Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Silver Flash Fiction March 30, 2011

Rob and Sam's story continues from last week. The prompt this week was highlighter, coffee mug and hourglass.

Every Man's Fantasy 
Part 2 
Copyright © 2011

I’m shaved and showered and standing in my bedroom, figuring out what to wear. Rob will be here in an hour. After work I came home, slept, then cleaned my apartment like a maniac: Everything gleams. I even put fresh sheets on my bed, just in case we end up there. I’m hoping we’ll end up there but I won’t push. I’ll let him make the first move.

I settle for an olive t-shirt since it brings out the green in my eyes, and my favorite jeans and best underwear.

While I wait for Rob I try to study. My gaze keeps straying to my computer. The minute I got home I went back to the website and checked Jaden’s bio. Apparently he was twenty, six feet tall, with an athletic build. The build and height seems right but if they lied about his name maybe they lied about his age.

He had two more movies. I watched them both. The first was a solo piece. In the other movie he tops. The other guy’s hot but Rob is hotter. I watch his face and listen to his voice. He’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. He’s so appealing with his long lean body; similar but so different from his sister with her hourglass figure and soft curves.

I shift uncomfortably. I’m way too excited to study. I put away my books and highlighter and put on some quiet music. I have time to kill so I empty my dishwasher. The intercom buzzes. I startle and drop the coffee mug I was holding. Thankfully it doesn’t break.

There’s a light tap at the door. I open it and he’s here. He looks great. He wearing jeans and a t-shirt and clutching a six pack in one hand. He shoves the beer at me. “Hi Sam. Here.”

“Thanks. Would you like one?”

“God, yes.”


“No thanks.”

We’re still in my kitchen. I grab the takeout menus as he looks around. I watch him. He’s wound-up pretty tight. Maybe he’s nervous.  

“You want the tour?”

“Yeah, sure.”

It takes less than a minute. “Kitchen.” We walk down the hall. I point with the menus. “Bathroom ... bedroom.” I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively.

He pokes his head in both rooms and gives me a long look from under his lashes. It’s more thoughtful than seductive.

“And here’s the living room,” I finish.

“It’s nice,” he mumbles.

I sit on the couch and pat the seat beside me. I might be reading him wrong but he seems disappointed, resigned. He sits down and drinks his beer. The silence stretches.

“Rob, is everything okay?”


“Are you hungry?”

He shrugs. “Sure.”

This isn’t going the way I imagined. He’s withdrawing. But in the coffee shop I was sure he was into me and when our fingers brushed in the kitchen when I gave him his beer, I didn’t think I was the only one that felt a spark.

This date is going downhill fast. I’m picking up mixed signals but I have an idea what’s wrong. I turn to face him.

“Rob, relax. I don’t fuck on the first date.” It’s mostly true but I have bent my rules on occasion. I would for him, in a heartbeat.

He almost drops his beer. “You don’t? Then why am I here?”

His surprise is painful to see.

“For dinner.”

“You meant that?”

I frown. Did he think I was lying? “Yeah. I did.”

“Oh.” He turns the beer bottle around in his hands.

“Is that a problem?” I wonder why he agreed to be here if he thought I was only interested in sex. I thought we were on the same wavelength but now I’m not sure.

“No, that’s great.” He pushes his hair out of his eyes. “I mean, I like you but I’ve never been on a date with someone that already knew. It’s weirding me out. You’ve already seen me naked, seen me …” He stops and blushes. “Can I ask you something?”


“You don’t care that I’ve done porn?”

“Are you still doing it?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“Then no.” I watch his reaction. “It’s kind of a turn-on actually.”   

He’s silent. Thinking. “Which movie did you see?”

"The movies you did for Hawt Hawt Boyz.

“You saw all of them?” He sounds freaked.

Is he embarrassed? Why? It was his choice wasn’t it? Shit. “Were you coerced? Did they give you something or get you to drink something?”

“What?” He makes a visible effort to calm down. “No. There’s free drinks though. I was pretty drunk when they were filming.”

