Disclaimer : This is a work of fiction and does not imply anything about anyone, real or imagined.

Chapter 6

Zac heard a slight shuffle to his right and breathed in deeply. He realised he was waking up but he still felt too lazy to open his eyes. It was Saturday morning and he was in no mood to face his small trailer so early in the morning. A strong aroma of coffee filled his nose and he frowned, unable to link the smell to his daily life. Suddenly he realized where he was and the corner of his mouth twitched. He knew he was in Tristan's apartment, but he couldn't face opening his eyes in case it had all been a dream. Every sense in his body suddenly seemed to accentuate. He could feel how warm his legs were resting on the soft bed under the comfortable sheets, and he could feel the crisp morning air running over his shirtless upper body licking his skin. He felt so at peace his breathing started to slow. With a deliberate deep sigh he opened his eyes, and flinched as they adjusted to the light.

Zac looked to the right, and smiled. Tristan was crouching next to the bed fiddling with a tray that seemed to have coffee, cups, sugar and milk on it. He was pouring milk into the coffee.

"One sugar please," Zac mumbled, his voice still gruff and cracking like it was every morning.

A smile formed over Tristan's face as he put the milk down and slowly turned to look at Zac in the eyes. He felt his heart jump as their eyes made contact. It was almost painful, as if a great weight was sitting on his chest when he looked at Tristan that made it hard to breathe. Tristan stroked his cheek with his hand and Zac was amazed at how warm his hands were.

"Morning Zac," Tristan said, and his voice was heated with admiration. "Sorry if I woke you."

"It was nice to be woken like that," Zac said. It was nice... so nice. He couldn't wait for the next time.

Tristan put one sugar into Zac's coffee and stirred it, placed it next to his bed on the table and then took his own coffee and ran round to his side of the bed. He placed his own coffee down and then jumped into bed next to him and pulled the sheet up. Tristan immediately warmed up to him, pulling him into a tight embrace with a light kiss on the lips. Tristan's eyes were closed, and he frowned almost as if he was in pain. He leaned his head forward and rested it on his own. His breathing was heavy. Zac couldn't help but smile.

"See something you like?" Zac said with a wry smile.

Tristan squeezed him hard and Zac felt his ribs creak. "Waking up next to you was the best day of my life."

Zac's face became serious, but his heart smashed against his chest. Last night he'd asked Tristan to kiss him, and for a wonder he didn't hesitate. Seconds later Zac found Tristan's hand behind the back of his head pulling him in. He'd felt afraid and realized that the request had been his own doing. He'd never even kissed another guy before, let alone sleep with one, but that was information he wouldn't easily volunteer to Tristan. It was embarrassing to be a virgin, well a gay virgin, at his age. If Tristan realized he was dealing with an amateur he might lose interest.

The kiss last night had been the hottest thing he'd ever experienced. Every other sexual experience he'd ever had in his short life paled beside it. He'd closed his eyes, and felt as Tristan's lips met his. They were so soft and warm, but the energy in his body surged as if the weather all over the world had broken into hurricanes and volcanic explosions at the same time. He'd literally felt dizzy from the encounter. Even now he was tempted to touch his lips, not sure what he would find. He couldn't believe that something so potent wouldn't leave a mark. The energy between them had been like lightning. He'd loved Tristan's power as he'd pulled his head towards him; he'd loved how Tristan's stubble had scratched his lips, and how his tongue's enthusiasm had made it clear how Tristan felt about him. He wanted to kiss him again and again, and more. He wanted to have sex with Tristan so badly. It frustrated him that Tristan was delaying sex. He understood why, but it was still enough to make him grind his teeth when he thought about it. He was so horny around Tristan – it wasn't natural to deny the urge. If Tristan would just agree, he would be happy. No, he thought to himself angrily. Respecting Tristan's wishes was more important than anything, and he knew it was only a matter of time before they could get naked with each other. Maybe he was being a stupid horny little boy, but he didn't care. Hormones were a part of how he was made, and Tristan sent his through the roof. Until Tristan agreed to have his way with him relentlessly, he wouldn't stop thinking about it. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't. His dick was hard for half the day or more because of Tristan, and no amount of self-service was discouraging it. He thought about some of the ideas he had that he and Tristan could do – all the positions, techniques... everything. He wanted to try everything a hundred times, and then start again. He nearly smiled when he thought about what he wanted to do to Tristan, but he knew Tristan would notice and ask him questions. He kept his emotions buried deeply, but it wasn't easy.

