Tag: gay captions

by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

vallentiro14:

“What do you think? Too much?”
“No, you look fantastic in pink. I’m so glad to see an increasing amount of color in your wardrobe.”
Justin pulled the tank top down and smiled. “Thank you Daddy. I’ve wanted to buy more colors since I was a kid. I felt like I was getting away with something when I bought this tank.”
“What do you think is going to happen?”
Justin messed with the hem. “I’m worried my dad will catch me, I think.”
Manuel lifted Justin’s chin with his pointer finger and kissed him. “Even if he did, so what? You’re an adult. You can wear what you want.”
Justin blinked. “I mean you’re right, but he’s so mean. He’s so intimidating.”
Manuel caressed the line of Justin’s jaw with the back of his fingers. “I’ll keep you protected from him, sweetheart. You are mine, love, not his. Who has the lock on your cock?”
“You,” Justin whispered.
“That’s right.”
“Been wanting a chastity cage for a long while too. Teenage me would be so jealous of me now.”
Manuel smiled. “Imagine what teenage Justin will think of you ten years from now.”
“He won’t even recognize me.”
“Damn straight. So, what pants are you going to wear with that tank top?”
Justin glanced down. “I kinda of feel fully dressed.”
Manuel grinned. “As much as I agree with you, I don’t think the Broken Yolk is going to agree with you. Nor all their patrons.”
“Hmm. Ya know, for all the talk about color, I think black pants is the way to go.”
“Black pants,” Manny purred. He ran his hands down Justin’s flanks. “Can I pick out your black pants?”
“Oh? Why do you want to do that?”
“So I can find the tightest ones.”
“You like me restrained don’t you?” Justin asked.
Manny kissed him. “Yes. I think when we get back from brunch I need to tie you up and leave a vibrator in you for a while.”
Justin’s eyebrows shot up. “You said that very casually.”
“It’s an average Saturday for me.” Manny grinned. “So I suggest you eat a lot at brunch. Actually. Maybe I should put a vibrator in you before brunch…”
Justin’s eyes went wider. “You wouldn’t! That would be such torment.”
Manny walked out of the bathroom and into their bedroom closet to dig around in the toybox. He came out holding a small cylindrical object. “What could be better than having an egg for brunch?”
Justin felt his cock strain against the metal sleeve in his pants. “I have a feeling I don’t have a much on this choice.”
“Nope!” Manuel chirped. “It’ll be on the lowest, intermittent setting though. You’ll barely feel it. But you will feel it.”
Justin whimpered. It was a curse to be with a man who turned him so much. Teenage Justin had no idea what adventures he was going to get himself into one day. He had a feeling even if he went back in time to warn himself, he’d still be standing in this exact spot regardless.

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Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

nips-and-butts:

Jeff wiped his hands on a rag. “Well, I can get it running, but if you want to give it to your dad for his 50th birthday, you’re gonna need to replace a few of the lines for longevity, plus mitigate the rust on the undercarriage, and do the interior work on it as well. Won’t be cheap. You have a budget for this?”
“I have money saved up, and my uncle’s family is going to chip in since it was their dad’s car. Plus you know.” Brazos pushed down his pants. “This as much as you wanted.”
“What are you – woah! Dammit boy, careful with that, you could get in some trouble out here.”
Brazos sighed. “I know, but it’s frustrating.”
“How did you know I’m into that anyway?” Jeff whispered.
“Rumors,” he said with a smile.
“Have you been talking to Ted again?”
“We didn’t talk much, our mouths were busy.”
“Good god.” Jeff sighed. “It’s the gay cabal of Nebraska. Show me your underwear again.”
Brazos pushed his pants down again.
“You get some silk thongs and I’ll do it. I can’t handle you wearing underwear belonging to a teenage girl.”
Brazos buttoned his pants. “They’re um. My sister’s.”
Jeff sighed. “Good lord. Looks like I have two projects this summer.”
“Two?”
“Yeah. Fix your dad’s truck, and turn you into a proper twink before you go back to college.”
“I’m not a twink,” Brazos insisted. “I’m a good ol’ country boy.”
Jeff laughed. “Bless your heart. I think I’m going to like these projects.”

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Captions are fictional.

