Flashes of Love
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
887
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
887
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Flashes of Love
A/N: So. Just a little idea I had. A bit fluffier than I'm used to. But my sister begged and begged for a happy ending. Anyway, please tell me what you think. Also, I hate the title. Any suggestions?
Note: Dashes indicate dialogue. I did this for absolutely no reason other than I wanted to.
Flashes of Love
Spring, 1996
The dog barked, close at his heels. The boy had never seen this dog before in his life, but that did not change the fact that he was being chased by the largest canine he had ever seen. He turned his head, as prey are wont to do, to take a better look at his pursuer. The slobber flying from his mouth. The loud barks echoing from his jowls. Or hers. He wasn't quite sure. And then he hit something, and he fell on his rear. He knew for a fact that there wasn't another fence for several more yards, nor were there any lawn gnomes—most lawn ornaments were forbidden, at least, the tacky ones were. And it had felt too soft, too squishy to be a decoration. It felt alive, warm. Another dog? Something worse? He was afraid to look up. He could no longer hear the dog barking. Had this new creature scared him off? He looked up with some measure of reluctance. His eyes locked with the other boy's. The new boy offered his hand, and it was accepted.
— Hi! I'm Sean, he said. What's your name?
— I'm. . . Ethan, the boy said as he dusted his pants off.
— Nice to meet you, Ethan. Wanna be friends? he said as he offered his hand again, this time in greeting.
The hand was shaken, their eyes still locked on each others'.
Summer, 2001
— Are you ever going to tell me what you did to that dog? Ethan asked.
— No, Sean replied wearing the same smirk he always used whenever they had this conversation.
— Come on, Ethan almost begged.
— Honestly. . . That was what? Five years ago? We were five.
— You were five; I was six. Remember? I'm older than you.
— Yeah, yeah. So you always remind me. And yet I was the one who scared off that dog.
— It's not my fault, Ethan said, his voice betraying his embarrassment, Dogs just don't like me.
— And they love me, end of story.
At that, Ethan pouted and diverted his head to look out the window at the passing cars. And signs. The surrounding terrain was completely flat, and they would have been able to see for miles were it not for the trees. A sign came into view.
— Welcome to Panama City, he read aloud.
— We're almost there, Sean's mother informed them.
— Yeah, it should be just a few more minutes 'til we're at the condominium, Sean's father added.
Excitement filled both boys' faces as they neared their destination. The city's skyline was intimidating and exhilarating and awe-inspiring in one stroke. The buildings that had loomed in the distance were suddenly right in front of them, beside them, behind them, all around them. They were in foreign territory, a place they had never been. One building in particular captivated their attention: their destination. They had, until then, only seen pictures. But here was the real thing, within their grasp.
Fall, 2004
High School. The culmination of their public education. That portal into adulthood into which they had stared and for which they had longed for all those years. And they were finally here. This was their first step into adulthood. . . And yet Ethan hadn't seen Sean since that morning. Oh, there he was. . . surrounded by what appeared to be jocks and those of a more preppy inclination. Of course he'd make friends with them, everybody liked him. Sean was actually good at making friends, unlike himself. He had managed to speak to one person whose name was not preceded by a 'Ms.' or 'Mr.' so far that day. And that had been Doris. The lunch lady.
— Oh, hey Ethan.
Ethan nearly jumped at the unsuspected greeting.
— Where ya been? I haven't seen you all day.
— Around, Ethan said.
— Oh. . . well, these guys, he motioned at the people he had been with, invited me to this party. Wanna come?
— No thanks, Ethan lied, I've gotta study.
— Really? You must have some mean teachers to give homework on the first day.
— Yeah.
He was unable to look Sean in the eyes as he headed toward the buses.
Winter, 2006
Snow. It was snowing. In Georgia. Neither could believe it. Unfortunately, it had missed Christmas by six days. But still. Snow was snow. They could just barely make out the snowflakes in the darkness, floating, drifting along in the wind.
— C'mon, it's almost midnight, Sean said, tugging at Ethan's hand and leading him back to the living room.
