Category: Flash Fic Friday

**Travis and Noah are out in the world, and you can get His Needs now at all major retailers! I’ve you’ve already read it, here’s the next installment. Travis and Noah, a year later.**

I kept anxiously glancing at the clock and then at the door. I’d only been home twenty minutes, but it felt like longer. With the blizzard blanketing the area, both Travis and I had gotten called into work. Well, he’d already been there, and just had to stay longer. I’d had to go in and work an extra shift. The car accidents alone were keeping our ER hopping. Fortunately, there wasn’t anything too major. But it was a steady non-stop flow for the entire eight hour shift.

Travis had been duty going on twelve hours.

I wanted him home. More than just wanting him snuggled up with me in our cozy apartment–he’d moved in with me almost nine months ago–I was worried about him. He hadn’t slept well the night before, and now he’d been working, out in this storm, for way too long. I knew he wasn’t taking care of himself, he never did, and as I thought about it, I got even more anxious. Travis probably had spent the day drowning his hunger in coffee and not taking any breaks.

The familiar clomp of his boots on the stairs up to our front door had me jumping to my feet. I yanked open the door just as he hit our little hallway landing, and my heart stuttered. Travis had brushed the snow off as best he could, but he was still dusted in it, and his smile as he looked at me was weary. There were dark circles under his blue eyes, and the stubble covering his cheeks glittering as the flakes melted.

I grabbed his face and pulled him in, kissing him hard and fast. His skin felt frozen beneath my fingers, and didn’t waste time. Once I’d greeted him thoroughly, I tugged him inside.

“Shower,” I said firmly. “Get out of those cold, wet clothes and into a warm shower. Now.”

“Hi, baby. Good to see you. How was work?”

I squinted at his playful tone and the way his eyes sparkled with amusement. “I’ll tell you all about it. After you’re warm and dry. Go. I’ll bring you sweats.”

He captured my hand. “You could join me.”

I shook my head, but then used his grip on my to guide him toward the bathroom. “Not now. Get clean and warm.” I shoved him through the door and shut it on his laughter. I smiled, then retrieved his favorite sweat pants and sweatshirt from the bedroom. I set them, along with clean pair of boxers, on the edge of the sink, then ducked back out of the bathroom before the sight of his wet, naked body tempted me too much and buckled my resolve.

By the time he emerged fifteen minutes later, I was ready.

Travis went stock still when he saw the tree leaning against the far wall and the totes containing the Christmas decorations. With only two weeks left before the day, we were behind schedule. But we’d both been working a lot of overtime and hadn’t quite managed to make our schedules mesh. We’d talked about one or the other of us going to pick out the tree by ourselves, especially as the days wore on. I hope he wouldn’t mind that I’d taken the initiative on the way home to do just that.

“It’s perfect,” he murmured, not looking away from the tree.

I grinned, relieved. I made a point of going to the same lot he had gone to for years, and picking out a tree as close to last years as I could. I knew what he liked, and I wanted to do everything I could to make sure he liked it. It was our first together, in our home, though last year’s had felt like ours too. But this one felt even more important.

Travis crossed the room and grabbed me, wrapping me up in his thick arms and bending to tuck his face against my neck. He breathed deeply for a long moment, then kissed below my ear. I shivered a little, then gently pulled back. He was grinning.

“Thank you, baby. This is exactly what I needed.”

I waggled my eyebrows. “I’m good at taking care of your needs. Because I love you.”

“And I love you.”

I knew he did. I took his hand and led him over to the tree. “Let’s decorate our home for Christmas.”

**A little more with Spencer and Alex as they celebrate the holiday. Hope everyone who celebrated had a lovely day yesterday. And enjoy this this little scene from Alex and Spencer’s life.**

“Leave them.”

Alex looked up from where he was stacking dishes and gave me a scandalized stare. “I can’t just leave them!”

I nodded, reining in my mirth. “Yes. They’ll be there later. Besides, don’t we have a housekeeper?”

Alex glared. “To do the everyday stuff. I can’t dump seven thousand dishes on him without notice. That’s unfair and rude.”

“Fine. We’ll do them later. Just…” I blew out a breath and then held up a hand. “Everyone is finally gone, and it was so chaotic I feel like I haven’t really seen you all day. Just come sit with me for a little bit, baby. Please.”

He abandoned his stack of dishes, wiped his hands on a towel, and crossed through the dining room to get to me where I was lounging on the couch. I loved the wide open spaces in this house. It made it simple to find my man wherever he was. And damn, but did I love looking at him. From the very first moment I met him, I’d wanted him. And now I had him. It certainly hadn’t been easy, but we were in a good place and had been since last February. We worked hard to keep it that way.

