Sunday, 25 August 2013

new m/m i just started

I've never quite understood the lure of firemen, but my blog group Hotter than Hades have monthly challenges where we write 500 words on a topic. Last month was Fire and I wrote the below paragraphs. It has inspired me to finish the story, or start it, so to speak.
What do you think?

The crackle and sizzle of the wooden beams above him got his attention moments before it became too smoky to breathe. He clasped the t-shirt he had grabbed from the chair tighter to his nose and continued forward. He had to find them. He knew there were children still in this building.
A scream sounded and then another. They were here, he was sure. Somewhere. He pushed forward, the smoke obscuring his vision and his knees weakening as his whole body shook under the weight of the invisible killer. Carbon dioxide, oh God, he was going to die here.
He reached out a hand and began to crawl, pulling himself desperately along the carpet. Another scream and he looked up, oh please...

Dylan awoke in a cold sweat, shaking and generally feeling violently ill. Being a fire fighter had its perks, but it certainly had its down falls too.
He turned his head, still swallowing the bile that had risen and saw that his partner was still asleep. Good. He hated waking Michael when he didn’t mean to.
Still shivering so hard his teeth chattered, Dylan pulled himself out of bed and made his way to their small ensuite. What he wouldn’t give for a proper bath at the moment. A shower would have to do.
He carefully closed the door, noticing the time was 3:31 am. He needed more sleep if he was going to work this afternoon.
“Freezing...” He muttered to himself as his teeth began to chatter loudly again.
He reached in and flicked the taps on the shower. Hot water poured out and steam began to rise up. He stepped in and closed the door, letting the warmth of the water pour over his skin, warming him inside and out. There was nothing worse than that sort of nightmare. One with children, one where he died.
His Greek best friend at school had always told him that if other people saw you die in a dream, it increased your life by years. It was a pity it didn’t go the other way as well, or he would live forever.
Dylan pressed his head to the tiles and heard the squeak of the shower doors open. He shut his eyes and let Michael fill the space behind him.
Warm, strong hands found his shoulders and massaged there briefly before Michael’s smooth voice floated over him. “Are you okay sweet heart?”
Dylan nodded, tears filling his eyes at the concern in his lover’s voice. He didn’t like to be coddled. He was six foot three, over a hundred kilo’s and a man for goodness sakes, but Michael undid him, every time.
Michael reached up and ran a hand through Dylan’s wet hair and he sighed as the healing began.
“Come back to bed.”
Dylan nodded and pushed himself up once again, knowing that Michael would hold him tight all night tonight. Keeping those nightmares at bay for at least a few more hours.

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