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U Belong 2 Me, Too! (Twisted_iN_Tux and AllThingsCuddly)

Matt was tired. No, actually, he was exhausted beyond words, probably the most he'd been in quite a long time, but the situation called for him to stay the course, to be as readily available as he could be, because one of his nearest and dearest friends was being dragged through the lowest depths of hell.

To have Drake lose one sibling, in such a shocking and horrific way, long before his time, would've certainly been enough of a reason to remain by his side, but to then lose Cade under the false pretense that he was the one who had committed the very crime, had murdered poor Hunter in cold blood, well, that was just too much for one person to handle on their own. Add to all of this the kidnapping and subsequent torture of Rick, and you had the perfect recipe to push someone - quite obviously Drake at this point - so far over the edge and then into the deep end of despair, that he would probably never return on his own.

Yeah, there was no way he was going anywhere, anytime soon. Matt would be here for as long as Drake needed him to be, no questions asked.

Taking a seat across from Samuel, after Drake excused himself, Matt regarded his friend's, equally exhausted assistant with a sympathetic expression. He genuinely felt bad for the man, seeing that he too had no other choice than to weather this unexpected storm. Granted, what was happening here didn't exactly fit into most job descriptions that Matt was familiar with - not even one for such a high-profile position as his - so if he had wanted to pack up his things and go, he certainly had every right to, but he couldn't actually see Samuel doing such a thing.

Like Matt, the man was unwaveringly loyal, and would probably remain so until the bitter end, whatever and whenever that may be.

Merely nodding his heavy head in agreement, as it was acknowledged that he was being such a good friend, Matt would've said the same about Samuel, had he been given the chance, but, instead, he sat and listened as the weary man continued to ramble on, without pause, uttering something he had absolutely no right to divulge, regardless of the unusual times they were currently living in.

"Excuse me?" Matt found himself questioning Samuel, as he sat a bit more upright in his seat, with a look upon his face that fell somewhere between surprise and utter confusion. "What exactly are you implying?" he was about to inquire; however, before he could, the man made every effort to shove that proverbial cat back into its bag.

What...what exactly is he saying? Matt's mind began to race, as he felt his pulse begin to quicken as well. Is he...is he saying that Drake has...has feelings for me? Something more than just a brotherly sort of love? However, just as Matt was about to press Samuel to clarify his words, the very topic of conversation returned, looking even worse for wear.

"I...I thought you were going to go lie down?" Matt questioned his friend, his friend that he couldn't help but look at differently now, the longer he kept his eyes upon him.

Samuel has to be mistaken, was all he kept telling himself, as he stood up and met the overtired man halfway, since it looked like he was on the verge of passing out. He just has to be.

However, just as these thoughts quickly played through his mind, the man, his friend - the one whom he had known for years and had never once been given the impression that something more was going on between the two of them - gently grasped the sides of his head and proceeded to plant a kiss on each of his cheeks, before wishing him, "Sweet dreams."

"Go," he then prompted him, with a gentle push and a wave of his hand back towards his private cabin, as he pulled away. "I'm unable to fall asleep, but the amenity shouldn't go to waste. Go. Go rest your weary head. I insist."

Unable to fully process what had just happened - first Samuel's confession and then Drake's ironically-timed, rather intimate gesture - Matt actually took his friend - That's all we are, isn't it? - up on the offer, so that he could do exactly that. A bit of space would probably do him good, so that he could get his thoughts and, to be quite honest, his feelings in order, but before he made a move in that general direction he watched as Drake did something even more unexpected.

He offered to not only fetch Samuel a fresh cup of coffee, but he...

Offered to give him a massage?

Pausing in the doorway of Drake's private cabin, Matt listened in as his friend - whom he barely recognized at this point - proceeded to openly acknowledge that Samuel was "feeling rather tense in the shoulders," as he placed both of his hands upon his assistant's still seated form. "Lord knows you've done so much for me, over these last few days," he then heard him say, as he literally began to work the man's muscles through his crisp, suit jacket, "that this is the least I can do, to show my appreciation."

Tired. We're all just overtired, Matt then told himself, as he finally managed to pull away from the offbeat, Freaky Friday sort of scene that was unfolding before him. We're tired and not thinking clearly. That's all. Nothing more.

But as he proceeded to settle himself down upon the plush, king-size bed, he couldn't help himself from thinking, no, from hoping that what Samuel said was one hundred percent true, because if that were indeed the case, it would mean that he and Drake could be so much more to each other, just like he had repeatedly fantasied, practically from the day that they first met.
 
Samuel just shook his head at Matt. "I'm sorry. I can't... I've already said too much, just pretend-" He cut off as the door into the private cabin opened and he jumped slightly, suddenly nervous. Had Drake heard what he said and come to tell him off?

As Matt walked towards the man, Samuel hunched down in his chair, listening. There was something off with Drake's voice. Looking over his shoulder he saw Drake... Kiss Matt on the cheek? Yes, and then on the other one. It was... Well it was a thing Drake never did.

Shit, he'd made up that bit about Drake liking Matt to get under the man's skin but could it be real? Then Drake said something that made Samuel's eyebrows arch upward. The man was allowing Matt to use his private cabin to rest? Jealousy spiked through him. Never had Drake made that offer for Samuel.

Shifting forward a little to sit on the edge of his seat, he watched as Drake moved closer. "Sir, since you can't sleep, would you like me to fix you a drink or some food perhaps? I could..." He trailed off, however, when to his astonishment Drake was asking him, Samuel if he'd like another coffee? "Uh... Sure?" He responded in confusion, his answer more of a question. "I, uh...take it with a single spoon full of sugar and no cream..."

To his utter dismay, and quite honestly a bit of amusement, he watched Drake make his way to the small kitchen and make a cup of coffee. It was such a mundane act it seemed out of place for the man.

When he returned, Samuel was still sitting at the edge of his seat, nervously watching Drake. What had gotten into the man? "Thank you." He said as he took the cup of coffee, though he didn't drink it yet. Without cream it would be quite hot so he just gently blew on the black liquid.

Just when he thought things couldn't get any weirder, he felt Drake's hands on him.

Holy. Shit. Drake... Was touching him? What the fuck?

Slowly he turned his head to look up at the large man. Samuel had always felt small in comparison to Augustus and that hadn't changed when he started working for the Valentines. All the brothers - yes even the late Hunter - were taller than Samuel. Drake might not have been as monstrously huge as his brother Rick but at this moment, feeling his large hands on his own much more slender shoulders was intimidating.

His first, immediate thought was that somehow Drake had discovered that Samuel was working with the kidnappers and had helped to snare Rick in his trap and now the man was going to strangle him. Surely that's why he sent Matt away!

But no...

As the man remarked he was feeling tense in the shoulders and started actually massaging them, Samuel felt more tense, not less. "Uh, yeah... My chiropractor says that's where I carry most my stress..." He said, not really sure what else to say in regard to the matter. He'd been seeing a chiropractor for years but didn't get in as much as either he or the man would prefer. Working an average of 80 hour work weeks did not leave much time for anything else.

Had Drake finally, fully snapped? Samuel couldn't remember a single time that Drake himself had offered him a drink, let alone fetched it for him. Now he was massaging his shoulders? Was it the stress of losing Hunter? Maybe losing his most beloved brother had made him realize how much he neglected the other people in his life?

Whatever the reason, it was weird to Samuel but he allowed himself to relax and enjoy it while it lasted. For all he knew, the man would revert back to his selfish self any minute.

"Drake... Are you... Well I wanna ask if you're okay, but I know you're not. No one could be with what you're going through, but.. Well, you've never done anything like this before." He finally admitted, arching his back slightly under the ministrations of the older man and feeling a few pops in his back.

Fuck. The more Drake worked over his back, the more he realized how sore he was. He'd been aware of his tiredness but his shoulders carried so much stress he was accustomed to it and tended to put it to the back of his mind. With the massage, it brought it to the forefront of his mind and made him aware of all the aches.

Reaching over, he set the coffee on the table beside the chair to prevent himself from spilling it all over his lap. After setting down the coffee, he lifted his hand to his mouth and yawned wide.

That was it. That had to be it. He was so tired he had fallen asleep in the chair and was dreaming. Yes. That was the only explanation for why Drake would be acting so far out of the norm.

The feeling of his phone vibrating in his pocket made him aware that this couldn't be a dream. His hand went to his slacks and pressed a button on the side of the phone through the pants. "It's my personal phone." He muttered, in case Drake had noticed. "It can wait. I'm on the clock." Though even as he said it, he wondered what was going on. Only one person had his personal number and there was no reason Augustus would be reaching out to him right now, right? Unless...

It made him want to laugh. That explained it! All of it, from the kiss on Matt's cheek, to fetching Samuel a drink and now this massage. James must have called Drake on his personal cell phone while he'd been in the other room! What were his orders though, had he specifically been told to give him a shoulder rub or was it just 'be extra nice'?

He wouldn't want to push the man too far, but he was rather interested in testing to see what his orders were. So, casually he made a comment of, "I don't think we've eaten anything since breakfast this morning... I know I haven't at least. I think I'll get myself something to eat. Would you like me to fix something for you, Sir?" It was something the usual Samuel would do, think of Drake even as, or even before, thinking of himself. Though if his hunch was right, Drake would probably offer to make the food himself.
 
Upon hearing Samuel's comment about being hungry, Drake was quick to disengage himself from the massage so that he could fetch him a snack. He should've seen this coming, should've known that the man would have such a need, seeing that - just as he stated - they hadn't eaten since this morning.

Already, he was failing in his duties.

"No, please, allow me," he said, as he removed his hands from the man's shoulders, only after giving them a firm push back down. "You look far too relaxed now," he added, which he knew was a lie, seeing that his assistant seemed just as tense as when they started, if not even more so. "Besides, I'm already up," he capped his comments off before ducking into the nearby galley-style kitchen.

Looking around the small space, Drake felt like an absolute fool. He didn't know where anything was. The coffee had been easy, because Samuel had already started himself a pot, but preparing something new was beyond his level of expertise. Thankfully - or, perhaps, regretfully, depending on your point of view - his cell began to vibrate. For a moment, he would have a reprieve.

Or would he?

Bringing the device to his ear, as he began to open cupboards, just to get a feel for what their options were, he stopped himself short as Rick's kidnapper started in on him.

"So far so good, Drake. Although, when you fetched the coffee, you probably should've brought a snack with it, but, we'll allow such a minor transgression. I mean, Samuel wouldn't have missed such a basic detail, but, you're not him, are you? You're just a helpless little boy who needs everything done for him and handed to him, on a silver platter. Isn't that right, Drake?"

"I said, ISN'T THAT RIGHT?!"

"Y-yeah. You're right," Drake reluctantly agreed, with a roll of his eyes, as he could feel his face flush red.

"There we go. Was that really so hard? Admitting your shortcomings or, better yet, that you're nothing more than a selfish screwup, is the first step to becoming a better person, Drake. Don't ever forget that. It's a valuable lesson you Valentine boys really should've been taught years ago. Especially Cade. Anyway. To make up for this little misstep, I want you to remove both your vest and your tie. You're far too buttoned up for my taste. After those are discarded, I want you to undo no less than three of those buttons on that fitted shirt of yours. You have a nice body, Drake, you should really show it off more often."

Rolling his eyes skyward and shaking his head in disbelief, Drake refrained from expelling the sigh he wanted to as he began to undo his vest.

How far was this going to go? How far was he willing to go?

At this point, he needed to follow his self-inflicted mantra of 'Whatever it takes!' or run the risk of never seeing his brothers ever again. Besides, was he really being asked to do anything that outrageous or dangerous? So he had to prepare a snack and flash some skin? So what? He could do both of these things with ease. God knew it was better than what his brothers had had to endure, and would continue to, if he himself didn't fully cooperate.

"That's it. Just one more," he then heard the voice on the other end of the line instruct him as he was now unbuttoning his shirt, exposing a sizable portion of his smooth, well-built torso. "Perfect. Now. Before you head on back to tend to Samuel's needs, I need you to check in on Matt. Oh, and, when you do, I want you to run at least one of your hands through that lovely head of hair of his. Two, no, three tender passes will do."

"Until next time!"

Pulling the terminated cell away from his face, Drake let slip that heavy sigh from earlier.

How on earth was he going to pull this off? The pecks on the cheek had been relatively easy, totally played off as some sort of endearing gesture, not unlike the sort of move a European would make when sending a loved one off to bed, but...but this? This was taking things to another level, one that Drake was going to have a hard time explaining, if he had to.

Which, maybe he didn't.

Making his way inside the dimly lit cabin, Drake was relieved to see that his friend was passed out. Furthermore, because of the way he was sprawled across the bed, his head was actually resting near the very edge, closest to where he was standing. Approaching, as quietly as he could, he wasted no time in extending his hand so that he could trace the tips of his fingers through the man's surprisingly soft, almost silk-like hair.

