Date: Mon, 24 Mar 2014 20:52:53 +0100
From: Jayson Leigh <jmleighwrites@gmail.com>
Subject: Up Close and Personal - Chapter 7

UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL
by
Jayson Leigh


This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or locations,
or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The author retains
all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent.

Author's Note: thoughts, comments, etcetera... jmleighwrites@gmail.com



Chapter 7

Once More with Feeling



      Glasses chinked, plates clattered and the buzz of conversation around
Leo grew louder still. Three weeks, he'd been in New York and today was his
first public appearance. It still felt too soon. This was one of his
favorite restaurants, unfortunately it was located in a busy hotel hence
the large crowd still dining late at night.

      He looked down at his nearly empty plate and tried to remember what
his meal had tasted like. He couldn't recall. He gulped down water, looking
away from a dark haired man who was staring intently. What did people hope
to see? Scars from his suicide attempt? He'd taken pills. There were no
visible effects for crying out loud.

      "Are you okay?" Paul asked.

      "You need to stop asking me that."

      "Everyone's watching you."

      "You noticed."

      Paul nodded. "We could leave if you want-"

      "I can't hide away forever. Stein finally signed my release and I'm
going back on tour. I might as well get used to the gawking now."

      Paul drained the rest of his seltzer water. "I'm getting
dessert. Care for anything?"

      Leo pointedly stared back at the man watching him. The man blinked
first then looked away shamefully. He turned to Paul. "Scotch and soda,
tall glass, lots of ice."

      Paul glared at him for a moment then beckoned a waiter. He ordered
coffee for both of them.

      "You'd said the tour could be rescheduled... pushed back, if I
wanted...?"

      Paul was silent, considering the question carefully. "What are you
saying?"

      "I'm just wondering... I wouldn't mind some time..."

      There were a few moments of silence before Paul said softly, "We've
got too much riding on this. Stein's given you a clean bill of health and
if you pull out now, Christ, the lawsuits... Atlantis will be on you for
breach of contract and Perry will have both our heads. Then there are tour
advertisers and sponsors who need to recoup their investments, not to talk
of the fans..."

      "So that's a no, then?"

      Paul snorted. "Yeah, that's about right."

      Leo looked away.

      "But you're okay, though, right? You're ready to work?"

      What did it matter? Leo wondered.  He gazed out the restaurant's
all-glass exterior wall which overlooked the front way of the hotel. He had
earlier observed quite a number of town cars and limousines pulling up to
let out elegant couples in black-tie attire. He assumed there was some sort
of event in the hotel's ballroom and couldn't help but wish he could get
over himself and be as carefree as the invited guests cheerfully making
their way in there.

      "We could get you back into treatment when the tour's over."

      Leo poured cream in his coffee and stirred slowly.

      "Pine Valley Detox; it's in Idaho. I heard good things about
it. Trevor Stone did a stint there a couple of years ago."

      Leo rolled his eyes derisively. "Look how well that turned out."
Trevor Stone was the lead singer of an eighties rock band who'd been killed
the previous year in a car accident.

      "Pine Valley maintains that he was successfully treated for
prescription med abuse not alcohol which led to his death-"

      "You bought that...?"

      Paul shrugged. "It's a nice place. I think you'd like
it. Thousand-acre ranch, isolated from just about everything. They've got
mountains, horses..."

      "Do I look like a fucking cowboy to you?"

      Paul laughed, coughing slightly when his sip of coffee went down the
wrong way. "You don't have to make a decision now. I'll put some brochures
together."

       Leo hummed, staring idly around the room then locking gazes with a
woman just two tables away who seemed to have been poured into a cleavage
bearing dress. She looked twice his age with a mass of curly brunette hair
which she twirled seductively around her fingers. She batted her eyelashes
and licked her lips suggestively. He looked away quickly.

      "Back to LA tomorrow?" he asked with a definite hint of sadness in
his voice.

      "Yeah," Paul said shortly. "We owe them one more show then we're
off."