He sensed Tristan's presence next to him, and opened his eyes to see him resting on his elbow looking at him with a smile. He was so close that Zac could see every perfection and imperfection on his face.

"You are so hot," he said before he could stop himself. A lot of what he said to Tristan passed around all his mental filters. It was if his subconscious was shouting to be released. He could almost feel it battering at the walls of his mind.

Tristan chuckled to himself, and leaned in to kiss him. It was a brief kiss but Zac could feel that electricity again. He wondered how Tristan would take it if he requested that they make out for hours. He wanted to do it until his lips were raw. Instead he lay on his back without moving a muscle, but he continued to look into Tristan's eyes. They were so amazing to stare into, and as green as if crystals had been placed in his eyes and were throwing back glinted light. His smile was his best feature, though, and that was saying a lot considering every part of him screamed sex. Tristan needed a shave, but the dark blond stubble was incredibly hot too. Tristan's chest was well developed and bare, or shaved, he didn't know yet. His stomach was flat and defined and his abs bounced to attention if he coughed or laughed. A dark treasure trail started below his navel and led to the ultimate destination. He envied the treasure trail that. What an apt name. He hated the fact that something else could see what he wanted to.

"You've got a great body, Zac," Tristan said.

Zac smiled. "Funny, I was thinking the same thing."

"Yeah, you vain actors. I should have suspected as much," Tristan said with a serious face.

Zac frowned before he realized his error. "I meant I was thinking the same about you, fool," he replied and tapped Tristan's forehead as if he was being deliberately dense.

Tristan laughed and started tracing his finger over his chest. Zac sighed. He couldn't believe a single finger could feel so good. His breathing was deep and laboured and he groaned involuntarily. Tristan's finger moved down the groove between his abs, toyed with his navel and then started pulling softly at his treasure trail. His dick was so hard he could have lifted a car with it. If Tristan would just go lower. He wished that Tristan's hand would dive into his boxers with reckless abandon. To his disappointment, Tristan's hand started coming up again.

"Spoil sport," he said with a dismayed sigh.

Tristan laughed loudly. "True, I am, but can you imagine how great it will be one day when my hand really does go there."

"I'll be an old man," he said dejectedly. He smiled weakly, but was surprised how truly disappointed he was feeling. He wondered if jumping on to Tristan now and forcing him down would work. Probably not. Tristan was a very strong guy. He wouldn't have the upper hand for long unless he allowed it, and he doubted he would.

"Drama doesn't suit you, Zac, despite all evidence to the contrary," Tristan said with a rueful smile.

"Huh," Zac said irritably.

"Look at this," Tristan said with curiosity. "You're starting to get some chest hair." He could feel Tristan's hand running over his chest.

Zac couldn't help but smile inside. "Didn't your mother tell you that's what happens when boys grow up?"

Tristan chuckled. "I'm just surprised that's all. I don't have those genes. Thank goodness."

Question answered. "Don't you like it?" he asked, genuinely concerned. The thought of a razor suddenly blinded his vision. He'd do anything for Tristan.

"Hell yes, I like it," Tristan said. "I like you the way you are. Don't change yourself for me ever. Don't get me wrong...you have the body of some god, and you are so hot it's like a hammer blow to my head, but your personality is so much more attractive."

"Thanks boy," Zac replied. His heart felt warm again. A comfortable silence stretched.

"You know, Zac, you're way too concerned with what's going on in your pants. Much too closed minded if you ask me."

Tristan said it with a smile, but Zac didn't know if he should take offence or not. He frowned at Tristan.

"What do you mean?"

He watched as Tristan moved his hand and lightly scratched his nipple. A wave of intense pleasure ran through him and he groaned with closed eyes.

"Yeah I thought as much," Tristan said with a knowing smile.

"What the fuck is in your fingers?" he asked Tristan. He just laughed in reply. "Do it again." He put his hands behind his head expectantly.

Tristan cocked his head to one side as if deciding, and then leaned in and started licking Zac's nipple. He started to kiss it softly, suck it lightly, and even nibble it gently. Tristan teased his other nipple with his left hand. Zac wanted to shout with pleasure. He was groaning loudly. It was like a nexus of nerves was running between his nipples and his mind. He didn't even know that he had a predisposition to such a manoeuvre.

