved from his ear to his throat. The older boy's tongue flicked out to lap at his pulse and Cone sighed happily, melting into the bed.

"Mm," Deryck mumbled, his mouth too occupied to reply. He licked a wet line along Cone's jaw and then blew lightly against it, watching in fascination as a shiver rippled through the boy's skin. Cone's pale blue eyes rolled closed, and he positively purred as Deryck pressed a kiss to his collarbone before tracing the delicate curve with the tip of his tongue.

"This whole night...this whole week...has been so perfect," Deryck whispered. Cone sighed in agreement, too content to bother with words. One of Deryck's guitar-callused fingertips began to trace idle patterns across his chest, each loop dipping a bit lower until he was circling his navel and Cone's breath was coming in quiet gasps.

Deryck lifted his head to gaze down at the other boy. Head thrown back, eyes closed, mouth parted slightly in pleasure, Cone was beautiful. He brushed his lips lightly against Jay's and was rewarded when the bassist grabbed double-handfuls of his hair, pulling his head forcefully down until their mouths crushed against each other. The kiss was electric. Jay could feel the currents tingling through his body, radiating out to his very fingertips. His world narrowed until the only thing that existed was Deryck's mouth on his, Deryck's tongue stroking against his in that way that drove him wild. He almost didn't notice the hand creeping down to his pants, until the CD ended and the sound of the zipper being pulled echoed unnaturally loudly in the sudden silence.

Jay pulled away, mouth set in a disapproving line, and arched a critical brow at the other boy. Deryck had the good grace to blush a little, but he didn't seem too terribly embarrassed. His eyes were dark and glassy with lust and he made no attempt to hide it.

"Cone..." he whined, pouting a little in not-quite-faked disappointment. "Why'd you stop...?"

"Because if I hadn't, you wouldn't of, and then things would have happened."

"Doesn't sound so bad," Deryck mumbled, attempting to reestablish the kiss. Cone turned his head away, so Deryck settled for nibbling on his earlobe. "C'mon, Cone," he murmured, breathing warmly against the sensitive spot behind his ear. The bassist closed his eyes but otherwise didn't respond. "Please, Jay," Deryck whispered. His voice was low and husky. Cone almost gave in, swayed by the need in those two words, but found the strength to push him away.

"I can't," he whispered. He buried his face in the pillow to hide the rising tears. Behind him, he heard Deryck sigh.

"Okay," the vocalist murmured. The bed shifted as Deryck moved. At first Cone thought he was leaving; then strong arms wrapped around him, drawing him against Deryck's warm body. "It's okay. We'll do it when you're ready. Okay?" Tearfully, Jay nodded. Deryck smiled and kissed his ear. "Go to sleep. It's okay. I'm here."

V.
"YOU...are drunk."

Deryck blinked owlishly at Cone for a moment while the information processed. Once the words sunk in, his deer-in-the-headlights look changed to an expression of contemptuous scorn. "I am not," he said firmly, sitting up straighter on the stool to emphasize his lucidity. Cone stared at him for a few seconds, considering, then burst into sudden giggles.

"WHAT is so very funny?" Deryck demanded, glaring hard at his friend. Cone stopped laughing long enough to down a shot of Black and not inhale it. He tossed the glass back onto the bar and wiped at his mouth, grinning at Deryck's indignant expression.

"You. You d'funny things whe' you're drunk."

"I am not drunk. I am per-fect-ly sober," Deryck pronounced carefully, picking up his beer. Cone snorted with laughter.

"Like talk reeeeally carefully," Cone observed, motioning to the bartender for another round. Bottle poised at his lips, Deryck scowled.

"That's utterly ridiculous," Deryck retorted, throwing back a long gulp of beer that emptied half the bottle.

"...and use lots of big words," Cone added innocently, ducking as Deryck swiped at him in mock-anger. Unfortunately, Jay was pretty well hammered himself, and the swift movement set him off-balance. Arms desperately windmilling, Cone fell with a *crash!* into the person next to him, sending them both to floor.

"Hahaha, you fell over, hahaha, oh, that was so FUNNY..." Deryck held his stomach, laughing uncontrollably, as Cone glared miserably up at him.

"What's your fucking problem?!" The snarled question cut off Deryck's laughter abruptly. Swallowing loudly, Cone scrambled to his feet and turned to see the man he'd collided with looming over him. Of course he would be 6'3" and built like a fucking wrestler, Cone thought dismally. Murphy's fucking law.

"S-sorry," he stuttered out, backpedaling rapidly. He ran into Deryck, laughed a little nervously, and climbed quickly back onto his stool.

"Fucking little faggot," the man muttered as he returned to his stool, making sure it was just loud enough for them to hear. Deryck glanced at Jay and saw his back stiffen at the words; after a moment he picked up his glass and started drinking again like nothing had happened. For some reason, his total lack of response made Deryck even angrier.

