Embrace the Fire

by Felice Stevens

  Brandon’s hard cock proved too enticing, and Tash encircled its length with his hand and began to stroke. Brandon arched into his touch and bit out between gritted teeth, “Now, goddamn it.”

  Laughing softly, Tash ripped open the condom packet, and after rolling it on, he slicked himself with the lube. “Patience, sweetheart, and brace yourself.”

  Brandon said nothing but grabbed the high-backed chair and spread himself wider for Tash.

  “Oh God, that’s hot,” groaned Tash, smoothing his hands over the mounds of Brandon’s ass, trailing his fingers in the crease. He sank a finger inside Brandon’s hole and heard a sigh escape Brandon’s lips. “You like that, huh?” A second finger joined the first.

  The rich, sweet scent of the ice cream, along with the noises Brandon made underneath him, excited Tash to a fever pitch. Unable to wait any longer, Tash planted one foot on the ground and a knee on the chair seat for leverage; then he pushed inside Brandon, loving the way he sank inside as if drawn in deep by an invisible force. He wrapped one arm around Brandon’s chest, and as he pumped inside Brandon’s body, he fisted Brandon’s cock with his slick hand.

  “Come for me, sweetheart.” Tash planted a wet, messy kiss at the corner of Brandon’s mouth as he plunged inside him. He continued to stroke Brandon until Brandon shuddered and shot into his hand. Muscles tightened around Tash’s cock, still deeply buried within Brandon, and he sensed that familiar rush of blood to his head and groin. Before he could gather his thoughts to think straight, Tash’s orgasm hit him; the force of it was so strong the fire rose to a golden haze and the walls of his bedroom wavered in front of him.

  Heedless of the mess on his chair, he slumped on top of Brandon for a moment, their harsh breathing the only sound in the room. At this moment, no words were needed; the press of their heated bodies was enough. Tash’s lips were buried in Brandon’s hair, and his arm remained locked around Brandon’s chest. Tremors rippled underneath Brandon’s skin.

  Several minutes passed before Tash could move. “Let’s get cleaned up and go eat.” He stood, pulling Brandon up with him.

  Brandon’s heavy-lidded gaze fixed on the bed. “Mmm. I think we should start a new tradition. Dinner in bed.” He kissed Tash’s neck.

  Tash shook his head and laughed. “You’d want every meal in bed.” He kissed Brandon back. “Give me a minute to clean up here.” After retrieving a towel from the bathroom, along with a damp washcloth, he wiped the two of them up as well as the chair.

  “Why don’t you get into bed, and I’ll bring up the pizza and wine.”

  Brandon slid under the covers and lay propped up on one elbow. “Yeah. I think the ice cream already served its purpose. Hurry, ’cause I’m hungry.”

  “What else is new?” Tash shot back but left the bedroom to race down the stairs. He was no dope. There was nothing better than a naked and happy Brandon in his bed. When he got to the kitchen, he stopped short and burst out laughing. On the tabletop were Cleo and Caesar, their heads in the pizza box. When they heard his steps, they sat up abruptly and scrambled off the table, racing to points unknown.

  With a shake of his head, Tash reached for the menus by the phone and headed upstairs. Looked like they’d have to get dressed for the deliveryman.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  At three forty-five the next afternoon, Brandon sat in his deserted classroom, waiting for Dwayne and Wilson to show up. The boys were usually on time, so when he checked his watch and saw they were fifteen minutes late, he became somewhat concerned.

  He opened the door and stuck his head outside to see if they were coming. Students still walked through the halls, either on their way to other after-school programs or finishing up late classes. It was hard to keep track of everyone with so many children jammed into these aging buildings.

  Brandon left the room, closed the door behind him, and walked around the corner. A tall eighth grader, whom Brandon knew to be a troublemaker, had Dwayne crowded up against the wall of lockers. Another heavyset kid had a beefy arm draped across Wilson’s shoulders, effectively preventing him from moving.

