I was sixteen, going on seventeen, as the song goes, and he was indeed seventeen, going on eighteen. His parents were away for the weekend. He barely lasted twenty seconds once I got on top of him.

Still, he tried.

He wanted to get me off, and his hands were slow and clumsy and tentative.

Finally I realized that if I wanted anything out of the situation, I needed to take charge.

Suddenly, everything worked. It was still him doing things, his fingers, his hands, his kisses, but all the directions I gave paid off.

Two months later he signed up for military service. That had been our only opportunity to be alone and safe for any length of time.

We haven't talked since he went to basic training.

The night after he left, I had a dream of fire. One of my worst, still memorable over five years later. One of the few where I wasn't alone, but he and I were very quickly separated by smoke and lost track of one another. I could hear him running, hear him calling, but he wasn't calling to me, which was confusing and depressing. I didn't know who he might have been calling out to.

All this came to mind because, stretched out on Manu's couch, topless and tired, eyes closed, phone sitting face-down on my chest, I started to dream.

It wasn't me running through the fire. It was him. Blonde and blue-eyed and thin and strong, like the last time I'd seen him, three days before leaving for boot camp.

I was watching from the sky, flying above it all, while my naked first lover made a frantic dash forward. He was always ahead of it. I flew along, I don't think he knew I was there.

The smoke built up, carried by a supernatural wind, and soon I lost sight of him.

I kept in front of the heat and the smoke, flying as quickly as I could, waiting, almost straining to hear the music in the flames.

It was there. Deep in the thrum and pop of the burning forest. The music I hadn't heard, hadn't remembered hearing in Manu's living room, that I had shut off on hearing the first few chords in my own little dorm. It was there, and I could hear it.

Lines appeared out of the smoke, sketches and swirls and drawing. Images and text, flowing together and apart, sensible and not. Parts of my life melding and joining and dividing and vanishing.

A figure emerged from the flame, but it wasn't my first lover, not anymore.

It was Manu.

He bolted forward, into a clearing, and I was behind him somehow, and I didn't understand, but it was a dream, it didn't have to be understandable. He stood between me and the fire as the music swelled around us. He seemed unafraid.

And that's when a soft kiss on my lips woke me.

My eyes opened to see Manu looking back down at me.

"Nice way to wake up," I said, keeping my gaze on his eyes.

"Nice thing to find on my couch," he replied, his hand drifting over my arm.

"'Thing'?" I teased.

"Not my best choice of words, I guess. But I'm not a poet." He smiled. I smiled. "Why is your shirt on the kitchen table?"

"Wanted to make sure it didn't stain," I replied. "It's drying."

"Makes sense."

He was kneeling next to the couch, in a soft blue bathrobe. His dark hair was still damp and plastered to his head, almost helmet-like. His robe left his chest exposed, which gave me a chance to put my hand lightly on the bare mostly-dry skin below his neck.

He purred a bit, and I felt the sound vibrate through my fingers. "I definitely needed to change my shorts after all that. Well, before all that."

"How long was I asleep?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Ten minutes? I didn't take too long to shower, just wanted to make sure I was clean. Didn't want to keep you waiting."

"You didn't, obviously. You could have taken an hour, if you wanted."

"I also didn't want to spend too much time away from you."

I giggled. "You're sweet."

He leaned closer, pressing on my hand. "I mean it." His voice was warm. "It's probably dumb and probably way too fast but I haven't felt like this in ages. If ever."

I raised an eyebrow.

"I could tell you all about the chemical reactions and the biological responses and all that, it's what I've studied, but the reality is..." he hesitated.

I waited, curious.

"... your poetry is absolutely enrapturing, and the way you speak when you say it just melts my heart."

I closed my eyes, smiling, feeling the fire inside me. The dream. Manu standing defensively between me and the consuming flames. Somehow the fire I felt and the fire I feared were different, but also similar.

"Your voice changes, somehow," he continued. "It's so pure, and deep, and comfortable. Not that your voice is uncomfortable, normally, but it's a ... hm, a very... uh..."

"Human?" The word came to my mind and just slipped out.

"Yeah, that's a good way to describe it. You're just a person, a confident person, a scared person, a nervous person, a hurt person, a tired person... but when you're a poet you're something more. Still human, but, human-with-an-'also,' if that makes any sense."

"It doesn't," I said, "and also it does."

"I don't usually jump into... well, anything. Any of this, to be sure, but anything ever. The courage I had to work up to just walk towards you, let alone intend to talk to you, was a lot for me, but I didn't want to waste a night."

Still with eyes closed, still listening, still pressing my fingers against his chest, I nodded.

"And then there was Zeyla, and your phone number, and you suggested lunch, and you asked to come here with me..." He sighed. I felt it, as well as heard it. "I'm a scientist. I don't believe in the meant-to-be stuff."

"And yet," I said.

