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Happy Friday everyone! I hope you like Alan and Jon, because you’ll get to meet them again today. This is part six, and it contains chicken soup and more medicines than you can possibly need. And here’s a virtual kiss to my friend Kris for coming up with that particular idea 😘😘

(Parts 1234, and 5 of Alan and Jon’s story if you need to get up to speed.)

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Was it possible to become addicted to someone after only a couple weeks?

I hadn’t seen Jon in forever—three days counted as forever, it did—and I suffered from severe snuggle withdrawals. He’d been away on a business trip and was expected home tonight. As soon as I was released from my prison, eh work, I was storming over there. I needed warm, strong Jon-hugs right this second. Preferably yesterday, dammit.

As six o’clock drew close, I got more and more restless. The contents of my screen blurred together, my gaze wandered, and I glanced at the time once every minute.

When my phone buzzed with a message, I did my special butt wiggle dance on my chair. I grabbed my phone and pulled up the text.

Home with a cold and fever. Gotta cancel. Miss u. xoxo

My smile turned into a frown and my fingers flew over my screen as I typed out a reply.

Oh no! I’m so sorry. Do you need anything?

Thank u, but I’m fine. Don’t want u 2 catch anything.

I wanted to object and to rush over there and smother him in care, but I didn’t want to scare him off. I needed to respect his wishes.


Deep, deep sigh.

After texting him a ‘get well soon’ message, I collected my things and left the office. Now that I didn’t have a warm embrace to hurry home to, I took a detour to the grocery store. Uninspired, I picked up the things I needed. Cereal. Fruit. Milk. Boring boring boring.

As I passed by the chicken, I was struck by an idea that erased the grumpiness from my face. I hustled through the aisles, threw the additional stuff I needed in my cart, made a detour to the drugstore, and rushed home to execute my plan.

A couple hours later, I sent a text to Jon.

I know you said not to come over, but I have something for you. Can I leave it on your porch?

I stood by my kitchen window, bouncing on my feet as if someone had attached a spring to them, and stared at his house, waiting for him to reply to my message. Maybe, I should just sneak over there and leave it outside his door and go back home. No, that would be a stupid idea if he was asleep and the neighborhood cat found it.

Oh shit. That was it. He was probably already asleep. Unless I woke him up with my text. Should I text him and apologize for disturbing him? Should I—

Buzz buzz.

I picked up my phone at warp speed and opened his reply.

Don’t b silly. Come over.

After shoving down the phone in my back pocket, I slung the stuffed tote bag over my shoulder, grabbed the huge pot, and made my way out. I kicked the door shut behind me, and when I was halfway across the street, Jon stepped out on the porch.

He was wrapped in a soft-looking knitted blanket, his eyes that usually sparkled with life were dull and glossy, and his cheeks were flushed.

“You should be in bed,” I called out to him with a scowl on my face. I increased my speed and soon I reached his side. “Get inside right this instant!”

“Someone wanted to give me something,” he said with a fond smile.

“I know. Someone—” I spit out the word in air-quotes, “clearly didn’t know what they were talking about. Get in.” I flicked my head to the open door.

I followed him inside, kicked off my shoes, and carried my things into the kitchen. He trailed after me.

“What is all this?” he asked.

After I’d put down everything, I turned to him. I touched my wrist against his forehead. He was warm. I frowned.

Jon chuckled. “What’s the prognosis, doctor Parsons? Will I live?”

“Shut up,” I muttered under my breath and started unpacking the contents of my bag. A huge box of tissues with lotion. NyQuil. Tylenol Cold for multiple symptoms. Tylenol cold+flu. Sudafed.

He was laughing at me now. “Did you buy the entire drug store?”

“No. I didn’t buy the hemorrhoid cream.”

A strangled sound behind me made me swirl around. He had covered his mouth with his palm, presumably to keep his merry laughter trapped inside. His eyes crinkled and his gaze was warm.

That look in his eyes…Wow. I shivered.

I reached out and removed his hand. Then I gently cupped his face and swept my thumbs across his cheekbones. “I made you chicken soup.”

His mouth fell open. “You made me chicken soup?”

“From scratch.” I nodded and brushed his sweaty hair away from his face. “It was my nana’s recipe. She used to make it when I was sick. It always made me feel better.”

“Oh, honey.”

My breath stuttered. I looked him right in the eye. “You called me honey.”

“I did.”

 I flung my arms around his neck and pulled him in for a hug.

“Don’t. You’ll get sick, too.”

“I don’t care. You called me honey.”

He wrapped his arms around my waist—finally, hallelujah!—and pulled me close.

“Thank you, honey.” He emphasized the endearment. “No one has ever made me soup when I was sick before.”

“Want some?” I should let go of him. I should fix him a bowl, make sure he took some medicine, and go back home so he could sleep.

“I’d love to.”

I buried my nose in the crook of his neck and inhaled before I reluctantly let go and stepped away. “I’ll get you some. Sit down.”

He grabbed my hand. “Will you stay and have soup with me? I really did miss you.”

My heart swelled in my chest and I had to swallow. “I’d love to. I missed you, too.”

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Happy weekend everyone.



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Happy Friday everyone! It’s FlashFiction time, and time for part 5 of Alan and Jon’s story. Two weeks ago, Addison left me a few words in the comments of part 4…she’s got special permission to do so even if I don’t ask for them 🙂  And last week, I gave her three prompt words to use in the next flashfic and went about my day…until I was struck by an idea a couple hours later: what if I took the words I’d just given her and incorporated them in MY story, too? Use both the ones I’d gotten from her and the ones I gave her? After I decided I’d do it, I poked her and asked if she was up for some fun: that we both use all six words in our story this Friday and see what we could come up with.

