Embers of Change Ignite
the room into a cozy haven, its flickering glow casting dancing shadows on the walls. Blake and I share the couch, close enough that I can practically feel the heat of his body. Fuck, this trip has been a whirlwind, and I don’t know how I’ll survive when I return to my life in LA. For most of my life, Blake had been my world, and it had shattered the moment he rejected me. Rejected us.
Suddenly, in what feels like a scene stolen from a cheesy romance movie, Blake’s hand finds mine, and our fingers intertwine in a surprisingly seamless fit. It’s like our hands were secretly best friends this whole time. My heart skips a beat or three.
Okay, the mixtape of my emotions has hit shuffle mode.
Our eyes meet, and in his gaze, there’s an unmistakable question. It’s the kind of question that can only be answered with a kiss. Like an actor hitting their mark, Blake leans in. I’m torn between feeling like a character in a romantic novel and wondering if I should’ve brought popcorn. My knees turn to jelly and all the emotions from earlier come rushing back.
His lips graze mine, and it’s like the universe just synchronized its playlist to play our song. Our lips meet, a soft collision that quickly escalates to a full-blown orchestra of sensations. Blake’s lips are as smooth and inviting as I remember, and his beard bristles against my skin.
“Kieran,” he whispers, and my stomach clenches.
My cock is hard and erect, begging for attention. Soon, our lips are performing a synchronized tango that’d put Dancing with the Stars to shame. There’s a tentative exploration that quickly evolves into a full-on invasion of personal lip space. But hey, I’m not complaining. The fire’s flickering like it’s trying to keep up with our chemistry.
Blake’s hand cradles my cheek while my hand apparently morphed into a magnet and can’t seem to let go of his chest. His heart beats under my palm, like a subtle reminder that this isn’t a dream sequence—I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Fuck, I shouldn’t want him as badly as I do.
Time goes all Inception on us as minutes feel like seconds and hours like minutes. Our lips continue their gravity-defying routine, and I realize that I’m not just kissing him—I’m tasting memories and dreams we never dared to chase. Blake. My best friend. My first love.
The fire, probably wondering if it’s in the right story, adds its own commentary with a hearty crackle. And as the flames light up the room, it’s like they’re winking at us, saying, “You got this, smoochers.”
As the kiss takes on a life of its own, emotions whirl within me. It’s a dizzying cocktail of nostalgia, longing, and a dash of “holy crap, this is actually happening.”
Blake yanks away, his face flushing, his large thumb brushing over my jawline. “Fuck, Kieran.”
My thoughts exactly. Breaths mingling, I can’t help but chuckle. Because if kissing Blake feels like this, then sign me up for a repeat performance—a sequel, a trilogy, heck, let’s make it a franchise. The fire, clearly approving of our chemistry, throws in a final flourish, and I realize that this moment is the stuff cheesy movies are made of. But who needs movies when you’ve got your own star-studded scene right here by the fire?
“Do you want me?” Blake asks breathlessly. “Tell me to stop.”
“Never.” We’re past the point of no return. I shove him onto the plush fur rug and straddle his hips, ready to unleash my inner cowgirl, when he grabs my narrow waist, moaning long and loud. The ‘point of no return’ is now merely a distant speck in our rearview mirror as he grabs my neck and pulls me down on top of him, covering my mouth with a bruising kiss. Fuck yes!
I jerk my hips, groaning when I feel Blake’s thick cock through his slacks. The delicious heat between us is enough to make my toes curl. His muscles are thick and corded in his jacket. I want to lick him from head to toe like an ice cream cone. “Blake,” I gasp into his mouth.
He grunts and then snakes his hands between our bodies as I writhe on top of him, and he starts to fumble with the button of my slacks, wrenching it open. “Damn, Kieran. You taste so fucking good.”
The adrenaline is pumping through my veins as I fumble with the buttons on his shirt and lift it over his head, and I can’t help but notice the way he trembles as my fingers brush over his chest.
“I’ve waited so long for you,” Blake murmurs, but his voice is taut. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”
My brain is in a lust-induced fog, so I can’t really make out what he’s saying so I do the same thing and ignore it. Talking about the past is too painful. I’d rather lose myself in the desire.
