Inquiry and Addiction

The unfortunate fact of the matter was that Jimmy MacElroy, star figure skater, was probably gay. What made it worse was that his girlfriend had to tell him.

"It's okay, Jimmy," Katie said soothingly, sitting next to him on her bed and putting a hand on his arm. "I mean, it's not like I never suspected it. I'm okay. We can still be friends."

"It's not okay!" Jimmy covered his face with his hands, his mind reeling too much to deal with visual stimuli. "I can't be gay, Katie! What if the media finds out? What if Chazz finds out?"

"Jimmy, I don't think the media will really care. You're a figure skater." Jimmy made as if to protest, but she cut him off before he could. "You wore a peacock-themed suit a few years ago. I think they probably expected you to be gay."

"I was a male peacock," he protested weakly.

"You were colorful and you had feathers on your butt." Well, if you put it that way, everything Jimmy did sounded gay, and— Oh crap.

"What about Chazz?" he asked quietly.

"He really, really cares about you, Jimmy." Katie smiled, glad, in a way, that she wasn't the only one who loved Jimmy — he could be a handful sometimes. "I don't think he'll mind if you prefer men."

They sat in silence for a moment, Jimmy trying to gather his thoughts. Well, not being able to get it up for a girl didn't necessarily mean he was gay, right? And technically the outfits didn't mean anything. Really. Maybe it was just that he wasn't attracted to Katie. Maybe he needed something different. Maybe Asian girls. Or fat girls. Or girls with eyepatches. Or maybe he just wasn't attracted to anyone. Or—

"Then again, he has had his face in your crotch..." Katie said slowly.

All right. Whatever it was, he was not going to tell Chazz.

Jimmy wasn't sure who it belonged to. At first he thought it might have been Chazz's, but they were still living with Coach and it was entirely possible that he had just accidentally left it there... or that Chazz had found it and not bothered to return it when he finished with it. In any case, he was sure they wouldn't miss it for a few minutes. It was just a test.

So, after a moment of hesitation, he snatched the porn magazine off the coffee table and hurried as quickly and quietly as he could to the room he was still sharing with Chazz. Thankfully, Chazz was out... doing something. Jimmy didn't bother to ask where he was going, since the answer — when he had — tended to involve the words "lady friend" and make him feel a little queasy. And that was not a good sign.

Then the nervousness hit him and he spent far too long fluffing his pillow. What if he couldn't get it to work? If he couldn't tell Chazz... Oh, damn it, he was never getting laid.

With a deep breath, he opened the magazine to a random page.

He was greeted with an eyeful of a two-page ad. Well, it looked like the newest Honda model didn't turn him on, anyway. That was reassuring.

He turned the page, and there it was. The face of destiny. The boobs of destiny. The flat, shiny stomach of destiny. The— oh, God. He didn't want to look destiny in the vagina. It went against everything he knew, and he'd never even seen one before, and— but there it was. The vagina of destiny.

Nothing happened. He tried to concentrate. What would it be like to have sex with her? To feel her lips, her mouth, everywhere? What would it be like to have her legs— Jeez, her hair was bad. She could have used some Mane and Tail on that blond mess.

Frustrated, Jimmy turned the page. A redhead. Well, at least her hair was good. And she was definitely a natural redhead.

And she was definitely not turning him on.

"One last try," Jimmy muttered, but as he made to turn the page, another glossy sheet slipped out. Its edges were ripped, and for a moment Jimmy's only thought was "I broke it!" Then his only thought was "Wow."

Apparently whoever owned the magazine was just as troubled as he was, because there on his lap was a full page of a man sitting next to a desk in an office, coffee mug in hand and completely naked.

Well, okay, he had a tie on.

The tie, however, did nothing to keep his eyes off of Jimmy, or to cover up the hard-on that what he saw apparently gave him. And he was big. Kind of scary-big, even. Jimmy didn't have anyone to compare him to in that respect except himself and Chazz — kind of, anyway — but he could tell that much. He wasn't going to complain, though.

He didn't get the chance to really enjoy the view, though. Before he could register the sound of the doorknob turning, Chazz was in the room, eyes on the magazine. "Hey, is that my—?"

