Drowning in You
By
A.R. Moler
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are
products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to
be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales,
organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Drowning in You
Copyright© 2012 A.R. Moler
ISBN: 978-1-60088-739-0
Cover Artist: Louisa Gallie
Editor: Devin Govaere
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced
electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of
brief quotations embodied in reviews.
Cobblestone Press, LLC
Chapter One
Fingers drummed restlessly against the steering wheel as DEA
Special Agent Declan Foster watched the early evening sun slant across
the street in front of him. He and his partner had been on a surveillance
for the past three hours, taking photos and watching the people that
flowed in and out of a low-income apartment block. Beside him, the little
electronic shush-click of the digital camera went off again.
‚How many does that make this hour? Seven? This place could
give Grand Central a run for its money,‛ griped Matt Pulaski. Pulaski was
a tall lanky red-haired East Coaster who had transferred to San Diego a
little over three months ago.
‚Eight,‛ replied Declan.
‚Huh? Oh, yeah, you’re right, I forgot about the dubious pizza
delivery guy. I give it only a fifty-fifty chance that pair of boxes actually
had pizza in them. On the other hand, even drug dealers gotta eat.
Speaking of which, I’m hungry, and we’ve got another whole hour until
our relief gets here.‛
‚In the meantime, I’ll have to listen to you,‛ said Declan.
‚What? I’m supposed to sit here in dead silence listening to the
traffic go by? Next time I’ll bring a crossword puzzle and you can take the
pictures,‛ Matt replied.
‚Nuh huh, then I have to listen to you bitch about the ones you
can’t figure out.‛
Matt flipped him the middle finger then snapped another photo of
the man standing near the front of the apartment building. A moment
later Matt’s cell phone chirped, and he dug it out of his pocket. ‚Hey,
Kenny, you ready for bed?‛ he asked. ‚No, I haven’t forgotten. Fish food
on Wednesday<Nope, I haven’t seen it<Yes, I did look under your bed.
You can look when you’re there<Okay, sleep tight. I love you, Kenny.‛
He thumbed off the phone.
‚I’m really hoping that your kid isn’t keeping his fish under the
bed,‛ said Declan.
‚Huh? No. Fish are in the tank; Bionicle feet are under the bed in a
plastic box, or at least that’s where they’re supposed to be.‛
Declan was finally getting used to Matt rattling on about his son,
even if the whole being a parent thing baffled him. He knew that the only
reason Matt had moved to San Diego was to maintain joint custody of his
four-year-old son after a fairly nasty divorce from Maria—that woman, as
Matt occasionally referred to her.
‚What’s a bion-kull?‛
‚Bi-on-i-cle. It’s this half-alien, half-robot-looking guy made by
LEGO. They come in about sixty pieces and have to be put together.
Kenny swore he had to have one. Now I’m thinking I should have waited a
little longer because he’s only four, and he always seems to be missing
pieces.‛ Matt pointed toward the building. ‚Oh, hey, gray sweatshirt guy
came back out.‛
Declan made some mental notes on the man he was watching. The
guy was black, mid-twenties, had a shaved head, and the jeans he wore
were at least three sizes too big. ‚I’m thinking he’s one of the mid-level
guys. He doesn’t seem to be in and out anywhere near as much as some of
the others. He’s getting in a car. I’m gonna follow him.‛
‚What? I thought we were just supposed to be doing surveillance,‛
Matt protested.
‚I’ve only seen this guy like three times so far. I think he might be
going to fetch more product.‛ Declan picked up the radio. ‚Two, this is
six. I’m following one of the suspects from the building. He just drove off
in a dark blue SUV with plates reading SDR7458.‛ He started the car and
pulled away from the curb.
‚Six, maintain distance and document any place he goes then get
back to your assignment,‛ the voice over the radio responded.
‚Are you going to get us in deep shit with Groseman? I do not want
disciplinary action letters put in my file,‛ said Matt.
‚Chill. The group you were with in D.C. may have been run by
some petty dictator, but Groseman’s flexible. As long as we get the
information, he’s okay with running on a possible lead.‛
Matt looked unconvinced.
Matt had to give Declan a little credit. The agent kept a fairly
careful six to eight car lengths between them and the car they were
following. Declan even let another car in between for better than a mile.
‚Do you have the slightest idea where this guy is going?‛ Matt
asked. He cast a dubious eye at his partner. The man was six feet of hard
ripped muscle with short dark hair and a face that could have graced a
modeling agency ad.
‚No, but I will say we’re heading out of the projects area and
toward one of the business districts at the moment.‛
‚You think we’re looking for a store as a distribution point?‛
‚Maybe,‛ Declan said.
‚It might be the pizza place,‛ suggested Matt.
‚Yeah, it could.‛ The car ahead of them pulled over and parked
along the street. Matt scanned the business fronts. No pizza places were in
sight. Suddenly the man in the gray sweatshirt glanced back and took off
running.
‚Aw fuck, we’ve been made!‛ Declan snapped and bailed out of
the car. Matt took off a half dozen steps behind him.
It was a mad sprint down the block and into an alleyway. Declan
yelled, ‚DEA! Get down! Stop! DEA!‛
Matt veered around a car parked in the alley and made an attempt
to cut off the fleeing suspect. Declan, on the other hand, didn’t bother
avoiding the car and simply ran over top of it, feet banging loudly on the
roof as he went. Some days, Matt thought his partner was just bug-fuck
nuts.
The suspect raced out across the next street with Declan about three
yards behind him, both of them narrowly avoiding getting hit by passing
cars. Matt dove out of the way of the next car, rolling onto the sidewalk. It
took a couple of seconds to scramble to his feet. He saw the suspect take a
sharp left, and Matt took off up the street to the next cut-through.
He pounded his way down the nearest alley and came out ahead of
the fleeing man. The suspect slowed and glanced back toward where
Declan was quickly catching up. A hand was reaching toward his pocket.
Matt pulled his gun.
‚DEA! Hands where I can see ’em! Now!‛ Matt shouted.
‚Down on the ground!‛ yelled Declan. He shoved the suspect
down and pinned him there with a knee as he cuffed him.
Matt jogged the remaining few yards. ‚Could we please not play
chicken with the speeding cars next time? You about gave me heart
failure.‛
‚You’re slow. Oh, and you’re bleeding all over your gun,‛
commented Declan.
‚What?‛ Matt glanced down and saw blood oozing down his
forearm. He twisted it up for a look and observed a good two-inch square
of badly abraded skin on the back of his arm where he’d rolled across the
pavement.
Declan was busily patting down the suspect. ‚We have one bag
with about an ounce of what looks like heroin, one .38 Special, about three
hundred dollars in cash, and no ID.‛ He handed the items to Matt and
roughly hauled the suspect to his feet.
‚Were you delivering or going for a pickup?‛ Declan demanded.
‚I ’s going to buy some beer.‛ He stared at the ground.
Matt noted the sneakers the guy wore were the type that cost over
two hundred dollars, but the flashy gold ring on the man’s hand was
definitely a cheap imitation.
‚And buying beer makes you take off running when the feds tell
you to stop. Don’t give me crap. We saw you leaving the apartment
building on Delaney Street. We know there’s dealing going on there. Were
you delivering or picking up?‛
‚I wanna lawyer,‛ the man demanded. His tone was a cocky snarl.
Matt rolled his eyes. ‚Great. Dude, I bet you have a rap sheet and at
least one outstanding. If you give us some information, we might cut you
loose.‛
‚Ain’t sayin’ nothing.‛ A little smirk curved his mouth. The man
obviously thought he’d skate through the system with minimal hassle.
Declan began pushing the suspect back in the direction they had
come. ‚You have a couple minutes to think about your decision while we
walk back to our car and call for a pickup. You’re gonna get charged with
possession, and I’d be willing to bet that gun isn’t registered.‛
As they frog-marched the drug dealer back, Matt followed behind,
watching his partner as much as the suspect. Foster’s short dark hair
hinted at being really curly if it was longer. He had the wide powerful
shoulders and narrow hips that supported the fact he was an avid
swimmer and surfer. Matt had spent way too many hours surreptitiously
studying the man’s face also. The square jaw and narrow chin with that
stupidly cute little dimple drew Matt’s attention more often than he
would like. The angles of Declan’s face complemented the narrow, slightly
aquiline nose. If only the guy wasn’t borderline psycho<
‚Yo! Matt! Are you awake back there?‛
Matt belatedly realized Declan was talking to him. ‚Yeah, I’m
awake.‛
‚Our esteemed suspect here is having second thoughts about
cooperation. He claims he was heading for a pickup.‛
‚Where?‛ asked Matt.
‚Over toward Chula Vista.‛
‚Okay and what does this pickup entail?‛ Matt pondered the
location mentioned, but it meant nothing to him other than a name on a
map. He hadn’t really had much time to get a feel for how the city was
laid out.
‚They’s espectin’ me. I’m just runnin’ for the head guy. I’m s’posed
ta pick up twenty nickel bags,‛ the man said. His voice dropped a little,
and he shifted his feet nervously.
‚Are we talking weed or something else?‛ Declan asked.
‚Smack. My man don’t deal much weed. Not enough profit.‛
‚Twenty bags isn’t a whole lot for dealing,‛ Declan said.
‚Tha’s just today. Somebody’ll be running for more tomorrow. An’
there’s waitin’ going on for a shipment later this week.‛
‚Oh?‛ That caught Matt’s attention. ‚We definitely want to see
where this house is.‛
At the car, Matt angled the handcuffed drug runner into the back
seat, pushing the man’s head down under the door frame. When he was
done, Declan thrust a big square plastic box with a traditional red cross on
it into Matt’s hands.
‚I don’t want you bleeding all over my seats,‛ Declan said.
‚Gee thanks,‛ he said sarcastically. He opened the box and dug out
alcohol wipes, gauze, and tape. It took a couple of minutes to bandage the
deep scrape.
‚You can tell your kid Daddy got a boo-boo,‛ offered Declan as
Matt slid into the car.
‚Declan’s going to end up with a black eye if he sends his partner to
play in traffic again.‛
‚Wuss.‛
While Declan drove, Matt ran the runner’s thumbprint through the
system via a small electronic scanner. It came back as one Tevon
Jackson—arrested four times already, three for possession and one for
aggravated assault. None of those were major offenses alone, but together
they added up to three years of time served. Another possession charge
would definitely carry some more jail time, and the firearm was a whole
separate issue.
The street that Tevon directed them to screamed upscale. These
were large houses with neatly cut landscaped yards and had expensive
luxury cars in the driveways.
‚Which one?‛ asked Declan.
‚The one with the bricked mailbox,‛ Tevon said.
‚How many people are usually in the house?‛ Matt asked.
‚Four, five, maybe six, depends on who’s hangin’ and if Little D
has his baby mama aroun’ or not.‛ Tevon slouched farther down in the
back seat. ‚I dun showed you the house. Can we leave now?‛
‚Not yet. We’re going to sit here for at least a few minutes and see
who drops by,‛ replied Declan. In the back seat, Tevon was scrunched
down even farther. With a glance to his partner, Declan put the car in gear
and pulled back onto the street.
A glimpse of blue between the houses caught his attention. ‚These
houses back up to the water, don’t they?‛
‚Yeah, it looks like it,‛ Matt affirmed.
The two agents exchanged a look. Water access made it that much
more possible to receive drug shipments by boat, especially this close to
the Mexican border.
* * * * *
In the DEA field office the following morning, Declan and Matt
hooked up with the rest of the group to discuss the latest development in
cracking one of the city’s heroin rings. Some decisions needed to be made
about the value of the new location, pointed out by the dubiously
trustworthy Tevon.
Ray Groseman was the supervisor for Group Nine in the San Diego
office. He was a black man in his forties with fifteen years experience in
the area. He orchestrated the ongoing discussion. The three other
members of the team were present too: Donovan Jacobs, Nanette Choi,
and Paul Verhulz.
‚This could be a significant break in cutting the heroin pipeline to
the south side of the city,‛ Ray said. ‚I want round-the-clock surveillance
on this place. Paul and I will take midnight to eight, Nanette, you and
Donovan take the day for now, eight to four, and I want Declan and Matt
on the evening again. We’ll do at least a full twenty-four hour
observational period before we make any decisions about a raid.‛
‚Do you want us to see if we can hit up Tevon again for some more
info?‛ asked Declan.
‚If you see an opportunity, okay, but don’t stir things up
unnecessarily. This CI is new, and we don’t know how likely he is to stay
flipped for us.‛
* * * * *
Same plan, different place. Declan was the one with the camera at
the moment, training its obscenely long telephoto lens at the area
surrounding the supposedly nice, high-class, respectable suburban house.
Matt slouched behind the steering wheel.
‚I need a four letter word for ‘babysitter’s charges.’ Cost doesn’t
fit,‛ said Matt, poking his pen in the direction of the folded newspaper.
‚Cash.‛
‚It has to end in –s.‛
‚Rugrats. Why the hell do you ask me this stuff? I majored in
criminal justice, not English,‛ Declan griped.
‚Because I’m stuck, and it annoys the crap out of you.‛
‚And why exactly does it make you so happy to piss me off?‛
‚It’s payback for the fact I feel like we’re on a suicide mission every
time you drive. What is it with you tailing people four inches off their
bumper and changing lanes every ten seconds? Do you know you
changed lanes thirty-four times in five miles up on the 805?‛ Matt asked.
‚I can’t believe you counted. I thought you grew up in D.C. with
beltway traffic.‛
‚I did. The average speed at rush hour is like eight miles an hour.‛
‚You’re such a pussy. You need to live a little. And you need a
better hobby,‛ teased Declan. Despite the fact the two of them argued like
siblings, Declan had an amused respect for Pulaski. The man ragged on
Declan every bit as hard as Declan put out. ‚You oughta learn to surf.‛
Matt tugged a lock of his own short bright red-gold hair. ‚Note the
red hair. My skin comes in two shades—white or lobster red. Those two
are not compatible with surfing, plus I hate the way ocean water tastes.‛
‚You’re not supposed to drink it. Maybe your kid would like to
learn to surf.‛
‚Have you seen my son? I feel like I ought to dunk him head first
in a vat of SPF 75 before I let him outside. He burns if he’s out for more
than twenty minutes without it. Pisses my ex off something fierce. Her
family’s Greek, and she has jet black hair and this deep olive skin tone.
Our kid looks like Mini-me.‛
Declan had to snicker. Through the lens he watched a car approach
the house. After it parked in the driveway, two men got out—one white,
one Hispanic. ‚We have visitors. Being that there’s two of them, I wonder
if this is somehow connected to that delivery Tevon said is in the works.‛
‚Maybe they’re the ones fronting the money. Did Ray get the
search warrant yet?‛
‚It’s in progress. I think he’s planning on an early morning raid
tomorrow. Maybe a couple of the group’ll still be asleep,‛ Declan said.
‚I’d rather be asleep,‛ said Matt. ‚When we’re on stakeout until
past midnight, it takes me a good two hours plus to wind down enough to
sleep.‛
‚Yeah, join the club.‛
‚Hey, we agree on something!‛ Matt crowed. Declan rolled his
eyes.
Chapter Two
Things were heating up in the San Diego DEA field office. Ray
Groseman stood in the center of the briefing room. ‚I have search
warrants in hand. Jacobs and Choi witnessed an unregistered boat
docking behind the house. They saw two Hispanic men get out. One was
carrying a large briefcase. We have probable cause, and the powers that be
have given us the go-ahead.‛
Donovan Jacobs, a stocky brown-haired man, piped up. ‚If the
briefcase was full, we’re guessing it could contain three maybe four kilos.‛
‚Was there just one briefcase?‛ asked Matt.
