FicWad

It was actually getting to the point where he hated to hear the phone ring, thinking that the inevitable news was waiting on the other line. He tried not to imagined getting the phone call-'Hey Tom, hate to tell you this but Steven overdosed.' Or 'They found Steven, he's been dead for days.' He didn't want to think of it. He didn't know how he would handle it.

Tom sighed as he came up to a red light. Life wasn't easy in a band; nobody ever said it would be. But the past few years had been difficult in the Aerosmith camp: First Joe left, then Brad. Joey was basically gone; he hadn't handed in his resignation, but he knew in his heart that Joey would soon be gone too. That left him and Steven: the last two old battered warriors.

He had gotten a call from Steven last night, asking him if he would have a 'meeting of the minds'. He knew that Steven had a few new ideas for the tour; maybe that's what he wanted to talk about. As he pulled into the turning lane he wondered to himself: Why this couldn't be done over the phone, but what Steven wants is what Steven gets. It was easier driving over here than to put up with one of his temper tantrums.

Still, it had been a while since he'd actually seen him; he liked to keep tabs on him. Somebody had to look out for the bastard, since he didn't seem to care about himself anymore. He knew he would give Steven money, he couldn't say no to the man. He wouldn't mind helping him out if he was buying food but he needed money for the important things in life like drugs.

He looked at the old building-fuck why isn't this place condemned? He didn't want to come to this horrible place, but Terry wasn't thrilled with having Steven come to their place anymore. He was known to 'help himself' to anything that wasn't bolted down.

It broke his heart to see Steven this way, living in this dismal little run down apartment building. He was careful as he walked down the hallway, watching out for the rats that lived there. "Jesus Christ." He muttered to himself. Tom sighed again and knocked.

"Who is it?" Steven's voice asked through the beat up door.

"Tom."

He was met with a pair of raccoon eyes. "Yeah, come on in."

He knew Steven was bad, but not this bad-he was barely recognizable. He'd always been thin, but he was basically a skeleton now. His skin was a strange grayish color, his body trembled, his cheekbones looked like they were going to break out of his face. His hair was tangled and dirty-his clothes had seen better days, too.

Tom walked in and looked around. The place was still a dump. A weird white paste hung on the walls-he saw it on the mopboards, too. Beer cans line the side tables; hell, Steven didn't really even try to hide the empty vials of crack beside the chair.

"What brings you here?" Steven shuffled over to his filthy armchair and sat down.

He looked around trying to find a place to sit; he decided to stay standing. "Steven, you asked me here." God, he was bad today. He now knew that this was going to be one of those meetings with Steven that don't amount to shit.

"Oh." Steven frowned. "Oh yeah. I did. I was-" He looked at the wall, stood, and slapped his thin hand against it. He slapped the wall so hard Tom jumped. "God, I don't know what attracts them here."

"Them?" Tom asked calmly.

"The bugs!" Steven exclaimed. "Fuck can't you see them?" He returned to the wall and gave it another slap.

Tom's heart fell: Steven was going to kill himself. He was poisoning himself with all this shit. He was committing suicide, just as sure as if he put a knife to his wrist and cut it. Only this was taking years instead of minutes.

He watched Steven's hands shake as he squeezed the last of the toothpaste onto the wall, taking his trembling fingers and rubbing it into the cracks-trying in vain to keep the imaginary bugs away.

Tom remained silent as Steven continued to rant about this infestation. He didn't listen to him, he was too busy thinking: What if we have another failed tour? What if we lose the contract? And what about Joey? Fuck, if Joey leaves, maybe that will send him completely over the edge. It wouldn't be enough to get him sober, nothing would ever get Steven Tyler stone cold sober.

Aerosmith would eventually end in his death or incurable insanity.

It was a heartbreaking way to end, Tom sadly mused. Steven Tyler, the very personification of a tortured genius. He had always had a way with words; melodies came to him as easy as breathing. The last few records and tours had been tainted with drugs and alcohol, but that was everybody's fault. He hoped that Teresa would straighten him out, but most of the time she was just as wasted as he was.

Steven had so much going for him, but he was his own worst critic. Nothing was ever good enough. It always had to be better. It always had to be perfect; he always tried his best even if he was barely able to stay conscience. He expected that perfection from everyone, but nobody could ever achieve his standard. No one could ever be perfect in his eye.

Tom couldn't watch him anymore; he turned and walked over to the kitchen table. He looked down, there was a press clipping about their new album, he recognized it. The critic hated it. He didn't know why Steven bothered in keeping it. There was some jewelry, and a black tee shirt lying on top of a plastic bag.

He frowned, that was strange. Maybe he was trying to keep the imaginary moths from eating it. He picked up the shirt, it didn't look like anything Steven would wear: Just an ordinary black tee shirt-too plain for a flashy rock god.