She said yes, of course, which means both of us got stuck with phone, bed, and waffle (the words from Addison to me) and yoga, Yggdrasil and yoctosecond (the words from me to Addison).

Here’s what I came up with. And Here’s Addison’s post. It’s really funny and it made me giggle like a madwoman. And even though our stories are pretty different, they had one thing in common: perving on someone while in an interesting yoga pose 🙂  

(Parts 123, and 4 of Alan and Jon’s story if you need to get up to speed.)

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With my phone in a tight grip, I stumbled into the kitchen, my eyes barely open. Six in the morning—it should be a crime to be awake at this ungodly hour. But early morning sunshine and the excited chirping of birds had disturbed my sleep, and after twisting and turning in bed for what felt like forever, I gave up. I threw my angriest glare at the birds, but it didn’t stop them. If anything, they got even louder.

So, tea. I needed tea. And maybe I could actually have something other than a granola bar for breakfast since I didn’t have to be at work for another three hours. Like bacon. Or waffles. Yeah, waffles would be good.

I filled the kettle with fresh, cold water and added tea leaves to the flowery pot that had been my grandma’s. While I waited for it to boil, I pulled up the text Jon had sent me yesterday after our date. I’d already read it a thousand times, but it made me ridiculously giddy so I couldn’t help myself.

Thnx 4 dinner. Had a gr8 time. Can’t wait to kiss spaghetti sauce off ur nose again. xoxo

A smile spread across my face and a happy sigh slipped out. Jon was…wonderful. Up until a few days ago, he’d only been a hot guy I couldn’t stop ogling, but after getting to know him a little better, I was smitten. Crushing hard. If I’d been an emoji, I would have hearts for eyes.

I rubbed my hand over my sleep messy hair. God. This thing between us…could turn serious in a heartbeat if I let it. “Cool your heels, Alan,” I muttered as I poured the hot water over the leaves. We’d only known each other for a couple days. It was way too early for… anything.

While the tea was steeping, I grabbed eggs and milk from the fridge and rummaged the pantry for the rest of the ingredients for waffles. After three minutes on the dot, I strained the tea and poured myself the first cup of the day.

I closed my eyes and inhaled the lovely aroma of bergamot. Nothing beat a great cup of Earl Grey in the morning. A couple sips later, I started to feel like a human being and not like some kind of monster risen from the dead. I opened my eyes again and looked out my kitchen window…and almost dropped my mug.

Jon. On his porch. Dressed in nothing but the tiniest pair of shorts I’d ever seen. Doing some kind of exercise. Yoga, maybe? He stretched his limbs, making the muscles play under his skin.

I gulped.

Blinked several times to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He moved with a fluidity and grace I hadn’t expected. With sweeping arms and straight back and head held high, he was beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking.

Mesmerized, I watched him grab his right foot with his right hand and lift it up and back at the same time as he extended his left arm forward. He held that pose for what seemed like forever and was steady as a rock. And even if I was too far away to notice if his muscles trembled, I would have bet money on that they didn’t. Smoothly, he put down the leg and repeated the pose on the other side. I was in awe. With my shitty balance, I would have been unable to hold that position for longer than a yoctosecond. Heh. Who was I kidding? I wouldn’t even have gotten my leg in that position.

And then he bent forward, hands touching the floor. Ass sticking up in the air.

Someone whimpered. Was it me, making that pathetic sound? Who the fuck cared?

Without a second thought, I spun on my heel and ran out of the house, wearing only my pajama pants. The tea sloshed down on my bare feet and forced me to slow down. When I reached his porch, I was calm.


His eyes were closed, and he hadn’t noticed me approaching. He had both feet planted on the ground, his arms stretched up and a serene look on his face. I probably shouldn’t disturb him.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” I blurted out and winced as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

His head jerked in my direction, and his eyes flew open, but he held the position. “Alan!”

“What are you doing?”

“Um, yoga?” He lowered his arms and bent forward again.

“Are you asking or telling?” I leaned my hip against the railing and took a big gulp of tea, my gaze never leaving him.

“Ha ha.” Slowly, he pulled himself up to standing and reached for the heavens again.

“So, what’s that pose called? Um…Yggdrasil?”

“What?” he chuckled and wobbled.

“Don’t all yoga poses have fancy names?”

He shook his head with a fond smile on his face. “Yeah, but…not…that’s just weird.”

I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, I just took a wild guess.”

“You’ve never tried yoga?”

His question made me laugh. “Dude, I have no coordination whatsoever. It wouldn’t be a pretty sight.”

“You’re saying you’re afraid to try.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Oh, no, he didn’t.

I straightened my back. “I’m not afraid of anything.” That was such a lie, but I’d never been one to leave a thrown glove on the ground. Even if it was in my best interest.

He stepped close and his scent found its way into my nose, and I hummed. Warm hands cupped mine, and carefully he took the mug from me and put it down on the railing. Then he slid his hand up my arm and over my shoulder and didn’t stop until he rested it on my neck. I shivered.

“What are you doing up so early, anyway?” His voice was low and husky.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I murmured. “But now I realize it must have been the universe telling me I couldn’t miss this—” I gestured at him, “for the world.”

“Is that so?” He leaned forward and rested his cheek against mine.


“Up for a little yoga this morning, Alan?” His breath was hot in my ear and sent a quiver down my spine.

“Ummm…” Was I supposed to be able to think clearly with him this close? Did he expect an answer?