Instinctively, Jimmy pulled the magazine to his chest, as though that would somehow keep Chazz from seeing it at all. That, however, left the man in the tie completely exposed on his lap. Jimmy would have cursed if he could have found any voice at all in that moment.

Chazz stared for just a second, and then turned. "Nope. Not mine."

"Wait!" Chazz stopped in the doorway, his hand still on the knob. He didn't look up. "Chazz, I think I'm gay. Well, actually, Katie thought I was gay, but now I think I know."

"Good for you," Chazz replied, then paused again. "Does that mean Katie's free?"

Jimmy sat up, setting the magazine and the hot-guy-in-the-tie to the side. "I'm being serious." At least Chazz wasn't reacting as badly as Jimmy had thought he might have.

"So I am! Your ex-lady friend is hot." And there was that queasy feeling. Even if they weren't still together, the idea of Katie and Chazz becoming Katie and Chazz was not at all appealing. "And you know even she can barely resist Chazz Michael Michaels."

"It doesn't bother you?" Sometimes, the best way to deal with Chazz was selective hearing. Extremely selective hearing.

"Jimmy, if I can handle your balls in my face, I can handle your balls in someone else's face."

Jimmy waited just a second for Chazz to notice his own unfortunate wording, but he didn't seem like he would, so he got up from the bed, crossing over to him. "You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. We're bros, dude. We've got that whole brother...ship... thing. And besides, I've become totally immune to that sort of thing. You can't get your gay on me."

He turned to leave again, but Jimmy caught his arm. "If that's the case, then I need to see something."

Without waiting for a reaction, he pulled on Chazz's arm, bringing him down to eye level, and kissed him. His technique had improved considerably in his time around Chazz, and — well, the lessons had helped. In an instant mouths were open, Jimmy licking at Chazz's tongue experimentally. Before Chazz had a chance to properly react, though, he pulled back, letting go of his partner's arm.

"Yeah, I'm gay," Jimmy said, exhaling slowly. It had felt so much different with Katie — and tasted different, too. As it turned out, the taco meat thing wasn't just a smell.

Chazz was breathing as though he'd just run five miles on the treadmill. When he put a hand on his chest, Jimmy took a half-step forward, eyes going wide.

"Are you okay?"

"Jimmy." Chazz put a hand up to stop him, still panting. "You can't do something like that to a sex addict."

"But you said—"

"I didn't mean it like that!" He closed his eyes, breathing in carefully, and stood up straight. "You scared me."

"I thought you only liked women," Jimmy said, still worried. He had just meant to see, for sure — because he couldn't be sure if he didn't really try it, right?

"I'm a sex addict, not a sex-with-hot-babes-addict," Chazz explained, still looking a little winded. "And that's my magazine."

Jimmy blushed. It was just there, on his bed, glossy two-dimensional breasts and cock visible to anyone who might enter the room. He'd have to move it soon, just in case Coach came around, but first he had to do... something for Chazz. "I — I didn't know. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Chazz groaned. "You can not ask questions like that."

Jimmy furrowed his brow. "Like what?"

"Like you wanna help with this." He gestured to the front of his jeans, which were just slightly tented in the front.

Oh. "Oh."

"Yeah. I'm just gonna..." Chazz jerked a thumb over his shoulder, pointing out the door, and took a step away, but Jimmy caught his arm again. Chazz groaned again. At the rate they were going, he was never getting out of the room.

"I could," Jimmy said, quickly. "I mean, I could help. It's my fault, right?"

The other man's eyes met his, and Chazz made a sound that was neither agreement or disagreement — just "uhn." Jimmy figured that was good enough.

Tentatively, his slid his hand up Chazz's arm, stopping only when he reached his shoulder. He pulled him down again, pausing only once, when they were close enough to feel each other's breath on their lips, and then tilted his head, rising up to meet the larger man.

It started slow, with Chazz's hands coming to his sides, thumbs pressing into him. Jimmy used his tongue as a lure for Chazz's, drawing it into his mouth to suck, enjoying the feel of it against his own much more than he thought he would. He wasn't entirely familiar with what arousal felt like, since he was forced, as a teen, to restrict his masturbation sessions to five minutes, since that was all he was allowed in the bathroom at any one time and he was pretty sure his room had cameras in it, and sometimes he could remember the faces of the nuns at the orphanage after they'd found one of the older boys sans pants in the confessional. He had never really expected it to feel so good to get a taste of what Chazz had so often, or to get a taste of Chazz.

