"Cats and Dogs" By Viridian5 2/5/99 RATING: NC-17. Berg/Pete. If m/m interaction bothers you, what are you doing here? SPOILERS: "Two Guys, a Girl, and a Wedding" SUMMARY: Once Berg and Pete get home from the wedding reception, they lick their wounds. DISCLAIMERS: All things here are property of Infront Productions and Twentieth Century Fox Television. Anyone who thinks I'm infringing or making a cent from this is on drugs. If Pete and Berg were mine, they would be much happier, and Berg would have more opportunities for evil fun. NOTES: For Te, Small Woodinat Creature, and Drovar for encouraging me in my madness. This story has not known the touch of a beta, so all mistakes are my own. ==================== "Cats and Dogs" By Viridian5 ==================== "C'mon, Pete, in you go." Pete leaned heavily on Berg. "You unlocked the door for me? That's so sweet." "*You* love me, right?" "Mmm-hmm." Pete affectionately rubbed his short hair against Berg's neck. //*Pete* appreciates me. Of course, Pete isn't too discriminating right now.// "I unlock the door just for you, Pete." //*She* appreciates me as far as she can screw with me.// Berg took off his tux jacket and flung it at the couch. The night's emotional roller coaster with Ashley had left him part enraged, part elated, and all drained. //Damn her, she can't even let me be purely pissed off at her.// He had known going in that she was devious, conniving, and arrogant; hell, those were the qualities that had attracted him to her, made them a matched set. He had never once thought of trying to change her--that would be stupid, and he never understood people who did that anyway--but what had he thought she was going to do? Just unleash that delicious evil on the world and leave him unscathed? The havoc he could cause if he had a partner... But he couldn't help the growing feeling that not even that shining potential could be worth the hell she'd been putting him through. She pulled him in and pushed him away, sometimes simultaneously. //I decided to tell you about my boyfriend if I developed feelings for you. Now I'm telling you about my boyfriend...// She played with his head in ways that even he didn't always recognize at first. He hated the way his pathetic obsession with her had begun to reach into other parts of his life. //Even if she finally gets involved with me, not even the knowledge that I won over her, *got* her at last, will erase this feeling of being humiliated, toyed with. And there's no reason for her to change her ways.// Self-pity got him nowhere. He had schemes to concoct, plans to work through, people to Get. Berg had tomorrow morning to look forward to, when he could tell Pete all about that drunken toast at the wedding reception. //Wait till I tell him what he said. I especially liked the bit about maybe asking that girl at the bank out.// It would be best to go into it when Pete was hungover and penitent. //I'd be doing him a favor. Maybe he won't get drunk next time.// Berg grinned at the thought of his own altruism. //I feel a little better already.// Pete backed up until he fell over the couch arm backward onto the cushions and happily settled into a long, messy sprawl. Even in his misery, Berg could appreciate the picture his roommate presented. Being drunk made Pete even cuter and sweeter; in this state he reminded Berg of a big, sloppy puppy. Besides, he could always benefit from the loss of a few inhibitions. //Just get him soused and stand back for hours of entertainment.// At least Berg wouldn't have to hear about Katie again for a while now that Pete had realized that she wasn't The One. Pete's insistence that somewhere The One waited for him could be endearing or annoying depending on how many times Berg had to hear about it. He seemed more enamored of the idea of having a "The One" than with any of the many women he'd given that title to. Pete lurched up from the couch and gave Berg a hug. "I'm sorry about Ashley." Berg returned it and enjoyed the warm, loose body crushed to his. "Thanks." Then he smiled as he felt sharp teeth nipping at his neck. Another benefit of getting Pete drunk was that it made him horny. It still amazed Berg when Pete did this. //Not that I'm complaining, mind you.// As much fun as straight boys could be, the fallout was usually too much trouble to make it worthwhile. Once upon a time Pete had been the straightest and tightest laced person possible, determined to live his life by the dictates of a carefully planned blueprint. Thus, as cute and sweet and fuckable as Pete was, he had been off limits. Berg had always suspected such people eventually hit a breaking point when they realized that their safe plans for life had become a straitjacket, and he'd been privileged to see Pete before, during, and after such a meltdown. It had been a fascinating process, but he worried about how completely directionless his roommate had become, as Pete went to the other extreme... In any case, Pete had apparently decided he'd been too rigid in his sexual orientation as well and had made the first move on Berg while they'd been watching _Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan_ on the couch. //Like I put up a fight.// Associating Trek with sex wasn't a pretty thing, but poor Pete now became hopelessly horny every time Berg did his Shatner impression, so things had balanced out. //Which is why I do it so often now.// Which led to now, with Pete grinding slowly but insistently against him while kissing him to the point of oxygen starvation. Pete loved kissing, and Berg had begun to enjoy the lightheaded dizziness it usually entailed with his roommate. Why couldn't everything be like this? "Do you have any idea how hard it was to see you sprawled in that chair, drunk and disheveled, at the reception and not do a damned thing about it?" Berg asked in a brief interval when he had his lips free. "I had to watch you dance. I'd say we're even," Pete said. //Oh, God...