Read 18% Gray Online

Authors: Anne Tenino

18% Gray (15 page)

BOOK: 18% Gray
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“Why do you call me that? And you’re the one pressing me up against you.”

“Call you what?” James didn’t loosen his grip any.

“Matty.”

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realize I did that.”

“’S okay. Kinda like it.” But no one else was calling him that. Matt shifted against James a little. He really was exhausted. “Can’t put my head back; your shoulder’s too low.”

James loosened his arm so Matt could scoot his butt forward and slouch down. Now his shoulder blades were butting against James’s pecs. His head was on James’s shoulder, and he couldn’t stop himself from turning his face into James’s neck.

Damn, he had it bad. This probably wasn’t smart, but it felt sooooo good. Comforting and warm. Matt sighed. He wrestled with himself a little. James seemed like a good guy now, but he’d seemed like a good guy for a brief period seven years ago. Who’s to say he wouldn’t turn on Matt again?

But maybe he wouldn’t. And right now, he was making Matt feel hypersensitive and hyper-relaxed at the same time. Languorous. And desirable. James’s fingers on his waist were gently stroking him, light movements that Matt thought James didn’t realize he was making. And did he just rub his stubbly chin against Matt’s hair?

This was a bad idea. Matt knew he was into this guy for far more than a quick (or a languid) fuck. He’d definitely had a thing for James in high school, and it had taken about .6 seconds for said thing to come roaring back once he ran into James again. About as long as it took James to jump out a Sorpacter chute and land on him, actually. Matt hadn’t even made James apologize. He
had
apologized, but Matt hadn’t demanded it.

Personal experience would argue that Matt was going to let James take him for a ride if he wanted to. And not just the happy, ride-’em-cowboy kind of ride. The tequila-and-cigarettes-wake-up-next-to-a-stranger kind of ride.

Didn’t matter. Matt knew what he was going to do. He never had been able to talk himself out of immediate pleasure by pointing out the possible long-term negative consequences.

He was going to let James seduce him. And then once James left Matt would go out with his cousins Sabine and/or Millie and they’d get him drunk, let him smoke until he puked, and then find him a convenient stud for a quick, emotionless servicing. That he wouldn’t remember in the morning (please).

Matt fell asleep, thinking about all the reasons why that was a good idea.

 

 

A
T
0400,
James stopped to re-administer the painkiller to Matt, and let the mare drink out of a stream. He could hear Matt moving around a little restlessly, propped up against a tree where James had set him.

“James?”

“Yeah?” He moved over to check on him. “Want some water? You should probably rehydrate.”

“Fuckin’ shoulder hurts.”

“You always this much of a whiner?”

“Pretty much.” Matt readjusted himself again, grunting. His head was rolling around against the tree. James could see Matt was having a hard time tracking him.

“Can you get on the horse yourself? Then I’ll dose you again?”

“I’m getting up and you’ll knock me out?”

“Just painkillers, no sedatives.”

“Same thing,” Matt grumbled. Something about it was so cute, James smiled. Matt stilled and stared at him dazedly a minute. Then he struggled to get up, James grabbing his upper arm to help. They hobbled over to the mare together. Matt looked at the horse blankly.

“Let’s get you up,” James said, when he got tired of waiting for Matt to move. Matt leaned his head against the horse’s withers. She swung her head around to whiffle at him. With lots of prodding, and putting Matt’s foot in a stirrup, James got him to swing up onto the horse.

And almost over the other side. “Shit!” He grabbed Matt’s waistband. Matt overcorrected (with his help, he had to admit) and started to fall back on James. Finally, James planted a hand on his ass and shoved. Gently. And maybe gave a little squeeze.

God he was a pervert. Matt giggled a little. James snorted a laugh, and swung up behind Matt, hypo-mister ready.

“Here, tilt your head back,” James prodded him. Matt leaned back, falling against his chest, resting his head on James’s shoulder. James put an arm across Matt’s middle to steady him.

“Mmmmm, you’re warm. And hard.” James froze for a second. “You have nice muscles, James.” Matt snuggled back into his chest, wiggling his shoulders.

Oh.
That
kind of hard.

“You’re loopy. Ready for this?”

“No, give me a minute—Gah! James, you bastard!” James had dosed Matt before he realized his head was being held down by James’s hands and the hypo-mister was up his nose. He figured getting it over with was the best approach.

