The cold water on my face brought me back. Everything in Billy's bathroom was constructed out of solid white marble; no surprise there. Even the sink, on which I steadied myself as I splashed my face with chilling water, looked like it was worth more than my entire kitchen and bathroom combined. The man staring out from the mirror above the sink looked like he had been through hell.

Dark circles under my bloodshot eyes told me that I had been up late drinking. My rat's nest hair was sticking out at odd places; a serious case of bedhead. I rubbed my sore neck, only to discover a hickey hidden on the left side. I looked a little strange wearing the pale blue bathrobe that was undoubtedly Billy's (the large "BJC" monogrammed in gold letters above the left breast gave it away) and my swim trunks. I knew he wouldn't mind that I borrowed his garment from the bathroom, plus I didn't want him to see me half naked again so soon.

"Why are you worrying?" a tiny voice in my head prodded at my brain. "He's already seen you completely butt-naked."

I vomited into the white marble toilet. Great. Now I knew exactly what color the drinks were last night. Honestly, I couldn't remember the last time I had been this hung-over. Billy had some major explaining to do.

As if my thoughts had mentally summoned him, the man in the bedroom yawned as he cracked his back with alarming volume. Shit. Now I had to face him. What do I say? Could he not remember last night, either? Should I pretend to have no idea what happened? Or do I own up to it? He was opening the door to the bathroom now. Fuck.

"Man, someone's not a morning person."

He was there in the doorway, rubbing his forehead with a tiny grin. Somehow he still managed to look flawless. Maybe it was the plaid boxer shorts, which was the only thing he was wearing. I made myself avert my eyes from staring at the outline of what was under them. I clenched my lips tight before I could say anything about his appearance, knowing I'd never hear the end of it. I settled for responding with "I've looked worse."

"Really? I find that hard to believe." My cheeks burned. "Still, it kind of suits you. I like the natural wind-blown hair look for you, brotato."

"Thanks," I muttered. "You look like you slept pretty well."

Billy was now at the sink splashing water on his face, as I had done only a short while ago. "Years of practice of dealing with hangovers. That and my bed is like sleeping on a cloud. Though I guess that didn't really help you..."

Silence apart from the sound of water hitting Billy's face and dripping off his chin. It was now or never, I guessed. "So, about last night..."

"Last night got sort of crazy," Billy spoke over me, calmly.

"Yeah."

He paused, still bent over the sink and hands cupped with water, to look up at me. You don't remember a thing, do you?"

"Nothing at all."

"Well, let me fill you in." He turned off the sink and shook his hands dry. The eye contact he held was hypnotic. "Last night we had what I have to classify as the most wild, amazing sex of my life. You've definitely earned the top spot in Billy Joe Cobra's List of People He Would Fuck Again, broton."

I don't know how long I stood there for. I lost track of time. It seemed like only a second had passed before Billy was snapping his fingers in my face. "Sorry," I mumbled. "I guess I…um…I—"

"Don't strain yourself, brofessor," Billy grinned, now holding his hand up, signaling for me to stop. "I understand. Hooking up with a celebrity—especially one as popular and famous as me—can be quite the culture shock.

"It's not that," I retorted while I swat his hand away. "It's just, I…I mean…never in the past have I…with another man…and…"

A grin crept its way onto Billy's face. I had dug my own grave. "Ah. First time shopping in the other side of the mall. I see." Billy put his arm around my shoulder, like he was about to teach me this huge, profound lesson about the meaning of life. "Listen, you can fuck girls all you want. Maybe you're straight, maybe you aren't. But the first time you fuck a dude, you just know. I certainly did. Nah, don't give me that look, broseph; you're not the first guy I've slept with. The Cobra's been around." At this point I didn't think his grin could possibly get any wider. "So tell me, Spence. What's the verdict? Even if you don't remember the details of last night, you still know, don't you?"

I did know. But I was having trouble taking it all in. Sure, I had never been much of a ladies man. The few exes I had could attest to that. And I did find Billy rather beautiful, plus butterflies always seemed to find their way into my stomach when he smiled at me. But the term "homosexual" never occurred to me. Not until now.

But why should I even tell him? The guy was my neighbor, yes, but he was also a multi-millionaire. And a former celebrity. And the most attractive person I'd ever laid eyes on. Even if I did confess to him that I was gay, what's the most that would come out of it? Another hookup, somewhere down the line, maybe. But definitely not a relationship. Someone like him doesn't date someone like me.

Then again, the other side of my conscious argued, he had invited me on outings every day since I had met him. And he had been flirty with me as well; it wasn't just one-sided. He wouldn't have done that if he wasn't a little interested…right?

"Yes," I finally admitted. "I know…and yes."

He smiled. "Just so you know, this isn't exactly news to me. Drunk actions are sober sexual fantasies, as they say."

"That's not how the saying goes."

"Eh. It's true though, bromigo."

"Perhaps..."

Again he put his arm around my shoulders. "Hey, how about some breakfast? What's a stay at Casa de Cobra without a continental breakfast? My chefs can have a meal ready in no time, if you want, brotato chips."

Not wanting to be rude and decline but also not wanting to leave, I accepted.

"Great!" Billy grinned. "And if you want to borrow a shirt, you're more than welcome to. Though you do look pretty fucking cute without one."

He was out of the bathroom before I could throw the bar of soap at him.