      He noticed that the brunette a few tables away was still watching him
intently, but she wasn't alone anymore. Her companion, an attractive blonde
was now watching him closely. Great. It was time, he decided, to end the
freak show.

      "I'm leaving," he told Paul.

      "Sure, I'll take care of the check."

      He left the table and began making his way out, ignoring whispers
that grew steadily louder as he walked across the restaurant.

      Once out the door, he noticed the entrance to the ballroom which was
indeed hosting an event. A sign next to the doorway revealed that it was
the annual gala for The Henry Keating Memorial AIDS Foundation. He stole a
glance inside and was just turning away when he noticed a slight, blond
figure in the corner of his eye.

      He blinked; unsure of what he'd seen. A man's back, dressed in a
perfectly fitted tuxedo as he disappeared into the restroom. He wanted to
walk away but a maniacal voice yelled in his head to go after him.

      What were the odds he reasoned, that of all the hotels in New York
City, Shane Roderick would walk into his own?

      He turned in the direction of the restroom, walked there quickly
before he thought too hard about his decision. At the door, he paused and
took in a deep breath, then pushed it open.



      ###



      "...did you hear about the tornado down in Kansas?"

      "How bad?"

      "Record breaking I hear..."

      "...look at him. He's drooling at her feet."

      "Ugh. I think he just met his next ex-wife."

      "I hear wife number three got zilch in the divorce settlement..."

      "...let me get this straight, you didn't get the role and now you're
screwing her?

      "She's casting the next Carson Cox movie. I'd be crazy to turn her
down!"

      "That's bullshit. So what's it like fucking your grandma?"

      "She's kind of hot; Google her. I think she got some work done. She
used to be a beauty queen back in the day..."

      Shane made his way across the crowded ballroom, nodding, smiling and
acknowledging a growing number of acquaintances.  He needed a refill and
refused to get dragged into any more inane conversations until he was
sufficiently buzzed.  Putting up with this crowd and their brand of
industry gossip required a distinct lack of sobriety. Spying a waiter,
finally, he slid his lithe frame with ease between packed bodies and
replaced his empty flute with another champagne filled glass.

      The gala was in full swing, attractive people in black tie, flowing
gowns and glittering diamonds milled around while the band played yet
another Billy Joel cover. Where was Jen? He wondered. They should probably
start a drinking game; one drink every time Up Town Girl came on and two
for Piano Man. An opening among the crowd of people revealed his producer,
Trent McCarthy slow dancing with a new intern.

      "Trent's going to get us sued one of these days," a voice muttered
behind Shane. With a wide grin, he turned around to face his best friend
dressed to the nines in a slinky dress and from the looks of it, a drink or
two away from falling flat on her face.

      Shane plucked a tall glass from her fingers and replaced it with his
half-drunk champagne flute. He said teasingly, "You don't think he's really
in love with this one? They do seem like a match made in heaven."

      Jenny rolled her eyes. Warm light from the overhead chandeliers cast
a glow on her face, making her green eyes flash dangerously as she leaned
in to speak emphatically. "They all think he's their ticket to the big
leagues. Like they'll blow him and bam, he'll put them on TV. I swear I was
never that naïve."

      "That's because you're an old soul," Shane said before taking a sip
of her cocktail and regretting it instantly. "What the hell is this?"

      Jenny shrugged, her loose red curls catching the light with every
shake of her shoulders. "I don't know, but I've had three and they get
better as they go down."

      Shane took another sip of the poison-disguised-as-a-cocktail; it
burned his throat going down so he handed it back to Jenny, retrieving his
own champagne. "Tastes like one part vodka, two parts gasoline, and an
ounce of regret. You're going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow
morning."

      "Good thing we don't shoot tomorrow so I can sleep in. Shouldn't you
be busy doing your spokesperson duties? Wringing high-rollers for more
donations or something? I swear I saw Rowan somewhere..." She said with a
wave of her hand around the ballroom.

      "Yeah, he's here but Dominic couldn't make it. Aidan's come down with
the flu or something."

