"Because," she sighed and tugged on his arm, pulling him toward the doors. "We were invited and I promised we'd go."

"But why?"

"Because, Pacey, he called and said everyone at the party was going to be from his fiancée's side and he wanted a familiar face or two."

"Why do they have to be our faces?"

"Pacey." She stopped walking and faced him, her hands on her hips, her expression set. "We're going in. We were invited and we accepted…"

"You accepted. You go."

"And I look beautiful in this dress and seeing you in a tuxedo makes me want to fuck you right here on the front lawn."

"Well, all right then."

"But none of that's going to happen unless we go in there to that party, have a few drinks, be as nice as we possibly can to Drue, and have a good time."

"The last two are mutually exclusive."

"And if we don't do all of the above, I can safely say you could wear that tuxedo for the rest of the year and still remain celibate."

"Right." Pacey wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "Let's go make nice with evil incarnate."

"Evil incarnate is about to serve you free alcohol, a five course meal, and a night of dancing with your lovely wife. You should really thank him."

"I don't have to thank him for the fact that I'm getting laid though, right?"

"Not unless there's something about you and Drue that I need to know." She smiled up at him as they reached the door. She stopped walking and faced him, straightening his tie. "And remember that playing nice does not involve bringing up anything that might embarrass him. Or the size of his penis."

"Which was included in the first thing you mentioned not mentioning." Pacey smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. "I'll be on my best behavior."

"You'd better. I don't think you'd enjoy me kicking your ass."

"You don't?"

"Not while I'm wearing two-inch heels."

"Quite the crowd, Valentine." Pacey leaned against one of the columns that lined the huge patio, looking up at the stars spattered across the sky. "You weren't lying when you said you were marrying well."

"Whereas you were when you said you weren't married." Drue raised an eyebrow. "Now why would a straight man with a perfectly legitimate reason for being at a gay bar lie about his significant other?"

"Maybe because it was none of your business?" Pacey lifted his glass, swirling the amber liquid in crystal that no doubt cost more than his annual salary. "Did you think about that?"

"I've thought about a lot of things." Drue pushed off the column he was leaning against and walked over to Pacey, standing beside him just on the periphery of his personal space. "Most of 'em I can figure out. Most of 'em, I got answers for." He took a slow drink, his cool moderation the opposite of the alcoholic abandonment from several months before. "The only thing I've thought about that I can't quite figure out is how I ended up in that bathroom with your dick up my ass."

The music inside changed and Drue took a step back, turning at the sound of his name. His fiancée stood in the wide open archway, tilting her head toward the dance floor. "Drue? Come dance with me."

He gave Pacey one last parting glance before heading back inside. Pacey shook his head and closed his eyes, resting his head on the cool marble. He was about to take another sip from his glass when he heard Joey's voice.

"Pacey!" She waved at him from further down on the patio, signaling for him to join her. He pushed away from his quiet corner reluctantly and headed in her direction, his steps slowing as he realized she wasn't alone.

He slid his hand around her waist, pressing warmth against the bare skin of her back. His voice was whiskey smooth as he tilted his head toward her companion. "Dawson."

"Pacey." He smiled in return and held out his hand to shake, dropping it as he realized Pacey had no intention of bringing his hand away from Joey or setting down his drink. "Long time no see."

"I wasn't aware you were good friends with Valentine, Dawson."

"I'm not." Dawson shrugged. "It was a strange thing, but I guess the bride's father met my mom back in Capeside at the restaurant. They got to talking, one thing led to another…"

"And now you're at Drue's wedding rehearsal shebang." Pacey cocked an eyebrow. "Definitely strange. You here alone?"

"Yeah. I'm just in town for the weekend."

"Really? What for?" Pacey's fingers scratched lightly at Joey's back and she purred softly. "I mean, aside from this shindig?"

"Work." Dawson looked over at Joey and smiled, raising his drink. "And pleasure."

Pacey lifted his glass as well. "I'm always up for pleasure."