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“Christ in heaven, is it morning already?”
“Yes it is.” Frank said. He was standing at the foot of the bed.
“It can’t be morning already,” Donovan protested. “We weren’t up that late were we?”
“We went to bed at like 2 am,” Frank answered.
He stretched and let out a groan as his neck cracked. “Ah, theeeere it is.”
Donovan made of complaint into the pillow. “We should have just had a quickie.”
“Well, that was the plan. A little hand to hand action,
if I recall correctly. I’m not bothered being a little bit tired, we ended up having a lot of fun.”
“It was fun,” Donovan admitted. He curled up into a loose ball. “Your bed is illegally comfortable.”
Frank’s eyes roamed over Donovan’s body. “And you look illegally good in it. You have such a solid body, and such a big ass. I’m starting to see why I got so carried away, last night – you really excite me.”
Donovan lifted his arm and looked at Frank. “Well, that’s flattering. Are you trying to apologize for the insufficient sleep I got?”
“Maybe. Is it working?”
“…Yes,” Donovan grunted. He put his arm back down.
Frank snickered. “Come on big boy, get up. If not you’ll sleep till noon.”
“I think you need to come back into this bed and snuggle with me.”
“As much I want to be pressed against you, when I’m up, I’m up. And hungry,” Frank said.
Donovan rolled over on his back and let his knees fall to the side. “Does this change your mind?”
Frank stared. “I think I know how to wake you up.”
“Oh? How?”
Frank crawled back onto the bed and ran his tongue up the shaft of Donovan’s penis.
Donovan made a low purring noise in the back of his throat.
“If I give you a blowjob, will get you up after?” Frank asked.
“Fuck. Fine. But I reserve the right to take an afternoon nap later without you nagging me about being lazy.”
“Deal.”
Frank lowered his head and got to work, but he was smiling the whole time. It felt like it was supposed to be a compromise, but Frank knew he was coming out the winner in this.
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Captions are fictional.

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Nash opened his eyes and blinked slowly. A ceiling. It was blurry. Someone moved into his vision, someone wearing a face mask and glasses.
“Nash, squeeze my hand if you can hear me?”
Nash wondered if the woman was talking to him. The woman used his name, but he felt completely detached from reality. Like he was there, but not in a body. He was unaware where any of his limbs where, so he told his brain to squeeze a hand. To his surprise, he felt some pressure in his right hand. It exhausted him. The lights were bright and thinking was hard. The beeping was annoying. There were other people…figures…somewhere.
“Very good Nash,” the woman with the facemask and glasses said. “Can you say something for us?”
Nash made a vocalization in his throat. His whole mouth was parched; there was a bitter, stale taste and his tongue felt like cotton. “Water,” he mouthed. Out of the left side of his vision, a straw came into view and was pressed to his lips. He latched on with a baby’s instinct and drank. It felt like he was drinking silver, cold and bright, down into his stomach. Nate closed his eyes. Everything was so bright. He was also becoming aware of a dull pain in what he was pretty sure was his leg.

He worked his mouth a few times, and felt like the Tinman from Wizard of Oz working himself after a good oil. “Where am I?” Nash slurred.
“You’re in St. Mary’s Hospital. You were hit by a drunk driver last night, coming home from a New Years Eve party. We’ve kept you in a coma overnight, but we’ve woken you up now that your brain scans are better.”
Nash wondered if the woman in the facemask and glasses was talking to him or someone else. He wasn’t in a car accident last night – he didn’t remember being in a car accident last night.
“My leg hurts,” Nash said. He wasn’t sure why those words came out of his mouth, but perhaps it was to remind this doctor person that he was a different patient and give him the real story.
“We can give you some more morphine. You broke your femur, Nash. You had surgery on it, but it will still hurt although it’s put back together.”
“Are you…talking to me?” Nash managed, although it came out in one word.
“Yes,” the doctor said with a chuckle. Her eyes crinkled at the corners.
“My leg hurts,” Nash repeated. It was becoming uncomfortable now.
“The nurse is coming to give you more pain relief, don’t worry. Anything else hurt?”
“My head. It’s so bright.” He raised a hand to rub his chest absentmindedly.
“You hit your head on the windshield, so you have a bruise there. Does your chest hurt?”
“Burns a little,” Nash answered.
“From the seatbelt, or the airbag.”
“Oh.” He felt himself drifting off. “I’m tired.”
“You can rest. Your family is on their way here.”
“Sounds serious.”
The doctor chuckled again. “It is.”
“What about the man?” Nash squinted up at the doctor.