One.

Two.

Th...Fuck!

Just as he was about to make a third pass, Matt stirred. Waiting for him to resettle himself, Drake took a deep breath, held it, and then reached out to make his final move; however, just as his hand made contact, just as his fingers dipped inside the lustrous locks, he awoke! Withdrawing his hand as quickly as possible, Drake watched as Matt's brilliant blue eyes fluttered open and then focused on him. With a look of confusion on his face, he then sat up, sort of halfway, so that he could rest his elbow on the bed and his head on his hand.

"Everything okay?" he questioned Drake, as his eyes suspiciously trailed up and down the carved lines of his uncharacteristically exposed chest.

"Uh, yeah," Drake was quick to reply as he took a seat on the end of the bed, knowing full well that he still had one pass to make. "I...I'm sorry if I woke you up," he then noted as he leaned in a bit closer, "but, I was just about to make us something to eat and...and I was wondering if you'd care to join us?"

Now. Just do it now.

"Ha! Just look at you," he then quickly remarked, with a chuckle, not giving Matt a chance to reply or even react as he brought his hand up and brushed several locks back from his friend's forehead, taking the time to neatly tuck them behind his ear as he did. "I don't think I've ever seen you looking this disheveled."

"I could say the same to you," Matt remarked, with a sleepy smile on his lips, but a twinkle in his eyes, as he brought his free hand up so that he could trace a finger along the line of Drake's very open shirt, nearly touching the exposed skin of his chest that sat just beyond the generous opening.

"Oh, uh, yeah. It...it was getting a little warm in the kitchen," Drake blurted now as he was quick to pull away and then remove himself from the bed, practically stumbling over his own two feet as he did. "So, uh, yeah. If you're hungry, come on out in a few," was all he stated, before quickly slipping himself back out of the cabin, only to return to the kitchen, feeling more than a little shaken.

Jesus. What on earth just happened back there? What was that look in his eyes? his mind whirled with these questions, as he made every effort to throw himself into the task of making the worst sandwiches possible. "Sam?" he somehow managed to call, as he pulled himself together and then began to pull together the necessary ingredients."Do you prefer mayo or mustard with your ham?"

Just...remain calm, he told himself as he waited for the reply. Calm, cool, and collected. That's the Valentine way.
 
Bingo! Whatever James had told Drake to do must involve making sure Samuel's needs were tended to. The man was quick to firmly push him back down and tell him to relax, he'd get the food. That was perfect. "You sure?" He questioned, even as he settled back into his chair.

Leaning forward a little, since his back was to the small Galley kitchen, he watched Drake make his way back along the plane to the small room that counted as a kitchen. It was small, but Samuel had made sure it was well-stocked. It was a long flight after all. He had even made sure to bring along some chocolate truffles, as well as a few other choice treats since he had quite the sweet tooth. Was that something Drake had noticed over the years? How well did Drake know his personal assistant? Samuel could tell you what color underwear Drake was wearing, but he doubted his employer could so much as guess Sam's favorite color.

Once the man was out of sight he pulled out his personal phone and opened the message from Augustus. It was under one of many aliases. If Drake or anyone else were ever curious enough to take his personal phone and look at it, they would think he had regular communications with an assortment of a dozen people but they were all Augustus. They wanted to make it seem as though Sam still had some distant friends and relatives he communicated with. In truth, he did but with yet another phone.

[Hey Buddy. So I was wondering if you're going to the game next week. I'd love to trade places with you if you aren't! Let me know.]

Trading Places. So that was the game. Drake was to act like Samuel's assistant for the day. Oh, now that was brilliant. This was going to be a much more fun flight than he had anticipated.

He replied with, [What, you get nosebleed seats again? You can trade me, I won't be going.] It was mostly nonsense, just meant to let Augusuts know that he had received and understood the message.

The exchange was a discrete code from Augustus but easily explained away. Samuel bought yearly seasonal tickets to pretty much every national sport and always paid extra to ensure he had good seats. He hardly, if ever, went himself but there were a lot of sports fans out there and placing a pair of good seats in their hands went a long way to grease their palms. It was just one of many ways that Samuel traded favors among the elite. Everyone just assumed that he was doing it on Drake's behest but in reality he did that one in particular with his own money. Still, ther had been more than one occasion where he had bailed Drake out of a sticky situation with the favors he traded.

As he was sliding his phone into his pocket again, he heard Drake speaking. Who was he talking to? Leaning he looked over towards the galley but all he could see was the man's stiff back.

An idea occurred to him so he pulled out his personal phone and opened the app that allowed him to listen in on Drake's phone. The man didn't know Sam could do that or he probably would have put an end to it. It had come in handy a time or two though.

"...you're nothing more than a selfish screwup..." That was James's voice alright.

He pulled out his personal phone and opened up the security feed for the jet, which he knew James was watching right now. He watched Drake in the galley, flushed red as he slowly started to to exactly what James said. Samuel grinned at the orders regarding Matt. Poor guy wouldn't know what hit him.

After James hung up, Samuel focused all his attention on the camera feeds as Drake moved the short distance from the galley to the private cabin.

Sitting there watching and listening to James's demands had Samuel wanting to burst out laughing. He lifted his right hand to his mouth and gently bit his knuckle to stop himself from letting out any of his mirth.

It wasn't until Drake was back in the galley that Sam closed the camera feeds on his own and tucked it away, just in time to hear Drake.

"A ham sandwich?" He muttered under his breath in the direction of one of the microphones he knew was nearby. "His brother's life is on the line and the best he can do is a ham sandwich?" He rolled his eyes and shook his head, knowing James and Augustus would hear and see him. It was a little strange to know he was being watched.

"Mayo, thanks!" He called back to Drake. The dark, twisted side of him wanted to make Drake find some else, something better than a damn ham sandwich, but the lowly assistant was just happy his boss had taken it upon himself to make food and wouldn't complain. It was hard being two people sometimes.

He could see the man's back as he started to make his way back but then Drake paused in the doorway of the small kitchen and disappeared again.

Opening the app to listen in on Drake's phone call again, he heard James's voice again.

"...Really? That's the best you could come up with? Figures. I can't expect a pretty boy like you to know how to cook, now can I? It will do, for a start. Though it is quite lacking. I think... Yes, I believe I saw some strawberries in the fridge, yes? Open it back up."

"That's a good boy. Now, pull out those strawberries, wash them and cut off the tops, get that whipped cream... Oh and those grapes too. Yes. Perfect. Oh, and what wonderful timing! Here comes your sleeping beauty."

Samuel leaned foward and glances back to see the private cabin door opening with Matt stepping out.

"Invite both your guests to join you on that oversized leather monstrousity you call a couch... And hand feed both of them the strawberries, cream and grapes like a good little house bitch."

Just like that, the line went dead again, no good bye this time.

Once again Sam had to press his fist to his lips to stop himself from laughing. Oh God, this was going to be hilarious. Drake hand feeding him and Matt? Ha!
 
Think, Drake, think. How are you going to...?

Wait. That’s perfect! he quickly convinced himself, as his eyes played over a random image he had pulled up on his phone, an image of his dearly departed brother, on the French Riviera, enjoying...

Thank you, Hunter.

Finishing up in the kitchen, Drake actually felt fairly good about the impromptu luncheon he had managed to pull together and how he was going to handle his next task.

The sandwiches actually looked rather elegant and inviting. Granted, when working with such high-end ingredients, how could they not? Samuel only ever stocked thee absolute best of everything. So, quite naturally, the bread he had used looked like it had just been bought in a pâtisserie, and the meats and cheeses were of the finest quality, hand-carved by a skilled butcher and hand-crafted by a professional cheesemonger. The tomatoes and lettuce were as ripe and as fresh as they could be, and Drake had managed to shred and slice them just-so, so that they didn't look too unruly on the finished product. Even the condiments were of a top-shelf variety, so it wasn't just a plain old mayo and mustard that he used, but actually a creamy aioli and a spicy Dijon, more than likely imported from some posh, European market.

As for the most recent additions to his now picnic-style presentation, well, he was able to slice and then present the strawberries in an artistic manner that even impressed him, due mostly in part to a handy little gadget that he assumed his assistant used quite often himself. As for the cream and grapes, each ended up in a glass bowl, ready to be served.

Ready to be served, he inwardly agreed, after taking a deep breath, as he went about arranging the plates and bowls on a tray. Hand to mouth, nonetheless, he then thought, as he lifted it and exited the kitchen, looking like some cheap, cabana boy with his shirt undone as it was.

"Gentlemen," was all he said, as he passed by Samuel and Matt, who were once again sitting across from one another, waiting for him.

Making his way towards the leather sofa, instead of the far more sensible dining table, Drake placed the tray upon the coffee table before it and simply waited for the two men to join him. Matt - looking a bit more pulled together now, seeing that his tousled hair had met a comb before departing from the private cabin - was the first to take a seat. As he settled in - and cast a sidelong glance at his friend and, specifically, his still very exposed pecs - Drake busied himself with his phone, pulling up the image from a moment ago. Once Samuel was seated, he then proceeded to take a very deep breath, one both of them could clearly hear, before launching into his hastily prepared speech.

"Gentlemen, I know that the last day and a half has been rather taxing for all of us, and I don't see the journey ahead becoming any easier, if anything, I see it becoming increasingly harder as we fall further down this twisted rabbit hole," he began, as he made eye contact with Matt and then Samuel, before returning his gaze to his phone. "So, if you'll be kind enough to indulge me, I thought that we could take a moment to remove ourselves from this madness, from all of this darkness, and, instead, we could celebrate a life and a light that was taken from us far too soon."

Passing his phone to Matt, the man simply nodded his head in agreement, as he took in the beautiful image of Hunter and several of his handsome friends from the industry, enjoying themselves on a sundrenched yacht, with a stunning Mediterranean backdrop behind them. In the candid photo, the youngest Valentine could be seen smiling his flawless, white smile as he sat with a glass bowl in his one hand and a piece of fruit in his other. In the captured moment, it was clear to see, that the clutch of men were truly having the time of their life, feasting with friends in a foreign locale, but doing so unabashedly, yet, in an undeniably intimate way.

"That...that was taken just a week ago," Drake explained, as he genuinely became choked up. "If you recall, Samuel, I was suppose to have been there with them, with him, but my relentlessly busy schedule just wouldn't permit it, so, as is...I mean, as was often the case, I...I let the poor kid down..."

"It's okay, Drake," Matt was quick to jump in, quick to move in closer, as he slid an arm around his friend's now slumped shoulders. "It's going to be okay," he repeated, as he now held his friend firmly in his arms.

"I just...I...I want to make certain that Hunter is never forgotten," Drake firmly stated now, as he slowly pulled away from his friend, but then quickly pulled himself together, "and, whenever possible, I want to live my life as he did, with a passion and a lust for it that's rarely seen."

Sitting up more straight now, Drake then proceeded to lean forward and gingerly take up the dish of fresh strawberries. Sitting back, he plucked one from the bowl and devoured it. Once consumed, he plucked another and then turned to Matt. Expecting him to take the bowl, because that would've been the more natural thing to do, his best friend, the one he could truly rely on in good times and bad, did exactly what he secretly hoped he would do.

He leaned forward, parted his shapely lips, and waited for Drake to feed him.

Jumping on the opportunity, he did exactly that. He fed Matt not just one, but two strawberries, going as far as to dip the second in the cream, before finally turning to Samuel.

Without any words spoken, Drake made a similar offering to his assistant, cream and all, and when it appeared that he wasn't going to participate - more than likely because their relationship had never even come close to entering such intimate territory - he simply said, "For Hunter," before bringing the offering even closer to his lips.
 
When Matt came and sat across from his, Samuel was messing with his phone but he knew Matt wouldn't find it suspicious or strange, Samuel was almost constantly on his phone. He had a Bluetooth earpiece in his ear as well - what he had been using to listen in on Drake's conversation - but it was such a commonly used piece it may as well have been an accessory to his suit.

"Drake is making food." Samuel commented quietly to Matt, not looking up from his phone. "If it weren't for the stress he's been under, I would think such an action were a sign of him snapping. Though under the circumstances, I think such a mundane task is helping him take his mind off... Well, everything." Now he looked up and fixed his eyes on Matt. The man looked bone-weary tired and yet oddly... eager? Well after the way Drake had kissed his cheeks and then woken him so sweetly, he couldn't blame the guy for thinking something might happen between him and Drake today.

As Drake walked back with the tray, he smiled at Matt before sliding his phone into his pocket before following the other two over to the U shaped sofa and intentionally sat further down from the others, setting his coffee on a coaster that he pulled out from the hidden compartment of the sofa. "You've really outdone yourself, sir." Samuel commented as he took in the carefully arranged tray. For a man that didn't do this for a living, it was impressive. Then Drake started to speak about Hunter and Samuel frowned slightly, bowing his head at the mention of the deceased man. Of all the Valentines, Hunter had been the only innocent one. The youth had not had his brothers ruthless, self-centered nature. He had been so much more warm and trusting. But that, in the end, had been his downfall.