— Alright already, Ethan said, I just wanted to see the snow.
— Yeah, and you did. Now, we watch.
Ethan looked at the television; the peach was just beginning to drop. He sat next to Sean on the couch.
50. . .
Sean suddenly wrestled with him, pinning Ethan beneath his larger frame.
30. . .
— You know, Sean began, It's tradition to kiss someone at midnight on New Year's. . .
20. . .
— Oh really?
10. . .
— Really.
0!
And they kissed. At midnight. On New Year's.
Spring, 2007
Their flesh pressed together as their tongues explored each others' mouths. Their hands roamed all over each other. Their clothes lay in a pile on the floor next to Ethan's bed. Sean's mouth found a spot on Ethan's neck; Ethan moaned in response. Ethan reached into his bedside table and pulled out a box and a jar and handed them to Sean. Sean made use of both items as appropriate and positioned himself for what was next.
It hurt at first, the penetration. The feeling of Sean inside of him. An odd sensation, not entirely unpleasant. There was stretching and adjusting involved on Ethan's part, and quite a bit of waiting on Sean's.
— Okay, Ethan said, You can move.
And so Sean began to move, that movement he had so many times imitated with just his hand. That movement about which he fantasized nearly every night. The tight heat surrounding his flesh. The voluptuous moans issuing forth from Ethan. Everything was going just as he had imagined. His pace quickened as his climax approached. Ethan worked on his own arousal as well, pumping his hand in time with Sean's thrusts.
— Sean, Ethan moaned as he spilled himself onto his stomach.
— I love you, Sean said as he collapsed on top of Ethan.
Summer, 2007
— It. . . it didn't go very well, Sean said as he collapsed onto Ethan's bed.
— I'm sorry, Ethan tried to comfort him, What happened?
— Th-they kicked me out.
Ethan moved closer to Sean and embraced him.
— I'm here for you.
— Do you think I could stay here for a while? he asked between tears.
— Of course. I'm always here for you, Ethan said as he tightened the embrace.
Fall, 2008
— Who was she? Ethan said, Do you even know her name?
— I. . . I was drunk. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to go that far.
— And how far did you 'mean' for it to go? Hmm?
— It's not what you think. . . No one could ever replace you.
— That's what you said last time.
— I know; I'm sorry. Just give me one more chance. . . I don't know what I'd do without you.
Ethan almost wavered in his determination, almost gave in to those pleading eyes. But not again. He would not let himself walk in on his boyfriend in bed with some girl ever again. Sean had had his second chance, and his third, and god knew how many others. But this was the last straw; he would put up with it no longer.
— No, Ethan said, You had your chance. We're through.
Ethan stormed out of their room, not caring that his things were still inside. The echo of the door slamming shut reverberated throughout the hall. A tear almost slipped from his eye as he descended the stairs.
Winter, 2010
— It's. . . been awhile, Sean said.
— Yeah. . .
The awkwardness of the situation was not lost on them. Neither knew exactly what to say, to do, to feel.
— So, Ethan began, I heard you were going out with Sara?
— Oh, that. We broke up months ago.
— I'm sorry to hear that.
Both were standing, in front of the large windows in the front of the building. Ethan shifted on his feet; Sean kept looking at everything that wasn't Ethan.
— How have you been? Sean asked.
— Okay, I guess.
Their eyes made contact, briefly.
— I've. . . missed you, Sean admitted.
— I guess I've missed you, too.
Ethan's lips almost betrayed a smile. Sean made no attempt to hide his.
Spring, 2010
— She had a stroke? Ethan asked.
— Yeah. . . they didn't even see it coming. There was nothing they could do.
Sean was doing his best to not cry.
— When's the funeral?
— They. . . wouldn't tell me.
At that, Sean collapsed onto their bed.
— They still. . .?
— Yeah. They're very adamant that they don't want me there.
— I'm sorry.
— It's not your fault. . .
Ethan sat next to him on the bed, wrapping his arms around him.
— Okay, Ethan said, So maybe you can't go to the funeral. That doesn't mean we can't do something by ourselves.
— Like what? Sean asked, the tears beginning to dry.