The doctor’s forehead crinkled like a bulldog’s. “What man?”
“The man – the man, who was with me.”
“You mean one of the medics who rode with you to the hospital? There weren’t any passengers in your car, as far as I’m aware.”
“No,” Nash insisted. He still didn’t remember the crash, but in this memory he was in a car. Or at least he was pretty sure it was a car, but it didn’t quite look like one – the angles were wrong and stuff was in the wrong place.
The edges of the memory was dark and grainy. He exhaled and winced. His chest hurt. Nate rubbed it again and left his hand there. “The man- he was talking to me. In the car. He was all white.”
“I can see if one of the medics was a white man,” the doctor suggested.
“No,” Nash insisted. This was so frustrating and he was so tired. “He was all white. Like a lightbulb. He kept telling me to stay still and everything was going to be ok. I was going to be ok.”
“Your medic was probably wearing a headlamp, or it may have been the ambulance overhead lights backlighting the paramedic.”
Nash whined in irritation. This was maddening. “No. He was glowing, like a lightbulb. He said…he apologized, that it had to be this way so I could meet my soul mate.”
The doctor was out of Nash’s view, typing something on a computer. “Soul mate?”
“Yeah. Said there was a man. We’d been together many times before, but the story line was wrong this time so they had to fix it.”
The doctor stopped typing. “I’m sure the medics in the ambulance gave you a drug like ketamine, and that can be a trippy experience, Nash. Your brain had a hard bang against your skull too. You will likely not remember anything of the crash, and your brain will try to fill in the gaps, sometimes incorrectly. The nurse is going to give you more pain killers. Try to rest ok? We’ll wake you again when your family arrives.”

Nash sighed and closed his eyes again. He was too worn out to be frustrated. He’d try to think of a way to make the doctor understand that she was wrong, completely wrong.

The background beeps and foot shuffles and chatter melted into white noise. Something cold began to circulate through the tube in his arm, up his arm, into his body. The pain in his leg faded and it was sublime. Nick exhaled again, in relief this time. The memory was solidifying a bit.
The white man was sitting on the crumpled hood of the car, talking to Nash. A classic American boy with a nice smile and tousled brown hair. So bright…yet it didn’t hurt to look at him, Nash realized. He felt peaceful looking at him. Nash was sure the medics would have seen him too and spoken to him. They’d clear this all up. Ah, peace.

Nash fell asleep.

When he was woken up later to meet his family, Nash was more coherent. One of the medics who had been with him had brought another patient in the hospital in the meanwhile, and was questioned. The medic hadn’t seen what Nash described. A traumatic hallucination, they called it.

That night in the hospital, Nash had dreams. Dreams of being in different places, wearing different clothes, talking in the different languages. Like flicking through the TV, just lingering on channel long enough to decide you don’t like it and click! new channel. But Nash wanted to stay on the channels. There was another man with him in each of the “channels”, one he hadn’t seen before but who looked familiar. So familiar. Not the lightbulb man. Different man. The man in his dreams had a beard.
Nash thought if he could just stay on a damn channel long enough, he’d identify him. Get a name. Clear it up. But he never could. The dreams stopped after Nash was discharged home two days later.

Four years later, Nash met a bearded man with the same face as the man in his hospitals dreams. He said Nate looked familiar too, and asked if he wanted to get a coffee. Nate agreed as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

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Captions are fictional.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

awalkonthelightside:

Sometimes you don’t know whether you are going up or down.  

