Warnings: sex, injury, depictions of death (not all in the same scene, don't worry)

There's a lot going on in this one. Also, there's a lot of Spanish at the end. My preferred translation site for this is SpanishDict. I've found it works nicely, even if everything doesn't have a direct translation.

Marco pushed Mike onto the bed, both men panting and gasping against the other's lips. Mike ground up into him. They'd had a busy shift, not necessarily hard, but busy, and they still had some pent up energy. If we're all fucked out, at least we'll sleep. Marco quickly stripped his lover, methodical and careful, tossing his shirt to the floor. He moaned beneath him, hips bucking up to seek friction. Mike was already hard… not that Marco wasn't. He lowered his body to cover Mike's, moaned in pleasure, reached down to work on removing Mike's jeans. Before he could finish, Mike hooked a leg behind Marco's and flipped them with ease.

Mike's fingers were deft as they unbuttoned Marco's shirt and jeans. The jeans and shorts went to the floor. Warm lips worked their way down Marco's body, teeth biting occasionally, their path clear. His fingers gripped Mike's brown hair as his mouth started working Marco's cock, his head bobbing up and down along the shaft. He let Mike dictate what he wanted, and as soon as Mike released his hips, Marco let them thrust up, carefully fucking into the warm mouth. Mike's tongue worked sinfully around the head, one of his hands probing gently at Marco's ass. Marco writhed under his ministrations, unashamed at the moans dropping from his mouth. The sounds were wanton, pornographic, just what he knew Mike liked.

He watched with lidded eyes as Mike sucked him off. Marco reveled in the way his lover's lips looked wrapped around his length, the way his cheeks hollowed out, the way his jaw visibly relaxed when Marco fucked into his mouth. So beautiful… mi hermoso ángel… He cried out when Mike's fingers brushed over his prostate, a shock of pleasure shooting up his spine. Marco gave Mike's hair a gentle but definite tug and pulled him up to kiss him.

"What are you tryin' to do to me, querido?" he asked huskily, "Tryin' to make me cum too fast?"

"No way, babe, never too fast… who would take care of me if you were all spent?"

"So it's all about you, then?"

"Of course. I thought you knew that."

Marco smirked, kissed his lover, twined his fingers through the brown hair.

"C'mon, Mike, corazón… take your pants off," Marco told him, nipping at his jaw, "See, I wanna fuck you into the mattress, and that's hard to do when you're still wearin' pants."

"So forceful… I like it…"

Mike easily rolled off him and slowly stripped out of his jeans and underwear, knowing how it teased Marco. He felt himself salivate at the sight of the damp spot on the front of Mike shorts, the hard cock that sprang forth, the delicious pink flush gracing Mike's torso. Marco pulled him closer by his hips and lavished his abdomen with kisses, letting his teeth and tongue trace intricate patterns. Mike laughed quietly above him, the muscles of his belly jumping slightly under Marco's lips.

"Thought you wanted to fuck me into the mattress…"

"I do… just couldn't help myself after that 'lil striptease," Marco replied, giving Mike's cock a slow stroke, "You just looked so perfect."

"You al-always know just what to say, babe."

Marco smiled and leaned forward. Mike gasped as Marco put his mouth around his cock and worked his tongue around the head, holding Mike's hips still. They did this often, mixed in the tender and the rough when they made love, and Marco loved it. This was his way of taking care of Mike before things got a little rougher. He relaxed his throat and swallowed Mike to his base, causing his lover to suck in a sharp breath, fingertips pressing into the muscles of his shoulders. After a few moments, Marco pulled his lips off Mike's cock, kissed along the shaft, bit just above his hipbone, sucked a bruise into the flesh there. A soft, whining moan slipped from Mike's throat, and Marco's cock twitched in response.

Gripping Mike's hips, he quickly pulled him in and threw him to the bed, straddling him with ease. Calloused hands gripped Marco's thighs. Marco leaned over, kissing and nipping at Mike's throat, asking, "What do you want, mi ángel?"

"Want-… want you to fuck me…"

"Oh yeah?" Marco teased.

"Yeah," he breathed in reply, "You said you were gonna fuck me hard, and I'm still waitin'."

Marco rocked against him, grabbed his wrists, pinned them up beside his head. If he has any second thoughts, now's the time to say so. Mike moaned and bucked up into him, whined, "Please, babe…"

"Please, what? What do you want?"

"Please fuck me hard… fuck me into the mattress like you said."

