Grazing the crescent with outstretched fingertips.

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A blessing for me is those brief few moments in the morning, when you awaken, groggy and drowsy, warm between the blankets and sheets, and for those sweet few moments of oblivion you know nothing. The sleepy fog is heavy on your brain and no coherent thoughts escape. Only thoughts like "My mouth is dry" or "I need to turn the alarm off or I'm going to cry". That is my favourite time of the day. Often I will try to stretch it out as long as possible, lay in bed completely still and cling to those fleeting seconds or sometimes minutes of freedom from the troubling thoughts which I usually have to suffer. This morning, however, the morning after Gray's visit was different. I awoke with a terrible headache, my mouth tasted awful, my mouth was much more than dry, it was like a barren desert and I quickly knocked back the glass of water at my bedside. It had been uncomfortable asking Gray to leave the night before and it was still fresh in my mind almost as soon as I'd woken up. He'd seemed to be under the impression that I'd let him stay, but I'm not that trusting. As a mad, paranoid freak, rather than spend a pleasant night in the arms of my newest beau, I'd rather turf him out into the snow to walk to whatever shithole he's living in. I had to remind myself that just because we'd entered a relationship of sorts was not a confirmation that I was responsible for him, that I should take him in and feed him and clothe him. I would have to explain to him soon how I felt about his guitar playing ways.

I climbed out of bed and paused a moment. Instead of powering straight to the kitchen for toast, I walked to the mirror. I was wearing a pair of red y-fronts, so all of my flaws were on display. I decided Gray was mad to find me attractive. With my gangling limbs I looked like some kind of troll or goblin, my face was stern and drawn looking, and my hair? My hair was a mess. My hair was a dull, boring colour. Nothing vibrant or exciting. My favourite feature was my eyes, And I hid those between chunky black glasses. Ah well, I decided, what's the point in being vain? If Gray likes me, Gray likes me. I wandered through to the kitchen and popped a piece of bread in the toaster. I opened my fridge, it was bare apart from a bottle of skimmed milk, a half empty tub of margarine and a chunk of mild cheddar. I took out the margarine and placed it by the toaster, pouring myself a glass of water. The toast popped up and I buttered it, and ate it all bar the crusts which I threw into the bin. After a quick shower and getting dressed, I sat infront of the television, flicking through the channels lazily. I had realised that I probably would not see Gray today. After last night he would understand that he shouldn't come here unless I agreed to it first, and we hadn't exchanged phone numbers. I doubted he had a phone anyway. I supposed I could go looking for him, I could go down to see if he was by the bookstore, but somehow I felt awkward about doing that. After all, standing outside with the guitar was his bizarre version of working. If I went to see him it would be like interrupting his work, dragging him away from his source of income. As crappy an income as that might be, it was better than nothing. As I sat, staring at the QVC shopping channel, I began to wonder... Had he done something terrible? Was that why he resorted to busking? Could he not get a job because of a criminal record as long as his arm? There was no way I could find out, anyway. It's not like I could just hop on my computer and bring him the sordid details of his past. The thought of it made my stomach churn and I wondered then if I would want to know, for sometimes ignorance is bliss.

During this time of deep thought, I made a decision. A decision that when it turned five o'clock, when all the stores were closed, that's when I would fetch Gray from outside the bookstore where I had now convinced myself he would be. Maybe even waiting for me? Maybe. There was always the chance that Gray might not want to see me again, too, and I figuered if he wasn't outside the bookstore, I could begin to formulate that assumption. I reclined back in my plush sofa and closed my eyes with a sigh. Why was my life so bland, dull and empty? My Mother was a widow, before I was born, so from birth I was accustomed to loss. As I grew the losses just became more poignant, and I became wealthier from them, as each of my senior family members were knocked down like dominoes I gained their assets, until finally my Mother passed away and I was left at twenty years old completely self sufficient and with no need to work, and at first, I didn't. I revelled in being out of school and having no responsibilities but quickly grew tired of having nothing to pass the time, so I worked at the book shop. Five days a week, eight hours a day, just like anyone else would, except I didn't need any of the money I was gaining but I didn't want to give it away, oh no. If you haven't guessed, ironically, despite my own privaledged status in terms of wealth, I believed whole heartedly in capitalism and thought it foolish to try and support others who couldn't support themselves. Time crept by slowly as these sluggish thoughts crept around my brain until finally, at quarter past four, my patience was drained dry and I found myself shrugging on my large coat and pulling on my heavy boots to go find him.