“So what’s wrong?” I ask gently.

He scowls at me. “We don’t have equal footing. You have me at a disadvantage.”

That’s not something I want but I don’t know how to fix it. “I can’t undo watching them but I can tell you that I was attracted to you when you came to the coffee shop, when we were checking each other out before I saw your tattoo. Before I knew. I think maybe it was because you looked like the guy from the video.”

He rolls his eyes. “Sam, I am the guy in the video.”

“I know that now.” I think about what I want to say. “Look Rob. I’m attracted to you and you’re attracted to me. I’d like to have dinner with you, talk to you, get to know you. Maybe make out a little if you’re okay with that.”

He’s watching me warily but one corner of his mouth tilts up at that.

“I’d like to see you again. Do I want to have sex with you? Hell yeah. But I’ll wait ‘til you’re ready. So what do you say?” I wave the menus at him. “Pizza? Chinese? Thai?”

He gives me the full smile. The one that makes him seem wickedly sexy. “Chinese. And we can make out a little.”

I grin back. Maybe this date can be saved after all. 

To be continued.

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Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Silver Flash Fiction

Time for another flash fiction.
The prompt was "It's 4:00 A.M. and ..."
The story will continue next week.

Every Man's Fantasy
 Copyright © 2011

It’s 4:00 A.M. and I’m halfway through my shift. I don’t mind my job. I like working the graveyard shift at a coffee and donut chain but sometimes I wonder if it’s called the graveyard shift because it’s the middle of the night or because the customers are as animated as zombies.

There’s only one table occupied. The guy looks like he has chronic insomnia. He’s red-eyed, unshaven and hunched over a cold coffee.

I work on my reading assignment. My professor gets mad if we come to class unprepared, but nothing’s sinking in. Instead I think about books I’d like to read, movies I’d like to see. That leads to thinking about the movie I watched on the Internet last night.

You can guess what kind of movie it was. Pretty typical except … the blond guy ... there was something about him. He had kind of a boy-next-door look but with a big ol’ streak of bad boy: A sexy combination. There was this goldfish tattoo on his forearm. The muscles of his arm flexed and the fish seemed to writhe when he gripped the sheets and … other things.

I daydream about meeting him. We’d flirt with each other, go out to dinner or maybe a movie then back to my place and shazam!

The arrival of a group of clubbers interrupts my fantasy. The girls are wearing too much makeup and not enough clothing. They jostle each other, laughing together as they come up to the counter.

There are three girls and two guys. One of the guys is with a blond girl. She’s snuggled into him and his arm’s around her. He pays for her coffee and leads her to a table. The other two girls order separately and pay for their own stuff. The other guy is the last to order. He’s smiling and friendly as he orders hot chocolate.

I hand it over and watch him as he walks over to their table. He looks familiar.

He’s about my age and good-looking. Wholesome with soft-looking, blond hair flopping into blue eyes and light freckles across his nose. He’s wearing a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and jeans.

I try not to eavesdrop but it’s quiet and, except for the insomniac, they’re the only people in here. One of the girls calls him Rob.

I try to figure out where I’ve seen him before but it’s hopeless. I can’t recognize people out of context unless I know them well. He could live in the same building as me, or be in one of my classes and I wouldn’t figure it out.

I give up trying to place him and just enjoy looking.

Then I get it. He reminds me of the guy from the video, except it’s not him. That guy was called Jaden. Plus he looked younger and his hair was shorter.

I stop staring before he catches me and go back to my textbook. I actually manage to read something but I tune back in when I realize the girls are teasing him about watching the guy behind the counter. 

I look up and he’s looking at me. I watch as he stands. Peals of laughter follow him as he approaches the counter.       



“Ask for his phone number,” calls one of the girls.

He rolls his eyes but he’s smiling. “My sister and her friends. They’re unstoppable.”

There’s a pause as we assess each other. 

“You want another hot chocolate?”

He smiles. “Sure.”

