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The hand tugged at the fabric.
Half a dozen thoughts crowded Will’s mind. He was afraid of what would happen if he kept going. He was afraid of letting the opportunity slip him by.
Opportunity for what?
He couldn’t look directly at that. Had barely ever thought about something like this outside of his bed at night with his hand wrapped around himself.
Shit.
He needed to be logical about this. If–if he got up and walked home right now, he could be at his trailer in twenty minutes. He’d have to jimmy his key into the old, shitty lock to get in, and then he’d scarf the cold can of beans for dinner, strip out of his wet clothes, and collapse onto the lumpy futon. He’d have a night of restless, sweaty sleep, and nothing else magical or spectacular or terrifying would happen to him.
Tomorrow Will would work another long shift with angry customers. He’d go home at the end of the day, eat whatever remnant of food was left, and do it all over again. Another day, another week, another meager paycheck that barely covered all his expenses.
Will would never know what would’ve happened if he’d stayed. If he’d–he’d let this strange, otherworldly being touch him more.
He met its eyes. It was looking at Will straight on.
Will couldn’t remember the last person who’d met his eyes willingly. Or man, rather. Becky seemed just fine looking at him.
There was a knot in his throat. Will wanted this, ached for it, even if it came from something monstrous. He wanted someone to look at him, touch him, want him.
What did that make him?
The hand tugged again on the fabric of his jeans. Asking, not demanding.
Will took a shaky breath. It was yes or it was no.
He reached for the button on his jeans.
Chapter 4
Will undid the button on his jeans and then fumbled down the zip. He scrambled to his feet to shuck his shoes and pants off, shutting out every alarm bell ringing in his head.
His cheeks burned, but for once–for once–he just wanted to do the risky thing. Wanted to grab for the desire everyone had told him he couldn’t have. Give himself over to the rotten, monstrous thing that lived inside him.
His clothes fell into a wet pile in the water behind him. He kneeled back down, this time naked, almost shaking from the want and fear tangled up inside him. Adrenaline was singing through his veins. He could hardly believe himself.
The dark eyes watched him, steady and calm. They were the only steady thing. The scaled hand returned, setting gently on his hip, and that helped. The skin to skin was like a lifeline. Like the edges of a dream, made real.
The hand curled, tightening its hold, and Will gasped. The second hand found his other side. It held him in place.
His trembling lessened.
They stared at each other for a good, long moment. Will tried to put all his hopes and fears onto his face, to try and convey them beyond the language barrier.
He wanted–wanted–
Oh god, everything. Too much.
Then the creature tilted his head down, and looked at the rest of Will.
Despite his summer tan, Will knew he was glowing in the dark, pale in comparison to the darker scales. Between his legs, Will’s cock jutted up, obvious and flushed. He had the compulsion to put his hands over himself. To hide.
A strand of the creature’s hair brushed Will’s bare shoulder. He wanted to touch it. Wanted to touch him.
Could he?
The hands on his hips started moving inward. They found and traced the line of darker hair down Will’s center. He laughed in sudden ticklishness, but did his best to keep his teeth behind his lips.
