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Last Room On The Left

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The Last Room On The Left
by PEJA

 

Duke followed the seductive music at a sedate pace, knowing what waited at the end of his journey, letting that knowledge fuel the thrumming of his blood in his veins. His breathing raced as he set foot to the first step. His hand trembled in anticipation.

He'd made this journey hundreds of times, but it never dulled the thrill sparking through him like a thousand sparklers erupting joyously inside him.

He mounted the stairs just as slowly as he'd crossed the room, fighting the very real need to dash in on what was happening in the last room on the left.

At the top of the stairs, he paused, closing his eyes. He needed to get himself under control. Needed to linger with his imagination firing to the memories of previous journeys made to the sultry music.

One step in front of the next torturous step, Duke approached the room almost simulating a wedding march down the isle. Step. Pause. Step. Pause...

And then he stood at the door.

He pressed his ear against the rough hewn grain. No fine sanded door, this one. This door held a darkness so sweet it could drive a man insane.

The music wafted through the wood like a lyrical perfume. Or a siren's call, drawing him to ....

He smiled, turning the knob.

Another hesitation.

And finally, slowly, agonizingly slowly, he inched the door open.

The room, windowless, was immersed in darkness so black as to be a void.

Non-existent and outside the realm of this world.

Well, this was Haven. Anything was possible.

The music curled around his soul and whispered to his soul, urging him to take the chance.  He hesitated one heartbeat, listening for and finding the sound of heels on hard wood, and hot breathing of someone who....

He took that one step into the room and closed the door behind him.

A single spotlight flared, blinding him momentarily until his eyes adjusted to the sudden change.

The dancer, silver stiletto heels flashing in the brilliant light, seemed almost to be making love to the dancer's pole she...he...clung to.  

Nathan. So handsome in his uniform. So extraordinarily lovely in the short frill of a scarlet negligee, so sheer as to leave less to the imagination than nudity.

And Nathan saved this vision for him. Only for him.

Duke settled into the easy chair to watch the dance that Nathan, his lover, shared only with him.  

The night was young.

And there were many forms of dance the two would share before the day claimed them and sent them back to the lives the community expected of them.

end

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