Obsession - 1. Obsession

His movements were languid and smooth, as he posed like one born to the modeling profession. His golden hair shone in the midday sunlight, tousled by the breeze like an intent hairstylist. He had no formal training but didn’t need it. The upturn of his mouth, eye contact at just the right moment, sculpted body at just the right angle—he oozed sensuality with no effort on his part. I don’t think he had any idea of the effect he had on people. Passersby of both sexes frequently gave him a second look. He carried himself with a heady mixture of innocence and raw sexuality with the way he dressed in flattering and fashionable clothes and the way he interacted with others and the camera. It was intoxicating just to be in his presence.

The click of my camera was as regular as my pulse when I was around him. My heart stuttered in time with the shutter when he smiled directly into the lens and into my soul. We were meant to be together. I knew it just as surely as I drew breath. I snapped one last picture before straightening up and stretching my arms. I hoped he liked this latest batch, because he didn’t seem too thrilled with the last set.

I couldn’t wait to get to my computer and review the shots. I knew in my heart that they were some of my best work. I had to wait until the end of the day, though. I needed a regular job to pay the bills; my hobby didn’t make me enough to live off of. My dream had always been to make a living off my photographs, but apparently others didn’t share my eye for form and light. So I was relegated to taking family portraits at Sears. Hardly worthy of my talent, but it paid the bills. As an amateur, I had to be content with taking my real pictures, hoping to be discovered by a gallery or modeling agency.

I still regularly submitted my work to publications and resigned myself to expecting rejection when I opened the letters in response to my submissions. Sometimes, I was pleasantly surprised when one of my photos would be accepted for publication, but those were few and far between.

The next day we had lunch together–my beautiful friend and I. We ordered the same thing: grilled cheese with tomato basil soup. I enjoyed it all the more from seeing the look of enjoyment on his face. I imagined that same look as he writhed underneath me, moaning from the ministrations of my lips, hands, and hips. I had to shift my position in my chair, hoping that my reaction would subside before I needed to rise. We finished at the same time, paid for our meals separately, and then exited the restaurant to return to our jobs. Our time together was woefully short. It always was.

*****

I ran my hands through his golden hair to the back of his head, tracing my thumb along his cheek before leaning down and pressing my lips to his. His bright blue eyes glazed over with lust and looked at me in wonder. I deepened the kiss, asking for entrance to his mouth with my tongue, which he immediately granted. I moved my hands to his lower back, lifting the hem of his shirt enough to feel bare skin that quivered beneath my touch. My hands reached up his back underneath the cotton cloth, spread wide to maximize the feeling of his flesh. He pressed closer to me, and I shifted my hands to his hips, pulling him to me in one quick movement. Our desires pressed together, and I was overwhelmed by the need for more.

I walked backwards until his knees hit my bed, and he fell gently on his back with me on top of him. I palmed his erection, producing a long moan from him, which I captured with my mouth. We were both wearing too much clothing, so I sat up, eliciting a frown from the beautiful angel splayed before me. I took his hands in mine, pulling him to a seated position so I could divest him of his shirt. His body was a work of art. Greek sculptors would have had a hard time capturing the perfection that he embodied. I pushed him gently back down on the bed and quickly removed his jeans. He was bare underneath them; my angel wasn’t as pure as he pretended to be.

His manhood lay against his stomach, glistening, and beckoning me to it. Who was I to resist its siren call? The feel of his muscles tensing and contracting in response to the movement of my tongue and mouth made me realize I needed to get rid of my own clothing. It was a barrier I couldn’t tolerate any longer. I didn’t want to stop, and he didn’t want me to, based on the whimper he produced when my mouth left him wet and wanting.

I removed my clothing and resumed my worship, causing my lover to arch his back into me like a cat, fisting the sheets with both hands while he uttered noises only associated with ecstasy. I wanted to prolong his pleasure–and mine–for as long as possible, so as much as I didn’t want to, I moved from my prize to parts lower, using tongue and fingers to prepare him for our ultimate joining.

