by Ashton Cade
“Hey, are you—guys?” Caleb calls, brows furrowed, not taking his eyes off me. “Tanner?” he calls again a note of panic in his voice. I’m glad he can talk, all I can do is gulp for air like a fish on land.
“What’s—”
“Shit.”
Tanner and Hunter appear in the pantry doorway at the same time, but only Hunter knows exactly what’s happening. Of course he does.
“Let’s get him out of there,” Tanner says, seeing the signs, but not putting it all together.
“Is it in your jacket?” Hunter asks, and I manage a nod as the other guys hoist me out of the crawlspace. Tanner’s telling me to take slow, deep breaths, but my throat is too tight to let it happen. The world goes fuzzy around the edges, and I’m grateful for the solid ground under me, the two guys propping me up.
But it’s the angel with my inhaler that I’m really grateful for.
It takes a few minutes, but the medicine works pretty fast to expand my airways and soon I’m able to take those long, deep breaths. Soon, I feel almost normal again.
“You okay?” Caleb asks, still looking more worried than the rest of them. Hunter and Tanner are no strangers to oxygen deprivation in their line of work, and Hunter looks more annoyed than worried.
“Yeah… It’s a little danker down there than I expected, I guess,” I mutter, feeling coming back to my fingertips.
“You dummy. One of us without asthma could have gone down there,” Hunter says, eyes narrowed at me.
“Yeah, hindsight,” I answer, slowly pulling myself to standing. Four people is about three too many for this pantry to accommodate, and the cramped quarters aren't helping anything. “You know it’s not usually that bad.”
“Do you want water or anything? Something stronger? Are you sure you’re okay? I didn’t know or I never would have asked you to—”
“I’m fine,” I tell Caleb before he can trip over himself. Even after a year here, I get the inkling he’s not sure we fully accept him. He’s waiting for us to find some reason to cast him aside.
“Did you bring the bike here?” Hunter asks. He looks at me for half a second before rolling his eyes. “Of course. Too nice a day not to. All right, I’m taking you home.”
It’s not a question.
“Yeah, take it easy, if you need anything, let us know,” Caleb says, still looking like I’m on my deathbed.
It was just an asthma attack. I’ve had them before. I generally have the condition pretty well managed with daily medication and a rescue inhaler, but the mold problem at my apartment is exacerbating things.
“Guys, I’m fine, really, I—”
“You’re going home,” Hunter emphasizes, steering me out of the kitchen. Is he just being pushy because of the asthma attack or is something else going on here?
Either way, I don’t have the energy to fight them, especially as outnumbered as I am. I say a quick goodbye to everyone with Hunter, and he ushers me into his truck.
The moment we’re alone together again I feel tongue-tied. I don’t know what to say.
“What were you thinking?” Hunter snaps once we’re on the main road. For a minute there, I thought he might let this ride go in silence, but no. I should’ve known better.
“Is this about the crawlspace?” I ask, against my better judgment.
“What else would it be about? Are you okay? I haven’t had to run for your inhaler in a long time.”
I sigh. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I answer, a broken record. “You know how my apartment is. The mold’s back, but the landlord won’t do anything, and Jack’s tuition just went up again, I swear he’s never going to get that degree—”
“I thought he already graduated?”
“He’s getting a Master’s now,” I say, trying not to sound bitter. I promised my little brother I’d help him achieve his dreams. I couldn’t afford to go to college without the GI Bill, but I didn’t want him to have to put his life on the line for an education.
So I’ve got the cheapest apartment in all of Gateway, and I send whatever I can to Jack’s school.
I hope with the cold weather on the way, some of the mold will die off, but that’s probably wishful thinking. It’s coming from other apartments now, so even when I do everything I can in my place, the air quality is awful. Moving just isn’t really an option for me right now, so I need to remember my limitations.
“I’m sorry I never called or anything,” I blurt out.