      Jenny arched a brow. "They couldn't get a sitter?"

      "Maybe it's serious."

      "That never stopped Dom partying in the past."

      He threw her a look and she shrugged. "It's just odd, that's all."

      Shane sighed. "I haven't called him recently but he did text a photo
of them in their boat out in Montauk. Since he rsvp'd I thought for sure
I'd see him tonight."

      "You should call him," she said.

      Shane made a mental note to do just that then allowed her link her
arm with his and steer him towards the dance floor.

      As the spokesperson of the Henry Keating Memorial AIDS Foundation,
Shane had been in schmooze mode all night, hugging, kissing, and milking
contributions from the well-heeled attendees. He'd called in favors from
many of his celebrity friends and he could only hope that their generosity
would match their enthusiasm as this was the charity's biggest fundraising
event of the year.

      An extremely well-preserved woman in her sixties, elegant with
strands of diamonds dripping from her ears and throat waved at him. He made
his excuses to Jen who shimmied her way to the dance floor and took a turn
towards the woman waiting for him, narrowly dodging a tipsy guest with a
very loose grip on his cocktail glass.

      Melinda Keating held out her arms, exclaiming, "I think we just might
do it."

      Shane walked into the embrace, allowing the older heiress place a
tender kiss on his cheek. "Do what exactly, Mel?" he inquired.

      "Cole says we're blowing last year's donations out of the water."

      Amused, he turned to the CEO of the foundation with a raised
eyebrow. Melinda was prone to exaggerations every now and then.

      "Not quite," Cole pronounced. "I just came in from the backroom, and
even though the accountants aren't done totaling the auction bids yet,
we're already slightly ahead of last year. Your industry friends came
through. The foundation's going to get so much done this year because of
you. I could kiss you right now."

      Shane dearly hoped he wouldn't. "I didn't do anything," he said self
deprecatingly. "Melinda should get all the credit for planning such a
splendid event."

       "That's kind of you honey. My Henry would've been so proud," Melinda
said with a soft sigh. "Next week would've been his thirty fifth birthday."
She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a tissue. I can't believe he's
been gone seven years already.

      Shane slid an arm around the older lady comfortingly. She was still
mourning the death of her only so to the virus years ago, and had founded
the non-profit in his memory. He felt his phone vibrate in his inner pocket
stepped away to glance at it, shocked when he found Drew's face smiling
on-screen.

      The unexpected image of the other man stirred forgotten
memories. He'd taken the photograph during a short vacation, three blissful
nights over Labor Day weekend in the Hamptons last year. He'd captured Drew
at dinner, relaxed and deeply tanned; the setting sun in the distance
casting a slight shadow over him as dark aviator shades covered his hazel
eyes. They'd spent warm blissful days in the sun and hot ardent nights in
bed... it'd been one of the last times they'd been truly happy together.

      He let out a slow breath once the phone went silent. Why was Drew
calling now? It'd been a week without any word and now...what? He didn't
want to deal with this. He went back to Melinda and Cole who seemed to have
fallen into some kind of argument.

      "I don't see why we can't just break ground on a new infectious
diseases wing at the Metropolitan Hospital. They deserve the funding and
they were so good to us when my dear Henry passed..."

      Cole cleared his throat noisily. "These decisions have to go through
the board, Melinda dear-"

      "They never see things my way. It's all about the research with them,
but what about care?"

      Shane didn't want to get into this discussion with Melinda and Cole
again. Better minds than his were still deciphering the problem of research
versus care. While the donations had been generous today, it was still a
drop in the ocean compared to what they needed to make a difference. He'd
only agreed to become a spokesperson for the foundation because the
HIV/AIDS cause was near and dear to his heart. Putting up with Cole and
Melinda's bickering was the price he paid for it.

      When he heard the opening strains of another Billy Joel song, he
found a way out. He stepped in between the two of them and suggested
casually, "Cole, why don't you take Mel for a spin on the dance floor? She
didn't request these Billy Joel covers just to sit them out the entire
night?"

