by Riley Knight
Gunner’s lips slowly parted, teasing Sam’s open as well, and Sam heard a soft, urgent little groan and didn’t know where it was coming from, at first. And then he realized it was from himself. He was making that noise, and not only that, but he was parting his lips and letting Gunner’s tongue sweep in, teasing at his own, tangling in a dance which his body seemed to know how to do, despite having never done it before. Not with a man, anyway.
It went on and on, neither of them breaking away from it. It was like they were both daring the other to pull away, but neither of them could make themselves. Sam felt something inside of himself, something which he’d held so tightly back, struggling to escape, and for a moment, he was tempted to let it out, to admit the horrible truth to himself.
He liked this. He was kissing a man, and he was very aware that it was a man, and yet he still wanted to do it. It still felt somehow like the most natural thing in the world, as easy as breathing.
The sound of the door opening had Sam pushing at Gunner’s strong shoulders and had Gunner springing away. Without a word, with his cheeks flaming and his heart pattering away in his chest and a tightness in the front of his pants that was hard to explain away, Sam grabbed the oil can and started to dump it into the oil tank.
“Okay, let’s take a look at this bike of yours,” Mike spoke, and to Sam, he already sounded far more cheerful than he had before. How long had he and Gunner been making out? Probably longer than it had seemed, if Mike had managed to cool down as much as he had.
Sam stayed silent, focusing entirely on the rest of the oil change, though Gunner had, truth to be told, done most of it, and better than Sam could have managed. He really did need to watch himself around this guy.
And not just because of his job, either. Gunner was a threat to a lot more than just Sam’s paycheck, considering that he could still remember the taste of his kiss, how it had felt to be so close to him, their mouths meshed together, breathing through each other.
Time passed, and Gunner stayed away, choosing to hang out with Mike, instead. Which really made a lot more sense than what had just happened, that searing kiss which had threatened to make Sam lose all sanity, all rationality.
Mike and Gunner were the same sort of person, and Sam was better off on his own. And yet, even when he’d finished the oil change, he didn’t sneak off into the other room to try to finish off his book while Mike was distracted. Instead, he started to clean up the shop, which Mike was always after him to do anyway. No time like the present.
“Well, the good news is, you haven’t trashed your whole damn engine,” Mike finally said, while Sam strained his ears and tried to tell himself that he wasn’t. “The bad news is, your crankshaft is damaged. I’m gonna need to get the part in.”
There was a long silence, and Sam let his eyes slip over sideways to try to see Gunner’s face. The man’s skin looked a little bit pale under his tan, Sam thought, but that really wasn’t any of his business.
“How much is that gonna set me back,” Gunner asked, and even though Sam wasn’t trying to listen, and he didn’t care anyway, he couldn’t help but wince a little in sympathy when the response came to that.
“About two grand. I’m sorry, son,” Mike spoke gently, or at least, more gently than the other man usually spoke, at least when he was talking to Sam. He seemed to like Gunner a hell of a lot more than he liked Sam. “If this was just some off of the lot bike, I would tell you that you’d be better off just buying a new one. As it is, I can give you a discount, but …”
His voice trailed off, and just then, a ringing sound came from the front office. The bell that announced someone was there chimed merrily, and when Sam glanced up at the clock on the wall, he was surprised to see that it was nearly five o’clock.
It was probably Isaac, and he went into the front to verify. At least he had the oil check done, so he wouldn’t have to deal with disappointing his brother’s husband on top of everything else.
But it wasn’t Isaac. It was much worse than that because while Isaac could be a pain in Sam’s ass, that wasn’t nearly as bad as what Sam’s big brother could do. The man who had saved Sam, and who Sam owned far too much, too, because of it, was standing in the front, peering around for him.
“Hey,” Sam said quietly, and then he couldn’t help but grin when he saw who was behind his big brother’s legs. A black, furry face grinned at him, as the black lab puppy bounded over to him, licking his hands.
At least there was something good about today, though that was just one more thing he owned his big brother, he supposed. Though that kiss, which still haunted Sam, it was hard to see that as entirely a bad thing.
