Fire

My name is Sam. I’m a firefighter. As the city was in the grips of an arsonist, I found my destiny. I wasn’t looking for it, but I don’t think anyone ever is. I knew I was gay, really understood what it meant, when I was thirteen. I remember looking through the big holiday catalogs when I was younger than that, looking for toys and finding the men’s underwear section and staring, enjoying what I saw. I didn’t understand what I felt though. But when I was thirteen, it all changed. I was with a friend; we spent the summer discovering the wonders of love. But the following year, during Labor Day weekend, Jake was killed in a boating accident. He was gone and I spent the rest of my time alone. No one wanted to play like Jake did. Okay, I was afraid of rejection and ridicule.

I graduated from high school and entered college. While there I fucked for the first time. He was a slut, but I was horny. I used a condom and fucked him rough. He was loose and he had greased himself up before I got there. From that point forward, I chose to have discreet encounters. I didn’t kiss and I never bottomed or forgot a condom. While in college, I became a volunteer in the fire department. When I graduated, I joined the force full time. I moved up the ranks, being known as fearless. I did my job and enjoyed it.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t out to my coworkers. These men, and a few women, are your family. You must trust them with your life and accept that they trust you with theirs. But I couldn’t tell them I was gay. I wasn’t ashamed, but I kept it a secret. If I had been out before I started work, maybe I would have been open to them. But I don’t know. I stood in the showers with them and I noticed them, but they were my coworkers, not items of desire. I had a few personal rules about whom I sleep with: no one at work, and no wedding rings. I never understood how anyone could be both gay and married. Wedding vows are sacred, even if I will never get to say them.

Only one of my coworkers did I look at twice. His name was Bill. He was thirty-three and married. He and his wife had seven kids. He was handsome, very quiet, and one of the hardest workers I have ever met. He was a friend and my mentor. I loved him like a brother and would gladly lay down my life for him. But what made me look at him was his manner with his wife. Whenever the two of them were together, it was as if everything else faded. They knew where the other was in a room. There was always a gentle touch or kiss. They looked in each other’s eyes and you wanted to look away because it felt like you were intruding on something very personal and intimate. When I would see him, I knew he never, ever cheated on her. A few of the other guys were like that, content and happy with their wives.

I wasn’t open about it, but I do get out from time to time. My hand did okay for a few weeks, a couple of months. But sometimes I needed to be with someone every once in a while. So I would head out to the lone gay bar in town. I would hang out for a bit and then make a move. I never forget a face and I never went home with the same guy twice. Once at their place, I would go at it all night if I wanted, but I would leave before dawn. One of the arsonist’s first targets was the bar I hung out at. So after a few weeks, I ended up at the bar that most of the firefighters hang out at. It was called ‘O’ Tooles’ and was started by a firefighter forced to retire due to burns and injuries. He left it to his nephew when he died. Unfortunately, the nephew died a few years ago, leaving it to someone who no one ever saw. I do go there for parties and celebrations with the crew, but that night, all I wanted was a few drinks.

While sitting there, drinking quietly at the bar, I saw him. He was tending bar away from me, but there was something about him. I didn’t think it was his looks, maybe the way he carried himself, but I could tell he was attracted to me. We did the silent flirting that two people tend to do. I watched him pour drinks, but his eyes were seldom away from mine. I sat there and cataloged him. He was about five-eleven and had black hair. His dark eyes and luscious, full lips were always smiling. His hair was short, wavy and a little spiky. He was beautiful. His olive skin hinted at ancestors kissed by the Mediterranean sun. I kept thinking more and more erotic thoughts about him.

I decided to step up the seduction and polished off my drink and signaled for another. While fixing it, he talked to me. Turns out his name’s Max. He owns the bar, had for the past few years, but didn’t work there until recently. He was a chef and usually worked in the kitchen but was covering for the regular bartender. We chatted and talked, shared a few coy laughs. We decided to head out to his place.

I drove, following Max. We ended up at an apartment complex. It was five stories, and had twenty units to it, four per floor. Max was on four, at the end. Once inside, Max became nervous. Not enough to ask me to leave, but enough that I slowed things down. He fixed us something to eat. It was a mixture of bacon and cheese on top of crackers. It was hot and spicy and tasted delicious. He was an amazing cook obviously. I didn’t want to hear the small talk; I just wanted a fuck. But, I could pull back and make nice.

I found out Max and his former partner took over the bar from his uncle. Max worked in a restaurant downtown that I had heard of, but never went to. When Max’ partner, John, died in a car accident, Max inherited the bar. He didn’t go near it for the first couple of years after he died, but he decided to go for it. I admired the courage to give up a well-liked, good paying job and devote yourself to someone else’s dream. I told him so and he smiled, relaxed like he hadn’t been able to before. Now was the time, he was ready.

I moved toward him, like I was scenting him, ready to mate. I skimmed the backs of my fingers along his cheek. I skimmed them down to the buttons of his shirt. I started undoing them. As each button was opened, bronze skin and a light sprinkling of silky, black hair was revealed. I felt warm skin and rippling muscle as I moved lower and lower. I felt the ridges of his stomach and how they trembled below my hand. Max was breathing heavily, panting. His eyes were glassy.

