Flash Fic Friday

Flash Fic Friday

**Another challenge.  This is an immense amount of fun. Enjoy**


His heart had been in the right place.  With Jonah working long hours this week, and coming home every night too exhausted to do much more than to eat a sandwich and fall into bed, Amos thought he could do something nice for his husband.  Jonah’s favorite treat was vanilla ice cream smothered in butterscotch sauce, and while he’d settle for the store bought syrup in a bottle, Amos knew the real thing really got Jonah’s motor revving.  Which was a win-win for Amos.  Jonah would get a pick-me-up, feel good treat, and Amos would get gratitude sex.  And gratitude sex was high on the list of Amos’s favorite kinds of sex.

The recipe had seemed simply enough.  Butter, brown sugar, heavy cream, vanilla and salt.  Throw it all in a saucepan and cook until it was butterscotch-y goodness.  Amos was no great cook, but he thought even he could handle that.  He’d been wrong.

Very, very wrong.

Amos read the directions four times before he began.  He got out all the ingredients, measured very carefully, and then read the recipe again.  When he felt confident he had everything down pat, he took out Jonah’s best stainless steel sauce pan and set it on the stove.  With a deep breath, and another quick glance at the instructions, Amos began.  Joy and satisfaction started bubbling up, along with the butter and sugar in the pan.

One moment’s inattention had ruined it all.

He only looked away for a second.  He swore that’s all it was.  His cell phone chimed with a text alert from his best friend.  She’d sent a video of her kitten playing with a stuffed toy.  Amos smiled and laughed, watching the tiny black ball of fur attacking the lobster that was at least as big as she was.  And when he turned back to the stove, what had once been a simmering molten lava of sugar and butter was now a sticky, black mess.

Amos groaned, and silently berated himself.  He knew he had to pay attention to the sauce.  The instructions had made that very clear.  He quickly shut off the heat and moved the pan into the sink.  He’d have to clean it and start over.  He filled the pan with hot as he could stand water and a copious dollop of soap.  A great deal of the mess washed away, but there was a coating on the pan that would not scrub clean.  Amos added more soap and rubbed harder.

Dammit all to hell.  Amos had ruined Jonah’s best pan.

The front door opened and closed, and Amos bit back a moan as he closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

“Babe?” Jonah’s deep voice called out.

Amos started to panic.  “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t come in here!”  His voice was slightly hysterical.

Of course, that brought Jonah running.  He was at Amos’s side within seconds, worry all over his beautiful face.  “What happened?”

Amos shook his head.  “I was making you butterscotch.”

Jonah frowned for a moment.  Then understanding lit his eyes.  “You got distracted, huh?”

Amos nodded miserably.  “Your pan is ruined, and I’m sorry.  I was trying to do something nice.”

Jonah sighed, but he was clearly trying to keep his amusement in check.  He nudged Amos to the side, opened the door to the under sink cabinet, and retrieved something from a yellow box.  With a flourish, he handed over a Brillo pad.  “It’s not ruined.”

Amos took the steel wool, got it wet, and started working on the black spots.  With a little elbow grease, they came clean.  Amos blew out a relieved breath and attacked the pot with renewed vigor.

Jonah’s arms snaked around his waist and he snugged his front up to Amos’s back.  Jonah’s lips were at the perfect height to kiss the back of Amos’s neck.  For just a second, Amos allowed himself to be distracted by the soft, butterfly kisses on his skin.  Then he took a swipe at one of Jonah’s hands with the Brillo pad.  He had work to do.

Jonah laughed, a carefree sound Amos hadn’t heard in too long.  Amos turned his head, stole a proper kiss, then nudge Jonah with his hip.

“Go get changed.  I’m going to get it right this time, and you’ll have perfect butterscotch sauce to go on your ice cream.”

Jonah took a deliberate step back while loosening his tie.  “That’s not where I want to put my butterscotch.”

Amos’s brow crinkled.  “Then where?”

Jonah gave a suggestive eyebrow waggle.  Amos swallowed hard, turned back to the sink, and started scrubbing harder.  He had serious motivation now.


Weirdly wonderful

There’s this weird thing that’s been happening lately.

I have this friend (wonderful and amazing) who has been giving strange challenges for the flash fics. This past Friday was his challenge, and so are the next four Friday’s. It’s a hell of a lot of fun for me and I am enjoying it very much. And for the first time since I started this blog a year ago, I’m not scrambling on Thursday night trying to get a fic written, or worse, trying to even think of something to write. I’ve got them all written and ready to go for the entire month.

And the weird and wonderful thing is that it’s lifted a weight I didn’t even realize I was carrying. And suddenly, I’m able to focus on my WIP in a way I never have before.

It’s awesome. And I’m so pleased with how the writing is going right now that I can’t even put it into words. After the slump, I don’t feel the pressure and I’m enjoying myself again. And really, shouldn’t that be what it’s all about?

So I hope you’ll tune in Friday’s this month to see all the little fics that were born from challenges. And I’m hoping to have another first draft done by the end of the month as well.

Flash Fic Friday

Flash Fic Friday

**That Ivan, he loves to give me a challenge.  And here’s the results of his latest mission.**

Something was obstructing his vision, so Aaron walked right into the lamppost.  He stumbled, his feet not working quite right, and he reached out to steady himself.  The thing that had caused him to falter was also his savior, and Aaron hooked an arm around the post and leaned.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, words not quite intelligible.  He patted the metal.  “You’re a good friend.  I’ll call you George.”

