Blaise was one of the first to arrive at the caf for the party, grabbing a slice of pizza and a soft drink cup before rushing over to Larry as quickly as his encumbrances allowed. His eyes glowed with excitement. "So when did this happen?"
Larry gave him a hug and a smile. "A few weeks ago."
"What?? You got sold a few weeks ago and never said anything? Did Leo know?"
Larry grinned and rolled his eyes. "Of course Leo knew about it. Look, I'll explain when everybody's here." He looked up as Blaise's roommate Carl came over. "Hey! Don't ask yet, okay? I'm waiting till everybody gets here."
In about fifteen minutes, all of the graduates had arrived. Larry waved to me and I closed the door, after putting out the "Privacy, Please!" sign.
Abe raised his eyebrows as I closed the door, and shot Larry a puzzled look. He gestured at and Maverick and me, and asked, "Why's it only graduates here, except them?"
"Because..." He shrugged and smiled. "I know you all know enough about me that you won't be offended, but with Leo gone, there's nobody closer to me than Wynn and Maverick are. And because they can help explain if any of this seems... weird."
Carl blinked. "Ummm... it's starting to seem weird already, if you want the truth."
Larry laughed. "Just wait. Anyway, what I'm about to tell you, please don't pass it on yet to anybody outside this room, but that's not because I'm going to keep it a secret. I just want to tell everybody myself, and it'd be a little overwhelming for me if the entire student body came in here all at once..."
Kendrick held his arms out. "Larry, what the hell's going on?"
"Okay." Larry sighed heavily. "Well, I'm going to the hospital in a couple of days." Several people gasped. "And when I come back, I'll look kind of... different. I'm having... well, basically, it's facial reconstruction surgery."
Jaws dropped all around the room. I watched closely, and sure enough, within seconds several boys suddenly gasped and said, "Oh!!!" All of the graduates were familiar with Ted Bloom's folder, and given enough time, probably all of them would have figured it out on their own, but Blaise saved them the trouble, blurting out in astonishment, "You're going to look like Zeke Hillcrest!!" Everybody who hadn't gasped yet did now.
Larry waved his arms for quiet. "Okay, we don't have a lot of time. You know we can only keep everybody out of here for an hour, and I want to spend part of it actually having a party..."
Jules interrupted. "And this was really okay with Leo?"
Larry nodded and smiled. "Telling all of you like this was his idea. I'd actually wanted to spend the few weeks after I came back pretending I really was Zeke. Leo convinced me that would never work, because A, you've known me for years, and B..." He laughed. "You're all Hanging Boys, so you'd see through it in a second."
Carl said, "Not to mention we'd probably see Zeke in some entertainment news bit on TV in the meantime."
"Well, yeah, that too. Anyway, I really do want your help. Leo was sure you'd understand this..." Larry waited as the murmurs grew in the background around the room. Maverick and I gestured for quiet.
As the murmurs died down, Larry went on, speaking quietly to keep the background noise from rising again, "This is really important to me — I need you to help me be the best Zeke I can be." He started ticking off points on his fingers. "First of all, I'm not going to be Larry anymore. I want all of you to call me Zeke..."
He raised his hands in a renewed plea for quiet, but the whispering continued until Maverick said, "He can bring this off if we all help him." That, together with Larry seeming more serious than any of us had ever seen him, brought the noise level back down again.
Larry went on to the next finger. "Second, I hope you will all try to treat me as Zeke. Act as if I really was him. It's not that anybody here is going to be fooled. Everybody will know what's going on. But I need to get in that frame of mind."
Boys started nodding around the room. This was a matter of a Hanging Boy bringing honor to his profession.
Larry seemed to relax visibly. The hard part was over. "Third..." He switched suddenly to Zeke's voice, "I'm going to be talking like this." A renewed round of gasps circled the room. His vocal impression of Zeke was getting uncanny. Larry waited for quiet once more, and continued in that same voice, "If any of you catch me sounding like Larry, punch my arm or do something that really gets my attention. I want to get to where this is my normal voice."
