push

by robert craig

Darkness and dunes. Late and tired. They sit in old beach chairs in front of the fire. Burning leftover wood from summer's visitors. They don't talk. They just stare at the flames. Every so often a breeze kicks up and the fire roars and dances and cracks.

Bruce watches Roy in the glow. Shadows stutter, light flickers. His mind races. He's never felt this full before. Full of feelings he didn't know he could have. This much.

Roy stares into the shape shifting flames over a brilliant bed of coals. Burning wood, sinking blaze. He gets up and tosses on the last remaining logs. Sparks burst. Flames fly. 

Then he walks to the other side and in the faint light, with his back to the fire, he unzips his jeans, pulls out his dick and stands there waiting. After a minute, Bruce joins him and starts to piss into the night. Bruce points his dick out and up. His stream disappearing in the dark. 

Roy waits; he can't go yet. Then he starts. Some spray then a heavy stream. Bruce stands next to him and as Roy finishes, Bruce slips his hand down the back of Roy's jeans, sliding his fingers down his ass.

Roy is done pissing and shakes it off, puts his dick back into his jeans and adjusts his balls. Bruce squeezes Roy's ass playfully. And Roy reaches his arm around Bruce, pulls him in. Holds him tight. He inhales the smell of wood and smoke. Fire and flame.

Above them, stars shoot across the milky way.