"Tristan... so good..." was all he could mumble. Speech was close to impossible. He thought his dick was going to rip through his boxer-briefs at any moment. Tristan was so skilled with his hands and mouth it was almost unbelievable.

He wondered how long he could last before he died, or before Tristan stopped. His heart was racing and he could feel the cool wind touch his body which was covered with sweat. His question was answered a moment later. A pressure built up in his pelvis. It wasn't subtle, and arrived with a sudden deep pressing feeling. He wasn't expecting it at all, and would have been shocked if his mind could think clearly.

"Holy shit!" he shouted, almost as loudly as he could. Tristan's mouth was instantly on his, and his tongue roared through his mouth aggressively. He could feel Tristan's hands playing with his nipples. Tristan breathed his hot breath into his mouth. Zac couldn't hold it anymore and started to shoot in his boxers. Every muscle in his pelvis contracted to the point of pain, as rhythmic waves spread through his body. He could feel the warmth of the load collecting at the base of his dick as it ran down it. It seemed to never stop. He broke contact with Tristan and started to groan. He needed air. He breathed heavily and groaned loudly as he continued to shoot. He started to kiss Tristan again and murmur into his mouth. It was too much. He settled his head back on the pillow and groaned one last time deeply and for a long time. One last blast from his dick and it also seemed to give up. He felt as if he'd shot his heart through his chest, as if his whole body had become a weapon and was now utterly spent. Tristan leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips and smiled.

"I know you're preoccupied with the sex thing," Tristan said smugly, "but I've got a whole bag of tricks before we reach that point. When I rip your boxers off one day you'll see that what I just did to you now will feel as unimpressive as a snowflake in winter."

Zac wanted to reply but he was still breathing heavily. Instead he nodded with an exhausted smile. His hair was stuck to his head. He was soaked with perspiration, and he felt like he was swimming in his boxers. He was sure he'd never had such a huge orgasm. His body had shouted out at one point, emptying its self of everything it had. His muscles were warm but tired, and he had a dull pain in his pelvis.

"Fuck," he muttered.

Tristan laughed out loudly and reached over to the other side of the bed and started to drink his coffee. He thought about doing the same but was sure he'd drop the cup. He wanted Tristan to ravage him again. He shook his mind free of sex with effort and sat up and started to drink his coffee. His breathing had settled marginally. The coffee was so good, or maybe that moment would have made anything taste good.

He put his cup down and gave Tristan a tight hug. "I like you so much."

"Me too," Tristan said while rubbing his back.

"I need to shower," Zac said.

"I'll bet," Tristan said looking down at his boxer-briefs. His hard on was gone but the wetness was clearly visible through the black fabric. He blushed involuntarily. Without further delay he climbed off the bed and stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. He didn't want Tristan to see him naked until they had sex, and to be honest, he was shy about his body. He hated being naked around other people and would avoid it at all costs. Something told him that he wasn't good looking or fit enough, and he felt that all too familiar feeling that he wasn't good enough for Tristan and never would be. He shook his head angrily. That was usually how he got rid of those feelings of inadequacy, but he knew they'd be back late at night while he was alone and brooding. Tristan was good looking and charming, and educated, and kind and he was none of those things in great measure. With a frustrated sigh he shook his head for the second time. It was particularly bad today. With a sigh he started to take his clothes off. He turned the shower on and waited for the water to get warm. As he climbed in and felt the water running over his body, he realized how wonderful Tristan was. He had landed the perfect guy. Despite his happiness he felt sadness flood over him. He couldn't explain it, but he felt vulnerable and alone. He leaned his head forward and rested it against the wall of the shower. He needed to pull himself together.

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Tristan sat down at the table opposite Zac. After spending the whole morning fooling around in the house, they'd decided to go out for lunch. Tristan was not oblivious to the fact that he faced two major problems when planning something as simple as lunch. Firstly, he was dating a major celebrity and he found this highly inconvenient. It was the reason they'd met of course, but he wished that Zac had just been a normal guy and that they could spend their free time together without interference. He'd obviously never voice that opinion to Zac – for all he knew his career was everything to him. Secondly, Zac was afraid of crowds and that made it difficult to find a place to have lunch. Luckily they'd settled on a place that Zac new well – Rotesserie. Apart from not feeling the need to do so, he didn't challenge the choice of restaurant. Zac's phobia of crowds seemed so disabling that he was sure that Zac had a list of eating venues that had passed the test. Tristan parked his car and they entered the restaurant.

