WARNING: This story contains sexual content. Proceed with caution.

PART III

Eddie and I strolled out of Cafe Lazeez hand in hand. I felt better about the whole thing, and I thought Eddie did too. I hoped he did. I thought I'd gotten through to him. Maybe I'd been cruel or too brazen about the whole situation. To me, Eddie seemed delicate and vulnerable. I didn't want to hurt him but felt I had to be honest. This wasn't just some little thing. I wasn't about to toy with someone's feelings, least of all Eddie's. Truth was, I did love Eddie. And I was certain he loved me too. I had never known him to lie, especially about something as important as this was. But what was I going to do? I still had that damn plane ticket and only had two weeks to decide basically where I would be for at least the next several years, if not the rest of my life.

"So, what is it that you were going to show me," Eddie asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"Oh, yeah," I said. "Just a few yards up the road, right there." I pointed across the street to a big blue sign, reading "De Lane Lea".

"What's that," he asked.

"De Lane Lea studio. Where Queen recorded their first demos."

He grinned. "No shit?"

"No shit. When I was first here, and we ate at Lazeez, we came from the other way, and happened to run into that studio. I've got pictures of me in front of it, in fact. So I saw the studio, had fabulous Indian food, and then saw 'We Will Rock You'. Had a brilliant time."

"Sounds like it." We came to the studio. "Think we can go in?"

"I don't know. You're the man with the plan... let's try it out." He shrugged and opened the door for me. I walked in and looked round as Eddie stepped in behind me. There was nobody in the front room, so Eddie and I wandered around, looking at all the gold and platinum records on the walls.

"This is so cool," I whispered. "I've never been in a real studio before. I want my platinum album to be on a wall like this."

"Big dreams. I'm sure you can do it."

"Excuse me," said a voice behind us. Eddie and I turned round to see a tall, thin man in a fedora. "Can I help the two of you?"

"We were just looking around," I said.

"Sorry, are we not supposed to be here," Eddie asked.

"No, that's fine. What, exactly, is your interest in this studio?"

"Well," said Eddie, "Demian here says this is where Queen recorded their first demos. And since we're both big fans we thought we'd have a look."

"Ah, I see."

"And, Demian is looking for a career in music. We were interested in your facilities as a possible recording venue for him."

"Hmm. Well, we're taking in new clients all the time. If you're interested, here's my card. Give me a call. We might be able to help you out," the man said. He flipped out a business card and handed it to me.

"Thanks," I said, taking the card and slipping it in my wallet.

"Thanks very much," Eddie said. "We will be seeing great things from Demian." He took my hand. "Well, we'd better be going."

"Speak to you soon," the man said. We nodded goodbye and walked back out of the studio.

"Thanks, Eddie," I said as we made our way back out onto the street.

"Nothing to it, dear. Now let's get back home. I've got something I want to show you."

* * *

A short tube ride and quick walk later, we arrived back at Eddie's house. He led me in and sat me on the couch.

"Now, stay here. I'll be right back." He disappeared upstairs and returned a few minutes later with a guitar case in his hand. He set the case down on the coffee table, opened it up, and handed me an absolutely gorgeous black Ovation acoustic guitar.

"My God, Eddie, this is beautiful." He smiled, and then reached into the case for a new pack of strings.

"The strings probably need to be changed. I haven't played this gorgeous beast for awhile." I looked at the strings. They were a bit worn and dirty. I took the pack he handed me.

"Got any wire cutters?"

He shook his head. "Sorry."

"Mmkay, how about a barbecue lighter and some poultry shears?"

"Those I've got," he said, and bounced off into the kitchen. I began loosening the low E string as he returned with my requested items. I pulled the string off and produced a new one from the packet, sticking the ball end in the bridge and looping the other end into the machine head. I twisted the peg a few times and then held the flame from the lighter up to the extra end of string, pulling on it with the other hand. Eddie watched in fascination as the winds began to unravel. I pulled on the string harder, until the wire was exposed, then used the poultry shears to clip off the hot metal. I repeated the same procedure with the fifth string then started on the fourth.

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

"I changed hundreds of strings before I got hold of some wire cutters." I yanked hard on the string and before I had the chance to clip it, it pulled apart and the white- hot tip embedded itself in my hand. "Shit shit shit!" I ripped the string out of my skin.

"My god, are you okay," Eddie asked.

"Yeah. That always happens. Good thing is, though, that the string burns the puncture closed. So, it doesn't bleed and won't get infected. It'll stop hurting in a minute."

"Maybe I should take you to hospital so you can get a tetanus shot."

"Naw, I'm up to date. Got in a nasty skateboarding accident when I was thirteen, and the shots last for ten years. No worries."

"You want me to change the rest of the strings?"

"Nope. These unwound ones just need to be cut. No unravelling involved." He nodded and I began changing last three strings. "See, the trick with this is to change one string at a time, starting with the thickest one. That way it won't warp your neck. Or, the guitar's neck, rather."

He smiled. "I see."

"And, have you got a guitar humidifier?" He shook his head. "You ought to get one. It'll keep the wood conditioned."

"Anything else?"

"Well, polish it once in awhile to keep dust out of the hardware. Other than that it looks like you've taken really good care of it." I finished changing the strings. "Can you hit an E on the piano?" Eddie wandered over to his piano and plunked down an E. "Just keep hitting it until I match the pitch, kay?" He hit the key a few times until I signaled him to stop, then tuned all the rest of the strings to the E. "Beautiful." I dug a small mint tin out of my pocket and opened it up to reveal my collection of about twenty- five different guitar picks. I tossed Eddie a small coin.

"What's this?"

"Sixpence," I informed him.

He looked at the coin. "These have been out of circulation for years! Where did you get it?"

"Ahh, the wonders of Ebay. I got a bag of fifty. You know Brian May uses these to play."

"Really?"

I nodded and pulled out another pick. "Yngwie Malmsteen pick. Pretty cool, hmm? I've got about six of them, and he's used every one of them, except the black one. I got that in a Japanese promo CD."

"Quite the collector, you are. Now, who's Yng...?"

"Yngwie Malmsteen. He's a brilliant Swedish neoclassical guitarist. Now. Any requests?" I took back the picks, putting the sixpence away.

"Erm... Just play something you wrote." I nodded and began strumming some chords. I hadn't written many songs on guitar-- even fewer with lyrics. After playing a few riffs, I just doodled around for a minute, improvising.

"I want to hear you play," I told him.

"I don't really play."

"Come on, if you've got a guitar you must at least know how to play something."

"Not really. I know a few chords but I'm not good." I handed him the guitar and pick.

"You know a C?" He nodded, and labouriously formed the chord, then strummed it. "G?" He made the chord in a slightly unorthodox way. "Good. A lot of people find that way easier. Now, A minor?" He shook his head. "Okay, put your index finger on the first fret on the second string. Okay, now your second and third fingers on the second fret of the third and fourth string." He followed my directions and strummed the chord. "Perfect. Now, an F?"

"God, that one's a pain in the arse." He struggled to play the chord, muting a few strings in the process.

"I know. I had a hell of a time with that one. But, if you can play it, then you can play a lot of Bowie stuff." He grinned. "Here," I said, and positioned his fingers carefully over the strings. "Try that." He did it, only muting one string this time. "Arch your fingers a bit more. There, now you've got it. G again. C. G. F." I waited while he formed the difficult chord again. "G. C. G. F... C. G. C. And, now you can play 'Let it Be' by the Beatles." He grinned.

"Brilliant! How?" I took the guitar and strummed out the pattern. "Oh. Okay. How am I supposed to remember the order of that?"

"Got any paper?"

"There's a pad by the phone." I wandered into the kitchen and grabbed the pad, then returned and scrawled the chord letters in order on the pad. I set the pad in front of him on the table and he began strumming the chords slowly. After he'd gone through once he grinned. "Oh, I see! Okay." He played through it again, seeming to have an easier time of it. He grinned as he played it over again. I kicked my feet up on the table and watched him. He stared at his left hand, occasionally glancing at the paper with furrowed brows to see what chord was next. He was a fast learner and before long didn't even need the chord chart. I admired how he stuck to it. He kept trying until he played it nearly up to speed with no mistakes. After about a half hour he stopped playing.

"God, my fingers are killing me!"

"You're brilliant, Eddie. That song took me twice as long to learn. It was the first song I ever played all the way through, in fact. Think you can play through it one more time?"

"Yeah, just give me a few minutes. Wouldn't want my fingers to start bleeding."

"God forbid you might get... calluses!"

"Ha! I've got the smoothest skin on the planet!"

"I know, I know... But if you want to be a good guitarist, you need to have tough fingertips. When I was playing eight hours a day I could have sliced my fingertips off and never noticed." He grimaced.

"Well, I guess I'm ready then."

"Over to the piano, Mister." Eddie pulled a strap out of his case and attached it to the strap buttons while I took a seat at the piano. I played a couple of scales to warm up and he wandered over and stood next to me at the piano. "Think you can sing and play?"

"Ha! Err, no. Piano, yeah, but not guitar."

"Okay," I said, "I'll sing. Ready?" He nodded. "Right. One, two, three, four..."

We began to play, Eddie keeping up nicely. Occasionally he'd mess up and I slowed down for him to catch up. I missed a few notes myself, having not played for a couple months. By the last verse we were both jamming along quite well. As we finished, Eddie sighed.

"That, my dear, was incredible."

"Excellent first lesson, Eds. You could be a guitarist yet." He beamed, setting down the guitar.

"Now, I'm going to get a bit of ice for my fingers."

"Ameteur!" He scoffed and went into the kitchen. After a few minutes and some clanking he returned with two vodka and tonics and a small bag of ice. He handed me a glass and I sipped some of the drink.

"Thought this might help the fingers as well. Go on and play some more if you want." I nodded and took another drink, then began to play Queen's "Who Wants to Live Forever". The alcohol loosened up my throat and I sang a little better. "Who Want to Live Forever" was one of my favourite songs and I tried my best to do it justice. As I finished, I spun round on the bench to face Eddie, who wore a solemn expression.

"Don't look so depressed."

"That was beautiful. I have no doubt you'll make an excellent musician. Well, you already are. I just hope you get the chance to show the world." I grabbed my drink and flopped next to Eddie on the couch.

"I hope so, too. Now. Playing always gives me a huge rush. You up for a little game of football?"

"Soccer, you mean?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Edward. Soccer. You're becoming an American. How disgusting."

He laughed. "Well, yes... I've got a ball somewhere round here."

"I thought two."

"Alright, you got me." He downed the rest of his drink and went in search of a ball. He returned a minute later tossing a football from hand to hand.

"Sure you can keep up with me?"

"I dunno... I'm a bit out of practise."

"Well, I've got a touch of asthma, and I smoke. So if I konk out, don't mind me. A little CPR ought to do me." He grinned.

"Hang on, I'll grab us some proper shoes." He tossed me the ball and flew up the stairs, returning a moment later with a pair of running shoes in one hand and my indoor soccer shoes in the other. We each slipped into our shoes.