Hunter gives me a lopsided smile and a half a shrug. “Me too. We’re good though, right?”
“Yeah, of course.”
We spend the rest of the drive with the windows down, bathing in the fresh mountain air. It’s nice to just spend time with him like this. He’s the one guy I know always has my back. With him, I can actually relax and let my guard down. I sink into the passenger seat, close my eyes, and focus on breathing.
Time flies when you let your guard down. It seems like I hardly have time to blink before we’re at my apartment, Hunter’s parked the truck, and I’m reaching for the door.
“Wait,” he says, reaching across the cab covering my hand with his. He leans in and gives me a kiss that starts out quick, but lingers, slow to end.
“You know I’m here for you, no matter the status of this, right?” he says, gesturing between us. My face is hot, heart beating fast, and for the second time in one day, I’m feeling breathless, but this is different.
I force myself to take a long, slow breath anyway, then nod, reaching for the door again.
“Yeah, of course. Me too. Thanks for the ride.”
“Anytime,” he smiles back, not leaving the parking lot until I’m inside.
Chapter 2
Hunter
The sight of Holly’s bar is a very welcome one after the last couple of weeks I’ve had. I feel like it’s been forever since I stepped foot in this place—truly, it’s been about a month since the last time, when Jared and I left together—and I’m ready for some downtime with friends.
A late-season call took me and Tanner down to Oregon for over a week, but I think we’re really done for good this year now. As much as I enjoy my work, I’ll be glad not to have to jump out of an airplane for the next six months or so.
Walking into Holly’s is the same as ever, and Jared’s already at the bar waiting for me. He’s the one that sent the text telling me to come out tonight, but he’s all alone. Guess the others aren’t here yet.
“Hey, how’s it going?” I ask, sliding onto the barstool next to him. “Others on their way?”
He shakes his head. “Just the two of us,” he says, turning his pint glass in his hand. “That okay?”
“Yeah, of course. Everything all right?” It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen him, since that asthma attack that scared the shit out of me. He hasn’t gotten one that bad in a while, and I know he was trying to play it off, but it was worse than he was letting on. His lips were going blue by the time I got his inhaler to him.
But Jared’s no different from the rest of us. We all want to pretend our problems don’t exist, or that if they do, they’re simple enough to tackle on our own. I can tell something’s off with him right away, though. You know someone as long as we do, it’s just natural to sense these things.
“Yeah… I’m glad you’re back,” he says something in his voice I can’t quite place. I’m getting more worried that there’s something serious going on with him when Holly comes over with a beer for me.
“Have a good trip?” she asks.
I snort. “Oh yeah, great views of smoke-filled skies, the best ground-sleeping you could ask for.”
She rolls her eyes and waves me off. “Jackass,” she mutters, waltzing away with a little smirk.
“How bad was it?” Jared asks.
I shrug. It’s a fine line to walk between telling the truth and keeping him from worrying too much.
“Nothing remarkable,” I admit. “Winds shifted on day four and left us in a hairy situation for a bit, b
ut we got through it. We always do.”
Jared takes a long drink of his beer. “Yeah.”
I nudge him with my elbow. “What’s going on? Are you sure everything’s all right?”
It’s so hard to read his expression when he’s got his guard up like this.
“You wanna dance?” he asks, instead of answering me. There’s layers to the question. I hear it in his voice; it’s not just dancing he’s asking for. Whatever’s going on with Jared, he’s reaching out to me, searching for a lifeline. I drink down my beer in one gulp and grab his hand, hopping off the stool.
Holly’s doesn’t really have a good dancing spot, but like every dive bar, when someone gets drunk enough to decide they wanna dance, people just kinda work around them. I don’t think either one of us is all that drunk, but it’s not long before our dancing turns more to grinding. I’m not one to care about making a public spectacle of myself, but Jared’s the chief of police in this town, he’s got a reputation to uphold.
