I said we needed a vacation from the fans. So we came here, to Taos, New Mexico, to ski a little and goof around a lot. He had to teach me how to ski. I'm okay now, I guess. I keep telling him to go and enjoy himself on the harder slopes, but he keeps with me. We've got a slopeside hotel room at the Inn at the Snakedance, and the full moon reflects off the snow into the room. I don't know what time it is, I insisted on no clocks, no phones, no nothing.

I'm sitting stalk upright in bed, staring at him. Daniel Jones, my lover. Sounds bizarre even to me.

He's barely covered, just a corner of sheet somehow strategically draped over everything I want to see the most. I'm hard for him, I admit it, but I wouldn't give up this quiet moment for all the frenzied fucking in the world.

I slide off the bed, two in the room, but only one being used. Over at the window, I stare down onto the slopes that have been abandoned for hours. The snow is perfect, it's groomed, a soft powder falling gently. It doesn't look too cold from here. I hear his voice from over my shoulder as he realizes I'm not in bed.

"Darren."

"Here, mate." I go over and sit on the edge of the bed as he pushes his sandy blonde hair out of his eyes. It's gotten a little longer.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"Nothing's wrong, not ever." I say and arrange some strands of hair to slide over his cheek.

"Sentamentalist." He says a little too coyly.

I don't agree or disagree, just happy to be with him. He grabs a shoulder gently and pulls me down, spooning my body with his own, wrapping an arm around my waist possessively.

I love it when he's like this, when he pretends we're just a normal couple with nothing to hide from anyone. When he lets me forget that we're pop stars. I love him so much.

"Darren," he says, whispers it in my ear. Low, seductively, like he's growling. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

I have no idea what he's talking about, and tell him as much. He grips my cock suddenly, almost roughly, enough to make me gasp and arch into his hand.

"Usually," he whispers again, "you let me help with these."

"I didn't want to disturb you." I stammer, trying to hard not to just fuck his mouth or his ass or anything, anything at all.

"Well, it's not my problem now." He says, and releases me. He can be such a bastard.

I turn around to look at him, pleading with my eyes for the release I've denied myself for hours. He shakes his head, knowing exactly what I want. And he's not planning on giving it to me.

"It's your problem," he stresses. Then it hits me. He wants a show. He wants me to be my diva self, just for him. Gladly, anyday. I scootch away from him, spread my legs. I close my eyes and touch myself, imaging it's Daniel's hand spreading my precum around, Daniel's hand pulling at me, rubbing one of his beautiful fingers over the weeping hole. My hand is moving slowly when he calls my name again.

"Open your eyes."

I struggle to tear away from my fantasy, finally able to open them. He's watching me hungrily, like the wolf he is. I can tell every muscle in his body is burning, the way he's tensed up. He has thrown aside the sheet to let me examine his perfections.

"Look at me." He whispers, and I can't not meet his hazel eyes with my blue ones.

"Shit." I say, strangled by my arousal. I can feel myself about to explode all over the bed, my hand. I pick up speed, the slickness making me want to cry out. He licks his lips, maybe involuntarily, probably not, knowing him. And I lose it.

When I finally come down, Daniel's got an amused eyebrow in the air. And he's rock hard, looking very animalistic.

I'm still lying on my back gasping for breath when he hovers over me, kissing me for the first time in hours, hard. He finds his way to a sensitive area I have behind my right ear, and whispers again.

"Turn over."

That's all it takes for me to get back up again, and I turn over to feel my hardness rubbing me crazy against the sheets. He gets me on my hands and knees, his fingers touching me everywhere except where I need it, want it, and he edges his cockhead into my hole. Pleasure, pain, I groan. I don't remember when he lubed up, but I'm glad he did. It doesn't matter how many times he does this, I'm always tight. He kills me.

He's stroking me now, finally, and he pushes into me hard, so hard, but it's so good. I moan his name, I think, along with another strand of incoherent syllables.

"Oh, god, Darren." He moans, as I shove my ass to meet his strokes. I always want it deeper.

He's riding me hard now, stroking me with those beautiful fingers that I can't stop thinking about during a concert, when we're performing.

"Dan, I'm-"

I can't even get the words out before he brings me to the edge of beyond. He's there with me, and we collapse together on the bed, exhausted.

"Darren," I hear him say as I'm drifting off to sleep. "Let's go on vacation more often."