I desire to be with you. I miss you. I feel lonely when I can't see you. I am obsessed with you, fascinated by you, infatuated with you. I hunger for your taste, your smell, the feel of your soul touching mine.
Oh. Momma told me not to tell you that your bed squeaks. But I think you know, 'cause I could hear it this morning. Jake dropped his fork. Tor, for the first time Jake had ever seen, turned scarlet. Maureen looked at them both and sighed. Christmas is always so interesting with you, Mark.
I hated myself, and the part of me that was cowardly wished for a simple solution: an exchange of pain for forgiveness. But life didn’t work that way, and fucking up was forever.
If you’re trying to reassure me, don’t make it sound like you want to eat me.” Tarn leaned in farther, letting the long twists of his hair fall to brush Gard’s cheek. Then he murmured, putting a little growl into it, “I do want to eat you. I like the way you taste.
Sex was lovely. Sex was sublime. Sex was flesh and cock and suck and fuck and come. This night sex was starlight. Sex was oxygen. Sex was us, and we were beautiful, beautiful and perfect in each other's arms.
He swallowed, and his voice was a bit rough, but he was You know, I think moving is key to this whole fucking thing.This does t feel good? Gavin kissed under Jamie's ear while rubbing circles around his nipples with a hard palm. What is this, Fucking For Slackers?
...Ty grabbed my phone and threatened to tell Otter that I liked being spanked during sex.This proceeded to lead up on a long tangent where I had to have him explain to me how he knows about stuff like people getting spanked during sex. H said he might have heard it mentioned while watching MSNBC. I told him he was grounded from watching the news channels for a week. That's where this whole sidebar should have ended, but then I was forced to explain S & M and bondage to my little brother, who was persistent on the topic, and who kept staring at me with mounting horror when I finally /did/ explain, and I realized I had maybe gone too far, and we had to spend the next five minutes swearing to God that I had never nor would I ever attempt to do anything like that. He might now be the only nine-year-old who has heard the terms cock ring and fisting. My parenting skills are unparalleled.
Getting caught is what I do best. It is either a natural talent (which means we can blame my family genes) or a well-hewn craft (in which case we can still blame my parents).
Lachlan frowned as he misjudged the distance and his forehead hit Cormag's head with a bump. He wrapped his arms around his neck to steady himself, two big hands reaching up to hold onto his arms as if to offer extra support. “You,” he began, talking quietly into his ear, “are so beautiful,” he confessed, resting his heavy skull against Cormag's for a moment.He meant it as well. Cormag was stunning. He was taller and broader than he was, very much the fine figure of hotness. His dark hair was well kept, but a little messy, he had amazing bone structure; the type that made him look more like a model than a museum manager. A chiselled jaw, nicely defined cheekbones and a rugged quality thatmade him so appealing. He had never noticed how handsome a male face could be until those eyes drew him in.“And so are you,” his companion chuckled, “but we discussed this…I've ruined every relationship I've ever had. I get needy, possessive and my baggage gets in the way.Besides,” he lowered his voice to a whisper and brushed his hand over his upper arm, “You're not gay,” he protested, reminding him yet again that they were different.“Nope. Not gay,” he agreed with that, nodding his head as he pulled back a little to see him better. “But that doesn't make you any less beautiful. Why is it wrong that I can see how special you are?” he asked, having difficulty understanding why part of his brainwas telling him he was being a drunken idiot and that the man before him wasn'tattractive. But the rest of his brain – about ninety-eight percent of it – was telling him that he was the most attractive person he'd ever seen.“It's not, Lachlan. It really isn't.”“But it's somehow wrong for me to tell you?” Lachlan wondered, glancing across the bar to see Matteo smiling at him. He didn't know what it meant.Cormag cupped his face, capturing his undivided attention again. “No. Not thateither. But it makes it hard for me to keep my distance. You're stunning. Inside and out,” he claimed, with chocolatey eyes that said he meant every word.
