Hot Summer's Night

Title - HOT SUMMER’S NIGHT
Author - Rina
email - rina762003@hotmail.com
Disclaimer - Boys aren't mine. Story is but. And for you, it's free!
A/N: This was inspired by the moist heat of the Australian summer...


“And I think about it all the time
Sweet temptation rush all over me
I think about you all the time
Passion, desire so intense
I can’t take any more

I feel the magic all around you
It’s bringing me to my knees
Like a wannabe, I gotta be
Chained to you

I think about it all the time
Is this fate, is it my destiny?
I think about you all the time
I no longer pretend to have my hands on the wheel.”

Chained to you. Lyrics by Savage Garden.

***


It was a sweltering, sultry night, the kind of night where the air is heavy and thick and cicadas gathered in the trees lining the streets and droned their non-stop call, a constant buzzing in the background. Richard couldn’t sleep. He was too hot. He put the air conditioner on and it was too cold. He put more blankets on and just about cooked himself, so he threw them off again. He tossed and turned, restless and flustered and finally couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Fuck!” He got out of bed and reached for a t-shirt, grumbling, “I fuckin’ hate summer.”

He loathed getting all sweaty and bothered, unless he was having sex. Which he certainly wasn’t. In fact, he hadn’t had sex for weeks and it was starting to get to him. Marjorly. Oh, sure, he could have gone out tomorrow and picked a girl up just like that, as fast as clicking his fingers. There were dozens of chicks at school who’d put out for him. But he didn’t want them. Any of them. There was only one person he wanted and he didn’t even know why. Or if said person even swung that way. Shit, he didn’t even know if he himself swung that way. All he knew was that it was driving him crazy and he couldn’t think of anything else. So, fuck it. He was gonna do something about it. Tonight. Right now.

He went to Justin’s house. Climbing up the drainpipe and onto the roof, he discovered Justin’s window was wide open to the evening air. Granted, it was blisteringly hot, but it still wasn’t a wise thing to do. Especially in this day and age. Anybody could have just waltzed on in. Absolutely anyone. Like him.

Richard nimbly sneaked in through the window like a cat burglar. Justin’s room was darkened but enough light filtered in from the streetlamps outside to softly illuminate the slumbering male figure sprawled on the bed. Richard stopped dead in his tracks.

“Woah,” he breathed, his heat thumping. Justin was starkers!

Well, almost. He was lying on his back and there was only a thin blue sheet draped over his narrow hips, barely covering his manhood. There was a line of fuzz running from under his navel to low on his abdomen, joining up with tight brunette curls that disappeared beneath the sheet.

Woah, mama.

Richard stood and stared at this vision of loveliness, his mouth going dry. Justin’ s head was turned to the side into his pillow and one arm lay beside him on the mattress while the other rested above his head, revealing the patch of hair under his arm and his flexed bicep muscle. Richard’s eyes trailed over the sleeping boy’s blemish-free creamy skin, the fragile structure of his collarbones, his gently rising and sinking chest, his tiny pink nipples, the corrugation of his ribs, the concave expanse of his belly and the jut of his hipbones. He could make out the shape of Justin’s long legs under the bunched-up blue cotton material and there was an enticing bump right at the juncture of his thighs, hidden yet glaringly obvious at the same time.

Justin was utterly nude under that sheet. Richard’s face suffused with warmth but it had little to do with the high temperature outside. He swallowed.

Breathe, Richard. Just breathe. It’s not like you’ve never seen a naked guy before. There’s the boy’s locker room, remember? Plenty of manflesh in there. Yeah, I’m cool. I’m used to this. Uh huh. I’m cool.

But he couldn’t recall ever seeing anything quite so arresting in the locker room as this. He jumped a little, startled, as the object of his scrutiny stirred, turning his head to the other side and sighing in his sleep. But he didn’t open his eyes. Justin moved his hand down to his chest, brushing over a nipple on the way and Richard watched, fascinated, as the dusky peak hardened before him. Justin sighed again and the tip of his tongue came out to dart across his ever-puffy lips. Richard exhaled slowly and rubbed the back of his neck, the room feeling awfully stifling all of a sudden, like an oven turned all the way up. He felt a trickle of sweat drip down his spine, between his shoulder blades, and found to his mild shock that he was erect.

