Some days it didn't pay to get out of bed.

As Brett stared at his computer screen, he wondered if he could crawl back into his nice cozy bed, pull the covers over his head, and fast-forward to six months down the road. Surely by then he'd be old news to Perez Hilton - Lindsay Lohan would be in rehab for the sixth time - and the sum of life wouldn't be listed under the category: gay, gay, gay!

He wasn't an A-list actor for fuck's sake, so how in the world did Perez get the candid pictures of Scott and him making out? They weren't Brad and Angelina. They weren't even the people from The Jersey Shore; they were two actors from the lowest-rated soap opera on daytime television and unless you were a soap opera fan or read The Advocate for Kish updates, Brett doubted most of America knew who they were.

Not anymore.

The picture made their relationship look sordid, but then even if Brett had been photographed with his hands halfway down the pants of a girl, with his tongue down her throat as he kissed her, Brett guessed it really wasn't the picture that was sordid - it was the couple. Scott and he looked like they were about to have sex right then and there.

Scott always did get handsy when he was drunk.

They'd been at a St. Patrick's Day party that one of Scott's friends threw in his East Village apartment. One of Scott's gay friends, Dave, who knew Brett wasn't ready to come out to the world - let alone to his family and friends - had promised the party would be a safe place for Scott and him to hang, be together, and not have to worry about something like this happening. It seemed Dave had some explaining to do.

Hearing his cell phone ring interrupted his angry thoughts about catching the subway over to Dave's and kicking the shit out of him. Looking at his iPhone screen, he saw Scott's smiling face come up. It looked like his boyfriend had heard the news also.

"Hey."

Scott wasted no time, getting straight to the point, "Have you seen it?"

He answered with as reasonable a voice as he could manage. "If you mean the picture of me practically jerking you off at Dave's party? Yeah, I've seen it."

He heard a loud sigh. "I'm coming right over." Scott's voice sounded tired. It scared Brett as he had never heard that tone before. His lover was usually so upbeat, like an ADD kid without their Ritalin on most days. It was rare to ever see Scott's serious side outside of work. No one could ever confuse Scott Evans with Oliver Fish.

"Scott, you don't have to come over. I'll be okay. In fact it's probably better if we don't see each other for awhile outside of work and let this die down." He knew he was taking the coward's way out, and Scott deserved more than to be dumped over the phone, but he couldn't deal with this right now. Between his brother's early morning wake-up call to inform him he was now infamous on the Internet, to Perez fucking Hilton's sleazy expose, he couldn't handle Scott trying to put a positive spin on this embarrassing situation.

Scott's voice was uncompromising yet oddly gentle, "I am coming over, Brett. So check with your doorman and make sure there aren't any paparazzi hanging around the front of your building, but I'll be there in thirty, depending on the B train." And with that Scott hung up.

Panic like he'd never known before welled up in his throat. How could he break up with Scott in person? His stomach clenched tight...this was not going to be pleasant.

 

* * *

 

Brett's finger hovered over his door buzzer, and then with a start, he pressed the button that would let Scott into the front of his building. He figured he had a couple of minutes to gather his thoughts before his lover arrived at his front door. All that he could imagine was Scott's beautiful face fifteen minutes from now filled with disappointment, anger, and hurt. They'd only been seeing each other since New Year's, and Brett had been hesitant about even coming out to Scott's friends, but after much cajoling and blatant sexual bribes from his boyfriend, Brett had finally been comfortable enough to let Scott's buddies know they were together. But Perez Hilton and the world? He was so not ready for this.

The knock pulled him out of his somber thoughts. Pulling open the door, Brett saw Scott standing there, and all the rush of emotions that he felt whenever he was in his boyfriend's presence came flooding in. Scott with his beautiful blue eyes, his sly smile, his infectious laugh...and his rock-hard body affected Brett like no one had before.

He felt Scott push his way past him, their bodies touching as the other man moved inside of the apartment. The usual tingle of sexual awareness raced through Brett's veins. Their attraction to one another had been instantaneous, Scott realizing many months before Brett that it wasn't just friendship but lust. His treacherous body was not going to make this break-up easy.

Closing the door, Brett paused for a moment, then raised his eyes to find Scott watching him. The expression on his boyfriend's face seemed to plead for understanding. Brett turned away, unable to look Scott in the face, knowing what was coming. He was halted by an iron grip to his wrist as Scott pulled him into a loose embrace.

"Brett."

Casting his eyes downwards, Brett opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by his lover's next words.

"No. We are not doing it this way. Brett, look at me," Scott said with quiet emphasis. "If you are going to dump me, then look me in the face when you do it. I deserve that at least."

Raising his gaze, Brett's eyes narrowed and his back became ramrod straight. Looking Scott directly in the face, he said, "Scotty, I can't...we can't...my family-" he broke off, not knowing how to continue the sentence.

Pale blue eyes sparkled with determination, and as if in slow motion, Brett saw Scott's mouth coming towards his. Right before those lips took his in a kiss that rocked him to his core, Brett heard the words, "I'm not giving you up."