Drue waited until the song started before slipping out of the room, heading down the darkened hallway that led to the business offices. The plush carpet seemed to pull at his feet, trying to mire him down in its thickness. He moved past the public restrooms and turned down a separate hall, one less opulent.

He slid his key into the lock, wanting the sanctity of his office when he felt something or someone behind him in the darkness. Hot. Wet. Pressure on his neck just above his collar. Teeth sinking into his flesh, hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to bruise or break skin.

He rested on the door, feeling a powerful leg slip between his and part them, the taut thigh muscle pressing up against him. The hard pulse of a cock seemed to brand his ass, pushing into it, thrusting against it. "Open the door."

His hands shook as he turned the key, pushing the door open and moving inside quickly, wanting distance. Needing it. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Pacey picked up a paperweight that sat near the edge of the desk, fingering the cool metal. "What you wanted, right, Drue? I mean, wasn't that the whole point of our being invited to this little intimate gathering? Joey and Dawson and me all in one big group?"

"I needed some guests to fill out my side of the roster."

"You needed me to fuck you again."

"No." Drue shook his head. "It happened once. We were both drunk, both a little out of our minds."

"Yeah?" Pacey smirked and set the paperweight down, pushing a spot clear on Drue's desk and settling on it.

"Yes."

"Come here."

He moved as if controlled, stepping closer to the low, harsh, hungry voice. Desire was alive in his eyes; he could feel it burning along his spine, through his cock, propelling him forward. He stopped just in front of Pacey, his breath wary on his lips.

Pacey's hand reached out, trailing over the front of Drue's slacks. They were an excellent cut, the best money could buy. But it did nothing to hide the fact that his cock raged as if out of control. Pacey's hand smoothed over it and Drue's mouth opened in a silent moan, his body falling forward with longing. "You still want to fuck me, Drue?"

His step back was as involuntary as the ones forward had been. Without a word, Drue whipped around and cut across the office, wrenching open the bathroom door. He pulled it shut behind him and slumped against it, his breathing ragged. His chest heaved as if he'd been running a marathon and his body felt weak.

He could hear Pacey moving, a wild animal on the other side of the door. His heart was in his throat, his life flashing before him in strange, disjointed snippets. His fiancée, his family, her family were all down the hall expecting him back, waiting for him to play the perfect bridegroom. Turning to face the door, Drue pressed his face to the cool wood, pressed his cock to it.

The temptation to unlock the door and let the bar scene replay in something other than his mind's eye was almost overpowering. Too many temptations warred within him. Seeing Pacey's hand casually sweep his job aside had brought visions of being bent over the desk, sprawled out across it with his hands gripping the edges while Pacey thrust into him from behind.

He groaned and bounced his head off the door, silently reminding himself that he was trying to will his erection away, not have the evidence of it splattered across the front of his expensive slacks. He heard the outside door open but nothing more. Carpeting hid footsteps, hid indiscretions.

Moving away from the door, he splashed cold water on his face and opened the medicine cabinet, pulling out his reserve bottle of scotch and downing a healthy dose of it. Setting it back gently on its perch, he closed the mirror and stared at himself, using his fingers to fix his hair.

He could do this. He'd just walk back out as if nothing was wrong. And, so long as Pacey wasn't in his office, he'd be just fine.

"I'll take a cab, Joey."

"Don't be ridiculous, Dawson. We can drop you. Can't we, Pace?"

"Sure." Pacey smiled, the emotion not reaching his eyes. "In fact, with the wedding tomorrow, why don't you just grab your stuff at the hotel and stay with us? We've got plenty of room."

"No. I can't." Dawson shook his head. "Thanks for the offer, though. I've got some business calls in the morning and they've got my number."

"Well, why don't we do this?" Joey suggested, waiting until Dawson had climbed in the car and Pacey had shut the door behind her. When he climbed in the driver's seat, Joey was half-turned, facing Dawson. "I've got to cut out of the wedding early, since I have a business dinner that night, so Pacey and I were going to take two cars. Why don't I meet you in the morning after your calls, we'll go to breakfast, play a little catch-up, and you can ride with me?" She looked over at her husband. "Pace?"