Matt sneezed. James smiled to himself while he put the hypo-mister back in the saddlebag that held James’s pack.

“I can hear you smiling back there,” Matt growled at him.

“How can you hear that?”

“I couldn’t, but now I know you were.”

“Shit.” Oldest trick in the book.

They started out again, and after a minute, Matt gave in to his exhaustion and slouched against James. James wrapped his arm a little tighter around Matt. So he wouldn’t fall off, of course.

“After a performance like that, you better be a cuddler,” Matt grumped.

James was surprised to realize he just might be.

 

 

M
ATT
started to make real progress healing, resting, or sleeping nearly constantly. When James got him off the horse at dawn after their first night of travel, Matt stared blankly at the mare while James made a minimal camp.

“Problem?”

“We can’t keep calling her ‘the horse’,” Matt said in a dull voice.

“Huh?”

“You told me to take care of the horse. I’m taking care of her. She needs a name.”

“How about Horse?”

Matt raised both eyebrows at the horse. She snorted at him. “I don’t think she likes it.”

James stopped digging through the food stores and stared off into the distance a second. “Nope, not so much.” He didn’t make any other suggestions, though. Matt gave him a mini-glare. He couldn’t quite work up to the whole thing.

“Ask her if she likes ‘Miz Horse’.”

“You just did. She can hear you, you know.”

“Well then find out her answer,” Matt snapped.

“Fine with her. She’s hungry.”

“Oh, sorry, Miz.” Matt immediately shortened her new name. He fumbled a little getting her bit off, but the saddle could practically take itself off. It was really just a glorified saddle blanket with stirrups attached. He couldn’t find anything to comb Miz Horse with, so he scratched his fingers through her hair where the saddle had been. She snorted and shook herself a little, then clopped away from Matt when she’d had enough of his clumsiness. “Hey!” Matt said to her. “Don’t ignore me.” She nickered softly, but didn’t stop. It almost sounded like a laugh.

James laughed. “She thinks you’re too slow.”

“She could just wander off. Do we have a halter for her?” Matt looked around blankly, as if one might be lying on the ground in front of him.

James gave him the far-off stare again. Then his eyes came back into focus. “She’s not leaving us.”

Matt shook his head and hid the saddle and bridle under a tree where aerial surveillance wouldn’t pick them up. Hopefully. “You don’t think it’s at all weird that you’re communicating with a horse? You can’t do it with people, can you? Not like that.”

James looked startled. “Yeah,” he said in surprise. “It is weird, isn’t it? Wasn’t really thinking about it, I guess.” He shrugged. “You want stroganoff or spaghetti and meatballs?”

“James. You talk to animals.”

“So do you.”

“Fine. Animals talk to you.”

“So, spaghetti and meatballs? You just had stroganoff the other night.”

“James.”

“Matt.” James looked at him, exasperated and a little anxious. “I don’t know what’s going on with my head. I can’t do a damn thing about it. I need to just keep it together until we get home.”

Matt held his eyes and walked over to where James was crouched down. “Sorry,” he said softly, placing a hand on his head. “I’ll shut up.”

“’K. Thanks. Which ones are the spaghetti and meatballs?”

“James, I don’t care. I’m not hungry.” He fell more than sat down. Matt was exhausted, even after sleeping most of the night. Albeit on the back of a horse.

“You hafta eat, Matt. The menders won’t work as fast if you don’t.”

“They’ll still work. I just wanna lay down.” He grabbed his pack to pillow his head and started to lie down. James grabbed it back, causing Matt’s head to hit the dirt. “Hey!”

James smirked. “Wasn’t done with that.”

“Start putting the important shit in your own pack! That one’s mine.” He tried for it again, but James’s reflexes and energy were better than Matt’s.

“You can have it after you eat.”

“I’m not gonna eat, dammit!” He knew it was stupid, but he wasn’t hungry, and now he was pissed off too.

“I’m going to hold you down and force-feed you if you don’t do it yourself.” Matt could tell by the look in James’s eye that he meant it.

He finally ate, grumbling the whole time, with James crouching beside him watchdogging every bite. When he was done, he got up, stumbled over to where James had put out his bag, and fell into it. He made sure he took his pack with him, giving James the evil eye. The bastard just quirked up one corner of his lips.

