Nothing but Smoke (Fire and Rain)

Dedication

For my grandmothers.

Chapter One

Michael jogged the concrete path that wound around the reservoir in Seattle’s Volunteer Park, looking up now and again for someone to blow him. He’d thought that by this point in the summer, it would have stopped raining. But as a lifelong Seattleite, he should have known better. Wetness coated the pavement and seeped into Michael’s running shoes.

June-uary, the locals called it, though Michael had lived through enough of them not to be annoyed by the bad weather. More frustrating tonight was the lack of attractive men. Usually Volunteer Park was a great place to combine a workout with a casual hook-up, but no one so far had caught Michael’s eye.

A few guys stood between cars at the end of the lot, talking and smoking and eating. Maybe the McDonald’s bag perched in a bush near the group had been left by someone else, or maybe those guys had flung it in the most convenient direction, but Michael made sure to scoff loudly enough they’d hear him when he grabbed the garbage out of the greenery and went to throw it away.

Michael was still rubbing hand sanitizer on his palms when an engine revved near the park entrance and a guy on a motorcycle rolled in. Intrigued, Michael jogged in place as he watched the guy. Hardly anyone rode motorcycles in Seattle, especially during the rainy months. The drawbridges had metal grates that were terrifying to drive on when wet.

Leather Dude parked three spots from the closest car, as if he couldn’t quite commit to staying. When he pulled off his helmet, curly dark hair framed his face. Maybe it was the motorcycle jacket, but he seemed broad. A daddy? Michael didn’t think so. The way the guy hung his head, only peeking at the other guys, gave him away as one of those closeted straights who swung by the park for a quick suck before heading home to their wives or girlfriends.

Michael stretched his hamstrings as he watched the guy store his helmet. Leather Dude reminded Michael of his ex—the lying, asshole, closet case who broke Michael’s heart.

Unfortunately, he also pushed every last one of Michael’s buttons.

The guy was older, but not by much. Thirtyish, with wide shoulders, big hands, and legs like tree trunks under his worn jeans. He’d be perfect for a quickie.

“Hey.” Michael walked over briskly, like he was just passing by on the way to continue his jog. “What’s up?”

Leather Dude’s cheeks were pink. Either from the ride or because he was blushing.
Cute.

“Um, not much.” Leather Dude got off his bike, though he hovered at the side like he might need to make a quick getaway. When he crossed his arms, his jacket creaked, releasing the smell of rawhide and engine grease. “Nice night.”

“Yeah.” Michael forced his breathing slower so he wouldn’t seem winded. “Not too wet.”

Leather Dude answered with a quirk of his lips, like he wanted to smile but couldn’t quite do it. “Yeah. Hope it doesn’t start drizzling by the time I’m ready to head home.” He chuckled, jutting his chin toward his bike.

“Probably safer to ride when it’s dry.”

“Yeah.” Leather Dude dragged his gaze down Michael’s body, lingering at his groin for a second before starting his climb to Michael’s face. He didn’t meet Michael’s eyes again, instead zeroing in on Michael’s lips.

The guy swallowed, Adam’s apple rising before bouncing back to its regular position. Leather Dude’s neck was thick, ropey with muscles that disappeared under his collar.

“I was thinking of walking a lap as a cooldown.” Michael tilted his head to the path. He watched Leather Dude closely, wondering if he’d get the hint.

“Yeah.” The guy cleared his throat. “Yeah, me too.” He crossed a few steps, not smiling, but Michael figured he knew what they’d agreed to.

“Great.” Michael pivoted and started walking. Leather Dude was shorter and broad where Michael was lean.

“Um…” Leather Dude nodded at a wooded part of the trail where a few trees bunched together with enough privacy for a couple guys to get off.

“Looks good.”

Leather Dude unfastened his belt as he walked. He rounded a tree to face the fence that surrounded the park. There were more trees beyond, guarding them from the flickering headlights on nearby roads.

He backed up, pants open and showing a gleaming pouch of tightie-whities.

For some reason, guys like him always wore the most boring underwear.

Michael pulled open the Velcro on his jogging shorts and shoved his hand down to grab his cock. He was hard already. The fact that Leather Dude’s bulge looked more than impressive only got him hotter.

“Oh.” Leather Dude watched Michael’s hand, eyes wide and nervous. He didn’t move to take his pants down or reveal his dick. For a second, he looked so panicked Michael thought he’d back out.

“Here, let me help with that.” Michael stepped so they were only a few inches apart. He stayed there a second, giving Leather Dude a chance to balk. When he didn’t, Michael reached down, hovering his touch just beyond the jut of Leather Dude’s dick.

Leather Dude arched forward, pressing his cock into Michael’s palm.

He was hard. Thick. Made Michael think it had been way too long since his jaw had gotten a stretch.

“God.” Leather Dude covered Michael’s hand with his own, crushing his palm in tight.

He smelled like smoke and pine needles, with a rasp of musk underneath. It wasn’t cologne or even aftershave. The scent was too clean for that. No, the guy just smelled great all on his own. His wife or girlfriend was a lucky woman.

Michael felt his way under Leather Dude’s waistband. Precome smudged his palm, and crinkly hair tickled. Michael leaned in, testing the boundary of how close Leather Dude would let him get.

The guy tensed but didn’t move away. If anything, Leather Dude’s body seemed to light up, easing closer so his slick jacket brushed across the front of Michael’s lightweight fleece.

His chest was solid muscle, heavy and warm and like Michael’s dirtiest wet dreams. Michael put his mouth on the guy’s neck. He didn’t generally kiss his random park hook-ups, and for the most part they didn’t want to kiss him either—but Michael pressed his lips to Leather Dude’s skin, wanting to taste some part of him besides his dick.