      He watched them take the floor with a pleased grin when he began
feeling the effects of the liquor he'd been throwing down all night; time
to head to the restroom.



      ###



      Shane was washing his hands at the sink when he heard his name. His
heart skipped a beat. He knew that voice. He cursed whichever god was
playing a mean joke on him because surely, it couldn't be.

      He could do either of two things; look up and see Leo's reflection in
the mirror or turn around and see Leo in person. He did neither. Not
because he wanted to, but because he was frozen. He continued looking down
at his hands, staring unseeingly at the soapy suds and running water. He
tried to think of something, anything, to say, but his mind remained
frustratingly blank.

      "Shane?" Leo called out again, a bit uncertain this time.

      Good, thought Shane, realizing that he'd hated the confident tone
he'd heard the first time. He closed the faucet then forced himself to turn
around slowly.

      His breath caught in the back of his throat, taking in the other
man's troubled dark eyes, a few days' worth of stubble on his cheeks and
dark hair, slightly longer than he remembered. He looked tense, like he was
carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Despite it all, he still
looked good, Shane admitted to himself, drinking in the sight of the other
man like water going down a parched throat. Then he stopped the train of
thought because he knew how dangerous it was to think about what the tall,
dark haired man did to him.

       	Still, he wasn't going to make this easy for him, so he said
nothing. He knew he was making the other man nervous, but he didn't
care. He came after me, he reasoned, not the other way round. Let him make
the first move.

      "I, uh..." Leo began uncertainly.

      Shane arched one quizzical blond brow in a look that managed to be
both questioning and insulting.

      Leo gulped hard and tried again. "Could, umm, could we talk?"

      "Go ahead," he replied shortly.

      "Umm, alone...? Leo said, with a glance at the stalls behind him.

      He shrugged. "Now is a good time as any. It will definitely be the
second and last time you'll ever get me alone." In the harsh fluorescent
lighting, Shane could see Leo blushing deeply, his cheeks flushing with
embarrassment.

      After a moment, he tried again. "Paul told me you called when I was,
um, yeah... Thanks."

      Shane nodded. When Leo said nothing else, he made a move to step away
from the sink but Leo reached out for his arm, pleading, "Wait. Please
don't go."

      He shook Leo's hand off and stepped back again. Feeling angry that
he'd let Leo touch him, but strangely pleased at the same time. Images of
the night they'd spent together began to creep into his mind, but he shook
his head to get rid of them. He hated that he still found Leo so
attractive. Focus, he reminded himself. You're supposed to be mad.

      "I'm sorry about what happened..." said Leo.

      Shane considered the half-assed apology that had just been put
forward. "I'm not," he retorted.

      "No, I'm not sorry for what happened. I mean, I'm sorry for what I
did after, for leaving you the way I did. It was stupid, immature. It had
nothing to do with you. I don't regret what we did, but I'm sorry for what
I did, to you, I'm sorry."

      He blinked, struck silent by the Leo's words. He wished he could
think of something mocking to say, but found himself taken by the sincerity
and regret that cloaked every word.

      "I know I can't change what I-"

      "Are you finished, yet?" Shane cut in abruptly. He knew he was acting
unnecessarily hostile, but however was he supposed to respond to an
unsolicited apology? Despite Leo's regret, nothing changed. Absolutely
nothing had changed between them.

      "Shane," Leo said softly. "It was nothing personal-"

      He couldn't help but interrupt indignantly. "Nothing personal...? I
don't understand why people use that phrase, nothing personal. All it
means, is it was nothing personal to you but it was personal to me, okay?"
He stopped suddenly, angry at himself for showing any emotion.

      "I can't do this," he decided. "I've got to go." He stepped around
Leo and made for the door. His hand was just an inch from the handle when
Leo blurted out suddenly, "I want to see you again."

      Shane stopped and turned around. He said in disbelief, "You can't be
serious!"

      "I am...," Leo explained almost desperately. "I need to see you
again."

