"Fish paste, anyone?" grinned Jamie, wafting the evil smelling substance under our noses, causing us all to grimace. How Jamie could even CONTEMPLATE eating that stuff was beyond me - just the thought of it made my flesh crawl...

A second later, Tay shuffled over to me and wrapped his arms round me. I smiled. "What's this for?"

"No reason," he beamed. He never just smiled - smile doesn't encompass the tidal wave of emotion induced in me by him... I LOVED THIS KID!!!

"Uh oh, we're loosin' him", grinned Triv...

It took a moment for the joke to sink in I was so emfatuated with the object of beauty infront of me... Hell it should be illegal to look that good!

"Hey Tay, where'd you get all those necklace things from?" asked Jamie, munching on his compressed bread, liberally covered with fish paste.

"Huh? Oh," he grinned. "I dunno... I kinda bought one a few years ago, and just kept buyin' them... Kinda dumb I spose..." he said, going suddenly shy.

"I think they're cool," smiled Triv

"And they actually have a use, too," I grined. Tay raised his eyebrows.

I looped a finger through the black cords and gently pulled Tay on top of me. His intregued look collapsed into a broad grin just as our lips met.

As our tongues danced together, I opened my eyes to see Tony quickly look away, and then glance back. I smiled inwardly and continued exploring Tay's mouth - the taste of him combined with his scent and the sense of security provided by his embracing arms acting like a drug - I was a TayAddict and well and truely hooked - GIMME ANOTHER HIT!

"Are you two going to have ANYTHING for lunch, or are you just gonna keep on chomping on each other?"

"I spose we'd better have something... What you got in there, Spidey?"

Tony was sat with his back to us now, stairing aimlessly into the cloudy sky.

"Tony?" Still no response. I got up and placed my hand on his shoulder. He jumped as I touched him and spun round, a slightly panicked look about him.

"Woah - easy, spider!" I grinned. He looked at me and smiled weakly at the admittedly rather poor pun. "Well? Whatcha got?"

He sighed and unclipped the top of the rucksack. "Umm - Jamie? You want any more fish paste?"

Zac leapt out of the taxi and marched directly towards the Queen's hospital, Burton, dragging Gareth behind him. As he approached the door, a small group of Hansonites descended upon him, waving albums and tee-shirts in his face in a flawed attempt to get his autograph. Zac, unwaivering in his "mission", continued his path directly to the hospital's lobby. Then it twigged. How the fuck did they know he'd be here? HOW COULD THEY DO THAT WHEN HIS BROTHER WAS HALF DEAD?!

Zac stopped abruptly, and spun round. "Just fuck off, will ya? Jesus, don't you guys got ANY respect?" He then did another about face and continued his march, leaving a stunned group of fans standing in a huddle, silent except for the sound of a single one of them beginning to cry. They turned towards Gareth.

"Ohhhhh no - don't look at me!" he said, the prospect of dealing with just a handful of fans being slightly daunting to say the least.

He jogged for a moment to catch up with Zac, who had his teeth firmly gritted, the muscles flexing around his jaw. Gareth opened his mouth to ask if Zac was OK, but promptly shut it again. This was not a good time...

The speed of Zac's approach barely gave the automatic doors enough time to open wide enough to take Zac's not particularly wide form as he strode through them and up to the reception desk, which was one of those raised types that was supposed to make you feel inferior. Zac's chin barely cleared the top of it, but due to the mood he was in even if just the top of his head had been visible he was not going to take any amount of crap from the standard issue bimbo who was sat, stereotypically filing her nails.

"Where's Isaac Hanson?" asked Zac.

"Could I have your name please?"

"Zac Hanson. WHERE'S IKE?"

"He's on Ward 11, but I'm afraid he's not accepting visit...." The receptionists voice faded away as Zac legged it up the corridor towards the lifts, Gareth still in tow. He hammered the call button on both lifts and stood back, impatiently running his fingers through his hair. Many laborious seconds ticked by. No lift. Zac hammered the call buttons even harder, but to no avail. He exhaled in exhasperation and legged it towards the stairs, hearing the 'ding' of the lift as he was about half way up the first flight.

Five corridors and three sets of stairs later, the two blonde lads burst through the doors to Ward 11, trainers squeaking on the sterile lino floor as the "brakes" were applied, quite startling the duty nurse, who happened to be a youngish guy. Zac, fully expecting to whinge at a female nurse, was caught off guard by this and so asked in a civilised manner. The nurse smiled and pointed Zac through into the ward itself and to a bed right at the far end.

