by G. Li
It was different in the city now, burnt out and twisted in on itself, magnified exponentially since the grid had blown, everything charged one way or the other, positive, negative. Neutral spots popped up here and there, but they were unpredictable, and Michael knew they'd been lucky. No one escaped unharmed, no matter what the newsprint said.
He rubbed his eyes and listened to the soft sounds of Eli breathing, the wind whispering through cracks in the cabin, scenting the air green and wet and smoky. The last time they'd come up here the pump had frozen and they'd had to leave with dirty dishes still stacked in the sink, but that morning had been perfect, Eli naked and sweaty and twisted in these same sheets, his mouth open, his dick hard and hot between them, time standing still as he came, thick spurts Michael bent his head to taste before Eli rolled over, his arms stretched wide and his ass in the air, sunrise painting his pale skin.
Michael could smell the dawn coming like he couldn't then, could taste it in the air, gold and pink and burning honey, Eli stirring beside him, pulling him close. Michael sifted his fingers through the fine down that covered Eli's body now, beautiful, thick and feathery over his spine, and Eli shivered warmly, kissed his way up Michael's throat.
Everything was different now, as changed as the city, but Michael thought they'd be safe here, safe enough to see this through.