Tim kissed him like he was starving to death, and all Lance could feel was joy at being accepted this way, as a man, as a lover. And all he could think was: mine, mine, mine. The kiss stripped away the remaining tatters of his doubts and defenses, and Lance knew with certainly, by the swelling of his heart, that he had bonded with Tim completely. He was in love. He was a one-man dog, and Tim was it for him.