Somehow, the room had gone dead silent. Everyone was watching with wide eyes.
Larry went on, still in Zeke's voice, "Fourth, I want you to test me. Ask me personal questions. Anything you think I should remember, try it out on me. A movie I've made, some memory from my earlier life..."
Even my jaw dropped now. It wasn't that Larry had seamlessly drifted into using the first person for Zeke. It seemed so natural. He didn't yet look like the actor, but somehow, at this moment, he was Zeke.
"If you catch me on something, if you know something I say isn't accurate, I need you to give me a reference. Tell me where you saw it in a magazine, or online, or wherever, so I can study it." He put on his serious face again. "Please, really. I know you'll want to joke around, but please don't make stuff up and pretend it's something I should know. Something that seems like harmless fun could end up confusing me and hurting my performance later."
Larry smiled, and went on in his own voice, "Okay, that's what I wanted to say. Let's party!"
Amos broke in, before the oncoming noise could drown him out, "Can we all punch you for sounding like Larry?"
Everyone broke into laughter, including Larry, who waved his arms in a defensive gesture. "No, no, that hasn't started yet. After I come back."
Two Nights Later
"No Zeke tonight, okay hon?" I whispered, "I want one last night with Larry." He sprawled full-length on Maverick and me as we lay side by side on the bed. Maverick's shoulder and hip were pressed against mine. I reached up over Larry's back and used just my fingertips to stroke his back down to his buttocks, slowly and lightly. Larry giggled and shivered. "That feels nice." He moved his head to the right and kissed me.
Larry alternated kissing Maverick and me for a few minutes. Maverick reached across with his right arm and brushed his hand along Larry's cock. Larry gasped and closed his eyes. "We could have a contest to see who can make me come first."
I laughed. "What's the prize?"
"Ummm... me."
I scrunched my nose. "Yuck. What kind of prize is that?"
"Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm going to vanish tomorrow, so you wouldn't have me for long."
Maverick said softly, "I want to get this straight. You're not going to pretend you don't even know us, right?
"Of course not. We'll be really good friends. Like I've known you a long time for some reason." He kissed Maverick again. "But I have to get totally in a Zeke mind-set. So just like everybody else, you'll never call me Larry again, right? Not even in here. I'm Zeke. And if I slip up..." Larry smiled.
Maverick laughed. "Yeah, I know. Punch you in the arm."
I asked, "You going to sleep with some of the other boys? How's that going to work?"
Larry laughed and rubbed his face against my chestfur. He came up for air, still giggling, and gasped out, "I guess the boys here are going to find Zeke is a lot more friendly with fans than they'd imagined." That started Maverick and me laughing.
I stopped first. "How do we want to do this?" I turned to look at Maverick. "Sweetie, do you want him first?"
Larry interrupted. "I do want each of you one-on-one, but first let me see if I can make both of you come at once." He pulled my legs apart slightly, then did the same to Maverick. He rolled us slightly toward each other, bringing our heads closer so he could easily kiss one, then the other, with only a slight turn of his head. He oiled his hands, grabbed our cocks, and started stroking. Maverick moaned, and I did too a second later.
Maverick lay on the pull-out bed, his turn with Larry already done. I tried to slow my spinning mind and focus on the physical sensations of holding Larry, my chest pressed against his, our thighs intertwined, tasting his breath through our joined lips. It was so much like saying goodbye to Leo, but so much different. Larry and Leo had been my first friends at the Academy. Leo was gone, and Larry would be soon... but not. I would share nights with him again, but not as Larry. His face would be different. His voice would be different. Even his name would be different.
Would he really be the same person?
A feeling of reassurance washed over me. My new friend Zeke would be filled with Larry on the inside. And I would always see my oldest friend within the new.
I pressed more tightly against Larry, rubbing my tongue against his. Tasting a part of Larry that wouldn't change.