Leather Dude froze, hands on Michael’s hips, gripping.

“You okay?” Michael wondered if the guy was on the verge of a breakdown. It didn’t seem like it, though, since the cock in Michael’s hand was still eager.

“No.” Leather Dude jerked his head. There was a split second where his fingers dug into Michael hard enough to bruise.

In a quick move, Leather Dude pulled him closer, so their bodies pressed tight. He sucked on Michael’s shoulder, his neck. He grabbed Michael’s ass, like he was drowning and reaching for something to keep his head above water.

Nicky couldn’t believe he was doing this again.

The gay guy was firm in his arms. Thin but wiry. He tasted so fucking good—a spicy mix of salt and sweat, cologne and male flesh. His short beard was clipped tight to his jaw in a scruff that rubbed Nicky’s lips every time he got close to the guy’s face.

He wouldn’t kiss, though, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Damn.” The guy had given up trying to jack Nicky off and ground their crotches together instead. Nicky’s cock was out, sliding against the nylon material of the guy’s underwear.

The guy worked his briefs off his hips, and Nicky felt the brush of something hot and hard against his cock.

He pushed the guy off.

“What?” The guy blinked at him. He didn’t look angry, just confused.

Nicky had been playing this all wrong. “You know what I want.” Acting a role he’d done more times than he wanted to admit, Nicky pushed down on the guy’s shoulders.

There was a split second where the guy smirked. A headlight cut through the trees, and Nicky saw that he had blue eyes, and they were narrowed. “Give me your jacket.”

“Why?” Nicky leaned against the tree. He felt awkward with his dick sticking out, so he covered it with one hand.

“The ground’s wet.”

The moss-covered dirt was waterlogged, true, but the guy was fucking with him. Unfortunately, Nicky liked it. “You should have brought knee pads.”

The guy rolled his eyes. On another flicker of streetlights, Nicky realized the guy’s hair was blond with a little red in it. Strawberry blond. No wonder he kept it in a buzz cut. If he grew it out and lost the beard, he’d be too pretty.

“I’m not kneeling on the wet ground. So either you give me your jacket, or I’ll—”

“Fine.” Nicky shrugged out of his leather and shoved it at the guy. “Now get down there.”

Strawberry made sure the inside was facing up before folding to his knees.

Slowly, Nicky pulled his hand away.

“Mmm…” Strawberry licked his lips. He gripped Nicky at the root, pulling a stroke up the length of him. “Nice cock.”

“Yeah?” Nicky preened from the flattery. Sure, he’d heard it before. But somehow it meant more coming from Strawberry. The kid looked like he was in his early-to-mid twenties, but he had the attitude of a guy much older. Nicky bet Strawberry didn’t hand out compliments lightly. “You gonna suck it?”

Strawberry smiled up at him, clearly happy about Nicky talking dirty. He didn’t break eye contact as he opened his mouth.

“Mmmmm…” Strawberry closed his eyes, humming as he worked his lips down.

All that warm wetness closed in on him, making Nicky forget about his mom’s illness, or the guys at the station, even the shame of coming to the park in the first place. Nicky wanted to thrust into that space and forget every damn thing in his life.

Strawberry went at Nicky hard before pausing to lick around the cap. He was amazing, pretty as hell with his reddish-blond eyelashes fluttering. And he swallowed Nicky down like he loved it. Nicky thought about stubble under his lips…

No. That part had been an aberration. Nicky didn’t kiss guys. Not even their necks.

Thank God he’d never see this kid again.

“Crap, it just keeps getting bigger.” Strawberry jacked Nicky off with one hand, rubbing his own cock with the other.

Nicky’s orgasm built, spreading through his body until he could feel it in his throat. “Shut up and do it.” He bucked, pushing his cock through Strawberry’s fist.

“Give me a sec to catch up.” Strawberry sat back on his heels. He jerked himself and Nicky in time.

Closing his eyes, Nicky listened to Strawberry’s panted breaths, the whisper of trees and the hum of the distant street. Every inch of his body was alive and throbbing.

None of the guys at the fire station would ever find out, not Father MacKenzie who came by to give his mom Communion since she was too sick to go to church, not the home healthcare aide who made sure his mom got her bath and took her meds on the days Nicky was at work…

It was just Nicky and this gorgeous boy at his feet, and Nicky was going to seize the moment for all it was worth.

He grabbed Strawberry’s head. There wasn’t enough hair to grip, so he cupped the back of his skull and pulled Strawberry’s face to his dick.

Strawberry cursed around Nicky’s cock, the sound a low-pitched groan. Nicky could tell by the way Strawberry shook that he was jacking himself for all he was worth.

“Yeah.” Nicky thrust into his mouth. Wet, hot, tight. Slippery, because Strawberry didn’t have time to swallow his spit. “Damn.”

His cock tingled and buzzed, so sensitive he thought he’d go blind. Nicky bucked until his belly clenched.

Strawberry pulled off, gasping. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” He kept up his firm tugging on Nicky’s dick. His scrunched face showed that he was coming too.

Nicky shot, the strand of white landing on the mossy ground. Strawberry pointed him to avoid his jacket, yanking spasm after spasm, until his hand was slick and Nicky was too sensitive for another touch.

“Oh, man.” Nicky fell back against the tree, letting it support his weight. His legs shook, and the bark scraped his back, but that couldn’t erase the wrung-out contentment coursing through him.

“Liked it, eh?” With a sidelong smirk, Strawberry shook come off his hands and stood.

Nicky reached in his back pocket for a handkerchief. “Here.”