The more days passed with us hiding in my condo, the slimmer the chances for anyone to find us were.

In reality, no one knew where we were.

Brian had the genius idea to write down each day of our stay in the condo. According to the paper pinned with a magnet to the fridge door, it was the fifth day of the new year.

We had been in here since Boxing Day. Food was becoming an issue, but we had started to portion everything a couple of days ago.

Since we had no phone or radio or TV, we had no idea what was going on outside.

Brian spent his days at the window, staring at the sky.

I wasn’t one to judge, because if that kept him sane, I wasn’t going to stop him.

I occupied my time with filling my sketchpad with various drawings.

Our relationship hadn’t been more solid than it was now. We discovered many things about each other, that had never come up during the early stages of our relationship.

On the eleventh day of January, I knew I fucked up when I accepted the pistachios from Brian. Less than half an hour later, all the tale-tell signs of a bad allergy attack kicked in.

I had stopped taking my meds two days into our stay here. We hadn’t packed them. No wonder, I felt like I was dying.

I sneezed and blew my nose for the hundred time in the past five minutes, trying not to focus on how I felt my throat closing in. What I needed was an epi pen and my prescribed drugs. What I would get…a cool place six feet under.

“Try to sleep. I’ll be right back,” Brian said as he bounded down the stairs dressed for outside. He had his beanie tugged low on his forehead.

“Don’t.” I could barely hear my voice.

The panic attack that hit me the second the door closed behind Brian triggered my allergy attack. I focused on my breathing, crawling to the window to open it and try to breathe in the cool air from outside. It didn’t work.

My heart hammered against my ribcage with every ragged breath I took.

I wanted to cry in terror, but also laugh at the irony. Here I was sure the homophobes were going to kill us, when I was going to die because of my own stupidity.

I was vaguely aware of someone next to me and a pinch in my leg, before I succumbed to the blackness.

When I blinked awake, I was amazed to still be alive.

I was in bed, and Brian was crouched by my side, gripping my hand. His terrified eyes searched mine, before he blew a sigh in relief.

“Fucking Christ, Justin. You scared the living shit out of me.”

“I’m a moron. Thank you.” I squeezed his hand.

“I got your Zyrtec.”

“Did you use my prescription?”

Brian grimaced. “I took the gun with me…just in case. I threated the pharmacist to give me all the Zyrtec she had and five epi pens. I also bought three tubes of lube.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re something else.”

“Thank you,” he said, amused, pressing his tongue in his cheek.

“I need to eat something. I feel faint.”

“I made you a sandwich. Don’t move.” Brian hurried downstairs, and I stared after him, amazed at the lengths he had gone to make sure I was safe.

He had literally saved my life.

Brian returned a few minutes later with a plate of sandwiches and a bottle of whiskey. We ate and drank on top of my bed, contemplating what was actually going on and whether or not the Feds were making any progress in catching this group.

“I can always go into the wild and bring you food, dear,” he joked, leaning against the pillows and lighting himself a smoke.

“I still can’t believe you threatened someone with a gun.”

“Anything to make sure you’re alright.” He offered me his cigarette, taking a gulp from the bottle. “I’ve been thinking…we have to send Ben a message. No one knows we are here.”

“I’ve been telling you this for days. But how?”

“Beats me.” Brian accepted back his cigarette, staring at the ceiling. “We need a cell phone.”

“We aren’t going to buy a phone. It can be traced.”

“We will use it just once.”

I lounged on the bed, resting my head on his lap. His fingers combed through my hair as he looked lost in thought.

“There’s another option. You won’t like it.”

“Try me,” I mumbled.

“We steal a car and return to DC.”

“Do you have a death wish?”

“It’s been three weeks since we left, Justin. I trust the FBI had found and decimated this group by now. Their only problem is that they have no clue where we are.”

I sat up, turning to stare at him excited, feeling hope for the first time in weeks. Ben had my phone chipped. We were saved.

“What,” he deadpanned.

“How rational can Ben think in such critical situations?” I asked slowly.

“He’s a SEAL, Justin. Where are you getting with this?” Brian lifted a brow.

“My tracking device.”

