Hawaii

"I guess," he nods. "Whatever. Whatever's clever."

And I guess that's where my exposed breasts come in. Because we're back at the suite and Tony is ogling. In fact, he's been staring at me for no less than five minutes, before walking around to stare at my backside. Now I know I look good- for once, yes, I have confidence- but really this is overboard. I only look this good because I finally convinced Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb to allow me to choose my own outfit. Thankfully. So tonight's attire is a simple leather mini, torn fishnets, stiletto platforms that I already owned, and a pink leather corset that Benji and I love. Tony tried to veto it, but we won. Thank god.

He finishes pacing and smirks. "Wow."

"Yeah?" I chide. "That good?"

He nods. "V, you look like….Fuck. I don't even have words for it."

"She looks like sex on heels," Benji grins as he prances into the room. He's already dressed in his usual, predictable attire: Dickies, slashed up black DC Flag hoodie, and Creepers. Shockingly different from what he'd wear, say, on any other night. Please note sarcasm.

And for his part, Tony changed up his normal wardrobe ever so slightly: he's wearing black Dickies and no shirt. We've tried to tell him to put one on, but this appears to be a losing battle. Most things with Tony are a losing battle, I suppose.

"Are we ready, bitches?" Tony grins.

* * *

Working my way through the crowd to the DJ booth had proven to be no easy task. Everyone here at Black Raven tonight is pretty much- well, alright, totally!- here to see Benji. Oblivious to this fact, he's been working the tables like a pro. First there was VNV Nation, then Apop. He segued himself nicely into Covenant and The Icarus Line, and now he's prepping a little Wumpscut for "the kids". That's what he calls the crowd, "the kids". We've been debating this for the past ten minutes, and I seem to be getting nowhere. I still say that this crowd deserves more respect than to be termed children.

He smirks as he sets the next track into motion. "So you like?"

"I like," I smirk. "I never knew you had such an amazing-"

"-Appetite?" he taunts, emphasizing each syllable. "For music, that is."

Shaking my head, I gesture towards the bar. "You want anything?"

"Nah," he shakes his head and raises a bottle of water for me to see. "I'm working."

"I'm not," I smirk cruelly and leave him standing in the booth alone.

As I reach the bar and request my poison, the air fills with his familiar voice. He sounds giddy. "I don't normally do this shit, kids." There it is. Fucking kids again. "But a good friend of mine has requested that I toss out some love to his favorite bitch, yeah, I said bitch." He laughs and I already know I'll be slapping him hard later tonight. Very hard. I'll leave marks. "Here's some Joy Division, kids."

"Love Will Tear Us Apart."

That means that, well, I know what this means. But why didn't I notice he was here earlier? I glanced quickly around the club, and nothing. Nothing. Of course, there are easily three hundred people here. But the dance floor doesn't seem like a place I would find-

"You looking for someone?"

Yes, yes I am.

* * *

"I think I've found him," I smirk. He's standing at the bar, wearing the usual jeans and a t-shirt. Nothing fancy for Paul. He's always this way. Probably always will be this way. I grin stupidly. I think I love Paul, and I know I love Joy Division.

"So," he grins back, equally amused it seems. "You like the dedication?"

I shrug casually as I reach for my drink. "I'm your bitch now?" I pause to place money atop the bar, but Paul pushes my hand away.

He leaves the needed change and grabs my hand. "Let's blow this place," he winks.

"Can we do that?" I question. I expect to see Tony appear at any moment, screaming about tonight being "his turn" or some such nonsense. Chances are, he will do that. Chances are that he's watching from somewhere.

Paul smirks. "We're not leaving the building, Elvis. We're just relocating."

I nod. A little relocation never hurt anybody.

* * *

The bathroom is over air-conditioned and cold. The stalls are large and spacious, perfect for tonight's activities. Perfectly created for a twosome. Which is what we are. My back is pressed against the damp wooden door, and something about it reminds me of a gothic castle. For whatever reason. Maybe it's the music pumping through the overhead sound system. Accompanied by Benji's voice infrequently. Before it was Wumpscut and Covenant, now it's Icon of Coil. Maybe in a little while he'll finally find the time to play some Velvet Acid Christ, as I requested. Maybe not. Who knows. Who cares.

I certainly don't care, because as I said, my back is pressed to a damp wooden door and here I am, being fucked in the Ladies Room. It's not everyday that this happens. In fact, this has never happened to me before. I can't say I've ever fucked Paul in a public Ladies Room. But I can say it's a bit of a fantasy.

And reality seems to be better than fantasy right now.

"You okay?" he grunts, raising me up and scratching my back against the door.

