F.A.

HEAT

Jeremy stretched one trembling foot over the edge of the bathtub and dipped his big toe into the hot water. He jerked it back for a moment, groaning with pain, then gently eased his whole foot into the tub. The water came halfway up his calf, and he stood that way for a few minutes, one foot in, one foot out, before bringing his legs together. He took a few steps forward and back to get used to the temperature. Then slowly, he lowered himself, one arm behind him in the water for balance, until he was sitting on the floor of the tub. The water crept up over his thighs to his waist, making him sigh with the warmth. He shivered once, shaking off the chill in his back and shoulders, then lay down so only his face and knees were above water.

Reaching out with his foot, he turned on the hot tap again and let it flow undiluted into the already cooling bath.

Heat. Oh, the heat. The glorious wet heat flowing beneath and above and around him. It was so very agreeable, so close to ecstasy that he was tempted to stay forever, remain always, eternally adrift in this pool of molten pleasure. If only the water heater were inexhaustible and the cheap plastic lining of the tub did not cool off so fast.

But right now it was gloriously hot. And Jeremy slid under, folding his legs until they were almost submerged, pulling his head down into the warmth. He opened his eyes and gazed up through the water, into the darkness of the bathroom--bathing with the light off was so much more soothing, sensual--and tilted his head to one side, then the other, opened his mouth, relaxed the pressure inside his nose, let the heat fill him up and seek its own level inside his ears and mouth and nasal cavities. The only sounds were the quiet roaring of the water and the steady pulsing of his blood.

Soft wet sounds, liquid sounds, so much like that time long, long ago when he had lain within the summer-ocean tropics of his mother's womb. Silent, peaceful, happy, never wanting to leave. Never. Until he had been pulled out into the screaming coldness to be handled by rough and frigid hands. Paralyzing coldness. Eternal coldness. He had been cold ever since. Always seeking warmth yet rarely finding it. Hating the cold.

Always cold.

Like the bath water now and the chilling flow from the tap.

Jeremy got out quickly, dried himself off, and dressed to seal in the already escaping warmth. Buttons were especially difficult because of the numbness creeping up through his fingers. Hands and feet were always the first to cool.

He checked the thermostat as he did every night, wishing it had a higher setting, turning the dial away and then back to ninety, as if by doing so he could force it to go farther.

Putting on his hat, pulling on his gloves, he looked at the clock. 4:00 a.m. It was time to go out.

The city was crisp and twinkling in the darkness. Most of the good places had closed down by now, but Jeremy knew of a few that were still open. He picked the Gaslight Bar because he had never been there before, selected a table, ordered a drink. Almost immediately a man appeared, bending down, asking to buy another glass of whatever it was Jeremy was drinking. Jeremy declined but offered the man a chair if he would like to sit and talk.

The man did.

They always did. And Jeremy smiled, confident in the beauty of his tanned skin and golden hair. As the man was speaking, Jeremy reached out and gently touched the man’s hand, fingers grazing fingers.

In fifteen minutes, they were at the man’s place, peeling off clothes and sliding into bed.

The bedroom was far too cold, but the sheets were smooth and whispered to Jeremy as he lay down. The walk to the apartment had sucked away the last bit of warmth that was left from the bath, and now Jeremy was freezing. Teeth chattering, he pressed his flesh against the heat of the man’s body. The man flinched as Jeremy’s icy hands caressed him, jerked his legs away as they met Jeremy’s frozen feet. Jeremy wrapped himself around the man, smiling as he felt him start to shiver. Jeremy’s mouth sought out the man’s and fused there, tongue trailing against teeth, tasting the man’s tongue as it slid up into him. The kiss was making Jeremy almost indifferent to his coldness, unaware of his chill.

His chill. It was something Jeremy never forgot. The deep aching in his bones, the stinging, the numbness, the spine-jarring vibrations that rattled through him. Then the thick, silent stillness that gradually set in, crawling up his arms and legs into his torso, his neck, and finally his head, as his body gave itself up to frozen death.

Jeremy would never forget it. And he was determined never to feel that way again as long as he lived.

Jeremy wrapped his arms around the man and began to drain him.

Mouth sealed against mouth, Jeremy drew. And the heat, the delicious, moist heat flowed into Jeremy. He opened himself, releasing the pressure that held his body closed, breaking the seal. And the vacuum of his coldness sucked away the man’s warmth, pulling it into Jeremy, down, deep inside.

Groaning with ecstasy as the heat flowed into him, flowed down his throat to his heart and stomach and pelvis, radiating outward. Moaning as he drained the man’s warmth away, leaving only coldness in its wake. Infinite, infinite coldness that raged through the man, hardening, solidifying, freezing the man from the inside out.

The man tried to pull away, but his limbs were stiff and heavy and unfeeling. He tried to scream, but his throat was plugged, blocked with ice that silenced him. Suffocating as the pumping of his heart grew slower and harder and thicker, each successive beat sending daggers of pain bursting through his chest.

The man's lungs convulsed for air. His vision glazed. Ice crystals formed in his nostrils. And a soft, crunching roar filled his ears.

Until finally, silence.

It was almost dawn when Jeremy pushed away from the man and began to pull on his clothes.

There was no hurry. This warmth, unlike the artificial heat of radiators and bath water, would linger on, far into the day, almost until dark. He smiled, running his fingers along the sheets, and hummed softly to himself, remembering.

Then he turned his thoughts to the coming night, when darkness would bring the chill and he would bathe once again in preparation for an evening of seduction and pleasure.

And heat.