The Treehouse


From a distance, the dilapidated treehouse looked the same as it always had: a scaled-down version of the big house on the property. As he walked closer, Jay could see the broken windows, the peeling blue paint, and the missing shingles.

When Jay Morton and his mom had come to live at the Bridger House in 1986, the treehouse was the coolest thing he’d ever seen. Built on a platform that wrapped around two huge live oaks, it seemed like something out of a fairytale.

Clayton Reed—the eight-year-old owner of said treehouse—had been equally exotic. Red-haired, freckled, and as skinny as his name implied. Not to mention the most creative person Jay had ever run across. They’d bonded over stories; novels, comics, anything they could get their hands on. Jay had loved to fall asleep to the sound of Clayton reciting the fantastical tales he seemed to pull out of thin air.

Although Jay had been forbidden to hang out with the son of his mom’s boss, the boys found ways around the rules by secretly meeting in the treehouse. It was their safe haven. Later, after the Reed family lost their money and the Bridger House began to crumble around them, the boys—now young men—would meet in the treehouse and drink. They’d kissed for the first time in the treehouse and had the first fumbling sexual encounters. The boys had promised to keep in touch when Mrs. Reed abruptly let Jay’s mom go and they’d been forced to move to Charleston so she could find work. After a while, the promised emails and phone calls had dwindled to nothing, but Jay had never forgotten Clayton.

Now, more than twenty years later—Jay was back in the town of Summerville.

When Jay had decided to buy an old house on the outskirts of Charleston and fix it up, nostalgia had led him to look in Summerville. When he realized the Bridger house was for sale he knew it had to be fate.

He’d bought the house sight-unseen. It was a crumbling old wreck and would take an obscene amount of money to fix up, but he had to believe fate had guided him and that it wasn’t some ridiculous mid-life crisis.

Behind him, the crunch of underbrush announced someone’s arrival.

“I had a feelin’ you’d be back here,” Clayton drawled.  Jay’s skin prickled, despite the late summer heat and he turned to face his old friend. Twenty years had done him well. Still freckled and ginger haired of course, but the carrot orange had softened to a reddish blond and his blue eyes were bright in his handsome face.

“Yeah, couldn’t resist taking a look at the old place,” Jay admitted, giving his old friend a lopsided smile. “Hey, by the way.”

“Hey, yourself.” Clayton’s smile was blinding. “What are you doing in town? I couldn’t believe it when I got your message on Facebook after all this time.”

Clayton held up the keys he’d gotten from the real estate agent. “Just bought the place. From the old crab traps in the root cellar to the treehouse out back, the Bridger property’s mine now.”

The open, friendly expression faded from Clayton’s face and with a solid, skull-rattling blow, his fist connected with Jay’s jaw.

It took me a while to write this, mostly because the story kept shifting. As it did, I quickly realized there was a hell of a plot bunny here. Clearly, Jay and Clayton have a story that needs to be told. Who’d like to read it?

Please visit the flash fic group on Facebook and check out the links to the other authors’ flash fics.

I look forward to seeing you next Monday!



Flash Fiction Monday – Travis and Santiago

“I have to go.” Travis’ tone was reluctant.

Santiago burrowed closer, his grip tightening around Travis’ waist. “Are you sure?”

“You know I do. Coming here tonight was risky enough.” Santiago’s father was having a huge party and Travis had nearly chickened out. Skirting the brightly lit areas of the huge estate was difficult under normal circumstances, but the party was being held outdoors by the pool and with caterers, staff, and guests milling around, he’d nearly been caught a handful of times. The cover of the noisy party had been tempting, though, and he and Santiago had taken advantage of it. Travis had even allowed himself a small whimper as he came down Santiago’s throat. And they’d both enjoyed an uncharacteristic leisurely shower together, knowing that Santiago’s parents were otherwise occupied.

Travis captured Santiago’s mouth with his own and enjoyed a thorough kiss before he pulled away. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow, okay?”

Santiago pouted, but nodded and let him go.

Travis peered through the curtains, then opened the balcony door and stepped onto the patio. He scanned the grounds, but the coast was clear. The party was still going—although starting to wind down from the sounds of it—and he thought he could make it away safely without anyone noticing. With a fleeting smile to his boyfriend, he swung over the railing and lowered himself. He was halfway down when Santiago leaned over the edge and reached for him. “I love you.”