“We’ll start with something easy.”

He stepped back and grabbed my wrists and pulled me over to the mat while I was still under the spell of his slightly sweaty scent. I just wanted to bury my nose in the crook of his neck and inhale and lick and—

While I’d been lost in lustful thoughts, he’d positioned us, so I was in front of him. He stood close enough for me to feel his body heat, but not close enough to touch. Would he notice if I took a step back?

“Concentrate, Alan,” he said with his voice full of laughter.


“Just try Downward Facing Dog. It’ll give me a reason to stare at your butt.”

“You don’t need a reason for that.” I moved back, and my breath stuttered as his chest touched my back.

“Hey. You’re not playing fair,” he said and pressed his body closer to mine. His palms slid around my waist until his strong arms encircled me completely. I sighed and leaned my head back on his shoulder. My eyes drifted closed and everything except Jon faded into the background. His chest rose and fell against my back and slowly our breathing synchronized. My belly filled with butterflies as his thumbs drew circles on my skin. I rested my hands on top of his, needing to feel connected to him.

Far too soon a door slammed somewhere and disturbed our moment of tranquility. I heaved out a disappointed sigh.

“I know,” he mumbled.

“This was the best morning I’ve ever had.”

“Me too.”

I twisted in his embrace, flung my arms around his neck, and buried my face in his shoulder. His hands rested just above the waistband of my sleep pants, blazing against my skin. “Can we do this again?” I asked.

“You can always join me for yoga tomorrow.” His hands slid a little lower.

Damn him for taking advantage of me while I was powerless. I pressed a kiss to his neck. “Okay.”

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Happy weekend everyone.


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Happy Friday everyone! It’s FlashFiction time, and also time for part 4 of Alan and Jon’s story. Addison left me a couple words two weeks ago, and I’ve incorporated them in the story. The words are insulated and imagine. (However, I took some liberties with the word imagine, but I figure it’s allowed 😊 ) Someone also wanted to see a kiss between the guys…and I may or may not have obliged! 😊

Here are parts 12, and 3 if you need to get up to speed.

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I stood in my designated spying-on-my-hot-neighbor spot, maybe a little less hidden behind the curtain this morning. Ever since Jon had pressed a chaste kiss on my cheek yesterday, said goodnight, and gone home, I’d debated with myself whether to perv on him as usual. I’d almost decided not to when my phone had vibrated with a text.

CU tmrw. No need to hide. xo

So, there I was. Bouncing on the balls of my feet. Gnawing on the knuckle of my right index finger with eyes flitting between my watch and his door.

He was late. He was never late; usually, I could set my watch after him, so what took him so long today? Yesterday, he’d said he would have to run twice the distance to make up for all the sweets he’d eaten, but that had been a joke, hadn’t it? I wouldn’t know, I wasn’t a work-out kind of person.

I peeked around the curtain, sighed, and stepped into sight. “It’s not like he doesn’t know I’m here,” I muttered and checked the time for the hundredth time. Five minutes late. What if…what if he’d changed his mind? Realized when he got home that I was kind of a geek—kind of, who was I kidding?—who didn’t know when to shut up, and decided he didn’t want to see me again? What if he’d snuck out the back-door or gone to work at the buttcrack of dawn to avoid me?

“Oh em gee, Alan!” I resisted smacking my forehead for being stupid and gripped the counter. How long should I wait for him to show up? When would it cross the line into creep-territory? Or would the only thing I’d see if I waited long enough, be a U-Haul truck, picking up all his things?

I sighed. My imagination was crazier than ever this morning. But maybe it was time to come to terms with the fact there wouldn’t be a Jon-sighting today? I’d better get ready for work. Too bad, my days always felt a little easier after I’d gotten a good look at his chest and all that glorious sk—

Jon’s door flew open and he stepped out and a happy whooping sound escaped my mouth.

But dammit, he was dressed!

He looked right at me as he kicked the door closed, jumped off the porch, and sauntered across the street. His hips swung from side to side and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Was he trying to drive me crazy?

As he came closer he held up two insulated cups and nodded at my door. I got the message, raced through the house, and opened it. Calmly. At least that’s what I told myself.

“Good morning. I come bearing gifts,” he said.

“Why are you wearing a shirt?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth I stiffened. My eyes widened, and I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole. Being boiled to death in magma didn’t seem like the world’s worst idea right now. What the hell was wrong with me?

Jon stumbled but managed to keep himself on his feet. He stared at me for a second with a surprised look on his face before bursting out in a booming laughter. “You’re so cute I can’t stand it.” He shook his head, took the last few steps, and jumped up and joined me on the porch. After a moments’ hesitation, he leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the cheek.

My hand flew up and covered the spot he’d kissed. My skin buzzed, and a shiver ran down my spine. Whoa.

He held out one of the cups to me.

“Eh, I—”

“It’s tea.”

“You brought me tea?”

“Yes,” he said. “I remember that you don’t like coffee.”

I took the offered beverage, unscrewed the lid, and inhaled, happily humming as the scent of sun-ripened strawberries reached my nose. After a sip, I stepped closer to him. The back of my hand brushed against his, and he caught it and weaved our fingers together.

“I can’t stay long,” he said.

“I know.” I had his morning routine memorized after all.

“But I didn’t want to wait to see you.” The words were barely audible, and he averted his eyes.

He was such a delightful mix of cocky and shy and it made my knees week. I wanted to get to know this man. I wanted to learn everything about him and find out if this chemistry that sizzled behind us could be something more.