"Good day, gentlemen. Would you like to sit inside or outside?" a pretty woman asked them.

"Inside," he replied reflexively. It was obvious.

"Outside," Zac said, and Tristan turned to him in surprise. "If you don't mind," Zac asked him.

"Not at all," he said.

They were escorted over to an outside area that was adjacent to the street but still fenced in with a neat iron palisade. The street was quiet and pedestrians were few. Tristan saw why Zac liked this place. The tables were set far apart. It was unlikely you'd be able to hear the conversation next to you. They were given menus which were extensive. Tristan found himself lost in what looked like a selection of some of the best food he'd ever seen, if descriptions could be trusted.

"Jeez, what an awesome menu," he said.

"I also have a bag of tricks," Zac said with a smile, and Tristan smiled to himself without looking up.

Zac decided on eating a pasta dish that sounded delicious, whereas he chose sole. He hadn't eaten fish for a long time and it sounded great the way they were preparing it. They chose a bottle of red wine to share.

"Why did you want to sit outside? Don't those press guys take pictures of you?" he asked.

"Yeah," Zac said looking around. "If I let them take a few of me now they'll leave me alone. If I hide inside they wait until I come out, and there are usually ten times more. And they attract crowds because people want to see what the fuss is about."

"Shit," Tristan murmured.

"What?"

"It's like a science," he said with distaste. "Aren't you worried about being seen with me?"

"Not at all," Zac said with a wide smile that had laughter all over it. "You're just a friend I'm having lunch with, and even if they dig deeper they'll find that you're my boss, or owner. I don't even care if they find out the real truth. I feel like shouting it from the rooftops."

Tristan sighed and looked at Zac with coy amusement. "You really don't think straight around me, do you? Never mind, I'm like that around you too. Maybe we should tell each other when we're acting like asses."

Zac laughed. "Deal."

"I don't want you to be reckless because of me, Zac. The press bay for blood and they'll burn you at the stake if they find out about us. I don't want to be responsible for that. We need to be careful." Tristan could hardly believe that HE was the one who was making this speech. It should logically be the other way around.

Zac shook his head dismally and looked at a cameraman on the other side of the road with anger. "I guess I'm just tired of hiding, Tristan. You can't imagine what it's like. They want to know everything and they respect nothing. Add to that my lies about my personal life and you can imagine how pissed I am half the time."

"Shame Zac," he said, suddenly feeling the need to reassure Zac. "Well I'm here for you, whatever happens."

"I know," Zac said, suddenly snapping out of it and smiling again. Their wine arrived and Zac took a swig directly out of the bottle.

"I'm dating a savage," Tristan said with mock disapproval.

"I'll put a loincloth on for you," Zac said while wiping some wine off his chin. He started to pour them some wine.

"Rather just walk around naked," Tristan said. If Zac wanted to play the one-up game, he was in for a nasty surprise.

Zac's eyes widened and he nearly spilled the wine. "Deal," he said under his breath. He didn't think he was meant to hear that.

"Zac I have lots of questions for you, and I think you have the same for me. Should we get them out of the way?" It was difficult bringing up the topic and the last thing he wanted to do was taint a happy lunch.

"Please," Zac said with repeated nodding of his head. "We need to clear things up, and I've been bursting to ask you some things."

"Ask away," Tristan said with open hands. He sat back waiting for the onslaught.

"Uh... how much money do you have?" Zac asked with a frown on his face.

Tristan's eyes widened in shock. It was the last question in the world he'd expected. "Why do you want to know that?"

"Sorry Tristan, it's just an idol curiosity and I've heard so many stories and I can't reconcile them with the way you seem to live. I'll ask another question if you're offended."

"No, I don't care," he said. "I'm just really surprised that the question was high up on your list."

"So what's it... a hundred million dollars?" Zac said with a wicked smile.

Tristan played with a salt shaker. "About seven times that actually."

"Fucking hell. And you live so modestly."

"I'm really privileged to be rich Zac, and you are too I guess. It's just that I found that money couldn't buy me what I have with you. Not that I tried, you understand. It's just that if I'd bought a massive house to live in, it still would have been me sitting in it alone. My real fortune is you. We're in early days still but you're worth the most to me."

"I like you a lot too, Tristan. Thanks for answering." He had the feeling that Zac wanted to reach out and squeeze his hand, but his hand faltered and he shifted it and drank some wine.

"When did you know you were gay?" Tristan asked.