It didn’t take long before he was begging me to enter him. I was only too happy to oblige, closing my eyes and willing myself to luxuriate in the encompassing heat for as long as possible. If I moved too much, both our pleasures would be entirely too short-lived. After a minute of this exquisite torture, he nodded, thrusting his hips upward, urging me to complete what I’d started.

I began slowly, building my speed and rhythm as he writhed underneath me, moaning my name with glazed-over eyes. He matched my movements thrust for thrust until I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew I wouldn’t last long being inside his wonderful heat, and with one final thrust I left part of my soul inside of him as I collapsed on top of him. I was so spent I barely noticed when he let out a gasp and released between us.

His arms encircled me, drawing me even closer. I smiled and kissed him. The look of love on his face was so overwhelming it brought tears to my eyes. “I love you,” he whispered, running his hand down my face.

“I love you, too,” I said, burrowing my face in his neck.

My hand moved at a feverish pace before my entire body tensed in what felt like a convulsion. My toes curled, and my back arched up off the bed. My breath was held in my lungs until it released with a loud moan that straddled the line between pain and ecstasy. My sticky hand fell to my side as my body collapsed into a boneless puddle, chest heaving from my exertion, a satisfied smile plastered on my face. My favorite fantasy never failed to bring me to such heights of pleasure. I didn’t know how much longer that fantasy would sustain me, though. It was about time we made it a reality.

*****

Danny and I met two years ago when he and his partner came to my studio for a series of portraits. It was the first time I experienced the joy of seeing him through my camera lens. They were a beautiful couple. The light touches, close proximity, and fleeting glances they exchanged only added to his beauty. He stole coy looks at the camera, posing like a natural model. The light and sparkle in those bright blue eyes immediately made me fall in love with him. He shook my hand and thanked me for taking their pictures before they left, giving me a smile and a shock that passed through my body with the contact of his flesh on mine. I knew in that instant we were meant to be together.

Danny and Tristan were both very satisfied with their portraits and ordered several copies. I didn’t like the looks that Tristan gave me. He clung to my angel possessively, holding his hand and draping an arm over his shoulder as if trying to protect him. He couldn’t stop us from being together, though. It wasn’t long after that when Danny and I had our first photo shoot.

About a year after we met, Tristan was killed in an auto accident. The news reported that a drunk driver ran him off the road and into a tree. The photos of Danny’s grief are some of my best. It’s been a year now, since Tristan’s death. Danny hadn’t dated during that time, but he needed to move on. He’s had enough time to grieve.

*****

Danny and I met for drinks a week after we had lunch. After a few beers he was looking rather unsteady, so I brought him to my place. Waking up next to my angel was everything I thought it would be. He was still asleep, with a small line of drool running from the corner of his mouth. I wiped it away, and he stirred, frowning. He moaned and tried to bring his hand up to his head, but the restraints stopped him. His eyes opened, and he looked at me with an expression that looked suspiciously like fear. I ran my hand down the side of his face to reassure him. He flinched away from my touch.

“Who are you? Where the hell am I?” he asked, his voice trembling.

“You’re home now. You’re where you belong. Everything’s OK,” I said soothingly.

“My head hurts… What did you do to me?” He looked at me lying next to him and at the bed we were lying on and started shaking. “Oh my God…did you…did you…” He looked down and appeared relieved to see he was still clothed.

I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a bottle of water. I opened it and brought it to his lips. His mouth remained closed in a tight line, and he moved his head to the side.

“Drink. It will help with your headache.”

He looked at me skeptically. “Did you drug me?”

“You had a lot to drink last night.”

“I didn’t have that much. I only remember having three beers, then feeling really sick and drowsy. Why can’t I remember anything after that?”

I frowned. “Drink. Don’t worry about it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not thirsty.”

I let my breath out in a huff, frustrated by his lack of cooperation. “You will be. Now c’mon. You need to drink or else you’ll get dehydrated.”

“How do I know you aren’t going to drug me again?”

“The bottle was sealed before I opened it. I’m not going to drug you.”

He looked down again and swallowed before meeting my eyes. “Did you…rape me?” he whispered.

