Spark & Blaze (A Guns & Hoses Novel) (10 page)

Evan undressed quickly and ignored his still stiff cock that was persistently pointing toward his belly.

Go the fuck down!
Evan cursed his dick because it was still hard after he stood under the spray for several minutes.

Why am I hard from kissing Malone? He’s a fucking ‘he’! I like ‘she’s.’

Evan washed the sweat from the last call off his body because there is no way in hell he was sweating from pressing against Malone. That’s what he told himself and refused to believe otherwise.

Oh fuck!
Evan froze under the spray.
I’ve kissed Malone twice, now. He wrote off the last time, but what if he presses charges this time? Oh God!

Evan began to shake and couldn’t even be relieved that his dick wilted and his balls were trying to set up house in his stomach. Cold sweat broke out all over his body and even though the hot spray of the shower rain down upon him, Evan swore he still felt the stickiness.

Chapter Nine

“
He
y
rookie, you okay in there?” Flame’s voice echoed in the bathroom area.

The sound of Flame’s voice caused two simultaneous reactions: panic and relief. His relief was because Flame’s voice stopped the litany of thoughts that were bombarding him. Panic because Flame was gay and he was afraid his co-worker would detect that something was different with him. That he might actually be leaning over the fence from straight to gay.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Evan finally replied and hoped his voice was more believable than he felt.

“Okay,” Flame replied and Evan breathed a sigh of relief.

Finally feeling under control, somewhat under control, Evan stepped out of the shower and redressed in his somewhat sweaty jumpsuit. That feeling of control totally disappeared when he stepped from the bathroom area into the bunk room.

Flame sat on the bunk across from the one Evan had claimed. Thankfully his co-worker ignored the almost stumbling step Evan took upon seeing him. Evan walked to his bunk, draped his towel over the bar of his shift bed, and dropped his toiletry bag in his duffel before he plopped down on his bunk and met Flame’s gaze.

“I’m fine,” Evan lied and hoped Flame believed him.

“Okay,” Flame didn’t argue.

“So if you believe me, why do I feel like you don’t?”

“Malone took over for me once,” Flame replied with a randomness that threw Evan off guard. “We had a little girl who succumbed to smoke inhalation. I pulled her out of the burning house and she was still breathing. Shallowly, but still breathing when I handed her off to Malone,” Flame paused as if making sure Evan’s gaze was still locked onto his.

“She went into respiratory arrest less than two minutes after I handed her off. By the time Malone got her to the medics, she was in full cardiac arrest. Bethany died before the medics even had a chance to work on her.”

Evan was almost relieved to hear the story of the first child Malone lost. It made the man’s words of reassurance feel more real that he had done everything he could to do to save Charlie. It made Malone’s words that they had all been there, where he was now, ring all the more true. However, that didn’t stop Evan from commenting.

“And he dealt with it.”

“He did,” Flame said softly. “By trying to beat the shit out of me before he totally broke down.” Flame looked at him pointedly. “Much like I am sure you did to Malone.”

“I blamed him right before I sexually assaulted him,” Evan admitted even though he never intended to mention attacking Malone’s mouth with a desperation he had never felt before.

Evan braced himself for whatever Flame might say. He knew that whatever came out of his co-worker’s mouth wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Evan, who was male, sexually assaulted Malone, who was also male. Still, that didn’t stop Evan from tensing in preparation to what Flame might say.

“Are you sure it was assault?” Flame asked.

Again, Flame’s words caught Evan off guard. It was not what he expected Flame to say and by the patient look on his co-worker’s face, Flame knew it and was giving him time to relive the encounter and analyze it before he answered.

Evan did just that. By forcing his own emotions out of the way, Evan remembered his encounter with Malone objectively. Malone didn’t fight him off when he attacked the man’s mouth and clutched at him desperately. No, instead Evan remembered Malone’s gentle touch, pulling him closer. Not only closer, but absorbing everything Evan gave him; absorbing and returning the desperation for closeness that Evan now realized he not only felt, but needed.