"C'mon, to the backyard." We headed out his back door, and Eddie tossed the ball onto the grass. I chased after it, just a hint buzzed from the vodka.

"Come on, Eddie. Hit me with all you've got." He bolted after me. I kept my right foot planted next to the ball and, as he got within striking distance, faked him out and went left. I dribbled to the edge of the yard, closely tailed. "What are our goals?"

"To live long and prosper. Erm... How bout a friendly game of catch and chase."

"Sounds good to me." I kicked the ball between his legs and dashed round him to meet up with the ball on the other side. "Come on, come on. Keep up." I ran the ball to the other end of the yard and kicked it to him. He stopped the ball cleanly and danced around it. I took off after him and he knocked the ball out of my reach then began dribbling away from me. I ran around in front of him and stuck my foot in front of the ball, sending it between his legs and behind him. Then I pulled it back, pointing my toe so it rolled up to my ankle, tapped it up in the air, kneed it, then kicked it high in the air back to Eddie. He caught the ball in his chest, let it roll down to his knee, then kicked it back to me.

"You've got mad skills, man," he said in a bad American accent.

"Yeah? Check this out," I announced. I let the ball rest on the ground, then, taking a jogging start, stepped in front of it with my right leg. I let my left foot drag the ball up the back of my right calf, then let the ball drop and hit it with my heel. The ball flew over my head and, after a bounce, I kicked it with my left foot back to Eddie-- all in one smooth motion.

"Brilliant," he called, stopping the ball. "I can do that, too." He performed the same trick with more fluidity and skill. The ball went high in the air and I backed up quickly to catch it on the forehead. I drilled it to the ground and charged Eddie. I ran past him, leaving the ball behind. He took it and ran the other way. As he crossed the yard, I put my hands on my knees to catch my breath for a few seconds.

"I could never be a footballer," I called. "I tire too easily." With that I charged him again. Approaching him, I tucked back my left knee and slid, knocking the ball back between his legs again. Using my momentum, I stood up again, inches from him. He stopped, a bit shocked and out of breath.

"You play dirty!"

"Did I mention I used to play baseball? I think I've got my sports mixed up." He inhaled deeply, then went and picked up the ball.

"Were you ever on a football team?"

I shook my head. "Never really got into it. I played in elementary school with the guys, but they were all on teams so I wasn't considered to be very good."

"Work on your stamina and you could be an excellent player."

"You really think so?" He nodded and tossed me the ball. I spun it on my finger then let it roll on the inside of my arm, across my chest and left arm, then caught it in one hand.

"You play basketball, too?"

"When I was eight I was on a team. I was horrible."

He grinned. "Seems you do a bit of everything, kiddo."

I dropped the ball and tapped it to him. "Let's just pass it around. I'm pretty beat already." True, we'd only been playing for five minutes or so but my lungs were about to either collapse or explode-- I wasn't sure which. We knocked the ball around for about half an hour or so before Eddie picked it up and headed towards me.

"I think that's enough for today. Yeah?"

"Yup. I am dead." We trudged back inside and I tossed myself onto the couch. Eddie headed off back into the kitchen.

"Care for a drink?" I got up and went into the kitchen.

"Yeah. What have you got?"

"Errr... Water, coke, diet coke, tea, coffee, orange juice, any kind of alcohol you could ever want..."

"I'll have a coke then. Warm if you've got it." He eyed me, puzzled. "Toothaches." He nodded and dug round in a cabinet, producing a nice, room- temperature can of coke. I popped the top and chugged the whole can.

"Wow. You ever enter chugging contests?" I shook my head.

"No, but I am a champion Jell-o slurper, five years in a row."

"What was the prize?"

"A Twizzler." He laughed and got me another can of soda, also grabbing himself a cold diet coke. "You're such a girl. Diet coke..."

"Hey, I'm on a diet."

"You're looking damn good, you know."

"If I want to keep looking this good I need to stay on a diet."

"Ahh. I see." We headed off back into the living room and sat down. Just then my leg began aching. "Shit."

"What?"

"Oh, just this recurring pain in my right calf. If I overwork the muscle or restrict blood flow it hurts. It's done this for about five or six years and I have no idea why."

"Would you like me to rub it?"

"Naw, that'd make it worse. I should be fine in a few minutes. If not, I'll just pop an ibuprofin and I should be dandy." He nodded.

"So. Whatcha wanna do?" I shrugged.

"I just wanna be with you."

Eddie grinned. "Can we kiss," he asked cutely. I nodded. He leaned in and attached his lips to mine, softly tasting my tongue. He caressed the back of my neck, then ran his hands down my shoulders and onto my chest, squeezing softly. My skin tingled at his touch and I rested my hands on his waist, pushing him down onto the cushions. I followed him down, laying on top of him. "Ooh, feeling a bit frisky, are we?"

"Shut up and kiss me." He obeyed my command and began nibbling my neck, getting more insistent with each passing second. When he was satisfied that he'd done a thorough job of my neck, he returned to my mouth at full force. He took my tongue in his mouth and sucked on it. After a moment, I broke away. "Ooh, that's niiiiice. Do it again." He did, this time with more assertiveness. He growled as he did it, sending gentle vibrations through my mouth. I pulled my tongue back in, so as not to get a cramp, and attacked his lips. After awhile, we both slowed down. Or, he did and I followed suit. With one last kiss he stopped and pulled my head onto his shoulder.

"I love being here with you, Demian." He kissed the side of my neck.

"I love you." I ran my fingers through his spikey hair. "Tomorrow I want to do something for you. Do you think you could busy yourself in town for a few hours?"

"Yeah. I've actually got a meeting with my agent at one, across town. Then I'll just do a bit of shopping and stuff. If I take you to your therapy at noon, can you find your way back here on a tube?"

"Yup," I said.

"Just phone me if you have any trouble." I nodded and closed my eyes, suddenly exhausted. "Demian?" I pried my eyes open. "You tired?"

"Yeah."

"Wanna take a nap on my bed?" I nodded. "C'mon, get up." I slowly stood up and Eddie took my hand, leading me up to his room. I sat down on the bed and Eddie pulled my shoes off and laid me down. He then proceeded to unbutton my jeans and pull them off, leaving my shirt on. He pulled a blanket over me and lay down next to me on the bed, running his fingers over my arm till I fell asleep.

* * *

Eddie tapped on my shoulder awhile later. I felt it, but didn't recognise why I was being tapped on. He spoke my name and I slowly woke up.

"Are you okay," he asked. I blinked.

"Um, yeah." I had a slightly haunting feeling, like after you wake up from a nightmare and can't remember what it was about.

"I just had this feeling like I should wake you up. You have a bad dream or something?"

"I think so but I can't remember it."

"Okay. Well, I've got some food for ya downstairs. Do you want me to bring it up or can you come down? If you're not hungry you can go back to sleep." I was still drowsy and my body took over.

"Em, I'll be down in a minute." Eddie patted my knee and left the room. I sat up and shook my head. I still felt nervous for some reason. The room was dim, so I got up and flipped on a light, then went and used the toilet. I didn't look in the mirror. When I was feeling a bit nervous, mirrors had an oddly terrifying effect. I rummaged through one of Eddie's drawers, pulled out a pair of shorts and put them on, then headed downstairs carefully, holding onto the handrail. I smelled pizza as I wandered into the kitchen. Eddie had apparently ordered one, because a medium pizza box was open on the counter. Eddie was pulling out a couple of plates from a cabinet.

"I didn't know what you liked, so I just got cheese. That okay?" I nodded and sat down on a barstool. "How you feeling?"

"Not too bad. Really sleepy for some reason. Did you slip me a Mickey or something?" He chuckled.

"No. Why would I want to do that?" I shrugged as Eddie slid a slice of pizza onto my plate and set it down under my nose. He sat down next to me and I took a bite of pizza. I set the pizza down and rolled up my sleeves. Eddie peered over at my arms. "Those scars," he asked. "Are they old?"

"Mostly." Scars littered my body from various accidents and injuries. "I was accident- prone as a kid. Concussions, stitches, cuts, scrapes, chipped teeth... You name it."

"Do you have a cat?" I shook my head.

"Why?"

"Looks like you've got lots of scratches." I looked down at my right arm.

"Well, Bobby's got cats. And..."

"What," he prodded.

"I used to slash myself up with a razor to look tougher. Kind of stupid, I know. Not deep, just enough to look like I had a run- in with a thorny bush or something."

"You ever open up cuts when they're healing?" He seemed morbidly excited.

"Yeah. I pick at all my scabs and stuff. Dunno why. Check this out." I exposed my inner elbow. "I look like a heroin addict or something." That area of my arms was covered in needle marks. "Blood tests. I've had them regularly since I was eleven."

"Why?"

"Thyroid. I was one diseased kid." He giggled. "Also, I've broken my fingers thirteen times."

"My God! Doing what?"

"First time I was playing soccer. Next three times I was ice skating. Other than that, breakdancing, basketball... Caught a badly- thrown baseball. All that stuff. I should just not play sports."

"You breakdance?" I nodded.

"Well, I used to. I got fairly decent at it but mostly gave it up after I dislocated my shoulder." He sucked in some air through his teeth.

"Yeah, I think you're better off in a padded room." I nodded and chewed some pizza. I popped the can of coke Eddie had set on the counter and took a sip. I was feeling quite a bit more awake at this point.

"You know the good thing about all these bruises I've got now?"

"What?"

"It nicely disguises the huge hickey you've given me." He laughed. "What about you? Any remarkable injuries?"

"Caught one in the face with a rugby boot."

"Ouch!"

"I've got about as bad a record as you have. So... tell me something else about yourself."

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "Anything."

"I, em... like Mike Myers?" He laughed.

"Was that a big secret?"

"No... Erm... I have a phobia of plumbing."

"Seriously?" I nodded. "This is fascinating. What else?"

"Slurpees make me vomit. Erm... I enjoy dusting and washing windows. I like the smell of petrol. I've been parasailing. Sometimes I like to go commando. I once made out with a guy that was married. I'd rather be uncomfortable than hurt someone's feelings. I own more than fifty ties. I love eating toast. I don't know how to properly accept a gift. I own a Bee Gees album. I enjoy tedious activities like writing and editing papers. And... let's see... I once had a dream that Michael Jackson was chasing me around the set of the Letterman show."

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "I had the same dream."

"No you didn't."

"Okay, so I didn't. And I've never made out with any married men." He grinned widely, then stuffed his face full of pizza. "Have you ever kissed a guy with a mouthful of pizza?"

"Actually, I have." He swallowed.

"And how was that for you?"

"Kinda gross. Nothing like getting someone else's pineapple stuck in your teeth." He groaned.

"So, you really want kids, huh?"

"Yeah," I said. "I've been begging somebody to let me adopt my cousins. I'm their favourite."

"Of course you are."

"No, really it's cos I take them to see films and eat at McDonalds and I never seem to run out of piggyback rides. Even for the nine- year- old."

"Eep. Do you have a lot of back problems?"

"Not really but I probably will in the not too distant future."

"Do you think I'd be a good father? Or, mother?"

"I think you'd be brilliant at it."