But things couldn't stay slow for long — not with Chazz Michael Michaels involved. Jimmy's heart pounded in fear and a little bit of anticipation when Chazz pushed him back, turning him slightly so that he was against the wall, following him all the way and not letting their lips part for a second. There were hands on his ass and it felt almost like Chazz wanted to try to reach his soul with his tongue, which was vaguely unpleasant but Jimmy couldn't really protest. There was a tongue in his mouth, after all.

The hands squeezed for a moment before moving down his thighs, tugging slightly until Jimmy got the hint. When his legs were secured around Chazz's waist, he leant back, a twinge of fear fluttering through him as he regained some control over himself. He had been so ready with Katie, and since he finally knew how it was supposed to feel he couldn't really stop himself. Especially when the bulge in Chazz's pants was not only more prominent than it had been after their initial kiss, but also pressed against his ass. Still, it was pretty sudden, and... "Where the hell are we going to do this?"

They both looked at the floor, and Jimmy cringed. It wasn't dirty, but it couldn't be comfortable... or really clean. "Chazz does not do floors."

The beds? The look on Chazz's face said no, and he couldn't help but agree — there just wasn't enough space for anything involving more than one person.

"...Coach is out."

"What? No! We are not doing — this on Coach's bed!"

"Oh, yes we are." Jimmy nearly lost balance as Chazz pulled him away from the wall, clinging to Chazz's shoulders at just the last moment. "If we're doing it tonight, I'm driving this sex machine."

"This is wrong," Jimmy said when Chazz kicked the door to Coach's room open. "He's — he's like a father to us — to me, at least!"

"Tonight, Chazz Michaels is your daddy." The thought was neither comforting or arousing, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. Without warning, he was dropped onto the end of Coach's bed. Before he could complain about the rough treatment, Chazz took over again, rubbing Jimmy's crotch with his large palm, leering down at the smaller man. "You know, when I first saw you skating, I thought you were a chick."

Jimmy glared half-heartedly, swearing in Japanese — it had been the only way he could get away with it around his father, and he'd never gotten used to properly swearing in English. It also meant Chazz wasn't about to take offense at being called a rabid chicken-fucker, so he wasn't going to stop that wonderful slow rubbing.

Or he was, maybe. Jimmy sat up, feeling impatient and wanting more. He inhaled sharply when he realized that Chazz was already taking off his clothing, his shirt already abandoned on the ground.

Okay. Clothing removal. Just another step. Cursing his virginity, Jimmy bent down to take off his socks. His blood pounded in his ears, sounding almost like heavy footsteps, and he looked toward the door, praying that Coach wouldn't be back any time soon. Chazz, stripped down to his briefs (which had his face on the front), caught his glance and shut the door. Jimmy had only just begun to take off his shirt when he turned back, a predatory look in his eyes. "Hold onto your seat, because you're about to board the Chazz Express; no stops until satisfaction."

He leaned forward, taking the edges of Jimmy's shirt from his hands and yanking it up and off. "I can do that myself, you know," Jimmy muttered, watching as Chazz threw his shirt across the room. It narrowly missed an expensive-looking lamp.

"So do it." Chazz pulled him up, taking his place on the edge of the bed. "Give me a show, Little Miss MacElroy."

"Fine, I will!" Jimmy could barely stand to be directed so coarsely, but that last command almost sounded like a dare.

But a striptease suddenly seemed much more difficult when he was standing shirtless in from of a sex addict than it had in his head. He swallowed nervously, thumbing the button of his pants. He bit his lip and ducked his head, then looked up in surprise when he heard a noise from the bed.

So shy worked on Chazz Michael Michaels. He could work with that.

He turned away and, although he wouldn't have admitted it out loud, immediately felt more comfortable. Being looked at like sexual prey was unnerving in good and bad ways. He flicked the button open, drawing down the fly slowly, letting the slow sound of it unzipping ring through the room. He had to take a deep breath when he brought his hands to his waistband, but he willed himself to be calm, to be sensual, and managed a bit of a shimmy as he pushed his pants down to his knees, letting them fall to the floor and kicking them aside.