"What the fuck?" Steven yelled at him. He wiped his hands on his jeans and grabbed the shirt out of his hands. "What are you doing?"

He just about scared the shit out of him. "Nothing."

Steven looked at the shirt and back at Tom. He angrily shouted. "I don't want you touching this, OK?"

"OK Steven. I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it."

Steven's face fell a bit. "You don't understand Tom, it's all I got left."

"I won't touch it again," He even took a step back, to make his point. "I promise."

Steven sat on his heels, looking at the shirt. "God I miss him." He sounded like he was ready to cry then his eyes went up, staring at him. "Don't you miss him?"

"Who?" Tom asked softly.

"Joe!" Steven screamed. "I miss Joe! I miss Brad!" He hung his head down and cried. "Are you here to tell me that you're leaving too?"

Tom had been toying with the idea, but he couldn't leave. Not now. He couldn't leave this wretched man. "No I won't leave." He said confidently. "I won't leave the band, I won't leave you Steven."

"We're gonna comeback you know." He sniffed. "We'll make them wish that they had never left."

He knelt beside Steven. "Yeah we will." He knew they would never be as big as they had been. But that's all Steven had left-memories and dreams.

He watched Steven; silently crying, cradling this black tee shirt like it was the most valuable thing in the world. Like it was a priceless relic.

He suddenly realized what was going on. He never forgot what he'd seen in that hotel room, even though he told Joe he would. He tried for a while afterwards to see if the two of them were fucking around, but he had decided that Joe was right, it was just a kiss.

But seeing Steven with this shirt, seeing how angry he was at him by just picking it up, something definitely happened between Steven and Joe-more than a musical partnership. They had been together a lot more than Joe was trying to make out.

Now some things were starting to make sense. He had heard some rumors from the staff, and roadies-nothing concrete though. He knew what Steven was capable of.

"I knew you'd never abandon me. My sweet darling," Steven gave a tear stained smile, "Tommy."

He knew what that meant. That's what Steven called him the times that they were more than friends. Tom's mind flashed back, to all those years ago...

She called and said she wanted to meet him. He had no fucking clue that she was gonna dump him. He had no idea what he'd done wrong; she told him he hadn't done anything. He begged her for another chance, but she said no.

He walked home. Marie's last words to him tore through his mind. 'My parents want me to make something of my life. I need to find an honorable man, not a musician. We had fun Tom, but I have to move on.'

He walked blindly on thinking about his Marie. He thought she was the most perfect woman he'd ever met. She was so smart, so pretty, just so perfect. He was a fool in thinking she'd ever seriously want to marry him. They weren't at that stage of their relationship yet, but he'd imagined it. He really thought Marie was the one for him.

Yes, he was a fool. A fool for thinking that perfect Marie would ever settle down with the likes of him. What the hell was he thinking?

He realized that he'd lost the love of his life, just because he was a bass player in a rock band; she wanted something more. 'Honorable' that was an adjective he'd never used to describe himself.

He walked into the house; nobody was there. He sat at the kitchen table; he couldn't hold the pain inside anymore. He broke down. He was glad that none of them were there to see him crying over a girl.

Just then he heard some quiet footsteps. Fuck, he wasn't alone. He quickly tried to pull himself together.

It was Steven. "Tom?" He asked quietly.

"Hey there Steven." He was trying to keep his voice from cracking.

"You OK man?"

He gave a halfhearted nod, but kept his eyes down. He hoped that Steven would leave too, but he sat down at the table.

"I don't think you're OK."

He remained silent, trying to hold himself together.

"What happened?" Steven prodded. "You'd feel better by telling somebody. I won't repeat it," He gently patted his arm trying to coax him on, "I promise."

Maybe he was right. "She dumped me."

"Oh." Steven actually seemed surprised. He kept a sympathetic silence waiting for him to continue.

He finally made himself look at Steven. "I'm not good enough."

"You're not good enough?"

"Her parents want her to make something out of her life and to find an honorable man."

"You are an honorable man."

"You know what I mean! A professional, not a musician."

"You'll find somebody. You'll find the right one."

"What if Marie is the right one? Maybe I'm not cut out for this music shit. Maybe I should do something else-"

"What?" Steven got up went to the fridge and got out a six-pack. "Something else? Like what?"

"I don't know. Go to college and become a teacher," He shrugged, "or something."

Steven just stared at him like he was insane. "You wouldn't be happy being a teacher! You're a great bassist; music is your destiny." He popped open a beer and sat it down in front of him. "Trust me, drink it. You'll feel better. I know its rough," He said as he opened his beer, "But fuck Tom, there's lots of fish in the sea."

He picked up the can and took a drink, got up and looked out over the gray Boston sky. "Yeah but I never thought I'd have to go fishing again." He sighed; the sigh turned into uncontrollable sobbing. He quickly pulled himself together again.

Steven went to him and put his hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you just let it out?"