With his shirt swiftly thrown to the floor, I pull him towards me to resume our fevered kiss. The contact of his now bare chest on mine is exhilarating in the best way possible. Blake breaks the kiss, and I swear the room is spinning as his hands grip my shoulders, and he’s rolling us until I’m on my back, staring up into his dark eyes as he pins me to the mattress. He moves down on the rug in one fluid motion to kneel by my feet, his eyes never leaving mine.
Blake dips his fingers below the waistband of my slacks and gently tugs, sending the fabric sliding past my hips and down my legs before he carelessly throws them on the floor. A small smile plays across his face as he sees I’m wearing nothing else underneath, but it quickly vanishes, only to be replaced with a look of utter adoration. “Commando? Really?”
“You know I have a condition that makes me allergic to certain types of fabrics!” I say back, my face flushing red.
He looks at me like I’m everything he’s ever wanted but never thought he could have. His fingers trail up my leg, just barely making contact, like he’s scared to touch me for fear of finding out I’m not really here, lying in front of him. I grab his hand and pull him within inches of my face, whispering with my gaze burning into his. The words are for me as much as they are for him.
“This is real. I never thought…Kieran…”
He traces his fingers along my jawline, and the way Blake’s fingers ghost over my skin, it’s like he’s trying to banish the ghosts of the past. I run my fingers down his sides until I’m gently tugging at the elastic band of his pants, signaling my wants. Blake’s lips cover mine again as he moves to shed his pants and boxers, without ever breaking the kiss. He flips me onto my back, knocking the wind out of me, and then pulls away and hovers his lips above mine, whispering in a tone that’s low and heavy. “Last chance to call this off.”
“What is this, 21 questions? You need to learn to take ‘yes’ for an answer. I want this.”
Blake grunts, capturing my mouth in a searing kiss. I groan as his hot mouth leaves a wet trail down my neck before going to my torso. My hips jerk as Blake’s lips ghost over my hipbones.
I forget my name when I feel them envelop my aching cock in the wet heat of his mouth. Fuck yes! I arch into his touch. My cock is swollen and veiny as Blake’s tongue swirls over the weeping slit, gathering the pre-come oozing there.
I throw my head back and let out a deep moan as I clutch at the fur rug, fingers intertwined with the soft fabric. His meaty fingers trail over the inside of my thigh. The waves of sensations coursing through my body make me want to do nothing but close my eyes and let go. I watch Blake’s every breath and every movement of his lips as they slide down my rigid flesh. I reach down to rake my fingers lightly through his thick, black, wavy hair, zeroing in on that lip ring that glints in the firelight. Fuck, Blake’s mouth was made to take cock. His pink lips are slick with spit; his green eyes are dark with desire. His teeth graze the head of my cock, and stars burst across my vision. “I’m gonna come, baby!”
I’m panting so hard, gripping onto the tattoos on Blake’s forearm. God, he’s so sexy. I want to drown in him. Blake looks up at me, his lips curling into a knowing smile around my cock stuffing his mouth. His voice hums low, sending a shiver through my whole body. My balls tighten, drawing up so tight I’m sure they’re going to burst. He yanks off my cock, and I want to scream. Bastard!
“Not yet, baby.” Blake pulls away and walks towards one of the dressers near the table to pull out some lube and a condom, which must have been there since high school. “Do your parents really never come here?”
I’m too busy trying to laser him with my eyes to hear his question. Blake laughs at my angry expression and kneels between my legs again. He nuzzles into my thigh, sighing deep in his throat before kissing my skin. The dark brown hairs on my thigh bristles.
Blake kisses a wet trail up my body again, creeping as his soft lips skate over my skin. I’m gasping with every move he makes and struck speechless by the time he’s hovering his lips right above mine. I can’t seem to get enough air of my own, and it feels like I have to steal his too as it rushes past his lips.
He dips his head down for another fiery kiss, even biting at my lower lip, and I whimper into his mouth at the delicious feeling of his teeth on my skin. Seconds later, he pulls away to replace his lips with his index finger, running it slowly over my bottom lip. A moan escapes me, and I draw his finger into my mouth with a sucking pull. The salty-sweet taste of his skin dances on my tongue. The rug shifts as he sits up, prying my knees further apart. “You’re gorgeous, Kieran. Remember when I used to fuck you in my jersey? Fuck, I’m so hard thinking about it now.”