I slipped his shirt off him, enjoying the sight of his well-shaped torso. He was nicely defined and his chest hair thinned to a silky, thin trail down to his waistband. I moved down to his feet and slipped off his shoes and pulled off his socks. His feet were strong, slightly sprinkled with more dark hair, and warm. I ran my hand up his legs; they were thick and sturdy. I enjoyed their shape and strength. I undid his belt and the top button of his jeans. I undid the snaps of his fly and pulled them away from him. I skimmed the heavy denim off his legs so he was sitting before me in tight, white briefs. They were tented and such a contrast to his dark skin and darker hair. I slid them down and off and admired his erection, which was long, thick and straight. He was dripping and it was an angry, aroused red more so than just a little petting would indicate. I wondered how long it had been for him.

I knelt in front of the couch and leant towards him. I tasted the salty, dripping tip, enjoying the flavor. He arched and moaned. I took him slowly into my mouth, swirling my tongue, trying to wring pleasure from him. I let the flare of his head snag on my lips, tugging gently, forcing further moans out of Max. I pursed hard and added as much suction as I could before diving for the base, lodging him in my throat. I felt him buck his hips, grinding the head into my soft palette. I liked the slight tickle of his generous, silky pubic hair against my nose. I may never kiss or bottom, but I never leave my partner unsatisfied.

I kept a brisk pace on him, moving him in and out of my throat expertly. My tongue complimented my mouth and I had him in warm, wet ecstasy. He reached out and ran his fingers through my hair. The gesture was tender and warm. It made me feel uncomfortable. This was just sex, it wasn’t supposed to be romantic. So to keep him off-kilter, I sped up on him. I felt him thicken, his testicles raised and his breath came in harsh pants. The end was near. With one final, deep plunge, I felt him release. His first spurt was lost down my throat, but I caught and savored the rest. I kept it in my mouth, feeling his thick essence and tasting his sweetness.

I pulled off Max and looked at him. He had a silly grin and a vacant, sated look in his eyes. I flipped him over the arm of the couch and quickly stripped. I grabbed a condom and sheathed myself. I knelt between his legs on the couch and lowered so I could let his cum lubricate the next step. I spit it into his crack and worked it into him with a couple of fingers. He was tight and clasped me with a great rhythm. I couldn’t wait to be inside him. I grasped his shoulders and pushed against him slightly. He parted for me and I slid into a velvet fist. His sheath clung to me, begging me to go deeper. I started to move slowly, amazed at how easily Max was taking my length. He was totally relaxed and moved with me expertly. His motions were driving me over the edge. Each time I would pull out, his inner muscles pulled me back. I was building quickly.

I had him pinned to the couch, arching into him with each thrust. Both of Max’ hands were bracing him on the floor. I kept pushing, feeling my load build. I had never been with anyone so completely able to let go and just get into the fuck. He didn’t cry and whine about my overly endowed size, he just let me move and met me courageously. I felt myself thicken, tightening up. My stomach muscles clenched, becoming a tough washboard. My thighs became weak and my back arched involuntarily. I cried out as I emptied myself into the condom. With one final, deep thrust, I felt Max let go, clamping me as he found his own release. I was amazed. I had been with others and none of them got off without a reach around or they themselves jerking off. But he was cumming and cumming hard. His cries were animalistic groans and I was charmed and humbled that I brought him to this moment.

I slid out of him and sat back on the couch, trying to catch my breath. Max rolled over and sat beside me, also trying to regain his breath. After a couple of minutes, he looked at me. I don’t know why but we both burst out laughing. It felt good to laugh with someone. It also felt good sitting next to someone who was naked and just as sexually drained as you are. I noticed the differences between us. I am about six-three. Where he has dark hair, mine is golden. His chest is lightly, sparsely covered; mine is thick, almost too thick to run your fingers through. It is springy and soft and covers me from collarbone to waist. It is only thin after my abdominal muscles end. I have a patch over my ass but that is also very hairy, as are my legs and arms to about mid-biceps. The contrast was different and I liked it, a lot. Which is probably why I started to feel uncomfortable and started getting dressed. Max looked a little confused then some sort of wall came up as he walked me to the door. I had never been at a loss for something to say; usually some banality or false promise. But I couldn’t do that to Max. There was something different about him. I just didn’t want to analyze it. I wanted out, where I wouldn’t feel this flighty need to run. I turned from him and left, knowing I had probably hurt him.

Try as I might, sleep eluded me that night. I kept thinking about how different Max was from the previous, nameless guys I had been with. He reminded me of Jake. Not in his appearance, but in my reaction to him. Normally a good fuck and I was fine. I hardly thought of it once I was home, other than to acknowledge that I was sated. But I couldn’t stop thinking of the physical perfection that we had shared. I finally drifted off about an hour before dawn and awoke to sweaty sheets and an erection so hard that it hurt. I took a long cold shower and finally jerked off to get it to go away, all the while thinking of the previous night.

I found myself thinking a lot about Max over the next couple of days. It got to the point that two nights after our initial encounter had me back in that bar. I told myself it was for a drink, but the moment I saw him behind the bar I knew I was full of shit. I wanted another round. From the frosty look I got, I knew it was going to be an uphill battle. But it was too good for me to give in so easily. I sat down and ordered a drink, forcing Max to come over and deliver it to me. He did so, but rather than anger, he was smiling at me. He told me he was glad to see me. Now I am totally confused. I was all set to appease his hurt, and he didn’t need it. I asked him if he wanted to leave with me. He nodded and I polished off my drink then drove to his place. He showed up about ten minutes later.

