He pushed into the kitchen of the restaurant, needing a moment to breathe. All of the employees knew him so no one even bat an eye at his presence.

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, or really why he had been expecting anything at all, but this… “Mitchell” guy that Kirstie had pointed out was just … wrong. One look at his face and he was flooded with a heavy disappointment that was completely irrational! The man was gorgeous and impeccably dressed, but he wasn’t right. He felt a sharp ache in his heart and he wondered if he had finally, officially lost his damn mind.

“Hey, what happened? Are you ok?!” Kirstie, of course, hadn’t been too far behind him.

“I’m just" he took a deep breath trying think of words to voice his own psychotic break. "I needed a second.”

“You didn’t even give him a chance! At least meet him before you freak out. You can't tell me he isn't attractive! If he was even remotely interested in women I would have been all over that!”

"It's not that." 

“Hey, guys.”  Avi appeared in the doorway.  “What’s going on?”

Scott let out a sigh as he looked at his best friend. This restaurant/bar that was currently packed to capacity had been Avi's dream since he could even remember. He’d heard nothing but rave reviews about the food and the entire atmosphere of “Draconem” was turning out to be quite a hit. This was Avi's night and he was about to abandon him. No. He needed to suck it up and stick this out. 

“You know how I get when there are crowds. I'll be ok in a bit.” He knew his best friend could see right through him.

“If you need to go, it’s ok.” He seemed almost amused, probably surprised that Scott had lasted as long as he had. 

“I’m really sorry, Avi.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m a neurotic mess right now anyway. We can go out and celebrate this weekend.”

“Count on it.” He gave a nervous smile, hurrying out and completely ignoring Kirstie’s protests. He just couldn’t do this right now.

Once showered and in his sweats he looked around at all of the boxes he’d still yet to unpack. Moving house was turning out to be quite time consuming. He knew sleep wouldn’t find him any time soon so he busied himself sorting and arranging things. After three hours and many boxes later he finally pulled out a familiar black shoe box. He’d had quite a few memory blackouts when he was younger, usually alcohol induced, and he wasn’t really sure where these things had come from, but he just couldn’t bring himself to throw any of it away.

He carried the box back to his bed, sitting crosslegged on the comforter as he dumped the contents out in front of him.

Such a strange assortment of items, among them two emerald green stones- one shaped like a 7 pointed star and the other a perfect sphere, a roughly cut piece of some kind of parchment with what he guessed to be a water colored moth or butterfly painted flawlessly on it, a dagger whose blade he thought may be made of hematite and its handle of pearl. He’d tried to have the engraved writing on the blade translated, but no linguist could determine what it was and said it may just be gibberish. Then there was the black drawstring pouch with the embroidered gold patterns. Inside was a gorgeous purple bottle, the liquid inside glittering like those pictures of space you sometimes see.  

He ran his fingers over the glass, letting his fingers trace the swirly dips and curves of it. He got up and put it on his dresser. If nothing else it was quite the conversation piece. He took the other items and scattered them about as simple decoration, except for the dagger. The dagger he slid back into it’s onyx colored sheath and placed it under his pillow.

Drunk shopping?… It’s all he could ever come up with.

He lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, wondering what in the world was wrong with him. Why couldn’t he be happy? Why couldn’t he find that someone who could show him how to feel something more than the ever present longing for something he wasn’t even aware of.  What was he searching for? What was he missing?

Finally he drifted off.

___

“Be careful!”

“I’m not going to cut my fingers off if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Scott, it’s incredibly sharp! If I had known you were going to be reckless with it I wouldn’t have given it to you.”

He laughed and walked over to a nearby tree next to a big boulder.

“What are you doing?” The alarm in his voice was obvious.

“Leaving our mark.”

“You’re hurting it!”

“It’s a tree.”

“Your trees don’t have feelings?” He placed his hand on the rough bark where an S had already been carved. “How strange.”

He laughed and continued his work.  “There. Now this will always be our place.” He stood back to admire the carved heart that surrounded the letters. 

   S+M
4Always

“Well, if I’d known you were going to destroy trees with it I would have given you something else for your birth anniversary.”

“Well, I love it. It makes me feel all badass.”

The golden eyed man laughed and it was so adorable that he couldn't help but pull him into his arms.

“I love you.”

Those gold eyes looked up at him, a mixture of shock and awe. “Y-you... “

“I love you. You make me feel warm and happy. I'm always thinking of you even when we're so far apart. No other guy even comes close to you. You’re all I want.”

“You’re only 16. There is no way you know what you want already.”

“You’re only 16. Your eyes don’t really change color anymore. They’re almost always gold.”

He blinked shyly and tried to hide them, but fingers turned his chin back up and their eyes met again. “You’re in love with me too. That’s why they’re gold. It’s attraction… love.”

“How is this ever going to work?” The beautiful man whispered, a hint of fear in his voice. 

He trailed his fingers over his cheek and up to glide along the base of his ear and then to the very pointed tip. It caused golden eyes to close and a relaxed sigh of content to escape his lips.

“I’m never letting you go. Ever. I love you so much. ”  Warmth spread through him as he pressed their mouths together, pulling his body against his own. 

He shot up in bed, heart pounding. It had felt so real, the warmth, the fluttering of his heart. A whispered, "I love you, Scott" ringing in his ears like an echo. 

He knew what he needed to do to get answers.  He needed to go home.