He slides his index finger from my mouth and trails it down my body to the pristine skin of my ass. I groan as his fingers skirt the edges of my heated opening before slipping in. Blake leans down, hovering over me, his eyes captivated as they watch every expression on my face. With his free hand, he squirts lube onto my cock. The fat globs slide down the tip and shaft, before dripping into my crack.
Blake pumps his fingers in and out, nice and slow. My throat goes dry, lips parted as I try to breathe around the blockage in my throat. Memories of our first time assault me, and I ignore the burning sensation in my eyes as Blake takes me again after five years.
His eyes slam shut, and he takes in a sharp breath as he slides his fingers in, slowly at first, until his eyes finally flutter open again and I’m staring into the storm playing out within them.
“Fuck, Blake,” I rasp, my heart caving in.
The pulling and flexing of every muscle in his arm is captivating as he continues to work me open. His dark eyes don’t break from mine as he leans down and whispers against my lips. “I got you, baby,” he mutters and then curls his fingers.
He hits that bundle of nerves so swiftly I cry out. My back bows hard. “Blake!”
“I’m gonna fuck you,” Blake says, his voice thick with lust, and slides his hand to my hip as he withdraws his fingers. I whine at the loss and barely have time to adjust before the head of this thick cock is pushing at my entrance.
A low, heavy moan pushes past Blake’s lips as he pushes in. I cry out, scrambling to grab his arms for purchase as he thrusts his cock in. He isn’t small by any means. His thick cock pulses, and I grunt when I feel him bottom out, the hairs over his crotch brushing against my taut ass. “Fuck, Kieran!”
Blake snaps his hips forward, and my brain turns into mush. I grunt and moan, leaning up to graze my teeth over the sensitive skin on Blake’s neck, sucking on his thick Adam’s apple. His hands are warm against my sides as his cock plunges deep within me, adding to the sensations that are threatening to overtake me. It’s all becoming too much, but I can’t let go. I can’t let myself fall over that exquisite edge. “Fuck!” Blake’s cock plunges so deep, a spangled ray of fireworks erupts over my eyes. My entire body shudders and it takes everything not to come there and then.
I bite at my lower lip, nearly breaking the skin. Soft lips brush over my skin as he whispers against my ear. It’s dizzying, maddening. It’s so easy to get lost in his breathy words and his hushed tone. Another intense wave of sensations washes over me, like waves of the ocean crashing over the shoreline.
I can’t fight it any longer. I can’t hold on.
“Blake—I’m gonna come—fuck, I’m coming!”
Everything I had been holding back, holding onto, vanishes with those words. The chains holding me break, and the entire world ceases to be. All I know is Blake’s lips hovering above mine, his breath sweeping over my skin, the taste of his mouth, and the way he feels around me.
Everything blurs, pulses. Fuck.
An explosion of bright white streaks dance across my vision. My own breathing, harsh and roaring in my ears, is the only evidence there’s any air left in my lungs. The heat. Oh, God, the heat. It seems to radiate from my core, and just when I think I might burn alive, I’m hit with an intense chill as all my muscles tense. Somewhere in the corners of my mind, I can hear Blake’s charged voice and feel his lips whispering against my overheated skin as the release shudders through every part of my body.
“Fuck, baby—I’m coming!” Blake’s hips snap uncontrollably, fucking me through the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had in my entire life. His cock twitches in my asshole, pumping like mad into the condom. A part of me wants to tear it off, to feel his searing come fill my tight hole once again.
My stomach clenches at the memory. Blake collapses onto my chest, his muscled back flexing as he pants to catch his breath. His blunt nails dig into my shoulder, and he pushes back slightly, straightening up and forcing himself deeper into my already gaping hole.
“Fuck, Kieran,” he groans, his cock still twitching and pumping. “I’m coming again, baby—”
The rise and fall of his chest, his ragged breath escaping him in short bursts through slightly parted lips, his fluid movements. It’s enough to make me dizzy all over again. His teeth graze over my collarbone, while his low, guttural groans fill my ear, and I feel every muscle in his body tense as he hurries to pull out and tear off the condom, just as his cock erupts and warmth spills over my stomach.
I suck in a shaky breath as Blake collapses into my arms, and I can feel his heart still pounding in his chest as he lies on top of me, sated and slick with sweat. I trail my fingers up and down his spine as the shivers work through his body. That was amazing. Too amazing.
