Written by KayCee

DISCLAIMER: This story is not meant to infringe on anyone's copyrights. Tim doesn't belong to me, but I wish he did. (really wish he did)

Many thanks to my many Beta Readers: Suzan, Pam, and Dorinda. If I missed someone else, I'm sorry. It's been a while since I wrote this.

Comments are welcome, especially if you find a typos.

The door closed with a quiet snick behind Tim Bayliss, loneliness swirling around him like a cloak. He switched on the lights, flooding his room with a golden glow, hoping to drive the shadows back into the night, and trying to shake off the moodiness which had descended on him.

Tonight's date, his walk on the wild side with another man, had him wondering if the whole enterprise was all that wild. Chris Rawls turned out to be just what he'd expected, intelligent, funny, and surprisingly sweet natured. The food tasted great, the wine flowed and he'd enjoyed himself more than he would have believed possible.

Yet, the evening had left him with a vague sense of dissatisfaction. What had he expected more, or less, than he'd received? He couldn't venture a guess. All he knew was that he wanted to spend more time with the good-looking restaurateur. And he wanted the kiss they'd shared at the end of the evening to be repeated, often.

Back at Chris's apartment after dinner, he'd felt mellow and well fed. They had talked and laughed for a long time, rambling from topic to topic without a backward glance. His ever - chaotic thoughts tumbled out without any control, but Chris didn't seem to mind, indeed, his green eyes stayed alight with interest and good humor.

The night had sped by, and he had to leave. Tim stood by the door, holding his coat, watching Chris approached him hesitantly, his expressive green eyes asking permission before attempting a touch. Tim swallowed compulsively, nodded nervously, fear and wanting dancing along his nerves.

Tim sighed. Chris' lips were soft and sweet, his first kiss barely a feather-light brushing. He wanted more, and followed Chris' mouth as it retreated, seeking a second, more substantial taste.

He nibbled along the soft mouth, never expecting kissing a man would be so sweet. Chris stepped closer, deepening the kiss, his tongue sliding out to lick at Tim's mouth. Vibrations assailed his whole body as Chris' tongue mapped the landscape of his mouth, teasing him. Starting to sweat, his heart pounding, he shuddered violently, arousal sliding through him fast and furious.

He continued to kiss Chris for a long time, his back pressed to the door, Chris' lean hard body in his arms. The scents of his and Chris' arousal wafted between them, mixing with Chris' unique smell, nearly overpowering his senses.

Too soon, it became time to decide what the next step would be. With what little brain power he had left, he tried valiantly to move beyond the haze of lust to a rational contemplation.

Not tonight. It couldn't be tonight. He didn't want to ruin their chances by moving too quickly. A certain comfort level was necessary before he could go further and this was too new, too different to rush. Chris and what he offered were to be savored, slowly, like the fine wine they had tonight. Soon -- there was no doubt he'd be ready soon -- but not now.

Gently pulling away, he looked down as the long dark lashes lifted on those intense green eyes. Chris' eyes were what first had intrigued him about the man, so expressive, so easy to read.

"Too soon?" Chris smiled, making it easy for both of them.

Tim nodded, blowing out a deep breath. "Yeah, sorry." And he was.

"It's okay. I'm glad you let it go this far. There will be other times."

"Soon," Tim promised.

Chris nodded. "When can I see you again?"

When? He didn't want to leave without confirming that he'd really see this man again. "Tomorrow?"

Chris smiled at him, pleasure in his eyes. "8:00 again?"

Leaning down, he kissed Chris one more time. "Yeah."

And he'd left, a sense of disappointment and edgy arousal dogging his steps home.

Once there, he fixed himself a drink and downed it quickly, enjoying the feel of the fire down his throat. He headed toward the bedroom, stripping of his clothes, and threw them over a chair next to the bed.

He slipped between the sheets. Normally he wore his boxer's to bed, but tonight he wanted to feel the smooth cotton of the sheets down the length of his body.

Lying on his back, he waited for sleep to overtake him; he was tired, but restless. A jittery feeling sang along his nerves, not letting him relax. He couldn't shake the unease.

