Warning: This story is rated (R) for non-graphic erotic content (ie, boys having sex).

***

"We have reservations," Hunter told the girl behind the desk. "Hunter Bradley."

"First floor or second?" she inquired, clicking her tongue ring against her teeth.

"First," Cam put in before Hunter could answer. He was hovering impatiently, backpack over one shoulder and his guitar case propped against the desk at his feet. "As long as it's non-smoking."

"Smoking is prohibited inside the building," she answered, without looking up. "There's a designated smoking area under the portico out back. That'll be $113.90."

"I've got it," Hunter said when Cam started to look for his wallet. "You can pay me later."

"You're in room 111." The girl tossed her dreads out of her face, trading Hunter's cash for two mismatched plastic cards. "Checkout time is at noon on Sunday. Enjoy your stay."

"Thanks," Cam called over his shoulder, already halfway across the lobby by now. Hunter caught up easily, pushing the glass doors open and waiting for Cam to shoulder his way through.

Cam turned left, and Hunter followed him without question. He had learned long ago that Cam didn't hesitate, whether he had any idea what he was doing or not. And unless Hunter had specific information to the contrary, Cam didn't appreciate being second-guessed.

Sure enough, 111 was in the left wing of the building, and Hunter wondered if Cam had seen some diagram of the building's layout that he'd missed. Or maybe he'd just figured it was fifty-fifty, which it was, and it was just as easy to go back as it was to actually ask someone, which it wasn't. Either way, he'd guessed right, and Hunter stuck one of the cards into the lock.

The light flashed green and he pushed the door open, gesturing for Cam to go ahead. When Cam tried to hold the door for him, though, he shook his head and held up the second key. Cam understood, and the door closed and locked behind him.

The other card worked just as well, and he handed it off to Cam as he joined him inside. "Not bad," he said, glancing around the room approvingly. "For a hundred bucks? Motels are cheaper here than the rent in Blue Bay Harbor."

He could almost hear Cam roll his eyes. "If you'd just get a roommate," he began.

"Yeah, yeah." Hunter dropped his duffel bag by the bureau and went over to pull back the curtains. "I like my space, all right? Hey, check out this amazing view of the parking lot."

"We're not paying for the view," Cam pointed out. He took a look anyway, then offered something to Hunter. "Speaking of which, here's my half for the room."

"Thanks," Hunter said absently, stuffing it into his pocket without counting it. Turning away from the view of the parking lot, he added, "So do you want the window or the wall?"

"Doesn't matter." Cam sidled over to the air conditioner, studying it for a moment before cranking it on. The room was stuffy, and the only alternative was opening the window to parking lot fumes. "I'll get the rest of the stuff from the truck if you want to call Blake."

"Deal," Hunter agreed, kicking his duffel toward the bed by the window. Cam got cold easily, and no matter how much he played with the temperature he was rarely without long sleeves by evening.

Throwing himself across the bed, he grabbed the phone from its cradle and punched in Blake's number. "Got your key?" he called after Cam. He got a wave in return, just before the door slammed shut and locked automatically.

"Insanity HQ," a familiar voice said in his ear. "Blake speaking."

"Hey bro," Hunter said with a grin, rolling over on his back to stare up at the ceiling. "We just checked in. We're getting stuff out of the truck now."

"Hunter!" Blake's greeting was echoed in the background by several high-pitched and very female shrieks. "You don't know how glad I am to hear from you, man. I'll be over in a few minutes."

"Whenever," Hunter assured him. "Motel 6, right off the interstate. We're in 111."

"Got it. Any word from Shane and Dustin?"

Hunter glanced over at the bureau and shook his head, though he knew Blake couldn't see it. "Cam's got the phone, but I don't think so. Were they gonna get here early?"

"Tor!" Hunter held the phone away from his ear as Blake shouted without warning. "What time were Shane and Dustin going to get in?"

There was a pause, through which he could hear muffled voices and what was probably frenetic activity, and then Blake's voice came back. "She said they were planning to be here by two, but Dustin was driving, so give 'em an extra hour."

Hunter lifted his left hand over his head, considering the digital readout. 3:13. Well, that was Dustin for you. "Right," he said aloud. "Well, we're here, so come on over when you're ready."

"Will do." Blake actually sounded relieved. "See you, bro."

"Later," Hunter agreed. Upside down, he replaced the phone without sitting up, and a moment later he heard he lock click. He tilted his head back, watching Cam cross the room with formal wear over one arm and a second backpack in the other.

"Blake's on his way," Hunter offered. "He hasn't heard from Shane or Dustin, though."

"Surprise," Cam said dryly, slipping the hangars onto the bar by the window. He turned to retrace his steps, dropping the backpack by his bed and fishing something out of his pocket. "I'll try Shane's cell."

Hunter waited, wondering how much food they were going to need to make it until dinner. He had no idea how long the rehearsal would take, but he certainly didn't believe Tori when she said they'd be eating by six. Maybe he could hit the fast food place down the road before they left.

"Where are you?" Cam asked abruptly. Then, after a pause, he added, "We've already checked in. Blake's on his way over."

Cam rolled his eyes, though in response to what Hunter couldn't tell. "You said you'd be here by two," he reminded the phone. "You can't have gotten that lost."

Hunter grinned. "They probably didn't leave till two," he muttered. Cam must have heard, because he nodded in emphatic agreement.

"We'll still be here," he said at last. He lowered the phone from his ear and tossed it on the table between their beds, catching Hunter's eye as they did so.

"They had to pick something up before they left," Cam remarked. "Apparently it took an hour and a half. But according to Shane--" the emphasis indicated how reliable he thought that source was-- "they're almost here."

"Great," Hunter said, sitting up. "I want some food. You hungry?"

And that discussion, as it always did, took longer than any normal conversation ought to. Which was why he had brought it up as soon as possible. They were still arguing over the merits of various eating establishments, grocery and take-out options when Blake arrived. Hunter greeted him with open arms.

"Blake!" he exclaimed, hauling him inside. "Where do we eat around here?"

"Congratulations," Cam called from around the corner. "Good to see you, been a long time, tell your brother he can't eat fried chicken for three days straight."

Blake just grinned, returning Hunter's bear hug and allowing himself to be shepherded out of the entryway and into the actual room. "Cam," he greeted the other with a nod, and Cam got to his feet to shake his hand. "Good to see you too, man. And thanks."

"Just glad to be here," Cam replied with a genuine smile.

"Glad but hungry," Hunter put in, not about to lose sight of the original conversation. It could go on for hours, and Blake was the perfect arbitrator. "Got any suggestions, bro?"

Voices in the hallway were obvious enough to make all of them pause, and a moment later Dustin's distinctive tone was easily recognizable. "They just don't have the same feeling," he was saying. "I don't know what you're hearing, dude, but a band's gotta have some emotion in their songs or it's like, what's the point?"

"They've got plenty of emotion," Shane's voice argued. "They're practically the kings of emotional rock!"

Hunter shot a sideways glance and Blake and found his brother looking back. "They sound gayer than I do," Hunter muttered, making no move toward the door. "You sure they don't swing that way?"

"They do have girlfriends," Cam reminded him, turning his back as he crossed the entryway.

"I had a girlfriend," Hunter called after him. "What does that prove?"

"That you have no taste?" Cam stepped out into the hallway, letting go of the door for a moment. They could hear him saying something to Shane and Dustin, his voice getting farther away as the door settled against its frame but didn't quite close.

"Dude," Blake said quietly. "Is he--?" He jerked his head at the door.

"Nah," Hunter said with a grimace. "He's still on the fence. He just didn't like Melissa, is all."

"Can't believe he doesn't date," Blake said, frowning. "He's got the best of both worlds, right? Why doesn't he take advantage of it?"

"Oh, he dates," Hunter muttered. "He's got girls and guys lining up for a turn. He's just... Cam. Hasn't found anyone he likes more than his computer, y'know?"

"He likes you," Blake pointed out. Hunter caught a speculative look on his face, but nothing more. Blake wasn't teasing.

"He likes me as a friend," he countered. "And that's not exactly breaking news. Everyone else moved out and moved on. Of course we're gonna hang out."

"So?" Blake prodded. "Maybe you should give it a try."

"What, dating?" Hunter said with a sneer. "We'd kill each other inside a week. Don't try to set me up just 'cause you found the one, bro."

The door banged open and Shane strolled in, followed closely by Dustin, who looked as though he was trying to figure out a complex math problem in his head. "Dude, I don't get it," he complained, making way for Cam as they all clustered in the entryway. "There were, like, three exits for Angel Grove. We took the one Tori told us to take, and we ended up on the AGU campus!"

"Those were the directions for tomorrow," Shane insisted. "I told you, we should have written down the motel directions when she gave them to us over the phone. The ones that came with the invitation were for guests."

"Hey, we're guests!" Dustin protested.

"We're members of the wed-ding par-ty," Shane emphasized. "Guests arrive tomorrow, dude."

Dustin lifted his hands in surrender, shaking his head. "All I know is, I was the driver, not the navigator. Someone gave me bad directions, and it wasn't Tori."

"I told you they weren't the right directions! I said, 'these are the directions to the chapel, not the motel.' But you just went ahead and followed them anyway!"

"Hey, guys," Blake interrupted. "Good to see you."

"Hey!" Dustin might as well have just noticed them. "Blake, man! Congratulations!"

"Yeah, congratulations," Shane echoed, grabbing his hand when Dustin released it. "This is gonna be one sweet wedding, huh? Hey, Hunter," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"All right, Hunter!" Dustin put up his hand, and Hunter clasped it with a grin. "Sick race at the Games, man! That was awesome! You in for next month?"

"Better believe it," Hunter responded, stacking his fist on top of Dustin's and rapping their knuckles together. "You coming? You say the word and I'll set you up."

"I'm so there!" Dustin exclaimed. "You think you can get Marah in too?"

"No problem," Hunter promised. "If I can't mail you the stuff, it'll be waiting at the gate."

"Hey, I think your room is bigger than ours!" Shane pushed past them to survey the room with a critical eye. "Guess that means this is the--" he swung back, catching Dustin's eye, and at the same time they both exclaimed, "Party room!"

"Bars do exist for a reason," Cam interjected, folding his arms as he leaned back against the doorway. "You want to drink, you can do it there."

"While we're on the subject," Hunter jumped in, before Shane could launch into a detailed description of what "the party room" involved, "who else is hungry? Cause I'm starved, and I'd just as soon bring something back here as eat on the way."

"Count me in," Dustin agreed immediately. "We saw some fast food places when we got off the highway."

"Which was almost an hour ago," Shane reminded him.

"No. Fried. Food." Cam glared at them. "I've already had enough McDonalds to last the rest of the day, thank you very much."

"There's a sub shop just down the street," Blake offered. "They've got good sandwiches and great coffee. I'll go with you, if you want."

"Nah, you've got enough running around to do. Stay here and relax for a while." Blake didn't take much convincing, and Hunter checked his pockets for his keys and his wallet while Blake gave him directions.

"I'll find it," he assured his brother. "What do you want?"

Blake was obviously there often, because he rattled off an order without having to think about it. Dustin made it easier by copying Blake's order, and Shane took a guess that Blake didn't veto. Hunter turned to Cam expectantly, but his temporary roommate just shook his head.

"Oh no," he told Hunter. "I know what happens when you get sent out for food alone. I'm going with you or you'll come back with the fastest, greasiest thing you can find."

Hunter shrugged, ignoring Blake's amused look as he shoved past the others and yanked open the door. "Suit yourself," he said, taking his room key out of his pocket before he stepped into the hallway. "But you're carrying the drinks."

"And you're paying," Cam retorted. "Dustin owes me almost thirty bucks by now."

"Hey!" The closing door cut off Dustin's exclamation, and Hunter smirked as they started down the hallway. Whenever Cam covered something for him, Hunter remembered, and he got the next bill until they were even. Cam didn't call in debts, but he did keep track. So Hunter kept track too.

"What did Blake look so smug about?" Cam asked abruptly, grabbing the door to the lobby and waiting to follow Hunter through. "Did you lose a bet over the food or something?"

Hunter got the next door. "Better than that. He thinks we should date. You and me," he clarified, in case it wasn't obvious. "I think you reminded him by volunteering to come along."

"Us?" Cam didn't seem appalled by the thought, but he was a master of the deadpan expression. "One of us would be dead in a day."

"I gave us a week," Hunter said conversationally.

"Well, one of us has to be a realist." Cam must have locked the truck on his last trip, because when he reached it he waited by the cab until Hunter got in.

He leaned over to unlock the door, and Cam added, "No offense, Hunter, but I've seen you in relationships. You make a better friend than a boyfriend."

"I make a perfectly good boyfriend," Hunter informed him, waiting until Cam fastened his seatbelt to start the truck. He braced his arm against the back of the passenger seat as they backed out, then let the truck roll down toward the bottom of the parking lot. "It's just that I'm the only one."

The eye-roll was audible. "I sincerely doubt that you're only good boyfriend in the world."

"Guess I'll just have to wait until someone proves me wrong, then." Hunter couldn't help feeling that he'd won that one. Cam didn't say a word for the rest of the ride, even when he missed the sub shop entrance and pulled in through the exit instead.

The silence ended the moment they walked inside, and Hunter went over to collect juice and soda while Cam stepped up to the counter. Hunter hadn't even bothered to remember their orders, and Cam knew it. It was probably the real reason he'd insisted on coming.

"What do you want?" Cam asked, when he finally joined him at the front of the shop. "And you're still paying, by the way."

"Not for yours, I hope," he retorted.

"I already paid." Cam made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world. "Did you get my--"

"Element, yes," Hunter interrupted, leaning over the counter to shift five bottles out of his arms and onto it without shattering anything. "I do know what you drink, y'know."

The wait was shorter than he had expected, and they made it back to the motel in plenty of time to dole out a post-lunch, pre-dinner meal. Blake was looking visibly less harassed by the time they finished eating, and Hunter had to ask. "Just how many women are there at the apartment, bro?"

Blake gave him a meaningful look. "Too. Many," he emphasized. "All the bridesmaids are there, plus Tori's mom, her grandmother, and our grandmother. Oh, and Jeike's daughter. We're gonna be seriously outnumbered."

"How old is Jeike's daughter?" Dustin wanted to know.

"Three," Blake said with a sigh. "Or four. I can't remember if she just had a birthday or if it's still coming up. She's loud, that's all I know. Too bad she's better at yelling than she is at walking in a straight line."

"Is she the flower girl?" Cam guessed.

"She's the flower princess," Blake replied. "She doesn't like being called a girl."

Hunter snickered. "She'd better get over that," he said, gathering up his sandwich wrapper and assorted other debris. "It's gonna be a long twenty years."

"Yeah, for us," Blake grumbled. "Jeike wants us to move down the coast after we graduate. I think she sees free baby-sitting in her future."

"What does Tori think of her?" Shane asked, following Hunter's lead. He tossed his trash into the garbage can they'd put between the beds.

Blake shook his head, glancing at his watch. "We're pretty much in agreement that she's cute when she sleeps. Do you guys mind if I change here? We need to be at the chapel in half an hour."

"Our room is your room," Hunter told him. "You got stuff in the car?"

"Yeah." Blake crushed his sandwich wrapper into the trash, taking a last swig of soda before the plastic bottle followed the wrapper. Hunter glanced at Cam, but Cam didn't say a word. "Thanks, bro. I'll be right back."

Dustin was brushing crumbs off his shirt as he stood, and Shane offered, "We'll meet you back here in ten?"

"Great," Blake agreed. "It won't take that long to get to the chapel from here."

