ON FIRE FOR HIM

Open Flames

Reese almost turned back twice, the drive to Mac’s house felt like crossing a border into a country Reese wasn’t sure he had a visa for.

Kansas Falls was different at night, the Texas heat turned into a cool breeze, and the further he got from the center of town, the more he felt too anxious to continue his journey.

Gravel crunched beneath Reese’s tires as he pulled into the driveway of a house that sat isolated, at a hilltop.

There were no chrome-heavy bikes outside, or noise from blasting electric music. Just a single porch light, and Reese was kinda surprised.

Before Reese could let the second thoughts he was having settle back into his bones, the front door swung open.

It was Macs, he wore a fitted navy blue tee that stretched across his chest and simple sweatpants. His hair was still damp, a few dark strands sticking to his forehead.

He looked less like a henchman and more like an ordinary person, except for his dashing beauty that could stop anybody who crossed his path.

“You’re late,” Macs said, his voice was a low rumble, and he rubbed the stubble on his jaw, almost nervously as he opened the door widely for Reese to walk in.

“It’s 9:02, Macs. Relax,” Reese said, though his own heart was trying to kick its way out of his chest.

Macs smirked, as he walked past him. “Still late.”

The scent hit Reese immediately, leather, cedar, and the faint, smell of cinnamon that just made everything feel different.

The house was shockingly not a biker den, it was instead filled with dark wood, minimalist furniture, and a massive bookshelf that took up an entire wall of his living room.

“You read?” Reese asked, his fingers itching to touch the spines of the books.

He suddenly felt interested. Literature was his world, he hadn’t expected to find a library in the house of a man who was in a motorcycle gang.

“I told you,” Macs said, his voice dropping as he locked the door behind them, the click of the bolt sounded final.

“I like being the odd one in the room. Why would I want to live in chaos when I already spend my days drowning in it?”

“That’s odd, coming from a guy like you” Reese said, still inspecting the bookshelf.

“Maybe” Macs said and Reese just stood in front of the shelf, staring at all the books as if registering them in his head one after the other.

“So…” Reese started, his voice a little breathy.

“Is this the tragic French film night? Or were you just looking for an excuse to get me alone?” he asked plainly.

Macs walked towards him and stepped into his space. At six foot five”, he loomed over Reese who was six foot one, pretty impressive himself but not as impressive as Macs.

His hand came up slowly, his fingers slightly touching Reese’s blonde curls before settling against the nape of his neck.

“I don’t want to watch a screen tonight,” Macs whispered.

Reese’s pulse spiked. “What do you want, then?”

Macs didn’t answer with words. He leaned down, his mouth finding Reese’s in a kiss that wasn't rushed or aggressive. It was slow, and if Reese didn’t know better, shy. They played with each other’s lips for a while before they broke the kiss and looked into each other's eyes.

Mac's gaze soon travelled back to Reese’s mouth and he kissed him again, this time more confidently, with one hand on his nape and the other on his lower back.

Reese melted, in Mac’s arms. His hands found the solid, warm expanse of Mac’s chest, feeling the steady thud of a heartbeat that was much faster than his calm exterior suggested.

They stumbled toward the couch, laughing softly against each other’s lips as the tension of the last few days dissolved into teasing heat.

Reese carefully took off Mac’s shirt and ran his hands through his well-defined muscles. Macs did the same and trailed kisses along his chest, and neck before returning for a more heated kiss on his lips.

Reese pulled back just an inch, his eyes were a mix of lust and something more vulnerable.

“Still think I’m just a distraction, Macs?”

Macs’s jaw tightened, his sea-green eyes staring intensely at Reese’s face like he was trying to memorize every line.

“No.”

He kissed him again, deeper this time, his hands sliding down to Reese’s waist, pulling him closer against him. They moved to the bedroom in a blur, after a long walk on the corridor filled with kissing and caressing.

Reese stayed on too, and straddled his thighs, kissing and licking on every part of his defined muscles, he took one of Mac’s n*****s in his mouth and he heard him groan between gritted teeth.