‚We only saw the one. There’s no guarantee they didn’t have more
stashed on the boat,‛ replied the short Nanette Choi.
Groseman picked up a sheaf of papers. ‚Verhulz is keeping an eye
on the house while we’re laying this out. He’ll give us a buzz if there’s any
activity before we get there. We have air support on the way. The local PD
is loaning us six additional guys. Verhulz and I will take the ram and go
in the front. Foster, you and Pulaski take the back. Choi and Jacobs are
going to cover the garage. PD is our extra manpower. Expect weapons.
Wear your vests. Any more questions?‛
As everyone headed out, Groseman said, ‚Come back alive.‛
* * * * *
Early morning sunshine slanted through a row of tall trees. Guns
drawn, Matt and Declan crept through the yard of a neighboring house,
staying mostly behind bushes as they approached the back corner of the
house on the opposite side from the driveway.
Matt’s earpiece murmured that Groseman and Verhulz were about
to breach the front door. Matt took a deep breath and listened for the slam
and accompanying shout. Three, two, one<.
As soon as he heard the sound, Matt hauled off and kicked the back
door about level with the knob. It caved inward with a splintering sound.
‚DEA! Get on the floor!‛ Matt shouted at the back of a man making
a wild dive through an interior doorway. Another man bolted out from
behind a refrigerator and slammed past Matt, nearly knocking him flat.
‚I got him!‛ yelled Declan. Matt cast a momentary glance over his
shoulder as Declan took off out the open door. The man who had
vanished toward the interior of the house suddenly came barreling back
toward Matt, and they went down in a pile half in, half out the door.
‚On your belly! Hands out to the side!‛ Matt shouted, putting a
knee into the back of his suspect and pressing his gun against the man’s
skull with one hand. After a moment of struggling, the suspect gave up
enough that Matt holstered his gun and cuffed him. He looked up in the
direction that Declan had gone and saw his partner sprinting down a long
wooden dock after the fleeing man. There was a boat moored at the end.
As Matt watched, Declan stumbled and flailed for balance. Instead
of taking the opportunity to lunge toward the boat, the man whirled and
smacked something against Declan’s arm.
Matt’s breath caught as he saw Declan’s body spasm stiffly and
then fall into the water. ‚Agent down! Agent down on the back dock!‛
Matt screamed into his radio as he took off running. He knew that body
jerking motion too well. Declan had been tasered.
Free and clear, the man remaining on the dock now took full
advantage of the situation and jumped into the boat, gunning it away
from the pier.
Racing down the length of the narrow wooden pier, Matt skidded
to a stop where he thought he’d seen Declan fall. Please let the arrogant ass
come floundering up out of the water soaked and annoyed. There was no sound
except the receding whine of the boat engine. It took Matt another
precious few seconds to find what he was looking for, and his heart
lurched. Declan’s body was floating face down about a foot below the
surface.
Ripping off his holster and radio, Matt threw them down on the
planking and jumped into the water. Declan was about a dozen feet away,
and it only took a couple of strokes for Matt to get to him. He hauled
Declan’s limp body back to the surface and towed him to the dock.
Groseman and Jacobs were waiting there and dragged Declan up
onto the dock, stretching him out on his back as Matt hoisted himself up
out of the water.
‚What the hell happened?‛ demanded Ray.
‚I’m pretty sure he got tasered,‛ replied Matt.
‚Jesus fuck<‛ Ray rubbed a hand roughly across Declan’s chest.
‚Dec, Dec! Talk to me!‛ There was no response, and Ray bent close to
listen for breath sounds. ‚He’s not breathing. Donovan, call for an
ambulance!‛
Matt pressed a couple of fingers to Declan’s throat. Nothing. No
breathing, no pulse. Declan was utterly limp, face pale and lips bluish.
‚There’s no pulse.‛
‚We need to start CPR!‛ snapped Ray as he began ripping open
Declan’s bulletproof vest. It seemed to take minutes for him and Matt to
wrestle it off Declan’s body. Ray positioned his hands on Declan’s chest.
‚One, two, three, four, five.‛ Matt tipped Declan’s head back, chin up, and
sealed his mouth over his partner’s, praying they could get him back.
They continued CPR for about two minutes before Declan made a
gurgling cough.
‚Roll him!‛ said Ray.
Matt and Ray rolled Declan onto his side just in time for him to
vomit a mix of breakfast and ocean water. After a couple more retching
coughs, Declan lay gasping. It was a wet raspy sound, but hell<at least he
was breathing. Thank God. Matt’s hand was still under Declan’s head, and
he checked his partner’s pulse with the opposite hand. It was a weak fast
flutter.
Nannette came jogging up the dock. ‚The ambulance is here.‛
Ray nodded. ‚Stay with him. I have to go make sure the local PD
officers have the dealers ready to send for booking.‛
‚Yeah, go. I’ll give the paramedics the rundown,‛ Matt replied. He
eased Declan onto his back. Declan’s face was still deathly pale, but his
lips were back to an almost normal color. ‚Dec, can you open your eyes
for me?‛ It took several ineffective tries before Declan did actually open
his eyes. The gaze was glazed and unfocused, but somehow it reassured
Matt.
‚Dec, you scared the shit out of me!‛ Matt said. Declan coughed
some more. ‚Just hang tight; paramedics are coming.‛ He took Declan’s
hand in his and gave it a squeeze. His partner returned the pressure and
gave Matt enough of a nod to indicate that he had some kind of
understanding.
The paramedics swiftly checked vitals, started an IV and oxygen
and placed Declan on a backboard as a precaution. It took Matt, both
paramedics, and another police officer to carry Declan off the dock and
across the uneven ground to the stretcher.
Matt was given a blanket to wrap up in as he sat beside his partner
in the ambulance. His sodden jeans were clinging uncomfortably to his
legs.
Declan seemed to be a little more alert now as he lay on the
stretcher. He crooked a finger at Matt. ‚Boat?‛ he croaked, pulling the
oxygen mask down to his chin.
‚Yeah, he got away in it, but I heard we got five dealers. I’ll find
out if they located the stash after we get you to the hospital.‛
‚Agent Foster. You really need to keep the mask on,‛ admonished
the paramedic in the back as she replaced the mask. ‚Your oxygen sats
aren’t too good.‛
* * * * *
Hospital waiting rooms sucked, Matt decided. The rest of the team
had shown up about an hour after the ambulance had delivered Declan
and Matt to the hospital. They were all waiting impatiently for word on
how Declan was doing.
Finally a doctor—a man in his fifties with hair graying at his
temple—came out. He asked, ‚You all are waiting for word on Agent
Foster?‛
Groseman stood up. ‚Yes, I’m his supervisor. His mother’s been
notified, but I have his power of attorney in cases of on-the-job injuries.
You can say whatever you need to all of us.‛
‚Agent Foster inhaled some water in his near-drowning event.
Neurologically, he’s doing well, but he’s suffered some lung damage and
is showing signs of respiratory distress. We’re moving him to ICU for at
least the remainder of the day because we may need to place him on a
ventilator.‛
‚Can we see him?‛ asked Matt.
‚For a few minutes, after he’s been moved,‛ replied the doctor.
After the doctor had departed, Matt asked Ray, ‚Where’s his
mother coming from?‛
‚Sacramento. She’s a DA, and I think she wrangled a lift from a
state police helicopter. She should be here in another hour or so.‛
* * * * *
Drifting in an exhausted fog, Declan felt something touch his hand,
and he forced his eyes open. It was Matt.
‚I thought you might like to know they found four kilos of heroin
at the house. Between that and the fact we arrested five of their people,
that oughta put a good dent in their operation for a while,‛ Matt said.
Even though Matt was telling him fairly normal things, there was
an expression of deep concern on Matt’s face. He knew his partner was
worrying. Declan gave him a thumbs-up sign. He couldn’t really speak. A
positive pressure mask over his mouth and nose was pushing oxygen into
his tortured lungs.
‚Your mom’s on her way down here. Ray called her,‛ Matt said.
That was going to be a mixed blessing. His mother was distant and
overbearing at the best of times. If he wasn’t up to fending her off, life was
likely to be pretty miserable.
‚You made the ‘ick’ face. I take it visitations from mom are not a
desired event?‛
Declan shook his head a little.
‚Anything I can do to help? Though I don’t guess you can tell me at
this point anyway,‛ said Matt.
Declan shrugged. Maybe if he were lucky, once she realized he
wasn’t at death’s door, she’d go home. Then again, he was in ICU after
having been tasered and sucking half an ocean into his lungs.
* * * * *
‚Sending you to college to get a degree in criminal justice was
supposed to be followed by law school and passing the bar. Instead I’m
sitting here in ICU because you have this idea that running after drug
dealers, gun in hand, is more fun than having a responsible job!‛ Declan’s
mother said.
Declan was paying as little attention to his mother’s tirade as
possible. In a totally perverse way, having the oxygen mask sealed over
his face was as good an excuse as any to not have to provide a reply.
Elena Foster had stridden into the ICU, giving orders like she
expected people to jump. The fact that the hospital staff had some fairly
rigid guidelines about what visitors were allowed to do was a small
saving grace.
‚You are far too much like your father! Running around pretending
you’re immortal. Look where that got him. Drowned in the middle of a
storm because he thought he could save more people on that boat.‛
Declan closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think about that right
now. His father had been a Navy rescue diver and had been doing exactly
what he was trained to do when the combination of a vicious storm and
bad luck had ganged up on him. Declan had once thought he would be a
rescue diver just like his father<back before the bike accident that had
broken his shoulder and left him barely able to swim for more than two
years. He’d fought his way back enough to swim competitively in college,
but he’d never been quite able to pass the insanely difficult requirements
to apply for the diver program.
Four to five miles of swimming a week should have made him
‚drown proof‛, shouldn’t it?
* * * * *
LEGOS only served as a good distraction when you were four, Matt
decided. His son Kenny was sprawled on the den floor of the little
two-bedroom apartment assembling something he claimed was a robot.
As the adult in charge, Matt was a little dubious about the shape, but
whatever a set of four-year-old eyes saw was fine. Matt was also
preoccupied. He’d spent the past day at the field office grinding through
paperwork that dealt with the raid, seizure of drugs, and subsequent
arrests. Today he was off, but his partner was still in the hospital,
although no longer in the ICU. Matt had been to see him that morning
prior to picking up Kenny from the ex. Declan was still having a lot of
breathing issues, with his oxygen sats ranging mostly in the 70’s and 80’s.
Whatever that meant, it apparently wasn’t stellar.
Declan’s mother, Elena, had hovered near her son’s bedside for the
day he spent in ICU then, apparently having reassured herself that Declan
wasn’t on death’s door, had returned to Sacramento. Matt thought the
whole thing was a little callous, but Declan seemed relieved that his
mother was gone.
On the floor, Kenny was snapping blocks together. If it had been
Kenny that nearly drowned, Matt would have been absolutely freaked.
Maybe that level of worry changed when your son was an adult, but
damn< Matt was still feeling a little rattled by the fact his partner had
needed CPR.
Chapter Three
Declan walked slowly into his oceanfront house, Matt trailing him.
His chest ached. Any exertion at all made him feel like a ninety-year-old
emphysema patient. The doctors at the hospital had said it would
probably be a couple of weeks before the damage to his lungs healed
enough for normal exercise and work.
‚Why don’t you take a load off? I’ll ditch all this stuff over by the
table,‛ said Matt, gesturing with the bag of prescriptions.
‚Yeah, whatever,‛ Declan replied. He was annoyed at his body’s
weakness. He sat down at the computer desk in the den and began to go
through his email.
Matt wandered around the room and poked his head into the
kitchen and hallway, obviously checking out the house’s floor plan. ‚Nice
place. What’d it cost? Like a million five?‛
‚I have no idea. My parents bought it when I was a little kid.‛
‚Obviously your mother lives in Sacramento. Where’s your dad?‛
‚Dead.‛
‚Oh.‛ Matt looked faintly embarrassed.
‚He was a Navy search and rescue swimmer. He died on the job
when I was seventeen.‛ Declan pushed himself away from the desk and
went toward the kitchen. He didn’t want to think about the disturbing
parallels between his father’s death and his own near miss. He pulled a
soda out of the refrigerator and popped the top. ‚I need to go for a run.‛
Matt had followed him into the kitchen. ‚No fucking way. I believe
the instructions said minimal exertion for the next three days. Going for a
run doesn’t meet that criterion. The only reason they even let you out of
the hospital was because you convinced them you had somebody to keep
an eye on you for the next seventy-two hours.‛
‚You volunteered.‛
‚Yeah I did, because doing CPR on your lifeless body really
creeped me out. And it’s gonna take me at least a few more days before I
stop thinking about you being all blue and having no pulse.‛
‚I<‛ Declan wasn’t sure what to say.
‚Ray also told me to keep an eye on you and make sure you
recover okay,‛ said Matt. ‚So take your Mountain Dew, go sit your ass
down, and go back to watching porn or whatever the hell it was you were
doing on the computer.‛
‚I was reading my email!‛
‚Okay, then do it.‛
* * * * *
Matt watched a baseball game on TV with the sound turned low
and made a stab at the crossword in the newspaper. Declan puttered
around the house, working on the computer, making some phone calls,
and eventually carrying a basket of laundry from the bedroom area out in
the direction of the kitchen. None of this struck Matt as being in the
‚exertion‛ category, so beyond keeping a token eye of his partner, he
wasn’t paying Declan much attention. That was probably a good thing,
too, because otherwise Matt was way too tempted to focus on the way
those jeans hung on Dec’s narrow hips.
There was an odd noise out in the kitchen, and something about it
compelled Matt to go have a look. A large folding door at the far end of
the kitchen hung open revealing a washer and dryer. Declan was bent
forward, one hand braced on the washing machine, the other arm
wrapped across his chest, wheezing and coughing.
Matt rushed toward him. ‚Sit down! On the floor.‛ He grabbed
hold of his partner, easing him down. ‚Try to breathe slowly. Stay put, I’ll
get the inhaler. ‛ He dashed back into the den and rifled through the bag
on the table, grabbing out the chunk of blue plastic. Returning to the
kitchen as he shook it up, he knelt down and thumbed off the cover,
pushing the mouthpiece against Declan’s lips. ‚Open up. Exhale.‛ The
sound Declan made was more a rattling cough than just an exhalation. As
Declan gasped, Matt pushed the button.
After another minute Declan was breathing easier, if not normally.
‚Why the fuck <would doing <laundry make it so<hard to breathe?‛
he demanded.
Matt glanced up at the washing machine. A bottle of detergent sat
beside the bleach. ‚It’s the bleach and soap fumes thing.‛
‚What?‛
‚The smells. The detergent is labeled ‘fresh scent’ and the bleach
smells a lot. Your lungs are hypersensitive. The combo caused
bronchospasms.‛ Matt stood up and screwed the lid back on the bleach.
‚You’re gonna have to deal with something less than sparkly whites for at
least a few weeks. And it might be a good idea to get some of that
detergent that has no smell and no dyes.‛
‚Did the damn doctors tell you more than they told me?‛
‚No, not really. One of my cousins has asthma really bad. When we
were growing up, I spent a lot of time watching out for her. Smells,
smoke, bad pollen< all that stuff in the wrong combination could trigger
her.‛
‚I don’t have asthma,‛ Declan griped. His breathing was still more
labored than normal.
‚No, but you sucked something like a half gallon of ocean water
straight into your lungs. They said it did some damage.‛
‚I feel like a wimp. Walking across the room makes me breathe
hard and doing some freaking mundane chore just about lays me out.‛
‚It’ll get better,‛ said Matt.