He wasn’t nervous this time. We went straight to his bedroom and stripped. He demonstrated his oral talent on me. I was writhing in ecstasy. He was magnificent. I didn’t want to cum so soon. I pulled him away, his mouth kept moving as he moved off me. I almost came knowing he was that into me. I grabbed the condom from my wallet and covered myself. I had Max straddle me and I let him ride. He moved expertly. Each motion had both of us moaning. This time, I could watch passion flow over his face. Each movement had him in pleasure’s grip as well. I pulled him forward, so he had to brace his body with his arms. I liked the bunching and cording of his muscles as he supported his fast undulations. I reached forward and took his nipple in my mouth as I gripped his hips. I didn’t try to slow him, he had set too good a pace, but I wanted a connection to him, other than cock to ass. I suckled his nipple, biting then laving the tight nub. He cried out harshly to my ministrations. I liked feeling his smooth, warm skin below my mouth and hands. I felt him thicken where he lay against my hairy belly. I was shocked, but it felt like he was going to shoot. I felt him clamp me and cry out as the first spurt hit my neck. Each shot got shorter and shorter on my body, but it was hot and thick. I felt him clamp me with each rhythmic blast. His orgasmic waves milked me, took me by surprise as I tripped over the edge with him. I gripped his hips and ground hard into him. I must have hit it just right, but Max clamped on me and came again. His cries were almost painful as he shot another healthy load across my belly. It was almost as hot as fire. He collapsed on top of me, cum squelching between us, running down my sides. I wrapped my arms around him, loving–no liking–the connection.

Max lay with his head on my chest, breathing slowly. His arms lay loosely on either side of me. I was still lodged inside him. I had never stayed in place before. I liked it. The tenderness and possessiveness I was feeling were new to me. But I genuinely liked Max. We were perfect in bed together. He was so open about what he was feeling. Normally I would be out the door, but instead I was humbled that he would choose to be so open with me. I needed this and like the worthless bastard I am, I took as much as I could get. I rolled us over and looked in his eyes. I asked if he was up for another go. He laughed at the innuendo and nodded. I changed a used condom for a fresh one and joined up with him again. Normally I don’t face whom I’m sleeping with. But I had enjoyed watching him too much not to. I rubbed my hairy body over his as I glided in and out of him. Our height difference put us at the right level to kiss, but I held back. This was new territory, but I couldn’t cross that line.

I know Max wanted me to kiss him, he angled up a few times, but each time, I turned my head so his kiss hit my neck. After a couple of tries, he got the hint and just nuzzled my neck and the hollow of my throat. I felt bad, but not bad enough. I felt him hard and wet between our bellies. As my time came closer, I lowered my head to his shoulder and bit hard as I came. With my final deep plunge, he tripped over the edge and spurted between us.

I felt bad because I couldn’t give him what he wanted. This guilt was new to me. I didn’t like it. But I pushed it aside and grabbed Max and headed for the shower. I washed us both up; he was limp like a wet noodle. I felt pride that I had brought him to this pleasure. I pushed him against the wall and knelt in front of him. I took him in my mouth. I moved over him. I loved his flavor. I loved the steely strength as it pushed past my lips. I loved knowing I was bringing him pleasure. I kept up my motions, bringing Max to the brink and then gently tripping him over the edge, sucking and nibbling to prolong the experience. When he was drained, he slid down the shower wall to face me. He tried to smile, but he was too sleepy, too sated. I chuckled and turned off the water and dried us both. I weigh about two-forty and it is all muscle. I easily picked Max up and carried him to bed. I covered him up and smiled at him as he nestled into the sheets, drifting slowly to sleep. Before I could catch myself, I leaned down and kissed his forehead. The tender gesture caused him to grin. That alone made the discomfort worth it. I slipped on my clothes and left. On the drive home, I kept reliving that simple kiss and the following grin. I felt myself smile as I crawled into my own bed and fell asleep.

The next four days were hell. The arsonist was stepping up his attacks. We were called out to three or four a night. We all work ten-hour days, supposedly four on and three off. But with the latest crisis, we have been working six days a week. We were all a little punch drunk and looking forward to getting off when we got the call. We had a duplex that had exploded due to some paint cans and gasoline kept in the garage. We headed over to help with clean up. Then we got word that someone was in the farthest bedroom. Bill and I ran in and got to the room. There was a three-year-old sitting in her bed, screaming. I grabbed her and headed out. Bill was right behind me. I made it outside and got her to the paramedics. I turned but there was no Bill. He hadn’t come out. I turned back to find him. We did eventually.

The floor in the stairs had given way. He had fallen into a closet under them. His arm was broken and he had some nasty burns on the same arm. I shut out my feelings until we had him at the hospital. I called his wife myself. I kept it together, not letting guilt or remorse affect me until she got there. They had set his arm and done what they could for the burns, but they couldn’t cast the bone until the skin healed. He asked for me first. I walked into the room, expecting my best friend, my mentor to hate me. He took one look at me.

“Wipe that guilty look off your face. Damn you, it wasn’t your fault. Stop doing this to yourself.”

I couldn’t look at him. I felt so damn guilty. “You should have carried her out. I am so much heavier than you and our combined weight weakened the floor.”

He grabbed my chin and forced me to look in his eyes. “Stop that bullshit now. I will get up and beat you until you understand.” His eyes softened, as did his voice. “It was not your fault. Stop blaming yourself. God knows I don’t.”