THUD!! THUD!! THUD!!

Three violent pounds on the front door, Macs went rigid, and Reese stayed fixed where he was on top of him.

“Macs!” a voice barked, it was Tank.

Macs’s face drained of color, he was quiet for a while before he looked at Reese, and Reese saw fear in his eyes.

“s**t!!!” Macs said under his breath. “Hide, in the bathroom or something” Macs said, and Reese blinked, coldness seeping into his veins.

“What? Macs, no” he said with disbelief on his face.

“In the bathroom. Now.” Macs said and Reese knew this wasn't a request.

Reese felt a pang of humiliation, like he was back to being sixteen and sneaking around with boys, hiding from his parents.

He scrambled off the bed, put his shirt on with trembling hands, and went into the bathroom.

He listened through the slit in the bathroom door as Macs adjusted his clothes, wiped his face, and walked to open the front door.

“Tank,” Macs said, his voice flat and dangerous.

“What do you want?”

Reese stayed pressed against the door, his heart hammering against his ribs, but he wanted to hear every word.

“What’s the bartender's car doing in your driveway, Macs?” Silence followed.

“I’m questioning him about some missing inventory,” Macs said. “He sees things at the Tavern. What’s it to you?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Tank snorted. “I saw him leave, I followed him and I know he didn't come here to talk shop, Macs” He said confidently, and Reese was sure there was a snug smile on that rough face of his.

“You’re reaching, Tank. Get off my porch.” Macs said, faking to be irritated.

“You’ll find out soon enough what I’m reaching for,” Tank said, an amused chuckle following his words.

“Just checking on the future boss, see you at the clubhouse.” He said, Macs shut the door.

Macs stood there for a long time, and his hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists. Reese stepped out of the hallway, feeling small and discarded.

“Hide?” Reese asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Macs didn’t look at him. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

“Excuse me?” Reese snapped, his anger boiling into rage. “We were just… and you told me to hide like I’m some dirty secret. Like I’m a mistake, what was that even supposed to mean? You invited me here”

Macs finally turned, and the frustration on his face was obvious.

“I’m in a gang, Reese! One of the most powerful in the region. I’m Catholic to the bone, I’m the heir to my family’s legacy, and I’m gay. I cannot let anyone know this, do you have any idea what they would do to me? To you?”

“It’s not so complicated to me,” Reese countered, stepping closer.“You either want this, or you don’t. You either stand up for yourself, or you live a lie.”

Macs let out a bitter, hollow laugh.

“You know nothing about this. I don’t get to live a happy little life where I don’t hide who I am from the world, I don't get the luxury of being ‘brave.’”

‘Happy little life’ the phrase felt like a slap to Reese’s face, he thought of the phone call that morning. He thought of his mother’s cold voice telling him he wasn't welcome home, and he thought of being an exile in his own family.

“You think I don’t hide?” Reese asked, his voice shaking.

“You think my life is some easy, sunlit path? My own family won't even look at me, Macs. We are not so different, the only difference is I’m not a coward about it.” He said in rage.

Macs ran a hand through his damp hair, looking exhausted. “This is different, my life ends in a box if this gets out.”

“Then maybe you’re already dead,” Reese said, stepping back toward the door.

Macs reached for him, but his hand stopped mid-air, he looked at his hand and dropped it to his side.

“Next time, don’t invite someone over to your house,” Reese said, his hand on the doorknob.

He walked out, shutting the door softly.

Macs stood in the center of his quiet living room, staring at the spot where Reese walked through and left his house. His phone buzzed on the coffee table, and it was an unknown number.

A video file, definitely from Tank, his heart sank.

Macs pressed play, the footage was clear.

It showed Reese pulling into the driveway, Mac opening the door, it was the look on Mac’s own face that killed him, the wide, unguarded, helpless grin he’d given Reese.

A second message followed:

“Told you, you’ll find out soon. Nice smile, Boss.”

Macs felt a cold chill throughout his body. Reese just walked away, completely unaware that he was now the most dangerous thing in Mac’s world.