Alex snuggled into my side the instant he sat down. My extra few inches made just enough difference that he could tuck his head under my chin. We liked to hold each other whenever we could, but that he burrowed in so fast clued me in to his state of mind. He needed some decompressing. The whole day had been a bit stressful, and I hadn’t made it any easier by springing it on him at the last minute. Of course, his dad and I had made a strategic move there. Because if Alex had more time to worry about it, it would have been a thousand times worse. But I had him in my arms now and that was the very best place for him.

I reached down and tipped his chin up so I could look into those beautiful blue eyes. I could see the stress, so I bent and kissed him. Softly, tenderly, but with as much heat as I could manage. Alex instantly melted against me, that tension he’d been carrying disappearing.

When I pulled back, he was panting hard, and I made sure to keep his gaze. “I am thankful for you. I am thankful you gave me that first chance and took me to bed. I’m thankful you gave me that second chance and let me back in. And I’m beyond thankful you have worked at this thing with me, made it amazing, and we have this to come home to, to rely on. I love you.”

For a long moment, Alex didn’t speak. But I could see a touch of wetness in his eyes, and he swallowed hard a few times. I smoothed his hair back from his forehead–it was darker than normal for a role he’d just filmed, and I wanted his auburn back–and waited for him to speak.

“I love you. And ditto to all that. Thankful for you and that I did that and…” He shook his head and grinned. “I love you.”

I chuckled softly. Alex often lamented the lack of script writer in his everyday life but while he wasn’t the most eloquent when his emotions were high, I thought he expressed himself just fine. I pushed him down beneath me on the couch, and Alex spread his knees so I could fit in the vee of his hips. His eyes rolled back as he pushed up, rubbing the best parts together, and I lowered my mouth to bit at his outstretched neck.

“So,” I murmured against his skin. “Where we going to put the tree?”

His bark of laughter, echoing in the large room, was music to my ears.

**Something Like Want is out! And now, here are Alex and Spencer to show us a snippet of their life. This takes place after the epilogue. Enjoy!**

I stared at my boyfriend in utter shock.

“Excuse me, what?”

Spencer just grinned. God, I loved his smile. It was the first thing that caught my attention, and there had been many times over the past year I’d been glad my punch to his face had not damaged it. It was all heat and charm, and really, all he had to do was flash it and I was at his mercy. I’d do anything for that smile.

Well, really because I loved him completely. But I blamed his smile.

“We’re going to host Thanksgiving here.”

Nope. It didn’t make any more sense the second time he said it. I shook my head. “Why?”

“Because it’s our first holiday since we moved in together. And we have this big gorgeous house. That you bought just because the kitchen and dining room were one huge open space, I might add.” Spencer sauntered closer, swagger in his walk, and his grin grew even wider. “So it makes sense to invite your family up. And a couple members of mine. And just celebrate here.”

“But…no. That’s not how it goes. My dad hosts. He does it. We go there. My dad would never allow it.”

“He already said he’s fine with it.”

I narrowed my eyes. “When?”

“A couple of weeks ago when I asked him what he thought of us doing it here.”

“What?”

Spencer grew concerned, and wrapped himself around me from behind, pulling me back to rest against him. I relaxed almost immediately, settling into his embrace. He kissed the side of my head and I let out a sigh.

“What’s the matter, baby?”

I took a breath. “Nothing, exactly. Just…you know. There’s a tradition. And my dad was big on it, so I’m just surprised.” I let out a laugh and turned around. “Plus, you know, Thanksgiving is fucking tomorrow and you haven’t said anything!”

Spence laughed, and smoothed a thumb along my jaw. His eyes were warm and soft as he looked at me and I couldn’t help but melt under his gaze. He loved me and that’s all I needed.

“I knew you’d freak out, so your dad and I decided to keep it quiet. And since you just proved me right, well….” He waggled his eyebrows and I laughed. When he pulled me back into his embrace, I let him. I breathed him in, soaking in his scent. He always smelled so good.

“There’s nothing for you to do, Alex.” His voice was soft in my ear. “The house is clean. Your dad and I are cooking. Let’s create our own tradition, hm?”

“Well, when you put it like that…” I pushed into his arms and kissed him.

***

I walked red carpets in designer tuxes. Kissed my boyfriend in public. Starred in a Steven Spielberg film and met Martin Scorsese without embarrassing myself. And never had I been as nervous as I was watching my boyfriend and father laugh and cook together in the kitchen. Dad was a practiced cook. He’d been creating meals for longer than I’d been alive. Spencer was much better at ordering take out than he was boiling water. A meal as big as this was something far beyond his abilities. But that never stopped Spencer from asserting himself. And this meal, more than any others, was my father’s pride and joy.

