totally horrible iTunes update

I raise the stakes. "Family's important, don't you think?"

He bluffs. "Yeah. Sure." His smile never reaches his eyes.

I call. "That sense of belonging... being cared about... we all need it."

He leans back, steepling his fingers together, and quirks his eyebrow at me. "Maybe."

I slide closer to him on the white leather couch, resting my arm along the back casually. "Everybody needs it. Even you."

He sweeps his hand in a broad circle, indicating the rest of the building. "I have it."

"They worship you. They fear you. They want to be you. But do they give you what you need?"

Steve folds his arms behind his head and regards me calmly. "Tell me, Bill. What do you think I need?" He thinks he's got my number.

I reach out and brush my knuckles across his cheek. My hand settles on his neck, my thumb gently stroking his jaw. "How long has it been?" I ask, one decibel above a whisper.

He's fighting with this sudden bout of nervousness, I can tell. "Since what?"

"Since anybody loved you?"

He just shakes his head, mouth twisting into a disbelieving grin. "You're crazy."

"It's what got me where I am today." I move closer still, until our knees brush. "Trust me," I whisper, leaning in and kissing him.

Selling a non-existant OS to the biggest information systems company in the world was just a warm-up for this. But Steve Jobs needs what I'm offering. I could hear it in his voice when he screamed at me, and I can taste it on him now. Betrayal is his bete noir. All he's ever wanted is security, and it's the one thing he'll never have because he's so damn paranoid. Tragic, isn't it?

And maybe he does trust me, at least, enough to open his mouth and stick his tongue into mine. The next thing I know I'm lying back on the couch, and his hands are in my hair and pulling my glasses off and holding me still while he tries his best to suck my tonsils out. I've got him right where I want him.

I shift underneath him, wrapping my leg around his and running my hands up his back. He groans and moves against me. I can feel him hardening even as he pulls his mouth away with one last sucking bite on my lower lip. Even without my glasses I can see he's staring at me again with those searching eyes. "What kind of game are you playing?"

I grin. "Just trying to get you to relax." I run my fingers down his spine. "Not that you need it, or anything.

"I didn't know you cared."

"Of course I care." My other hand moves up to his hair, strokes lightly. "I want you to trust me," I whisper, reaching up to brush my lips against his. "Do you trust me?"

Oh, yeah. I've still got it. That certain je ne sais quoi or whatever. He wants to trust me. He needs me to give him what he's been missing all his life. And he knows I can, because I understand. We're visionaries, he and I. And it's lonely at the top.

His mouth is on mine again, pushing me back down against the couch like he wants to eat me alive. He's arching over me, leaning on one arm while his other hand finds its way to my belt buckle. He breaks away from the kiss and nips at my neck, hard enough to bruise. I'm going to have an interesting time explaining this to Paul tomorrow. At least Ann's in Denver until next week. There are advantages to having a girlfriend who takes frequent extended business trips.

Steve's tongue traces a hot wet line up to my ear. "How far are you going to take this?" he demands in a soft murmur.

"As far as I have to." My hands slide down to help him with my belt. His touch is making me hard. Or maybe it's just adrenaline. He's kissing me again and I'm kissing back almost as hungrily as he undoes my zipper. I don't have to fake a moan when he slips his hand into my briefs.

"You know," he mentions as he smiles down at me, his brown eyes impossibly twinkling, "some Tantriks believe that a state of spiritual enlightenment can be reached through ritual sex." He does this gripping-stroking thing that makes me gasp. "That a really intense orgasm can give you a sense of oneness with the universe." He leans down to kiss me again. "That the best acid trip ever is a sugar-rush by comparison."

"Well," I grin, moving my hands up to rake my fingers over his denim-clad buttocks. "I wouldn't want to stand between you and Nirvana."

"Somehow I don't think this is what they had in mind." He nuzzles my neck, bites my earlobe. "Turn over." He moves to the edge of the couch, watching with bemusement as I follow his instruction, resting my head on my forearms and looking over my shoulder at him. "Wait a second." He presses a kiss to the corner of my jaw and gets up from the couch. I watch him go to his desk and rummage in one of the top drawers. When he comes back, he's holding a bottle of hand lotion. "You sure about this? Because if you're not, I need to know now."