Midnight, the Next Night
I poked disinterestedly at the magazines in the waiting room. Maverick had already found a news magazine, the one item amid the scatter on the coffee table that I thought might be worth a look. I thought about leaning on Maverick's shoulder to read it with him, but decided to wait on the magazine. That way, my mind would have something to focus on when Maverick was done.
A bored nurse's aide sat behind a window, reading a fashion magazine. I went over to the window and rapped lightly on it for attention. When the marmoset finally looked up, I asked, "Do you know anything about Dr. Perrin's surgery?"
The boy started to look down, and did a double take at the sight of my slave collar. Maverick and I had appropriated some very ordinary clothes from Wardrobe, but we still had to mark ourselves as slaves. The aide looked from the collar to a clipboard in front of him to the collar again, obviously unsure of the protocol for dealing with a slave who was standing at his window boldly asking questions, without any obvious permission from his master. He looked at Karl, a big lion and the Academy bodyguard responsible for us, for guidance, but Karl was absorbed in a sports magazine. The boy finally decided it was okay to speak to me. "All I know is that Dr. Perrin requested the operating room for six hours. Sometimes they run over, though. Or he could have just wanted an extra cushion of time. It's hard to predict."
"Thank you." I cursed myself for not asking Larry how long the operation would last when I had a chance. I hadn't thought about that until Larry, already goofy from pre-op tranquilizers, was being wheeled down the hall toward the operating room, where his doctor was already waiting. The orderlies, of course, had no information to give me.
I went back to sit by Maverick; I rested my head on Maverick's shoulder and closed my eyes. The clock on the wall said only forty-five minutes had gone by.
Maverick snorted and I opened my eyes. Maverick looked at me and pointed at a page in the magazine. He'd found a photo of Zeke Hillcrest, on tour to promote his recently-released movie. I grinned. "Little does he know what's about to happen to him, huh?"
Maverick laughed. "He won't even know after it happens."
"Should we see if we can get that outfit for Larry?"
Maverick shrugged. "Got a feeling Bloom wants something a little hotter."
"Hot, we got."
I looked around the tiny waiting room. Four walls, one with the window to the nurse's aide, one with an entry door. Sofas, tables, magazines, prints of happy scenes on the walls. I sighed. As exciting as it was to see, again, something outside the walls of the Academy, as excited as Larry had been about embarking on his great adventure in celebrity impersonation, I felt boredom crashing in on me, almost swamping my worries about how the operation was progressing.
Maverick and I might be the only students in the school the Dean would have allowed to accompany Larry to the hospital. He had a soft spot in his heart for any boys who could bring as much extra money into the Academy as Maverick and I had, with our party performances. Come on, Wynn, that's being too cynical. He respects us. Yeah, that's it.
I twisted around to lay full length along the sofa, my legs hanging over the arm at the end, my head resting in Maverick's lap. Maverick, holding onto the magazine in one hand, absently began stroking my hair with the other. The warmth and comfort of Maverick's lap put me to sleep in seconds.
I leaned forward quickly as Larry began to stir. On the other side of the hospital bed, Maverick sat up abruptly.
I'd been a little disappointed to see Larry's head completely covered in bandages. Standard stuff, Dr. Perrin had assured me. I could only see Larry's eyes and lips through small openings in the wrappings. Even his lips, though, attested to the fact that at least something had been done. Collagen injections had made them fuller, matching Zeke's.
The bandages conveniently served an additional purpose. Nobody on the staff of the hospital would be able to tell exactly what had been done. Only Dr. Perrin's own nurses and anaesthesiologist had been present in the operating room. The bandages would be taken off inside the Academy's infirmary.
I leaned still farther forward at the soft sound of a moan from Larry. I took Larry's hand in both of mine. "Right here, honey."
I strained to make out the whispered words. The slurring from the dopiness of drugs was made worse by the Larry's inexperience with the fuller lips. As nearly as I could make out, he said, "Feel weird. When's gon' start?"