Travis smiled up at him and braced himself so he could let go with one hand. He reached up, grabbed Santiago’s hand and planted a kiss on the back of it. “I love you too.”

Without another word, Travis let go, deftly scrambling down the iron railing and shimmying down the post. He gave Travis one backward glance before slipping into the shrubs. He carefully maneuvered through the underbrush and into the wooded area behind the house. He knew the area like the back of his hand—he’d been sneaking in and out of Santiago’s room for the better part of a year—but he knew if he didn’t stay vigilant, he’d be caught.

On high alert, Travis heard the snap of a twig behind him and froze, his heart pounding so hard he could hardly hear over the rush of blood in his ears.Please be a couple wanting some privacy or a waiter sneaking a cigarette, he silently pleaded. Please, please don’t catch me.

The son of the town’s biggest environmentalist being caught sneaking out of the bedroom of the son of the owner of Ortega Oil was a recipe for disaster.  Emanuel Ortega was conservative as hell in both his business and his personal life. Wilson Becker was liberal, but he would never condone his son’s involvement with Santiago.

His heart in his throat, his pulse racing like a terrified rabbit, Travis could do nothing but stay perfectly still and hope that whoever was in the trees nearby wouldn’t find him.

The picture had a Romeo & Juliet vibe and I decided to run with it. The most original take on it? Nope. But it was fun to write.

Please visit the flash fic group on Facebook and check out the links to the other authors’ flash fics.

I look forward to seeing you next Monday!

Flash Fiction Monday – Nudity and the Pug

“Two shirts, sandals, and no pants, huh?”

Amal jerked, then craned his neck to look at me. I’d been sitting there watching him cook for a while, but he hadn’t noticed.

“My feet get cold.”

“But your balls don’t?”

Thick lashes dipped down to shadow dark eyes and he gave me a sweet, half-smile.  “You could warm them. You’re very good with your tongue.”

Amal was an intriguing mix of shy and bold.

Our relationship had developed oddly.  He’d been studying at Universität Hamburg and in need of a place to live. I’d been left behind by a former partner who thought packing and moving without giving me notice was an appropriate way to end a relationship I’d thought would last a lifetime.

Given how sullen I was when Amal moved into the flat full of American and British exchange students—not to mention my less than handsome face—I still don’t know why he gave me a second glance. In truth, he probably wouldn’t have if it weren’t for the news reports of the endless bombings in Syria. He’d left before the worst of it began and his immediate family had relocated to a safer place since. It broke my heart to watch him grieve for his home country and fear for the distant relatives and friends unable or unwilling to leave.

One night, when the rest of our flat mates were out, we sat in the living room watching the news. I’m still not sure what made me lean against him so the sides of our bodies were pressed together. Maybe it was the big dark eyes swimming with tears or the way the need in them mirrored my own, but I leaned in and he let out this heavy, shuddering sigh that I felt down to my bones. I stayed glued to his side long after he’d switch from the news to a more upbeat movie, his hand heavy and warm against my skin.

I was disappointed when he stretched and yawned, then told me he was going to bed, thinking the night had been a fluke. When I turned to go into the room where my bed was located, he gave me a look that warmed me to my toes. “I thought you’d be sleeping with me.”

That’s the night I discovered Amal was a closet nudist and that licking his balls both made him giggle and sigh with pleasure.

We were an odd pair; no question about it. But our flatmates eventually grew used to the sight of us together. After the first night we spent together, he was naked as often he could manage—with curious flatmates and cold winter air around it wasn’t often—so after he graduated we moved into a smaller flat free from prying eyes. Or so we’d thought.

He twisted the dial to off and turned to face me. “What do you think of my idea?”

I smiled and pulled him close; our bare skin brushing together sent a pleasant tingle through my body. I’d stripped down the moment I got home. “It’s brilliant. But we’d better lock the dog out of the bedroom.”

Amal nodded and shot a glance at our new, canine roommate. “He watches us a lot. I swear I caught him staring at my bum earlier.”


Please visit the flash fic group on Facebook and check out the links to the other authors’ flash fics. We have quite a few contributions this week!

I look forward to seeing you next Monday!

