In the mood for a snack? A few days ago, The Snaccident was released. It’s a short story I wrote to celebrate National Snack Day.
Every day should be National Snack Day, don’t you think?
The Snaccident is a short story about Timothy, who is a sensitive empath who struggles to keep his shields up. To protect himself, he’s isolated himself as best he can, but now his brother is getting married, and he has to attend.
As if a wedding wasn’t bad enough, right as he’s about to leave, his brother asks him to pick up Rush, his brother’s best friend. Five hours and seventeen minutes is way too long to spend in a car with Rush.
Part of Timothy might have wished things were different, but he’d put his heart on the line once when he was younger, and Rush had turned him down. They are now enemies, though Rush doesn’t appear to have gotten the memo.
As I wrote above, this is just a short story, but I’m very much in love with both Rush and Timothy. It has snacks and a one-sided enemies-to-lovers thing going on. The other side simply wants to be lovers 😅
The Snaccident
Snack! Timothy needs a snack! Though he fears there aren’t enough snacks in the world to keep the walls around his heart intact this time around.
As a highly sensitive empath, Timothy Rose is in constant need of food. He has a hard time keeping his mental shields up, and snacks help. A little. He spends most of his days avoiding people since he easily overloads. The only person he’s ever wanted to be close to is Rush Evans, his brother’s best friend. But years ago, Rush turned him down despite hooking up with everything with a pulse, so now Timothy refuses to go anywhere near him.
When Timothy’s brother begs him to give Rush a ride to his wedding, Timothy says no. Initially. He should’ve stuck to his guns because nothing ever goes as planned when Rush is nearby, and simply because Timothy can sense Rush wanting him this time around, and the two of them have a bit of an accident and end up in a small room with only one bed, doesn’t mean he should throw caution to the wind. Right?
Buy links:
Paranormal Gay Romance: 14,754 words
JMS Books :: Amazon :: Books2Read
Chapter 1
Timothy Rose stared at his half-packed suitcase while clutching the phone. “No.”
“Come on, Tim. He’s my best friend, and it’s only for a few hours.”
The best friend was Rush Evans, who was a giant pain in the ass and a manwhore. “No.”
“Tim! He’s my best man; I need him here.”
“Then he shouldn’t have gotten his car blown up.” Timothy had no idea if his car had blown up, but it sounded like a Rush thing to do.
“You heard, huh?”
No, he hadn’t, and he hoped his sigh told Nico he didn’t want any details. Rush was pathetic. He was thirty-seven but lived as if he was seventeen. Getting your car blown up wasn’t something responsible adults did.
“Tim.”
He hated when Nico spoke in the tone he did now. It meant Timothy would give in any second, and he didn’t want to.
“Please.”
“No.”
Nico sighed. “Come on, Tim. You’re the only one left in town. Everyone else left days ago.”
“Rush is still here.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem! Idiot was gonna do a job—” Timothy bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t know what kind of job. It was best not knowing what kind of jobs Nico and Rush were doing. “—but it went wrong, and he had to hide, and then they found him, and… Now he doesn’t have a car. I need you to pick him up. Please Tim. I’ll make it up to you.”
“Make it up to me?” There was nothing Nico could do to make it up to him. He lived a quiet, safe life far away from Nico and Rush’s adventures.
“Yes, anything. Please. You’re my favorite brother, and he’s my best friend. I want you both here on my wedding day.”
“I’m your only brother.”
“My favorite.”
Timothy huffed. “I can’t. He’ll be in my space, and I’m already freaking out about being around so many people at the wedding.” He reached for a green grape from a bowl he’d placed on the bedside table when he’d started packing. Snacks helped his control.
Being hypersensitive was exhausting.
Only psychic families lived in Foolshope. It was how it had always been, and Timothy having moved into Ulledo didn’t change where he came from. It was only a twenty-five-minute drive, but it created some distance from his family and their friends. Timothy didn’t do friends. Friends encroached on his space.