He followed them out into the hallway, and Cam waited until the door closed to retrieve his soda bottle from the trash. Shane and Dustin had taken their drinks with them. "I don't know why they don't have recycling bins in these rooms," Cam muttered, putting the bottle on the bureau next to the TV.

"I was waiting for you to call him on that," Hunter said with a grin. He set his own empty juice bottle on the bureau beside Blake's. "Feeling more generous than usual?"

"He's got enough stress right now," Cam grumbled. "I'll get him next time."

Either Blake had parked in the next town, or Shane and Dustin had kept him talking in the hallway after they left, because Hunter was digging out his shoes by the time there was a knock on the door. "I'll get it," Cam said, still buttoning up his shirt as he headed for the door.

"Thanks, man," Blake said. "Bathroom open?"

"Knock yourself out," Cam answered, and Hunter winced. Since when had Blake gotten too modest to change in front of the guys? He'd better not be hearing about that later.

He sat down on the bed, stuffing his feet into his shoes and trying to remember where he'd put his comb. The only problem with a massive duffel bag was that it didn't narrow down the possibilities very much. Maybe keeping coats and suits on hangars wasn't so annoying after all--at least he knew where that stuff was.

When Blake emerged a few minutes later, the only thing he said was, "What'd you guys do with the towels?"

Hunter frowned at him in the mirror. "What d'you mean?"

"There aren't any towels in the bathroom," Blake informed him. "You're supposed to steal them just before you leave, not when you first arrive."

"We didn't steal them." Hunter peered around the door, noting the lack of towels for the first time. "That's weird. I'll ask the girl at the desk."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cam whip something out of his backpack with a flourish. "Towels," he announced. "Never leave home without them."

Hunter just shook his head, unsurprised. "Only you would bring towels to a hotel," he told the mirror, tossing his recently found comb down onto the bureau.

"I don't use hotel towels," Cam said firmly. "Do you know how many people have used them before you?"

"No," Hunter replied, "and I don't need to know. It's called bleach, Cam. Don't be such a hypochondriac."

"I'll remember that," Cam told him. "Tonight, when I'm using my nice clean towels and you're wondering why the hotel staff still hasn't managed to scrounge up any for you."

There was another knock, and Blake opened the door for Dustin and Shane. Hunter grabbed his keys and slid his wallet into the pocket of his sport coat. "You want me to give you directions?" Blake was asking Dustin.

"Nah, I got it." The sarcasm apparently went straight over Dustin's head. "We already found it once, right?"

"Right," Blake said dryly, exchanging glances with Hunter as he joined them in the entryway. "You guys all set?"

"Yeah, I think so." Hunter craned his neck around. "Cam?"

"We're good," Cam agreed, guitar in one hand and Tori's directions in the other. "Let's go."

They let Blake pull out first, hopefully negating the need for directions entirely. He pulled over when they turned toward campus and lost Dustin at the first stoplight, which Hunter thought was probably smart. Just because Dustin had "already found it once" didn't meant that he wouldn't find a way to be late the second time.

They took spaces in the nearly deserted lot one right after another, and Hunter called to Shane through the open window. "Look familiar?"

"We actually parked out behind the chapel," Shane admitted, climbing out and slamming his door shut behind him. "In one of the handicapped spaces, while we tried to figure out where we were."

"Dude, I knew where we were," Dustin objected, as they gathered behind the vehicles and followed Blake toward the building. "I just didn't know how to get anywhere else."

"Someone left the door unlocked for you?" Cam asked.

Blake had already pushed the door open, but he stepped back onto the steps as though he was looking for someone. "It's always unlocked," he said absently. "There's always someone here--there's the van!"

Tori's old blue van was turning off the campus road, and as Dustin went to wave someone came around the corner of the building. "Rosie!" Blake called, lifting an arm in greeting and jumping down the steps to greet her. "I thought you'd be inside!"

Hunter exchanged glances with Cam. Rosie?

"I had the front door open for you," the elderly woman cried, smiling as Blake strode forward to--hug her? Why hadn't he heard anything about "Rosie"?

"Hi Rosie!" Tori's voice called, and a moment later she was sliding out of the van and her female minions were spilling out behind her. "Thank you so much for letting us use the building tonight!"

"You know it's my pleasure," the woman chided, enveloping Tori in the same hug she had given Blake. "You look wonderful, Tori. And Erin--"

Rosie let Tori go, and the next girl in line stepped into her arms. Hunter shifted uncomfortably, hoping they were not all going to be subjected to this welcome. Who the heck was Rosie?

"Lovely to see you," Rosie said, patting Erin's hands as she lifted her gaze to the others gathered on and around the steps. Her eye lit on Hunter, and he would swear she noted his discomfort and was amused by it. "And Blake, this must be your brother?"

"Yeah, this is Hunter," Blake said quickly. "Hunter, Rosie. She lives here at Waysmeet, and she runs the counseling and outreach program. She's gonna perform the ceremony tomorrow."

"Pleased to meet you." Hunter offered his hand, and the effusive woman shook it solemnly.

"This is Cam," Blake continued, waiting for Cam to come forward before he added, "and Shane, and Dustin. They're my groomsmen."

Their murmured greetings were interrupted by the arrival of two more cars, the first of which prompted Kapri to shriek, "Lila's here!" And she and Marah were gone, racing across the parking lot faster than anyone should be able to in heels.

"Some things don't change," Cam muttered in his ear, and Hunter grinned.

"That'll be my mom," Tori said distractedly. Marah was already helping Jeike get her daughter out of the car, while Kapri chatted away with "Lila." Even Blake didn't call Tori's mother by her first name... although maybe "Mom" was more familiar than "Lila," Hunter didn't know.

"And our grandparents," Blake added, staring toward the parking lot to accompany them up to the building. He offered his arm to their own grandmother, escorting her across the lot while Tori's grandparents followed with assorted female friends and relatives.

Blake had been right. The men were seriously outnumbered.

This was made even clearer to him as introductions continued, degenerating rapidly into recitals of personal histories, stories of first meetings, and far too much cooing for his taste. Cam, unfortunately, maintained a polite level of interest in the proceedings, leaving him with no one to commiserate. It could be a long couple of days.

Rosie finally led them inside, taking them on a tour of the building that could have been briefer. Personally, Hunter wasn't convinced that he needed to know where the kids' playroom was, but he hesitated when he saw the markers. Sidling in while the others filed past, he snagged a red Crayola and considered the label.

"I'm pretty sure those aren't aimed at your age group," Cam's voice remarked from the doorway.

Hunter looked up, grinning at Cam's dry expression. "What do you wanna bet I can make Erin laugh during the rehearsal?"

Cam raised an eyebrow, and Hunter uncapped the marker. He drew a smiley face on his palm, then put an eyebrow over the left eye. He held up his hand for inspection. Cam's expression smoothed out, the eyebrow going down as he shook his head. "I hope that's not permanent."

"Nah," Hunter said, tossing the marker back in the box. "It's only funny the first time."

Cam stopped him before he could head for the door. "Give me a green one."

He grabbed the first green one he saw, and Cam amended sternly, "Washable."

Handing over a washable green marker, Hunter watched Cam turn over his left hand and carefully draw something on his palm. Carefully, because he was using the wrong hand, but it must have occurred to him that they might be shaking a lot more hands before the day was over. A moment later, he held up his hand for inspection.

Hunter smirked. It wasn't exactly a smiley face--or if it was, it was a smiley with a lopsided grin. Cam looked from him to his palm and back again, nodding in apparent satisfaction. "Yup," he decided. "That's the expression."

"Guys--" Shane caught the doorframe and stared in at them. "We're trying to have a rehearsal, here?"

He must have seen them exchange glances, for he added, "What are you doing?"

Hunter held up his left hand, and Shane frowned. When Cam reluctantly turned his palm up, though, Shane grinned and reached for the marker basket. "Tori's gonna kill us," he remarked conversationally.

Scribbling a wide-eyed smiley face on the inside of his left hand, he dropped the red marker and stuffed an orange one into his pocket. "Come on," he said, jerking his head toward the door. "Sensei's got nothing on Rosie when it comes to getting people in line."

He meant that literally, Hunter realized as they followed the hall to its end and found everyone in neat rows outside what must be the chapel entrance. The girls were all up against the far wall, while the adults stood ready to walk through the door. "Groomsmen inside," Rosie said, as soon as she caught sight of them.

"Your first job is to seat people and look nice," she added, standing in the doorway as they filed past. "Except for you, Hunter; you'll be out back with Blake. Everyone else will be seating guests as they arrive, except for those here tonight."

She walked them through the seating arrangements, stopping to consult with Tori whenever there was a question. Then she made them all try it, down to a mock-laying of the runner and several false starts with their "flower princess". Once everyone was where they were supposed to be, Tori's mom walked her slowly down the aisle.

"Beautiful," Rosie praised, when they came to a halt at the front of the chapel. "Now, Tori doesn't want to be presented, so as soon as you lift her veil you may be seated and I'll welcome everyone to the ceremony."

Erin caught his eye just as Tori's mom stepped away, and he couldn't resist. He lifted his left hand slightly in a casual wave. Erin's polite smile turned into a full-fledged grin, and she glanced back to whisper to the bridesmaid behind her. Hunter folded his hands again and looked innocently toward Blake and Tori. Kapri would make a scene no matter what, and he'd just as soon not have to explain.

Rosie was already ticking through the facets of the ceremony itself, and he heard Shane shift behind him. Hunter turned just enough to see Shane slipping the orange marker to Dustin. They couldn't have done that while they were walking in? The two of them had no subtlety.

Jeike's daughter, seated between her grandparents, began to swing her legs against the basket under her chair. Hunter smiled over at her, sympathizing. For anyone but his brother, he would have found an excuse not to be here. At least the kid got to sit down.

"Then I'll ask for the rings," Rosie was saying, and he turned as though he had been paying attention the whole time. "If you'll set the bride's ring on the book," she told him, "I'll ask the maid of honor for the groom's ring, and we'll proceed with the vows."

Obediently, he pretended to set a ring on the book she offered him, wondering what book it was. It didn't look like a bible. Not that he had expected one, since Blake and Tori had agreed on a non-denominational service. Their choice of chapel was unusual in and of itself, but he supposed "Waysmeet" would be easier to remember on their anniversary than "St. Whatever's."

He had to hand it to Rosie; the rehearsal took only as much time as the introductions and the tour combined. Whether that said more about the rehearsal itself or the introductions, it was hard to tell, but she even encouraged them to kiss at the end of the mock ceremony and that made Tori and Blake happy. They walked back down the aisle together, and Hunter offered his arm to Erin.

"Slowly," Rosie called after them as they headed toward the back of the chapel. "People are taking pictures. Pretend you're modeling!"

"You could wave," Erin whispered, and he grinned.

"At an empty room?" He lifted his free hand and displayed the smiley face for all of the imaginary people to see. "Talk to the hand," he told the assembled chairs, and Erin giggled.

He had known Erin before she had been Tori's roommate, and luckily they had compatible senses of humor. Tori and Blake had deliberately arranged it so that Shane and Dustin would be partnered with Kapri and Marah, which meant that Jeike was the only real unknown. He hoped she had an affinity for either the smart or the sarcastic, since Cam was both and would be bored out of his mind if his partner didn't get his jokes.

"The bridesmaids will wait outside the chapel doors," Rosie said, projecting her voice from the front of the room. "The groomsmen will come back inside to escort the women of the family out. Go," she added, when they all looked at each other.

"No microphone for her," Erin murmured under her breath, and Hunter smirked. He let go of her arm and turned to head down the side of the room.

"Follow the best man," Rosie called. "No one walks on the runner alone except for the bridesmaids at the beginning of the ceremony. Go around the edges... that's right. This time Hunter will escort the mother of the bride, and the rest of you can argue amongst yourselves."

"Evening, Mrs. Hanson," Hunter said politely, offering Lila Hanson his arm.

"Call me Mom," she invited, smiling up at him as they turned toward the aisle. "Blake does."

"Give me some time to get used to it," he told her. Privately, he couldn't imagine calling anyone "Mom" again, but he wasn't going to tell her that. He led her out through the doors at the back of the chapel, were the girls were already chatting excitedly to each other. Blake and Tori were gone, presumably practicing their "fake exit". Rosie was very thorough.

Shane and Dustin emerged with the grandmothers, and Hunter couldn't help grinning as Cam emerged from the chapel with Jeike's three-or-four year old daughter. She ran over to her mom as soon as Jeike held out her hand, and Cam offered, "I'll help you watch her while we take pictures, if you want."

"Thanks," Jeike answered, with a grateful smile. "My boyfriend should be here tomorrow, but I appreciate the offer."

Then Blake and Tori were coming through the doors again, with Rosie right behind them. "That was wonderful," she told them all, beaming at each of them in turn. "You're all wonderful performers, I can tell. Now, I'll be here tomorrow at two--will that be early enough?"

Blake made his way to Hunter while Tori engaged Rosie. "It's gonna take us a while to finish here," he said under his breath. "D'you mind checking on the neighbors, see how they're doing with the grill?'

"Sure," Hunter agreed, grateful for the excuse to get out of the overly female socializing. "I'll give 'em a hand. You inviting Rosie?" he added, jerking his head back toward the chapel.

"We already did," Blake said with a grin. "She's great, isn't she? She's going to try to come, but she has to wait for someone to come in and hang out in the building while she's gone. If they keep talking, we could be here until then."

"Got it." He was even more glad to get out if there wasn't a set departure time. "Let me just see if Cam wants to wait and catch a ride over with someone else."

Cam must have heard his name, because he looked up and started making his way toward them. "What's up?" he asked quietly, glancing back at Jeike's daughter as she stomped her sandals against the ground impatiently.

"I'm gonna head over to the apartment," Hunter told him. "See if the neighbors need any help with the grill. You wanna come, or get a ride over later?"

Cam shrugged. "I'm ready," he offered. "I'd just as soon go now."

"We'll catch up," Blake said, clapping Hunter's shoulder. "Don't let them burn all the chicken, okay?"

"We got it, bro. No worries."

Their departure went mostly unnoticed by the group gathered in front of the chapel, and Hunter glanced over at Cam when the silence stretched. "You okay?"

"Sure," Cam said. He was staring out the window as they turned across the outskirts of campus, following streets that were mostly deserted now with only one summer term still in session. It didn't take a genius to know what he was thinking.

"You want that I should drop you off at the library on the way?" Hunter teased.

Cam actually chuckled at that, and he looked a little more relaxed as he leaned back in his seat. "That would be my dream wedding," he admitted. "One where you were never bored."

"Where you were never bored," Hunter corrected. "The other guests would probably riot."

"Leaving me alone with the books," Cam pointed out. "Like I said. A dream wedding."

"Is this your wedding that you're picturing, or someone else's?" Hunter wanted to know.

"Do you see me getting married in the near future?" Cam countered. "Someone else's, obviously. Tori and Blake are great," he added quickly, "but I'm just not cut out for this sort of formal socializing."

"You and me both," Hunter agreed. "Anywhere you can't go in racing gear..."

"Isn't worth going," Cam finished. "Yeah, I know. It's not even the dressing up that I object to, though, it's the constant politeness. Who knows what anyone's really thinking?"

Hunter smirked. "Who's constantly polite?"

"Everyone but you," Cam replied promptly.

"What's Jeike like?" Hunter wanted to know. "She into your kind of sarcasm?"

"I can be un-sarcastic," Cam informed him with dignity. "And she's nice, thank you very much."

"Hey," Hunter protested, slowing as they turned onto Tori and Blake's road. "I was just asking."

Tori and Blake occupied one side of a two-story house in the middle of a street crawling with AGU students. They had three housemates, or "neighbors" as Blake referred to them, and all were students that one or the other of them had known prior to moving in at the beginning of the summer. Their good relations made a backyard dinner not only possible but practical when the neighbors had offered to help.