"What the fuck did you say?" he demanded. Cone cringed, waving his hands frantically at his friend.

"Leave it alone, Biz," he whispered urgently, shooting a glance down the bar at the man. He didn't seem to have heard Deryck's question.

"No," Deryck retorted belligerently, shaking his head for emphasis. "That fucking asshole just called you a--"

"I KNOW what he called me," Jay interrupted, before Deryck could repeat the word. "Just forget about it, okay? He's a prick."

"NO!" Deryck shouted, more loudly this time, attracting the man's attention. Deryck glared fiercely at him, baring his teeth.

"What the fuck did you call my friend?" he demanded, slurring only slightly. A sudden hush descended upon the bar. The man stood up, walking closer.

"I called him a fucking faggot," he replied evenly, staring Deryck down. Deryck leapt from his stool, glaring up at the man in all his five-foot five-inch glory.

"Then you'd better fucking apologize," he growled. The man gave a sharp bark of laughter, eyes hard and cold.

"What are you, his fucking boyfriend?" he spat.

"Yeah, I am," Deryck retorted, completely unfazed. Cone blinked in surprise, but the big man just scowled.

"Then I suggest you both get the fuck out of here before you get yourselves hurt. Fucking bunch of cocksu--"

He didn't get a chance to finish the sentence. With surprising coordination for one so thoroughly wasted, Deryck jammed his knee into the man's crotch, choking off his words. At the same time his fist lashed out, so that when the man bent double in reaction to the attack on his groin Deryck's fist was there to smash into his face. Stunned by the unexpected assault, the man stumbled back and hit the bar. Deryck followed him, fist whipping out once more to smash into the man's face. Something cracked sickeningly and blood gushed from the ruptured nose. By now the bar was in an uproar, voices rising and bottles breaking, but Deryck didn't hear any of it. He hit the man again, then again, easily fending off the weak counter-attacks. He pulled his fist back for another blow and felt someone grab his wrist. It was Cone, his eyes wide and frantic with fear.

"We've got to get out of here!" he shouted desperately, trying to drag Deryck away. Deryck resisted, struggling to reach the now unconscious, bleeding man.

"Fucking dickhead..." he spat venomously, fists clenched. Cone wrapped skinny arms around Deryck's waist, pulling him back.

"It's over, Biz!" he shouted over the roar of the bar. The fighting was rapidly becoming random destruction. "Come on, you won, let's just go home!"

Glancing into Jay's terrified eyes, Deryck reluctantly allowed himself to be pulled away. No one noticed them leaving in the chaos. Luckily the bar was only a few blocks from home and they had walked, because neither one was in any shape to drive. Also fortunate was the fact that they were on vacation right now, and both Steve and Dave were back home in Ajax visiting their families. The drunk, exhausted boys needed questions like they needed a triple strength migraine. Which they would both probably have in the morning.

"I really got that guy," Deryck muttered smugly as Cone tended to his hands. His knuckles were red and swollen, blood seeping from a few small splits. Cone shook his head, exasperated.

"That was so fucking stupid, Biz. That guy could have killed you."

"But he did'n'," Deryck retorted, smirking. "Anyway, had to. Gotta defend yer honor." The smirk wavered, slid into a frown. "He shouldna said that 'bout you."

Jay sighed heavily, letting go of Deryck's hands and setting to work on getting the boy's shoes off. "You can't hit someone every time they act like an asshole," Cone lectured him sternly, finally unknotting the laces on one shoe and pulling it off. "Or you'll be fighting all the time."

"I KNOW that," Deryck replied, sounding insulted. He hiccuped lightly, frowning. "But he shouldna SAID that. Not to you." He stared down at the top of Cone's head, watching as he removed his other shoe. Cone bit his lip, eyes carefully focused on the task of removing Deryck's socks. He was some drunk himself, and his hands kept slipping.

"Somethin' I'm jus' gonna hafta deal with," he mumbled, tone neutral. He threw the socks sort of near the laundry room, and sat back, starting on his own shoes.

Deryck's hands on his stopped him. He let his hands fall into his lap as Deryck's surprisingly agile fingers picked the knots apart, then gently tugged off his shoes and socks. Cone stared at him dazedly, uncomprehending; at last Deryck looked up to meet his gaze. He smiled.

"Not alone," he promised.

VI.
Jay stared at his friend for a moment in shocked silence, unable to trust his senses. Had Deryck just said what he thought he said? Did he mean what he thought he meant? Was he feeling what he thought he felt?

Why on earth was he asking himself all these stupid questions? Deryck was right there. He could just ask him.

"What--what do you mean?" Jay whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. Deryck gazed earnestly back at him, large blue eyes dark with intensity.

