Something woke Brian. It took him a second to realize that it was a tongue sneaking into his mouth, along with the faint taste of beer and cigarettes and the slight scratching of stubbles against his cheek. He groaned and gave in immediately, head drowsy with the drinks and marijuana they had had while watching their third movie that evening, "Yellow Submarine" ("Can't watch that without dope," Steve had declared and they had all eagerly agreed). Silently, Brian was hoping that the mouth belonged to Steve... They were all in front of the TV. When Brian had opened his eyes last time, Steve had been lying on the soft carpet, snoring peacefully, while Brian had occupied most of the sofa and Stefan had tried not to fall off it.

Hands slid under his T-shirt and Brian knew it was Stefan, he'd know these hands among a hundred others. Still too sleepy to remember he and Stefan were no longer together, he allowed his T-shirt to be pulled over his head and moved to a more comfortable position when Stefan straddled him. He still hadn't opened his eyes and he didn't feel like doing so. What for? This felt good, who needed eyes?

Stefan slipped with one knee and almost fell off the sofa, but Brian managed to catch him, finally opening his eyes. They looked at each other and both stifled giggles.

"I'm drunk," whispered Stefan.

"So what, I'm stoned," Brian murmured back, sniggering quietly. Then they resumed the kissing, with Brian fumbling at Stefan's jeans. They somehow were in the way. They'd better open a bit. Brian grunted plaintively when Stefan decided to use that very moment to escape from Brian's hands by licking his way down the singer's throat towards his nipples, but then Brian resolved that it wasn't such a bad change. He cradled Stefan's head, closed his eyes again and enjoyed the kissing, moaning slightly when Stefan playfully bit his right nipple. He reached down with his left hand and began to caress Stefan's crotch.

Stefan groaned and froze to the spot, unable to resume with the kisses, and let Brian go on for a while. "I'm really sorry for being such a bitch," he muttered breathlessly.

"Yeah," panted Brian, "so am I, but why the hell aren't you kissing me?"

"Sorry." Stefan moved up again, locking his mouth on Brian's while simultaneously opening his jeans to slip a hand inside them. Brian sighed into Stefan's mouth and hugged him closer, drowning completely in the sensation of their playing tongues and the hand crawling beneath his underwear.

Steve woke up to the sound of heavy breaths, moans and groans. He blinked confused, trying to locate the source of the sounds - had they forgotten to switch off the TV before falling asleep? He glanced at the screen in hope for some late-night-porn, but it only showed music videos with the volume turned down. Then he realized the sounds came right from the other direction, so he turned his head and looked at the scenery on the sofa.

He grinned.

Well, well. What was it about the 'We've decided to end this before it becomes too serious and gets in conflict with the band?'-thingy, then? He rolled into a more comfortable position on his carpet and amusedly watched Brian removing Stefan's T-shirt. They were far too busy with each other's nether parts to notice that their drummer had woken up. In fact, Steve thought, they probably didn't remember at all where they were.

When Brian had finally managed to open Stefan's jeans, Steve sighed inwardly and reluctantly admitted that it was time for him to give a sign that he was still there before it got too embarrassing for the two. "Training for your next cockfight, Sonny and Cher?" he asked mischievously.

The two jumped and stared at him lying on the carpet, head resting on his hands, watching them.

Brian grabbed one of the decorative pillows and flung it at him. "Peeping Tom!" he hissed, pushing Stefan away and quickly pulling up his jeans again, which had already been half way to his knees. As soon as he was finished, he followed the pillow and attacked Steve with tickles. Stefan quickly pulled up his jeans as well and joined in with a mad snigger: "Yeah, let's rape the peeping hetero Tom!"

After a few minutes, Steve pleaded for mercy, being no longer able to breathe. Brian stopped with a last rather unpleasant punch in Steve's ribs and sat down on the floor, glaring at the drummer. "Bastard!" he hissed.

"Sicko!" Stefan added, moving off Steve's legs.

