“Listen to the breath of the rain."They were silent for a minute. Dillon closed his eyes and tried to grasp at what Hunter experienced. Hunter moved closer and put the heat of his breath in Dillon's ear. "I want you to make love to me by the rhythm of the rain," he whispered.”
“I had these made special. The design is raised instead of carved in. Can you feel it?" Dillon asked.Hunter ran his fingertip over the outside of the ring. He nodded as a tear formed in the corner of his eye."Can you tell me what it is?" Dillon asked quietly.Hunter nodded and his voice choked. "Two people…""Two men," Dillon corrected."Two men," Hunter said, "pulling each other into the center of a circle."Dillon watched his single tear slip and start sliding down his cheek. "Would you step into that circle with me, Hunter?"Hunter nodded, a small sound escaping him. "Yes.”
“Snow is kind of weird," Dillon said. "It's so slow, drifts a little here and there, and it doesn't make much noise," he said as he looked at Hunter. "I think I want to skip the symphony," he added as he untied Hunter's tie and slipped it from around his neck. " I would like very much for us to stay in and see if you can match its rhythm. What do you think?”
“Hunter turned and kissed Dillon deeply before he rinsed off. He had never wished for his sight before, but he would have given anything at that moment to be able to turn and witness the beauty of the man that had just made love to him. He'd literally felt the change in Dillon's grip as he made love.The very first time they were together, Dillon's hold was uncertain, a tentative embrace that held no absolutes, no dreams, but just now it was different; it was a grip that sat right on the edge of possession, a possession Hunter would willingly give, if asked.But would Dillon ask, and would he be able to accept?”
“Give me the gun." Michael put a hand out, his voice soft.Tension rode on the sunlight as she listened to Hunter's breathing shake."It's okay," said Michael. "You don't want to do this."Inch by inch, Hunter lowered the gun into Michael's palm, finally letting go.Michael didn't move. "You alright?"Hunter nodded."Good." Michael wrapped his hand around the hilt.Then he lifted it, cocked the hammer, and put the barrel against Hunter's forehead. "Now where the f*** are my brothers?”
“He tilts his forehead down to rest against mine and pulls me closer. His skin, his whole being radiates heat from being so near the fire, and I close my eyes, soaking in his warmth. I breathe in the smell of snow-dampened leather and smoke and apples, the smell of all those wintry days we shared before the Games. I don't try to move away. Why should I anyway? His voice drops to a whisper. "I love you." That's why.”