Cormag caught his hand and pulled him back until they were facing each other. “I think you're amazing,” he said, blurting the words out.Lachlan smiled, completely shocked and thrilled by how captivating he found him.He had never thought this could happen to him, that he would be attracted to another boy.He thought he knew himself so well.“I think you're smart, sexy, funny as hell. You have hidden depths, Lachlan. You only need the right person to coax you out of your protective shell,” he claimed.“Are you the right person?” Lachlan wondered, as he took a half step forward.Cormag took a deep breath and brushed at a strand of hair that was sticking out at a funny angle from behind the top of his ear. He tugged at his short hair every time he talked about his recent break up. He was such a dork.
He shook his head and thought about it for a second. “Maybe I'm not straight? Can I still be straight when I'm sitting here looking into your eyes?” he asked. Maybe it was the alcohol talking or maybe he wasn't as straight as he thought he was.“Yes. Absolutely.” Cormag nodded and watched him closely.“Even when I think they're so pretty? They are, you know. So many different shades of brown…and a little green. Just a touch; not a lot. So pretty.” He sighed happily, watching those dark eyes staring back at him in surprise. He lay his head on his arms, smiling at the way Cormag flushed in embarrassment and turned his full attention onto his bottle of beer.“Wow, you are super drunk.
And now he smiled at me. All teeth. The way only people who hadn’t learned self-consciousnessknew how to smile.
They had kissed so often in lust, in passion, but never like this.This felt like a renewal, a pledge… A beginning.
So he slips his head off of Jeff's shoulder and slides out from under Evan's Armand shuffles down to the bottom of the bed. It doesn't have a lot of dignity this part of their sleeping arrangement. He's complained about this before but Jeff just nodded, and Evan had kissed the back of his neck, and they'd both snuggled in a little tighter, pinning him in the middle even more effectively than before.
It was real sweet, except that he'd drugged me and ridden me to within an inch of my life, and I was still so high I was paralyzed and mute. But other than that, I guess it was pretty romantic.
Do you like my brother? And there goes Dan's confidence. He keeps his eyes resolutely on the field. Uh... yes? I mean... I think everyone likes your brother, don't they? She leans over and gives him a little hip check. No, you know what I mean. Do you /like/ him? Dan just states out at the horses, hoping that one of them will do something, anything, to distract this girl from her question. But the horses just keep grazing and Tat continues. 'Cause he likes you. I mean, he likes Jeff, too, but... you can like two people at once, right? Uh... yes? I think you can like two people at once. Yeah. I know it's none of my business or whatever, but... I just wanted to make sure you know... if you like him, that's cool with me. I mean, I like Jeff too, but... you know. Dan has a brief moment of wanting to shake her. No, he /doesn't/ know. Is everything really so clear to everyone but him? Is he just adding extra complications where they don't need to be? Then he remembers that he's talking to a fifteen-year-old girl. Maybe she shouldn't be the arbiter of what's simple or complicated. He realizes that she's still waiting for a response from him. Okay, well... thanks for letting me know. Are you guys going to, like... date?Sweet Jesus, Tat, I don't know! Possibly that's a bit of an overreaction, but she looks more amused than upset. All right, all right.... She gets a mischievous look in her eyes.
Make that cage golden, it’s still a fucking cage.”“Wel , in the absence of other options, gold will have to do.
My latest battle had nothing to do with The Company, the rebels, or any other faction. It was out-and-out warfare between my head and my heart. Keeping it cool during daylight, versus nighttime, when I unleashed my passion for him. ... Turned out the Wilderness was a lot more hostile than me.
Shock? More like shellshock at this point. Blondie knew I was gay, yet he was a Company Exec or else he wouldn’t be here. I was his butt boy in the worst possible way.When I squinted at him, he gave nothing up. Neither did I. I had shit on this newly minted man too.Double fucking jeopardy, jackass.
So damn pigheaded. I’ve studied you, not to report you, Caspar, but because I want a relationship with you.
I’m wondering how long I have to deal with this bullshit before I can brief my troops. Oh, and I gotta feed my goldfish. Let’s get this straight, Blondie—”“Blondie?”“That’s an insult, not a pet name.