Brian stared at me as if I had grown another head. “Did you miss the part where I threw your phone out of the car?”

I fell back on the bed, covering my face with my hands. I felt utterly stupid. “You’re right.”

Brian placed the bottle next to the empty plate, and stubbed the cigarette in the ashtray. “Come on, I didn’t start my career as a robber so we won’t use the lube.”

I laughed, because only Brian could lift my mood with such silly declarations.

He handed me the blue bottle, then undressed and lay on his stomach in the middle of my bed.

I stared at his glorious ass for a few long moments. It made him look over his shoulder, lifting a brow.

“Do you need a special invitation? I want to know all about Painter Boy, The Mighty Top.”

I couldn’t believe this was happening. This was another first my bed would experience.

“We have to donate this bed to a museum,” I voiced my thoughts, as I started to massage his hole slowly. “It has seen a lot of our firsts.”

Brian snorted into the pillow, but lifted his ass, silently encouraging me to keep pushing my fingers into him.

I took my time in prepping him, because I had no idea when he had last bottomed, if that had ever happened. The thought of being the only want to top him made my heart swell.

“Has anyone been here before?” I asked when I had two fingers up his ass. He was so tight, I was going to last all but two seconds.

“Even I started from the bottom,” he huffed, flopping around to face me. “But only once. I knew it wasn’t for me.”

I stared at him with wide eyes. “So, you’re practically a virgin.”

“Just like you were when we met.”

I rolled my eyes, leaning between his legs to kiss him. “Let me know if I hurt you. I’ll try to be gentle.”

“I’m not going to break,” he promised.

I kept our eyes locked when I pushed into him for the first time. It was pure bliss. I had never felt a tighter and hotter ass around my dick. It took all my willpower to stall my movements when Brian winced.

He brought my head closer, kissing me slowly, which was all the encouragement I needed to continue. He gasped softly when I was deep inside him.

Then we started a torturously slow pace, which had us sweaty in a matter of minutes.

I wasn’t sure I had been so close to anyone else. It felt like we were exchanging something sacred, and I rejoiced that Brian didn’t demand a faster pace.

When I spilled into his ass, sooner than I wanted our lovemaking to end, Brian flipped me around, already pouring lube on my hole. It didn’t take him long to find completion.

We lay across my bed, breathing harshly for a while.

“You’re decent.”

I glanced at him, stifling a smile. I slapped the back of my hand over his abdomen. “Brian…”

“You need practice.”

I stared at him, as my amusement grew. I couldn’t believe he was hinting at me topping again. I had gone into our previous round without expecting an encore.

“Really?” I managed to ask, when he kept his hazel eyes on me for so long I forgot how to breathe.

“Don’t sound so surprised. You had an amazing teacher in me.”

I rolled my eyes, turning to stare at the ceiling, trying to contain my boisterous smile.

#

According to the calendar Brian kept religiously, we were day seventeen in January.

He was standing at the windows in the living room with his hands linked behind his back. I kept myself entertained with sketching him in that position.

“I’ve been watching this nondescript blue sedan for a while now,” he said, spinning on his heel.

I stopped shading his arm, looking at him, confused.

He pointed out the window. “There’s a blue Toyota Corolla across the street. No one has been near it since we arrived here. We’re leaving tonight.”

My stomach tightened, because in our little bubble, it was easy to forget there were people out there who wanted us dead.

“Grand theft auto?” I joked.

Brian came to kneel at my feet. “I’d fucking kill to know you are safe.”

His words chocked me up. “But we are safe here!”

“Justin, we’re almost out of food. The whole country probably thinks I’m dead in a ditch.”

“You want to return to the White House?” I took his hand, playing with his fingers.

“It’s the best shot we got. Face it. No one will find us here.” He stood, walking up the stairs.

“Where are you going?” I hurried after him.

“We’re packing our bag and we wait for nightfall.”

It took us a couple of hours to have our clothes and some food stuffed into the duffle bag. The cash was once again stuck in socks and at the bottom of the bag.

We had a light late lunch of what was left in the refrigerator.

The idea of taking that car and heading to DC terrified me more than our trip coming here.