“Holy shit,” he muttered at his own unconscious physical reaction to Justin’s simple presence. He knew somewhere in the recesses of his mind that he shouldn’t be here, standing in Justin’s room and observing him sleep like some kind of psycho stalker, but he couldn’t bring himself to move or tear his eyes away from the erotic sight the pale, slender seventeen year-old presented. He had forgotten what it was that he intended to accomplish by coming over here. Perhaps he had been prepared to rouse Justin out of his repose for a talk, to try and discern in a roundabout way what Justin really thought of him, but now he didn’t want to. He didn’t want Justin to wake up. He wanted to stay here, like this, and just look at him.

Christ Almighty. He’s gorgeous! I had no idea. Well, okay, I had SOME idea. I mean, duh, look at his face. Pretty, and big lips like a girl. But like this, in the buff, nipples showing, with just a sheet over his you-know-what like a goddamn Playgirl pinup?...Wow. Double wow. This is spank bank material, baby. Yeah!

Very carefully, so he didn’t make any loud sounds, Richard rolled Justin’s office chair away from his desk, pushed it beside his bed, and sat in it the opposite way, so he could cross his forearms over the backrest and sit his chin on his arms. He was probably gonna be here for a while and it was a hell of a lot more comfortable than standing.

Justin moved a bit and Richard heard a mumble come from his direction. He grinned. Justin talked in his sleep. Well, well. This could get quite interesting. He listened closely but to his dismay, couldn’t understand what on earth Justin was saying. It was just slurred rambling. He recognised odd words here and there but nothing really comprehensible or blackmail-worthy. Darn.

Gazing at Justin’s serene face, Richard wondered what the kid was dreaming about right then. With Justin’s highly-evolved brain, Richard could only imagine what sort of fantastic night-world his friend could conjure up. He doubted it would involve bikini-clad babes or pool parties like most other teenage boys tended to dream about. Justin probably invented theories and worked out equations and intelligent shit like that. That’d be more like it.

The nocturnal babbling started to change into little sighs and murmurs, gradually deepening in pitch and intensity. Hmm. It nearly sounded like…

Fuck! Richard exclaimed under his breath. It was! Justin was making sex noises! Now, he REALLY wanted to know what Justin was dreaming about.

Is it me? Jesus, I hope it’s me. Don’t be an idiot, Richard. Of course it’s not you. Why would it be you? Shut up. It could be me. Yeah, right. Him? Into somebody like you? Shut up. Shut the fuck up!

Burning up now, like he was in the middle of the Sahara Desert, Richard quickly stripped his t-shirt off and wiped his perspiration-soaked brow with it. Justin moaned and the hand that was on his chest slid down lower, onto his stomach. Richard was on the edge of the seat with anticipation and excitement.

God. He sounds so sexy. Is this what he sounds like when he’s getting blown? When he’s fucking someone?

A furious slash of jealousy ripped through him at the thought of Justin with a girl, her filthy hands on that pure, milk-white skin, contaminating him, using him, syphoning out his life-force like a succubus, an evil she-demon.

Whores. Dirty whores. They don’t deserve to have him. They’re not good enough for him. They don’t appreciate him. Nobody does. Except me.

He didn’t even know if Justin slept with girls because he was fiercely private about personal information like that, but Richard didn’t like the thought of it. At all. He didn’t want Justin making these noises for anyone. Not ever. Unless it was him.

Justin shifted on the bed and the sheet slithered down a little, but not enough to reveal anything but more pubes. However, he could now see a tell-tale outline through the material that proved the sleeping boy had a semi. Oh, yeah. Definitely a sex dream.

Richard’s excitement was wound up a couple of notches when he attained the kinky notion that if he was really, really lucky, he might be able to watch Justin come in his sleep. Oh man. That would be so fuckin’ awesome!

He began to rub his own erection through his shorts. He was wearing those trendy long shorts that were almost cut-off pants, ending halfway up his calves. It was too hot to wear full-length trousers and his legs were too hairy and skinny to wear anything that was above the knee. But Justin’s legs weren’t. His pins were almost as shapely as Elle Macpherson’s. The dozing boy had kicked the sheet off his legs when he moved around and now all the cotton material that remained on his body was that strip across his groin, annoying and tantalising at once, showing the bulge of his package but not showing it.

Move, Justin. Move. Make it fall off. Let me see the goods.

