Rating: PG13 (or it will be...possibly R in later chapters)

Warning: SLASH!! ^.^

Archive: fanfiction.net, Forever Fandom, slashfanfiction.com, and Slasher-Style.

Summary: How much is too much for one boy to handle on his own? Shouldn't having to deal with his homosexuality and inability to crush on available guys be enough for Fate to deal on him? Welllllll...naaaaah.

Author's Note: Yes, I did go back and revise my chapter one. I realised, with the help of a certain reviewer, that I had been clear on absolutely NOTHING! Also, much to my dismay, I saw that many elements were disleading. I hope that I've solved some of those - though, please be kind and remember that there are some things I mean to leave unresolved - for further interest in the next chapters, etc. I did have a reason for some things - very few, but there were a couple. If anyone who read this before is still reading (and, though I hope you are, I would completely understand if you weren't!), I'm sure you'll notice some differences almost immediately. I've posted some notes on Griffin more towards the bottom of this chapter - merely so I won't ruin anything for anyone new to the story.

Secondly, thanks to the (two) reviewers! Honestly, the honesty did make me feel miserable and, for the longest time, frustrated! However, without the aforementioned honesty I would not be able to improve (and I hope I did!), so...thanks! I hope to continue to receive your reviews. They're helpful! Really! =P

If anyone's interested, I kept the original chapter one and pasted it to my website. If you want to read it, follow the link. Feel free to nod at things I've changed and send me emails grouching at me for changing certain things you liked better there. Sadly, the original chapter one got more boy-boy action than the revised edition, and the new chapter one got more than chapter two. ::shrugs:: But chapter three will hopefully begin to make up for the lack. ::grins:: Anyway, here's the link: Original Chapter One. Savvy?

Chapter One: Changes In Life

"Shane, there's something I've been needing to tell you..." a handsome male voice whispered.

Eyes widening, Shane looked towards the direction of the voice. He felt Jaq's presence vanishing and stared wistfully at the spot the boy had been. Who's there? he wondered.

Slowly, Shane opened his eyes and slammed his palm onto the alarm's off button. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the plain white ceiling, trying vainly to recall the fleeting dream. Shrugging, he sat and looked about his room. For a few moments, the blue walls and plain, old oak dresser seemed unfamiliar to him. Shaking his head at his own idiocy, the teenage boy stood, slipping his feet into his baby-blue house slippers.

The first day back to school always seemed to come so fast - and at such an early time. "Why couldn't we have gotten today off too?" he lamented as he shuffled into the bathroom.

Scowling at the cheery yellow wallpaper, Shane turned to the medicine cabinet above the sink. His reflection caught his eyes: hazy, slate grey eyes stared from under a mess of plain, light brown hair. What he hated the most, though, was his nose. It's not cute or aristocratic or anything even remotely attractive! he wailed mentally. Glaring at the reflection, Shane opened the door and took out his toothbrush and toothpaste.

He dressed in a hurry because he had agreed to be at school early. That way, he could make sure that he knew where all of his classes were located. Plus, it was an awesome excuse to catch up on everything that had happened during summer break. Normally, during the summer, he did not keep in contact with any of his school friends besides Griffin Morgan. She was his best friend - they had been close for the past seven years since she had moved from England. They had never been, and never would be more than friends mainly because, well ...

"Shane! Are you ready for breakfast?" his mother suddenly called, interrupting his thoughts.

Shane grinned at the thought of freshly cooked bacon, eggs, biscuits and gravy, and pancakes all topped with syrup... Quickly, the brown haired boy shrugged into his clothes and bounded down the hall. The table was set in the kitchen, for a lack of a real dining room.

The kitchen was trimmed in blue, and painted the same annoyingly cheery yellow as the bathroom. Despite how many times Shane protested the colours, his mother never changed them.

"Good morning, sweetie," she said, turning a beautiful smile on her son. At the merest twist of her lips, her entire face lit up. Shane had heard many people comment that she had the most sincere expressions they had ever seen on a person. Other than that, though, she was just as plain as Shane. Her hair was not glossy or extraordinary, she did not have a model's perfect features, she was ...

"Mom..." Shane said, tapping his fingertips against one another. "You remember that Griff's coming by to take me to school, riiiight?"

"Yes, you told me last night," she said absently as she filled a plate of food. "Will she want to eat as well?"