Flash Fiction Monday – Empty Room


January 25.jpg

Josh glanced over his shoulder, the garden hose hanging limply from his hand, the newly-planted hydrangeas forgotten.  A few yards away, Pete stood in an all-too-familiar stance. Josh had been seeing more and more of it lately. The crossed arms and bowed head had come to represent all of the problems in their relationship.

The bickering and snarky comments had been out of control lately and Josh swallowed past the thickening in this throat as he thought about all the nights he’d gone to bed alone lately. Pete had either fallen asleep on the couch or come to bed in the wee hours of the morning. If Josh tried to stay up late so they could go to sleep together, he’d invariably nod off and wake to find the room empty and dark.

He couldn’t remember the last time they’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms or made love. Hell, Josh would have been happy with a quick and dirty blowjob, but any sort of intimacy had fallen completely by the wayside.

“I think your shoe is about to get more water than that plant, Son.”

Josh jerked, nearly spraying his father with the hose.  He reached down and turned the valve on the nozzle off before he met his dad’s gaze. “Sorry.”

“I won’t bother to ask if something’s wrong, because I can tell there is. So tell me what it is.”

There was no hiding from the probing gaze of a well-decorated police captain, even if Josh had wanted to, so he sighed and gave his father a helpless look. “Pete and I … we’ve been struggling lately.”

“I can see that. At first I chalked it up to the new house, but I think it’s more than the stress of moving and renovations, isn’t it?”

Josh nodded and thought of the specifications they’d given the real estate agent when they’d been house hunting: at least three bedrooms and a big backyard. He thought of the room next to the master bedroom, carefully decorated with gender-neutral décor that was supposed to both soothe and stimulate a baby’s developing brain and his chest ached.

He and Pete had been ready weeks before the delivery, bags packed with diapers and little onesies. The stuffed lamb Pete had chosen the moment the birth mother had picked them was carefully tucked inside.  So was the tiny hat with bear ears Josh had found one day while he was on a lunch break and hadn’t been able to resist.

They’d waited on pins and needles, desperately praying for a healthy pregnancy and easy delivery.

And then the call came from the intermediary at the adoption agency telling them the adoption had fallen through. She’d used words like disruption and termination of adoption, but all Josh could hear was that someone had taken his future son or daughter from him. They’d both known it was a possibility, but the reality was far worse than he’d ever imagined.

Pete had been equally affected, but more resilient.  Willing to give it another shot. Josh had struggled with the idea, and by the time they were both on board again, cracks had begun to form in the relationship.  Sometimes Josh thought it was just as well there hadn’t been any matches for them. The last thing he wanted was to bring a child into an unhappy home.

“Go talk to him, Joshua. Your husband needs you right now. Whatever is causing this, it’s better to talk and work through it. I’ll finish up this landscaping.”

Josh nodded again. Family and friends had come over to help them plant flowers around the perimeter of the house and lay a stone patio behind it. He felt vaguely guilty as he handed the garden hose to his father and strode over to his husband. But his dad was right. His relationship with Pete took precedence. Everything else could wait.

“Pete?”  His husband flinched as Josh settled his hands on his hips, feeling the sun-warmed denim and soft cotton T-shirt.  Josh rested his chin on Pete’s shoulder. “Can we talk?”

“About?” Pete’s tone was wary.

“About the fact that we’re both hurting over the fact that we lost the baby. And that trying again has been hard as hell on both of us and I haven’t dealt with it well.” Pete was silent, so he continued. “I want a family with you, but not at the expense of losing you.”

Josh straightened as Pete turned in his arms and gave him a tremulous smile. “I don’t want that either. And I know I’ve been a miserable son-of-a-bitch lately. You’re right, it has been hard, but losing you isn’t what I want either.  How about we talk more tonight once everyone’s gone? We’ll get this figured out.”

Josh couldn’t speak so he dipped his head to brush his lips over Pete’s. It was brief and chaste, but after months of chilly indifference, it heated his blood. He pulled back, but kept his arms around Pete, needing the closeness. “Sounds good to me.”

Against Josh’s leg, Pete’s phone vibrated, startling them both. Josh reluctantly stepped back to allow him to answer it. Pete’s eyes widened as he started at the screen and he held out to Josh, who gave him a questioning look before taking the phone.

Linwood Adoption Agency flashed before his eyes and could only think of one reason they would be calling on a Sunday afternoon.

With shaking fingers, he thrust the phone back at his husband. “Well, answer it.”