He tried to send the message telepathically through the air into Justin’s brain. Justin gave a small groan and his hand slid down his belly a couple of inches, but still no dramatic unveiling. Richard was biting his lip in suspense and he squeezed the hardness of his own dick impatiently. The expectation was driving him insane.

A dark spot appeared on the blue sheet over Justin’s crotch and Richard swore to himself with the arousing knowledge that it was the other male’s pre-come leaking out. Richard’s own lubricating fluid was oozing freely now and he opened the front of his shorts and took out his swollen organ, slicking the clear goo around with his palm and using it to help him jerk off. Bloody hell. He’d never been so indecently horny in his life.

“Oh fuck, Justin…”

With horror, Richard realised he had actually muttered out loud and stiffened, halting the movement of his wrist, hoping to Christ he hadn’t given himself away. But he hadn’t. Justin was still sleeping, his eyes still shut, his lashes feathering on his cheeks. Richard commenced breathing again and continued stroking himself, unable to stop now. If he stopped, his balls would explode. His obsession had to be sated and he wasn’t leaving this room until he’d shot his load, whether Justin woke up or not.

Justin’s juicy lips were parted, the edges of his front two teeth gleaming in the dim light. His head was turned to the right, his light brown hair falling gently over his cute little ear and curving under his strong jaw. He made another low moan and drew his brows together in a moue of sensual enjoyment.

Who the fuck is he dreaming about? Who’s doing things to him in his sleep? Who’s the unworthy bitch? Who is it? WHO?

Richard almost sobbed. The question was bugging him and driving him wall-crawling mad. But not as mad as that fucking irritating, stubborn bit of cloth which simply refused to budge despite his repeated mental urging. He wanted to see what was under it. He needed to see under it. So, so badly. He silently pleaded with Justin to roll over, to twitch, to stretch, anything. Just move.

Move your fuckin’ ass, Justin. Get rid of that sheet or I’ll come over there and do it for you. Don’t do this to me. You’re killing me, dude. Seriously!

Just when he couldn’t take the torture anymore and was about to go over and snatch off that infuriating sheet, Justin moved his leg, pulling his knee up and tilting his hips at an angle. The last remaining scrap of blue cotton slipped away with a quiet whisper.

Omigod. Omigod. There it is. Justin’s cock. I can’t believe it. I’m actually looking at his cock! And, oh, it’s beautiful. Thank you, God.

Richard hungrily feasted his eyes on the now unconcealed length of hard, veined male flesh lying in the crease between Justin’s groin and thigh and increased the pace of his masturbating. In his head, he’d visualised many times what Justin’s dick would look like and the reality was not a let down. Long, smooth, straight. Perfect. Every single part of Justin was perfect. He was like a marble carving, a statue, a modern day Adonis. And he wasn’t a lifeless imitation or a myth. He was real. He was living and breathing and so close to Richard that he could reach out and touch him if he dared.

But he didn’t dare. He kept jerking off, mesmerised and captivated, waiting on tenterhooks. Waiting for more. To see what else Justin would do. Or say.

“Mmmm.” Justin murmured, a throaty, seductive purr. “Mmm, yes…” His fingers crept into the tangle of curls over his pubic bone and paused there. Richard had to hold back a curse of bitter disappointment.

Aw, fuck. Not now. Keep going. Lower. Just a bit lower. C’mon, Justin. Do it for me.

Obstinately, Justin’s hand stayed right it was. Richard had to wipe his face with his shirt again. Everything he was seeing and hearing here in this room, on this muggy, torrid, tropical night, was making him so scorchingly hot, he felt like he had a fever. Sweat was pouring off him. He prayed to God, and several other deities, to make Justin slide his hand down just one short, measly inch. That’s all. One more inch and he’d make contact. That’s what Richard wanted with all his being. He ached with it. His dick ached with it. He wanted to see Justin touch himself. It looked like Justin wanted to do it as well but for some reason he wasn’t going ahead. It was like he knew, even in his sleep, that Richard was there and wanted to make him suffer, to torment him, to tease him, just for fun.

Bastard. Cruel, heartless bastard.

And he was still making those noises.

“Ah…mmm…oh…ooh…”

For Chrissakes! Just fucking touch it. Touch it. Please, oh please. Fuck. PLEASE.

Richard was practically whimpering in his desperation. He got off the chair and knelt on the floor beside Justin’s bed. For an instant, he considered grabbing Justin’s cock and doing the job himself, to hell with the consequences. Then Justin made a breathy moaning sound and he was irresistibly drawn to the seventeen year-old’s face.

