The Temptation

Author: Cold Silence

E-Mail: writer.coldsilence@gmail.com

Warnings: M/M Relationship, supernatural elements, PWP.

Special Note: This story was written for two great guys who have made my life so much more enjoyable. To Zinc and Kyler, I hope you guys are having a good time, wherever you are.

My fics are archived at: http://www.geocities.com/colorfuldelusions/index.html

Will need to change my website soon since geocities is closing.


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The Temptation

Kyler had always been a fan of art. He loved how a picture enclosed by four corners could evoke everything from a simple emotion to a profound experience. In his spare time, he often visited galleries for pleasure, and sometimes contemplation and inspiration. As a writer, he found that his imagination flowered after his mind’s eye was tickled by interesting paintings.

Unfortunately, his trade didn’t afford him a lot of spending money. He didn’t own his own collection at home, just a piece here and there that spoke to him. Still, his love of art was dangerous at times, because there were some paintings that he simply had to own despite his financial circumstances. This was the story behind the purchase of a painting aptly named: The Temptation.

It cost him three months of future rent to buy this piece. Still, he believed that every penny was worth it. The painting consisted of a picture of a lake and blue skies; the background to a very handsome man that was seated at the base of a leafy free. He held a bright red apple in one hand, which was pressed to his lips in anticipation of a bite, and his brown eyes were sharply fixed on the viewer beyond his world.

On the surface, the painting was clearly meant to represent faraway desire. Naturally, Kyler had things in his life that he wanted but were out of reach. This included drama free relationships, owning a house, traveling the world, and having money to do these things. As an author, he was very confident in his abilities, but when it came to forming deep connections with other people and expanding his horizons, he was not so confident in his ability or his resources.

However, these were surface things. There was a second layer to the painting that Kyler couldn’t quite put his finger on. It took a long time before he figured out what it was, because the tempter inside of the frame was simply that distracting. The nameless man was comfortable in his naked skin, which was shamelessly stretched out beneath the dappled sunlight. He was tanned a deep bronze and his figure was athletic, as if he had spent a lifetime traversing the lake and fields of his back drop.

Kyler found it odd how the man’s coloring was so dark compared to the rest of the bright painting. In fact, he came to the conclusion that despite the innocent scene, The Temptation was in fact a picture of darkness. “It’s in the hair,” he would argue to friends. “It’s jet black.”

“No it’s cropped short. It’s supposed to be playful,” his friends would counter argue.

The answer came to him one morning, when he was walking past the painting in his studio. He looked at the picture as always did around that time of day, because the rays of sunlight coming from his window always did strange things to the ones depicted in the oils. Then he smiled in triumph, for it all made sense in that moment.

“You think that apple tastes like shit,” he declared with a touch of humor. Of course, the painting couldn’t answer and say whether he was right or wrong, but Kyler was certain of the truth. The figure hated the apple, and that made perfect sense.


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There came a time when Kyler realized that purchasing The Temptation was not the best financial move. He liked to budget his money so that he didn’t have to worry about rent and utilities for a year. At the time that he bought the painting, he told himself that the commission from selling his stories would cover the three month loss of funds. Sadly, he didn’t count on suddenly coming down with a case of writer’s block, or the fact that his boyfriend suddenly came down with a staph infection and a lot of medical bills, or that his family would finally wise up to the fact that he was gay and completely disown him. By the time it was August, it was pretty obvious that his situation was grim.

Kyler didn’t handle his stress well. He let it boil inside of him until he exploded in anger at the furniture or drank too much. Countless nights were spent staring at a blank sheet of paper and a glass of bourbon in his hands, only to wake up the next day and repeat the process.

It was during one of those sordid nights that his life began to change. He was sprawled in the chair at his writing desk, with a half-empty bottle of bourbon within arm’s reach. One of his hands idly patted his stomach, contemplating the burn of liquor and the fact that he was going to develop love handles without his gym membership. Kyler had the body type that was phenomenal when built, but tended to be husky without constant exercise.

“First my creativity,” he complained to the silence, “then my money, my apartment. My looks.” Kyler turned his gaze to his favorite painting, the sole listener to his late night ranting and the source of all his woes. He had been cursing The Temptation for the duration of the month now. When he opened his mouth to continue this nightly ritual, no words came out, because he noticed that something was wrong with the painting.