I can feel his eyes on me as I make his drink. It makes my body flush and my skin prickle pleasantly. I bring the drink over to him. He pays and as I hand him his change a quarter slips through his fingers and rolls across the counter.

He reaches for it and the sleeve of his shirt slides up. He has a tattoo — the same as the one in the video. He’s Jaden.

He looks like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth but I remember the video. He had something in his mouth all right but it wasn’t butter. 

“Your tattoo.”


“I’ve seen it before.”

“Yeah?” He sounds cautious now.

I look up. His eyes are wary.

“Your hair’s different.”

“That was two years ago.”

“I just saw it last night.”

He winces and looks uncomfortable. “I signed a contract.”

“Jaden’s not your real name?”

He shakes his head. “My name’s Rob,” he says dully.

The girls have stopped giggling. The other guy senses something’s wrong. He gets up but his girlfriend follows him and tugs him back to his seat. “Let Rob handle it,” she says and I realize she’s the sister.

He pockets his change and turns, leaving his drink on the counter. He’s not at all what I expected.

“People do crazy things sometimes,” I hear myself say.

He stops and turns back. “Especially when they’re young and stupid.” He sounds rueful. “It messes up any chance of a relationship with a decent guy.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t if they knew at the start.”

“No?” he asks slowly,

I smile. “Well it’s going to be a distraction the first time we go out to dinner.”

He blinks, then smiles back. The smile morphs into his bad boy grin. “We could stay in and get take-out.”

My lips twitch. “That could work. Are you busy tonight?”

“I’m seeing you,” he double checks my nametag, “Sam. ”

We exchange phone numbers and he stays to chat and drink his hot chocolate. I reach over and wipe a fleck of cream off his lip. His pupils dilate.

I know the sex will be great but I like him too. I want to date him, not just sleep with him.

“Rob. Let’s go,” someone calls.

He hesitates.

“I’ll call you.”

“Okay.” He smiles again.

I watch him leave. He waves from the sidewalk and I wave back. I grin. I think I’ve just started dating a porn star. Every man's fantasy.

To be continued.

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Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Silver Flash Fiction March 16, 2011

Silver Flash Fiction

I wrote about Ward and Thomas a couple of weeks ago in Finding the Balance. I had an idea for a story about a couple arguing on the way home from a concert so I created Ward and Thomas. I don’t know where they came from but as I wrote the characters they almost seemed to emerge fully formed.

I couldn’t stop thinking about them, wondering what their back-story was, why Thomas had self-confidence issues, what Ward was really like.

So I wrote this. If you haven’t read Finding the Balance I’d suggest you read that first. 

The prompt this week was “Don’t look at me like that.” Hope you enjoy.  

Letting Go
Copyright © 2011

“That’s it babe. Slide your leg up a little higher.”

Thomas tucked one knee up, close to his ribs, and drew in a shuddery breath. He lay on his belly, Ward kneeling behind him.

Ward ran soothing hands along his sides and pressed his chest against Thomas’s back.

Thomas turned his head for a kiss. Ward obliged, kissing him deeply.

“You ready, babe?”

Thomas nodded. “Y-yeah.” He was. He was so ready.

Ward’s weight lifted off him. Warm hands on his ass and then pressure at his entrance. Slow, sweet pleasure-pain as his body was breached.

Ward rested on his elbows and wrapped his arms around Thomas, holding him close.

He cried out at the welcome, familiar sensation as Ward pushed slowly, relentlessly forward. “Easy, Thomas. Relax, breathe.” 

Ward stilled, kissed his shoulders, his neck, his hair. “I’m gonna move now, okay?’ He began to rock in and out.

Thomas whimpered. Such a needy sound but he couldn’t help it.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Waves of pleasure washed over him. Each one overlapping the one before, never quite dying away before Ward slid forward again and the next wave of sweet sensation began.

Ward’s hand moved to his nipple, tugging, stroking. It slid down his body in a caress, over his belly, along the inside of his thigh to cup and massage his balls, over to his cock, but only to tease. Ward liked to draw their lovemaking out.

