Drag and Drop

The cab driver caught Peter's eye in the rearview. "That'll be seven-fifty."

Looking up, Peter realized they had reached his destination. A thrill of anticipation and sheer nerves skittered along his spine and his pulse accelerated. After climbing from the cab's back seat and paying the driver, he took a moment to calm himself and study the guesthouse where he'd stayed every time he came to Key West-- every time but this one. Now he was no tourist, but an actual property owner.

The guesthouse was nice in the way of hundred and fifty year old wooden houses; three stories with two porches on the front, each running the width of the house. The entire building was constructed with wood taken from an old sailing vessel, or so the story went. Fanciful railings trimmed the porches like lace on a lady's cuff. Oddly shaped little windows peered from under the eaves as if the house inspected each visitor with a critical eye.

The front door stood wide open in welcome as it always did. The scent of baking beckoned to Peter as he climbed the porch steps.

He sniffed appreciatively. Mmm, apples and cinnamon. His stomach growled. He hadn't had anything since that uber-large cup of coffee at the Philly airport that morning, and now he was starving.

Inside was more wood, the hallway gleaming from decades of polishing by hundreds of loving hands. Peter followed the familiar runner patterned with bright cabbage roses that led deeper into the house. From somewhere he heard the ring of familiar male laughter. His lips curved and a shiver danced over his skin.

Peter quickened his steps, drawn by the sound of laughter as much as he was compelled by his own anticipation. He passed through a small office area that held a desk with a phone and computer, At last reaching the kitchen and stopped in the doorway to take in the sight of the man he loved.

From the back CJ was all lean hips and slim shoulders. He wore a snug t-shirt, baggy cargo shorts and his feet were bare. A sweep of hair the color of sunlight tumbled past his shoulders to the middle of his back.

Peter's mouth watered at the positively lickable sight of him.

"Well, we'll be looking forward to it, Mr. Haley. And I'll be sending you a confirmation email with ..."

CJ turned, his words fading away and his eyes going wide as he caught sight of Peter in the doorway.

And oh, those eyes!

High summer blue, they were fringed with lashes so long and thick they could have swept the floor, and as dark as soot in direct contrast with all that blond perfection.

So perfect, so gorgeous and so like Peter's fondest wet dream come to life, he stole Peter's breath.

Suddenly swamped with the need to touch and taste and take, Peter held himself back. Oh how he wanted to seize that phone, end the call and share his news with this man who had come to mean so much to him.

Share his news? Hell, he wanted to seize CJ, drag him to the floor and show him, in vivid detail, how much he'd missed him.

Of course sex was safe, sex was a sure thing. He knew well that CJ's lust burned as bright and hot as his own, and had ever since that first time they'd come together nearly a year ago. His news however, might not be so well received. So as hard as it was, he stood still

But for the smile he couldn't suppress and the desire he knew must show in his eyes.

Was it too soon? Too much? Too fast?

Maybe. Probably. But what the hell? He was twenty-eight-years-old and had never said the L-word to anyone, let alone considered uprooting his life to be near that person.

All these thoughts rattled around in his head as he stood still and waited for CJ to finish his call.