His exquisite, fine-boned, angelic face.

At that moment in time, in the silvery-gold light, Richard thought Justin had never looked so indescribably beautiful. He extended the fingers of his right hand, hovering mere millimetres from Justin’s cheek. Richard wanted to feel him, to see if his skin was as downy as it looked. He wanted to trace his lips, to see if they were as cushiony and soft as they appeared. He was that close he could feel the warm rush of air on his palm as Justin exhaled and the heat emanating from his flushed cheek. But he resisted the overwhelming urge, not wanting to disturb the sleeping boy, and pulled back. His hand was shaking.

“God, I love you, Justin,” he whispered impulsively.

He froze. Was that him? Did those words just spill out of HIS mouth?

Er... Well. That just came out of nowhere. What the hell was THAT, Rich?

He released a long, shuddering breath, fighting back unwanted stinging tears. Richard had never admitted the true secret depths of his feelings for Justin, not even to himself. Shit, he knew he had a big ol’ woody for the guy but love? Exactly when had wanting to shag him turned into love?

And exactly when had he, Mr. Fuck-em-and-leave-em, grown a heart?

He would have pondered this strange, jarring outburst more if Justin hadn’t moaned and ensnared his attention again.

How ironic. Here he was, blurting out a declaration of unheralded, deep emotion and Justin was dreaming of screwing someone else. He raised his eyes heavenward.

Oh, you had to do this to me now, didn’t you? Thank you. Your sense of timing is impeccable. No, really. Thank you. Sadistic fucker. I hate you!

Richard didn’t know who he was talking to, God, Buddha, The Jolly Green Giant. Whoever was out there, the higher being, destiny, fate, whatever, it was determined to have a rib-tickling laugh at Richard’s expense.

He sighed. Well, at least he could have a good wank and get some gratification for the night, no matter how fleeting and one-sided.

Not quite as enthusiastically as before, he resumed whacking off. He even gave up hope of Justin touching himself and tried to concentrate on building up an orgasm. Because, damn. Justin was still hot. Even if he was doing unspeakable acts of lewdness in his mind with some disgusting, faceless skank who didn’t deserve one millisecond of Justin’s time and attention.

So, he was suitably astounded when Justin unexpectedly wrapped his long fingers around his dick and started stroking it. Richard mouthed an inaudible exclamation of both astonishment and satisfaction.

About time, man. What took you so long? Fuck yeah. That’s it. Work it, baby.

His interest peaked up to the level it was earlier and Richard eagerly jacked himself while watching Justin do the same. The sight of Justin’s smooth cock slipping through his hand was extraordinarily raunchy and like something out of Richard’s wildest late-night imaginings.

“Mmm. Ohh, yeah,” Justin groaned, moving his wrist faster. Richard quickened his strokes too. He loved hearing Justin’s voice like this, raw, needy, husky.

Good boy, Justin. Make yourself come, honey. Come for me.

“Oh please. Yes…” Justin begged to the unknown phantom lover. “Do it.”

Beads of perspiration were springing out on Justin’s brow and chest. His closed fist was rapidly gaining speed and his face was screwing up in an expression of rising sexual ardour. He pulled his knees up so his feet were spread flat on the mattress and arched his back. His other hand went to his nipple, pinching and twisting the taut bud while he bit at his bottom lip with his sharp white teeth.

Shit! He’s awake. Justin’s awake. He has to be. Oh shit. Shit!!

Richard was frighteningly alarmed. From the precise action of the other boy’s wrist and the way he was deliberately hurting his nipple, Richard deduced with a jolt that it was impossible for Justin to be fast asleep at that moment. Impossible. There was nothing dream-like about his movements whatsoever. He was sleeping earlier, Richard knew that for a fact, but somewhere along the line, the dream must have ended and Justin carried it over into a waking fantasy.

Crap! What should I do? What should I do? Should I make a run for the window or should I stay here and hope Justin doesn’t notice me? Quick man, make a decision.

“Oh God,” Justin moaned gutturally, tilting his head back onto the pillow, his eyes shut tight. He clamped his nipple hard between his fingernails.

“Oh God…Fuck me, Richard…”

Richard gasped loudly. Too late, he clapped his hand over his mouth.