The snow was going to blizzard tonight, I could tell. As I trudged down the street the wind chill was icy and biting, I shivered and huddled deeper into the thick layers I was wearing, my cheeks were turning an unsightly rosey red, as was the tip of my nose. As I predicted, there he was, playing his guitar and singing. It seemed christmas charity and pity due to the weather had encouraged people to be more giving than usual, the inside of his guitar case was a sea of silver and gold, with even a couple of notes scattered here and there. He smiled when he saw me. I waited for him to finish his songs, goosebumps tingled on my arms and I found myself wondering why he didn't try to do something more productive with his talent, like play at bars or clubs. I also supposed that perhaps it was useless to try and understand some things. If I asked, he would not give me a reasonable answer.
'What're you doing here? You don't work on weekends,' Gray was smiling, trying to play dumb.
'Just passing by,' I replied flatly. His smile faded just a little. I reached out and gently brushed aside the snow speckled and damp locks of his hair, I noticed then I had stepped much closer to him. 'I was gonna go get something to eat maybe, or a drink, I don't know.' His lips were bubblegum pink because of the cold, his face pinched and white, but he looked gorgeous, his head tilted back just a little to make eye contact with me. I wanted to scoop him up, hold him close, kiss him all over. I didn't though. Gray was still quiet, so I continued. 'Since you're here... Want to come?' Before Gray could answer, he sneezed loudly. I sighed, handing him a tissue, he looked sheepish. I found myself unwrapping my thick scarf, bundling it up around his thin and pale little neck.
'Sure... Where're we going?' he asked, he was blushing now, and his eyes wouldn't meet mine. A tiny smile was tugging at my lips but I solidly kept my features sombre.
'I know somewhere nice... Come on, follow me,' I looked quickly, up and down, there weren't so many people. I extended my hand to him, my gloved hand to his bare and trembling one. He took mine, I slipped his hand into my pocket like how we'd walked before. As I ran my thumb gently over his fingers, I wondered if I really was melting into something similar to the grey slushed up tire tracks on the road. I sincerely hoped not. The place I wanted to go to wasn't a restaraunt, I rarely went to restauraunts as my ex girlfriend adored them and would constantly harass me to take her to them. I was more a fan of small cafe's with short menus and as few people as possible. We sat, by the window, Gray stared outside until one of the cafe's waitresses came to us. I didn't smile at her, even though she beamed like crazy at us. I nudged Gray with my foot.
'Hey... What do you want?' I asked.
'Oh uh... Can I have... The choclate milkshake, a cheeseburger and fries, please?' The waitress jotted it down.
'I'll have a black coffee and uh... A danish,' Gray arched an eyebrow slightly and I shrugged. 'What? I feel like a danish. Is that so weird?'
'Um... Yeah?' I rolled my eyes, he snickered to himself. We sat in silence for a few moments, he stared out the window, I stared at him.
'So... About last night...' I began, but he quickly cut me off.
'It's cool, don't worry about it. I had a real nice time last night...' I looked at the table cloth. I felt uncomfortable suddenly, I knew what he was referring to, and now that I was sober it was a strange thing to come to terms with. I felt his soft palm ontop of my hand and I looked up at him. He looked sympathetic. I smiled a half smile, and gently slid my hand out from beneath his as our food and drinks arrived. He sipped at his milkshake and sighed softly. 'Mmm... It's good,' I smiled a little. My danish was far too big, I knew I'd manage half of it at most, but I got the feeling that Gray was a little like a human waste disposal and anything I didn't manage to eat I could rely on him to consume. The coffee was nice and strong and hot though, and despite it's size the danish was good. As I had predicted, I ended up pushing half of it in Gray's direction. 'You don't want it?'
'I'm full,' the coffee warmed me up from the inside. Gray ate the danish, as I knew he would. When he was all done eating, I asked for a cup of cocoa for him. He blushed as always, twiddled his fingers, and tried to protest when I paid for everything. We sat and I joined him for a moment in gazing out the window, only to find that when I turned back to him his eyes were boring holes into my skull. 'Do you want to come hang out at mine again tonight?' I heard my voice, as if it were detached. He nodded. I felt pleased and dizzy with nerves all at once, but a nagging little voice hiding somewhere in my skull told me to get a grip. So I did. When we were done with our drinks I walked him to my house, the same way I had before. The sky was velvety black already, and despite the fact winter had been around the entire of my life, I couldn't help but be surprised at how quickly it would be pitch black and the snow would be working itself into a flurry. We were half running, half shuffling by the time we were on my street and just as we were coming up to my door, as if in slow motion, I watched Gray's feet slip out from beneath him. I knew what was going to happen, and I've never prided myself on how quick my reaction time is, but this time, my arms shot out immediately. He landed in them heavily, I winced a little, but otherwise neither of us were about to hit the concrete. He looked up at me and I've never seen him smile a bigger smile than that moment. I leant down and kissed him, a chaste touch, I couldn't seem to resist, his cheeks flushed bright pink and I ushered him into the house. Again, I put his sneakers on the radiator and hung up his coat. We sat and I switched on the television. We were quiet for a while, but I felt comfortable.
'So... Do you have any family?' this wasn't a topic I liked. My fingers were warming up on the mug I was holding. I stared at the television set for a few brief moments, and decided to just be blunt about it.
'They're dead.'
'What?'
'My Father died before I was born, my Mother died last year, my Grandmother died two years before that, and one year before that my Grandpa died. My Mother was an only child and so was I. I don't know any of my Father's side of the family, after he died, they drifted away according to my Mother...' Gray's face wasn't twisted, but rather rigid with pity. He had to clear his throat before he spoke.
'That's so sad,' seemed to be all he could muster. I smiled, and found my fingers seeking out the strands of hair at the nape of his neck, toying with them gently. I watched my fingers instead of his face.
'Yeah... Yeah, it is. So how about you? Surely your parents aren't pleased about the lifestyle you choose,' I knew it was safe to say this. If Gray's parents had dropped dead on him already too, he'd have mentioned it.
'No, they're not really. I ran away when I was 15, I lived on the streets for three years, playing this guitar... It was all I had really. Then my brother came here and bought a flat, I moved in with him...' Gray swallowed, and carried on. 'We don't get along so well, though.'
'Cause you'd rather stand outside in the freezing cold playing a guitar like a beggar than get a real job?' my words were crude, but these were questions I'd wanted to ask since the day I'd seen him. He sort of smirked at me, but it wasn't a self indulgent smirk, it was probably closer to an embittered smile.
'Yes,' a one word answer. He drank his cuppasoup and I looked at mine with distain. Chicken and leek, gross.
'Well I think that's ridiculous,' I responded simply. 'Infact, it's bothered me since I first saw you, why not just play bars and clubs, it's not like you suck at playing and...' I paused, I felt embarassed suddenly, I was about to compliment him, even reveal what had drawn me to him in the first place. He was looking at me expectantly, and I always felt it important to finish what you started. 'You have a beautiful voice,' I finished. He scooted closer to me on the sofa, his thigh pressed against mine, it was damp.
'Thanks...' I placed down my mug and wrapped an arm around his skinny little waist. All his clothes were sodden, it would never do, he'd catch a cold. Infact, despite the fact I'd switched on a electric heater right next to us and turned on the central heating, he was still shivering exactly as he had been outside.
'Gray... Maybe... You should take off those wet clothes. I have a tumble dryer, you know,' I blushed a little. I knew that if Gray took his clothes off, then obviously, Gray would be naked. A sly sort of smile curled his lips, and I didn't really catch on.
'Sure... You're right,' his voice was a soft murmur and he stood up immediately, beginning to peel off the wet layers. I averted my eyes, as any polite person would, and held my hands out to accept his clothes, but instead of recieving clothes I instead felt his body pressing up against mine, his hands resting on my hips, I opened my eyes and looked down at him, as naked as the day he was born, his skin was perfectly smooth and silken.