Blake looks at me and thumbs my cheek. I’m too boneless to move, but my eyes widen when his thumb comes away wet. He chuckles, low and deep. “You always cry when I fuck you so deep. I missed that. I missed you.”
I can’t speak. There’s a noose around my neck. I came here with the sole purpose of making him pay for what he did to me. Now I feel like I’m the one that’s been played. I swallow around the thick knot in my throat and turn my face away, but the tears won’t stop. They keep coming.
Blake. Why did you have to destroy me? I want to beg, but I don’t. My lips are clamped shut.
“You okay?” Blake asks, then presses a kiss to my cheek.
“Fine,” I force a laugh. “Damn, I’m wetter than Wild Water Kingdom.”
Blake chuckles richly. “Yeah, and boy do I love it.”
***I wake up, my mouth tasting like cotton and regret. I squint against the harsh sunlight filtering in. Blake’s rhythmic breathing and the warmth of his body remind me of the night before, and the memories of the reunion rush back. Did that really happen? Did I really succumb to my impulses and end up on the rug with my ex-boyfriend after five years? Ugh, I feel like the embodiment of bad decisions. Just as I’m about to mentally berate myself further, Blake stirs, pulling me into his embrace, his grin playful and his voice laced with morning sensuality.
“How did you sleep?” he asks, his gaze fixed on mine.
“Like a brick.” I want to quip, but I swallow the retort, suddenly feeling a tad self-conscious beside him. I turn to face him, looking up at Blake’s rugged charm. Tribal tattoos ripple across his powerful biceps, the glint of his lip ring catches the sunlight, and his piercing green eyes make my heart skip a beat.
“Hungry?” I venture, doing my best to resist the urge to attack his mouth once more.
Blake shrugs, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Waffles?”
I burst into laughter. “Waffie Waffles!”
In perfect unison, we echo the silly joke from our youth. It was a dumb phrase we coined back then—a fallback plan for when hunger struck, and cooking ideas were scarce. “Waffie Waffles” would leave us in fits of laughter, a reminder of simpler times. Oh, how I long for those uncomplicated moments. Fuck, those were the best times. Tears sting my eyes and I have to pull away from him. I look around for my shirt and wipe off the dry come there. Blake seems content to stretch out on the rug, his long limbs splayed like a delicious snack. I gather my clothes and hurry to walk away, afraid I’ll be tempted to eat him again.
I slip into a pair of loose sweatpants and set about preparing breakfast. A thin blanket of snow covers the ground outside, casting a tranquil scene. My focus turns to making those cherished “Waffie Waffles,” whisking ingredients together, and losing myself in the simple act of baking.
However, before I can fully immerse myself, Blake’s arms envelop me from behind, his warm breath tickling my neck. My own body is lean and fit, with a narrow waist and well-defined abs, but next to Blake’s imposing figure, I feel almost delicate. His muscular frame is like an impenetrable wall, solid and unyielding. As his lips brush against the nape of my neck, a soft sigh escapes me.
“Smells good, baby,” he murmurs, and time seems to stand still.
My heart hammers, and I freeze. “Baby.” That word, laden with memories, hits me like a ton of bricks. My throat constricts around the knot of emotions, and I step away abruptly. He doesn’t have the right to call me that anymore. Not after the hurt he inflicted. The air is thick with unsaid words as our gazes lock, and in that charged moment, I realize that some wounds never truly heal.
I’m not the type to complain. Blake knows that. Even after my brother died and my parents abandoned me, I never even called them to ask why. It’s the same thing with Blake. After he humiliated me in the locker rooms, I deleted him from all my social media accounts and never spoke to him again.
Avoidance. It’s how I dealt with the worst types of pain.
With a strained chuckle, I attempt to recapture the lightness that we had earlier.
“Let’s sit down and enjoy these,” I suggest, hoping to dispel the tension that has settled between us. Blake stands there, seemingly at a loss for where to place his hands.
“Yeah, sure. Let’s eat,” he finally replies, his voice lacking its earlier fervor. The easy camaraderie we once shared now feels like a distant memory, and I struggle to understand where to go next. We haven’t spoken in years, not since he broke my heart and I disappeared.
Blake lives in Detroit, and I live in LA. We’re different people now.