"Yeah?"

I nodded.

"Swallow."

I did. He swept me from the stool and dipped me down, giving me a passionate kiss. He let me up for air after a minute.

"What was that for?"

"I just wanted to."

"Fine with me."

"Uh- oh." Eddie flashed a devious grin.

"What?"

"My little friend is letting me know it's time for some relief."

"Jesus Christ! Well, at least we know you're not impotent!" He sneered. "I could swear with your sex drive, that you're no older than fifteen!"

"Left over from earlier, perhaps. Is that a bad thing?"

"Definitely not. You haven't got a hot tub, by any chance?"

"Unfortunately not. But the bathtub's big enough to share." I grabbed him by the waistband of his jeans and pulled him up the stairs.

We dashed into Eddie's bedroom. He dug through the nightstand for a minute while I went into the bathroom and turned on the tub faucet. He came into the bathroom, panting, and rummaged through a drawer, producing some bubble bath and oil beads. "Yummy," he said, dropping several beads into the water, then pouring in a generous amount of foam. I undid a few buttons on my shirt, then yanked it off over my head. I finished stripping as Eddie ripped his clothes off, leaving them in a heap on the floor. As he removed his little Calvins, I grinned and grabbed a bath bead off the counter. I grinned at Eddie and crushed it in my hands Rubbing the oil over Eddie's chest, I pushed him against the counter, then wrapped my arms around him, getting oil on myself as well. I looked over his shoulder into the mirror and admired his perfectly round little butt. I couldn't resist grabbing it as he locked his lips to mine, walking me back towards the tub. I turned round and stepped into the hot water, slowly lowering myself in. Eddie got in and knelt above me, grabbing the detatchable faucet and turning it on. He sprayed my hair back and ran the pulsating water all over me until the tub was full to the right point. Then he set shut off the water and stuck the faucet back in its holder, bending over me to deliver sweet kisses and let his hands have free run of my body. He rose up from the water a bit, and suds clung cutely to his chest and arms. He pressed a button and jets began pounding inside the tub.

Seeing as Eddie was above me for the time being, I sat up a bit and kissed his neck roughly. He relaxed and I bit his shoulder.

"Mmmmmm," he uttered, closing his eyes. Oh, you like that, do you, I thought. I pushed him into a sitting position, leaned forward, and brushed all the suds off his chest, then lay into him, scraping my teeth against his smooth skin, nibbling and sucking gently in convenient places. He was visibly trembling, so I teased him for only a moment longer before relenting and letting him push me against the back of the tub.

* * *

Eddie and I had switched positions as we lay in the warm water recovering. He relaxed against the back of the tub and I lay on top of him, feeling my back press against his silky chest. My head was next to his, resting on a folded towel at the back of the tub. My hands rested on top of his, which were clasped over my stomach. We stayed there until the water cooled down to the point where it was uncomfortable. Then, without a word, Eddie unclasped his hands and I stood to get out of the tub. He followed me out, grabbing a towel, and began drying me off, from head to toe. I took the towel and did the same for him. He took my hand and led me into the bedroom. We both crawled into bed, snuggled up to each other, and went to sleep.

* * *

"Oh, fuck me!" Interesting way to be woken up. "Demian, get up." My eyes shot open.

"What?"

"We're late. Come on." Eddie was dashing around the room, struggling to get into a pair of black slacks. He hopped around the room with one leg in his trousers, trying to stick his other leg in. I sat up and looked at the clock. It was twelve fifteen. Aww, damn.

"Eddie. Eddie, hold on." He zipped up his trousers and flew through the closet to find a shirt.

"What?" He peeked out of the closet, on arm in a sleeve. "Come on..."

"Look, you just go. I'll be fine if I miss a day. Take your time." He slid his other arm into the shirt and stuffed his feet into a pair of shoes.

"You sure," he asked. I went over to him and began tying his shoes while he buttoned his shirt.

"Yeah. If you take me you'll be late. I'm late anyway. Don't worry." He nodded.

"Okay. Tie. I need a tie." I went into the closet and found a tie that matched his shirt. Eddie grabbed a set of cufflinks off his wardrobe and began fumbling to stick them into his cuffs. I flipped his collar up and swung the tie around his neck and began tying it up. He fidgeted.

"Hold still. Relax." I held one end of the tie and flipped the other end around, then tightened it up, straightened it, and folded his collar back down. He was still trying to fix his right cufflink. I took his wrist in my hand and fitted the post through the holes, then folded it down. "What else?"

"Belt and jacket." I returned to the closet and found a black belt and the jacket that matched his trousers. I tossed Eddie the jacket and began fitting the belt through the loops as Eddie slipped into the jacket. I did up the buckle and buttoned his jacket.

"That all?"

"Yeah."

"You gonna be on time?"

"If I leave within five minutes I will be. How's the hair? Fuck it. I've gotta go." He walked briskly out of the bedroom.

"Eddie," I called. He turned round.

"Don't sweat it, hon. You'll do fine. Relax, and be safe. Okay?"

He breathed in deeply. "Okay. Hey, listen... Thanks." He disappeared down the stairs a bit more slowly. I flopped back down on the bed. God, Eddie... I wondered why that particular meeting was so important. Eddie in a tie? It had to be big. I didn't even know he owned a tie. And what of the surprise I had planned? Hmmm. Well, if the meeting goes badly he won't be in any mood for what I've got planned. And if it goes well he might want to do his own thing. Maybe I should wait till tomorrow. I went over to the dresser and looked through the drawers, finding I had very few clean clothes left. In fact, just a bra, boxer shorts with hearts on them, and a t- shirt.

"Guess I'll have to do some laundry in the next couple days," I said to nobody in particular. I went into the bathroom and found the pile of my clothes, with my willie sitting on top. I hadn't put it back on the night before. I slipped the harness on and grabbed up my clothes, putting them in a pile of laundry Eddie kept in the corner of his room. "Well, Eddie... Hope you don't mind if I raid your wardrobe..." Just then my mobile phone rang. I dug it out of the pocket of the jeans I had tossed on the floor and answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's just me," Eddie said.

"Oh, good."

"Well, I'm almost to my meeting. Looks like I'll be on time. I called the hospital and told them you wouldn't be able to make it."

"Oh. Thanks."

"No problem."

"Oh, Eddie?"

"Yeah."

"You mind if I borrow some clothes? I'm out of clean ones."

"Go right on ahead. Hey, listen. I'll call you after I get out of the meeting. Should be a couple hours. I gotta go. Love you." He hung up.

"O- kay," I thought aloud. "Hmmm. Guess I'll just get my shit done just in case. If it doesn't work out for today, I can just do it another day." Okay, so I had a strange habit of talking to myself out loud. "Couple hours. Hopefully that'll give me enough time." I headed into Eddie's closet and had a look around. I recognised a lot of the clothes as I'd seen him wearing the majority of them. "Ooh, this'll be fun." Hung up around the closet were PVC trousers, leggings, suits, and a host of jackets and shirts he'd worn in various videos, interviews, etc. "What to wear..." After some quick thinking, I grabbed a pair of very nice faded jeans, black dress shirt, and black pinstripe jacket, tossed them on the bed, and went in search of some socks and underpants. I dug around in his wardrobe and found, along with a very comprehensive collection of what my mum called "Stroke mags," some socks and a nice pile of Calvins. I plucked a pair of socks and underwear, each black, from the drawer, and tossed them on the bed with the rest of the clothes. I grabbed one of my own black sport bras from the dresser, as any of Eddie's would have been too big. Luckily, Eddie and I were about the same size (I was just two inches taller), so his clothes would all fit pretty well. I threw on the underwear and jeans quickly, then went to brush my teeth and fix my hair. After finishing in the bathroom, I pulled on the shirt and jacket, slipped in my cufflinks, and grabbed my phone and wallet. I headed downstairs and stepped into my shoes, then went to the front door. On it was a note scribbled hurriedly by Eddie.

"Lock up if you leave, please. There is a spare key for you on the counter." I dashed into the kitchen and saw a key, and a pocket knife, along with another note. This one read,

"Take the knife. And check your wallet." I grabbed the key and knife and dashed out the front door, pulling my wallet out of my pocket on my way out. In it, folded up in front of my cash, were several £100 bills and another note from Eddie.

"Use what you need and keep the rest." I pulled out my phone and dialed Cornelius. After a few rings he answered.

"Hello?"

"Con, hey! It's me." I walked briskly toward the closest tube station.

"Courts! How are you?"

"I'm good, good... Listen, are you busy?"

"Nope."

"You think you can meet me somewhere and help me shop?"

"Help you shop? From what I remember you seem to do pretty well on your own."

"Well, I might need some help carrying things. That and, I don't know where to go."

"Alright, where are you?"

"Just heading towards Notting Hill Gate."

"I can meet you at... Picadilly in a few minutes. Know how to get there?"

"Yeah."

"We'll meet up there and then I'll help you around."

"Okay, thanks, Con."

"See you in a few."

* * *

Con walked me back to Eddie's door about two hours later. We each carried a few various shopping bags. I reached into my pocket and grabbed Eddie's key, unlocked the door, and wandered in, followed by Con. He kicked the door shut and followed me in.

"Where would you like these," he asked.

"Just set them in the kitchen. I've got to stash this stuff somewhere, just in case." I'd already explained Eddie's little episode that morning. I dashed up the stairs and stuffed the bags in the spare bedroom, then bounced back downstairs. "Okay, now I've just got to wait for Eddie to call. You wanna hang out here, or do you have to be somewhere?"

"I think I'll stay for a little bit, if you don't think Eddie would mind."

"Naw, he won't care. Just don't nick any of his Playboys." Con cocked an eyebrow.

"I'm not even going to ask. So, we just wait then?"

"Yup. Shouldn't be too long. He said a couple hours. So... Yeah. Want to sit down?"

"Sure," he said, and sat at the counter.

"Drink?" He nodded. "What's your poison?"

"Em, just a beer will do." I opened the fridge and pulled out a couple of beers. I slid one over to Con and found a bottle opener, then popped the caps off both bottles. I sat down next to Con and swallowed some beer. "So, what made you decide to do all this?"

"Well, he surprised me with a very romantic evening so I thought I'd return the favour. Plus, I think it'll shock the hell out of him." My phone rang. I pulled it out and answered it.

"Hello, Eddie."

"How long do you need me to stay out?" He sounded pleased with himself.

"Your meeting over?"

"Yes, and, thanks to you, it went very well."

"Not at all. I'm sure you were just your charming self."

"You do your shopping?"

"What shopping?" I said casually, and took a sip of beer.

"Shall I come straight home, then?"

"Why don't you hang out for a bit. Get a snack. How about I see you in two hours."

"Alright. See you then. Love you."

"Love you, too. Bye."

"Bye." We both hung up. Con took a swig of his beer.

"Well, it's still on."

"I guess I'd better be going," he said.

"At least finish your drink. I need to get everything set up, ya know?"

"Okay. Can I help?"

* * *

About an hour later, I sent Cornelius off so I could finish getting ready. He gave me a hug and kiss and headed out the door.

