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by Sean Michael
Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Romance
Description: Thirteen years ago, Marc did the right thing and left Pablo so his young lover could have the life he deserved. Now Marc is a successful, sought after artist. And he's blind. Pablo finally finds Marc again, and neither of them is willing to let go this time, so they begin to build a new life together. Second Sight is a moving, emotional story of how young love changes and grows into something that two very different men can share, learning to live their lives again after years of longing for each other, ultimately getting that happy ending they both hoped for so long ago.
eBook Publisher: Torquere Press, 2004 http://www.torquerepress.com
eBookwise Release Date: August 2004
208 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [534 KB]
Reading time: 364-510 min.
The wind blew hard and ice-cold up here. Marc imagined the building as silvery and sleek, swaying ever so slightly beneath his feet. He couldn't even smell the rotted fish, pissy old man's pants scent of the city from this high. What had Bev told him? Fifteen stories? Thirty? Thirty-five?
It hadn't felt real. He hadn't even known Pablo was there at first. Bev kept the list of people with press passes and he really didn't care much who came, who asked the endless questions. It was just a little tease--a showing of particular pieces of his newer series. It was easy--drinks and snacks and chat with the reporters, Bev had said. Look handsome, she said. Be talented, bright, witty Mac Allen and leave rumbly, nervous, skinny Marc MacAllen at home. It was supposed to be fun. It was supposed to be easy.
It wasn't supposed to tear a gash down the center of his life.
He slipped, wristwatch banging against the rail, barking out the ridiculously early time in the emotionless programmed voice that belonged on a spaceship or a computer or a commercial for men's razors. Piet barked and moved to push between him and the threat of open, empty sky, love overcoming obedience yet again.
Marc let Piet move him towards the building, kneeling down to pet the soft, silken fur gently. Piet groaned softly, wet tongue licking his chin, tail swishing against the concrete as it wagged.
It occurred to him that he didn't know what Pablo looked like, anymore than he could know the color of Piet's fur or Marge's eyes. That's when he knew the whole thing had been real, that Pablo had found him and gone again without even a handful of dead words.
When he fantasized about Pablo, he could see.
Piet's shoulders were steady and strong and supported him as he sobbed, his soft sounds drowned by the sounds of clinking glasses and dry laughter.