The first thing I feel is the clashing of cold steel and warm softness, pressing gently onto my lips. I open my eyes briefly, just to confirm that I am , in fact, with the right person, then I let then flutter shut as my arms slip around him and I kiss him back. "Morning," he croaks out, and I grimace.

"Yeah, it's definitely morning. Early morning. What's the time?"

He points at the alarm clock that's about two inches from my head. Six AM. Way too early for normal people to function. "I'm going back to my room, okay?"

I pout and hug him tighter, crushing our naked bodies together. As much as I don't want my sister to wander in on this little scene, I don't want him to leave either. Sarah has a habit of strolling into my room whenever she wakes up - usually around seven - and bugging me until I take her shopping. I suppose she just misses me, since I'm away all the time. I suppose she also realizes that I'll buy her pretty much anything she takes the slightest interest in. Well, within reason. She knows that I can't take her shopping today, though, so there's a lower risk factor. Today's Tony's funeral. I'm not entirely sure that we should be attending at all, but in truth, no matter what happened between us, I know that the old Tony, the fun loving, crazy Tony that drank vomit and couldn't sing for three days was still in there somewhere. I'm going to that Tony's funeral, not the funeral of a murderous madman.

His lips trail burning kisses along my jawline and down my throat, and I groan a little in pleasure. He chuckles softly and places a finger on my lips, then removes it and kisses them. "Last night was perfect, Joel," he whispers softly, and I just nod, my throat dry, "wish we could stay this way forever."

He organises his hand so his index and middle finger are walking up the length of my arm to my shoulder, which he leans over and kisses, not taking his eyes off of mine. I snuggle up to him and capture his bottom lip in my mouth, sucking softly on his middle ring. He moans softly and arches into me, and I feel my cock twitch. "Okay, Benj, you're going to have to leave now, or Sarah will be walking in on a much, much worse scenario than this one."

He laughs, brushing his lips against mine once more before he climbs out of my bed and wanders around the room, picking up his clothes which were tossed in all different directions the previous night. I smirk as I watch him pull on his boxers clumsily. Clumsy, cocky, silly, funny, lovable Benji. He turns as he hears me giggle at him and raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"Those are my boxers. You know how much I hate it when you wear my boxers."

He looks down. "Yeah. I do."

He picks up his t-shirt and walks out of the room, and I sigh in feigned annoyance. Clumsy, cocky, silly, funny, lovable, frustrating Benji.

I half expect Matt to deck me, but he doesn't. When we arrive, he greets us with a smile and a pat on the back, and I'm just opening my mouth to say "I'm sorry", when he beats me to it. "I know he caused you a lot of grief."

I just shake my head and hug him, and Benji does the same. I feel stiff, though. It's probably because I haven't worn a suit like this since we filmed our video for Lifestyles. We made an effort to cover up most of our tattoos, and Benji took out his piercings, but looking around I can see that we needn't have. I guess everyone figured out that Tony would've wanted us to be ourselves. It's funny how clueless everyone is - only a select few have any idea about the events leading to their friend's death. I'm glad, though, because I wouldn't have wanted any of these people to remember Tony that way.

I take a seat next to Paul, and Benji slides in next to me. He takes my hand in his, sneakily hiding this little sign of affection by shuffling close to me, and squeezes gently. I squeeze back, guilt rushing through me as I realize that Paul's taken note. He's folded his arms across his chest now, and he won't look at us. Benji gives me a questioning look, and I shrug. He leans over and whispers into my ear. "I know that you know what's up with Paul, Joel. What's the deal?"

"Now is not the time, Benji," I hiss, and he lets go of my hand. Great, now I've pissed both people on either side of me off.

I glance up as a fat old man at the front of the room starts talking, hushing us all. "We're gathered here today to celebrate the life of Anthony Lovato..."

There are fifty or so people hanging around at Matt's place, having drinks and talking about the good times. Lars is telling some story about one of the people who passed out at one of our legendary parties - if someone made the mistake of getting drunk enough to pass out, Tony'd strip them of their clothes, and when they woke up they'd walk around naked for the rest of the night. Benji and I are sitting on one of the couches, and he's had his arm around me for quite some time now. No one seems to notice or mind, though, not after they saw me bawling my eyes out earlier. I always cry at funerals. I guess they all think he's just comforting me, but it's so much more than that.

"Joel," my brother whispers, having obviously forgiven me for earlier, "you look so hot right now."

I raise my eyebrows and turn my head to face him. It's a good thing Pierre is being so damn loud, because I really don't want anyone to hear this stuff. How can he seriously be thinking about how hot I am at a time like this? Although, come to think of it, he doesn't scrub up so bad himself. "That's nice, Benji."

He slips his other arm around me and hugs me, and whines softly in my ear. "Joel, I'm horny..."

My eyes widen and I shove him gently away from me, and he pouts. "What the fuck, Benji? Not here!"

He smirks. "How 'bout the car, then?"

I shake my head, and I know my shock is clear on my face. You'd think he'd be able to keep his mind out of the gutter for a few hours while we're at a memorial, for God's sake. He ignores my silent protest. "Meet me at the car in five."

"Excuse me a moment," he mumbles to Matt, "I left my cell phone in the car."

He winks at me as he leaves, and I sit there, gaping. There's no way I'm going to go meet him. No way. This is so not the time or place. And anyone could walk past the car in the apartment's parking lot! Anyone could walk past and see the famous Madden twins, moaning each other's names while we rock back and forth in the backseat of the car, bodies slick with sweat, each of us writhing under the touch of the other...

My cock twitches. Dammit, I'm going to have to go, aren't I? I stand up. It's probably barely been two minutes, but I mumble some excuse about seeing what's taking my brother so damn long and leave. I practically sprint to the elevator, and when I arrive in the carpark, he's leaning on my Corvette with a cocky smirk on his face. "I knew you'd come."

I stride over to him quickly and push my body up against him. "Not yet," I murmur, before pressing my lips hard against his own. He grunts, his hand fumbling as he searches behind him for the door handle, and when he finds it he pushes me away and opens the door. "Get in," he growls, and I obey him. I love it when he orders me around.

I lie down on my back in the backseat of the car, and he climbs on top of me, awkwardly shutting the door behind us. By this point, I'm hard as a rock, and groaning in anticipation as he straddles me, his lips inches from mine. He grabs both of my wrists and pins them just above my head in one hand, and I let my tongue flick out over my lips. "Now, I'll let you do whatever you want to me," he brushes his hand over the erection in my pants, "just as soon as you tell me what the deal with Paul is."