My palms were sweaty. I couldn't believe how nervous I was. //It's just a guy, Hayes. Relax.// But I couldn't relax. I'd been a bundle of nerves since Chris had called to confirm our next rehearsal session at 4pm today. It was only 3 and already I'd tidied the entire apartment, then selectively messed up areas of it to hide it's overly tidiness and changed my outfit three times trying to get that 'just thrown on' look. So much for relaxing.

By the time Chris rocked up I was beginning to wonder if I could still speak or if when I opened my mouth nothing but a jumble of nonsensical syllables would tumble out. //Only one way to find out.//

"Hey." I greeted as I opened the door. //So far so good.//

"Hey Hayesy." Chris threw back a little too casually with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and a glance that didn't quite find my face. He strolled into my apartment, guitar case slung across his back, and slumped onto my couch.

He was putting the guitar aside as I sat down next to him. I couldn't help but notice him flinch when our knees brushed. //Not good.//

"So what's the plan for today?" I asked, my voice sounding bright to the point of falseness.

"We should probably work on a hook." He finished settling the guitar and finally looked at me. The shock of eye to eye contact with him stole my breath away. Chris seemed to react too, looking kinda like he'd lost his train of thought. "That is, if you want to." He stammered finally when I didn't appear to be answering.

"Ummmm, yeah that sounds good." God where had this awkwardness come from? We'd been doing so well yesterday and now I felt like permanently cringing. I brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes and let my hand drop down to my side on the couch. En route it brushed Chris' thigh. It wasn't an intentional touch, but Chris' head whipped up and I swear he just about leapt of the couch.

"You okay mate?" I asked carefully, registering shock in skittish blue eyes.

"Yeah, yeah fine." He rushed dismissively, moving away from me slightly under the pretense of getting his guitar.

"Uh uh." I made a prohibitive noise and very deliberately reached up and placed my hand on his shoulder. He just about leapt out of his skin. "That's not fine." I demurred. //Most definitely not fine.//

He stared at me apprehensively, trying very hard to affix a blank look on his face, but I could see cracks in his mask. The boy was scared.

"Whaddaya mean?" He was still playing stupid.

"Chris knock it off alright. You're freaking out. Admit it." My fingers squeezed his shoulder and again a tremor seemed to go through him.

"I'm not."

"You are."

I put my other hand on his knee. He jumped up off the couch.

"See?" I challenged him. He ignored me and started pacing. I knew it wouldn't take long before watching him go back and forth would start to drive me crazy so I jumped up and grabbed him by the arm (even though it made him jump again.)

"What?" He bellowed, his voice ringing with frustration.

"Chris, what's wrong?" I asked point blank.

"I don't know!" He sighed, raking a hand through his neon hair with obvious annoyance. Unthinking, I reached out a hand to comfort him but he sprang back from me before I could make contact. "I'm sorry." He said when I paused mid-motion. "I can't help it."

I felt so bad. I mean, there he was all scared and confused and it was all my fault. I had to try and do something to put him at ease with all this.

"Chris sit down." I instructed him. His skittish pacing was making me nervy.

We settled back on the couch and I took a deep breath.

"Ok, now you're obviously having some issues. It's about last night right?" He barely nodded, refusing to meet my eyes like a teenager getting a lecture from the olds. "Well from what I remember, last night was great. I had a really good time and I hope you did too. But Chris if you're not comfortable with any of that, we don't have to do it again." It hurt to say it. I really really wanted to put Chris at ease, but I hated the idea that I might never get to kiss him again. "I'd never try to force you into anything."

"Yeah, I know." He barely grunted, looking a little ashamed.

"But we do have to deal with this phobia you seem to have developed."

"What?"

"This irrational fear you seem to have about being touched. Now do you react this way to everyone or is it just me?"

At first he didn't answer. I think he wanted to keep pretending he was fine and all this talk was stupid, but I just kept on waiting for an answer, looking earnest until he finally spoke.

"It's ah, just you." He grunted, not meeting my eyes.

"Well that's a start." I gave him a wry grin, though I doubt he saw it as the corner of his Clash t-shirt seemed to be commanding his complete attention at the time. "Now I'm not gonna jump you, but I am gonna put my hand on your leg alright?" His head came up then, eyes dancing with panic. "We're not gonna get anything done if we can't even be in the same room without you wigging out." I explained.

His expression didn't change for a few moments, I think he was trying to get used to the idea, but finally he nodded. I gave him a small reassuring smile and lifted my hand.

I watched his face carefully as my fingers made contact with the soft denim of his jeans. He didn't jump this time, in fact he appeared to be concentrating very hard on *not* reacting. It was adorable.

"See, that wasn't so bad." I smiled reassuringly, trying to ignore the unfamiliar tingling sensation rushing up my arm at the entirely superficial contact we were sharing. Unwittingly I began to move my hand up and down his leg, stroking my palm over the worn material. I didn't really register the movement until I noticed Chris reacting to it. He sucked in a breath, the air hissing through his teeth and looking as if it was taking every ounce of willpower he possessed to keep perfectly still. I didn't still the movement of my hand, continuing to lazily stroke up his leg, enjoying the warmth beneath my fingers.

I kept up my movements, not changing my pattern, only touching that one part of his leg and eventually he seemed to accept it. I felt some of the tension leaking from him. Now instead of jumping about like a nervy cat, he was sinking slowly back into the couch, eyes sliding half closed. I'd almost be tempted to say he was enjoying it.

He didn't flinch when I added another hand to the mix, placing my left hand on his other knee, circling his kneecap with my thumb. Slowly, always slowly. A glance at his face confirmed he wasn't freaking out, in fact he had the expression of a sleepy cat, all soft lines and half closed eyes.

"Is this ok?" I asked softly, my fingers continuing their never-ceasing journey across his clothed flesh.

"Mmm hmmm." He sighed seeming very *very* relaxed with it all now. Then I said something I didn't think I'd have the balls to say.

"Now you touch me." I murmured softly. //Darren what are you doing? Trying to seduce him?//

Apparently I was.