Finding paper and pen in the small desk drawer across his room, he wrote down several phone numbers, including Fraser’s, and then shot his friend a quick text.
I have to ditch my phone. I’ll text you from a new one.
Okay, stay safe.
You too.
It was a struggle, but he managed to get his shoes on and dragged a heavy sweatshirt of Diesel’s out of the closet. If he called to change his number, everyone would want to know why. If he lost his phone, he could just ask for a new number when he got a new one. Yeah, that sounded crazy, but his fucked up panic made it sound reasonable. He silently opened his bedroom door and crept across the hall. He heard Diesel still on the phone.
Making his way to the back door, the clicking of Molly’s nails on the floor signaled she’d followed him. Perfect! He could take Molly to go potty. That wasn’t outside the norm.
They reached the end of the fenceless backyard, and he took the path leading into the woods.
Five minutes later, he was far enough out and threw his phone.
Molly’s ears perked up and she ran after it.
He called after her, “No, Molly! Let it go.” When she didn’t return, he took off after her. The rain had started, and he sighed. Just my luck. Rounding the small muddy path, he found Molly with his phone in her mouth. She brought it to him.
He took it and held her collar while he tossed it into the bushes nearby.
“Let’s go home.” He kept her from going after the phone again. Turning, the mud sucked at his feet and he slipped. Unable to catch himself because of his wrist, he prepared to hit the mud almost face first, but Molly was suddenly under him, and he only got wet from his knees touching the ground. He struggled while she pushed, and he heaved while Molly balanced him, and was suddenly back on his feet.
“Triton! Molly?” A shrill whistle hit the air and Molly pulled at her collar. He let her go to save himself from falling again. She bolted in the direction of the house.
“Triton!” Diesel’s voice boomed in the woods.
“I’m here.” He hobbled in the direction of Diesel’s voice before slipping and falling in the mud, this time on his ass, arms out. His tailbone hurt like hell. “Ouch!”
“Goddamn it!” Diesel reached him, lifted him to his feet, and looked him over.
“S-s-sorry.” His teeth chattered.
Diesel said nothing, and then the world tipped when he was lifted and swung into a fireman carry over Diesel’s broad shoulder.
“I’m getting you all muddy!”
“Shut the hell up before I lose my temper.”
His stomach turned sick. He was carried to the bathroom and gently set to his feet in the shower.
“Please don’t hit me!” He covered his face, cowering on the shower floor, curling into a small little ball. When nothing but silence followed his words, he finally ventured a peek through his fingers.
Diesel’s face was filled with sorrow and pain. “I’d never hit you. Ever. Hitting others is what fucking cowards do.”
Triton gasped, he couldn’t help it. A man as big as Diesel could use his fists to get ahead in life, but he didn’t. He had too much integrity.
How the hell had he forgotten that?
“That you would think that of me makes me sad.”
“I don’t. I’m sorry,” he sobbed, wiping at his cheeks, but making, he was sure of it, his face worse. “I don’t know why I said that.”
“You said it because that’s what you’re used to. What you expect, and until you change your expectations, you’re always going to be expecting the worst.”
“How do I change that?”
“With help. I’d suggest Vince.”
“Vince?”
“Yep, Dr. Vince Van Patton, the psychiatrist Doc Parson suggested, but I figured you’re going to say you don’t need that.”
He stared at Diesel in the growing silence. Saw the disappointment in the big man’s green eyes.
“I’ll go.” His heart thundered.
“I’ll call. Get cleaned up.”
He rolled to his hands and knees and then found himself lifted before the shower curtain was pulled in place.
“Hand your clothes through the curtain.”
“Can you help me with my shirt?”
The curtain was yanked back, and Diesel was helping him not only with his shirt, but with everything until he stood naked in front of the man.
Diesel stilled and Triton froze beneath the hungry look he saw on the other man’s face.
Cold, muddy, and miserable, his cock still rose beneath the heated gaze. He needed to feel those lips again.
“Diesel,” he breathed.
Diesel swallowed, his throat moved, and then a groan left the big man. Hands clenched at his waist as if Diesel was powerless over something.
Triton let his head fall back and lips part, and Diesel took his mouth.
He moaned into Diesel’s mouth, parted his lips further to let his tongue explore his. Diesel’s fist reached down and closed around his cock, bringing him to his toes.
“Oh, oh,” he breathed, his hips bucking, thrusting his dick through the man’s massive grip. Diesel toyed with him, teased him until he couldn’t think, and he splintered apart. A high-pitched sound left his throat as the world whitened out, and cum pulsed over Diesel’s fist. He came back to find himself resting against Diesel with large hands smoothing over his back.
“Easy, I’ve got you.”
Tears dripped from his eyes at the most intense orgasm he’d ever experienced.
“I lo-”
Diesel pressed a finger to his lips. “Hush.”
Triton swallowed back the words. His chest ached, and the tears fell faster. Diesel held him for a long time until he quieted.
Then, the soldier lifted a plastic bag from the counter, covered his cast, and gently brushed the hair from his forehead before leaving him alone.
Triton
Yawning, he slipped on a zippered sweatshirt over his clothes. Spring time in Oregon was so much colder than Texas, and he found himself chilled most of the time. Making his way into the kitchen the next morning, he cooked up some bacon and waffles.
His face heated at his total loss of composure in the shower the night before. It was Diesel’s fault for being so handsome. He smiled dreamily.
“Smells good.”
“It’s so easy to make.” His cheeks heated as he turned with two plates of food. Diesel looked mouthwatering wearing faded blue jeans, socks on his feet, and a black pullover stretched around his wide shoulders. Hurrying over, he placed the food on the table and slipped into a chair.
He popped a bite of bacon into his mouth and spoke around it.
“Breakfast or lunch person?”
Diesel’s brow pinched before he answered, “Both.”
Triton giggled. Some people claimed that food was the way to a man’s heart. He was of the mind that getting to know someone was the best way.
“Winter, summer, fall, or spring?” He smirked.
“Spring,” Diesel grunted and shoveled in several bites before catching on.
“Movies or books?” Diesel said.
“Books.”
That was it. Diesel dropped back into silence and the game died. Triton finished his food with a sigh. Diesel finished eating, quickly rinsed his plate in the sink, and left the kitchen.