I let out the breath I'd been holding and giggled. I repeated what I'd heard to Maverick. Laughing softly, tears streaming from my eyes, I reached out to stroke the exposed fur on top of Larry's head, above the end of the bandages. "Already over, hon. Doc says everything went perfect. You're Zeke now."
Slowly, the thickened lips curled upward into a smile. "Means you got' be nice t'me."
Giggling helplessly, sniffling, I lifted Larry's hand and kissed the back of it. "Anything you say, Zeke."
Three Weeks Later
I flinched at the sound of the intercom speaker making its preliminary crackling sound. I hadn't been conscious of how tense my body had become while waiting for exactly that noise. Seconds later the summons issued quietly from the speaker, "Wynn and Maverick, please report to the infirmary." I doubted any of the other boys could have heard it.
I grinned at Maverick and pumped my fist. "He's ready!"
This afternoon, Dr. Perrin had performed the secondary procedure, one that the doctor had not felt the need to perform in a hospital. I knew that the bandages had covered up a considerable amount of bruising, and had been glad I didn't have to deal with the sight of Larry looking as if he had suffered a severe beating, but once the black and blue patches had faded away, it was time to finish Larry's transformation, at least above his neck. Again with the assistance of her anaesthesiologist and nurses, Dr. Perrin had come in for for several hours of work: not only giving Larry a birthmark, but also some other minor adjustments — small spots on his lips, a slightly lighter color on his nose-tip. After the discussions with Bloom, we had decided we couldn't count on being able to retouch Larry's makeup during his "captivity." Larry had suggested the additional tattooing as a way of ensuring that he looked his best throughout, as well as post-mortem. Bloom had been very happy with the idea.
I was slightly irritated that I would not be the first person at the Academy to see the new Larry. That honor had gone to staff members from the hair salon, who should by now have dyed, cut, and styled Larry's head- and face-fur. I did understand Larry's wish that no one not involved in creating the transformation, not even Maverick and me, could see him until he looked the way he wanted to.
Since his return from the hospital, we had spent hours every day with Larry —even I was coming to think of him as Zeke — sometimes together, sometimes in alternation. We'd fetched him ice water or juice he could sip through a straw at first, brought him clippings or printouts with any information on Zeke that he hadn't already read, and talked endlessly with him. Larry had been practicing with Zeke's voice even when the swelling in his face made it hard to talk at all, doing it better every day as the swelling subsided, and he became quickly more accustomed to the new shape of his head and lips. But always, during that time, with Larry's new face hidden away behind the bandages.
Several of graduates had frequently visited Larry as well, all of them addressing him as Zeke, and getting used to that startling vocal impression he was still working on with the voice coach. They had all understood Larry's insistence on seeing Maverick and me first, once the bandages were off.
My heart pounding, I preceded Maverick through the door of the infirmary, and paused to take a deep breath in front of the curtains hiding Larry's bed. I cleared my throat. "Zeke? You in there?"
A chuckle emerged from behind the curtain — Zeke's chuckle. "Yeah. Even decent."
I gave Maverick a let's-go-for-it look and pushed the seam of the curtain aside. And froze, my jaw dropping in amazement, my eyes wide and staring. I'd thought I was ready.
Looking back at me with a growing grin was Zeke Hillcrest. Absolutely.
Larry laughed uproariously — Zeke's laugh — and pointed at my face. "Yes!! That's perfect! That's what I wanted to see!"
My eyes flicked quickly from one facial feature to another. Zeke's chin. His nose. Those high cheekbones. His auburn headfur, cut the way Zeke had been wearing it for at least a couple of years. The lips. The different pattern of fur on his face and body. The idea ran through my head, briefly, that Larry had somehow persuaded the real Zeke to come here and pretend to be Larry for a few minutes, as a huge joke. I even considered demanding that the boy in the bed prove he really was Larry. I reminded myself that Larry didn't want to be called Larry any more. Any such questioning would be really rude on my part, a violation of the protocol Larry had insisted everyone promise to adhere to.
I turned to look at Maverick, and saw Maverick's stunned look that echoed what I knew my own face was showing.
