Hidden Desires

He pulls off his shirt and steps towards me. I inhale sharply, heating up as I stare into his bright mischievous eyes, waiting for him to make the next move. He leans over me, our faces close together, a slight smile playing on his lips, but then he draws back and I realise he was just putting his shirt on the bench behind me. I inwardly abuse myself for even thinking that it might happen. I mean, I...he'd never... His eyes leave mine and he turns away from me, back towards the cupboard underneath the sink, spanner in hand as he kneels down on the ground. Oh God...he's so... I watch him as he works, his fingers playing the tools as though he were making music with them. My eyes travel from his hands up his strong tanned arms, across his lithe slender back, taking in the way his muscles ripple at every small movement he makes. I walk around and pull myself up to sit on the kitchen bench beside where he is. What am I doing? He ducks out momentarily to look up at me with a quizzical expression on his face, so innocent, yet so sure of himself at the same time. His eyes catch mine and hold them there. I freeze. I can't move. I feel the sudden urge to just pull him up between my legs and kiss him, to feel his body against mine.

"Could you please pass me that?" he asks, pointing behind me. My hopes drop once again, and I hand him the strange looking metal contraption on the bench. He holds one end of the object and looks up at me. "Ah...could I...have it?" he asks, giving it a slight tug and grinning that killer smile up at me. Shit! I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out and I violently let go, almost throwing the thing at him in my panic to get it away from me. He laughs, shaking his head, before going back to work. He must really think I'm a dickhead now. He won't ever think about me the way I think about him. He'll never feel the uncontrollable desire, the aching need, the torture of being able to look but not touch. He doesn't know what he's doing to me, and it's slowly painfully killing me.

He lays down and rolls over onto his back. There are a few smudges of grease smeared on his chest, and a light film of sweat covers his body. Unconsciously I lean sideways, closer, my breathing deepening. Suddenly I'm feeling very light-headed. I imagine running my hand down his chest, feeling the smoothness of his skin beneath my fingers, imagine him shivering under my touch before pulling me to him and bringing his lips... Fuck! I jolt into reality as I feel his hand on mine. I look at him, his eyes intense and serious as he looks up into mine. His fingers move slightly on my hand and I look down, almost having a heart attack as I realise my hand is resting lightly on his chest. MY hand is on HIS chest! I wrench my eyes from his and try to pull my hand away, ready to run from the room, but he stops me, pressing my hand firmer against his skin. I can feel a rhythmic throbbing and for a moment I think it's me, but then I realise it's not just my heart thumping madly, it's his. What's going on?! I look at him again and suddenly he's standing up and I'm sitting upright once more, his hand firmly gripping mine. This can't be real. I'm dreaming - I know I am. I shake my head, trying to pull myself out of the fantasy, but nothing happens - he's still standing before me. He looks scared, apprehensive, and absolutely luscious.

He's looking at me, gradually inching closer, so slowly that I don't notice until I feel his stomach touch my knees. I'm breathing heavily, too loudly for my liking, but I instantly stop as I feel his hand on my face. I close my eyes, praying incoherently that it's real and not just another of my intensely realistic fantasies. I throw caution to the wind and open my eyes, finding his face only a few centimetres from mine. I notice that my legs are now apart, my feet hooked around the back of his legs, insistently bringing him in closer to my body. He feels incredible. I can't believe it's finally happening! I've wanted him for so long and now he notices! Tentatively at first, I bring my hand up and gently begin to stroke down his chest, just as I'd imagined doing a thousand times before. I feel his sharp intake of breath as my hand moves down and smile to myself, before stroking back up his body again and bringing both hands up to caress his already hardening nipples. I notice the deep rise and fall of his chest as his hands trail up my thighs, pulling my legs further apart and my body closer to his.

My hands travel around his waist to his back and he strokes my jawbone lightly, his hand moving to the back of my neck, caressing the soft hair so gently that it sends shivers all through my body. He looks into my eyes again - I can easily read the desire there and I can't believe it's real. I thought that he would never feel what I do for him, but now it's obvious that he does. I look at his sensuous perfectly formed lips, and unconsciously lick my own, my mind whirling at the thought that I was about to feel them on my own. I brush my thumb across them and his breathing shallows, and finally the pressure of his hand on the back of my neck increases and he begins to move me closer. I breath deeply, inhaling his aroma, and my eyes close, lips parted slightly as he brings his lips so close that I can almost feel them on mine. I'm just about to finally pull him in that final centimetre when he pulls away totally, laughing hysterically.

"You've gotta be kidding Pauly! I can't believe you let it go that far! I was ready to throw up just then!" He turns slightly, clutching at his stomach and chuckling loudly. "Did you get all that Tim?" he calls out, and Tim enters the room, grinning from ear to ear, video camera in hand.

"Sure did!" he exclaims, turning to me as Richard begins to put his shirt back on "That was classic mate...just classic!" My mouth is hanging open and I'm speechless. I feel like I've been betrayed. I feel hurt, miserable, angry, but mostly I feel empty. How could they do this to me? It's so cruel - so insensitive. Sure, they don't know how I really feel about Richard, but still... They think it's just a silly little game. If only they knew.

"You're gonna get sooooo much shit for this mate! You wait and see!" Richard grins, slapping Tim on the back as they walk from the room. I hear the doors open and slam shut, and the car back out the driveway before they drive off down the road. Tears are already pouring down my cheeks as I sob in despair. 'Richie I love you, why are you such a bastard to me?' I would do anything for him, anything, but I can't take this anymore. I hate what he's doing to me. It hurts...hurt...hurt...hurt...all the time.

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The shiny chrome metal glints in the moonlight as I run it along my fingertips. I watch, mesmerised as the spidery patterns of red flow from the thin slits across my arms and hands. I smile. This is real beauty. Richard was just a deception of it. This...this is what I want, not him. I love this. I look down at my naked body and draw a smiley face with my index finger across the numerous cuts etched all over my skin. It looks like me. I snake the blade up and down my chest, leaving snail trails in intricate patterns over my mouth and eyes. I need a nose. A nice long thin nose like I've always wanted. I hold my treasure out in front of me before plunging it deep, then pulling out. I smile in satisfaction as the dark fluid oozes from my face. It looks like I have a blood nose. I giggle as I realise I have a beard. But what's this below it? Don't need that there. I dispose of the offensive object, throwing it on top of the pile of clothes in the middle of the kitchen floor. The red liquid is running out onto the bench, dripping down the cupboards into a rapidly growing pool on the floor. I wonder who will be the first person to see my masterpiece? My eyes roll back in my head and I sink into nothingness.