I am sitting on the top landing, trying to decide which lady will be the lucky one tonight, when he turns the corner below. Tension lines the slightly hunched-over form as he keeps his arms close to his sides, hiding his hands in deep pockets. In spite of the rigid limbs, he moves with a smooth grace, the dark head held high with a pride and presence that is too big for the meager surroundings in which he finds himself.

I tilt my head to one side and, staring down, I study him with keen interest. I am no fashion queen, but I do have good taste, and I wouldn't mind curling up in that ankle-length black coat. Definitely not cheap and definitely much better than what I have to put up with. My living conditions are becoming more unacceptable by the day, and I make a mental note to take it up with my roommate again.

Ethan is always complaining about not having enough money, but these days our place looks like a school girl's bedroom, candles and flowers everywhere. There is only so much one can salvage off the streets, and fresh red roses, on a daily basis, is not on the list. I can say a lot of things about the violinist, but I've never known him to be a thief. Well... okay. I guess that depends on the context, because he did take Justin, who was not his to have.

The lanky frame is halfway up the stairs before he notices me, which is a bit insulting. I am the most beautiful in the territory and not used to being part of the scenery.

However, he seems troubled, an unfocused look in his eyes revealing he is miles away. Or at least, he would prefer to be anywhere but here, and it's got little to do with his obvious disgust at being in a run-down apartment building. There is a sadness... a shadow around his mouth that touches me... and I'm not the touchy-feely type. Clearly, there is a lot on his mind, and none of it is about anything pleasant. The strong chin is set in defiance, and I notice the cheek muscles straining. He is fighting strong emotions, much more than just the sadness, which I sense is a permanent companion.

When his eyes finally clear and meet mine... they are beautiful, the color of dark earth after the rain, littered with small flecks of sunshine.

By now, I'm too intrigued to confront him about his lack of attention.

Climbing another couple of steps, he doesn't stop before we draw level, his gaze arrogantly locking with mine. His counter-challenge is clear. But, I must admit, I would have been disappointed if he hadn't acknowledged my dare.

I am not into male-on-male action, but I do appreciate all things beautiful. Probably Ethan's influence. I guess living with two queer artists has rubbed off on me, and if I have to be honest with myself... especially Justin. I can just hear his voice, his excitement if he saw this magnificent creature. He would go for days and nights without sleep, trying to capture the intensity, the human being hidden behind the haughty posterior. There is something about the stranger that seems familiar, and that reminds me of the blond painter... They should hit it off like an electric thunderstorm, and I suddenly wish for it to happen, that I could see them meet.

He blatantly looks me over, and my hair bristles. No need to get cocky about it. Leader of the pack, he has alpha male oozing out of his pores, and it fits him well... as it does me. It's a good thing he is not from around here. I'd much rather us be friends. Not that I'd ever turn down a fight, but it is extremely tedious, and so unnecessary. After all, I always win. And it would be a real shame to scar those handsome features.

He is the first to move, quirking an eyebrow. I smirk and blink back at him, surprised when the stoic face breaks into a broad grin. Judging from the dark scowl, I'd thought he was going to ignore me again.

I stand my ground when he brushes pass me, my nose twitching at the scent of him.

Oh, my.

Sex, heat, sweat, desire... He is hunting.

I perk up, immediately losing all interest in my own plans. Trouble is wrapped more snugly around the gorgeous body than that very pretty cashmere scarf of his, and the promise of it sends sparks up my spine.

It had been getting really boring around here lately, not to mention the increase in my irritation at the drastic changes made to my lifestyle. It was just assumed that I would give up my favorite chair, my side of the bed. It was taken from me without even asking.

I didn't take much notice when the blond boy started coming 'round more often. Except for me, Ethan has never let anyone else move in. Besides, I know Ethan. That lamenting piece of wood that he is so weird about is the only thing that can keep his attention for any real length of time.

The charming pout he manipulated the kid with, trying to convince him to spend the night, wasn't born from the nauseatingly mushy reasoning he kept feeding Justin with. Ethan was fuming because Justin wasn't his. It was eating away at his gut like a cancer that someone else had more power over the teenager than he had, and that he was... oh, this is delicious... Ethan Gold was playing second fiddle!

Justin, for his part, didn't make a good first impression on me, even though his touch was soft and warm when we met. They weren't aware that I was listening when he mentioned during his first visit that he lived with his boyfriend. He didn't even try to avoid Ethan's not so subtle prodding for more details about the problems they were having, and I thought it in bad taste that he was sharing with a complete stranger what should only be discussed between his partner and himself.

Ethan, of course, didn't miss a beat and flirted shamelessly. Underlying those honey words of his was bitchy innuendo that Justin wasn't appreciated and was entitled to much more. The poor boy didn't stand a chance. It was clear that he was overwhelmed by the attention, and I didn't need to open more than one eye to see that he was in over his head, even though he left with only whispered promises. He would be back. Even if he didn't realize it, he was smitten. It was disgusting.