My sister, Rachel, had warmed up to Spence, though like a good sister, she still held a bit of a grudge. I’d forgiven him completely, and took responsibility for my part in it. Rachel said she didn’t have to let it go. I secretly kind of loved that she was still a little wary. But my dad and Spencer hit it off the moment they met. Once Dad had established that Spencer wasn’t going to hurt me, that is. I liked that they got along.

So despite their camaraderie, and in the midst of the chaos of our combined families, I hovered just out of sight and kept an eye on things in the kitchen. Because even though it was my house, I didn’t want my father to think that I, or Spencer, was trying to take away the holiday from him.

“Was…was that laughter?” Rachel’s voice was barely a whisper as she popped up beside me. She peeked around the corner, then quickly ducked back. “I’m pretty sure that was laughter.”

I nodded solemnly. I couldn’t believe it. “Go steal an olive or something. See what’s going on in there.” The space was huge, even if it was open concept, so I couldn’t exactly hear what was being said without risking getting too close.

“Okay.” Rachel nodded good-naturedly “You cause a diversion and then I’ll run in and–”

“Alexander!”

“Oh shit,” I whispered. My dad’s bellow never failed to get my attention and make me come running. It was ingrained.

I entered the kitchen just as Spencer lifted the platter of turkey and headed toward the table. He gave me a wink as he passed. I would have grinned back, but I was making a beeline for my father. Because his expression was stern, and I was well trained.

“‘Sup, Dad?”

He held the scowl for a moment longer, then his face broke out in a grin. Relief surged through me. He only grinned like that when he was truly happy.

“Thanks for hosting this year. I get to cook, and then leave the mess.” He clapped me on the shoulder, and then leaned in a little. “It’s wonderful being here. Your man is a good one. I think you’ll be very happy for a lot of years to come.”

“I think so, too.”

He shoved a bowl of mashed potatoes into my hands, then reached for the corn. With a head tip, he led the way to the table. “Call everyone in. The food’s ready. And I think we all have a lot to be thankful for this year.”

I followed him with a nod and a smile. We sure did.

**Let’s revisit Matt and Alex, from Hero Worship. Because I can never get enough of them. Enjoy!**

I didn’t normally sleep on my back, but sometimes in the act of turning over, the position felt so good I stayed there for a while. Of course, that invariably was the time Buffy hopped up on the bed and decided to get comfortable on my chest. I hated to move her, avoided it at all costs in fact, so if she jumped up I ended up staying in that spot until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I’d already been lying on my back for several minutes when I felt the mattress dip as she climbed up. Quickly, I turned onto my side, and Buffy waited patiently for me to be done before she stepped up onto me, turned around several times, kneaded my hip with her sharp little claws, and they finally settled down.

I gave a tiny smile, and breathed out, relaxing under her warm weight.

I felt Alex’s hand creep up my back, over my side, and then gently but firmly, nudged Buffy off of me. She moved only when she had to, then jumped off the bed with a loud thump and padded away. Alex curled is arm around me and pulled me back into him.

“Don’t know why you let the cat in here,” he muttered against the back of my neck.

“She’s used to sleeping with me. You work nights more often than not.” It wasn’t an accusation, just a statement of fact. Even still Alex stiffened for a moment before relaxing. I didn’t love sleeping without him, but he loved his job, and was a damn good paramedic. I would never deprive him of that. Even if I’d rather have him home with me at night.

Alex pulled me in even tighter. “You have me tonight. You don’t need her.” He growled a little, playing at being possessive, and nipped the back of my neck.

I grinned in the darkness, arching back, making sure my ass pushed against his groin. “She’s less bitey.”

His chuckle was wicked. “You like the biting.”

“I like to do the biting,” I corrected, breaking his hold so I could turn over and face him. He hadn’t been prepared, so even though he was slightly bigger and heavier, I was able to gain the upper hand. I had him pinned to the mattress below me in seconds, and his body when lax in my hold. I could barely make out his face in the very dim light shine through the crack int he curtains, but what I could see was full of love and lust. Just like I liked him.

I bent my head so I could get my lips on his throat. Kisses first, then biting.

Alex breathed out, tilting his chin back so I could have all the access I wanted. “Love you, Matthew Edward Carter-Sullivan.”

I moaned as I ground my hips against his . He knew how much I loved hearing my full name, hearing our last names linked together. “Someone’s looking to get fucked.”

He grabbed my face, pulling it down to his. “Always,” he said, and then kissed me hard. When he pulled back for breath, we were both panting. He kept his lips close as he added, “Doesn’t make it any less true. I love you.”

I grinned, reached for the lube, and said, “I love you too.”