— We could hold our own little prayer service or something. . . just the two of us.
— I love you, Sean said, the sadness and despair leaving his face for a moment.
— I love you, too.
Summer, 2012
— For the last time, Ethan, I am not going to tell you what happened to that dog. It's been what? Sixteen years? I'm not sure I even remember.
— Of course you remember. Now why won't you tell me?
— Because.
— That is not a proper response and you know it.
Sean was driving, Ethan sat in the passenger seat. The car inched forward through the city traffic as they neared their destination.
— I don't think I remember that restaurant, Sean said as he pointed at a modern looking building on the corner, Wanna eat there tonight?
— Don't you try and change the subject on me like that. . . although I would like to eat there.
— It's settled then.
— Right.
The car slowed as they approached a particular building.
Fall, 2020
— I am not going to wear a dress, Ethan said as they passed the bridal store.
— I know, I know. I was just sayin'. . .
— And you will never say it again. This is our wedding; this is serious.
— Right. Serious. Can do.
They walked down the street, hand in hand, window shopping. They had a lunch meeting with their wedding planner in thirty minutes.
— Can you believe we're finally getting married? Ethan asked.
— Why'd we wait so long again?
— Because we wanted to be financially stable before we tried to start a family.
— Right.
They walked on at a leisurely pace, their destination firmly in sight.
— By the way, Ethan began, Did your dad ever say if he was coming?
— He called this morning, actually. He'll be here.
— Good. I'm glad y'all are finally speaking to each other again.
— Well, after mom died, he said he reevaluated his life or something.
They arrived at the cafe early and took advantage of their semi-privacy as they waited for the wedding planner.
Winter, 2020
— I can't believe it, Ethan said as he surveyed the hotel room, We're actually married.
— Well stop not believin' and come over here, Sean said, pointing at the bed, We need to consummate our union.
Ethan sauntered over to the bed and wrapped his arms around Sean, taking his mouth in a searing kiss. Ethan lowered them both onto the bed, mouth still attached to Sean. His hands wandered over Sean's body, taking in every single detail, every crevice, every muscle of this—his man. 'Til death do us part. Sean's shirt now lay on the floor beside the bed, where Ethan's followed shortly. Sean let out a tremulous moan as Ethan's mouth clamped around a nipple. Their pants were next to join their shirts on the floor, followed shortly by the rest of their remaining clothing.
Sean reached over to the bedside table, and, sure enough, there was a perfectly fresh bottle of lube. Condoms were not necessary, however.
The preparations were quick and mostly painless; there was a reason they hadn't worn white. Ethan positioned himself at his husband's—he still couldn't get over the 'his husband' part—entrance. He entered slowly, sensually, intent on savoring each and every sensation as if for the first time. For in a sense it was their first time: their first time as a married couple. And it deserved to be enjoyed as much as possible, to be memorable. Ethan quickly established a rhythm, accompanied by Sean's baritone moans of pleasure. Their bodies twisted and writhed against each other, inside each other, in pleasure, ecstasy, unadulterated delight. Passion, in its purest form. The love between lifelong friends finally come to that ultimate fruition. A shudder. A gasp. And it was over. Ethan lay, collapsed, atop his husband—his husband! How he delighted in such possessiveness. They both panted lightly. A smile crept onto Ethan's face as he leaned toward Sean's ear.
— You're not tired yet, are you? 'Cause we're nowhere near finished.
Sean couldn't help but chuckle at that.
Spring, 2022
— I can't believe it, Ethan was practically shouting as he bounced about the room.
— Would you calm down, honey.
— No, I wouldn't. Do you know how long I've waited to have a family? A whole family? Kids? his voice increased in pitch as he spoke.
— Yes, I do.
— But it's finally happening. We're going to have a son.
— Yes, we're going to have a son. But what good will it do you if you're too tired to actually be alert tomorrow? Now get to bed.
A conflicted look passed across Ethan's face as he debated his husband's argument. And, ultimately, he gave in. But he was still excited.
— I love you, Ethan said.
— I love you, too.
