---... Passion, desire so intense... I can't take anymore because

I feel the magic all around you
It's bringin' me to my knees
Like a wannabe
I've got to be chained to you

And when you looked into my eyes, felt a sudden sense of urgency
Fascination cast a spell and you became more than just a mystery
And I think about you all the time.
Is this fate, is it my destiny
That I think about you all the time?
I no longer pretend to have my hands on the wheel because... ---

-----

April 2002

Slumped in a metal folding chair that he had deliberately pushed deep into a shadowed corner, Tim McGee watched various people at the party laugh, greet each other excitedly and slip easily into and out of small conversational groups. Their actions only reinforced to him that he was the only unknown quantity in the room and therefore he was seemingly beneath notice. The thought, not his first negative one of the night, dropped his dark mood another notch toward rock bottom and he swirled the ice in his plastic cup irately.

It had taken him eight months to accept another invitation from a friend; months in which his last night out refused to leave his mind. If truth were told, it was the man he'd met that evening who truly haunted him. The memory had been intense and distracting in the days just after the meeting, but over the weeks he'd gotten good at pushing it to the back burner. Despite his resolve, however, he still occasionally slipped into a daydream, recalling the feel of a strong pair of arms around him, swaying him slowly back and forth to a classic Eighties ballad.

This time it was a cold, damp spring that oppressed him instead of August heat, but the situation felt much the same. Here he was again, alone in a crowd, sipping, sighing and wishing he were anywhere else. Just as he was sitting forward, preparing to rise and go home, where at least his computer would provide some company, a voice spoke above him and Tim's gaze shot up and to the right, hardly daring to believe what he thought he'd heard.

"Don't go yet."

"Anthony?! What are you doing here? I never thought I'd... I mean..."

"It's okay. I'm glad to see you, too. As for the why, I'm a friend of a friend of the hostess. You know how it goes."

"Yeah... I do."

"You, now... you're playing 'looking for love in all the wrong places ' again"

"I'm not! Okay, I am, but... you don't understand. This is the first time I've gone out since that night at the club. I thought maybe a party would be better..." he responded dejectedly.

"But when you don't know anybody it's just... lonely." Anthony said, completing the thought.

"And boring. I'm not even sure the guy who invited me ever showed up."

Anthony snorted and his face showed his slight disgust at what he considered a practice unworthy of a real friend.

"I've had that happen. It's worse than being set up on a surprise blind date. They figure if they can trick or tease you into going to the bar or party or whatever, they've done their good deed for the week and it earns them the right to stay home and watch ESPN."

Tim's face darkened.

"He never intended to come. I can't believe him!"

"Sorry. Hey, you did say you hadn't been out in eight months. I'm sure he thought he was doing you a favor."

"Some favor." Tim grunted as he laid his cup on the floor and rose to his feet. "Listen, I'm really glad we met again. I hate to leave you in the lurch, but I'm going home. I have a phone call to make to a *former* friend..."

"Hang on..."

Anthony grasped Tim's hand gently and held him back. The younger man repressed a gasp, as the simple contact felt like a freshly lit sparkler laid against the bare skin of his wrist. Anthony's eyes widened slightly, as if he felt the strange sensation too, but his smile made it obvious he wasn't disturbed by it. "Wow..."

"Uh... yeah. That's a good word." Tim responded. Some prim and proper part of his brain was screaming that he needed to pull away and run fast and far, but it was quickly shouted down by the rest of his mind as well as his body. "Wh... what did you want to say?"

"Say? Oh... I wanted to ask you why you're really here. You seem *way* too smart to make the same mistake twice."

Tim flushed brightly and reluctantly extricated himself from Anthony's grip, after which he half turned away from the other man to hide the evidence of his embarrassment.

"I had to do something." He mumbled. "It was this or a monastery."

"Ah. So it's been a while?"

"Umm... you could say that. Twenty-five years to be exact."

Tony smiled at Tim and took a step forward, closing the small gap between them.

"Back at the club... I wondered, but I wasn't about to bring it up. It would've been beyond crude."

"How... I mean, I know I'm not James Bond, but I thought I kept my secrets better than that."

"Our bodies tell tales on all of us, Tim, as much as we wish they wouldn't. When I held you, it was like you were tasting some new dish for the first time. You took just a little bite, afraid you wouldn't like it, but once you decided you did... trust me, the last thing I wanted to do is walk away."

Tim looked at Anthony shyly.

"Then why did you?"

"You had no idea what came next and wouldn't have been ready for it even if you had."

"What? All we did was dance for like... two minutes."