In response, I simply scratched my nails across his back. Roughly. I know I've drawn blood. And I enjoy the thought of him bleeding from my affections. Because tonight, it's not about love. Tonight is about pain. The pain of a rough fuck. The pain of a rough fuck in a Ladies Room in some club. Yes. He's fucking me so hard it hurts. And I know I'm screaming. And fuck if I care. I don't care. All I care about right now is-

"Hey kids, open up!" Tony's voice wafts into the stall and interrupts our fucking.

"Fuck," Paul hisses as he withdraws and places my feet back on the floor. "Fuck you, Tone!"

He opens the stall door and there's a grinning Tony. Staring at my exposed chest. "I want to play too!"

"Go away, Tony," I spit annoyed. "I was about to cum and you fucked it up!"

Tony waves a finger in the air, as if to tsk me. "Ut ut ut," he grins happily. "I want to play too."

Am I slut for allowing Tony to join in? Fuck if I know. All I know if that I can't think straight. I don't really care who joins in at this point. Because I'm sitting on Paul's hard cock and the sounds of Assemblage 23 are wafting through the air. So fuck if I care if Tony sticks his cock in my ass. Or my face. Or wherever.

Right now, I just don't care.

"V?" I hear Paul's voice whispering softly in my ear. "V, you alright?"

I nod as Tony works himself inside my tight body. Two cocks and Assemblage 23. This must be heaven. Thank you, God. Thank you, Benji. Thank you, God and Benji.

"Tony," I hear Paul's voice as I realize I'm seeing black. "Tony, fuck off, something's wrong!"

* * *

"I didn't give her anything!" he's arguing, his voice very obviously adamant that this is not his fault. He sounds like a child as he denies any involvement.

Quickly, Benji joins in. "I didn't give her anything either."

Paul's voice is annoyed. "Would you two retards shut the fuck up? The bartender gave her a drink. I was sitting right there when she ordered it. I paid for it."

"Oh," is the audible response from the dynamic duo. Then silence and the sound of a car moving along the road at a steady pace. Yes. We are headed back to the hotel, no doubt. After all, they wouldn't take me to a hospital for passing out; and I can't imagine that they'd be arguing inside of an ambulance. Come to think of it, could three men even fit in the back of an ambulance with a gurney and EMTs?

"Where are we?" I offer, though I already know the answer.

"Headed back to the hotel," Benji responds quickly and he sounds disappointed. Oh yes. His big night. He was DJ Benjamino the Great now. Just great.

"Are you alright?" Paul questions and his peering brown eyes come into my view. His gaze is so amusing, I can't help but laugh. He frowns. "What's so funny?"

"You're looking at me like I'm dead."

Paul rolls his eyes. "Forgive me for worrying."

"I was worried too," Tony quickly adds, as though he wouldn't dare step out of my good graces. "V, I was so worried that I was beside myself and I could barely-"

"Shut up, Lover Boy," Paul growls, clearly angered by this. "You were trying to poke her while she was passing out!"

I raise an eyebrow. "Poke?"

"Fuck," Benji winks. "Apparently, as the story goes, you and Paul were boinking one another in the Ladies Room when Anthony here entered the picture and caused you to faint."

"I have that affect on the ladies," Tony boasted proudly.

I slowly sat up, realizing that I'm stretched across three laps and really have nowhere to go; I have to choose a boy. Quickly, I decide to place myself fully on Paul, and sit reclining against his chest. He grins at me, happily. "I guess you're feeling better?"

I nod.

"She didn't faint because of me, dude," Tony is sulking. "Seriously, she looked white as a ghost when I came into the stall and-"

"Assemblage 23," I add aloud, and three sets of confused eyes stare at me. I blush. "Assemblage 23 "Breath of Ghosts."

"What about it?" Benji stares at me, scrunching his nose up like he does when he's confused.

"It was playing when I blacked out!"

"Oh," Benji nods. "Yeah, I played that for you. You said you love that song!"

"I do."

"Then," he beams proudly, straightening in the confined space of the back seat. "After that, I played some Velvet Acid Christ!"

"And I missed it?" I pout, over-dramatically.

Benji's pierced lips turn to a pout that mirrors my own. "Yeah, sorry ‘bout that." He pauses, looking slightly saddened at the realization. Perhaps he had dedicated another song to me; unaware that I was blacked out in the Ladies Room. Either way, he recaptures himself quickly and grins. "Maybe next time I'll play them for you again!"

"How about next time we don't black out in the middle of…" Paul's voice trails off. He's realized what he was about to say, and he bit his tongue just in time. Good boy.

"Good idea," I yawn. Suddenly, I feel exhausted. I guess time has caught up to me, maybe even old age. God. Help me. Ugh.

