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Disclaimer: The story herein is fiction. Fiction is defined as being the following: A lie. A literary work whose content is produced by the imagination and is not necessarily based on fact. Please don't take these stories as truth. No harm or disrespect is intended by any of the fiction contained here.

James chewed on ice. His fist opened, stretching his hand, then closed tightly once again. He squeezed his eyes shut, tried to control his breathing.

Then he felt a slim, warm hand slip up under his shirt. His eyes flew open, and he knocked the chair over when he quickly jumped up.

He grabbed the arm attached to that hand and slammed the owner against the wall. "You little fucking tease."

A smirk silenced him. James breath was thick as his smug lover drew the moment out. Lars spoke slowly and deliberately, "I found all my lubricants today."

James spit out the cracked ice cubes.

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