"Knowing the way her mom cooks, yeah," he snorted, ruffling his hair then grimacing. "Why do I always do that?"

"I think it's cute like that."

Giving her a flat stare, he plomped into his seat. "In case you don't remember, Mother, what your parents think is cute is not exactly what guys like."

Rolling her eyes, she set the plate in front of Shane. "Now, eat before I inflict bodily harm upon you."

"You can't threaten worth shit, Mom."

Eyes narrowing, Ms. Kyle gave her son a level stare. "What have I said about you cussing? The next time it happens, you'll get your mouth cleaned out with soap, wasn't it?"

"Slip of the tongue," Shane replied innocently, staring at her with what he hoped was an adoring gaze.

A car pulled into the driveway, the loud bass rocking the ground. Shane grinned. "Griffin." His mother placed a glass of orange juice on the table before him, then left to open the door for the girl.

Blanching at the drink, Shane pushed it away. Orange juice. She always gave him orange juice. He hated orange juice. Grabbing his fork, he began to dig into his food, taking big bites and almost instantly swallowing them.

"Bloody hell. Idiot, if you don't slow down, you'll kill yourself," an unimpressed female voice stated.

Tilting his head to the side and upwards, Shane poked his tongue at his friend. Her short hair was spiked and dyed pink and her eyes were very bright, very green, and very cattish.

Recoiling, Shane looked away. "Dammm-err- Griff, why do you wear those?! They freak me out!" he exclaimed, covering his eyes with his palms.

"I think they're cool," the girl replied.

"Ugh! Pink is one thing, but cat's eyes..."

"In your opinion," Griffin responded in a faux sweet voice.

"I can't wait to get to school," Shane announced after he had swallowed his last bite.

"Why? Just so you can listen to professors drone on and deal with those snotty, preppy girls who think they're everything?" Griffin snorted, tossing her head. "A lot of bloody fun."

"I can't wait to go to college," the brown haired boy continued with a sigh, resting his chin in his palms. "It'll be so much fun."

"College," Griffin mocked, "will be no different than this school."

"Maybe for you, but for me..."

"Well, I'm done," the spiky haired girl muttered, standing. "If you're coming, you'd better hurry."

"But what about my second serving?" Shane pouted. "One's not enough to keep me satisfied until lunch! Griffin!" Realising the girl was not planning on waiting for him, he threw a hasty goodbye over his shoulder to his mother and raced out the door, grabbing his backpack on the way.

Griffin's car was old, and its dull blue paint had chipped in several areas. She confided in Shane that her next goal was to get it repainted - although when that would happen she was not sure. She said the cost for repainting a car was really high, but he would not know because he did not have one. The fact was a constant reminded in Shane's life of how abnormal he was - everybody else his age had an automobile! Life was not fair! and neither, he often exclaimed, were his parents.

On the way to school, Shane and Griffin were both quiet - mainly because the music was so loud that hearing what the other said would be nearly impossible.

The school parking lot was packed with vehicles vibrating with loud music varying from hip hop to country. Grinning as he picked up a few of his favourite songs from the jumbled mess, Shane slung his pack over his shoulder and headed towards the school with Griffin.

Neither Shane or Griffin belonged to any of the massive student clich�s that overran nearly every school. They had a small, exclusive group of friends, one of whom was currently bounding towards them.

"Oh, hey!" Bernadette Wynn, a fiery haired girl, exclaimed as she latched herself to Griffin. "Baby, I missed you so much. Why didn't you call?"

Eyebrows drawn in surprise, Griffin answered dryly, "Perhaps it was because you told me you didn't want to hear my voice again? Ever?"

Flipping a strand of vibrant red hair, Bernadette laughed airily. "Oh, don't be silly. You knew I wasn't serious."

Griffin appeared as though she wanted to retort, but obviously knew that doing so would not accomplish anything - the other girl would continue to wave the comments away with a careless smile. Sighing, she strode towards the school, Shane and Bernadette on either side of her.

The school itself was extraordinarily small - or so Griffin claimed. Shane admitted that it was below the average in size - a thousand students certainly was not large - but he would not call it extraordinarily small. The building was made of dark burgundy bricks. His mother had told him that it had been built about twenty years prior due to the previous high school location being too small. The brown haired boy had expressed his wishes that the designers had thought ahead and constructed the buildings just a tad larger. An outside picnic area would have been nice as well.