Then Drake pulled up a picture of the younger Valentine and as he explained what it was, he knew what picture he had chosen without having to look at it.

Well played, Drake. Clever. Now it wouldn't seem out of place or suspicious for the man to be hand-feeding them.

He did, indeed, remember that trip. Samuel had been the one to ensure that at the last minute some sort of metaphorical fire had cause Drake to stay home instead of joining his brother. It had been important that Drake had remained home, if he had gone to meet Hunter, he would have been on the jet returning home with him and Hunter would never have diverted the jet to Las Vegas for his secret rendezvous with Mateo.

Then his employer picked up the bowl of strawberries and Samuel shifted unconsciously in his chair, actually shifting ever so slightly further from the larger man. Matt, on the other hand, seemed very eager. Samuel's dark eyes watched Matt and could see the hope there, the man was waiting to be hand fed by Drake. Was it one of his fantasies?

Not one, but two of the sweet fruit made it passed Matt's lips - a fact that Samuel noticed made the man smile - before Drake scooped up another, dipped it in the cream and then began to proffer it to his younger assistant. Instinctively, Samuel actually leaned away from the man as the fruit approached. As the man invoked Hunter's name, Samuel lifted a hand and gently pushed Drake's hand away from him, the back of Samuel's hand making contact with the back of Drake's hand.

"Thank you sir, but unless you intend for me to join Hunter, please get that away from me." He said and then glanced between the two men on the sofa with him. "I'm allergic to strawberries." He explained, eyeing the deadly fruit like it were a hovering blade so close at hand. He wouldn't expect Drake to know something like that.

Hah! Take that, Drake! He thought, as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It was actually quite true though, a fact that Augustus had made fun of him for many times. Samuel had prepared strawberries and strawberry dishes for Drake and his guests countless times. Fresh fruit was often highly desired. Samuel was always very careful in his preparations of that particular fruit though, using gloves whenever he needed to prepare them.

It left Samuel wondering if James had been instructed to pick the strawberries for that very reason, or if it had been a happy coincidence.

At his words, Samuel focused on Drake and saw a sudden change in the man's posture. What would happen if the man was unable to fulfill one of his tasks? Would James punish Rick because Drake couldn't follow through with his latest orders?

Taking a deep breath, as though wanting to indulge in the Hunter memorial, even if he couldn't eat the strawberries, he shifted a little closer and reached for the tray, picking up one of the green grapes. He nodded his own head towards the bowl of grapes and Drake seemed to understand. He returned the strawberry, cream and all, to the bowl and instead picked up a grape.

Reaching out, Samuel wrapped his own arm around Drake's arm so that he could feed Drake a grape at the same time that Drake fed him one.

After indulging in the hand-feeding and thus helping Drake fulfill his newest task, Sam had an idea. "Will you excuse me for just a moment?" Standing, he made his way to where he had stowed his laptop and he set it up on the entertainment stand across from the sofa. Working diligently with his back to Drake and Matt, pretending not to notice how eagerly Matt was taking a turn feeding Drake now, he typed away on the keyboard of his laptop.

A moment later, Samuel returned to the sofa with three flutes of wine and the tv began to play a slideshow of pictures. They were mostly of Hunter but occasionally one of the other Valentines was pictured when the facial recognition software he'd used to select the photos incorrectly selected one of them. Soft piano music also played, setting the mood.

Sitting beside the others, he offered each of them one of the flutes of wine and said, "To Hunter."

Even as he said it, Samuel focused his attention on Drake. The man had invoked Hunter's name to get them to indulge in the hand-feeding and now he would be bombarded with a quiet montage of his fallen brother. How would he handle it? Though as he locked eyes with the man, he had no way of knowing that Drake's phone was yet again vibrating, this time with a text message.

[How sweet. That loyal dog of yours is so far up your ass, he tastes everything before you do and you didn't even know he's allergic to strawberries? And look at that, he fetched you some wine. You will need to atone for your sins. I want you to get both men to join you in your... casualness. Convince both of them to lose their suit jackets and ties and loosen their tops. After all, this is a memorial for sweet little Hunter and who, if any, of the Valentines was more casual than Hunter?]
 
Feeling the fool for not knowing that his own assistant - a man whom he'd spent nearly every waking hour with for the last decade - was allergic to strawberries, Drake was quick to dispose of the lethal fruit, uttering a surprisingly sheepish "Sorry" as he did. Thankfully, Samuel didn't let the awkward exchange linger for too long. He was kind enough to simply move on to the other option that was available to him, which Drake was more than happy to serve him, as he'd been directed to do.

Task complete, he inwardly celebrated as he finished the grape in his own mouth, one that Samuel himself had fed him in return.

All in all, the luncheon was going rather well - almost too well, if Drake was being honest with himself - so he wasn't exactly surprised to see it take a sharp emotional turn as he was suddenly forced to watch an impromptu slideshow containing image after striking image of not only Hunter, but Cade, as well as Rick. It...it was actually painful to watch, so much so, Drake was on the verge of telling Samuel to shut it off just as his phone began to vibrate. Thankful for the distraction, he stepped away once more; however, upon doing so, he would find himself on the receiving end of yet another questionable task.

Taking a deep breath, as he ran a hand through his hair, Drake scrambled to figure out how he was going to accomplish it.

As far as he could tell, he now had Matt wrapped around his finger. The overly eager man seemed willing to do just about anything to make his friend happy. Samuel, on the other hand, was, well, Samuel, and while he too seemed inclined to do whatever Drake asked of him, this request was undoubtedly going to push the oft buttoned-up man well beyond his comfort zone, unless...

Returning to the two men, Drake sat for several minutes in silence, watching the dreadful, heart-wrenching show unfold, slide by slide, image by image, until, finally, the moment seemed right to speak up and get the ball rolling on his new duty.

"You know what I always admired about Hunter?" he more or less rhetorically asked the room, as his eyes remained fixed on the screen before him. "His casual, yet daring sense of style. No matter where he was or what he was doing, he always looked so damn comfortable, but in an utterly fashionable way. He was clever too. I...I remember this one time, he forgot to wear a belt, so instead of panicking, like any one of us probably would've, he literally took the tie from around his neck and fashioned it into one."

"Really?" Matt questioned, sounding a bit too excited by such a simple notion.

"He did! Do you remember that, Sam? I think you even commented at the time that only Hunter could pull off such a thing," Drake noted now, with a nod of his head, as he returned to his feet. "I, on the other hand, thought it was ingenious, and I believe I even remarked that if the event had been a public one, he would've single-handedly started a whole new trend."

"I wish I could've been there for that," Matt wistfully noted now, as he shifted closer to the edge of his seat. "I'm sure it was quite the sight to see."

"It was. It truly was," Drake agreed, playing in to his friend's somewhat expected enthusiasm, as he came to stand near Samuel. "He made it seem so effortless, too. Didn't he, Sam? I mean, I know I couldn't pull it off, but...but you certainly could. You do have the physique of a male model, after all, and you're so crafty, too, just like Hunter was," he was quick to remark, not giving his assistant much room to wiggle out from under the sudden flurry of compliments.

"Oh! You were there. You saw what he did," Matt suddenly blurted, as he too rose to his feet. "Would you show me?"

"Yes, that's a brilliant idea!" Drake chimed in, giving Samuel one of his pointed looks, a look that typically meant he had no choice in the matter, not unless he wanted to experience the wrath of a very upset Valentine.
 
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Samuel could see the way the slideshow was effecting Drake. Part of him enjoyed the man's pain, enjoyed watching him suffer through image after image of his beloved brothers. At any other time during his time with Drake, if he had seen that uncomfortable look on the man's face, he would do whatever it took to correct the situation. In this instance that would mean turning off the slideshow. Though there was a part of him that long to do so, there was another part that acknowledged that seeing these pictures was helpful to Drake, therapeutic. Hunter's death had been so sudden that the man hadn't fully had time to process or mourn. He wasn't being allowed to mourn his brother, withe the constant onslaught of orders. Then there was that smaller, darker side of him that enjoyed making Drake uncomfortable.

The luncheon continued with the three of them playfully - was that the right word? Clearly Matt was enjoying this, and Samuel found it amusing on some levels, but Drake seemed strangely uncomfortable about the whole ordeal - feeding each other. Matt and Drake now knew to avoid the strawberries for Samuel and to play it safe he avoided the cream as well instead focusing on the grapes and sandwiches.

When the silence was broken by Drake, he had a sort of cold, darkness to his voice. Sadness? Yes, that was it. The man was reminiscing about Hunter. This was, after all, an impromptu memorial service for the youngest Valentine. It was only a matter of time before stories would start to flow about the youth. Samuel hadn't known Hunter well. He spent more time with Drake and Rick but he had obviously met Hunter and Cade numerous times. So it was surprising that Drake was dragging him into the middle of the conversation regarding Hunter.

"Uh, yessir. I remember it." He commented, eying Drake wearily. Now what was the man playing at? "He was wearing a sort of cream tie with red and blue stripes so when he wore it as a belt, it somehow complemented the dark slacks he was wearing. It was the strangest thing I had ever seen him wear and yet it somehow fit him."

Drake hardly ever included Samuel in his conversations unless they were alone. Samuel was an accessory. He was a wall hanging. He was just there. If he needed Samuel to do something, he'd tell him to do something, but including him in mundane conversations that had little to nothing to do with work? Not unless they were alone and Drake needed someone to talk to.

Then things became even stranger. Drake moved closer to him, so close he expected the man's hand to come down on his shoulder in one of those camaraderie pats on the back. The hand never came down on his shoulder but he still felt oddly uneasy, especially when Drake began to complement him. He was crafty like Hunter, and had the physique of a male model? While it was true, those weren't words he ever expected to come out of Drake's mouth.

"Uh, yea." He said uncomfortably as Matt exclaimed that he was there. Then he looked between the two when they insisted that he show off what it was that Hunter had done. "Actually. I think I have a picture of that." He said but as he was about to get up to mess with his computer, he saw Drake staring at him with that look. The dark, 'I will skin you alive' look that he got when he wanted things done a certain way. Like that time that Samuel had mistakenly reversed the order of two of Drake's contacts in his address book. Alphabetically Samuel's way had been correct, but phonetically it was wrong.

That look told Samuel that Drake wanted him to show that 'style', not just a picture of it.

"Actually, it would be better if I showed you... It looks like I don't have much choice, doesn't it?" He asked good-naturedly and stood from his spot on the leather sofa. It wouldn't be the first time Drake had asked him to do unusual things. It wasn't even the first time the man had asked him to dress down. There was that one time when Drake had been at a party and another guest had accidentally spilled something on Drake. The man had been forced to remove his jacket and then he'd had Sam remove his as well, so as to be the only one under dressed.

The first thing his nimble fingers did was undo the buttons of his jacket. One undone he carefully folded the material and set it on the chair he'd been sitting in earlier in the flight. Then his hands undid his belt and pulled it off completely. This was where he felt a little odd, removing his belt in front of Drake and Matt? He knew he'd be doing much worse by the time they were at the club, but it still felt odd to him. Setting his designer belt down on the chair with his jacket, he then loosened and removed his tie. Carefully he threaded the silk material through his belt loops until the material circled his waste and he tied it in the front, just slightly off to one side so that the ends of the tie hung down over his right leg rather than hanging in front of his crotch like a loin cloth.

"Tada." He said a little uncomfortably, holding his hands out to the sides. Looking down at himself, he shrugged a little. "Well, he usually would do something like this too." Reaching down he unbuttoned the first three buttons of his shirt. "Hunter had a habit of showing off his pectorals whenever he could get away with it. He wasn't as ripped as Rick, I mean come on, who is as ripped as Rick? But Hunter took pride in his body. He was never ashamed of showing it off."
 
Watching Drake's assistant essentially get undressed, just a few feet away, Matt didn't stop himself from enjoying the little show.

Jesus. Just look at those pecs.

Truth be told, he'd been enjoying himself a little too much over the last few hours - especially given the dire circumstances that surrounded the three men - but how could he not relish in the sensation of wearing Drake's clothes, or the feeling of his lips on his cheek, or his hands in his hair? And then to learn that his friend of many years - his alarmingly handsome, ridiculously affluent friend - may actually have mutual feelings for him?! Well, that was certainly enough of a reason to not only openly and eagerly participate in such an intimate luncheon, but to also basically throw himself into the current scene that was unfolding before him.

He had practically begged to be shown Hunter's masterful use of his tie, so why shouldn't he follow Samuel's lead and give it a go himself? They had time to kill, and this was certainly a nice little distraction from their current plight. He knew the moment they touched down, reality would set back in, but for now, they were up here, among the clouds, acting like a bunch of playful teens, living life to the fullest, just as Hunter would've done.

