Randy leaned back against the hotel head board and flipped through the channels, the television on mute, his cell pressed against his ear. With the curtains pulled and the lights out, his boxers and t-shirt seemed to glow in the light from the screen.

He listened to the sound of rushing water over the connection and heard Gale splashing around. Gale murmured something about being too hot, then too cold, then just right, but it was hard to hear him over the background noise of the bathtub filling. He waited until Gale shut the tap off, and only the gentle swish of water and Gale's breathing remained.

"There's just a bunch of crap on the television," Randy said, stopping on a news channel and tossing the remote away.

"It's Sunday; you could watch us fuck later."

Randy made an appropriate noise to indicate that the comment was vaguely funny. Gale splashed around in the background and Randy could just imagine how much water was getting all over the bathroom floor.

"I'm going to use this green bath oil stuff, okay?" Gale asked.

"Yeah." Randy reached for the remote again and started flipping again. "Just try not to get it all over the floor. It's a falling hazard."

Gale snorted.

"It is."

They were silent together again and Randy scooted down on the bed, heaping pillows behind his back to prop himself up. He missed Gale. "I'm bored. Entertain me."

"Hmm," Gale paused for a long moment and then sang softly, "Rubber duckie, you're the one. You make bath-time lots of fun."

Randy rolled over on his side and shoved a pillow between his knees.

"Rubber duckie, you're the one for meeeee."

Randy remained silent listening to the sound of the tap dripping across the country.

Gale said seriously, "Hold the applause, please. I'm not a rock star and I don't play one on T.V.--"

Randy rubbed his hands over his eyes and smiled. Gale was such a fucking goof.

"I was looking at some pictures from the signing today." Gale splashed a little more.

"On the internet?"

"Yeah."

Randy sighed. He hated looking at stuff about himself on the internet, but Gale was the worst at vanity searches. He was always looking them all up, even Thea and Michelle, just to see what was being said out there. Randy remembered how amused Gale had been to find that some people wrote explicit stories about them; many of them made Gale out to be very nearly retarded--and made Randy out to be evil. Very odd.

"Don't act all pissy. They didn't say that you were an asshole or anything. They just posted pictures and talked about how adorable you are."

"Fuck," Randy shook his head and cradled the pillows closer. "They fucking freak me out."

"What? You're a little fanboy, yourself, you know. I remember a few years ago someone I know was obsessed with J.T. Le--"

"Shut up."

Gale laughed and said, "Give it up. You're on the fanboy bus and you know it."

"I never told J.T. Leroy that I had over three hundred photos of him on my computer on auto-rotation."

"No, but you wrote him a creepy ass letter about drinking absinthe."

Randy ran a hand over his face and fought a blush. "Fuck you. Stop it."

"You did! I've read it. And it's on the internet--because you told him that he could post it. Egotist."

"I said fuck you."

"Speaking of fucking, how's Peter?"

"I'm failing to see the segue there, but he's fine. Why?"

"I dunno. You looked pretty cozy is all."

Randy rolled his eyes. Gale had a bizarre, deep seated jealousy of Peter. Randy thought it had something to do with the fact that he and Peter had fucked a few times during Season Two, when things with Gale had gotten complicated. The no-fucking pact turned out to be for shit. "Well, we look so cozy because we fucked for hours before the signing."

Gale was silent.

"In fact, he's right here next to me totally naked and I'm going to blow him after I get off the phone with you. Then maybe rim him until he comes--then fuck him again."

Gale didn't say anything and Randy clearly heard the drip, drip, drip of the tap. He didn't know why he was being such a prick.

"Gale--it was twice. Two years ago. Chill the fuck out."

Gale made a noncommittal noise. Randy heard the glurg of the drain opening and the slosh of water indicating that Gale had stood up.

"I hate this," Randy said. "You're all the way across the country and I'm here in this horrible hotel room with nothing on the television. It makes me grumpy."

He heard the click and clack of the cupboard opening and closing, then the rush of towel over skin as Gale dried off.

Still silent.

"I'm sorry I was being a prick."

Gale hummed. "S'okay. I fucked an ex-girlfriend last night. So we're even."

Randy's stomach actually clenched for a moment and then he felt even worse that he'd been such a jerk about Peter. "Asshole."

Gale laughed. "Did you get any cool gifts?"

Randy looked at the pile of junk in the corner. "Depends on your definition of cool. Someone gave me a needlepoint of Justin and Brian kissing."

"Ahhh. Anything you aren't going to throw away or give to your grandma?"

Randy laughed. "Well, there are a few things, I guess. I'll show you when I get home. Speaking of home, did you decide what you want to do next season as far as housing?"