I smile, close my eyes. "I'm sure." Oh, yeah. "Sure" is my middle name.

He hooks his hand on the waistband of my chinos and briefs, sliding them both down at once. My loafers are easy work and then I'm naked from the waist down, the leather of the couch cool against my bare skin. He runs his hand up my back and leans down to whisper, "Bill, are you a virgin?"

"Yes." Sort of.

"I'll be gentle."

"No, you won't."

He laughs, burying his face against my shoulder. "I like you, Gates. You don't mess around."

"I'm a straightforward kind of guy. So to speak." I should feel guilty. I really should.

He sits up, and I feel his hands hot on my thighs, spreading my legs. I take a deep breath, concentrating on the rich smell of the leather and willing the rest of my body to relax. Leather always smells so good. Even when it's been treated and dyed all kinds of unnatural colors. I should get one of these for my office...

"Nervous?"

"Nah." Really, I'm not. R-E-L-A-X.

"Don't start lyin' to me now, Bill."

I look up, but he's smiling. "Maybe a little."

"Last chance to change your mind."

"Back out just when things are getting interesting? No way." I lay my head back down again.

He traces an idle zigzag pattern from the hem of my shirt to the top of my thigh. "You really want this."

"Steve." I prop my head up, leaning on my elbow and turning to look back at him. He's staring at me like he's having a flashback. I reach out and grab his vest, pulling him down to lean over me. "I want you. We're good together. Aren't we?" I kiss him, nibbling at his lips.

"Yeah." He murmurs his assent against my mouth, opening his to let my tongue inside. Finally we separate, before the awkwardness of our position conspires with gravity to bring us crashing down in a heap. "How'd you get to be such a good kisser?" he asks, sitting back between my legs.

I grin, settling back down. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not completely inept socially."

"Obviously." I don't have to see him to know he's smiling. I hear the rustle of cloth, then the slide of his zipper. R-E-L-A-X... He slicks himself with the hand lotion and leans down to nuzzle the back of my neck. "Relax," he whispers, echoing my own inner mantra.

I bite my lip to keep from screaming when he puts it in. It hurts like hell and I'm wondering if I've finally pushed my luck once too often, and then it's like he hits something inside me and this jolt fires through my nervous system, and I do scream.

He holds still and asks, "Do you want me to stop?"

What? Oh, yeah. Come on, brain... make the language center work... "Oh, God. Do that again."

He's laughing softly as he pulls back and thrusts again. His slow, even strokes are sending electric charges through my whole body, and I'm so hard I feel like I'm poking a hole through the couch. I rock my hips under him, trying to match his rhythm. I can feel him breathing deeper but I can't hear anything over my own moans. All of the energy between us is concentrating in my groin, and then I'm exploding, coming harder than I ever have in my life.

I'm still recovering when he shoots inside me, with a yell like he's focusing all the power in the universe into this moment. He collapses on top of me, and we lie there catching our breath and coming back to our senses. His hand finds mine, intertwining our fingers as he presses his face into my hair.

"Was that transcendental enough for you?" I ask, when I can talk without my voice shaking.

He squeezes my hand. "That was... that was great, Bill." He lifts his head to kiss my temple, then rests it on my shoulder. I stroke his fingers, bringing them to my mouth and sucking at the tips playfully. "Mmmm," he groans, "God, you're insatiable."

I chuckle. "Yeah, I am." Not in quite the way he's thinking, but I am.

We stay that way for a while, just breathing. I don't know where he's at, mentally, but I'm thinking that the leather is starting to feel really hot and sticky on my bare skin. "Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?" He sounds half-asleep. If the couch were more comfortable, I'd probably be passed out myself.

"Can I put my pants back on now?"