And, okay, his briefs were not sexy. They were functional. They had to go.

Unsurprisingly, it was harder to work up the will to shake his ass as he pulled them down, nervousness catching him when they were only half-off. Chazz whistled behind him, and Jimmy remembered the air of competition about all of this. Maybe it was a little bit strange for sex to be a fight, more or less, but it gave him the courage to kick off his briefs, turn around, and shove Chazz down onto the bed. He straddled his hips, ready to take control.

Except he didn't really know how the whole gay sex thing worked. He'd barely gotten the basics of sex with a woman when he was a teenager, and he hadn't even had TV around to give him a haphazard education through raunchy jokes and lewd gestures. All he had was snippets of conversations from other skaters and a few offhand insults Chazz had offered, and he wasn't about to put any faith in the validity of that information. "Have you done this before?"

"A few times, when I was really drunk," Chazz said casually, as though it wasn't as big a deal it had seemed in their room. "Like, completely wasted."

Jimmy rolled his eyes. "Do you remember it? What to do, I mean?"

"Of course I remember. It's nothing I haven't done with any of the Chazzettes." He moved under Jimmy, and it took the other skater a moment to realize he'd gotten rid of his briefs, too. Grinning in victory, he waved a condom in front of Jimmy's face.

"How did you—?"

"You never know when you'll end up in Mexico with only your underwear and a sombrero on," Chazz answered, smirk firmly set in place. "I came out of that with a belly full of tequila and a nasty rash."

Jimmy snatched the condom away. He wasn't going to end up with a rash, even if they weren't in Mexico. He fumbled with the wrapping for a moment before Chazz grabbed it back, tearing it open with his teeth and pushing Jimmy back. Positioned awkwardly over Chazz's knees, he watched as the other man rolled the condom onto himself. "Hey, wait, I thought—"

"You will not be riding this ass tonight," Chazz answered, reaching back to Coach's bedside table, shuffling blindly through the contents of the top drawer.

Jimmy barely resisted making a comment about asses. "But I'm on top!"

"You're in the perfect position for me to work my magic. Aha!" Jimmy didn't quite recognize the tube, but he guessed it was— "Lube. You're going to need it, unless you want to feel Not-So-Little Chazz up your ass for days."

He handed the tube over, but Jimmy only stared at it. "What do I...?"

"Do me first," Chazz instructed, wriggling his hips. Still feeling like this was some sort of challenge, Jimmy uncapped it, squeezing more than enough into his hand before wrapping it — perhaps a little harshly — around Chazz's dick. Immediately the other man's eyes closed, and when he stroked slightly, just enough to get the lube to coat him, Chazz moaned in appreciation. "That's it. Show me what you've got."

Once satisfied that he'd covered Chazz well enough, Jimmy sat back, his knees on either side of Chazz's thighs. "What else?"

"You've gotta get yourself, too, princess." At Jimmy's confused look, he continued, "Your ass, Jimmy. You've gotta be slick and stretched before the Chazz train can enter the station."

"My ass? You want me to stick my fingers up my ass?"

"That's pretty much how it goes, yeah."

"No way." He wasn't ready to back out, but it was a little more than he'd expected. He and his ass were close by nature, but he'd never really gotten to know it very intimately, nor had he ever wanted to.

"I could do it for you," Chazz offered, and that was enough to make Jimmy squeeze the tube again, getting even more into his palm than before.

"No, I'll do it," he said hurriedly. He winced a little at the feeling of lube on his ass, and when he realized he wasn't getting anywhere Chazz helpfully sat halfway up, cupping each cheek in his hands, pulling them apart just enough to give him better access.

"I did always like your ass, MacElroy." Oh, good, they were back to surnames, just like they'd been when they wanted to rip each other's throats out. "It's firmer than most girls'. I watched it in Jesse's dance lessons more than I watched the moves."

Jimmy hadn't gotten far — he only had the tip of the second finger in — but after a comment like that, he wasn't going to wait. He pushed Chazz back down with both hands, crawling up just enough so that he could raise himself above Chazz's cock and sit.

The first brush of the head of it made him jump back up, but Chazz's hands were still on his ass and that calmed him down a little, somehow. He felt like he was in good hands, though the logical part of his mind shouted otherwise. Taking one last long, deep breath, his sat slowly, pausing a few times to adjust before he was able to continue.