Standing, Matt stripped off his own suit jacket and carefully set it upon the leather sofa that he'd just abandoned. Next came off his cashmere sweater, which revealed his own fitted dress shirt and neatly knotted tie. Thankfully, he and Drake were of a somewhat similar build, so the tailored clothes fit him rather well. While not as lean as Samuel, the two friends weren't exactly overly bulky either. If the desire had been there, they could've all had had a career similar to Hunter's.

Undoing his belt, without a moments hesitation, as if he often got undressed in mixed company - which, as an actor, he sometimes had to, as a sizable cast and crew typically looked on - he slid it out from around his narrow hips and added it to the growing pile on the sofa. After this, his tie quickly came undone, along with three buttons of his own, which revealed a very nice slice of his own smooth, tan torso.

"Okay. I'm almost there," he unnecessarily announced now as he began to work the accessory into the loops of his trousers, which hugged his ass and, uh, growing arousal perfectly.

Not caring in the least that his thickening manhood was starting to show, Matt finished up; however, just as he made an attempt to tie it off as Samuel had done, he struggled. Giving it another go, he failed yet again.

"Would you, uh, mind giving me a hand with this?" he finally asked of Drake's assistant, as he took a step closer, invading the man's personal space with ease. "I don't appear to have your knack for such things," he added, with one of his brilliant smiles, as he accidentally brushed his bulge against the side of Samuel's outer thigh.
 
It was obvious that Matt was getting excited by all this fun foreplay. Though Samuel was starting to wonder just how far James intended to push things right now. He had a feeling James had influenced the current change of events. Why else would Drake be encouraging both if his male compatriates to dress down? He needed to tell James to cool things down. He didn't want to ruin Drake here, in the privacy of his own plane. He needed Drake ready and primed for the club. That is where the real fun would begin.

His eyes watched Matt as he undid his jacket, then the sweater. There was no hesitation in him removing his belt either. He was all confidence. Samuel chanced at glance at Drake but he was difficult to read, as always.

It wasn't until Matt was approaching him that Samuel became weary again. Oh, he noticed the erection being ground against his thigh. Okay, so it was more of a light brush, but it certainly seemed intentional. Holy shit! Did Matt have the hots for him too? Just feeling the other man so close, breathing in his cologne - which was also actually Drakes - made Samuel's blood start to pump. He looked into the man's eyes then blinked and shrugged, trying to act natural. "Of course."

His hands wrapped around the ends of the tie and he looked into Matt's eyes again as his hands deftly looped the ends around each other. As he pulled the knot tight, he gave a sudden yank on the belt, pulling MAtt closer to him. At the same moment, he slid a leg forward. The result was Samuel's knee sliding delicately between Matt's legs, carefully pressing the man's growing erection more firmly against Samuel's leg without causing pain or discomfort.

Before Matt really had time to process what Samuel was doing, the assistant released the tie and instead reached up to grasp the fine silk of the man's shirt, pulling his chest closer as well as bringing his head down so that Sam could press his lips against Matt's lips. His tongue forced its way inside the man's mouth and he held the embrace for a long minute before he finally pulled back, face flushed.

Then it seemed as though he realized what he just did and he swallowed hard, looking between the two men. "Sorry. I don't know what came over me." He said breathlessly. "Will you, uh... Excuse me a moment?" His cheeks were flushed crimson as he forced his way between the other men to make his way to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

Once in the bathroom he splashed water over his face then dried his hands and pulled out his phone.

[Tell James to cool things down.] He said bluntly, not bothering with the hidden code.

[Only if you admit you liked that.] Augustus replied and Sam could imagine his friend laughing his head off at the show.

[Fuck. Yes. But we don't want to push Drake too far before the real show.]

[Fine, fine. James will cool things down.]

[Thank you.]

After sending his last message, he went through and deleted the short exchange. By the time he was done, he was feeling short of breath. He had thought that extricating himself from Matt and Drake would allow him a moment to cool down but if anything he felt worse.

He tucked his phone into his pocket and then looked at himself in the mirror. Were his lips slightly swollen? They were and his breathing was getting more difficult. Fuck. He hadn't felt this way since... "Oh fuck." He wheezed. Matt had been eating strawberries right before Samuel has assaulted him!

His hands roamed over his body before his eyes went wide. Panicking now, he opened the bathroom door and stumbled out into the hall, his breathing coming in short labored gasps now.

By the time he reached where Matt and Drake were still standing, his vision was starting to blur and black spots were appearing. He collapsed next to them, pulling his own jacket down on top of himself as he tried to find the EpiPen in the pocket.

Darkness fell before he could find the pen.

---

Augustus was still chuckling when he saw Samuel come bursting back out of the bathroom looking panicked. "What is he...?" But then he saw his red, swollen lips. "Shit. Damnit! Why the fuck did he have to kiss Matt after the man was eating strawberries?" He demanded and stood, watching Samuel stumble and fall, reaching for his EpiPen but unable to get to it in time.

"For fucks sake, do something you FUCKING ASSHOLE!" He screamed at the screen, watching Drake. "Make him to something. Fuck, just give me the phone." Augustus tried to take the phone from James but the man pulled it away.

"They'll save him. Don't worry. If you call though, they'll know he's important to us."

"Fuck! You're right." Augustus' hands clenched into fists and he watched, preying one of the men would be smart enough to find Samuel's EpiPen. He started counting. If he reached 60, he'd call and tell at Drake to save his friend, fuck the plan.

James watched Augustus. He hadn't seen the man this worried, well ever.

He composed a message to Drake.

[Oh my. He really wasn't joking about that strawberry allergy, was he? Don't just stand there. Do something you moron! I was having fun watching the show, can't have my toys going and dying on me! Looks like he got a little over eager. Perhaps it's time to cool things off for a while. Rest up. I'll have new orders soon.]
 
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All Matt had wanted was a helping hand, but instead, he suddenly found himself on the receiving end of a rather passionate kiss, one that included a probing tongue that wasted no time invading the depths of his all too willing mouth! Forgetting himself, for just a hot moment, he kissed Samuel back, and as he did, his erection grew rock solid against the man's thigh, which was neatly pressed against his groin; however, as quickly as the unexpected and steamy exchange began, it was over, and the suddenly flustered assistant was making a move to distance himself from Matt and what he'd just done.

"It's okay," he tried to reassure him as he dashed off. "It...it really is," he then blurted to Drake, who was standing nearby, somehow managing to look both confused and annoyed, all at the same time. "I mean, it would've been nice if he would've asked first...," Matt then mused, with a playful grin, as he attempted to make light of the situation but failed, for his friend was having none of it.

"His actions are unforgivable," Drake snarled, as he began to make his way towards the bathroom, only to find himself coming up short as Matt grabbed his arm.

"Drake, really, it's okay," he insisted now, as he gripped both of his shoulders and held him firmly in place.

"No. It's not!" Drake blurted a bit too quickly and a bit too loudly, almost as if he were...

"Drake?" Matt questioned now, as he struggled to make eye contact with his friend who was now avoiding his gaze. "What's wrong? I mean, besides the obvious. Something else is bothering you..."

"It's nothing," the man muttered, as he continued to avoid looking directly at him. "It's just..."

"What is it, Drake? You can tell me," Matt offered, in a gentle tone, as he finally managed to work himself into Drake's line of sight, softening his hold as he did. "Were you hoping to..."

...kiss me yourself? he was about to boldly ask, reasoning that he had feelings of his own that he had wanted to act on; however, before the words could form on his tongue, the bathroom door flew open and out came Samuel!

Pulling away from Drake, Matt watched, rather helplessly, as the surprisingly panic-stricken man proceeded to stagger along the hallway and then back into the cabin towards the two of them, gasping for air as he did. Something was wrong, horribly wrong, but he had no idea what, until he flung himself at the sofa, muttering something about needing a pen.

"Sam!" Matt suddenly shouted as he watched the man fall to the floor in a heap. "SAM?!" he called out, as he dropped to his knees next to the man's fallen form, gripping his shoulders once he was in place next to him. "He's not breathing, Drake!" he then blurted, as he looked up to his friend who...who was on his cell phone?! Jesus. Wh-what should I do? he then thought, as he returned his somewhat manic gaze to Sam's alarmingly still form, as Drake called for help.

CPR! his mind suddenly screamed.

Shifting Sam's unconscious form so that he could safely administer the lifesaving technique - which he had performed, quite literally, only once in his life on a studio set - Matt suddenly found himself being pushed aside as Drake joined them on the floor, brandishing what looked to be a needle!

Watching as he jammed it into Samuel's thigh, Matt suddenly felt the plane pitch and start to spin, just before he...

---

Coming to, the first thing that Matt saw was the concerned face of his friend, floating just a foot or so above him. He...he looked so...worried? No. Wait. Relieved. That was definitely a look of relief taking shape on his handsome face as Matt came to.

"What...what happened?" he asked in a soft voice, as he tried to sit up. "Did I...?"

"Yeah," Drake confirmed, as he gently pushed him back down, feeling no need to elaborate on the fact that he had passed out upon seeing him administer Samuel's medicine. "Good news, thou. You're both going to live," he then offered, with a wave of his hand, which brought Matt's attention to the assistant's body, which was peacefully resting in the bed next to him, his partially exposed chest rising and lowering as it should.

"Oh...," was all Matt could say, as he came to realize that they were in Drake's private cabin, laying side-by-side in his bed.

"Get some rest," Drake ordered now, as he stood up and then smoothed the front of his slacks. "And, uh, I don't think he'll try anything," he then added, as he motioned towards Samuel's unconscious form. "But if he does, feel free to reprimand him on my behalf."

"You'll probably be more gentle," he then concluded, with a smile, before slipping out of the cabin and closing the door behind him.
 
No sooner had Drake left his guests in the cabin than his phone began to vibrate once more. This time James was calling again since Drake was alone.

"Hello Drake. Boy this has been a fun flight, hasn't it? I have to give you credit. You've done a fabulous job obeying all orders without alerting the others to what you are doing." James chuckled then, pausing for only a moment. "For a moment there it seemed like someone might be jealous... And who knew Matt had such an aversion to needles? That was surprising. Well, they are both resting now. I suggest you do the same. I don't think you've hardly slept since the excitement started and there's a big day tomorrow~!"

This last bit had more of a sing song quality to it. "Oh, and before I forget. I want you to kiss which ever of those strapping men come out of that cabin first. Drama~! I just adore it. You are quickly becoming my fav-or-ite show to watch. I don't care which of them you kiss, just whoever comes out first. Which means you might want to brush your teeth in case it's Sammy. We wouldn't want a repeat episode. What are the odds he has a second pen, huh? Understand, dickwad?"

---

Drake was standing over him, laughing while Samuel felt the current of water dragging him downward. The laughter was deep and sinister. "That's what you get for betraying me." The man said as Samuel reached out, trying to grab on something, anything so as not to be dragged down to the bottom of the cold water. "I trusted you."

Then the Valentine's face changed. It seemed to melt and instead of the employer whom he had served for ten years, it was Augustus standing above him, laughing as water flooded Sam's lungs. He gasped, trying to breathe In sweet air but finding only more, heavy water that made his chest burn like it was on fire. He tried to scream for help but no words came. Pain shot through his leg but when he looked down into the murky, muddy water, what he found was a sharp-toothed piranha sinking its teeth into his leg. He tried to kick at it, but soon watched as the water turned red with his own blood.

"Feel that pain, Samuel? That's how Cleo felt when Cade Valentine drugged and raped her. And it's all your fault." Augustus' voice was dark and foreboding and as Samuel looked up at him again his features morphed more into that of a demon than anything else.

"No!" Samuel gasped as words finally returned to him. As the single word escaped his lips, he sat bolt upright, his heart racing and chest screaming in agony. Instinctively he drew his knees up, wrapped his arms over them and buried his face in his arms. "I'm sorry." He whispered.

It had been a dream. A horrifically vivid and real feeling nightmare, but just a dream. For thirteen years Cleo had haunted his dreams. It was always the happy go lucky, carefree Cleo he saw in his dreams too, not the stern, motherly woman she had become.

As he sat there in silence, obsorbed in his own thoughts, he felt the bed shift. Only then did he start to process where he was and why. The last thing he remembered is... Kissing Matt. Then the aniphelex shock. Slowly he turned his head to look at the bed beside him. There was Matt, sound asleep. He had shifted a little at Sam's movement and voice but he was still sound asleep.

How long had he been asleep? It was too dark in the room to attempt to read his Rolex. Long enough for sure. His chest still burned. Now his tongue began to press against his lips and found them tender but hoped they wouldn't be obvious. The swelling should have gone down by now but they felt huge to his tongue.

He buried his face for a few more minutes, allowing his heart rate - which had been so elevated by his nightmare - to return to normal. Then, slowly, Samuel slipped from the bed, letting his eyes take in the dark room. As he did so he felt his phone vibrate. He pulled it from his pocket and opened it up.

