****

Specs whistled softly as he gazed around at the apartment.  It was completely furnished and looked like one of those homes you see in the Better Homes and Garden catalogs.  Dutchy locked the door thoroughly before turning around.

"Just set your bag down on the couch." He said.  Specs did as he was told and surveyed the room with folded arms.  "I haven't gotten the guest room ready, so you'll take my room and I'll sleep on the couch, alright?"

"Naw, s'okay." Specs shook his head.  "I'll take the bed."

"I insist."

"So do I."

Dutchy sighed.  "Take a shower and change first.  Then we'll discuss this."

"Where's the bathroom?"

"Third door on the left.  There'll be some towels in the closet in there." Dutchy told him.  Specs nodded, grabbed his bag and headed down the hallway.  Dutchy dropped into a chair and just slouched down.  He yawned and closed his eyes.


Dutchy was awakened about an hour later when a wet towel was thrown against his face.  He cried out in surprise and pulled it off his face.  Specs stood with his arms crossed and grinning at Dutchy.  The blonde grumpily got to his feet and tossed the towel back to Specs.  He, with the grin never fading from his face, hung it up in the bathroom.

"Why don't you wear your hair like that more often?" Dutchy asked when he had come back, referring to the fact that Specs' hair was combed and parted neatly.

" 'Cause it makes me look like a wuss." Specs answered, sitting down on the footstool across from Dutchy.  He rolled his eyes.  Specs looked different in his loose jeans, black shirt, and combed hair with the absence of the leather and collar…and there was something else…

"Since when do you have glasses?" Dutchy asked.

"Contacts.  I just took them out."

"Oh.  What do you do, anyway?"

"I'm in a failing band."

"That would explain the collar…and your girlfriend."

"So you talked to her, then."

"She seems a little drugged up."

"She is." Specs answered, eyebrows raised.  "Shirley likes to think I dumped her because I discovered that I was gay with her help."

"You didn't?"

"One, I'm bi.  Two, she's annoying as hell."

"Oh."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"What's your preference?"

"My 'preference'?"

"Yeah.  You know, do you like girls…" Specs leaned forward, putting his hands on the seat cushion of the chair Dutchy was sitting in.  "…Or boys?" He finished, running his thumb up Dutchy's leg.

"I have to make dinner." He said quickly, getting up and forcing Specs to pull back his hand.  Specs jumped up as well and pushed Dutchy.  He fell back down into the seat, looking quite scared.

"I already ate."

"I'm hungry." He insisted and was pushed back down again.

"No, you're not."

"Yes I am!" Dutchy scrambled over the back of the chair and escaped into the kitchen.  He pretended to be getting pots out of the cabinet and gasped for breath, thinking to himself how close that was.

Specs still stood in the living room, smiling knowingly to himself.  His gaze was cast on the doorway to the kitchen.  Specs knew that Dutchy was scared of the possibility that he may be gay.  He liked this one.  And Dutchy sure as hell wasn't going to get away from him.

Continue to part 6...