And so they lay in bed, both eagerly awaiting the arrival of their adopted son the next day. Their family would be one step closer to being complete. Their lives one step closer to fulfilled.
Note: Dashes indicate dialogue. I did this for absolutely no reason other than I wanted to.
Flashes of Love
Spring, 1996
The dog barked, close at his heels. The boy had never seen this dog before in his life, but that did not change the fact that he was being chased by the largest canine he had ever seen. He turned his head, as prey are wont to do, to take a better look at his pursuer. The slobber flying from his mouth. The loud barks echoing from his jowls. Or hers. He wasn't quite sure. And then he hit something, and he fell on his rear. He knew for a fact that there wasn't another fence for several more yards, nor were there any lawn gnomes—most lawn ornaments were forbidden, at least, the tacky ones were. And it had felt too soft, too squishy to be a decoration. It felt alive, warm. Another dog? Something worse? He was afraid to look up. He could no longer hear the dog barking. Had this new creature scared him off? He looked up with some measure of reluctance. His eyes locked with the other boy's. The new boy offered his hand, and it was accepted.
— Hi! I'm Sean, he said. What's your name?
— I'm. . . Ethan, the boy said as he dusted his pants off.
— Nice to meet you, Ethan. Wanna be friends? he said as he offered his hand again, this time in greeting.
The hand was shaken, their eyes still locked on each others'.
Summer, 2001
— Are you ever going to tell me what you did to that dog? Ethan asked.
— No, Sean replied wearing the same smirk he always used whenever they had this conversation.
— Come on, Ethan almost begged.
— Honestly. . . That was what? Five years ago? We were five.
— You were five; I was six. Remember? I'm older than you.
— Yeah, yeah. So you always remind me. And yet I was the one who scared off that dog.
— It's not my fault, Ethan said, his voice betraying his embarrassment, Dogs just don't like me.
— And they love me, end of story.
At that, Ethan pouted and diverted his head to look out the window at the passing cars. And signs. The surrounding terrain was completely flat, and they would have been able to see for miles were it not for the trees. A sign came into view.
— Welcome to Panama City, he read aloud.
— We're almost there, Sean's mother informed them.
— Yeah, it should be just a few more minutes 'til we're at the condominium, Sean's father added.
Excitement filled both boys' faces as they neared their destination. The city's skyline was intimidating and exhilarating and awe-inspiring in one stroke. The buildings that had loomed in the distance were suddenly right in front of them, beside them, behind them, all around them. They were in foreign territory, a place they had never been. One building in particular captivated their attention: their destination. They had, until then, only seen pictures. But here was the real thing, within their grasp.
Fall, 2004
High School. The culmination of their public education. That portal into adulthood into which they had stared and for which they had longed for all those years. And they were finally here. This was their first step into adulthood. . . And yet Ethan hadn't seen Sean since that morning. Oh, there he was. . . surrounded by what appeared to be jocks and those of a more preppy inclination. Of course he'd make friends with them, everybody liked him. Sean was actually good at making friends, unlike himself. He had managed to speak to one person whose name was not preceded by a 'Ms.' or 'Mr.' so far that day. And that had been Doris. The lunch lady.
— Oh, hey Ethan.
Ethan nearly jumped at the unsuspected greeting.
— Where ya been? I haven't seen you all day.
— Around, Ethan said.
— Oh. . . well, these guys, he motioned at the people he had been with, invited me to this party. Wanna come?
— No thanks, Ethan lied, I've gotta study.
— Really? You must have some mean teachers to give homework on the first day.
— Yeah.
He was unable to look Sean in the eyes as he headed toward the buses.
Winter, 2006
Snow. It was snowing. In Georgia. Neither could believe it. Unfortunately, it had missed Christmas by six days. But still. Snow was snow. They could just barely make out the snowflakes in the darkness, floating, drifting along in the wind.
— C'mon, it's almost midnight, Sean said, tugging at Ethan's hand and leading him back to the living room.
— Alright already, Ethan said, I just wanted to see the snow.
— Yeah, and you did. Now, we watch.
Ethan looked at the television; the peach was just beginning to drop. He sat next to Sean on the couch.
