DECEMBER 29, 2007

Parlor Game
by Renee Manley

Gabriel had been carefully turned around three times, and now the parlor was a mess of activity. Here and there, young ladies and gentlemen ran, skipped, and dodged while tearing the yuletide air with shrieks of laughter and an occasional phrase or two of encouragement. Gabriel, securely blindfolded and awkwardly reaching out, fought to catch his quarry in the darkness.

Against one wall Roland stood, smiling quietly as he watched their Christmas game unfold with raucous energy. He held a glass of sherry in one hand, and he took small, idle sips as his gaze followed Gabriel’s stumbling figure, pleasure (rather than the wine) warming him. Here and there, one of their friends would tap the blindfolded youth on the shoulder, but Gabriel only paid him or her cursory attention, turning briefly if only to reach, unseeing, in his or her direction before going back to his real intent. It was a miracle that he hadn’t tripped over one of the ladies’ trailing bustles though he did stumble over an inconveniently-placed rug. A few bits of torn lace lay strewn on the floor—unavoidable accidents caused by blindfolded players before him, but the ladies didn’t seem to mind minor damages to their gowns.

Roland, for his part, refused to move from where he stood. He found that there was virtue in turning invisible—literally, with regard to Gabriel. With the hubbub around him, he remained ignored by his friends, free to stare and to revel in his advantage over his lover.

He silently willed Gabriel in his direction. A reckless move, he knew, given the danger of their relationship, but he couldn’t help himself, especially with the other young man in such a predicament. He watched Gabriel gingerly feel his way past furniture, his fingers sliding over velvet and wood, their tips tracing graceful curves and plump cushions. There was a subtle deliberateness to those touches, he knew, for Gabriel was well aware that Roland was watching him. Those were the same touches he used when exploring his lover’s body, his fingers trailing over Roland’s chest, pausing briefly to swirl over a nipple before moving downward—past the dip of his navel and toward his erection, concluding the journey with a languid trail over the thickened shaft till he reached the flared tip, capturing the bead of moisture that had begun to collect there and spreading it over the head.

Roland watched and waited as Gabriel, as though guided by his silent call, fumbled and felt his way toward him. He’d reached the wall, ignoring the laughter that met his so-called blunder, and he began to grope along, edging closer and closer to Roland, who’d just caught his breath. He could almost feel the heat of Gabriel’s body as the distance dissolved between them. Those hands—still hard at work in seeking out the other man while demonstrating a sharp understanding of their connection—trailed along the wallpaper, those fingers once again taunting in the way they moved languidly over the patterns, calling to mind their warm pressure as they glided over Roland’s shoulders and down the small of his back, moving over the swell of his buttocks and sometimes pressing between his cheeks to bury themselves in the tightness of his body.

Someone called for him to run, but Roland stood rooted against the wall, paralyzed and unable to breathe, his drink completely forgotten. Gabriel had reached him now, and Roland was watching—and feeling—his lover force his presence into his space. Then those hands were on him, claiming him in spite of the barrier of clothing between them, and he saw Gabriel smile impishly beneath his blindfold.

“Found you at last,” Gabriel whispered. Indeed, he did.

As those fingers inched their way up Roland’s chest to busy themselves on his face, tracing his jawline, his nose, and his mouth, a cheer rose around them.

“You should’ve run, you ridiculous statue!” someone laughed. Their friends must be declaring him the next to be blindfolded, but Roland preferred to read their collective voices as approbation for his love.

“My turn,” he murmured in that soft, teasing tone his lover always liked, while Gabriel pulled the blindfold off his face. He blinked away the darkness before gazing up at Roland, rumpled and grinning slyly. It would take Roland a few seconds longer to find Gabriel in the dark, but he blamed the sherry for that.

***

Renee Manley's Opulence at Midnight will be on sale at 15% off until 12-31-07.