Steve sat up and took a deep breath. "Sorry, but if you two insist on fucking right in front of me -"

"And of course you couldn't do anything but watch!" Brian growled.

Steve grinned. "I was hoping for some porn on TV but live is much better, isn't it?"

"And you say you're not gay!" Stefan hissed.

Steve just laughed. "I'm not, but it was highly amusing..."

He tried to escape the next attack but Brian was faster, grabbing him by the wrists and straddling him. Steve kindly looked up to him.

"Next time," Brian drawled, "next time, dear Stevie-beanie, you either keep your eyes and ears shut and travel far, far away into the lands of dreams again, or you join us, do you hear me?"

"Yes, mommy Bri."

"And to make it clear to you, by this I totally mean the second alternative, for if you chose the first one, I'll hate you for the rest of your life, okay?"

Steve grinned. "Yes, Bri-pie. Now please get off me, okay? You're heavy."

Brian speechlessly stared down at him. "Heavy?" he hissed. "HEAVY? Why, you little twat..."

Steve started to laugh at Brian's hurt expression and found that it is very difficult to laugh when a man, however small and skinny he might be, is sitting on your chest. "Stef, pwetty pleeease..." he gasped, looking imploringly at the bassist.

Stefan sighed, got up and lifted Brian off Steve.

"Let me down!" Brian shrieked angrily, but Stefan just kept him in the air for a moment until he'd calmed down a bit. Then he gently flung him onto the sofa, where Brian snuggled into a comfortable position, put on his best ladyboy pout and glared at Stefan. "People that tall should be forbidden," he then declared, faking to look deeply hurt.

"Come on, Bri," Steve said.

"I wanted to come, but you had to get in the way!" Brian snapped back, unable to suppress a grin.

"We could still go on," Stefan offered, hopefully glancing in the direction of Brian's bedroom, but Brian shook his head.

"No," he said, "I fear I'm far too sober now."

Stefan sighed. "Yeah, me too."

"But I'm happy we're no longer mad with each other," Brian added.

"Yeah." Stefan smiled. "Who'd want Chris when he could have you?"

"Awww!" Brian jumped onto his feet and hugged Stefan. "Thanks!"

Steve looked at them, shaking his head, and sighed. "I really DO have to get a video camera!"

Seeing four very skeptical eyes fixing on him - silently questioning his motives to get a video camera -, Steve decided it was best to go to the kitchen in order to convince the fridge to spit out another beer. "Just for capturing Bri's mood swings!" he shouted, closing the fridge.

"I'm sure!" Stefan and Brian hissed simultaneously, before Brian added: "Pervert!"

Steve walked back, reaching out to tousle Brian's hair before sitting down on the sofa. "There's a message on the machine," he announced.

Brian looked at the table. Indeed, a small red light flickered on and off. He sighed and pressed the button. He immediately froze when Christian's voice emerged from the answering machine.

"I bet you ARE home, Brian," the voice said, sounding very drunk, tired and aggressive, "probably busy fucking someone." Brian blushed violently and avoided looking at Stefan. "Anyway," the voice continued, "I hope one day you get what you deserve, you little bitch, a real lesson to teach you you can't just walk around playing with people. I have feelings, you know? Fuck you! Quick-fuck slut!"

A small *click* indicated that Christian had hung up.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Brian sat down next to Steve, feeling very weak and small all the sudden. Steve mutely passed him the beer and Brian took a huge gulp.

"Remind me to finally get my name out of the phone book," he said feebly.

Stefan squeezed himself next to Brian and hugged him, shocked to feel that Brian was actually shaking a bit. "Forget about that, Bri."

"Yeah," Steve added, starting to cuddle Brian as well, "you heard him, he was pissed like anything."

Brian just accepted the stereo caressing and tried to calm down. "You know," he said after a long pause, "I rather like 'quick-fuck slut'. Too bad I can't change the lyrics of Slackerbitch anymore..."

He sighed when he met Steve's eyes telling him that there was no use trying to fool his two bandmates, that they knew very well how upset and confused he was by the insults and that he should just stop trying to deceive them.