"Yeah," he laughs, dragging himself off me. I put my glasses back on and sit up, suddenly feeling really surreal about being bare-ass naked in another guy's office. I hear him zipping up as I pull my pants on and take a quick swipe at the wet spot on the couch with my handkerchief. When I turn back, he's sitting sprawled at the end of the couch, where he was when we started, except now he's more rumpled. His hair is touseled, his shirt is untucked, and he's a lot sweatier. He looks like I do on any given morning. Only... he's got this look, like his guard is down and he's totally lost.

It's moments like this when I'm really glad I was born without scruples.

I sit back down beside him, reach out and smooth a stray lock of hair off his face, then lean in and kiss him. He sort of melts into my arms and lets me hold him, resting his head on my shoulder when the kiss ends. "Bill?" The word tickles where his lips brush my neck.

"Mmm-hmm?" His hair is soft against my cheek.

"Why...? Why this? Now?"

I kiss his forehead. "Because I can." I run my hand up his back to brush my fingers through his hair. "Because I wanted to." I cup his jaw and lift his head to look into those deep brown eyes. "Because you needed it."

"But what does it mean? What does any of it mean?" Jesus, he just fucked me within an inch of my life, and now he wants philosophical discourse?

I meet his gaze, going for the Academy Award for Sincerity. "It means we work. You and me." I do that kissing-nibbling thing that he liked so much last time. "Apple and Microsoft. Together." I murmur between bites on his lip. "We're compatible." I nuzzle his neck. I'm severely tempted to give him a hickey, but people might talk if we both turned up looking like the morning after a night at the drive-in. "Very, very compatible," I murmur, sucking at his earlobe. "The first time I ever heard of you, I knew we were destined to do great things together." I work my way back down his jawline, and brush my lips over his. "All you have to do is trust me." I whisper against his mouth. "You do trust me, don't you?"

"Yes," he breathes, returning my kiss eagerly.

Oh, yeah, I'm the king.

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."

man i'm feeling so OCD angry about this new update that moved the column browser from the top to the left

you know there's an option to put it back on top

grrrrrrrrrrrrrr

i love it, i hated the column browser and its insane clunkiness and mandatory genre shit

guys what the hell is a column browser

just a whole lot of fun for everyone

not even kidding, i have no idea what you're talking about!

ha. i hated it at first, until i, u know, like looked around and stuff, and found that i could put it back

i don't like how slow it runs though. every time i pause or play, or add tracks to my ipod, it takes ages

gbx if you're on a mac, press apple B and you'll see the column browser. so you can choose genre/artist/album at the top of the itunes window

Huh. I always noticed that on other people's iTunes but never really felt the need for it.

you used to need Onyx or something to get rid of genre, now you just hit View>Column Browser

that mariah winamp skin upthread is HOT. i don't give a fuck what anyone says--ws.

so sloooooooow

guys - i am dumb, i spent like 10 minutes trying to move the column browser back up top and couldnt' figure it out, what do i do

man yr dumb. just go to view/column browser/on top

i often will select an album's worth of songs and drag them into itunes to import them. post-update, this only works correctly half of the time. the other half of the time, itunes will just import one of the songs instead of all of them. anyone else experience this?

it's mean to call me dumb after i already admitted i'm dumb :(

your not dumb, you just think things out in a much much much different
way than the norm.

btw Genius is useless.

i'm getting a weird sync issue - when i plug in my ipod, it tells me it can't find 100 of the songs... my external drive is definitely connected. if i go to the songs in itunes i get the (!) but as soon as i click play it finds the song and plays it no problem.

why cant i burn music that ive imported from my desktop and not actually purchased from the damn itunes
store?

I'm mainly annoyed that minimize is now apple-shift-M instead of the green dot

new update. hope this works better

yeah mine kept freezing. the bulleted list of bugs that 9.0.1 was supposed to fix was retardedly long.

is it safe to do this upgrade yet or is it still buggy

seems a little better to me 2 updates later

9.0.2

They've added an option to change the skin of the grid view which is always an admission of fuckup from apple

9.0.1 was a big improvement and stopped my ipod from freezing up. I haven't done the newest one yet

I'm mainly annoyed that minimize is now apple-shift-M instead of the green dot

they fixed this too.