"It means that you don't have to go through any of this stuff on your own. I want to be with you, Jay." Jay felt his throat tighten uncontrollably. There was something about the way Deryck said his name that made him blush and brought a warm glow to his heart. Deryck leaned closer, one callused hand reaching out to cup Jay's cheek. His palm was warm and firm and real, and wonderful.

"I love you," Jay whispered, without thinking. He regretted it instantly as he saw the shields go down in Deryck's eyes. Sighing, he pulled away from the touch, climbing to his feet and turning towards the bed so that Deryck wouldn't see the hurt his silence had caused.

"It's late. You should go to bed."

Deryck flinched at the flat, emotionless tone in Jay's voice. "Jay..."

"What?" Jay whispered without turning around.

Deryck climbed to his feet and then just stood there, at a loss for words. "Don't--just please don't think--"

"What? That you don't love me in return? It's the truth, Deryck. It hurts, but it's the truth."

Deryck ran a hand sharply through his hair, teeth gritted in frustration. "Fuck, Jay. I'm so fucked up I don't know what I feel. I don't--I don't even know what love is."

Jay wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly cold. "Sorry, Deryck. Can't help you with that one." He tried to sound cold and scornful, but it just came out sounding hurt. Deryck closed his eyes against tears, heart aching, searching for the words to take the pain away. They came slowly and awkwardly, tasting strange and untested on his tongue.

"You know in movies and romance novels, how they talk about their 'knees going weak' and shit when they see the person they love?"

"Deryck, what the fuck does this ha--"

"Look, I'm trying to tell you something important! Do you know or not?"

Jay sighed, willing himself not to cry. "Yes," he replied sullenly.

"I always thought that was weird. What's that mean, anyway? Weak knees?" If he was hoping for a response, he was disappointed. Chewing nervously at his lower lip Deryck continued. "Anyway. I figured it was just an expression. Just one of those weird things that didn't make sense.

"But something happened. It was the first time we went out; I was waiting by your door, nervous and scared and starting to think it was all just a huge mistake. And then you stepped into the hall, and my heart stopped. It was like I'd never seen you before. I couldn't stop looking at you; you were so beautiful, you made my head spin. I felt giddy and nauseous and terrified and shaky and so many other things I'd never experienced before. And suddenly, I understood."

At some point during the speech Jay had turned to his face him. Deryck stepped close to him now, eyes shining, voice heavy with the earnest sort of truth that only that magical amount of intoxication can bring. Jay stared as Deryck took one of his hands in both of his own, hardly daring to breathe.

"Jay, you make my knees weak. I don't know if that's what you want or even need, but it's the way I feel, and it's the best I can explain it."

***

He'd held his breath so long his lungs were starting to ache. Closing his eyes against the tears that began to fall, Jay let the breath out in one long, quiet sigh, melting against Deryck. The vocalist's strong arms wrapped around him easily, supporting him as he sobbed against the other boy's shoulder. Deryck kissed his cheek and murmured soothingly in his ear, cradling the thin, shaking body against him. Finally Jay had no more tears to shed; with a tired sigh he lifted his head, pulling away just enough to look Deryck in the eye. They remained that way for the space of a few heartbeats, staring soulfully at each other, then Jay leaned forward and closed the distance between them. It was a whisper of a kiss, lips barely brushing; Jay pulled away first, pale eyes locked on glittering blue ones.

"Stay with me tonight?" he whispered, half afraid Deryck would refuse. The older boy remained silent, merely drawing him closer for answer. Mouths collided, more forceful this time, as they tried to express with lips and tongues what they could not with words. Jay took a careful step backwards, drawing Deryck with him; a few more such steps and he felt his calves strike the edge of the bed. He collapsed on his back and Deryck followed him onto the mattress, legs straddling the slim hips, mouths never breaking contact.

Heaven, Jay's mind thought fuzzily as Deryck's hands slid under his shirt, raising goosebumps on his skin. He lifted his arms as Deryck pulled the cloth over his head, then helped the singer remove his own shirt. A cool breeze blew through the room, making Jay's nipples tighten; smiling, Deryck bent his head to run a hot tongue over one hardened bud.

"Unh!" Jay gasped softly, eyes widening in the darkness. Deryck glanced up at him, an assessing look in his eyes.

"Is that good?" he whispered. Jay thought he was teasing him at first, but looking down into Deryck's eyes he could tell the other boy was sincere. Swallowing against a throat gone suddenly dry, Jay could only nod his response. His eyes rolled back in his head as Deryck's tongue returned to his chest, this time his mouth closing over the nipple completely. He groaned and bit his lip as Deryck licked and sucked at the bud, sending tremors through his body. Strong teeth gently scraped the delicate flesh, then bit, and Jay couldn't stop a sob of ecstasy.

Concerned, Deryck pulled away, glancing at his bandmate for reassurance. Jay's eyes snapped open.