I couldn’t face him anymore. I didn’t deserve his forgiveness. “You don’t have to blame me, I blame myself.”

I left the hospital, knowing I shouldn’t. But guilt had me in its grips. I don’t know how long I drove around. I should have been surprised, but I wasn’t when I pulled up in front of Max’s. I knocked on his door. After a few minutes, a very sleepy Max opened it. I didn’t say a word, he just pulled me inside and we sat down on the couch. I told him everything, all about Bill, the fire, everything. He didn’t try to tell me it wasn’t my fault. He just listened, holding my hand. I know I cried at some point. All he did was grip my hand tighter.

“Make me forget Max. Just for a little while.”

He nodded and pulled me into the bedroom where he stripped me. Then he pulled me to the shower. He ran the water extra hot and scrubbed me. I didn’t even realize that I was still smoky and grimy with soot. But Max cleaned me off. He did all those things that I do when I’m in the shower. He scrubbed under my nails and washed out my ears. Like beach sand, soot and smoke get everywhere. He cleaned me off and pulled me out of the shower. I was there, but my mind was detached somewhere else. It was like I was observing the action that I was a part of. He dried me off with a big fluffy towel. He then pulled me into the bedroom and had me lie on the bed. He covered me up and scooped up my clothes. I started to protest, but he said he would be right back. He took my clothes and threw them in the washer. Then he joined me in bed.

I didn’t know what to do. We had crossed a line somewhere. I let him lead me. He pulled me into his arms and just held me. He occasionally kissed my forehead and ran his fingers through my hair. I wanted to scream that I didn’t deserve such warmth. But I needed that warmth, that compassion. So I stayed quiet and enjoyed what he was doing. I had shut my eyes and I felt him kiss the closed lids. He kissed the tip of my nose and each cheek. I felt him kiss my chin. I knew it was coming and I didn’t want to stop. I wanted this, needed this. I was lost and was hoping to be found. I felt Max lower his lips to mine. It had been so long since I had done this, since Jake. I was twenty-seven, it had been thirteen years. My god, I had missed this incredible connection. I opened my mouth and let him in. My lips rubbed against his as his tongue lightly, playfully stroked mine. I heard myself whimper and felt his resulting groan reverberate through the both of us.

I rolled him over on his back, wedging myself between his legs. I was hard and positioned just right. I held him tighter as I pushed forward. Oh god, it just never ends; this connection. I had eased completely inside and I just stayed, savoring the warmth and rightness of it. This was home. We were still kissing, moving lips over each other. I put my hands in motion, stroking his body. His arms, his legs, his chest and stomach: over and over, building him, stoking his fire. I began to move my hips, pulling out and pushing forward. Oh my, we were building fast. But I held tight control over the rising feelings. The sensations were better than any other I had ever experienced, but I stopped the end, held on to my climax by the fingertips. My eyes had been shut from the moment we kissed, making my other senses take over. The taste of his kiss in my mouth, the smell of sex and warmth in my nose and the passionate moans and groans filled my ears. But my skin was over-sensitized. I felt every square inch of his skin against mine. I felt his hands skimming over my back and his thighs bracing my hips as I moved inside him. I felt our sweating stomachs graze against each other, wedging his stiff cock in the hairy, wet cocoon. I felt his nipples, hardened and beaded, against my chest, raking through my thick chest hair. I felt my own nipples brush his warm chest. His stubble covered cheek brushed mine. I was beyond ready to cum, but I was waiting for Max. He pulled away from my mouth and tried to catch his breath. I didn’t open my eyes because I wanted to stay in the sensual haze. Then I heard his deep voice tell me to let go. I shook my head, not wanting it to be over. He caressed my cheeks and kissed the tip of my nose and told me again to let go. It was too much. I tightened up everywhere, I was going to cum and it was going to be with my whole body. The first wave hit me, causing me to erupt. It almost hurt I came so much. I kept releasing, the spasms lasting for long seconds. I was spent and drooping, collapsed completely on Max. With my final plunge, I felt him grip me and explode between us, coating our torsos with his thick release.

I felt myself drifting to sleep. I knew I was too heavy. For countless minutes I tried to move, willing my sated muscles to lift off Max. But when I finally did move, Max grabbed me and told me to stay. I relaxed and fell asleep, still wedged inside his body and nestled in the cradle of his arms and legs. He had lowered his legs so they wouldn’t cramp, but he let me lie there and sleep, safe and content. I don’t know how long I slept, time really had no meaning to me. But it was still dark. I was lying with my head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. His arms were around me and he was hard between us. Feeling him like that made me stiffen and lengthen inside him. I pulled my head up and looked at him, he was smiling but his eyes were closed. I kissed him. I initiated it, I moved my mouth over his, waiting for him to wake if he was sleeping. He smiled even more and opened up, meeting my tongue. I undulated my hips and he arched his back. God, I loved his ability to move with me. I moved over and over inside him, feeling him build, knowing that we would explode again and soon. It was no time at all before he was gripping me, inside and out, writhing in completion, coating my belly with his essence. It was enough, it was too much, I clamped onto his mouth as I poured into him. The waves calmed, this release was mellow, drawn out and smooth. I slid out of him and turned us to our sides. I realized that we had forgotten something.

“I’ve never forgotten a condom before, Max. I’m sorry.”

He smiled at me as he caressed my face with his hand. “Don’t be. I know you are careful and for me it’s not a possibility. It has been far too long.”