With a heavy sigh and a squint, Aaron leaned more heavily and tried to figure out why he could only see out of one eye.  He reached up and batted at the fringe, confused when it just swung and didn’t disappear.

“Aaron.”  The voice was low and commanding.  Aaron tried to look around, but something was still in his way.  Suddenly his view was unobstructed.  Aaron’s face lit up.

“Gabe!”  Aaron struggled to right himself.  “Look George!  It’s Gabe!”

Gabe gave a chuckle.  “Who’s George?”

“My friend here.”  Aaron tried to pat the lamppost, missed, and would have smashed into it face first if Gabe hadn’t suddenly grabbed him and held him close. Aaron took a deep breath of Gabe scented air.  Fuck, he loved the way the man smelled.

“Why do you have a sombrero?” Aaron asked.

“I took it off your head,” Gabe answered.  A little crease appeared between his eyes and Aaron found it ridiculously adorable.  “Just how drunk are you, bro?”

Aaron shrugged.  “There was tequila.  The good stuff.  Your hat looks like Manny’s.  Did you get it at the same time Manny did?”

Gabe gave a little sigh. “I should have known Manny was involved.”  He slid the string of the sombrero over his arm, then reached out to steady Aaron until he was upright.  Aaron gave him an appreciative smile and most of his weight.  Gabe was smaller by a few inches, and Aaron slung his arm around the man’s shoulders.

“All right, champ,” Gabe said, his voice low.  “My car is a block over.  Let’s get you home.”

Aaron nodded, and immediately regretted it.  He groaned, and started walking.  At the last minute, he remembered to call out, “Bye George!”

Before Aaron knew what was happening, he was sitting in a car.  He looked around, a little dazed, and realized he knew this car.  He knew the dashboard, and the way it smelled.  It smelled like Gabe, and since that was his favorite scent ever, he knew it well.  He leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply.  He felt a hand in his hair, and he turned toward it, nuzzling into the warm palm.

“You are the most affectionate drunk.”  Gabe’s voice was filled with amusement.

“I love you,” Aaron said fervently.

Gabe’s deep chuckle sounded loud in the confines of the car.  “Yeah, I know.”

“No,” Aaron said earnestly.  He forced his eyes open, then reached up to take Gabe’s palm between his own.  “I like, really love you.  A lot.  I think about you all the time.  I want to be more than your friend, Gabe.”

Gabe blinked, then blinked again.  Slowly he pulled his hand away, and with the same careful movements, he turned the key in the ignition.

“If you still remember this in the morning,” Gabe responded quietly, his voice barely audible over the purr of the engine, “then tell me again when you’re sober.”

Aaron nodded fast, then groaned and clutched his head.  It felt too big for his neck.  It shouldn’t feel that way.  He leaned back again.

“And tell me if you’re gonna get sick so I can pull over, for fuck’s sake.”


Aaron’s tongue felt like it was too big for his mouth.  He swallowed and grimaced. His mouth tasted like he’d been gnawing on garbage.  Slowly he sat up, his head pounding and threatening to roll off his shoulders.  His stomach roiled when he was upright, but he managed to quell the feeling.  When he was reasonably sure he wouldn’t fall over, Aaron stood and shuffled to the bathroom.

He emptied his bladder, then washed his hands.  Catching sight of himself in the mirror above the sink, Aaron blanched.  He looked like death warmed over.  Dark circle under his eyes, his skin sallow in the artificial light.

Tequila was evil.

Aaron found some aspirin in the medicine cabinet and downed three tablets.  He guzzled water straight from the tap, suddenly thirsty beyond belief.  When he was finished, he brushed his teeth and washed his face.  Done, he felt marginally more human.  Thank God it was Saturday.  He needed more sleep.  He flipped off the light and shambled back to bed.

The bed with someone sleeping on the opposite side.

Aaron sucked in a breath. How long had he fantasized about Gabe in his bed?  Years if he were honest.  He was curled up on his side, one hand tucked under his cheek. The man looked angelic in sleep.  Aaron wanted to slip back beneath the sheets and cover Gabe’s body with his own.

The instant Aaron’s ass touched the mattress, Gabe’s head jerked up.  He blinked blurry brown eyes at Aaron.  His voice was thick with sleep when he asked, “You all right, A?”

It was the blinking that jogged Aaron’s memory. He’d been pretty drunk last night, but that didn’t mean he didn’t remember.  He took a deep breath, stared into the eyes of his best friend, and told him the absolutely truth.  “I’m in love with you Gabe.  I should have told you before.  Tell me I didn’t just ruin our friendship.”

Gabe’s pink mouth curled into a soft smile.  “No, Aaron.  You didn’t ruin anything.”


The Return

I haven’t wanted to fully admit it but I’ve been in a writing slump the past couple of months.  Sure I said there was a block, and I admitted to having trouble.  But now I see that it was a real honest to goodness slump.  Yes, I’ve been writing the flash fics, often with help from other people who were presenting me with the prompts and the challenges and the inspiration.  But on the actual working on an MS front?  Nothing.  I got a few words in, twice I started something and got quite a few words, and then…it fizzled.  And I was trying to force it anyway but…

It was the post finished MS mourning period, and I didn’t give it enough time.  I tried to jump into something new too early.  And I wasn’t quite ready to let things go yet, I think.

But I’m writing again.  I’m excited about writing again.  And that feels awesome.   So the flash fics will keep coming, and the new story will keep being written.

Eventually, I need to figure out how to mourn faster.  But for now, the mourning period is done, and there are new boys striving for their HEA.  And that is good.