Please visit the flash fic group on Facebook and check out the links to the other authors’ flash fics! We have a new author named Kelly Jensen joining us, so be sure to check out her flash fic this week!

I look forward to seeing you next Monday!


Flash Fiction Monday – Ebb and Flow


Ebb and Flow

The late-afternoon light made the apartment glow. It was peaceful, almost romantic. Luke had noticed it just before he opened the door to let Joshua inside. It was an idle thought, fleeting and soon forgotten. Thoughts of the light and the ambiance had flown from his head the moment he’d seen Joshua. He couldn’t take his eyes off the guy he’d been dating for a few short weeks. They’d tumbled onto the bed, desperate for each other. Luke had never felt more aroused, more tightly strung and anxious for an orgasm.

When he’d felt Joshua’s lips on his inner thigh, he’d had to grip the sheets below him, afraid he’d explode before Luke got anywhere near his cock. His brain was so muddled and fuzzy from arousal; the sharp sting on his left thigh didn’t really register as pain. It wasn’t until Luke pulled back and Joshua saw the blood and the knife that the fear hit. It hit with the force of a wrecking ball at the glint in Joshua’s eyes. He attempted to scramble away, but the searing pain in his thigh made his head swim. Joshua knelt over his chest, trapping Luke’s arms against his sides and immobilizing him.  Joshua leaned in and Luke’s guts turned to ice water as he realized that in all probability, he wouldn’t survive whatever Joshua did next.

A strangled “help!” burst from Luke’s lips and he managed to repeat his terrified plea a handful of times before Joshua’s hand clamped over his mouth.

“Don’t ruin this,” Joshua hissed. “It was going so well.”

Luke’s heart pounded in his chest and he struggled helplessly beneath Joshua. The betrayal was beginning to sink in. A strange lassitude flowed over him, thick like honey or molasses, making his tongue unwieldy and his limbs feel heavy.

The tip of the knife neared his throat, and his closed his eyes, unable to look at the man he’d been falling for.

I’m going to die, he thought again.

The sharp wail of a siren in the distance made Luke’s heart leap with hope. His eyes flew open and he caught a fleeting glimpse of fear in Joshua’s eyes. As the sound got closer, Joshua scrambled back and the knife clattered to the ground.

Luke felt a sense of relief as Joshua vanished from his vision. The sound of the door opening and slamming shut made him brave enough to weakly shout for help again.  He struggled to get up, weakly trying to push up with his elbows. Exhausted, he collapsed on the bed, his head hanging off the edge, too tired to struggle anymore as his voice faded to a whisper.

The siren faded into the distance as the blood seeped from the wound in Luke’s thigh, soaking through the sheet below him. He stared at the wall behind him, everything fuzzy and upside down.  He heard a noise in the background he couldn’t place, and two feet entered his vision.

Joshua or someone else?

Luke wavered between fear and hope, before his eyes closed and he went limp.


Please visit the flash fic group on Facebook and check out the links to the other authors’ flash fics! I really enjoyed Helena’s this week.

I look forward to seeing you next Monday!

Flash Fiction Monday – Fairy Tales


Prince Augustus buried his head in his hands, fighting back the wave of anxiety that swept over him every time he caught a glimpse of them. Every morning when he woke up, he prayed that they’d return to their normal skin tone, but every day the blue hue and icy coldness deepened and spread further. The color moving up his legs and torso had been easy enough to cover, but his hands were more difficult to hide. It had been an unseasonably cold spring, and he’d worn gloves as long as he could, but a sudden warm spell had swept across the kingdom and he was starting to get odd looks from the castle servants—not to mention his father, the king—every time he wore the heavy, black leather gauntlets.

He’d been researching like mad, searching every book in the castle library and consulting with the royal doctor, who’d pursed his lips but agreed to keep it a secret from King Weston.  But nothing they tried seemed to be working.  Augustus had even gone to the fields to spend the day in the sun, hoping that the heat would cure the spreading ice, but nothing had done the trick.

The secret had isolated him from his family and his fiancé, Princess Luciana. Truth be told, he wasn’t heartbroken over that. At best it was an arranged marriage. At worst  … well, he didn’t want to think about that either.  He’d rather spend his time with his men at arms than with his bride-to-be, something he knew wasn’t entirely normal. Especially not for a prince.