That was a bad idea. The screen was so blindingly bright that it hurt his eyes to look at it, let alone read it. It took a minute of blinking to adjust enough to read it.

[That was a close one. Don't scare me like that again. The plane will be landing in thirty minutes, better put yourself back together.]

Deleting the message, he smiled a little and looked around the room again. It took him a few more minutes to readjust to the darkness. When he did, he saw his shedded jacket and belt folded neatly nearby next to Matt's shed clothing.

His fingers carefully untied his tie from around his waist then refastened his shirt before putting on his tie and jacket. Finally he ran a hand through his hair to smooth it before taking a deep breath. Time to go face the music.

Stepping quietly from the cabin, he didn't head straight to the lounge area. Instead he stepped into the small galley and opened the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water and chugging half of it in one gulp. It would take his body a little time to recover from his near death experience but he already felt better from drinking the water.

That thought led Sam to wonder, which man had administered the EpiPen?

Stretching his neck, he finally made his way out into the lounge area and was both nervous and happy to do d that Drake was awake. Had the man slept at all?

"Sir." He said quietly to get his attention. "I, uh... I wanted to apologise again, for earlier. When Matt wakes I'll apologise to him as well. I honestly can't say what came over me. I don't know if it was the heat of the moment or what but... Well it was unprofessional and inexcusable. I am truly sorry for my actions." He paused for a long moment and then took a deep breath. "Who was it that used my EpiPen on me?"
 
Let it be Sam. Let it be Sam. Let it be Sam.

Over and over, Drake silently wished that it would be his trusted assistant who would emerge from the cabin first. Having to kiss Matt again so soon would undoubtedly lead his friend to believe that something far more intimate was going on between the two of them, but with Sam, he could easily play it off as some sort of overly dramatic gesture, a bold, yet, perhaps, more meaningful way of showing him just how much he meant to him, and how his near death experience shook Drake to his core, which, in reality, it had.

Thank god, he then thought, with a subtle sigh of relief, as his prayers were actually answered.

As soon as Sam finished his apology - which seemed sincere - Drake grasped his face and planted the firmest kiss he could, directly onto his lips. Could he have gone another route, by simply kissing him on the cheek, as he had done with Matt? Sure, he could have, since the directions given were rather vague, but not wanting to press his luck - or the luck of his siblings - for even a moment, he opted for the most direct path before him; however, instead of swiftly pulling away the moment the task was completed, he slid his now moist mouth to the man's right ear and whispered, "They're watching," before finally pulling away.

Once free, he gave the man a knowing look, one that basically said, "Just play along." It was one he had given him countless times before when he had to get himself out of a compromising situation.

"I...I'm so glad that you're alive," he openly admitted now. "Apparently so glad, that I'm unable to control my own actions," he was quick to add, referring to the kiss. "I suppose, in a rather roundabout way, that makes us even, although, just know that my intentions are strictly platonic."

Taking a deep breath, he then continued to explain himself.

"Samuel, I know I rarely say this to you, actually, I know I don't say this nearly enough, but I'm sincerely grateful for everything that you do for me and I honestly can't imagine myself without you by my side. You are indeed my most trusted companion, someone whom I consider both a friend and a part of my family. The thought of losing you, well, I don't dare tempt fate by speaking about such things for even a minute more."

"How about we put all of this behind us?" he then asked, as he offered his hand, hoping that Sam would just accept it and move on. "Deal?"
 
Samuel had only just finished apologizing when Drake crossed the last few steps to him and... Kissed him? His eyes grew wide as he felt the soft, supple lips of his employer press against his own. His first immediate thought was the fact that Drake had also been eating strawberries and how he didn't have a second EpiPen on him. Though he caught a brief taste of... Peppermint. Drake had brushed his teeth.

What was going on? Why was Drake suddenly kissing him? Had his near death awakened feelings in the man? How long had he been planning on ambushing him with this? Clearly at least long enough to have brushed his teeth...

"I..." He started to say but then Drake whispered into his ear.

"They're watching." Two simple words and everything was crystal clear. Of course. It was just another order. He wanted to relax then but instead he felt his muscles tighten.

Then he saw the look and gave a barely perceptual nod to acknowledge it and let him know he understood.

As Drake pulled back and continued to speak, his eyebrows furrowed. How much of this was real and how much had he been ordered to say. It was impossible to tell.

As the man held out his hand, he accepted, grasping not just the man's hand but interlocking his hand so that he grasped the man's wrist in a firm hold and shook it. "Thank you Drake. Your words mean a great deal to me." Though as he looked into Drake's eyes, Samuel's gaze told another story. There was anger in Sam's eyes. A deep, dark anger.

Breaking the hold, he pulled out his work phone. "The news of Hunter's demise has been all over the news for about an hour now. The fanatics are in an uproar demanding to know where the you and Rick are. I'm sure when we land in Vegas there will be poparazzi waiting for us. Thankfully I thought ahead. When the pilot charted his course it was as a direct flight to Las Angeles. When the news about Hunter started appearing, he waited twenty minutes then changed course to go to Las Vegas. It will make it appear as though we were on our way to the party in California when we got the news and altered our course. It will prevent conspiracy theories that you were somehow involved with Hunter's death."

His voice seemed calm and collected. It was just like Sam to be cool and professional, even after hearing what Drake had to say. "I've only just arranged for a car to pick us up in Vegas. I didn't want those arrangements to seem suspicious either. We should be landing in about..." He lifted his hand to look at his watch. "Fifteen minutes. I'll go wake Matt so that he can be ready."

That said, he returned to the back cabin and gently roused Matt. After another sincere apology, he left and busies himself with preparations for landing. Really he was just doing whatever it took to avoid Drake. The man knew him well enough that he would pick up on that if he cared enough to pay attention.

They landed smoothly and disembarked from the jet. All their luggage would stay on the plane, they would only be here for an hour. As they were walking across the landing strip, however, Samuel suddenly stopped. They stood about half way between the plane and the car and Samuel looked around. There was not another living soul nearby, not one near enough to see or hear them at least.

Turning to face Drake, in a quick and oddly strong movement, he suddenly gripped the front of the man's suit and pulled his close, looking him dead in the eyes, his anger from before fueled into a heated turmoil.

"What the fuck are you playing at Drake?!" He suddenly demanded of the man, quietly enough that Matt wouldn't be able to hear. "You tell me that those fuckers are watching us then you go and say something like that?" He released Drake then, letting the man step away if he wanted to

"All these years I have shown you loyalty and you wait until your entire life is under the scalpel to tell me that I'm like family to you? When there's a fucking psychopath out there kidnapping your family?! And he's fucking watching us?! Do you want me to be next?" Pausing then, the look in his eyes suddenly changed. His entire posture changed.

Anger suddenly melted from his eyes to be replaced by a look that Drake knew all too well. Samuel had an idea. "Wait... What if I was next?" During the altercation his jacket had shifted open and his holster was visible for a moment before Samuel refastened his jacket, nodding his head. "Yes... We have an advantage. We know they are watching us... We know for some God awful reason they are targeting everyone you care about... If we play up how much I mean to you..." He shook his head. "It probably won't work... But if it does... If somehow we can get them to take me... Maybe, just maybe I could be your eyes on the inside. We could get Rick back without playing their game."

His attention returned to Drake and he shrugged a little. "I know it sounds crazy but... I think it could possibly work...?"
 
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"As always, I'm glad to hear that we're on the same page," was Drake's contrarily calm reply as he took a step back and casually straightened his jacket, which his panic-stricken assistant had just sent askew upon grabbing the front of it. "That's exactly what I want, Sam. I want them to make another move on us, to make an attempt to snatch away yet another from our ranks, be it you, Matt or even Henry at this point, but this time we'll know that they're coming, we'll be prepared for the assault, and then we'll be able to make a move against them. We need to get them to come out of the shadows, Sam. We can't fight what we can't clearly see, in the flesh, and not just on some video or cellular screen."

Pausing now, so that his words could settle in, he didn't wait very long to take the opportunity to put his assistant's mind at ease.

"Listen. I'm not going to let them take any one of you, at least not without a fight," he offered, as he placed a firm hand on the other man's shoulder. "As a matter of fact, I'm going to take every precaution available to us to ensure that even if one of you does end up within their vile clutches, we'll be able to find you long before they can harm even a single hair on your head."

Turning now as Matt approached the two men, Drake was quick to put the next piece of his plan into action. As far as he could tell, they were safe standing out here on the tarmac.

"I hate to ask this of you, but may I borrow your cell?"

"Oh. Yeah. Sure," was the man's reply as he quickly fished it out of an inner pocket and handed it over, only after unlocking it with his thumbprint.

"Thank you," was all Drake said, before lifting an eyebrow upon seeing that his friend's wallpaper was an image of the two of them, standing poolside, wearing nothing more than a pair of matching Gucci sunglasses and thongs.

"I, uh..."

"No need to explain. That was indeed a very memorable vacation that we took together," Drake cut his friend off so that he could focus on what needed to be done in this small window of opportunity.

Holding his own phone in one hand, with a specific contact open on the screen, he proceeded to dial the number on Matt's phone. While Drake's was clearly bugged, he was fairly certain that Matt's would still be secure. Pocketing his own device, once the secondary cell began to ring, Drake took a step back when the line connected.

"Drake Valentine calling for Doctor Varshavski," he said just loud enough for both men to hear. "Yes, I'll hold."

Inclined to pace back and forth while he waited, Drake actually opted to stand perfectly still. At this point, his nerves were essentially frayed and his body was overly exhausted from head to toe. Every inch felt worn down, and not just physically, but mentally. He'd been going, nearly non-stop, for what felt like ages, even though it had only been hours. He didn't know how much more he could...

"Hello? Mikhail? Y-yes, it's horrible, all of it, but... No. I'm fine. Well, as fine as I can be, given the circumstances. Listen, I hate to ask this of you, especially with such short notice, but..."

Stepping further away from the two men, Drake's conversation would be his own. There was no need to involve the two of them, at least not at this point. They would soon come to learn about the details of his plan, but for now he felt it better for the two of them to know as little as possible.

"Excellent. I owe you one. We'll see you later this evening," he concluded his quick conversation, as he began to approach the two men once more. "Shall we?" he then asked the two of them, as he handed Matt his cell and motioned for Samuel to lead them on.
 
Fully expecting Drake to get mad, or potentially start a fight because of his own brashness, he was completely taken off guard by the man... Calmly proclaiming they were on the same page? Wait, what? He had made that offer to try and show Drake just how 'loyal' he was. What better way to maintain the man's trust than by offering himself up to the kidnapper in a valiant attempt to save Rick? But Drake was already thinking something along those lines? On some small level that knowledge actually stung.

He started to grow uneasy then, not for the reasons Drake assumed, but the man must have sensed it in the shift of his body language because he went on to talk about how they wouldn't give up without a fight.

Then, even more strange, the man asked to borrow Matt's cell. Damn. He must have figured his own was bugged and if his was bugged there was a high likelihood that his assistant's phone was also bugged. Matt had been an unknown in the equation so his phone was most likely secure. Which it was. Sam had no way of knowing that the man would be with them today.

As he unlocked the screen and handed it over, Samuel caught only a brief glimpse of the wallpaper but it was enough for his eyes to go wide and he glanced between the two men, watching closely. Well damn. Samuel had seen Drake shirtless before, of course, but only in brief moments during a suit fitting or if they were discussing business while Drake changed his shirt. To see him in nothing but a thong with his bronzed skin all shiny from lotion and a crystalline pool behind him? It was strangely arousing. He gave no second thought to Matt in a thong, he had after all, seen all of Matt's work, but Drake, the ever professional man, it was mind blowing.

Though his erotic thoughts came crashing to a halt as Drake began to speak into the phone. Dr. Varshavski? Why on Earth would Drake be calling his physician right now. He raked his memory for everything he knew about the man. He was a plastic surgeon, right? Yes, but Drake was one of his few private clients. Samuel had scheduled meetings with the man before but he'd never attended a meeting with the man. He had no idea why Drake saw him.

Listening carefully, he was dismayed when Drake wandered off just enough that the sound of the idling jet drowned out his words. Damn it! He hated being left in the dark!

When the man returned, Samuel nodded but then paused. "Uh, sir... May I ask..." He hesitated but then trailed off. Though he had no intention of asking the man about his private conversation with his doctor. If he had walked away to speak, then clearly he didn't want Samuel or Matt knowing what he discussed. The question on his mind was more personal. Did you mean what you said on the plane, or was it just a rouse to get the kidnappers to target me? Though now that he was speaking, he realized he didn't know if he wanted to know the answer. Instead, he shook his head. "Nevermind. I... I think I'm better off not knowing." He said calmly and straightened a little, turning and leading them to the waiting car.

