Love On Display

"Just what the hell is going on here, Jon?" Tom demanded, standing in front of the couch, arms crossed over his chest, glaring heatedly at Richie.

"Tom!" Jon exclaimed and pulled away from Richie, furiously wiping the tears from his face as he stood up to face his boyfriend. "What are you doin' here?"

"Who's he?" Tom nodded slightly towards Richie.

Jon heard Richie standing up behind him, and angled his body so he was in betweem anm and Richie. "Tom, calm down please. I know… I know what you're thinking, but… it's not like that, I promise." He turned slightly to Richie. "Tom Groves, Richie Sambora. Richie's in the band, he plays guitar."

"In the band?" Tom repeated, laughing. "Bullshit!" He spat. "I've seen him down in the club. Tonight and last night. With you. Wanna try telling me again who he is?"

Jon paled and shook his head, taking a step backward and bumping into Richie. He opened his mouth to reply but Richie interrupted him.

"Hey, man, don't. He's telling you the truth. I do play in the band."

"Uh-huh, sure. Jon plays guitar and he's good, I've heard him. So what would he need a guitarist for?" Tom smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"Tom, shut up, please," Jon begged him quietly. "You're embarrassing yourself."

"I'm embarrassing myself?" Tom laughed dryly. "You embarrass yourself every fucking night down there – lap-dancing for strangers in that skimpy excuse for a uniform. Then they pay to fuck you in a private room. What's the matter Jon? Eric taking too big a cut, so you decided to earn a bit extra by inviting them up here?"

"No…" Jon moaned, his eyes widening as he watched Richie push past him and slam Tom up against the wall.

"How dare you…" Richie growled, shaking Tom hard.

"Richie, no." Jon grabbed Richie arm and pulled him backward. "Leave him."

"What’s the matter, Sambora?" Tom laughed. "Did I hit a raw nerve? Forgot that he's nothing but a cheap fucking whore, did you. Thought he could be your boyfriend, that he really cared for you?"

"Tom, that is enough." Jon's voice started to rise as he lost his temper. "I am not… Richie's not my boyfriend, not even a fucking client. You are my boyfriend. Or at least I thought you were. But if this is the way you treat my friends…"

"Oh, so you're threatening me now, are you? Fine! It's not like I'd notice the difference, you never let me fucking touch you any more."

Richie snorted. "This surprises you the way you treat him?"

"Shut up, Richie." Jon snapped, turning on the guitarist. "This has nothing to do with you. It's between me and Tom."

"But…"

"Shut up and sit down, or leave."

Richie sighed but nodded. He sat down on the arm of the couch, alternately scowling and glaring at Tom.

"Actually, I think leaving might be a very good idea." Jon and Tom both jumped, paling as they turned to look at the thunderous expression on Eric as he walked through the door.