Namely, the figure was gone.

“…My sanity,” Kyler finished with disbelief. He scrambled up from his chair and rushed to stand in front of the painting. Indeed, the bronze Adonis that always sat beneath the tree was completely gone. There was no trace that he had ever been there, except for a lone apple that was resting on the grass.

Kyler touched the painting in hopes of discovering the trick behind this mystery. The frame was solid and the oil felt textured beneath his hands, but there were no switches or telltale edges in the paper that indicated that the painting that had been changed. All he could glean from his examination was that the apple had been bitten into.

“Bizarre,” Kyler muttered. He touched his head, as if the gesture could somehow reset his brain and make his picture look the way that it was supposed to.

“I say it’s provincial,” said a deep, unexpected voice.

Kyler whirled around, and what he saw made every last hair on his body stand on end. Standing only two paces from him was the very man that was supposed to be in his painting. He looked as if he had simply stepped out of the frame, because not only was he a perfect match to the missing figure, but he was still completely naked. The lack of clothing did not seem to bother the stranger at all, he stood there with his arms folded and contemplated the frame beyond Kyler’s shoulder as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

“What are you doing in my house?” demanded Kyler. Already, he was taking swift steps towards his telephone. “I am calling the police. How dare you – “

“You will call the police and tell them what?” interrupted the stranger. He had a thick accent that made his voice sound like pure velvet. “The naked man in your painting has come to life and is now standing in your study?”

Kyler picked up his telephone from the cradle. His hands were shaking as he reached for the buttons. “They only need to know that there is an intruder in my house.”

“A naked man in your home. You, smelling like alcohol. Do the local police take well to drunk gays?”

Kyler paused in the middle of dialing 9-1-1.

“Don’t worry,” continued the stranger, “you are only having a nervous breakdown. With the right medication you will be normal again.” The man flashed a wicked smile, and then he strode over to Kyler’s desk. He sat in the chair as if he belonged there, and then began rummaging through the papers in the drawers.

Kyler watched the man walk and go through his things, torn between calling the police or not. His fingers continued to hover over the numbers. “Is this candid camera?” he finally asked.

“No. You are just crazy. I will disappear the moment you call the police,” answered the Adonis. He finally found some papers with writing, and after scanning the first few lines of scrawled text, he sucked his teeth. “These stories are crap. For an erotica writer, you are very boring.”

“So you came here to insult me,” said Kyler with a touch of annoyance. He abandoned the phone and stalked towards his desk so that he could snatch the papers out of the stranger’s hands. “Who are you?” he asked tersely.

“Your muse,” answered the man with a haughty gesture of his hands. “Isn’t it obvious? You are an erotica writer, and I am a naked man in your study. You should be writing this down, you’ll sell millions.”

“In other words, you’re the story fairy,” said Kyler dryly.

“Maybe. But the more important question is, how will you get me to sleep with you.”

Kyler stared with indignation. “This is very inappropriate. I don’t care if you’re a hallucination or not, or if I’m a drunk fag. I’m calling the police.” With that, Kyler made his way back to the phone that had been abandoned.

“You may try,” said the stranger, his velveteen voice rolling every “r” with relish, “but your phones will not work. This is all in your mind after all, and given that fact, you would be even more insane not to want to sleep with me.”

Kyler wasn’t buying it. He picked up the telephone and pressed the receiver to his ear, only to find that the dial tone was dead. Gritting his teeth, Kyler changed tactics and tried to use his cell phone instead. Unfortunately, the result was the same, the line was dead.

It was with dawning horror that Kyler began to suppose that the stranger was right. Maybe he was stuck in some weird mental fantasy. He had experienced lucid dreams before; perhaps this situation was no different. The man had somehow stepped out of the painting; therefore there was no way that this situation could be real. Right?

Kyler stiffened when he felt a pair of warm arms circle his torso. His unwanted houseguest feathered his lips over Kyler’s ear, and then whispered huskily, “Have you accepted it?”