  “My brother told me you little faggots love kissing the teacher’s ass in class, huh?” Brandon watched as the tall boy pushed his face into Dwayne’s. “And then you spending all that time with Mr. Gilbert. What you think that’s gonna get you? He don’t give a shit about you. He’s just another white-boy do-gooder. And when he leaves, you’ll still be stuck here with the rest of us.”

  Dwayne pushed up his glasses. “Well, I don’t think so. Mr. Gilbert’s really nice.”

  Brandon’s heart swelled at the thought of the two kids standing up for him.

  “And,” Dwayne continued, “just ’cause you don’t wanna go to college doesn’t mean none of us do. Leave us alone.”

  “You’re a fucking little loser like your little friend here. All you two do is read. You suck at gym, and you run like pussies.”

  Enough was enough. “What’s going on, guys?” Brandon sauntered over to the group, and the two older boys sprang away from the younger ones. “Is there a problem?”

  “Nah, Mr. Gilbert, uh, we were just talking.” Wilson spoke fast, but Brandon caught the silent communication between him and Dwayne.

  “Looked to me like more than talking was going on.” He directed his gaze at the two older boys. “Are you supposed to be here after school?”

  When the boys hesitated, Brandon snapped. “From what I know, you both could benefit from some extra study time, but if you don’t belong here, I suggest you leave now.” He turned to Dwayne and Wilson. “Let’s go to my classroom.”

  He let the boys pass in front of him, and then when he saw that the two older ones remained where they stood, he glared at them, summoning up all his anger. “Didn’t I say to leave?”

  Mumbling under their breaths, they picked up their backpacks from where they’d left them strewn on the floor and hurried down the hallway. Brandon made sure they disappeared from sight before turning back to the two students. “Ready, guys?”

  They stood before him, both of their faces a mirror of disbelief. “Wow, Mr. Gilbert, you really told them. They’re always calling us names, and their brother also teases us.” Wilson’s eyes reflected admiration as well.

  They reached the classroom, and when they’d settled into their seats, Brandon wanted a bit more information.

  “Are you two being bullied by only them, or are there others as well?”

  Again they shot each other looks.

  “Come on, guys”—Brandon came from around the desk to sit in a chair across from them—“I can’t help you if you won’t tell me the whole story. I know you’ve had problems.” He hoped they trusted him enough by now to open up and tell him everything. “I’m glad you’re going to be coming regularly to the after-school center. But I’d like more information on what’s happening in school. Are they the only ones bullying you, or are there others who give you trouble?”

  “They’re the worst ones.” Wilson spoke to the floor. “They’re always calling us names like ‘wimp’ and ‘faggot’ to our faces.”

  “Yeah,” said Dwayne. “And other stuff.”

  “So why didn’t you boys say anything to me or anyone else?” Brandon kept his tone gentle. He knew about peer pressure. It hadn’t been that long since he’d been in a classroom as a student, and he remembered the derisive sneer of students when they found someone to pick on. Back in his small town, the guys had always looked at him as strange for never dating or showing interest in any of the girls they went to school with.

  Each boy shrugged, and Dwayne spoke. “Well, we figured it’s only gonna be like one more year until we can get out maybe and go to a different place for high school, so we didn’t want to make any waves.”

  “I thought they’d leave us alone by now,” said Wilson, his sneakered toe drawing a circle on the floor. “I mean, we never said anything to them. Why do they have to pick on us?”

  An age-old question and one Brandon had n
o answer to. “Let’s not concentrate on them now.” Brandon knew he’d have to report it to the school, and he wanted to talk to their parents as well. “I printed out copies of practice tests from the previous specialized high school standardized tests and made each of you copies.” He handed the packets over to the two boys. “I figured we’d start by going over how the test is set up and study models for each section.”

  He spent the next two hours explaining the different sections of the test and going over the first set of questions. Both boys picked up the format very quickly, and they were working out a geometry question when Brandon caught sight of the time.

  “Oh wow, guys, it’s almost six o’clock.” They’d only planned to be there until five. “Call your parents right away and tell them you’re with me, and I’ll walk you home.” While they made their calls, he packed up his laptop and checked his phone. By the time he was finished, they’d finished their calls.