Larry rolled his eyes and beckoned us. "Would you guys get in here? Quit looking at me like I just fell out of the sky in front of you."
I slowly made my way to the chair on one side of Larry's bed. It felt almost like swimming through molasses. In spite of all the time I'd had to get used to the voice, hearing it now coming out of that face I had only seen in magazines or movies before was still mind-bending, and it was confusing, a famous actor suddenly acting as if he knew me.
Maverick also seemed to have difficulty. He finally stammered out, "Ummm... so, Zeke? How are... things?"
Larry grinned. "Well, I can tell now, things are going really, really well."
I tried to come up with something to say. Finally I drew a question from the only part of my mind still functioning, the one that said Keep testing him, always testing. "So I see you just finished a movie, Zeke. Some kind of supernatural thing?"
Surprisingly, in spite of being faced with the demand of actually thinking as another person, beyond just looking like one, the question seemed to relax Larry visibly. "It's more like a mystery thriller. Called 'Out of the Night.' We finished filming a few weeks ago, but I might get called back." He chuckled. "Especially with Tim Ferris directing it. It's hell working for a perfectionist, but after you're done you feel like he got your best work out of you. Anyway, if he's not happy with something in post-production, he'll make us come back and shoot more scenes. He's done that before."
Maverick asked, "You still going to stay here in the infirmary a few days?" I realized that Maverick was really trying to find out when Larry could come back to our room. I'd been about to ask the same thing.
Larry shifted effortlessly from being-Zeke to Larry-looking-and-sounding-like-Zeke. "The doc says I'm okay to go, but I need to keep coming back in the evenings so he can do the rest of my nose. About a week, he thinks, a few hours each evening"
Larry sighed. "That's going to be a pain. Literally. He wanted me under anaesthesia to do my lips and nose and all that, because he had to keep me from moving. He was going by closeup photos, trying to get it just right. For the rest of me it'll be easier, but it'll take forever." He looked intently back and forth between us. "You guys'll be here to keep me company?"
I displayed mock irritation. "You had to ask?"
Larry grinned suddenly. "Anyway, I didn't have them call you here just to take a look at me." He laughed. "That was so cool, though! I loved your first reaction!" He pumped his fist jubilantly. "But I can leave now! The doc cleared me out of this place and said I can start doing normal things. If anything around this place passes for normal." He laughed again. "I'll come with you guys to our room tonight, when there's not too many people out in the hallways. Come back here around..." He thought. "Ten o'clock. And I need you to stop by Wardrobe and get me... like a track suit, jogging suit, that kind of thing, just so it covers me up. I won't feel like Zeke if people see me with my fur like this." He waved his arm again. "And I'm going to have to visit the hair salon when there's nobody else there, to get the rest of my fur fixed.
I nodded. "Sure, Zeke." My mind was still feeling tossed around like a rowboat in a storm. Larry's arms and legs might not look like Zeke's yet, but watching his dramatically altered face and listening to the new voice, I found myself having to concentrate at one level to remember I was really talking to Larry and not Zeke, and on another level to remind myself to keep calling him Zeke. He's getting used to this a hell of a lot faster than I am.
Larry looked up suddenly, as if trying to see through the curtain. "So what's it take to get some food in this V.I.P. lounge? Don't they want me to recommend it to my friends?"
I doubled over in laughter, and sputtered, "I'll check into it, Zeke."
I looked at Larry, sitting between Maverick and me on our own bed. I opened my mouth, realized I had no idea what to say, and closed it again. I shook my head. Maverick was obviously having the same problem.
Larry simply sat and watched me, looking serious and aloof. After a minute of the staring contest, Larry finally broke into giggles. The giggles finally let me reconcile "this is Larry" with what my eyes were reporting: Zeke Hillcrest sitting in my room. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around Larry.
Maverick finally found his voice. "So what do you want to do, Zeke?" There was only the tiniest hesitation before Maverick spoke the name.