Inside the building, the walls were painted a greyish blue; every now and then some of the paint had chipped off the walls to reveal a pasty white. However, it could be worse. It could be yellow.

A loud, girly giggle caught Shane's attention. Jennifer Jade, cheerleader captain, three time homecoming court attendant, senior class president - the bane of Shane's existence. Beside him, Griffin sniffed disdainfully. He heard the lull of her voice as she spoke to Bernadette - probably muttering something degrading about the cheerleader, but his mind was too focused on a new appearance that her exact words did not register in his mind.

"Hey, Jen," a handsome boy with dark brown hair exclaimed as approached the dark haired cheerleader. "You're looking as gorgeous as ever." Jaq Roland leaned towards the pretty blonde, his mouth brushing against hers teasingly.

Shane's lips twitched and his eyes glazed slightly as the scene changed in his mind. Jaq was kissing him. Athletic arms wrapped around him, crushing him to the other boy as their mouths met in a fury of passion.

"Earth to Shane!" Bernadette exclaimed, snapping her fingers before his face.

Face flushing, the brown haired boy blinked, his fantasy fading. "What?" he asked irritably, shifting his backpack on his shoulder.

Bernadette merely arched her eyebrows in amusement. Shane was thankful to the warning bell that rang, sending Bernadette shuttling towards her classroom.

Sighing, he shuffled towards his first class, an ominous feeling settling in his stomach. This school year, he decided, was not going to be any better than the last.

The first day of the school years were, for Shane, horrible experiences. While this one was not quite as bad - the reason for that being that he did not share classes with any extremely homophobic, discriminative students or teachers - it was not perfect. Somehow, he had managed to be placed in the Honours English class with all the preppy and/or incredibly intelligent kids, of which he was neither. However, all four of his teachers seemed pleasant enough and the classes appeared - if not fun - bearable.

After school, Shane met Griffin and Bernadette at the pink-haired girl's faded blue Corvette. "Hey you two," he said, flipping his right hand in a short wave. "How were - was your first day of school?"

As usual, Bernadette spoke immediately. "Absolutely charming. Of course, theatre class is always cool. But I have English with Mrs. Andrews - Ugggh! What a bitch! She already hates me! I don't know why! Ugh. She said I talked too much. If I talked half as much as half the teachers at school, I'd be hoarse. Ugh. Anyway, I also have - ehh... Algebra. And Keyboarding." Frowning, she pursed her lips. "I don't see why they require that we take that class. It's so boring and the teacher's so totally boring. I heard that all you do in there is sit and surf the internet. And Algebra's going to be so hard - I barely passed pre-Algebra!"

"Perhaps if you studied-"

"I do study, Griffin," the red-head snorted. "Unfortunately, I lack the intellect that some fortunate people were graced with. Like Mr. Alan-Trigonometry-Grey."

"Then get a tutor," Shane suggested as he threw his backpack into the back seat of the car. "Maybe Mr. Alan-Trigonometry-Grey would be willing to give you some tips. Granted, he might want a little something else, eh?" Impishly, he waggled his eyebrows at the girl, jumping in the car beside his pack before her flying hand could swat him.

"There's your dream tutor now," Griffin said suddenly, her mouth quirking into an amused smile. Her hand flung towards a tall, gangly boy with freckles and wild hair.

Bernadette grimaced. "Ugh. That is so disgusting. I can't believe you said that!" Nose wrinkling, she ducked into the front passenger seat and slammed the door. "Come on, Griff! In the car! Let's get some music going!"

Chuckling in amusement, Griffin took her honorary spot as driver - she never let anyone else so much as sit in the driver seat - and started the engine. The music blared, the bass vibrating through the air. Shane slumped against the seat, his eyes closing as the car left the school parking lot.

His rest, however, was short-lived. "Hey Shane!" A forceful hand shook his shoulder, pulling him from a dull sleep. "Do you want to stop by Sandy's Heaven and get some ice cream?"

"You payin'?" he asked groggily, rubbing his eyes. The music, he noticed, was considerably quieter.

Bernadette snorted. "You think I have the money? Griffin's the one with the job."

"Well, you should stop being lazy."

"You're one to talk."

"Both of you shut up," Griffin interjected. "Shane, do you want ice cream or would you rather me drop you off at your house?"