**The Something Like books are back on the shelves and available for purchase! A great big thanks to everyone who has already picked them up. If you haven’t and want to, buy links at the end of the post. But in the meantime, enjoy a flash fic featuring the boys. Dan had a story to tell, and it’s NSFW, but the guys from the other books make cameos. I hope you enjoy!**

For thirty-two days, the house had been filled to the brim. There hadn’t been a moments peace in over a month. But now, we were finished shooting, the wrap party was over, and the cast and crew were all gone. Well, Aaron had driven out to join Lucas yesterday, and Brandon and Jared decided to stick around for a bit and have some time together. They’d all given up their rooms at the inn and had moved into guest rooms in Vincent’s house for their impromptu vacations. Vincent was happy to have them, having gotten to know them better over the course of shooting. I just wanted our solitude back. And for the evening, while our guests were out, we had it.

Which was why I was currently sated, sore, and sticky, and my boyfriend’s softening cock was still lodged in my ass.

The sun room was my favorite place in the whole house, and Vincent loved to work out there. So as soon as our guests had left, I knew exactly where to find him. And I knew what would happen when I walked out there completely naked. He’d ravaged me, exactly what I needed, and now I rested against him, my cheek pillowed on his shoulder. It was sort of thrillingly sexy he’d only gotten undressed enough to get his dick out while I was completely bare.

Vincent held me tightly to him, one hand rubbing up and down my back, the other touching the rim of my hole where his cock was still stretching me. I shuddered and settled into the touch. One of the first things Vincent had taught me was how much I loved ass play, and having him touch me even when I was pleasantly sore and filled with his cum was one of my favorite things. Sometimes he fingered me afterwards for a long time, until I was once again hard and begging him to fuck me. We didn’t have that kind of time tonight, but I still liked him touching me there. That was one of our things, and it helped me to feel grounded in us.

It had only been two days since we admitted our love for each other. And we’d had very little time to just be.

“Love you,” Vincent murmured in my hair then kissed my temple. It was like he could read my mind. Sometimes, I honestly thought he could.

I snuggled in deeper, something a man of my height shouldn’t really be able to do. “Me too. Love you.” I sighed contentedly.

“That’s sweet, but are you two done fucking? Can you let us in?”

I jerked at the sound of Aaron’s voice, and bristled at the amusement there, but Vincent held me fast against him so I couldn’t move.

“Thought you were going to a double feature at the Blue Fox Drive-In?” he asked mildly.

“Ugh,” Aaron said, and from his tone I could practically imagine the disgust on his face. “The second movie was some horrible thing about genius babies. We left after the first five minutes. Really, can you open the door?”

“Go away. I’ll come open the front door in a minute.” Vincent was using his director voice and I heard Aaron scurry away. There was no way he was going to ignore that voice. None of us could. We were too ingrained to listen.

“If I were ten years younger,” I grumbled, slowly sitting up. I tried not to moan at the loss of his dick. “I’d be blushing with embarrassment.”

“Thank god you’re too old for that.” Vincent wrapped a hand gently around my neck and pulled me forward to kiss me soundly before he let me go. I was breathing heavily, and Vincent just grinned his wicked smile. “Wrap up in that afghan and go clean up, while I let the jackasses back in.”

I could tell by his affectionate tone he didn’t really mean it. I knew he was glad they were here. I was too. Not the getting caught freshly fucked part, of course. But having the people I was closest to here with me while we took some time off was really nice. I kissed Vincent again, then did as he said.

***

By the time I reemerged, Vincent had pulled the blackout curtains over the picture window so no ambient light could come in, and lowered the movie screen that hung over his fireplace. Brandon was in Jared’s lap on the loveseat, and Aaron was stretched out on the couch with his head on Lucas’s thigh. Lucas was running his fingers over Aaron’s short hair and smiling softly.

Vincent had pushed the ottoman up against his overstuffed chair, and he’d splayed his legs so there was no doubt whatsoever where I was supposed to sit. I’d gotten used to being open with my affection over the last few weeks, and I didn’t hesitate to do just that, leaning back into Vincent’s strong chest. I laid my head over his heart, listening to its steady thump, and loving the sound more than I could say.

I smiled as the movie started playing, a classic John Wayne film that not one of us could find fault with. I settled in, and released a soft sigh of contentment. Wrapped up in Vincent’s arms was where I always wanted to be, and it was made all the better by sharing it with the other guys. Lucas was my closest friend, and Aaron and I had a bond that went deep. I’d gotten to know Brandon when he guest starred on the show, but even more so, and Jared too, while we’d shot the film. Having them all here filled me with a sense of peace I couldn’t explain.

I didn’t try to. I just turned my head so I could kiss my boyfriend’s chest, right over his strong heart, and then relaxed into it. Love, friendship, and peace were all I needed.