He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, "Huh?"

"Tom, hey man, you've been dealt one helluva blow. It's OK to cry. There's nothing that will kill you faster than holding pain inside."

He felt himself frown. He wasn't really comfortable crying in front of someone else. He had no problem crying in private; he was afraid of getting teased, he supposed. He'd always been taught that men don't cry. Men are strong; men don't cave in.

"Its better to let it out. It won't get better unless you let the pain out. Get it out of your system."

He hung his head down and let the dam open up. He felt Steven's arms go around him. He found his own arms going around Steven. He felt Steven's hand pat him gently on his back.

He finally got it out of his system. He couldn't physically cry anymore. He pulled away and wiped his eyes again. Steven got him a tissue.

"Thanks." He said as he wiped his eyes again.

"Do you feel better?"

He gave a nod. "Yeah but now I can't really breathe."

"Finish your beer." Steven ordered.

He tried to flood his pain with beer, but he was still devastated by his loss. He just wanted to forget this ever happened. He would rather forget Marie completely than to live with the sting of not having her at all.

Steven sat with him, drinking with him, listening to him pour out his heart. He was glad Steven was there to talk to. He was always surprised at how smart Steven was. Everybody always wrote him off as just a stupid rock star wannabe asshole, but he wasn't. Steven was an incredibly intelligent man. He always had insight at problems-either global or daily problems of life. Steven always had a viewpoint.

And some truly gifted insights were coming out of the joint they were sharing.

They had sat there for hours, talking about life and chicks and what it all really meant. Steven told him about some of the songs he was working on; he was certain that they would set the world on fire with them.

He wished he could be as confident as Steven was. Steven knew what he wanted; it really never occurred to him that there are a lot of bands out there. Steven knew they would be a success: no doubt about it.

He saw things differently: Competition in the music business is thick; all he hoped for was enough money to pay his bills.

He thought about Marie again, he wondered what she was doing tonight. If she had cried about him, or if she shrugged him off and already found her 'honorable man'.

He finally realized that he was scared. He was scared of growing old alone. Not having anyone to be with. He was just plain scared.

Steven began to roll another joint. He leaned his elbows on the table, watching Steven expertly roll the paper. "Do you ever worry about being alone?"

Steven gave a shrug. "I don't think about it."
He watched Steven light the joint and inhale it. He handed it to him. He took a hit and handed it back. It didn't take too long to finish it off.

He was lost in thought again. He found himself thinking about his life and if he was cut out for the band. He knew that quitting wouldn't bring Marie back, but maybe he should listen to his family and grow up.

He finished off his beer. Steven handed him another one. He was getting pretty petrified, but one more beer sounded good. The guys were gonna be pissed; the two of them had almost finished off their entire alcohol inventory. Nothing left in the fridge but cold pizza and mustard.

He noticed that it was getting harder for him to concentrate; God he was gonna feel like shit tomorrow.

Steven stood and walked to him. He then sat down on his lap and put his arms around his neck.

He was a little shocked by his behavior. "What?"

"I just wanted to make sure that you're OK."

"Yeah, I'm OK." He lied.

"I just want you to remember how special you are Tom." Steven leaned closer to him. "How much you mean to me."

"Um," He looked away from Steven. "Well thanks."

He wiped his eyes, and felt Steven's fingers gently rubbed and his shoulders. His hands made their way down lower and lower, massaging his chest.

He didn't really know what the hell was going on. He felt incredibly uncomfortable here. He was indeed grateful to Steven for talking him through everything, but what was he doing?

He was lost in thought when he felt Steven's chin resting on his shoulder. Then he felt his arms wrapping around his body again. Funny thing was he really didn't mind it; he was comforting.

"You know what, Tommy," He kissed him on the neck, "Marie doesn't deserve you. She doesn't realize what she let slip though her fingers."

He was certain that he would be letting go of him, but his arms wrapped tighter around his body. He held him for a long time, his breath softly hitting him on the crook of his neck.

He swallowed hard. That hot breath seemed so incredible.

Steven's head went back up; they were now face to face. His head inched closer to his; he could feel Steven's warm breath on his face.

"Do you know the way to truly bond a friendship, Tommy?"

"No." He managed.

"Physical love." Steven rubbed his nose on his. "I think that we can get real close. I would like to bond our friendship even more, Tommy."

"Steven, um, I don't understand."

"I want you."

He blinked at Steven, he couldn't respond. He felt himself getting a little hot.

"Aw," Steven smiled, "You're blushing! That's so sweet!"

He looked away from Steven's smile.

"Your so smart, and handsome." Steven continued as he repositioned himself, so now he was straddling his lap. "She doesn't deserve you. She doesn't understand you like I do." He gave sort of a little pelvic thrust against him, to add to his point.

He looked those wild eyes, eyes like a wolf, ready to pounce on its prey; eyes that hungered for him...