And I wanted to kiss him. I freed my hand from his grip, turned to him, and cupped his cheek. “Thank you for the tea. I love strawberry.”

“Yeah?” He leaned into my touch.

I nodded. I usually wasn’t this brave, but the unexpected vulnerability he displayed gave me courage. My gaze moved to his mouth. It called out to me, craved my attention. “Can I kiss you?”

Jon’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yes.”

I took my time. Stroked my thumb over his lower lip. Bumped his nose with mine. Rubbed my cheek against his and shivered under the scruffiness.

“Alan,” he complained.

Leaning my forehead against his, I slid my hand down to the back of his neck. He shivered under my touch and I squeezed lightly.

When his eyes fell closed, I ghosted my mouth over his. Once. Twice. The third time, I lingered. His lips tasted of coffee, but somehow I liked the flavor on him. After a few seconds, I pulled back. He groaned and hid his face in the crook of my neck.

“Was that okay?” I asked.

“More than.”


“But I have to go.”

“I know.”

He kissed my neck and I gasped. “Can I see you tonight?” he asked and straightened.

A smile bloomed on my face. It seems I didn’t have to worry about the U-Haul emptying his place. Fantastic! “I’ll cook us dinner.”

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Happy weekend everyone.


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I know that today isn’t Friday. Don’t worry, I haven’t hit my head and mixed up the days. But I wrote a Valentine’s Day story about two characters you know by now, and it seemed silly not to post it on actual V-day. Right?

So without further ado, here’s the story about Lenny and JJ’s Valentine’s Day. And as you hopefully know by know, Lenny and JJ first showed up in my holiday story The Christmas Day Date. We’ve also met them another time, on New Year’s Eve.

I hope you enjoy, and Happy Valentine’s Day everyone…if you celebrate it. Happy Wednesday if you don’t! 🙂

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The Valentine’s Day Date

I stared at myself in the mirror. I looked so different and yet the same. My hair was slicked back from my face, gathered in a neat bun at the back of my head, and my stubble was more closely shaved than usual. My eyelid was as droopy as ever, but for once I didn’t care about that. Instead, I focused on what I wore.

A suit.

I, Lenny Painter, wore a suit.

I’d found it in a second-hand store the other day and been attracted to it immediately. It was in great shape and of excellent quality, but because it was outdated—the seventies called and wanted their fashion back—it hadn’t set me back more than twenty bucks. It was charcoal gray with low-slung, bellbottom pants and a tight-fitting coat. Underneath, I wore a light blue shirt, and if the color had reminded me of JJ’s eyes when I’d seen it in the store, I was the only one who knew.

Technically the suit should have been a disaster on me. But somehow it worked wonders for my body; it made the slight pout of my stomach disappear and clung to all the right places. My legs looked like they went on for miles, and more than once I’d turned my back to the mirror, stood on my toes, and admired the way my ass looked in the pants. I had a hard time believing it could look that tight and…hot.

I looked…good enough…for the evening. I hoped JJ would think so, too.

My phone beeped as I walked out of the bathroom.

Have a great night. Remember what I’ve taught you and you’ll be fine. I’ll bring my phone everywhere until you give me the all clear. The message was followed by a winky-face emoji.

A smile broke out on my face. Ella. How the fuck had I been so lucky to meet her that day in early January when I’d gone to my first AA meeting? When she’d stood to talk, wearing a patch over her left eye, and had introduced herself with her best pirate imitation, the entire room had burst out laughing. The eye thing had made me feel weirdly connected to her and after working up my courage by drinking three cups of the crappy coffee they served, I’d approached her.

We’d hit it off like a house on fire, and at first, I’d been surprised. But I figured sometimes even a washed-up ex-drunk like me had to be lucky and for once fate had picked the right moment for me.

K. Can’t thank u enough, I wrote back before stuffing the phone into my pocket. Stopping at the front door for a second before heading out, I took a deep breath and held it in my lungs. I counted to thirty before letting it out again, straightened my shoulders, and just like that, I was ready.

I locked the door behind me and took a couple quick steps across the hall. Without hesitation, I knocked but didn’t have to wait before the door flew open and revealed a worried-looking JJ.

His hand flew to his throat as he saw me and he dragged his gaze up and down my body, leaving tingles in its wake. I fingered the hem of my jacket, trying my hardest not to fidget as the seconds dragged out into what felt like hours, and doubt niggled in the back of my mind.

“Wow, Lenny,” he whispered. Finally. “You look…” He didn’t finish what he was gonna say. Instead, he stepped into my space, cupped my cheeks with careful fingers, and looked straight into my eyes. “Wow,” he repeated. Then he leaned in and stole my breath with a scorching kiss.

His lips were soft yet demanding against mine. His fingers danced along my jaw as he scraped his fingernails in my stubble. The worry disappeared out of my head as his tongue begged to be let into my mouth. I opened willingly to him and couldn’t help humming into his mouth. I grabbed his hip and squeezed as warmth spread in my tummy and my pants grew tight.

A whimper escaped me when he ended the kiss, but he didn’t move away. His breath tickled my cheek and he pressed his pelvis against me. I gulped down the air as his hardness pressed against mine.

“You look stunning,” he whispered.


“Oh, yes.” He ran his hand down my arm and wove his fingers with mine. Then he took a step back. “What’s going on? Why are we dressed up?” he asked.

“I…” I squeezed his hand and cleared my throat. I’d calmed down enough to register what he was wearing and forgot whatever it was I was going to say as.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him. His pinstriped suit, light gray shirt, and lavender tie made him look more gorgeous than ever. He was pink around his lips as if my stubble had rasped his sensitive skin, and the sight made my dick press harder against my zipper. Shit. He’d be sexy in an oil-stained coverall, but like this, he was magnificent.

