As always, no connection between the events portrayed herein and reality is intended or should be inferred.

“Sick and Wrong” Ballmer’s wildest dream comes true.

“Trust Issues” When Bill freaks out over the antitrust investigation, it’s up to Ballmer to comfort him.

More coming whenever we get around to it.

Trust Issues
by Dara S.

We fought the law. And hey, we won. Well, sort of. The DOJ is still making noises about sanctions, but they’re not going to split us up, which is the best news we’ve gotten since that prick Jackson got thrown off the case.

But you know, as much of a pain in the ass as all of this antitrust stuff has been, there is one thing I’m grateful for…

***

Rewind to 1995. At this point, the DOJ was just getting started with their witch hunt – uh, sorry, I mean, investigation. But to us, it seemed like the end of the world as we knew it. All of us were ready to snap. And wouldn’t you know it, Bill was the first to go.

It happened at a board meeting. Everybody was there, waiting for the word on what was going on. In walks Bill, and right off I knew something was screwy. He looked like a wreck. I mean, more than usual. His eyes were all red, his hair was sticking up all over the place… he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. He stands there, and he looks around the room, and he’s just shaking. I had about fifteen seconds to wonder if I should try to take over the meeting, and then it started.

Man, I’d seen Bill throw some tantrums before, but this was something else. I really thought he was having a serious breakdown. He goes off on this rant about the consent decree, calling Judge Jackson every name in the book, plus a few that he made up right on the spot. It was nasty. And at the end of it all, he slumps into the nearest chair, puts his head on the table and just starts crying.

Well, with a start like that, it was pretty safe to say the meeting was shot to hell. I cleared my throat and stood up. I can’t even remember what I said. But I somehow managed to coax Bill out of the chair and into the hallway.

Once we were out of the room, I closed the door and wrapped my arms around him. Normally, Bill gets a little skeeved out if anybody touches him. But he makes exceptions for beautiful women, and people he trusts. You can figure out which category I fall into.

“This isn’t just some company, some conglomeration of assets and liabilities,” he said, in between sobs. “This is my life. This is everything. And they’re going to take it away.”

“They won’t. It’s going to be okay.” I just held him, stroking his hair as he trembled in my arms.

“Do I deserve this?” he whispered against my shoulder. “Am I that bad? Am I such a horrible person?”

“No. You’re not.” I let my hand rest on the nape of his neck. “You’re brilliant and sexy and I’d do anything in the world if it would make you happy.” Okay, I didn’t say that last part out loud. Because, you know, we’re guys. But I thought it. Just like I’ve been thinking it every day for the last 20 years.

I rubbed his back. God, he was tense. “We’re gonna survive this.” I don’t know if I was trying to convince him, or myself.

He sighed, relaxing a little. “Do you ever think about leaving? Quitting Microsoft?”

“Not without you.” I meant it. I’d rather be by his side on the deck of the Titanic than alone at the top of Mt. Everest. Yeah, I know how gay that sounds. No, I don’t care.

I could feel him smile. “No, I mean both of us. Just go. Start something new. Let the government have this, if they want it so damn bad.”

I thought about it. “Maybe.” My hand settled on the small of his back. “What would we do?”

“I don’t know. Be venture capitalists or something.”

“Maybe we could design the world’s first internet-ready vibrator. I bet that would get us on Janet’s good side.”

“Ewww.” Bill laughed. “I did not need that mental picture.”

“But at least it cheered you up.”

“Yeah.” He looks up. “Thanks.”

Did you ever have one of those moments where you looked into somebody else’s eyes for just a second too long? And there’s this sudden sense of discomfort, and you both look away and change the subject? Well, that didn’t happen this time.

I don’t know what I was thinking. Well, okay, I wasn‘t thinking. If I had been, I probably never would have done something as insane as what I did next, which was reach up and brush the tears off of Bill’s cheek, and then lean in and kiss him.

God damn, Bill has great lips. Full and sensual and soft to kiss. All of this flashed through my head in the two seconds before my brain woke up and said, hey, what the hell are you doing, you can’t just kiss your best friend, who is a guy by the way, in the hallway at work.

I pulled away, trying to think of a good excuse for what just happened and drawing a total blank. I looked at the wall and just started talking, hoping something halfway sensible would come out of my mouth. “Shit, man, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I just–”

“Ballmer.” He stopped me with his hand on the side of my face, turning my head back to look at him. “It’s okay.”

I just blinked. That was so far from what I expected to hear, I thought I must be hallucinating or something. “What?”

“I said, it’s okay.” He licked his lips and smiled nervously. “When you were kissing me, I actually wasn’t thinking about the Justice Department for five seconds. Um… you can do it again, it you want to.”

I wasn’t about to wait for an engraved invitation. I pulled him into my arms and kissed him, hard and long and deep. And he kissed me back. There we were, making out like hormone-crazed teenagers at the drive-in, right outside the boardroom. I guess the most miraculous thing about that afternoon was that nobody walked out and caught us. Finally it dawned on me that maybe we should go someplace a little more private.

“Hey,” I whispered in his ear, “do you want to get out of here?”

“What, like, permanently?”

I laughed, and kissed him. “No, you doof. Just for the day.” I looked him in the eye, suddenly feeling more serious. “Or maybe for the night.” I watched his face for a reaction, wondering if he’d get what I was asking.

The corner of his mouth turned up in a knowing half-smile. “Yes.”

Oh, God.

I grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”

“What about the board meeting?” he asked, as we were hurrying down the hall.

“They’ll get it figured out.” I pushed the button for the elevator. “Unless you want to go back.”

He grinned at me, and shook his head. The elevator doors opened, and we stepped inside. I hit the ground floor button, and then we were all over each other again.

Somehow we made it out to the parking lot and into my car. I held his hand as I drove. We didn’t talk. We didn’t have to.

We ended up at a Motel 6 by the airport. I checked us in. If the clerk recognized me, she didn’t care. We parked outside our room and went inside. I hung the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door and locked both locks. When I turned around, Bill had kicked his shoes off and stretched out on the bed, closing his eyes. I took off my own shoes and jacket, and settled down beside him.