"I'm tired too," Tony yawns in agreement. "I fucked two chicks in the Men's Room, and that shit is exhausting."

Paul, Benji and I glare at him.

In fact, I used Tony's little confession to bar him from my bed that evening. Not that any of the hotel beds were ‘mine', but a girl could delude herself for one evening. In fact, with three men and two beds, a girl could really enjoy herself. A lot. Especially when she hears two of the boys arguing over bedding down together. Yes.

"Such babies," Paul groans as he pulls a pillow over his head. We're both laying on our backs in bed, listening to Tony and Benji bicker about who gets which side of the bed. They sound like the two-year olds that we all know they are. Fortunately for us, there's a loud crash and then silence.

"Think they killed each other?" I laugh.

"Maybe," Paul smirks and entwines a finger into my hair. "That'd be lucky, huh?"

I nod.

"Maybe they'll fuck each other to death," he muses with a laugh.

Eyebrow raised, I grin. "Oh?"

"Come on, V," he snorts, amused with me. "You were talking in your sleep last night."

"And?"

"You were moaning."

"And?"

"You kept saying, ‘OH TONY FUCK BENJI HARDER! OH BENJI, DO ME! YES YES YES!"

I knew I was bright red right now. Yes. How do you deny the truth? Do you deny the truth? Because yes, I had had the Benji-Tony fuckfest dream last night, and yes, apparently he knew all about it. Fuck. Fuck me.

"It was kind of hot," he grins and reaches toward the nightstand. "Shameful to admit it, but true."

* * *

I wake up and blink my eyes against the intruding sun. Obnoxious and bright are the first two words that come to my mind. Followed by the question: where the fuck is Paul? We fell asleep together last night, his much larger body spooning my smaller shape. I know that because, well, I waited for him to fall asleep. I wanted to hear his soft breaths, his gentle snores. I wanted my horrible memory of the goth club nightmare to end with happy thoughts. Thoughts of Paul.

I sigh and sit up, glancing around the room. "Hello?"

No answer.

"Hello?"

Nothing.

I don't feel like getting out of bed- or getting dressed, for that matter- so I sit back against the headboard and wait. When you're sharing a suite with three grown men, someone's bound to show up where they don't belong eventually, right? Right. That's the theory I'm working with, anyhow.

And here comes Benjamin to prove me correct.

"Good morning," he beams proudly as he struts slowly towards the bed with a large wooden tray. "Breakfast for my lady. In bed, no less."

"Did you make this?" I stare at the tray as he places it gently down over my lap and smiles proudly. Eggs, scrambled. Pineapple juice. Toast. And what appears to be some sort of-

"That's vegan bacon," he points, still looking like a proud father. "I requested that."

I nod. "And who cooked this?"

"Tony did," Benji grins, crossing his tattooed arms across his chest. At that moment, I realize he's still in his pajamas. Or I assume the comical Dr. Seuss boxer shorts and the ridiculously obnoxious DCMA Collective t-shirt he's sporting would qualify as bedroom attire. Or so I hope. His grin widens. "Eat up, come on."

"Where's Paul?" I ask as I eye the breakfast suspiciously. Yes, if Tony cooked this, I need to be very careful. Anthony Lovato and cook never belong in the same sentence together. Ever.

Benji's grin seems to drop- or perhaps I am over-analyzing- as he shrugs. "He went out."

"Where?"

"Out."

"I heard that," I raise my eyebrow as I sip from the juice cup slowly. Mmm. Fresh squeezed pineapple juice. Surely, Tony bought that or room service brought that to us. I can't imagine Tony and Benji juicing tropical fruits in the kitchen. Scrap that, I don't want to imagine.

Benji takes a seat on the bed gently and returns his devious smirk. "Tony said that I could have a day with you today."

If it's possible to choke on air, then that's exactly what my response was. If not, then let's just say I'm an ass.

"So I thought maybe we could go on a date," he continues with a smile. "Just you and me."

I nod.

"But first, Tony made us breakfast so come on," he's waving his hands like a mother hen. "Eat up! You look hungry, V. Eat!"

"I look hungry? Gee, thanks!"

Benji blushes. "You know what I mean."

I feel like I need a food tester- Hey, Caesar had one!- but in an effort to not hurt Tony's or Benji's feelings, I try to eat. Or, well, I succeed. And the eggs aren't half bad. The toast is burnt, but the eggs are pretty good. And the juice is divine, as I've said. Mmmm. Maybe I do want to keep Tony around for a while. With some work, he could be a master chef.

"You like it, dontcha V?" Benji beams proudly. "I knew you would."