I smiled, a slow, caring smile, hoping he’d see how much this meant to me. “How long?”

Max looked embarrassed, but he met my eyes. “Since John died. He was my first and only. Until you.”

I was humbled. Four years was a long time. I found myself opening up and sharing about Jake. I told him all about the time we spent together and the tragedy that parted us. I watched empathy enter his eyes. He told me that he and John met when they were both fourteen; that they had been inseparable since. He was now thirty-one and he had been alone since that night long ago when he got the news that John’s car careened out of control on a patch of ice and he was dead. I wanted to ask why me? But I was never going to, insecurity wasn’t really something I was familiar with. I was uncomfortable with it. But he saw too much in my eyes.

“It was time Sam. I had been thinking about getting out for a while.” He chuckled and grinned. “You came up and surprised me.”

I grabbed him and kissed him again. I don’t know why I was avoiding kissing. It was so much a part of making love. No it was just sex. My detachment was crumbling. But we didn’t have sex again. We just kissed a few times. He twisted around so he spooned against my back. He held me and stroked my chest. Within seconds, I was asleep.

I woke up in bed alone. The sun had risen, but it hadn’t been up for very long. I was lying on my stomach and I reached out for Max, missing his presence. He walked back in the room with a mug and my clothes, folded in a pile in his arms. He had washed and dried them while I slept. He handed me the mug and went and got another for himself. The coffee hit my system and I was up and ready for the day. I think it was more the night I had just spent rather than caffeine, but I wasn’t sure. Max got back in the room and sat by me on the bed. He asked how I was doing. All I could do was smile. I polished off my coffee and took his mug before pulling him down and under me. I started kissing him again, feeling his lips mold to mine as our tongues caressed each other. I felt him stiffen under his robe. I pulled it off him and dove onto his erection. I bobbed on it with my mouth. I made him wet and so hard that when I pulled off it slapped against his belly. I had a hard time pulling it away so I could put it back in my mouth. He was steely and beautiful. I kept moving over him, swirling my tongue until I felt his testicles tighten against him. I moved off him, slid between his legs and impaled him in one swift, hard thrust. I was in him to the hilt. The moment I hit his prostate, he exploded, crying out, screaming with pleasure. I waited for his spasms to stop, willing my own release away until he had calmed. When he was relaxed again, breathing near normal, I started to move. I moved in achingly slow thrusts. Pulling almost out before pushing all the way back. He gripped me, milked me. I was powerless. I was lost in the sensations. I kept my movements steady, pushing into him, building up. I felt Max build too. It had only been a few minutes, but I felt Max clench again. I felt his release against my stomach as I exploded inside him. I usually don’t cry out like that. I usually keep quiet, but I couldn’t this time. It was too good.

I was nuzzling his throat with my nose, feeling sated and warm, enjoying the afterglow. Then I heard Max. “I love you.” I froze. His saying it didn’t bother me. The truth is I needed to hear him say it. I wanted those words and for them to be true. But what scared the life out of me was how close I came to saying them back. I sat up and turned from him. Max curled up around me and told me it was okay. I stood up. Guilt and remorse was flowing through me. I was so confused. Max simply stood and handed me my clothes. His face was a mask. He smiled tightly at me. I finished dressing quickly and was heading for the door. He had put his robe back on and followed me to the door. I wanted to say something, I tried to say something, but nothing came out. Max smiled and kissed my cheek before pushing me out and closing the door.

The next few days were kind of a blur. I felt bad, I felt like a liar and a cheat. I was lying to my friends, my coworkers and Max. I was lost. I didn’t go see Bill in the hospital either. I went to work and fought the fires, but my mind wasn’t in it and that could cause people to be hurt or die. My commander told me to take a few days off. I agreed. While I was home one night I heard a knock at my door. It was Max. I was so happy to see him and also confused. He didn’t know where I lived. I was also enraged. I had set up the walls. I was living my life and he was threatening that foundation. He was pulling me towards something I didn’t know if I was ready for. I got angry and pulled him inside. “What the hell are you doing Max? Are you stalking me?”

His smile faded, his face a mask of confusion and pain. “No, I just…”

I refused to feel guilty about this. “What, looking for answers. I don’t have any.” I knew it was cruel, but I was trying to save myself. “It was just sex. That’s all it was. Sex. A fuck. Get over it.”

I watched a wall come up inside him. I knew I had just reached in and taken his heart and slashed it in two. But I couldn’t stop myself.

“No Sam. I’m not stalking you. Yes, I know it was just sex. I’ve always known it was just a fuck to you. But it turned into something more for me. But you, that’s right, you, kept coming back. Grow up! The next time you come to me, you better get your own life in order.”

Oh God! I felt like I was two inches tall. He turned and walked to my door. Just before he got there he handed me a piece of paper.

“Don’t forget to vote.”

Then he was gone. I looked at the paper. It was a campaign pamphlet. Oh god! All he was doing was doorbelling. I felt even smaller. I knew I was wrong. I knew I was hurting him to keep myself from hurting. But it wasn’t working. I was hurting.