Ba-dum went Kyler’s heart as he thought of the possibilities. He was here with a gorgeous man, with no strings attached, no limits, and no one hurt in this moment of wish fulfillment. Kyler found himself relenting, even as he firmly said the words, “It has to be my rules.” He had his own reasons for establishing this, none of which he wanted to go into right now.

In answer, the stranger crooked a finger under Kyler’s chin and guided his face so that they were looking at one another. “I will respect your wish as an artist, but you have a lot of work to do before I respect you as a man.” He smirked at the way Kyler balked at him, and continued in a murmur, “I have seen the shade of your eyes in the morning sky.”

Kyler could barely keep up with all the insults and compliments coming out of the stranger’s mouth. If this was a figment of his imagination, his subconscious could have at least given him a nicer persona. Fortunately, all of his misgivings became irrelevant when the stranger pressed their lips together.

All of Kyler’s doubts melted away the moment their mouths touched, because the stranger kissed him like he knew him. The Adonis pressed gentle but insistent wet lips against Kyler’s, over and over until his teeth came down in an impatient bite. That was all it took for Kyler to be hooked, and he opened his mouth to let this intriguing intruder in.

At first impression, Kyler could appear shy, but when it came to sex he was completely uninhibited. He proved to be as shameless as his naked lover by moaning wantonly at the first kiss, and by turning his body so that they were flush against each other. His hands went straight for the other’s abs, and he made an appraising little noise at the back of his throat when he felt the washboard ripples of muscle beneath his fingertips. “Nice,” he couldn’t help commenting.

“Shall we compare?” asked his mysterious lover with a grin. He reached for the collar of Kyler’s shirt and made short work of the buttons that held it together. Kyler had a pair of pert, dark nipples, and the man simultaneously reached for them both. They were tweaked like little dials, all with the air of conducting a thorough examination. “Mine is better,” was the man’s final assessment, just before ducking his head so that he could take one of those brown nubs into his mouth.

Kyler would have retorted, but he was too distracted to say anything. Instead, he bit his lip, mirroring the way that his lover was teething him like a babe. He wrapped a hand around the other man’s neck, as if he could keep him there permanently by that touch alone. His other hand wandered down to his own crotch and crushed the denim around his crotch. Kyler hissed at his own pleasure, and then he thumbed open the fly to his jeans.

He wasn’t allowed to work alone. His lover batted his hands away and worked his jeans down to his ankles. Then, the Adonis virtually attacked the bulge in Kyler’s boxer briefs with his tongue, as if it was a great joy to be savoring another man’s cock. His mouth opened wide and he sucked on Kyler’s testicles through the fabric. The blue underwear turned navy with saliva, and the man’s lips smacked noisily every time the balls he was savoring rolled out of his mouth.

It was too good to be true. Only in a dream would Kyler find such a daring, sexual man. Although he usually liked to take his time with his lovers, he wanted it quick and dirty, because there was no telling when he would wake up and find himself slouched on the couch with a hangover. He pushed the other man away by the shoulders so that he would stop mouthing his sack and shuffled completely out of his underwear. His cock snapped out of the elastic like a raised flag; very hard and dripping with pre cum.

The Adonis began to reach for the newly revealed cock, but was stopped when Kyler grasped his wrists.

“The desk,” said Kyler huskily.

The stranger raised a brow, but he slanted a smile as if to say that he liked Kyler’s train of thought. He lifted himself from his crouch and strode towards the desk as if he were about to make himself at home on a throne. With one sweep of his hand, he knocked over all pencil bins and papers that had been scattered on the table’s surface to the floor. The only thing that he did not allow to fall was the bottle of bourbon; that was held in his grasp as he mounted the desk.

The stranger took a sip of the drink, and nodded his head as if to approve of the taste. Then he poured the amber liquid down into his belly button and liberally dribbled it over his cock. Kyler watched the other man’s actions with a hungry fascination that had him prowling to the desk like a stalking panther.

The Adonis pulled Kyler into an embrace with both his arms and legs. They clashed together in a bourbon flavored kiss that left their mouths red and raw. Kyler ripped himself away from their heated lip lock and descended upon the man’s body as if he were about to devour a great feast. He nipped the bronze skin of his lover’s neck and was pleased to find that it earned him a gruff grunt. It fueled his enthusiastic path down between the muscular valleys of the other man’s pecs, which he couldn’t help but fondle and massage into tingling wakefulness.