He bit Mike just below the collarbone and got to his feet to retrieve the lube, telling Mike not to move as he slicked up his cock. That proved to be difficult. He could see Mike's fingers twitching. After a moment, Marco stepped closer, grabbed Mike's hips, and flipped him over so his ass was up. The position would be a little rough on Mike, as he wouldn't be able to touch himself, but Marco was prepared to remedy that situation when all was said and done.

Pleasure buzzed at the base of Marco's skull, hot lust pulsing through his veins. He knelt behind his lover, holding down his biceps, and thrust into him with a single, steady movement. Mike gave a low whine, squirming under him. The skin of his back was flushed a heated pink. Marco covered the muscular body with his own, pressed soft kisses about Mike's shoulders and neck, sucked a bruise into the skin between his shoulder blades, murmured, "So beautiful… mi amor… mi hermoso ángel… mi corazón…"

"Mm… I love you, too," Mike replied, "Now move it."

One more kiss, and Marco rose to his knees, still inside his lover, and rolled his hips. Mike moaned softly. That just won't do… won't do at all… He gripped Mike's hips and thrust hard this time, the slap of skin sounding through their bedroom along with a loud whimper from Mike. That's better. He thrust hard again. The mattress squeaked under their weight. Marco set an almost punishing pace for both of them, sweat beading at his forehead, Mike wonderfully hot around him. He watched the muscles of Mike's back shift and shudder, the muscles of his arms tense as he clutched the sheets. Mike moaned beneath him, "Yeah, babe, fuck my ass… oh yeah…"

A wave of heat rushed through Marco's body, interrupting his pace for a second. He adjusted his position, leaning over Mike once more, pinning his arms, using his legs to hold Mike's down.

"You want me to fuck your ass, huh?" Marco whispered hoarsely.

"God, yes… please fuck me hard…"

Marco gave a rough thrust, setting another harsh pace. Mike's body tensed, the muscles taut across his back, a gasp escaping his mouth. He pushed back against Marco's thrusts as best he could, rocking against him and the mattress. The muscles of Marco's buttocks and thighs burned with the pace of his fucking, but he could ignore it for the time being. He was having too much fun. His ears were ringing with slapping skin and whimpering moans and quiet grunts and squeaking springs: a lusty, erotic symphony. Heat spread through his belly.

He shoved an arm under Mike's chest, gripped his hair harshly in his other hand, fucked roughly into his lover as he let out a ragged moan. Marco breathed, "I'm gonna cum, Mike, mi amor…"

"Fuck yeah, babe… want you to cum," Mike panted, "Cum in my ass, baby…"

A few rough thrusts was all it took. Marco's hips rolled jerkily through his orgasm, an explosive groan leaving his lips, and he loved the way his cum slicked Mike's inside. Perfect… Beautiful… He pulled out after a moment, asking Mike to roll over onto his back. He was pleased to see the other man hadn't cum. Mike cried out when Marco swallowed his cock to its base, the organ heavy and heady on his tongue. Big hands grabbed his shoulders and gripped tight. Mike watched his every move, the muscles of his belly and thighs shivering with need, like he was trying not to cum to prolong his pleasure.

"Come on, babe," Marco gave his cock a long stroke, "your turn now," kissed his way to the base, "your turn to cum for me," licked a stripe up the underside, "Cum for me…"

One of Mike's hands gripped the back of Marco's head, his hips stuttering as he tried to hold them down. Marco relaxed his jaw and throat, trying to let Mike know what he wanted was okay. Mike groaned and fucked up into Marco's mouth. I'm making him do this… I'm making him lose control like this… He slipped two fingers into Mike's hole, seeking his prostate. Mike swore loudly, his whole body jerking, the tip of his cock brushing the back of Marco's throat.

"Marco! Fuck!"

There was no way he was backing off now. He felt Mike's cock pulsing on his tongue, felt hot cum in his throat, felt the hand tighten in his hair. He took every last drop.

"Holy shit, Marco," Mike panted, pulling him up for a kiss, "That was incredible."

"Thank you. You weren't bad yourself," he smirked.

He kissed Mike languidly, exhaustion beginning to set in. Calloused fingers gently stroked his cheek.

"I mean it when I say I love you," Mike whispered, "I love you so much I don't know how I ever lived without you."

Warmth bloomed in Marco's chest.