He parked on the street, figuring they had less of a chance of getting blocked in that way, and they headed around behind the building without bothering to go up to the door. They could hear noise before they even got down the driveway, and he recognized one of the housemates' distinctive drawl as a door slammed. "N'all folks like their corn drenched, y'know!"

"Drenched in what?" Hunter muttered to Cam, and had the satisfaction of seeing his mouth quirk at the corner.

"Well, not all folks are cooking, are they!" someone shouted back. "You mind your own business, Anna Mae!"

"Hey, Chantal," Hunter said with a grin. The blonde-haired girl at the grill looked up as they made their way between the cars parked off to the side of the house, and her face positively lit up when she caught sight of them.

"My people!" she cried, dropping the tongs and running toward them. "Let's have some queer solidarity, here! How much butter do you put on corn?"

Hunter exchanged glances with Cam. "A lot?" he guessed.

"A lot!" she crowed. "Thank you!" She clasped his hand and pulled him into a one-armed hug, kissing the air beside each cheek. He tolerated the gesture with fond amusement, knowing she cut him some slack in the gay department because he was what she termed "a straight queer".

"Cam!" she exclaimed, as soon as she'd let him go. "Can you or can you not serve asparagus with corn and chicken?"

"You can," Cam said gravely, and Hunter rolled his eyes. She didn't have to make excuses for Cam, who obligingly fit into whatever stereotype she picked for him. And he wasn't even gay.

Chantal squealed in delight. Cam, who was one of the least physical people Hunter knew, not only returned her embrace but also copied her kissing mannerism. This from the guy who had just been complaining about false politeness?

"Ain't that sweet," Anna Mae's voice drawled from the porch. "S'like a rainbow bar out here. You cookin' that corn or what?"

"When the chicken's ready you can hassle me about the corn," Chantal shot back. Then she turned a sweet smile on Cam and inquired, "Have you come to help me grill?"

"Hey," Hunter interrupted. "What am I for?"

"To look pretty?" She laughed at his expression, putting a hand on his arm and steering him toward the porch. "You can barely fry an egg! Help Anna Mae with the tables, will you?"

"So much for queer solidarity," he grumbled good-naturedly.

"Ah heard that!" Anna Mae called from inside. "Trus' me, Hunter, y'all are way more 'mah people' then y'are Chana's."

Chantal nodded in mock disappointment. "Sad, but true," she agreed. "Cam's more gay than you are. But you fit right in with the butch crowd!"

Hunter rolled his eyes. "As long as I have a place," he said, allowing himself to be pushed inside. The lesbians next door, he thought, glancing around at the perfectly normal kitchen. Chantal and Anna Mae were out with a capital "O", and one almost expected to see rainbows painted across the ceiling.

"Here," Anna Mae said, thrusting a stack of paper plates, napkins, and plastic silverware into his arms. "The napkins go underneath the plates, y'hear? Ah'll be right behind ya with cups an' place holders t'make sure they don' blow away."

"You're using real drink glasses?" Hunter asked, watching her sweep an array of mismatched tumblers and juice glasses to one side of the counter. They must have combined every dish set in the house to come up with enough.

"Y'all can't drink alcohol out of paper cups," Anna Mae informed him. "This ain't the southland, y'know."

"Right," Hunter said dryly. "What was I thinking?"

"Get along now." She shooed him out the door, plastic cups and a bag of marbles in one hand as she followed him. "See here, on the deck? Start here an' see how far ya get. We're goin' t'put plates out on the picnic table an' the foldin' table, too. With a li'l luck, there'll be room f'r all twenty."

He spilled the silverware onto the middle of the table on the porch, then started setting out napkins with paper plates on top of them. Anna Mae dropped flat-sided marbles into plastic cups as he went, placing them on top of the plates to hold everything down. "The bes' thing," she confided as they went, "i'sat if someone forgets and don' take the place holders out, they can drink up anyway an' jus' leave 'em in there."

They managed to fit eight places on the porch table, and six more on each of the tables in the yard. Cam and Chantal were bickering amiably by the grill, arguing over the insulating properties of various metals as far as Hunter could tell, but Chantal broke off as soon as she saw them finish. "Anna Mae, whenever you can stir y'self to bring out the chicken we'll start cookin'!"

"Ya don' mock my accent, chere," Anna Mae shouted back. "Watch y'self or y'all ain't gettin' any utensils with y'supper!"

"All talk and no action!" Chantal retorted sweetly. "Bring some dishes for the corn, too!"

Anna Mae stomped back into the house, muttering to herself the whole way. Hunter glanced around, belatedly realizing that they were missing someone. "Hey, Chantal, where's Jerico?"

"Jeri chickened out," Chantal said blithely. "He's road tripping with some guy from his Eastern Philosophy class. I doubt he'll be back before the semester starts."

"This good 'nuff for ya?" Anna Mae called from the porch. She was holding a large casserole in each hand, balanced at shoulder height as she struck a pose at the top of the steps.

"You'll do!" Chantal answered. Then she added, "Oh, you mean the dishes? Those are fine. Did you turn the stove on?"

"Ah turned the oven on years back." Anna Mae made her way down the steps and over to the grill, handing off one casserole to Cam and setting the other down on the card table they'd set up for food. Cam put the other dish down immediately and went back to spearing asparagus, or whatever Chantal had him doing. "Y'all want something t'drink?"

"If you want anything to eat," Chantal threatened, "you'll get the chicken!"

"Jus' tryin' to be friendly," Anna Mae grumbled. "Keep y'skirt on."

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway prompted Chantal to lean back, peering around the corner of the house from where she was. "Tori's van," she announced. "It looks like we're going to need that chicken sometime tonight, Anna Mae."

Marah and Kapri appeared first, greeting Chantal and Anna Mae with the enthusiasm of old friends, and Erin followed a little more sedately. Hunter caught her eye through the crowd and smiled in welcome. Jeike was nowhere to be seen, nor did Tori come around the corner with them. She must be coming with Blake.

Anna Mae finally allowed herself to be prodded back into the house for chicken, taking the corn with her to keep it warm in the oven. She emerged with the chicken and an empty platter just as the grandparents arrived. Shane and Dustin pulled up minutes later with Tori, Blake, and Rosie right behind them, and the yard degenerated into amicable chaos.

Hunter recognized a repeat of their earlier introductions--only this time with more people and greater detail. Chantal held her own at the grill, laying chicken and talking over her shoulder at the same time, but Anna Mae looked a little outnumbered. Hunter strolled over, standing at her shoulder and engaging anyone who wasn't actively questioning her in small talk. Strength in numbers.

Anna Mae barely acknowledged his presence, but he caught Chantal's appreciative look out of the corner of his eye. Unless he was mistaken, she was the outgoing one, while Anna Mae would be just as happy inside with the game on and a beer in hand. It seemed she was "his people" after all.

Speaking of which, Cam was still hiding behind the grill. Hunter smiled, exchanging an offhanded remark with Erin as he kept an eye on Cam. The asparagus had all been prepared, or speared, or whatever they were doing with it, and Chantal stepped back to let Cam lay it on the top rack of the grill. Quite a compliment, Hunter supposed, if she was really as tyrannical about cooking as she pretended.

"Can Ah get anyone a drink?" Anna Mae inquired solicitously, cutting off another question about her schooling with a speed that Hunter couldn't help but admire.

"Let me help," he offered. "What d'you have inside?"

Anna Mae listed off drink choices, and out of the corner of his eye Hunter saw Chantal shooing Cam away from the grill at last. "It's your party too," she was telling him. "This is our wedding present to Tori and Blake, so enjoy it."

Cam didn't look overly thrilled at the prospect, but he gave in graciously. He caught Hunter's eye as he and Anna Mae headed for the porch, and Hunter jerked his head toward the house. Cam didn't acknowledge the gesture in any way, but Hunter wasn't surprised to see him slipping in through the porch doors a few minutes later.

"So much for enjoying the party," Hunter teased, and Cam just gave him a look.

"Somethin' t'drink?" Anna Mae offered, sliding a beer across the counter to Hunter. "Prove y'manliness an' open that, would ya? Bottle opener's in the sink."

Cam just sighed, as though he already knew the answer to his question. "Do you have anything that isn't alcoholic?"

"You can have some of Kapri's orange juice," Hunter said, before Anna Mae could answer. Cam raised an eyebrow, and he added, "Hey, I'm not asking questions. Can you imagine her any less inhibited?"

"There's fizzy water an' coke, too," Anna Mae offered.

"Orange juice," Cam said, giving Hunter an uninterpretable look. "Thanks."

Hunter poured him a glass of orange juice, and Cam accepted it without a word. "You want that I should take these out?" Hunter asked Anna Mae.

"If y'all get Shane and Kapri, Ah'll take the Hansons' drinks," Anna Mae said over her shoulder. "Cam, make y'self useful an' pour some wine for Dustin and Marah. Ah'll be back in a jiff."

"A jiff?" Hunter repeated, bracing the door with his elbow as she stepped out onto the porch. "Who says that?"

"Ah do," she retorted. "Ya got a problem with it, racer boy?"

"Ooh, bringing out the big guns," he teased. "Now I'm racer boy!"

"Ah'll call you gay racer boy if y'all like it more," Anna Mae warned.

Hunter handed over Shane's beer and Kapri's orange juice and was ready with a retort by the time Anna Mae met him back at the porch. "Should I call you nature dyke, then?"

"Y'all call me what y'like," Anna Mae replied, unperturbed. "But tha's Dr. Nature Dyke t'ya, gay racer boy."

Oh yeah. Definitely "his people."

Cam had just set down one glass to open the door when they did it for him, and Hunter grabbed the glass and passed it to him as he stepped through. "Thanks," Cam said, nodding toward the counter. "Opened a beer for you."

Hunter lifted his chin in acknowledgement, catching Anna Mae's smile as he turned away from the door. "What?"

She just shook her head. "Y'all are mighty chivalrous," she remarked.

He shrugged, snagging the beer off the counter. "Cam's like that."

"Ah'm not talkin' 'bout Cam," Anna Mae said mildly.

Hunter snorted. "Me?" That was a new one. "No one's ever called me 'chivalrous' before."

"Suits ya," Anna Mae offered. She was pouring a glass of "fizzy water" for Rosie, and it belatedly occurred to him that they should have served Blake and Tori first. The party was for them, after all.

Chivalrous? Nah. He clearly didn't have the knack.

"So, y'all together then?" Anna Mae asked.

"Sorry?" Not really listening, Hunter was heading for the door when her next words stopped him in his tracks.

"Y'an' Cam," she clarified. "Ya'll together?"

He turned and stared at her. "You been talking to Blake?"

"Fam'ly's the las' t'know," she answered, and it took him a moment to realize she'd misunderstood.

"We're not together," he said, exasperated. "Blake was trying to set us up too, and I don't get it. Can't people just be friends anymore?"

Anna Mae shot a backwards glance at him. "Y'be mad if I said y'all are kinda defensive about it?" she inquired.

"You be mad if I tell you to mind your own business?" Hunter countered.

She shrugged but didn't answer.

"Sorry." The apology was reluctant, forced out only when he realized that, yes, she would be mad. "Guess I kinda... overreacted."

"Nah." She smiled over her shoulder at him. "Ah shouldnta said anything."

The door opened again, and Cam looked around for Anna Mae before he'd even closed it behind him. "Chantal wants to know where her Zima is," he told her, a hint of apology in his tone.

Anna Mae sighed loudly, but her reluctance was half-hearted and obviously for show. "Ah'll never get her t'drink somethin' respectable," she murmured, opening the refrigerator again.

"Girly drink," Hunter agreed, sliding the bottle opener toward her.

She smirked, but she picked up the bottle opener and pointed it at him. "Now, don' let me catch ya sayin' that in public," she warned. "N'one can diss mah girl's drink but me, y'hear?"

He held up his hands in surrender. "I'll sneer quietly."

She shook her head, Zima in hand as she headed for the door. "Ah hear ya."

Catching Cam's eye, Hunter began, "Did you ask Tori and Blake--"

"Wine and a soda," Cam answered, not even waiting for him to finish. "I've got it. Who are these for?" he asked, indicating the two glasses still sitting on the counter.

"Rosie and..." Hunter thought about it, ticking off people in his mind. "Grandma, I guess. Where'd Jeike go, anyway?"

"Probably taking her daughter home," Cam said reasonably. "I think Tori's mom is driving."

"Oh." Hunter frowned at Cam's back for a moment, wondering about Anna Mae's assumption. Did they act like they were together? Was it only because she knew they weren't straight? And where had his brother, of all people, come up with the same idea?

"Looking to socialize?" Cam asked over his shoulder.

Hunter's frown deepened. "Huh?"

"With Jeike," Cam prompted. "You want to check out her sense of humor?"

"Anna Mae thought we were together," Hunter blurted out. As soon as he said it, he wished he'd waited until Cam had turned around. He wouldn't mind seeing his expression.

From the back, though, Cam didn't so much as pause. "It's a wedding. We came together. I guess it's not so surprising that she might think that."

"It doesn't bother you?" Hunter demanded.

Cam shrugged. "Why should it?"

That stumped him for a moment. Of course Cam wouldn't care what other people thought. This was the guy whose idea of Friday night fun was an evening in the zord bay and an e-book on temporal theory. But still...

"Guess I didn't think you'd want to be associated with me like that," he said at last.

Cam put the wine back and turned around, amusement obvious in his tone if not his expression. "People have thought that for years, Hunter. I go to your races. You come to my classes. We go clubbing, do coffeehouses, and hang out whenever you're in town."

Hunter shifted uncomfortably, and Cam added, "Even if we weren't out, they'd still wonder. That's just the way people are."

"It's not the way we are," Hunter muttered. "Guys are always bringing people to the track. It's no big deal."

Cam shrugged again. "So start dating again," he suggested. "That's all it takes."

"Why do I have to date?" Hunter demanded. "You date. You haven't been out with anyone for months. The singles scene is starting to forget what you look like."

Cam didn't smile. "I don't feel like it," he replied. "It's you or neither of us, because I don't care what people think.

Hunter raised an eyebrow, feeling oddly defensive. "You saying that I do?"

"You're the one who brought it up," Cam pointed out.

"Just surprised me, that's all." Hunter frowned. "Not saying I think there's anything wrong with it."

Anna Mae tromped back into the kitchen, not bothering to close the door behind her. "We got Tori an' Blake standin' around wi'out drinks," she remarked, spotting the glasses Cam held up. "Good, y'got 'em. If y'take those out, Ah'll start servin' the corn. Hunter, ya wanna set out the taters an' rice?

"Warn folks when y'do," she added, heading for the stove. "The taters got chives in 'em an' there s'almonds in the rice. We got any allergic folk, they shoul' know. Chana's jus' gotta add stuff when she cooks."

Anna Mae directed them with as much enthusiasm as Chantal had earlier, and Hunter wondered idly why she let Chantal boss her around. They were clearly two of a kind, no matter their backgrounds or interests. He placed casseroles according to her direction, and while he was setting food out he saw her conscripting Cam to help serve corn on the cob.

The food drew people inexorably toward the tables. Hunter found himself beside Shane just as Chantal announced that the chicken would be ready by the time they finished the corn. They grinned at each other, and for a moment it was just like old times. "That sounded like a challenge to me," Hunter remarked.

"Yeah it did," Shane agreed. "Let's put this grill to the test!"

It was hard to eat corn on the cob fast, and impossible to do it gracefully even under normal circumstances. But as soon as Shane finished Hunter dropped his too, pausing just long enough to grab a napkin and maneuver around Dustin. Kapri pretended not to get out of Shane's way, so they were even when it came to pushing each other down the steps.

