“Ah! There you are,” he said to Anthony when he looked up to find him right there.  Hadn't he just heard him at the other end of the apartment?  He shook his head and the coffee came to mind again.    He held up the suits to let Anthony take his choice.  At Anthony's choice, Alex laughed, slightly chagrined, “Good choice.”  He tossed the pinstriped one onto the bed.  He stayed within ear shot of Anthony so that they could speak as they changed.<br/><br/>He took off the upper part of his own clothing to replace with a nice white t-shirt and the pinstriped suit jacket, perfectly tailored to his form.  “This function... Well...”  He began and then laughed. “You need to know fully before we get there, you will have a part to play.”  His voice was coy as if he is warming up to tellin him.  “It is an art exhibit.  I read about it coming up in a memo the other day.  It a huge artist, world renown, but just a small town guy, so he refuses the normal fanfare.  This will be held in some old, revamped brick buildings they first began to make liquor in when the prohibition was lifted.  Of course, times have changed and it is no longer just a huge distillery....”<br/><br/>Alex realized he was rambling and shifted.  As he shifted, his eyes caught a by a movement through the crack in the door.  It was Alex removing the last of his outdated attire.  The body was muscular for the smaller build that was so similiar to his own.  A twinge of something stirred within him.  An allowance or a door cracking just a little in his being to a place he did not know existed yet.  A song entered his mind that made him chuckle softly.  A song so wrong in its message, it can't help but be funny.  A hyperbole of the truth, for which the group is known for.  The Bloodhound Gang's “You're pretty when I'm drunk”.  He didn't normally listen to that style of music, but those guys struck a cord with Alex.  He coughed to cover his chuckle and his shift in thinking.<br/><br/>“But you'll see that when we get there, but there is a catch....”  He paused a moment to hear a small noise from Anthony that tells him Anthony listens as he changes.  His eyes out of habit lifted to seek a face, but the man's back is still to the crack and still unclothed.  That crack in his mind grows wider and the thought of 'playing gay' with this man does not seem so horrid.  “It is a function for homosexual couples only.  So to go, you will have to be my 'date'.  We don't have to kiss or hold hands or anything, just .... you know...  hang with each other more than others.”  A quick flick of the eyes noted that Anthony was done dressing and was turning to the door.  He hurried into the bedroom to change his pants.<br/><br/>Anthony came out of the bathroom, with the bedroom door still open for ease of conversing.  Alex was bent foward in his tight fitting, black underwear slipping his first leg into the pant legs of the silken trousers he was donning.  “It is a rather 'to-do' event and a man who collects art would do well to be there.  Besides, many influential people will be enjoying too much wine and a variety of other things best left unnamed.  A good place to be for someone looking to settle into a new scene.”  Alex continued talking, partially trying to talk Anothony into it and partially trying to convince himself about the party and about Anthony.<br/><br/>Once his pants were fully on, he turned and looked to his dresser again.  “A little brilliance to finish the suits.”  He stated as he flipped open a wooden box.  Silver chaines of various thicknesses, lengths and weights awaited, neatly laid out.  There were rings of various shapes and precious stones and metals in a layer under the chains.  Alex picked out a few thinner ones and tossed one over his head and handed another to Anthony.  He set aside the top layer, to pervey the rings thoughtfully.<br/>