* * * * *
Declan’s gorgeous sprawling house had three bedrooms, one of
which seemed to be filled with boxes. Matt stood in the box laden ‚spare
room‛ unpacking a duffle that contained some clothes and toiletries. It
was ten p.m., and he intended to keep his word about watching over
Declan for a full three days. Ray had listed Matt as unavailable to the
powers that be with hard-ass instructions to Matt to make Declan take it
easy. Ray knew Declan all too well. He was a valuable team member, and
Ray wanted him to be fully back up to speed as soon as it was feasible.
The episode with the laundry that afternoon bothered Matt. Maybe
it was that whole being-a-parent thing. He was almost tempted to pull the
‚peek in on the sleeping sick kid‛ maneuver but wasn’t sure how much
shit Declan would give him if he got caught.
Matt ditched all his clothes except his boxers and climbed into bed.
In the dead of night, faint noises woke Matt. Worried, he got up
and went to Declan’s room. It was empty. Matt padded out into the main
part of the house. Faint light from a digital clock on a shelf lit the den, and
Matt saw Declan sitting on the floor in front of the sliding glass door,
looking out into darkness. His arms were loosely wrapped around his
knees.
‚You okay?‛ Matt asked.
Declan looked up. ‚Yeah.‛
Matt sat down beside him. ‚So why are you awake and out here?‛
‚Why are you awake?‛
‚Because I heard a noise, and I was worried about you. That’s what
the whole having somebody stay with you for at least seventy-two hours
is all about—me making sure you’re not about to keel over,‛ Matt said.
Declan was silent for a minute. ‚I <my chest hurts. I couldn’t
sleep,‛ he finally admitted.
‚You need the inhaler?‛
‚No, I’m okay. It just<hurts.‛
‚There’s more to it than that. If Mr. I-can-hack-anything admits to
pain, there’s something else going on.‛
‚Just drop it,‛ said Declan.
They sat for a long number of minutes in silence, listening to the
wind whip through the trees. Matt wondered if a storm was brewing.
‚I’ve never been that helpless,‛ Declan blurted out.
‚This afternoon?‛
‚No< When I got tasered. I fell into the water, and I couldn’t do
anything. I couldn’t lift my head or roll over. And then some sort of
involuntary reflex made me breathe in. Fuck< It was like breathing lava
and choking all at the same time and<‛ He trailed off, a hitch in his voice
that sounded close to breaking.
Matt laid a hand on Declan’s shoulder, feeling the heavy muscles
there. Declan turned his head to meet Matt’s gaze, and Matt thought he
had never seen such a raw and vulnerable look from his partner. Matt
wrapped his arm around Declan’s shoulders, cradling Declan’s head on
his chest. ‚It wasn’t much of a picnic from my end. You came out of the
water looking like a dead body. Fucking hell, I thought maybe I’d lost
you.‛
Declan’s face tipped up toward Matt’s, and they hovered that way
for a long moment before Matt screwed up the courage to brush a kiss
across Dec’s lips. Matt wondered if the response was going to be a wise
crack or a punch. It was neither. Dec’s breathing hitched again, and he
cleared his throat, looking at the floor.
‚Sorr—‚ Matt began, then Dec’s mouth was against his, one hand
hooked behind Matt’s head, holding him close, yet the kiss was tentative,
uncertain.
It took every shred of Matt’s willpower not to grab Declan and
ravage his mouth. To know that the lips against his were warm and alive
and interested enough to return the kiss< Dec turned his face away just
enough to break the contact of their mouths, eyes closed. He didn’t move
any farther, just sat with his side pressed against Matt’s, Matt’s arm still
around his shoulders.
‚Your floor is hard and cold, despite this being California,‛ Matt
finally said.
Declan chuckled a little. ‚And your point is?‛
‚It’s three a.m., and there are two beds in this house plus a sofa.
That makes three much more comfortable places to be.‛
‚Lying down makes it feel like I can’t breathe<‛
‚So try the inhaler. It might help,‛ said Matt.
The inhaler was a mixed blessing. Declan sat on the sofa hunched
forward, trying to convince himself that the way his body was shaking
was some kind of nervous response to kissing Matt. Except kissing Matt
had felt good.
Matt’s hand rubbed down his spine, a small welcome warmth.
‚You have the shakes,‛ Matt said. ‚It’s a side effect of the inhaler
meds, and it gets worse when you’re really wiped-out tired.‛
‚And you know this why?‛
‚Becky, my cousin, the one with asthma. She lived down the street
from me when I was growing up. My aunt was a single parent, and I got
deputized to keep an eye on Becky for a lot of years.‛
‚I take it this means she was younger than you?‛
‚By six years.‛
Declan curled forward, sitting with his elbows on his knees, hands
fisted together, trying to force himself to stop shaking.
‚I know you’re probably not actually cold, but a blanket might help
with the shaking,‛ Matt said.
Dec was quiet for a while, then said, ‚Yeah, okay.‛
Matt got up off the sofa and vanished in the direction of the
bedrooms. He returned a couple of minutes later carrying a blanket. He
sat down with his back against the arm of the sofa. ‚Come here.‛ He held
open his arms, one leg against the back of the couch.
Declan found himself wanting the offered comfort so bad tears
burned in his eyes. He scooted close, leaning on Matt’s chest, hands
tucked under his arms and let his head rest on Matt’s shoulder. ‚I am so
pathetic<‛ he muttered.
‚Yeah, whatever. You’re a guy who damn near died.‛ Matt pulled
the blanket up over them.
Between the blanket and the warmth of Matt’s body, Declan’s
trembling finally began to fade. A part of his brain suggested he ought to
get up and go back to bed, but a less logical part protested that he should
stop fighting the attraction he felt to his partner. Matt had been the one to
initiate the kiss, but Declan had returned it. Matt had been the one to offer
to hold him while he shook like some nervous Chihuahua. And he had
been the one that accepted. What exactly did that mean?
Exhausted, Declan fell asleep.
* * * * *
Matt woke to the sound of rain, not a sound he’d heard a lot since
he’d moved to San Diego. Gray light indicated day, but it definitely
wasn’t the happy nonstop sunshine this place usually got. Declan was still
lying against Matt’s chest, body finally slack in sleep, breath ghosting
across Matt’s skin. He thought Dec still looked pale and exhausted. Beard
stubble darkened his jaw line and highlighted the soft line of his mouth by
contrast.
Matt
cursed
himself.
He’d
been
attracted
to
Tall-dark-and-annoying since day one and had spent the past three
months trying to cram those thoughts under a convenient rock in his
brain. Now< now he wasn’t sure what to think.
A couple of light kisses and falling asleep snuggled together on the
sofa didn’t necessarily mean a whole lot of anything. Dec was still pretty
traumatized from the almost-drowning thing. No, actually there wasn’t
any almost to it, Matt corrected himself, thinking about Dec’s lack of
breathing, lack of heartbeat, and need for CPR. The medical establishment
might call it a near drowning, but it didn’t feel that way to Matt.
There was a fair chance an exercise in embarrassment was going to
occur now that it was daylight, so Matt allowed himself the luxury of
staring at Dec’s sleeping features. He had a slight beaky curve to his nose.
His dark hair was curling, mussed as it was by sleep. The narrowing of his
chin with that damn little dent, dimple, whatever you wanted to call it,
just begged for a kiss. There was a lot of heavy muscle in Dec’s shoulders,
and with the leisure to admire them, Matt noticed some significant
scarring on the right shoulder. It appeared Declan had had surgery,
maybe more than once.
Eventually Declan jerked, his eyes blinking open. Here comes the
freak out and the bolt into another room, Matt thought.
But it didn’t happen. Declan drew a shaky breath in, stretched
slightly, and then relaxed against Matt’s body again.
‚I’m surprised I fell asleep again,‛ Declan mumbled. He slowly
pushed himself upright and swung his feet down to the floor.
‚Your body’s still got a fair bit of healing to do. I’m gonna go take a
shower. It might be a good idea if you fired up the coffee pot,‛ Matt
suggested. Declan nodded vaguely, running his hands down over his face.
He looked bleary eyed, on the verge of incoherence.
* * * * *
In the shower, Matt took advantage of the privacy for a quick and
dirty jerk-off, wishing all the time it was Declan’s hand rather than his
own. He was still trying to puzzle the guy out. He’d figured Dec for
absolutely straight. According to the scuttlebutt from the DEA team, the
guy changed girlfriends every couple of months.
The kiss last night had been uncertain and hinted at first time,
unless by some stretch of the imagination Declan was really that
awkward. Was the guy deeply in the closet? It wouldn’t be that unusual
for somebody in law enforcement to make the ‚easy‛ choices when it
came to relationships and sexuality. Matt understood the hard gut
churning angst of coming to terms with being bisexual. When he’d finally
acknowledged it was the individuals that attracted him and not just the
plumbing, it had only been a partial relief.
* * * * *
Pouring water into the coffee maker, Declan was half tempted to
just turn it on and go crawl in bed. His sleep had been broken by
nightmares at the beginning of the night, then there was the trouble
breathing and the shaking from the inhaler. If it hadn’t been for Matt, he
might not have slept at all. And that wound him back around to< the
kisses and the falling asleep on his partner thing. It wasn’t like he’d never
looked at another guy, but looking was as far as he’d ever let himself get.
He’d had a few wet dreams, thought about it occasionally, usually when
he’d broken up with a girlfriend, and watched a couple of gay porn videos
on the internet. But he wasn’t sure what it meant. He liked women, boobs
and curves and< What if he was just fooling himself, believing he was
straight because he was unwilling to face the possibility he wasn’t?
Waking up with Matt had felt good, right in some way he couldn’t quite
put his finger on. What if he had died without ever testing out the other
half of the playing field?
Declan sat at the breakfast bar, listening to the gurgle of the pot and
the sound of the rain, head in his hands. His chest hurt again, that damn
wheezy constriction feeling that never really totally went away. He
thought about the inhaler but discarded the idea because he was not in the
mood for the shaking thing all over again.
‚Your turn,‛ said Matt. He came into the kitchen wearing jeans and
a dark green T-shirt.
‚You better not have used all the hot water.‛
‚I figured you for the thirty minute shower type.‛
Declan made a face and flipped Matt the finger.
‚Only if you’re in the mood,‛ Matt shot back. ‚And I usually prefer
to top.‛
It was probably a good thing the coffee pot hadn’t finished yet
because Declan would undoubtedly have nasally exhaled his coffee. He
could feel his face flush about ten shades of red. The idea of doing
something like that with Matt sent blood flooding from his face straight
south.
‚I<I think I ought to go take a shower,‛ Declan said, thinking that
maybe a cold one might be a good idea as he swiftly headed in the
direction of the bathroom.
Great. Now Matt wasn’t sure if he’d offended Dec or scared the
crap out of him. He poured himself a cup of coffee and went to stare out
the sliding door at the rain. He might as well enjoy the uncommon event.
Yards ahead, the ocean rolled and churned beneath the onslaught of the
storm.
* * * * *
‚I figured something better than take-out would be a good idea,‛
said Nanette. She’d shown up on the doorstep of Declan’s house a little
before noon, with a canning jar, a Tupperware bowl, and a loaf of artisan
bread.
‚It’s not like I have the flu or something, and all my body parts still
work,‛ Declan said. He was both touched and amused by her gesture.
‚I figured if I left you to the tender mercies of your partner, you’d
be doomed to chicken nuggets with mac and cheese,‛ teased Nanette.
‚I know how to cook real food,‛ protested Matt. ‚My kid eats a
fairly normal diet.‛
‚Maybe I like macaroni and cheese,‛ replied Declan.
‚Yeah, okay, good,‛ Nanette said. ‚I brought you pasta and
marinara and some bread from that bakery over on Eighth. No offense,
honey, but you still look like shit.‛
‚Gee thanks. It’d help if I could breathe better than an
eighty-year-old chain smoker,‛ Declan shot back.
‚I’m just happy you’re breathing period.‛
‚What’s going on at work?‛ Declan asked.
‚We’re in the trough. A couple more days of downtime and
paperwork before the next op. Be glad Ray hasn’t shown up on your
doorstep with ten gigs of wire tap for you to listen to.‛ She rolled her eyes.
‚I take it you got stuck with that thankless task this go-round?‛
‚Yeah, unfortunately. Listen, I gotta go. Matt, kick his ass and make
sure he recovers, okay?‛ Nanette said.
‚Why does everyone think I’m incapable of taking care of myself?‛
Declan griped.
‚Dec, dude, you’re the one who limped around on a broken ankle
for two days last year before Ray all but dragged your sorry ass to the
hospital for X-rays,‛ said Nanette.
‚Oh? I haven’t heard this one,‛ interjected Matt.
‚Doofus here jumps off a second story balcony chasing this perp,
lands on concrete, and doesn’t bother to tell anyone he’s hurt until his
ankle’s so swollen he can’t get his shoe on,‛ Nanette explained.
‚I cracked one bone, and it wasn’t even that far out of alignment,‛
replied Declan.
‚Dec, broke is broke,‛ Nanette said.
Ray, Donovan, and Paul dropped by Declan’s house over the
course of the next several hours, to chat and check up on their colleague.
Matt watched the interactions of the other men on the team as they
visited with his partner. Matt was still something of the ‚new guy‛ on the
team. Declan’s previous partner had taken a promotion and been
transferred to Chicago. Matt had wondered how difficult it would be to
work with a new group and a new partner after seven years in the D.C.
office. It hadn’t been exactly easy, but they were all professionals, and it
could have been light-years worse. Was the little thing he and Declan had
shared going to make life complicated?
* * * * *
The rain had stopped, but it was still heavily overcast. Declan
thought it was vaguely fitting, given his mood. He was dead tired, and the
chest ache just wouldn’t quit. After all his team mates had come by to visit
and check on him, he forced himself to catch up on a few light chores
around the house, noting that Matt seldom seemed to be out of sight,
watching, without quite hovering.
Declan finally sat down at the computer to check email. He rested
his head on his hand, sheer fatigue pounding him.
‚You should go to bed,‛ said Matt from across the room. ‚You’re
worse than a two-year-old, doing that ‘if I keep moving I won’t ever have
to go to bed’ thing. Any minute now the meltdown’s gonna happen.‛
‚I am not gonna have a meltdown!‛
‚Oh yeah? And that just sounded so grown up. Are you gonna
stamp your feet next?‛
Declan glared in Matt’s direction. He wanted to throw something at
the man. There was a stuffed plush brain cell sitting in a coffee cup along
with batch of pens. He picked it up and winged it across the room at Matt.
‚Hey! That was real adult!‛ Matt said. He picked up the stuffed
toy. ‚What the hell is this thing?‛
‚My spare brain cell,‛ Declan muttered.
‚Do I even want to know why you have a ‘spare brain cell’?‛
‚Ray accused me of being short a few after the whole ankle
incident. So I came in one morning, and Donovan presented me with
that.‛
Matt came across the room, toy in hand. ‚Here’s your brain cell
back,‛ he said with a snicker, then he sobered a little, laying a hand on
Declan’s shoulder. ‚I know I’m ragging on you, but really, you look
wiped out. It’s barely been twenty-four hours since you got out of the
hospital.‛
Declan closed his eyes, mostly because he was afraid if he looked
up at Matt’s face, the other man would see how completely vulnerable he
felt.
‚Come on, on your feet, because there’s no freakin’ way I can carry
you,‛ Matt said. He pulled Declan to his feet and aimed him toward the
bedroom. Declan let himself be shoved along.
In the bedroom, Matt pushed him down on the bed and covered
him with a sheet. ‚Even if you don’t sleep, you really need the rest.‛
As Matt turned to go, Declan reached out and caught Matt’s wrist.
‚Stay,‛ he said.
Matt raised an eyebrow. ‚Are you sure?‛
Declan nodded. Matt slid under the sheet beside him and eased an
arm around Declan’s body. The solid warmth of his partner’s body
against his side was oddly reassuring.