"Yeah."
His damp skin curled under my fingers
His warm breath caressed my ears
His strong body rested on my hand
His heart—

I stopped there.

He was trembling.

I could feel heat in my hand, passing into his body.

"How do you do that?" he asked. His voice was shaky, half-whispered, weak.

Still staring into darkness, I gave the only answer I could. "I don't know."

We remained there, still, for a moment.
He waited on my voice
His darkness enveloped me
He took me in his arms
His mind studied me
He carried me to his bed
His body delighted me
He lay under my weight
His soul worshipped me

There was no more hesitation. My eyes were still closed, and he lifted me from the couch. I didn't expect him to be strong enough to carry me, but he did. I felt his robe fall off as we went, and wanted the same for my pants and shorts, but I knew that was on its way.

There was no hurry, no rush at all, no urgency, just a sense of inevitability. We could have been travelling all the way back to my dorm, and he would happily have done so on foot, completely naked, carrying me the whole way. It could have been twenty below, dead of winter, frostbite weather. Didn't matter, the fire inside would keep us warm.

He put me down, sitting, on the side of the bed. My eyes hadn't opened. I hadn't seen his bedroom at all, but I felt the presence of a dresser, bigger than my own; soft curtains over the window blocking out only part of the afternoon sun; a desk with a variety of computer peripherals set up as a workspace and dock for his laptop; a few tasteful pictures on the walls, not family photos, just works of art.

He raised my feet and slid my pants and boxers off, then started kissing at my ankles. Devotion burned in every touch, and fed my own fire within.

To save myself from fire with fire, came to mind, my own words, and that's what I wanted to do.

A finger under his chin brought him to his feet. That finger trailed down his chest and over his very hard member. He stood as perfectly stiff and at attention as his cock as my finger traced its path.

I stood. Eyes still closed, hands on his hips, I turned around with him and waited for him to lie down. My voice came to me as I straddled him, my hands crawling up his body as I recited.
I took his fire inside mine
And there within me burned
His body pressed into my spirit
My soul within me turned

Lowering myself onto him was glory. His hands took to my hips, holding me as I straightened. This wasn't something outside me, this was my fire, my creativity, and he was burning with it as much as I was. We started to move together, guided by licks of heat and smoke running along our limbs, but I felt him joining into the dance, not leading it. There was nothing but us, in and of flame, fucking and fucking, and when the fire exploded within us both together I fell down on him, feeling him still inside me, feeling his warmth and comfort surrounding me as his arms slid up over my back.

But what I had seen, behind closed eyes, was very different.

My napping dream had continued into a daydream, a fantasy. Manu, naked, between me and the fire. Saving myself from fire with fire as the two of us burned together, and the fire rushed closer, and hand in hand, slowly at first, we had walked away, moved away. But I could still hear the burning voices in the forest, and they still came closer and closer behind us, and as we started to run, not with fear but with joy, I was still aware of those voices, calling, singing, and there was a haunting familiarity in the darkness of my mind:

I would never get away from the flames.

I could run for weeks, months, years, decades, the rest of my life, and they would always be behind me, and if I stumbled far enough, they would absolutely overtake me.

And as I lay on top of my lover, our fires ebbing and fading, the fantasy slipping from me in tandem with his gentle kisses, I was only too aware that the fire within me and the fire from beyond me were two different blazes, and one was so, so much bigger than the other.

My lover.

In less that twenty four hours, we had gone from complete strangers to lovers. The man cuddling me, gently kissing my face, lying underneath me, had heard far too much of my life story for me to think of him as just a hookup, especially given our 'mad science' moment and the dream and fantasy I'd had.

"That was... something," Manu said, still holding me close.

"Uh huh," I breathed back.

"I've never had anyone recite poetry during sex." He paused. "I like it."

"I've honestly never done it before. I like it too."

"We'll do it again?"

I kissed his chin. "I hope so. And soon." I sat up and climbed off to lie beside him. "Not right now, though, I'm kind of worn out."

"Yeah, I get it." He chuckled, propping himself up on his side. "This is definitely not how I expected today to go."

I stared up at the ceiling. "Me neither. No complaints, though."

"None from me." He seemed about to say something more, and hesitated, so I waited, and was rewarded for it. "We... uh... there's nothing to worry about, yeah?"

I knew what he was asking. "I haven't been with anyone since last time I peed in a cup, and I've got an IUD in."

He nodded. "Yeah, uh, me too. Clean, I mean, not an IUD."

"That would be very surprising."

We laughed together.

"Okay, yeah, things we should probably have discussed first." He smiled, running a hand over my chest. "I'm a little out of practice"

"Doesn't seem that way to me," I said honestly, enjoying his touch.

"With the whole 'picking people up in the bar' thing."

"Ah, yeah."

"I do have protection."

"Me too. In my purse. Doesn't do me a heck of a lot of good there."

"Is this an awkward and stupid conversation to have in bed after incredible sex?"