As Zac and Gareth walked down towards the bed, Ike sat up and waved enthusiastically at them, the clear plastic tube that was feeding his intravenus drip leaping around skipping-rope style. The look of concern that had clouded Zac's mischevous face all day melted into a broad grin as he ran up to his older brother, the two hugging tightly.

Gareth sidled up behind them, and was surprised when Ike motioned him to give him a hug too. Gareth too was relieved that Ike was looking in such good spirits - it would have been painful to see the usually exhuberant Zac so troubled.

As Ike and Gareth broke the hug, Zac jumped up on to Ike's bed, swinging his legs. "Sooo, what happened to you?"

"I died."

"Yeah, right..."

"No shit, man! Mr. Jaykes said he couldn't feel a pulse when he pulled me out the river! I was really dead!"

"Woah... So what's it like to be... you know... dead?"

"It's kinda cool... Like you're you, but you're not you at the same time... Bit like being drunk but waaaay better! Very lonely, though."

"Did you see God?"

"No... But I saw Grandma."

"Really? COOL!"

"She told me to go home! Said it wasn't my time or something, and that I had to go back and look after my dumbass little brother before he went and fucked himself to death..."

"Ya know, if you weren't an invalid I'd have you for that..."

"You'd have trouble picking a fight with a daisy..." Grinned Ike, enjoying the "protection" his hospitalised state afforded him.

"So how's the old NHS treating you, Ike?" asked Gareth, seeing that Zac was going to get them kicked out if this carried on for much longer.

"Weeeel," said Ike, putting on his thick southener accent, "they dun give a dang fine bed, they have!" He picked up the control from his bedside table and began doing a Homer Simpson style "bed goes up, bed goes down" demonstration, much to their amusement.

"Pillow humping has to be the best," argued Jamie.

"Hell no! In your bedroom, starkers, legs spread, on your back. Can't beat it!" Grinned Triv. During our walk, the conversation had naturally degenerated to the lowest common denominator of the group: Sex - specifically masturbatory techniques.

"I bet Taylor pillow-humps! All _INTELLIGENT_ people pillow-hump."

"Bollocks! Pillow-humping is for people who can't co-ordinate the stroaking of their meat with the caressing of the rest of their bodies! It's the looser's way out!"

"Only one way to settle this," smiled Jamie. "Tay - do you wank or hump?"

"Well," smiled Tay, looking all embarassed again, "I used to jer... ummm, 'wank'..."

"HA! See? Screw you, you ginger tosser!"

"BUT," yelled Tay over the flurry of meaningless insults being shuttled back and forth between Jamie and Triv. They fell into an anticpatory silence.

"That was a loooong time ago... I found pillow-humping feels so much better, especially when you've already cum once in your jockeys and the head can, like, slip around easier..."

Just the thought of Tay shooting a load into his tight whites sent my dick skywards, the loose jogger-bottoms I was wearing doing little (if anything at all) to conceal it.

Jamie grinned broadly. "I ain't going to say a word, Mr. Trivett. I really don't take pleasure in seeing my lover being proved a complete and total fool... Aww fuck it - who am I tryin' to kid? NAH NA NAH NA NAAAAAAH NAH! Told you so!" And with that, he took off his rucksack and chucked it at Triv, then legged it off down the footpath.

"Come here, you little fuckwit!" Yelled triv, shedding his ownbackpack and legging it after him. Tay and I grinned at each other, happy to see another pair of lads well on the way towards what seemed like a truely deep relationship like our own.

"I guess we may as well have a rest while those two run it off," I suggested, relaxing my aching shoulders to allow the pack to fall to the ground. Tay did the same, and once again reveled in the near weightless feeling you get.

"Feels like you're on the moon!" he grinned, doing his slow motion jump he'd had to practise for the MMMBop video...

"Do you wanna hear one of the worst jokes I've ever heard in my life?"

"I get the feeling I'm gonna hear it anyway," he grinned.

"What d'you do when you see a spaceman?"

"Ummmm... Call NASA?"

"You park your car, man..."

For the first time that day, Tony truely laughed. Seeing as his dad was of Manx origin, the pun on the accent immediately struck home. Tay just looked confused. Now as any good comedian will know, all comedy is lost the minute that it is explained, but the poor guy didn't have a hope in hell's chance of fathoming one of the country's slightly more bizarre dialects...