“Hey,” I said, squeezing his hand, “you still awake?”

He opened his eyes and smiled. “Yeah. Sorry, I’m just kind of wiped out.”

I ran my fingers through his hair and leaned over to kiss his forehead. “If you want to sleep, you can. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

He reached up and pulled me down for a real kiss. “I can sleep later.”

That was the last coherent sentence either of us said for a while.

***

As you’ve probably guessed by now, nothing was quite the same after that day. Even when Jackson was throwing the book at us, we still had each other. And we still have each other. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Bill and I are going back to that Motel 6 for a victory celebration.

-end-

And yes, I do need a sound thrashing for even considering this, but it’s not entirely my fault… <evil glower> at the gal who inadvertently put this idea in my head… she knows who she is…

===
Sick and Wrong
by
Dara S.

He walks into the office. The lights are off, which makes sense, since it’s the middle of the night. Seattle rain beats against the window, synchronizing eerily with the flicker of the screensaver on the computer monitor. The light from the screen washes over the pale skin of the man sprawled languidly across the desk.

He stops just inside the doorway and stands there, savoring the sight. Bill Gates, super genius, wonder boy of the software industry and president of one of the most powerful technology companies in the world. Bill Gates… naked.

He’s wanted this for so long… imagined those sensual lips caressing him, wanted to bury his fingers in that barely-subdued mop of hair, thought of getting those sensible, nerd-wear khaki pants off and disproving the cruel jokes about the company name once and for all.

Just the idea is making him hard, but this time he doesn’t have to
scurry out of the meeting room with a binder held strategically over his crotch. He steps forward, heart beating faster as Bill smiles at him.

He feels like he should say something as he approaches the desk, but he doesn’t want to ruin the serenity of the moment. Instead, he runs his hand lovingly down Bill’s body to rest on his hip, then leans down and kisses him.

It’s better than he ever dared imagine. Tangy, sweet, Bill’s own taste seasoned with Jolt cola. Bill’s tongue plays over his, skillfully,
knowingly. He savors the sensation and lets his hand slip down to the other man’s groin. Bill’s fingers find his, guiding him as he caresses the stiffening shaft. It’s intoxicating, feeling Bill get aroused for him. He suspects that his brain might just melt down if Bill touches him. It’s a risk he doesn’t mind taking.

His mouth leaves Bill’s, moving down to suck at his chin and nuzzle his throat. He nibbles at Bill’s collarbone, his hand still stroking the other man’s erection. His tongue laps at Bill’s chest, then licks downward over his belly. His own cock throbs as he thinks about tasting every inch of the most powerful man in the computer industry. A hungry sound somewhere between a moan and a purr escapes Bill’s lips as he nears ground zero.

He wants to hear more of that, wants to know what Bill says when he comes. As he brushes his lips over Bill’s hardness, he imagines hearing Bill call his name. He licks at the head, leans down to take the engorged member in his mouth…

"Ow!" Bill yelps when his overly-enthusiastic lover accidentally scrapes his sensitive flesh with sharp teeth. "This sex is crummy, Ballmer! Totally crummy!"

-the end, thank god-

BWAHAHAHAHA!!! If I have to live with that mental image, so do the rest of you! Ah, insanity loves company…

Disclaimer: The following quotes are taken without permission and out of context. We are not implying anything about the actual sexualities of the persons mentioned. We don’t have to imply anything… they’ve done a pretty good job of that themselves.

From The Journey Is the Reward, by Jeffrey S. Young:

Page 362:

While Steve was raging, [John] Sculley was standing by, unable to correct the flaws in the plan. He was like “a lover so in love with his beloved that he could see none of Steve’s faults,” says Joanna Hoffman. “John wanted to be like Steve, he wanted to
talk like Steve, he wanted to act like Steve, he wanted to be Steve.”

Page 364:

Sculley might have been infatuated with him, but by late in the summer he had started preparing various scenarios. As one high-level executive remarked, “Sculley is a professional hit man. [...] He knew how to build his power, marshal his forces, get all his ducks in a row, and work with the board – and Steve was a rank amateur by comparison.”

Page 397:

At a meeting, Sculley confronted Steve with his backstabbing, telling him to cease and desist. Steve, although contrite at the time, dismissed the whole affair later as a “lover’s quarrel” to his closest associates and quickly forgot about it.

From Pride Before the Fall, by John Heilemann:

Page 52:

The feelings that many Microsoft employees had for their boss went beyond respect or loyalty or admiration and crept right up to the brink of infatuation: in one way or another, everyone in Redmond seemed to have a crush on Bill.

From The Difference Between God and Larry Ellison, by Mike Wilson:

Page 15:

As an Oracle executive put it, Ellison wanted “to stick it to Bill.”

Page 184: [Larry's first meeting with Bill Gates]

He said Gates was “very focused, relentless, with incredible endurance.”

Page 242:

Larry Ellison was a man of many infatuations. [...] And he was positively head over heels about Steve Jobs, to whom he felt so close that “sometimes I can’t distinguish between him and me.”

Pages 289-90:

Ellison tended to describe the things in his life in grandiose terms. [...] He talked about his relationship with Steve Jobs the same way. This wasn’t just a friendship; it was a pairing for the ages, a meeting of the minds, the greatest love of all.

[about the Toy Story premiere]

“I felt what he had done was so wonderful, and I was so proud of him, and I love him so much, it was almost as if I had done it….And so here we were at this premiere, and I’m giving Steve a big hug and telling him all of this. It was a pretty emotional moment for both of us…. It was a great, intimate moment.”

[Steve, about Larry]

“Some of these things, it’s hard to put into words. And some of them shouldn’t be put into words.”

From Apple Confidential, by Owen W. Linzmayer:

Page 219:

“Steve is going to fuck Gil [Amelio] so hard his eardrums will pop.” – Anonymous Apple alumnus

Page 242:

“Nobody has tried to swallow us since I’ve been here. I think they are afraid of how we would taste.” – Steve Jobs

From Apple, by Jim Carlton:

Page 16:

Snapshots from the era capture some of the magic. There is Sculley, an arm draped over Jobs’s shoulder, as they stand smiling on a sandy beach. There they are again speaking seriously to each other while clad in jogging shorts without shirts on. [...] They were the Dynamic Duo, the Steve and John Show.

