Tag Team (17 page)

P
ROTECTED
from the harsh rays of the sun, Bobby sat beneath the large umbrella, sipping ice water as he watched Rig and Mason play
touch
football. They’d started out tossing the ball, which quickly advanced to touch, both men laughing one minute, cursing the next, as they tried to move quickly through the thick sand to avoid the other. Rig and Mason had competitive streaks, and the game was becoming something much more aggressive.

Bobby winced as Rig went down hard, face-first, into the sand. Old man was going to be sore later. It was a damn good thing Bobby had packed the muscle rub. He’d thought it would be used after Rig’s vacation-time sexcapades and couldn’t help but snort thinking instead its use would be due to a game of football. Damn, he hadn’t seen that one coming. He bet Rig hadn’t seen it either.

Mason had profoundly changed Rig.

When Rig had talked about what he had planned to do on vacation, not once had he mentioned, cooking, cleaning, shopping, researching ways to cope with grief, therapy sessions with Max, or playing sand football. However, they’d done all those things over the last couple of weeks, and not once had Rig mentioned returning to the bonfire parties or asked to hit a club. Given Rig’s high-powered sex drive, this was telling of just how much Mason affected him. Rig seemed content to spend every day with the younger man. Some days they did nothing more than lounge in the sun, but there was a look on Rig’s face that Bobby hadn’t seen in seven years. A look Bobby hadn’t realized how much he’d missed until its return. It was the same awestruck expression that would light up Rig’s features when he looked at Stephen.

Rig wasn’t the only one who had changed.

As Bobby continued to watch the two men running, their muscles flexing and bulging with the exertion, it wasn’t because he wanted to be rolling around with those two hot and sexy bodies; sand in his crack was not appealing. However, it wasn’t fucking, pain, submission, or domination that was on his mind as it would normally be. Did he want those things with the men before him? Hell yes, but it wasn’t the foremost thought on his mind. Instead the first thing he thought was how he could see himself waking up with the two of them, cooking for them, caring for them, and not just while on vacation, but always.

“Christ, you are going soft, old man,” Bobby mumbled under his breath.

Mason rushed past Bobby’s chair, Rig right on his heels. From the menacing growl Rig emitted and the deep scowl on his face, he wasn’t as amused as Mason was. “Better watch it, boy, I do believe you have poked that bear enough,” Bobby called out.

Mason’s steps faltered, and he looked over his shoulder toward Bobby. It was brief but enough to allow Rig to grab him around the waist and tackle him to the ground. The football went flying in one direction and the two combatants in another. Bobby began to chuckle until he heard Mason’s pain-filled yelp, and he was up and out of his chair in seconds, rushing toward them.

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Mason howled and rolled away from Rig and grabbed his left leg.

Rig went to his knees and reached out for Mason just as Bobby made it to them, but Bobby slapped Rig’s hand away. “Where does it hurt?” Bobby asked, concerned.

“Knee,” Mason gritted out.

“Shit! Sorry, Mason,” Rig apologized sincerely.

Mason was covered in sand, but Bobby saw no signs of blood, nor did the knee look deformed. He ran his hands carefully over the area, feeling for bumps or abnormalities, and was relieved to find none.

“Can you bend it?” Bobby asked.

Mason stopped writhing, but his expression was pained, eyes closed tightly and jaw clenched as he moved his knee. Rig went to his feet but hovered close as Bobby continued to check Mason out, Rig’s expression nearly as distressed as Mason’s.

“Is he okay?” Rig nodded toward Mason’s knee and asked, “Anything broken?”

“I don’t think so.” To Mason, Bobby said, “You want to try and stand on it?”

“Not really,” Mason grumped but allowed Bobby and Rig to pull him to his feet. “Shit,” he hissed when he tried to put pressure on his leg.

“Grab a side,” Bobby instructed.

Rig went one better and scooped Mason up into his arms, cradling him like a baby. “Let’s go,” he grunted, ignoring both Bobby’s instruction and Mason’s protest, and stomped off toward the house.

“This isn’t necessary,” Mason assured him.

Bobby had seen that look on Rig’s face enough times to know where his head was. Rig was intense when wielding a whip or flogger. He could inflict pain, beyond what some were comfortable with, but Rig never did it outside a controlled environment or without a purpose. Knowing that he’d caused Mason unnecessary pain no doubt was bothering him.

“Might as well relax and enjoy the ride,” Bobby chuckled. “He’s in full papa-bear mode.”