I found myself at the hospital. I was standing in Bill’s room, overlooking him lying in bed. His arm was wrapped in gauze and he was slightly drugged. I just sat by him. I had his left hand wrapped in mine. I was so confused. I was hurting. I knew that what Bill said was the truth. It wasn’t my fault he got hurt. It could have happened to the little girl and me. I knew I was crying. But I was also letting go of the guilt. I was healing. I noticed the wedding ring on his hand. I knew it was a symbol of everlasting love, commitment and fidelity. An idea formed in my mind. It was good that I was there that night with Bill. My life became clear. I understood what my fears were. Fear kept me alone and afraid. I decided to let it go. Bill woke up a few minutes later. I was smiling at him. My first words out of my mouth told him I was gay. He just nodded and smiled back. He told me that he knew. I told him that he was my best friend and I loved him like a brother. He told me he and his wife just found out that number eight was on the way.

“I’m sorry I stayed away.”

“I understood.”

It was all we needed to say. I left his room before dawn. I think we were both feeling better about each other. He was going to heal just fine. He was going to be a father again. He could still do what he loved. I was going to be happy. I choose to be happy. I made a couple of stops early that morning before going and seeing my commander. I told him that I was fine. That I worked out my problems. He was relieved. The arsonist and a flu virus were hitting the force hard. I agreed to work that night. Max would have to wait until tomorrow.

The first call of the night was at the home of a senior citizen. She didn’t make it and was overcome by smoke. Chalk up one more body for the arsonist. We were on our way back to the station when the fourth alarm went out for another fire. I wasn’t paying attention to the address. We were going to an apartment complex and we were to be a ladder hose. I was getting the gear ready, prepping the team. It wasn’t until we pulled up to the complex that I recognized the address: Max! All I could think about was Max. Oh god. He had to be okay. But years of training had me shutting it off. My crew and I did our job. We lay down suppression streams on the roof and tried to knock out the flames. Within a couple of hours the fire was done. I was on ember duty; we raked through the charred remains of furniture and walls, dousing the slightest possible flame up. I heard the inspectors say that it was the arsonist. The fire started on the fourth floor. My blood ran cold. I had been checking the crowd, searching for Max. I hadn’t seen him. That was when they carried out the first body bag. It was followed by two more. I bent in half. Everyone thought I was overcome by heat and smoke. I sat hard on the ground as they pushed oxygen. They had found the bodies on the fourth floor. I was numb, but tears poured off my face. I realized I loved him and now he was gone. I had figured it all out while sitting with Bill. I love him. I never got the opportunity to tell him. My last words were spoken in fear and anger. Oh god!

Then I looked up into the crowd. Max had pulled up to his complex. He ran to the barricade. All I could think was that he was okay. I stood and ran to him. I had thrown off my bunting coat and I didn’t have a shirt on. I ran right to him and wrapped him in my arms and almost squeezed the life out of him. I kept chanting his name. I kept hugging him. Then I pulled back and looked in his eyes. “I love you, Max.” Then I kissed him. It was hot and hungry. I needed to know he was alive and I kept kissing him. Over and over I moved my mouth over his, feeling him alive and warm and in my arms. I pulled back from him and looked in his eyes. I told him where my spare keys were and told him to go to my house. I kissed him again. When I pulled away, I noticed the television cameras. Well, hell. I guess I had no choice now. I was out. I sent Max off to my house and rode back to the station with the crew. Some of them laughed, knowing I was probably in deep shit with the commander. One or two got a little uncomfortable looking, but for the most part, they were simply my coworkers, my family. It didn’t matter. I must have smiled the entire ride back to the station. I was deliriously happy that Max was okay. I also really liked the idea of him being in my home. I liked it a lot.

My smile quickly vanished when we got back to the station. The commander was waiting for me. He was an older man, close to retirement. He called me into his office. Behind his desk was the eleven o’clock news. The lead story was the arsonist and his latest conquests. The second story was Max and I. I sat and watched. When our part came up, I actually smiled. I recognized the look I gave Max. I had seen it many times. Bill gave it to his wife every time he saw her. I had found that same soul-deep connection. I couldn’t stop grinning. The commander simply glared at me. Then his look softened. He told me not to worry. It was only a story. Then he told me to not kiss in front of television cameras again. I went into the locker room and showered, right next to the same guys that I always showered next to. Except I was different, I was open and everyone knew it. But, except for one or two of the guys, no one seemed to care. The married ones really didn’t care. They had someone to go home to. So did I and I couldn’t wait.

I drove home quickly. I couldn’t wait to hold Max. I unlocked my house and found him, sitting on my sofa. He looked lost. I then realized that he lost his home, all his memories and his valuables. I sat by him and pulled him into my arms. It was my turn to comfort him. I pulled him up. His hands were cold; he was in shock. I pulled him into my arms and walked him to the shower. I pulled off our clothes and got into the shower with him. I washed him, lathering his body and I kissed him, often. I pulled him out of the shower and dried him off. I then took him to my bed. It was a large king-size and I held him under the covers. I kissed him from time to time and told him I loved him. Eventually he slept. I was too wired to sleep. I held him through the night. A few hours before dawn I fell asleep too.

I awoke to the sun shining on my face. Max was sitting in the window seat. He was staring out at the backyard. I was now really worried about him. I got up and sat by him. I took his hand in mine. He looked at me and smiled. Maybe things were going to be okay. I brought our hands to my mouth and kissed his knuckles.

“I’m so sorry Max. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I didn’t grow up faster. I’m sorry we couldn’t save your home.”

His smile was sad. “There were some pictures that I won’t be able to replace.”

I swallowed hard. It was never easy, my job. “That’s what is so sad about my job. You see memories reduced to ash. But as long as you remember up here,” I pointed to his head, “then they never really go away.”

