"I thought you were more adventurous than that, Pete."

"I *like* vanilla ice cream," Smoke protested.

Jazz laughed. "You could at least add sprinkles."

Smoke gasped melodramatically and clutched his chest. "Quelle outrage! Chocolate sprinkles on *vanilla* ice cream? That's…disgusting!"

Jazz stared at Smoke in disbelief, then patted him on the arm. "Admit it, Pete. You're weird."

James leaned over and kissed Smoke, his thumb rubbing affectionately at the corner of his mouth. "No, he's not. He's a purist. Aren't you, Pete?"

Jazz cast a suspicious look in James' direction. "How does that explain the way he feels about *you*?"

Smoke chuckled and pulled away from James. "Yeah…how did I end up with you? You don't taste the least little bit like…vanilla."

Jazz fidgeted and played with the fine silver chain that always hung around his neck. "Um, guys? That's a little too much information."

"Maybe you should go to bed," James said pointedly.

"Maybe we all should," Smoke agreed, warming his blue-gray gaze on his lover's face.

"I am *so* out of here," Jazz threw over his shoulder as he left the living room to his adoptive fathers.

"Say g'nite, Pete."

"I'm not sleepy."

"One way or another, you're getting in that bed," James growled, forcing Smoke to back up.

"Ooh, I think I like you this way, Jamie."

James bent his head to Smoke's neck and sucked hard. Smoke groaned and fisted his hands in James' shirt. "You don't need to mark me, Jamie. You know I'm yours," he whispered.

James immediately kissed the bruise he'd made, his tongue swiping gingerly at the spot. "Didn't mean to hurt you, baby."

Smoke pushed back so he could look into his lover's eyes. "You didn't hurt me." He ran his booted foot up the inside of James' leg and noted the anticipatory shiver this produced. He pressed his knee against James' groin, just hard enough to feel good.

"But I didn't want to come so fast."

James' deep cobalt eyes grew heated. "Did I almost do that?"

"Uh huh."

James pulled him back into his arms and tangled his hands in Smoke's long black hair. They kissed, mouths seeking and searching and finding each other again and again. Warm, wet, open-mouthed kisses that drove both of them to breathlessness and the brink of climax.

Smoke panted in James' ear as he struggled for control. "Bed. Please."

They fell onto the bed together, James on top of Smoke, his tongue pushing deeper inside his lover's mouth. Smoke opened for him and they kissed rapaciously, each one seemingly determined to devour the other.

Their lovemaking was more often slow and gentle than not, but always intense. Still half-clothed, they thrust towards completion without thought. James felt an urgent need to claim Smoke and Smoke reacted emotionally to that unspoken plea.

When Smoke came apart in his arms, James toppled over the edge as well, seeing nothing but love reflected in his beloved's eyes. Smoke groaned when he surveyed the mess they'd made of the bed, but James chuckled in between fervent kisses.

"What are you laughing about? We're both wet and…sticky."

"I love you."

"I love you, too. But this was—"

"Different? Messy?" James punctuated each word with another kiss.

"Yeah, but—"

"We can clean up after."

"After what?" Smoke asked, receiving an ardent kiss for his question. "Jamie…after *what*?"

"After…the next time."

"You're still hot," Smoke murmured as James nudged his lips apart.

"Oh, yeah, baby."

"Mmm…you realize what this means, don't you?"

"What?"

"You're definitely not vanilla."

"Does that mean you don't love me?"

"Uh-uh, means I'm going to have to broaden my horizons the next time we have ice cream."

"They did what?"

"They turned eating vanilla ice cream into something out of the Kama Sutra, man. I swear, one minute Pete is channeling Jane Eyre, y'know, very Gothic and all, and the next he's doing Tom Jones."

"Jane Eyre? Tom Jones?" Adam asked, giving Jazz a quizzical look.

"Y'know, Adam, it wouldn't hurt you to read once in a while."

"I read."

"What do you read? The backs of your bubblegum wrappers?" Jazz quipped.

"Anyway, get back to the good stuff," Adam urged.

"What good stuff? You mean, James and Pete? They're too hot for words, man."

"I know," Adam said, nudging his lover's half-naked body with his knee. "Gives me hope."