His eyelids flying open, Justin whipped his head around and caught Richard kneeling on the floor, right next to the bed, clasping his cock. Nobody moved. Nobody even blinked. They both stared at each other in stunned speechlessness.

He said my name. He said my name! Justin actually said MY name! Pinch me. Somebody pinch me.

Justin joined in with the voiceless self-babbling.

GAH! Richard’s here! What is he doing here? He saw… He heard… EVERYTHING.
Oh please, let me die now. This is not happening.

And Richard:

I knew it! Justin was thinking about me. He wants me! Woohoo!

Justin:

Die. Now. Please.

There was more rapid-fire internal dialogue on both sides but neither Richard nor Justin said anything out loud. They were just struck dumb, frozen with their dicks in their hands and their eyes as round as hubcaps.

Eventually, Richard whispered, “Don’t stop.”

Justin didn’t twitch a muscle. His face was even paler than usual. He was beginning to look traumatised. Richard knew he had to do something, to get Justin back into the groove or he’d never recover from the shock. He was still pretty damn shocked himself by what Justin had said. Shocked but in an awed, thrilled, ecstatic kind of way. He got up, let his shorts fall to the floor and knelt on the bed beside Justin. His hand connected with Justin’s knee. The long-haired boy jumped like he’d been burnt.

“Don’t stop, baby,” Richard encouraged, caressing Justin’s thigh. “I wanna watch you. I wanna see you come. Please.”

Justin gulped, unable to believe that Richard was really here. It was like he materialised right out of his dream into real, solid, touchy-feely life. Richard’s eyes were dark midnight blue as he looked searchingly into Justin’s wide gaze. He placed his hand upon Justin’s and guided the second male to recommence stimulating himself.

“You okay with this, Justin?” he asked gently. After a pause, Justin nodded, the colour creeping back into his cheeks. When Richard removed his fingers, Justin kept up the motion, slowly pulling his own penis again.

“I want you to watch me, too, okay?” Richard’s fingers curled around his still-rigid dick. Justin nodded again. There was so much they needed to say but they could talk all they liked later. Right now, they had to let their demanding hot summer hormones take over. Both were highly aroused and excited and bordering on climax.

One kneeling and one lying on his back, the two young men tugged on their cocks with increasing exertion, sweat sheening on their bodies, and made low, deep, gruff sounds of pleasure, never taking their eyes off each other.

Jesus H. Christ. Look at him, Richard thought reverently. He’s so fuckin’ pretty like this. And he’s looking at ME. He’s not looking away.

Justin was panting, his arm working briskly, his eyes fixed on Richard’s almost pain- filled face. Richard was sitting there, sucking in quick lungfuls of oxygen, his thighs splayed apart and his hand furiously pumping away on his prick. Justin’s sheets were getting drenched with the perspiration dripping off them both.

Fuck. C’mon, Justin. Come. Please come. Oh fuck. I can’t hold on much longer.

Finally, Justin’s body was wracked with convulsions and he made gasping, whimpering noises, white ejaculatory fluid spurting out of his cock into the air and falling back down onto his stomach and hand like drops of mercury. Richard gritted out his appreciation and allowed himself to give in to his own bursting, blazing orgasm. He aimed his dick at the other boy, gave the spire of flesh a few more tugs and came as Justin watched. The glutinous substance gushed out in four cascades, one after the other, and landed on Justin’s belly, combining with the semen and sweat already there. Justin’s cum was indistinguishable from his own.

On the outside, Richard and Justin looked totally different but on the inside they were one and the same.

Richard closed his eyes for a moment in blissful relief, attempting to catch his breath. Then he picked his shirt up from the carpet and used it to wipe Justin’s stomach and hand clean. Knowing how particular Richard was about his clothes, Justin gave him a peculiar look. Richard shrugged, saying, “Meh. It was already wet.”

He gazed at Justin, whose forehead and upper lip were still dewy with perspiration.

“We really need to talk, dude,” he said. Justin nodded in agreement.

But where to start? Seeing as Justin wasn’t exactly Mr. Conversational tonight, Richard decided to go first.

“So, when were you gonna tell me, Justin?” he asked. “You know, that you think about me like that?” Justin immediately blushed and even in the darkness of his bedroom, Richard could see the bright red hue.

“I’m not trying to embarrass you, man,” he hurriedly explained. “I just- I just want to know.”

Justin squirmed and muttered, “Never. I was never gonna tell you.”

