It was close to three in the morning when we passed a sign near Raccoon Creek State Park stating we were three miles away from crossing into West Virginia.

After drinking the shitty coffee Brian had bought in the gas station, we had to stop for a piss. Brian joked about how he was doing everything he had ever wanted to do when he dreamed of becoming a rebel. We had disappeared in the middle of the night with no word, we had withdrawn more cash than anyone knew what to do with, we were fugitives, we had been chased by the police, and we just pissed in the woods.

“Fuck me,” he groaned, moving his hands to grip the steering wheel better. He had kept a relaxed hold onto it until now.

I checked the windscreen to see what earned that reaction, and I knew our fun trip was coming to a crashing end.

There were several cruisers blocking the whole road, checking every car passing.

“How abrupt is the off-road?” Brian craned his neck to look through my window.

“This might be a Jeep, but you’re not an off-road driver. I’m fucking scared too, Brian. Besides, these guys surely know about what Ben told us.”

He huffed. “If I don’t make the news about another shot president, I’ll make the news about the president who got arrested for resisting the police.”

“Don’t even joke about being killed,” I snapped. “Just go through with it.” I nodded to the officer waving our car closer.

Brian snatched the beanie off his head, stopping next to the policeman. As Brian rolled down his window, the man flashed his light into our faces.

It was hilarious how he dropped the flashlight, his wide eyes staring at Brian. Then he looked at me, then back at Brian.

“Sir,” he said in a shaky voice.

“Good morning. Are we allowed to pass through?” Brian held his sarcasm as much as possible.

“I’m afraid…I know the situation.” The officer waved one of his colleagues to check the car coming from behind us.

I stopped paying attention to what Brian and the cop were discussing, because the car behind us looked exactly like the one I had seen on the opposite lane when we had stopped to piss in the forest.

They parked too far behind us, and I could hear the engine being revved.

“Brian, start the car,” I shouted when I saw the car behind accelerating toward us.

Brian shot me a look of pure fright, before he glanced in the rearview mirror. He swerved off the road, and the other car went full speed into the barrier of cruisers. They caught fire instantly, and our tires caught dirt as Brian pressed the acceleration to escape the mess.

I froze when I heard gunshots behind us, then metal grazing metal.

“Keep your head down,” Brian instructed. He finally managed to get the car back on the road, speeding away from the burning cars and the lone person shooting at us.

“Relax. We’re okay. I need your eyes on the road,” Brian insisted.

I could feel my whole body shaking, as I managed to look around. My mirror was shattered.

I turned to look at Brian, to make sure he was unscathed. His narrowed eyes were on the dark road and his fingers gripped the steering wheel as if his life depended on it.

“That’s what the police officer was telling me. We can’t go to the house. There was an explosion in the area not long ago. Someone knew about my very private residence.”

“Oh, God. What are we going to do?” I asked in a surprisingly steady voice.

“I have only one idea.” He met my eyes, and I knew my fear was reflected in his. “Did your mom manage to sell your condo?”

“No. I still have some old paintings in there. She deposited them there after the gallery downtown closed.” No one would expect to find us there. And I was certain that this group of homophobes didn’t know where I used to live. “I don’t have the keys anymore, though.”

“That’s the least of our worries. We have to ditch this car.”

We stayed quiet, until I realized we were headed to the house in West Virginia, the one which had blown up according to the cop. Smoke was visible from miles away.

“Trust me,” Brian said softly, when he parked away from the many fire trucks and police cars.

“What are you doing,” I demanded.

“Just wait for me here.”

“Are you going to steal a cruiser?” I insisted, unsure about Brian's new ambition to be a bad boy.

He laughed quietly. “Now, that’s an idea. Just trust me, and wait here.” He leaned over to kiss my brow. “Get all the cash out of the glove compartment. There’s some under your seat, too.”

While I was busy doing as told, I kept stealing glances out the windows. The duffle bag became really heavy.

I held the bag against my chest, watching as one of the firemen was staring at our car curiously. It would be a matter of time before he alerted the cops around.

I wished Brian would hurry in whatever he was doing.

I jumped out of my skin when a sports car zoomed down the alley leading from the house. Everyone jumped out of the way, before they started chasing it on foot.

I lowered in the passenger seat, trying not to vomit or faint at how scared I was.

Was that one of the bad guys?

Tired screeched near the Jeep, and I clutched the bag tighter in my arms.

“Get in, Painter Boy,” Brian shouted, honking loudly.