Ward was in him, over him, around him. He was everywhere. And talking. All the time, talking. “I love making love to you. You feel so good. You’re so beautiful Thomas.” He moved rhythmically as he spoke.

It was always like this with Ward. The slow build, the ebb and flow of sensation, like waves on the beach. Like the ocean wearing the rocks down into sand. Thomas dropped his head and surrendered to the pleasure.

They had met at the library. Ward had walked right up to the reference desk and asked for his help finding a book. Then he’d asked him to dinner.

Thomas had refused politely. Mental alarm bells had been ringing. Something about the big, soft-spoken man had scared him. Ward had looked at him as if he could see into all his secret places. "Don't look at me like that," he’d snapped.

“Okay,” Ward had said mildly. He’d left then and Thomas had been relieved and disappointed.

When the library closed Ward had been waiting for him outside. Thomas had never been pursued before. Either he agreed to a date or he didn’t. Usually he didn’t. He’d been so nonplussed he’d allowed himself to be bundled into Ward’s car. They’d gone to a diner for burgers and Cokes and just a few hours later he’d been right where he was now — on his belly, Ward’s big body moving over him, in him.

Thomas moaned and pushed back. He loved Ward. Would do anything for him. In the early days the strength of his feelings was frightening. 

For months he’d waited for Ward to tell him he’d made a mistake, that Thomas was too needy, too much work. And then, when he’d finally started to think it was okay to love Ward, there was the accident and he’d almost lost him. Except he hadn’t.

When it had really mattered, his insecurities and self-doubt had vanished and instinctively he’d done the right thing. He’d saved Ward.

Afterward when the adrenaline wore off he’d been shaking and babbling about how scared he’d been, how he couldn’t believe he’d actually managed to save him.

Ward had held him and stroked his hair. “You fight for the things you care about, Thom.”

Thomas had stared at him, surprised. Ward had seen something in him that Thomas hadn’t even known was there. It had given him faith in himself, faith in them as a couple. He’d finally let go then. Let go of his fears of rejection.

He focused on Ward, moved against him. Ward did something to him, made him feel things that no one else could. His joints were loosening, bones dissolving. His body was coming apart. He was coming undone.

He must have made some sound, maybe groaned Ward’s name.

“That’s it Thom. You’re okay, babe. I’ve got you.”

Ward moved faster, each deep sweep and slide building on the last, until Thomas was on top of the wave, riding the wave. He hung there for minutes.

“God, you’re so beautiful. I love you so much. Gonna let you fly babe.”

Thomas shook his head. He was surfing not flying. He was riding the wave.

 “It’s okay. Let go.” Ward pressed closer, tugging his hips up, moving faster and Thomas was falling, crashing.

Ward’s movements were more urgent. “Tommy, oh Tommy.”

The wave tumbled over him, his head full of churning white foam and sand.


When awareness returned Ward was lying on his back and he was lying on Ward, his head resting on his lover’s chest.

Ward was rhythmically petting him. His big hand swept back and forth over the cheek of his ass. Possessive. Soothing.

He snuggled closer to Ward and smiled a secret smile against Ward’s skin.

Ward was an unusual name, an old name. Thomas had looked it up. It meant watchman, guardian. His lover was named well. Ward watched over him, kept him safe and Thomas realized he did the same for Ward. Together they were stronger than either of them apart.

“You okay, Thom?”

Thomas looked into Ward’s eyes and smiled. “Never felt better.”

The End.

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Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Silver Flash March 9, 2011

The prompt for this week’s flash fiction was a little different. Instead of a phrase we had to incorporate three words into our story. The words are: playground, pier and diamond. I had fun with this challenge. Hope you enjoy it.


Copyright© 2011

Austin closed the front door behind him. He stood on the porch and took a couple of deep breaths to inflate his lungs, then stretched his quads and hamstrings.