"Stop!" Chantal pointed her tongs at them as they jostled their way to the grill. "Turn around. Walk back to the table and get your plates. You can eat corn with your bare hands, but I want to see you using utensils on this chicken."

"But Chana," Anna Mae drawled. She was hanging off the porch railing, watching the scene with interest. "Ah thought y'cut up the chicken jus' so it'd be finger food."

Chantal turned the tongs on her girlfriend. "Silence," she said sternly. She gave Hunter and Shane another mock glare. "Walk," she reminded them.

"Yes ma'am," Shane said smartly, and Hunter smothered a laugh. They smirked their way back to the porch. It had been a while since Shane had goofed off with him, and he pretended not to see the way the adults were deliberately ignoring their ruckus.

They ignored a lot more through the course of the evening. Even Hunter had to admit that their group was too rowdy to be anywhere but the backyard. Between Dustin's antics and Blake showing off, he and Shane had plenty of competition. And Tori didn't help, egging them on while Kapri and Marah laughed at everyone. Erin joined them before long, making nine on the porch and leaving the actual lawn to the quieter generation.

He didn't see Jeike and Mrs. Hanson return, which probably said something about how loud they were being, but they had food by the time he noticed them. He looked around for Anna Mae, saw her at the grill with Chantal, and concluded that they were amusing themselves in the chaos. They certainly didn't look unhappy over there.

When the food was gone--at least from the table on the porch--Blake offered to refill their drinks and Tori persuaded Cam to bring out his guitar. Marah started to pick up some of the plates, but she was stopped by a shout from the direction of the grill. "Tha's our job, honey," Anna Mae called. "Y'all jus' leave ev'rythin' right where t'is."

Dustin pulled Marah down beside him, muttering something that made her giggle. Hunter glanced over at Shane, who was telling Erin about the time Tori had supposedly been in a photo shoot for "GirlSport." He was having to edit the story a little, much to the amusement of the others, and he was saved only by Cam's return.

Hunter kicked a chair away from the table, and Cam pushed it up against the house so he could face the yard. Blake came out through the porch door, passing another beer to Hunter and one to Shane. He refilled Marah's glass before trotting down the steps to offer more wine to the others, and Hunter saw Chantal pass him on her way into the house.

"Hunter," Cam said, catching his attention as he pushed a second chair across the porch. He gestured toward the chair expectantly.

Surprised, Hunter lifted his beer and shook his head. "No way," he said, leaning back against the railing for emphasis. "This is your show."

"Nah, come on, Hunter!" Of course Blake would be listening, even halfway across the yard. "Let's hear it!"

Tori echoed him immediately, which unfortunately meant that the rest of the girls agreed in the name of solidarity. Dustin, too, cheered him on, though Shane looked like he didn't have a clue what was going on. He and Shane didn't talk much anymore.

"Come on," Cam said with a grin. He'd known they wouldn't let up once he suggested it. "Just do some Charlie Daniels and we'll leave you alone."

"Cam," Hunter said with a sigh. This was definitely not fair. They did coffeehouses together sometimes, but Blake and Tori were the only ones here that had seen them. He hadn't expected Cam to even mention it.

"Hun-ter," Marah and Kapri chorused. He glared at them half-heartedly, and they just dissolved into giggles. He wasn't whining. He was just surprised.

"I'm not doing Charlie Daniels," he said at last, shooting Cam a warning look.

Cam just smiled. "Jeffrey Steele?"

"Fine," Hunter grumbled. He made his way over to the chairs while Cam checked the strings on his acoustic guitar. He sat down on the deck, putting his back to the chair like they did when they practiced. This wasn't a performance, and he wasn't going to make it one.

Chantal came out of the house with a bottle in each hand, and again she and Blake passed each other on the steps. "Hey, thanks for the food," he said, catching her eye as he turned around. "You're a fantastic cook, Chantal."

That provoked an overwhelming round of agreement and toasts, and not just from those gathered on the porch. Under cover of the noise, Hunter poked Cam's knee and demanded, "A little warning next time, all right?"

"You could have said no," Cam told him. "It was just a suggestion."

"Sure it was," Hunter muttered. "If I wanted to be the bad guy and spoil everyone's fun. You gonna help me out with 'The Crowd Goes Wild,' or what?"

"If you want," Cam agreed. "Are we doing both verses?"

He thought about it for half a second. "Sure. Kind of a Dustin and Shane thing, y'know? They'll like it."

Cam nodded, and he started out with an idle intro that quieted everyone down faster than Hunter had expected. Hunter listened too, the guitar next to his ear as it settled into an E-D-A progression. He looked up, caught Cam's eye when the other glanced over at him, and nodded once.

The guitar went from A to E and Hunter began, "He was an underdog, a no-threat. A NASCAR junkie, a rookie, a wannabe: still wet behind the ears, a red-line revver just jamming his gears."

There was absolute silence but for the guitar and his words. He focused on the nearest leg of the table, more nervous than he was trying to show about reciting in front of people he knew. "There are those that are, and those that ain't... the quickest get stickers; he was nothing but paint."

He looked up then, deliberately catching Dustin's eye as he added, "Chartreuse paint." That got a chuckle, and he saw Dustin grin.

"Big race," Hunter continued, transferring his attention back to the table. "We cut to the last ten laps, and here comes Junior, sneaking up from the back of the pack... Fire in his eyes, he's waving out the window as he passes 'em by.

"The tension mounts, now he's number two: all out of rubber, and running on fumes. It's door to door, out of turn four... he sees those checkers and he hears that roar--"

"And the crowd goes wild," Cam echoed quietly, his timing perfect as he added the only sung part of the story: "You're shining like a superstar--"

"And the crowd goes wild," Hunter repeated. He heard the chords change, and he let Cam fool around for a minute or so before settling back into the spoken progression.

If not for the fact that he had long ago changed the second verse from "blue-" to "brown-eyed singer," he would have done it now. Shane didn't react, but Hunter caught Kapri's smile. They finished with another chorus, not bothering to add the play-by-play that Hunter had written for the state finals at Sacramento. Cam, as usual, dragged out the instrumental breaks between verses and then ended seconds after the last words. He knew when Hunter didn't mind waiting and when he did.

The others were applauding. He snuck a glance out at the yard, and yes, everyone really was clapping. "The Crowd Goes Wild" wasn't one they usually started with; it took a certain amount of energy and he certainly hadn't seen it coming. But it wasn't so bad to see most of his family and all his old friends in the audience after all. He let Cam prod him into another song with only a token grumble when he suggested "The Devil Went Down To Georgia."

Tori supported this choice loudly, and he saw Blake grinning. They had seen him and Cam do this one, one night a couple of years back. That was the first time they tried having Cam do Johnny's lines, and Blake had teased Hunter ever since about being the devil. They were considerably better at it now.

This time, Hunter almost did stand up. Almost. He was used to looking at Cam, especially with a rhythm this fast and with what was essentially dialogue between the song's main players. But he stayed where he was, not quite ready to draw that much attention to them--

Until Cam kicked the leg of his chair, giving him a pointed look when Hunter glanced up at him. "I'm not talking to the devil on the ground," he informed Hunter. Blake hooted and Hunter sighed, but when Cam stood up he followed suit.

"Hey Erin," Cam said, eyes down as he adjusted his grip on his guitar.

"Yeah," she answered, from her place between Tori and Kapri. She looked just as curious as the others, though maybe not quite as eager as Blake. Some brothers were too smug for their own good... why he found this so amusing, Hunter didn't know.

"Pay attention," Cam was saying, lifting his head at last. "This is how Hunter and I met."

The others must not have known the song, because Tori was the only one who snickered. For her benefit, and Blake's, Hunter added, "Yeah, except Cam wasn't Johnny."

Cam just smiled, letting that one roll off. "Ready?"

With a nod, he waited for Cam to go through a single series of chords--the same one he used in place of the fiddle solo, and, Hunter suspected, an improvised version of the actual guitar solo later on. In this one they had to work off of each other more, and he waited for the split-second pause that signaled Cam was about to start over.

"The devil went down to Georgia," he said, throwing himself into the familiar words. "He was looking for a soul to steal. He was in a bind 'cause he was way behind and he was willing to make a deal." He smirked at Cam without thinking about it. "He came across a young man sawing on a fiddle and playing it hot, and the devil jumped up on a hickory stump and said 'boy let me tell you what...'"

He reminded himself not to get in Cam's face. That was just what they needed today, between Blake and then Anna Mae, to do this song the same way they'd been performing it recently. It was more entertaining and a lot more fun, but no. Not what they needed.

"I bet you didn't know it," he told Cam, holding his ground, "but I'm a fiddle player too, and if you'd care to take a dare I'll make a bet with you."

This time it was Cam who grinned, lowering his head to hide his expression, and Hunter knew what he was thinking. He threw a look in Tori's direction. "If you hurt him, I will hunt you down."

"You play a pretty good fiddle, son, but give the devil his due... I bet a fiddle of gold against your soul 'cause I think I'm better than you. The boy said--"

"My name's Johnny," Cam interjected, still not quite hiding his grin, "and it may be a sin, but I'll take your bet and you're gonna regret, 'cause I'm the best that's ever been!"

They both covered the background vocals, and if they had never gotten the harmony quite right, enthusiasm counted for something. Cam's guitar was surprisingly forgiving. Cam took his cue from Hunter and kept his distance, Johnny beat the devil, and Hunter dropped to one knee, much to the amusement of everyone watching.

"The devil bowed his head because he knew that he'd been beat," he told the deck. Then, lifting his head, he caught Cam's eye and added, "He laid that golden fiddle on the ground at Johnny's feet."

"Devil, just come on back if you ever want to try again," Cam responded, not taking his eyes off of Hunter. A smile tugged at his lips again, and he finished triumphantly, "Cause I told you once, you son of a gun, I'm the best that's ever been!"

Cam put his hand over the strings and they froze, holding their positions until Dustin hollered at them and the others burst into applause like they were startled it was over. Cam held out his hand and helped Hunter up, and Hunter couldn't help grinning.

"You think that was good," he told the others, "you should see how we do it in front of an audience."

Cam cleared his throat, giving Hunter a pointed glance.

"Ooh ooh!" Kapri exclaimed, laughing when Marah clapped again. "Story!"

"That was the story," Cam said firmly. "You want to do one more?" he asked Hunter.

"Hey, where do we see you guys?" Dustin called. "What is this, your secret hobby? You sound, like professional or something!"

Only Dustin would call them professional. "We just do it to stay in practice," Hunter answered, exchanging glances with Cam. "Actually, it was Cam's idea."

Cam shrugged in Blake's general direction. "I don't spin," he remarked. "And you've got a good voice."

Hunter paused, a little surprised. Cam hadn't said that since the first time he'd convinced Hunter to try dramatic speaking instead of rapping. He certainly hadn't expected to hear it tonight... but it was kind of nice.

"What's this about an audience?" Shane put in. "I thought we all decided to stay away from talent shows!"

"They do coffeehouses," Tori informed him. "In Blue Bay, and once they did a dorm night here at AGU. You didn't do 'The Crowd Goes Wild'!" she added accusingly.

Hunter just shrugged, but he saw Cam frown over at him. "What did we do?" he wanted to know. "'The Devil Went Down To Georgia'... and what?"

"Uneasy Rider," Blake volunteered. "The college version!"

"The college version!" Marah exclaimed.

"Aw, I want to hear it!" Kapri dropped her shoulders and leaned forward, nudging Erin.

"Me too!" Erin agreed immediately.

Cam and Hunter looked at each other again. "That's probably not a good idea," Hunter said at last, deliberately not looking over at the other two tables. "Maybe we'll, uh... do it for you later."

He heard Blake snicker, and he glared at his brother. "Way to help us out, bro."

"It's not really suited to this occasion," Cam said smoothly. "Let's do..." Here his inspiration failed him, and he hesitated. "I don't know. Something else."

"Two Out Of Three," Hunter suggested, taking a cue from Cam's excuse. "For Tori and Blake?" As soon as he said it, he wished he could take it back, and then he was annoyed with himself for thinking it.

Damn it, why did Anna Mae have to go and ask if they were together? Blake he could have ignored, because Blake was getting married and was probably just kidding anyway. But Anna Mae? Now he was second-guessing himself, wondering how his actions were going to come across in light of an assumption he hadn't expected to run into here.

"Two Out Of Three" was romantic; there was no getting around it. Whether they changed it for Tori and Blake or not, it was going to be obvious that they had done it before. And sure, they hammed it up. Play to the crowd. But that's all it was: a show.

They would know that, Hunter reminded himself. And if they didn't... who cared? Cam didn't. That was really what worried him, that Cam would get annoyed with the attention and... do something drastic. What, exactly, Hunter wasn't sure.

Cam had taken a seat, and Hunter joined him gratefully. If he had agreed, Hunter had missed it, but he was already strumming the opening chords and at least they were going to be serious about this one. Blake looked a little nervous. Hunter got some small amount of satisfaction out of that. Blake didn't know whether they were kidding or not, and it served him right.

Hunter leaned back against his chair, watching Cam's fingers on the strings until Cam turned his head. Hunter didn't have to nod. Cam switched back to D, and Hunter took a deep breath.

"I've been thinking back over my life," he said, quietly but strong enough to carry to everyone on the porch. He wouldn't vouch for the rest of the yard being able to hear it, but then, that wasn't really a bad thing. "Some of the questions I've had...

"I've thought about living," he said, listening to the chords shift back and forth. "I've thought about dying, and what makes me happy or sad."

He stopped staring straight ahead, finally, letting his gaze wander around the porch a little. He deliberately didn't look at Cam. "Most of my questions I've kept to myself, like 'why in the world was I born?'" He found Blake with his eyes, and he added, "But the number one question I'd like to ask, I ask only of you."

He paused, and Cam sang softly, "How could you love me?"

"Tori, how could you love me?" Hunter asked, trying to keep a straight face and failing miserably. Cam sang the first line of the chorus again, and Hunter added, "Cause when I had a choice between good and bad, I picked bad, two out of three."

Blake was grinning. Tori giggled, putting a hand over her mouth in apology and leaned over to rest her head against Blake's shoulder. Everyone else was perfectly quiet. It was just the guitar, his words, and Cam's backup vocals. And the cars going by out front, the sound of the wind, and someone shouting across the street.

It was a strange night. The surreal nature of it struck him in the middle of the song. This thing that had once been just between him and Cam now shared with anyone they could convince to listen. This last night before his brother's wedding, when the most important person in Blake's life would officially stop being Hunter. This sudden feeling of being uncertain when he had always known exactly what he was doing and why.

He excused himself as soon as he could after the song ended, which wasn't all that soon considering that everyone suddenly had questions and Cam didn't seem to be feeling talkative. And that was odd in and of itself, since he was usually more social when he had his guitar than at any other time. But Hunter finally got away on the pretext of getting him another drink, bypassed the kitchen, and ducked out the front door.

Everything was normal on this side of the house. He stood on the steps, staring at the street and watching the cars, the occasional pedestrian, and a cat that was napping on the stoop next door. Normal, yes. It was full of normal people doing normal things, going home or going out as the sun went down. But it wasn't his.

He had always wanted something that was his. Maybe it was one of those things a shrink would say came from losing his parents so young. But he had had the Academy to take the place of family, back then. When he lost that, he had made his home at the track. Now it was a different track every week, and the only thing he really recognized anymore--

Well, Cam probably wouldn't appreciate being called "his." But sometimes his friendship was the only thing Hunter was sure of.