My body was on autopilot, as I spilled out of the Jeep and ran on jelly legs to the Corvette. I threw the bag in the small place behind our seats, while Brian revved the engine.

To my astonishment, he leaned out the window, waving to the policemen running toward us.

“Later, boys,” he said, amused, before flooring the acceleration.

I was propelled into my seat, and hurried to put on my seatbelt.

“What the fuck are we doing?” I groaned.

“Trying to save our asses.” He adjusted the rearview mirror. “Yeah, you can try catching me in that old piece of shit cruiser.” Brian shifted the gear, making the speed needle lean dangerously in the right side. I didn’t dare to focus on how fast we were going.

It took us less than twenty minutes to return to Pittsburgh with his hectic driving. The engine protested loudly when Brian slowed to a decent fifty miles per hour.

“Know of any small but good hardware store?” he asked casually.

“Yeah. There’s one around the corner from where I live…lived.”

“You’ll have to guide me,” he said at the first red light.

“Or I could drive,” I offered. “You must be tired.”

“We’re almost there. Just tell me left of right, so we can get to your condo before dawn.”

“So…this car…” I tried distracting him.

Brian chuckled. “I was wondering when you’d comment on my pride and glory. You know I never get to drive myself, but whenever I escaped to the house in West Virginia, I took advantage of the empty roads in the area and took the ‘vette for a spin.”

“It’s a cool car. I had no idea you loved speed.”

“Justin, if I were behind the wheel all the time, I’d get in a shit load of trouble with my security for leaving them in a cloud of exhaust smoke.”

I laughed, and it felt good to dissipate some of the tension. The heavy cloud looming above us was bearable as long as we had each other.

At the hardware store, Brian slung the duffle bag over his shoulder, taking my hand, and leading the way inside the store. The owner was an old man, who I knew from my previous trips when emergencies like a new light bulb, batteries for my mouse, a broken faucet sent me in search of a good hardware store.

The man didn’t recognize me, thankfully. He eyed us warily, but it was because of the black beanies covering our foreheads and half of our eyes.

Brian filled the hand cart with necessities, though I couldn’t understand why he needed a wood file, hammer, and a box of paperclips.

After we paid with cash, Brian pulled me into the closest 24/7, where we ransacked the shelves. The clerk asked us amused if the apocalypse was coming and he didn’t know.

We were sorting through the bags when a loud explosion came from outside. The glass doors shattered.

Brian dropped the bags he was holding, staring at the parking lot. I followed his direction, and I shouldn’t have been surprised to see his car carbonized.

“Hurry,” I hissed, snatching the bags he had dropped, when I heard the store clerk calling 911.

While everyone was running in the direction of the explosion, we were going the other way. Thankfully, the front door of my old building was open, and we took the stairs two at a time.

“Now what?” I stopped in front of my door.

Brian wheezed out through gritted teeth. “We’re breaking into your condo.” He pulled out the wood file and hammer.

I kept watch so we wouldn’t be discovered by any of my former neighbors, but everyone was distracted by the explosion at the corner of the street probably.

“It’s time for a career change. I’ll be an amazing thief,” Brian preened, opening the door ten minutes after he had set to work.

Once we were inside the condo, with all the locks turned, I slumped on the stairs, gripping my hair.

The sense of faux security gave me hope that we would be okay, but after all the attempts on our lives in the past five hours, I had no idea what to expect.

“I want to know for how long have you known about these threats,” I mumbled.

“A while.” Brian sat next to me, wrapping his arms around me.

“Brian,” I insisted.

“From the day after I was declared the winner. At first, it looked like empty threats. The reason why I insisted to take you away to Aspen was to give Ben time to focus on finding these people.”

“Instead, we almost did these homophobes a favor and put ourselves out.”

“Instead, we got trapped in Aspen, which was counterproductive to giving Ben time to find these people,” Brian said gently. “I hope they took everyone home safely.”

I hugged myself, rocking slowly. “What if you step down?”

“They win. And chances are, they’ll still kill me when I’m living my mundane life.”

“This is not normal,” I shouted, gripping my hair. “For fuck’s sake! We are in the twenty-first century. So what if you’re queer? So what if the next president is a woman? We had a black president. No one tried to kill him.”

“Justin, calm down. We have to be quiet and make it look like we aren’t here.”

“I can’t be quiet. You said you wanted a go at these guys. You’ll have to beat me to it.” I started pacing, but I could feel my body crashing. The adrenaline of our trip was wearing off, and I was going into shock.