It wasn't anything like he'd expect. It hurt. It hurt a lot. He had also thought there would be more kissing in sex, more touching and feeling. And that the one on top would be the one doing all the entering. Mostly, though, it was the hurt than made his erection fade in nothingness. "It feels like a freight train in my ass."

"I told you." But Chazz didn't force him to move. He waited, hands squeezing slightly now and then, for Jimmy to calm, to adjust to the feeling of having someone else's dick buried in him. When Jimmy let out a sigh, muscles relaxing slightly, he moved his hands to his hips, lifting him up as best he could before bringing him back down. Jimmy gave a shuddering exhale as he came back down, closing his eyes when the pain came back, less intense than before. They did it again, Jimmy helping to raise himself with his knees, lowering himself quicker than the last time.

Jimmy could only identify the practical functions of the prostate, and Chazz didn't exactly know the word — at best guess, he would have said "phosphate." It was an unfortunate thing, because it put Jimmy at a lack of words to describe the wonderful pleasure of having Chazz's cock brush against it. Fire ran through his body, and his cock began to stir again. The next thrust down missed it, and Jimmy put his hands on Chazz's forearms, bracing and angling himself. He had to feel that again.

Three more times — not that Jimmy was counting or anything (except he might have been) — and Chazz's right hand left his hip, going almost cautiously to his dick. He'd been with other men before, yeah, but it wasn't the same when he was sober and completely aware of the fact that it was another guy. It seemed like common courtesy to him to help out a little, but the feel of someone else's dick in his hand was unfamiliar at best.

Jimmy dropped forward slightly, his left hand by Chazz's shoulder, and stared into his eyes as he dropped down again, biting his lip. This was more what he'd imagined, except...

He pulled Chazz up by the neck with his right hand, leaning down as much as he could while keeping the angle just right, meeting Chazz's thrusting hips just as their tongues met, and Jimmy closed his eyes.

It was a lot to take in as a virgin — former virgin. The sensations every touch to his prostate ignited, the feel of someone else's hand on his cock, and it didn't take long for him to reach his breaking point, coming quick and hard. He felt a faint sense of victory knowing that he had just come on Chazz Michael Michaels, and he broke away from Chazz's mouth to admire his work. It helped him get better leverage, too, and he could reach back with one hand to just barely caress the other man's balls.

For a few moments Jimmy was afraid that Chazz had meant he could never be satisfied literally, but when he ran his hands over his stomach — his soft stomach, which the training hadn't helped too much, even though it had given him more muscle — and over his chest, brushing his nipples, Chazz's eyes crossed and he jerked up. Unknown to him as his was, Jimmy still knew what that feeling was. Chazz let out a long, low groan before his arched back settled back onto the bed, and after a moment Jimmy rose up and off, settling beside him.

It was quiet, and Jimmy was almost afraid something had been ruined between them, but when he heard Chazz start to snore he relaxed. Sleep. It seemed like a good idea, and he couldn't think of any good reason not too. He wasn't coherent enough to realize that they were still on Coach's bed, Chazz covered in semen with the condom still on, Jimmy's ass still coated with lube. It wouldn't be comfortable waking up, but he was too comfortable in that moment to care.

It was a lucky thing that Jesse opened the door, intending to look for a scarf he'd left behind the other day. He paused a moment, backtracking quickly and pulling the door closed with him.

"You don't want to go in there," he said to Coach, not meeting his eyes.

"Why not? It's my room." Jesse put a hand on his chest to keep him from shoving past and barging in. Nothing good would come of that.

"You might want to burn the bed. It looks like they made it theirs."

"They...?" Coach paled. "Oh, God.

Jesse remained optimistic. "Well... now they'll skate together better than ever. All their boundaries are gone."

"But what if they argue? Those two together are more volatile than nitroglycerin!"

"It'll work out all right," Jesse reassured, patting him on the shoulder.

"How do you figure?"

"Make-up sex."

Coach was silent.

"What? You know it's the best."

Coach turned on his heel, hurrying away from the room as fast as possible. "You want a beer, Jesse? I need a beer. Far, far away from here."

"Can't I get a margarita?"

"Whatever you want, so long as you never mention either of those boys and make-up sex again."