Swallowing hard, I leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m takin’ you out on a date,” I said.

“Out?” he squeaked.

His surprise wasn’t unexpected. We’d spent lots of time together these last weeks, but all of it had been in either of our apartments. Mostly in his home, where we’d cooked, cuddled on the couch in front of a movie, or made love for hours and hours. We’d never gone anywhere outside our building together. That was changing tonight. “Yeah,” I answered simply.

“Okay.” His eyes were full of questions, but as usual, he didn’t ask them. Instead, he grabbed his keys and followed me to my car. Patient. Wating for me to be ready to tell him at my own speed. He really was fucking perfect.

Except for early in the morning before coffee. He was a terrible grump before coffee.

We drove in silence, but I could feel his eyes on me the entire ride. He rested his hand on my thigh and drew small circles with his fingers. Occasionally, he squeezed. At a traffic light, I put my hand over his as we waited for it to turn green. That simple touch made my entire body buzz with electricity.

When I pulled up in front of the restaurant—Nonna Giulia’s because his favorite food was Italian—he gasped and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the valet.

He didn’t say a word until I’d handed over the keys and we were alone. “What are we doing here?” he asked in a faint voice full of worry.

“Havin’ dinner.” I smiled at him, hoping it looked confident. I felt confident. Sort of. If my dry mouth didn’t count.

“But…” He stepped closer and spoke close to my ear as if he wanted to make sure no one could hear what he said. “They serve…alcohol here.”

I brushed a speck of dust from his lapel and made sure his tie was straight. “I know.”


I stopped fiddling and took his hands in mine. Looked him straight in the eye. “I want to take you out on a real date. Like normal people do on Valentine’s day. I wanna be someone you can be proud of.” My voice quavered, but I kept going. “I have Ella on speed dial and she’d only let me go if I promised to call her if the shit hits the fan.” I squeezed his hands quickly before I let them go and fished out my phone. After pulling up Ella’s message I gave it to him so he could read it.

His gaze flitted between my phone and my face before he stuffed it back into my pocket. “I’d be perfectly fine to have our date at home.” He tugged on my hand as if he wanted to lead me away from the restaurant. “Please, let’s go home.” He pulled harder.

“Julius.” My pleading tone stilled his movements and I slid my hand around his neck. Standing so close our noses almost touched, I spoke in a hushed voice. “You have no idea how much I appreciate you lookin’ out for me.” My other hand found its way under his jacket and I rested it on his slim waist. “How fuckin’ lucky I feel that you wanna be with me. You mean so much to me. I don’t wanna be a stupid coward and risk losin’ you. I need to get over my issues…and not just for you, but…for me?”

I hoped he’d get it. Heck, I don’t even know if I did, but Ella had drilled into my thick skull that I needed to do this for myself and not for someone else. My talk of how gorgeous my boyfriend was hadn’t swayed her one bit.

He nodded and a cautious smile spread on his narrow face. We stood so close I could see a smudge on his glasses. A happy sparkle in his eyes. “I have conditions,” he said.

“Name them.”

He held up an index finger. “One. I don’t drink.”

I chuckled. “Only you would set rules for yourself.”

His smile widened. “Shut up.” He smacked a kiss on my lips. “Number two.” He held up another finger and his face grew serious. “You tell me the second you feel anxious and we’re out of here.”

I pulled back my hand from his waist and rubbed my droopy eyelid. Of course, he’d understood completely. How could I have thought otherwise? “Yeah, okay.” Tears burned in my throat and I had to swallow to keep them from erupting. “Anything else?”

He pulled me close, flush to his body, until we touched from chest to knees. “One more thing.”

“Anything, Julius. I’d do anythin’ for you.”

“I want a kiss before dinner.”

I happily obliged.


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Until a couple hours ago, I thought there wouldn’t be a #SuperShort this Friday either. I’ve had a terrible week; my dad has been very sick and spent several nights in the ICU. For a while, I thought I’d have to jump on a plane and fly to Sweden and see him, in case he wouldn’t…you know. I’ve been so worried and unable to focus on anything. But now he’s actually feeling better and will most likely be released from the hospital this weekend, and suddenly my mind started working again.

So here it is. A little later than usual – to be honest it’s actually Saturday here in Malaysia (it’s a few minutes after midnight) – but better late than never, right?

I’ve used the words that was left to me in the comments two weeks ago: cherry – cupcake – poppycock – bloodshed, and written part 3 of Alan and Jon’s story.

Here are parts 1 and 2 if you need to get up to speed.

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With gentle fingers, I plucked the rose from his hand. “You brought me a flower?”

His cheeks grew even redder and took on the color of cherries. “Um, yeah?”

“Thank you.” I smiled at him, I could practically feel myself beaming like the sun. “It’s beautiful!”

He stepped into the house. “You, uh, like it?”

I nodded eagerly. “No one’s ever bought me flowers before.” I shut the door behind him and led him into the kitchen. I gestured for him to sit at the breakfast bar as I rummaged through my cupboards for something to put the flower in. Finally, I chose a tall glass and after pouring some water into it, I put it on the counter. “I thought we could have a cup of tea. And cheesecake.”

“Oh man,” he groaned.

“You don’t like cheesecake?”

“I love cheesecake. But I had cupcakes for lunch, so I’m gonna have to run double my usual distance tomorrow or I’ll get fat.” He patted his stomach that was flat and enticing and so far from fat it wasn’t funny.