“Let’s take a shower, relax.”

I allowed Brian to take me upstairs, and under the hot spray, we both held each other for so long the water turned cold.

Brian upped the heat while I went to look through the duffle bag for what clothes he and Ben had packed.

“Did you even put any of my clothes in here?” I protested.

“Of course. Just dump the whole thing on the floor. Ben was already working on the bag when I went to our room,” Brian explained.

I turned the bag upside down. Along with money stored in socks by me, our clothes, our toothbrushes, something else fell from the bag. I stared at the handgun in shock.

Brian picked it off the floor, turning it around to check the chamber.

The reality of what our lives had become left me woozy.

After I stepped into a pair of boxers, I sat on the couch, staring out the window. I tried not to think of anything, but it was difficult to shut off my brain.

Brian lounged on the couch with his head on my lap. He lit himself a cigarette, smoking slowly, keeping his eyes closed.

“Are you tired?” I asked, stroking my fingers through his hair.

“I don’t think I can sleep.” He offered me the cigarette butt, and I accepted the calming effect of the nicotine. “What about you?”

“Same.” I rested my head against the back of the couch. “How long do you suppose it will take for them to be caught?”

“Hopefully before we run out of food.”

“Shit. The food.” I slipped from under him and took the frozen products to the freezer.

Brian joined me with the bags holding the fruits and vegetables, storing them into the fridge.

“It’s a good thing you still have power and running water.”

Once we were done putting everything away, I went to hug him. The walls were closing in, and not even familiar smell of my condo made me feel any better.

“Distract me.”

Brian tilted my head with a finger under my chin. “I wasn’t sure you wanted that. I figured sex was the last thing on your mind.”

“If these are my last minutes with you, I’d rather spend them on your dick.”

“Why are you such a twat?” Brian pulled me upstairs, stopping at the foot of the bed. “We’re going to survive. I won’t allowed anyone to hurt you.”

I cupped his cheeks between my palms, and kissing him deeply. Brian lowered me on the bed, his fingers tugging at the waistband of my boxers.

“Fuck. Condoms.” Brian pulled away, staring at me anxiously.

“We’re clean. We got tested before our trip to Aspen.”

“I’ve never. . .” Brian winced, sitting on his haunches. “Not without protection.”

“Brian, stop overanalyzing, and fuck me.”

After taking my underwear off, Brian started stroking my dick slowly. Somehow, he was still gloriously naked after our shower.

I admired every inch of perfection that was his body. I lifted one leg, bending it at the knee. “Bring some hand cream. I saw you packed that.”

“Maybe it’s my downfall. I can’t believe I didn’t think to pack lube and condoms. Or buy any from the store.”

Brian hurried down the stairs to retrieve the hand cream.

I kept stroking myself to keep unwanted thoughts from filling my brain.

Brian flipped me on my stomach, going for the gold. “Remember our first time? You thought you were a Top.”

“I am,” I retorted into the pillow. “I was…until I met you,” I averted, when he spanked me loudly.

“Somehow, I don’t believe you.”

“Care if I demonstrate?” I rolled around, trying to push him against the mattress. But I had somehow forgotten he was a pack of muscles.

“I’m intrigued. I might allow you only out of curiosity, but after I had my fill of your delectable ass.” Brian leaned closer to kiss me.

I was too shocked the kiss him back for a few moments. “I love you,” I declared against his lips.

I felt him smiling against my throat as he moved to pepper kisses down my neck and shoulder. Brian took longer to prep me, but it was our first time doing it raw. This bed had seen at lot of our firsts. It definitely belonged into a museum, stating that was the bed where the first ever homosexual president had fucked the man who later became his husband. Hopefully, it wouldn’t become the bed where said president and his husband were found dead.

“Let me know if it hurts,” Brian whispered, shifting lower on the bed.

I groaned at feeling the wet tip of his dick touching my hole for the first time. I arched my back when he breached past the entrance. Brian clutched at the thigh of the leg I had thrown over his shoulder, while the other hand was firmly glued to my hip. His lips parted and his eyes closed the more he slid inside me.

“Fuck,” he gasped when he was seated deep. Then he started moving, I forgot about being quiet or that our lives were on the line.

Brian tried to keep me quiet by kissing me while moving urgently inside me, taking me to new highs.

I had no idea it could feel so good. The difference a slim latex barrier could make was unthinkable.

If we survived this, we weren’t going back to condoms if I had a say.