“Augustus!” The sound of his name being bellowed across the fields made his head snap up and he caught sight of Sebastian, one of his knights and his best friend barreling toward him on his chestnut charger.

He scrambled for his clothes, snatching them up in his haste to cover the embarrassing hue of his skin.  “Go away, ‘Bastian” he shouted. “Is it too much for a Prince to have a moment alone?”

But Sebastian pulled his heavily muscled horse to a stop in front of him.  Its skin steamed in the cooler air and he wondered how hard and fast Sebastian had ridden it.  He’d managed to tug his pants on, but his shirt still lay in a tangled heap on the ground and there was no hiding his skin.

Sebastian slid to the ground with a heavy thud, letting go of the horse’s reins. It wandered away to munch on grass as he stared open-mouthed at Augustus.  “August, your skin  …” he whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Augustus closed his eyes in shame before opening them to look his friend in the eye. “I’m sorry, ‘Bastian. I didn’t know what to say. Something’s wrong with me and I don’t know what’s caused it or how to treat it.”

“You really don’t know?” Sebastian stepped closer, the heat of his body warming Augustus’ chilled skin.  “You’ve never heard the legends?”

He shook his head. “Legends? I don’t understand.”

“Just trust me,” Sebastian whispered.  Before Augustus could react, he felt the press of ‘Bastian’s lips against his. They both shuddered and, involuntarily, Augustus’ hands reached up to grip Sebastian’s leather tunic. He smelled of sweat, leather, and horse and the scent did something to Augustus that the flowery scent of Princess Luciana’s perfume had never done.

“What are you doing?” he asked in bewilderment as their lips parted, but he didn’t pull away from his friend in horror like he knew he should.

“Look at your hands, August,” Sebastian whispered.

Augustus looked down to see the normal rosy brown hue returning to his skin, the icy cold and blue color retreating like the snow in spring. “What? I don’t understand  … how did you …?”

‘Bastian’s impish grin was so familiar it made Augustus’ heart ache. “You really don’t know the legends then. You’ve been cursed. We’ll have to speak to my mother to discover who placed it on you, but don’t you know what always cures a curse? Think about all of the fairy stories your nurse told you as a child.”

Sebastian thought about it for a moment, then his face split with a wide grin.  His heart felt light for the first time in months. “True love’s kiss.”

“From a handsome prince—or in this case a knight.” ‘Bastian winked at him. “Come. As you well know, my mother’s powers as a healer and wise woman are legendary. She’ll have a solution for us. One even your father will be able live with. Happy endings aren’t just for fairy tales, you know.”

Dazed and disbelieving, Augustus finished dressing and hopped up on the chestnut stallion behind Sebastian.  As the horse’s hooves thundered over the ground, he buried his head against ‘Bastian’s neck and allowed himself to hope.


I went a little over the word count again, but I was very pleased with the way the flash turned out.

Please visit the flash fic group on Facebook and check out the links to the other authors’ flash fics! Theo’s is fantastic!

I look forward to seeing you next Monday!

Mittens and Clay


Clay swirled his brush across the paper, filling in the sky behind the little red house he’d painted.  Below, two stick figures with dark hair held the hands of the smaller figure. The one with bright yellow hair just like Clay’s.  Mittens wound around his ankle as he dipped the brush into the water, then traded the blue paint for black.

His tongue poked out from between his teeth as he carefully drew a few more lines and added ears. “There, I put you in the picture too, Mittens. They promised you’d come home with us.”

The cat jumped onto the table and chirped, “mrrow”.

“Do you think they’ll like the picture, Mittens?” Clay whispered.

This time, the black cat dipped her paw in the mug of water in answer.

He looked at Mittens and gave her a tremulous smile. “Do you think they’ll like us?”

Please visit the flash fic group on Facebook and check out the links to the other authors’ flash fics! This week, Helena made me cry.

I look forward to seeing you next Monday!

Flash Fic Monday – Dive


Charles watched, heart in his throat, as Emanuel leapt from the cliff.  His form was perfect, his body knifing through the air as he plummeted to the pool of water below. A cry went up from the people around them, and Charles realized his arms were upraised too, his throat hoarse from screaming, although he could hear nothing over the roar of the waterfall.

