Two Souls: Into the Fire # 281


Two Souls: Into the Fire # 281

Warning…adult content



# 281

warning…adult content


As Ghost got into the warm shower, Steve moved over a bit, to let Ghost stand under the streaming water. Ghost had closed his eyes, letting it wash over him, easing his tiredness from traveling.

Squeezing out some shampoo into his hands, Steve massaged it into Ghost’s hair. He could feel himself getting turned on. Taking soap, now, he gently lathered Ghost’s body, while Ghost stood there enjoying the feeling of his own arousal, and moaning softly. While soap bubbles cascaded from them both, Steve put his lips on Ghost’s, who in turn, kissed him back, with a fierce passion.

Afterward, breathing hard, they both faced each other, sated and exhausted. Steve reached over, shutting off the water, then got a towel. He gently dried Ghost’s hair, face, and body. He could tell Ghost was half asleep as he stood there.

After they were both dry, they went into Ghost’s bedroom and collapsed on the bed. They would sleep uninterrupted by dreams or nightmares, the whole night through.


As dawn broke the darkness of night, Ghost opened his eyes. He smiled. He was looking straight into Spirit’s eyes. The cat was purring, as he rubbed his face on Ghost’s cheek. “Mmm,” Ghost stretched and yawned. He saw that Steve was still sound asleep. 

“C’mon, cat,” he whispered. They left the bed, headed for the kitchen. Ghost started the water boiling for coffee. They’d still not gotten an automatic coffee maker. Grabbing the opened can of cat food, he filled Spirit’s bowl. Waiting, still, for the water, he opened the back door. The breeze was refreshing, as it blew gently through the screen door, and had the slight smell of the ocean, carried all the way to Missing Mile.

Noticing the water was now boiling, he poured it into the drip-o-later’s top container. “When I get my coffee, we’ll go outside in the swing,” he told Spirit. Wondering if Steve was awake, he went to check on him. He wasn’t, so he took a small blanket from the bed, made a stop in the bathroom, then went to pour his coffee. They had no fresh cream, so he put extra sugar in it. “We gotta go to the store,” he said. “Let’s go out, Spirit.

Unlocking the front door he padded barefoot onto the old wooden porch. He’d forgotten to put his knee socks on, but at some point, he realized he just didn’t care any more. The sun was trying to rise above the pine trees, but so far had just tinged the sky with pinks and oranges.

He felt like writing about the beauty of it, but had left his journal inside. “Oh well, I’ll do it later.” He sat down sideways on the porch swing, holding the hot coffee cup in his hands to warm them. It hadn’t reached full summer yet, so the air was a bit cool coming off the mountains, in conflict with the warm ocean breeze. He wrapped the blanket closer around his naked body.

Spirit frolicked around in the grass of the front yard, leaping at a moth that was still around this morning. After awhile, he heard Steve moving around inside. Ghost could follow his every move, just by listening to the sounds Steve made. He could also hear Steve’s thoughts, and when he talked aloud to himself.

There…he was clinking around the cups in the cabinet, looking for his favorite one. “Where the hell is it,” Steve muttered. Ghost grinned, as he noticed he, himself had Steve’s favorite cup; it was the large, blue one, with a chip on the rim. He heard him pour coffee, and take a sip, then cuss, because it was so hot…like he always did.

He heard Steve wonder where he was, so he sent him a nudge…I’m out front… He knew Steve received the short message, because he felt Steve pause for a second, listening. Then, the screen door creaked open.

“There you are,” Steve said. “Scootch over” he said, as he tried to sit in the swing. Then, he saw it. “What the hell? You got my cup.”

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t notice,” Ghost said.

Sighing, Steve looked out over the front yard. A fog was forming around the lower branches of the trees. “We’re home.” He glanced over at Ghost. The blanket Ghost had had wrapped around himself had slipped down a bit, showing the whole left side of Ghost’s body.

“You gonna be naked all day?” Steve asked, and grinned.

“Maybe,” Ghost said, not bothering to adjust the blanket. He drank the last of his coffee, set the cup down on the porch, then leaned back against the pillow, there on the swing. He now had his feet resting on Steve’s lap, the blanket barely covering anything.

This was as blatant an invitation as Steve had ever seen from Ghost. He looked up into Ghost’s eyes, and knew that Ghost knew exactly what he was doing…and doing to him.

“Here?” Steve asked. Ghost nodded.



Next part coming soon!


Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️

© 2018 BS


This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.

All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative license is taken in including them in this story.

No harm is intended toward author, musicians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblance.

warning      warning      warning      warning

The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s