Something Like Hope: Amazon or ARe

Something Like Trust: Amazon or ARe

Something Like Peace: Amazon or ARe

**Did you get a chance to read Love and Cupcakes? Book tab at the top has all the buy links. But in the meantime, let’s check in with Evan and Mal again. Enjoy!**

I wouldn’t let him bring the frosting to bed.

I was all for sexy fun times including the decadent confection, but there was no way I wanted it all over the bed. Though sheets could be washed, last night had shown me that things could get rather…vigorous between us. I didn’t want to be cleaning frosting off the mahogany headboard. Mal had pouted about it for about ninety seconds. But then I showed him how much fun the kitchen could be. Bleaching the table and mopping the floor was a lot easier. And needed to be done anyway after our baking session the night before.

I wet a cloth and tossed it to Mal where he was sprawled out on the kitchen floor. He grinned shakily and slowly lifted it to clean off his dick.

“How did you do that?” he asked, his voice a mixture of exhaustion and awe.

I smiled cheekily. “I really like frosting.”

Mal burst out laughing and I joined in, waggling my eyebrows at him and adding, “And I have no gag reflex.”

Mal’s laughter cut off, and apparently the post sex stupor was all an act because he surged up from the floor and captured me before I could take one step. He pulled me in close, holding me tightly, and then backed me against the counter so he could press fully up against me. Pressing his face down against the crook of my neck, he breathed deeply for a long moment before he gave my skin a soft kiss.

I reveled in the closeness. We’d had an amazing night, but had spent the better part of the day at his grandfather’s 80th birthday party. It had been amazing. I knew his family as well as my own, and I loved spending the very special day with them. But it was made even more important by Mal telling anyone who asked that he and I had finally gotten our act together were a couple now. The fondness on his face when he looked over at me when he said it did funny things to my heart. But as awesome as the day had been, we hadn’t gotten to spend that much time actually together and I was craving the closeness.

“We should have done this years ago,” Mal said softly as he lifted his head. Lust and love shone in his eyes, and my heart picked up it’s pace with the surge of adrenaline seeing it caused.

“I was hoping for it,” I confessed. I’d never kept anything from Mal, except for my desperate attraction to him, and now that it was out in the open, it was like a huge weight I didn’t know I was carrying had been lifted.

He kissed me softly, but it was still full of heat and want, and when he pulled away, I whimpered and tried to follow. He chuckled affectionately, and cupped my face in his big hands so I was forced to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see it for so long.” His apology was heartfelt, but I shook my head. Well, as much as his grip would allow.

“Nothing to be sorry for. You weren’t ready. You didn’t see me that way.” I took a deep breath. “And now you do. So it’s all good.”

He growled playfully, and pulled me in tightly so not even a breath of air could get between us. “It’s gonna be so good. I love you, Evan.”

“And I love you,” I said sincerely. And then grinned as I wiggled out of his embrace. “Now. If you can get it up again, I expect you to fuck me hard over the side of the bed while you say it. Repeatedly.”

I took off down the hall with Mal right on my heels. He was my best friend and my love. I didn’t need anything else.

When I first got the invitation, I dismissed it out of hand. I had no interest in going. I hadn’t liked high school much when I’d actually attended, though I hadn’t had an overly bad experience, and I was barely friends with anyone I’d been friends with then. Social media was the only interaction I had with them these days. It had been ten years, and I had no desire to relive it.

But then I heard the rumors.

Nick had been a god in high school. Beautiful and perfect, with startling deep blue eyes and dark hair. He’d been on the cross country team and was ridiculously fit. And he’d been kind and charming. He was everyone’s friend, and just a genuinely nice guy. I’d spent all of junior and senior years with a crush so hard my heart pounded and I turned bright red every time I saw him. Our circles had intersected a little–friends of my friends were friends with his friends–so we’d interacted sometimes outside of classes. Though I always became a tongue tied mess, Nick never seemed to notice. Not my awkwardness, and not my insane crush. I was okay with him not noticing, because I would rather be invisible to the straight, perfect jock, then for him to tease or worse, show me revulsion. I was happy to admire him from afar.

So when the rumors started to circulate and make it onto my feeds and timelines, I paid attention. It seemed Nick had recently come out of the closet. I never suspected it back then, though my teenage heart wished for it fervently. I dismissed it at first, not wanting to get my hopes up. But then someone retweeted his tweet, and I had confirmation.

Suddenly that invitation to the reunion was appealing. Because I wanted to see him.