"Ice cream sounds good," Shane said. "Even if I do have to deal with Bernadette's endless, mindless chatter."

"Excuse me, but at least I talk about interesting things," Bernadette returned.

"Really? I suppose it's only when I'm not around, huh?"

"If you both don't shut up I'm throwing both of you out of my car and you can WALK home! Got it?" Griffin asked, her reflection in the rear-view mirror portraying her narrowed eyes.

He did not hate Bernadette; he would say that they mutually enjoyed quarreling with each other. Besides, that was better than outing their anger and frustration on their teachers or, worse yet, their parents.

Shrugging, Shane turned to stare at the passing scenery through his window. Noel was a small town where everybody knew everybody. Located in the heart of the south, it was well noted for its snowless winters and rainy seasons. Noel was not named for the holiday, but for the man who, some several hundred years prior, had lived on and "tamed" the land.

Every sit-down restaurant was family run; the nearest fast-food restaurant was almost thirty miles away - in the next city. In some respects, Noel was a very old-fashioned town: families usually sat down for home-made, traditional southern dinners, most people were involved in one of the churches, and almost all were very single-minded. For that last reason, Shane could not wait until he left for college - a bigger city generally meant more acceptance and, more importantly, a larger group of people who shared his inclinations.

The small town centre crept by the youth's window. All the buildings were old, but most were still in use. The Scarlet Theatre was almost archaic, yet very elegant with its blood-red, cushioned seats and arching doorways; yet, despite its age, the theatre was always kept in impeccable condition.

Finally, they passed the last brick building ("Fabulous Fabrics") of the town square. A big, bright ice cream sign caught Shane's attention. He grinned as Griffin steered her car into the parking lot and came to an abrupt stop beside a maroon mini-van. Sandy's Heaven was a favourite hang-out spot for teenagers, and was usually packed from the minute students were released from school until the second the doors were locked in the afternoon. The familiar red-brick building with its slanted roof and blue window shutters was always a pleasant sight for Shane's eyes.

"Fudge sundae, here I come!" Shane exclaimed. "Bern! Move your butt! I'm hungry!"

The red haired girl snorted. "When are you not?"

Childishly poking his tongue at the girl, Shane pushed the seat forward and sprang from the car. "Whew! Sometimes I forget how annoying it is to have ta squeeze through there," he said as he slammed the door.

Upon entering the cheerily coloured room, however, Shane forgot all his resentful thoughts. His eyes lighted on a fudge cake making its way across the room - held, of course, by a waitress. He licked his lips in anticipation. Ice cream was the absolute best - there was, according to the grey eyed boy, nothing that could even come close to comparing to the sublime feelings that filled his stomach when he licked at the delectable mixture of fudge, ice cream, whipped topping, and cherry.

"Come on, Shane," Griffin said as she walked past. "I suppose you don't mind where we sit?"

"Why would I mind?" Shane returned.

"All right, then I'll choose!" Bernadette exclaimed, a grin spreading across her face.

"Actually, I had already picked a table out," he announced, pointing to a random table. "Maybe next time, Bernie."

The red-haired girl smiled too sweetly and flipped a finger at him before following Griffin to the table Shane had indicated.

"Oh, I'm sooooo scared!" Shane quipped, lip twitching into a half-snarl.

Instead of retorting angrily, Bernadette merely turned and said, "You know, Shane, if I didn't know it weren't possible, I'd say you had P.M.S."

"If you hadn't already said that fifty billion times, I might be at a loss for what to say in return."

Bernadette opened her mouth, her forest-green eyes flashing angrily. However, instead of retorting, she merely turned on her heel and continued walking towards Griffin.

Shane did not have any time to ponder the red-head's actions. A quiet cough interrupted his musings and an amused voice asked, "Excuse me, but could you move?"

Pushing all thoughts of Bernadette to the back of his mind, Shane jerked towards the speaker with every intent on asking why should he - in a very impertinent manner to boot. Instead, he stammered, "Ahh ... Officer Perry."

The Chief of Police smiled benignly on him. "Good day, Shane," he said, black eyes twinkling in humour. "Still not quite getting along with Bernadette?"

"Err-"

"Don't worry - if she's anything like her mother, I completely understand." With a wink, the dark haired man strode purposefully towards a remote table, a beautiful dark haired woman following him. A woman who looked suspiciously like ... Shane squinted at her retreating figure.