"No. What we did was press our bodies together... and move in rhythm... so to stop myself from stripping you naked on a public dance floor, I had to leave."

Tim's blush deepened and he squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to rein in a developing erection and momentarily lost for a swift method of achieving control.

"Anthony! Why would you say something like that?!" Tim growled through his teeth. "You deliberately get me all... hot and bothered and I can't do anything about it 'till I get home!"

Anthony gazed solemnly at Tim, waiting patiently until the younger man met his intense, emerald eyes.

"You do look a little warm. Let's go outside for a few minutes... catch a breath of cooler air."

Anthony strolled calmly away. Tim watched him go, mild panic and confusion dominating his expression. The door had nearly closed before Tim made up his mind and started to follow. His steps quickening, afraid that it was a tease and Anthony was gone once again, Tim stepped over the threshold into darkness and an icy, soaking spring drizzle. Once his eyes adjusted, he discovered that the enigma slowly driving him crazy was standing under a tree in the middle of the lawn waiting for him. Brushing at the drops tracing down his cheeks, he ran for the relative shelter and leaned back against the bark, panting slightly.

"What are we doing out here?"

"You tell me."

""I don't understand."

"You need relief. I'm more than willing to give you that, but I'm not going anywhere near you unless you consent. Out loud."

"Relief... I've never... noone else has..."

"So you said earlier."

"I... what are you proposing... exactly?"

"If I tell you, it'll make it worse."

"I understand that. Just... I have to know before... anything happens."

Anthony swung out from his position beside Tim and turned to face the younger man. His hands were in his back pockets and the sober, thoughtful expression intensified.

"First, I'll slide your zipper down. Then I'll reach in and pull you free of your underwear... gently, of course. After that, I'll run one hand up and down your cock, making you harder than you ever thought you could be. I'll start slow and loose, giving you time to feel everything build. As you get close to orgasm, I'll tighten up my grip... and go faster and faster until you come all over my hand."

"Hell...you were right...it's worse... but it was so worth it. I need you to do just what you said... please..."

"I can see that, but do you want it? That's what matters."

"God, what's with all the questions? *You* want to, I can hear it in your voice..."

Anthony reached out and cupped Tim's face in one hand.

"I told you at the club that I felt for you... but I think I *fell* for you at the same time. You're sweet, trusting and uncomplicated.... and that drew me in. I won't be the one to kill that. I just need to know that in your eyes... I'm not one of the people I tried to save you from that night."

"Anthony... I'm not all that sure *what* you are otherwise... but somehow I know you wouldn't hurt me and it isn't taking advantage when I'm begging." Tim told him, laughing brokenly.

"Okay, okay... have a little patience. If I rush this first part, I *will* hurt you." the other man replied, a smile finally blossoming on his face. Gradually, Anthony began the process he had described so vividly a few moments before. Tim had a minute or two of coherence before his hardness was brought out and cradled in Anthony's warm, skilled hand, and then all thought, rational or otherwise, abandoned him. The other hand splayed over the side of Tim's head, stroking and lightly twisting the mist-drenched strands of hair as Anthony leaned forward, lightly pinning Tim against the tree.

"Ohhhh... holy mother of..."

"I know. Just hang in there. I'll try to make it last..."

"No... no hope of... that... I'm too close..."

"You think so. There are ways to stall... and fortunately I know every one." Anthony countered, squeezing at the base of Tim's cock for several seconds. "Better?"

"Not really... please let me... I need to..."

"Come."

"Yes... that. Faster... oh God, now!"

"Your wish, my command..."

Moments later, Tim's own hands clawed into the tree and every muscle in his body tensed as he achieved orgasm, pumping heated, tacky fluid over Anthony's hand and onto the grass at their feet. By the time Tim had recovered enough to walk, the rain had become heavier. Grinning, Anthony led his young lover out into the open and used the streaming water and a handkerchief to clean them both. He then tucked Tim back into his pants and zipped him up. In response to a breathless, stunned murmur of his name, Anthony whispered in Tim's ear, turned and strode to the car that was waiting for him at the curb.

"Anthony..."

"Uh-uh. Got that handle I was waiting on. Now... you can call me Tony."

When he realized he was once again alone, Tim stared around him, then ruefully gazed down at the stains dotting his shirt and the waistband of his jeans.

(I should wash these as soon as possible... On second thought, no. They may be the only proof I have that I wasn't hallucinating! If you're watching this poor idiot tonight, God... please don't let this have been a dream...)

Shaking his head to rid his hair of accumulated moisture, Tim headed for his own vehicle, musing that Mystery Tony now owed him for two abandoned drinks.

TBC...