The luxury car waiting for them was a Mercedes but due to Drake's recent trauma at the warehouse, this one was black instead of his customary white. The driver got out as they approached and moved to open the back door. Samuel looked the man over suspiciously and motioned for Drake and Matt to get into the back. "I will take the wheel from here." He said calmly to the man.

He seemed completely taken aback by that and tried to oppose him. "Sir, I can't-" Samuel opened his jacket and as he did so, he revealed the gun holstered at his side. He didn't reach for it, however, instead he reached into his inner pocket and pulled something out. The man's eyes were glued to the gun and he took a cautious step back, almost missing Samuel extending his hand. "What is this?" He asked, taking what Samuel was offering him.

"My personal guarantee that the car will be returned to the rental agency unharmed." He assured the man as he had a chance to take in what he had been given. The wad of cash more than paid for the hour that the car had been rented for, as well as a hefty deposit. It would cover any damages that might possibly happen to the car - other than complete destruction which Samuel had no intention of. "My driver's license and insurance information has already been filed with the rental agency, there's enough in there for you to arrange a ride back to the station and to cover your time as if you were with us for the entire hour."

It was a very generous amount, but it was what Samuel knew it would take in order to assure their privacy for the next hour. People talked. Especially hired drivers. There had been at least one occasion where a hired driver had revealed sensitive information that he and Drake had discussed during a ride. That had been early into Samuel's career so he had long since learned not to trust hired drivers unless they had undergone very thorough screening by himself. Drake employed only a select few drivers for certain occasions but more often than not, Drake drove himself or Samuel would drive him.

This was an occasion that called for Samuel to drive, he believed.

As the confused driver walked away, Samuel climbed into the driver's seat and adjusted the seat and mirrors before glancing back at Drake and Matt. Confident they were comfortable, he started to drive.

For the next hour he drove them around Las Vegas. The car was a Mercedes Maybach S600. Designed for passenger comfort. Whenever they stopped, Samuel would walk around and open each of their doors, acting like their chauffeur. They visited the morgue where Hunter's body had been taken and made the proper arrangements for him. Samuel oversaw all of it, sticking close to Drake's side now that the full reality of his brother's death would be brutally assaulting him with seeing his actual dead body.

When they saw the corpse, he was covered only in a white sheet up to the neck and the discoloration around his neck where the shock collar had been was plainly obvious. It could be covered with makeup for an open-coffin service but at the moment a funeral service was hard to even consider so for now they arranged for his corpse to be held until the full arrangements were made.

After that they met with both Nick and Jordan. Cade was still under heavy questioning so meeting with him was impossible. The only person able to get close to him was Jonathan and they were only able to meet with him themselves for five minutes. All he was able to tell them was that things didn't look good for Cade. All the evidence pointed to him being the one to kill Hunter, despite Cade's mad rantings that some man named Augustus Black had been behind the whole thing.

They expertly managed to generally avoid answering any questions when they were ambushed by paparazzi or news reporters but that didn't stop the harassment.

Returning to the air strip, it felt like more than a single hour had passed. To Samuel the air seemed heavier now that they had first-hand experience with the seriousness of the situation. It was one thing to see Hunter die on a screen, it was another to see his actual dead body. Hearing that Cade was taking the blame for his death was bad enough without hearing from their attorney that things didn't look good for him. All around, things just seemed more real.

Once they were all onboard, Samuel didn't say anything, he just fixed each of them a drink and set it in front of them. No words came to him. What did one say at a time like this? They had barely taken to the air again when Drake's phone vibrated again.

[Enjoy what you saw? I saw your course change mid flight but figured you might not fully believe my show until you saw his body for yourself. Now you fully understand how serious I am, don't you? The next leg of your flight isn't long enough for any fun so I'll let you wallow in your own thoughts. Besides, I'll be seeing you in person soon enough.]
 
How was it possible that only a single hour had passed, a mere sixty minutes?

For Matt and especially for Drake, it felt like another day, if not two, had gone by, that's just how prolonged every painful minute of each grueling process felt, more so in seeing Hunter at the morgue, than attempting to see Cade in prison. Therefore, by the time that they returned to the jet, they were both mentally and emotionally drained. It was good that no words were needed from either one of them, since forming a single sentence, without breaking down, would've certainly been a challenge.

Opting to tuck himself away in his secluded cabin for the remainder of the flight, Drake's privacy was short-lived as Matt took it upon himself to check in on his subdued friend. Expecting to simply tuck him in, the next thing both men knew, they were more or less spooning on the king-size bed as Drake completely fell apart.

Collapsing into his best friend's arms, the typically stoic male let all of his defenses down, as his body uncontrollably shook and tears began to burn his cheeks. On a certain level, he was not only ashamed for behaving like this, but mildly worried - yet again - that this would give Matt the wrong impression, however, he couldn't help himself and, when it came right down to it, he didn't really care. The pain was too much for him to handle on his own. He needed the support of his best friend, regardless of the fact that it painted him in a truly vulnerable light.

Remaining like this for the next hour and a half, the two would only emerge from the cabin once prompted by the pilot to strap themselves in, since they would be landing momentarily.

"I'll be right out," Drake assured Matt as he paused in the doorway.

Taking a moment to fetch his phone, which he had tossed across the cabin upon receiving yet another taunting text from Rick's captors, Drake actually reread the last message before pocketing the device.

I'll be seeing you in person soon enough.

So it worked. Drake's plan of getting these goons to come out in the open had worked. They had taken the bait, or so it seemed. But when? Would they have the nerve to infiltrate Henry's home or would they wait until tomorrow and make an appearance at the party? Both options had their advantages, but if Drake had to guess, the club would be more beneficial, since they could blend in better, as well as get away more easily.

Not sharing this bit of information with either man, for the less they currently knew the better, Drake remained mostly silent as they set down, disembarked, and then drove to their host's home, in a vehicle that appeared to be a twin to the one they utilized in Vegas. Forty minutes later and the three would find themselves going from the congested madness that was downtown LA to the far more serene setting of Sherwood and, more specifically, Henry's remote, hilltop home that overlooked the nearby lake.

"So, as of right now, our generous host is unaware of what is going on with Rick," Drake reminded the other men, once Samuel put the car into park and killed the engine. "I'd like to keep it this way, at least for now. If I feel like he should know more, he will, but that will be my call to make. Understood? As for the rest, we won't be able to avoid speaking about it, but I would appreciate a bit of restraint from the two of you when sharing any of the specifics. The less he knows, the better. Agreed?"

"Agreed," was Matt's reply, with a nod of his, not feeling overly compelled as of yet to question his friend's handling of the situation, regardless of the fact that he personally felt there was safety in numbers.

Exiting the car, Drake took a deep breath and then slowly expelled it. It felt good to be here, in the great outdoors, breathing the fresh air and hearing the soothing sounds of nature all around them. He could clearly understand why their host elected to live here, practically in the middle of nowhere, instead of in the overcrowded hills of Hollywood.

"Welcome," he then heard Henry call from the front steps, as he descended them and came to stand in the driveway, with his dog, Kal, in tow. "I was deeply saddened to hear about Hunter," he was quick to offer Drake, with a firm hand placed on the man's shoulder.

Mentally preparing himself to have to speak about Cade's unfortunate situation as well, Drake was thankful when the tactful man simply accepted his reply of "Thank you," before moving on to greet the others.

Moving inside, the men were given a quick tour of the multi-leveled home, with each being shown a separate guest room, before finally settling down in the main living room, which had a stunning view of the lake and surrounding woods. They were then informed, only after drinks were offered, that dinner would be served in about an hour, at which point Drake spoke up.

"I loathe having to repeatedly ask for favors from you, especially since you've been so kind to take us in on such short notice, but..."

"Say no more, Drake," Henry was quick to cut him off, with a gentle wave of his hand. "My home is your home. Please treat it as such."

"That's very generous of you," Matt was actually the one to chime in at this point, before flashing his bright, trademark smile at his peer.

"It's the least I can do," the Brit replied, with a shrug of his broad shoulders.

At this point, Drake proceeded to inform their host that a fifth individual, his personal physician to be exact, would be joining them for dinner. Then, later on in the evening, they should expect a house call from Mr. Ford and his team.

With a bit of concern displayed on his handsome face over the former announcement, Henry actually brightened after the latter was made known. Without hesitation, he excused himself from their company so that he could update his personal chef, as well as make the necessary arrangements to ensure that the fashion icon would have the proper amount of space to set up shop.

"How are you holding up?" Drake took this opportunity to inquire of his assistant who was sitting nearby. "You look like you'd rather be sleeping, than socializing."
 
When his phone began to ring, Samuel was quick to pull it out. He didn't bother to look at the caller ID though. "What are you doing calling me? They could come out at any moment!" He hissed into the phone, looking back at the door into the private cabin. Drake had gone straight inside and a moment later Matt had followed him. It had been five minutes ago, but he was sure that one of them was going to come back out at any moment.

"Don't worry. I'm watching them. If they start heading for the door, I'll let you know. I doubt that's going to happen though. They're uh, kind of occupied." Augustus said with a chuckle.

Samuel's eyebrows arched up. Wait, after the day he'd had and after having seen the wallpaper on Matt's phone, were they... "Oh God. Don't tell me... are they...?"

"Huh? Oh, no, not that. Drake is crying."

That was almost as unbelievable as Matt and Drake having a secret, steamy relationship. "You're kidding, right?"

"Would that I were... Seeing a grown man cry that hard is... Well it's disgusting… and a little satisfying to know I'm the one that did it. Though it's mostly Cade I wanted to hurt, taking down Drake had to happen. We couldn't have him coming after us, we had to take him down in the most public way possible... And making him suffer for the way he's treated you over the years is just a bonus."

These were the words Augustus always told him when Samuel started to have second thoughts about going after the second eldest Valentine. "You're right... I know you are..." Samuel said, still thinking about the words Drake had spoken to him earlier. "Is his crying an attempt to fool you into thinking his relationship with Matt is more than it seems?"

These words gave Augustus pause and when he spoke there was a slight hesitation to his voice. "I don't know... It could be? Would he do that though?"

Sam knew that August was watching him so he looked at one of the cameras before admitting, "He told me that he was being watched... When he was telling me how much I mean to him. I confronted him when we were out of sight of the cameras and he implied that he only said what he did so that the kidnappers would try to make a move on us."

"He was trying to sacrifice you to the men that killed his brother?" Augustus asked, his voice suddenly hard.

Shaking his head, Samuel explained. "Not like that. I offered to allow myself to get kidnapped, a show of loyalty, but he said he would try to avoid that. He's taking 'precautions'. After he said that, he called Dr. Varshavski." At the word 'precautions', he held up a hand to do air quotes.

"His doctor? Why would he do that?" Augustus sounded as confused as Samuel did.

"Yeah... He said..." Samuel had to close his eyes. His eidetic memory only worked with written text and he hadn't written the words down so he had to think for a second. "'I'm going to take every precaution available to us to ensure that even if one of you does end up within their vile clutches, we'll be able to find you long before they can harm even a single hair on your head.' I think that's right... I think, well Mikhail is a plastic surgeon. I think Drake might be wanting to implant me, Matt and Henry with GPS. Something untraceable by standard bug sweepers. Something Mikhail can imbed in our skin."

"That seems pretty drastic... Though I wouldn't put that past a Valentine. Don't worry, my guy already got us into Henry's security feeds. We'll see everything that happens there. I was going to have James let on to Drake that he could still see him, but maybe I'll do the opposite. So long as Drake doesn't know we can see him, he will follow through with his scheme, whatever it is."

Nodding again, Samuel fell quiet then, mind returning again to the words Drake had said.

Augustus sighed and Samuel's eyebrows arched upwards. "I shouldn't tell you this, it will make you... Well it will keep you doubting going through with this... But I doubt that Drake's words were just for the camera. After you came stumbling out of that bathroom, he looked worried. He was completely stunned and didn't know what to do until I had James say something to him. When he realized what was going on, he used the EpiPen on you and then carried you back to his private cabin himself. The look as he was tending to you... He meant what he said."

Was that supposed to make him feel better? It did on one level, but also made it harder for him. "How can I betray that?"

"Think of Cleo."

"He's not the one that hurt her though." He said and ran his free hand over his face. "August... Thanks for telling me that, but you're right, it only makes it harder to go through with what we're doing to him..."

"Well then think of all the hell he's put you through over the years. Think about the fact that you've gotten four hours of sleep in the last seventy-two hours and two and a half of those were because you passed out because of an allergic reaction."

That oddly made him chuckle. "You're right... I guess what I have to do to get some rest around here is have a near-death experience. That's all."

"Well, you've got an hour before the plane will start its decent into LA. Rest. Thanks for the intel on the doctor. I'll look into it, but I'll be quiet about it. Whatever Drake is planning will surely go down at Henry's place so I'll know about it. We'll let him think he has an edge for a while."

"Alright. I can't wait for this to just be done and over with." He paused as a thought occurred to him. "What if Drake reviews this security recordings after we land?"