‚Want to talk about the pink elephant in the room?‛ Matt asked
softly.
Declan didn’t really know what to say but figured he had to say
something. ‚I< don’t have any idea what I’m doing.‛ Hey, at least it was
an honest response.
‚I kind of guessed that.‛
‚If<I< If I liked the kiss, does that mean I’m gay or just messed
up?‛
‚I don’t know. Only you can answer that.‛
‚You were married. You have a kid. Was it just a pretense?‛ Declan
asked.
‚No. I was in love with her once upon a time. And I was faithful
too. But when the shit starting hitting the fan, she found out my previous
relationship had been a guy. That just fueled the fire.‛
‚You’re bi?‛ Declan asked.
‚Yeah, to some people that seems to translate to being a cheating
lying sack of shit who’ll screw anyone. In reality, it makes my life just
fucking complicated. What about you? I kind of pegged you for straight. I
was more than half prepared to get hit when I kissed you. There wasn’t a
massive freakout this morning when you woke up all curled against me,
either.‛
‚Do you always interrogate the people you kiss?‛
Matt laughed. ‚I’d rather just kiss you again, if that’s okay with
you?‛
Declan nodded.
Matt placed a kiss on Declan’s forehead, then his nose, and finally
his mouth. It was gentle, but the sheer intensity of the focus made
suggestions to Dec’s brain and things a lot lower down too. He tentatively
cupped a hand against Matt’s hip. He wanted< He wasn’t sure what he
wanted. He wasn’t naïve enough not to have a fairly good idea what two
male bodies could do together, but<
‚You know the original intention of telling you to go to bed was so
you could get some rest,‛ Matt whispered, his lips a couple of inches from
Declan’s.
‚Yeah, I know.‛
‚So close your eyes and try to relax,‛ Matt said. ‚I’m not going
anywhere.‛
Chapter Four
Matt twiddled the pen in his fingers while he stared at the
crossword puzzle. Damn, why did he torture himself so? He always got
stuck at some point on these things. He sat on the bed beside Declan’s
sleeping form, loath to stray too far away from the man while he slept. It
was probably a good thing, too, because eventually Declan began making
odd little noises that sounded halfway between pain and fear. Stretching
out a hand, Matt rubbed Declan’s shoulder. ‚Hey, you’re okay,‛ he said
softly.
Declan made a little gasp, and he grabbed at the blanket as his eyes
flew open.
It took a moment for Declan’s eyes to focus; his hand was still
clenched on the blanket. His breathing sounded a little on the strained
side. Matt couldn’t decide if that was part of the lung damage or if it was a
product of the nightmare. He tossed the magazine on the floor and slid
farther down the bed, wrapping an arm around his partner.
‚Bad dream?‛ he asked.
‚Uh huh,‛ mumbled Declan. A shudder ran though his body.
Matt pulled him close so they were chest to chest. ‚Breathe, just
breathe. Slow and easy.‛ He rubbed his hand up and down Declan’s back.
Declan’s body relaxed slowly almost by inches over the span of
several minutes. Eventually his hand released the blanket and switched to
a grip on the back of Matt’s T-shirt. His mouth assaulted Matt’s, teeth
nipping and tongue probing. Dec’s opposite hand shoved its way under
Matt’s body and down the back of Matt’s jeans.
‚Whoa! Dec! Time out!‛ Matt pushed back enough to look into
Declan’s eyes. The expression changed from aggressive lust to
embarrassed hurt. ‚I’m not saying no< I just want to make sure this is
something you actually want and isn’t some knee-jerk response to getting
rattled by the nightmare.‛
Declan was breathing heavily. ‚I < You<‛ He let go and flopped
onto his back. ‚I’ve been telling myself no way for years, despite< I’ve
looked at guys and thought< I’ve looked at you and < I want to know if
the idea that a guy can turn me on as much as a woman is just some
stupid ass thought, or if it’s real. My fucking near miss with death is
making me question some of the choices I’ve made.‛
‚So basically I made your bucket list?‛ Matt said.
‚Huh? Oh< yeah I guess. That’s sounds< like I put my foot in my
mouth. I didn’t mean it that way. I trust you. I think I feel attracted to you.
Having you here< When I touch you, it feels right.‛
Matt placed a hand on Declan’s chest. ‚So long as this is a
conscious choice for you.‛
‚Is it the wrong one? What made you okay with this sort of thing?‛
‚I’m not sure there’s right and wrong choices when it comes to this
sort of thing. And I guess to a degree I did exactly what you’re doing,
pushed my limits and preconceptions. ‛
‚Why do I feel like I’m confessing some sort of PTSD crisis to the
DEA shrink?‛
Matt chuckled. ‚Ya think my psych degree is showing through?‛
‚Just a little.‛
‚Then stop talking and kiss me.‛
This time it was less of an attack and more of an exploration. He let
Dec take the lead, content to enjoy the heat of the kisses and hot slide of
his tongue. The actions sent unmistakable suggestions to Matt’s cock, and
pretty soon, his jeans were feeling way too tight. Declan was undoubtedly
suffering from some of the same because Matt could feel the thick ridge
under Dec’s fly grinding against his hip
He slipped a hand down between their bodies, cupping Declan’s
crotch, pushing his palm against the bulge, fingers toying with the softer
curve below.
Declan moaned, a sinfully hot little noise followed by a hitch in his
breathing.
‚You gonna freak if I unzip you?‛ Matt asked.
‚Nuh huh.‛
Oh, Dec was definitely headed past the coherent words stage. Matt
popped the button at the top of Declan’s jeans and eased the fly down.
The underwear beneath immediately tented outward. Sliding a hand
under the waistband, Matt curled his hand around a nicely thick cock. He
rubbed a thumb across the tip, and Declan shuddered, letting out another
of those noises. Matt could feel the slick leak of pre-cum on his thumb.
He stroked Dec slowly, and Dec groaned, thrusting into his hand.
Matt tilted his head back enough to watch the contortion of Dec’s features,
that scrunched up tightness that said he was really close to the edge. He
felt the throbbing pulse before the splatter that coated his fingers. Dec
gasped, riding the bliss for several seconds before his body began to relax.
Drifting in the after burn, Declan pulled Matt back into another
kiss. It was sloppy and slightly misaimed, and he wasn’t sure if that
mattered. He’d had hand jobs before. Did it make any sort of difference
this one had been from a guy? Maybe the contrast was greater that the
person he was kissing had a hint of razor stubble.
He wanted to return the favor. Declan rubbed his hand down
across Matt’s crotch, feeling the erection, hard under the fabric. He’d
never groped somebody else’s dick before. It was as much of a turn-on as
the kissing. Fumbling with the button and zipper on Matt’s jeans, he
suddenly wasn’t sure if he was supposed to push Matt’s boxers down or
try to do the same thing Matt had. God, he felt like he was reliving age
fifteen all over again.
Matt must have comprehended there was confusion because he
scrunched both jeans and boxers down past his hips. Declan hesitantly
wrapped his fingers around warm flesh. The angle seemed weird, but
Matt wasn’t objecting, so Declan jacked him. Matt rocked into the grip for
a minute or so before his hand closed around Dec’s and tightened.
‚You’re not gonna hurt me,‛ he whispered.
Oh. Declan was suddenly embarrassed. He felt inept but kept
going.
Matt groaned, and slippery warmth splattered down over Dec’s
fingers. They lay half wrapped around each other, clothing splashed in
stickiness.
Matt clasped Declan’s face between his hands and placed a careful
kiss on Dec’s mouth. There was an intensity behind it that was somehow
more intimate than hands in sensitive places had been.
‚Unless you have a thing for getting stuck to the sheets, it might be
a good idea to strip down and clean up,‛ Matt suggested.
Declan got up and started to pull off his T-shirt. He’d done his fair
share of getting naked in locker rooms. There had even been a few secret
glances at other bodies. Hell, Matt had seen him damn near naked at least
once before when he was getting a wire taped to his body. Had Matt been
attracted then? Dec must have been standing motionless in the bedroom
because suddenly Matt was in front of him, putting his hands on Dec’s
shoulders.
‚You okay?‛ Matt asked.
Declan had a sense there was a lot more Matt wanted to add to that
simple question. ‚Yeah.‛
‚I’m gonna go grab some clean stuff. Then maybe we should
investigate the food Nanette brought over,‛ replied Matt, walking out of
the room. He had stripped completely, and Declan’s eyes were drawn to
the pale curve of his partner’s ass as he walked away.
Chapter Five
‚Much as I appreciate Nan’s food, I’m going a little stir crazy. I
want to go somewhere for dinner,‛ Declan said.
‚Are you sure that’s a good idea?‛ Matt asked. He cast a dubious
eye in Dec’s direction.
‚I think I can handle sitting somewhere out in public eating food.‛
‚I take it you have somewhere in mind?‛
‚Carlisle’s. They have decent food, and they’ll be showing the
Lakers game,‛ replied Declan. ‚Are you really going to give me grief
about going out for food?‛
Matt weighed the idea. Nothing stuck out as inherently dangerous
for a guy who was still having some respiratory issues. ‚Nope, are you
paying?‛
On the way out the door, Matt grabbed the inhaler off the kitchen
counter and stuffed it his pocket.
* * * * *
Carlisle’s served a tolerable steak, and they had a fair beer
selection. Declan glanced away from the game being displayed on the
huge plasma screen to look at Matt. Did this qualify as a date or was it just
two friends hanging out and watching basketball? Did the things they had
done change their relationship? Did it fall in the category of friends with
benefits? Declan vainly tried to push the internal argument out of his head
and watch the game.
The waitress came by. ‚Can I get you guys another round of beer?‛
she asked. She was a fairly curvy blond and was probably relying on the
amount of cleavage she was showing to up the percentage of her tip. If
Declan had been alone, he might have flirted with her. Declan noticed
Matt’s eyes flickering down the length of that cleavage and wasn’t sure
what to make of the little action.
‚No, just a cup of coffee please,‛ Declan replied.
‚And you?‛ the waitress asked Matt.
‚How ‘bout a dessert menu?‛
‚I’ll bring it by in just a minute.‛ She gave Matt a little smile.
Evidently she hadn’t missed the track of Matt’s gaze either.
Something uneasy clenched in Declan’s stomach. One minute he
was trying to convince himself that two colleagues having dinner and beer
was nothing more than kick-back time; the next minute he was wondering
why Matt was eyeballing somebody else, specifically somebody female.
WTF? He really needed to get a grip. He stared down into his mostly
empty beer glass trying to decide if the tight feeling in his chest was just
the lung damage or something else.
‚Are you all right?‛ Matt asked. His voice sounded concerned. He
reached across the table and rested his loosely closed fist on top of
Declan’s hand. ‚You look < kind of stressed.‛
‚I< I’m fine. I’m gonna go take a leak.‛ Declan pushed himself up
out of the booth and headed off to the bathroom.
Key lime pie seemed like a good idea. Matt ordered while Declan
was gone, hoping nothing more than nerves was wrong with his partner.
All the things Dec had gone through in the past few days had to be
twisting his guts in knots. Back in college, Matt had seriously considered
going for the Ph.D. in psychology and becoming a therapist, but the
concept of that many more years in school had seemed overwhelming.
Now there were days when he wondered how in the hell taking a
sharp left turn into the DEA had seemed like a better idea. The whole
talk-to-me thing had never completely gone away though. When he’d
been in D.C., he had gotten the rep of being the ‚go to‛ guy when you
were trying to avoid getting sent to the department shrink. He’d lost
count of the number of late night runs or games of beer pong he’d spent
trying to help friends unkink their lives. His own was the one he couldn’t
quite fix. Maria and the DEA spouse life were worse than gasoline and
water.
He glanced in the direction of the bathroom. If Dec didn’t make an
appearance in about five minutes, Matt intended to hunt him down.
Declan reappeared just under the wire. ‚Who’s winning?‛ he
asked, sliding back into the booth.
‚Phoenix. The Lakers are down by three.‛
‚It figures. They are really floundering this season.‛
* * * * *
The heavy cloud cover of the day had finally blown off, and the
moon cast a faint light over the back porch where Declan slouched in a
deck chair, feet propped on the railing. The ocean thundered a couple
hundred yards away. Matt came out onto the porch and leaned against
the railing.
‚If you’re planning a moonlight swim, I’m going to tackle you and
drag your thrashing body back inside,‛ Matt threatened.
Declan chuckled. ‚Oh really? Tonight you might actually win.‛
‚Your chest still hurt?‛
‚It varies between feeling winded and outright burning,‛ Declan
answered slowly.
‚If you use the inhaler before you go to sleep, it might help.‛
‚Then I get to shake like a tweaker coming off a bender.‛
‚You got a little sleep this afternoon. If you’re less exhausted, the
side effects aren’t quite so bad.‛
‚Says you,‛ commented Declan.
‚Maybe I should drag your ass back inside anyway and put you to
bed.‛
‚Are you planning on keeping me company?‛ Declan shot back
then felt himself flush with embarrassment because he couldn’t believe
he’d said that.
Matt gave him a slow grin. ‚If you like, maybe I can figure out a
way to keep away some of the nightmares.‛
Declan looked out at the water again. He didn’t want to think about
that. Hitting the water< muscles paralyzed< that feeling<
Matt walked over and dropped down to one knee beside Declan.
He laid a hand on Declan’s leg. ‚I think maybe I’d be more surprised if
you weren’t having them. I know they suck big time, but it means at least
part of your head is trying to process what happened. Come on, let’s go
inside.‛ He stood up and held out a hand to Declan.
Declan was silent, but he let Matt lead him in.
* * * * *
Sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, Declan fisted
his hands together trying to make the skin-crawling trembling stop and
glared at the inhaler laying on the night stand. If he’d thought there was a
snowball’s chance in hell he wouldn’t end up on the sand gasping like a
landed fish, he would have gone out to the beach and run a couple of
miles. Anything to get away from the feeling the inhaler meds induced.
Matt came into the room.
‚You lied,‛ said Declan. He held out a hand to show Matt how
badly he was shaking.
‚Maybe it’s just you. Everybody reacts differently. Then again, how
much real sleep have you had in the past few days? Being sedated in the
hospital doesn’t count.‛
Declan flipped him the finger.
Matt gave a light snort of laughter. ‚How’s the breathing though?‛
‚Sort of better, but as a trade, it really sucks.‛
Matt leaned against the doorframe. ‚You still want me in here?‛
Declan hesitated. Matt was giving him an out, despite what they’d
gotten up to that afternoon. He looked at the way Matt was standing,
hands partially in his pockets, and reluctantly acknowledged how badly
he wanted those hands on his skin again.
‚Yeah, I do.‛
‚Are you planning on sleeping in your clothes again?‛
‚No,‛ Declan replied slowly, but he didn’t move.
‚You want some help getting undressed?‛
‚If you were a woman, I’d view that as a proposition.‛
‚It can be anything you want it to be,‛ Matt said.
‚Why are you giving me these kinds of choices?‛
‚Because you have to live with them. And did you ever think I
might have a few nightmares of my own to face down?‛
Declan was confused. Hadn’t Matt already indicated he had come
to some kind of terms with being attracted to guys?
‚Stop thinking it’s just a sex thing. Every freaking time I look at
you, every time you start having trouble breathing, my head fills up with
the memory of me and Ray trying to revive you out on that fucking dock.
If the fact that all of this is making you question certain facets of your life
and allows me to put my arms around you and feel your warm and living
body against mine, I’ll take it. Anything else <‛ Matt gave a shrug.
Declan had heard Matt mention his side of the event a couple of
times in passing, but it hadn’t really sunk in that watching your partner
nearly die was pretty damn traumatic in its own way. He crooked a finger
at Matt. Matt walked toward him and stopped directly in front of Declan.