Malone clutched him almost as hard as he had touched the man and the sudden realization that Evan wasn’t the only one who had gotten hard during the encounter almost made him gasp out loud. Evan knew that his eyes had gone wide at his realization, but thankfully Flame remained silent and waited for him to speak.

“I’m not gay,” Evan said softly and hoped the squeaky sound he heard in his voice was only in his head. “Malone isn’t either,” Evan quickly added before he looked away from Flame’s penetrating gaze.

“Doesn’t matter,” Flame replied quietly. “Sometimes it doesn’t matter when we find someone who can offer us the comfort we need.”

Evan’s eyes shot back to Flame’s blue gaze. “He might not see it that way. I still assaulted him. Again.”

Flame raised an inquiring brow, but Evan ignored it and let the silence stretch between them again. Finally, Flame spoke and Evan was relieved that his co-worker broke the silence.

“We’ve all been where you have been after losing a kid. And we’ve all been in Malone’s position.” Flame stood and looked down at him before he continued. “It’s all part of the job and whatever you think you did that was inappropriate, I doubt
anyone
would consider it assault of any kind.”

Flame rested a hand on his shoulder and gave a friendly and reassuring squeeze before he headed toward the door that led downstairs to the rec room. He turned to look over his shoulder before he disappeared down the stairs.

“I’m sure Malone will let you know if you crossed a line.”

With those words, Flame disappeared and Evan’s mind started to swirl again.

Brett was still standing on the driveway of the truck bay and wishing for the emergency tones to sound when Brostowski called out to him.

“You okay, Malone?”

No, I’m not. I’m so far from okay it’s not even funny.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Brett lied and was barely aware of his body enough to be thankful his raging hard-on finally subsided.

“You sure?” Brostowski inquired when he approached.

“Yeah,” Brett replied even though he knew it was total bullshit.

Carmichael had completely thrown him for a loop; totally fucked him up. The first time the rookie had kissed him, Brett racked it up to the newbie’s stressful shift. However, as much as he wanted to explain this most recent attack on his mouth as just a reaction to Carmichael’s emotional turmoil, he couldn’t.

The hunger he felt from the rookie was too raw, too all-consuming, to only be the result of emotional stress. Still, what other explanation was there? Carmichael was straight and even if he wasn’t, that was no excuse for Brett to take advantage of the man when he was having a breakdown.

“I don’t believe you, man,” Brostowski said seriously.

Brett wanted to be pissed that Brostowski was questioning his well-being, but he was too distracted by how Carmichael felt pressed against him. Too distracted by how the rookie tasted while his fingers scraped against Brett’s skin through the bunched up fabric of his jumpsuit. Brett’s cock attempted to react to the thought, but he forced it down. The last thing he needed was to sport a hard-on in front of Brostowski.

“I’m fine, really,” Brett reassured his co-worker and met Brostowski’s suspicious gaze head on.

“Did he fight much?”

Brostowski’s question was so unexpected that all Brett could do was blink. Carmichael didn’t get as aggressive or fight as much as Brett had when he lost Bethany. In fact, when Brett had blamed Flame for Bethany’s death, there was bloodshed. Brett had busted Flame’s lip before his co-worker was able to wrap him up in an embrace he hadn’t realized he needed. It was that embrace that was the catalyst for his breakdown. He remembered bawling his eyes out all over Flame, but he never attacked Flame’s mouth like Carmichael had attacked his.

“No,” Brett answered Brostowski and looked away quickly.

“But?”

Brett winced and had no doubt Brostowski saw his reaction. He had to force himself to look back at Brostowski.

“It turned sexual,” Brett admitted so quietly that he prayed Brostowski didn’t hear him. Of course, that was a prayer that went unanswered.

“And that bothers you?”

Fuck yeah, but not like you’re thinking and that’s the problem,
Brett thought and wished he had the balls to say exactly that.

