Feb 14, 2015

MM Romance Holiday Flash fic - Valentine's Day blog hop! 2015

Whoo hoo, I'm participating in the M/M Romance Holiday Flash fiction blog hop. This time, the theme is Valentine's Day! And guess what? A special present, I'll be giving away a copy of (most) any backlist title to one lucky commenter.

Check this website for available titles to choose from.

Want to win a book? Give this short 1,000 word piece a look and then comment (don't forget to include your email address) for your chance to win! Giveaway will remain open until next week, Saturday Feb 21st.

And if you haven't yet, read my winter-themed flash fic piece here. This short story focuses on the same characters, Fithel and Sawyer, also from my current fantasy work in progress titled "Malrith's Shield". Enjoy!

Warnings: Possible NSFW, and a dancing naked elf.

 The bed rustled and dipped beside him. Fithel turned to spot Sawyer next to him, eyes clenched shut, breath coming out in gasps, and his forehead covered in sweat. He twitched and groaned and shifted his head as his dream consumed him. Fithel had seen this all too often. These nightmares had plagued Sawyer for years.
He gently brushed his fingers across Sawyer’s moist cheek. Sawyer jerked away from Fithel’s touch, pinching his eyes even tighter.

“Sawyer,” Fithel whispered. He reached under the blanket, finding Sawyer’s hand gripped to the underside. Tender coaxing usually brought him back from his nightmares, but Sawyer opened his lips and tightened his fingers around the blanket instead. “It’s only a dream.”

“N-no...” Sawyer moaned. He jerked his elbow, almost catching Fithel in the chest. “Stop!” 


“No! Please don’t—“

“Wake up!”

At once, Sawyer’s eyes popped open. Focused on the ceiling above. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his brow. Fithel grasped his hand as he let go of the blanket, finding his skin unusually cold.

“You’re okay,” he murmured in Sawyer’s ear. “Another nightmare, huh?”

Sawyer nodded. He glanced out of the corner of his eye; a teardrop trickled down his cheek, mending with the sweat already there. “I-I’m okay, now.”

“Sure? They’ve been pretty bad, lately. Want to talk about it?”

After letting out a sighed “No”, Sawyer rolled on his side and snuggled close to Fithel’s chest.

Being close made Fithel’s heart swell. He was always there when Sawyer had a nightmare. Always embraced him, soothed his fears, and though Sawyer never liked to talk about his dreams, Fithel made the promise that someday, they’d leave Sawyer alone. It would happen—Sawyer would awaken happy and full of energy, instead of in a panic. Someday.

For now, what always worked was Fithel turning Sawyer’s attention to something else. “Do you remember what day it is?” He brushed his hand lightly upon Sawyer’s arm.

“Hmm, the festival?” 

“Uh huh. The Saint Valentine’s festival.” Fithel chuckled. The annual occasion was one of the king’s favorite events: a masquerade and a buffet with all the nobles in Anscien, as well as the bestowing of some of the country’s most eligible bachelors to unmarried, capable women. “Who do you think is in turn to marry this year?” 

Sawyer tensed. “Not me, I’ll tell you.”

Fithel let out another laugh. “That would be something, wouldn’t it? You are of age, don’t forget. There’s nothing stopping our king from arranging your engagement to some beautiful young lady.”

“You wouldn’t let him, though, would you?” Sawyer jerked his head up, eyes wide with concern.

“Of course I wouldn’t.” Fithel cupped his chin, and eased closer to close the gap between them, nibbling at his lips playfully. “Unless...” 

Sawyer’s throat bobbed. “Unless?”

“She wouldn’t mind sharing,” Fithel whispered against Sawyer’s skin.

Sawyer sat straight up with flushed cheeks, the blanket rolling down his naked chest. “You wouldn’t! After all this time, you’d just let everything go at an instant like that. I can’t believe yo—“

Clasping Sawyer’s hand to interrupt his bickering, Fithel chuckled until his chest hurt. “Calm down, love, I’m only kidding.” Sawyer furrowed his brows. “You should know me better by now. I’d never let you go so easily.”

Sawyer’s expression softened. He slowly laid beside Fithel. “It’s nothing to joke about. It could happen. Any day now, the king will call my name and I’ll be arranged to marr—“

“If it does,” Fithel tightened his grip on Sawyer’s hand. Needing the closeness, he forced Sawyer over on his back and straddled his hips. “I promise to fight the decision.”

He leaned close and pressed his lips to Sawyer’s. A hot moan wafted across Fithel’s cheeks; Sawyer had closed his eyes. Wrapped his arms around Fithel, fingers digging into the small of his back. Fithel loved the feel of his partner, and the way he succumbed—helpless and weak against his jokes, and his ministrations. Sawyer’s length twitched against his, another wanton groan escaped from deep in his throat.

“Hold that thought,” Fithel breathed. “What I really want to do tonight is...” He pounced to his feet, balancing himself on the hard bed above Sawyer. “Dance!”

Sawyer’s eyes drew wide. Fithel jumped to the floor and hummed a slow melody as he held his arms out in front of him, imagining holding Sawyer in his arms. There he danced. The grand room would be dark with dim lanterns sparkling against the buffered marble floor. He’d danced with Sawyer every year during the masquerade; it was what he most looked forward to.

A familiar chuckle interrupted his fun. “Hey,” Sawyer said. “Behind you.”

“What?” Fithel opened his eyes to Sawyer sat on the edge of the bed with a grin, the blanket gathered around his waist. 

He turned around to find the bright morning light shining through the open window on his exposed backside. A grey-haired maid stood below in her stained gown, staring up at him with curiosity, and maybe a little wariness. Fithel put on the biggest smile he could and waved at her. “Hello!” 

The maid lowered her head, he thought he saw her cheeks turn beet red, and continued her trek across the garden.

“You gotta’ love me,” Fithel said excitedly as he turned back toward the bed.

Sawyer shook his head. “Flashing everyone in the kingdom, huh? I should be a little jealous.”

“Are you?” Fithel asked in a husky drawl. “Should I ask someone else to dance tonight, then?”

Sawyer narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“Hmm, I could.” Fithel knelt on the bed, leaning into Sawyer. “Or I could dance with two. It could be fun, couldn’t it? Oh, I know. How about the guard Et’os? He’s quite the dandy, isn’t he? Imagine it, Sawyer, you and me and—“

“Don’t think so,” Sawyer murmured. “I’d never share you. If that Et’os or anyone tried anything, I’d have to slash his throat.”

“So you are jealous.” Fithel brushed his lips playfully against Sawyer’s once more. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t have it any other way, but you and me...” He pressed into Sawyer, forcing him down on his back, and crawled between his legs. “And this bed.”


Don't forget to read more flash fic today by these fabulous authors:



http://www. jenawade.com/blog/