Zac frowned and looked at the street, perhaps wondering if anyone had heard the question, which would be impossible of course.

"When I was eighteen I knew, but maybe before that. I had to hide it and I'm still hiding it."

"Have you never told anyone?"

"Just one person"

"An ex of yours?"

"Fuck no," Zac said angrily and his fist tightened subconsciously.

"Who then?"

"Jason."

"Your agent? He seems like such a nice guy."

Zac turned to look at him angrily, but a moment later his eyes softened. His lip trembled. "He's really charming, Tristan, but he's been the cause of our problems."

"What do you mean?" Tristan said with confusion.

Zac then told him the whole story, about how he'd told him about him being gay, and his endless threats and manipulations, culminating in the assault of the other evening.

"I'll kill him," Tristan said when Zac finally finished. He was almost beside himself with rage. He'd rip the guy's head off. Kicking and strangling Zac? The guy was dead meat.

"No please," Zac said pleadingly. "Tristan you mustn't. It will just cause trouble and I don't feel like any more of that."

"But Zac we can take this guy," Tristan said with anger and confusion. Why was Zac holding back?

"Please Tristan, if you love me you won't bring this up again. I promise I'll tell you if he tries to hurt me again, but please don't go looking for him. Let's just fly under the radar for now. Please."

Tristan sighed and shook his head angrily. "Okay," he said, against his better judgment. "If it's what you want I'll do it for you. Don't expect me to be friendly, though."

"Okay," Zac said with a smile.

Tristan was about to indulge himself with another threat towards Jason, but he heard his phone ring and answered. "Hello?" he said more aggressively than he should have.

It was Jen. Naturally she hadn't appreciated being greeted like that so he apologized hastily. When he told her what he was doing she immediately asked if she could join them. He asked Zac who made a friendly shrug as a reply, and he explained to her how to get there.

"I hope you don't mind," he said.

"Nah, she's cool," Zac replied.

Tristan smiled despite himself.

"What?" Zac asked with a quizzical smile on his face, eager to be in on the joke.

"She's told me that you might like me but I didn't believe her. The best part was how you ignored her good looks."

"So?" Zac said confused.

"She's a seriously hot woman, Zac. Any guy who passes her over without a second look is bound to be gay."

He started to laugh.

"I guess so," Zac said with a blush.

Ten minutes later they were eating their food. His fish was the best he'd ever eaten. He never knew food could taste so good, and Zac seemed to derive the same pleasure from his meal. They sat and chatted about various things, and he remembered thinking at one point about how happy he was to be sitting next to a guy who's every word he clung to. It was as if nothing Zac said could ever be boring. He eagerly soaked up the information, trying to build a database that consisted of Zac – what he liked, disliked, loved, hated, wanted, didn't want. It seemed like a library if he thought about it, but it was a hobby that filled him with happiness. He sensed that Zac was the same, but he was too embarrassed to think of himself in such a way. Almost an hour later, Jen arrived, and on reflex he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise almost as if someone had invaded his territory. He shook off the feeling and stood to give her a kiss and a hug. Zac looked embarrassed and stood and scratched his head. She took the decision away from him and hugged him warmly.

"So how's the happy couple doing?" she said nonchalantly.

Zac turned so red he looked like he was about to faint, and he expected that he more than half-fell back into his chair. He felt a little uneasy about it himself. Their relationship was a day old and it was odd to hear it broadcast so formally.

"Ignore Jen," he told Zac in an attempt to break the ice. "She has no tact. I don't know why I'm friends with her."

She play slapped his shoulder and put her bag down. She was extremely well dressed, and even in this quiet restaurant she seemed to draw the occasional eye with her exceptional beauty.

"You're friends with me because I say things like they are. Sorry if I embarrassed you, Zac, honey."

"It's okay," Zac said with an unsure smile and ate some pasta. He was still blushing and Tristan drank some wine to cover a smile that was creeping up on him. "I'm just not used to some terms... with a guy. I'll get used to it."

"Seriously Jen, take it easy. He's new to this. If you frighten him off I'll beat you with a stick."

Zac laughed and even she smiled. "Okay okay... I meant it innocently. I'll think before I speak in the future. Is that okay with you, master?"

"It is wench," he replied, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

Naturally Jen was not interested in eating anything. As a person who ate more than one cookie per day, Jen was the scandal of the fashion industry that ate on average no more than a pea for a meal. Still, the effect of her skeletal co-workers had made her cut back, and she was no longer the ravenous pig he'd enjoyed spending time with. She ordered herself a fruit juice and made herself at home.