50. . .
Sean suddenly wrestled with him, pinning Ethan beneath his larger frame.
30. . .
— You know, Sean began, It's tradition to kiss someone at midnight on New Year's. . .
20. . .
— Oh really?
10. . .
— Really.
0!
And they kissed. At midnight. On New Year's.
Spring, 2007
Their flesh pressed together as their tongues explored each others' mouths. Their hands roamed all over each other. Their clothes lay in a pile on the floor next to Ethan's bed. Sean's mouth found a spot on Ethan's neck; Ethan moaned in response. Ethan reached into his bedside table and pulled out a box and a jar and handed them to Sean. Sean made use of both items as appropriate and positioned himself for what was next.
It hurt at first, the penetration. The feeling of Sean inside of him. An odd sensation, not entirely unpleasant. There was stretching and adjusting involved on Ethan's part, and quite a bit of waiting on Sean's.
— Okay, Ethan said, You can move.
And so Sean began to move, that movement he had so many times imitated with just his hand. That movement about which he fantasized nearly every night. The tight heat surrounding his flesh. The voluptuous moans issuing forth from Ethan. Everything was going just as he had imagined. His pace quickened as his climax approached. Ethan worked on his own arousal as well, pumping his hand in time with Sean's thrusts.
— Sean, Ethan moaned as he spilled himself onto his stomach.
— I love you, Sean said as he collapsed on top of Ethan.
Summer, 2007
— It. . . it didn't go very well, Sean said as he collapsed onto Ethan's bed.
— I'm sorry, Ethan tried to comfort him, What happened?
— Th-they kicked me out.
Ethan moved closer to Sean and embraced him.
— I'm here for you.
— Do you think I could stay here for a while? he asked between tears.
— Of course. I'm always here for you, Ethan said as he tightened the embrace.
Fall, 2008
— Who was she? Ethan said, Do you even know her name?
— I. . . I was drunk. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to go that far.
— And how far did you 'mean' for it to go? Hmm?
— It's not what you think. . . No one could ever replace you.
— That's what you said last time.
— I know; I'm sorry. Just give me one more chance. . . I don't know what I'd do without you.
Ethan almost wavered in his determination, almost gave in to those pleading eyes. But not again. He would not let himself walk in on his boyfriend in bed with some girl ever again. Sean had had his second chance, and his third, and god knew how many others. But this was the last straw; he would put up with it no longer.
— No, Ethan said, You had your chance. We're through.
Ethan stormed out of their room, not caring that his things were still inside. The echo of the door slamming shut reverberated throughout the hall. A tear almost slipped from his eye as he descended the stairs.
Winter, 2010
— It's. . . been awhile, Sean said.
— Yeah. . .
The awkwardness of the situation was not lost on them. Neither knew exactly what to say, to do, to feel.
— So, Ethan began, I heard you were going out with Sara?
— Oh, that. We broke up months ago.
— I'm sorry to hear that.
Both were standing, in front of the large windows in the front of the building. Ethan shifted on his feet; Sean kept looking at everything that wasn't Ethan.
— How have you been? Sean asked.
— Okay, I guess.
Their eyes made contact, briefly.
— I've. . . missed you, Sean admitted.
— I guess I've missed you, too.
Ethan's lips almost betrayed a smile. Sean made no attempt to hide his.
Spring, 2010
— She had a stroke? Ethan asked.
— Yeah. . . they didn't even see it coming. There was nothing they could do.
Sean was doing his best to not cry.
— When's the funeral?
— They. . . wouldn't tell me.
At that, Sean collapsed onto their bed.
— They still. . .?
— Yeah. They're very adamant that they don't want me there.
— I'm sorry.
— It's not your fault. . .
Ethan sat next to him on the bed, wrapping his arms around him.
— Okay, Ethan said, So maybe you can't go to the funeral. That doesn't mean we can't do something by ourselves.
— Like what? Sean asked, the tears beginning to dry.
— We could hold our own little prayer service or something. . . just the two of us.
— I love you, Sean said, the sadness and despair leaving his face for a moment.