“Why don’t we get out of here?” I suggest, the dark desire in his eyes impossible to miss.
“Yeah, let’s,” he agrees. He’s quick on the draw with his wallet, fishing out a couple of bills to leave for Holly—more than enough to cover both our tabs and a good tip—then grabs my hand, pulling me behind him like the building’s on fire.
But it’s not the bar that’s smoldering and steaming. As soon as we’re outside, Jared pulls me to the side of the building, dark swallowing the space between this one and the next. His mouth is on me in an instant, his body pressing me into the siding, crushing me, kissing me, trapping me. I can feel his erection pressing into me, his hips grinding against me, hands moving down my body. For a second, I think Jared’s really going to try to fool around in the alley outside Holly’s, but then a few guys come out the front, talking about one of their ugly wives and we both freeze.
Getting caught is the last thing he needs. Most people in Gateway don’t have a problem with the Chief being gay, but they do have some reservations about him being so young. We don’t need to add fuel to the flames when it comes to people thinking he’s reckless and irresponsible. Especially since he’s one of the least reckless and most responsible people I know.
“Come home with me,” I say, grabbing his hand once the voices have faded.
As is tradition, the solitary stop light in Gateway is red when I pull up.
“Just run it,” Jared says.
“What?” I snort.
“This light takes forever and no one’s coming, just—”
“You’re a cop. You can’t tell me to run a red light.”
“I can, and I am,” he says, the first hint of a smile I’ve seen all night.
“When I get pulled over, this is on you,” I mutter, looking both ways before lifting my foot.
“No one’s sitting out here waiting to catch you. They’re on speed traps up in the mountain.”
“Insider info, huh?” I tease.
“Hunter, go,” he says, squeezing my thigh.
I look up and the light’s changed while we were arguing about it.
This time when we head in, we both go right to the bedroom. I practically trip over Winnie, and I can hear Angel squawking and raising hell against the bars of her cage. The animals will just have to wait a little longer. They’ll survive.
“I’ve wanted to do this again so bad,” Jared says, shedding his coat, kicking out of his boots, both of us trying to strip in between kissing and groping.
“Me too,” I admit, heart racing. I was sure it was a one-time thing the first time, but now I don’t know. Could we do this? I want to, so bad.
I get my hand around his cock first, and he hisses, the sound one of complete and pure pleasure.
“Fuck,” he groans, so much tension melting out of him as my hand moves up and down his length, slow and steady. He drags me into a kiss, tongue invading my mouth, stealing my breath, leaving me dizzy with how rough and intense it is. This man doesn’t do anything halfway and I love it.
There’s a raw, primal need in his kiss, an unspoken plea for escape that tugs on my heartstrings. What’s going on with my best friend? I know he’s got a lot on his shoulders with the new job and everything, but he seems beyond stressed right now.
Luckily for him, I know one thing that always helps me de-stress.
Hand still stroking him, I slowly drop down to my knees, the air suddenly stiller, Jared not breathing as he looks down on me, waiting.
The huge groan he lets own when I lick his slit is the best encouragement I could ask for. Instantly, Jared’s hands are on my head, his fingers laced through my hair as I wrap my lips around him, tasting him, teasing him with my tongue.
“Holy shit,” he gasps, my lips pressed against the base of his thick cock. He’s a lot bigger in my mouth than I remember, but there’s nothing quite like the briny taste of a man, the way he responds to my every touch, whether it’s a voluntary reaction or not. My favorite are the little muscle twitches, when I pull all the way back and just stroke the underside of his cock, the whole thing jerks toward my touch, like it’s got a mind of its own.
That kind of power is a hell of an aphrodisiac.
The way he grips my head, the way his hips move, like he’s trying to keep himself from face-fucking me, it all makes it more. This man is on the verge of losing all his military-precision, police-chief control, over me. He’s right on the edge, his whole body tight and trembling with the effort of holding back. I can’t tell him to let go without ruining what I’m doing, so I use the only thing I’ve got at my disposal: my hands.