“Well, that was a lovely night out, but I am exhausted. I was going to take a bath, but I think I’ll fall asleep in there.” Aiden dropped his slacks and draped them over a chair.
“I’m worn out too. I can’t believe we’ve never eaten at that restaurant before.”
“Ne neither. That chocolate cake was incredible. The presentation of it alone!”
Finn hung his suit jacket in the closet and unbuttoned his shirt. It went into the laundry. “It did taste good, but I wasn’t looking at the food, as much I was looking at you. As was everyone else.”
Aiden gave Finn a demure look. “Were they?”
“They were. You looked stunning in that lace top and black slacks, and the scarf made it so classy. They all were jealous of you.” Finn put his slacks on the hanger and pulled on some sweatpants.
Aiden’s cheeks turned pink. “I was busy looking at you.”
“Me?”
“You. I wanted to kiss every cake crumb off your lip.” 
Finn walked up to Aiden and put his hands on his waist. “I wanted to take my foot out of my shoe and run it up your leg the whole time. It was hard to behave myself.”
“Maybe that’s why we don’t go out too much? All we end up wanting is to come back to the bedroom, it seems.”
Finn chuffs air out of his nose. “I think that’s more true than I want to think.” He dipped his hand and cupped Aiden. “Oh the lace is a little wet. Were you straining in your chastity device during dinner, princess?”
Aiden exhaled. “Very much,” he admitted. “It’s been tight all day. I almost didn’t wear the lace underwear because my balls are so full they almost spill out.”
“Is that why you didn’t wear the leather pants?”
“Yes, cause it would have been obvious.” 
“If you had done that, I would not behaved at all during dinner. I don’t think we would have made it out of the car” Finn pushed his hand between skin and lace and palmed Aiden’s testicles in his hand. “You are properly full and searing hot.”
Aiden whimpered and grasped onto Finn’s arms as Finn gently pulled and caressed.
“Look at that,” Finn murmured. “Leaking more. God you smell good.” Finn kissed Aiden and Aiden melted back. 
“I need you,” Aiden whispered.
Finn withdrew his hand to soft complaints. He licked his fingers. “Get undressed, love. I believe there’s some charge left on the vibrator still. I don’t want you to orgasm, but I can relieve a lot of that pressure.”
“I really really want to cum,” Aiden whispered.
Finn pressed a soft kiss to Aiden’s cherubic lips. “I have faith you will have your first hands-free orgasm in your device soon. Let’s save it until then.”
“I won’t last,” Aiden said.
“You have so far, and done it with grace. Once we relieve some of this pressure, it’ll be more tolerable.” Finn sat on the bed. “Finish undressing princess, I don’t want to tear your lace in bed. I know it was expensive.”
Aiden groaned. “You drive me insane.”
Finn chuckled. “You love it though don’t you? You’ve never yet asked me to unlock you once.” 
Aiden blushed. He shyly turned away from Finn instead without answering and slowly stripped off his lingerie.

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Captions are fictional. The person I reblogged this from is the original poster and he has some really beautiful portraits on his Tumblr, I recommend following. 

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silverskinsrepository:

Nick Bosa

“Can I help you, boy?” Toby asked. The young man had been standing in front of him, nervous and fidgeting.
“Um. Sorry, sir, just wondering like, if I could…like, you know.”
“No I don’t know, tell me what you want, boy.”
Nick wrung his hands together. “Just wondering if I could um.” He dropped the tone of his voice to barely audible. “Suck your um. You know, Sir.”
Toby smirked. “Is what you want?”
Nick nodded. His face was tomato red.
“Well lookie what we have here,” Toby said to the locker room. “We gotta cocksucker in our midst, don’t we guys?”
Nick’s eyes went wide. He looked panicked. The other guys in the locker room snickered.
Another man interjected, “Oh come on, boy, don’t waist your spit on him, I got like three extra inches than he does!”
Toby shot him a look. “He couldn’t deep throat a pickle, never mind your cock, give it a rest. Save your load for that twink that always comes in at 8.”
“I – I should- I should go-” Nick stammered and glanced at the door.
“No.”
Nick froze. “You want to suck my cock, you ask for it properly. Acknowledging male superiority and wanting to submit to it is nothing to feel ashamed about. That’s the first step on the road to getting the real good kind of sex.”
“Better than fucking pocket pussy, I know you got one of those!” Another man said, making some of the other guys laugh. Even Toby snickered.
Nick was mortified. “Oh my god,” he groaned.
Toby made a repeated downward motion with his head. “Alright, let’s go easy on him guys, he’s gonna pass out. What’s your name, boy?”
“Nick,” he whispered.
“Focus on me.” Toby pointed to himself.
Nick nodded.
“Ask me politely what you want.”
“May I um, suck you off Sir?” he whispered.
“Louder.” Toby rubbed the inside of his crotch. “Be confident you want this.”
Nick swallowed. “May I suck you off Sir.”
“Say cock. I haven’t heard you say it yet.”
Nick wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “May I… May I please suck your cock off?” He paused. “Sir.”
Toby smiled. “Better. Much better. Yes, yes you may. You are going to start with my balls first, and I don’t want you to try to put all my shaft all down your throat. I do not like teeth. You understand?”
Nick nodded. “Yeah, I understand.”
“Yes Sir. Not Yeah.”
“Yes Sir,” Nick repeated in a hurry.
“Good. Alright, come here,” Toby pointed to the spot on the floor between his knees. He pushed his waistband down and out with his hand so he could put his other hand in and pull his cock out. You could see his hair sticking out.
“Oh my god,” Nick breathed. He felt to his knees easily, and it sort of felt like he half fainted. He put his hand on Toby’s massive thigh and his own cock throbbed with terrible need.
Right in front of Nick’s eyes Toby extracted himself, shaft, balls, all of it. On view. For him. Suddenly they were the only two in the locker room…just Nick, Toby, and Toby’s incredible cock. He was not going to squander this. It took Nick a minute to remember what he was supposed to be doing, he was distracted by the sound of his heart pounding. Oh yeah, balls. Balls first. God, they were huge! Seemed his tongue was also going to get a work out at this gym.