The ballroom at the hotel was packed. Our gradating class had been almost four hundred. Even though I was sure not everyone had shown up, adding in spouses and significant others, and the numbers swelled again. Everything was decorated in shades of black and gold. It was just this side of tacky but knowing who was in charge of the reunion, I wasn’t surprised in the least. I had no problems ignoring the decor, and I headed right for the bar to grab a drink and unobtrusively mingle.

And watch for Nick.

I was surprised to find, after an hour or so, that I was actually enjoying myself. Not the most fun I’d ever had but it wasn’t unbearable. I’d landed on the outskirts of a group of people I’d hung out with back then, and was listening with half an ear as the conversation swirled around me. I periodically scanned the crowd, making mental notes of who looked better, worse, or the same. It was interesting how many people I actually recognized. I was so lost in my mental game that when I spotted him, my body reacted to hot guy first before I recognized it was him.

Quickly I excused myself from the conversation I’d been peripherally involved in and made a beeline for the bar. The last ten years had been kind to him and he was even more gorgeous than I remembered. Those piercing blue eyes locked on mine as I approached, and then went hooded as he took me in, his gaze sweeping from head to toe. I tried not to preen as I saw the appreciation in his eyes. And because I was focused on those deep blue eyes, I saw the moment recognition dawned. He almost choked on the swallow of beer, and he coughed as he tried to get his breathing back.

“Avery? Is that you?” he asked, disbelief in his tone. “Holy shit! You look fantastic!”

For a moment, I was the chubby, insecure seventeen year old I’d once been. My heart started to pound and my palms started to sweat. I couldn’t believe he recognized me, and I never imagined he would remember my name. I’d changed a lot in the intervening years. I’d worked hard to shed the pounds, to get fit and toned and to stay that way. That he noticed, and liked what he saw, was a bit of a shock. But to be appreciated by this gorgeous man, someone I still thought of occasionally, felt incredibly good.

I made a split second decision, shedding the insecurities, and deciding to go for it. I turned up my most charming smile, the one that got me laid when I went out looking for a hook-up, and leaned into his space just a little.

“Hey, Nick,” I said, letting my voice drop into the lower register. I swiped my tongue across my bottom lip. “You look as amazing as always.”

He swallowed, and I watched as the lust blew his pupils. Then he took a step closer to me so that I had to tilt my head back a bit to keep his gaze. He looked me over again.

“It’s really good to see you,” he said, sounding just a little breathless. “I had wondered if you were going to be here.”

My heart gave a stuttering thump, and a grin stretched my lips.

“I wasn’t going to show, but then I heard about you,” I admitted, laying it all on the line. I was reasonably sure that my advances weren’t going to be dismissed. “I wanted to see my high school crush again.”

He inhaled sharply, and his gaze dropped to my mouth.

“You had a crush on me?” His voice was barely a murmur.

“So hard,” I answered suggestively.

Nick took that final step into my space. We were so close that every time we inhaled, our chests touched. He licked his lips as his gaze remained fixed on my face. He took deep breath, and then leaned down to speak in my ear. “Want to get out of here and go get coffee or something?”

“Or something,” I agreed, angling my body so my semi-hard dick brushed against his hip.

Nick gave a shiver as he stepped back, then grabbed my hand and practically yanked me after him.

I couldn’t stop grinning.

**Thought I’d do a something a little different today and repost one of the first flash fics I wrote. It’s been two and a half years, and this one was always one of my faves. Enjoy!**

His job had transferred him out of state and I had been heartbroken.  After eight months of building a solid relationship, he was moving to the other side of the country.  How could fate be so cruel?  But he had sworn to me that he didn’t want to give me up, that what we had was worth it, worth everything, and we would make long distance work where so many couples before us had failed.

At first, it had been wonderful.  Every evening, we’d skype and it was almost as good as being together.  I couldn’t touch him, smell him, taste him, but it was almost and it was what he had.  We’d carry our laptops with us as we went about cooking dinner, watching TV, life in general, talking about our days and our lives.

But then, after six months of that, he’d started to pull away.  He’d make excuses; say he had to work late or that he’d had to meet a client for dinner.  I’d tried to talk to him about it, suggest that we should maybe take a break, but he was adamant that was not what he wanted.  It was a rough patch, we would get through it.  But lately, our skype dates were coming fewer and farther between.  And as I sat there in the corner, staring at the laptop and waiting for him to call, my heart was breaking.  Because this was the fifth time he’d simply not called when he said he would.  Afterwards he sent emails and texts, swearing it was unforeseen and he was so, so sorry.  And I kept falling for it.

“So what’s his excuse this time?” my roommate’s voice startled me.  I jumped but didn’t look at him.  “Or did he just blow you off again?”