— I love you, too.
Summer, 2012
— For the last time, Ethan, I am not going to tell you what happened to that dog. It's been what? Sixteen years? I'm not sure I even remember.
— Of course you remember. Now why won't you tell me?
— Because.
— That is not a proper response and you know it.
Sean was driving, Ethan sat in the passenger seat. The car inched forward through the city traffic as they neared their destination.
— I don't think I remember that restaurant, Sean said as he pointed at a modern looking building on the corner, Wanna eat there tonight?
— Don't you try and change the subject on me like that. . . although I would like to eat there.
— It's settled then.
— Right.
The car slowed as they approached a particular building.
Fall, 2020
— I am not going to wear a dress, Ethan said as they passed the bridal store.
— I know, I know. I was just sayin'. . .
— And you will never say it again. This is our wedding; this is serious.
— Right. Serious. Can do.
They walked down the street, hand in hand, window shopping. They had a lunch meeting with their wedding planner in thirty minutes.
— Can you believe we're finally getting married? Ethan asked.
— Why'd we wait so long again?
— Because we wanted to be financially stable before we tried to start a family.
— Right.
They walked on at a leisurely pace, their destination firmly in sight.
— By the way, Ethan began, Did your dad ever say if he was coming?
— He called this morning, actually. He'll be here.
— Good. I'm glad y'all are finally speaking to each other again.
— Well, after mom died, he said he reevaluated his life or something.
They arrived at the cafe early and took advantage of their semi-privacy as they waited for the wedding planner.
Winter, 2020
— I can't believe it, Ethan said as he surveyed the hotel room, We're actually married.
— Well stop not believin' and come over here, Sean said, pointing at the bed, We need to consummate our union.
Ethan sauntered over to the bed and wrapped his arms around Sean, taking his mouth in a searing kiss. Ethan lowered them both onto the bed, mouth still attached to Sean. His hands wandered over Sean's body, taking in every single detail, every crevice, every muscle of this—his man. 'Til death do us part. Sean's shirt now lay on the floor beside the bed, where Ethan's followed shortly. Sean let out a tremulous moan as Ethan's mouth clamped around a nipple. Their pants were next to join their shirts on the floor, followed shortly by the rest of their remaining clothing.
Sean reached over to the bedside table, and, sure enough, there was a perfectly fresh bottle of lube. Condoms were not necessary, however.
The preparations were quick and mostly painless; there was a reason they hadn't worn white. Ethan positioned himself at his husband's—he still couldn't get over the 'his husband' part—entrance. He entered slowly, sensually, intent on savoring each and every sensation as if for the first time. For in a sense it was their first time: their first time as a married couple. And it deserved to be enjoyed as much as possible, to be memorable. Ethan quickly established a rhythm, accompanied by Sean's baritone moans of pleasure. Their bodies twisted and writhed against each other, inside each other, in pleasure, ecstasy, unadulterated delight. Passion, in its purest form. The love between lifelong friends finally come to that ultimate fruition. A shudder. A gasp. And it was over. Ethan lay, collapsed, atop his husband—his husband! How he delighted in such possessiveness. They both panted lightly. A smile crept onto Ethan's face as he leaned toward Sean's ear.
— You're not tired yet, are you? 'Cause we're nowhere near finished.
Sean couldn't help but chuckle at that.
Spring, 2022
— I can't believe it, Ethan was practically shouting as he bounced about the room.
— Would you calm down, honey.
— No, I wouldn't. Do you know how long I've waited to have a family? A whole family? Kids? his voice increased in pitch as he spoke.
— Yes, I do.
— But it's finally happening. We're going to have a son.
— Yes, we're going to have a son. But what good will it do you if you're too tired to actually be alert tomorrow? Now get to bed.
A conflicted look passed across Ethan's face as he debated his husband's argument. And, ultimately, he gave in. But he was still excited.
— I love you, Ethan said.
— I love you, too.
And so they lay in bed, both eagerly awaiting the arrival of their adopted son the next day. Their family would be one step closer to being complete. Their lives one step closer to fulfilled.