Free Love is Blindness by Sean Michael

Chapter One
    Latte in one hand, Kerouac in the other. Jamie and Lindsey arguing magical realism next to him, Ben sneaking a joint on the other side and periodically giving him long, quiet drags from that soft mouth.
    Man, Kieran Loughlin thought, Friday nights were the best.
    One of his students—some heavy-set chick with curly red hair and a whiskey-colored voice—was up at the mic, doing a damned good job of slamming. The subject matter was a little boring—how many pre-menstrual, blood-soaked pseudo-prayers to the joys of womanhood and Kali could any man appreciate?
    Still, the metaphors didn’t suck.
    The doors opened, letting in the cold, late fall air. It was unusual for anyone to show up mid-slam, so it couldn’t be a regular.
    Three goths came in, all girls, with a tall man in the midst of them. He was dressed all in black with dark hair and a pale, pale face. There was something that set him apart from his black-clad, white-faced companions. As if they were playing dress-up and he wasn’t.
    Kieran watched them move, the Mary Jane making everything a little ethereal, a little unreal. Fuck, it was sexy, though. Sweet. Sensual.
    Mmm… Alliteration.
    They headed to a booth near the front, the tall guy stopping them about halfway there. They all listened intently to him, answered him, and then two continued on to the empty front table, the third girl coming back toward Kieran’s table with the man.
    “God, Ben… Look at him. He’s fucking stunning.” Kieran aimed his whisper at his friend’s ear.
    Ben chuckled. “And he’s with three girls, Kier. Three. You’re not that pretty. Have another hit.”
    Ben blew sweet smoke into Kieran’s mouth, and Kieran took it in, letting it fill his lungs.
    The goth girl and the man approached the grouping of chairs and sofa where Kieran and his friends sat, stopping only when they were directly in front of the empty chair by Kieran.
    “Excuse me,” the man murmured, voice low, words careful. “Is this chair taken?”
    Kieran let the smoke go, shaking his head. “No. Go ahead.”
    If he couldn’t have, he could watch.
    Ogle.
    Fantasize.
    Whatever.
    “You gonna be okay, Luce?” the girl asked as the man sat gracefully. He had dark eyes, almost black.
    Luce waved a hand. “Go on, Nela, have your little lesbian hour. I’ll order a cognac, sit with these gentlemen, and enjoy a different show altogether.”
    “‘Kay.”
    She touched Luce’s knee, gave him a once over, and a half smile, then took off to join her friends down at the front.
    Kieran offered the guy a grin, nodding a little, trying not to stare.
    The guy didn’t react, but a moment later he spoke. “I’m Lucien. Thank you for sharing your area with me.”
    “I’m Kieran. This is Ben and Lindsey and Jamie.” He held out a hand to shake.
    Lucien inclined his head and then slowly held his hand out, too far left before slowly veering right to Kieran’s. Wow. What was Lucien on? “Kieran. It’s a lovely name. Suits your voice.”
    “Thank you. I was named after my grandfather.” The man’s fingers were cool, strong. Felt good.
    “And you smell interesting as well. Is that also after your grandfather?”
    “Hmm? No. My grandfather never smoked.” He ducked his head for a second. “The owner’s cool, so long as you stay in the shadows.”
    Lucien chuckled, the sound deep, rich, and very sexy. “I have an affinity for shadows myself.”
    “God, you’ve got a fabulous voice.”
    He blushed as Ben laughed at him and tickled his belly. “Kier’s shameless. Just ignore him.”
    “Oh, I don’t know about that. Shame is highly overrated.” Lucien’s tone made his words sound intimate, private.
    Kieran’s cock perked right up, and he dropped his book into his lap to hide it. “Shame is a pride’s cloak, yes?”
    “Indeed. And do you soar often?” Lucien asked.
    Kieran beamed. He did love a man who knew his Blake. “I do, although I must admit to the temptation to soar too