Rig snorted, walking quickly through the sand, easily carrying the smaller man up the stairs and to the house. “Hey, mama bear,” he tossed over his shoulder as he stepped on the porch. “You mind getting the door?”

“Guess that makes you Goldilocks,” Bobby teased and mussed Mason hair as he stepped by and opened the door.

“I feel more like a baby bear,” Mason griped.

“Sorry, you’re stuck with Goldi. Not enough hair to be a cub.”

Mason rolled his eyes at Bobby, and from the way he was biting his lip, Bobby figured he was fighting the urge to stick his tongue out, which caused Bobby’s grin to grow.

Mason’s feet barely touched the ground while Bobby held him as Rig rinsed the sand and sweat from his body. Rig instantly reclaimed his hold on the younger man, helping him dress in a pair of loose gym shorts. Mason looked to Bobby for help, but he could only shrug and mouth “sorry.” Rig would not be swayed until he was satisfied in his own head he’d made it up to Mason by doing everything he could to help. Finally, Rig set Mason down carefully on the couch.

“You got that ice pack?” Rig asked, holding out his hand.

“Rig, I just jammed it a little when I fell. Honest, I’m okay,” Mason tried again.

“That doesn’t look like nothing,” he muttered, pointing to the dark bruise that was already visible on Mason’s knee. He took the ice pack from Bobby and set it across Mason’s knee, scowling when Mason jerked from the cold.

“Jesus, Rig. Would you calm the hell down? He’s fine. Now go take a shower,” Bobby chastised and shoved Rig toward the hallway.

Rig continued to stare at Mason until Mason smiled and repeated for what felt like the hundredth time, “I’m fine,” before Rig finally left his side and went to clean himself up.

“Wow, he’s a little—”

“Overwhelming?” Bobby laughed and carefully slid onto the couch, nestling Mason’s head in his lap.

“That’s an understatement,” Mason giggled. “Damn, I can’t even imagine what he must be like when he’s in Dom mode.”

“Actually, Rig is always very composed in a scene. Intense, yes, but every move or thought is controlled. This—” Bobby waved a hand unsurely, “—is his I’m-so-sorry-I-hurt-you-let-me-make-it-up-to-you crazy man kind of shit.” Bobby ran his fingers across Mason’s cheek and smiled. “He only does this when he really cares about someone.”

Mason pushed into Bobby’s touch and smiled back. “I like it,” he admitted quietly. “One part of me is ashamed that I feel that way, the other part is jumping for joy. Not just for Rig’s attentions but for yours as well.”

“Why ashamed?”

Mason looked away, a thoughtful expression crossing his features as if he were choosing his words carefully. “It feels like cheating,” Mason murmured so low Bobby was barely able to make out the words.

“You mean you feel as if you’re cheating on Gregory and Charles?” Bobby asked gently.

Mason nodded, still staring off toward the opposite wall.

Bobby ran a hand across his jaw and back to his neck, rubbing at the muscles that began to tighten. Fuck, he knew that feeling all too well. He’d experienced it, and there was no worse feeling than feeling as if you were cheating on a dead loved one. Bobby sat quietly thinking about how to approach the subject. On one hand he knew it wasn’t cheating, yet on the other, it didn’t matter what you told yourself if the heart didn’t believe it. He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly before addressing Mason.

“I felt like that at first, when Rig and I first started talking about finding another sub to enjoy. I had no desire to replace Stephen, but I did miss having a boy to teach, guide, and care for. But you know what,” he asked, cupping Mason’s cheek and turning his head until their eyes met. “I finally had to ask myself, would I be happy if Stephen had been left alone with no one to care for him, love him? The answer was a resounding no! I’d hope that if I couldn’t be there, someone else would step in and take care of my boy for me. The thought of him being alone and hurting?” Bobby shook his head. “No way! And I also realized that Stephen wouldn’t want that for me. He would be heartbroken to know that Rig and I were living the rest of our lives in the past, mourning him and not living our lives to the fullest.” He gave Mason a small sad smile as his chest tightened. “He’d want us to be happy, and from what you’ve told me of your Doms, they would want you to be happy and well cared for like they cared for you.”

“I know…. It’s just….” Mason worried his bottom lip with teeth, his eyes a little glazed with unshed tears. “I miss them so much. I miss my routine. I miss knowing where my place in the world is, and I miss taking care of someone. But most of all, I miss just being held. Being loved.”