Page 18:

“I remember swinging my chair to Steve and telling him how much I loved him,” recalls Del Yocam, a respected executive who had joined Apple in 1979.

Page 213:

“When he came in, Kevin [Sullivan] had tears in his eyes, and tried to hug John [Sculley],” says a person who witnessed the encounter. “But John pushed him away.”

Page 127:

That [Michael] Spindler and Sullivan would have been collaborating on something would not have been surprising.

Of all the relationships in the executive suite over the years, the bond between these two men was the closest – and the strangest. There are many theories on why this came to be. [...]

Whatever their motivations, only those two men know for sure. All Sullivan will say about that friendship now is that “I liked Michael Spindler and I like Michael Spindler.” [...] They were like siamese twins.

Page 130:

Apple was ready to get into bed with Big Brother himself.

From The Microsoft File, by Wendy Goldman Rohm:

Page 22:

Now IBM’s PC chief would not be licked by Bill Gates.

Page 25:

In fact, many a CEO’s office had been buzzing at the time about the deceptions of Bill Gates. The man was gaining a reputation for screwing his alleged business partners.

Page 216:

Joel Klein was embarking on yet another probe of Bill Gates.

Page 61: [Novell's Ray Noorda's nickname for Bill Gates was "Pearly"]

Meeting Dates – San Francisco Airport
A Poem by Raymond J. Noorda

We sat in a room together, you and I
Alone together for the fourth time
Perhaps for the last time
Perhaps not!
We had much to talk about –
About the other meetings.

About the excuses and the regrets
Over you not doing what you said you would
and wanted to do
About how I had won what you wanted to win
And about how much you had really
Wanted to come together as one
And I said you didn’t.
And you said you did
It was a disgraceful game
SHAME!

SHAME! SHAME! I know your name
It is Pearly

Page 54:

Philippe Kahn had been stalking Noorda. It was getting a bit out of hand.

From The Plot to Get Bill Gates, by Gary Rivlin:

Page 243:

[Larry] Ellison is the most un-Zen-like of creatures, needing to own or conquer everyone and everything he comes into contact with.

From Gates by Stephen Maynes and Paul Andrews:

Page 7:

In the innermost circles of Microsoft, doing things The IBM Way for OS/2 came to be known by the acronym BOGU – Bend Over and Grease Up – and was symbolized by the jar of Vaseline a group of programmers gave Ballmer for one less than happy birthday.

Page 224:

[Apple's Bob Belleville] “Steve was dependent on Bill and Bill dependent on Steve, but Steve’s dependency was growing.”

Page 228:

[Ross Perot] “I’ll tell you Steve is absolutely a Bill Gates fan. I’ve just heard him bring it up too often. No jealousy, no resentment, all those things that could be there.”

Page 247:

Then it was Bill Gates’s turn, in a version of “The Dating Game” with Lotus’s Mitch Kapor and Software Publishing’s Fred Gibbons. Emcee Steve Jobs asked Bachelor Number Three what he was going to do to make the Mac a success. Bill Gates, clad in a Macintosh T-shirt, replied that 50 percent of Microsoft’s applications revenues would come from Macintosh sales; that was his company’s projection for the coming year. The crowd went crazy.

From High Stakes, No Prisoners by Charles H. Ferguson:

Page 9:

Screwing your partners, alas, is an old Silicon Valley tradition.

From “Mine, All Mine” Time Magazine 6/5/95

Bill Gates wants a piece of everybody’s action. But can he get it?

Stay tuned for more wackiness…

WARNING!

By clicking on any of the below links, you are signifying that you:
a) are of legal age to read smut in your jurisdiction
b) aren’t offended by the idea of two guys shagging one another
c) won’t puke all over your keyboard at the mental image of Bill Gates getting laid
d) understand the difference between fantasy and reality. (Hint: the things depicted in these stories are not reality.)

You’ve been warned. Happy reading!

“I Have What You Need” How far would Bill go to get what he wants?

“Reach Out and Touch Someone, Part 1″ Later that night…

“Multitasking” Steve gets a hands-on demonstration of some new software.

“Reach Out and Touch Someone, Part 2″ One evening in Seattle…

“Keep Your Enemies Closer” What do you say to the guy who stole your operating system and broke your heart?

“What Happened NeXT” New company, old obsessions…

What Happened NeXT

by
Jezebel Slade

Davies Symphony Hall, San Francisco: October 12, 1988

I know he notices me watching him from the back of the auditorium. He shouldn’t be able to recognize me from up on stage, but he does.

These people think they’re on the front lines of another computer revolution. They want a messiah to show them the way, and Steve Jobs is it. If Steve told them to chug a pitcher of cyanide-laced Kool-Aid, they’d give him a fucking standing ovation just before they dropped dead.

Some revolution. A $10,000 machine that’s incompatible with everything else on the market and uses $50 disks. But it’s sleek and black. It doesn’t matter if it’s good, just so it looks good. Maybe aesthetics really are everything. This NeXTSTEP/IBM deal could be trouble, though. NeXT may never unload their hardware on anybody but a handful of gullible academics, but IBM is still IBM. Their operating systems are mine. Hands off, Steve.

***

Yeah, Bill. I see you out there. Once again you’re standing on the sidelines, looking at the new paradigm. What are you trying to prove by showing up here? It’s just business, I’m sure. Everything always is with you.

Take a good look. It’s the closest you’ve been to greatness in three years. And it’s as close as you’ll ever get to it again.

***

The presentation ends with a violinist playing a duet with the computer. The audience eats it up, of course. Never mind that out of the 2,700 of them, at least 2,699 are never going to have any use for a program that plays flawless classical music. All of them are going to walk out of here convinced they’ve seen the Second Coming. But every flock needs a Judas.