I didn’t respond.  There was nothing I could say.  Quickly, Julian was across the room, kneeling before my chair.  I couldn’t look at him.  He was beautiful and kind and loving, but he was my best friend.  And I was committed to someone else.

Julian’s warm hands gripped my calves.  “Forget him, Henry.  He’s not worth it.  Never was.”

I couldn’t respond.  Didn’t know how.  Julian’s sentiment echoed my own, mostly.  There had been a time when…the chime from the laptop interrupted my thoughts.  I was receiving a call.  Three hours late, but there he was.

Before I could react, Julian reached over and snapped the laptop shut.  He shoved it off the bed and it landed with a thump on the plush carpet.  I opened my mouth to protest, to say something, anything.  But Julian was quicker, rising up on his knees, and pressing his soft lips to mine. I couldn’t believe it, didn’t even know how to react, but Julian was not dissuaded.  He kissed me gently, coaxingly, until I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him back with equal fervor.

He pulled back, both of us panting for air, and gave me a soft smile.  His big hands framed my face and forced me to look at him.  “You’re mine, baby.  Always have been.  So you’re done with that jerk.  And you are never going to hurt again.”

I didn’t like practical jokes. I very rarely thought they were funny. To me, they felt mean. I knew I was in the minority, but I didn’t like to laugh at others. I didn’t like it when people made fake announcements that were supposed to be happy or shocking, and then take it all back. I found it hurtful more often than not. It made me uncomfortable.

So this day, April 1st, was one I dreaded with everything in me. I steered clear of social media. I didn’t watch TV because even self-respecting news programs got into the horrid “holiday.” I even took the day off of work, just so I could hide at home. Instead I immersed myself in a good book and ignored the world all day.

So when my phone started blowing up with text messages and Twitter and Facebook notifications, all congratulating me on my engagement, I was shocked. At first. And then I started to get wary and confused. And the more messages that came in, the more confused I got. Until it started to boil over into anger.

It didn’t take long to figure out what happened. As message after message popped up, I cautiously scrolled through my notifications until I came to the one that started it all. A tweet of a message cross posted from my boyfriend’s Facebook page. “Luke and Michael happily announce: WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!!!” with me tagged at the end and several little heart emojis.

I gasped, then choked, and then nearly threw up. How dare he do something like this? He knew how much I despised this sort of thing on this day! We weren’t some sort of April Fools joke. How could he treat us like one? My heart hurt even as my anger burbled over into rage, and I called him even knowing he’d be in the middle of his work day.

“Hey baby,” he answered on the second ring, his voice low and smooth and full of love and affection. Usually, that voice had me grinning and melting, but not today.

“How could you?!” I ground out, my temper taking over. I shoved a hand into my hair and pull at the strands. “How could you do this to me? To us? You know how I feel about this!”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” he soothed, and I heard him stand up from his desk, the rattle and bang of his chair familiar. “What are you talking about? Michael, what happened?”

“You!” I all but shouted. “With that fake announcement on your Facebook wall! What kind of shit is that?”

“What do you mean?” I heard the genuine confusion in his tone. “Was I not supposed to announce it yet? I didn’t think that would be a problem.”

I was brought up short. Then I squinted my eyes, even though he wasn’t here to see. I needed to make sure we were on the same page. “Luke, what are you talking about?”

“Last night, I asked you to marry me and you said yes. So today I posted it. I didn’t give any details. I was just so happy I couldn’t contain it and I wanted the world to know.”

“When did I ever…” I trailed off as the memory resurfaced. Of us naked and sweaty and his cum and lube drying on my skin. Of the love that filled his eyes as he pulled me in close and he said he loved me more than anything and we should get married. And me agreeing, sated and happy, snuggling in closer, content in a way only he made me feel. I groaned, and slumped back on the couch. My voice was a mere whisper when I spoke, “I thought we were just, you know, starting to talk about it. I didn’t realize it was a proposal.”

Dead silence from his end. I swallowed hard, suddenly scared I’d hurt him. I opened my mouth, ready to call his name, but he spoke first.

“Do you want to marry me?”

And I got what he was asking. He wanted to know if it was something I even wanted, if I was ready. And the truth was, I was very ready. We’d been dating for two years, exclusive and in each other’s back pockets for nearly that whole time. He got me like no one else, and even though he’d yet to reach a quarter of a century and I was past three decades, I loved the holy hell out of him. I wanted him by my side forever.

“Yes,” I said, firmly and full of conviction. “Very much so.”

His sigh of relief was loud. “Okay, well. Awesome. Good. We’re getting married. And I told the world already. So we’re good.”

I grinned, because I loved him. “On April Fools day,” I groused, only half meaning it.

He gave a low chuckle. “Yeah, I didn’t even think of it being the first. Oh well. Anyone who knows us will know that we meant it, no matter what day we announced it.”