He sighed, irritated with himself for being down the night before his brother's wedding. Shouldn't he be happy for Blake? What was he doing obsessing over his own life? And since when did he care about that possessive crap, anyway? He had everything he needed.

The door swung open behind him, and he turned automatically. His mouth quirked at Cam's annoyed expression, fading quickly as he took in Hunter's pensive mien. "You all right?" Cam asked, frowning a little.

Hunter hesitated, then shrugged. "Sure. Just... needed some time." It was the one excuse Cam wouldn't question. He used it himself.

Cam didn't move. "Want some company?" he asked at last.

"Sure." Hunter moved off the bottom step and sat down on the edge of it, wishing he had brought his beer. Or maybe that was the last thing he needed right now; it was hard to tell. He didn't know where this weirdness was coming from.

Cam sat down next to him. Neither of them said a word for what seemed like a long time, but Hunter suddenly found his mind empty. It was as though Cam's presence had flipped a switch. One moment he was going places he really didn't want to go, and the next he was just staring at that cat like it was about to turn into a Disney character.

"What time are we supposed to meet Blake tomorrow?" Cam asked abruptly.

"Eleven." The response was automatic. "We're gonna get lunch, get dressed, and hopefully the flowers will catch up with us at the hotel." That could be interesting, given that their grandmother was supposed to be bringing them over. Grandma wasn't so great with directions. "Then we meet Rosie at the chapel and start waiting."

Cam grunted noncommittally, like that wasn't really what he'd wanted to ask, and Hunter was getting tired of staring at the cat. "Whatcha thinking?" he wanted to know.

Cam glanced sideways at him with a smile. "That's what I was going to ask," he admitted. "You're pretty quiet."

And he had left without a word, not even bothering to get Cam's drink before he disappeared. From a party full of people he had known for years and really ought to care more about catching up with. Yeah, he could see why it looked strange.

"I dunno," he said at last. "I guess... I just think Blake's pretty lucky, that's all."

"Ah." Cam was smiling again. "Wedding envy. It's not all wine and roses, Hunter. I thought you were more of a realist than that."

"Hey," Hunter defended himself. "I'm a realist. I just think he's got it good, is all."

"And you don't?" Cam countered. "I'll admit Blake and Tori are good together. We all know that. But it's not like you're so badly off yourself."

Hunter snorted. "He graduates from college next year, Cam. What am I doing? Still fooling around at the track."

"The AMA state championship is not 'fooling around'," Cam said sharply. "Since when do you measure yourself against Blake, anyway? He's your brother, not your competition."

Hunter's mouth twisted in a smirk. Only Cam could make him feel better by yelling at him. "Spoken like a true only child," he replied wryly.

Cam let that one stand, maybe acknowledging the point, maybe just not deigning to reply.

"I'm not sure I could do it," Hunter said after a minute. "I mean... maybe there's a reason he's Blake, and I'm Hunter."

Cam gave him an odd look, and Hunter didn't blame him. "Other than the fact that that's what your parents named you?"

"I don't think I could make that kind of commitment." Hunter stared over at the cat again. It was black. A black cat on a grey stoop. "You know, to a person. Or even to school. Definitely not to school," he amended.

"You made a commitment to motocross," Cam pointed out.

Hunter shrugged it off. "That's fun."

"Not everyone thinks so," Cam retorted. "And 'fun' doesn't mean 'easy'. You work your butt off for that sport, and there's nothing about it you can't be proud of. You put in the hours, you put in the money, and you've done your time in the hospital. And you have an awful lot to show for it.

"You made a commitment, Hunter. You just made it to something else."

He focused on Cam, smiling before he looked away again. Sometimes he thought Cam liked pep talks because he got to argue someone into the ground with no hard feelings. "You're right," he conceded at last, amused and somewhat reassured. "Thanks."

Cam didn't answer, and Hunter was pretty sure that if he looked quickly enough he'd catch a smirk on his face. He didn't look. The cement walkway in front of the step was pretty interesting, when you came right down to it.

No. It wasn't. He drew in a breath, ready to stand up and get on with it, when Cam shifted at his side. "You stuck with me," Cam said, out of the blue.

Hunter glanced at him in surprise. Cam, too, was studying the cement. His expression was inscrutable, and Hunter frowned warily. "What do you mean?"

"You said you didn't think you could make that kind of commitment to a person," Cam reminded him, not looking up. "And maybe you haven't, yet. But you can. You stuck with me."

It didn't make any more sense the second time around. "What are you talking about?" Hunter repeated. "Of course I stuck with you. You're my friend."

"Blue Bay Harbor isn't exactly the center of the racing circuit," Cam said, lifting his gaze to the street. "Why do you still have an apartment there?"

He wasn't sure he liked where this might go. "Because it's my home," he told Cam. "Why else?"

"It's not where you grew up," Cam replied. "It's not where your family is. It's not where you work, and it's not where your friends are. So what about it is home, exactly?"

Hunter opened his mouth, then closed it again. Blue Bay Harbor was the place he came back to. It was just... It was where he hung out. "It just is," he said defensively. "What makes it your home?"

He knew that was a stupid question as soon as he asked, but that didn't keep Cam from answering. "My family, my friends, my job? I've lived there all my life, Hunter.

"I'm just saying," he continued, forestalling any reply Hunter might have made. "I know I've had some problems. But you've been around since the Rangers, and you've stayed around. It's really... well, it really made a difference. I don't know if I ever told you."

Hunter hesitated. He hadn't known what to say before, and Cam's sudden turnaround didn't help any. Was he implying that Hunter stayed because Cam was there? Or was he reading too much into it?

And if he wasn't? Was Cam wrong?

Sacramento would be easier. San Mateo would be more fun. Hell, even Angel Grove would be better than Blue Bay Harbor. It wasn't like he hadn't thought about it. But Blue Bay Harbor was where he came from, now. Somewhere along the line, it had become more than just a place to sleep at night.

Somewhere along the line. Somewhere between the time Blake had left and the time the Academy had finally agreed to recognize Cam's training. Somewhere between the day he graduated and the day Cam started to teach. Between the first time Cam let him use his laptop, and the day Hunter had turned over control of his bike.

Between the moment he had first yanked Cam across Ninja Ops, and now.

"Maybe I did stay for you," he said quietly. It was a startling realization, even to him. "But, y'know... not because you needed it. Just because--I wanted to. Because you're my friend," he reiterated.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cam lift his head. "Sounds like commitment to me," he remarked, his tone annoyingly smug. "Just because you don't have a boyfriend doesn't mean you don't know how to stand by someone."

Hunter shook his head, amazed at how quickly Cam had turned a revelation into a point for his argument. "Well, you did say I make a better friend than a boyfriend."

Cam's tone softened. "You just haven't found the right boyfriend."

His lips quirked, and he tried desperately to suppress a smile. He didn't succeed. He was such a sucker for Cam being nice to him. "Well, y'know." He tried to bluff his way past it. "It's hard when you're the only good one around."

Cam gave him a sharp look, and Hunter suddenly realized how that sounded. "Me, I mean," he said quickly. "Because before, I said I was the only--not that you wouldn't make a good--"

Cam started to smile, and Hunter managed to stop there. "Damn," he muttered, relaxing just a little. It was the only swear that didn't make Cam grimace, or he would have used something stronger. He was thinking it. He was going to kill Anna Mae. "You know what I mean."

The awkward moment was interrupted by the door, and for a split-second Hunter was relieved. When he glanced over his shoulder, though, he saw Blake smirking down at them and he almost groaned. This night was not going well.

"There you are," Blake said, too innocent. "I think we're gonna pick this up down at Champions. You guys wanna come?" His expression said they might have something better to do, and what Hunter wouldn't give to wipe that smirk off his face.

Cam was already shaking his head. "I'm going to try and get some sleep," he said, putting his hands on his knees. Then he glanced over at Hunter and added, "Unless you want a DD?"

Hunter rolled his eyes. "I didn't even finish the second beer," he reminded Cam.

"It's not the ride over that I'm worried about," Cam said dryly.

"I'm not drinking," Blake offered. "Neither is Anna Mae. She's going to catch up with us after she and Chantal finish the dishes, so we'll have plenty of people to get everyone home safely."

Hunter couldn't help a rueful grin. "Aren't I supposed to be looking out for you tonight, bro?"

Blake shook his head. "Nah, Tori's got it covered," he said with a grin. "We have a bet going about who can drink the least this week. So far she's winning, and I have to give her time to catch up."

Hunter had no idea what to say to that. Finally Cam voiced the thought that was on both their minds. "That's really weird," he told Blake. "But whatever works for you, I guess."

"Sure you won't come?" Blake replied, unperturbed. "Champions has the fastest internet connections in the city."

Cam smiled, but he didn't back down. "Thanks, but I really need the sleep."

"You need the sleep?" Hunter retorted. "You woke me up at five o'clock this morning. It's not like I don't have an alarm clock!"

"You don't have an alarm clock," Cam pointed out.

Hunter rolled his eyes. "You know I use the alarm on my phone. You don't have to call me to make it ring!"

"Your phone has a longer snooze than my laptop's APD," Cam countered. "There's only one way to get you out of bed."

"Just because you get up at the crack of dawn doesn't mean the rest of the world has to!" Hunter exclaimed.

"Hey, guys," Blake interrupted. He shook his head when they looked at him expectantly, adding, "You know way too much about each other. You want me to meet you at the hotel," he asked Hunter, "or are you okay getting there?"

"I can find it." Hunter glanced at Cam inquiringly. "You mind driving?"

"If that's your subtle way of getting me to go," Cam answered, "forget it. I'll drive you over, and then I'm going right back to the hotel."

"Sure," Hunter agreed easily. He didn't say another word as they filed back inside, where almost half the party had taken up residence in the kitchen. Mostly the older people... it looked like everyone who was leaving was still out on the porch.

"Are you sure we can't help you with this?" Cam asked Chantal, surveying the assorted dishes while Anna Mae shook out a couple of trash bags. "We could at least--"

"Cam," Chantal said firmly. "Go away. I already have a kitchen full of women who won't let me wash a single dish myself; the last thing I need is one more person to find chores for. Get the guys out of my hair," she added, nodding toward the porch door, "and you'll have my everlasting gratitude."

"Cause she's really beatin' the guys off with a stick," Anna Mae said dryly. "Y'all oughta go b'fore Ah ditch this get-together an' join ya."

Chantal tossed a dish towel at her. "Silence, woman! Clean!"

Anna Mae only laughed, throwing the dish towel back at her. "Clean y'self! Ah got trash t'take out!"

Hunter dragged Cam toward the back door, knowing that the next thing he tried would be saying good night to everyone in the room. That was definitely not necessary when they would be seeing all of them again tomorrow. Cam shot him an annoyed look, but otherwise he didn't protest the abuse.

It turned out that, although the girls had been invited to Champions as well, most of them were staying at the apartment. Hunter didn't ask what they were doing or where they were all going to sleep, and he got the distinct impression that he wasn't supposed to. So he just watched Cam explain repeatedly that no, he wasn't going, he was just driving one way, and Hunter kept his mouth shut and smiled.

It wasn't until they were back in the truck and on the road that he inquired casually, "Y'know those laptop things they have in cyber bars?"

He could hear Cam raise his eyebrow. "Laptop things?" he repeated, voice practically dripping with disdain.

Hunter shrugged. He did listen when Cam tried to explain the differences between computers; he just didn't remember. "Whatever," he said, brushing it off. "Can you get into game zones with those?"

Cam sounded distinctly suspicious. "Which game zone?"

"I dunno." Never let it be said that he didn't know how to push Cam's buttons. "I was just curious."

Cam didn't answer, but Hunter didn't have to look over at him to know that he was frowning. He traveled enough that he was actually pretty good with computers that weren't his own, but whenever they were together he let Cam have the keyboard. So Cam's opinion of his ability tended to be lower than was strictly accurate.

It didn't bother Hunter; he'd just as soon lean over Cam's shoulder as do it himself, and anything that got him out of extra work was fine with him. Cam had even taken to checking his e-mail for him when they were out. It amused Hunter more than anything, even if it did mean that Cam now had his password.

"You can get anywhere on the internet if you have a connection," Cam said at last. "It's just a matter of who's trying to stop you and how long you have to get around it."

"You can get anywhere on the internet," Hunter corrected. "I'm lucky to figure out that I'm being blocked, let alone what to do about it."

"Where have you been trying to go that's blocked?" Cam's tone was somewhere between puzzled and amused. "And whose computers are you using?"

"Blake told me about some game site," Hunter said vaguely. "I tried to access it from one of the library computers, but I couldn't get it to load. Crashed twice before I gave up," he added, keeping his gaze straight ahead.

"Library computers," Cam muttered. "Could have been almost anything."

There was silence for a moment. "I'll try it again tonight," Hunter remarked at last. "It can't fry every computer. They're not networked or anything, right?"

"Of course they're networked." Cam sounded exasperated, and Hunter hid a smile. "You're sure there's nothing illegal about this site?"

"Blake uses it all the time," Hunter offered.

Cam sighed. "It was probably just the computer you were on. I'll give it a try, if you want."

"Nah," Hunter said idly. "It's not that important. Besides, Blake'll be there tonight; he can tell me if I'm doing something wrong."

He could almost hear Cam bristle. "That's just what the bar needs, the two of you crashing their network with your gaming site," he retorted. "I'm driving. I'll just come in for a few minutes and make sure you don't get yourselves thrown out."

Hunter shrugged, as though it didn't matter to him one way or the other. "If you want," he agreed. Then for good measure he added, "Maybe you'll know what Blake is talking about, 'cause I couldn't really follow the play-by-play."

"I'm guessing that the fact you're still using sports analogies to explain the internet might have something to do with it," Cam said dryly.

Hunter let him have that one, knowing Cam had agreed too easily. Either he didn't really mind coming, or he knew perfectly well what Hunter was doing and retaliation would come in one form or another. He didn't really care, as long as it gave him company at Champions.

A quick survey of the parking lot as they pulled up in front of the hotel proved that they were the first ones back, which didn't surprise Hunter in the slightest. Shane and Dustin had left right before them, but when it came to Dustin's sense of direction, that just meant that they might be here before tomorrow. He waited for Cam to grab his guitar and climb out of the truck before locking the doors, and they headed back inside.

Cam stopped at the front desk, and Hunter shot him a puzzled look. "Towels," Cam said succinctly, and Hunter shook his head. Leave it to Cam to remember the one thing that didn't affect him one way or the other.

The girl with the dreads had been replaced by a woman with blue-streaked brown hair and the kind of purple eyes that only came from colored contacts. She was very friendly, though Hunter suspected she wouldn't have been as nice to him. Cam managed to extract both an apology and a promise to deliver clean towels immediately.

Their room was considerably cooler now, and the first thing Hunter did after dropping his keys on the bureau was to turn the air conditioning down. The combination of summer heat and layers of respectable clothes was not his idea of comfort, but there was no need for both of them to suffer. Cam probably hadn't been comfortable outside either. He might as well not freeze in his own room.

There was a knock on the door as he turned away from the window. Cam opened the door for towels, and Hunter wondered if the girl from the desk had brought them herself. One thing about traveling with Cam: the service was decent and fast.

"Towels are on the rack in the bathroom," Cam called a moment later, as though Hunter hadn't watched him disappear with them.

"Thanks," Hunter answered absently. The second most irritating thing about respectable clothing, after having to wear it in the first place, was storing it. The hotel room had a bar with built-in hangars whose only purpose seemed to be to get in the way of the hangars they had already brought.

He heard Cam rifling through his backpack, then the sound of running water in the bathroom and an electric toothbrush. For himself, Hunter was just glad to get back into regular clothes. All it took was cargo pants and a t-shirt to make him feel more like himself. He jammed his feet back into his sneakers and headed for the door, calling, "I'm gonna see if Dustin and Shane are back."