His lover arched his upper body in mute offering. The movements disturbed the liquid on his stomach and made it leak over his hips in dark rivulets. Kyler didn’t let too much of it escape; he caught what he could with his lips and funneled his tongue deep into the other man’s belly button to suck up the remains. Then he grasped the bourbon soaked cock and pushed it as deep as possible into his mouth, only to seal his lips and draw it slowly back out. Alcohol flavored foreskin pooled around the fingers he had wrapped around his lover’s shaft, and he drew the flesh all the way up until it enveloped the glans. Kyler stabbed his tongue into the funnel he created and swirled it; smearing saliva and filmy precum over the slit of the penis.

The man was now grunting and exhaling in pleasure almost continuously. He took the bottle of bourbon, spread his legs wide and nudged his balls aside so that he could press the bottle’s lip against his asshole. He relaxed his pelvic floor and slowly began to ease it past his sphincter. Liquid sloppily poured down his hole, most of it getting all over the desk rather than inside of him.

Kyler stopped playing with his cock to watch this erotic scene. His pupils were so dilated that the bright blue of his iris had nearly given away completely to darkness. “That’ll sting,” he whispered huskily.

“I know,” answered his lover. It appeared that pain was of no consequence to him, and neither was penetration. The Adonis fucked himself with the lip of the bottle, which continued to slosh and pour alcohol all over his ass and the desk. When the bourbon was emptied, he set it aside and reached around his ass and with both hands. He dug his index fingers into his hole, then bore down and stretched out his sphincter until it gaped red and ready.

At that point, Kyler became a single-minded drone for sex. He pressed his palm down into the puddle of liquor on the desk and methodically swept the liquid over his shaft. Then he aligned his cockhead up against the other man’s spread ass, and slowly began squeezing his way in. When he was seated about an inch inside, his lover stopped holding his hole open and instead used his hands to keep his legs spread.

Kyler’s body was burning; his cheeks were red hot, a sexual flush seared like a brand on his chest, and his stomach felt like heated coals from the inside out due to the alcohol. The sense of urgency in his balls and cock made his toes curl with every buck of his hips. He made his cockhead pop in and out of his lover’s ass, testing for tightness and purely for his own pleasure. Then he began to sink himself a little deeper with every push, up until the resistance inside the other’s body became too much.

What he was able to achieve in depth was more than enough. His lover directed him to his prostrate by angling his hips up from the desk, and then murmuring a quick “there” when Kyler’s cock entered at the right angle. From that point on, there was nothing but a blur of stinging pleasure and penetration. Kyler’s balls flapped against the desk with every snap of his hips, and his lover lorded over the motions of intercourse with responsive flexions of his hips and one hand working his cock to the tempo of their lovemaking.

The desk dragged against the floor and knocked the chair askew. Papers scattered on the floor soaked up spilled alcohol, and Kyler had to cling to the edges of the desk to keep from slipping and sliding. His moans were the melody to accompany the fap fap fap of flesh beating on flesh and his lover’s deep grunting. The Adonis’s face was twisted into a deep grimace of ecstasy, and he took Kyler’s cock as if they had ass-fucked for years.

Kyler’s orgasm shot out of him in a hot jet that flushed the other man’s intestines with white. His moaning gained in pitch, and then died into a sated sigh. He continued thrusting until he drained himself completely, and when his cock softened he popped the sensitive head in and out of his lover’s ass a few more times before withdrawing. Thick globs of cum stretched from his glans to his lover’s ass, which continued to gape and show the river of white inside.

Kyler was exhausted, and his legs felt like jelly. His caught his lover’s eyes, and the man flashed him a strange, triumphant smile. Kyler didn’t understand the reason behind it, but he was not one to leave a job halfway done. He leaned his elbows against the desk and took the other man’s cock into his mouth. He relaxed his face and let his lover fuck him to his hearts delight, until his tongue was flooded with sperm. It was swallowed quickly as per habit, and then he let the shaft slide out of his lips – but not without one last appreciative kiss to its blushing head.