"Hope?"

"That there's sex after thirty."

Jazz smiled, that mischievous half-smile that sent heat spiraling directly to Adam's groin. "You still think we'll be together?"

"Better be. You promised me forever." Adam pulled Jazz closer and nuzzled his neck. "Didn't you, baby?"

"Mmm…bite me."

"And bruise that pretty skin? No way."

"I want you to."

Adam drew back sharply. "Why?"

"I like wearing your mark. I like knowing I belong to you…and no one else."

Adam's fingertips grazed the side of Jazz' neck. "It makes me hard when you say things like that."

"I know," Jazz breathed against Adam's mouth before saucily licking his lover's lips.

When Adam leaned forward to kiss Jazz, Jazz rolled over onto his back, giggling. Adam quickly followed, murmuring, "It's not nice to tease someone who can hurt you."

Suddenly Jazz stilled, all laughter gone. "Would you? Hurt me, I mean?"

Adam shook his head at once. "No, baby, no. I was just kidding."

Jazz reached up and pulled Adam's head down for a kiss. Adam meant to keep things light. After all, they were on Jazz' bed in Jazz' room. The door *was* locked, but James and Smoke were home.

However, he hadn't counted on the desperation in Jazz' kiss. The younger teen was alternately licking and kissing Adam in an obvious attempt to seduce him. Normally, Adam wouldn't mind at all, but he had a feeling that his careless remark had triggered off something deep inside Jazz.

"Nicky, you know I would never hurt you, right?"

Jazz fell away from him with a soft whimper. "Y-yeah."

"I love you."

"I-I love y-you, t-too."

"I mean it, Nick. I'm never going to leave you. I'm going to be right here. Forever."

Jazz hiccuped in an evident attempt to stifle a sob. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, but it couldn't disguise the restless movement of his chest. When Adam managed to pry Jazz' hands away, he could see that Jazz' eyelashes were spiky with tears he refused to let fall. "I-I'm n-not crying."

"I know," Adam lied, stroking the soft pad of his finger over Jazz' reddened eyes.

"Are you going to be okay?" Adam added a moment later.

Jazz nodded solemnly. "As long as you're here with me."

"I'll always be here with you."

Something broke inside of Jazz and he arched forward, clinging to Adam as he wept. "I'm s-sorry."

Adam pulled his lover into a half-sitting position and gently wrapped his arms around him. "Ssh. You have nothing to be sorry for, Nick. If anyone should be sorry, it's me. I must have said or done something—"

"No, no, it's me. It's always me." Jazz sniffled and lay his head on Adam's shoulder. "Here we are. We have privacy. We could make love if we wanted. And I had to go spoil it."

"Nicky, do you think that if we don't have sex, I'll take off? I *love* you. I *love* being with you."

"You mean that?"

"Of course I mean it. I asked you to marry me, didn't I?" Adam asked softly.

Jazz' hands tightened their grasp on Adam's T-shirt. "You'd still be with me…even if I couldn't—"

Adam felt Jazz' pain as if it were his own. He lay his lover back down on the bed. Then he pulled his T-shirt over his head, exposing his bare chest and the small gold cross that hung at his neck.

With tender fingers, Adam closed Jazz' eyes, his thumbs gently wiping wetness away. Bending over him almost reverently, Adam whispered, "Even if you couldn't…I could still do this."

As if to punctuate what he said, Adam pressed a kiss to each eyelid. "And this." Then he slid his mouth along Jazz' fine cheekbones to his jawline before he kissed his chin.

"Oh, Adam." Jazz opened his eyes, filled with fresh tears, and gazed helplessly at his lover.

A tear fell from Adam's eyes and landed on Jazz' face. Adam leaned forward and licked the spot, the tip of his tongue warm and wet and somehow soothing.

"I will always love you…and need you…and want you," Adam whispered brokenly.

Jazz closed his eyes and the rest of the hot tears streaked down his cheeks, making him look like the tragic angel that Adam often thought him to be. With a muffled cry, Adam buried his face against Jazz' neck.

They fell asleep, their half-clothed bodies inextricably intertwined, Adam's haunting declaration echoing in Jazz' head long after he succumbed to dreaming.

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