Tom focused on the present. He looked at Steven; his eyes were flat, glazed over. Dead. He gave a slight smile back. "Have you eaten today?"

"I bet you got something for me." Steven nuzzled his head onto Tom's shoulder. He felt Steven's lips on his skin. His trembling fingers went down his arm. Christ, he didn't want to open up this can of worms...

Steven's touch made a flow of emotions come to the surface. He didn't know what to do; he was a little curious at what Steven had in mind. He soon found out.

Steven cautiously inched a little closer until their lips met-he had large soft lips like she had. He knew that he wasn't kissing Marie; he was kissing Steven, but he was an incredible kisser.

Steven forced his tongue into his mouth. He really didn't mind this either. He kissed back, wrestling his tongue with Steven's.

As Steven leaned closer into him, he gave another thrust, sending a wave of pleasure through his body. He couldn't help but to gasp.

Steven pulled his own shirt off and threw it onto the kitchen table. He felt Steven's long fingers running through his hair as he kissed him harder.

He returned the gesture. His hands ran wild over Steven's naked chest, slowly at first; then with a harder kneading motion. He felt Steven's hard cock pressing into him, he was certain that Steven knew he was aroused too.

He found his mouth locked onto Steven's neck, sucking him hard. He heard a zipper unzip, then he heard another one. He realized the second one was his own. Steven's hand slowly made its way inside his jeans and found his cock. He took him, and began playing with him, as he kissed his chest. He could feel himself getting hotter; Steven had a magical touch.

Steven then grasped his hand and forced it into his own pants. He froze as he felt Steven's warm hard dick.

"What's the matter Tommy?" He cooed.

He started to pull his hand away and out of Steven's fly. He stopped him, and shoved his hand down again.

"Come on, Tommy. Just pet me a while." He forced his fingers to close around it. "Come on baby. Let's just have a little fun." Steven kissed his lips harder, shoving his tongue deeper down; as he did his hand kneaded his cock.

He did finally begin to stroke Steven. He was a little surprised that he was quite a bit larger than Steven was. He didn't have anything to be ashamed of, but he just figured that the way all the girls fought over him Steven was packing something huge.

He tried to repeat the movements that Steven did; he knew he wasn't as good but it was a start. He heard Steven moaned gleefully; he must have been doing something right.

Their mouths were locked, kissing deeply and passionately. Steven's right hand working its magic, caressing his cock and balls; while his left hand rubbing down his thigh.

He was driving him wild. "Steven," Tom said between his gasps, "I've never done anything like this-"

"Ah don't try that 'I'm a virgin' shit on me! I know better than that!"

"No, I'm not." Then he frowned; of course this was his first time! "I've never done this with a guy."

"Don't worry Tommy, I'll show you the ropes."

He felt Steven's arms going around him. It couldn't happen again. "Steven why don't we go down to the diner, I'll buy you a cheeseburger and a Coke."

Steven pulled his head up, and looked at Tom. He quickly stood and went to the table; Tom followed, watching his shaky hand grasped the plastic bag. He tried to pull the shirt back into it, but he couldn't manage to do it. Tom finally held the bag open, helping Steven guide it in.

"There." Tom let go, "It's all safe."

"Thanks." Steven sniffed. He placed it back in the old beat up dresser.

"How about that cheeseburger, huh?" Tom asked.

Steven gave a nod. "Yeah, I guess that would be good too." He followed Tom out.

______________________________________

Tom left Steven alone in his apartment; he felt better just knowing that the man had something to eat. He knew Steven made a false promise of buying milk for Teresa; he caved in and gave him five dollars.

He got back to his place and found himself sitting in front of the TV, but not watching it at all. He snorted a line, to clear his mind. It didn't work.

It'd been a long time since the thought about their first encounter; it was a strangely delicious night...

He remembered that they both played with each other for a long time. Just the pressure of having Steven sitting on his lap was enough to make him sweat, combined with his magic touch-hell he didn't stand a chance.

He wasn't sure just where this was gonna end up. Maybe this was gonna be some sort of mutual jack off thing. He didn't know: didn't care. It was just great to have someone holding him right now.

He pulled Steven closer to him, roughly kissing those incredible lips. He couldn't be alone right now. He needed Steven. He told him that.

Steven gave a low groan of approval then he kissed his nose. "Let's go to my room. We can get a little more comfortable in there." He stood.

He got up too, and almost fell over. Steven caught him and helped walk him into his bedroom. The next thing he knew he was laying on a bed watching Steven undress him.

He looked at Steven, naked, kneeling beside him. He then he draped himself over his body and began gently kissing him. His lips stayed for a long time on his as Steven's arms went around his body, holding him tight.

He was beginning to get aroused again; Steven was sending him over the top. Just then Steven sat up. "Let me massage you, Tommy." He purred.

