Chapter 1

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Under the bright, pulsing lights of the nightclub, his gaze scanned the room. He was hunting that night, yearning for someone interesting to take his mind off the irritating details of his current life. So far, after sitting nursing one beer for nearly half an hour, not a single man had caught his eye. Everyone seemed so... plain.

"Not having much luck tonight, are you, mate?" the bartender sympathized, his thick Northern English accent slowly grating on Kyree's nerves.

"Doesn't look like it," Kyree's voice was much silkier, his accent American and his pronunciation creating a softer, smoother tone.

"Well, 'ere, this might get your motor going," the bartender filled a small shot glass with what looked like vodka and slid it in front of Kyree, "on the house," he added when Kyree cocked an eyebrow. With a small shrug, Kyree knocked back the shot, coughing a little as the strong liquid burned the back of his throat.

"Steady on there, big boy, the night is young," a different voice, laced with a seductive tone, drifted into Kyree's ear as a man sat opposite him, grazing his hand over Kyree's knee. Now, this had been what Kyree was searching for.

Although the lighting in that particular establishment was pretty damn atrocious, Kyree could easily see the swirling greyish blue of the man's eyes, filled to the brim with mystery and intrigue. His dark, straight locks were moulded to perfection, styled just enough to look messy yet not out of place.

"And my night just got a whole lot better, can I buy you a drink perchance?" the man gladly accepted Kyree's offer, ordering some sort of hilariously named and complicated to make cocktail. Kyree liked the man's lips, full and luscious, curved in just the right way to portray both a smirk and a soft smile. He would prefer to see them a little lower than eye level though.

"I'm Ambrose," the man held out his hand which Kyree happily grasped. They both had equally strong handshakes, but Kyree concluded that Ambrose had much softer hands, the hands of someone who didn't partake in a lot of manual labour. He couldn't help imagining how his hands would feel against his skin elsewhere, just the thought was getting him a little too excited.

"Kyree. Ambrose, like from the bible? Heavenly food or something along those lines?"

"Yes," Ambrose tilted his head to the side just a fraction, a hint of shock and bemusement flickering across his face, "I wouldn't have thought a man like you would have known much about the bible."

"A man like me?" it was Kyree's turn to convey confusion as he sipped the beer he had barely touched and was no longer interested in.

"Gay, I mean, not a lot of homosexuals are religious. I certainly am not," Kyree chuckled softly, causing those beautiful lips of Ambrose's to curve even further into a warmer smile.

"How do you know I'm gay?"

"You're in a gay bar, for one, and..." Ambrose leant in close, brushing his fingertips over Kyree's thigh and lowering his volume to a whisper, "you got pretty damn hard the second I walked over," Kyree clicked his tongue quietly, a wicked smirk forming on his own lips.

"You got me there, but since you admit my state of arousal is all down to you, it would only be fair if you took care of it," Kyree suggested, taking his turn to stroke his fingertips down the velvet skin of Ambrose's arm. Ambrose swayed his head left to right a few times as if lost in thought and contemplating Kyree's offer, even though Kyree could clearly see the smirk he was attempting to suppress.

"Tempting, but I just met you, isn't that a little bit dangerous?" Kyree chuckled, a little more sinister this time.

"Who doesn't love a bit of danger?" Kyree rose to his feet, throwing down a couple of notes to pay for the drinks, not really caring about change, just aching to be alone with Ambrose, "you coming then? Be a devil, take the risk, I promise I'm not a murderer."

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