His question slammed into me like a freight train. Rape? My angel? How could he think that? “How could you even think that?” I asked in a tight voice. “I would never hurt you. When we make love, it will be the most incredible experience for both of us.” I ran my hand down his face and through his hair. His body tensed, and he closed his eyes.

“I…I…don’t want to.”

“You will. We’re meant to be together, Danny.” I held the bottle against his lips. “Drink.” He took a few sips of water, and I set the bottle back on the nightstand.

I rose from the bed and walked to the door. “You must be hungry. I made us some lunch.” I opened the door, then closed it behind me before heading into the kitchen to heat up the food I had prepared while waiting for my angel to wake up.

I placed the food on a tray, then headed back to Danny’s room. I opened the door, turning the lights on as my hip held the tray in place. Once the room was lit, I shut the door and placed the tray on the nightstand. Danny was sitting up on the bed as far as his restraints would allow, staring at the walls with his mouth open.

I smiled as I followed his gaze. “What do you think of my portfolio?”

“It’s you…you’re the one who’s been sending me all those photos,” he whispered.

“What did you think of my latest batch? I thought they were some of my best work,” I said.

“I…I…I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know you… Why did you take all these pictures of me?” His voice trembled when he spoke. His brows were knit into a frown, and his face was pale.

Disappointment flooded through me as I realized that Danny didn’t like his most recent pictures any better than the ones before that.

“I couldn’t help it. You’re so beautiful. I had to get to know you better. I wanted pictures of just you, without anyone else in them.”

“Without any…“ He frowned, then shook his head. “Oh my God…you’re that photographer. The one from Sears who took the pictures of Tristan and me.”

I nodded. “Yeah. That’s when we first met. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me that you remember.” I grabbed a folding tray from underneath the bed and unfolded it before placing it over Danny’s lap.

“Don’t bother. I’m not hungry,” he said.

“You have to eat. I made your favorite: beef stew with lots of potatoes and some crusty bread.”

He raised an eyebrow. “How do you know—wait, never mind. I don’t want to know.”

I placed the steaming bowl of stew on the tray, along with two slices of bread and a glass of water. I sat next to him. “Go ahead. I already ate while you were sleeping.”

“I can’t eat this.”

“Why not? It’s really good. You’ll love it.”

“How do I know you didn’t drug it or poison it or something?”

I frowned. “Why do you think I’d hurt you? I love you, Danny. I’d never hurt you. It hurts me that you’d even think that.”

He held up his shackled hands and motioned to the matching ankle adornments, looking at me evenly. “You drugged me and kidnapped me. I’m chained to your bed, and you have a room covered from top to bottom with pictures of me. I’m scared out of my mind right now, wondering what you’re going to do to me, and you’re wondering why I think you’re going to hurt me.”

I stared at him, realization washing over me in a wave of nausea. My Danny was afraid of me. I’d have to show him he could trust me. I grabbed the bowl of stew, causing my angel to flinch. “It’s not poisoned,” I said tersely, taking a bite.

“Oh God, I pissed you off, didn’t I?” he whispered. I ate a few more bites before setting the bowl down on the nightstand and removing the tray and the rest of its contents. He watched me fearfully the whole time.

“I’m not pissed. I just want you to see how much I care for you.”

“People don’t hold the people they love prisoners in chains.”

Anger flared through me at his words. I stood abruptly and opened the nightstand drawer. I grabbed a handful of photographs and threw them at him. “It’s good enough for some asshole you met for a one-night stand, but not for the man who loves you?”

He paled when he looked at the photos. “Um…that was…um…” His face turned bright red. “How? What? Oh my God, I can’t believe you were watching us!”

“You liked it just fine when you were rutting like animals with him.”

“It was his idea. I wanted to try something different, and… I can’t believe I’m talking about this with you. What I did in the privacy of my bedroom is none of your business!”

“It is my business!” I yelled. “If we’re going to be together, then you can’t behave like some whore in heat!”

He shrank back from me, eyes wide with terror. My anger threatened to overwhelm me, and I didn’t want Danny any more afraid of me than he already was, so I stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind me.