You’re an assignment, not an assignation. Soon as I get your pretty boy ass through the Wilderness and deliver you to the Outpost, you’re no more than a stain to spit-shine off my boots.
It never was about the musician or the instrument - it was about the laser notes in a hall of mirrors, the music itself. It was going to change the world for the better and it has. Maybe not as fast or as much as we wanted, but it has and it still will. Whether your name is Mozart, or Django Reinhardt, or Robert Johnson, or Jimi Hendrix, or whoever is next; who you are doesn't matter so long as you can open that conduit and let the music come through. It is the burning edge, whatever it sounds like and whoever is playing it. It is the noisy, messy, silly, invincible voice of life that comes through the LP on the turn-table, the transistor radio, or the Bose in your new Lexus that makes you want to get up out of whatever you are stuck in and dance. It is Dionysus and the Maenads all over again. No one can control it and I pity whoever tries. I am old now and only a house cat sunning herself in the window - but I was a tigress once, and I remember. I still remember.
When have I ever given him the impression that I was okay with him just stopping by whenever he wanted to use my body as an organic garbage disposal?
...leaning down for a quick peck on Jeff's lips, and then he starts squirming and rearranging and manhandling until somehow they end up with Dan in the middle, Jeff stretched out on his left side, Evan on his right. Dan isn't really sure how that happened, and he's not at all confident that it's a good idea.
Be careful of him Dai, whether you agree with me or not that boy is a time bomb just waiting to explode, and when he does he’s going hit everyone in his way including you . . . or especially you.-- Benjirou Uie warning Dai about Kane from Game Boys
Jules rested the violin and bow on the case and sat down next to Jason. He hesitated for a moment, watching the older man with uncomfortable intensity, then reached for Jason and brushed a single tear from his cheek. For Jason, the touch was electric, and his physical response unexpected.“Bach always touches my soul,” Jules half whispered. His fingers still rested against Jason’s cheek. “He must have known great love, and great pain, to write something so powerful.” Jason realized that his own pain must be showing on his face, because Jules, too, looked sad.I’ve never been religious,” Jules said, his eyes never leaving Jason’s, “but I played this piece in a tiny church once. It was like God was there with me, speaking through me.”When Jason remained silent, Jules leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. At a loss to explain the intense emotional and sexual response of his own body and equally unable to stop himself, Jasonreached for Jules and returned the kiss. The younger man’s lips tasted of wine and musk, and Jason realized that he was hungry for more.
Creed scowls. Hardly. All he does now is mope like a goddamn teenage girl. Anytime I'm home, he's in his room with the door locked. I'm telling you guys, he got worked over really bad in San Diego. I thought the whole point of having a gay brother was that they were supposed to be all cool and shit. I got a defective gay.
He hesitates, then says, You don't think Otter... gets offended by what I say? He begins to speak faster. I mean, I don't care who Otter sleeps with. I don't care that he's a fa- gay. I don't care that he's gay. Why would I ? He grins thinly. He's my brother. You don't turn away from someone like him just because he likes sick instead if the good stuff.
But my point is, homosexual is genetic. ‘Gay’ is a choice. ‘Gay’ is the admitting to yourself that you are not only homosexual, but you embrace it. You find joy in it. You’re thankful for it!
The tiny focal points of pain still glowed on his nerve endings, like stars coming into view one by one in a dark, bare sky. One by one—in the middle of his buttock, just below his collarbone, on the inside of his thigh—more stars came into focus, each glowing brightly at first before settling into the same intensity as the ones before, slowly forming a constellation.
You're doing it wrong.Son, I've got a gun to your chest and you're telling me that I'm doing it wrong?YesHow?Closer isn't better. He disarmed her with a swift motion, then offered the weapon back to her. Further away you are, the less unpredictable I can be.Della's eyes had opened wide with surprise, but she recovered fast. Took the shotgun back and said, Okay. Knock again so we can start over.