He shrugged. "Sure. Sounds good. I'm sure you guys have lots to talk about." He started the car and nosed out onto the road. "Where am I headed?"

Dawson gave directions and Pacey headed toward the center of town. Pulling into the parking lot of the hotel, Joey laughed softly. "This is perfect, Dawson! This is the hotel my dinner is at tomorrow night. Unless you want to stay late at the wedding, I can give you a lift back as well."

"Great. Seems to be my lucky night. I was worried I wasn't going to know anyone other than Drue." Dawson laughed. "And the last thing I wanted to do was spend the night talking with him."

Joey climbed out of the car along with him, giving him a hug before he headed toward the doors. "What time tomorrow?"

"Why don't you come at ten? I'll order room service."

"You remember what I like?"

"Anything but blueberry pancakes?" He smiled and waved, leaning down to make sure he included Pacey. "See you tomorrow, Jo. Night, Pace."

"Night." Joey shivered and slid back into the car, shutting her door and reaching over to turn the heat up. "It's cold out there."

"I was on my best behavior tonight," Pacey reminded her with a sly smile. "Give me a half hour to get us home and I promise I'll warm you right up."

He wove through the halls as he had the night before, his dress shoes practically sliding on the carpet. He could hear the hustle and bustle around him, smiling easily at the people scurrying from room to room. Obviously the hired help as they lugged and carried, dressed in somber and insignificant gray.

The sound of deal making drifted down to him, warring with the sound on the right of giggles, worries and hair spray. He turned left, wondering if he'd be surprised by what he found.

The door was open. There was no sound of laughter or happiness. No sound of company. He shut the door behind him, watching while the large chair swiveled around. Drue sat in it, leaning back slightly, his eyes closed. "I'm getting married in two hours."

"I received the invitation."

"You didn't receive one for this."

"No." Pacey locked the door, noting the smoked, textured glass that made it appear that the room was empty. "But I heard I was on the guest list."

"Why are you doing this, Pacey?" He stood up, unwilling to surrender any advantage, no matter how illusory. "What can you possibly gain from it?"

"You can't believe I just want to fuck you, Drue?"

"Honestly? No." Drue shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "As much as I think you get off on dominating me, I don't think I've got anything to do with it. And to be honest, I don't think you're all that hot to have your cock in any guy's ass."

"So why did I fuck you in the men's room of a gay bar?"

"For the same reason you're here now." Drue moved out from behind his desk and sat on the edge of it in the same place Pacey had occupied the night before. "You're here because you're scared to death that Joey's fucking Dawson or someone and you want to have something to cripple her if she tried to leave you or fuck you over." He watched Pacey's face, his eyebrows rising as it registered no emotion. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"Analyze it all you want, Drue, if that makes you feel better." Pacey came closer, unfastening his tie and pulling it over his head. He dropped it on the visitor's chair and started unbuttoning his dress shirt. "But what it all really comes down to is why you want this so bad. Why you want it badly enough to run from it. Why you're willing to risk everything." He gestured around the room briefly before he finished unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it off and laying it across the arm of the chair. "To have me fuck you."

Drue's tongue licked his parted lips, his involuntary responses betraying him. Pacey pulled off his undershirt and moved up to Drue, pinning him to the desk. Drue's teeth snapped together and he swallowed hard, watching Pacey's muscles move beneath his tanned skin. His hand hovered over Pacey's chest, the slight brush of hair tickling his palm.

"You want to touch me, Drue?"

His voice rolled languidly down Drue's spine, the air in the room thick and hot, parching his throat. His body shuddered or shivered, he wasn't sure which as he forced himself not to move, not to give in.

