Large bowl of cheese popcorn, lots of water, lots of beer, piles of different candies, stack of 'guy movies' action flicks from the eighties and nineties and a big soft pale blue green couch with C-Hawk there, plopped on it.

Great way to spend the night.

'And for our first feature pres-' Zack began and was silenced by the doorbell.

'Should I?' Curt budged from his chocolates.

'No, my place...I'll get it.'

It was Dolph to spoil his life as he had for far too many years to not be annoyed from.

And he had to have that dippy hat on, the stolen sombrero.

Not only there to ruin his night but to take his friend away again.

Zack pouted and slumped down, glaring, arms crossed and lips pursed, no longer caring from any car chase and gun fire and HUGE EXPLOSION! film not while his buddy and his frenemy were groping beside him.

Three dozen kisses broke him, his patience and his heart.

Dolph got on his nerves. What DID Curt see in that jerk, he'd never understand.

So barely thinking he changed into his most worn jeans, removed his shirt, stepped into the hallway.

Knew the room number by heart.

Went seeking loving for himself.

No sharing.

It was the jeans that drew him in, moth flying to burn itself on a hot light and Regal had once more singed his wings.

Not as much the denim, he considered, but the hills of skin beneath the cloth, one for each hand, soft and smooth and nice scent, as he squeezed them and kissed enough to make their lips raw.

Felt young again with his Zack.

Hadn't been attracted to any other this way since ages ago, meeting his wife the first time.

Mike had his own giant luxury suite, big enough for ten people, now only three here.

He'd politely invited riley, former tagalong, not bad kid, since he hated being alone.

Wondered how much the guys would laugh at him, knowing his fear, being alone?

His big mouth and ego did nothing to cover how he felt, scared when all alone.

impatient too. It was August already and he SAID he'd be back by now.

Miz huffed and fumed and had a mini tantrum.

Before hearing his guests definitely making themselves at home.

He scampered up the stairs, nosy squirrel, spied on them.

They formed a diagonal T, Mason behind Alex, holding him by the hips, plunging forward.

Miz shuddered, raced back down the stairs, back in his own room, his bed.

He could still hear the moans.

Greased up a particular Elite action figure(after removing the furry coat, no need to get lube on it) and pushed the face inside his body.

Gasped, pushed in a bit more.

rode his Morrison to the music of grunts and sighs above him.

One and a half days off before back to work again.

hadn't brought the babies home, not yet, concerned his dog might hate on them.

Wade kept them some, then unwillingly traded off to Kane, then Jayge, then Drew, adorable Natterer's bats, had big ears just like Daddy.

No big buddy Boodah here right now, still in the kennel being kept and looked after by a neighbor.

His front door was open.

The door was...

He like the idiot his husband said he was ran to it.

and the brick hit him, fist in the face, wipeout,blacked out.

Brock grinned over him.

'welcome home.'