“Bit late for that,” Richard commented with an arched brow. Justin sat up, pulled the sheet over his nakedness and stared at Richard, his ire piqued.

“Well, what about you? What are you doing here, in MY room in the middle of the night, spying on me and letting me humiliate myself in front of you? You’re supposed to be my friend. How could you do that to me?”

“I’m sorry,” Richard automatically apologised. Then he frowned. “No, actually, I’m not sorry. If I hadn’t done this, I never would have found out. In case you hadn’t noticed, Justin, I was whacking off over you too.”

Justin’s anger dissolved. He chewed his lip and lowered his lashes. “I noticed.”

Unable to help himself, Richard grinned. “Damn. That musta been some dream, huh?”

Justin didn’t answer. He still appeared more than slightly mortified. Richard reached out and took his hand, weaving his fingers through Justin’s.

“Don’t be ashamed,” he said softly, reassuringly. “I feel the same way about you.”

Not taking his hand away, Justin lifted his gaze and met Richard’s eyes tentatively.
“You do?”

“You better believe it, honey. Why do ya think I’m here?”

Richard was completely serious. Not a smidgen of humour or scorn lay in the lines of his handsome face. Justin said hesitantly, “I don’t know if I was dreaming earlier or what, but I thought… No. It’s stupid, it was most likely just me.”

“What?” Richard pushed. “What is it?”

“Well, I’m probably prodigiously wrong and about to make a total fool of myself…Not that it matters now,” Justin mumbled. “But I thought I heard…I thought you said…that you…um…” He trailed off helplessly.

“That I love you?” Richard finished. Justin’s eyes widened appealingly. “You weren’t dreaming, Justin. I did say that. Kinda unintentionally, though. But, yeah, I said it. And I don’t take it back.”

Richard cupped Justin’s chin and tipped his face up, bringing his mouth down over the other boy’s. He kissed Justin tenderly and gently, as if he was sacred and precious and could be easily damaged beyond repair, like one of his delicate greenhouse orchids. All of which was true. Justin made a tiny little moan at the back of his throat. Richard released his mouth but he still cradled Justin’s face. He affectionately eased an unfettered lock of Justin’s light brown hair behind his ear and smiled.

“Well, I was right.”

Justin frowned. “Right about what?”

“Your lips ARE like pillows.”

“Oh.” Justin’s cheeks reddened a bit and he glanced away. Richard chuckled at him.

“Charming, you are.” He coiled his lanky form down on the bed next to Justin and pulled his friend close. Richard couldn’t call him his lover, ‘cos they hadn’t actually made love. Yet. It wasn’t gonna happen that night, because they were both exhausted, but soon. Soon, it would. Right now, this was enough.

“Richard?” Justin’s voice was quiet, his head on Richard’s chest, listening to his heart beat steadily.

“Yeah?”

“I, um, I…” Justin cleared his throat and tried again. “I…I just wanted to say that I, um, also… love you.”

Richard wrinkled his brow, taking offence to Justin’s unnecessary and patronising statement. “Don’t fuckin’ say that, man,” he chided resentfully. “Don’t. You don’t have to say it just ‘cos I did. I don’t want you to do that. I don’t want you to fuckin’ lie to me! All right?”

“I’m not,” Justin told him firmly, lifting his head. “I mean it, Richard. I love you.”

Richard scrutinized Justin's face and saw the truth shining there in his cerulean eyes.

He loves me. Justin actually LOVES me.

Richard grinned, suddenly supremely happy, and quipped, “I thought you just wanted to fuck me.”

For the first time, Justin smiled, if a little bashfully. “Well, yeah. That too.”
Then he laid his head back down on Richard’s chest, snuggling into him contentedly.

The oppressive heat of the night seemed to have died off and it was cool enough to be entwined in an embrace without melting into a gooey puddle of human flesh. Richard hugged Justin to his body and kissed his temple. Man, how many times had he dreamed of being able to do this? Just to have Justin in his arms, to touch him, to smell his salty male scent, to hear him breathing and feel the throb of his pulse under his skin. Justin, alive and warm and soft.

And his.

To think, if it had been a cold, rainy night, he never would have had insomnia, never would have come over here, and never ever known that Justin loved him. Could he BE any happier?

There was one more thing he had to do before he could relax and go to sleep. He had an apology to make.

Excuse me, God? It’s me, Richard. Ummm. Sorry. PS. Please don’t kill me!

END