There was no answer, but he hadn't really expected one. He headed down the hallway, looking for "120" and coming up short when the last room before the window was "118". He backtracked, finding their room just on the other side of the lobby.

"Yeah," Dustin's voice answered when he knocked.

"It's--" The door opened, and he finished, "Hunter. Hey, man."

"Hey!" Dustin yanked the door open the rest of the way and motioned him in. "Dude, that's some sweet stuff you got going on with Cam and the guitar! You guys sound really good!"

"Yeah, thanks," Hunter said, catching sight of Blake lounging against the window. "He keeps trying to teach me to play, but I just don't have the knack. Hey, bro."

"S'up," Blake answered. "Figured you'd stop by before you left or I woulda told you I was here. Gonna give them a ride over," he added, nodding at Dustin.

"Cool." Hunter dropped down onto the nearest bed. "We just waiting on Shane, then?"

"Yeah, he's like, fuzzing his hair or something." Dustin clicked the TV on and squinted at the sticker on top of the screen. "Dude, either I'm reading this wrong, or we get twelve different ESPN channels."

"Shane and Cam," Blake reminded him, ignoring Dustin. "Unless you're riding with us?"

Hunter shook his head, watching Dustin flip through the channels. "Nah, I was just making sure Dustin found the hotel again. Cam'll be ready in a few minutes."

"Ready for what?" Blake wanted to know. "I thought he wasn't coming."

Hunter smirked. "He's coming. You just have to know how to talk to him."

"You and Cam are weirdly close," Dustin commented, not looking up from the screen. "You ever think about, like, hooking up or something?"

Hunter stared at him, then turned his glare on Blake. Blake put his hands up in self-defense, shaking his head. "Not a word, bro," he declared. "I didn't say a thing! It's just obvious to everyone but you."

"We aren't together!" Hunter exploded. "I don't believe this! If either of you say anything to Cam--"

"Hey, whoa, calm down!" Blake interrupted. "It's just a suggestion, all right? What's wrong with you tonight? I'm the one that's supposed to be freaking out!"

"I'm not freaking out!" Hunter snapped. He caught Dustin's bemused expression and moderated his tone a little. "Look, I just think everyone needs to back off and mind their own business. Dustin and Shane do stuff together, and no one thinks anything of it."

"Yeah, but dude, we're not gay," Dustin pointed out.

"Gay people can have friends!" Hunter shouted.

"Hey," Dustin said with a shrug. He didn't seem at all taken aback, which unfortunately was what made him so easy to yell at. "Hook up, don't hook up; I don't care. I'm just saying. You seem good together."

The bathroom door opened, and Shane eyed them all warily. "You guys trying to scare the neighbors off, or what? What's going on?"

Hunter pushed himself to his feet. "We'll meet you there," he muttered, brushing past Shane on his way to the door. He barely made it past the lobby before he heard the door open again, and Blake's voice called out.

"Hunter, wait up!" His brother caught up easily, sliding in front of him to get his attention or block his way, it was hard to tell. "What's up with you? You and Cam are practically married, and we can't tease you about it?"

"We're friends," Hunter snapped. "I don't see why everyone has to read more into it just because I'm gay!"

"It has nothing to do with you being gay," Blake shot back. "It has everything to do with the way you act around each other. Friends don't hold the door for each other, Hunter. They don't change in front of each other, they don't use each other's silverware, and they definitely don't look at each other the way you guys did during that devil song!"

"That was a show!" Hunter protested. "We were performing!"

"Yeah, well, you didn't perform it that way two years ago!" Blake retorted. "It's not even a love song--how did you make it look like it was about an affair? And how many times have you practiced that song you did for me and Tori? Whose name do you use the rest of the time?"

"It's a performance," Hunter insisted, determined not to lose sight of the point. "We're better at it than we used to be, okay? That's all!"

"Yeah, whatever." Blake sounded anything but convinced. "Look, if it makes you happy I won't say anything to Cam. But you're awfully upset about something that you're telling me doesn't exist."

"Sure it exists!" Hunter exclaimed. "It just doesn't mean what you think it means!"

"Okay," Blake said, shaking his head in surrender. "If we're wrong, we're wrong."

"You're wrong," Hunter said firmly.

"But," Blake continued, as though he hadn't spoken, "if we're not wrong, you'd be less uptight if you were getting some."

Hunter punched him in the shoulder, harder than he'd meant to but Blake just snickered. "Think about it!" his brother advised, ducking out of reach and retreating down the hall. "I'm not telling you anything you don't know!"

That at least was the truth, Hunter thought wryly, turning away. It was the same advice he'd given Blake, years ago. At the time, he'd found Blake's discomfort hilariously entertaining. He should have known the words would come back to haunt him.

Pausing outside his door, he patted his pockets automatically and realized with dismay that he'd forgotten his key. He knocked, but there was no answer. A moment later, though, Cam opened the door with a phone to his ear and an expression of resigned amusement on his face. When he caught sight of Hunter he stepped back without a word, making room for him to enter.

"Thanks," Hunter said quietly, mindful of Cam closing the door behind him. They did hold the door for each other a lot, didn't they. He hadn't really thought about it.

"I sent you the directions in an e-mail called 'directions'," Cam told whoever was on the other end of the phone. "Two days ago. They were an exact copy of the directions that should have been in the invitation."

Hunter folded his arms, watching Cam walk past him on his way into the room. He was wearing the same dark jeans he'd been wearing this morning, but he'd changed his shirt to a long-sleeved black crewneck that would set off every gaydar within five miles. He had traded his amulet for the gold chain he sometimes wore, and it glinted in the fluorescent light. Only Cam could make such a thing look casual, even respectable.

It wasn't a hanging-out-with-the-guys outfit. It was a picking-up-guys outfit.

"No, Dad," Cam was saying. "It's an e-mail. It can't get lost. It's in your inbox, two days ago, from my school address with the subject line 'directions'."

Hunter dropped his arms with a smirk and followed Cam into the room. Cam was rifling through the pockets of his coat with one hand, trying to hold the tiny cell phone between his shoulder and his ear while he used his other hand to steady the hangar. Hunter grabbed the top of the phone just as Cam reached for it again, holding it against Cam's ear while he searched his pockets.

"You must have deleted it," Cam told his cell. He pulled the blue paper with the directions on it out of his coat and mouthed thank you to Hunter as he reached up to take the phone. "Look, I have the directions here. I'll just read them to you, okay?"

Cam turned to the bureau, setting the paper down and unfolding it with one hand. He waited, tapping an impatient finger while his dad spoke or looked for something to write with. Hunter just watched, trying to decide exactly what it was that Blake saw between them.

Cam caught his eye and obviously misread his stare. Sorry, he mouthed, rolling his eyes. He held up one finger apologetically.

Hunter waved it off, flopping down on his bed to convey his lack of caring. He rolled over on his stomach almost immediately, gaze drawn back to Cam as soon as he turned away. "It doesn't matter, Dad," he was saying. "I'll check it for you when we get home. For now, just let me give you the directions."

Sure, he looked hot. No question about it--but nothing new, either. Cam was one of those people that had to be bi, because it gave everyone a chance to dream. And yet he barely gave anyone a second glance. Why was that?

It was just Cam. That was the answer he always came up with, and he had never really questioned it. No more than he wondered why Cam looked like he was going clubbing whether they were on their way to a coffeehouse or to a sports bar like Champions. Cam went for intellectuals, not the kind of person you met at a bar, so Hunter didn't worry.

"The exit specifically says 'AGU' on it," Cam was saying. "You can't miss it. Unless you try to use your ninja telepathy while driving again."

He paused, and then added, "Of course I remember. You don't forget life-and-death experiences that quickly."

Cam was leaning against the bureau now, talking to the lamp on the nightstand between their beds. His gaze dropped to Hunter's while he listened, and he smiled wryly. It was an expression that invited response, and Hunter found himself smiling back. Not smirking at Cam's exasperation, not sneering at his dad's technological incompetence--just smiling, like he did it every time their eyes met unexpectedly.

See, that was exactly why he couldn't start thinking about Cam this way. Cam was hot, smart, and totally out of his league. Always had been, always would be. Hunter was the complete opposite of anyone Cam had ever dated--which was saying something, considering Cam used to date quite a lot.

"There's a big sign on the door," Cam said with a sigh. "You can read it from the road; it says 'Waysmeet'." There was a pause, and then a quirk of his lips. "Well, for all I know Rosie is a Ninja Academy graduate herself. Maybe you'll have something to talk about."

Okay, now he was in trouble. He couldn't take his eyes off of Cam. This was one of those things that would go back to wherever it had come from, right? He would get distracted and the next thing he knew he would forget he'd ever wondered? It really wasn't fair, he decided, that everyone thought they were together and he wasn't even allowed to stare.

"Yes, you did interrupt," Cam told the phone. "Hunter and I were just about to have wild, passionate sex and now you've totally ruined the mood. Thanks for asking."

He did not just say that. Hunter watched him watch the nightstand lamp, gaze diverted and for the moment perfectly safe. Cam nodded once, apparently in response to something his father had said, then added aloud, "Sure. See you tomorrow, Dad."

There was the briefest pause, then, "Bye." This last was said with an almost indistinguishable sigh, and Cam shook his head as he lowered the phone.

"Wild, passionate sex?" Hunter repeated, intrigued.

Cam glanced over at him. "Sorry," he said with a grimace. "I have to throw it in his face every so often or he starts to revert."

Hunter frowned, surprised that Cam hadn't mentioned it before. "I thought he was over that 'it's just a phase' thing."

Cam shrugged, gaze sliding toward the window. "Every time I go out with a girl, it comes up again."

He considered that. If there was any way to bring his parents back, he would have done it in a heartbeat... but at least he had been spared the agony of coming out to them. "That why you haven't been dating lately?" Hunter asked at last.

Cam turned away, refolding the sheet with the directions on it and putting it back in one of his coat pockets. "No," he said over his shoulder. "Too busy." He smoothed the coat out and caught Hunter's eye again, a half-smile on his face. "What's your excuse?"

It was his turn to shrug, feeling oddly defensive about it. Since when did it matter whether he was seeing anyone or not? "Maybe after the season ends," he said vaguely. He rolled over on his back and sat up, checking for his keys. "You ready?"

"Yeah." He saw Cam trade the phone for his wallet before he realized he was staring again, and he shook his head. Picking up his room key, he grabbed his sweatshirt and they headed out.

They found Champions without any trouble, other than their usual bickering over the best way to get anywhere. As far as Hunter was concerned, Champions was just off the boardwalk, and the boardwalk was west. Once you hit the water, there were only two choices: north or south. Fifty-fifty. If they got lost, they would ask someone.

Cam, on the other hand, felt that there would be no need to ask if they only followed the correct road. And of course he had his own opinions about which one was the correct one. Hunter was sure he stored a map of previously taken turns and street names in his head so that once they reached their destination he could explain how they could have gotten there faster his way.

It was a Friday night, and the small cyber bar was predictably crowded. The internet stations were all occupied, as Hunter had known they would be, and they found the rest of the guys in the back by the pool table. Apparently Shane and Dustin were trying their hand at the game, while Blake stood nearby and made fun of whoever was shooting. The baseball game played on the TV over their table.

"Hey!" Blake greeted them without giving Cam's appearance a second glance. "Want a drink? The first round's on me."

"Yeah, and that's the only time you'll ever hear him say that," Shane put in from the table. "Better take advantage of it."

"I'll take a raincheck," Hunter said with a grin. "I have a score to settle with my little bro first."

Blake lifted his hands in self-defense. "Hey, I don't know what you think I did, but--"

"Last time we were here," Hunter interrupted, before he could get any further. "You beat me at darts, remember?"

Blake's expression cleared. "Don't know how you think you're gonna settle that score," he taunted. "It's not like you can beat me!"

"Bring it on," Hunter challenged. "This time, I'm getting the darts, and you're going first!"

"Don't do that," Cam said, out of the blue. Hunter paused, but Cam was talking to Dustin. "You'll never make that shot into the far corner. The six-ball is just sitting there, waiting for you."

"Hey," Shane objected, even as Dustin lifted his cue and backed off. "No audience participation!"

"Speak for yourself, man," Dustin told him. "Blake showed you how to break. Cam's allowed to give strategic advice!"

"Yeah," Shane grumbled good-naturedly. "To me!"

Hunter grinned, retrieving the darts and handing three of them to Blake. His brother was awfully good at darts, but not as good as Cam was at pool. He wondered if Dustin and Shane had any real idea... Cam amused himself by beating Hunter whenever he had the opportunity.

Blake won, of course, and Dustin handed his cue to Cam while he went to take Blake up on his offer of drinks. When Shane failed to sink a single ball, Cam took over and that was the end of the game. Dustin came back in time to watch, cheer, and generally mock Shane in the most inoffensive Dustin-like way. Cam was good.

Shane persuaded Cam to give him a lesson, and Dustin settled back to watch. He was actually dividing his attention between the "lesson" and the TV, which made for some interesting commentary. Hunter challenged Blake to yet another game of darts, which Blake won easily, and somehow he missed the moment when Cam slipped away.

He glanced around, frowning, as Blake went forward to pull their darts out of the board. "Where'd Cam go?" he asked Dustin.

"I dunno, I think he's checking out the computers," Dustin said absently. He was paying more attention to the game than anything else at this point, but Blake had obviously overheard.

"He's down at the other end of the bar," Blake offered, pointing past Hunter with one of the darts. "Looks like he talked that guy out of his internet connection after all."

Hunter frowned in the direction Blake had pointed. It probably hadn't been the talking that did it. "I'll be back," he told Blake, starting across the bar toward Cam and the computer in question.

The guy who had been using it before Cam must have seen him coming, because Cam was alone by the time Hunter got to him. He draped an arm over Cam's shoulder anyway, leaning forward to see the screen better. He was perfectly aware that it looked like he was whispering in Cam's ear, and he didn't care. Bar denizens were off limits. Cam could date anyone he wanted from school and Hunter wouldn't say a word. But he was not going to butter up some random creep off the street just so he could amuse himself on the internet.

"Got a site address?" Cam asked, not batting an eye at Hunter's abrupt presence.

Grudgingly, Hunter recited it for him. It was a real site, even one that Blake had referred him to and he had never been able to get into. But he hadn't tried very hard, and he wasn't particularly interested in trying now. Especially if Cam was going to use success as an excuse to leave.

The site loaded on the first try, and Cam didn't say a word. He just tried to click through the splash page, and suddenly an error message popped up and the browser window vanished. Cam grunted noncommittally, but Hunter could tell he was surprised.

Cam tried again. Hunter grabbed an empty stool and pulled it over, using the computer as an excuse to keep his shoulder up against Cam's. He wasn't staring. That was an improvement, right? He was just warning people away from Cam, was all. They watched each other's backs.

Cam finally got into the site and then spent the next five minutes explaining the problems it caused and the fact that the graphics weren't really worth it. He nodded at appropriate moments, and Cam typed in a different 'zone address from memory. Hunter paid very little attention during the lecture on the fluid and apparently fickle nature of internet gaming.

He did look up, however, when the bartender placed two beers in front of them and even Cam paused. "From the ladies on the other side of the bar," the man told them, stepping out of the way with a sideways gesture.

Two girls, as close as they were and giggling into each other's shoulders, waved when the bartender indicated them. Hunter grinned back, amused, and lifted his beer in thanks. That made one of the girls wave again, and she looked like she was about to get up when Cam poked him in the ribs.

"Hunter," he hissed, sounding more than a little exasperated. "Don't encourage them."