This ratty apartment was his safe haven. No one ever came here, and he could create an illusion of being happy and content. Here no one cared if he was hypersensitive—since no one was here but him. He didn’t need to be covered in fabric from head to toe since he didn’t risk accidentally touching anyone.
Without thinking, he reached for a pair of black satin gloves, pinched the phone in place with his shoulder, and put them on. There. Safer.
“It’ll be fine. Only friends and family here.”
“And Olivia’s friends and family.” Timothy liked Olivia. She and Nico had been together for five years now, and while he still did a lot of stupid stuff, she had a calming effect on him. And Nico loved her. Anyone who’d ever watched him when Olivia was around could tell. Some days Timothy dreamed about having someone look at him the way Nico looked at Olivia.
“Yeah, but they’re cool. No one will touch you.”
Timothy ate another grape. He needed more snacks. His defensive walls held better if he was snacked up. His body worked hard to keep the mental shield intact, and as soon as he ran low on energy, he took in people’s emotions. If they were too close or too many nearby, he did anyway, but snacks and fabric helped him hold on to his self.
Most empaths could take someone’s hand, lower their shields, and get a read. Timothy, if not constantly working on keeping his shields up, would get a read simply by being in the same room as someone, and if he touched them, it was as if he didn’t exist anymore. He got swept up in their emotions, and he hated it. He hated the lack of control, hated how hard he had to work simply to be able to walk down the street, and he hated how everyone looked at him as if he was a kid who had yet to master his powers. He worked harder on control than any of them had ever done, and it wasn’t his fault he was this way.
“Please. Pick Rush up and get your asses over here. I need you. Both of you.”
Timothy winced. “Nico—”
“He won’t touch you, Tim. You know he won’t. He, if anyone, understands.”
An outraged snarl escaped him before he could stop it. Timothy was well aware Rush wouldn’t touch him. He’d had a major crush on him growing up. All through his teenage years, he’d dreamed of touching Rush, kissing Rush, making love to Rush. But Rush always had someone. It never lasted more than a night or two, but he fucked anything that breathed—young, old, guy or girl, it didn’t matter. If they had a pulse, Rush would stick his dick into them.
Then one day when he’d been in his early twenties, Nico had talked him into coming to a party, and Rush had been there. Alone. After a couple of drinks, something Timothy seldom allowed himself since it shattered his control, he’d offered himself to Rush. Had wanted him so badly, his entire body had been a throbbing mess.
Rush had snorted and walked away, and fifteen minutes later he’d been fucking a girl who’d been in Timothy’s French class in the kitchen corner where everyone who wanted could see them.
Timothy had left.
“As someone without powers, he understands not fitting in.”
Timothy jumped at Nico’s voice, shame burning hot on his cheeks as he came away from the memory. “What?”
“Rush, he understands struggling with your skills.”
Timothy laughed a hollow laugh. “No, Nico, he doesn’t understand shit. He doesn’t have any powers. He doesn’t understand being overwhelmed by them.”
Nico growled. “Perhaps not, but he understands being different and not fitting in. How do you think it is being a norm in a psychic community? Do you think people have been treating him kindly? His parents?”
Rush’s parents were idiots, but it did not make Rush understand the struggles Timothy faced. “Being born without powers in a psychic family isn’t the same as being hypersensitive. He can live an ordinary life should he want to.” Though that ship had most likely sailed considering how many jobs he and Nico had done through the years.
Nico pulled in a deep breath. “I’m not saying it’s the same thing. I only meant he understands not being normal.”
“Changes nothing.” Timothy reached for another grape.
“Just go get him, he’s waiting!”
“Fine! But if he fucks up the trip, it’s gonna cost you.”
Silence stretched, then Nico spoke in a low voice. “Thank you, bro. I love you, both of you, and I want you here.”
Timothy rubbed his forehead, hating how his eyes started to burn. “We’ll be there.”
* * * *
Timothy’s heart was thudding in his ears when he stopped the car by the sidewalk outside Rush’s house in Foolshope. The square, white, one-story house was way cuter than anything Timothy had ever lived in and at odds with his image of Rush.