Beyond the porch the rain came down in sheets of silver. Austin could barely see the house or trees across the street. He stepped off the porch and headed downhill, soaked before he’d taken more than few steps.

Austin didn’t like the rain and he didn’t like running. When he had to leave his bed to run on a rainy Saturday at the butt crack of dawn, he hated both.

He sucked it up and kept going. At times like this he thought of his dad. He’d had his first heart attack at the age of forty-six — only ten years older than Austin was now. He’d had a His dad had a second heart attack at fifty and the third and final attack at fifty-seven.

Austin thought of his mom and how devastated she’d been when his dad died. If his dad had taken better care of himself she wouldn’t have been left alone in her early fifties. It was selfish to ignore health issues and leave someone behind. He ran faster. 

He probably didn’t have to worry. His dad’s health problems had been due to his lifestyle — he smoked heavily, drank every day and lived on fried foods — but Austin wasn’t taking any chances. He had a lot to live for.

At the bottom of the hill the tree-lined street opened up and the ocean stretched away on his right. The tide was out and the smell of brine was strong.

Austin slowed as he neared the coffee shop. The windows were steamed over but he knew that inside was warmth and good, strong coffee. He kept going.

He ran past the playground with its deserted swings and abandoned merry-go-round, past another local in a yellow rain slicker, out walking his dog. Along the main street, past the ice cream and souvenir shops and the seafood restaurants — all closed at this time of year.

There was nothing gloomier than a seaside town on a rainy morning in off-season, but Austin was happy. Had never been happier than these last three years.

Almost half way through his run now if he didn’t turn off here to take the shorter route home. Austin pushed on and ran past the pub — one of the few businesses that survived year-round.

Cold, dirty rainwater splashed his calves. He could feel the grit sticking to his skin, getting into his socks.

He turned right and headed out onto the pier, the hollow thud, thud, thud of his steps keeping time with his heartbeat as he ran.

Out towards the end of the pier and a seagull sitting on the railing. As he reached the railing the seagull flew off, shrieking at him.

Austin took a minute to catch his breath and stretch his burning leg muscles before he turned and headed home. He stared out towards the horizon, as the rain dimpled the water. Heavy rain clouds blended seamlessly with the gray ocean. He couldn’t tell where the sky ended and the ocean began.

Austin turned and ran back along the pier. His steps were lighter now. He was heading home.

Back past the empty playground and the coffee shop. No desire to stop in for a coffee now. He set a grueling pace up the hill, an impatient flick of his head sending fat water drops flying off the ends of his hair.

This was always the worst part. Why the hell had he decided to live halfway up a hill? No matter which way he ran he always had to run uphill — either at the beginning or the end of his daily run. He pressed on, pushing himself, thinking of home.

On the porch he took off his soaking wet running shoes and socks and quietly entered the house.

Upstairs he hesitated, glancing fondly in the direction of the bed before he padded into the bathroom and peeled off his sodden shorts and t-shirt. The hot shower washed away the grime and sweat and warmed his chilled legs.

Austin shaved in the shower. He toweled off and pulled on a clean pair of boxers then sat on the bed to pull on his jeans.

Behind him the bedclothes rustled and strong arms wrapped around him. “Did you go running? It’s pouring out.”

“Yeah.” Austin leaned back into his lover’s embrace.

Ryan pressed sleep-warmed skin against his back. “You’re so dedicated. It’s one of the things I admire about you.”

Austin looked up and met his lover’s eyes in the mirror hanging above the dresser. Ryan was stunning with his black hair, flashing black eyes, and bronzed skin, though he wasn’t just beautiful. He was sweet and generous and the best thing that had ever happened to Austin.

He was committed to Ryan, to being with Ryan. He wanted to be with him forever. He didn’t want to leave his lover alone at an early age. It was why he ran every day, even in the winter, even in the rain. He ran for Ryan.

He watched in the mirror as Ryan trailed kisses across his shoulder and nuzzled the sensitive spot behind his ear.

Austin smiled. “One of the things? Is there more?”