I let go, and Larry sat back. "Would you guys hang me? It's been a long time. I know I must be a little out of shape."
"Oh! Sure!" I sprang to my feet and began pulling the platform out from under the TV shelf, while Maverick stood by, jumping onto the platform and loosening the noose as soon as the platform was positioned.
Maverick bit his lip thoughtfully. "I don't think you should go more than about eight minutes. You've still got about a month to work your way back into it, from what Ted — sorry, Edward, was saying. If you strain yourself now you'll slow your recovery down."
Larry nodded. "I understand that. But if I still feel okay after eight, will you let me keep going?"
Maverick frowned, and finally nodded. "But I'm getting you down after ten no matter what."
Larry grinned. "You're the boss."
I had one hand on the lever, a stopwatch in the other, but that surreal feeling hit me again. We're about to hang Zeke Hillcrest, I thought. A famous actor with no hanging training. Shouldn't we get a stunt double in here? I choked back a laugh. Oh yeah, Larry is the stunt double.
Something still seems wrong, though. Oh. Right. I cleared my throat. "Ummm... clothes."
Larry blushed. I understood his reluctance, and went on, "Look, you know it won't feel right with clothes on. It'll throw off your concentration and you'll have to think about everything you're doing." I looked at Maverick for confirmation; he nodded.
Larry sighed. "Okay. Only for you guys. Nobody else." He peeled off the jogging suit he'd been wearing since we'd left the infirmary, revealing Larry's body fur that didn't quite match Zeke's facefur. His embarrassment seemed to fade as Maverick tied his hands, then slipped the noose over his head and tightened it around his neck. Like any other Hanging Boy, Larry cleared his thoughts of everything other than the hanging to come.
Larry took longer than usual to normalize his breathing. His excitement was obvious, sticking up out of his sheath. I held off a few extra seconds, then pushed the lever.
I watched carefully as Larry hung by his neck, kicking and wriggling. My years of expertise were valuable, though I could never compare with Maverick's inborn instincts. Larry's kicking looked normal, as energetic as always. He kept his moves simple and basic, as if he were doing the Fifteen. Everything seemed fluid, normal to my eyes. I looked at Maverick; he nodded briefly before returning his attention to Larry.
After a few minutes, I offered the stopwatch to Maverick, but he shook his head. I smiled: why would Maverick need mechanical help to know how much time had passed in a hanging?
As the eight minute mark passed, Larry was still going strong. I saw Maverick's hand move toward the lever, hesitate, and fall back. Good for Larry, I thought.
Shortly after nine minutes, Maverick frowned suddenly. He stood still for a moment, then finally pushed the lever at about the 9:30 mark.
Seconds later Larry stood firmly on the platform, grinning and breathing hard. After a few deep lungfuls he asked, "Was that ten?"
Maverick answered, "Almost. Your kicking got a little out of synch. It didn't look like a style problem. You were just tired. But I didn't want to see you rehearsing bad form."
Larry nodded, and waited as Maverick stepped up to untie and release him. "I want both of you to help me work out an accelerated practice schedule. I want to be doing fifteen in about a week."
Maverick frowned. "Ten days, maybe. Okay?"
Larry bit his lip, then nodded. "Okay. We'll include a lot of time with the neck trainer too, as well as hanging."
"Of course."
"What about the gym?" I asked.
Larry nodded. "I was thinking about that. I want to really concentrate the most on my neck muscles and wind, of course, with just enough time on the machines to get my overall muscle tone back where it was. I don't want to overdo that. Zeke is a healthy boy in great shape, but doesn't really have Hanging Boy muscles. Muscles straining during a hanging is sexy as all shit, but I have to keep looking like Zeke. So I'll do mostly neck training and plenty of aerobics. Oh!" Larry turned back to Maverick. "Choreography! I was just thinking. I don't think Edward will want to see much of the sexual thrusting. A little, maybe, enough to arouse him almost subliminally, but not to where I look like I'm really enjoying myself. Can we work out how I want to dance? Maybe have Shaw help out too. He's always been so good with the desperation stuff."