I cup his balls, teasing my way back over his taint, till I’m pressing one finger at his ass and all of Jared clenches up at once. I focus on licking and sucking, stroking his cock until he’s relaxing again, and then I curl that finger and press again. Jared’s fingers tighten on my scalp, holding me in place, keeping himself buried in my throat.
“Fuck!” he cries, a moment before his hot salty cum floods my mouth.
I’ve hardly pulled away before he’s collapsing back on the bed, breathing hard, his pants still around his ankles, not a hint of worry anywhere on his face.
Mission accomplished.
“I’ll be back in a few. Gotta do the whole nighttime routine,” I say, leaning over to kiss him, leaving him to catch his breath in my bed. Whatever it is, we don’t need to talk about it tonight. Maybe Jared will want to share his problems with me in the morning. If not, I’m still going to be here for him, like I always have been. Like I always will be.
By the time I make it back to bed, Jared’s curled up with a pillow fast asleep. I pull a real Indiana Jones move and manage to swap places with the pillow without waking him up, content to sleep off the worries of the day for now.
Angel’s the first thing I hear in the morning. Like most mornings. Like an over-excited toddler, my cockatoo wants to greet the day and spend time with his favorite person.
I never would have expected myself to be a bird person, but when Dr. Jana called me and told me Angel’s story, I couldn’t leave him to be forgotten. He was a bit of a wreck when I first adopted him, but after a few years he’s mellowed out, stopped pulling his feathers from anxiety, and is now a totally lovable pain in my ass.
He still doesn’t get to be my alarm clock, though. I never go down right away when he starts making a racket, or he’ll think that’s the way to get attention.
Besides, it’s not every day I get to lounge around with Jared Easton curled around me.
I can’t believe we did it again.
Once is nothing, a fluke, forgettable. Twice is a pattern. Twice suggests there will be a third time. More after that.
I don’t know if I’m more nervous or excited. I don’t know what we’re really moving toward here, if it’s anything at all, and I certainly don’t know how to have that kind of conversation.
As amazing as this all has been, keeping Jared in my life is more important than anything else. I don’t want to
do anything that could jeopardize that, no matter how great that something might be.
Scratching and whining at the door finally gets me out of bed. Winnie, my lab mix, hates being left out of the bedroom. It almost never happens, and when it does, she just cannot deal.
“Come on, but be quiet,” I whisper, opening the door enough for her to push past. She runs right in and jumps on the bed, right on top of Jared.
So much for that.
“Winnie! Get off him. I’m sorry,” I grumble, wrestling with the dog who now thinks this is playtime.
Jared’s bleary-eyed, blinking, trying to figure out where he is and what’s going on.
“Heya, pup,” he mutters, scratching Winnie behind the ear before rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “Morning,” he says to me, squinting against the sunlight, voice rough and raspy with sleep.
He’s never been sexier.
“Morning,” I answer back, leaning across the bed to give him a quick kiss without thinking. He doesn’t balk or pull away, and it makes me wonder again what we’re doing. But maybe we don’t need to name it.
“You hungry? I could make some breakfast.”
“And coffee?” he asks, hopeful.
I laugh. “Definitely.”
I get the coffee started before dealing with the animals. Angel perches on my shoulder while I make French toast, and Winnie hangs around at my feet, waiting for any scraps that might fall her way. I even see one of the cats briefly, but they’re pretty reclusive at the best of times, downright invisible when we’ve got company.
“Smells good,” Jared says, making himself a mug of coffee, taking a long, deep breath.
“Did you take your medicine?” I ask, suddenly remembering his asthma attack, that panic hitting me all over again.
“You mean the one I’ve taken every day for a decade?” he snaps, irritation, not playful teasing in his tone.
I frown, try not to take it personally, but I do. I can’t help it.
He sighs.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine—”