Justin was nervous that afternoon when he asked Ethan to play for him, to solo him with something romantic. But there was a determined set to his jaw that marked the start of what I could tell him, had he only asked, would be a very rocky road. He had made up his mind that he was going to have Ethan, but he wasn't prepared to leave his boyfriend. He didn't even want to discuss it, and just continued to side-step Ethan's sullenness.

I am convinced that he firmly believed, at that time, that he could have Ethan and keep his partner, and the comfortable lifestyle that was part and parcel of their relationship. Swooned and fawned over by Ethan, and fabulous sex at home anytime he wanted it. The mystery man in his life was apparently the stud of Pittsburgh, knee-weakeningly handsome and the best fuck, if Justin was to be believed. Ethan was seething with jealousy but kept his cool. Justin was skittish but definitely interested, and Ethan enjoyed his new toy slowly, seducing him with maestro strokes.

None of this would have bothered me if not for the fact that Ethan wasn't the only one climbing the walls because of Justin selfishly buttering his bread on both sides. It didn't matter how many times I asked him, it didn't matter how polite or spitting mad I was about it, he went out of his way to make my life as miserable as his was by making that hideous thing wail more than ever, for hours and hours and hours on end. I had little choice but to flee the apartment for long periods of time just to get some peace and quiet, and for that I won't forgive him easily. Not for having driven me from my home in the middle of winter.

But then Ethan won, apparently. I was on my way out when Justin staggered in that night, blue eyes all red, face puffy and swollen from crying all the way over to our place. Such a display of emotion was unnerving, not to mention degrading. I still shudder at the mere thought that he had been out in public looking like that.

Of course, Ethan was so sympathetic and so understanding and so loving and so grateful... and Justin, hurting and disillusioned and having only himself to blame, was lapping it up like a pathetic little puppy. Romance, indeed... never when there is cock involved. Fags will do anything to get laid. Problem was, Ethan was saying all the right things, whereas Justin's sex god apparently never said anything at all and only fucked him senseless. I have still not been able to work out why that had been a problem.

Justin didn't leave us again, and for a while it went well. Both of them seemed happy – I certainly was. They were spending so much time staring into one another's eyes that Ethan almost never practiced anymore.

It took a while for the blond to settle in. For a long time, I could sense his discomfort, not being quite at home, and I always wondered. Sure, when he left his partner, he swore to Ethan that it was over, and that he was in love with Ethan, and Ethan only. But there was a look in his eyes, a wistful tone in his voice when he and I chatted alone. He never spoke to Ethan about... Brian. But I knew all about Brian long before Ethan even knew the name of his adoring admirer's ex.

Ethan only found out because Justin cried it out in his sleep one night. His new boyfriend didn't take that well, not well at all. Justin had to grovel for days before the fiddler relented to speak to him again. The make-up sex thereafter... the moaning that followed qualified as their most off-putting sounds yet. Justin was even louder and more enthusiastic than Ethan, and it was usually the other way around. I got the impression he was a bit too into it. There was a false tone to his cries that made me think he wasn't "making love" – whatever the fuck that is – but working at convincing Ethan it was only the two of them, that there was no fucking hot ghost haunting him.

As it turned out, I had to review my opinion of the boy.

He spent much of his time at home, making funny marks on paper with those thin sticks of his, and we got to know each other well. To me, paper had always been entertainment, part of my recreation, and I was fascinated by the colors he kept splurging onto the white surfaces. He saw my interest and laughed when I cautiously approached, hoping to try it out for myself.

Truth be told, he is much too good for Ethan.

I know the violin-king-wannabe. I knew it was only a matter of time and, indeed, he didn't disappoint me.

Justin's crush intensified, and Ethan lost interest. Pride, however, kept him from pulling his dick out of the blond's ass and giving him the boot. Figuratively speaking, of course, because Justin never let Ethan top him. It was no mean feat to have outshined the mighty Brian Kinney, and Ethan was struggling with keeping his prize and giving up his freedom in the process. So, he did the next best thing... took both.

I never told Justin about Ethan's extracurricular activities. It was none of my business. But I was amazed at his naivete. Ethan went after him even though he knew Justin was in a relationship – What would stop him from doing the same thing to Justin?

Of course, it's not like I want the young artist to get hurt. In fact, he's fucking adorable, and if I could I would blush at having to admit that he has a little bit of my heart mixed in with all those colors of his.

Still... I'm bored. Besides, Ethan can't continue fucking around on Justin. And, if the truth happens to come out, accompanied by a spectacular show of fireworks... I am going to be in the front row.

Footsteps echo down the short passage, and I quickly follow as my new associate heads straight for my apartment, my tail quivering with excitement.

This is going to be good.