“Uh huh.”

“Like what?”

Austin sucked in a breath as Ryan drew his earlobe into his mouth. His tongue played with the tiny diamond stud in the lobe of Austin’s ear.

Austin moaned.

Ryan raised his head and grinned.

“Come back to bed and I’ll show you.”

The end.
Diane Adams (M/M)
RJ Scott (M/M)
Victoria Blisse (M/F)
Heather Lin (M/F)

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Silver Flash

Here's my contribution to this week's Silver Flash. I went over the suggested 1000 words but I was enjoying writing this one and I needed to go a little longer to make the story work.

The prompt for this week was, "There's only one way out of this ..."

Finding the Balance
Copyright © 2011

Thomas watched the highway slip past the car window. The jazz quartet had been fantastic but he wasn’t sure Ward shared his enthusiasm. Ward was a rock and roll kind of guy but Thomas thought that given time, he might come to appreciate jazz.

Ward hadn’t said much at the concert or since they started the long drive home. Thomas looked over at his boyfriend. Ward gazed out into the night, focused on driving. He’d worn a jacket and tie for the concert but both were now lying on the backseat. He’d also unbuttoned the collar of his white dress shirt and rolled up his sleeves.

The lights from the dashboard highlighted his cheekbones and jaw and shadows pooled in the hollow of his throat. He looked sexy as hell. Thomas couldn’t wait to get him home and into bed, but he had the feeling that Ward might be annoyed with him.

He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “What did you think of the concert?”

Ward glanced over at him. “It was okay.”

Thomas was indignant. “Okay? It was amazing. The saxophone player was incredible.”

“It was good. It’s just not my kind of music.”

“It’s good to try new things, Ward.”

“I try new things. I’ve listened to your jazz albums with you. It’s not for me, that’s all.”

Ward sounded patient. It pissed Thomas off because he was feeling a little bit guilty.

“Why did you come then?”

“Because you wanted me to.”

“Yeah? Well I do things for you too.”

“I know, babe.”

Thomas knew he shouldn’t keep going but he couldn’t help it. “I watched that movie with you. Even though it was gross and disgusting and made me feel sick.”

Ward looked over at him, surprised. “It made you sick? Why didn’t you say something? We could have left.”

“I didn’t want to spoil it for you.” Of course he was spoiling it now. “You seemed to like it though I don’t know why. The man cuts his own arm off. How could you like that?”

“It’s man versus nature. Anyone that spends time hiking or climbing could empathize with that guy.”

Thomas was still on the defense. “Well I'm sorry I don’t like hiking.”

“It’s okay, we don’t have to do everything together.”

Thomas glared at Ward. “What’s that supposed to mean? If you didn’t want to come tonight you could have said so. I'm not going to ram jazz down your throat. I’m not trying to change you.”

But was that really true? Was he trying to change Ward, or was he just trying to share something he loved? He had been kind of pushy. Ward loved the outdoors but he’d never forced Thomas to go hiking.

Thomas started to worry. He was a skinny, out-of-shape librarian. What did Ward see in him anyway?

“Are you going to break up with me?”

Ward took his eyes off the road. “What? No. Thomas, calm down.”

He patted Thomas’s thigh as Thomas stared straight ahead, struggling to reign in his emotions.

Something ran out in front of them—its eyes a weird greenish-gold in the headlights. 

“What the hell is that?” Thomas cried.

“It’s a coyote. Shit!”

The car swerved and hit the gravel shoulder. Thomas could see they were going to miss the coyote or whatever the hell it was. The headlights stretched out into the distance, illuminating some stunted bushes and beyond that, the blackness of the lake less than ten feet below the road. Oh my God. They were going to go into the water.  

The car hit with a loud splash. They were floating, though the front of the car was starting to dip. Thomas realized his feet and shins were wet. The car was sinking. He struggled with his seatbelt.


Ward was unconscious, slumped against the door. He must have hit his head. Why hadn’t the airbags gone off?