“C’mere,” Bobby encouraged and pulled Mason up on to his lap, careful not to jostle his leg too much, and wrapped him in a tight embrace. Mason buried his face in Bobby’s chest and sighed contently as Bobby held him and stroked a hand along Mason’s back.

“There is nothing wrong with needing to be held and loved, Mason,” Bobby murmured and kissed the top of his head. “We all need to feel connected to another human being. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with needing someone or leaning on them when you can’t quite stand up on your own,” he said adamantly.

“I just worry that I’m using you and Rig. Max too for that matter. My head is all messed up, and I don’t know if I’m feeling this for you and Rig because I’m sad and lonely or if I actually feel something more, ya know?” Mason lifted his head and met Bobby’s gaze unerringly. “I don’t like using people.”

“Rig and I have a lot of experience helping people find peace. It’s kind of part of the job of a Dom.” Bobby chuckled softly. “So how about you let us try and help you find some peace, a balance in your life with no promises for the future, hmm?”

“You would do that?”

“We already are, Mason, and we don’t expect anything in return except your honesty, okay?”

Mason tilted his head, studying Bobby for a long drawn-out moment before finally nodding his head just slightly. “Yeah okay. I can do that, but….”

“But what?” Bobby encouraged.

“I don’t know if I can call either of you ‘sir’ yet.” Mason lowered his eyes and fussed with the fabric of Bobby’s T-shirt. “And it felt a little weird to hear you call me ‘boy.’”

“You don’t have to call either of us sir, but the other one is going to be a little difficult. I will try my best not to call you boy,” Bobby promised.

“I don’t mind,” Mason said sheepishly without looking up. “It was just weird to hear it again.”

“Hear what again?” Rig asked, coming into the room in just a pair of shorts, running a towel over his hair.

“Our young Mason found it weird that I called him boy,” Bobby informed Rig.

Rig’s brow furrowed as he came around the couch and looked questioningly back and forth between Bobby and Mason. “You did?”

Mason nodded.

“Well, don’t call him that anymore,” Rig said easily and carefully lifted the ice pack from Mason’s knee, inspecting the injury. “Does it still hurt?” he asked Mason and then tossed the pack on the table when Mason shook his head. “If it starts to bother you again, we can re-ice it in an hour. You need to stretch out and keep your leg elevated.”

Rig sat on the couch, and Bobby noticed the Ace bandage in his hand. Oh yeah, Rig was in full papa mode, and although Bobby had to force down the laughter that threatened, he allowed Rig to pull Mason from his lap, until Mason’s head was once again in Bobby’s lap and his legs were resting on Rig.

“Is that really necessary?” Mason whined, the sound revealing how much the injury bothered him as Rig began to wrap it.

“Sorry,” Rig grunted when Mason winced. “I’m almost done, and yeah, it’s necessary. The compression bandage and keeping it elevated will keep the blood from pooling, which will diminish the inflammation.”

“Said Dr. Rig,” Bobby teased, for which Rig rewarded him with a glare.

Once the bandage was in place and Rig was convinced it wasn’t too tight, because he’d asked the poor man enough times, Rig sat back, but his eyes stayed on Mason’s knee.

“Thank you. It feels much better.” Mason sat up and placed a small kiss on Rig’s cheek. “It was an accident and you’re forgiven.”

Rig’s face turned a lovely shade of pink as it finally set in how nuts he’d been, his lips curling into an embarrassed grin, and he shook his head. “Lay down. You’re supposed to have it elevated,” Rig said gruffly but he was still smiling.

Mason happily did what he was told and winked up at Bobby once he was stretched back out.

“So what were you talking about? How to get rid of me?” Rig accused.

“On the contrary,” Bobby said. Rig looked at him in surprise, but Bobby just shook his head. “I’ll fill you in later. How about for now I call and order us a pizza and we can check out what’s on TV?”

“Sounds good to me,” Mason agreed. “Anything but anchovies.”

Rig was still looking at him with a strange expression, and Bobby mouthed “later,” then smiled to let him know everything was fine, before he pulled out his cell. “Please tell me you know the number,” Bobby groaned, not wanting to get up.

Mason rattled off the number quickly, and Rig flipped on the TV. As Bobby dialed the number, it hit him again how strange it was that he wasn’t disappointed the day would end without two hot sweaty bodies rolling around with him, but how perfect a night snuggled on the couch, watching TV and eating pizza, with these two men sounded.