Declan grabbed a handful of Matt’s shirt, bent him down, and kissed him.
‚Do I get to undress you?‛
‚Hell yes.‛
Sliding fingers under the edge of Matt’s dark blue polo, Declan
stood up and tugged it off over his partner’s head. Matt’s chest was pale
skin dusted with red-gold body hair that narrowed below his pecs and
trailed down to his belly button. Declan brushed his fingers down over a
nipple, past ribs, to the waistband of Matt’s jeans. His brain rationalized
that, since they were both standing up, this ought to be a lot less awkward
than early in the afternoon. He managed to undo the belt without too
much fumbling and shoved jeans and boxers together down past Matt’s
thighs. There might have been a lot of groping earlier and the getting off
part, but there hadn’t been a lot of looking.
Matt kicked his pants the rest of the way off his feet while Declan’s
eyes roved down the sharp angle of hip bones and the rosy half-hard cock.
He couldn’t decide if he wanted to run his hands all over Matt’s body just
for the sheer possibility of having a willing partner or if that was just plain
twisted.
The decision was taken out of his control for the moment, as Matt
began to strip Declan. He obviously had a better idea of what he wanted
because, once the shirt was on the floor, Matt’s face was buried against
Dec’s collar bone, nipping and sucking and working his way down the
center of Dec’s chest until he was on his knees. When Declan’s jeans got
pushed down to his knees, his prick bobbed free, achingly hard. The hot
swipe of a tongue startled him enough that he took a reflexive step back.
Not exactly a bright move. He flailed and sat down suddenly on the bed
behind him. If the bed hadn’t been there, he would have undoubtedly
ended up sprawled on the floor.
Matt snickered. ‚Damn, Dec, be careful.‛ He yanked Declan’s pants
the rest of the way off. ‚Scoot back on the bed,‛ Matt suggested. Declan
obeyed, and Matt crawled up the length of Dec’s legs to lie on top of him.
For a minute his mouth was an all-out assault on Dec’s, tongue pushing
between Declan’s teeth, then he was nibbling on the side of Dec’s throat.
He was caressing and stroking Declan’s chest and sides and hips, his
hands sliding under his body to knead his ass. Just about the time Dec
thought he was going to come like some inexperienced teenager, Matt
slowed.
One hand was cupped against the back of Declan’s head; the other
arm was wrapped around Dec’s waist, holding their bodies tight together
but motionless.
‚I’m overwhelming you<sorry<‛ Matt whispered, his voice
husky and low. Declan wanted to protest that he could handle whatever
Matt wanted, but he couldn’t seem to get the words out.
Matt took hold of Declan’s hand, guiding it down over his body,
dragging it over a nipple and abs and groin, down over a hard cock and
balls beneath, and up over a hip. ‚Would it help if I just put my hands
behind my back and let you<do whatever?‛
‚Yeah, I guess.‛
Matt rolled over and tucked his hands under the small of his back.
It must have taken some iron control because Declan noticed how flushed
Matt’s ivory skin was over his chest and throat and the leak of pre-cum
from his cock. Declan hesitantly ran his hand over the flat stomach
muscles and hard lines of hip bones. Hell, when had that little dip where
the obliques cut in over top of the bone started to look like the perfect
place for his tongue? He bent his head and tasted the skin there, licking in
the direction of Matt’s dripping hard cock. That was the defining line,
wasn’t it? If he sucked another guy’s prick, he stopped being straight,
right? And if he chickened out, he wasn’t really answering the questions
his head was torturing him with.
He lapped up the deep rosy length of Matt’s prick. The taste was
slightly salty, slightly musky, and he heard a little inhale from Matt. He
glanced up toward Matt’s face. The man’s pupils were blown wide, his
lips parted. For a moment Declan didn’t breathe. He wasn’t sure he’d ever
had anyone look at him with that level of raw smoldering lust.
‚Do<something,‛ Matt said, a low growl in his tone.
Declan opened his mouth and went down on Matt, slightly gagging
himself because he misjudged how far he dipped his head. He swore
mentally and tipped his head at different angle, wondering how
appallingly bad he was at this. Maybe not too awful; Matt was making
faint noises that sounded like he was really enjoying it.
‚Dec<gonna<close<‛
Oh. He recognized that warning and lifted his head fast enough to
avoid most of the splatter. He wasn’t sure he could deal with the spit or
swallow quandary.
Matt pulled his hands out from under his body and hooked Dec
under the armpits, dragging him back up the length of Matt’s body for a
long, open-mouthed kiss. They lay plastered together for several minutes,
Declan’s cock trapped in the warmth between their bodies.
‚Any chance you own lube?‛ Matt asked.
‚Uh<no.‛
‚Then you’re going to have to let me up so I can go get it out of my
bag.‛
‚Do I even remotely want to know why you brought lube with
you?‛
Matt grinned. ‚It cuts down on the friction problem when you jack
off.‛
‚And you were<No, forget it. Don’t tell me ‘cause this is messing
with my head bad enough as it is. Just go get it.‛ Declan slid off onto the
mattress.
‚You’ve had girlfriends. I’m guessing you have condoms?‛ Matt
asked, halfway out the bedroom door.
‚Yeah, those I have.‛
Bottoming wasn’t something Matt did much of, but he rationalized
if he represented an experiment in alternate sexuality for Dec, he might as
well offer the whole deal. Getting fucked by the guy he’d been secretly
drooling over for months certainly had its allure. Of course this was
dependent on if that was what Declan wanted.
Matt came back, lube in hand, and flopped on the bed next to
Declan. ‚You know at some point I think the shaking from the inhaler
stopped. Either that or you’re jazzed enough not to care.‛
‚It’s not totally gone, but you could say I’m preoccupied with other
things.‛
Skimming a hand down over Dec’s heavily muscled chest, Matt
sucked a spot below one nipple until it left a faint mark. The near
whimper that inspired in Dec amused Matt.
‚So<you want me to suck you off or you want to screw me or
what?‛
Declan’s eyes widened. ‚I< I haven’t got a freakin’ clue.‛
‚Okay, so screw me or, rather, let me ride you.‛
‚Uh< okay.‛
Matt couldn’t quite decide if Dec looked rather confused or slightly
panic stricken. He pulled a knee up toward his chest and squirted some of
the lube on his own fingers and prepped himself a bit. Then he lubed up
Dec’s fingers and guided them to the entrance. ‚You can finger fuck me a
little first.‛
‚Damn< are you sure I’m not gonna hurt you?‛
‚If you do, I’ll complain,‛ Matt replied with a grin. ‚Just relax.‛
Declan was incredibly tentative, to the point where Matt began to
rock back against the pressure trying to increase the pace. Probably by
blind luck more than anything else, the two fingers grazed his prostate,
and he gasped a little, his cock perking up a bit.
‚Shit! Did I hurt you?‛ Declan asked.
‚Hell no< do it again.‛
It wasn’t an expert job by any means, but a couple of minutes had
Matt nearly hard again. ‚Time to glove up.‛ He pushed Declan onto his
back and tore open the foil pack. ‚You want to do it or let me?‛
Declan held out his hand and rolled the condom on. Matt rubbed a
generous amount of slick over it, and the tight shudder that ran through
Declan had Matt guessing this was likely to be over pretty fast. He
straddled Declan’s thighs and lowered himself. The slight burn became a
divinely full sensation. Declan’s breathing was so uneven Matt wondered
if this whole thing was too much for his partner’s damaged lungs to
handle.
Matt sat motionless for a number of seconds, changing his opinion.
The tight grimace, the fists against the sheets< Dec was hovering on that
knife edge. Lifting a couple inches and falling again, Matt reveled in the
pleasurable sensation. A couple more times and Declan was bucking
beneath him, coming hard and groaning out his ecstasy. Matt let the hard
writhing thrusts slam into him, arching his back so Declan hit that spot
inside him as closely as possible.
Sprawling limply on the sheets beneath Matt, Declan looked dazed.
‚Fuck< Wow<God, I think I blew a fuse,‛ he panted.
Matt snickered. His cock bobbed thick and rigid against Dec’s
lower abs. He took hold of Declan’s hand and wrapped it around his cock.
‚Finish me.‛
Declan was less delicate this time. When Matt came again, body
clenching around Declan’s slowly softening prick, he thought his partner’s
eyes were going to roll back in his head. Matt eased off and collapsed
beside Dec.
‚Good?‛ he asked, feeling thoroughly sated and drowsy.
‚Oh yeah.‛
Chapter Six
In the wee hours of the night, Declan was awake again. God, his
sleep pattern was so completely hosed. Beside him, Matt’s breathing was
slow and even. As he stared at the ceiling, Declan tried to settle the
churning of his mind. He’d sucked off his partner and fucked him too. His
utterly willing and very male partner. It had been half inept fumbling on
his part and half absolutely mind blowing. I’m gay, and I’ve been denying
it, his brain concluded, except he’d had some really amazing sex with
some of his past girlfriends, and a really good set of boobs got him hard.
What the hell did this mean?
He carefully got out of bed and padded out into the den. He
snagged the blanket that was still lying on the back of the sofa and
wrapped it around himself as he walked out onto the deck. The ocean was
calmer than it had been earlier. He sat in one of the deck chairs, staring
out at the water, trying to empty his head.
After a while he heard a tiny sound and realized that Matt was
standing by the door watching him. He wondered how long he’d been
standing there.
‚Do you think you’re hiding?‛ Declan asked.
‚Are you implying my surveillance skills bite?‛
‚Yeah, but only a little.‛
Matt walked over to the railing and leaned back against it, facing
Declan. He was wearing only his jeans. ‚Whatever conclusion you think
you’ve come to, it’s never that simple or straight forward.‛
‚Your shrink side is showing.‛
‚I know.‛ Matt turned and faced the ocean for a while. Eventually
he said, ‚If your chest starts hurting, promise me you’ll come inside and
not play the macho bullshit card.‛
‚Yeah, okay.‛
Matt walked back inside, and Declan was surprised. He had kind
of expected more specific advice, a lecture<something. He sat on the deck
until the blanket just wasn’t cutting it anymore for keeping him warm in
the cool night breeze off the sea. He was also beginning to cough.
Back inside, he glanced at the clock in the den. It read just shy of
four a.m. Now that he was up and moving, he noticed that his chest was
starting to get that tight, can’t-get-enough-air feeling. Where was the
fucking inhaler? Bedroom, it had to be in the bedroom because he had let
Matt convince him to use it earlier. He shuffled in that direction, one hand
on the wall, because he was feeling a little light headed.
He groped on the nightstand in the near darkness and finally found
the inhaler, jamming it in his mouth and using it. He sank onto the bed,
waiting hopefully for the relief and dreading the shakes. A warm hand
pressed against his back.
‚Trouble breathing?‛ Matt asked.
‚Kinda.‛ Declan coughed some more.
‚That stuff only lasts about four hours, and your lungs are nowhere
near healed,‛ Matt said softly. He sat up in the bed and spread his legs,
pulling Declan back into his arms.
The soft heat of his partner’s body was delicious, and Declan
cursed himself for not realizing just how cold he’d gotten. It was
November, for Christ’s sake, and the tail end of the warm weather was
deserting the area.
‚Are you trying to add pneumonia to your list of respiratory
issues?‛ Matt chided him.
Declan knew he deserved it. Oh great, here comes the shaking part.
His teeth chattered together slightly as the meds began to kick in. Being
cold wasn’t helping.
Matt jammed the pillows up against the headboard and arranged
their bodies so Declan was leaning on him but still mostly upright.
Breathing was getting easier. Why did the warm hands innocuously
rubbing his back and arms seem more intimate than the sex they’d had?
His head drooped on Matt’s shoulder as yet another wave of exhaustion
slammed him.
Soft lips kissed his temple. ‚I probably should have chased your
butt back inside earlier, but I figured you could use some thinking time.‛
‚Don’t wanna think any more.‛
Matt laughed softly. ‚Yeah, thinking’s not your strong suit.‛ He
rapped his knuckles lightly on Declan’s head.
I am so fucking pathetic, thought Declan as he curled into the
comforting warmth of Matt’s embrace.
* * * * *
‚I have to go pick Kenny up from daycare at noon. They’re having
some kind of in-service thing and closing down for the afternoon,‛ said
Matt, eyeing Declan who was sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen,
hands wrapped around a coffee cup.
‚Uh, okay.‛
‚I’m still supposed to babysit you for roughly another twenty-four
hours.‛
‚I think I can manage to scrape by.‛
‚You’ve never met my son. I was thinking you could tag along and
we’ll go back to my place and hang out for a while.‛ Since Declan had
spent a while that morning coughing and making that tight face where he
pretended there was nothing wrong, Matt wasn’t exactly thrilled with the
idea of leaving his partner on his own for the rest of the day.
‚I guess.‛
* * * * *
‚Dang, when you said he looked like you, you weren’t kidding,‛
said Declan. He sat in the front seat of the car and watched Matt buckling
his son into the car seat in the back. The little boy had the same red hair,
pale complexion, and face shape as his father. ‚What’d you do, clone
him?‛
Matt smiled. ‚That’s one Maria hasn’t come up with yet. Although
I think that’s probably due to the whole spending-nine-months-pregnant
thing.‛
‚Mommy said she’d see me after dinner. Can we get hamburgers
for dinner? Who’s that?‛ piped up Kenny.
‚That is my partner, Declan Foster. He and I work together,‛ said
Matt.
‚Catching the bad drug dealers and putting ‘em in jail,‛ Kenny
replied.
Declan was amused. ‚Yeah, pretty much.‛
‚Are we going to go catch the bad guys?‛
‚No. I don’t have to work today.‛ Matt slid into the driver’s seat
and started the car.
‚Then why is he with you?‛
‚He got hurt when we were at work a couple days ago,‛ Matt
answered.
‚Did he have blood?‛
‚No, it wasn’t that kind of hurt. He got shocked and fell into the
water and couldn’t breathe for a while. His lungs are still healing up.‛
‚’Cause he’s not like my fish.‛
‚Huh? Oh yeah. Dec can’t breathe underwater.‛
They drove to Matt’s apartment. It had the large quantity of kid
gear and toys Declan associated with other friends who had children.
There was a twenty-gallon aquarium in the corner of the main room, and
Kenny immediately dragged a stool over in front of it.
‚Can I feed ‘em, Daddy?‛ the boy asked.
‚Yeah sure, not too much, remember?‛ Matt replied over his
shoulder.
* * * * *
‚I think I need an engineering degree to put this thing together,‛
said Declan.
Matt looked up from the stack of bills he was paying. Declan was
seated on the floor, and there was a pile of Bionicle parts spread on the
floor in front of him. Kenny was busily alternating between putting one
together and making the one already assembled attack a toy truck.
‚There is an instruction booklet around somewhere. Kenny, open
the drawer in the coffee table and see if the instructions are in there for the
blue guy.‛
‚He’s a Toa, Dad,‛ Kenny replied, in that tone only a preschooler
can manage to indicate an adult is clueless.
‚If you say so. I’d have to look at the label on the box,‛ Matt
replied.
Kenny fished a messy stack of little booklets out of the table and
plopped them in front of Declan. ‚Are we going to go get hamburgers for
dinner?‛
‚Nope, not today. I’m not in the mood for that particular fight with
your mother.‛
‚I take it your ex is not a fan of fast food?‛ Declan asked.
‚My ex is<‛ Matt eyed his son. ‚Is kind of right-wing militant
about avoiding anything with sugar, or chemicals, to the point of near
psychosis. I pick my battles. If Kenny’s with me two or three times in a
week, we indulge in bad-for-you junk food one of those days. We went to
House of Mouse Pizza & Games back at the beginning of the week.‛
‚Eh, I’ve heard that place is a bit of a sanity threat,‛ said Declan.