"I love you, too. Te adoro… Te amo más que nada… Mi querido, mi corazón…"

Mike smiled, his blue eyes bright and tired. We'll shower and change the sheets later. Marco hooked a leg around one of Mike's, draping an arm over him. His body felt heavy, sated, exhausted, so he ignored the odd sensation in the pit of his stomach. He chalked it up to his exhaustion and snuggled further into Mike's warmth.

xXxXx

"C'mon, Marco," Mike laughed, pushing his lover away half-heartedly, "babe, stop. We hafta go to work."

"I don't wanna go to work. Let's call in sick."

"We can't both call in sick."

"Why not? Roommates get each other sick all the time. Just say I got you sick."

"Nice try. I'm not sure my ass can take another pounding," Mike smirked.

"Who says I wanna pound your ass again? Maybe I just wanna cuddle all day."

"Marco, we cannot call out this late to cuddle all day. C'mon, let's go to work. I'll drive."

The day was already off to an odd start. Both Mike and Marco were dedicated to the job. Neither of them took sick days lightly. More than once over their respective careers they'd had to be sent home for coming in too sick to actually work and hated every minute of it. Why doesn't he wanna go in today? They climbed up into the old red truck and headed to the station for work. Marco was unusually quiet the whole way there.

Actually, Marco was unusually quiet for most of the day, and Mike didn't like it, especially since Marco wasn't talking to him about it. That was the worst part. They've always been able to talk things through, to handle things together. Why won't he tell me what's wrong?

"Hey, man," Johnny asked in a low voice about halfway through the day, "Everything alright with you and Marco? Y'all are just quieter than usual. You fight or somethin'?"

"No, we didn't fight," Mike replied, "but-… well, he didn't wanna come in today. He joked about calling in sick and just staying home. He never does that."

"Yeah, that is kinda weird. Want me to talk to him?"

Part of Mike's brain told him that was a horrible idea, but it was quickly drowned out. Johnny's a good kid, a good friend. He's not stupid.

"I'd appreciate it, Johnny."

Johnny offered him a lopsided smirk that did nothing to spur Mike's confidence. Less than an hour later, he dropped next to Mike on the couch. He was not smirking this time.

"Well, he told me what's up, Mike, but I'm not sure you're gonna believe it."

"Believe what?"

"Told me he didn't wanna say anything to you 'cause he didn't wanna worry you, first off, but I think you have a right to know seein' as how y'all are so close," Johnny replied quietly, "Marco said he didn't wanna come to work today 'cause he had a bad feelin' about today, feels like somethin' bad is gonna happen to one of us."

"Why does he think that?" Mike asked, "Did he say?"

Johnny shrugged, "Dunno exactly. He just said he had a bad feelin' about the shift today. Some people are like that, y'know… can sense bad things like some people sense rain…"

"But it's never happened before. I mean, bad stuff's happened to guys on our shift before, and Marco's never had one of these… feelings."

"And them people don't always smell the rain before it comes."

Mike sighed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. It isn't like Marco to be superstitious like this. Sure, some of Marco's family members were superstitious, believed in visions and miracles and the like, but not Marco… not that Mike knew, anyway.

"Do you believe him, John?"

"Hell yeah, I believe him. Seen enough of that firsthand. Despite what the government tried to do, my people are still very spiritual. Plenty of people I know have had premonitions and stuff like that. Auntie had 'em sometimes. I've had one or two in my life, even, and I'll be honest, they usually mean somethin'."

He clapped Mike on the shoulder and rose to his feet, calling Roy's name, leaving Mike alone on the couch. It was probably better when I didn't know. 'Bad things' in this job ran the gamut, from a twisted ankle to death. Things could change in the blink of an eye, no warning whatsoever. Mike hoped it wouldn't be something serious. They were having a slow day, after all. How much could go wrong on a slow day? The thought didn't stop a bubble of dread from forming in the pit of Mike's stomach.

"Johnny told you?"

Marco stood in front of him, hands in his pockets, his expression almost tired. Mike nodded. He sighed, scrubbed at his face, sat beside Mike on the couch, said, "You're worried."

"Yeah… yeah, I am."

"That's why I didn't wanna tell you. You worry."

"I know… but I wanna know things like this. Shit, I was worried when you wouldn't talk to me, though," Mike replied quietly, "We can always talk about anything, so when you don't tell me what's goin' on, it-… it really freaks me out, babe."

"Oh yeah, 'cause you've never done that to me before," Marco commented, and when Mike opened his mouth, he cut him off, saying, "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Look, I'm just-… I'm kinda freaked out myself just now. Mama called me last night and told me she didn't want me to come to work today. Said she had a dream. It wasn't specific or detailed, but she said it would be something really bad. I didn't think anything of it until I woke up this morning and felt the same way."