Maybe he'd expected too much from tonight's outing. Chris Rawls would not be the solution to his problems, but what he'd told Frank earlier today had been the absolute truth. He hadn't been happy in longer than he could remember. Nothing and no one seemed to change that.

Yes, he'd enjoyed himself tonight and wanted to do it again soon, but there had been something missing, some elusive quality he could not catch or name, only knowing he wanted it.

Turning over onto his stomach, his half-hard cock pressed into the sheets pleasantly. He bucked down, enjoying the feel, not seriously trying to rouse himself. Maybe he should have stayed with Chris. At least he would not have had to sleep alone.

But no, it had been too soon. If he wanted what was between them to be anything more than just sex, then he needed to give it some time. He knew only too well what happened when he rushed into things: he ended up with his heart broken or with cold, stale sex. Nourishment for neither the body or the soul.

Juliana Cox's sharp, beautiful features came into his mind, reminding him of what cold sex could be like. Juliana was exciting and sex had been great, but there was no emotion between them and he couldn't stand to have her in his house when he was done with her. It had given him a vague dirty feeling to be around her when they were done with the sex.

Thinking about fucking anyone made his cock start to fill more. He was beginning to believe he wasn't going to get any sleep tonight. Rolling over onto his back, Tim stretched his long leg out, trying to calm his arousal.

No such luck; memories of Chris' mouth on his and Juliana's mouth everywhere brought him up to full arousal. Never one to deny himself, he gave in to his own needs. Time to do something about it.

He sat up, reaching for the hand cream in the drawer by his bed, and laid it on the pillow behind him. When he needed to take care of his own needs, and Juliana aside, that was a lot of the time, he liked to indulge himself, and do it right. Who would know or care?

Sliding onto his knees, he sat back with his thighs spread. The moonlight shining through the big window cast the room in an eerie light. He closed his eyes and wove a fantasy of a faceless lover, loving him, caressing his skin softly, with just the finger tips of one hand.

Slowly, down his chest, his fingers trailed while he allowed his mind to wander. The faceless lover became Chris for a while, then drifted to Juliana, but she was eased out by Laura Ballard's smiling face.

Tim rode with the images, hands caressing his belly, then up again. There was only one place his mind would not go. A place he didn't let himself think about even in fantasy. Tweaking his nipples sharply, he brought his mind back under control. He would not go there.

The pleasure/pain brought a gasp to his full lips, and spurred him on. The need was building now, just starting to invade the edges of his conscious mind. It would get worse. He hoped to bring it out farther.

Uncapping the hand cream, he poured some in his hand, letting it warm before applying it to his heated skin. He loved the silky feel of the cream against his flesh, loved the feel of his rough fingers spreading it into his nipples. Not able to hold back a groan, he panted, his head fell back, his mouth open, wishing for a kiss. There was none to be had.

A thought touched his mind, something he hadn't tried before, something new. The idea intrigued him, it was so forbidden, dark. Hadn't someone said he needed to explore his dark side. He didn't want think about who.

Reaching around to his ass, he slid a slippery finger down into the crevice between his cheeks as the other hand slowly stroked his hard cock.

What would it feel like to allow Chris to touch him like this? Good. It was very good. There were tons of nerve endings around the ring of his anus. The slippery finger woke them up, and his hips canted forward. Pleasure of a sort he hadn't felt before tore through him. He wanted more.

He slid the finger in, not sure what to expect. Not unpleasant, full, interesting.

What if it were Chris' fingers inside him? If they became lovers, it could be. The idea didn't appall him at all. Actually, it turned him on more.

The ring relaxed and let him move in and out. Nice. Sexy.

Arousal grew, his balls tightened. He was getting close. Need caught him, his movements became faster, more rhythmic. Panting and sweating, his mind spun out, all control lost.

An image came to him as he crested the huge mountain he was climbing, a dark face with dark eyes, smiling at him as they almost never did.

"Frank!" he called as he came.

Falling forward with the force of his orgasm, seeing the truth in the image, owning it for that second. Tim groaned, knowing at last what had been missing tonight.


But as the final remnants of orgasm left him, so did the image and the truth he would deny with his last breath.

The scents of sex permeating the bed, the cooling leftovers drying on the sheet, Tim didn't have the strength to clean up. He rolled over, burying his head under the pillows and let sleep take him.