***

Just walk away, Bill. You’re out of your league. As soon as NeXTSTEP gets off the ground, you won’t even be in the game anymore. When people can write their own applications in less time than it takes them to drive to Businessland and buy yours, you’ll wish you’d lived a better life.

***

The audience starts to flow toward the exits. Bill mingles in the crowd, but keeps toward the edges as they move into the lobby. He sees what he’s looking for: a door marked "Authorized Personnel Only." He tries the knob, finds it unlocked, and blithely walks through.

"Are you with the program?" A Symphony Hall employee eyes Bill for an identifying badge.

"Yeah," Bill says, attempting to pass the young man.

The employee steps in front of him. "I’m sorry, sir. I can’t let you back here without a badge unless I confirm with your supervisor – "

"Do you know who I am?"

"Sir – "

"Do you want to have a job tomorrow?" Bill glares at the man, then steps around him and continues down the hall.

The young man watches him go, then talks into his walkie-talkie.

***

Bill follows the sound of voices until he finds the green room. Steve is standing by the demo setup, talking with one of his lackeys. Bill watches him and waits.

"Excuse me, sir."

Bill turns around to see two security guards. They are tastefully-dressed, non-thuggish security guards, but very obviously security guards nonetheless, and not too pleased with him.

The larger of the two lays a hand on Bill’s upper arm. "You’re going to have to come with us."

Bill jerks his arm away. "Do you mind?"

The two of them step closer two him. "You aren’t allowed back here. We’re going to have to escort you out."

Bill backs up and finds the doorframe in his way. "I’m Bill Gates. From Microsoft. Now fuck off. Please."

The smaller guard looks even more annoyed. "Sir, I don’t care who you are. If you don’t have clearance, you don’t belong here. If you’re going to insist on making a scene –"

"Is there a problem here, gentlemen?"

All three of them turn their heads to see Steve Jobs watching the scene, a vague flicker of amusement in his eyes.

"Mr….?" The larger guard looks at Bill.

"Gates," Bill prompts him, rolling his eyes.

"…was just leaving," the guard finishes.

Steve smiles. "It’s okay. He can stay."

The guards glower at Bill, but nod to Steve. "Yes, Mr. Jobs." They beat a hasty retreat.

Steve sends his assistant off to make sure everything is set up for the press conference. Bill walks into the room, closing the door behind him. "Hi, Steve," he smiles.

"Bill." Steve turns around and leans against the computer table, folding his arms.

"Things haven’t been the same around Apple since you left." Bill walks over to stand next to Steve.

Steve quirks an eyebrow at Bill. "They weren’t the same before I left, either."

"Their loss."

"Yeah."

"There’s nobody there who’s as much fun as you were."

"Then I guess you’ll have to steal your ideas the old-fashioned way from now on."

"You mean like you always did?"

"You want a history lesson? Later. I have work to do."

"To convince the world it needs this thing? Yeah."

Steve gestures toward the Cube. "The shape of things to come. Take a good look. You might learn something."

"Like how to blow a million dollars of somebody else’s money on a machine the average consumer has no use for?"

"This isn’t for average consumers. It’s for people who want to change the world."

"Steve… people don’t want to change the world. They just want to do their work, and maybe play video games."

"Keep thinking that way."

"It sells."

Steve shakes his head, as if to rest his case. "Sell it somewhere else, Bill."

Bill looks down at the computer. "So who’s developing for it?"

"Everybody who’s anybody is begging us for the privilege."

"Not everybody."

"You don’t know what you’re missing out on."

"Yeah, I think I do." Bill’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Steve laughs. "This isn’t about you and me. This is bigger than that. This is evolution."

Bill takes a step closer to Steve, and reaches for the Cube’s keyboard. "Show me."

Steve catches Bill’s hands. "Wait for the release."

"What’s the matter? Afraid it’ll crash?" Bill licks his lips and smiles. "Or afraid you will?" He intertwines his fingers with Steve’s.

Steve stares into Bill’s blue-gray eyes. "Why are you here?"

Bill grins. "Why do you think?"

Steve sighs, extricating his hands from Bill’s grasp. "As entertaining as it always is to see you, I have better things to do."

"Steve." Bill does his best to sound hurt. "I drove all this way, and I sat through that little smoke-and-mirrors exercise of yours. The least you can do is give me five minutes of your time."

Steve narrows his eyes, smirking in spite of himself. "Only five?"

Bill takes a step closer to him. "It’ll do for now."

Steve reaches out and runs his fingers over Bill’s cheek, then slides his hand around to rest on the back of Bill’s head. "What makes you think there’s a later for you and me?"

Bill grins. "Because there always is." He leans in to kiss Steve.

Steve stops him, fingers clutching in Bill’s hair. "Things change."

Bill looks up at him, eyes twinkling impishly behind his glasses. "Not everything."

This time Steve lets Bill kiss him. Bill’s mouth is hot and hungry on his. Bill’s arms wrap around him, holding him close, and he can feel Bill’s cock stiffening against his hip. Without breaking their kiss, Steve reaches over and shoves the NeXT Cube and its accoutrements to the end of the demo table. He nudges Bill up against the table’s edge and Bill takes the hint, sitting down on it. Steve stands between his legs, running his hands up Bill’s khaki-covered thighs to caress the bulge in the crotch of his Dockers. Bill reaches for the fly on Steve’s jeans, but Steve grabs his wrists, pinning Bill’s arms behind his back with one hand and undoing Bill’s zipper with the other. Steve isn’t much stronger than Bill; Bill could free his hands fairly easily if he wanted to, but he doesn’t want to.

Steve’s mouth leaves Bill’s and kisses his chin, his throat, the side of his neck. His tongue traces the curve of Bill’s earlobe as his hand finds its way into Bill’s briefs. "Miss me?" he whispers.

"Yes," Bill gasps as Steve lightly strokes his sensitive skin.

"Good." Steve brings his fingers to Bill’s mouth and lets Bill suck on them.

"Did you miss me?" Bill asks, leaning forward to nibble on Steve’s lips as Steve returns his slickened hand to Bill’s cock.

