AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ah, Damon. Sighs So freaking wild. Thanks for the reviews. Now here's chapter two.

Chapter 2

Damon ghosted his hands all over the sexy stranger's chest as he explored his mouth. This one was built solid and firm. And so cute! When he'd landed in America the week before, he wasn't sure what to expect from the locals. But Boston was turning out to be quite a fun place. For the most part. He sighed ruefully as he remembered the first man he'd hit on when he came to the club the night before – a tall strapping model-type with tinted blue hair and jet black eyes. What an idiot! The man had the gall to look affronted. Why come to a gay dance club if you don't want the attention? Damon had asked him that very question, and was lucky enough to have the reflexes to duck the punch.

Well, he couldn't expect everyone to accept him, he supposed. Just under a week out of his homeland in Australia and his feelings on the matter were still fairly mixed. Not that he had any family to miss him anyway. Well, none that would miss him, rather. His mother and stepfather were quite alive, as were his sisters, though none of them would notice or care that he'd gone. He'd debated notifying them before he left but he thought better of it. Actually, his best friend, James, had talked him out of it. But he was right. What would they care, anyway? And who else would need to contact him? James and his partner, Mitch, had Damon's details, and he'd promised to call them as soon as he settled into a permanent place.

He'd also told his other friend, Terry where he was going, though he was hoping that Terry's partner, Jamie, Damon's ex's best friend, didn't tell Brett. The last thing Damon wanted was to hurt the man again. When Brett had broken down the last time they'd seen each other, Damon had never felt so guilty. Four years was a long time to be together. The longest, serious relationship Damon had ever had. Brett deserved so much more than a man who couldn't love him anymore.

The musings were killing the mood and Damon pushed them aside to concentrate on the delicious piece of masculinity he was pressing himself into. Trent gasped again and Damon was loving every minute of this sensual dance they were performing. The guy was so responsive. Trent reached up and pressed his hands to Damon's waist, squeezing him closer.

"Easy, now," Damon chuckled. "We've got the whole night ahead of us."

"We do?" Trent panted.

"Unless you just want a quickie," Damon shrugged. "But you're so fucking hot, I want to take my time."

Trent's hazel eyes seemed glazed over as he stared up at Damon. He hesitated a second before reaching a hand up slowly, wonderingly tracing Damon's stubbly chin and nodding.

"But here?"

Damon laughed at Trent's question. Oh, if he weren't so jaded this one might be a keeper. He then pushed that thought to the back of his mind with the others and shrugged.

"I'd prefer a more private setting," he looked around. "I'm still new in town and don't want to be arrested just yet."

Trent smirked at him then eased them both up so that he was sitting with Damon on his lap. Strong, too, Damon grinned to himself.

"Your place then?" Trent asked, not really knowing how this all worked. But he was tired of waiting for the right man to come along. Maybe a one-night-stand was exactly what he needed to loosen up, as Matt had ordered him to do.

"Dunno," the sexy Australian replied just before he latched his hot lips back onto Trent's neck. "How do you feel about doing it in a youth hostel?"

Unfortunately his classes didn't start for another three weeks, as the Christmas holidays were coming up. And Damon didn't want to waste any of his limited supply of money on an expensive hotel when he could do just fine with a small bed while he looked for an affordable flat. After all, the money was for his education. He'd need to somehow find and maintain a job when it eventually ran out. Shit was so expensive in America.

"I don't think that would be conducive to the mood," Trent whispered, sucking in another gasp as Damon found an erogenous zone. "I sh-share an apartment with a couple of friends. It not huge, but I h-have my own bedroom." He lolled his head back as Damon's expert lips and fingers continued to explore him. "L-let me j-just tell them I'm leaving."

Damon snickered as he allowed Trent to move him off his lap and stand up, having to take a moment to regain some of his composure before he winked and walked back to the dance floor. I've still got it, Damon thought.

"There he is," Matt nodded over Brian's shoulder. "Where'd you disappear to?"

Trent smirked lazily back and Matt could only think two things. One, his stepbrother was d-r-u-n-k, and that wasn't an altogether bad thing considering his normally monk-like lifestyle. And two, his rumpled clothing and red lips further indicated he'd found someone interesting. That was also good, as he'd begun to worry that Trent was intentionally shutting himself off. Ever since that jerk Jake had played around with him that summer only to drop him, Trent hadn't shown any interest in finding someone else.

"Who is he," Matt asked with a smirk of his own.

Trent grinned and motioned his head to the back of the club where a dark haired guy sat alone in one of the booths. Matt studied him for a while, noting the masculine frame, though he was lean. Not Trent's usual taste, but he was pretty hot, though Matt wasn't going to say so out loud. His own little beauty still had so many insecurities and he didn't want to hurt Brian's feelings.

"Not bad," the small blonde grinned. "But don't you think it's a little soon for action?"

Trent frowned briefly then gave the small boy a tiny swat on the shoulder.

"Matt said to loosen up," he smiled. "Anyway, who said anything about a relationship."

"A one-nighter?" Brian hissed. "Trent, no offense but do you really want your first real experience to be so …" he floundered blushing profusely.

Trent sighed. He knew his friend would be overprotective, as usual. Brian had somehow decided it was his life's work to make sure Matt's brother found someone suitable to settle down with. Not that Trent would complain if he did, but he was sure that if it was meant to happen it would do so when the time was right. And he was still in his early twenties, for Pete's sake. Why couldn't he just have a meaningless fling like everyone else seemed to be doing? Okay, everyone but his friends, who all seem to have coupled in high school and college and stayed that way. Stupid fate!

"Temporary?" the tall man supplied helpfully. "Yes, I think I do."

"But …"

"Stop worrying, Precious," Matt cut in. He knew why Trent was so frustrated. They'd talked about it before. "He's twenty-three. It's time to cut the apron strings."

"But …"

"Shh!" Matt pressed his lips briefly to Brian's and smiled at the now-scowling blonde. Then he turned to his brother. "I left you something in your nightstand drawer."

"What?" Trent asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Safe sex," Matt shrugged and grinned as he danced Brian away.

Trent flushed but hurried back to Damon before the hot man changed his mind or found someone else. How many more hot Australians was he going to find in Boston, anyway? He guessed not many so he was going to take this opportunity while he had it.

"Hey, why the red face?" the amused man asked when he got back to the booth.

"Nothing," Trent grinned. "You ready?"

"You have no idea how ready," Damon laughed as he hopped out of the booth and followed Trent to the door.

On the way Trent handed the coat check attendant his ticket and shrugged into the heavy leather jacket he was given.

"Where's yours?" he asked Damon.

"Oh, this is it," he replied as he looked down at his sweater with a smile.

"No coat?" Trent looked appalled. "In Boston? In December?"

"I haven't had time to buy one yet," Damon shrugged. "And the one I had at home seemed to have gone missing before I left. Besides, it's summer there now. I just didn't think."

Trent took his hand in his own and walked quickly to the curb to hail a cab. Once he had one, he pushed Damon inside to the relative heat.

"Well, when we get to my place, I'm giving you one," he said as he scooted in behind the Australian.

"You don't have to."

"You can't walk around Boston in December in a sweater. Not even for a day."

Damon smiled and leaned his head back on the seat as Trent gave the driver his address. Ah, this one made up for the prick he'd met the night before. He was really looking forward to taking his time tonight.