‚You heard right, but it’s a slam dunk if you’re under the age of
ten.‛
* * * * *
After Matt’s son was collected, Matt gave Declan a lift back to his
house.
‚Are you going to be okay by yourself?‛ Matt asked, parking in the
driveway.
‚Yes, Mom, I can handle it. Scout’s honor and all that jazz,‛ Declan
shot back.
‚So where’s your inhaler?‛
‚Uh<‛
Matt slapped it into Declan’s hand. ‚You left it lying in the
bedroom.‛
‚So that’s where I would have looked for it.‛
‚What if you’d needed it this afternoon?‛
‚Jesus, you are really in full-blown parent mode today, aren’t
you?‛ Declan replied.
‚Right at the moment, I’m thinking my four-year-old at least has
the presence of mind to ask for help when he needs it.‛
‚Yes, Mom.‛
Matt punched him in the shoulder. ‚If you get into trouble, call me.
If you get into real trouble, you damn well better call 911.‛
‚I will.‛ Declan got out of the car and watched Matt back out of the
driveway. He let himself in and dropped his keys on the table inside the
door. The house seemed empty. After having Matt there for three days,
his absence was a noticeable void.
* * * * *
Every time Matt reached for his phone, he told himself he needed
to give Declan some space and conned himself out of calling. Big life
changes needed processing time. Matt flipped on the TV, and it displayed
the cartoon channel. That reminded him that he had promised to take
Kenny to the ‚fish museum‛ sometime next week. He’d better put that
into his PDA before it slipped his mind.
Chapter Seven
‚Since you’re not cleared for field work for another week, I have
the perfect job for you,‛ said Ray, clapping a hand on Declan’s shoulder.
Declan was seated at his desk in the DEA office talking to Nanette. ‚We
have thirty-four boxes of unlogged evidence from the Bousch Street raid.
It’s been sitting downstairs in storage for seven weeks now. I think you
could make fabulous use of your time this week cataloging that stuff.‛
Declan grimaced. ‚Could you just shoot me instead? It’d be a lot
less painful. What’s Pulaski doing during my time in exile?‛
‚He and Paul are off to have a little chat with the esteemed Tevon,
who might have some more tidbits to toss our way, for a fee I’m sure,‛
answered Ray.
‚Just great,‛ muttered Declan.
‚I’ll remind Matt to update you when he gets back. Can’t have you
totally out of the loop, can we?‛
* * * * *
Thirty-four boxes, each filled with heaps of evidence bags and ream
after ream of office records from the U-Store-It-Now locker of Fitzroy’s
Dry Cleaning, lined one entire wall of the basement storage room of the
DEA offices. Fitzroy’s had been doing more than just cleaning clothes;
they’d been offering a side order of weed to go. Nearly two months had
elapsed since the bust, and there were four more months to go until the
case went to trial. Declan popped open the first box. Half the game plan
was supposed to involve him scanning all the paper records so an
accounting specialist could review them later.
About three hours into the ‚fifth ring of hell‛, Declan began to
cough. Some of the stacks of paper were thick with dust, and he suspected
a little mouse poop was present too. Jesus God, if he was still sane after a
week of this, it might just qualify as some kind of miracle. He wiped a
layer of dust off the top of the next box. Damn, how many years had the
dry cleaning place been stowing its long-dead back records there?
Another round of coughing shook his body. He sat down on a chair
next to the scanner and the computer and swigged a sip of soda from the
bottle on the table. It didn’t seem to help much with the coughing. He was
starting to get that stupid constricted feeling in his chest. Fuck, he
probably needed the inhaler. Where had he left it? He racked his brain,
trying to remember, but his thoughts seemed to be sluggish. He had
actually brought the wretched thing with him and put it<in his desk
drawer<two stories above. A long string of muttered obscenities passed
through his lips. He pushed himself up from the chair and trudged
toward the elevator at the far end of the hallway. Every step seemed
worse, and he braced a hand on the wall gasping. Somebody had placed
an engine block on his chest, and his vision was going a little fuzzy
around the edges.
He heard footsteps on the stairs at the far end of the hallway, which
went from an average walking pace to a sudden sprint.
‚Dec! Holy shit! What happened?‛ Matt demanded, sliding an arm
around Declan’s waist to support him.
‚Think<too much<dust,‛ Declan gasped out.
‚Where the hell’s your inhaler?‛
Declan gestured upward with a finger. ‚Desk.‛
‚You fucker! You’re supposed to keep it within reach!‛ Matt
snapped. He pulled Declan toward the elevator, one of Declan’s arm slung
over Matt’s shoulders.
Matt jabbed the call button. ‚Christ on a crutch, Dec, you look like
you’re about to pass out.‛ The elevator door creaked open, and Matt
dragged him inside.
The elevator was infuriatingly slow, but there was no way Declan
would be able to walk up two flights of steps. Matt listened to the
agonizing wheeze of his partner’s breathing. He grabbed Declan’s jaw and
looked at his face. His lips were darker than usual.
When the elevator door opened again, Matt pulled him out and
headed down the hall to the group’s office. The only person in the room
was Nanette.
‚Call 911 now!‛ shouted Matt. He eased Declan to the floor beside
his desk and began groping madly through the drawers. He found the
inhaler and dropped to his knees beside his partner. Aw hell, Declan’s lips
had a bluish cast to them now. Matt shook the inhaler hard, jammed it in
Dec’s mouth and pushed it.
‚Breathe slow, Dec,‛ Matt begged. Declan’s breathing seemed to be
shifting to frantic shallow gulps.
‚EMS is on their way,‛ said Nanette, phone in her hand.
‚You have your epi pen?‛ asked Matt. He knew she kept one
around for her bee-sting allergy.‛
‚Uh, yeah.‛
‚Get it.‛
‚Is this some sort of allergic reaction?‛
‚No, I don’t think so, but epi’s a bronchodilator, and this is bad.‛
Matt rubbed Declan’s chest. The man was looking groggy.
Nanette brought Matt her epi-pen, and Matt stabbed it into
Declan’s leg. Another couple of excruciating minutes ticked by. Declan’s
breathing began to ease, but he was shaking badly too. Matt wrapped his
arms around Declan, holding him, rubbing his back. ‚Breathe, just
breathe.‛
It took another ten minutes for EMS to arrive; the beginnings of
rush hour traffic had slowed them.
After a quick vital check, they immediately got Declan on oxygen.
His sats were in the seventies, and Matt suspected they had been much
lower earlier.
The rest of the team and office staff were looking on as Declan was
wheeled out on a stretcher.
‚I’m going with him,‛ Matt told Ray.
* * * * *
The ER staff tried to stop Matt from staying with Declan. ‚I’m his
partner!‛ he told them angrily, and it wasn’t until half an hour later that
he realized they probably assumed a different kind of ‚partner‛ than he
had actually meant. Considering he was sitting here, literally holding
Dec’s hand, he supposed it seemed like a reasonable assumption.
Loaded up with antihistamines and steroids to improve his
breathing, Declan was drowsing in the ER bed, oxygen cannula under his
nose.
‚They gonna keep me?‛ Declan mumbled.
‚I don’t know. I guess it depends on if they think you’re gonna
tank again if they take you off the oxygen and the IV and all.‛
‚I’m sorry.‛
‚For what?‛ Matt asked.
‚Thought if th’ inhaler was at work, was fine.‛
‚I’m not sure any of us realized how much dust and stuff was in
those boxes.‛ Matt’s opposite hand strayed up to Declan’s head, and he
brushed Dec’s sweaty hair back from his forehead.
Declan gave him a sad half-smile.
‚It’ll be okay,‛ Matt whispered.
‚Want t’ be done with this<’n back to normal.‛
‚You’re an impatient bastard, you know. You and Kenny.‛
‚He’s four.‛
‚Uh –huh, and some days you behave like you are too.‛
* * * * *
Surprisingly the hospital didn’t keep Declan overnight. They did,
however, give him some new meds that were theoretically supposed to
help prevent this from happening again. Declan slouched exhaustedly in
the passenger seat of Matt’s car. He had dozed a little in the ER, but the
long struggle to improve his breathing had sapped all his energy.
‚When you drop me off, I think I’m just going to bed,‛ Declan said.
‚What the fuck makes you think I’m just going to drop you off? I’m
damn near tempted to find a playpen big enough to contain you and lock
you in it.‛
‚I’ll be fine. They put enough drugs in my body to embalm me.‛
‚No,‛ Matt said flatly.
‚No what?‛
‚No. You are not spending the night alone. You’ll wake in the
middle of the night and wander around the back deck in the cold. You
better get used to me being your shadow for a while.‛
Declan wondered if that translated to sleeping in the same bed,
cuddled up against Matt’s body. They’d been basically avoiding the
events of last week for a couple days now. Had Matt decided there was a
limit to how much ‚experimentation‛ he was going to allow while Declan
wracked his soul for a way to understand his sexual ambivalence?
At the house, Declan plodded inside and headed straight for the
bedroom. He was too tired to cope with anything else. He toed off his
sneakers and flopped onto the bed.
He had almost drifted to sleep when the bed dipped beside him.
‚Come here, you moron,‛ Matt whispered, pulling Declan into a
tight hug. ‚If you do that again, I swear<I’m going to have a nervous
breakdown.‛ The kiss was hungry with a tinge of desperation. Afterward
Declan’s head was cradled to Matt’s shoulder, as arms and legs held him
snug to a hard warm body.
It took a few minutes for Declan to realize that the tiny jerks of
Matt’s body were silent sobs. He touched his fingers to Matt’s face; it was
wet.
‚Matt?‛
His partner’s breath caught, and there was an audible swallow.
‚Yeah<what?‛
‚I<I’m really glad you’re here.‛
‚Good< ‘cause I need to hold you.‛
Declan turned his head slightly and let himself relax into the
comfort of Matt’s body. Somewhere in the foggy corner of his tired mind,
he suspected the fact that Matt was this upset by what had happened was
important, but he couldn’t puzzle it out before he fell asleep.
Matt cursed himself. First the near miss in the water, then the deal
in the basement today< The doctor in the ER had implied that the trick
with the epi-pen, risky though it was, was probably the only thing that
had kept Declan breathing. Matt was having trouble getting the image of
Dec’s pale, almost gray, skin and cyanotic lips out of his head. It was
almost as terrifying as the CPR out on the dock. Admit it. You’ve lusted after
Declan for months, and now that there’s a possibility he might be interested back,
you’re falling for him like a love-sick teenager. He’s your partner, damn it. This
could go so very wrong…
Then why did it feel so good?
In the darkness of the bedroom, Matt snuggled Declan in his arms,
so very relieved he had the chance to do this. Given all the meds and all
the hours slowly fighting his way back to something approximating
normal breathing, his partner was far too exhausted to stay awake. Matt
didn’t care; just holding him was enough right now. The burn of tears was
back, and he choked them down. It was bad enough a few had escaped
earlier. He was surprised that Dec had been so gentle in his comment after
he had noticed Matt was crying.
When was the last time he’d cried? The first night in San Diego that
Maria had let him see Kenny again, after four months without his son.
That night after Kenny had fallen asleep, he’d rocked his son like he was a
toddler and let the tears fall.
* * * * *
What the hell was that freaking noise? It took Declan a good several
seconds to recognize that it was the ringtone on his cell phone jolting him
out of sleep. The fact that it was muffled by his pants pocket didn’t make
it any more comprehensible. He rolled over sufficiently to dig it out.
‚Hullo?‛ he mumbled, without looking at the display.
‚Foster, have you seen your partner?‛ Ray Groseman demanded.
‚Pulaski was supposed to be here now for a briefing before we all go to
court for the Rutner case this afternoon.‛
‚Uh<I think he’s asleep.‛
‚Did he crash out on your sofa? I know he was pretty freaked
about what happened yesterday.‛
Declan glanced about twelve inches away. Matt was sprawled in
the bed beside him, one eye barely open.
‚Something like that.‛ Declan wasn’t about to confess to Matt being
in his bed.
‚Go kick him awake and tell him to get his ass in here by noon. I
want to make sure he doesn’t fuck up if they call him to testify today.‛
‚Got it.‛
‚You okay? I was surprised they sent you home.‛
‚I’m doing all right. More meds, more rest< They don’t want me
doing much of anything for a couple more days.‛
‚No more keeling over at work. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,‛ said
Ray.
Declan thumbed off his cell phone.
‚Who ’as that?‛ Matt asked, his voice thick with sleep.
‚Ray. I’m supposed to go kick you off the sofa and tell you to get
there before noon to discuss your deposition on the Rutner case.‛
‚Shit. I forgot that was today. I blame you for my brain fart.‛ Matt
scrunched up his face in frustration.
A sliver of sunlight was shining through the curtains, and Declan
noticed the way it highlighted the bright red-gold hair on Matt’s unshaven
face. At sometime over the past week, Matt had apparently abandoned the
concept of doing a full shave and merely trimmed his neck. This left the
beginnings of a mustache and beard. Part of Declan wanted to rag on his
partner for taking the slack choice except<The way it framed Matt’s
mouth in such a raw sexy way hit Declan like a sucker punch. Did he
dare?
He leaned over, lips hovering an inch away from Matt’s. ‚I think
I’ll opt for something other than a kick,‛ he whispered, and kissed Matt.
Matt cupped the back of Declan’s head, pulling him deeper into the kiss.
When they broke apart, Matt asked, ‚Do we have time for a
shower?‛
‚It’s only 9:30. If Ray’s giving you until noon, you have plenty of
time.‛
‚I was kind of hoping you’d join me.‛
‚I could do that.‛ God, the look in those intense blue eyes promised
Declan something more than hot water and soap.
* * * * *
‚Is this the part where you drop the soap and ask me to bend down
and get it?‛ Declan asked.
Matt had to smirk. ‚Well, I could, but believe me without us both
having a good idea what’s going on, that’s the sort of thing that leads to
broken wrists and split skulls.‛
‚Why does that sound disturbing like the voice of experience?‛
Matt’s memory flickered back to a spectacular wipeout between
him and an ex-boyfriend quite a few years back. ‚Let’s just say trying to
explain why you’re mostly naked, wet, and half covered in your partner’s
blood is kinda awkward when facing the EMTs.‛
‚One of these days I want to hear that story,‛ Declan commented.
‚Hands, however, can do some really nice things when
everything’s all nice and slippery.‛ Matt caressed down the side of
Declan’s chest, soap slicking the skin. He trailed his hand to the sweet dip
over the hip bone while he nipped at the edge of Declan’s jaw. Declan’s
cock prodded the front of Matt’s thigh, and he stroked it. The little
shuddering groan that elicited was just plain hot. ‚Turn around,‛ Matt
suggested. He guided Declan backward into the spray of the water and
slid his finger down the crack of Declan’s butt. Glute muscles tightened.
‚I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want you to have an idea what it
feels like to have my fingers there,‛ Matt whispered. He nipped at the side
of Declan’s throat, one arm wound around his partner to steady him. He
rubbed the tight crinkle of the opening between Declan’s butt cheeks, just
teasing for a minute or more before pushing in a fingertip. For a moment,
Declan’s entire body clenched then very slowly relaxed. Matt suspected it
was more a reflex response than anything else. The shower was not a
place for anything more. Maybe later in bed, with a lot of lube; then again,
there were some guys who never liked it.
Matt slid his hand around to Declan’s prick, bobbing slightly, still
completely hard. He stroked him off with long twisting pulls. Declan
splattered cum on the shower wall. The expression on Declan’s face—his
teeth biting his lip—just about sent Matt over his own edge. He pushed
Declan against the wall and rutted against Declan’s hip until his own
orgasm spurted semen up Declan’s back.