"I can see why he likes you," she said to Zac. He blushed again and drank a large gulp of wine. He was finding the scrutiny a little hard to endure.

"Like is an understatement," he said, trying to deflect Zac's attention. It worked. He looked into Tristan's eyes and winked with admiration. Flames ran under his skin. A kiss was in order, but later... yes, later.

"He's the best you've ever introduced me to," she said, and Tristan found himself feeling uneasy.

"There were others?" Zac said abruptly. His fork was frozen in place.

"It may surprise you to know that I haven't been single my whole life, Zac," he said wryly and Zac lowered his eyes with embarrassment. Tristan could sense his unanswered question.

"You're number three, Zac. The other two were nice guys, but nothing like you. Hell, not even close to you."

"I can vouch for that," Jen said with a warm smile for Zac. He seemed to recover some of his confidence.

They sat for another two hours chatting over lunch, and finally decided to pay the bill when they realized that it was 4pm, and calling it `lunch' was stretching it. Zac demanded to cover it, and Tristan decided to stop protesting after Zac shot him a look of horrific malice. It seemed like certain things irritated Zac and this was one instance. Jen gave them each a hug and disappeared off into the sunset. Her date had fallen through, but he'd promised to meet her for lunch the next day. It sounded like he was planning a staged `I'm not interested' ploy that would culminate in several ignored texts and calls, and a devastated woman on one side and chicken shit guy on the other. He sighed even before he realized how upset she would be. He and Zac walked to the car and started to drive home.

"She's nice," Zac said with a wide smile. He smile was like lightning. It could burn paint off walls.

"Yeah, she's always been my most loyal and trusting friend. I'll tell you about our bust up we had a few years ago. You'll enjoy that."

"Okay," Zac said with a smile. "I like spending time with you."

Without delay Zac put his hand on Tristan's leg and warmly squeezed it. Tristan was so shocked it was a wonder he didn't roll the car. It felt so good he couldn't believe it. It was such a simple gesture, but Zac's hand on his leg made him the happiest guy in the world.

"How's your week looking?" he asked.

"Great," Zac said. "We're only shooting again on Thursday, and only in the evening. So that leaves us almost six days to do whatever you'd like to do."

"Hmm... want to go to Paris?"

Zac's eyes widened and he smiled. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, let's go," he replied with inviting eyes.

"Okay!" Zac said, and clapped his hands once loudly before roughing up Tristan's hair.

"Easy, boy," Tristan said with a laugh.

`I am SO excited. I can't think of a better place to spend some off time with you, Tris. You just made my day."

"You made mine when you looked at me this morning," he replied.

He parked his car under the building where he lived. He was about to open his door when Zac grabbed his head and pulled him round and kissed him deeply. Zac was seriously aroused. His breath was hot and he groaned as he breathed heavily into Tristan's mouth. After a while Zac pulled back and rested his head forward against Tristan's face. He could smell Zac's hair. It was clean and sexy, and just about everything that described Zac.

"I love you, Tristan," he heard Zac murmur softly.

Tristan pulled back and looked at Zac with open shock on his face. He could hardly believe what he'd heard. Zac seemed to interpret the statement badly and panic started to form on his face. Tristan could see a speech filled with regret forming on his lips. He had to stop this immediately.

"Sorry, Zac, that just took me by surprise."

"Tristan, I'm so sorry. It just jumped out. Please, I..."

"Zac, shut up. I love you too, you goofball," he said as slow realization spread across Zac's face.

They embraced tightly. "I love you so much," Tristan repeated. "Fuck me, it's like an inferno in my heart. I feel like I've finally found the one I was meant to be with forever."

"I know what you mean," Zac whispered into his ear. "Tristan," he murmured and kissed his ear.

"Zac," he said. He loved the name. He loved it so much.

"Let's go pack," Zac said eventually. They climbed out the car.

"Yeah, but first we're going to make out properly. And I don't mean for two minutes either."

He smiled, but to his surprise Zac suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the elevator at a run. He laughed. Nothing could ruin this. Nothing.

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Thanks again for reading, guys. I'm so appreciative to anyone who took the time to send me an e-mail. Your correspondence is valued and it definitely provides inspiration to write. Keep sending the commentary – good and bad. rahvin747@yahoo.com