"Why not?" Hunter demanded. "I appreciate a free beer as much as the next guy."

"Well, I don't," Cam said coldly. "If you want women to giggle over you, go somewhere else and leave me alone."

Since when did he want women to giggle over him? Cam was unusually snippy about the whole thing, and Hunter regarded him with surprise. "You done?" he asked at last.

Cam frowned at the computer but didn't say anything. Deliberately not looking at the other side of the bar, Hunter nudged his shoulder. "C'mon and dance," he urged, sliding off his stool and standing up. "It'll get those girls off our backs, if that's what you want."

Cam sighed, not taking his eyes off the screen. "I'm not dancing with you in front of them," he informed Hunter. He didn't have to specify. "Not with the way Blake's been watching us."

"Thought you didn't care what anyone else thinks," Hunter countered. He should have known Cam wouldn't be oblivious to Blake's attitude. "Friends can dance with each other, Cam. It's not against the law."

Cam rolled his eyes, but he allowed himself to be prodded up out of his seat. Hunter grabbed the other beer and saluted the girls across the bar before passing it to Cam. "Don't leave your drink," he chided.

"Why not?" Cam retorted dryly. "I don't want it."

Hunter feigned surprise as they twisted through the cluster of people gathered in front of the band. "And here I thought you were the polite one."

"What?" It was too loud to talk to someone's back here, this close to the speakers, and Hunter caught Cam's shoulder to turn him around. Draping his free arm over Cam's back, he pulled him closer and made a point of ignoring the band's rhythm.

"I said," he repeated, leaning in, "I thought you were the polite one."

Cam had to get close enough to talk in his ear, which Hunter didn't mind at all. "I'm also the DD," Cam informed him, shifting enough so that he could hang the hand with the beer over Hunter's shoulders. "No alcohol."

"One little beer's not going to put you over the limit," Hunter grumbled. He knew there was no arguing with Cam on this one, but that had never stopped him from trying.

"If I drink, we're both riding with someone else," Cam said firmly. "So unless you want to leave your truck here, let it go."

Hunter shrugged, but he wasn't about to remind Cam of the original plan. If Cam was going to stick around, he didn't mind losing an argument or two. "Whatever you say," he agreed, resting his own beer against Cam's hip.

He was aware as he did it of Cam's free hand pressing against his chest. He didn't say anything, but that particular gesture annoyed the hell out of him when they danced. It kept them at a polite distance that forced Hunter to lean whenever he wanted to be heard instead of just pulling Cam closer and talking directly into his ear. The latter would have been a lot more convenient--not to mention comfortable--but Cam was just enough shorter that it probably didn't occur to him.

"It didn't work," Cam muttered, and Hunter obligingly leaned closer.

"What?"

Cam nodded over his shoulder, and Hunter turned until he caught sight of the girls from the bar. Hand in hand, they were making their way toward the dancers even as he watched. "So?" he demanded. "They're probably together. Who cares?"

"You don't buy a guy a beer if you're with someone else," Cam countered, and the hand on Hunter's chest slipped a little as he craned his neck.

Hunter slid his arm around Cam's waist, pressing their bodies together before Cam could object. "Shows how much you know," he said in Cam's ear. Yeah, that was better. Loud music, cold beer, and an undeniably sexy partner... he could live with this.

Cam's voice in his ear was sarcastic and not at all unexpected. "You think a foursome would be better than them hitting on us individually?"

Hunter chuckled, lowering his head to rest his cheek against Cam's temple. "Depends on whether you'd go for a foursome or not," he teased.

He could see the girls coming without lifting his head, and he knew they were going to purposefully jostle Cam before they did it. "Right behind you," he murmured, and sure enough, the redhead bumped Cam hard enough that Hunter had to shift his weight to compensate.

"Hey guys," the redhead said with a laugh, making no attempt at apology. "Crowded tonight, huh?"

Cam turned instinctively, but Hunter didn't let him go. Keeping one arm around his waist, Hunter switched his beer to his other hand and took a drink. "Sure is," he agreed amiably. "Thanks for the beers."

"Thanks for giving us something to watch," the redhead replied saucily, and Hunter grinned.

"You gonna return the favor?" he wanted to know.

Cam elbowed him, and Hunter wrapped his other arm around him, holding him tightly enough that he couldn't inflict further physical abuse. The fact that he also felt damn good pressed up against Hunter's chest was entirely incidental. Resting his head against Cam's, he breathed in shampoo scent and warmth as he raised his eyebrows at the girls expectantly.

The redhead only smiled, winding her fingers through her girlfriend's hair as they slid into each other's arms. They knew what they were doing, too--they actually found a rhythm that coincided with every third or fourth beat of the music, making a slow dance into something that looked like it belonged there. Cam's hands found his, and Hunter absently appreciated the feel of their fingers twining together.

Then Cam shifted subtly, grinding backwards, and everything else in the room disappeared. Hunter froze and immediately tried to relax, tried not to let Cam hear his breath catch. That was an accident, right? He couldn't have done that on purpose, because Hunter knew Cam and Cam was Not Interested.

Cam moved again, and Hunter's grip tightened involuntarily. No way could he pretend that didn't affect him. He dropped his mouth to Cam's ear and whispered, "Fuck, Cam! Warn a guy before you do that, all right?"

Cam tilted his head, moving just enough that Hunter's mouth brushed his skin, and Hunter drew back in surprise. He felt Cam's free hand snake around behind his neck. His head was drawn back down before he knew what was happening, and Cam's face was inches from his as he murmured, "You want to be outdone by them?"

This was a game? Cam never used that voice outside of performances, except maybe when they were practicing, and he wasn't the most demonstrative person in the world even on the dance floor. But if he was offering... this was one game that Hunter could get into.

Taking the unspoken invitation, he lowered his face to Cam's neck and pressed his lips to bare skin. God, he tasted good. He would. Because he was Cam, and damn, was he in a weird mood tonight. Cam shimmied back against him again, making Hunter gasp as he kissed his way across Cam's jaw.

They were supposed to be dancing, not making out. But he was allowed to be physical for the next... however many minutes until they got themselves kicked out? Oh yeah. He was gonna take advantage of this. No question.

He was barely conscious of the way he rolled his shoulders as Cam's fingers trailed across his neck, but he did know in the back of his mind that he was responding to someone he wasn't supposed to want. Cam was his friend, maybe his best friend, and the reason they could be so close was that they both understood the boundaries. He could say and do anything around Cam precisely because Cam was Off Limits.

That hadn't changed, he reasoned. Rubbing his hand across Cam's chest, he pressed his mouth to the back of Cam's neck and smiled at the almost invisible shudder that ran through that lithe body. It wasn't like he had asked Cam to... Yeah, this was all Cam's idea. He wasn't breaking any rules here.

Hunter stepped into him, brushing his fingers against Cam's throat as he slid his leg between Cam's. He felt Cam swallow hard, and the hand behind his neck dropped down to his hip. There was a tentative push, the pounding in his ears louder than any base, and a rush of pleasure so unsatisfying that he buried his face in Cam's neck to choke back a moan.

The next thing he knew, they were moving together in a rhythm that had nothing to do with the music. He could feel Cam's fingers clenching and unclenching against his thigh. He didn't have any control over this feeling, and he couldn't care less. The only thing that kept him from tearing that black shirt off was the fact that Cam's back was pressed up against his chest and they were surrounded by a roomful of people--

Including one very unhappy bouncer, who could no longer ignore the show taking place right in front of a band that didn't seem to mind at all. "Kids!" he shouted, wading through the knot that had gathered around them and the girls. "Keep it clean or take it somewhere else!"

Hunter groaned, not caring anymore whether Cam heard him or not. He tore himself away, crushing Cam's hand in his and feeling the pressure painfully returned. He ached all over and all he could think about was getting out of this bar. He pulled Cam toward the door, not caring who saw.

The warm, damp air washed over them as they pushed their way out into the night, but it did nothing to alleviate the longing coursing through him. The surf whispered in the background, white noise that dampened the street sounds and the voices and the music that spilled up and down the boardwalk in every direction. People drifted by, in groups or in pairs, under lights that turned the darkness into daylight, and still the only thing Hunter saw was Cam.

Cam, who had braced himself against the outside wall and let his eyes close when his head fell back against it. Cam, whose whole body was stiff and whose fingers were clenched white around the bottle he had somehow gotten past the bouncer. Cam, who looked like he was fighting something so deep that he couldn't afford a single distraction lest his mind lose its tenuous grasp on reality.

He looked as likely to snap as melt if Hunter so much as touched him.

Hunter couldn't keep himself from doing it. He ground his fist into the wall behind Cam's head, fighting a losing battle as he leaned closer, tried not to and failed, his mouth a breath away from Cam's when Cam opened his eyes. That look stopped Hunter where a thousand other things couldn't have.

There was more than desire in that look.

Hunter stared into an anguished expression that he couldn't begin to comprehend. There was something there that he was supposed to know, that Cam wanted him to know, but it was gone before he could realize it and he felt incredibly clumsy in its wake. What didn't he know? What hadn't he seen? And why was it so wrong to kiss Cam now?

He couldn't do it. He wanted to. Hell, he wanted to do more than just kiss. But he couldn't. Not with Cam looking at him like that.

"What?" he demanded, the word harsh in his throat, forced out past the rushing in his ears. "What's wrong?"

Cam turned his head, dark eyes staring toward the street and he looked ready to bolt. Hunter almost put his hand against the wall on the other side of him, just to keep him there, but nothing would piss Cam off more than being trapped. Which wasn't to say that he wouldn't grab him if he tried to run.

"I'm going back to the hotel," Cam muttered, voice hoarse in the shadows.

He didn't move, and Hunter held perfectly still. "Not without me you aren't," he warned, gaze fixed on Cam's face. He knew how it sounded. There was nothing else he could say.

Cam's answer was stiff and cold. "I don't think that's a good idea."

His fingers were going numb against the wall and he pushed harder, scraping pain into his knuckles as he glared down at Cam. "I didn't start this," Hunter growled. "Don't blame me for reacting to you when you're the poster boy for hot gay sex!"

Fuck. He did not just say that.

Cam's head jerked around, looking startled and cornered and angry all at once. "That was a dance," he spat. His eyes were inches from Hunter's and he might be upset but he wasn't intimidated in the slightest. "I don't sleep with my friends."

"Then maybe you'd better stop dancing with your friends," Hunter snapped, "because that sure felt like an invitation to me!"

God, he just could not keep his mouth shut. What was wrong with him? They had been close before, he had thought like this before, he had felt like this before. But Cam was Cam, and he didn't want Hunter. As long as Hunter was sure of that everything was fine.

"You're the one who wanted to dance," Cam reminded him icily. "You're the one who had to flirt with those girls. And in case you didn't notice, you're the one who dragged me out here!"

He could admire to his heart's content as long as he didn't stare. He could tease about anything he could think of as long as it was only teasing. He could hug and hold and dance... as long as he didn't want. He could pretend to the bar, to the crowd, to the whole world that they were together as long as he didn't expect Cam to actually consider the possibility.

"Don't you dare try to put this on me," Hunter hissed. "I have never, ever made a pass at you until now! I wouldn't have done it tonight if you hadn't done everything but ask for it!"

Cam flinched, twisting his head to glare over Hunter's shoulder, but Hunter refused to back off. Now he expected consideration. Cam had crossed the line. Cam had made him want and then told him to forget it, and that just wasn't going to happen. He couldn't turn it off, couldn't ignore the fact that, for however brief a time, Cam had wanted him back.

Cam shoved away from the wall, pushing past Hunter only to halt two steps away. His back was stiff, arms crossed tight over his chest, and he still clutched his beer bottle in one hand. In any other circumstance, it would have been funny, but tonight it just seemed wrong. Everything about tonight was wrong.

Cam mumbled something, and it took everything Hunter had to stand his ground and not invade the space that Cam obviously wanted. "What?" he demanded irritably.

"I said I'm sorry," Cam snapped, not turning. "All right? I'm sorry."

That was quite possibly the last thing Hunter had expected, and he just stood there, gaping at Cam's back. He almost repeated, "What?" but he managed to stifle the word just in time.

"I wasn't thinking," Cam muttered. The words were barely audible, and again, Hunter had to hold himself back. He knew when not to get in Cam's face--didn't he? Until tonight he had.

"Doesn't matter," he offered at last, feeling that some reply was necessary. He was at a loss when it came to accepting an apology he hadn't actually been looking for. Of course, it did matter, but what was he supposed to do when Cam was all hunched over and miserable looking?

"Yes, it does." The words were strained, and Cam lifted his head to stare at some undefined object on the street. "This was my fault... Not yours."

Hunter shrugged uncomfortably, dismayed by the self-recrimination in Cam's voice. "Maybe you didn't notice," he began carefully, "but... I didn't exactly--object."

Cam didn't answer, and he sighed. "I'm just saying," he mumbled, wishing Cam would at least turn around. A little eye contact would go a long way here. "I'm not totally... against the idea, y'know?"

Cam's shoulders slumped, and he had to be staring at the ground again. "I don't sleep with my friends," he repeated quietly.

Hunter took a deep breath, made sure his voice was even as he replied, "Okay. Right, I get that." He didn't get that, because who else did he trust enough to go to bed with? But Cam obviously meant that he wasn't going to sleep with Hunter, and he would have to respect that or risk losing the person he did everything with.

Almost everything.

Cam turned his head, not quite far enough to make his face visible. "Just like that?"

"Just like that," Hunter agreed evenly. How else could it be? "Just like always."

Cam didn't answer.

"So..." Hunter shifted awkwardly, wondering how far to push. "We going back inside, or what?"

He heard Cam sigh, a swift exhalation that could have been the ghost of a laugh or a groan. Turning to face Hunter at last, he shook his head, color washed out by the too-bright lights of the parking lot and his eyes cast in shadow. "I'm going back to the hotel," he said quietly.

Hunter hesitated, then nodded once. "I'm going with you," he declared. Before Cam could object, he added, "You wouldn't send me back in there to face Blake alone, would you? C'mon," he prompted with a smile. "Have a little compassion."

Cam's lips twitched--reluctantly, Hunter thought, but at least his expression had lightened a little. "Fine," he murmured, glancing down at the beer in his hand. With a sigh, he thrust it at Hunter. "Get this away from me, would you? It's starting to look palatable."

Hunter smirked half-heartedly, taking the proffered beer and a swallow for himself before he deposited it on the ground by the wall. "Don't say it," he warned, holding up his finger when Cam opened his mouth. "There are people who get paid to clean this up."

Cam just sighed, clearly not in lecture mode right now. "Give me your keys."

Hunter fished them out of his pocket and handed them over, noting that Cam folded his arms again almost immediately. Even by Cam's standards, it hadn't cooled off that much. Hunter watched him out of the corner of his eye as they made their way toward the truck. The hunched posture didn't completely disguise the lines of his body--

Which Hunter was not looking at. He fixed his gaze on the truck with a sigh, wondering how long it would take to forget the feel of Cam's body grinding against his. He was just guessing, but "a really, really long time" didn't seem to quite cover it. He would definitely have to start dating again.

Cam unlocked the passenger door from the inside, and Hunter grabbed his sweatshirt as he climbed in. He handed it to Cam without a word. Reaching for his seatbelt, he couldn't help noticing that Cam wrapped it around his shoulders instead of actually putting it on. The engine rumbled to life and the truck rolled slowly out of the parking lot, the only sound in the cab that of the blinker as Cam turned onto the street.

They made the trip back in almost complete silence. Hunter amused himself by counting the number of pedestrians dressed more warmly than Cam, which was a surprising number for the middle of August. As they got closer to the hotel, though, he started keeping an eye out for places that served breakfast. The obvious choices were limited by Cam's aversion to fast food, but there were several promising alternatives.