That’s what you’ve been doing before strutting around half naked outside, driving me crazy?” I blurted out and Jon burst out laughing. A booming sound that filled my kitchen with loud happiness.

Shit shit shit, did I just say that? I flipped the switch on the tea kettle and tried to act as if I wasn’t the biggest idiot on earth, but my cheeks flamed hotter than the sun.

“Sooooo, I drive you crazy?” He waggled his eyebrows, crossed his hands behind his neck and leaned backward. His shirt slipped up a little and revealed just a sliver of skin, but it was enough to make my throat dry up. His cocky grin from that morning made a comeback.

I covered my eyes with my hand, not trusting myself to stop staring at him unless I made it impossible to look. “Cupcakes for lunch, huh?” I asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject. “What’s the occasion?” I removed the hand and straightened.

He took mercy on me and backed off the teasing. “One of my coworkers had a baby. She came to the office to show him off today and she brought cupcakes with baby-blue icing.”

“How very gender normative of her.” I poured the hot water into the cups, put them on the breakfast bar, and stepped over to the fridge to retrieve the cheesecake.

“If you ask me, that kind of stuff a load of poppycock.”

I looked over the fridge door with a raised eyebrow. “Poppycock? Really? I would have pegged you more for a ‘crap’ kind of guy.” I added a smile to show him I was joking.

“That should teach you to stereotype people.” He returned my smile. “Besides, I like the sound of the word.”

After putting everything out and helping him pick a tea, I joined him. “Was it a cute baby?” I groaned internally. Why had I asked that? As if I cared about a baby I would probably never meet.

Jon shrugged. “Eh, it was a baby. But the way the women fawned over him, you’d think he was the new Messiah or something.” He blew on his cup before taking a small sip. A content hum slipped out and he drank some more.

“Yeah, women tend to do that.” Seriously, Alan George White, change the subject already. Stop talking about babies! But my brain refused to cooperate; it was probably too overwhelmed by being in the same room as Jon the Hot Neighbor.

I snuck a glance at him. Damn, he was fine, even fully clothed. His shirt didn’t leave much to the imagination, but maybe that was because I’d seen him without it so many times? I wanted to reach out and touch him. Run my hand over his chest and down his stomach and—

“You’re right about that. For a moment, I feared for the little guy. I was seriously afraid they’d start clawing each other’s eyes out over whose turn it was to hold him next. I’m thinking the boss wouldn’t have been too happy over the bloodshed.”

Huh? What was he talking about? Oh right. “Why are we still talking about babies, Jon?” My voice was hoarse and told the story about where my mind had been.

He put down his cup and inched his stool closer to me. “I don’t know.” I couldn’t take my eyes off his hand resting on the countertop. He had long, thick fingers with tufts of hair on the knuckles. I bet those hands would feel glorious as they explored my body.

“Are your mind in the gutter again?” His amusement was obvious, but it didn’t feel like he was teasing me.


“I’ve never met anyone with such an expressive face as yours. You must have been terrible at keeping secrets when you were a kid.”

“You have no idea.” Hesitantly, I reached out my hand and rested my fingers on top of his. He was warm and his skin was softer than it looked.

Jon moved even closer. “You’re too cute for your own good.”

“And you’re hot.” Seriously. Someone needed to duct tape my mouth shut.

He turned his hand over and entwined our fingers. “I’m glad you think so.” He took a deep breath. “Does that mean you wanna go on another date with me?”

My gaze flew to his face. His eyes were earnest, but his mouth was set in an uncertain smile. The juxtaposition of the cockiness and the nervousness he displayed fascinated me. I would have thought that it would be one or the other, but he was a lovely mixture of both.

“I’d love to,” I answered.

He smiled at me, and we picked up our mugs and drank our tea in a companionable silence. When my cup was empty, I rested my head on his shoulder. “You’re nothing like I thought you’d be,” I murmured.

“Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“It’s a very good thing.”

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Next week, I’m doing things a little differently. The #SuperShort will be posted on Wednesday – Valentine’s Day – instead of Friday and it won’t feature Alan and Jon, but a couple other guys you’ll recognize if you’re a frequent visitor to my blog. But if you’re really lucky, Alan and Jon might come back. No promises though 🙂

Happy weekend everyone.


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This week, I’m using the words my dear friend Addison gave me in the comments two weeks back for my flash fiction story:

reprehensible – mirror – floppy – branch – glory

And I’m also continuing the story of Alan and Jon, the guys from last week’s flashfic. When we left them, Jon had invited himself to Alan later that evening for a cup of coffee. Curious about what happens next? 😁

Read the first part of their story here.

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Coffee Date with My Hot Neighbor

I’ll be over at seven.

My hot neighbor’s—Jon, his name was Jon—words from this morning rattled around in my brain as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror trying my best to tame my blond, floppy bangs. I dipped my finger in the wax and applied a little more and for a second it looked as if it was going to stay where I wanted it, but then it crashed down over my eye again. I sighed. That would have to be good enough, it seemed.

My stomach clenched, and I frowned. What had Jon meant, exactly, when he’d said he was coming over for coffee? Had he meant for us to actually have a cup of black death tar with a side of conversation? As in a date? Where I had to ask him about his favorite color and most importantly: remember to talk? Or had coffee been a metaphor for something else? I tapped my lower lip with my index finger, and grimaced at the taste of hair wax. Maybe something less innocent? Something involving me bent over my couch, with his thick…tree branch stuffed deep in my glory hole?