"Hey, Con. Call me sometime before I leave, okay?"

"You're still leaving?" I still hadn't quite decided, but even if I did decide to stay, I needed to go home first.

"Yeah. I'm still leaving. But I'll be back."

"Okay. I'll see you later." He headed off down the street and I ran inside to get ready.

* * *

"Hello?" I picked up my mobile.

"I'm here," Eddie said. "Can I come in?"

"Yup." He hung up and I heard the the door open. Shit, am I ready for this? I was nervous as hell. I stayed hidden in the downstairs bathroom. Eddie came in whistling. I heard him step into the living room and stop, presumably, to pick up a note I had left on the table. He read it aloud, speaking loudly so I could hear him.

"'Go up to the bedroom, close the door, and look for another note.' Hmm. Guess I'd better go upstairs then." He clumped up the stairs, into the bedroom, and closed the door. I crept out of the bathroom and up the stairs, standing next to the bedroom door. I could picture him in there, reading the note on the bed. Carefully following my instructions, he would go into the bathroom and close the door (I heard it click shut). Obeying my next note (I had written on the mirror in dry- erase pen), he would put on the clothes folded on the counter: black satin knickers and bra; very short, tight black leather miniskirt; slinky black top; sheer, slightly glittery tights; and knee- high stiletto boots. Then he would put on the makeup I'd bought: dark silvery eyeshadow and dark plum lipstick, eyeliner, and blush. After a moment I cracked the bedroom door and saw that he was still in the bathroom. I taped a blue envelope onto the inside of the door and silently closed it again, then made of trail of rose petals from the bedroom door to the spare bedroom, and up to the bed. Then I went and sat in front of Eddie's bedroom door and waited for my signal. After a half hour or so, I heard the toilet flush and dashed into the hall closet. In another minute, the door opened and Eddie walked out, crossed the hall, and headed into the spare bedroom.

After I heard the door close I ducked out of the closet and made my way down the hall to the spare room. Swallowing hard, I put on my smouldering look and threw open the door. Eddie was standing facing the wall as instructed. I strutted over to him and put my hands on my hips. He looked incredible, even from the back. His calves looked amazing even wrapped tightly in leather. I collected myself before speaking.

"Hands against the wall." Eddie instantly obeyed and pressed his palms against the wall, shoulder- width, above his head. "Spread 'em," I continued, kicking his legs apart.

"Mmmmm."

"No talking." He started to turn his head. "And don't move. I'm gonna have to pat you down. Do you have any weapons or illegal substances on your person?"

"Just one weapon. And it's fully loaded."

"Where is it located, Mr. Izzard?"

"Small joke, officer."

"I see. Do you find this situation funny?" He shook his head.

"No, Sir."

"That's ma'am to you, Mr. Izzard." He smiled. "Wipe that grin off your face." He donned a serious expression as I began to pat down his chest. I felt his falsies under his top. "What is this, Sir?"

"Those are my breasts."

"You're not hiding anything in them, are you?"

"No."

"I'll trust you on that." I moved my hands down to his stomach and felt around to his back, then patted down his waist and hips. I reached up under his skirt and felt between his legs, then felt his boots. "Okay, you're clean. I'm afraid I'll still have to take you in for some further examination. Please put your hands behind your head." He obeyed, and I took one hand behind his waist, pulling a set of handcuffs out from my waistband. I snapped one around his wrist, then pulled down his other hand and cuffed it, too. "Now, I hear you're quite the trickster. Any attempt to escape will get you a severe punishment."

"I like the sound of that."

"I said no talking. Now turn around." I backed up a few steps as he turned slowly to face me. His eyes were closed. I took a mental picture of him. He was gorgeous, his eyelashes brushing against his cheek. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes slowly. As he saw me, his jaw dropped. He looked me up and down, swallowing hard. I looked good, if I say so myself. I was wearing a silk mini, tight corset, thigh- high fishnets, and three- inch chunky heeled boots (no way I could've walked in stilettos). My makeup matched Eddie's, but wasn't done quite so expertly. I was uncomfortable as hell, but for Eddie...

"Oh, my God," he whispered.

"Do you like it?" He nodded silently. I stepped up to him, giving him a sweet kiss. "You look... Amazing. I love you."

"I love you too. God I love you."

"Have I ever told you that I would do anything for you?"

"Dear, I think you've just proved it. How do you feel?"

"Honestly? Em... A little turned on."

"When was the last time you dressed like this?"

"At least two years. But then, it was for fun." He nodded. I leaned in and kissed his neck. Eddie tilted his head back as I took his earlobe in my mouth and skillfully removed his earring with my teeth, then stuck the post back in. I took the ring out of my mouth and showed him. He gulped.

"I had no idea how... Skilled... you were with your tongue." I took his other earring out (with my fingers this time) and whispered in his ear.

"You want me to show you a few more tricks?" He nodded mutely and I set the earrings on a nearby nightstand. I grabbed a handkerchief off the stand and wiped off my lipstick. Strutting back over to him, I wiped off his lipstick as well, and tossed the handkerchief on the floor. I felt up his stomach to his chest and squeezed his breasts softly, locking my lips to his, and gave him some of my best stuff. He struggled to free his hands from the cuffs and, in under a minute, succeeded and wrapped his arms around me. I pulled away from a minute.

"Damn you're quick."

"Shoulda gone for the padlocked straightjacket approach."

"Then I couldn't do this," I said, feeling him up again. He shivered, gasping lightly. Enough playing around for now. Sticking two fingers in his waistband, I dragged him over to the bed and shoved him down. "Stay," I commanded. He crossed his arms behind his head and watched me intently. I headed toward a small cooler in the corner and bent down from the waist, giving Eddie an eyeful. I picked up the cooler and brought it to the bed.

"Mmm. What's all this, now?"

"Just stuff to make you even yummier." He got a devilish sparkle in his eyes as I pulled out a can of whipped cream. Spinning it around one finger, I told Eddie to remove his shirt. He sat up for a moment to take it off, then laid back on the bed. His ribs stuck out, causing his waist to look even smaller than it was. I sprayed a line of whipped cream from where his ribs came together to just above his waistline then dropped the can back in the cooler and had at Eddie. Beginning up by his ribs, I licked and sucked the whipped cream off, a few inches at a time. He sucked in air between his teeth as I hit a sensitive spot. Noting this, I spent a little extra time there before finishing up and sitting on the edge of the bed. Reaching into the cooler again, I took an ice cube and placed it in my mouth for several seconds, then spat the rest out. I propped myself over Eddie and attacked his lips. I kissed him until my mouth was as hot as his again, then pulled back.

"Your turn." Eddie sat up and leaned forward seductively, then took a sidelong glance into the cooler. In it, I had packed some fruit, chocolate syrup, and a bottle of rum.

"Ohhh, I like this idea." He plucked out the bottle of rum, unscrewed the cap, and pulled open all the hooks on my corset. He pushed me down into a laying position and drizzled the rum over my skin, set the bottle on the floor, and began lapping up the alcohol. Most of it pooled up but a few drops ran down my sides. Eddie dragged his tongue across my waist, catching the spills before licking up the pool of rum in the centre of my belly. When his body shot was finished, he snatched up the bottle of chocolate syrup and squirted a generous portion into his mouth, which he clamped to mine. After a few seconds he paused so we could both swallow, then re- attached himself until all the chocolate was gone. I swallowed again and waited for what was next.

Eddie reached into the cooler and pulled out an ice cube. He just looked at me for a minute, a cute grin playing across his face, and then began to slide the ice all over my upper body, following the cold trail with his tongue. Interesting technique, but-- very nice. When the ice was all melted away, he reached into the cooler again and pulled out a maraschino cherry, placing it between his teeth with the stem in his mouth. He leaned over me, bringing his mouth close to mine. I took the cherry in my own teeth and he released it, clamping the stem between his teeth. While I chewed the cherry, he worked his tongue, pulling out the stem in a tight knot.

"Ooh, very nice," I purred. "Wanna, em, work your magic elsewhere?"

"God, yes."

* * *

Eddie rolled off of me and turned away. It was so sudden that I couldn't quite understand what had happened. He lay on his side, face buried in a pillow. I puzzled for a moment, sitting up.

"Eddie, are you okay?" He nodded silently, and after a few seconds his shoulders began to shake with his rough breathing. I couldn't imagine what had happened. I wrapped my arms around him, kissing his shoulder. "What's wrong?" He began to sob audibly, and rolled over onto his stomach, keeping his face turned from me. What did I do to him? And what do I do now? "Eddie, come on. Talk to me. Did I do anything wrong?" He slowly sat up, legs off the edge of the bed. I moved to sit next to him.

"No, honey. It's just..." He trailed off, unable to complete the sentence. I put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into me. He buried his head in my shoulder and cried. "You... Could never..."

"Shhhh. It's okay. Calm down, baby." I ran my fingers through his hair, trying to comfort him. I was beyond confused. We had been having a fun time; there was no indication as to what had upset Eddie. "I'm gonna get you some water. I'll be right back, okay?" He nodded, and I stood up and left the room. I darted into his bedroom to grab a bathrobe, then, pulling it on, went down to the kitchen. I returned to the bedroom a minute later with a glass of cold water for Eddie. He sat in the same position I'd left him in, and had calmed down to the point where he could speak. As I came in, he looked at me with pain and pleading in his eyes. I rushed over to him and handed him the water, which he gulped down in one long draw. I knelt down in front of him and he slid off the bed, taking a sheet with him, and wrapped himself around me.

"Just... Hold me," he whispered. I did. I couldn't help it. I didn't prod, just held him tightly, letting him catch his breath. "You're leaving me," he finally said in a scared voice just above a whisper.

"Oh, Eddie..." I couldn't respond. Was I leaving? If I did, I wouldn't be leaving him. I would be returning to my family, school, and work. On the other hand, Eddie meant more to me than school and work, and it was about time I moved out, away from my family. I couldn't depend on them forever.

"I know we've already discussed this, honey, but..." He looked up at me. "It just hit me, you know? And, after what you've done for me tonight, I don't know if I can stand to see you go, even for a minute. How can I give up someone I love so much?" Tears spilled from his eyes. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. It sounds incredibly selfish, but the girls I've dated before were just... To keep me from being alone. You're indispensible. I don't care what I have to do to keep you, but I am willing to do anything. And that scares me."

"I told you, Eddie. I don't want to cause any problems for you, or make your life more complicated. But... I'm also willing to do anything to make you happy."

"Then why is it so hard for you to say you'll stay with me? It can't have anything to do with your career or anything, can it?"

"No. Not any more. I guess what I'm afraid of is that while you'd be happy with me, after awhile the pressure of everything would make you miserable."

"Yeah, but if I'm not with you I'll be miserable whether the press is favourable or not."

"I never thought about it that way."

"I know. I can see that, well... You have this idea of me being some sort of predator who takes advantage of people and then loses them."

"I never thought that, Eddie."

"Okay... I have done that though. Not meaning to. I've had my share of one night stands."

"I know. And I know you feel bad about it, and that you couldn't really help it at the time."