FOUR
“I’d better follow that idiot boy before he scares off customers,” Mike grumbled, but Gunner was pretty sure that a lot of that was bluster. Mike didn’t hate Sam. He was disappointed in him, Gunner was pretty sure about that, but he didn’t dislike Sam, or Sam wouldn’t be working here.
Hadn’t he disappointed enough people in his time to pick up on that vibe easily enough?
Quietly, Gunner wiped his hands on a rag and then followed. Why he wasn’t sure. His conversation with Mike wasn’t over, he sensed that much, but his body was still tingling from the kisses he’d stolen from Sam. He should probably back off, but when had he ever been good at doing what he should?
“Oh, hey, Ben,” Mike greeted, speaking to a man who seemed to be in his late thirties with stunning green eyes and a strong family resemblance to Sam. Those eyes, he would know them anywhere. He’d only just met Sam, but already, those eyes seemed etched inside him somewhere.
“Hey,” the newcomer drawled, and he looked down at Sam, who was crouching on the floor greeting a young dog who pretty much wriggled with excitement. Gunner tried not to, but he couldn’t help but smile a little bit himself.
Sam and the dog seemed equally glad to see each other. Not that that was any of Gunner’s business. Not that he should be finding anything delightful about the stuck up brat.
“Ben, this is Gunner,” Mike introduced, and Gunner reached out to clasp the other man’s hand briefly. His grip was good and firm, his smile open and welcoming. This was, Gunner thought, one of the most content people he’d ever met. How he knew, he wasn’t sure. It was just this sense about him.
“Good to know you, Gunner,” Ben greeted, and the way he said it, it was like he actually meant it. “What’s your story?”
Gunner snorted softly. It was a friendly enough question, but he really didn’t think that Ben actually wanted to hear about the mess that was his life. Oh, no big deal, I’m just running away from my murderously angry ex-boyfriend who I’m pretty sure wants to kill me.
Yeah. That would go over well.
“Gunner’s just rolling through town,” Mike rescued Gunner, earning a place in Gunner’s heart for probably the rest of his life. “His bike engine got trashed.”
“Huh, that’s too bad,” Ben said and then frowned softly. “You got someplace to stay, kid?”
Kid. Gunner was not used to people speaking to him like that. In a way, it made him bristle, but it also sort of felt good. Even when he was younger, no one had seen him as something as innocent as a kid. But this man really did seem to.
“No,” Gunner admitted. Nor did he have money for a motel. Or food. Maybe he could work something out for the bike, but he was going to have to eat sometime. Sleep, too.
There was a silence then, and Gunner became aware that Sam had risen to his feet and was giving Ben a look that was almost plaintive. Was Sam Ben’s son? Surely not, the age difference between them didn’t seem to be enough, though he supposed that technically, it could happen. Ben was even wearing a wedding ring.
“Where will you sleep?” Ben pressed, with the bluntness that Gunner was already coming to associate with this particular part of the world. He’d seen it in Mike, and now in Ben.
“I …” Gunner shrugged. There was no good way to answer that. No way that wouldn’t make him seem complete
ly pathetic. He had already debased himself enough today, by begging for charity from Mike. He didn’t need to seem more like a loser than he already did.
“I got a place,” Ben admitted, while Sam shook his head, a panicked look on his face. “It ain’t much. Just an old barn that we converted into an apartment. We rent it out sometimes. You could stay there for a few days if you want.” Ben’s smile was understanding, but not pitying. Gunner was very on guard for pity, very ready to defend against it, but he didn’t see any trace of that in Ben.
Sam clearly didn’t want him to, and Gunner smirked a bit to himself. Twitting the beautiful, stuck-up, arrogant young man with his presence was almost enough of a reason to accept the offer even on its own.
The guy was just so adorable when he was pissed off. Gunner found himself smiling and nodding, accepting the offer, because not only did he have no choice but he had the distinct idea that it was going to be a lot of fun.
The kisses had gotten to him, no doubt about it, but Gunner honestly didn’t think they would happen again. Sam was clearly not as straight as he wanted to seem like he was, but Gunner wasn’t the type to force himself on someone. It was pretty crazy that they’d kissed at all since Gunner wasn’t normally into the whole closeted obnoxious brat thing that Sam had going on.