He felt baby oil pour onto his stomach and Steven's hands rubbing him down. He gasped as he went lower and lower down his body. He watched Steven rub his cock; he felt like he was gonna come right there.

Satisfied with his work, Steven lay back on the bed too. Now he ended on top of him, continuing to kiss and touch Steven. He cradled him and felt his small frame relax under his body.

"I want you so bad." Steven's voice almost sounded like he was begging. "I want your cock inside me."

"Really?" He asked numbly.

"Yeah I want your big cock in me." He was almost panting like a dog. Steven hand gently rubbed at his erection, "God you're massive."

"You're not so bad yourself." He felt himself smile. He sat up and watched Steven nonchalantly spread his legs and basically bend himself in half. It was like he was doing the splits with the hips upright and his butt open and in the air. He couldn't believe how he could bend himself like that and steadily hold the position too.

He understood what Steven wanted. He took the bottle of oil off the bed and poured a little into his hands. He rubbed his ass, he groaned in delight. He inserted his index finger into Steven's hole and swiveled it, he squirmed, moaning as he moved his finger around. He felt him relax and heard him sigh.

"Tommy, I have to have you."

He took some more of the oil and greased himself up and inserted himself into Steven. He leaned forward and kissed him on his lips. He felt Steven hand as he began to jerk himself.

He felt Steven's breath on his face, and heard him begin to pant. He felt Steven tighten up as his own orgasm hit. Steven began to moan, his head went back in a low howl. He felt Steven's warm cream spray on him.

He felt his own orgasm hit now, he couldn't help but let out his own grunts. He thrust into Steven, making him howl louder.

"Oh yeah Tommy, harder baby."

He obliged and rocked harder. He put his hands on Steven's hips to get a little more leverage. He glided back and forth with long smooth strokes then thrusting deeper into him-he felt Steven's body quivering. He would let up every so often: He wanted a good long hard fuck.

Steven's hands went to the headboard; he grasped it, his knuckles were turning white. He moaned with every penetration.

"God," Steven cried out, "Oh my God Tommy! God you're hurting me!"

He let up a bit.

"No hurt me." Steven ordered; he resumed his strong strokes. "Yeah Tommy, yeah baby that's it!"

They moaned and grunted and gasped until they were both exhausted. It was a good hard fuck.

He pulled out and lie back onto the bed, sweating out most of the beer he'd downed. Steven soon was cuddled up next to him, "God Tommy," he gave him a smile, "For a virgin, you're magnificent!"

He looked at those big brown eyes, and gave him a hug...

He remembered that the next morning, he woke up in his own bed and feeling like shit. He didn't know just how all this would affect their friendship, but Steven didn't treat him any different than before.

He knew way back then that Steven hit him at a weak point in his life. He was vulnerable. Steven was right-he did find someone else. Their romance-ended mutually: it ended with Terry.

Years later, he mentioned to her that once when Steven was drunk, he hugged him and gave him a kiss on the nose; for a month afterwards she referred to Steven Tyler as 'the fag'. At least she never said it in public. He didn't dare tell her the rest of the story.

Then his thoughts moved to today. He kept thinking about Steven and that shirt and that day long ago in that hotel room.

God maybe he had a hand in this whole fucking mess...Making Joe kiss him for his silence. He really didn't believe he had it in him. A part of him thought Joe would call his bluff and walk out. He wasn't sorry for it though. He really didn't want anymore than that from Joe.

Tom had always been amazed at how women were magically attracted to Joe. Women that didn't even know who the fuck Joe Perry was saw him and wanted to jump him. It was like he emitted a pheromone or something. Joe wasn't all that arrogant or anything, in fact he was sort of the opposite. A part of him wanted to see just why, so that's why he did it.

Joe Perry: The other Toxic Twin. Hmmm...maybe he was onto something here.

He had heard that The Joe Perry Project had had some problems; problems that would break most other bands apart. Maybe Joe would change his mind, and he would come back. Maybe Joe could save Steven from himself. All the man needed was someone to understand him. Maybe Joe and Steven could just talk some shit over.

He couldn't really ask Joe himself; he had talked to him a couple of times, but it was cold conversations. A part of him really hated Joe for putting them through all of this shit. Joe fucked up everything by leaving the band. Yeah sure Steven could be an ass, but so could each and every one of them. He didn't want to blow this plan-it was far too important.

'Who could talk to Joe and not raise his suspicions?' His hand reached for the telephone...

___________________________________________

Mirrors don't lie. Joe looked at himself; he looked like shit. He was thirty-three years old and his youth was gone. He was going gray. He looked at the scars that marred his forearms. He had wasted everything he had: His houses, cars, boats, money. It was all gone.

He found out too late. He made a horrible mistake. He made the mistake of believing all the bullshit. He made the mistake of listening to how great he was and how he didn't need Steven or anybody else. He wasn't a guitar god as he was led to believe-he was a bum. He was reduced to living with Billie and her son Aaron. He couldn't even pitch in to pay for groceries.