I hand him the contraption that he calls Vegan bacon. "Here, I don't even want to attempt this."

He bites down and takes the food from my hand with his mouth. He grins and chews, then swallows. "Mmmm, so tasty."

I nod. You are tasty, Benjamin. So tasty, indeed.

* * *

Tony leans back on the beach towel and stares up into the sky. Blue. Incredibly blue. If he were vain enough, he might compare the color to his own eyes. Instead, he sighs and chews on the metal ring pierced through the center of his lower lip. He sighs louder. "She asked about you this morning," he confesses, turning to his friend.

Paul nods.

"But she didn't ask about me."

Paul shrugs, placing the book he's been reading for the past hour down. Tony apparently wants to talk. He lights a cigarette and sighs. "I don't think that's necessarily a big deal, Tone."

Tony nods. "I do."

"Why?"

"I made her breakfast. Benji told her that."

"And?" Paul inhales a large breath of smoke and then coughs out a gray cloud. "Maybe she thought you were in the kitchen."

Tony shakes his head and leans back down onto his lounge chair. "I think she likes you, man."

"No shit, you think?" Paul laughs, staring out at the large pool before them. He could go for a swim. Try to take his mind off this conversation- and V's date with Benji- by doing laps. But no, there was, of course, way too many children and their mothers in the water. Always. He frowned.

Tony cleared his throat and frowned deeply. "Look, man, this isn't working. We agreed we'd split the cost of V's expenses if she'd come for the ride with us, but this isn't working."

Paul stared at his friend, disbelieving the words coming from the other man's mouth.

"I think you should go home," Tony stated plainly, glancing out at the pool and the splashing youngsters. "I think you should go home and I'll refund you your half of the money."

Paul shook his head slowly, anger rising in his blood. "No," he offered, simply.

"Why not?"

"No," Paul stated, louder and more annoyed. "I'm not going home."

Tony turns his gaze back to the other musician and frowns deeper. Lines crease his forehead. He lights his own cigarette and leans back further into the plastic chair. "Look, man, I don't have a problem giving you back your cash. It's not a big deal. The album did well and I can afford it. So just, you know, we'll call Aloha and get you the next flight back to L.A. and-"

"NO!" Paul shouted, gaining the attention from a nearby group of toddlers floating with their mothers in the shallow end of the in-ground pool.

Embarassed, Tony shook his head to dismiss the attention. "You don't have to shout."

"I AM NOT FUCKING GOING HOME!" Paul roared, standing up and knocking his forgotten novel to the ground. "FUCK YOU!"

Tony winced as his friend stormed off, leaving wet footprints on the ground as he left. He sighed and tried to ignore the curious stares he had gained. "Fuck," he sighed to himself. "That didn't go well!"

* * *

I was dancing around the suite like the good fool that I am. Yes. Breakfast in bed is quite a way to start your morning, and may I suggest it? Yes. Breakfast in bed, served to you by a hot man. Then a nice hot shower, by yourself, ahem. Then putting on your favorite comfortable, worn out jeans that have no knees. Your favorite yellow t-shirt that proclaims, "How Many Licks?" and foregoing footwear to be barefoot. Yes. Then you allow the hottest DJ you know- who also happens to be a Part-Time Chef- take over the stereo in the den of the suite.

And you dance, dance.

"Next, ladies and ladies, I'll be playing something from my favorite German creation, Wolfsheim," Benji announced in an exaggerated voice. "This is for V, because I know it's her favorite song. Check it out, this is ‘Dream of You'."

I continued to dance like a fool, Benji joining me in between songs. We were clearly both idiots for enjoying this so much, but I did enjoy it. A day away from Tony. A day without Paul. Well, alright, I missed Tony and Paul. Yes, even Tony. But dancing here through the living room and tripping over sofas with Benji was the relaxing break that I needed. Something about Benji was so….

"I feel like a girl," he giggled.

Right, that's what it is. I laughed to myself on this one. No need to hurt any feelings. No need to tell the bisexual man that he seems more like a gay man. Right.

"Do you miss him?" he asked suddenly, without reference.

"Who?"

"Paul."

"Why?" I questioned. But I knew why he had asked and I knew my answer to his questioned. It was simple. Anyone with any perception would pick up on it. Or at least, I expected I was that predictable.

Benji raced across the room to the stereo and shut off the volume. In the midst of Kanye West's "Gold Digger". Damn him. I actually love this song, even if I hate rap. I can get down with Kanye. You down?

"Anyone who doesn't see the way you look at each other is blind or stupid," Benji started off, gesturing for me to take a seat on the sofa beside him. "Or both. Either way, I see it and I'm sure Tony sees it. How can you not? Clearly, you and he really like each other."