  “My mom was worried,” said Wilson. “I hope she’s not mad at you, Mr. Gilbert.”

  “It’s okay; this was my fault. She should be mad at me.” Brandon shepherded them out of the room in front of him, and they quickly left the school and stepped out into the chilly autumn night. “How far do you guys live from here?”

  “Only a few blocks.” They began to walk and within fifteen minutes, the dark shapes of the collection of apartment buildings that made up the project where the boys lived loomed up in front of him.

  “This is it; you don’t have to take us up. It’s okay.” Dwayne hefted his backpack on his shoulder, and he and Wilson took off before Brandon had a chance to respond. Walking back toward the train station, Brandon figured the last thing the kids would want was to be seen hanging around with their teacher.

  He texted Tash that he was on his way to the carriage house. Feeling a little guilty he’d been spending so much time away, he’d told Esther he would take her and Louisa out to dinner the next night when he knew Tash would be working late.

  His phone pinged a response.

  Patient with a crisis. Home late. Wait for me for dinner.

  At least he wasn’t late. He decided to stop at the supermarket on the way home and make something nice for dinner. He grinned to himself as he ran down the steps to the subway, hoping to catch the incoming train. It had been hard to sit down today, with how sore his ass was after he and Tash had been up half the night. Tash had proved to be an insatiable lover, and Brandon was happy to reciprocate, kiss for kiss and stroke for stroke.

  The sway of the train made it tempting to close his eyes and sleep, but Brandon knew the danger of that. He fought the pull and finally got off at his stop. It only took half an hour to pick out a roast for dinner and the ingredients for mashed potatoes that he knew Tash would love. With a start, he realized how domesticated this all was and how much he enjoyed it.

  The night air was redolent with the woodsy scent of fireplaces from the brownstones, and the leaves still had a nice crunch as he walked home from. It was a beautiful autumn evening. Brandon enjoyed the brief walk to revive him from the overheated supermarket. He passed by their neighbor’s house and admired the colorful collection of gourds on their front stoop, and thought about how in the spring, he’d love Tash to get flower boxes for the front of the carriage house.

  Then he remembered he might not be here in the spring if he was in jail.

  Shaking off the negative thoughts, he entered the house and greeted the two cats. “Hey, guys. Miss me?” They answered him with head butts and loud staccato noises, twining in between his legs. Brandon loved the cats; his mother hadn’t ever even let him feed the strays outside the house as she thought the cats brought the devil and forbade him to have anything to do with them. Tash was still shocked at how they’d taken to him.

  He prepared the roast and put it in the oven and then boiled the potatoes, setting them aside to cool. The tantalizing aroma of roasting beef and garlic teased the air and Brandon’s stomach growled, but he knew it would be almost two hours before the meat was done. He caramelized some onions to add to the mashed potatoes.

  All this took about an hour. Surprised Tash wasn’t home yet, he checked his phone but saw no message. Brandon decided nothing sounded better than a hot shower, so he turned down the roast and then went upstairs. The bed was still messed up from when he left Tash in it this morning, sleeping with a sweet smile on his face. As Brandon soaped and rinsed himself, he wondered, was Luke right? Did he jump into a relationship with Tash too fast? He stayed under the heated spray, the water hissing over him.

  Dismissing any doubts hiding in the corners of his mind, Brandon knew Luke was wrong. Long ago when he’d thought about relationships, he’d never pictured hooking up with random guys to have sex. He knew it was silly and most likely an improbable thing, but all he’d ever wanted was a home. Someplace safe to live, with a man waiting who was as eager to see Brandon as Brandon was him. There was something about Tash, from the moment Brandon saw him, that exuded trust, peace, and love.

  How could Brandon not have fallen for him? Tash’s gentleness and decency were the cornerstones of his personality. It’s what made him such a wonderful psychiatrist. Just looking at him, a person knew they could unburden themselves to him without being judged.

  What lay underneath the man was for Brandon alone. Tash had proved to be an inventive, passionate lover, spurring Brandon to explore his untapped sexuality. His stomach clenched, remembering Tash’s tongue entering him, licking him, and driving him off the cliff to oblivion. Brandon wanted to do the same for Tash.