But part of Sam had wanted those kisses and more. When Sam turned those dagger eyes on him once more, Gunner could see it there. They stared at each other, ignoring Mike, ignoring Ben, something deeply complicated passing between them. Something beyond desire, or annoyance, or anger, or lust. Something which seemed to mix and mingle all of that into one.
“Okay. Gunner, looks like you got yourself a place,” Mike stated, pulling Gunner from the intense shared gaze with Sam. “And I’ll fix your bike, but you’re gonna have to work for me until the part is paid off. Deal?”
It was generous. More than generous. Gunner was good with his hands and enjoyed fixing things, and this would get him back on the road again. Just like that, he was taken care of, a place to live and a job and a hope at a future, maybe.
Which reminded him, he had a job waiting for him. He would need to call the man who had offered it to him, make sure that he knew what was going on. But that was all details. Otherwise, what could he do? Leave his bike here, hitch a ride into Austin?
No way. That just wasn’t going to happen. His bike was all that he had. His only link to a world where he was anything more than what he had become now. More than just a man on the run. He’d give up a thousand jobs in a thousand dive bars before he lost that.
“Sam. We’ll see you for dinner, right? You know it breaks Ruby’s heart when you ain’t there,” Ben said, and Gunner frowned. Ruby could be Ben’s wife, he figured. Sam’s mom? Or was he all messed up here?
“Yeah,” Sam sighed like he was giving in to the inevitable. Yeah, there was definitely more going on here than Gunner understood, or wanted to. This family was none of his business, though he did think Sam sort of seemed like an ungrateful twit. He was lucky to have Ben as a father if that’s what he was.
“Good. Isaac’s at the bar tonight, so you have the night off,” Ben informed Sam, who nodded, as though that made complete sense to him. Which it probably did, even if Gunner had no idea who this Isaac was. There was something, a sort of sweet, subtle tenderness, to the way that Ben said that name.
“Okay, boys, back to work,” Mike said, as Sam tossed over some car keys to Ben. The four of them, plus Sam’s dog, went through the door into the back, and Ben got into the car that Gunner and Sam had done the oil change on. With a friendly wave, the man was gone.
While Sam picked up a broom again, Mike showed Gunner around the shop, which wasn’t particularly big but which was full of cars in for repair. Full enough that he didn’t even notice the special car, not at first.
“One thing you gotta know, Gunner, is that we’ll get along fine so long as I never see you lay even a finger on the Jag,” Mike spoke with pardonable pride as he led him through the space. The Jag? Gunner frowned, confused until Mike led him around the corner. There, under a dust sheet which Mike whipped away with great pride, was a beautiful, gleaming black car.
It was a Jaguar, no doubt about it, and so lovingly maintained that it would be worth a nice chunk of change. Gunner couldn’t even help himself. He softly whistled as he walked around the vehicle, not having to feign being impressed.
“Jaguar XK-E?” he asked, and Mike nodded, obviously pleased with himself and pretty much glowing with pride. As well he might be. This car was a classic. “From the sixties, right?”
“1964. You have an eye for cars,” Mike complimented. The dog, who had followed Sam into the shop, came around as though to see what they were looking at, and Mike eyed him warily.
“Sam, if your dog does anything to my car …”
“Relax, old man,” came Sam’s voice. Gunner smirked a bit to himself. These people were absolutely adorable, and part of him couldn’t believe that he’d been accepted. Him, of all people, being trusted around a Jag, invited onto someone’s property, given a job, even.
No way in hell was he going to mess this up. Sometimes he felt like everything he touched turned to shit, but not this. He was determined about that. He was just going to get what he needed to do done, and be out of here before he could ruin anyone’s life.
“Shadow,” Sam called, and the dog bounded away, an adoring look on his face. Someone who could make a dog love him that much couldn’t be all bad, right?
“Okay. You guys give me another hour, and then you can knock off. Sam, keep cleaning. Gunner, there’re a few more oil changes to do, and you can tell me what else you know how to do.”
