And you think he’d want… me? Sight unseen?Alain haddemanded.
Kevin had given him the megawatt grin he occasionally bestowed when Alain conquered some new milestone in his workout.I’ll tell him you’re hot as hell. He’ll be all over it.It would have been an ego boost, if Alain had thought Kevin really believedit.
Don’t lie to him, Alain had urged, horrified. But Kevin had simply shaken his head like Alain had just confirmed something, and told him to finish gettingdressed.
And before he’d known what was happening, Kevin’s friend Dillon texted him, making plans for their night. Total honesty would be the only requirement, everything else was negotiable. Did Alain like humiliation, pain play, breath play? The questions, asked so baldly and with zero context about what Dillon himself might like, had left Alain with no choice but to reply honestly.Definitely not, I don’t think so, and Probably not,in that order. Was Alain into bondage? He’d been in the middle of replying confidently in the negative to that, too, when he’d realized that, actually... yes, he thought he might be. Sensation play? A quick google search later, images of scenarios involving ice cubes and feathers dancing in his head, he’d replied with aprobably. And how did Alain feel about role play - props, costumes, masks? He was surprised to find that, upon reflection, he felt pretty damn intrigued. It occurred to him that he didn’t even know what this Dillon person looked like, but found that really didn’t matter to him at all. He was too focused on what Dillon would do to him… and how much he wantedit.
I’ll be there at nine,Dillon had texted after Alain had provided his address. And then his final message had arrived, making Alain’s stomach turn itself insideout.
Lights off, shirt off, shoes off. Beready.
Be ready. Right. Yeah. Totally. Alain was ready, alright. Ready to snatch his keys off the hall table and flee into the night, or maybe to throw up. He wiped his damp palms on the legs of his jeans - the only item of clothing he was wearing, which ironically felt more like playing dress-up than if he’d had on a full mask and costume - and grabbed his phone to check the timeagain.
Eight-fifty-five.Progress.
Alain went over a checklist in his mind. Drinks were in the refrigerator. He’d changed his sheets as soon as he’d gotten home from work. Towels in the bathroom were clean, and he’d bought a fresh bottle of lube and some condoms to put in his nightstand drawer. It seemed like the right thing to do. Assuming sex was on the menu probably wasn’t too presumptuous given that Kevin had called Dillon asure thing,right?
In fact, Alain sincerely hoped the guy didn’t want to hang out before they moved onto the bedroom, because if he did, he’d be disappointed. Alain wandered to the living room doorway, and stood staring at the nearly-empty room. A single leather club chair and a side table with a lamp were the only furniture in the cavernous space. Even the wires hanging out of the wall above the fireplace where a television was supposed to go seemed pitiful. He had no idea what he was doing in thishouse.
He had no idea what he was doingwith Dillon. This wasn’thim. What had he beenthinking?
He grabbed his phone again. Was it too late to panic-cancel? To text and say he’d suddenly taken ill and they’d need to reschedule for the day afternever?
Just as he swiped to unlock the screen, his doorbellrang.
He took a deep breath and felt vicious, fanged butterflies beat against the inside of his stomach, constricting his breathing.Okay. Definitely too late to cancel. You’re committed, sobecommitted.
He flipped the lock and pulled the doorwide.
Holy shit, the man was enormous. Way taller than Alain, even taller than Kevin, this guy seemed to take up the entire door frame... or maybe that was partly because of the costume he was wearing. A long, black cape hung from his broad shoulders, covering what appeared to be a tuxedo in the shadowy light. The white shirt stood out against the darkness, pulled taut across a muscled chest, the sleeves rolled up to reveal shadowed, muscled forearms. Dark hair was slicked back from his face, which was covered by a half-mask that distorted hisappearance.
“Happy Halloween,” Dillon said, and holyfuckthe man’s voice was deep and growly - and really, reallyfamiliar?
Alain wet his lips nervously. “Phantom of the Opera?” hecroaked.
The half-face split into a wicked, white grin, and a deep voice replied, “Not a fan ofmusicals?”
Alain snorted, clapping a hand to his mouth. “Oh. No, I am,” he said softly, his eyes not leaving Dillon’s face. “Just wondering if you’re planning to lure me to your dungeon and keep me captiveforever.”
“Maybe we’ll start with tonight.” Dillon’s voice twice as deep but just as soft. Before Alain had a chance to wonder what he was talking about, Dillon inhaled audibly, and Alain could sense that his gaze had sharpened. “Turn around,” hecommanded.
Wow. Wow, okay.That was... this was... weird. But strangely, not in a bad way. Alain trusted Kevin, and Kevin trusted Dillon, so Alain let himself relax as he turned around and faced the short hallway that led to hiskitchen.
“W-what happens now?” hestammered.
“Now,” Dillon said, stepping behind him so closely that his hot breath painted the back of Alain’s neck and made him shiver, “it’s time for trick ortreat.”
“I d-don’t have anycandy.”
Dillon’s chuckle was maybe the sexiest sound Alain had ever heard. “That’s okay, handsome. I have different treats in mind tonight. Butfirst...”
He lifted his hands in front of Alain’s face, a black cotton scarf stretched between them. “I want to tie this around your eyes.Okay?”
Alain swallowed, though his mouth had gone dry. He’d be effectively blind, and...“What, uh...what for? What’s gonna happen afterthat?”
“That’s not what I asked you, Alain.” Dillon’s voice was patient, quiet,firm. “I asked, is it okay for me to tie this blindfold aroundyou?”
Alain’s stomach fluttered as his internal questions were choked off. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Yes.”