Pacey brushed Drue's hand away, too late to change his mind and let his fingertips brush the pebbled nipple that lay darkly on the lighter skin. His long fingers unbuttoned and unhooked, separated fabric from fabric, material from skin. He pushed the crisp, white shirt over Drue's shoulders and let it fall, smirking as Drue caught it with trembling hands and hung it over the back of a nearby chair, putting distance between the two of them.

"What would your fiancée do, Drue, if she knew what was happening in here?" He closed the gap, grabbing Drue's shoulders and spinning him around, holding him against the wall. His hand snaked around Drue's waist and rubbed over his cock, imitating his movements of the night before. He could feel Drue's body respond, swell against the pressure. "If she knew you were hard, wanting more than my hand on you?"

Naked skin on naked skin as he pressed closer, pressed back, inhaling the scent emanating off of Pacey. It was raw and animal, untamed. It was lust, that he could feel burning in his eyes as he turned around, watching as Pacey moved away and unhooked his belt, sliding the zipper down, pulling his cock free of his boxers, holding it loosely.

"Put your mouth on me, Drue."

Drue sank to his knees, his mouth in motion from the second his lips opened over the smooth tip. Thick and hard against his tight lips, pressing down with exquisite weight on his tongue. He reached up and pulled on Pacey's slacks, sending them tumbling to the floor as he sought out skin, needing contact, needing to feel it warm under his hands as his dark head moved, gliding along the length of Pacey's shaft.

Pacey grunted softly, his head tilted back, his legs braced wide apart. His hands found Drue's hair and he gripped it, letting it fall through his fingers, tugging lightly as Drue steadied himself on Pacey's rigid stance.

Gasping, Drue pulled back, breathing heavily as he looked up at Pacey, supplication in his eyes. Pacey stepped back and waited as Drue rose to his feet, not quite steady. His lips were still parted, everything that had been unspoken in the bar now between them. Pacey's eyes hardened and he jerked Drue to him, mouth open, mouth hungry.

Drue's hands scrambled at his waist, unfastening his pants as Pacey's tongue plundered his mouth, taking heat and taste and feeling from him, sucking on his tongue until he couldn't control his body any more, unable to keep from thrusting into Pacey's hard cock, feeling it slide against his own, encased in silk boxers.

Pacey practically shoved him away, eyes roaming over Drue's bruised lips, swollen from the pressure of his kiss. Grabbing his arm, he forced Drue against the desk and held him there, not touching him, simply standing behind him for a long moment before his hands skimmed the waist of Drue's boxers and pushed them down to the floor.

"I could see it in your eyes last night, Drue." Pacey's voice was cool and hot all at once, deep and promising. "Your eyes on this desk, just waiting for me to bend you over it. It's what you wanted," his hips jerked forward and Drue grasped the desk to keep from falling face down onto it. "Isn't it?"

Drue's back arched, his ass stroking Pacey's cock with the slight movement. "Yes."

"Bent over. Face down. Hanging on for dear life while I thrust my cock in you. That's what you want, isn't it, Drue?"

"Yes." He could feel the moisture pooling against the grain of the wood, leaving a trail of evidence, as he held his own against Pacey's thrusting. "Yes."

"No." Pacey pulled away, turning Drue again, like a puppet on a string. "You've wanted this for so long, Drue." He stroked his face, no emotion in his eyes, something cool in his voice. "I think you deserve to watch me fuck you."

He was against the desk again, Pacey's body between his legs as he pushed him higher, feeling the wooden edge cut into his skin. Drue lifted himself in self defense, his legs on either side of Pacey's, their cocks touching.

Drue leaned back and forced a drawer open, pulling out a tube and silver packet, watching as Pacey slipped the condom on, dropping the wrapper on Drue's stomach. Thick and clear yet creamy, Pacey smoothed the lubrication on his cock, coating it before pressing a finger to Drue's skin, letting it slide slowly down until it rested against the tight muscle. The pressing sensation increased, pushing and pushing until his body opened, the cool gel coating the fires that burned white hot on the surface of his flesh.