When they were back in the bedroom getting dressed, Declan said,
‚Is there a point where I stop feeling like a clueless, horny
fifteen-year-old?‛
Matt weighed his answer. ‚When you follow what your heart and
body want and stop trying to figure out what you’re doing wrong.‛
‚Half my brain keeps going with the wrong part, and then I touch
you<.‛ Declan sank onto the bed, elbows on his knees, hands hanging
between. ‚Anyway you need to get going soon, else Ray’s going to rip
you a new one.‛
‚I’ve got an hour.‛
‚How’s what we’re< doing gonna affect work?‛ Declan sounded
like the idea was being dragged out of him.
‚Unless you’re planning on groping me in the briefing room, what
we do out of work is none of their damn business,‛ Matt responded. He
leaned down and kissed Declan. ‚Take it easy, okay? I want you not blue
and wheezy when I get back.‛
Declan rolled his eyes.
Chapter Eight
Cooking was not exertion. Cooking was making food so you could
eat, Declan rationalized. He was most of the way through making
enchiladas when Matt came back from court.
‚I wanna know why Nanette thinks you can’t cook. ‘Cause
whatever you’re making smells really good,‛ said Matt, walking into the
kitchen.
‚Enchiladas. And ten bucks says they’re better than the ones we got
from Sal’s when we were on the meth-ring stakeout two months ago.‛
‚Those were good but kind of drippy.‛
‚How’d the court thing go?‛ Declan asked.
‚So-so, you know how it is, all opening arguments and
protestations of innocence especially since Rutner opted out of the plea
bargaining.‛ Matt peeked over Declan’s shoulder into the pan. ‚Once the
trial gets into full swing, they might call you, even if you’re out on
medical leave.‛
‚I know. Ray warned me. It’ll be okay. All I have to do is sit on my
ass and answer questions. It’s not like they’re going to ask me to recreate
my part in the raid. That’s a wrestling match I’d just as soon not relive
anyway.‛
‚Nobody told you that diving off a flight of stairs so that asshat
wouldn’t get away was a bright idea.‛
‚I caught him though,‛ Declan replied.
‚Yeah, you did. You are just plain mental sometimes. Oh, Maria
texted me. She wants me to pick Kenny up from daycare tomorrow so she
and doofus can go to some party.‛
‚You want to bring him over here? He could build sand castles out
back or something,‛ Declan suggested.
‚Um, maybe.‛
* * * * *
Dinner went off smoothly, and Declan was pleased Matt liked the
food. Did this qualify as a date? If Matt had been a girl, Declan would
have definitely said it fell in the date category, but since it was Matt, he
wasn’t sure. Even before the near drowning thing, the two of them had
met for a meal a few times off duty. Now that they’d been having sex, did
that make it different?
Out on the deck, the two of them sat drinking beer.
‚What are we doing?‛ Declan blurted out.
‚Having a beer and watching the sun set.‛
‚I mean< you and me? Are we fuck buddies or friends with
benefits or what? God< I sound like one of my exes.‛
‚So long as you don’t sound like my ex. Declan, you’re my friend.
You’re my partner. And if you want to define it that way, also my lover,‛
said Matt.
‚Does that mean I’m gay and have been denying it all my adult
life?‛
‚Why do you assume you’re gay? Because we had sex?‛
‚Yeah, I guess.‛
‚It might be true, but then again, it might only be a partial truth.
When I was seriously involved with Craig, everyone who knew assumed I
was gay. When I met Maria and later married her, everyone assumed I
was straight. Neither is really true. Or maybe I should say both are true. A
lot of people fall at one end or the other, but some of us fall somewhere in
the middle. If you ask an average straight guy, he’d probably say I was
gay and faking it about liking women. If you asked an average gay guy,
he’d probably say I was either just playing around or gay without enough
balls to commit to a choice. Both ends deny the middle. Oh, and the ones
that acknowledge being bi exists thinks it translates to ‘will fuck anything
with a willing hole.’ There have been days when I thought I ought to just
give up and be celibate.‛
‚If the people at work find out<‛ Declan wasn’t sure how much of
a disaster that would be.
‚It’s San Diego, not Arkansas. If they find out, we deal,‛ replied
Matt. ‚On my end, getting shit from work would be easier than dealing
with Maria. She found out about Craig, but that was past tense. If she
finds out I’m seeing a guy now< I think I may see a raging, screaming
hissy fit in my future.‛
* * * * *
The evening breeze off the ocean was fairly stiff, but the
four-year-old didn’t seem to mind. Matt sat a few feet away from the heap
of sand that Kenny was building bucket-shaped towers around. Declan
had obliging fetched a few pails of water from the surf so the sand would
stick together.
‚Can we go swimming next time?‛ Kenny asked.
‚Depends on the weather, hon. It’s awfully cold today. I think you
would end up all cold and shivery,‛ said Matt.
‚He lives in California now. You ought to buy him a wetsuit,‛
Declan suggested.
‚Will has a wetsuit, and Mom says it was a fribless expense.‛
Matt smiled a little at the mispronunciation by his son. ‚Oh? And
what does your mother think he ought to spend his money on?‛
‚An airplane trip to take them to the place with the pointy tower.‛
‚Seattle?‛
‚I dunno. The loob is there too,‛ said Kenny.
Declan looked like he was going to choke.
‚Do you mean the place with all the paintings?‛ Matt asked.
‚Uh huh and a pyramid.‛
‚Aaah, you mean she wants to go to Paris.‛
‚I think so, but she said if she goes I would have to stay with
Grandma Lena for a while.‛
‚Punkin, if your mom goes to Paris for a while, you can stay with
me,‛ Matt replied.
‚That’d be cooler. Grandma Lena’s house has too much don’t-touch
stuff.‛
* * * * *
Another week of downtime did actually help with his respiratory
problems, Declan finally acknowledged. He was only using the inhaler
occasionally now and had even gotten in a few short jogs down the beach.
While Matt had spent most of the week in court, Declan had only been
called one day.
If he had to put a description on the thing between him and Matt,
he guessed he might have said they were feeling their way. Declan still
found himself wondering if Matt was going to decide he was frustrated
with Declan’s self-doubt. Some days it seemed little had changed between
them. They still traded insults and good-natured threats. Matt was just as
likely as ever to punch him in the shoulder or throw something at him.
But there were moments when they were alone that nearly took
Declan’s breath away in a whole new way. A hungry look from Matt in
the hallway at the end of the day, a stolen kiss outside the door of Matt’s
apartment while Kenny played inside, a hand on his waist when he was
cooking, all were just as amazing as the sex.
* * * * *
‚You can say no. You don’t have to do this. There are gay guys out
there that don’t do this,‛ Matt said. He was stretched out in the bed with
Declan’s delicious naked body snuggled in his arms. They had finally
returned to the topic of Matt’s long ago comment about liking to top.
‚You let me do you, more than once even. I want to know what it
feels like,‛ Declan said.
‚This is not actually meant to be some power game. If you want me
to quit, say so.‛
‚Got it.‛
Matt pulled him into a long kiss, letting his hands roam the hard
muscled planes and curves of his lover’s body. The dusting of dark chest
hair seemed to highlight the flat oval nipples and the definition of his
pecs. Below, a fine line ran from his belly button to the stiff curls around
his cock. It was a pretty cock, too, Matt thought, one of the few parts of
Dec’s body that wasn’t tanned. That wasn’t terribly noticeable right now,
though, since that cock was flushed dark, veins visible along the
underside.
‚Bend your knees, it’ll make it a little easier for me to get you
ready,‛ Matt said. He was generous with the lube. Declan had let him use
his fingers a couple of times so that should be at least somewhat familiar.
Slow and easy, he worked Declan loose, enjoying the hot little
moans and whimpers that drew from his lover. Kneeling between
Declan’s flexed legs, Matt shoved a pillow underneath his partner’s butt.
Having Dec on his hands and knees might have been ergonomically
easier, but Matt wanted the intimacy of facing each other.
When he pushed into Dec’s body, there was a sharp intake of
breath from his lover. Matt clenched his teeth. The hot tight sensation
brought him closer to the edge faster than he’d anticipated. He stilled, not
moving, waiting for Declan to adjust to the feeling. A few seconds passed,
and Declan gave him a fractional nod. Matt canted his hips back a couple
of inches and thrust in again. A low moan escaped from his partner.
Another couple of thrusts and Declan was mumbling, ‚God<
fuck< Matt<more<‛
He was obviously past anything approaching coherence. Not that
Matt was feeling much rational thought. In fact he was just about at the
no-return point. Declan writhed beneath him, muscles clenching his body
that much tighter around Matt. Matt came hard enough to darken his
vision and steal his breath. When Declan came seconds later, the hard
pulsing squeeze fried every last nerve Matt had left. His shaking arms
only held him up long enough to slide sideways a little and not land in a
limp heap directly on top of his lover.
Declan looked about, blissed out of his head, eyes sleepy, a wide
grin curving his lips. Matt let his fingers trace his lover’s features—the
slight curve of his nose, the pink of his mouth, that totally sexy little
dimple in his chin. It was late enough at night that the shadow of his
beard was evident, and Matt dragged his thumb across the rough texture.
‚Good?‛ Matt whispered.
‚Understatement.‛
* * * * *
‚You changed lanes eight times in one mile! Do you have a death
wish?‛ Matt lobbed the balled-up empty burger bag at the back of
Declan’s head as they walked up the hallway to the DEA office. Matt
decided it must have been Declan’s goal in life to annoy him today.
‚Oh, come on, it was like two or three times,‛ Declan replied as
they came back into the office.
‚It was eight. I counted. The next time you make a left hand turn
from the far right hand lane, I swear I’m going punch you!‛
There was laughter from Nanette, who was at her desk typing.
‚You two are so freakin’ married,‛ she teased.
‚Are not,‛ Matt shot back. ‚He doesn’t yell at me when I leave the
toilet seat up.‛
‚No, but the next time you put the plates in the frying pan full of
grease, I am gonna rip you a new one.‛ Declan grabbed him in a headlock
and ground his knuckles into Matt’s scalp. Matt twisted sharply and
managed to pin Declan face down across one of the desks, his thighs
pressed against Declan’s ass.
‚Do the two of you need to get a room?‛ commented Donovan as
he came in. ‚I take it we’re having one of those days when you’re both
acting like you’re sixteen.‛
‚Try half that much,‛ said Nanette.
Matt laughed and let go. Declan stood up, turned around, and
stuck out his tongue at Matt.
‚I don’t think you know what to do with that tongue,‛ Matt said.
‚Oh yeah?‛
In the next second, Declan had him slammed back against the wall,
mouth sealed over his in a hot aggressive open-mouthed kiss. The
intensity stirred the beginnings of arousal in Matt. Suddenly Declan
pulled away, an expression of wide-eyed fear on his face. He spun around
and bolted from the room. Matt was left standing there alone.
‚Gee, that wasn’t gay at all,‛ Donovan snarled sarcastically.
Matt took a deep breath. ‚Just drop it, Donovan. It’s none of your
business.‛ He went out the door in search of his partner.
It took several minutes to find him. On the far side of the building’s
parking lot, there were a couple of concrete benches under some trees.
Declan was facing away from the lot, elbows on knees, head hanging.
Matt was coming to recognize that posture as a sign of unhappiness and
torment in his lover.
Matt sat down on the bench beside him, hip to hip, facing in the
opposite direction.
‚I have just fucked my entire career and probably yours too,
haven’t I?‛ Declan asked softly.
‚Maybe, maybe not.‛
‚I am so sorry. We were joking around, and somehow I forgot that
part of<of what we do was off limits at work. God< I am so fucking
stupid. Have we gotten to the part where you punch me out for ruining
your life?‛
‚Nope.‛ Matt slid an arm around Declan’s body and hugged him,
placing a trail of kisses down the side of his lover’s face until he reached
Declan’s mouth. ‚That was one seriously hot kiss,‛ he whispered.
Declan’s head sank to rest on Matt’s shoulder.
‚I’m coming unglued,‛ Declan muttered.
‚It’s okay. I’ll put you back together. You still trust me?‛
‚Yeah, I do. That’s how this whole thing started, isn’t it? You
agreeing to let me try to figure out if I’ve been in denial most of my life.‛
‚Why do you think this is somehow a one-sided event?‛
‚I’m the screwed-up one who’s messing around, thinking some
magic wand is going to show up and tell me what side of the line I fall
on.‛
Matt clasped Declan’s head in his hands, tipping it up so they were
eye to eye. ‚Now I’m apt to punch you. Fuck society. Fuck the media. It
doesn’t have to be an all-or-nothing choice. You get to define what you
want.‛ The kiss he gave Declan was hard and demanding then softened as
Declan’s hand clenched in the fabric of Matt’s shirt. He wanted to add and
I hope what you want is me.
‚Is there any way to fix this?‛ Declan asked.
‚I don’t know, but I do think you have to suck it up and go back
inside and do your job.‛
* * * * *
Declan was surprised that nothing much got said until the end of
the day. He was halfway out to his car when Donovan approached him.
‚So was that thing this afternoon some kind of stupid stunt or are
you a fag?‛ Donovan demanded.
‚I don’t really want to talk about it,‛ Declan replied, hoping his
colleague would drop the subject.
‚Pulaski didn’t seem to be objecting much either. Is he a fag too?‛
‚I think you’d better ask him about that.‛
‚You’ve had girlfriends, a whole batch of them in fact. Ever fuck
any of them?‛
‚Yes, I’ve had sex with women.‛
‚But I guess you didn’t like it all that much.‛
‚Christ, Donovan, what difference does it make? I’m an agent, I do
my job, I’m in the line of fire every bit as much as you. Should I ask you if
you’re fucking Nanette? After all, she’s your partner, and she’s female.‛
Declan was getting thoroughly annoyed by the argument.
‚If I was, at least I’d be sticking my dick in the right hole!‛
Donovan gave Declan a shove and walked away.
* * * * *
The sun was dropping below the horizon when Declan walked up
from the surf, board tucked under his arm. The water was cold enough
that he’d kind of wished he’d worn his heavier wetsuit. He saw Matt
sitting on the back deck.
‚Where I come from, November is not surfing weather unless you
have a few screws loose,‛ commented Matt as Declan came up the steps.
‚Hence, the wetsuit, dude. If you think it’s that cold, why aren’t
you inside making faces at me through the glass?‛
‚It’s locked.‛
Setting the board against the railing, Declan bent down and tipped
up the base of the big ceramic chimenea and pulled out a key. ‚My spare
when I’m out,‛ he said. He walked up to the sliding glass door and
tapped in the entry code for the alarm system—051203—and he twisted
the key.
‚Do the numbers mean something?‛
‚The day I was sworn in as an agent,‛ Declan replied.
‚I guess that’s less obvious than your birthday.‛
‚Remind me to get a set of keys cut for you.‛ Declan started
stripping out of his wetsuit.
‚You’re being kind of prosaic after what happened.‛
Declan stopped and stood looking at Matt. What was he supposed
to say? That he was hovering halfway between pissed as hell at Donovan
and terrified that Ray would suggest his resignation. ‚I’m faking it,‛ he
said softly.
Matt ran his fingers through Declan’s wet hair. ‚Don’t fake it for
me. Why are you offering me keys?‛
‚Back to that trust thing. If I trust my partner enough to <‛ He had
to pause and convince himself keep going. ‚Trust him enough to have sex
with him, then I trust him enough to give him keys to my house. And
you’re over here a couple of nights a week anyway.‛
* * * * *
The Lakers were winning for a change. Declan was sprawled on the
sofa at Matt’s apartment watching the game. Matt had gone to the kitchen
to get another round of beer when a hard rattling sound caught his
attention. He looked in the direction of the noise and saw Matt’s cell
phone vibrating on the coffee table. Dang, the guy must have the phone
set on the highest level.