"Has she had dreams like that before? Were they right?"

Marco chewed his lip before nodding, saying, "She had one before Miguel died. That one was really specific, though. She had it on Dia de los Angelitos, the day we remember any children in the family who've died. Miguel's face was painted like a calavera, and he held a bunch of cempasúchil… uh, marigolds. We use them to decorate altars during Dia de Muertos. A dream like that only means one thing."

Mike's stomach rolled uncomfortably.

"Did she say what was in this dream?"

"She said-… She saw me surrounded by black smoke in my turnout gear, and behind me stood Santa Muerte. Santa Muerte is kind of a-a folk saint, an angel of death, but She's good, answers prayers said to Her, can perform miracles," Marco explained softly, "A lot of poor people venerate Her, the poor and drug dealers and prostitutes, people in dangerous jobs. She's not like a Grim Reaper, though, even if She looks like one. She protects us."

"Then maybe-… maybe She's protecting you in that dream your mom had. Maybe there's nothing to worry about," Mike offered hopefully, searching his lover's eyes.

Marco let out a quiet huff, looked at his lap, whispered, "That's why I love you, Mike. You're always so hopeful, so upbeat. I want to believe that."

"Then believe it. I've always found optimism kept the worst of the worry at bay."

"Really? You're my worrywart. Are you really that optimistic?"

"You just said I am."

"I suppose I did. I guess I can try optimism for you."

Mike almost kissed him, only stopped himself about halfway there. The weight of worry in his stomach lessened, and Marco must have felt it because his expression brightened slightly. That's better. He supposed it was only natural, but he hated when Marco was upset in any way. Besides, it wasn't like him to be superstitious or to really believe in things like fortune telling or anything like that. We'll get back to normal in no time at all. I know it. He settled for patting Marco's knee.

Just after nine at night, the station was called out as part of a second alarm to a structure fire. The address used to be on the outskirts of the city once upon a time and was still fairly out of the way. Upon arrival, Mike noted the structure was most likely an old boarding house, maybe a multiple-family home in its later years. Now, there were boards over the windows and graffiti on the walls, the building having long since fallen into disuse save as a place for squatters and drug dealers. Some kids had probably lit it up for fun. Mike hoped none of the idiot kids were still trapped inside.

Mike easily swung the engine into position, saw Marco and Chet hop off and get to work, got out himself and ran around to get the pump working. Black smoke billowed into the sky, blocking out the stars and moon. Flames glowed in the broken windows, the fire having eaten away the plywood boards, now licking against the brick. The trick would be containment on this one. The structure was long since abandoned, and it would likely be determined that it was not worth risking lives for a building no one cared about. Let it burn, but nothing else. Mike slipped into his work. The sounds of the scene faded into a dull roar save for the orders of the incident commander and the engine's radio.

"We're getting reports of a possible victim still inside. I need an interior assault and a paramedic team. Victim is reported as last seen on the second floor…"

Mike swore, trying to remember the other squad on scene, fairly sure 36s was there. But we're fresh, the second alarm. 36s was part of the first. Unease clawed at his gut. You don't send in tired troops for a frontal assault. You send your reserves. He swore again and adjusted his mental filter. He needed to hear what was going on. A chief's car pulled up to the scene. Cap came over the radio. He was going in with the rest of the shift on the search. Mike's stomach rolled. He listened.

xXxXx

"Lopez! You go with Gage and DeSoto up to the second floor!" Cap shouted through his air mask, "See if you can find that victim, but if it gets bad, get outta there, okay?"

They all agreed. Cap took the line from Marco, and he and Chet worked to clear a path for them. Inside the abandoned building, it was dark and hot, unbearably so, but Marco and Roy and Johnny pushed on toward a staircase to go up to the second floor. Damned idiot kids just can't leave well enough alone. Gotta keep lightin' shit on fire for kicks and then get themselves trapped. He could already feel the sweat pouring down his back.

The second floor was a long hallway of boarded up doors. Those rooms wouldn't need checking, at least. There were a few, however, that had the boards missing, that had already been broken into, that were accessible. The roar of the fire was deafening, but the sound wasn't enough to cover creaking wood.

"Fellas, we're gonna hafta get outta here soon!" Roy told them.