Pacey eased forward, the tip of his cock replacing his finger, slowly beginning to push on the aperture, parting puckered flesh slowly. Drue lay before him, watching cool blue eyes as they stared down at him, watching with deliberate fascination as Drue curved his hand around his cock and slowly began to stroke.

Hooking his arms under Drue's knees, Pacey lifted him, held him. He thrust slowly, his rhythm matching Drue's, more assured than the hand sliding down smooth skin. Pacey's muscles tightened with every stroke, powering his thrusts with his hips and buttocks, pushing into Drue methodically, slowly.

Drue's eyes were glazed, half closed as he ran his thumb over the tip of his cock, moisture leaking along his skin as his body threatened to succumb to the feel of Pacey's cock, hard inside him, deep inside him. "What if she found us, Drue? What if she walked in and saw you like this, saw me fucking you the way you fuck her?"

"Don't care," Drue half-gasped as Pacey's strokes began to gather speed, momentum driving him in deeper. "Fuck her."

"Fuck her?" Pacey slammed into him, burying himself to the hilt, surrounded by constricting muscle.

"Fuck her. Fuck you. Just fuck me." He was panting now, his hand moving over his own cock with painful speed, keeping up with Pacey's ever-increasing thrusts. "You married for love, Pacey. Not me."

This time it was almost a cry of disappointment as Pacey stopped moving and released Drue's legs. He felt them close around him, wrap around his thighs as he grasped Drue's cock, beginning again. In the longest short time of his life, Drue was back where he'd been just moments before, riding the crest of an orgasm that threatened to crash over him. His body throbbed and ached with the feel of Pacey inside him, Pacey around him.

He wrapped his hand around Pacey's and helped him stroke his cock, knowing he wouldn't last much longer. He wanted this, wanted this again and again. Wanted to feel like he couldn't take any more, that he couldn't hold back. Wanted to be pushed, wanted to be told. Wondered if his eyes told Pacey that being pinned in this position, submissive and supine, made his cock harder, made him have to fight that much harder not to come the second he touched him.

Pacey grunted and closed his eyes, pushing up into Drue. The rush of pulsing pushed Drue over the edge as well. Milky residue clung to his skin as he lay there, feeling Pacey keep pushing, slowing until he finally stopped.

Pacey pulled away and Drue just lay there, legs draped over the edge of the desk, hanging spent. He managed to drop to his feet as Pacey entered the bathroom and leaned there watching him as he slowly rebuilt himself, putting himself back together. When he was done, Drue moved past him to do the same, shivering at the sight of himself. Next time, he wanted to watch in the mirror, watch himself get fucked. Wanted to watch Pacey fuck him. He shook his head at the thought, at the rush of anticipation.

Coming out of the small room, he moved to the bar and poured himself a drink, noticing Pacey already had one. "There's a folder on the desk." He pulled his undershirt on and then his dress shirt, not looking at Pacey as he focused on the small buttons. "It's for you."

Pacey glanced at Drue as he tucked the shirt in then pulled on his jacket. He walked over to the desk and lifted the only manila folder from the dark green desk blotter. He opened it then looked back at Drue, raising an eyebrow.

"I was an investigative reporter, Pacey." He gestured to the office. "Until I agreed to marry into this. We both know why you're doing this." Moving over, he tapped the open file. "There's your reason."

Pictures. Dozens of them. Joey from every conceivable angle. Joey with her head thrown back in ecstasy that she never quite seemed to reach with him. Fingers and tongues and bodies woven together, frozen in time with the imperceptible click in the night.

Joey naked and clothed. Joey against walls and on beds, in her car and in their house. Joey in their bed, on their sheets, writhing in passion, her breasts bared, her legs spread as Jen's blonde hair shielded her busy tongue from Drue's prying eyes.

Pacey nodded and shut the folder. "What more do I owe you?"

"Once more." Drue shrugged, adjusting the lay of his coat. "I'll let you know when. And where." He glanced down at the desk. "And how."

Pacey nodded, switched the folder to his other hand and made his way out the door.