I went into my bathroom and took a bottle of Valium from the medicine cabinet. I popped two of them in my mouth and retreated to my living room, waiting for them to take effect. I knew I was being irrational. Danny didn’t know me when he fucked that guy. The truth was, the pictures were pretty hot, but I wanted it to be me inside of my beautiful friend, not that pig he picked up at a bar.

I felt much calmer after the Valium kicked in, so I headed back to Danny’s room. His body language changed the minute I entered the room. He angled away from me, as far as the restraints would allow, watching my movements warily. I decided that I needed to try and build trust between us. I removed a key from my nightstand drawer and moved to unlock Danny’s restraints. He flinched at my movement.

“Relax. I told you I won’t hurt you, and I meant it.” I unlocked his ankle restraints first, followed by the wrist restraints.

He rubbed his wrists and shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “Um…Can I…um…I really have to go to the bathroom.”

I walked to the door and opened it. “This way.”

He followed me slowly, watching me the entire time like a prey animal dancing around a predator. He stayed in the bathroom for a long time. I wasn’t worried about him trying to leave since I had nailed the window shut. Hercules could have probably escaped, but not my little angel. I was just about to knock and check on him when he emerged, looking decidedly more comfortable, even though his eyes still indicated distrust.

“If I’m going to be staying here, can I get a tour of the place?” he asked.

I stared at him for a moment before responding, trying to gauge his motives. He seemed genuinely interested, so I nodded. “This is the living room. There are just two bedrooms, plus the one bathroom. You’ve already seen your bedroom. I’ve been using it as my studio, as you can tell. Once you move into my–our–bedroom, then I’ll convert it into a studio we both can use. Just let me know what you need and I can order it.” I moved from the living room to the kitchen. “I know it’s kind of small, but I think it’ll be OK for the two of us. I know you’re not really into cooking, but I enjoy it, so I don’t mind cooking for us.”

Danny stood in the kitchen entrance, arms crossed, looking decidedly pale. I moved toward him, concerned, and he backed away. I stopped and frowned. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”

He shook his head, then nodded. “No…yeah…um…it’s nice…but I really like my apartment. Can I…um…can I go back there?” he finished in a whisper.

I ran my hand through my hair and exhaled sharply in frustration. “Now why would you want to do that? At some point we can go back there and get whatever you want, but for now I have everything you need here.”

He swallowed audibly and wiped his hands on his pants. “Yeah, OK, sure.”

“Well, that’s the tour. Time to go back to your room.”

He hesitated at first, but my tone of voice left him little choice, so he complied.

I had to work the next day, much to my disappointment. I had asked for the entire week off so I could spend time bonding with Danny, but my co-worker had already requested that day off, and one of us had to be at work. I was approved for the rest of the week, though, and I was looking forward to getting to know the beautiful man in my apartment better.

I felt a little apprehensive about leaving Danny alone in the apartment. I’d kept the restraints off ever since he told me he didn’t like them. I figured it would be a good way to establish some trust between us. I found his reaction to them confusing. He didn’t seem to mind being restrained when that whore was pounding him into his mattress. I had a lot to learn about my new partner, apparently.

I left him in his room with food for breakfast and lunch and a bucket for him to do his business. I felt bad about that, but I had to keep him locked in the room; I couldn’t risk him leaving.

The day dragged on interminably. Knowing that Danny was waiting for me at home made it bearable to photograph the contemptible bourgeois that made use of our services—like families posing to capture a moment in time when their lives had some semblance of synchronicity before the inevitable divorce. Then there were the pretenders. Already on their way to divorce, they struggle to portray the face of a loving family on their Christmas cards, or by displaying a large picture on the mantle before it being relegated to a box in the closet when the marriage collapsed. It made me happy to be gay. I didn’t have to deal with the sham of the nuclear family.

And now I had my beautiful Danny.

I stopped for take-out on the way home. Danny ate Chinese food every Monday, so I took a slight detour from my usual route home and ordered his favorites from the restaurant he typically got it from.