None of them wanted to leave a potential victim behind, but there was no sense in risking their lives. The heat and smoke were too much. The building was too unstable. Roy and Johnny led the way back to the stairs. Embers dripped from the ceiling, the burning building putting out some ominous noises. We'll be fine. We just hafta get out to the engine and then it's containment. Nothin' to it at-

Marco didn't even have time to scream.

xXxXx

Mike turned from his panel for a moment, looking at the still burning building. Anxiety roiled in his gut just knowing Marco was in there and Chet and Cap and everyone. Everyone but me…as usual. He returned to his panel. He couldn't afford to be distracted, not here, not now. There was a commotion behind him, firemen shouting and a cacophony of orders and information, passing to the captains and their men. Mike had the radio on the engine cranked up.

"We have a man down inside the structure!" Cap called over the radio, his voice frantic beneath its veneer of authority, "I repeat, I have a man down inside the structure due to a collapse! Requesting an additional team for rescue!"

He had to fight the choking fear and terror. Don't think about it. Just focus on the panel. Mike took a deep breath and concentrated on the work in front of him. Johnny was most likely the one down. No one attracted trouble like John Gage. Mike took another deep breath, carefully detached himself from the situation, focused his eyes forward and his ears on the radio. Surely, if the injured man was Marco, someone would've told him by now. The radio traffic told him nothing.

xXxXx

It was very dark. Marco was sure his eyes were open, as he could see some spots of light flickering above him. A moment passed before he remembered what happened (hopefully) moments before. Structure fire. Stairs collapsed. That's it. He tried to move and screamed as pain shot through his back, sharp and burning and horrible. At least his legs hurt, too, so he knew he wasn't paralyzed. Thank God for small favors. The roar of flames was still audible but no longer deafening. The smell of smoke was thick in the air, sat heavy in his nose and mouth and throat. His air mask had dislodged. A wave of panic swept over him. He screamed again when he tried to move his left arm, pain shooting from the forearm. So that's broken… fuck. His right felt intact, so he carefully moved it to his mask and the line to his air bottle.

"Fuck… son of a bitch…"

The line was sheared off. The air mask was useless. Marco simply pulled it off and let it fall. At this rate, he was going to die of smoke inhalation and probably chemical asphyxia anyway. His throat already burned from whatever was in the smoke. I was right behind Johnny. They're looking for me. Unless the building was too unstable or the fire too hot. He'd thought that earlier, after all. There was no point risking three lives for one, even another fireman. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. I think that's been said before. He coughed, wracking his body with pain.

His ears strained to hear the sounds of rescue but to no avail. He had no way of knowing how long he'd been down there, if he was bleeding, if he was even being looked for. Death from smoke inhalation could be quick. Hell, I might be dead already. That thought brought a lump to his throat. Marco did not want to die yet. He had so much more to do in his life… so much left to do with Mike.

Marco couldn't hold back the sob. This wasn't fair. This was not his time. It couldn't be. Tears not caused by smoke welled in his eyes and spilled over. He couldn't bear the thought of leaving Mike, of knowing how upset he would be, of knowing Mike would be broken-hearted.

"Por favor, Santa Muerte… Santa Madre de las Lágrimas," he prayed, recalling his mother's dream, pulling out the words learned long ago, "Mira amablemente a todos los que sufren o luchar contra cualquier dificultad… Tened piedad de aquellos que están separados de alguien que aman. Tened piedad de la soledad de nuestros corazones. Tened piedad de la debilidad de nuestra fe y amor. Tened pie-piedad de aquellos que-que lloran, a-a-a los que oran, a lo-los que temen… Por favor, me ayudan a conseguir paz en mi corazón y mi alma… Estoy orando de mi corazón, Madre de Lágrimas… Ven-Vengo a ti, lleno de esperanza, de rodillas a tus pies, bajo su total protección, nada problemas o me afligen, y no necesito temer desgracia o enfermedad o cualquier otro dolor, por tu conmigo siempre y allí no es ningún mal que-que us-usted no puede a la derecha, y no puede no se dobla a la tuya. Ruego, desprecian no mis peticiones, pero en tu misericordia y me contestes… por-por favor, no me deja morir y dejar mi más querido en su pesar. Te-Te… Te doy gracias desde mi cor-corazón por tu esperanza y bondad… A-A-Amen…"

His vision was greying at the edges, and Marco knew unconsciousness would seen be upon him. He swore he saw Her, a skeletal Being in a black robe, Her bony hand reaching out to touch his face.

I tried to use this prayer very respectfully and in a way that it would potentially be used. Please let me if I have offended and let me know what I can do to remedy the situation.