This entire Joe Perry Project affair had shaken his confidence right down to the core. With Aerosmith, everything came so much easier than with JPP-with this he fought tooth and nail to get the right guys, the right songs, right producers: everything was a fucking uphill battle. He just thought it was tough with Aerosmith; hell that was a cakewalk.

Maybe it was all Steven's vision. Steven was a fucking genius that is, when he isn't fucked up.
The JPP did exactly what Steven had said-Not worth a shit. He had lost his record contract. A band without a contract, that's a band with no future. The only good things he got outta the past five years were Adrian and Billie.

He gave deep sigh as he thought of his son Adrian. God he missed him-he lived on the other side of the country. He wished that he could convince Billie to move out there, just so he could watch him grow up. Fuckin Elyssa used that kid to get to him; now she had the ultimate trump card. Looking back on all of it she poisoned him against the rest of them too, he was certain of that.

The doorbell broke his concentration. 'Who the hell's that?' He thought to himself as he walked to the door. He cautiously opened it; there was Brad. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him. "Hey there Joe. You're kinda a hard guy to find."

"Hey Brad." He opened the door, and let him inside. "Yeah not too many people know I'm living here. What brings you by?"

"You want to go to a show?"

"Sure. Who?"

"Aerosmith."

Joe was silent. He hadn't seen Steven since he had turned up to a JPP show, and then all Steven could do was tell him how they'd done everything wrong. "Why?" He finally asked.

"Why not?"

Joe was still silent. He missed them all; he never knew how much all of them meant to him until he didn't have them anymore. He had wished for a long time that Steven would call, and ask him back. As the years slowly went by, he lost that hope. Steven had this Rick and Jimmy. He didn't need him and Brad. Steven hated traitors: They were the ultimate traitors. Steven would never talk to him again.

"Listen Joe, I don't know about you, but I miss them. I miss Aerosmith. We had a great time, and my band, well it was fun, but I don't like wearing all the hats."

"Yeah."

"Let's just go, you don't have to talk to him."

'Would he even consider talking to me?' Joe thought to himself. He secretly wanted to see how the other two played live anyway; this would be a good way to check out the competition. "Yeah, OK. Call me and let me know when."

Joe mentioned the show to Billie just as a passing thought. He just said that sometime that he and Brad were going to the show. She seemed OK with it. Then he got the date from Brad; he was uncertain of how that would go over. It was on St. Valentine's Day. He was planning on having a romantic dinner for her, but she insisted that he go off with Brad. She must have known how important this was to him. He was a little surprised at the fact she let him go. Elyssa wouldn't have.

It was a good show, not their best, but solid. He did really enjoy it, but he wished it were like the old days. Before the fame, drugs, and Elyssa crept into the picture. They should be up there. Why the hell weren't they up there?

The whole show also brought up his secret fears. He left the theater before Brad could talk him into going backstage. Before Steven could talk to him. He couldn't face him. He was afraid that Steven would just completely blow up.

He was afraid that Steven knew he didn't need him anymore.

Maybe he wasn't as good as everybody said he was. He never really thought he was all that great of a guitarist. Brad was way fucking better. He was always afraid that Steven would finally see the truth: See who was the real lead. Maybe that's why he slept with him just to get on Steven's good side-job security.

No. That wasn't why.

That was another entire fear. He never had been in a sexual relationship with another man. Steven was his first and only. He never understood just how Steven manipulated him the way he did, but he did.

He knew that he didn't love Steven that way anymore. He was madly in love with Billie. She was everything Elyssa wasn't, and that was good. He could lean on her-she supported him; she had faith in him. She was so wonderful, she had never even heard of Aerosmith. God he loved that.

What if Steven saw him and wanted to pick up where they had left off? He could jeopardize his future with Billie: He knew that he would marry her someday. Someday when he was rid of Elyssa. Someday when he'd straighten out his life, his finances. He just wanted Billie. Maybe they could have some sort of future together.

He didn't know what to say when Steven called Billie and invited them to his hotel for a party. He went into the living room and watched TV, mulling it over. He finally made up his mind. No, he wouldn't go. He couldn't face all those fears at once. Alice Cooper had been talking to him about writing some songs. Maybe this was a new beginning-maybe this songwriting would go over and maybe he could play in that band, get some shit straightened out.

Maybe he should just forget Aerosmith and go in this direction; yeah, forget the past and forge ahead. He wouldn't go to Steven's party-that would make everything so much harder. Let those sleeping dogs lie.

He went into the kitchen, he figured that Billie could call and explain for him. "I don't think I'm gonna go to Steven's party." Joe said as he watched Billie making Aaron's lunch.

"What?" She looked at him in disbelief. "Joe I already told them you were coming!"