I received an odd look from my elderly landlady when I opened the door to my apartment complex. “You have a visitor, Hank?” she asked me.

I nodded, fear gripping my heart that my lovely Danny had found a way out of his room.

“Well, tell him to keep it down. All that banging was giving me a headache.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “How long is he staying?”

“I’m not sure, Gladys. I may be adding him to the lease. I’ll let you know next month.”

“I’m not so sure I want him on the lease if he’s going to be that noisy. My ears may not be as good as they used to be, but I certainly heard the racket he put up. I’m not impressed, young man.” She waggled a gnarled, arthritic finger at me.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll let him know.” I seethed inside. Danny was jeopardizing our future together. At least I was off the rest of the week and could ensure that he wouldn’t piss off my neighbors.

I walked up the stairs to my apartment and opened the door. It was silent inside. I placed the Chinese food on the kitchen counter and walked to Danny’s bedroom. I unlocked it and opened the door slowly. He was on the bed with his knees drawn up to his chest, arms around them. One of my photos dangled loosely from his hand.

He looked up when he heard me enter. The forlorn look on his tear-streaked face almost broke my heart. “You killed Tristan, didn’t you?” he asked in a quivering voice.

I shook my head. “No.”

“Liar!” he shouted. “If you didn’t kill him, how did you get this?” He threw the photograph in my direction.

I didn’t have to pick it up to know which photograph it was. It was the prelude to my ‘grief’ series.

“I’m not lying. I didn’t kill him. He died the minute he hit that tree.”

“Because you ran him off the road!” Danny’s face was bright red, and spittle flew from his mouth as he shouted. His cheeks glistened from the tears pouring down them.

“I won’t talk to you when you’re like this,” I said, walking to the door. I stood in the doorframe as Danny collapsed on the bed in a sobbing heap. “It’s been a year, Danny. You need to move on.” I closed the door to my angel’s wails.

I lay in bed that night, trying to envision my usual fantasy of making love to Danny. Instead of his angelic face in the throes of ecstasy, all I could picture was his tear-streaked face as he cursed at me for killing Tristan. I eventually gave up, frustration building inside me. The reality of having my angel home was much different from my fantasy.

Two days later Danny was still refusing to eat. He looked pale and gaunt. Dark circles were under his eyes that were now dull and passionless. He spent his days curled up on his bed, refusing to talk to me. I decided I had had enough. He needed to eat something before he got sick.

I entered his room carrying a bottle of water and a bowl of the stew I had made his first day with me. He lifted his head at the smell, his eyes showing the first sign of life since his meltdown about Tristan. I sat on the bed next to him. He backed up a little, but he lacked the strength he had three days ago. “You need to eat.” My tone of voice relayed my resolution. I was not going to let him refuse, even if I had to shove it down his throat.

He eyed the bowl in my hand, then looked at me, nodding. “Ok. I guess it doesn’t matter if you did poison it. I don’t care if I die right now. I don’t want to live like this.”

I scowled as I handed him the bowl. “Don’t talk like that. I told you I’m not going to poison or drug you.”

His hands shook when he took the bowl from me. He ate a spoonful, then devoured the rest quickly. “This is really good.”

I smiled, elated that my Danny liked what I had provided for him. He sat back against his pillows when he finished, looking decidedly less pale.

“You haven’t told me your name,” he said.

“Hank.”

“What’s your story, Hank?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Where are you from? Do you have any family? Any exes?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why do you want to know about me? You haven’t shown any interest in me since you got here.”

He shrugged. “If I’m going to be here a while, I might as well get to know you.”

I smiled. “I’m glad. I’m really not a bad guy.”

Danny returned my smile, but it looked strained to me. At least his eyes didn’t look so dull now.

“You don’t want to hear my story. The only good thing in my life is you.” I took the bowl and rose. “Do you want some more?”

“Sure. That sounds good.” He paused. “Hank? I do want to know more about you.”

I hesitated a step, then headed through the door to refill Danny’s bowl with stew. I felt like we had turned a corner in our relationship. My Danny wanted to know about me!