Neither of them said anything as the truck pulled into a space directly under the motel windows, headlights flaring against the building and then fading to nothing as the engine died. Cam didn't move, and there was no telling what thoughts were running through his head. Hunter was still too, staring through the windshield as he considered the situation.

It was late. Admittedly not as late as he had expected, but spending the night in a cheap motel had enough implications without it being Friday night on top of it all. It was also the night before his brother's wedding, which meant that he really ought to be celebrating. But not with Cam, apparently, and if it wasn't with Cam then what was the point?

Finally Cam sighed, put his hand on the door and pushed it open. Hunter debated saying something, but nothing useful sprang to mind. He followed Cam into the building, noting that the front desk was unoccupied but the security camera swiveled to track them across the lobby. He was pretty sure it hadn't moved the last time they came in.

Cam still had Hunter's sweatshirt over his shoulders when he slid his card into the lock, and he braced a foot against the door to hold it while Hunter shuffled into the room. Hunter hit the lightswitch, and Cam caught the door handle after he'd replaced his key to close the door behind them. Hunter couldn't help remembering what Anna Mae had said about chivalry.

Hesitating outside the bathroom door, Hunter watched Cam disappear into the room's shadows to turn on another light. "You want a shower?" he called after him.

"No." Cam's answer came immediately. "I'll take one in the morning."

At least they wouldn't have to fight over who went first. "It's better for your chi to shower at night," Hunter reminded him, trying to keep the smirk out of his voice.

"My 'chi' needs sleep more than it needs a shower," Cam replied, and Hunter grinned.

There were a lot of good things about showers, he decided, as the hot spray soaked into his skin. The pressure, the heat, the abandon... no, he was not going to turn the temperature down just because Cam had gotten to him. He'd be damned if he gave up one of the most relaxing things in the world for someone who couldn't even stomach beer.

Listing all of Cam's bad qualities, of which there were unfortunately few, was not as much fun as he thought it would be, so he decided to stop thinking. Nope, no thinking in this shower. No anything in this shower. Just good, clean fun. With an emphasis on "clean."

He expected the light in the entryway to be on when he finally emerged, towel around his waist and clothes in hand, dampness making his hair go in every direction. He didn't expect the room lights to still be on, too. He paused, listening to the soft strumming that emanated from around the corner. Since when did Cam stay up past his bedtime just to play guitar?

He padded into the room on bare feet, checking out Cam's position on the floor with a quick glance. Cam almost never played on the floor, but he was braced against his bed and hunched over the guitar with the focus he usually reserved for new chord progressions. Hunter shook his head, dropping his clothes next to his duffel bag and pulling out a clean pair of boxers. Tonight might not be a bad night to sleep in a t-shirt too.

So, clad in boxers and a t-shirt, he returned his towel to the bathroom and retrieved his comb from the sink. He tugged at his hair for a minute, wondering what exactly Cam was doing. Or more precisely, what he was planning to do. He was still dressed in his bar clothes, wearing Hunter's sweatshirt and showing no sign of the sleep he had been so eager for before. What would Cam do if Hunter just went over and turned the light out?

Ah, well. He had slept with the lights on before, and if it made Cam feel better then he wasn't going to interrupt. Dropping his comb, he turned away from the mirror and wandered over to his own bed. Cam paused then, and Hunter glanced over in time to see him lifting the guitar off of his knees and setting it on the bed behind him.

"You don't have to do that," he blurted, surprising even himself. "I mean--" He dropped down onto his bed, shrugging a little. "It's fine. It sounds nice."

Cam didn't answer, but he pulled the guitar back into his lap and resumed an idle chord that didn't really seem to be going anywhere. Hunter lay down, staring up at the ceiling, then finally rolled over on his side to watch. It didn't seem totally wrong, since Cam was the only source of activity in the room--but it did surprise him to catch Cam's eye before Cam lowered his head again.

"How come you never learned," Cam said abruptly, quietly, not quite making it a question. He kept his eyes on the guitar, the strings squeaking as he slid his fingers across them.

"Didn't care that much," Hunter answered, surprised into honesty. He realized how that sounded and added hastily, "I mean, I like what we do. But not because of the way it sounds. Just because--"

He stopped, then said slowly, "Just because we do it, together." If he had learned to play, they might have lost that. Not intentionally... but if they didn't have to practice together, then what guarantee was there that they would keep doing it?

Cam nodded once, as though that made perfect sense.

Hunter studied him carefully. That scene outside the bar played in his mind again, and he tried not to think too much about the way it had felt. It was the way Cam had looked that kept bothering him. He was trying, so far without success, to pin that expression down: hungry, yes, wanting, definitely, but something more, too--something that had made him push Hunter away.

No, he told himself firmly. Stop thinking. Cam doesn't want you. That's all you need to know.

It wasn't, though, and he knew it. Because Cam did want him. That much had been made clear to him this evening in a way it never had been before. So why--?

Cam was staring back at him. The strumming continued, and he hadn't even noticed when Cam lifted his head. He didn't know whether to look away or smile or apologize or what... but Cam wasn't saying anything. So Hunter just kept looking.

Cam had cool eyes. He'd had plenty of opportunity to notice this, considering the way they performed together, and he didn't see anything wrong with appreciating it now. He wondered idly what Cam was thinking, sitting there, staring impassively up at him as the last chord fading away into nothing.

Hunter blinked. Cam had stopped playing. Which meant they were just sitting there, or in his case, lying with his head propped up on one arm, watching each other. He probably ought to feel uncomfortable, either because Cam could see how he was looking at him or because he was looking at Hunter the same way.

"Friends don't look at each other like that," Blake had said. But what was Cam, if not his friend? Why did it matter how they looked at each other, as long as they were both cool with it?

Why had Cam pushed him away?

The sound of shouting from the parking lot made him frown, glancing over his shoulder automatically. There was the sound of a car door slamming, and he looked back at Cam just as tires started to squeal. Cam was putting his guitar down, clearly about to get up, and Hunter dropped his arm and rolled over. Swinging his legs over the other side of the bed, he got up and padded to the window, Cam coming up right behind him as he pushed the blinds aside.

There wasn't much to see. Whoever had been making the tires shriek was already gone, and although there were two people making their way from the parking lot toward the front of the motel, they looked more interested in each other than anything else. Hunter checked for his truck, found it right where they'd left it, and glanced over at Cam as he let go of the blinds.

"Crazy college kids," he joked, aware of Cam's proximity in a way he could usually ignore. Cam's lips quirked, and he dipped his head in acknowledgement. But he didn't turn away.

Hunter couldn't help it. He lifted his hand to Cam's face, hesitating half a second before brushing his fingers against Cam's cheek. Cam just stood there, looking at him. Hunter trailed his fingers back, touch as soft as he could make it, hand coming to rest on the back of his neck as he took a step closer.

Cam's lips parted, eyes wide and dark as he recognized the situation for what it was. "Don't," he breathed, his gaze not leaving Hunter's face.

Hunter stopped, considering Cam's expression. "Don't say that unless you mean it," he said quietly.

Cam's gaze dropped to his mouth, and when he tilted his head the slightest bit that was all the invitation Hunter needed. He leaned forward, just a gentle brush of skin on skin as his mouth found Cam's and then withdrew. He studied those dark eyes for a moment. Not a word of protest, not even the hint of a frown.

Holding that gaze as long as he could, he leaned in again and covered parted lips with his own. This time he was aware of Cam's hand on his chest--that same stupid thing he did when they were dancing--but he wasn't trying to push him away. He was returning the pressure on his mouth. He was tilting his head enough that they could kiss comfortably. He was being an active and willing participant, all things considered, and that seemed strange for someone who had been as vehement as he had been earlier and had never shown any interest whatsoever before then.

Hunter wasn't complaining. His free hand found Cam's shoulder and he leaned harder on the arm that pressed against his chest. He worked his lips across Cam's, catching, sucking, nuzzling, doing everything he could without actually invading his mouth. If Cam wanted tongue action he could damn well start it himself, because not saying "don't" wasn't the same as saying "do."

Or that's what he told himself. Noble words. The reality of it was that the moment he felt Cam's tongue flicker against his lips, he pounced. He slid his tongue under it, drew it into his mouth, surged forward to return the favor and felt Cam brace himself clumsily against the windowsill. He might have felt guilty if he hadn't been distracted by a soft moan that warmed the inside of his mouth, and damned if it wasn't the sexiest thing he'd ever heard.

Then Cam was pulling away, maybe embarrassed, which was sort of cute but annoying at the same time. Hunter let him go anyway, giving him a smirk that was his only defense against that withering expression. "You're a good kisser," he teased, hoping he didn't sound as out of breath as Cam looked. "Who'd have thought?"

"Funny," Cam retorted, words as sharp as ever despite the flush that had crept across his face. He didn't miss a beat. "I was going to say the same thing about you."

And he had no answer for that, no clever reply to deflect Cam's attention. All he could do was stand there and stare at him and wait. Because if Cam hadn't wanted to do that, now would be the time to tell him. And if he had... Hunter wanted to do it again. He hoped Cam couldn't tell how much he wanted it, because--for one thing, it would be embarrassing, and for another they hadn't exactly addressed the cold shoulder issue. If Cam was okay with kissing, why hadn't he let Hunter do it before?

Cam shifted his weight, searching Hunter's face for who-knew-what. "What?" he asked at last, sounding oddly defensive.

Hunter broke into a grin. He couldn't help it, it just took over and there he was, grinning like an idiot because Cam wasn't telling him to get lost. "I dunno," he admitted, without taking his eyes off of Cam. Gesturing vaguely at the lights, he added, "You look kinda cute in the fluorescence."

He expected Cam to roll his eyes, come up with an offhand comment faster than he had been able to and put his awkward compliment in its place. Instead he just flushed, glancing down at the floor and then back up. "Must be the color," he said, deadpan.

It startled a laugh out of Hunter, and he let his gaze wander a little. "You look good in red," he agreed, reaching out on the pretense of straightening the sweatshirt he had brought only because he knew Cam wouldn't.

"Crimson," Cam corrected, although his voice didn't sound quite as firm as it had a moment before. He looked down as Hunter smoothed the sweatshirt across his chest, then lifted his chin when fingers found his collar and tweaked it, supposedly lining it up with the crewneck underneath. "Red is a whole other--a whole different thing."

Hunter didn't miss the stammer. He would have liked to think it coincided with his hands on Cam's skin, but there was a better way than asking to find out. "I think this is maroon," he murmured, lowering his head to Cam's shoulder and tugging the neckline as he went.

He pressed his lips to Cam's collarbone, pleased with the way he shivered when Hunter's tongue flicked across his skin. As an afterthought, Hunter added, "Gays are good with colors, y'know."

"Oh?" Cam inquired. He tilted his head back as Hunter kissed, softly but thoroughly, a line all the way up Cam's neck toward his jaw. "Did someone tell you that?"

"Yeah," he said, finding Cam's mouth again and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "His name was Cameron Watanabe." Kissing Cam was not only a total turn on, it was also a great way to shut him up. He slid the hand on Cam's collar around behind his neck, fingers splayed against bare skin as he leaned into an open-mouthed kiss that was as much Cam's idea as his.

This time he let Cam's tongue do the exploring, holding back even when he felt fingers fist in his t-shirt. He caught Cam's elbow, as much to keep himself from getting too close as to keep Cam from getting away. He wasn't going to spook him again. He was enjoying this too much to push--especially if Cam was going to back off every time he tried.

Cam was the one pushing. He'd stepped back before he realized what was happening, and Cam followed instinctively and unapologetically. His free hand had clenched on the hem of Hunter's t-shirt, just low enough to make his breath catch when Cam leaned into him like that. Letting go of Cam's elbow was automatic, his hand coming to rest on the small of his back as he suddenly found himself with an armful of unrestrained hunger.

Hell yeah. Hunter forgot about trying to be polite or patient. He held on hard, his fingers sliding into dark hair as he plunged his tongue into Cam's mouth. Cam didn't object, didn't protest, didn't do anything but press closer and return the kiss like he wanted this more than Hunter did.

His mind produced an image of Cam outside the bar again. Backed up against the wall, tense and white as a ghost, like his world had just blown up in his face... trying to tell him something. Hunter pushed the thought aside ruthlessly. He was far more interested in this Cam than that one, and this Cam was moving against him in all the right ways.

This Cam was moving him toward the bed. He wasn't about to ask questions, but where the hell had this come from? No, he really wasn't going to ask questions. Maybe if he told himself that often enough he would believe it. He wasn't going to ask how Cam had made the jump from kissing to falling into bed, from making out to making love, from something that felt way too good to something he'd sworn he didn't do with friends.

Cam pulled away just long enough to lift his sweatshirt over his head, and Hunter had to help him--not because he wanted his clothes off, but because the sooner it was gone the sooner he could get his hands back on Cam's body. Black really did look good on him. Like he hadn't known that since the first day he started training.

Cam braced one knee on the bed, then the other, long arms around Hunter's neck pulling him down too. It was actually kind of fun to be off-balance, to be the surprised one, to be on a mattress with a really hot guy crawling all over him. And God, to have it be Cam...

Where was this coming from?

Shut the fuck up, he told his brain in no uncertain terms.

He kind of regretted that they didn't get all of their clothes off. Their pre-wedding exhaustion made the whole thing feel a little desperate. He didn't even get to make snarky comments about smiley faces that weren't as washable as they'd thought, because who couldn't use an extra mouth in situations like this? But there was very little talking, and in a way he couldn't explain, he was almost disappointed.

Almost. It felt good, intense, uncomplicated for the first time today. It relieved the ache he had been trying to suppress. It made Cam relax, finally, draining some of the tension out of him that Hunter hadn't been able to touch. And for the first time he was allowed to kiss, whenever and whatever he wanted, and there was just nothing bad about that.

He didn't want to let go afterward, but Cam looked pathetically tired and would sleep better with the lights off. With a sigh, Hunter let him finish undressing while he dragged himself up to go after the lightswitch. Cam's bed was closer to the door, which was a good thing in the near-total darkness. Hunter found him by the sound of his breathing, running a hand down his back and wrapping an arm around his waist. He savored the feeling for the briefest moment, then hauled him down into clean sheets without a word.

The distinction between waking and sleeping was lost on him after that. He felt like he was continuously aware of the body pressed up against his but nothing else. He noticed, through dream shadows and the fog of unconsciousness, that Cam pulled away from him at some point. He must have rolled over himself then, because somehow their positions got reversed and he felt Cam spoon up behind him as he drifted off again.

He didn't know what pulled him out of drowsy lethargy next, maybe the soft sound of his name, maybe some shift in the sleepy heat beside him. He listened idly, unroused, unmoving, waiting to see if it came again. He had never been much of a cuddler, at least not while he was sleeping, but there were worse things than having this particular body curled around his in the middle of the night.

There was nothing but silence for a long moment. The lightest of kisses against his shoulder blade was the first indication he had that something really had woken him... or rather, someone. He smiled to himself. Who knew Cam was such a sap?

Then, so softly it was almost inaudible, three words more felt than heard as Cam's whisper breathed across his skin.

His eyes snapped open. He held perfectly still. Keeping his breathing slow and even, he hoped like hell that he hadn't just heard what he thought he'd heard. No. That was crazy. Of course it was crazy. Cam couldn't possibly have said he loved him. Because he didn't--he couldn't...

Hunter stared unseeing into the darkness. He flashed back to Cam outside the bar, that inexplicably tortured look on his face. The look of someone with a secret he wasn't going to compromise by giving in to passion.

Shit.

What had he done?