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A Little Help

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"Brett, you've got to help me," Danny said, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him into a back hallway at the hotel.

"What's wrong?" Brett asked with concern. He looked over Danny's shoulder as Danny glanced around. "Is someone following you?"

"Yes!" Danny pulled Brett even closer, and leaned in so he could whisper to him. "She's coming."


"Lady Pamela! She's a barracuda."

"Daniel," Brett smirked. "My dear boy, you're an international playboy. You're rich and single."

"And I'd like to stay that way."

"Well, there's really only one solution."

"You'll hide me?" Danny caught a glimpse of the Lady Pamela sashaying towards them, her bright pink bathing suit shining like a gumball beneath her flimsy cover-up.

"Better," Brett said, and slid his hand up to grip the back of Danny's neck. His fingers curled in Danny's dark hair, and he caught a glimpse of surprised blue eyes before their lips met. Brett expected Danny to allow it—better him than Lady Pamela, surely—but he didn't expect to find Danny pressing him back against the wall, hands fitting to his hips and pulling him closer.

Brett dared to nudge the fullness of Danny's bottom lip with his tongue, and Danny opened up to him immediately, mouth warm and faintly spicy. It was how he'd imagined it would be, familiar and exhilarating at the same time, and Danny had clearly gotten past his shock because now he was eagerly returning each kiss, teasing Brett with tongue and teeth. He barely heard the "Well, I never—" in a clipped London accent as Lady Pamela fled the scene.

"I doubt she'll be bothering you anymore," Brett said when they broke apart, a little breathless. He felt flushed, and he could feel the heat gathering in his cheeks as Danny continued to stare at him.

"Are you going to try to pass that off as an act for the lady?" Danny asked carefully. His tone was guarded, and Brett slid an arm around Danny's waist, keeping him close. He smiled.

"I know better than that, Daniel."

"Good," Danny grinned, and leaned in to kiss Brett again.