Before Charles could blink, Emanuel was gone, disappearing beneath the churning water.  Charles’ gut felt full of lead and his cheeks were wet.  He closed his eyes, not sure if it was the roaring water or the pounding of his heart he felt surging through him.

Emanuel had been planning this for months, meticulously researching every aspect of it.  When he announced to Charles that he was finally ready, Charles had calmly walked into the bathroom, closed the door, and heaved up the contents of his stomach.

He wasn’t ready. He could never be ready for something like this.  And yet, there was no dissuading Emanuel.  They hadn’t slept at all the night before, lying in each other’s arms and whispering to each other. Charles spoke until his voice was raw and nearly gone, yet he hadn’t said the one thing he wanted to.

Don’t do it. 

Please, don’t leave me.

He wanted to scream them, but now … it was too late.

Of course, if it hadn’t been this it would have been something else.  The disease had slowly been robbing Emanuel of his life. Charles would have lost him at some point, but he’d selfishly been hoping to have more time together. But Emanuel had refused to let himself wither away like most and had planned this mad journey and jump from the waterfall.  The impact should break his neck. If not, the icy water would do the rest.  Their friends and Emanuel’s family had come to support him, won over by the man’s quiet determination.  But none of them loved Emanuel the way Charles did.  No one would ever love Emanuel as fiercely.

Resolute, Charles opened his eyes, ready to leave the place where he’d unwillingly said goodbye to the man he loved.  It was over.

His eyes dry now, Charles squared his shoulders and took a deep breath.  He sputtered on the inhale as something—no, someone—broke the surface of the churning water.  Unblinking, Charles stared.

Emanuel was nude as he stepped onto the shore, water sheeting off his muscles, his expression serene. Charles had heard the legend of course, but he’d never believed it.  Never dreamed for a minute that the rumors and whispers could be true.

Directly in front of him now, Emanuel stared straight into Charles’ eyes. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even lift his arms to embrace the man he loved as the distance between them disappeared. Shock rendering him mute and motionless. Emanuel’s skin was warm, his body solid.

It was true then.

Only those who were willing and ready to die, were reborn.

Please visit the flash fic group on Facebook and check out the links to the other authors’ flash fics!

I look forward to seeing you next Monday!

Flash Fic Monday – Excitement


On the path in front of him, Kurt stopped in his tracks and Victor’s feet slid on the dew-damp grass as he tried to do the same.  He cursed as he ran into the man in front of him, his hands curling around the thick biceps to get his balance.

“Damn,” Kurt whispered, his tone almost reverent.

You aren’t kidding, Victor thought.  Just being in such close proximity made his head spin.

“I didn’t know it would be like that. Your photos are going to be amazing.”

Victor chuckled internally and shook his head.  Right. The reason they’d been hacking their way through overgrown brush for three days was the photo shoot he’d been planning for six months.  Not the man he’d been lusting after for nearly as long.

Reluctantly, he let go of Kurt and stepped to the side. He blinked at the sight of the twisted steel forms rising from the trees, partially obscured by the fog.  The rusted metal looked almost sculptural in the heavy, early-morning air.  Victor’s hand went to the camera hanging around his neck.

“I just never dreamed it would be so …” Kurt let out a sigh and Victor nodded. It was incredible.  “How fast did they go?”

“Fast,” Victor replied as he took off the lens cap and brought the viewfinder to his face.  “It was absolutely exhilarating.”

After the collapse of the Western world, nothing even remotely like a rollercoaster remained.  Victor was old enough to remember them from his childhood, but Kurt had been born after.  Even now, although society was beginning to rebuild, engineers were focused on infrastructure, not amusement parks.  Victor’s day job was useful and productive—creative fields just weren’t necessary in this new world they lived in—but Victor had inherited his father’s ancient camera, and with some creative modifications, he made it work.  Now, Victor was trying to catalogue all the long-forgotten relics from the old society.  He didn’t know why, exactly, but something in his blood told him it was important.

Victor had hired Kurt to help him get to the old, closed-down amusement park.  It had been a pleasant—if strenuous—couple of days, and Victor felt a moment of remorse that tomorrow morning, they’d be heading back to the city. He only had one day to shoot; he had to make the most of it.

By the end of that day Victor’s feet hurt, his forearms were scratched from a patch of brambles he’d stumbled into, and even Kurt—rugged guide that he was—looked exhausted.  Now, Victor smiled at him over the crackling campfire they’d made at the base of one of the huge steel monsters.  “I really can’t thank you enough for doing this.”