"How is it you understand me so well?" I thought about the dreams I'd had about Eddie.

"I don't know. Karmic connection? I just don't know." Should I tell him? "I just know you. I can't explain it. I just think we're connected somehow, that we seem to understand each other."

"I know. It scares me sometimes... I'll look into your eyes and feel that I know what you're thinking."

"I feel the same way about you. It's almost like I'm scared to know what you're thinking. I don't want to invade your thoughts, but I also want to know what's going on in your head."

"Yeah. That's an amazing thing, though. And I think it makes it easier for us to talk really openly."

"Eddie," I said. "You know... I remember the night of the fight. And I remember seeing you. But I didn't know who you were. I dreamed about you the entire time."

"Really," he asked with a hint of excitement in his voice.

"Yes. And in my dream we had almost this same conversation. It's odd now, because I know what's coming next."

"In your dreams, what was our relationship like?"

"Much the same. But it was more like... It was, well, not less honest, but it seemed all fun, all the time. Fairly realistic but always happy. No worries, no arguments. I'm happier with you now than I was in my dreams. You've surpassed all my expectations."

"Reality better than fantasy?" I nodded. "What was your reaction when you first saw me?" I thought hard about the question.

"I was scared that it would be different. But I wasn't expecting it to be the same. In fact, I almost hoped we'd just stay friends and I'd have a nice memory of you to take home with me. Maybe you'd remember me if we ran into each other in a few years, and then we could hang out for an evening and catch up. But I never expected this. I guess that's why it scares me."

"I see. But you went for it anyway."

"Yup. Only because you let me know that it was okay." Eddie kissed my neck.

"The thing I don't understand, though, is... You have an incredible amount of guts. I've never seen you back down from anything. You seem to be perfectly comfortable doing things that would paralyse other people. It's like you've got no fear."

"I've got an incredible amount of fear. But the fear of people knowing I'm afraid outweighs the fear of the people themselves. You know what that's like. You fall prey to people easier if they know you're nervous. I hate to show weakness. I can't give into my fear. I just push it away."

"Then why can't you push this away? Ignore your fear."

"You seem to have it in your head that I've made up my mind."

"I'm just preparing for the worst."

"I always thought you were an optimist," I said with a grin. Eddie pulled the sheet more tightly around us.

"Oh, I am. Just bein' realistic."

"Heh. And I'm trying to protect you. But I guess I can't protect you from everything."

"I'm a big boy, Demian. And so are you. Tell you what. How about we protect each other, but not let that get in the way of what we both want?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Let's make it official." Eddie extended his hand and I shook it.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"You know, it's weird-- I understand you better than I understand myself. But we're so alike I guess knowing you helps me know myself. And I think... I'm ready to be myself now. I want you to call me whatever you want. You don't have to call me Demian. There's a lot of aspects to my personality, but I shouldn't exclude any of them."

"I'm proud of you. Took me years to realise that I didn't have to fit into one mould. You've got it, bud. And that means you can go anywhere. And I'm glad I might have helped you get there. I love you."

"I love you, too."

* * *

When I woke up it was dark. Eddie and I had fallen asleep at the side of the bed, still wrapped up in the same sheet. I squinted at the clock on the wall and found that it was near midnight. After thoroughly stretching my legs, I tapped Eddie's shoulder.

"Eddie?" He grunted and stretched out his legs, but didn't wake up. "Hon, let's get into bed." He was completely out. "Ohbee kaybee." I stood up and opened the door to both the spare room and Eddie's bedroom, then went to collect Eddie. I tried one more time to wake him up but he wouldn't budge. I squatted down and, placing one arm under his arms and the other behind his knees, hoisted him up and trudged into his bedroom. I set him down gently on the bed, then pulled up the covers and crawled in beside him. He stirred a bit as I wrapped my arms around him and kissed his neck.

* * *

"Courts?"

I groaned and opened my eyes. "Yeah?"

"Hon, I've got to go." Eddie was standing over me, dressed in jeans and a t- shirt. He bent down to give me a kiss.

"Where?"

"Just around. I've got a few people to meet with and stuff. I should be back in a few hours. You need me to pick up anything while I'm out?"

I thought for a minute. "No, I don't think so. I'll see you later. Have a good day, Eddie." He gave me another kiss.

"Bye, sweetie." He smiled and left the room, and I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep. After a few minutes of tossing about, I looked at the clock. It was about ten in the morning, so I decided I may as well get up. I took a long shower, then got dressed in some of Eddie's clothes and headed downstairs to grab some food.

Looking in the fridge, I found a carton of eggs and fried up a couple, then ate them smothered in steak sauce. As I took my plate and fork to the sink, I saw it was full of dirty dishes. Even though I wasn't a tidy person (and that's an understatement), I decided to clean up a bit. I washed all the dishes and put them away, then wiped up the countertops. Afterwards, I went back up to Eddie's room and finished checking my email. I answered several, mostly from friends frantically asking if I was alright. I assured them I was, but didn't mention being at Eddie's house. The only people who knew that were my family, and probably just a couple of friends-- my mum would have told one or two people I was with him, but she also would have told them to keep quiet about it. I also went to Eddie's website and posted a message that I was alright but wouldn't probably be back online until I got back home. A lot of my friends frequented the site, and I just wanted to let them know I was okay. I also told them the email address of who to contact if they needed my mobile number for some reason. I logged off and wandered downstairs to play the piano until Eddie came back. It had been about two and a half hours since he'd left, so I wasn't expecting him back. But a few minutes after I began to play, I heard the front door unlock and Eddie came storming in. I turned around and saw that he was obviously very angry. He flopped down on the couch with an annoyed sigh and slammed a magazine down on the coffee table. I approached him cautiously.

"What's wrong?" He looked up at me with a look that said "I don't want to talk about it," and pointed to the magazine.

"See for yourself." I glanced at the magazine (the Sun) and saw a large picture of Eddie and myself kissing in the tube train. I picked up the mag and read the cover.

It said "Izzy gets Bizzy."

"Interesting title," I said, flipping through the magazine to locate the story. Finding it somewhere near the middle, I saw more pictures; three were from the tube, and a two more had been taken at the restaurant. I read the captions under each of the pictures.

One taken on the tube read "Eddie and American mystery boyfriend Damien (they had spelled my name wrong, I noticed) get frisky on the tube." The picture was of Eddie and I kissing. The next was of him sitting on my lap. It read "Now, who wears the trousers in this relationship?" The third picture was of just me, and this one upset me the most. The caption read "Eddie claims to oppose violence, but looking at the bruises on Damien's face, it's hard to believe."

The pictures at the restaurant were both of Eddie and me arguing fiercly. The first was of him yelling at me; I was glaring at him. The caption read "Moments later, Eddie and his young lover cause a stir." In the next photo, I was yelling at him while he stared downward, looking dejected. The caption to this picture read "Mr. Izzard gets torn into by angry boyfriend." I read the article quickly. It was mainly a load of bollocks about Eddie being not only a homosexual, but also abusive, and about me being decades younger than him, all of it dressed up to sound horrible, ending with "Later on, Eddie and young Damien headed out of the restaurant holding hands, apparently having made up." I closed the magazine and looked at Eddie, who was glaring at the ceiling. I tossed the mag back on the table and stared at the ceiling with him. I didn't mind being in a tabloid but was worried about Eddie. And furious with the editors and writers for printing the story. And at whoever took the pictures. Eddie was obviously upset, and this was a lot of trash written about him that could cause a lot of problems. I waited for him to speak; I didn't want to further upset him. I figured if I was calm about it, even though I was angry, he might be more calm about it, too.

He was silent for a long minute, but then began slowly, "You know, I thought this wouldn't upset me."

"I know."

"I just... I... Are you okay?"

"Eddie, I'm fine. The fact that I'm in there doesn't bother me. But you-- I mean, this could cause you a lot of problems."

He nodded. "I know, kiddo. That bitch Melinda. She must have done it."

"It could have been that group of kids."

"Not by the angle of the pictures. And every damn person has a picture phone."

"I know," I replied, keeping my words limited to let him vent.

"I just can't believe somebody would do this. This is... it's just disgusting."

I was slightly confused. I didn't think Eddie would be so upset by this. Or, at least so visibly upset. He seemed more easy- going than that. Also, he knew how the tabloids were-- nobody believed them, and those that did didn't matter anyway. But then, there were the pictures. Sure, pictures could be altered but people had seen us around. They would continue to.

"You know I would never hurt you, right?" he asked, staring into my eyes with a deadly serious expression.

"Of course I know that. I don't think you're capable of it."

He stared at the floor for a minute. "I don't know what to do. If I confront the magazine, I'll probably get mad at them and fuel their fire. If I talk about it, people might not believe me. And if I just ignore it... I'll look like a twit."

"Or you'll seem like you're confident enough with yourself not to care. But I don't think you should let this go."

"You don't," he asked, bunching up his eyebrows.

"No. People's image of you will be skewed. They'll think you've been lying to them."

"What should I do? What would you do in this situation?"

"I would ignore it. But with me, it would be different. People have heard of transvestites, but they don't recognise the existance of female TVs. Maybe we should educate them. You've got lots of friends with radio or telly shows. Maybe one of them would be willing to help. Or you could hold a press conference, but I think that would be a little over the top."

"Yeah. You think I should do a show? Or maybe I should wait this out and see what the reaction is. See if any fans are having problems with it, or if... I dunno, any more papers put spreads out or something."

"Well, you probably won't be able to get on a show for at least a week or so, right?"

"Yeah, that's true. You think I should call up somebody and see if I can set something up?"

"I think so. But, hey-- don't make the whole interview about this. Don't make a big deal of it. If you do, everybody else will too."

He nodded and touched his fingertips together. "Okay. Okay. I've got to make a call." He stood up. "Well, I guess we were going to have to deal with this eventually. Better to get it out in the open sooner rather than later."

"Yup." I stood up with him and kissed his cheek.

"Hey, listen. Thanks. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Without me, you wouldn't have been in this situation to begin with.

"Don't worry, Eddie," I said, trying to sound convincing. Really, I wasn't sure about it. "This will all work out. You want me to go out for a few hours? I could meet up with some friends or something."

"Could you? That'd be great. Not that I want you to leave, I just think I need some time to think about this."

"No trouble at all, hon." He kissed me and then headed slowly upstairs. He turned around about halfway up.

"Courts?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful, please. Call me if you need anything."

"Okay." I turned to head out the door. "Eddie?" I turned around and saw he was still watching me. "I love you."

"I love you, too.

With that, we both went our separate ways. I headed out the front door and down the street. I wasn't sure where I was going, but I needed to talk to somebody. Truth was, I was worried about Eddie. Not only his feelings, but how everyone would react to the story. I wandered around, thinking about who to call. Cornelius was the first person who came to mind, but I figured I had bothered him enough already. I wanted to talk to someone in person. Without even thinking, I boarded a tube and headed towards Soho. I sat on the tube, watching all the people. I kept my head down, keeping to my thoughts. Most people were too concerned with their own thoughts to notice me, and I was happy about that. I didn't want any trouble. Normally I didn't mind a bit of confrontation, but at that particular time I wasn't up for it. In fact, I was so angry at the Sun for writing all that shit, I probably would have taken it out on anyone who looked at me twice.

