This title is no longer available as of June 2018.

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© 2010 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

He followed Izzy up the porch and into the darkened house but felt oddly reluctant to head to his room. He’d been having a good time with Izzy.

“Want a snack?” Izzy stood, just a silhouette in the entrance to the kitchen, backlit by the moonlight from the bay window.

Given an excuse, Rabin decided it was just that. “Nah. I think I’m just going to head on up to bed.” Bed. The word had a charge to it that made him look away. Even if he was feeling attraction — and that’s probably what it was, strangely enough — he wasn’t going to do anything about it. It was a weird night. One that should end before anything happened. “’Night.”

“’Night.”

Izzy didn’t move as Rabin headed up the stairs. It was a relief to walk into the darkness of the hallway. Rabin walked into his room, closed the door, and didn’t bother with a light. There was enough moonlight coming through the open window to see just fine. Besides, the chancy dark went with the feeling that he was missing something. It wasn’t even sex. It was… He shook his head, unable to come up with anything. Maybe he should head down to Brent’s studio and play for a while. Brent had told him he was welcome, and the guitar often helped him to make sense of his thoughts — or at least calm them. Yeah, do that.

But first, he needed to change. The leather pants and boots were stylish but not all that comfortable. His shirt was off, and he was sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes and socks when the knock sounded at the door. He froze.

“Rabin?”

Don’t answer. Stupid. Izzy knew he was there. “Yeah?”

Without waiting permission, Izzy opened the door, a ghostly blue figure draped in the shadows that were his loose hair and dark jeans. His shoes were gone. He stared at Rabin, expression blank, unreadable.

“What’s up?”

Izzy approached, and Rabin had to force himself to remain seated, torn between equally strong desires to stand up and flee, or stand up and reach for the smaller man.

Izzy stopped at his knees and tried a smile. Long, thick fringe mostly hid his eyes. “Thank you for tonight.”

Rabin summoned a smile back for him. Nothing out of the ordinary here, nope. “You’re welcome.”

Izzy searched his face — for what, Rabin tried not to know. “Rabin, I…”

Rabin frowned, forcing his gaze from Izzy’s. “Look, Iz, we should call it a night.” He’d stay in his room; he’d go to sleep and not go downstairs. He’d do that as soon as Izzy left.

“You’re right.” A palm cupped Rabin’s jaw. “You’re right.”

Startled by the touch, Rabin tilted his face back up. Izzy was right there, swooping down like a falcon catching a meal. Lips. Soft lips. Eager lips. Pressed against his own. At first, Rabin’s eyes stayed open in shock, but the blurred sight of Izzy’s long eyelashes caressing the soft ridges of his cheeks was too much to focus on when sensation ruled. He opened instinctively, his tongue seeking more. With a soft, happy moan, Izzy invited him in, tongue caressing tongue to coax Rabin to explore. So sweet. Rabin forgot he was kissing a guy and just concentrated on the mouth that easily melded with his. When Izzy straddled his lap, it was only natural to take hold of slim hips to pull that warm, solid body close. He fit so well, his slight weight perfect. Rabin slid one hand around back, teasing up the shirt hem to caress soft skin, encouraging gorgeous little moans he could barely hear. Fingers tightened in his hair, that little bit of pain egging him on to tilt his head and open wider. His blood heated with a fine tremor of pleasure.

Slowly, as the kiss calmed, proper brainwave function reasserted itself. Rabin opened his eyes and tilted his head back, but not far enough to lose the little nips and licks Izzy gave his lips. Rabin’s cock was rock hard and uncomfortable in the leather pants, and Izzy’s body pressed warm and willing against him didn’t help matters any. “Wait.”

Izzy didn’t stop, his fingers warm against either side of Rabin’s neck. His hips rocked forward.

Rabin dug his fingers into Izzy’s waist and turned his head. “Wait.”

“No no no.” Izzy’s breath caressed his lips, fingers tight on his skull behind his ears. “Don’t think. Please…just…” They were kissing again. God, it was fantastic. How could Izzy taste so good?

Wait. “Izzy, no. This is –”

“This is fine.” Tender kisses along his jaw. “It’s okay.”

“No. I’m not –”

“It’s fine. I promise. Just this — no promises, no expectations, I swear.” Finally dark eyes focused on his from inches away, pleading. Izzy was trembling — not a lot, but when he was pressed this close, Rabin could feel it. “I need to be close to…someone tonight. And I think you do too.”

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