      "Why?"  He asked curiously, he almost couldn't believe his ears.

      Leo let out a soft breath, wondering how to phrase an answer he
barely understood himself. "I want you. I do. I can't get you out of
mind. I tried to pretend I wasn't... Look, I don't really understand what's
going on here, but I don't want to ignore it."

      Shane shook his head slowly. "I don't think that's a good idea."

      "Why? Because of what happened before?"

      "No, I don't think you know what you want..."

      "I know you feel the same way I do."

      "No, Leo. You have no idea how I feel about you."

      "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean-?"

      "We shouldn't even be having this conversation. You're with Joni
Sampson and I'm with-"

      "We broke up."

      Shane was unmoved. "You broke up? Well that's just too bad. You two
were probably perfect for each other... No, I'm sorry. That was mean. I
shouldn't have said that. I barely know either of you." With a sigh, he
continued, "It's never going to happen again. Los Angeles was a hookup. It
was stupid and beautiful and we should just leave it be... Besides you've
got your career to think about."

      "I don't give a flying fuck about my career," Leo said dismissively.

      "You will, when you're on the cover of every tabloid in the country."

      "I already am."

      Shane blinked, struck again by how much he really didn't know about
the man who'd been occupying his thoughts lately. He wondered if this was
what he'd been waiting for, then why didn't it sound more appealing? He'd
wanted this from Leo, right? Wanted to be wanted, needed, by him? So why
did it feel oddly unsatisfying? He mused out loud. "What do you want from
me? A fling, a relationship, what?"

      Leo took a hopeful step toward him. His gaze was heavy and
shameless. It tracked every movement of Shane's mouth, his eyes, and his
body. It left him in no doubt of what Leo really wanted from him.

      "I just want you... however, whichever way... I'll take you anyway I
can-"

      Panicked, Shane interrupted him hastily. "No." Thoughts of Drew came
to mind, the oddly possessive, inanimate way Drew had treated him at the
end of their relationship. The idea of Leo wanting him in the same way was
off putting.

      If he was going to be `taken', he decided, it would be completely;
mind, body and soul. Too often, he gave up his body without bothering with
the rest, but no more. He knew he was worth more than Leo was offering. He
deserved better than to be a come hole for guys like Drew and Leo who
needed a quick fuck and a massage to their egos.

      "You want me?"

      Leo nodded slowly, brown eyes lighting up optimistically.

      "You don't even know me," he said quietly. Thinking about Drew's
vehemence to him just over a week ago had him adding, "You probably
wouldn't like me, if you did." He paused then continued more resolutely,
"You think you're willing to risk your career for a quick fuck, and maybe
it will be salvageable after everything goes down, but not my heart. I'm
not willing to risk my heart again... I'm sorry."

      With that, he opened the door and left the restroom quickly, not
turning back to the sound of Leo calling his name.

      Leo's first impulse was to go after him, but he stopped himself. He
ran his hands through his dark hair, trying to consider all that Shane had
told him. He heard the door open behind him and he looked back hoping to
see Shane. It wasn't.

      He departed then and walked through the hallway only to realize that
the two cougars from earlier, Brunette and her friend, Blondie, from the
restaurant had trailed him to the restroom. They giggled with excitement
and gushed about how they'd bought every single one of his albums. He
refrained from asking them if they'd been purchased for their teenage
sons. One offered her arm to autograph while the other shoved her chest his
way. He signed quickly and excused himself politely.

      By the time he reached the ballroom, he realized the gala was
over. Crowds milled about the lobby and even though he'd been hoping to
catch a glimpse of Shane one more time, it was impossible to find him.



      ###



      Hours later, Shane sloshed his glass of red wine as he entered his
bedroom. Jasmine pattered quickly to the spill on the floor and sniffed,
but didn't lick. Smart dog, he thought. He wasn't much of a fan of the
Cabernet Sauvignon he was drinking, but the only other liquor available on
the wine rack had been that bottle of champagne he and Drew neglected that
night. He'd gone for the wine, thinking it'd get him exactly where he
wanted tonight, stone cold drunk.