"Aye! Shane! Do you intend to stand there all day?"

Turning, Shane poked his tongue at Griffin, then skipped to the table. "Hey, Griff... I thought I just saw your mom."

Eyebrows lifting in surprise, the girl searched the room, eyes finally alighting on the same woman Shane had noticed. "Oh," she sighed. "She's been talking to Officer Perry for a couple of weeks now - ever since her wallet was stolen from her purse. Personally, I think they're shagging - although she always denies it." Shagging was the British word for 'having sex' - or doing more, anyway, than just kissing. The word was one of the British mannerisms that Griffin had retained during her seven-year stay in America.

"It's romantic!" Bernadette exclaimed, green eyes twinkling. "Griffin, if I lost my wallet would you chase the scoundrel down for me?"

The pink-haired girl snorted. "If you paid me to."

Shane shook his head and slid into the empty seat, resting his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands.

"I have homework already," Bernadette wailed, slamming her fists onto the table-top. "Stupid Algebra teacher - who does she think she is? Giving us homework on the first day like that..."

"Miss Holly?" Shane asked, eyebrows knit.

"Better her than Mr. Innes," Griffin commented.

"The Trig teacher?" Bernadette traced the patterns on the surface with her index finger. "I don't have to worry about getting into any of his classes. I'm required to take Algebra I and Geometry to pass, so I'm getting those over with this year. There ain't no way I'm taking Trig or Calculus."

Shane snorted. "I wish I were smart enough." He poked Griffin with his thumb. "But you could, eh? You do make straight As in math subjects."

"Math won't help me much in getting into a good University if I can't write an essay," she added dryly.

"Oooh, I know just how you feel! English is so evil!" Bernadette exclaimed.

"To you, Bern, every academic class is evil," the pink-haired girl returned, one eyebrow arched in amusement.

Sighing dramatically, Bernadette said, "True, true."

"Hi!" a female voice exclaimed, attracting all three teens' attention. The young woman was wearing a knee-length, poofy cerulean-blue skirt and a yellow, collared shirt that sported a nameplate reading, in bold blue letters, "NORMA." Short, layered black hair framed her face and blue-green eyes sparkled behind narrow eye-glasses. "I'll be your waitress today!" she said, her voice still cheerful. "My name's Norma. Can I get you anything to drink or would you rather go straight for the desserts?"

Shane grinned. "I'll just hit the ice cream directly," he announced. "I'll have one of those fudge cakes and a fudge sundae. With a cherry on top."

"A'right," the waitress said as she scribbled on her notepad. "You two?" She smiled, her cheeks dimpling slightly.

"I'll have a water, please," Griffin informed the young woman.

"Hmm..." Bernadette sighed, staring intently at the menu. "I think I'll have some strawberry cheesecake."

"Okay!" Norma said. "Is this all on one ticket?"

"Nope," Shane said. "Though I bet Griffin's paying for Bernadette's food - if you can call that food."

"Well, since water's free, I'll just bring two, okay?" With a last grin, the girl walked gracefully towards the swinging door that red in large red letters, "EMPLOYEES ONLY."

"Wow - I think I'd have to kill myself if my parents called me 'Norma'," Bernadette declared as soon as the waitress was gone.

"Funny," Shane said, "I always thought the same of 'Bernadette'."

"Ha, ha," Bernadette replied, not a single note of humour evident in her voice. "Griffin's got a strange name as well."

"Well, at least hers has a background," Shane returned.

"You never told me," the red-head pouted, turning her attention on the other girl. "Griffin, I want to know too!"

"It's nothing extraordinarily interesting," the pink-haired girl shrugged. "You know my Mum's name is Phoenix, right?" Bernadette nodded enthusiastically, earning a snort from Shane and a fond smile from Griffin. "Well, all the women from her side of the family have the names of mythical creatures."

"Are you going to name your daughter after a mythological being as well?" Shane queried mischievously.

Light eyebrows arched questioningly, then contact-induced green cat-eyes rolled towards the ceiling. "You're such a prat, Shane."

"Yet, you still love me!"

"Hardly."

Shane grinned at his friend as he leaned his chair back on its two rear legs.

"If you do that you know you're just going to fall, right?" Bernadette asked, twirling a lock of vibrant hair around her index finger.