Sitting on the train, thinking hard about what I could do to try and fix the situation, I only got more angry. I stormed off the train at my stop, nearly crashing into someone. He shouted at me and I ignored him, walking briskly towards the closest pub. I threw open the door and sat down at the bar. The bar was nearly empty; the only other patrons were a group of women laughing over cocktails at a corner table.

"What can I get you, Sir," asked the bartender.

I lit up a cigarette, hands shaking. "Whiskey, straight up." He poured my drink and slid it over to me. I downed it in one swallow and asked for another. He obliged and I tapped my fingers on the bar, then gulped down the second drink and took a long drag on my cigarette. "Keep 'em coming."

The bartender gave me a significant look as he poured me another whiskey. "You okay? You're too young to be an alcoholic."

"I'm fine," I said, sipping the whiskey this time.

"I'm Nathan. And you are...?"

"I'm," I sighed, "Demian."

"Wanna talk," Nathan asked. I shrugged. I didn't know how to explain what had happened. I didn't really want to get into it. "Well, if you change your mind let me know. I get a bit bored." He flashed me a warm smile and began wiping down the countertops. I finished off my whiskey and tapped my cigarette nervously into the ashtray. I blew a stream of smoke into the air as Nathan poured me another drink.

"So," he began. "Where are you from?"

"The USA."

"I figured that much. What part?"

"Utah," I told him.

"Really? What are you doing here?"

"Stirring up trouble, apparently. I can't say this has been my best holiday ever."

"Why's that," he asked.

"I've had the shit kicked out of me, and possibly ruined the career of a very good friend. And I've still got a hell of a decision to make. It'll affect both my friend and me."

"What kind of a decision," he asked casually.

"Whether to stay here." I stubbed out my cigarette and lit another, downing the rest of my whiskey. I could feel it warming my blood, loosening me up.

"You want another," Nathan asked.

"Not for a minute. Just give me a coke. And something to eat." He nodded and poured me a soda.

"Chips okay?" I nodded, and he walked back into the kitchen to order my food.

I put my head on the counter and breathed deeply. Fuck. What have I done? I was thinking slightly less than coherently. I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked up to see Nathan sitting next to me at the bar.

"Now," he said. "Whose life have you possibly ruined?"

"My boyfriend's."

"What did you do?" He seemed concerned.

"I kissed him on a tube train."

"Well, that seems fairly harmless, doesn't it?"

"Did you see The Sun today?"

"Oh! I thought you looked familiar."

I sipped some coke.

"Now," he began, "what is with that?"

"I don't know. We were just having fun and it turned into this huge thing." I closed my eyes. The whiskey was definitely affecting me now. "You know, Eddie's not gay. And he's not abusive. And... I..."

"It's okay, mate. But would you care to elaborate on the whole situation?"

"Em," I slowly began, "I am a transvestite. But I'm a girl."

"Ahh," Nathan said. "So you just look like a bloke."

I nodded, closing my eyes hard in an attempt to see clearly.

"Well that shouldn't be a problem," Nathan said. "Just call up The Sun and straighten it out."

"S'not that simple," I slurred. "Shit. Too... much... whiskey. Em, I can't... Nope."

"Hmmm." He chuckled. "I see. Well, I'm sure it'll all be okay. Nobody believes that bollocks anyway."

A shout came from the kitchen and Nathan got up to collect my basket of chips. He brought them back to me and slid a bottle of vinegar next to them. I unscrewed the lid slowly and poured on the vinegar, drowning the chips. I slid one into my mouth and chewed hard.

"You okay, mate," Nathan asked. I nodded.

"For now."

"Good." He patted my shoulder. "Listen: Eddie's a charming guy. He'll get it all straightened out. I wouldn't worry about it."

* * *

About an hour later, Nathan walked me back to Eddie's place. He'd asked another employee to come in and take over. I was pretty plastered and he had decided I needed a little assistance getting home. I wasn't a sloppy drunk, just really childish, and I tended not to give a damn about what I was doing or where I was going. And that could have been dangerous. I leaned on his arm, stumbling up the stairs to Eddie's front door. Nathan knocked on the door and after a few seconds, Eddie answered, looking slightly worse for the wear. If not for the alcohol I probably would have been nervous as to his reaction. He seemed confused as he pulled me inside.

"What happened," he asked Nathan.

"Oh, well Demian here got a bit pissed, so I offered to walk him home."

"That was very kind of you. Thanks." Eddie started to close the door, when Nathan stopped him.

"I just wanted you to know, Eddie-- I hope this whole thing doesn't cause too much trouble for you."

"Thanks, mate." Eddie shook Nathan's hand and closed the door, leading me up to the living room. He sat me down on the couch and dropped down across from me on the coffee table.

"So," he said. "Is this just something you do, or what?"

"No. I don't know why I do anything." He took my hands.

"Look, I don't mind you getting a bit pissed, but be safe about it, will you?"

I nodded. Eddie stood up and went into the kitchen, returning with a bottle of Perrier. He unscrewed the cap and handed me the water.

"Drink up."

I sneered and took a drink. "I hate water."

"Just think of it as hangover medicine. Now, why didn't you ring me for a ride?"

"I dunno. Nathan offered to walk me home."

"Would you have called, though," he asked.

"Yeah. I would have."

"Good. I want you to feel like you can ask me for help. Now... I think you've taken this whole thing harder than you've let on. I'm going to give you a little while to sober up, and then I want to talk about this, okay?"

I nodded and flpped back onto the couch. Eddie came and sat next to me, putting his arm around my shoulders.

"How pissed are you, anyway?"

I considered the question a minute. "6 whiskeys."

He whistled. "Damn! I think you'll need some coffee, too. I've brewed some. It should be ready in a few minutes. You're not gonna chuck your guts, are you?"

"No."

"Do you need anything," he asked. "Want me to bring you some coffee?"

"Yeah," I said. "Thanks. Heavy on the milk and sugar. And an ashtray, too."

He smiled and headed into the kitchen. I downed half the bottle of water and headed labouriously into the bathroom. After six whiskeys, a coke, and the better part of a bottle of water, those things happen. When I returned Eddie had set two cups of milky coffee and an ashtray on the table. I sat down and had a sip of coffee, then lit a cigarette.

"How's the coffee," Eddie asked.

"Perfect. Just the way I like it." I was feeling slightly more sober-- even able to speak clearly, if slowly.

"So," Eddie began, "are you ready to talk?"

"Yeah, I guess. What about?"

"You know what," he said. "I thought this whole tabloid thing didn't bother you."

"It doesn't. I mean, it does, but it doesn't bother me that I'm in there. I was just so pissed off about what they wrote about you. How could anyone do that to you?"

"They do it to lots of people. Why should I be any different," he asked.

"Because..." I thought about the question. "Well, because you're you. And I feel some responsibility to make life as easy as possible for you. You're different from all those other people."

"Im not different," he reasoned. "And you don't have any responsibility to me."

"Yes I do. Look, I love you. And therefore I have to try to make you happy."

"This couldn't have been avoided. And, even if it could have, we don't know what the reaction has been. I don't know if this will have an adverse effect on me, or any effect at all. It could all just blow over. You never know. Well, except sometimes you do."

I grinned.

"Now, that's what I like to see," he said. "I've got a radio interview set up with Jonathan Ross on Friday. I'd like you to come along and introduce yourself."

"Are you sure about that," I said. "I mean, wouldn't you rather just straighten this out and not make a big deal out of it? Surely you don't need me there."

"I want you there. You don't have to come, of course, if you don't want to. But I've always said that the reason I don't talk about people is because they don't want to be talked about. You've made it pretty obvious you want to be talked about. I'd like to have you there."

"Okay," I began. "I'll do it." I was actually really excited at the idea. I'd always wanted to do an interview, and I really liked Jonathan Ross.

"Good," Eddie said, patting my knee. "This will all come out in the wash. Whatever kind of expression that is. Oh, speaking of wash, I've done yours. Not that I mind you wearing my clothes, but I thought you might want your own back in wearable condition."

"Thanks!"

"No problem. And, thanks for cleaning up the kitchen. I might have never got round to it."

"You're very welcome," I said, gulping down more coffee. "Isn't this great, us doing things for each other?"

"Yeah," he said with a sigh. "It's great."

"Don't sound so depressed, Eddie."

He stared down into his coffee cup before taking a long swig.

"I can't help it; I am." He looked at me significantly. "You didn't have any trouble in town, did you?"

"No. I tried to ignore everyone. Except Nathan-- he kind of made me talk to him. Meanwhile I was getting pissed." He didn't laugh, or even smile. Instead he finished off his coffee, took both our cups into the kitchen, and announced that he was going to bed-- maybe he'd feel better in the morning. I followed him upstairs and watched him from the doorway to his bedroom as he undressed. He looked over at me, standing there in just a pair of Jockeys, then got into bed. I stripped down to my skivvies, turned out the lights, and joined him. He lay flat on his back, hands behind his head. I curled up next to him and put my arms around his waist, giving him a kiss on the cheek. He turned away from me.

Fine, if that's the way you want to be... I got out of bed and went across the hall to the spare bedroom. I flopped down on the bed and sighed. God, what's wrong with me? Us? Nobody argues this much. There's no way this could work out. But that couldn't have been true. I loved Eddie, and as far as I could tell, he loved me. He wouldn't have bothered to try to work anything out if he didn't. He wouldn't even be with me if he didn't love me. I wasn't some gorgeous blond. I was a boyish- looking, confused, naive kid. He wouldn't have ever picked me to have a fling with. Maybe all this arguing was a good thing. Maybe it meant that we cared about each other enough to get things out in the open, rather than hiding our feelings. I hoped that was what it meant. I wished Eddie would tell me what he was thinking. He had been so open with me in the past. Why was he avoiding me? I couldn't stand it; I buried my face in my pillow and cried.

What am I going to do? Honestly, I thought I had made up my mind to stay with him. But now, I wasn't so sure. I wasn't sure about anything. I didn't know what I wanted. I didn't know whether I could deal with staying with Eddie-- especially if this was the best I could expect out of the relationship. I knew it would only get more stressful when he started working again. He would be travelling, either leaving me home alone or taking me along with him to stand in the background and return to a hotel room at the end of the day and do nothing but sleep. He said he's willing to do anything to make this work, but he's not going to give up his career. And I would never want him to do that. Could I handle this? A long- distance relationship is one thing, but what if it still seems like one even when he's ten feet away? Can I deal with that?

Eddie opened the door. I looked at his sillhouette in the dark. His broad shoulders were hunched over, his head was down, and his legs were spread wide apart.

"Can I come in?" he asked softly.

"Yeah."

"Look," he said, walking in slowly and sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'm really sorry for being such a bastard. I don't know what came over me. Are you okay?" He wiped a tear from my cheek.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"You're not angry with me, are you?"

