Page 13 of Embers Glow After the Fire

“I just supervised.”

“What are we drinking Robs?” Matthew perches on a stool and leans against the kitchen island, propped on his elbow.

“Cosmos,” he beams.

“Mmm, —throwbacks.” Matthew cheers, clapping his hands.

Dennis is painting his famous barbeque sauce over chicken breasts and cubed potatoes, arranging them on a silver prep tray. “Is the grill on?” he asks Robbie.

“Yes, babe.” The bartender pours pink fluid into a display of martini flutes, garnishing each with curls of orange peel.

Perry appears from the hall. “Did I hear Cosmos?” with bright eyes.

“You sure did.” Robbie passes him a flute.

Brendon gathers Matthew’s and his own, passing one off and settling on the stool next to him. The first sip goes down too smoothly.

Dennis’ dinner spread of barbeque chicken and vegetables is a hit at the table. Robbie replenishes everyone’s Cosmos three times over, by the time they've finished eating.

The sun sets past the mountain range at the horizon, transforming the ultraviolet sky into a dark cloak of glittering stars.

Eli lounges on the wrap-around sectional that frames the stone fireplace, chatting with Jamie and Nathan while petting Rosy, who's sprawled on his belly. The little gray cat savors the attention.

Perry and Dennis sip their drinks, unmoved from the patio dining table and talking about how their businesses are doing.

The cabin interior glows under strategically arranged track lights in the vaulted ceiling.

Robbie, Matthew, Phoenix, and Brendon decide on a game of pool, shifting to chilled cans of hard cider from the fridge.

Phoenix insists on starting the game. Throwing his arm in the air, flashing his entire torso under the tiny tank. The balls crack and scatter all around the dark green felt, bouncing off the table’s walls and each other but none in a pocket.

Brendon steps up for his turn after they settle. He studies the pattern, connecting the dots in his mind to map for his first play. Jerking the pool stick in his palm.

“Oh, Brendo,” Robbie drawls, sitting on the back of the sofa with a devious grin across his cheeks. He nods at the motion of his stroke.

Brendon laughs and flashes a beguiling wink at his boss.

Phoenix leans on the table, close enough to breathe on his ear. An attempt to thwart his game?

Brendon’s focus doesn't waver. “Twinks have no power here.” He peers at the flirt through the edges of his eyes, dropping a final hint that he’s not interested.

Phoenix jerks back, stung but not completely deterred.

The balls crack again as he drives the stick forward, aiming for a double shot. One drops in while the other hangs at the rim of its intended pocket, shorting the call-out.

Robbie steps up next and Matthew follows after three masterful turns. He hovers over the table, planning his move.

Brendon can’t help but stare at freckled cheeks under the glow of the stained glass chandelier. He watches Matthew lean over the opposite corner of the table. Thick spotted arms challenging the fabric of taut sleeves. A pale pink crystal dangles from his neck, drawing eyes inside his drooping silk shirt, offering a peek at cayenne fur-coated mounds. The pool stick glides through his looped index finger in a provocative motion. Those fingers felt like magic yesterday. His body is warmed by the booze but ignited by salacious thoughts. He licks his lips—

—and the balls crack. Matthew huffs “Yes.” As both his call-out targets fall into their planned pockets.

“Oh, double penetration,” with a suggestive tone, Brendon shoots a smoldering stare. His flirt game is piqued by liquid courage.

Matthew’s eyes linger on his cheerleader as if his mind is picking up telepathic messages passed through Brendon’s gaze. He returns the smolder with a flirty grin, sticking out his tongue and biting down.

Phoenix has thrown in the towel for today, having watched his hairstylist and holiday crush eye-fuck each other for the past few hours. He’s perched on the back of the couch, next to Robbie, twirling Eli’s auburn hair in his fingers. Intoxicating the sweet boy with attention.

Brendon slips a hand under his shirt and rubs his belly. He’s sure he caught Matthew chewing his lip and gawking.

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