Fear. Excitement. Longing. So overwhelming was the feeling of the stranger’s hand upon his chest that he had to close his eyes and catch his breath. His skin burned with the heat of the man’s hand, even through the material of his shirt, through his skin, way down under his ribs. His heart caught in his throat as his back hit the cold brick wall behind him. He felt hot fingers against his hand and let it be moved to cup the man’s cheek. He opened his eyes, and felt something like a punch right to his gut when he met the other’s gaze. He knew with an intense certainty that no one had ever looked at him like that before. Not the girls who’d claimed to love him once upon a time, not the men he’d tumbled into bed with.
“I promise,” he breathed, then bit his own lip. What was he saying? Who was this man? Why should Renly agree to anything, promise him anything? This man who meant nothing to him… didn’t he? “H-how do I know you?”
Of course, that was ridiculous. Impossible. He was caught up in the moment, in the moonlight, in the soft silk of the man’s skin against his palm. I don’t know you.