  The water had cooled, and he turned it off and pulled a towel around him. He dried himself, his mood pensive as he slipped on a pair of Tash’s sweats and a long-sleeved tee. Brandon’s hoodie still lay on the floor from the night before, and he slipped it on as the house was still a little chilly after his shower. The bed looked too inviting, and a wave of exhaustion rolled over him. He set the alarm for forty-five minutes and slid under the covers.

  The loud beeping woke him from such a deep sleep he didn’t know where he was at first. He rolled over and smelling Tash’s scent on the sheet, that cool rainwater smell he loved, Brandon smiled. A sound from downstairs caught his attention. Tash must’ve come home while he was napping. Slipping out of bed, Brandon decided to sneak up on his lover and surprise him with a kiss. Brandon crept noiselessly to the door and turned the doorknob so it made no sound. To his surprise, he heard two voices, a man’s and a woman’s.

  Valerie must’ve stopped by. Maybe she’ll stay for dinner.

  The socks on his feet not only kept them warm but silenced his footsteps as he headed to the top of the stairs. He was about to descend when he heard his name mentioned. He knew he shouldn’t listen, that it was wrong to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help himself. From the start, Valerie had seemed suspicious of him, and it bothered Brandon. He wanted to be friends with her like he wanted Tash and Luke to return to their easy friendship before Brandon had arrived.

  So instead of doing the right thing, going downstairs and joining the conversation, against his better judgment he stayed at the top of the stairs and listened to her and Tash. He leaned forward to hear.

  “I see Brandon is very comfortable here.” Valerie sounded curious. “Is he living with you already?”

  “No. But I gave him the key so he can come and go. Our schedules are so different—”

  “You gave him a key, yet when I asked you for one, you said no? What happened to you?” Valerie’s incredulous voice rose in the air. “I’m your sister, your family. He’s a stranger; someone you’ve known little more than a month.”

  Brandon felt sick to his stomach. He gripped the railing, his fingernails digging into the wood.

  “Val, stop getting so upset.”

  Tash’s soothing voice relaxed Brandon. He was confident Tash could calm Valerie down to listen to reason.

  “How could I not be upset? Here you sat in virtual mourning for years after Danny died. All it took was a look from a
hot young guy and suddenly everything’s better? You’ve never been reckless before. I don’t understand.”

  “Why do you have to understand?” Tash’s exasperated voice pained Brandon. “It happened. I can’t explain it. From the first, there was something about Brandon I couldn’t resist. He was like an overwhelming force to me. I couldn’t stay away. I didn’t want to, and even now when I’m with him, it only gets better every time I see him.”

  “It sounds like lust to me, not love.”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” said Tash, annoyance creeping into his voice for the first time.

  “I’m being ridiculous?” The disbelief in Valerie’s voice hung in the air. “You’re thirty-nine, almost forty and he’s twenty-five. From what Luke’s said, Brandon had a miserable childhood and has probably never even been with another man. What does he know about love, relationships, any of it? I’m afraid for you.”

  “Afraid for me? Why?”

  Brandon leaned forward to catch her words.

  “I’m afraid he’s experimenting, trying to find his way, and who could blame him? I don’t doubt that he cares about you; you’re a wonderful man. But he sees you as a father figure—someone to look up to for advice and comfort. And you, because you’ve been so hurt and lonely, mistook his attention and spun it into a love story. Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

  That’s not true. Brandon wanted to run down the stairs and confront Valerie, but hung back, holding his breath and waiting to hear what Tash would say.

  “That’s not the way it is between us. We love each other.”

  Brandon cheered inside.

  “I’m sure you think you love him, but you barely know each other. And…” She paused, and Brandon, already sick to his stomach, wondered what else she could say to tear his heart to pieces. “How well does he know himself? He’s a nice guy, of course. I’m not saying he isn’t. But he’s coming off a horrible situation for years and finding his brothers. I’m sure he’s confused and looking for someone to cling to.”