"Maybe a little." Steve strokes harder, making Bill’s breathing quicken. "Guess what?"

"What?" Bill moves his hips, trying to get into the rhythm of Steve’s caress.

"We’re going to get to miss each other some more." Steve gives Bill a fast, hard kiss on the lips, then lets go of him and steps backward.

"What?" Bill just stares at him.

Steve grins winningly. "Your five minutes are up. I have a press conference to go to."

Bill blinks, his mouth opening in surprised confusion. "Hey — you can’t just — get back here!"

Steve positively glimmers with mirth as he walks to the door, pausing to pick up a black notebook binder from the couch. "Nice seeing you again, Bill." He starts to turn the doorknob, the binder held strategically over his own erection. "Zip up your pants. If somebody comes in and catches you, you’ll get arrested for indecent exposure, and I won’t be here to stop them." Still smiling, Steve walks out, leaving the door open.

Jaw clenched against an inarticulate yell of rage, Bill slams his hand down on the tabletop. He accidentally hits the corner of the Cube’s keyboard and clutches his aching fingers. "Fuck!" He jumps up from the table and stands there seething until he hears voices in the hallway, then takes Steve’s advice and fastens his zipper.

He waits until the voices have receded down the hall, and then follows them. As he makes his way back into the lobby, a perky young InfoWorld correspondent notices him. "Mr. Gates!" She sticks her pocket tape recorder in front of his face. "Will Microsoft be developing for the NeXT Cube?"

Bill snarls, "Develop for it? I’ll piss on it!" and pushes his way past her, shoving through the crowd to stand at the far edge.

***

Even the reporters are kissing his ass. He’s got snappy answers to all of their questions, and they love it. Saint Steve, Silicon Valley’s Golden Boy. They’d see the tarnish on his halo if they took the time to look, but they won’t. They want the dream, and he’s handing it to them on a plastic tray. Lick it up, suckers. We’ll see how many of you want Steve’s brave new world when it’s coming out of your own checkbooks. And I’ll be there laughing when he crashes and burns.

***

You want to play this game again, Bill? Come on. I’m more than up to the challenge. This isn’t just you and me or Apple and Microsoft. This is about changing the world. Again. And that’s where I’ll always win.

-the end, for now…-

Editor’s note: Once upon a time, there was going to be a sequel to this called “NeXT Big Thing”. Sadly, it never materialized. However, we may not have seen the last of Bill and Steve…

This one takes place some time after the *ahem* climactic scene in the movie, but before Steve gets fired from Apple.

Keep Your Enemies Closer

by
Jezebel Slade

I hate him. I want him. In my dreams, I taste the acid kiss of his betrayal even as I take him.

He walks into my office and closes the door behind him. "Hi, Steve."

"Bill." My stare follows him as he walks over to my desk.

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even look mildly uncomfortable. "Everything okay?"

"No, everything’s not okay. You’re two weeks behind schedule." As long as Microsoft is still under contract to Apple, I own him.

"DaVinci didn’t paint the Mona Lisa in a weekend."

"Don’t flatter yourself." They aren’t artists at Microsoft. They’re just the tools artists use to create masterpieces.

"You’re not still mad about that Windows thing, are you?" He smiles. "It was just business."

"Next time I want your kind of business, I’ll cruise Sunset Boulevard on Saturday night."

Is that a flicker of annoyance that crosses his face? "Steve, that hurts."

If only. I prop my feet up and just look at him.

"Just because we’re competitors doesn’t mean we have to be enemies." He perches nonchalantly on the edge of the desk. "You know, you were the best lay I’ve ever had." He runs his finger up the arch of my foot and smiles.

I fight off the impulse to put my feet back on the floor. "Yeah? Well, you weren’t the best I’ve ever had."

"You don’t have to be the best to win." His fingertips dance over the tips of my toes with more finesse than I would have thought him capable of.

"Is that what the point of all this was? Winning?" I’ve walked on hot coals that burned less than his touch does right now.

"Of course. It’s not personal. You just didn’t want it bad enough."

"Bad enough to stick a knife in my partner’s back? I guess not."

"Oh, get over yourself, Steve!" He jumps up, pointing his finger at me accusingly. "You can cut the ‘tormented martyr’ act. I know you."

I stand up, and take a step closer to him. "The hell you do."

His voice lowers and his eyes meet mine in a staring contest that’s for keeps. "You use people, and you screw people, to get what you want. Telling yourself it’s for some idealistic cause doesn’t make you any better than me."

"What makes me better than you is that I don’t do it for the money."

"Neither do I."

I laugh. I can’t help it. He’s either the biggest fucking liar that ever lived, or else he’s delusional. "Okay," I nod, sitting back down in my chair, "why do you do it?"

He steps forward, sinking to his knees in front of me. "You know why."

I clench my fists as he runs his hands up my thighs. This can’t happen again. I grab his wrists, holding his hands at bay. "Do you ever not get what you want?"

He twists his hand in my grip and strokes the inside of my wrist. "No." He smiles. "And I’m not going to start today."

"Why the hell are you doing this?" I don’t want to respond to his caress, his nearness. "The game is over."

"It’s not over until one of us folds." He slides in closer. "I’m not a quitter. Are you?"

"No." I let go of his hands.

"I didn’t think so." His fingers find their way to my zipper.

I’ll play by his rules, for now.

His breathing quickens as he unzips my jeans. He strokes me through my boxers, teasing before he slips his hand inside to free my growing erection.

I wasn’t lying when I said he wasn’t the best. I’ve had more technically skilled lovers. But Bill Gates came closer to satisfying me, really satisfying and not just quenching a physical thirst, than anyone else ever did. As his mouth moves over my cock, all I can think of is how much it excited me to have him, and how deeply his betrayal cut.

He licks me slowly, deliberately, mocking me with every hot, wet caress. I’ve played this scene in my mind so many times, wanting to use him, to have him at my mercy. But I’m the one who’s at his mercy, and he knows it. He looks up, still brushing his fingertips up and down my length, and asks, "Do you want me?" The look in his eye tells me he already knows the answer.

