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Chapter Five
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Dave felt bad. Okay, that wasn't entirely true, he'd been too fucked
up to really remember what had happened at the club, but he felt like
he should've felt bad. And when he didn't see John for the next
couple of weeks, he knew he should. Most guys didn't mind the
backrooms. Most of them were turned on by it. It made them want to
take Dave home, drunk and stoned and vulnerable. He didn't mind. For
those few hours, he could be somebody else. He could be their
boyfriend, their sexy lover, their long lost soulmate, their anything,
as long as he wasn't..

"Dave!"

He startled, nearly dropping his cash. He glanced up at his dealer,
about to apologize when there was a hand on his arm, pulling him back
and away.

"What the fuck, Pete?" he asked, annoyed. They were at school, on
campus, and it was hard to exchange drugs without doing it discretely.
And this definitely wasn't discrete.

"Don't call me Pete," he replied, seeming equally as annoyed. He
grabbed the drugs from Dave's hand and gave it back to the dealer who
was so high he couldn't give a fuck. "Put that shit down," Peter said,
exasperated. "Christ, how much can you do?? I need to talk to you."

"That kid has my cash," Dave stated, indicating his retreating dealer.

"I'll pay you back."

"It's three hundred dollars."

"Shit. Where the fuck do you get money like that?" he asked, and then
thought better of it. "I don't want to know."

Dave waited, sighing as Peter got his money back. He really didn't
need this right now. They didn't get along and this was bound to be
something bad -- unless Peter was drunk and horny, but today he was
clearly neither.

"Here," Peter said, giving him crumpled twenties.

"What is this about?" Dave asked, before stepping close and smiling.
"Wanna fuck?"

Peter actually looked disgusted, and a part of Dave felt that way for
an instant before he regained his composure. "I wanted to talk to you
about John."

"That virgin you brought to the club a couple weeks ago?"

"Yeah," Peter snapped, angry and defensive. "The one you brought into
the back room. What did you do to him back there? Did you make him do
any drugs? Did you do anything with those scumb bags back there?"

"What??" Dave asked, incredulous. "No. He left almost as soon as we
got inside. Why, did he say something? 'Cause if he did, that *kid's*
a scumb bag for -- "

Abruptly, Peter pushed him up against the chemistry building they'd
been talking behind, his hands on Dave's shirt, body flush to his. It
stole the breath from him and for a moment he was scared before
remembering himself and smiling.

"Peter, I didn't know you liked it rough," he said, hearing the tremor
in his voice and hating himself for it.

"Go near him again and I'll fuck you up, Malucci," Peter hissed, his
usually handsome features contorted with anger. "I mean it."

"Okay," Dave replied, his hands raised in surrender. He could tell by
Peter's face that the response wasn't good enough. "I promise. You
know I'll keep my word."

"Good," Peter said, letting him go. "See you in class."

"Yeah." Dave watched him go, before thinking better of it. "Peter."
The man turned back. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Peter shrugged. It was too late now.

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John felt bad. Well, that wasn't entirely true, he'd been too scared
leaving the club to really remember what had happened and wether or
not he'd offended Dave by running out so suddenly with his tail
between his legs. He'd just been so startled, so new to all of this,
and now he was kicking himself for acting like a true virgin.

"Peter!" he'd cried, finding his new friend at the bar talking with
another man. Michael had already gone home with his latest trick, that
guy with the ugly face and big dick.

"What??" Peter had asked, the look on his face showing his concern
over John's apparent horror. "What is it, what's wrong??"

"I went into the back room," he replied, out of breath. Peter looked
at him. "Do you know what they're doing back there??"

"Who brought you in there?" Peter asked, and suddenly he shook his
head. "I told you to stay away from that kid, didn't I? Did he do
anything?"

John nodded. He'd been doing drugs but he didn't want to get Dave into
trouble. "I'm going home."

"John, what happened?" his friend asked, concerned.

"Nothing, I'm going home."

After that he'd raced home, only seeing how silly he'd acted in the
morning. Now he was too embarassed to go back to the club, fearing
he'd see Dave again. Not that it mattered, he knew the beautiful boy
probably wasn't interested in him anymore. That was what concerned him
most of all.

It bothered him too. It was the only thing he thought about during the
day, keeping him so distracted during class he didn't even hear the
professors calling his name half the time. When he got home he
couldn't concentrate on his homework, doodling lines in the margins
while he stared off into space. And to top it all off, it kept him up
at night. He would lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and replying the
night over and over in his head. He'd go over how much of a dork he'd
been, running out and practically crying for mommy. Over and over he
could see himself. "Peter! Do you know what they're doing in there?"
Well, what did he *think* they were doing back there??

It would all run through his head until he was exhausted. And when the
shadows of sleep would creep up into the edges of his mind, when he
couldn't think anymore, he would remember the dancing. THe way Dave
had held him close, fingers through his hair, his other hand gripping
at John's back. And those hips -- God, those hips against his, that
thigh against his groin, pressing into his erection, teasing him,
making him ache. Before he knew it, John would be grabbing his cock
under the sheets, stroking himself until he came so sweetly, wishing
so badly that Dave was there with him. It was only then that he would
fall asleep, the beautiful boy the last thing on his mind.

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