      Carefully placing the glass on the dresser, he went into the bathroom
to get some tissue to clean up. He caught sight of Drew's monogramed towel
hanging on the rack and grabbed it gleefully. He rubbed at the spill
vigorously, ensuring that every drop of wine got soaked up and was quite
pleased to find a huge red stain on the ivory bath sheet. He decided
pettily that he wouldn't launder it so the stain stayed exactly that way
and never came out.

      His phone vibrated and he glanced at it. Drew. Speak of the devil, he
thought. Looking to Jasmine who was licking her paws complacently on the
bed, he asked her, "What say you?"

      She snorted.

      "I agree." He ignored his phone and threw the towel in the laundry
basket then proceeded to pull off his bowtie and jacket. The phone started
ringing again.

      He threw a glance back at the dog. "It's all on you, Jas," he said
playfully. "If you tell me to, I'll talk to him... just say the word."

      She stared at him with soft, unblinking brown eyes. He grinned. "I
guess not."

      He went to the linen closet to retrieve a fresh set of sheets. He'd
realized that sleeping in a bed with the scent of an absent Drew so close
by every night had become a little unsettling. He prodded Jasmine until she
got the message and jumped off the bed with a resentful look at him.

      "Give me two minutes," he called to her retreating figure, "and you
can get back on."

      He was just tucking in the final corner when his phone rang one more
time. He rolled his eyes at Drew's persistence and reached for his wine
glass when he caught sight of the number flashing on the phone.

      Odd; it was an area code he was unfamiliar with. 314 was nowhere near
the tri-state area or New England for that matter. Further south or west,
he concluded. He took the call out of curiosity and then in a stunning
repeat of events earlier that evening, his mind went blank when he heard
the voice on the other end.

      He reflexively reached for the glass of wine and drained it. When his
heart wasn't beating so fast and the pounding in his ears finally receded,
he said, "Leo?"

      "Hi."

      "How did you get my number?"

      "That's no way to talk to a friend." Leo said innocently.

      Shane bit back a laugh. "Why are you doing this?"

      "I want to talk," Leo replied. He sounded more confident than he'd
done just hours ago. Like he'd had time to think and knew exactly what he
was doing this time.

      Shane sat back on the bed with the phone cradled between his ear and
shoulder, slipped his feet out of his shoes and socks then sighed
softly. "So, talk."

      "You left something with me."

      "Really?" Shane said, taken aback. "What?"

      Leo paused for a beat. "Your pen."

      He couldn't help the chuckle that slipped from his lips. "Seriously?
You're going to pull that stunt again?"

      "Hey, it worked the last time."

      "Yeah," Shane said then in a more serious tone, added, "It worked
quite well last time."

      "It's got your name on it," Leo said suggestively.

      He closed his eyes, allowed himself get lost in the attractively low
timbre of Leo's voice so close to him. "I'm sure my name's right next to
the hotel logo."

      Leo laughed but didn't refute him. "I could bring it over. You
probably need it tonight."

      "Yeah," Shane said agreeably, "I plan to do a lot of writing at 1:30
in the morning."

      Silence filled the air until Leo exhaled softly. "Shane..."

      He shivered unintentionally. Leo's voice had gone low, rough with
desire and Shane felt incredibly powerful in that moment. The way Leo
sounded now, it was because of him. He made him feel that way and he was
this close to saying something, anything Leo wanted him to say, when the
soft fur of Jasmine's pelt brushed against his bare foot.

      His eyes snapped open and he sat up. What the fuck was he doing?
"I've got to go," he said with a conviction he didn't really feel. Before
Leo could say anything in response, he clicked the end button on the phone.

      Anger and confusion coursed through him. He didn't get more time to
think because Jasmine ran out of the room barking. He followed her with
concern. Jasmine wasn't one to expend energy on gratuitous barking when she
could be snoozing on his bed.

      He watched her run in circles, barking excitedly at the knocking
coming from the front door. He hushed her gently. "That's okay, Jas."