As Scott deepened the kiss, Brett felt all the love he had for this man push to the surface. It wasn't wise, it wasn't in his life plan to fall in love with his male co-star, but he'd done it. Scott had broken down all those long-repressed sexual feelings he had for other men, and no matter how hard he tried, they weren't going away. His family, his career, none of that mattered. Only Scott did.

Unable to stop himself, Brett returned the kiss. Scott's tongue was out of control, plunging in and out of Brett's yielding mouth. Teeth and tongues touched, met, and grappled with each other for dominance. This always happened when they kissed. Nothing turned Brett on more than a dominant Scott. Suddenly he felt the door at his back and Brett could feel every inch of Scott's lithe body pressed against him. He'd grown hard the instant Scott's lips had touched his. He pushed his raging hard-on into Scott's pelvis, explaining without words just how turned on he was to his boyfriend. Scott's response was to push his own erection against his while never breaking contact with Brett's mouth.

Moaning against Scott's mouth, Brett grasped those powerful shoulders, wanting everything his lover could give and more. Scott didn't disappoint him, grinding against him with intent.

He hadn't realized one kiss could provoke this type of response. While his previous encounters with Scott had been filled with desire, they were usually controlled. He'd been new to gay sex and Scott didn't want to spook him. Today, this instant, nothing was held back. This was one man wanting another, taking another, and Brett eagerly answered each touch, caress, and kiss.

While that talented mouth ravaged his, Brett upped the ante in their passion play and moved his hands from Scott's shoulders to his hips...then gradually placed them on Scott's ass. Gripping those tight cheeks, Brett pulled up on the buttocks and pressed their pelvises together - harder. Scott moaned, "Fuck yes."

They strained against each other; the only thing keeping Brett in an upright position was the door against his back and Scott's grip in his hair. Suddenly, Scott broke the kiss, blue eyes met brown, then Scott moved first, taking his hands out of Brett's hair and placing them on his chest. Scott guided Brett away from the door and over towards the couch. Brett complied, letting Scott lead the way.

Scott pushed Brett backwards and he fell into the couch. Scott quickly followed, straddling Brett's legs swiftly. Quick hands deftly opened Brett's jeans, exposing his throbbing erection to the faint coolness of the morning air. Brett could see Scott staring at him with longing, their eyes connected as Scott leaned forward and took Brett into his mouth.

Brett cried out as his cock was enveloped by a warm, wet heat. As Scott moved his mouth along his lover's engorged penis, licking the shaft and balls, Brett slid his hands into Scott's hair, guiding the other man's actions. Before today, he'd always been careful when on the receiving end of one of Scott's toe-curling blow-jobs, but now lost in their mutual desire, Brett let loose. Thrusting his hips, Brett heard Scott grunt in response, but his lover didn't stop, he just kept up the suction, driving Brett out of his mind. Then when fingers probed behind his balls, near his pucker, Brett moaned, "Yes. Fuck me, baby. Please."

As a single digit entered his hole, Brett arched his back, forcing more of his cock into Scott's mouth, and the dual stimulation overloaded his brain. He found himself at the peak, but suddenly Scott pulled off.

"No!"

The other man reacted by leaning down and taking his lips in another soul-stealing kiss. Brett groaned in frustration. Scott moved Brett's hands out of his hair and instead took each wrist, one in each hand, and pushed them above his head - pining Brett more firmly to the couch. Breaking their kiss, Scott trailed his lips down Brett's jaw, into his neckline, pausing to lick the flesh with his tongue.

Brett could hear Scott speak, in a whisper, "Come with me. Together." The last word was emphasized by a thrust of his hips. Feeling the rough denim of Scott's jeans against his cock, Brett knew he wouldn't last long. He gasped as he felt Scott's teeth nip at his neck, and he knew he'd have a hickey come tomorrow. Between the neck-biting and the hip-rolling, Brett felt the pressure build.

Finally his climax hit him and he yelled out Scott's name as he came. His hips kept moving, his come exploded between them. He could hear Scott's answering moan of completion as Brett tried to catch his breath.

A few moments later, Brett could feel Scott release his hands. Scott's own hands now slid down Brett's chest, settling on his hips as he lowered his body on top of Brett's. Snuggling in between the back of the couch and Brett's now sated body, he could feel Scott's breath in his ear as the other man came back down from their lovemaking.

Scott said, "We're not breaking up, Brett." He had a possessive desperation in his tone. "I swear we'll figure this out. But I can't lose you. I love you."

Brett tried to throttle the dizzying current of panic that coursed through him at Scott's words and what they implied for him. Was he ready to be out and proud? Could he expose his life to the media - and his family - like Scott had? Did he love Scott enough to do that?

Breathing heavily, Brett closed his eyes and just let himself feel.

Scott was in his arms, holding him, loving him. They'd been building towards this for a while now, but Perez had just pushed them out of the closet a little earlier than expected.

It was then that it suddenly all became clear. Kissing the top of Scott's head, Brett pulled him closer into his embrace, "I can't lose you either. I love you. That's all I know." His voice was thick and unsteady, "You'll have to help me with this coming out disaster. You've been here, but this is all new to me."

"We'll do this together, Brett. Don't be afraid."

And Brett knew that with Scott next to him, guiding him, supporting him, being there for him when others wouldn't be, they could make it through.