Thomas climbed awkwardly over the console. He found the control to move Ward’s seat back and squatted beside him in the footwell. His back pressed against the steering wheel.

He stroked Ward’s hair. “Wake up hon, come on. We’ve got to get out of here.”

The instrument panel was dark. The engine must have short-circuited. Almost the entire hood of the car was under water. The water was creeping up his thighs now and his ass was wet but he couldn't leave without Ward. “Ward, please! Wake up.”

Ward opened his eyes. “What happened?”

“Ward!” Thomas was so relieved he almost cried. “We’re in the lake. We’re sinking.”

“Let's open the window and climb out,” Ward said. He rubbed his head and groaned.

“Right.” Thomas reached past Ward and fumbled with the power window controls. Nothing happened. “Shit!”

He climbed onto Ward’s lap and tried to open the door. It wouldn’t budge. Ward tried to help. He was a big man, but the pressure from the water outside the car kept the door shut.

Ward undid his seatbelt. “Get into the back.”

Thomas scrambled between the seats. Ward was too tall. He had a hard time getting into the back but Thomas dragged him over the front seats.

Thomas was in full panic mode. “We can’t get out. We’re trapped. We’re going to die!” 

“Thomas, it’s okay.” Ward was calm. “When the car’s almost full of water, the pressure will equalize. Then we can open the door and swim to safety.”

“No! We’re going to drown!”

The front of the car was angled down and the water was lapping at the backseat.

“Babe, listen to me.” Ward knelt on the backseat and cupped Thomas’s face. “There’s only one way out of this ... we have to wait and then open the door. Okay?”

Thomas tried to calm down. “Yeah.” He hugged Ward tight. “I love you, you know.”

Ward hugged him back. “I know. I love you too.”

Thomas sniffed. “If we get out of this I’ll never make you listen to jazz again.”

“We will get out of this,” Ward said confidently.

Thomas crouched on the seat and tried not to freak out. Through the back window he could see the shoreline and the flashing lights of an emergency vehicle. Someone must have seen them go in. If they could get out of the car they’d be okay.  

The water was rising quickly. It was at his shoulders now and the car was completely underwater. Thomas forced himself to stay calm. Just a little longer then they could swim to safety. Easy, no problem.

“I’m going to try to open the door. The water’s going to come in fast so swim hard, Thom.”

Thomas nodded. Ward took a breath and ducked under.

The door opened and water rushed in. Thomas sucked in a lungful of air and swam through the door. He felt Ward’s hand on his back, shoving him upwards.

Thomas broke the surface and looked for Ward. There was no sign of him. The car couldn’t be more than ten or fifteen feet under. Where the hell was Ward?

Thomas went back. No fucking way was he letting his boyfriend drown. It was dark but he could see … something. It was Ward’s white shirt.

Ward was at the back of the car struggling and tugging at his clothes. As Thomas reached him he stopped struggling. Air bubbles leaked from his mouth and nose.

No! Thomas grabbed him and pulled. He was met with resistance: Ward was caught on something. He braced his feet on the rear bumper and yanked. Fear gave him strength and suddenly Ward was in his arms. Thomas kicked hard and swam for the surface.

He dragged Ward onto the shore and laid him on his side in the recovery position — just like he’d been taught.

“Hey! Over here!” he shouted to the EMTs.  

“Come on, come on.” He rubbed Ward’s back.

Ward coughed and heaved, spewing up huge amounts of lake water.

“That’s it,” Thomas encouraged. He didn’t care what Ward liked or didn’t like, just as long as he was around to like something. He held Ward’s hand. “You’re going to be okay.”  

Ward coughed some more and then rolled onto his back. He squeezed Thomas’s hand weakly and smiled. “No, babe. We’re going to be okay.”

The End.

For more Silver Flashers follow the links below:
Julie Haynes m/m Diane Adams m/m RJ Scott m/m Lily Sawyer m/m Sui Lynn m/m L M Brown m/m Ryssa Edwards m/m Victoria Blisse m/f