“Holy smokes, Batman,” I muttered and shook my head. This was not going to end well. If I couldn’t stop perving over his body parts—weird, un-sexy nicknames and all—for more than five seconds, I was definitely going to be guilty of that reprehensible immoral behavior all gays displayed according to my less than accepting family.

The thought of my parents definitely took care of my over-eager libido and risked scaring my…tree branch—seriously what was wrong with my brain?—into hiding for a long time. Maybe forever.

I shook off the ickiness and gave myself a final inspection, rising on my toes to be able to take in my appearance in the bathroom mirror. A pair of shorts showing off my runner’s legs and a polo shirt making the blue of my eyes pop was nice enough to be dating clothes if that’s what this was, but not too nice if their purpose was to be ripped off me as soon as the door closed behind Jon.

I couldn’t decide which option I hoped for. He was hotter than Death Valley, and I’d spent a considerable amount of time perving on him. But in general, I wasn’t Mr. Hook-Up. Usually, I preferred to actually getting to know a person before jumping into bed with them.

Heaving out a sigh so deep the air expelled from my lungs made my bangs flutter, I turned my back to the mirror and walked out to the kitchen.

Everything was already prepared for his arrival. I’d filled the kettle with water, put out my favorite mugs, and a few different kinds of tea to choose from. A glance around the kitchen confirmed it was spotless, but I brushed some invisible crumbs off the counter anyway. Then I turned my nervous energy to the tea tins and nudged them until they stood in a straight line. One of the lids had a smudge and I rubbed at it with my thumb until it was gone. I twisted a couple of them, making sure the name of the tea would be visible and easy to read.

A loud beep and vibration sounded behind me and I jumped, jerked my arm, and accidentally hit a tin with a flapping hand. It tumbled over the edge of the counter, clanked down on the floor, and made my heart shoot up in my throat. The tin rolled a little before stopping, and the silence that followed the sudden commotion thundered in my ears.


I sank down to the floor and pressed a palm to my chest as if to contain my heart that slammed furiously against my ribcage. At least if I had a heart attack—caused by a message on my freaking cell phone—I wouldn’t have to worry about seeing Jon and wondering if tonight was a date or not.

Maybe I should have said no when he invited himself over? I really wasn’t made for casual encounters or flings with hot neighbors. How had I not remembered that about myself? Had I been so busy drooling over his lightly furred chest and the alluring V of his hips that I’d forgotten who I was? Checking him out behind the curtain had just been an innocent morning thing. I’d never meant for him to find out. Or for anything to come of it.

My heart found its normal rhythm, and I reached for the fallen tin before jumping to my feet. I needed to tell him. I’d invite him in, offer him tea and the cheesecake I’d bought on my way home from work, but if he wanted something else, something involving the two of us naked, I would decline. I’d probably regret it for the rest of my life, but so be it.

And just like that, all the nervousness evaporated, and I could breathe again.

As I put the tea tin back next to the others on the counter, the doorbell rang. A quick peek at my watch told me he was right on time. Calmly, I strode through my house and opened the door.

Unlike this morning, he was wearing a shirt, and his cocky grin was nowhere to be seen. “Hi,” he said with a cautious, shaky smile. His eyes shone with uncertainty.

“Hi!” I smiled back at him, hoping to set him at ease. Funny how I seemed to be the calm one. What a difference a few seconds made. Opening the door wide, I stepped to the side. “Please, come in.”

He bounced on his toes and caught his lower lip between his teeth. Was he nervous?

“Um, I…” Redness stained his cheeks as he pulled his hand from behind his back where he’d kept it hidden. “I brought you this,” he said and held out the gift to me.

It was a single, long-stemmed, pink rose.

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All right. Hit me with a few more words…and if you’re really lucky (and choose nice, easy words) you might get to read more about Alan and Jon next week! 😊




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Last week, I asked for words for this weeks Flash Fiction story, and I got five of them in the comments of my post: reprehensible, mirror, floppy, branch, glory. Thing is, life got in the way of plans and threw an unexpected trip to Singapore my way. I was away Tuesday to Thursday and was too busy enjoying myself to come up with something. And when I remembered, I wanted to make it easy for myself, so scrolled through the pictures I’ve saved on my phone that I’ve seen and thought Huh, I could write something about that. And I ended up using one of those.

So I’ll keep the words. I’ve got no trips planned for next week, and will have more time to think about them and come up with something.


I didn’t bring my computer to Singapore so I had to start writing the story the old fashioned way: with paper and pen. With a view over Singapore from the 53rd floor, it was easy to get distracted, but I managed to finish it eventually. I hope you enjoy.

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Spying on My Hot Neighbor

It was five minutes past eight and I stood at my usual post by my kitchen window, holding a cup of steaming tea with my eyes trained on my neighbor’s porch. Halfway hidden behind the curtains, I felt like the nosy elderly woman who used to live next to my parents when I was a kid. I’d always found her kind of creepy and wondered if she’d thought we couldn’t see her behind her sheer old-lady curtains.

And still. Here I was, doing the same thing. Spying on my neighbor.

In my defense, he was hot. Set-fire-to-my-briefs kind of hot.

I sipped my tea as I glanced at my watch. Eight-oh-seven. Any second now. I took a tiny step to the side, so the fabric wouldn’t block my view too much. Tilted my head. Held my breath.

The seconds slowed down to a crawl. Dragged out to infinity. My lungs started burning but I didn’t take a breath. I just stood there, as still as if I’d been cut out of a slab of marble.

Until his door was thrown open and he burst out onto his porch. My breath whooshed out of me and I felt lightheaded, but I couldn’t tell if it was because of a lack of oxygen or if it was the sight of him that made me woozy.

