Elliot Smith - 01 - His Name Is John by Dorien Grey

Author:Dorien Grey [Grey, Dorien]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9 They emerged from the restaurant to find the streets and sidewalks glistening with reflections of streetlights, headlights and neon signs on the glimmer from a recent downpour. He grinned at Steve and nudged him with the back of his hand.

"So much for cloud reading," he said. Steve shrugged. "So, maybe Illinois clouds are different from California clouds. Besides, the rain's stopped, so I was right—we didn't have to worry about it."

Heading for the subway, Elliott said, "It's still early. What do you feel like doing?"

Steve gave him a suggestive smile. "How about you?"

Elliott could recognize a double entendre when he heard one, but he deliberately sidestepped it.

"I was figuring maybe we could go over to my place and watch a video."

"PG or X?"

"Your choice."

Steve grinned again. "Did I mention that pizza has the same effect on me as art?"

"Ah, so that's what turned you on the night you came over to my place."

"Well, hardly, but it didn't hurt."

Elliott returned the grin. "I'm beginning to suspect the phone book would do the same."

Steve sighed. "Well, I am partial to the Yellow Pages."

"So, I guess I'd better start going back to my SA meetings?"

"SA?"

"Sexaholics Anonymous—though that always strikes me as being redundant."

They descended into the subway and headed for Elliott's condo.

* * * *

He woke before Steve, who lay with one arm across Elliott's chest. Rather than make a move that might wake him, Elliott watched him sleep—his hair tousled, mouth partly open, breathing quietly. The movement of his eyes beneath the lids indicated they were following the action of a dream. Once again he was fascinated by the coffee-with-cream color of Steve's flawless skin.

He'd heard nothing from John the entire night, which he chalked up to John's discretion, although he sensed a subtle underlying something akin to a mental aftertaste he couldn't define—disappointment? sadness? resignation? He certainly felt none of these things. Quite the contrary, as he watched Steve sleeping beside him, he was downright content.

Lost in his thoughts, he grew aware Steve was awake and watching him.

"Morning," Steve said, moving his arm to wipe the sleep out of his eyes.

"Good morning. Sleep okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Always."

Elliott grinned. "We should have pizza more often." Steve returned the grin. "Don't say I didn't warn you." "Hardly what I'd consider a warning."

Throwing back the sheets, Steve sat up and swung his legs off the bed. "If you'll excuse me for a second, the bathroom calls."

Echoing the movement on his side of the bed, Elliott said, "I'll put the coffee on while you're gone." Not bothering to put on a robe, he padded into the kitchen.

* * * *

They had toast and coffee on the balcony, Steve in one of Elliott's robes and Elliott in a pair of sweats and a T-shirt.

"God, I envy you this," Steve said, indicating the view with a slight gesture of his coffee cup.

"I'd trade it for your talent," Elliott replied, only halfjoking.

They were quiet a moment. Then Steve said, "I had a dream last night about Hill and that asshole lover of his.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.