Rolling his eyes, Shane snorted, "I'm not going to fall." Suddenly, he felt something hit the bottom of his chair, lifting his feet off the ground and sending him backwards. With a loud, resounding crack, the yellow chair impacted with the floor.

"Oww!" he moaned, instinctively massaging his elbow where it had collided with the ground. Standing, he realised that he was the centre of attention. His cheeks coloured and he began bending to pull his chair to its feet when his eyes locked with pale, icy blue orbs. Shane's grey eyes widened and his breath caught. For a few seconds, time seemed to pause around him and the owner of the icy blue eyes. Then he blinked and life had resumed. The blue eyes, he noticed, were gone.

"Shane, are you all right?" Griffin asked, her eyebrows drawn in concern.

Bernadette opened her purse and began digging through it. "I know I have some aspirin in here somewhere..."

Waving a hand at their concerns, Shane finished setting his chair right and plonked onto it. "I'm fine - and the med would be nice, thanks."

"No prob," the red-head said. "Err...I didn't think you would actually fall."

"What did you think he would do? Miraculously maintain balance? You have to remember: this is Shane we're talking about."

"True, true," Bernadette replied as she handed Shane a couple of pills.

"I can't take them without something to drink!"

Griffin sighed. "You can have some of my water when it comes."

"Speaking of water..." Bernadette flung a hand towards the dark-haired waitress who was making her way towards their table. "I'm definitely ready for that cheesecake now!"

"And fudge and sundae and cherry!" Shane exclaimed, in his excitement almost forgetting his aching head. All thoughts of the strange blue eyes had fled his mind with the appearance of food.

A couple of hours later Shane found himself once more stepping from Griffin's blue Corvette. "See you two at school tomorrow!" he exclaimed, waving. After watching the car disappear around a corner, he ran a hand through his light brown hair and turned towards his house.

His eyes noted the old Chevrolet his parents drove to work everyday (they only had one for their entire family - usually, Shane's father drove his mother to work). Quickly dismissing the worse-for-wear vehicle, the youth turned his attention on the one-story building he was slowly walking towards.

It was not the most beautiful of houses; indeed, calling it beautiful or even remotely attractive would be lying. The dark brown bricks were faded in some areas, and appeared new in others. Shrubbery lined the otherwise bare walls; no shutters decorated the windows. A small patio was located before the dark blue door, its concrete smeared with the faint residue of brown mud and green grass.

Without a second thought towards the building set before him, Shane turned the brass doorhandle. He frowned when the door opened without him first unlocking it, then remembered since his parents were home there was no reason for it to be locked.

Laughing quietly at himself, the boy slipped into the house. "Mom! Da-"

Eyes widening, Shane fell to the ground. The last thing he saw before blackness enveloped him was his father's unblinking brown eyes.

Wow. That's very possibly one of the longest chapters for a story that I've ever written. ::laughs:: As for that tidbit I promised about Griffin - it's in response to a question concerning her British heritage. I'm not sure if I'm totally clear on when she moved, etc. and how long she's been in America, but I plan to resolve that now. Griffin is about sixteen years old in the story at present, and she has been living in America for close to seven years (I'm pretty sure Shane mentioned that at some point), which means that she moved around age nine. What I'm getting at is that she probably would be very influenced by the American language and slang. I suppose if you all couldn't derive that from what I wrote, I should take it as a sign I didn't write that part well, huh? ::sighs::

Anyway, here's a little something I had floating around my mind and decided to write and post as a little something extra. Think of this as a sneak to events in the future. ::winks::

A deep laugh filled Shane's ears. He flinched, stepping backwards.

"Ah, Shane, you amuse me. Didn't you know I'm not susceptible to your charm?"

Gritting his teeth, Shane folded his arms across his chest. "Then why'd you-"

"To fluster you," he responded smoothly, running a hand through the youth's light brown hair. "My kind aren't charmable - you would have known that if you had made some attempt at research."

Frustration swelling in his body, Shane swatted the hands away. "First you humiliate me, then you insult me. Why don't you just go away?"

"Maybe I'm just...captured by you," he returned, eyes twinkling.

Shane opened his mouth to protest, but instantly forgot why he had wanted to in the first place when he found himself crushed in an embrace. An intimate embrace. Sighing, he laced his arms around the other man as he was kissed like he had never been kissed before.

This, he thought hazily, is something I could get used to.

||Chapter Two: A Page Turned||

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