I nodded. "Awkward, anyway," I replied with a grin. "Don't know about stupid. Probably a good idea to make sure you're not gonna pick something up."

"Yeah." His hand was stroking my hip, and his arm was across my body, and I was happy.

We lay like that for a few minutes, just being warm and close and together, but also naked and messy and so very human given the sort of supernatural weirdness I'd been subject to.

My stomach growled. "Dinner?" I asked.

He let me go, and the close-body-contact sweat between us instantly made my belly cold. "Mhmm. You did insist that I invite you out. And we were supposed to go after my shower." He kissed my cheek. "Let's get cleaned up?"

"Yeah, I think I have to borrow your shower. And your soap and stuff."

"Didn't pack a day bag?"

I bapped him lightly on the shoulder. "I wasn't expecting... well, yeah, any of this. Besides, it's kind of presumptuous to show up to a first date—"

"Second."

"—or a second date, with a bunch of toiletries."

"You know, fair," he said, turning to sit on the edge of the bed with his back to me. I rolled over and walked my fingers up his back, spider-like. "Mmm, you know, you keep that up and we won't get to supper."

"Oh, no, I'm not missing a chance to eat now," I replied. "I was hungry before all that, and then..."

"Haha, point taken." The gorgeous man stood up and out of my reach. "Uh, I already showered, so I'll just be a moment or two to clean up, are you—"

I flopped back on the bed luxuriously. "Go. I'll shower after you're done. And I can help you clean the sheets if you need."

He laughed and left the room, and I got to watch his ass as he went. I sighed and enjoyed the warmth of the place he'd been lying. The warmth surrounded me, holding me close, comforting me. I laughed in my mind. I was two weeks ahead of schedule on my plan to get laid by the end of the month, and it was despite all the weird things going on. In fact, it might have been because of all the weird things going on.

I wasn't sure of how I really felt about that, so I ignored it.

Music in my mind made it clear that I had dropped into at least a partial sleep. Halfway in a dream, the warmth of the bed and the sheet I'd pulled up over myself reminded me of a campfire, soft and comfortable.

"No," I whispered into my own mind's darkness. "No more fire."

I was tired of fire, but I didn't know how to put it out.

The music in my head pulsed and bounced, familiar and unfamiliar, as if to say, 'well, if you don't want fire, then you can have this, instead.'

I forced my eyes open. Manu was standing in the doorway of his room looking at me.

"I was debating waking you," he said. "You looked cute."

"I wasn't really asleep." I stretched, pushing the sheet back and revealing my chest, and the music faded away. "And anyway, I'm hungry enough that another nap wouldn't last long."

He offered me a hand up, which I took, and we were suddenly standing naked next to one another. I brought his hand to my lips gently, almost formally. He brushed my hair with his hand, rubbing my scalp almost randomly.

"I want to get cleaned up and eat," I said, not moving.

He took his hand off my head and instead put it on my shoulder, and very gently guided me from the room and into the bathroom.

"'H' for hot, 'C' for cold," he said unhelpfully as he guided me into the shower. There wasn't a tub, just a slanted section of the room with a drain and a tile floor, marked off with a filmy curtain, and of course a pair of taps and a shower head.

"Uh, this is gonna sound weird..."

"Oh, this is gonna sound weird?"

I laughed. "But... do you mind... could you leave the room while I shower?"

"Of course," he said, and didn't even wait for an explanation before he slipped out of the bathroom and closed the door, leaving me to my cool shower and my thoughts. Hunger bent those thoughts toward dinner, and discomfort bent them towards cleanliness, and I didn't want to keep Manu waiting.

The shower helped me in that last goal by being a whole lot less comfortable than the stalls at the dorm. There was more room, for sure, but less of the spray bounced back, and the lighting wasn't as good, and... well, the reality was it just wasn't what I was familiar with. I was certain that it would be fine if I ever got used to it, and the thought of getting used to it was kind of exciting.

Manu had left a clean towel nicely rolled up for me on the toilet, and I wrapped up in it after drying off. The man had good taste in towels. I remembered his bathrobe, that was nice, too. And not that it was hard for me to find a towel that would wrap me up nicely, but his towel did so and then some.

Another mark in his favour, I thought. Good linen choices. The bed had been decidedly comfy, too.

He was clothed when I walked into the bedroom, sitting on the bed and looking at his phone. He had laid out my clothes on the neatly-made bed, nicely spread in the opposite order in which I had removed them. He stood up as I came in.

"Should I leave so you can get dressed?" he asked.

In response, I just dropped the towel on the floor, put my hands on his shoulders, and kissed him slow and deep, hoping that my message was clear. I then turned and picked up my underwear and put it on.

"I guess no."

"Yeah, I'm good," I said as I pulled up my pants.

"Shall we go to dinner?"

I nodded. "Mhmm, no more delays. Time to eat."