"I doubt he'll have any reason to, as far as I can tell he doesn't suspect you, that's the only reason he'd have to rewatch any of this... But you know me, I always play it safe. The hard drives that they would normally be recording to were removed from the jet and I've intercepted the live feed. So there won't be anything for him to review."

"Of course you did..." Sam said with a smile. That was Augustus, always thinking three steps ahead.

"Rest. I'll see you soon." Augustus insisted and Samuel nodded, yawning.

"Okay, okay. See you soon." He said and then hung up, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

Samuel prided himself on being able to predict what Drake would do on a day-to-day basis and have plans to ensure that he was one step ahead of the man, to make things go smoothly - with contingency plans to prevent any sort of unforeseen element from throwing everything off course - but Augustus put him to shame. His old friend wasn't trying to track and predict a single person, he was keeping track of so many moving parts that Samuel couldn't even contemplate how he made things run so smoothly.

---

Samuel looked at Drake, and slightly shook his head. Ever since his phone call with Augustus he had been in a sort of daze. He had tried to sleep, he really had, but his brain wouldn't shut off. It was buzzing like it was filled with a million angry bees. He had driven them here but his body had essentially been on auto pilot. Up until now he had only been half listening to the conversations. It was no wonder Drake had picked up on his weariness though.

"Huh? Oh, I'm fine." He smiled and looked at the other. I've only have five hours of sleep over the last seventy-two hours, but that's nothing new. He didn't say that out loud though. He didn't want to appear unsupportive. "I'm tired, but I'll survive... I'm more worried about you, sir. This is... Well it's been hard on you. I can see that. How are you holding up?" He looked into the man's eyes then. His own eyes were slightly blood shot from lack of sleep and there were dark lines under his eyes but there was determination in his eyes. "I'm here for you Drake... Whatever it takes." He said, quoting the man's own words back at him.

---

"We want to keep him on his toes, but don't alert him that we're watching. I want him to go through with whatever plan he has." Augustus said to James as they watched Drake and company enter Henry's elaborate estate.

James rolled his eyes, "Alright, so what do you want me to say?"

"How about... 'Time for some more fun Drake! I want you to act flirty with everyone while you're at Henry's. Relax, I can't see you, his security is too tough to crack. I'll just have to trust that you are doing what I say, and you'll just have to trust that I'm not hurting your brother.' Send it as a text message. Only use text messaging while he's at Henry's so that he doesn't suspect that we can see him."
 
Arriving roughly a minute before the quartet of men were about to relocate to the dining room for dinner, Dr. Mikhail Varshavski was mildly surprised to find himself being greeted at the front door by his affluent client instead of some hired hand or, well, even the a-list celebrity who actually resided at the hilltop home himself.

"Mr. Valentine," he was quick to acknowledge the man as he was swiftly ushered inside.

"Mike, please, there's no need to be so formal," Drake insisted as he closed the door and then joined the young, fresh-faced physician in the front foyer. "Drake will do."

"Are...are you feeling alright?" the doctor replied as he made the bold gesture to place his hand upon the forehead of the surprisingly informal man who stood before him, one who typically kept everything absolutely professional, at all times, even when it was just the two of them behind the closed doors of his office.

"As good as I can, given the circumstances," he replied as he took a step back, yet kept himself within range, so that he could help the doctor out of his suit jacket. "Again, there's no need to be so formal," he informed him, as he worked the well-made garment from his shoulders, before sliding it down his bulging arms. "Have you been hitting the gym harder than usual?" he then questioned as he curiously eyed up his torso that perfectly filled out the fitted dress shirt that was now on full display.

"I...uh...no, not really," Mikahail replied, in a faltering voice, seeing that he was caught completely off guard by the unexpected compliment. "You sure you haven't hit your head or...?"

"Not that I'm aware of," was Drake's simple reply as he hung the jacket on a nearby coatrack.

"I have what you requested in the car," he then informed the man, feeling the sudden need to change the topic. "We can take care of business after dinner."

"That sounds perfect," Drake beamed as he escorted the man down a hallway and into a dining room. "Gentlemen," he then called to the three men who were currently taking seats around the long, impeccably-set table that dominated the center of the equally lengthy room, with its stunning view of the woods, and the setting sun beyond. "May I present to you the absurdly talented and undeniably handsome, Mikhail Varshavski, better known as Dr. Mike."

"You...you're too kind," Mikhail was quick to respond to such overwhelming and, quite honestly, unnecessary flattery.

"I only speak the truth," was Drake's equally quick reply as he placed an overly friendly arm around the doctor's broad shoulders and then leaned into him. "Now, I'm sure I don't need to tell you who those two dashing men are," he continued, as he waved a hand towards Henry and Matt, "but this handsome devil is my right-hand man, Samuel Chorster."

"Pleased to meet you," Mikhail offered, along with his hand. "Actually, it's a pleasure to meet all of you," he then acknowledged the two celebrities as he made a move to shake their hands as well, feeling like it was the perfect out to put a bit of distance between himself and Drake, who was being a tad too handsy for his taste.

Taking the seat to Matt's right, only after thanking Henry for hosting him on such short notice, Mikhail did his best to keep a casual yet calculated eye on Drake, who was now sitting across from him, only after he instructed his assistant to move a seat closer to their host, who was sitting at the head of the table. There was something off about the way that he was behaving, and while Mikhail was a trained physician and not a licensed psychologist, he had a hunch that there was something else going on here, something beyond the recent death and detainment of his siblings.

What could it be? he wondered, as the courses flowed freely, one into the next, but so did the overt flirting, which was mostly initiated by Drake, but occasionally ignited by Matt. Even Henry got caught up in the mostly harmless, chiefly superficial banter, after Drake and Matt both informed him that there would never ever be another Man of Steel like him. This, quite naturally, turned into a heated and somewhat steamy conversation about how perfectly he filled out the spandex suit, inch by bulging inch.

Samuel, for his part, seemed to be immune to their charms, not giving in to or encouraging such brash behavior. Perhaps, just perhaps, if he could get the man alone, even for a minute, the assistant could shed some light on what was happening here tonight. Therefore, when the moment came for the final course to be cleared, so that dessert could be served, the doctor practically jumped on the opportunity to excuse himself from the table, with the hopes that Drake's assistant would need to tend to some trivial task of his own.

Come on, he now inwardly demanded of the man as he patiently waited in the hallway beyond. I just need a minute of your time. A minute to find out what's going on with Drake.
 
There was something openly wrong about Drake this evening. He was too cheery, too eager to touch and be close. Was this another order? August hadn't sent him any messages or anything since their arrival at Henry's. Since his friend had the advantage of being able to see what he was doing, he knew that Samuel wouldn't be able to check his phone without someone seeing and even a coded message could be dangerous.

Well, whatever it was, Drake was being downright flirty. It was weird. He himself was keeping his distance from Drake, and Matt too just to be safe. He didn't want a repeat incident. He wasn't exactly avoiding the pair, but he wasn't allowing himself to get pulled into their flirtatious behavior.

Henry seemed confused by the behavior but he didn't want to offend his friend so he was taking everything in a good nature. Matt though was happily playing along, he seemed to like the new, friendly, laid back version of Drake. He was eagerly falling into the flirting, practically eating from Drake's hand - which wasn't unusual since he had quite literally been eating from his hand.

While Drake was flirting with Matt and Henry, Samuel excused himself to make his way to the kitchen. He informed the chef of his own severe allergy and chatted with the man for a brief moment. It was mostly an attempt to avoid Drake, but he also casually found out what the man would be cooking.

When the doctor arrived Sam half expected Drake's flirtations to stop, but they didn't. The man just kept on. It wasn't until he introduced Samuel himself that he knew for a certainty that something was wrong. He was seriously acting weird.

Throughout diner he kept his silence, only responding to direct conversation but he wasn't cold or distant, just impassive. All the while he was studying Mike, who seemed completely off-put by the way Drake was feeling. So when the last course was over and Mike excused himself before desert, Samuel watched him leave then slid his own chair back.

"If you'll excuse me, I have some work to tend to for just a moment." He said in a calm and quiet voice before leaving.

He was just fastening his jacket again when he rounded the corner to find Mike waiting for him. "Dr. Varshavski." He said, not following Drake's unusual lead about calling him Dr. Mike.

"Mr. Chorster." The doctor said, seeming pleased by the formality. "I wanted to speak to you about your boss."

Glancing over his shoulder at the dining room, he turned back to the man and raised an eyebrow. "I apologise, doctor, but I don't speak about Mr. Valentine behind his back. It's bad form."

"I must admit, after the casualness with which Mr. Valentine has been treating the evening, it is surprisingly refreshing to hear such formalities. Often I have noted how rigid Mr. Valentine is and seeing him act so... Well, not like himself, it's alarming. I was just hoping you might be able to shed some light on the subject?"

Samuel's dark eyes looked over the attractive doctor. "Doctor Mikhail Varshavski. Age twenty-nine. You graduated from St. George's University as the second in your class in 2014. You have been practicing in California for five years as a plastic surgeon but you have only been treating Mr. Valentine for three years. I could go on, ask me anything. Your date of birth or shoe size, hell I bet I could even name off what brand briefs you're wearing."

Mikhail raised an eyebrow and smiled a little. "Bravo, Mr. Chorster. Clearly you have done your homework, but what does this have to do with, well, anything?"

"My point, doctor, is that you are good at your job and I am good at mine. My job is, well pretty much anything it needs to be. From chef, to assistant to confidante, but what it isn't, is talking about my boss behind his back. If you want to know what's going on with him, my advice is to ask him. All I can say is he's under a lot of stress right now. If you hadn't heard, he's going through a lot right now. So tell me, how would you be feeling if you had just learned that one of your brothers had killed the other?"

The question seemed to sting the younger man. "I, well, when you put it that way..." He paused. "How long have you been working for Mr. Valentine?"

"Ten years. Why?"

"Have you ever seen him act like this?"

Samuel hesitated. "No, I haven't." He admitted.

Mikhail crossed his arms over his chest. "And do you know why he asked me here today?"

"No, he didn't tell me so I didn't ask. I figured I would find out when it becomes pertinent."

"Well, to be honest, what he's asked of me is rather... Suspicious, especially now that I see him acting like this. If he's snapped or something, I don't know that I can go through with what he's asked."

Glancing at the dining room again, Sam reached out and set a hand on the doctor's shoulder, it wasn't as intimate a gesture as Drake had made earlier, more the formal sort of motion one made when acknowledging an equal. "Mike, Drake hasn't gone off the deep end. I assure you. Whatever he has asked of you, he has his reasons. I can't say more but, there are other outstanding reasons for his abnormal behavior. I trust him. You should too. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make."
 
Feeling like he had done just about enough flirting for one night, Drake started to slip back into his usual buttoned-up, all-business disposition that he employed even among friends and close acquaintances.

He could tell that he had made no less than two of the men in the room completely uncomfortable, Mike more-so than Henry, as well as Sam, to a certain degree. As for Matt, well, it was becoming more and more obvious that he was not only enjoying the attention being given, but that he didn't want it to stop anytime soon. Even after Drake had toned down his own flirtatious overtures, the handsome, blue-eyed celebrity just kept on going, even going as far as to make physical contact with him whenever the opportunity presented itself, such as 'accidentally' managing to tangle their feet together under the table or, more blatantly so, playfully reaching for something on the table at the exact same time, so that their hands would collide and become entwined.

Not wanting to make a scene or, more importantly, make his dear friend feel awkward for simply expressing himself, Drake allowed this to go on until the end of the meal. At some point he would have to explain himself and why he was behaving this way or run the risk of losing yet another important person in his life. Matt was indeed like a brother to him, one that he loved dearly, just not in the same way that he appeared to be gunning for.

"Shall we retire to the living room?" Henry rhetorically inquired of the group as he rose from his seat and began to make his way in that general direction.

"Actually, Mikhail and I have a bit of business to attend to," Drake was quick to interject, feeling that this was as good a time as any to put his plan into action. He couldn't exactly keep the good doctor waiting around all evening, nor did he want the man to be ensnared in this insane situation for any longer than was necessary. "Shall we?" he then motioned, in the opposite direction, towards the wing of the home that held the guest bedrooms.

"Yes. I'll be right back. I just need to grab my bag from the car," was Mike's reply, right before Matt eagerly asked, "Do you need help with anything?"

"I don't believe so," was Drake's swift reply, as he placed a gentle hand on the man's shoulder. "At least not yet. I'll send for the two of you once he and I are in a good place," he then pointedly informed both Matt and Samuel, before making his way back to the guest suite he'd been shown to earlier in the evening. "And don't worry, Henry," he then called over his shoulder, upon seeing the questionable look on the man's face, "we're not doing anything illicit."

"At least not yet," he then muttered to himself, before slipping inside the room that would soon become a makeshift medical suite.
 