He shrugged helplessly and buried his face in Steve's neck while Stefan began to massage his shoulders.

The sun poured into the apartment. It was early noon and Brian and Steve were still peacefully asleep in Brian's bed. Brian had been too upset to sleep alone and they had decided that there was a certain risk for sex if he stayed with Stefan, so the bassist had decided on sleeping on the sofa. He had woken up feeling rather crumpled and cursed silently at the silly idea of putting the tallest of them all onto the small, narrow sofa. Next time, Bri and Steve could have it and he'd take the bed!

Watching MTV and drinking coffee, Stefan tried to wake up, ignoring the slight hangover. That was nothing. He was used to much worse. He just smiled at the thought that this had been supposed to be a calm night to rest from the parties - pardon, 'partays' of the last week.

He looked at the answering machine and the smile faded. He sat there for a moment, caught in thoughts and pondering a decision.

Finally, he had made up his mind and grabbed the telephone book. He skimmed through the pages, stopping at the Mcs. McAllistair... no. He moved on. Damn it, why did London have to be so huge? McDermid... McEwan... McGregor - fuck, to far! He went back. McGee, there he was. McGee, Andrew... McGee, Armin... Armin??? Stefan shook his head in wonder. Poor sucker, he thought. Armin. /I'm Armin./ - /Why are you armin' yourself?/

Stefan shooed away the silly thoughts. This was serious. Finally he found 'McGee, Christian' and sighed when he realized there were five of them, but a second afterwards his face lit up when his eyes caught one 'McGee, Christian Jacob'.

His expression changed to one of menace and danger as he took the phone and slowly dialed the number like a hangman preparing an execution with utmost sadism.

He let it ring five, six, ten, fifteen times until finally someone answered with a sleepy growl. "Yeah?"

"Chris?"

Pause. "Who the fuck is there?"

Stefan smiled. Yes, that was most certainly Christian's voice. "It's Stef."

Another pause, longer this time. "Hey," Christian finally said, clearing his voice. "How're ya?"

"Fine." The smile became cruel and Stefan regretted that Christian couldn't see it. "Unlike Brian, you know, who was rather shocked when he checked his answering machine."

The next pause was so long that Stefan thought Christian had hung up. "Chris?"

"Yeah."

"What the fuck were you thinking, you little twat, huh?"

"Look, Stef -"

"You're such a goddamn coward, Chris, this is worse than just punching Brian after this changing room thingy -"

"What?" Christian clearly was in shock now.

Stefan laughed unpleasantly. "He's my best friend, Chris. He tells me practically everything."

He could hear Christian gulp at the other end of the line.

"Look, Chris, if you fancy him it's none of my business. I'm sure Brian is rather flattered by that. If you call him to threaten and insult him, though, that IS my business, you know? I tend to be very protective towards my ex-lovers!"

No answer.

"So, all I'm saying, you cheap little piece of shit, is, that if you ever dare to do anything like that again, or dare to hurt Brian in ANY way, or even dare to think about hurting or badmouthing him, you'll have one hell of a time running away from me for the rest of your sad life, do you hear me?"

Silence.

"I said, DO YOU HEAR ME?"

"Yeah." Christian's voice was very meek and almost sheepish.

"Good."

"Stef?"

"What else, you sad excuse for a friend?"

"I didn't know you were gay..."

Stefan felt like being punched in the stomach. "Uh... yeah. Well, I didn't know YOU were, so I guess we're even."

Pause. "Anything else?" Christian finally asked with a weak voice.

Stefan almost pitied him. "Should there be anything else?"

Christian sighed exhaustedly. "Look, Stef, I was totally drunk last night and I got a friend of mine here who's just been left by his girlfriend and who insists on watching the Nancy Boy video and tells me how great he thinks you guys are, so I guess I lost it. I'm sorry."

"Tell Brian."

Christian laughed bitterly. "I would, but he certainly won't call me."