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Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

indirectly:

Angel lifted his butt and watched it drop back into his place. It was not firm and muscular, but squishy and round. His abs were hidden under a soft paunch, and his legs would not be defined as toned. His cock was perhaps, something the ancient Greeks would find attractive, but also hidden in foreskin and a bit too much hair.

Angel remembered standing in the front of the mirror as a teenager, cringing, pointing out everything that was wrong. He made, and remade lists, of everything that needed to be fixed or improved. Starving himself hadn’t shortened the list. Exercising until he passed out hadn’t either. And putting out for any man who even looked his way hadn’t made him stop standing in front of the mirror and frowning. So he just covered up and rarely ventured out and kept to himself.

An yet.

This morning, the words of the man at the bar last night rung in his head clear as if they were recorded. The man had gently touched Angel’s arm as Angel passed him perched on a bar stool. “Sweetheart,” he said, in that classic gay lisp of an old New Yorker, “I have to say, I’ve seen you around here all night, and if I wasn’t very taken, I would put you in chastity and keep you as my pet.”

Angel turned around and beamed at his reflection in the mirror. For the first time, the list was blank.

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Captions are fictional.

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Adam was putting the roast into smaller containers to freeze it when Jeremy came back in the house.
“How’s it going out there?”
Jeremy stomped his boots on the mat on the inside of the glass sliding door. “Fabulous. The 15 year old has taken control of the lighter fluid and I think all of them are sticky.”
Adam laughed. The kids had cabin fever, so he brushed the snow off the firepit and told them to cook their own hotdogs and s’mores for dinner. “The porch isn’t on fire isn’t it?”
“Not yet, but give it an hour.”
“Such faith in our children. Are you escaping the insanity for a second?”
“I have to pee,” Jeremy replied. He put his beanie and scarf over the kitchen chair, struggled out of his boots, and walked to the bathroom.
“Have fun,” Adam called out after him. He was putting things in the freezer when Jeremy called out to him from the bathroom.
“Hey gorgeous.”
Adam turned his head. He made a noise and covered his mouth. Jeremy had propped himself up against the wall next to the bathroom with his hand; he was wearing only his long-johns from the waist down and had a rather smoldering look on his face.
“Oh my god Jeremy,” Adam squeaked. “That’s…that’s a hell of a silhouette.”
Jeremy’s cocky smile split into a grin. “The kids are occupied outside. Wanna sneak off for a quickie?”
Adam flushed a pretty shade of pink. He could not tear his gaze away from that large shadow in Jeremy’s pants, and god it had been a while. Too long of a while. Adam cleared his throat and forced himself to look up. Jeremy had that same mischievous sparkle to his eyes he had as a college student, and Adam’s heart began to race. He walked briskly up to Jeremy, grabbed a fist of his sweater, and dragged him down the hall. “We gotta be quick before one of the five notices we’re gone.”
“Or they burn down the porch.”
“The porch can burn, I’m not getting interrupted from this.”
Jeremy gasped softly under his breath. “Woah, that was spicy. I didn’t know you had spicy in you.”
Adam smirked at him and shut the bedroom door behind him.

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Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

hotdogsfordinner:

Every day is laundry day

“Goddammit, why is it beeping at me? How on Earth does my houseboy know how to use this machine? He went home to visit his family two days ago, how am I gonna survive three weeks without him?” Lin poked the dryer for a bit longer, than gave up and went to text his houseboy. The houseboy demanded a photo of Lin’s abs for payment for working off the clock.
“Why not a photo of my cock?” Lin asked.
“Cause that’s something I enjoy most when I simply feel it more than look at it.” His houseboy responded.
Lin gave an aggravated sigh. Why was he gone a month?? He was actually going to have find other people to fuck. On his own. The audacity. Ugh, maybe he could con someone into doing his laundry for sex… Lin blinked. “Oh my god I’m so spoiled and pitiful.”