I serve up the waffles. My movements are mechanical rather than enthusiastic. Operation: Un-Closet the Closet still occupies my thoughts, but I have to guard against the flood of emotions that Blake’s unexpected return has triggered. He broke up with me without a second thought, and then his absence for five years felt like an unspoken rejection.
Amidst the clinking of utensils and the soft rustling of fabric, Blake’s voice cuts through the silence. “Ugh, my parents want me to visit now that I’m in town,” he admits with a touch of vulnerability. “I’m planning to visit them later today. Would you...consider coming?”
I mull over his invitation, weighing the past against the present, before responding with a nonchalant shrug. “Why not? I’m only here for a few days, anyway. Then I’ll be heading back to LA.”
“Right.” A subtle twitch in Blake’s brow hints at his surprise. “For your pet food tasting job?” he inquires, his tone curious yet guarded.
My eyes narrow. “How did you even find out about that?”
He gives me a deadpan look. “Facebook.”
What? I almost spit out my waffles. “What do you mean, Facebook?” I don’t have him on Facebook. In fact, I remember deleting him and blocking him on Facebook! “You’ve been keeping tabs on me through social media?”
A light flush spread to Blake’s cheeks and he clears his throat. “I may have created a fake account and added you.”
I’m not sure how I feel about that. My ex-boyfriend, who I assumed had forgotten all about me, was making fake Facebook accounts to stalk me. Huh. “Oh.”
My emotions are a tangled mess. Blake’s revelation about keeping tabs on me through social media, the reminder of how he shattered my heart, and now his attempt at explaining his actions—it’s all too much to process. My skepticism is palpable as I fix him with a narrowed gaze. “Why?”
His gaze drops to his plate. “You wouldn’t talk to me back then...how could I face you after that? God, Kieran,” he trails off, frustration mingling with remorse. “I panicked when you came to hug me. The scouts were nearby, and my dad... I wasn’t ready to come out, but that didn’t mean that—” He stumbles over his words, a hint of desperation in his voice. “That I didn’t love you. Or that—”
“Save it,” I cut him off. “It doesn’t mean anything.” It’s a lie—a thin veil over the whirlwind of feelings threatening to consume me. I push my chair back, the distance between us suddenly feeling insufficient. I need to get out of here. “I’m a bit sticky, so I’ll clean up first.”
My heart is racing, my mind struggling to keep up with the flood of memories and emotions that Blake’s confession has triggered. I hadn’t anticipated diving into this painful past so quickly.
I feel my hands tremble as I gather my plate and toss whatever I didn’t eat into the compost. Fuck. I can’t stop shaking. Blake’s eyes drill a hole in the back of my neck, but I can’t stay here a second longer. I love you. Then why didn’t you fight for me? My eyes burn again. Who cares about all that now? Who cares if I had loved him like no one else? Who cares if he was my best friend, the one person I trusted wholeheartedly? It’s all in the past. We’re living separate lives, in different states. He’s in Detroit, and I’m in L.A. The distance between us is more than just physical.
“Kieran—” Blake stands.
“I’m fine,” I mutter, attempting to sound casual, to brush off the turmoil that’s raging inside me. “Let’s just move on.” I stand at the sink, intent on washing the dishes, the simplest task to distract myself. But Blake follows, his footsteps echoing in the tense silence. He grabs my hand, his touch firm.
“You don’t seem fine, Kieran.”
I clench my jaw, my emotions coiled like a spring ready to snap. I can’t contain my anger much longer, and the resentment I’ve carried for five years is surging forward.
Not here. Not now. I can’t let him see me break.
“See any good movies lately?” I deflect, my tone laced with bitterness. “I like the new Fast and Furious. Although they really could have replaced Vin Diesel’s part with a walking stick, and I’m sure the acting would have been better, too.”
“Kieran.” Blake’s voice is soft, laced with genuine apology. “I’m sorry.” His words hit me like a wave, a rush of pent-up rage and frustration. Five years of simmering resentment boil over, and suddenly, I’m consumed by a blinding fury. Sorry. That’s all he has to offer after the way he humiliated me, the way he tore apart everything we had.
My grip tightens on a dish, my fingers trembling. I can’t control the storm of emotions inside me. The weight of all the unresolved pain crashes over me, and without another word, I drop the dishes, the sound of shattering porcelain echoing through the room.
I can’t face him any longer. I can’t pretend that everything is okay when it’s not. With my heart pounding, I flee the room.