Fucker.

 

 

J
AMES
stayed up a while after full sunrise. He’d stretched the digi-camo over their sleeping bags, partly to block the light and partly to protect them from overhead SAIA.

Explaining to Miz what the perimeter alarms were was beyond him. Or maybe her. James didn’t set them up. Once he was sure she got that he wanted her to stay hidden as much as possible, and to notify him if she sensed anyone or anything coming, he lay down next to Matt. James snorted softly. First time he’d ever given guard duty to a horse.

But he needed sleep. While he could go at least another twenty-four before the situation got critical—especially since he was riding, not walking—James thought the benefit of a couple of hours was worth the risk.

It took him a while to puzzle it out. They weren’t in a particularly safe spot. Not even a cave, just a low group of boulders he’d stretched the digi-camo across in a wood of scattered pine, with willow brush and a small water source nearby. Miz had a small clearing she could crop grass from, but mostly she stayed under the trees as he’d requested. They were at most thirty kilometers from their last known position, and they were being tracked by SAIA and dogs and who knew what else.

So why did he feel sleeping was okay, now? Because he couldn’t sense any human presence right now other than theirs? His implant didn’t make him infallible. It wasn’t like he was some kind of wild animal, magically attuned to the world around him.

But he could sense those creatures. And none of them were giving any alarm. James closed his eyes and concentrated. He could sense a couple of small rodents nearby. And birds, maybe? It was all a kind of mental hum around him, background to the normal early morning forest noises. Mental input he took in subconsciously.

James fell asleep, trying to figure out what a spider’s brain waves might feel like. Or if he could even sense them.

Miz woke him up at 1330. He’d slept longer than he’d intended. Totally losing his edge. James shied away from thinking about how he could have fallen this far out of the habits of the past four years in just a few months. He stuffed it in the box with the other things he wasn’t going to think about right now.

He woke quietly, not opening his eyes or moving, just sensing. Miz wasn’t alarmed. None of the rodents or birds were particularly alarmed. Miz was just standing hear him, nudging him occasionally with her nose. “What?” James finally snapped at her.

She snorted at him indignantly. He rolled his eyes, turning away from her. “Sorry, Miz.” He was apologizing to a fucking horse. She nickered a little, and nudged him again. He turned around and patted her, concentrating on what she might be trying to tell him.

“Seriously?” James stared at her. “You woke me up because you’re
bored
?” She neighed and bobbed her head, nearly whacking him. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Fine, you can keep watch with me.” He picked up the rifle and stomped toward the stream, with Miz right behind him. She nickered at him happily.

He woke Matt up a few hours before sundown. Matt stared blearily around while James nagged him into drinking and eating. He wasn’t doing very well. With the meds and the nanos, he should be a lot better than this after thirteen hours of sleep.

“Let’s look at your shoulder, Matty.”

“Let’s not.”

“C’mon, I need to see. There shouldn’t be any danger of reopening an artery now. We have extra pressure patches now that we’ve got the mountie’s supplies, anyway.”

Matt stared at him balefully, but set down the cup he’d been drinking from as James crouched in front of him. Matt grabbed his hand for a second as James reached for him. “I think it’s bad, James.” James just squeezed his hand before disentangling it. He had to look; Matt knew that.

James unsealed Matt’s shirt, trying not to get distracted. His fingers lightly brushed Matt’s pale, smooth skin, pulling the sides of the shirt open. James could swear Matt shivered a little. Or maybe that was him. Distractedly, James pulled off the first pressure patch. It wrapped all the way around the deltoid and ball of Matt’s shoulder. After he pulled off the patch, he spent a few seconds tracing his fingertips down the smooth skin on Matt’s back.

Then he saw the wound, and nothing could distract him from that. “Holy living shit!” He was nearly shouting.
Way to keep the patient calm
.

“What?” Matt was staring straight ahead, into James’s neck, refusing to look down at the wound.

Matt’s shoulder was hamburger. Red, mostly healthy-looking hamburger, but raw and exposed. James could see his white collarbone peeking out. The wound was barely seeping blood, no gushers. It would need to be cleaned. The nano-menders and the time-release antibiotics James had given him helped keep it healthy, but he needed to get the dead tissue out.

BOOK: 18% Gray
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