I slide my chair back and stand up, grabbing his arms and hauling him to his feet. I tear at his belt buckle, intent on ending this the only way it can end. He’s hard under the loose fabric of his trousers, excited by the power he has over me. His zipper finally yields as I back him up against the edge of my desk. I grind my hips into his, kissing and biting his neck. He groans and clutches at my back and my ass. I reach for the top desk drawer, groping for– God damn it. I used the last of the hand lotion last week. For one dark, raw second, I don’t even care.

I won’t do that. Not even to him.

I slam the drawer, cursing. "I don’t have any–"

"I do." He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a tube of Vaseline and grins. Presumptuous bastard. "Anticipating the customer’s needs is part of our total service commitment."

"Great." I shiver as his fingers glide over my skin, coating my cock with the cool gel. "Maybe someday you can make shipping software on time part of your service commitment."

"Don’t worry." He puts the lubricant back in his pocket, absently wiping his hand on his pantleg. "We’ll deliver."

"Yeah, you will." I shove his pants and briefs down. "Because if Multiplan isn’t ready by the end of this month, we’re going to sue for breach of contract."

He kicks his sneakers off and steps out of his pants. "You don’t have to get litigious." He turns around and leans over the desk, spreading his legs. "We’re still partners, aren’t we?"

"Yeah, and I guess I know how much that means to you." I press myself against him, my cock sliding against the cleft of his ass.

"We can both get what we want," he gasps as I run my fingers over his erection.

"Really." God, he never stops the sales pitch.

"You know… adversarial symbiosis… it’s not uncommon in nature." He moves under me, just slightly, a little bit of impatient friction.

"Mmm-hmm." I thrust against him, making him wait. "Nature. Where the predators sneak up on unsuspecting herbivores and rip their throats out."

"It’s just the food chain, Steve. Get used to it."

"It’s really as simple as that to you, isn’t it?"

He looks over his shoulder at me. "Yeah, it is. I know how the world works."

"You think you do." I step back, letting go of him.

He turns around, surprised, and I maneuver him back against the desk. "Oh, come on, enough foreplay!" he protests.

"Ssshhh." I silence him with a finger on his mouth, then trace his lower lip. His tongue darts out to taste my fingertip. I have to have him, now. "Lie down."

He raises his eyebrows but indulges me, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head. I slide my hands under his thighs and lift his legs up, positioning myself between them. His eyes are closed, and a sly smile lurks at the corner of his mouth.

"Bill."

"Hmm?"

"Look at me."

He opens his eyes, and I watch him watching me as I enter him. He clenches his teeth and breathes faster. I move slowly, tormenting both of us. A harsh moan escapes his throat when my cock hits that sensitive spot. "God damn it, Steve, do it!"

I want to. My fingers dig into his thighs as I withdraw and thrust again: slow, deliberate, controlled… barely. It would be so easy. It always was. Bill’s an expert at finding weaknesses and exploiting them. I never expected that my weakness would be him.

I look at him, lying there half-naked and tense with arousal, and I feel my resolve melting into a liquid fire that runs straight from my brain to my groin. His eyes transfix me with searing intensity, daring me to deny him the release he craves. He licks his lips and whispers: "Do it."

Something tells me that’s as close as I’ll ever get to hearing him beg.

He smiles as I speed up my strokes. His hands clutch at the desk edge behind his head and he seems to flex his whole body to meet my thrusts. I drive into him, only half-hearing his moans mingling with my own in a duet of lust and triumph. His eyes close and one hand slides down his belly to grip his erection. I feel his climax when he shudders and clenches around me, but I’m looking at his face, watching him forget to be Bill Gates for a minute.

MahaTantra. It’s what Kundalini mystics call that ultimate orgasmic enlightenment that’s like reaching out and touching God. It’s something I’ve never experienced, and Bill probably never will experience, but right now I bet he’s farther down the road to it than he’s ever been. If he could see the pure, guileless bliss written on his face, it would scare him.

I feel my lips curve into a smile as I near my own completion, electric-blue sensation coursing through every nerve-ending in my body. The last thing I see as I spend myself deep inside him are his eyes snapping open and focusing sharply, icy-calm and completely Bill again.

The exhilaration subsides, leaving only the vague discomfort of being here, like this, with him. I withdraw and let go of his legs, leaning forward to steady myself against the desk and bracing my hands on either side of his hips. I stand there catching my breath, not looking at him, just listening to my own heart pounding. The sudden chill of the air conditioning kicking in reminds me that I’m still exposed to the elements. I straighten up, tuck my sated cock back into my jeans and fasten my zipper. Finally, I raise my head to look him over.

He’s going to have to clean himself up before he catches the red-eye back to Seattle, but he doesn’t seem too worried about that at the moment. His arms are calmly folded behind his head again, and he’s smirking contentedly. "So," he grins, "do you still want to sue me?"

"I will if I have to." I join him on the desk, drawing my legs up and resting on my side looking down at him. He reaches for me and I grab his hand, pinning it to the desktop.

He just smiles. "You won’t have to. We didn’t get where we are today by defaulting on contracts."

"No, you got where you are today by using people and screwing people."

"It can be a mutually beneficial arrangement."

"I’m sure." I lean down and kiss him. He parts his lips, welcoming my tongue and meeting it eagerly with his own.

He’s right, the game isn’t over. But he won’t find me quite the easy prey he’s expecting. I’ve seen his weakness… and I have something he needs.

-the end?-

Bill and Steve will return in “What Happened NeXT”

Reach Out and Touch Someone, Part 2

Midnight at Microsoft. The office is dark, lit only by the cold green glow of a monitor. The computer’s owner isn’t at his desk, and his fingers aren’t on his keyboard.

***

"Oh, yeah!"

"Mmmm… right there…"

"You like that?"

"God, yes…"

"Touch me."

"You’re so hard… you get me so hot…"

"How bad do you want me?"

"I need you now – oh, GOD!"

"Yes! Ohhhh…"

"Oh god… oh…"

"Come on…"

"God! You’re the best!"