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Captions are fictional.

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Victor rubbed his arms and shivered under his wool coat. It had been so warm in the house that he couldn’t bear the thought of putting on his wool undershirt under his knit sweater, and he was regretting it now. He pulled out his pocket watch with numb fingers and checked it. Four past the hour. He didn’t know what to make of the situation? Was he late? Was he early? He could only wait.

The snow was fine as powdered sugar, and it felt as if God had removed the sound. A flash of movement on Victor’s right side made him turn his head, and he was rewarded as an owl swooped over the pathway and into the trees on the other side. His gasp was the loudest sound. Victor put a hand over his heart. He looked for the owl, but it had disappeared like a ghost. Victor was pondering how soft and warm an owl must be to survive an English winter, when he heard the footsteps.

Victor turned around and sighted the figure. The red color of the cape identified the man and Victor exhaled in relief. He waited for Paul to approach.

As they got closer, Victor waved. Paul waved back. They stopped a few feet apart.
“You came,” Paul said with a tone of amazement. “I didn’t think you would on a night like this.”
“You slipped me a note at great risk to yourself. I found it very exciting, so of course I came.”
“No one questioned you leaving your house?”
“Only my father was still awake, and I said it was stuffy and I wanted to clear my head.”
Paul shook his head and snow fell off his hat. “You should be an actor.”
“I feel as if I’m acting every day.” Victor’s gaze lowered to the floor.
Paul lifted his chin with a gloved finger. “I dislike it too, but we must survive, Victor.”
Victor grasped his hand and pressed the palm to his cheek. He sighed as he nuzzled it.
“It makes me sad to hear you sigh at Christmas, but hopefully this will cheer you up,” Paul said. With his other hand, he produced a brown parcel from under his coat.
“A book?” Victor asked. He let Paul have his hand back.
“Yes. A special book.”
Victor took it with both hands.
“Where are your gloves?”
“Forgot to grab them,” Victor muttered.
“Silly boy.”
“Should I wait to Christmas morning or …?”
Paul shook his head. “No, open it now. It will need to stay a secret, like us.”
Victor gently undid the twine and peeled back the layers of brown paper. It showed a blank cover, so he turned the book over. He gasped for a second time on this adventure. “A Picture of Dorian Grey! Oh Paul, how did you get a copy of this!”
“The publisher knows our store well, but I knew my father would send them back if I ordered directly. So I wrote to them in private and had them shipped to the library instead. I’m going to be selling them quietly, but I saved the best one for you.”
Victor gazed fondly at the book. “An Oscar Wilde novel of my own. Oh Paul it’s wonderful. Thank you so much.”
Paul was smiling. “I’m so happy you like it. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Paul.” Victor rose up to tip toes and pressed a soft kiss to Paul’s lips.” Paul couldn’t hide his surprise. Victor was suddenly, painfully aware of what he had done and blushed furiously. “I’m so sorry, pardon-”
Paul returned his affection. Victor grabbed onto his arm to steady himself as everything was spinning.
When they broke the kiss, their breath fogged the area between them.
“Oh my,” Victor blushed.
“I have to say, I quite like being a book seller.”
Victor giggled. “I quite like you being the local book seller.”
Paul smiled. “You are a light in my life.”
“As you are mine.”
Paul stole another kiss. “Please head home and warm your hands now. I worry about you, my little actor.”
“I shall be fine. I feel quite warm, actually.” Victor tucked the book inside his sweater. “I assure you I will get home safe.”
“I will watch you go then. Good night, Victor.”
“Good night Paul.” It was hard to turn and leave, but it had to be done. Victor glanced over his shoulder once, twice, until the red cape was just a shape in the snow.

Victor began the trip home, trying to remember how to walk normally. He wanted to sprint home and dive under the covers. He couldn’t wait to start the book, despite the late hour. However, Victor was sure that first he was going to spend some time in bed, undressed, thinking about that warm kiss and imagining the hand stroking him was Paul’s. Sometimes, being an actor worked out in his favor.

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Captions are fictional.