This calls for florid prose.
As he handed the trophy to Tim, Brian felt his teammate take his hand rather than the trophy’s base and time began to stand still. Brian could feel his face become hot and red; he turned away rather than let Tim see the flush of his skin. But the draw of Tim’s eyes, those soulful pools of green, was too much. The thrill of a World Series win was the greatest of Brian’s life up until that moment. Now the promise of finally being with Tim had surpassed it.
I feel like Brian would just WRECK Tim in bed though. I mean really…
(I have never looked at Tim’s arms before, though. Me gusta…)