The truth was, Samuel didn't have a phone call to make. He had slipped out simply to see what Mike was up to. The man had been waiting to ambush him with questions about Drake. So the man's odd behavior was enough to draw attention from his own doctor. What about Henry? Was he suspicious as well? Probably. Could Sam use that? Scratch that, Sam could use anything to his advantage. The real question was how? How could he play up Henry's suspicions to get something out of it?

Stepping around the corner, he dialed the number for Mr. Ford. The conversation was brief and professional. He was mainly just checking in to make sure that the man was on track to meet them at the appointed time. It was a poor excuse to leave the table but it was believable enough that he was taking the opportunity of a brief pause in the meal to make such a call if anyone were to overhear him. When he was done with his discussion, he hung up his phone and returned to the dining room in time to see the dessert being served. He was already quite stuffed from all the previous courses but he could never turn down a good dessert.

The food was already settling rather heavily on him as dinner drew to a close and Henry suggested they retire to the living room. Dark eyes watched as Mike and Drake retreated into the guest bedrooms rather than the spacious living room. He followed Henry and Matt into the living room and looked between the two men before taking a seat in a high-backed chair.

Allowing his own tiredness to show, as much to avoid conversation as anything else, he leaned forward a little and cradled his head in his right hand. At the same time he pulled out his work phone with his left hand and tried to act like he was browsing social media while he sent a quick message to James, deleting it as soon as it had sent.

[Call me in three minutes.]

"Earth to Sam. You okay man?" The voice took him by surprise and Sam looked up to see Matt watching him with concern.

Forcing a smile, he said, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure? You gave Drake and me quite the scare on the plane." He said and Sam noticed the way Henry perked up a little.

"What's this now?" Henry asked and Sam realized that they had sat on either side of him. Damn. It was like being situated between a pair of attractive twins. They were half a decade apart in age, but they were so similar in look that if there was a pane of glass between them, one might think it a mirror.

"Sammy boy here gave us quite the scare. Turns out he's allergic to strawberries." Matt said with a chuckle, roughly clapping his hand on Sam's knee and making the smaller man jump a little.

Samuel's eye actually twitched at the nickname and shook his head just a little, smiling. "I'm glad my near death experience could be so amusing to you."

"Only in the aftermath, now that I know you're okay." Matt said quickly, not wanting to appear callous.

"Near death experience? Surely that's an exaggeration." Henry commented.

Samuel and Matt exchanged a look at that. "No. In fact, if it hadn't been for Drake's quick thinking I wouldn't be here now. I carry an EpiPen on me at all times but I passed out before I could reach it. He must have seen what I was going for and used it. Or so I've come to assume."

"Yeah, he was definitely a lot smarter than me... Although when I first looked at him he was staring at his phone, which I thought was odd..."

Perfect segue, thank you Matt. "He was looking at his phone? You don't think it was him, do you?"

Both Matt and Henry looked confused at the question and then realization seemed to flood Matt's eyes and he blinked. "Wait. Does that mean... Was he watching us the whole time?"

"Drake said he was. He told me to play along, I thought he said something to you too...?" He trailed off and then glanced over at Henry, who was watching them with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

"Who are we talking about, exactly?" Henry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We can't tell you..." Sam said, glancing over at Matt, who looked... Dejected? Had he just realized that all of Drake's flirting may have been play acting for their 'audience'? That could be a fun side effect from this whole game Sam was playing. He loved drama, so long as it didn't directly involve him.

"Does this have something to do with why Drake has been acting... Well odd tonight?" Henry asked and Samuel just shrugged.

"I can't really-" Just then his phone started to ring and he looked at it. His eyes widened as though in shock and he stood. "It's, Oh God... it's him."

"You sure?" Matt asked.

"Yeah, I recognize the number. Fuck. What should I do?" He asked, as though suddenly panicked, looking at Matt.

"Well fucking answer it! We can't take any chances with this fucker. You've seen what he did!" Matt said quickly.

"Right." Sam said, smiling inwardly. Now they would have no choice but to bring Henry up to speed on what was going on. He would be hooked in as thoroughly as Matt. Thank you Matt for your assistance. "Hello?" He asked as he answered the phone.

"You're too clever for your own good. You know that, right? You've got both of them spooked and Henry still has no clue what's going on. You're going to have to tell him now though." It wasn't James though. It was Augustus. The familiar voice made Sam want to grin but he kept his expression panicky.

"Are you... are you watching me?" Sam asked tentatively, looking around as he ran his tongue over his lips.

"You know I am."

Visibly relaxing and letting out a breath, Sam shook his head. "No, Drake isn't with me right now. Do you want me to find him?"

"So it's another of those phone calls where you aren't listening to a word I'm saying, you're just using it for your own advantage. Great. Nick told me you used the same ploy with him earlier. What was it he said? Oh yes, he told you to go eat a bag of dicks, I believe."

"Yes, I understand." Sam said and caught the sound of Augustus sighing on the other end.

"Okay. I'm hanging up now. I'm sure you're gonna tell the two love birds there that you have some sort of order from the kidnappers, hmm? Well, have fun. Not sure where you're going with this but it should be fun to watch."

The line went dead and Sam let out a breath and tucked the phone away. Looking up he saw Matt standing nearby, looking tense.

"Well?" Matt asked.

"What is going on here?" Henry demanded, also standing. Damn. Why the fuck was every around Samuel so God-Damn tall? And muscular... It was like staring down a pair of pit bulls.

"We can't tell you Henry. I'm sorry. It's bad enough that Matt got dragged int-"

"I didn't get dragged into anything. I chose to be here." Matt said defensively.

Samuel met Matt's eyes and then nodded. "Fine, you chose to be here. But I won't drag someone else into it." Turning back to Henry he added. "You know too much already." He looked between the two taller men, they were both a good head taller than the assistant. "He can't see us so he doesn't know we've let any of this slip, but if he found out..."He shook his head. "Let's just say it would be bad. But he does have... instructions for you and me, Matt."

"What kind of instructions?" Matt asked wearily.

"The kind he doesn't want us to tell Drake. Or anyone else." He glanced at Henry and the man threw up his arms in defeat.

"Fine, you two keep your little secrets. I'm gonna go grab myself a drink. Let me know when I can come back into my living room." The man seemed exasperated but he left the room, leaving Matt and Sam alone.

Taking a breath, Sam said, "He wants us to... turn up the heat on Drake. I guess he uh... He instructed Drake to be flirty this evening. Now he wants you and me to compete, to see if one of us can get Drake to take us to bed with him. We can't tell Drake about the orders and we can't let on that we know he's under orders. He said he can't see us, but that he'll be 'seeing us soon' and he'll know. If we don't comply... Something bad will happen to Rick."
 
Trying to remain calm, trying to suppress the mix of emotions that were now bubbling to the surface, Matt allowed Henry to walk away. Samuel was right. They couldn't get him involved any more than he already was. The less the guy knew, the better, even if he was now a part of this madness in a second-hand sort of way.

"So..." he began to inquire, pausing just long enough so that he could gather his thoughts - and calm himself down - before putting them into words. "How would you like to play this game out?" he then asked as he returned to his seat, having practically jumped to his feet the second Samuel had answered his phone. "I mean, this is a game now, isn't it?" he then stated, rather blandly, thinking back to the things Drake had done - or had been told to do - over the course of the day. "A sick and twisted one at that," he then stated, more so to himself, as he looked up to meet Samuel's gaze.

Expecting a reply from the assistant, Matt was actually caught off guard when Henry came strutting back into the room. From the look on his face, he appeared to be at odds with himself, fighting to say just the right thing, so as not to stir the pot more than it already was.

"Listen," he began as he raised a hand to silence both men, expecting them to cut him off, "I may not be as close to Drake as the two of you clearly are, but I would still like to play my part, do whatever I can to make things better for him and his family. If I've learned nothing else, during my time on this planet, it's that family matters more than anything else. More than fame, more than fortune, and certainly more than the safety of one man."

"I want in," he then pointedly stated to Samuel, as he now stood before him, stood looming over him, "and I won't take no for an answer, mate. By Drake coming here, he's already more or less drawn me in, so why don't the two of you do him a favor and clue me in on what's happening to him and, it appears, to you as well."

"He has a point, Sam," Matt then chimed in as he got to his feet once more and joined the two of them in the center of the room. "Besides, he's the only one who can get us into the club tomorrow night. Shouldn't he know what sort of viper's nest he's walking into?"

"While I may not be a superhero in the real world," Henry remarked now as he placed one of his sizable hands firmly upon the man's shoulder, "I'm certainly a big boy who can handle himself," he quickly added, before allowing one of his disarming smiles to slip into place upon his handsome face.
 
"A game indeed," Sam said, seeing the look in Matt's eyes. He was about to go on when Henry returned. He was about to object when the man held up a hand to stop him so instead he just listened intently, curious to see what Henry had to say.

As both handsome celebrities pled the case for Henry to be told what was happening, Samuel inwardly smiled but then slowly said, "Fine. But be warned, once you know, there is no going back. You're with us until the end, whatever it takes." He said, quoting Drake's mantra once more.

"I understand." Henry said with a fierce look in his eyes.

Samuel took a deep breath. Now, where to start? Where did one even begin to explain what was going on. "Cade did not kill Hunter." He said firmly.

The words were a surprise to the actor and Henry blinked, not having expected that. "What? How do you know?"

"We know," Sam paused and nodded his head towards Matt, "Because we watched it. We weren't actually there, but we were treated to a live feed of it happening. Just before it happened, the man that did this told Drake that he would pay for his insolence. That this time it was Hunter paying with his life and that Cade would be paying by being framed for his death."

Henry blinked and shook his head. "What does that mean... that Drake was paying for his insolence?"

"The man that did this... He still has Rick. He was taken the night of Drake's party. He sent of proof that he had Rick and told us that if we didn't want more harm to come to him, we had to play along.... We tried to track him down and he killed Hunter. We have been playing his sick game ever since. On the jet he had full control of the cameras and was watching everything we did. My guess is he was sending text messages to Drake the whole time with instructions. Stupid, silly things... Like making lunch for Matt and me. I only found out right before we landed." He then glanced over at Matt. "I figured he must have told you as well since you were playing along."

Now Henry seemed to be having trouble wrapping his head around all this. "So you mean, tonight he's been acting so strange because some psychopath has Rick and if he doesn't do what they say..."

Samuel nodded. "That's who was calling a moment ago. He was... He told me that Matt and I are to play along, that we're..." He hesitated and glanced at Matt. "He wants Matt and me to compete to see which of us can get Drake to take us to bed tonight."
 
"Excuse me?" Henry found himself reflexively asking both men, after that final and, truth be told, completely unexpected detail was revealed. "Is this some sort of sick joke, mate?" he then asked, more so of Samuel than Matt, since it was he who had actually uttered the words; however, from the look on both of their faces, it was anything but. This, this right here, was what he had unwittingly just signed up for, all because it seemed like the right thing to do. Now, well, he wasn't entirely certain he had it in himself to see this through to the end, not if this was how things were going to play out.

Being supportive, when a friend needed him the most, was one thing, but bedding that same man - bedding any man, as a matter of fact - was something entirely different.

"Forgive me for asking this, but, does Drake...?"

"Does Drake even want such attention from either one of us?" Matt chimed in on Henry's behalf, knowing all too well, as the only openly gay man in the room, where this conversation was more than likely headed. "An hour or so ago, I would've said maybe," he began to elaborate, as he cast Samuel a quick sidelong glance, "but knowing what we know now, I'm venturing to guess that these monsters who have Rick are just looking for ways to, in plain language, fuck with the poor man by forcing him to do things that go against his nature."

"To what end? Why?"

"To break his will, I would imagine. To...to ruin whatever else and whomever else he has in his life. To isolate him, maybe, so that they can more easily take him down like they did with Cade. I mean, just look at how you're reacting right now. You're having second thoughts. You're on the verge of..."

"No!" Henry found himself blurting back at Matt, as he waved a hand to quiet him. "Not yet, at least..." he was then quick to clarify, just as Mikhail stepped into the room, looking a bit worse for wear, with his sleeves rolled up and his tie partially undone.

"Mr. Bomer," he then called, as he motioned for the man to join him.

"I'll be right there," Matt replied as he stepped closer to Henry. "For the record, mate, your rather ignorant 'sick joke' comment won't soon be forgotten," he then threatened, with a look of uncharacteristic outrage in his bright blue eyes, before hastily removing himself from the room.

"Matt, I..." the stunned celebrity stumbled, not expecting to be called out like that. "That's not what I meant," he then managed to state, a bit too late and, perhaps, a bit too loudly. "Seriously. That's not what I meant..." he then pleaded with Samuel, looking rather distraught now. "I...I don't even know what to say at this point," he then muttered to the man, as he ran a hand through his hair, before sighing deeply. "How...how do you feel about all of this?" he then questioned, as he took a seat on the sofa. "Are you okay with following through with these orders?"
 
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