"I just think it you know would be a bad thing to do."

"Well I want to go. I want to see these people I've heard about."

He remained silent, watching her cut all the crust off the sandwich.

"Besides, they're serving oysters. I like oysters."

"Do they," He began as he wrapped his arms around her, "Make you horney?"

She giggled. "If we go, you'll find out."

He cleared his throat, getting her to giggle louder. He thought about it. He had realized that a big problem with Aerosmith was Elyssa. Now she was gone. Maybe that would help.

Besides, he couldn't get her to change her mind-Billie wanted to go: Case closed. "OK, I'll go."

As they went inside, he silently prayed that Steven would like Billie. Not enough to take her away, but enough that she (and maybe he) would be welcomed into the Aero-extended family.

Tom looked over and saw Joe coming in. He hoped that the plan would work: he would talk to Steven and help him; help all of them out. He was happy to see him, but there was that gnawing anger, too. He left them; he took away Brad. He made their lives a living hell for the past five years, but he knew that he couldn't jeopardize all their hard work.

Tom put on his happy face and went over to his old friend. "Joe," he gave him a hug. "How have you been?"

"Tom it's great to see you." He broke away. "This is Billie."

"Hi Tom." She shook his hand. "Joe's told me a lot about you."

"Oh no!" Tom exclaimed. "Give me a chance to explain-"

Billie laughed. "Oh Tom."

Joe smiled. That went well. "Brad and Karen here yet?"

"Yeah somewhere. And Joey called, they're on their way. They'll be glad to see you here."

Joe looked around the room; he knew a few, but not many. His eyes locked onto Steven-holding a beer, he looked puffy and tired. He was talking to this cute blond with a nice ass. Just then he looked up and saw Joe looking at him.

Tom saw the way the two of them looking at each other: Just standing there both afraid to make the first move. Christ they were both so goddamned stubborn! He motioned to Billie. "Come on, I want you to meet my wife Terry."

He introduced Billie to Terry, but he watched Joe and Steven. A few onlookers were waiting to see the fireworks, too. Joe finally walked over to Steven. So far so good. A few brief words then a hug. Great.

"Oh hey, looks like things are turning around." Terry cooed. Her eyes watched the Toxic Twins as well. They both came closer to them.

"Steven I wanna introduce you to Billie." Joe put his arm around her. "Billie, this is Steven Tyler."

"Hey Billie," Steven wrapped himself around her, "So your keeping Joe in line?"

"Oh yeah. I try." Joe was glad to see them break apart. "Nice to meet you Steven."

"My girl's around here somewhere." Steven looked around, "Hey Teresa!" He motioned. The little blond came over. "This is Teresa Barrick. Teresa this is Joe and Billie."

"Hi, glad you could come. Brad and Karen are over here." She looked around then motioned to the door, "And that's Joey and his wife, April."

"Hey Joe, can I talk to you?" Steven nervously rubbed his nose. "Alone?"

"Sure." Joe tried to stay calm. He silently hoped that Steven wasn't gonna fly off the handle. He followed him through a closed door.

It was a darken room; Joe could tell that it was a bedroom. He waited for the lights to turn on; he was beginning to get a little nerved up-standing there in the dark. He felt Steven's hands caress his back.

"Oh Joe-Joe." Steven's fingers moved slowly over his shoulders. "Baby I've missed you."

Joe turned around quickly.

"I really missed you." Steven continued breathlessly. "You didn't miss me?"

"Well yeah, I missed you. How are you doing, really?"

Steven shrugged. "OK." He wrapped his arms around him, and put his head onto Joe's chest. "But now everything's gonna be great cause your back. Everything's gonna work out. You'll make it work Joe-Joe."

"I feel a lot of pressure here." Joe said numbly.

"You'll feel more pressure than that." He tightened his hold.

Joe was afraid to move; this wasn't going as smoothly as he hoped for. He knew Steven was out of it; so much so that he wouldn't listen to reason-he had to be shown.

Joe took Steven's head and gently moved it closer to his, he slowly kissed Steven on the lips. No tongue nothing radical-just a gentle kiss. He broke away and looked at Steven.

He was frowning, "Joe, I-" He pulled away. "I don't understand what just happened here." He flicked on the light and sat on the edge of the bed. He was lost, still frowning at the floor. "I've been thinking about you a lot. Sometimes, the only thing that kept my sanity was the memories I made with you. I've been praying for this moment for a long, long time, and now-" He broke down and cried in his hands. "I just don't get it. I wanted this so bad for so long and I didn't feel-"

Joe sat down beside him and put his hand on his shoulder. "Do you love Teresa?"

"Yeah I do. She loves me even though I'm a complete asshole." He wiped his eyes, "I'd do just about anything for her."

"I love Billie. You know, I never thought I'd ever actually seriously consider getting married again, but I really want a future with her."

