“Oh. Have you already agreed to?”

“No, not yet.”

“Okay, good. Come to the beach with me.”

“H-huh?” Fizz almost dropped his mug. He set it down on the table, before he dropped it for real.

“Um, why?”

“The sun’s out.” Ash’s eyes were fixed on his mug as he ran a finger around the rim, wiping away a

trace of coffee. “It’s Solstice tonight, so there’s loads of stuff happening. They do a parade of all these

paper lanterns down the Steine, then everyone goes to the beach for barbeques, and bonfires. It’s quite

a sight. We could go check it out, or just walk around on our own, whatever you fancy.”

Fizz felt fear grip him. The thought of being outside with other people was simply too terrifying,

never mind in the midst of a parade. He’d never make it out of the front door.

“I can’t, I – I’m sorry, I –”

“It’s okay.” Ash’s hand found his and squeezed gently. The heat of that touch shot flames through

Fizz’s arm. “You can talk to me,” Ash said. “I’m not gonna push you outside if you don’t want to go.

Would you tell me what puts you off going?”

Fizz stared back at him. Ash seemed like he genuinely wanted to know, and he was being so patient.

Those calm words and his touch loosened Fizz’s nerves enough to speak. “I just – I want to go, but I

need to work myself up to it, you know?”

Ash smiled at him. Fizz felt him move his hand, fingers interlacing with his. Fizz couldn’t tear his

eyes away from that smiling, handsome face. “Okay,” Ash said. “No worries. We’ll do it some other

time. We’ve got all the time you want.”

“What a charmer.”

Fizz tried to ignore that voice, even though it felt like the words were a mere breath from his ear.

“Kiss him, then. Before I do it for you.”

A possessive surge take hold of Fizz. He leant forward, his eyes open in surprise. He didn’t know

what he was doing, only that he wanted. Ash leaned in too, tilting his face. When they met, their lips

brushed together, gentle at first. Fizz blinked his eyes, seeing only burnished skin, and dark, black

eyelashes sweep closed. Ash’s hand slid against Fizz’s cheek, cupped the back of his head, guiding

him.

Fizz closed his eyes and let Ash kiss him. His first kiss. And it was so much better than he’d ever

imagined. The warm touch of lips, the faint scratch of Ash’s stubble against his face, like tiny shards

of glass. Fizz could taste the cardamom on Ash’s lips. When he felt the slick wetness of Ash’s tongue

seek entry, he opened his mouth, and pulled him closer. He wanted to lose himself in this, to forget

about everything.

The voice whispered in his ear, “Take him to your room.”

Yes, that was what he wanted. Fizz felt like he watched himself in a dream as he stood, gripped

Ash’s hands, and pulled him from the kitchen.

“What’s wrong?” Ash asked.

“Nothing.” Fizz all but dragged him down the hall, into the stuffy haze of his bedroom. He pulled

Ash against him, having to lean up on his toes to reach. Ash bent to meet his kiss, and Fizz wound his

arms around Ash’s neck, dragging him down with force.

They landed roughly on Fizz’s bed, with Ash grunting in surprise. He pulled away, glancing over

his shoulder at the doorway. “Er, Fizz...you don’t have a door here, you know.”

“No one will see.” Fizz wasn’t sure if he’d said that aloud, the words seemed to come from all

around him. He skimmed his hands over Ash’s arms, marvelling at the feel of hard muscle under soft

skin. Ash still looked pensive, so Fizz raked his nails down Ash’s back, through the thin material of

his t-shirt.

Ash shuddered against him, and Fizz slipped his hands under Ash’s clothes. He ran his hands over

bare skin, up to his shoulders, and pulled Ash lower. Closing his eyes, he sought Ash’s mouth, craving

his taste. Fizz’s heart pounded in his ears. With each breath, he could smell more of Ash, all the spice

and heat that sent his mind spiralling. It felt like a fire was burned inside him. Fizz’s mind was in a

daze, but his body was ravenous. He pressed himself against Ash, half straddling his lap.

Ash broke the kiss. “Fizz, I think we should slow down.”

“No.” Fizz pressed his weight into Ash, trapping him beneath. “Ash, please,” he gasped, grinding

his hips down. His cock was hard, so hard, and the warm body beneath him felt too good. Ash glanced

down, like he was momentarily stunned. His lips were parted, and glistened wet.

“Ash.” Fizz moved again, pressing down harder. The sensations were tearing him apart. Ash moved

his hands, gripping Fizz’s hips. He thrust up as he held Fizz in place, grinding them together. Fizz

heard the moan on his own lips, and the voice in his ear whisper, “Kiss him.”

He held onto Ash and kissed him hungrily, melding their mouths together. Footsteps sounded in the

room. Fizz broke away, panicked, and looked to the door, but no one was there. The air felt humid, and

Ash pulled him down again, seeking his mouth. They kissed hard, their tongues duelling.

“Finlay, stop it.”

“Stop what?” Fizz breathed against Ash’s lips.

“Huh?” Ash said, breathless.

“You...” Fizz pulled back, frowning. “You asked me to stop?”

“Yes, stop.”

“No! Shut up, you fool!”

Fizz stilled.

“Are you okay?” Ash asked.

“This isn’t right,” a gruff voice stated.

A low laugh echoed through the room in reply. “You’re spoiling my fun.”

Fizz clutched his head, an instinctual reaction to keep himself together. This is it, he thought. He’d

actually cracked. What the hell am I doing?

Awareness washed over him, like icy cold water. The heat left his body, and his erection flagged, as

shame and embarrassment set in. Fizz scrambled away from Ash and, in his haste, fell off the bed,

sprawling over the bare floorboards.

Ash reached for him. “Hey, you all right?”

Fizz couldn’t bear Ash’s concern. “I’m fine.” He hurried to right himself, sitting back on the

mattress. The air was filled with the sound of their breathing. “I – I’m sorry,” Fizz said.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Ash reached for his hand, but Fizz jerked away, screwing his eyes shut so he

didn’t have to look at him.

“Please go.”

“What? Why?”

“Please leave me alone.”

“But, Fizz, I –”

“Go, Ash.”

Ash was breathing hard. Fizz could hear it, but he still wouldn’t face Ash. He heard Ash suck in a

breath, then he said, “Fine.” The mattress moved as he stood up.

Fizz kept his eyes closed, even covered them with his hands. He sought refuge in the blackness; he

didn’t want to see anything. He heard Ash walk out of the room then heard two sets of footsteps stomp

away down the hall.

Well, it was official then; he was nuts.

“Shit,” he muttered, feeling his eyes prick with tears. “Shit, shit, sh–”

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” a voice interrupted. “Get a hold of yourself.”

Fizz looked up, his vision bleary from pressing his hands over his eyes. He’d thought the room was

empty, but he was wrong. His gaze settled on a young man, sitting almost directly across from him.

Fizz blinked, and stared. The man wasn’t exactly sitting, he was levitating – or sitting on an invisible

chair, it seemed – with one leg crossed over the other.

Weird. Fizz wondered absently how strong his subconscious must be to create such a detailed

image. The vision was wearing an outfit; Fizz didn’t even know what style it was, only that it looked

like a vintage suit. The last rays of the setting sun from the window tinted everything orange, turning

the man’s clothes a burnt tan colour. His skin was pale, and his body slight. He didn’t look all that old