With a cup of something steaming in his hand—I bet it was coffee, he looked like a guy who’d drink the black death tar—and hair still damp from a shower, he gazed up in the sky, scrunching up his face at the summer sun shining brightly down on him. But his cute face wasn’t what caught my attention. It was his strong arms and his chest that only wore a dusting of light brown hair and nothing else. His abs. And the V of his hips that pointed to…

I swallowed. His shorts hung even lower today than yesterday and the day before that. How did they even stay up? Was he trying to drive me crazy?

As I watched him drink from his cup and scratch his chest, I squeezed my thighs together and moaned. My jeans were growing uncomfortably tight as blood rushed from my head to…my other head. I pulled the curtain more to the side, eager to drink in all of him.

He must have seen the movement because he looked up. Right at me. A cocky grin spread across his face, and he winked.

I scrambled backward, away from the window. Hot tea sloshed out of my mug and splattered on the top of my feet. “Ouch, dammit!” I slammed down the cup on the counter and wiped off my feet on the back of my calves as I stumbled out of the kitchen, barely avoiding tripping over myself. I didn’t stop until I was hidden in the relative darkness in the hallway.

My heart thundered in my chest and heat rushed to my face until it was so hot I feared it would melt. Shit, shit, shit. That wasn’t supposed to happen. The plan was to stay out of sight and keep watching him unnoticed for as long as I could. At least for the rest of the summer, or as long as the no-shirt weather lingered. My favorite morning routine was forever screwed because I got too careless.

“That’s that. You know what happens to greedy boys,” I mumbled. I drew a deep breath and heaved out a sigh. Closed my eyes and shook out my hands, trying to even my breathing and calm my racing heart. But just as I’d gotten myself under control, someone knocked on my door.

I jumped and yelped. It was the most undignified sound I’d ever produced in my entire life.

It had to be him, right? He was here to read me the riot act, or even worse: punch me in the face for perving on him. Should I hide? Pretend I hadn’t heard him? Try to sneak out through a window on the back of the house? Emigrate to Canada?

Another knock sounded, followed by a cheerful, “Open up, I know you’re in there.”

“Shit.” I was screwed. All that was left for me to do was to take responsibility for being a creep. I squared my shoulders and looked down at my semi. Glared at it. “You’re not helping,” I muttered.

Great. Now I was talking to my genitals, too.

With a couple quick steps, I was by the door and only hesitated for a second before opening it. “Listen, man, I’m…” My voice trailed off and for the life of me, I couldn’t remember what I was going to say. He leaned a strong shoulder against the post on my porch, his legs crossed at the ankles, and he looked relaxed. No angry scowl in sight.

“Well, hello,” he said and waggled his eyebrows.

I breathed a little easier. Clearly, he wasn’t angry at least. “Um…hi?”

“Nice to finally see you without the curtain.”

My eyes widened. “You’ve seen me before?” I squeaked and resisted the urge to smack my forehead. Good job exposing myself! God help me if someone ever put me on the witness stand.

My neighbor chuckled. “Mhm.” He let his gaze sweep over my body and a tingle raced up my spine. Blue. His eyes were blue. Like cornflowers. Or cerulean. Or azure. Or— “You’re not as stealthy as you seem to think.” His amused voice saved my overheated mind from having to come up with more blue nuances to fit his eyes.

“Shit.” I hid behind my hand for a second before looking at him. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to freak you out, but you’re ridiculously hot.”

As soon as the words spilled out of me I gulped. Oh-em-gee! I can’t believe I just said that. Was it possible to die of mortification? Moving to Canada grew more appealing by the second.

But he just laughed. A loud, hearty sound that made his chest heave and his stomach ripple. Deep laugh lines appeared around his eyes and his teeth were straight and perfect. Shit. He was even more gorgeous up close. I wanted to fall on my knees and bury my face in the fur on his stomach. Run my fingers across his abs and lick him along his hip bone, down to his—


“Huh?” I forced myself to look at more appropriate parts of his body.

“That’s my name. Jon. What’s yours?”


He laughed again, straightened, and took a couple steps closer. Right into my personal space. “What’s your name?” He grabbed my chin with his thumb and index finger. His fingers were thick. Strong. With a smile, he brushed his thumb over my stubbly skin.

His question finally registered in my brain. “I’m Alan.” My voice was raspy as if someone had vigorously rubbed sandpaper over my vocal chords.

“Nice to meet you, Alan,” he whispered.

“Uh-huh.” My eloquence knew no bounds this morning.

“Listen.” He took another step closer and his body heat wound itself around me. “I have to go to work, but are you busy tonight?”


Another step and his naked stomach touched mine. Why had I put on a stupid T-shirt when I got out of bed?

“Because if you aren’t, you’re gonna invite me over for coffee.”

“I am?” I shivered.

He nodded. “Sevenish?”

I nodded.

He leaned in and for a moment I thought, hoped, he was going to kiss me. But he just put his mouth next to my ear and whispered, “See you tonight, Alan.” Then he stepped back, winked at me, and jumped off my porch.

Not until he was halfway across the street, I remembered something. “Jon!”

He turned to me but continued walking backward. “Yeah?”

“I only drink tea.”

“I don’t care.” He burst out laughing. “I’ll be over at seven.” He gave me a quick wave before jogging the rest of the way to his house.

I glanced at my watch. Eight thirty-two. Ten and a half hours until I’d see him again. A smile bloomed on my face and my skin tingled.


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Inspirational image found on Instagram.