"I guess we'll continue as is--" Gale sighed. "I don't understand why this has to be so fucking hard. Why don't people understand that who we sleep with isn't any of their business?"

"Because they're freaks? Because today, at the signing, this woman asked me if you got hard while making out with me? Because no one understands boundaries any more?"

Gale chuckled. "I can ask my good friend, President Bush, if he can make a Constitutional Amendment about that. Oh, wait, that'd actually be protecting the rights of the individual. Never mind. I guess he wouldn't go for it."

Randy flipped onto his back again and let his hand trail down to finger the waistband of his boxers.

"Gale?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to fuck me?"

"Sure."

Randy rolled his eyes. "No, really. Do you want to fuck me?"

"I always want to fuck you. You're the one who bent me for good, remember? You're too sexy. Maybe I should talk to my friend, George, about a Constitutional Amendment to ban your sexiness. It is a national hazard."

"Do you like my voice?"

Gale banged around in the background. "Christ! I nearly fell."

"I told you about the bath oil. You never listen to me."

"I always listen to you." Gale's breathing seemed a little louder. "And, yeah, I like your voice. Why? Are you planning on fucking me over the phone lines?"

"Maybe."

Gale hummed happily. "Well, you better do it before my good buddy, Bush, bans gay phone sex. Only married heterosexuals should be allowed to have phone sex, you know."

Randy ignored the comments and asked, "Are you in the bed?"

"No."

"Get in the bed."

Randy heard Gale's footsteps padding against the hardwood floor of the Toronto apartment. He let his hand dip below the waistband of his boxers and ran his knuckles down the length of his hardening cock. Gale's footsteps went on and on. Randy was just starting to wonder when he heard the snick of the refrigerator opening.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting something to drink."

"I thought we were going to have phone sex."

"We are." Gale gulped some liquid.

Randy withdrew his hand, sitting up and saying, "Christ, Gale! Peter is just down the hall you know!"

"I thought he was in bed with you and you were going to blow him, rim him then fuck him." Gale drank some more and Randy heard the refrigerator door open and close again.

"Gale?"

"Yeah?"

"I--" Randy felt stupid; they'd only been apart for a week. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too. So, okay, I'm heading for the bedroom now." Gale's steps quickened. "I'm in the bedroom. I'm still naked--"

"Wish I'd known that when you were getting into the fridge. It's a better visual."

"--and I'm getting into bed."

Randy heard the box springs creak as Gale's weight shifted around on the bed.

"Okay. Fuck me, now."

Randy laughed. "No foreplay?"

"Nah, just fuck me."

"Okay, so, um--" Randy blushed. He'd never done this before.

"You're here with me and I've got my eyes closed because we're playing a game. You close your eyes, too."

Randy closed his eyes and imagined Gale in bed, wet hair clinging to his forehead, lips open, cock arching up over his stomach. He choked on a whimper as heat coiled in his gut.

Gale continued, voice breathless, "So I'm between your legs and I've got our dicks in my hand, and I'm--"

Randy shoved his hand into his boxers, imagined Gale's cock hard against his own, velvet-soft skin on velvet-soft skin.

"--jerking us both off."

"Okay, yeah--" Randy licked his lips and shifted his hips, moving his hand faster, running his thumb over the head.

"But, I want you to fuck me--" Gale's voice was broken the way it always was when he really wanted it. "Randy, fuck this. Come home."

Randy kept his hand steady, his hips thrusting into it, increasing the friction. "Don't stop yet. Come on, let's get there."

"You tell me--" Gale was panting "--now."

"I--" Randy whimpered. Imagining Gale on the other end of the line, hand on his cock, was about to send him over. He wasn't going to last. "You move up over me and I want you to ride--" The rush zipped through him quickly and he didn't finish his sentence. "Oh, fuck."

Come shot over his hand and soaked into his t-shirt and boxers. His ears were ringing and he might have missed the sound of Gale's orgasm if he wasn't completely tuned in to all of Gale's sex noises.

Randy wiped a hand over his eyes and then struggled back onto the heap of pillows. It wasn't the best orgasm ever, but it would do--until he got home.

"We're too easy," Gale laughed.

"Yeah. Maybe your friend, George, can make it unconstitutional to come too soon."

"But that'd only apply to the heterosexuals, 'cause fags can't fuck."

"Right." Randy ran a hand through his hair before sitting up and pulling his boxers off, throwing them across the room. He considered his t-shirt but didn't want to take the phone from his ear yet. He leaned back again and said, "I'll be home in two days."

"Good."

"Gale?" He didn't really have anything to say, he just wanted to hear Gale's voice some more.

"Yeah?"

Randy smiled. "There's nothing to watch on tv. Entertain me."

"Hmm." Gale paused, as though thinking. "Rubber duckie, you're the one--"



The End