He smiled at me, a true, genuine smile. “You’re right.”

I was afraid of his response and I sheepishly asked. “So will you stay with me?”

He nodded. My face must have exploded in a grin. He laughed. I kissed him. I then picked him up and carried him to bed. He was so very responsive. I kissed him harder. I pushed him down on the bed and covered his body with mine. I kissed him over and over. I rubbed my body against his. Then I looked him in the eye and told him again that I loved him. He told me he loved me too. I slid into him. I moved inside him, swiveling my hips, trying to rock him to the core. He kept arching his back into me, rubbing his chest against mine. This is bad, but I had never been inside someone I loved. I came almost instantly, long before Max was satisfied. I grunted and groaned, bucking and writhing like I was dying before I collapsed on top of him. In the few seconds it took me to come back to earth I knew I had screwed up. My first time after telling him I love him and I was selfish in the sack; perfect!

Then I thought about it. We are going to be together forever, at least if I have anything to do with it. I think it was time I took one of the last steps. I slid out of Max and lay by him, on my stomach. I was nervous, but I told Max that I wanted him to make love to me.

“I want you to be inside me. I want you to make love to me.”

His face mirrored his surprise. He cupped my cheek in his palm. “Sam, you don’t have to do this. It’s no big deal that you were a little quick on the draw.”

He saw me blush and he laughed and apologized. “Max, I’ve never done it before.” I looked in his eyes and put all the earnestness I could into it. “Jake and I talked about it, but we never got around to it. I’ve wanted to, but I never trusted anyone I was with. But I completely trust you. I love you. Please.”

His eyes were tearing up but he nodded. He skimmed his hands over my back. I felt goose bumps spring up where his hands had trailed. He moved over me, lying on my back, letting his hairiness caress my back. He stuck his knees between mine and forced my legs apart. I kept thinking he was going to ram it in. He was still rock hard. I tensed. He kissed the back of my neck and told me to relax. He moved down me, skimming his hands and lips over my back. He kept moving lower and lower. When he got down to my ass, he kept massaging the globes, separating and rubbing the cheeks. His hands kept going in circles, moving closer and closer to my crack. Finally, one of his hands brushed through my cleft. I moaned. His fingers started exploring, teasing the hair and moving it, parting it. Then I felt him kiss the left cheek. His mouth kept skimming over my ass and moved to my crack. When he reached the soft flesh, his tongue touched me. I jumped. Electricity flowed from his touch to me. He moved lower and lower getting closer and closer to my hole. I felt him kiss the skin around the hole then touched it with his tongue. I felt myself clench. Then I forced myself to relax. Then he started using his tongue. He moved over me over and over. He lapped me and swirled around me. I felt myself start opening. Then he stabbed me with his tongue. I was rock hard. Oh god! Why did I ever not do this? Jesus! Oh god! He kept moving his tongue in and out of my ring. I begged him not to stop. I know I was whimpering into the pillow. I actually bit it to keep from crying out. Then he pulled his tongue away.

I lifted up in protest. But he pushed me back down. He blew cool air over the wet skin. I shivered. Then he huffed warm air over me. I moaned. Then I felt him place a finger against me. It pushed right in, to the knuckle. It sort of burned, it wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was different. Then he hit something. I felt a tingle hit me. I actually felt my cock release a large drop of pre-cum. Then a second finger joined the first. The tingle got stronger. Then a third finger joined in. He kept moving the three in and out, twisting and turning. I knew he was trying to open me, getting me ready. This was easy. I was no longer nervous and I told him.

“That’s good baby. But I need you begging.” He lowered to my ear and whispered huskily into it. “I need you to be on edge. I want you so hot that you cum just from my fingers.” He nipped my earlobe with his teeth; it sent shivers through my whole body. “Then I’m going to love you and fuck you until you cum, at least twice.”

He kissed my shoulder. Then told me he was hoping to make me cum three times. It was too much, the suggestive talk, the fingers, the anticipation. I shot, over and over right into my sheets. I cried out and moaned. With his fingers there, I felt how I clamped and clutched when I came. Now I knew what I was feeling from the other side. Oh God! I am a fool for never doing this before. Then as I calmed my breathing, feeling Max climb up me, ready, I knew I didn’t want this with anyone else. This is special and I only want to share it with him.

Then I felt him at my opening. He teased me, brushing the dripping head back and forth over my hole. I felt myself push back on him. I wanted him to be inside. But he only brushed me with it, back and forth. I was moaning, whimpering, begging. Then he flipped me over. I looked in his eyes. I thought he was teasing. He wasn’t. His face was taut with the control he was enforcing. His eyes were glassy and he was on edge. I wanted to touch him. I reached to clasp his face and he pulled back. Then he grabbed my hips, pushed my knees forward and pushed into me. I felt my eyes roll up into the back of my head. I felt full, but not bad. I stretched around him, accepting, begging for more. He rocked into me slowly, scooting forward by scant millimeters. It seemed a lifetime of sizzling, electrifying sensations before he was in me completely. I felt his testicles brush my ass; I felt his pubic hair meshing with the hair under my balls. I opened my eyes and looked at him. He had his eyes shut and his jaw clenched, holding back. He stayed in place and I didn’t move, at least not intentionally. But I felt my sphincter relax around him and my body tried to pull him in, seating him, milking him. He groaned loudly before pulling back. Then I breathed out in a gasp when he pushed back into me. He brushed something inside me and I got even harder. I felt my cock brush in the hair on my belly, moving subtly by my heartbeat and then harder with his gentle thrusting. Max pushed on my legs so he could lower to me. I moved them to the side so I could wrap them around him; so I could pull him to me, hold him tighter. His chest brushed mine, I arched my back to him; I wanted our bodies to touch. I now understood so much that I had observed from the other side. I was building, I was growing, oh god! I felt the tingles grow more severe, I felt myself climb to orgasm. I knew it was going to happen. He kept brushing my prostate, each stroke made my testicles rise higher. I felt my stomach clench, pulling my thighs and causing my cock to stiffen. He brushed it once, twice and I exploded. I screamed out in ecstasy. Each single spasm got a bellow from deep inside. I felt cum hit my chest, my stomach and I watched it hit and cling to the hair on Max’s chest. He still kept thrusting; I was spent. Drained. Then he hit my trigger again.