Steven remained silent for a minute, "So we don't need each other anymore?"

"I guess so." Joe nodded, "But part of me will never stop loving you."

"Same here." Steven sighed, "Fuck I feel so stupid." He moaned.

"Don't." Joe brushed the incident aside.

"No, I was gonna try and win you back. Try to get you to come back in the band."

It was like an electrical shock went through Joe: Steven wanted him back in the band!

"I guess that's impossible now." Steven continued.

Joe's heart sank. Fuck! He would have to carry on with Steven just to get back in? He couldn't do that to Billie. He had to know-no more beating around the bush. "Could I come back?" He finally asked. "Back into Aerosmith?"

Steven blinked. "You mean you would be willing to come back?"

"Well yeah." Joe tried not to sound too desperate. "Me and Brad were talking about it. You know sort of a 'Wouldn't it be great to be back with them.' thing."

"Really? Brady too?" Steven asked excitedly.

"Yeah." Joe silently frowned: BRADY? Steven had a pet name for Brad? Oh God... Joe-Joe, Tommy and Brady. He got three of the four of them. "Um, Steven, this is a little outta line."

"What?"

"Did you, you know?"

"What?"

Joe was uneasy in asking him, but he had to know the truth before he got into this too deep. He didn't want to have to resign again at a later date. "Did you fuck all of us?"

Steven bristled a bit. "Like I said before, I don't kiss and tell. Would you want me going around and telling them what shit we used to pull off?"

"No," Joe said slowly, he was hoping not to cross him. "I've never heard you call Brad 'Brady', that's all."

Steven sniffed, "I didn't realize I said 'Brady'." He shrugged and fiddled with his ring. "Yeah well, we had a good time one night." He shrugged again.

"And Joey?"

Steven looked at him, "I'll never admit to this again. I used to call Joey 'Thumper'. God he's got great rhythm on and off the stage. Nobody knows; I'm not sure if he even remembers. He was really, really wasted."

Joe took a deep breath. This would be a conversation that would stay out in the memory banks. "I won't tell, actually I'm honored that you told me about them."

"Tom only knows about you cause he saw us-he doesn't know about the other times. Nobody knows about each other. They were all just flings, nothing too serious. They weren't as deep as you were. You were." He made a deep-throated grunt.

"God you're a whore." Joe teased.

Steven smiled and pulled his shirt shut. "I prefer 'sexual deviant'." He got up and silently looked at him. "Hey I got something for you."

Steven went to the dresser. He slowly pulled out a plastic bag. He looked at it, then at Joe. He walked to him and presented it to him. "Here."

Joe frowned as Steven motioned for him to take the bag out of his hands. "What is it?" He asked as he finally took it.

Steven sat back down as he explained. "Remember when we were together, when Tommy, I mean Tom caught us?"

"How could I forget that?" Joe opened the bag and pulled out the contents. "It's just a black tee shirt." He said almost in shock.

"It's your shirt, the one you were wearing that night. I took it, while you were gone talking to him. I wanted it so I could remember you."

Steven ran his fingers over it one last time. "It's been with me on every trip, on every move. I've lost almost everything else, but I always managed to keep this."

"Really?" He looked at the hem; yeah it was his-he remembered the strange bluish stain that was on it. He folded it back up. "I was wondering what happened to it. I just figured it didn't get packed up."

"It was really precious to me. It was more important than anything else I owned."

"Was?"

"Got you back now, I don't need this. You can have it back-"

"Steven I mean it, really, I don't love you like that anymore-"

"I know. I feel the same way. When I say I got you back, I mean I can talk to you, we can write songs together again. It'll be great Joe. We're gonna be bigger than ever."

It was a good party; Joe really enjoyed talking to Joey and April again. It didn't seem like five years had past at all. He caught up on everybody's families and he showed them pictures of Adrian. He was glad that Billie made him go.

Now he sat on his bed, looking at the black shirt. He didn't really know what to make of it. It touched him how Steven had kept it for so long. He didn't doubt Steven's story; he remembered being pissed off at losing it. It was a lucky shirt for him; he liked to wear it and get good vibes for the show.

Billie walked in; he looked briefly at her then back at the shirt.

"I thought it went pretty good tonight. Teresa seems nice."

"Yeah."

"Steven is really a funny guy," She continued. "They all seem great."

"Yeah they are."

She finally looked at him and sat down. "What's with the shirt?"

"Steven gave it to me; he took it from me years ago. He gave it back tonight." He hoped she didn't as why he had taken it.

"Why did he take it in the first place?"

He really didn't want to tell her about the events that occurred in that hotel. "He wanted something to remember me by."

"Aww." Billie put her hand on his shoulder, "He's a sweet guy."

"Yeah." Joe nodded slowly. He felt Billie nibble on his ear, "How were the oysters?"

"You'll find out."