One moment I was preforming an act of charity, the next I was being dragged to my bedroom by a naked man, a naked man who slammed the door shut behind us and looked at me with the biggest bedroom eyes I'd ever seen in my life. My stomach churned and I backed away, the backs of my knees met the bottom of my bed and I stood still, a small smile curled Gray's lips as he sidled closer.
'What's wrong, Caleb...? You look nervous...' I steeled myself.
'Gray, I'm not sure what you're doing,' he was pressed up against me, his hips against mine, his hands skating down my sides, slipping beneath the hem of my shirt, and slowly sliding it up.
'I think you know exactly what I'm doing,' he whispered, his voice was soft, low and sultry, and I stood still as his lips skated over my chest, kissing and licking and sucking, my fingers found their way to his hair and despite myself I felt my back arching towards him, and as he nudged at my arms, encouraging me to lift them so he could take my shirt off, I complied. He pressed his hands against my chest and pushed, I fell back onto the bed limp and he crept ontop of me, straddling my hips and griding down against my crotch, I bucked up against him, my hands slipping round to grip his backside. His hands fumbled with my belt, then my fly, dragging my jeans down, slipping off my legs to tug them free completely, my underwear soon followed and I grew self concious again, though everytime I tried to cover myself up or shy away from him, his hands seemed to be quicker, catching ahold of mine and holding them still. His fingers were skillful and I knew I wasn't the first man he'd ever been with, his lips crushed to mine and his tongue wound into my mouth insistently, muffling any sound that escaped my throat. He pulled away, slipping my glasses off and placing them carefully on the bedside table, as I always did before I went to bed. In the brief moment when my mouth was free, I voiced my concerns.
'Gray don't you think this is all a bit fast? I mean... We barely know eachother,' Gray looked at me for a moment, his hands had my wrists pinned to the bed.
'Does it feel good?' he asked. I wondered if it was a trick question. Hesitantly, I nodded. 'So what's the problem? We're both adults, we're enjoying ourselves, I'm extremely attracted to you, Caleb.'
'I... Find you attractive too, Gray, but I mean... I don't know...' I felt terrible, suddenly, like I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Either be a cock tease, or face my fears.
'If you want me to stop I'll stop right now...' his eyes were completely serious, I broke eyecontact, I'd never felt like this before and it was frightening. I bit down on my lip and shook my head, my voice sounded alien to my ears, a soft, breathy whisper enduced by the sensation of his skin pressed against mine.
'Don't stop...'