My cock refused to go down. The sensations this time was less intense but longer lasting. I was building again, but slowly. I felt him speed up a little; his thrusting became shorter so he hit my prostate faster and harder. It was going to happen again, I was going to cum. I looked up at him and saw glossy eyes, tight cheeks and a rosy, passionate flush. He was on a mission, focused on our pleasure. He was bucking and arching into me. He was close. I pulled him towards me, fusing our bellies together. I had had the brushing of my hairy belly caress my cock, now I had it wedged between two, sweaty bellies, grinding the head and stroking my shaft in sweaty, lubricated motions. I was now building by two means. It was too much. Ten, eleven thrusts later and I was shooting again. I watched, this time it was less solid, more fluidic, spraying farther onto my face and shoulders. I know I clamped him, pulling him, milking him. He started getting jerky in his thrusts. I felt Max tighten. He pulled out partially so the tip of his cock was against my prostate; he nudged up over and over, pushing the flared tip against that bead of nerve endings. I started crying out, whimpering. I had never known such pleasure, such rare bliss. Then he cried out over me. I saw the cords on his neck stand out. He called out my name and kept chanting it with each pulse of his release. Inside me, I felt each spurt hit against my prostate, each twitch of his cock’s release flexed my ring and chaffed my channel. He did it, I don’t know how, but I came again, just a couple of minutes after the last time. I cried out my love for Max. I was so spent, so tired and so very, very sated.

Max collapsed on top of me. I was so gone I couldn’t even wrap my arms around him. I thought we were going to need an oxygen tank just to catch our breath. Each beat of my heart had my cock twitch in aftershocks. Each of my twitches caused Max to groan. I felt my heart slow. I could no longer feel his pound against mine. I still couldn’t move my arms but I could nuzzle his neck and cheek with my nose. He moved his nose and nuzzled me. It wasn’t much, but it worked, we were connecting and touching. Slowly, very slowly, we started to kiss, to search and meet with lips and tongue. We were coated in my essence, our sweat. When we could move again, about twenty minutes after, I took him to the bathroom. We crawled into the tub and all we did was soak in the warm, sudsy water. I traced each muscle and curve with a soapy sponge. He returned the favor. It wasn’t sexual so much as sensual.

After the water revived us, we drained the tub and dried each other off. We kept grinning at each other. Max kept asking if I was okay. I couldn’t stop laughing. I told him I almost didn’t make it; it was too good. We walked back into my room. Max sat down and scooted himself onto the bed. He sat cross-legged and I was heading over to him. But I tripped on my pants, and then I remembered. I knelt down and got the surprise out of the pocket.

I sat down and faced Max, sitting just like him so our knees met. I took the box. The morning I left Bill at the hospital, after seeing that symbol of love, I wanted the same for us. Legally we couldn’t bind ourselves, but this moment was perfect. I opened the box in front of him. Inside were two gold bands, thick and shiny. Max looked down at them in surprise. I took out the one that would fit me and placed it in his hand. Then I took the one that was for him and took his left hand. I looked straight in his eyes. I put all the solemnity and love I could into my eyes, let down all the walls so he could see the truth in what I was about to do. As I pushed the ring onto his finger, I told him:

“With this ring, I thee wed. With my body I thee worship and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.” I had to swallow, my throat thick with tears. “I take thee in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer. Forsaking all others until death us do part.”

My voice cracked towards the end. I had stood up for my brother and a few friends when they spoke their vows. I had always found them so very perfect. I never thought I would get to say them, but I did. Now I waited for Max to return them. I looked in his eyes and let his hand go. It was now his call. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until he took my hand and I finally exhaled. He pushed the ring on my finger. His voice was hoarse as he spoke to me. But my heart filled with each word. I didn’t realize that a tear or two had leaked out until he wiped them away. We started kissing, which led to making love; me in him, him in me, over and over and day after day, year after year. Our bond grew stronger and stronger as did our love.

Two years later, at the bar, we celebrated the commander’s retirement and Bill’s promotion to his spot. Bill’s wife was there, round and pregnant, happy to be expecting number nine; both of them grinning ear to ear, always touching. I sat on a barstool, with Max standing in front of me. My arms wrapped around him. I couldn’t stop touching him or him me and when he had to go to the bar or the kitchen, I still knew where he was, even without turning my head. And when he returned, there was always a gentle kiss; a light touch, even just my hand on his shoulder or his hand on my leg was enough. But each touch cemented us. Somehow we found that contentment that only those blessed with a true and abiding love find.