Looking at Eddie's sweet face, I couldn't be angry at him. "No, Eddie. I'm not. But what happened? I mean, we were just talking and suddenly you went off."

"I know. I'm so sorry, honey. I just can't stand not knowing. I know we've been arguing a lot. But you've got to believe that it'll get better. This has been a really stressful couple of weeks for both of us."

"I know. But your whole life is stressful," I reasoned. "What happens when you're on tour and I'm stuck in a hotel room waiting for you all the time?"

"It's not like that. What happens when you're on tour for months at a time? We can tour at the same time. Spend all our time together, just you and me, on the open road, living out of suitcases, then coming home together, living together..."

"It all sounds so romantic. But it can't be perfect all the time."

"Who says relationships are supposed to be perfect all the time?"

"They're not," I considered, "but most people in relationships don't have huge, time- consuming careers."

"People have done it. And I work hard to make relationships last."

I gave him a look. I knew he was a sabotager.

"Really," he insisted. "I do, at least until I realise there's a reason not to. But I've never felt about anybody, the way I feel about you. If we can last through all this we can do anything. Think about it. Since I've met you we've gone through you almost being killed, your almost complete recovery, a whole slew of disagreements, and now this tabloid thing. We've both had rough lives. We've dealt with a lot of shit individually. That's a lot tougher, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah."

"I mean, no matter how much support you get from your family and friends, you ultimately have to deal with your own struggles. We both started out life as confused kids who didn't know who we were or why. We went through prejudices, identity crises, all this horrible stuff that doesn't happen to most people. And we face this stuff every day, whether with other people or just in our own heads." Eddie scooted up next to me under the covers. "So we're tougher than a lot of people. We can get through shit. And it's always easier when you have help from another person, especially when that person knows exactly what you're going through. We can hack this together."

"I never thought about it like that," I admitted.

"That's part of the reason I'm so attracted to you. We can really understand each other. I don't have to worry about you having trouble realising that I can't control my transvestism. At least we won't have arguments about that." He smiled.

"That's true," I said, finally understanding a bit about why Eddie so badly wanted to keep me around. "And I suppose you can't really say that we don't get along."

"Right. We've got so much in common. And we've got enough varied interests to keep us entertained. Like, I can teach you about films and you can teach me about music. We can give each other performance tips, learn from each others' experience. We're perfect for each other. I'm never gonna let you go."

"How you gonna do that?"

"I'm gonna keep you locked up in my shed," he joked.

"You don't have a shed! Oh and, by the way, I've been meaning to ask you to show me how to escape from a straightjacket."

Eddie laughed. "Too right."

"I'm glad you came and talked to me. I feel better now."

"That's another good thing about us: we make up very quickly."

"And make- up sex is always the best sex," I quipped. "Did I ever mention that I get extremely perverse when I'm drunk?"

"No. I think that's just fantastic. Can I just keep you completely smashed all the time?" He kissed my neck softly. "What else gets you in the mood?"

"Eddie-- I'm twenty. Anything gets me in the mood. Particularly men in makeup, men in little black Jockeys, watching blokes ride horses, watching blokes drive cars, porn, showers, the word 'sex', good music, being in a bed..."

"Wow. Just like you said, anything," he said with a devious grin.

"Wanna know what turns me on the most?"

"Do tell," he purred.

"You."

* * *

The next day, after recovering from an intense hangover and a physical therapy session, Eddie and I went out to lunch at a fish and chip shop. We joked around during lunch, just having a good time. It was a good day for both of us. Two different people came up to Eddie asking for autographs, but didn't seem to have seen anything the Sun had printed. Or, if they had, they didn't let on. As I expected, I was generally ignored by the two fans. Eddie introduced me both times, of course, but didn't have me sign any autographs or anything. We spent the rest of the day hanging out, watching films I hadn't seen. Eddie kept pausing them to explain things: why he liked a particular scene, weird facts about the actors, anything that popped into his head.

The next day was slightly more eventful. Eddie and I went shopping, just purusing various shops. Eddie insisted I buy whatever struck my fancy; he would take care of it. I felt a little weird about it, as nobody had ever done that for me before. So I kept my purchases limited, only getting things I really adored.Or, things he really adored. He'd pick a shirt, hold it up against me, and tell me it was me, and that it looked fabulous and I just HAD to get it. I ended up with a few shirts, a couple pairs of jeans, new cufflinks, and a pair of dress shoes. He tried to talk me into getting more stuff, but I politely declined. I'd gotten enough to keep me pacified for at least a couple of weeks.

While heading back to Eddie's car to put our bags inside it, we had a bit of trouble. As Eddie opened the car door, we were approached by a young man. He stood nearby, staring for a moment, before chuckling rudely. I whipped my head around to look at him as Eddie took the bags from me and set them in the backseat. The young man grinned with an evil glint in his eye. I glared back at him and he chuckled again.

"Something I can do for you," I asked. Eddie looked up from the car and noticed the little staring contest going on. He gave me a warning look, closing and locking his car door.

"So it's true," the guy said, smirking.

I stepped closer to him. Eddie tried to pull me back, but I wrenched my arm away from him.

"Heh. I knew it was only a matter of time," the man continued.

"Care to elaborate," I spat.

"Eddie's little boyfriend has a big mouth," he sneered.

"And little patience for pricks like you," I said.

"Yeah, I always knew you were a fag," he said to Eddie.

"Come on, Dems," Eddie said softly. "Let's just go."

"No," I said, never taking my eyes off the rude little man.

"What are you gonna do, boy?"

"Fuck you up real bad if you're not careful."

"What's a little poof like you gonna do?"

I decided to play his little game. "Tie you up and make sweet love to that nice, tight asshole of yours."

His nostrils flared with anger momentarily, but he soon put his smirk back on and said, "Just like you do to Mr. Tranny every day?"

"Fuck you," Eddie said in a voice barely above a whisper.

"'Scuse me," the man said. "Didn't quite hear that, poof."

"Fuck you," Eddie repeated, louder this time.

The man was becoming less succesful at hiding his anger. "Shut the fuck up!"

"And what if I don't," Eddie asked calmly.

Shit. He's gonna get himself killed. Of course, I should have learned my lesson from the last time. What do I do...? I suddenly got what was possibly a brilliant idea.

"What's your name, mate," I asked.

The guy looked slightly startled. "Em, Steve," he said.

"Well, Steve," I began, "prepare yourself for an eyeful." With that, I ripped my t- shirt over my head and stood there in my bra. "Anything else to say, Steve?"

He backed off a bit, now completely in shock. He put a serious expression on and stuck his hands up in the air. "Well, you're still a fucking fag," he said, walking briskly away. I stood there a minute, catching my breath, then pulled my shirt back on. When I finally looked back at Eddie, his mouth was dropped open and his eyes were wide with shock.

"Wot," I asked innocently. He closed his mouth and it just dropped open again. I couldn't help it; I cracked up completely. Eddie loosened up after a moment and began shaking, slowly collapsing with me against his car in a fit of giggles. People walked by throwing amused glances in our direction.

"What the hell was that," he finally managed.

"I don't know." I straightened up and pulled Eddie back onto the curb. "I guess I was just trying to figure out the most certain way to get rid of him."

"But you..." He took me by the hands and whispered in my ear, "You don't even like showing those to me, let alone a perfect stranger."

"Mmm. I did it just for you," I said, and pulled him in close to give him a kiss. He grinned.

"For moi?"

I nodded. He kissed me again.

"Alright. Now, I've got a surprise for you," he said. I looked down at his crotch. "No, not that. You little pervert! Well... maybe after. Let's see, what time is it? About six? Hmmm. We should leave in a half hour. So, bit more shopping? Or a bit of fun in the back seat?"

"Ooh, I like that idea. Wanna, em, park in some remote location?"

Eddie grinned and unlocked the car again. He got in the driver's seat and I hopped in next to him. After a few minutes of driving we ended up in an empty car park. Eddie switched off the car and kissed me.

"Backseat," he asked. I nodded, opened up my door, and clambored in. He followed me in and threw me against the seat, driving his lips into mine and groping wildly with his hands. I returned the favour enthusiastically, clawing my way up his shirt. He pulled away for a moment.

"Try not to get me too worked up. We don't want to be late-- and besides, I don't have anything in here to clean up with." I growled and began nibbling on his neck.

"What if I cleaned up for you," I hinted. "We've got the time."

He raised an eyebrow and climbed into the corner of the backseat, unbuttoning his jeans. "Isn't this illegal?"

"Probably," I said, raising his shirt to expose his white, quivering belly and lowering the waistband of his briefs to deliver a kiss of ecstasy.

* * *

"Don't you trust me to keep my eyes closed?" I asked as Eddie parked the car.

"Nope." He shut off the car and got out, then opened my door and helped me out. He closed the door and led me around, then stopeed me, spun me around, and placed two slips of paper in my hand. He stood behind me and pulled off the blindfold he'd tied around my eyes, then rested his hands on my shoulders as I took in the glorious sight in front of me. It was the Dominion Theatre, with a huge sculpture of Freddie Mercury and a gigantic sign reading "We Will Rock You". I looked down at the fifth row, centre tickets he'd managed to get us.

"Eddie, my God! How did you manage to get these?"

"Oh, I spoke to your good pal Brian."

I flipped around and gave him the biggest hug I could muster. "You crafty little bastard!"

"It's the 'little' I object to," he replied, a la The Cat's Meow. "Was no trouble t'all. He happened to have bought two extra tickets for tonight. That's two extra, as in he will also be here."

"You are absolutely amazing," I stated.

"Come on. Let's go meet Mr. May." He took my hand.

"That's Dr. May," I informed him as we made our way into the theatre and to our seats. As soon as I saw a huge bush of curly hair I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Keep it moving," Eddie whispered. "Don't want to attract him any attention."

I nodded and kept moving, sitting down next to a rock god. He turned to me and smiled widely.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Brian." He extended his hand and I shook it firmly.

"I'm Demian." Eddie leaned in front of me and grinned at Brian.

"Nice to meet you, Brian.," he said, grabbing Brian playfully by the back of the head and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, listen mate: thanks so much for the tickets. Demian loves the show, and I can't wait to see it again either."

"No trouble at all," Brian said. "My pleasure. It really is a fantastic show, isn't it?" Eddie and I both nodded. "I'm so proud of these guys," Brian gushed. Just then the house lights dimmed and the chords of the first song began. We all sat back in our seats and listened in awe as Freddie Mercury's voice came through the speakers at deafening volume. Eddie took my hand and stared up at the stage. As the musical went on, I glanced at Eddie. He wore a look of childlike excitement and occasionally mouthed along with the song lyrics he knew. Toward the end of the show, the famously emotional song "No- One But You" was performed. I looked over at Brian, whose eyes were streaming with tears. I knew it had a special meaning for him, as he had written it for Freddie after he'd died. Eddie reached an arm around me and pulled me close. As I rested my head on his shoulder, he kissed me on top of the head.

After the show and encore were over, Brian, Eddie, and I stayed seated so Brian wouldn't be seen as he was leaving. I knew he would have been mobbed on his way out the doors. Eddie gave me a kiss and then turned to Brian.