Maverick nodded. "Sure." He looked at me. "Let's think about it and make some notes."
I hoped the preparation wasn't going to start bumping into our one month timeline. "Sure. We need to start a list of that and everything else."
Larry sighed, and I saw a different light come into his eyes. I barely had time to wonder if I was imagining it before Larry spoke. "I'm so lucky I met you! I've never been organized, the way you are. My agent lines up jobs, my secretary makes the travel arrangements and handles the paperwork, and I just go where they tell me and sign what they shove in front of me." He sounded actually wistful, as if he was wondering what it would be like to live a normal, non-celebrity life. I blinked hard. I'd been seeing this for the last several hours, but it wasn't getting any less disconcerting. Larry, while using the Zeke-voice at all times, seemed to drift in and out of character, becoming Larry only when necessary before sliding back into Zeke. As the month went on, I'd be seeing Larry much less. I suddenly found myself feeling shy, as if it really was Zeke sitting beside me — I was having that much trouble seeing him as Larry.
At least I knew the source of Larry's inside information on Zeke's life. Larry was accurately channeling exactly what Zeke would say at this point, but I knew nothing supernatural was involved. Maverick and I hadn't spent nearly as much time as Larry had reading the constant stream of notes from Ted Bloom, but we'd seen enough to suspect that Bloom had made friends with at least one person, probably several, who had worked for or with Zeke at some point. With those insights added to the ocean of publicly-known information from magazines and Web sites, and Bloom 's own personal memories from high school, Larry had been able to immerse himself in Zeke Hillcrest to an extent even Zeke's fan club president couldn't match.
Larry suddenly wrapped his arms around me, pulled me close and kissed me. It was the last thing I expected from a movie star I had just met and barely knew. I couldn't think how to react, and could only return the kiss, my heart pounding in excitement and confusion, and sit stunned as Larry reached out to pull Maverick closer and kiss him as well.
Larry sat back, his lips curling into a Zeke-smile. He sighed. "It's getting late. I hate sleeping alone my first night in a new city. Would you guys mind staying over?" He looked at both of us, his expression saying he felt entitled to only one possible answer.
Maverick, blinking and radiating the same sort of confusion I was feeling, finally managed to say, "Sure, Zeke."
I started, "I thought —" and stopped myself. What I'd been about to say would be very rude to Zeke, and besides it wasn't really Zeke anyway. It would be thoughtless to remark on the fact that Zeke shared his bed only with femmes. It was a tribute to his star power that his unusual taste didn't seem to have cost him any fans. Never mind that. It's Larry, it's Larry! I was at last able to croak out, "I'd really like that, Zeke."
Grinning, Larry reached for me and started pulling up my uniform shirt.
Stroke buttocks. Rub cock with thigh. Kiss his neck. Hear sighing moan. Move up higher, kiss, tongue probing deep into mouth.
My awareness of being with Larry was as slippery as a bar of wet soap. Sometimes my inner voice insisted I'm making love with a movie star! How many people have fantasized about doing what I'm doing right now? And then there would a mouth around my cock, and conscious thought would be gone again.
I pressed myself against Larry's back as he turned away from me for the moment to hold Maverick, kiss Maverick, caress Maverick. And then Larry turned again, and I was kissing Zeke once more, holding Zeke close, moving against him, feeling him pressing into me, moving inside me, barely aware that my voice was rasping aloud, "Zeke! Zeke!"
Moments later resting, floating down from the clouds. Wondering even now how Zeke could be so good with males in bed if he didn't like them... No! I mentally shook myself, like trying to cast off a dream that won't let go after awakening. It's Larry! Larry, with his perfectly normal attraction to males and years of Academy training at pleasing them. And knowing more about what excites me than almost anyone else alive.
I put my hand on Maverick's shoulder, reaching across the now-dozing Larry. Maverick smiled back at me, his eyes alight, and said quietly, his voice laughing, "Edward just has no idea."
I giggled. "No kidding."