They rested together in silence. There wasn’t much to say, they were strangers and it was a good fuck. Words were no longer necessary for them. Eventually they mutually decided to move from the desk to the couch, for now forgetting the mess that they had left behind. That is, if the mess was even real.

Kyler felt a twinge in his chest when he remembered that this was all supposed to be one insane dream. Still, it was definitely the answer to his writer’s block, because come morning he would be dutifully writing everything that happened on paper. Ironically, the very painting that put him in a financial hole was going to save him from losing his apartment. So it was with a smile of deep satisfaction that he rested his cheek against his lover’s chest and closed his eyes.


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The sun was unfairly bright the next day. Kyler woke up with a hangover, completely alone. His legs and thighs ached, which made him wonder if dreams had the capacity to strain his muscles. He groggily drew his eyes to The Temptation, and it was with a touch of disappointment that he saw that nothing was abnormal about it. The figure was still there, contemplating his apple.

Kyler had to peel himself from the couch. He smelled of sweat and cum, which made him wonder if he jacked himself off to sleep. His office desk was completely clean, with no indication that there had been any illicit activities the night before. In a way it was a shame, because it had been really great sex. Better than what he had with his current boyfriend.

Ah well, at least it would make a great story. With a shake of his head, Kyler went to the bathroom to take a shower. After a nice long spell with hot water and soap, he dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his waist. Then it was off to the bedroom to change, or at least, that was what he usually would have done. Instead, he stopped in his studio and stared. There was a stranger in his room, and he recognized him immediately.

“What the hell are you doing here?” demanded Kyler, completely in shock. Lo and behold, the man that he had sex with the night before was leaning against the window, wearing clothes that were definitely stolen from his bedroom closet.

“I spent a half hour cleaning jizz and booze from your desk. You should be more appreciative,” drawled the man. There was an apple in his hands, no doubt stolen from the kitchen, and he took a big bite out of it.

“But it was a dream,” said Kyler, his voice rising by the second. “Or was it? Or maybe I am still dreaming. Oh my god, I’m going insane.”

“Calm down,” said the Adonis from around the apple bits in his mouth. “It wasn’t a dream, I lied.”

“You lied?” repeated Kyler numbly. He couldn’t believe it. A normal lie couldn’t get him to sleep with someone who broke into his home. He knew what he saw, he knew what he believed. “No, you can’t be real, you came from that picture. You were gone from the painting, and you made the phones shut off, and –“

And the way he *felt* when they were together…

“You should consider checking your phone lines and your cell battery more often,” interrupted the man with a demure smile. He finally swallowed his apple piece and wiped the juice from his mouth. “You seem a bit obsessive about that painting. It looks normal to me.”

Kyler swiftly went to check his phones. Sure enough, the phone line was unplugged from the wall, as well as the extension cord of the battery charger for his cell phone. “You,” seethed Kyler. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end, “You used me, and,” realization made his eyes go wide, “I have a boyfriend!” A boyfriend that he had apparently cheated on.

“You finally have an excuse to dump that boring man,” said the stranger offhandedly. While Kyler gaped, he opened up the window, and the noise from the street outside filtered inside the studio. He found a pencil that had been trapped behind the window frame, and he idly picked it up for inspection.

Kyler didn’t know what to do. He was confused, afraid and angry. Although there were rational explanations for the strange phenomena of the night before, there was still the question of why the painting had been empty. The thought that he might be dealing with something supernatural or a very experienced con artist made him go pale. “Who are you?” he asked in a thin voice.

Before the man answered Kyler, he turned the pencil in his hands over and read the fine print etched on the edge of it. The following words were embedded in the wood: Made with 30% zinc.

With a smirk, the man finally answered Kyler, “My name is Zinc.” The newly self-named Zinc tucked the pencil behind his ear. “I really hated that apple.”

Somehow, Kyler knew that he wasn’t talking about the apple in the picture. Seeing Zinc now, bathed in the daylight, he understood the third layer of meaning of the painting. The Temptation couldn’t be found in the painting at all. It was here, on the outside, where things were real and true, and sometimes stung like alcohol on a wound.

The End.