After this, Tony seemed much more at ease with us than it seemed he had been that morning: He'd been either an appreciable distance infront or behind us, but never really walking with the group.

Tay dug three cartons of apple juice out of his rucksack and passed one to both me and Tony, Tay sitting between my legs, resting his head on my upper chest. This was not the best of arrangements as the slight breeze was quite successful in blowing strands of his whispy blonde hair into my mouth along with the straw for the apple juice...

The conversation lulled and Tay began to rest more heavily on my chest, his eyelids gradually becoming heavier as I ran my fingers through his hair.

"Can I ask you guys something?"

"No - absolutely not!" I grinned.

"How did you know you were gay?"

This was rather unexpected - Tony seemed rather skittish about this whole sexuality thing, so for him to initiate a conversation about it caught our attention quite successfully.

"I just knew. Not really the kinda answer you want, I know, but I just knew."

"Oh... When did you know?"

"Heh - seems like forever... I spose I were around five - I can always remember wanting to see the other boys' willies in the changing rooms..."

"Tay?"

"This feels like 'Sixty Minutes'! I guess I was like Dean... You have to remember that I've been homeschooled all my life - hell I wish I'd been put somewhere like this... I don't know really - I think Dean's 'I just knew' sums it up quite well..."

Tay opened his eyes and looked at Spider. "Why ask?"

"Uh... Don't laugh, will ya?"

"'Course not..."

"I dunno how I feel about girls and lads... I mean I like girls a LOT, but without realising it I seem to think about lads a whole lot too... Come to think about it I reckon I think about them more on the spur of the moment than I do girls... I check guys out more, ya know?"

"So?"

Tony was starting to get frustrated with what he thought was our flippant, blazee attitude.

"How can you just say 'So?' like that?? It may not be a big fuckin' deal to you but it friggin' well is to me! I mean I ain't got anythin' against you guys, but you just seem so comfortable with it!"

"So what makes you UNcomfortable about thinking that you may like guys as well as girls?" I asked, determined to get to the root of Tony's dilemma.

"It ain't right! I mean, if God wanted gays, he'd have made Adam and Alan!!"

"Hey Dean, how about you be Adam and I'll be the apple - BITE ME!"

I desperately tried not to smile at Tay as I answered Tony.

"Look, if I'm gonna roast in hell and damnation for eternity simply because I like lads rather than girls, I'm afraid I'm gonna fry!"

"Could I have a side order of salad with that?"

I clamped my hand tightly over Tay's mouth and continued. "If you're a God type bloke like me, then you may as well look at it this way: the guy granted me the gift of life, and with it he gave me membership to a very exclusive club that only 10% of the population are in... He knows I'm gay: in fact it was probably him that made me like this! I spose I should be thanking him more for allowing me to have such a handsome boyfriend..." Tay promptly licked the palm of the hand that was clamped over his mouth, making me jump.

"Yeah, I spose so..."

"Who do you fear more - God or your dad? Quickly - without thinking!" burst out Tay.

Tony stuttered for a moment, then answered "My dad..."

"Was the 'Adam and Alan' line one of his?"

"Yeah..."

"In that case I'm willing to wager that the main reason you don't like the feelings you're having is because you think your dad'll beat the crap outta you if he found out."

Initially, Tony looked outraged by the very concept, but all too soon as he thought it through, he realised Tay was right. He sighed. "I reckon he'd disown me. Kick me out the house. Never speak to me again..."

"Hang on a second... What exactly do you feel? I mean is it fear of your dad, or fear more that YOU've let him down?" I was struggling to word the subtle differences between the two. "I mean - do you feel guilty about it? You know - thinking about lads..."

"It's just... Just... Well it feels so friggin' weird..."

"I seem to recall someone writing a song about that," I grinned. Tony visibly paused as he tried to recall the lyrics, suddenly linking them with Tay's sexuality and how he must really feel. It was if a light had been switched on, laying what were dark, indistinguishable emotions bare and tangable.

"Shit, you're right, man! Damnit I'd never realised that's what you were on about! Cool! Jesus I'm thick..."

"I ain't gonna say a word..."

"DIE, LIDSTER!!" he yelled, racing headlong for me and Tay with an inane grin on his face. We could do nothing but brace for the impact as Spider sent us flying back onto the grass in one huge, giggling heap - his inhibitions about us suddenly vapourising along with his moody, withdrawn attitude.


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