"You – mmmm… can call me Bill… oh, YEAH!"

Breathless laughter segues into: "Oh, Bill… harder…"

"Mmmm… yeah…ohhhh…"

"Yes… yes! Oh, god, YES!"

"Yeah! Oh, god! STEVE!"

"Ohhh… you’re so good…"

"I love you…"

"Mmmm… Bill?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Who’s Steve?"

Bill nearly drops the receiver from his shaking hand. "Um… what?"

He can hear the smirk in the voice on the other end of the line. "You heard me."

"I, uh, didn’t say ‘Steve’. I said… ‘Please’. As in ‘please do it to me now, you awesome sex goddess’."

"That’s why I love you, Bill. You never cease to amaze me."

"Amaze you, or amuse you?"

"Both. Now get some rest, lover. You want to be bright and cheerful for taking over the world tomorrow, don’t you?"

"Oh, I have a boundless supply of energy…"

"Mmmm… I just bet you do. If only I were there in person…"

"You’re right. I really shouldn’t tease you. Goodnight, Ann."

"Sweet dreams, Bill."

***

Bill Gates hangs up the phone and slumps into his chair, clothes still in disarray, fingers still sticky. He stares blankly at the flashing cursor on the monitor.

Sweet dreams, should he have any, probably won’t be about Ann. Bill leans forward and types with his clean hand: -Sex makes you stupid.- Wondering if the stakes are getting too high even for him, he hits the backspace key and watches the words disappear.

-End-

Okay, that wasn’t the real Ann, either. I wouldn’t know the real Ann if she jumped out of my soup. Honest. This whole thing is Ballmer’s fault. Bill and Steve will return in "Keep Your Enemies Closer".

Author’s Note: This episode takes place after "I Have What You Need", but before the "this is like doing business with a preying mantis" scene in the movie. My version of Multiplan is probably a lot more MS Office-esque than the real one, but since we’re not talking about reality here anyway…

Multitasking

by
Jezebel T. Slade

"Steve, nice to see you again," Bill smiles. A casual observer, noticing the gleam in his eye, would probably attribute it to Bill’s innate passion for his work.

Steve knows better. "Yeah." His gaze locks with Bill’s. "What’ve you got for me?"

"Oh, I think you’re going to like this." He turns, motioning for Steve to follow him.

Steve falls into step beside Bill. The two don’t say a word as they make their way from Microsoft’s front lobby back to the project lab. "Take a break, guys," Bill tells the three bleary-eyed programmers sitting in front of the Macintosh prototypes.

"How long?" asks the least-scruffy one.

"Until I say so. Now scram." The young men scurry out of the room. Bill locks the door behind them, and gestures toward the computers. "Please… have a seat."

Steve sits down in front of the closest machine. His hand goes immediately to the mouse. Bill stands behind him, his hands resting on the back of Steve’s chair. Steve opens the program menu and launches Multiplan before Bill has time to say "Presenting… Multiplan for Macintosh."

"Hmm," frowns Steve. "It takes a while to load."

"It’s worth the wait." Bill gives Steve’s shoulder a squeeze, and leans down to whisper in his ear. "Trust me."

If Steve is flashing back to the last time he heard those words from Bill, he doesn’t let it show. The program finally starts, with a blank spreadsheet. Steve studies the toolbar. "Nice interface."

"Yeah, I thought you’d like that." Bill’s hand slides down Steve’s arm to settle over the other man’s hand on the mouse. Steve looks at Bill, but Bill’s attention is focused on the screen as he clicks on the FILE icon and selects "Demo". "The beautiful thing about this," he continues, as sample data fills the screen, "is that it’s got a fully integrated word processing capability." He clicks on the Text icon, bringing up a blank page. "Type something." Bill lets go of the mouse, trailing his fingertips down the back of Steve’s hand as he straightens up.

Steve types: -Reality is what you can get away with.-

Bill smiles. "Words to live by."

"They’re not mine."

"Since when does that matter?" Bill’s voice is playful-deadly teasing, like a cat with its prey.

"Are you being randomly bizarre, or is there a point to all this?" Steve’s hands clench on the edge of the table.

"Yes," says Bill, then leans down and whispers, his mouth almost touching Steve’s ear: "Go to the Utilities menu and select ‘Import Data’."

Steve follows Bill’s instruction, clicking the mouse button with more force than necessary, and selects the demo spreadsheet. A chart of the spreadsheet data appears below his typed text. "Interesting."

"Now play around with the Chart Wizard utility." This time Bill’s lips do touch Steve’s skin, brushing his earlobe and nuzzling at his neck.

Steve tenses, opening the Utilities menu and using the wizard to change the chart into a bar graph. "Great. What else does it do?"

Bill pulls the collar of Steve’s t-shirt down to nibble at the junction of the other man’s neck and shoulder. "Go back to the spreadsheet and change some of the data."

Steve flips back to the other page, steadfastly ignoring Bill’s hands creeping down the front of his shirt. He doubles the numbers in the Overseas Sales column and switches back to the word processor.

The bar graph now shows the new figures. "Linked documents," Bill explains, sliding one hand up under Steve’s shirt to slip into the waistband of his cutoffs.

Steve bites back a gasp, and flicks through the menu bar. "Doesn’t this have a database component?"

"We’re working on it," Bill lies, running the fingers of his other hand over Steve’s fly.

"You dragged me all the way up here for a half-completed program?" Steve demands, through clenched teeth.

"I figured you’d want input into the creation process." Bill undoes the button on Steve’s shorts and eases the zipper down.

"Okay, you want my advice?" Steve inhales sharply as Bill’s fingers slip inside his boxers. "Get it done right, and get it done fast."

"Of course," Bill smiles, tightening his grip on Steve’s swelling flesh. "Quality is job one, here at Microsoft."

Steve tilts his head back to rest on Bill’s shoulder, his hand dropping from the mouse to clutch the edge of his chair. "I think it needs a clipart gallery."

"I’ll get right on that." Bill runs his tongue over Steve’s throat, moving his fingers in tantalizing rhythm.

