Farewell from the Bookshelf!

Please note that GLBT Bookshelf -- the community wiki which was the parent to this fiction blog -- went offline on May 31, 2016, after seven years' service to members.

All Gay Romance will remain online till the end of 2016 in order to give contributors every opportunity to recover materials uploaded here.

Many thanks to all who contributed over the years, and good luck to everyone in your future works!


From Morocco to Paris

Blurb: Zane Reed dreams of being a director, but first he has to learn the ropes by taking every crap job in the movie industry. Employed as personal assistant to actor Elliot Butler, Zane hopes to further his education when Elliot works with famed director Saul Brennan. However, Zane gets an education in something else entirely when he meets Davey Alexander, one of the production’s costumers.

Davey, vivacious and erotically-charged, shakes reluctant, sexually-confused Zane down to his core. The two begin a torrid affair that leaves Zane wrestling with demons from his past as much as wrestling with Davey in the sheets. During filming, from Morocco, to Cairo, to Paris, the two struggle with desire and muddled emotions. In the end, Zane will have to overcome–and define–himself, if he wants to keep the most intriguing, passionate man he’s ever known from walking out of his life.

The lights of the city stretched out in the distance, fading toward the shadowy mountains on the horizon that arched against the blackened sky. Zane stood at the window, the cool night air on his skin, a forgotten cigarette burnt to the filter in his hand. He heard shifting on the bed behind him, then the sound of feet slapping on the floor. Hands slid over his chest, a warm body pressed to his back.

“This suits you,” Davey murmured.

Zane wore his djellaba, fastened only at the waist. He shifted, noticed the cigarette, and ground the butt out in the ashtray on the windowsill.

“So I’ve been told,” Zane said.

Davey roamed his hands lazily over Zane’s chest, over the djellaba, beneath the soft folds.

“I’ll miss this place too,” Zane said softly. “I’ve never been anywhere more beautiful.”

“Me either.” Davey’s warm breath seeped through the fabric over Zane’s shoulder.

Davey quit moving his hands and rested one lightly on Zane’s chest, over his heart. They were silent for a few minutes, the stillness broken only by the sound of the wind and the subdued noises of the midnight city.

“Davey,” Zane finally said softly. “I can’t do this, you know I can’t.”

“Why?” Davey asked, just as softly.

Zane felt panicked now, having his emotional barriers kicked down. “I’m too scared. Of the future. Of the past. I just…can’t. This isn’t how it was supposed to
be. It was never supposed to go this far.”

“But it has.”

“But I can’t take it any further, Davey. Sex is fine, but things are getting complicated.” Even as he said these words, trying to make them sound confident, his heart twisted.

Davey was silent a moment then he said, “It doesn’t matter.” He rested his cheek on Zane’s shoulder, and his voice vibrated against his back. “You do what you need to, and I’ll endure it. I’m not asking anything of you.”

“That makes me a horribly selfish person. It’s not fair to you.”

“Unrequited love is as old as humanity.” Davey lifted his head and removed his hand from Zane’s chest. “You’re not doing anything that hasn’t been done by a
million people before you.”

Zane tried to turn but Davey stopped him, playing with his hair.

“And people have gotten over it since the beginning of time,” Davey said. He tugged Zane’s hair gently and released him. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head over it.”

Zane turned and watched Davey walk back to the bed, his bed, watched him crawl under the covers.

“Davey, I just — ”

“Stop talking about it. Everything will be all right; I’ll make sure of it.”

The dull light through the windows glowed softly on Davey’s face, and he smiled before settling down. No invitation to come to bed, no entreaty. Simply a bare pillow and an open spot Zane could take or leave as he chose.

Zane stood at the window a while longer, not looking at the city but with his hand over his eyes, elbow resting on the wall. Tomorrow, Cairo and the end of their crazy, exotic romp, if he had any say. Soon he’d have his head about him again, concentrating on his work, concentrating on his education. Soon he could go back to sleeping alone, instead of crawling into bed with Davey.

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