"If you stop now, I'll have to hurt you," he whispered, voice breaking slightly. Deryck lifted his head to kiss Jay's mouth briefly, tongue dancing along his lips, then he returned his attention to the pale expanse of chest beneath him. He repeated his earlier experiments on Jay's other nipple, and felt the effects as Jay grew hard against him. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to grind down against him and bring them both to climax, but somehow managed to restrain himself. In many ways, this was really their first time, and he was determined to do it right.

Jay's slim hands massaged Deryck's neck as the older boy kissed a light path down his chest. He licked a wet line from sternum to stomach, pausing to thrust his tongue heatedly into Jay's navel before continuing his descent. Jay's eyes rolled back and his hands clenched in Deryck's hair as the button of his jeans popped free, the zipper dragged down so slowly it ached. Deryck stood up to pull off the other boy's jeans as well as his own, then crawled back onto the bed in his boxers, straddling Jay's knees. He could hear the younger boy panting now; he paused to listen, enjoying the sound, until Jay groaned and lifted his hips slightly, clearly begging.

Well, he certainly wasn't going to deny him.

Gaze focused on his lover's face, Deryck ran his fingertips down Jay's hips, smiling faintly at the way Jay's jaw clenched in reaction. He laid one palm delicately over Jay's groin, feeling it harden under his touch, and let the warmth of his hand seep through the thin cloth of the boy's boxers. Jay groaned, head turning to one side, his eyes squeezed shut as if to /see/ what was being done to him would be too much. His head turned again, desperately, another groan slipping past his lips.

"Oh god, Deryck, oh god..." he whispered feverishly, hardly knowing what he said. Deryck didn't respond, only hooked his fingers in the waistband of Jay's boxers and tugged them gently down. Jay's head slammed back into the pillow and a sob tore itself from his throat as Deryck's warm hand wrapped around him carefully. He wanted so badly to thrust up into the warm circle of Deryck's fingers, but if he did that it would be over, and he didn't want it to end. As if he sensed this Deryck kept his hand still, murmuring little nonsense things and kissing Jay's hip until he came back a little from the sharp edge of orgasm. When he could think again Jay opened his eyes, staring up into the other boy's hypnotic blue gaze.

"I want you so much," Deryck whispered, releasing him and crawling up the bed to press their lips together in a fierce kiss. Jay melted against him, barely able to breathe, not caring in the slightest. Deryck drew back to look at him, and the hunger in his dark eyes sent a delicious shudder through Jay's body.

"Can I...?" He let the question trail off; it was obvious what he was asking. Jay nodded almost immediately, opening his mouth to speak and finding that he had to pause a moment to catch his breath. "Second drawer," he whispered when he could speak again. Deryck climbed off the bed and walked to the dresser, digging through the open drawer until he found what he was looking for. Materials in hand he knelt at the end of the bed. He considered the bottle for a moment, then set it aside on the bedspread. Jay felt his stomach clench at the sound of the tiny foil square being torn open, and he drew his knees up without being asked. Deryck picked up the bottle again, contemplating it a moment before looking down at the man beneath him.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked. If Jay woke up in the morning and regretted this...he didn't think they'd survive a repetition of that first night. Bottom lip between his teeth, Jay nodded.

"I love you, Deryck," he whispered, unable to help himself. Instead of pulling away, Deryck leaned over and kissed him gently. It helped to distract him from the pain as Deryck's fingers slipped inside, probing and gently stretching. He blinked back sharp tears, breathing deeply, and finally relaxed enough that it stopped hurting. Deryck removed his fingers and cautiously pushed inside, monitoring Jay's face for signs of pain. It took several minutes; once he was inside of Jay he just stayed there, awed by the feeling of total completion. Jay dragged his head down and kissed him tenderly.

"Deryck?" he whispered.

"Hmm?" Deryck responded, dazed. Jay bit lightly at his neck.

"Start moving," he whispered.

The first few strokes were slow and careful, as both boys adjusted to the new sensations. Deryck pressed his mouth warmly to the side of Jay's neck as the rhythm grew faster, tasting soap and the faint salt of sweat on the other boy's skin. Jay was moaning below him, clutching desperately at his back and making little keening sounds in the back of his throat. The world started to slip out of focus as his head reeled with sensation; swallowing hard, Deryck reached between them and began to stroke Jay in time. The younger boy came first, sobbing and thrashing; Deryck crushed their mouths together as he followed a moment later, groaning against Jay's tongue. They collapsed into a tired pile, sticky, sweaty, and utterly sated.

Deryck woke an hour or so later with a soul-deep feeling of satisfaction. Looking down at the boy curled up in his arms, it wasn't hard to figure out why. He pressed a tiny kiss to Jay's cheek, smiling as the bassist shifted slightly in his sleep.

"I love you, Jay McCaslin, you hopeless twit." He closed his eyes with a small sigh, drifting back to sleep. He didn't see Jay's smile.