Kurt shrugged, rubbing at his bearded jaw.  “Hey, this was great. I’ve always been curious to see them.  I never dreamed they’d be so big. I just wish I knew what it was like to ride one.”

Victor glanced up at the rusted metal far, far above them.  “It was pretty breathtaking,” he admitted, although his memories were from so long ago, he sometimes wondered if they were even remotely accurate.  He remembered the adrenaline and his heart slamming in his chest at the wild speed as the ‘coaster whipped around a curve.

“I can imagine.”

Victor jerked in surprise when Kurt’s voice came from far closer than a few moments before.  Kurt stood in front of him, expression strangely intense.  Victor’s heart seemed to echo his childhood memories, pounding far too fast as he got to his feet, compelled by the look in the other man’s eyes.

“Yeah.” Kurt’s voice was soft as he leaned closer.  “I imagine it’s a lot like being around you.”

Victor’s hand trembled as their lips pressed softly together.  This—being intimate with a man—was as looked down on as being an artist was.  Practicality ruled in this new society and a man who couldn’t rebuild the population or the world they lived in wasn’t thought highly of.

But, as their bodies pressed together from toe to forehead, Victor thought he might just be willing to take the risk.

Much like riding a roller coaster, the fear only added to the excitement.

Please visit the flash fic group on Facebook and check out the links to the other authors’ flash fics for this week! I really loved Theo’s and Helena’s this week.

I look forward to seeing you next Monday!

Flash Fic Monday – Can So


Can So

Jose choked on his beer.  Once he stopped sputtering and coughing, he managed to gasp out a few words. “Roland, you’re nuts. On a good day, you look like The Rock.  It would be like putting lipstick on a pig.”

Roland glared. “Is that a cop joke?”

Jose choked again and let out a loud, barking cough to clear his lungs.  “No! I’m just saying that I don’t care how goddamn great your body is or that you have the fucking prettiest long black hair I’ve ever seen on a man or woman.  You can’t pull off thigh high PVC stilettos and leather briefs.”

Roland crossed his arms, his biceps bulging under the sleeves of his thin blue T-shirt. “Says who?”

“Says your best friend! And probably the rest of the world!”

Scowling, Roland let out an annoyed sounding, “hmmph”. “Can so.”

“Can not.” Jesus, it was like the arguments he used to have with his brothers growing up.

“I think you lack imagination.”

Jose rolled his eyes and turned to the table behind him, raising his voice.  “Would any of you want to see that fucker—” he jerked his thumb toward Roland “—in thigh high PVC stilettos and leather briefs?”

Considering the fact that they were in your average bar and not a gay bar, Jose was surprised when a few people gave Roland an appraising glance.  Maybe they just didn’t want to offend the 6’3” beast of a man.

“I would!” a skinny guy in the back piped up and Roland snickered and gave the guy a wink. Jose turned back to his friend and took a long drag on his beer bottle.

“What do I get if I pull it off?” Roland asked.

Jose shrugged, not believing for a moment that Roland would.  Oh, he’d dress up—the undercover narcotics cop was a crazy-ass motherfucker—but he’d look ridiculous doing it.  Money didn’t mean much to either of them, he wanted something a little more personal. “How about my bike? It’ll be yours for a month.”

He owned a fully-restored 1980 Harley-Davidson FXB and it was his pride and joy. If he thought it was in any real danger, he’d never wager it.

“Done.” Roland stuck out a beefy hand and Jose felt a flash of anxiety course through him as he shook.  He really loved that bike.

Roland stood and reached for his canvas duffle with a smirk.  “Get those keys ready,” he said as he turned and left the table.

Twenty minutes later, as Jose stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the crowd from the bar and watched Roland strut his stuff, he shook his head in amused disgust.

Roland glanced over his shoulder and winked at Jose.  “I want the bike clean and with a full tank of gas.”

Jose scowled. The man had pulled it off.

And damn it, he looked good doing it.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to have anything for this prompt but this idea popped in my head this morning and I’m pretty pleased with it.

Please visit the flash fic group on Facebook and check out the links to the other authors’ flash fics for this week! We have lots of new people joining us!

I look forward to seeing you next Monday!