Relationships were something that didn’t come easy to me. Whether friendship or lovers, people would get to know me, then disappear. I never had anyone I could call a true friend. My mother tried to get me to play with the neighborhood kids, but they stayed away from me because I dressed strangely and spoke funny. She left when I was only ten, and after that I was stuck with an indifferent father, so I didn’t have the best role models when it came to interacting with other people. Being gay didn’t help, either; realizing that I was different than other boys made me retreat even further into my shell.

It was easy for men to take advantage of me after I left home. I was young, naïve, and willing to do what I thought was necessary to find a relationship. Trouble was, I didn’t understand the difference between a relationship and just sex. Men only wanted me for one thing, and it wasn’t a relationship.

Photographing all the families at Sears made me realize what I missed out on as a kid. I suppose it turned me bitter. All I wanted was to have a happy family–something that I never had. Danny and Tristan were the first gay couple I shot. Seeing how happy they were and that they were like me was a revelation. I think it’s why I fell in love with Danny. He was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.

Danny listened to me attentively, nodding in places and letting me know that he was listening to me. He was the first person in my life to actually care enough to listen to me. It meant the world to me.

Nights were tough. Knowing that Danny was so close was torture. I wanted to give him space, though. I wanted him to come to me. All the talk of my past was triggering nightmares that I thought I had laid to rest. I had a bad one the fifth night that Danny was with me. I needed him, so I softly entered his room. I didn’t want to disturb him, but he immediately awoke and sat up, his back against the headboard.

“I need you, Danny,” I whispered. I crawled under the covers, and he jumped out of the bed.

“I…I…can’t…I…don’t want to…” he said.

I frowned. “I’m not asking to have sex with you. I just want to hold you. Please? I had a nightmare.”

He looked at the door then at me. His shoulders slumped, and he returned to the bed. “Ok…but please…don’t,” he swallowed, “…rape me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not going to rape you? I would never hurt you, Danny. I love you too much to ever hurt you.”

I put my arms around him and drew him close. His body was tense. He still didn’t believe me. I breathed in his scent and buried my head into his shoulder. I tried to stop the tears, but having him in my arms was everything I imagined it would be. I fell asleep for the first time in days.

I woke to strange voices in my apartment. At first I thought I was dreaming, but Danny was sitting bolt upright next to me, his face lit up with hope.

“Hank Andres? Police! We have a warrant to search the premises!”

My blood froze. How had the police found me? I knew they were here for Danny. They were going to take my angel away from me!

“In here! Help! We’re in here!” Danny yelled, jumping off the bed.

My heart shattered when I heard him calling for help. It was all an act. He’d just been biding his time until the moment came when he could escape. I felt like everything was happening in slow motion. I heard the snick of the door lock, then several uniformed policemen stormed into Danny’s room with guns drawn. Danny was frantically motioning towards me; then they led him away as I was tackled to the ground with my arms jerked behind me. I felt the cold steel of metal cuffs encircle my wrists, and then I knew. It was over.

I was going to jail, and I’d never see Danny again. My angel was gone. He’d betrayed me. I heard snippets of conversation as if through water.

“…after a missing person’s report was filed by…”

“We tracked your cell phone to a dumpster outside of Sears.”

“…fingerprinted all the employees to rule them out.”

“We matched a print on your phone to an unknown taken at the scene of your partner’s car accident. It matched an employee who took portraits of you two years ago…”

“No, he didn’t hurt me. I thought he was going to rape me or something, but he didn’t. He just held me and fell asleep.”

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will –“

“No!” I yelled, drawing the word out with all the agony I was feeling. I looked at the officer reading me my rights. “Please shoot me! I can’t live without him! I love him!”

“Sorry, man, but you’re going to have to go into custody and let the legal system deal with you.”

I put up quite the fight as they dragged me down the stairs to a patrol car. I begged them to kill me. I wanted nothing more than to die if I couldn’t have my angel by my side. The officer placed his hand over my head before shoving me in the back seat of the police car. I flopped down onto the seat, sobbing as the sirens wailed and the car sped on, taking me away from my life and the man I loved.