To Catch a Firefly

by Emmy Sanders

Heart to cock. Love to lust.

“Fuck. Yes, that’s perfect, baby. Feel good?”

With the moon lending its soft glow through the window, Lucky falls asleep. And I learn what it is to cradle a firefly in my palms.

I find the coffee exactly where I expect to: in the kitchen.

The sky is blue.

“You’re going to stretch me with one finger,” Lucky says, spreading his legs wide. “And then two. And then three because you’re a decently big fucker.” I huff, Lucky’s grin letting me know that’s a good thing. “And then you’re going to fuck me, El. Don’t overthink it, okay? It’ll be good.” I nod swiftly, opening a packet of lube. Lucky pulls one leg up, folding his body in a way I’m not sure I could manage.