Brett met Brostowski’s gentle gaze and felt like his co-worker already knew all of his secrets. Like he already knew about the ironclad closet door that Brett had welded shut.

“Yes,” Brett found himself answering honestly and flinched at his admission.

Brostowski stared at him for several minutes before he spoke again. Those moments of silence that stretched between them tempted Brett to fidget. However, he resisted the urge and waited for what his co-worker was going to say.

“Does it bother you because he’s straight or because of the closet you are hiding in?”

Brostowski calling him out on his orientation was like being doused with ice cold water after he was overheated from walking through a desert. They had worked together for three years and Brett knew he had never given anyone reason to believe he was gay. Then again, until a year ago, neither had Brostowski or Flame. Still, Brostowski’s question spiked panic in him and Brett fought off the attack he could feel building in his chest. The fight was for naught.

Brett pushed past Brostowski; they were that close, and headed into the truck bay. He had no idea where he was going. All he knew was that he needed to get away from Brostowski who was forcing him to crack open the closet door that he had studiously locked shut.

He made it as far as where his bunker gear rested limply on a hook before he collapsed on the bench. Brett’s breathing was way out of control and his rational mind knew he was in the midst of a full-blown panic attack. Still, he could do nothing to get his body under control.

“Bend over, head between your knees,” Brostowski’s voice barely registered when Brett felt a hand between his shoulder blades urging him to lean forward. “You know the drill,” Brostowski’s soft voice matched the gentle touch between his shoulders. “Down you go, Malone.”

Brett allowed Brostowski’s touch to bend him over until his head was even with his knees. The panic he felt was so overwhelming that Brett couldn’t even be embarrassed. He felt Brostowski rubbing circles between his shoulder blades and the gentle motion of the man’s hands helped him get his body under control. Under control enough to finally be embarrassed and realize he’d inadvertently opened his closet door just enough for Brostowski to slip inside.

“Fuck!” Brett uttered on a whispered breath.

“You’re okay, Malone,” Brostowski reassured him quietly. Brett didn’t feel okay. In fact, he felt the furthest thing from okay even if he didn’t know a word for it.

“Hey,” Brostowski said, but Malone felt that one word like in order. Brett didn’t want to look up at his co-worker, but could not stop himself from doing so.

“I know what the walls of a closet feel like, shit, what they look like from the inside,” Brostowski spoke gently as if he was afraid someone might overhear his words and for that Brett was thankful. “But, it’s really not that scary out here,” Brostowski echoed Tig’s words.

Brett knew Brostowski was talking about being open about his sexuality, but Brett was so used to keeping that part of himself separate from work, that he wasn’t sure he could even envision a life that wasn’t separated. He was gay. He admitted that and knew there was no question about his orientation. Plain and simple. Still, his sexual life was something so totally different from every aspect of the rest of who he was and what he did, that he just couldn’t imagine the sexual side of himself merging with the rest out in the open.

“I can’t tell you what to do,” Brostowski started. “Shit, I never thought Flame was gay and resigned myself to loving a straight guy who would never feel the same way about me.” Brostowski chuckled, but Brett didn’t hear a hint of humor in the sound.

“Then, lo and behold, my best friend who I was almost literally dying to fuck, fell for the guy he’d hated his entire life.” Brostowski snorted around a grin. “Shit, I never had an inkling that he or Tig were even gay.”

Brett stared into Brostowski’s open expression the entire time he shared the details about the shit that went down between him and Flame last year. He didn’t have a reply to offer and Brostowski didn’t seem to expect one.

“We all live in our own closets. We have our doors locked for various reasons. Those reasons are justified,” Brostowski continued. “But, we give more weight to those justifications than the rest of society. Most people don’t give a flying fuck.” Brostowski grinned. “Coming-out can be hard. It’s a personal choice and one that only you will know when you are ready to make,” Brostowski paused. “Brett, you have friends that understand and will be here when you’re ready. Until then, your secret is safe with me.”