// Berg didn't know why he started to babble. Maybe it could be attributed to lack of oxygen or all the blood going to his cock. Or watching Pete watch him with such a fire in his eyes. "I always have loved a man in a tuxedo," Berg said breathlessly, helplessly. "Or part out of one. I don't know if they make bridegrooms wear them to frustrate the bridesmaids in their ugly outfits or to make the guys want one another..." "It worked." Pete cut off any more words with his own mouth. Drunk, Pete was more sloppy enthusiasm than finesse, but Berg directed him, reined him in. A little. He was too much fun this way to be held back completely. He peeled Berg out of his tuxedo before taunting and teasing with lips and fingertips, everywhere, in a frenzy of movement and sensation. Moaning, Berg responded to that puppyish eagerness by rubbing all over him like a cat. //Cats and dogs living together... We're depraved.// The thought made Berg happy beyond words. It felt so good to be able to do this with someone, to set aside the mind games and reach for mutual pleasure. He had the hard heat of Pete's cock sliding through his fist even as Pete's hand wrapped around his own. They stroked one another in time with an ever- increasing speed and came almost together, with Berg leading by half a minute. They rested together for a little while, sticky from one another, with Pete's head leaning against Berg's shoulder, before Pete said, "I'm tired." He sounded like a child kept up too late. Berg felt a wave of affection for his roommate. Pete touched something very different in him than Ashley did. His roommate would never quite be a fellow schemer, but Pete was an enabler and appreciative audience and sparring partner and best friend and straight //so to speak// man. Kind and giving and just crazy enough. "Bed, Pete." Berg dragged Pete to his bed and fell in beside him. But two hours later Berg woke up again with his roommate's morning erection prodding his ass. //Good instincts, even in your sleep, Pete.// He took out a condom and slick and stroked the rubber onto the insistent cock. Pete smiled sleepily and looked up through his eyelashes. "Using me as your sextoy again, Berg?" "Do I even have to answer that in words?" Pete slicked his fingers before sliding them down Berg's ass and up into their home one by one in slow, strong strokes. "You like?" Berg gasped. "Dumb question." Seeing how sleepy his roommate was, Berg helped by finger fucking himself with Pete's fingers for a while, losing himself in the undertow of sensation, before he pulled away and impaled himself on what he really wanted. He rode Pete hard, encouraging every buck and thrust with whimpers and endearments. It was all too good, and he reveled in the heat, pressure, sparking nerve endings, and sight and sound of Pete writhing under him, moaning his name. It took only one light touch of Pete's hand on his cock to make him come hard. He watched Pete follow him, enjoying the look of total bliss on his roommate's face. Once they'd collapsed, Berg said, "That's the way to start the morning." Thoroughly entangled with Berg, Pete curled in closer. "*You* start the morning." He plunged back into sleep. //Ah, hell, I haven't really slept in for a long time.// So he did. Hours later Pete woke him with a moan that had nothing to do with pleasure. "Kill me, Berg, please..." "It's not that bad." "Never again. And I remember-- Did I do anything stupid last night at the reception?" "Well, you got drunk off your ass and took the mic from Katie's father to do the toast with the full intention of saying that Katie was just settling because she wanted to get married to *somebody*." Pete put the pillow over his head. "Oh, no. Did I?" "No, you kept that to yourself, but you did say that you'd always hated Katie's gum chewing. That no one should worry about you because you'd be just fine. That you might ask the girl at the bank out--" "Why didn't you just take the mic away and shoot me?" "That would have been too quick." "I'm such an idiot." "Fortunately for you, I like 'em big and stupid. Ow! If you keep that up, I won't share my hangover cure with you." "Which is?" "Nonstop sex." Pete raised the pillow a bit and grinned. "I'm feeling a little better already." Then he abruptly sobered. "But how is this different than Ashley?" "What? Pete, I thought you were old enough that I didn't have to give the speech about--" "I don't mean that. I mean, you're so upset about Ashley having a boyfriend while--" //This could turn bad.// "You're not my boyfriend, Pete." "I'm just your friend who happens to be a boy?" "Pete, you started this." To Berg's relief, the words didn't come out angry and sullen, but their plaintive tone didn't make him happy either. "I--I know. Now I just want to know where I stand." "You're not standing. You're lying next to me, which has its advantages." Berg nuzzled at the sweet spot behind Pete's ear that drove him insane. Pete moaned but still said, "Not fair." "Love and war, pal." Berg had the sudden horrified certainty that Pete would ask which one they were engaged in. //Dumb! Left myself wide open on that one.// But Pete just looked at him and didn't say a word, seeming to realize that Berg had gotten the point already. //We know each other that well. It's frightening. //You're so many things to me.// "You're my best friend, Pete." Berg tried to say the things he couldn't put into words into his kisses, which became ever more heated. Pete seemed to understand. "As long as I'm your best." **********************THE END***********************