And the truth was, he was absolutely right.

**Whether you celebrate it as a Christian holiday, or are just in it for the eggs, bunnies, and chocolate, or both!, here’s wishing you a very Happy Easter!**

“Guys, come on!” I called out, picking up my keys from the sideboard, and grabbing the light jackets off the hooks by the door. “We’re going to be late!”

There was a patter of small feet, and then our five year old son Damian rocketed into my knees. It was his favorite game, so I obligingly pretended he was about to knock me over. I stumbled back dramatically, scrabbling against the wall to stay upright. Damian chortled, a sound much deeper than his small body should have been able to produce.

“Don’t fall, Daddy!” He screeched, his voice pitching up, responding to my dramatics. This too, was part of the game.

I clutched at my chest, playing along. And then I realized what he was wearing. His pants, vest, and bow tie were white. His dress shirt a pale robin’s egg blue. His blond hair was plastered to his head with his papa’s gel. And his shoes were also white and very shiny.

“What are you wearing?” I asked, just a little incredulously. Damian looked down at himself and then back up at me, his blue eyes wide and guileless, and then shrugged.

“Papa did it,” he accused. I fought to keep the grin off my face. He’d learned the blame game from us, a thing we’d done since we first started dating ten years ago.

“Mike, honey, what did you dress our son in?”

Mike’s eyes, so blue that everyone always mistook him for Damian’s biological father, gave me a wide grin. “Look at our son, Joe. Isn’t he just too adorable for words?”

He did look cute, this boy we’d adopted just six months ago. From the moment we brought him into our home, we knew he was ours. He’d been living in not the best of situations, and his mother had finally given up custody. But though Damian had been through hard times, he adapted quickly, and after a rocky first couple of months, he was now a smiling, happy, well adjusted little boy.

“Yes. He’s the best looking kid ever,” I agreed softly, and I cupped my hand around our son’s cheek. Then I gave Mike a pointed look. “But as cute as he is, it’s not exactly appropriate for what we’re doing, you know?”

Mike blinked. Then he shouldered the bag he was carrying, and shoved us both toward the door. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”

***

An hour later, I had to admit that watching the perfectly dressed adorable child run around with all the other well dressed children while looking for hidden Easter eggs had been just too perfect for words. Mike had his camera out, the expensive one with the lenses that he wouldn’t let me touch, and he’d photographed our son to within an inch of his life. But now the eggs were all unearthed and the organizers of the egg hunt and community picnic were gearing up for the rest of the fun and games. I wanted Damian to participate, but he’d ruin his clothes. And it couldn’t be comfortable either. I frowned again in Mike’s direction, unable to believe he had dressed our kid this way.

As if my thoughts conjured them, my husband and son came running toward me, laughing for all the world. Damian fell down in my lap, his cheeks pink and his eyes happy. Mike snapped a few more pictures, then carefully put his camera in the case. As soon as he was done, he told Damian in no uncertain terms that it was time for a potty break. Damian knew better than to argue, and though he dragged his feet a little, Mike took him to the bathroom on the far side of the park.

I leaned back against the tree where Mike and I had spread out our blanket, and just absorbed the laughing, shreking, happy sounds of children playing and having a good time. The youngest were infants, the oldest maybe ten or twelve. But every last one of them seemed happy, and I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

It grew even wider when Mike and Damian emerged from the bathroom, this time with Damian dressed in a pair of khaki’s and a polo shirt. Still on the nice side, but a lot more practical for running around and playing games. He tugged on Mike’s hand and pointed frantically to the jungle gym just ten feet away. Mike ruffled his hair and motioned him on. Damian tugged his hand and spoke earnestly, and only when Mike nodded gravely did he finally run off to play.

A moment later, Mike was at my side and I lifted my arm so he could snuggle in.

“He wanted to make sure I’d be watching,” Mike murmured.

“Of course,” I said. “As if you’d take your eyes off him.”

“And he wanted to know I’d protect his eggs and not let ‘that mean Molly’ take them.”

I laughed and kissed his temple, before glancing at the basket were he’d carefully horded the ten or so brightly colored eggs he’d rooted out from their hiding place. They were plastic and no doubt filled with chocolate. We’d have to be careful to dole that out. Too much sugar, and Damian got sick. Mike did too, for that matter.

“As if you’d let anything happen to his treasure.”

Mike grinned and nodded. “He trusts us, Joe. He really does now. To be there. To take care of him.”

“Yes. He does.”

Mike’s eyes welled up, but he kissed me quickly, and then leaned back in my arms. He didn’t say anything as he turned his attention to our son. I watched him watch Damian. No words were needed. Our family was finally complete.