Steve twists in his seat and reaches up to take hold of Bill’s hair. "Why do I let you do this to me?" he murmurs against Bill’s mouth.

"Because we’re insanely great together?" Bill nips at Steve’s lower lip.

"No, we’re just greatly insane together." Steve’s hand finds its way to Bill’s belt and works at the buckle, as his mouth takes Bill’s in a possessive kiss.

Bill straddles Steve’s lap, his body responding readily to the other man’s touch. Bill’s own hand strokes faster, drawing a low growl of need from Steve. "It doesn’t tie up as much memory as running separate applications," Bill whispers when Steve’s mouth leaves his.

"What?" Steve slides his hand inside Bill’s trousers.

"Multiplan." Bill shivers when Steve’s fingers wrap around his growing erection. "Because it’s all run off the same program, it can do more tasks with less memory."

"That’s great, Bill." Steve moves his hand slowly, teasing the other man’s body to full arousal.

"It can convert documents from other office applications, too." Bill nips at Steve’s neck hard enough to bruise.

"Bill?" Steve quickens his caress.

"Yeah?" Bill breathes, never slowing his own rhythm.

"Tell me about it later." Steve presses his mouth to Bill’s, silencing him.

***

"Bill?" Steve somehow manages to sound tired and energetic at the same time.

"Hmmm?" Bill opens his eyes, bringing the ceiling tiles into blurry focus, and turns his head to look at Steve lying next to him.

Steve’s eyes are still closed, but a smile plays at the corners of his mouth. "How old were you when you first realized you wanted to change the world?"

Bill closes his eyes again. "I don’t remember." He reaches across the coarse carpet to find Steve’s hand. "My whole life, I’ve known I could never be satisfied with being ordinary." His thumb traces random patterns over the other man’s palm. "I think some people are just born never to be content."

"Contentment is overrated." Steve turns on his side, leaning on his elbow to look down at Bill. "Wouldn’t you rather be a tormented god than a happy peasant?"

"That’s your problem," Bill grins. "You only know how to think in extremes." He reaches up and pulls Steve down on top of him.

Steve combs his fingers through Bill’s disheveled bangs, finally giving up and leaning down to kiss him. "So what were you saying about converting docs from other applications?" he asks when their lips part.

"Oh, it’s brilliant." Bill’s hand slips under Steve’s shirt, his fingertips playing over the other man’s back. "We’ve developed a function that translates the formatting instructions from foreign apps into the Multiplan equivalent."

"Very innovative." Steve shivers as Bill’s nails rake down his spine. "I think I underestimated you."

"A mistake made by many," Bill smiles. "We’re more alike than you give me credit for."

"Maybe."

"Definitely." Bill’s other hand reaches up to pull Steve down for another kiss.

Steve caresses Bill’s tongue with his own, slowly and thoroughly. Bill’s fingers run lazily through the soft hair at the nape of Steve’s neck.

"Hey, Steve?" Bill asks as Steve’s mouth leaves his and nibbles a path along his throat.

"Yeah?" Steve looks up, meeting Bill’s glittering blue eyes.

Bill grins. "I really love working with you."

-the end, for now-

Bill and/or Steve will return in "Reach Out and Touch Someone, Part 00000010."

Reach Out and Touch Someone, Part 1

Midnight in San Jose. A lone figure stands staring out at the valley below, the dark window framing his darker silhouette. He leans forward, resting his head against the cool glass, closing his eyes, feeling very tired and very alone.

***

"Hello?" The voice on the other end of the line is ragged with tatters of sleep.

"Woz!"

"Steve?… What time is it?"

Steve props his feet up on the desk, not looking at the clock. "I don’t know. Late. Do you have a minute?"

"Um, yeah, sure. What’s going on?"

"Woz, did you ever do something you knew was a bad idea, but you couldn’t help it?"

"You mean like the time in fifth grade when Pete Dahlmann and I were goofing around with the methanol burners and almost burned down the science lab?"

"No, not like that. Have you ever known something… personal… was destined to end in disaster, but you went ahead and jumped in anyway?"

"Well, Steve… honestly? When I know something feels wrong, I don’t do it."

"Yeah, but it didn’t feel wrong. That’s the fucked-up part." He stands up, pacing as far as the phone cord will stretch. "If anybody had told me three hours ago that by the end of the night, I’d end up sleeping with… this person, I would’ve asked them for a hit of whatever they were smoking. But when it happened, it just seemed so… inevitable." He slumps back into his chair with a frustrated groan. "Am I making any sense whatsoever?"

"A little. What did you do, get back together with Arlene?"

Steve laughs, sharply and mirthlessly. "No. I don’t know if this is better or worse."

"Look, are you really sure I’m the one you should be talking to about this? I mean, I’m not exactly Dear Abby, here…"

"Yeah, I know." Steve rubs at his eyes with the thumb and middle finger of his left hand, then leans back, staring unfocused up at the ceiling. "Trust. It’s bizarre, you know?"

"What’s bizarre?"

"There can be this instant, when you’re so sure you trust somebody, and you want to trust them, and then it’s like it just evaporates." He sits up, resting his elbows on the desk. "I don’t know. Maybe it’s just easier to trust with your dick than with your brain."

"Steve… I’m probably going to regret asking this, but… do you want to tell me who you slept with?"

Steve’s gaze falls on the white leather couch across the room, and a bitter half-smile plays at the corner of his mouth.

"Steve?"

He blinks, shaking his head. "Thanks, Woz, but I think I’ve freaked you out enough for one night."

"Hey, my life is never boring with you in it." Pause. "Steve? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, sure. I’m cool." This time his smile is a little closer to real. "Goodnight, Woz."

"Goodnight, Steve."

***

Steve switches the lights off and sits down on the couch, trying to remember the first time he met Bill Gates. The second time, he’d been less than impressed. Could he have been that wrong?

He leans back and closes his eyes, his mind wandering to a more recent encounter. If nothing else, Bill is a master salesman. Steve Jobs just hopes he can afford the price.

-End-

Bill and Steve will return in "Multi-tasking". Stay tuned…