Several people were moving around on the street, so Timothy stayed in the car. He was already on edge and didn’t want to risk having to talk to anyone. Rush knew he was coming. Sooner or later, he’d peek out a window and see him there.
While he waited, he reached into the glove compartment for a bag of cashews. He’d packed as many snacks as he could in there, different kinds, to help him live through the trip.
When the passenger door was yanked open, he almost screamed. He hadn’t seen Rush coming.
“You want me to drive?” Rush peeked into the car but made no move to climb in.
“No.”
Rush grimaced. “Maybe it’s better if I drive. If something—”
“I’m going now. Are you coming or not?” He turned the key in the ignition, and Rush slipped into the passenger seat while giving Timothy a narrow-eyed look.
Rush turned around in the seat and tossed a ratty backpack into the backseat. Timothy was biting his tongue not to talk, but… “Don’t you have a suit?”
“Of course I do.”
Timothy curled his fingers tighter around the steering wheel, making the satin stretch over his knuckles, and glanced at the cashews. His skin was tingling as if Rush’s emotions were dancing on it. “In the backpack?”
Leaning back on the seat, Rush gave him his trademark flirty grin which had Timothy’s gut tying itself in knots. Idiot.
“No, not in the backpack, Timmy.”
Timothy ignored the shiver traveling his spine and focused on the road. The last time someone other than Rush had called him Timmy, he’d been eight or something. He hated being called Timmy. It made him sound like a kid, and he wasn’t a kid. Rush was only three years older than he was.
“You’re a fucking idiot, did you know?”
“You keep reminding me.” The gravelly drawl didn’t help the situation in the least, and Timothy swallowed a growl. Five hours and seventeen minutes was all he had to survive, according to Google. He could do this. For Nico, he could do this.
“Did you check out the castle?”
Timothy shook his head, but of course, he’d checked out the castle. Olivia wanted a fancy wedding, and they’d booked a castle in the countryside. It was beautiful, and Timothy had studied the floor plan to know where he could slink off to when he needed a break… or have a complete breakdown. Had to plan for those.
“If I ever get married, I’m also renting a castle. So cool.”
Timothy stared at him, slowly lifting the foot off the gas pedal, though he wasn’t aware of doing so until the car behind him honked. He shook himself and got them moving again. “Married? It means monogamy.”
Rush scowled. “I know.”
“Though I guess it depends. If you write your vows, you can perhaps add: And I promise not to cheat more than once or twice a week. Maybe they’ll be okay with that.”
“I’m perfectly capable of being in a monogamous relationship.”
Timothy snorted. “Yeah, right.” A laugh bubbled out of him. “Mr. Manwhore who fucks everything with a pulse will settle down one day. Ha!”
Rush’s gaze burned trails on his face, and Timothy reached for a cashew. He hated getting salt and grease on his satin gloves, but he needed to keep the snacking up or this trip would turn into more of a disaster.
“You don’t believe me?”
“No, Rush, I don’t believe you. I think you’re a serial cheater, a walking STD, and one day soon, when you lose your good looks and bad boy charms, you’ll find yourself in a cold, lonely bed.”
“So, simply because I’m not a virgin like you, I can’t love someone?”
Timothy gave him a quick glance before turning out on the highway, taking them away from Foolshope. It got a little easier to breathe as the roofs of the houses disappeared, but it would be a short respite since half the town would be at the castle.
“I’m thirty-four. You don’t seriously believe I’m a virgin, do you?” He’d sounded serious, but Rush was never serious. He was always making fun of people, and right now, Timothy was his only option. “And love? No, I don’t think you’re capable of love. Or I think you love Nico, but it’s a friendship kind of love.”
“Who have you been with?”
A black car was coming up fast behind them, making Timothy frown. “What?”
“Who have you slept with?”
He chanced a quick glance at Rush, who looked furious, but quickly focused on the rearview mirror again. “What the fuck are they doing?”
The black car was getting closer and closer, and Timothy tightened his hold on the steering wheel again.
“Who, Timmy?”
“The car—”
Rush turned around and looked out the window. “Shit! Go faster.”
Ofelia Grand 