Stefan didn't know what to answer, since Chris was absolutely right about that. "Just - just forget about what happened the other night, Chris. Bri was drunk, that was the only reason he let you fuck him." Stefan could almost see Christian squirming at that. "Just consider it to be some nice fun you had and forget it."

A small moment of silence. "I can't," Christian said helplessly.

Now it was Stefan's turn to remain silent.

"I - oh, dammit," Christian muttered. If Stefan wasn't mishearing, he was choking back tears. "I can't just forget it. Him. I can't."

Stefan sighed. Now he DID pity him. "You know, Chris, if you'd just called him to say something NICE to him, maybe you would have increased your chances, but things being as they are now -"

"I know!" Christian bellowed hoarsely. "There's no need for rubbing salt into it, okay?"

"Sorry," Stefan answered and meant it. "But I mean it. Brian's a heartbreaker anyway and he's had his share of guys abusing him, and I'm very certain he doesn't want to start with that again. So face it, Chris, you probably won't get near him again - ever. I know he's quite enticing," he smiled at himself, remembering the small 'slip of actions' last night, "but he's also very annoying at times. Consider yourself lucky you're allowed to keep your sanity."

"C-can... can we meet?"

Another blow into Stefan's stomach. He felt himself getting pale. Meet Christian? And then what... ? He had a very distinct idea about then what...

"I - I really don't think so, Chris," he forced himself to say, feeling strong regret, "I'm a very loyal person, you know?"

"Yes." Hard swallow on the other end of the line. "I know. And loyalties towards your ex-lover/bandmate/friend are of course more important that loyalties towards old schoolmates." No sarcasm there, only sadness.

Stefan wanted to scream. This was unfair! This was a totally unfair situation!

"Stef?"

"Yeah." He cleared his voice. "You know... just... I don't know... let things rest for a little while. Give - give us time to get over this bullshit. Okay?"

"And then?" Christian asked hopefully.

"And then... I don't know. We'll see."

"Will you call me?"

Stefan hesitated. "Yes," he said then, "might take some time, though."

"That's okay."

"Okay."

Silence.

"Well," Christian said then, "I guess it's good bye then, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess. See you, Chris."

"Take care. And tell Brian I'm sorry." A bitter laugh. "Tell him he shouldn't be surprised, after all he's trying to turn people's heads so he shouldn't be confused when he succeeds..."

"I'm sure he'll accept the apology in some months or years," Stefan cut him off before he had to hear anything resembling insults.

"Oh."

"He doesn't forgive easily. But anyway, Chris - I'll call you. Promise."

"Thanks, Stef.

"Bye."

"Bye."

Stefan hung up the phone and leaned back, then he jumped slightly as he saw Brian standing in front of the TV, wearing only an oversized T-shirt and looking very sleepy. "Uh - morning, Bri..."

"Good morning, Stef."

Stefan felt he was blushing. "I just -"

"Called Christian?" Brian finished the sentence.

"Yes. I told him if he ever tries to do something like that again, he'll have to collect his guts from different places all over Britain. And he asked me to tell you that he was drunk and depressed and that he's sorry."

"Hmpf." Brian sat down next to Stef and leaned against him. "How did you get his number?"

"There's a magnificent invention called 'phone book', you know?" Stefan smirked.

Brian stared at him. "I have a phone book?"

"It's the big book your telephone rests on."

Brian blinked. "Oh."

Stefan hugged him. "Feeling better, honey?"

"Uh-huh. Sort of." He snuggled against the tall man.

"Don't worry about Chris. He's just - you know. Upset. Sad. Devastated. Enthralled by a very cute ladyboy..."

"Let's stop talking about Christian."

"Okay."

Brian freed himself from the embrace. "Hey, wanna hear some of the stuff I wrote last night?"

"Sure."

"I'm warning you, it's not Nancy Boy or Bruise Pristine at all. Very calm. Depressive."

"I think I can handle it," Stefan declared.

Brian threw him one of his rare open smiles and hurried away to silently steal the guitar out of his room without waking Steve.