We were currently sitting on the couch, sharing a cigarette. My eyes were on the wood file and the gun sitting on the coffee table. Our bag was by the stairs, ready to be picked so we could leave.

The sun was setting, and my nerves made me so jumpy than when I heard noises on our floor landing outside the door, I made a sound I wasn’t proud of.

Brian stroked the back of my head where he was keeping a hand.

At the sound of keys jiggling and several voices right on the other side of my door, I shot up.

Brian grabbed the gun, cocked it, and pointed at the door, stepping in front of me.

“I told you, he hasn’t been here since he moved in with President Kinney.” That was my mother’s voice.

I clutched at Brian's elbow, trying to relax him.

“Ma’am, step aside,” a deep voice ordered.

“Shit,” Brian spat under his breath, keeping the gun pointed at the opening door.

Two SWAT team members appeared into the condo, followed by several men in suits. They were definitely Secret Services or FBI or CIA.

They all drew their guns. “On the ground.”

It took me a moment to understand why they considered us the bad guys. We had out beanies on and our faces weren’t visible in the darkening room.

Brian lifted his hands, then made to take off his hat with his free hand. His gesture ensured chaos. One of the guys tackled him to the ground, and my heart stopped when I heard a gunshot.

Brian grunted, shoving the agent off him, then he stood up with the beanie in his hand.

“Took your sweet time, boys.”

The agent was still on my floor, but he slowly got up, holding his bleeding shoulder. I couldn’t believe Brian shot someone.

My mom came inside when she heard Brian's voice, but one of the suits held her.

“Your code, sir. It’s procedure.” The man kept his eyes on Brian.

“I’ve still got my pride.”

The man motioned for everyone to drop their weapons, and he allowed Mom to come to us.

I hugged her tightly, crying into her shoulder. Brian kept a hand on my back, but soon he joined the leader of the group.

“I had no idea you were here! You didn’t say anything,” Mom wailed. “I was so scared, Justin.”

“It’s a long story, but this was the only place we could go…” I pulled away enough to brush my tears. “How did they think we might be here?”

“I don’t know. They didn’t tell me. Marty, the man Brian is talking to, came over earlier demanding the key to your condo. I had to come with them.”

“We have to go. I’m sorry to cut this short, Jennifer,” Brian said, joining us.

“Of course. I expect a call as soon as everything is under control,” she demanded.

“Yes, Mom.” I hugged her once more, before I took Brian's hand.

I noticed one of the SWAT team member had our duffle bag. We were escorted outside to a black sedan. The bag was stowed into the trunk, and after Brian and I were in the backseat, Marty and his colleague got in the front seats.

“Will the agent I shot be okay?” Brian asked after a while.

“He’ll survive. Reed is mortified for not recognizing you, sir,” Marty said over his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to shoot him. He grabbed my hand and I squeezed the trigger.” Brian shook his head, before closing his eyes and leaning back in the seat.

I intertwined our fingers between us, and he clutched tightly at my hand.

I became aware of Marty talking in the phone. “I got them, Ben. They’re safe. We’re headed to the airport.” A lot of noncommittal sounds followed, before Marty turned to us, offering Brian the phone.

I elbowed Brian, making him aware his attention was needed. He accepted the phone, leaning into the window.

“Hey, Ben…Yes, I’m safe. Yes, so is Justin.” He grimaced at whatever Ben told him. “Can we postpone this shit? Tomorrow morning sounds fabulous. I owe you.” Brian handed me the phone.

I took it, surprised Ben wanted to hear I was okay from myself. “Hi,” I said, unsure.

“Baby, I was so fucking scared!” Hearing Emmett's voice was everything I needed to hear and I had no idea why. He was my closest friend, second to Daphne. “How are you?”

“Hey, Emmett. I’m okay. I have no idea what happened in the world in the past couple of weeks…but we were safe.”

“Ben was just over here to let me know that everyone was still trying to find you.”

“Where are you? Home in Pittsburgh?”

“Actually…I’m at the house Brian bought for you two in DC. I’m here with Michael.”

“We will see you soon. Look, we’re close to the airport.”