There was a huge backlog of cars, Gunner saw, and clearly only one mechanic. He grinned at the older man, watching in amusement as he covered up the Jag again like he was putting a baby to sleep. He knew that adoring look. It was the same one he got whenever he looked at his bike.
“I think you’re gonna get your money’s worth out of me,” Gunner teased, and Mike’s slow, lazy grin rewarded him.
“You know it, Mister,” Mike confirmed, and Gunner grinned right back. For the moment, at least, he was good. He really doubted that Chad would find him here, no matter how hard he looked.
In short, for the moment, life was good, as long as Gunner remembered his place and as long as he didn’t screw this up.
Throwing himself into work was the easiest thing in the world, and soon, Gunner lost track of time. The only thing that could pull him out of it was when he saw Sam wandering by, idly pushing a broom.
The guy seemed like he was lost in a world all of his own, far away from the shop. Sam didn’t belong here, but then, who was Gunner to talk? He and Sam were the same, really, because not only did Gunner not belong here, he was pretty sure he didn’t actually belong anywhere.
* * *
Sam drove them home, in a beat-up old car that Gunner was pretty sure should be falling apart at this point. The engine whined and growled at them, obviously not well maintained, and Gunner had to fight off the urge to roll his eyes.
“What? I’m sorry it’s not a damn Jaguar,” Sam huffed, apparently seeing Gunner’s look as the car rolled to a stop outside of the biggest old farmhouse that Gunner had ever laid eyes on.
“Come on, Sammy,” Gunner said, a smirk on his lips. “You work for a mechanic. Can’t you keep your car in better working order than this? It’s a mess. Like almost not safe to drive.”
“Don’t call me Sammy,” Sam protested, as Gunner had pretty much assumed that he would. It seemed to be a bit of a sore spot for him, and Gunner couldn’t actually say that he wouldn’t try to do it again. Call him that, get a rise out of the guy. He was just so easy to piss off, how was Gunner supposed to resist?
Especially because Sam looked at him, really looked at him, when Gunner teased him enough, which shouldn’t matter much at all, but somehow did. So yeah, it was a dick move, but he would probably just go ahead and keep on calling him
Sammy.
“Okay. Sorry,” Gunner told him, and he moved to get out of the car. Just before he shut the door, he added, “Sammy.”
He didn’t stick around to enjoy the other man’s scowl. He just gave him a friendly little wave through the window and then wandered off toward the front door, wondering just what all of that had been about. He was fully aware that he could be a bit of a brat, but he wasn’t usually quite this bad.
There was just something about Sam, with his clean hands and his superior attitude, that got under Gunner’s skin. That was really all there was to it. So he pushed the thoughts away and walked up to the front door, nerves gnawing at his guts like a dog with a bone. Speaking of dogs, Shadow almost knocked him down, having bounded straight out of the backseat of the car and now bouncing around Gunner.
Cute dog, even if his owner was a bit of a dick.
The door was pulled open by a young girl who looked somehow familiar to him, though it took a second for Gunner to place her. He had a good memory for faces, though, and he remembered seeing her being pulled out of the office of the repair shop by a gorgeous man with the bluest eyes that he had ever seen.
“Hi,” Gunner said, giving her a bit of a smile. Cute kid, even if she was looking at him like he might bite her head off. But what to say next? How much had she been told? Did she even know that he was coming to live in her house?
“Are you, Gunner? That’s a cool name,” the kid confided to him, and Gunner smirked a little and nodded.
“Yeah. Is Ben around?” He thought about asking about her dad, but honestly, he wasn’t even sure who that was. Ben hadn’t looked a lot like her, and the blue-eyed man who had been with her earlier did, so it was probably better not to make assumptions.
“Yeah. Ben! Gunner’s here,” she bellowed, with surprisingly strong lungs, into the house behind her. Seriously. How did someone so small get so much volume? It had to be some sort of superpower.
“Well then invite him in, Ruby,” came the familiar voice calling back. Sam came up behind him, and Gunner was pretty sure he could actually feel the glower which was aimed right at his back.