      Flinging the door open, he found himself face to face, for the second
time that day, with Leo. He couldn't even speak; just watched the dark
haired man leaning against the door frame. He was still dressed in the same
jeans and T-shirt from earlier but he'd also thrown on a military style
jacket.

      With a smile, he removed the phone from his ear. "I was just about to
call you back."

      "What are you doing here?"

      Leo smiled even wider and dug a hand in his jacket to pull out a pen,
swinging it in front of Shane's face. "You did say you had a lot of writing
to do tonight..."

      "That's one too many times you've used that excuse."

      Leo persisted. "Are you sure? I could've sworn I saw you with it-"

      "In the restroom?" Shane asked skeptically.

      "Maybe if you'd let me in, we could figure out just what's going on
here. There's obviously been a mistake. We should resolve it."

      Shane took a step back and pressed the door securely to his
side. "That is so not a good idea. I know what's going to happen if you
come in ..."

      Leo shrugged innocently, "Absolutely nothing."

      "I don't trust you."

      "You should."

      "Fine, I don't trust myself."

      Leo grinned. "I've got enough trust for the both of us."

      Shane looked down at his bare feet, pressing his toes against the
cool hardwood floor until they turned white.

      "I didn't get a chance to tell you earlier," Leo said as he reached
forward with one hand to grasp Shane's chin and lifted his gaze up to his
meet his own, "that you look absolutely stunning in a tuxedo."

      Shane blushed, looked away, thrown by the casual way Leo said
it. Like his words were so unequivocally true that he didn't even need to
infuse them with any conviction to persuade Shane about their
accuracy. "Tom Ford makes everyone look good," he muttered.

      Leo watched him, and emboldened, stepped forward to place both hands
to the sides of Shane's face, angled it in the right direction and then
pressed his mouth to his.

      Shane's senses went into overdrive. He tried not to think about how
much he'd been waiting for this to happen, how a part of him had wanted Leo
to do just this, ignore his protests and kiss him. He didn't put up any
resistance when Leo's tongue parted his lips; he sighed and slid their
tongues together.

      He heard a low moan come from the back of his own throat as he let go
of the door he'd been tightly clutching to throw an arm around the rock
star's shoulders.

      Where is my self-control? He wondered. He was obviously not a
disciplined person where Leo Malone was concerned. He realized that things
were spiraling out of control when Leo's hands came down to grip his hips
tightly and pressed Shane against him. He felt how hard Leo was, and knew
he was just as hard. He noticed that his hands seemed to be moving on their
own volition, parting Leo's jacket and creeping slowly underneath his shirt
and up his back.

      Leo's hands slipped down to grab his ass, squeezing him firmly then
lifting him till he was standing on tiptoes and their cocks were perfectly
aligned against each other. He grabbed a fistful of Leo's hair, allowing
himself to be rubbed up and down on the other man's hardness and it was
only when he started considering how to wrap his legs against Leo's waist
so that they could get off quicker that he came back to his senses.

      He pulled his hands away from where they were gripping Leo's hair and
skimming the warm skin on his back. His breath was coming out in short
pants. "I think you should go. We shouldn't have done that."

      Leo ran his hand worriedly through his hair. "You want me to leave?
After that...? You want me to just walk away from you?"

      Shane bit down on his wet lip and said half-heartedly, "You should
go."

      Leo reached out for him again, "Shane...?"

      "No... I said you, you should leave now," he repeated with more
resolve then stepped back quickly into his apartment and shut the door. He
leaned against it and put his face in his hands.

      Jasmine was reclining on the couch, watching him steadily.

      "I did the right thing, Jas?" he asked.

      She blinked then put her head down on her paws.

      He sighed audibly. "Who am I kidding?" With that, he turned around
quickly to open the door.

      Leo was still there, his face lighting up with a smile. "I hoped
you'd change your mind."

      Shane grabbed the front of his T-shirt and pulled him in. "Shut up
and kiss me."