"Fan-fucking-tastic show, mate. I really enjoyed it," he said.

"I'm glad," Brian replied. "I'm so pleased with the reaction it's gotten."

"Thanks so much for the tickets, Brian," I said. "I've been waiting forever to see it again."

"No trouble at all," he said, smiling. "So, Eddie tells me he really fancies you."

"Yeah," Eddie interjected. "Now I'm just trying to convince her to stick around."

"Shouldn't be too difficult," Brian said. "You're a good- looking bloke. And with your sense of humour you can easily keep her in stitches until she forgets all about leaving."

"I think I've had enough stitches for a lifetime," I joked.

Eddie frowned. "Shouldn't make light of that, dear."

"Why not? These things happen. You did a whole bit about your fight."

"Ah, she's got you there, Eddie," Brian said.

"This is different."

"No, it's not," I insisted. "Anyway, let's not talk about it. It's done with." I adopted a booming, stupid voice, "I HAVE MOVED ON." Brian and Eddie giggled.

"Well," Brian said, "I think it's time we moved on. The theatre seems to have cleared." We all stood up. "Thanks for coming to see the show."

"Not at all. Thanks again for the tickets," Eddie said.

I gave Brian a hug and kiss, feeling his ribs poke through his lanky body, then backed out of the way so Eddie could do the same. Brian smacked Eddie playfully on the cheek and turned away to make his way backstage.

"See you later, guys," he said. We called thanks and goodbye to him and headed out of the theatre. I hugged Eddie tightly around the waist as we walked out to his car.

"So, did you like my surprise," Eddie asked.

"Oh, no," I said sarcastically. "I hate Brian May and I absolutely detest Queen. Of course! I loved it. Now, shall we get home so I can thank you properly?"

"Oooh! Me likey that idea." He opened the car door for me and I got in. He got in the driver's side and turned on the car. "But, em... I want to ask you something."

"Okay," I said as he backed the car out of its stall and drove out of the lot.

"Em... That contraption you have? You know? The one you didn't want to use at the library?" He was, of course, referring to my sex kit.

I hadn't told him, but I'd been a bit embarassed he'd found it. "Yeah, what about it?"

"You said you were a virgin, right? So you've never used it on someone?"

"True. And...?"

"So, why'd you have it? Planning on getting lucky with someone," he asked.

"Nobody in particular. I mean, I didn't come here to meet up with a boyfriend or anything. I thought it'd be a good idea to have it, just in case. And, besides that, I didn't want to leave it home and have anybody find it accidentally."

"Oh," he said, looking rather relieved. "Well... You, uh, wanna make use of it?"

"Oh. Um... "

"If you don't, that's fine. I just thought, since you're obviously into that kind of thing, you may want to try it out, see if you like it."

"Well, it's not that I don't want to. It's just that I don't want to hurt you."

"Oh. Well, yeah I suppose it might be painful. Then again, your first time must have been somewhat painful," he said, looking at me closely. We were stopped at a red light.

"Yeah, a bit."

"So, what do you think? You can go slowly and break me in, so to speak."

"You sure this is what you want," I asked.

"Yes, otherwise I wouldn't have brought it up. Actually, I was waiting for you to mention it. But when you didn't, I thought I'd just see how you felt about the whole thing."

"Well, okay then. If you're sure you're up for it."

"Pun intended?"

* * *

As we got closer to Eddie's house I got more and more nervous. I wasn't so sure about this whole thing. I mean, sure I wanted to use it. I didn't really know why I was nervous; I just was. When we arrived, Eddie led me slowly inside and up to the bedroom.

"You're absolutely sure you want to do this," I asked.

He pulled me close and began unbuttoning my jeans, reaching his hand inside the waistband. He leaned in and kissed me as he moved his hand around to the back of my jeans. "Go get ready," he whispered, and went to sit on the bed.

Okay, here goes nothing. I went to the dresser and opened the bottom drawer, finding my kit sitting there atop a pile of condoms and bottles of lube, looking suddenly perverted. I want so badly to do this. Why can't I get out of my head that it might turn Eddie off completely? He said he wanted to do this.

"Anything wrong," Eddie asked. I realised I had been paused with my hand floating above the open drawer for several seconds.

"No," I said, and grabbed my erect penis out of the drawer. So weird, I thought. Grabbed my erect penis out of a drawer. Hiding the six (uncut) inches as well as I could, I ducked into the bathroom and attached it to my harness and unrolled a condom over it. I then removed my bra and put my shirt back on. Boys don't wear bras. Well, This boy doesn't anyway. Pulling my underpants back up, I positioned the penis upward and to the left, and took a long look at myself in the mirror. If only it were real...

I buttoned my jeans back up and headed slowly out to the bedroom with my head down. I glanced up at Eddie. He was laying back on the bed, shirt provocatively unbuttoned to the navel, one hand on his hip, the other behind his head.

"Feeling a bit self- conscious," he asked.

"Yeah. Normally I would be so incredibly turned on."

Eddie gave me a sympathetic grin. "Don't worry, everybody's self- conscious their first time. Just know that I love you and I'm not here to judge. Come here. I'll help you relax."

I crawled over the bed on top of Eddie and gave him a slow, slightly nervous kiss. After a minute Eddie broke away.

"Come on, honey. Don't worry about this. I won't give your virginity back or anything. You do want to do this, don't you?"

"Yes."

"With me," he asked.

"Yes, of course."

"So what's the problem?"

I considered the question. "I don't know. I'm just worried I'll hurt you, or you'll be turned off, or something. I just don't know."

"I would never deny any part of you. And this--" he touched my crotch lovingly "is part of who you are, whether it's attached or not. Okay?"

"Yeah," I agreed, feeling a bit better. I still wasn't quite ready to take the leap, but I was getting there. This is crazy. If one of us should be having doubts, it should be him.

"So let's just relax until you're completely ready. Just let me know." Eddie pulled me in and attached his lips to my neck, being more soft and gentle than he ever had been before. "Is there anything you want me to do?"

"Emm... A little eyeliner might help," I said. A little eyeliner always helps.

"Consider it done," he replied, rolling off the bed and dashing off into the bathroom. He returned a minute later sporting a dark streak of liner around each eye and a bit of mascara on his lashes. "All better, love?"

I nodded as he crawled back into bed. He sat crosslegged next to me, touching my chin softly.

"You're in control, love," he said.

I pushed him down on the bed and slid my tongue across his lips. His mouth parted slightly, inviting my tongue in. I took advantage and tickled the roof of his mouth, running my hands slowly up his chest. He moaned softly, sending deep vibrations rolling down my throat. I positioned myself over Eddie and ground my pelvis into his, pulling his shirt out from his trousers. I undid the last couple of buttons and he sat up, lips still attached firmly to mine, to remove his shirt completely. I pushed him back down, still not entirely ready, and continued kissing him for several moments. His hands groped me wildly, removing my shirt and unbuttoning my jeans. He pushed the waistband down slightly and felt my crotch, sending shock waves up my body. I did the same to him, moving slowly. I lowered my trousers and then removed them, allowing him to then remove his. I pressed my body into his, feeling his hot skin slide against mine as he flicked his tongue in and out of my mouth. Okay. Okay, I think I can do this. I lowered my briefs slowly. Eddie watched in lust and mild amusement, then lowered his own. He began to turn over onto his stomach, but I stopped him.

"No, I want to see your face."

* * *

I held Eddie tightly after it was all over. I had almost backed out a few times, after seeing him wince in pain. But he had made me carry on, tears in his eyes. I reluctantly and very slowly continued until he was seemingly comfortable. Eventually we were both relaxed enough to enjoy the experience, but it did take a long time. And then, his gentle moans guided me, eventually becoming more gutteral and animalistic-- I felt alright about it then. But I had the feeling it wasn't something he'd be wanting to do again for quite a while, if ever.

But afterwards, he lay with his head resting peacefully on my arm, breathing slowly, contentedly. Neither of us spoke for several moments. He was facing me, his big blue eyes soft and warm in the dim light. Somehow his expression let me know he was okay. He closed his eyes, his lashes casting soft shadows across his pale cheeks. I was dying to know what he felt, but I wanted him to have the first word, when he was ready.

Really, though, what do you say after something like this? "Thank you Sir, may I have another" just doesn't seem appropriate. Maybe I'd feel better if he just blurted out "Well, let's not do that ever again." But he didn't. He didn't breathe a word. Instead he pulled me closer and gently, almost apologetically, kissed my lips. There was a hint of a smile playing in his mysterious eyes. I played with his hair, twirling my fingers in the soft, wavy locks. I wished he would say something. Anything. I was worried I'd hurt him and he was trying to hide it by not speaking. Trying to spare my feelings, I didn't know. I decided to count to one hundred and if he hadn't spoken, I would. Obnoxious, I knew, but what else could I do?

1...2...3...4...5...6...7...

Eddie slowly stroked my sides.

14...15...16...17...

He kissed my neck. I breathed deeply, feeling his every movement.

28...29...30...31...32...

He closed his eyes. I kissed his eyelids softly, feeling his lashes brush under my lips.

The seconds ticked by and I was lost for words. Eddie's movements were slow and deliberate, almost as if he was trying to send me some message through his actions.

65...66...67...68...69...70...

He shifted onto his back and pulled my upper body onto his, placing a hand on my head, which rested on his shoulder.

99...100...101...102...103...104...

I had missed one hundred. And still, no words came to me. Okay,so much for that idea. Maybe he just wanted to go to sleep. But no, he was staring at me with an intense look. He opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again, closing his eyes as well. His lashes glistened with tears.

God, I did hurt him.

"Thank you," he finally whispered, eyes springing open.

I wasn't expecting that response.

"For what?"

A tear fell down the side of his face and landed on the pillow. I was suddenly in a state of hyper- awareness and I swore I heard the droplet landing on the blue pillowcase. I knew. He didn't need to tell me. I understood every word before he spoke it.

"For sharing that with me. I know how difficult that was for you. And... I... I didn't know how I would feel after this. But I had to find out. I feel so much closer to you now. I can't explain it. It's like a whole new level. Sorry, I'm not being overly eloquent... It's like I know you so much better now. I was so vulnerable and you just seemed like you couldn't stand to see me hurting. I know you would protect me no matter what. But at the same time, you know what I need. Like..." He trailed off, not able to complete the sentence. He took a deep breath and tried to continue. "Like a..." He stared into my eyes, and I knew he was unable to say what he really meant. It would have been too painful.

I nodded. I knew what he meant. My own tears mingled with his. Everything he had said was true; I felt the same way. There was some unspoken uderstanding. We would do anything for each other. Regardless of the fact that I didn't believe in God, this was like a spiritual experience. I felt completely overwhelmed. I sat up and pulled Eddie close, letting his head rest on my shoulder. I stroked his hair and felt hot tears drip onto my stomach. My hand moved of its own will, running up and down his shoulder. I cupped his cheek in my other hand and he gripped me around the waist.

I swore I heard him whisper something as I kissed him on the head.

"Like a mother."