As Matt came back into the room, Declan said, ‚Your vibrator
called. I think it’s lonely.‛
‚I ought to dump this beer on your head. I turned off the ringtone
so it wouldn’t wake up Kenny.‛
Matt set down the bottles and picked up the phone, thumbing the
buttons to display the text. ‚Why am I so very unsurprised?‛
‚Who’s it from?‛
‚My ex. She can’t make it over to pick up her son because she’s at a
party.‛
‚I kind of wondered why you put Kenny to bed if she was
supposed to pick him up at nine,‛ said Declan. ‚I take it this is not the first
time she’s pulled this?‛
‚At least once a month, sometimes more, she opts out of picking
Kenny up when she said she would. I haven’t yet figured it out if this is
supposed to be some sort of dig by her or test of whether I can really live
up to the responsibilities of parenting. Or maybe I didn’t realize she had a
screw loose back when we were married. Anyway, it’s too hard
explaining to my son that his mother didn’t bother to show up. So these
days, if it’s late, I just go ahead a put him to bed. If she shows, I carry him
out, and he gets to go back to her in his pajamas. Not a big deal when
you’re four.‛ Matt flopped down on the sofa beside him.
‚You’re a good father. You step up to the plate when she pulls shit
on you. You moved coast to coast so you can see him regularly. Her loss is
my gain.‛
Matt gave him this mercurial little smile.
* * * * *
The briefing for the next raid was all business. A suspected meth
lab had been under surveillance for the past two weeks. Groseman stood
in the center of the office giving orders.
‚We don’t have much intel as to what kind of weapons this group
is likely to have. Assume handguns, and maybe knives. Anything bigger
is more of a liability in close quarters anyway. Verhulz and I tracked at
least four pickups a day from the building. Now that Foster’s been cleared
for duty, he and Pulaski witnessed what we think was a delivery of
supplies at about three a.m. Choi and Jacobs pulled in one of the low-level
street dealers. The haul was about a hundred bags of meth and a couple
dozen tablets of ecstasy. Nothing this crew deals seems to be opiate-based,
so we think this supports the idea that they’re cooking.‛
‚Oh, and you forgot the flunky we pulled that had a 0.45,‛ said
Nanette.
‚Yeah, back to the assume-these-people-are-armed part,‛ Ray
replied. ‚We have local PD loaning us six guys as backup per usual.
They’re meeting us in the parking lot behind the Fast-mart.‛
‚Are they bringing the rams or are we? ‘Cause I think ours are in
the surveillance van,‛ said Matt.
‚We should bring at least one of ours,‛ suggested Verhulz.
‚The building’s floor plan filed with the city about twenty-eight
years ago says there are eight apartments, four up and four down,‛ said
Declan. ‚Do we have any idea whether the cook lab is upstairs or down?‛
‚We’re guessing it’s on the ground floor, but only because hauling
heavy cans up the stairs would be a real pain in the ass.‛
Chapter Nine
The night was chill and damp, and Matt wondered what the
chances of rain were. Probably iffy at best. San Diego just never got that
much. Damn, there were days when he actually missed the concept of the
bone-chilling drizzle that D.C. sometimes got in the fall, that and the
leaf-changing thing.
‚Hey, you awake?‛ Declan asked, elbowing him.
‚Yes, I’m awake and glad I wore a long-sleeved shirt. Aren’t you
cold?‛
‚Yeah, a little. Guess I’m too buzzed to actually pay much attention
to that right now.‛
‚Adrenaline junky.‛ Matt poked at his earpiece. They had about
ten minutes before the green light was given. ‚Are you taking point? Or
am I?‛
‚I will,‛ said Declan. ‚That way if I fall in the water again you can
fish me out.‛
‚The nearest water is about two miles away, dude.‛
‚Then I’m in luck.‛
The remaining several minutes ticked by before Matt heard Ray’s
voice saying, ‚You are go‛ in his ear.
Weapons drawn, he and Declan approached the back entrance to
the apartment building along with four other men from SDPD. They
charged inside and began to clear the rooms of the building’s lower floor.
They flushed out two young men in hoodies, and two of the SDPD officers
cuffed them and began to force them outside.
The door of the second apartment had to be broken in. There was
the sound of hurried feet, and Declan eased around the frame of a door,
gun pointed. A man in low-riding jeans and a dark T-shirt was trying to
get a window open, presumably with the intent to escape. ‚Freeze! DEA!
Hands in the air! Now!‛ Declan shouted. The man grudgingly obeyed,
and Declan patted him down with one hand. No weapons. He began to
cuff him. Here was one more to shove in the direction of the SDPD officers
for transport and booking.
In the clearing of the rooms, Declan had lost track of Matt. He
tapped his earpiece. ‚I’m in apartment two. Pulaski, what’s your twenty?‛
‚He and Donovan were heading toward the steps,‛ replied Nanette
over the comms.
Declan went back out into the hallway and started up the stairs. He
could hear the sounds of people moving and yells of ‚Clear!‛ as officers
and agents moved through the rooms. He was almost to the top of the
stairs when the whump and roar of an explosion slammed him against the
wall.
‚Matt!‛ he screamed. Two of the cops came staggering down the
hall, Donovan Jacobs stumbling after them as flames began to lick out of
the doorway of the end apartment. Declan grabbed Jacobs by the shirt
front. ‚Where the fuck is Matt!‛ he shouted.
‚No idea. The dumb fag got separated,‛ Donovan said between
coughs. Declan just about threw him down the stairs right then and there;
instead, he grabbed one of the other officers. ‚We’re missing a man. I
think he’s still back there.‛
The other officer immediately followed Declan back to look for
Matt. It took a couple of frantic minutes to locate him. Matt was sprawled
unconscious on the floor of the kitchen in the apartment across from the
one already in flames. There was the beginning of a blood pool around his
head, and it appeared the force of the explosion had thrown him headfirst
against the sharp corner of the counter.
With the other officer’s help, Declan managed to sling Matt’s limp
body between them and drag him out the door, narrowly avoiding the
escalating flames. Coughing, eyes tearing, they made it down the stairs
without a further disaster and out into the grass behind the building. Matt
was lowered onto the ground as the other cop shouted for help.
Declan held Matt’s boneless body cradled in his arms, checking his
pulse and his breathing. His breathing was shallow, and his pulse was fast
and fluttery. Blood dripped steadily from the nasty gash in the side of his
head.
Nanette appeared at Declan’s side with a large first aid kit in her
hands. ‚Fire and EMS are on their way. They should be here in a few
minutes.‛ She ripped open a pair of gauze 4x4 packs and put them in
Declan’s hand. He pressed them against Matt’s wound.
‚I am going to kill Jacobs. He left Matt to die,‛ said Declan, his tone
absolutely flat.
‚He what?‛
‚He and Matt went upstairs together with two of the cops. After
the explosion happened, I asked him where Matt was, and he said ‘the
dumb fag got separated’ and he went down the stairs. Without Matt,
without even looking for him. I had to get Wilkinson to help me find my
partner.‛
‚Are you sure? I mean I know the guy can be an asshole
sometimes. He did seem kind of shaken by the blast.‛
‚He left Matt to die,‛ Declan snarled. In his arms, Matt stirred a
little, eyelids fluttering and head lolling. ‚Just lie still, babe. The
paramedics will be here soon.‛ He hugged Matt a little tighter.
Matt’s eyes finally opened, but his gaze was sleepy and unfocused.
‚Need to fin’ th’lab,‛ he slurred.
‚We found it. There was an explosion,‛ Declan said. ‚Shh, it’s
under control.‛ He rested his cheek against Matt’s forehead.
Matt babbled on about the need to find the lab, words slurred and
sometimes incoherent, asking the same things repeatedly.
Declan tried to soothe him but mostly settled for holding him and
praying for EMS to get there faster, tears burning in his eyes.
When the ambulance arrived, Nanette pried Declan away enough
that the paramedics could assess Matt.
‚Let them do their job,‛ Nanette said, one arm around Declan’s
body. They were standing a few feet away.
‚I should have been with him. I was busy cuffing the idiot who
tried to climb out the window. I trusted the team. I trusted Jacobs. When
this is done, I’m going to hunt that motherfucker down and choke the
living shit out of him!‛
The medical personnel were done with their initial assessment. An
IV had been started on Matt, and his head had been bandaged to control
the bleeding. He was lifted onto the stretcher, and they prepared to wheel
him back to the ambulance.
‚Go with them. I’ll talk to Ray. This sounds like an Internal Affairs
problem. Take care of your partner and don’t do anything stupid,‛ said
Nanette.
* * * * *
Declan wondered if Matt had been as bent out of shape as he felt,
back when the drowning thing happened. He sat tensely in the waiting
room, hoping for news, bargaining with God, making promises he wasn’t
certain he could pull off. Minutes ticked by, and most of the DEA team
arrived to wait with him. Jacobs was notably absent.
Ray drew Declan over to one corner. ‚Nanette gave me the short
version of what you told her. I need the whole story,‛ said the group
supervisor.
‚That prejudiced motherfucker left Matt to die!‛ Declan snapped.
Ray put a hand on Declan’s shoulder. ‚Possibly. In the heat of a
raid, sometimes people say things, stupid things. I need all the details. I’ve
already talked to Wilkinson; now I need your version.‛
Declan choked down his anger as best he could and told his boss
what had happened, ending with ‚I want his head on a platter.‛
‚Try to calm down. There’s enough corroborating evidence
between Wilkinson, the other cop Dodd, and what you said to turn this
over to IA. In the meantime, I want you to stay away from Donovan while
we try to get to the bottom of this.‛
Declan nodded.
Moments later a doctor came out looking for whoever was waiting
for news about Matt Pulaski. ‚He’s stable and not in immediate danger,
but<a CAT scan of his head revealed a small subdural hematoma; that’s
bleeding in his brain,‛ the doctor informed them.
Declan felt like the world was falling out from under him.
The doctor continued. ‚The good news is that it’s small, doesn’t
seem to be getting any worse, and it doesn’t seem to be affecting his
reflexes. That being said, it’s still a fairly serious injury. The game plan is
to move him to ICU and monitor him very closely for the next twenty-four
hours. If he remains stable, the prognosis is good. If he deteriorates, we
will probably want to take him to surgery.‛
‚B-brain surgery?‛ Declan asked. He heard the sound coming from
his mouth; it sounded halfway between a bad joke and abject terror.
‚Only if it becomes necessary. It would involve removing a small
section of skull so the clot could be removed and the bleeding stopped,‛
the doctor said. ‚But as I said, at the moment, he’s stable.‛
‚Can I see him?‛ Declan asked.
‚Shortly.‛
* * * * *
His partner wasn’t supposed to look fragile. Declan stood in the
curtained opening to the ICU cubicle. The nurse had told him that Matt
would probably be drowsy and disoriented; the injury to his brain was
only a couple of hours old. Slowly crossing the small room, Declan pulled
a stool away from its spot by the wall and set it beside Matt’s bed. He sank
onto it, feeling like his world had come far too close to disintegrating.
Matt’s eyes were closed. Numerous wires and tubes protruded
from his body, and the heart monitor bleeped in the background. Declan
carefully took Matt’s hand and held it between his own hands.
Please, please let him be okay. I need him in my life. I can’t do it without
him, Declan prayed. He raised Matt’s hand to his own mouth and kissed
Matt’s fingers.
‚Dec?‛ Matt mumbled, eyes slowly blinking open.
‚Yeah, it’s me.‛
Matt’s fingers flexed a little. ‚Somebody said there was an
explosion<‛
‚There was, in the apartment on the second floor. You were across
the hall.‛
‚Apartment? Where?‛
‚Eden Court. The meth lab.‛
‚Did we go there?‛ Matt asked.
‚Yeah, we did, you and me and the rest of the team. I’m guessing
you don’t remember any of it.‛
‚I< in the office we were all discussing the raid and how many
local cops we were borrowing.‛
‚That was back around noon, about seven hours ago at this point.
It’s okay; I think the head injury caused a memory gap,‛ Declan replied.
He hugged Matt’s hand to his chest. He would have preferred to pull Matt
up into his arms, but all the wires and tubes pretty much precluded that
idea.
‚Anybody else get hurt?‛
‚A few bangs and scrapes and a little smoke inhalation for one guy,
but nothing else major. You took the worst of the damage. Jesus, Matt, I
found you unconscious and bleeding less than fifty feet from the
explosion. Wilkinson and I had to carry you down the stairs.‛ Declan
squeezed his eyes shut because tears were threatening again. ‚Just<just
when I think I’m beginning to come to terms with how much I care about
you, I nearly lose you.‛ Declan had to suck up a lot of courage to keep
going. ‚I love you, Matt Pulaski.‛
Matt gave him a lopsided smile. ‚It’s about time you figured it out
because I’ve been in love with you for a while now.‛
Declan cupped a hand against Matt’s face, dragging his thumb
softly across Matt’s mouth. ‚Even in ICU, you give me attitude.‛ He stood
up and leaned over the rail with great care and placed a kiss on Matt’s
lips.
* * * * *
Internal affairs came to see Matt in ICU. At first he was thoroughly
confused; his memory of the previous day was garbled and gapped. He
was momentarily mad at Declan for not warning him about what had
happened but then revised his opinion to annoyance. The lack of
information from Declan was probably supposed to protect him.
He answered the two guys from internal affairs honestly,
confessing that he had no memory of the actual explosion and subsequent
injury. Yes, there had been tension between Donovan and him and Declan
too. Did he think Donovan Jacobs had intentionally abandoned him after
the explosion? Matt had no idea. He supposed it was conceivable, but
after the meth lab had exploded, the chaos would have been fairly
extreme. Did he believe Declan’s report of the incident was true? Yes, he
did. Pissed and upset as Declan might have been, that was not the sort of
thing his partner would invent.
As the IA men were about to depart, Matt asked them what the
likely outcome of all of this was. He was told that Jacobs was on
suspension while the investigation was being conducted; all other
decisions were pending.
The pain in Matt’s head was escalating again, making him feel like
someone had tried to cave the side of his skull in. Oh, yeah, only it was a
‚what‛ and not a ‚who‛, according to Declan, who had described the
sharp kitchen counter. Matt pushed the call button and prayed the nurse
would show up with pain killers in hand.
* * * * *
Declan crept into Matt’s hospital room. An MRI had shown that the
blood clot was slowly resolving, and Matt had been moved from ICU to a
regular room. If Declan had thought his house felt empty without Matt’s
presence, the knowledge that he was in the hospital made it that much
worse. In the solitary privacy of his own home, Declan had broken down
the night before, sobbing into his pillow, only falling asleep in the early
dawn hours.
There were a lot less wires and tubes connected to his lover’s body
in this room, and Declan wondered if he could possibly get away with
holding Matt in his arms. He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed.
Matt woke with a little start. ‚I thought you were the nurse coming
to bug the shit out me yet again.‛
‚I will admit the hospital is not really a place for rest.‛
Matt squinted at him. ‚You look like crap.‛
‚That’s my line.‛
‚Yeah, well, I have an excuse,‛ Matt replied. ‚You could’ve given
me a little warning about the internal affairs guys. Considering I don’t
remember jack-shit about the explosion and all, do you really think
Donovan just up and left me?‛
‚Considering he called you a stupid fag, yeah, I do.‛
‚God< people are such bastards sometimes.‛ Matt scrunched his
face up.
‚Are you feeling any better? Since they moved you out of the ICU,
I’m guessing they think you’re improving.‛
‚They shoved me in the floppy drive last night. Apparently the
results show the clot is getting smaller.‛
‚The floppy drive?‛ Declan asked.
‚The MRI. You know, it makes that grunk-grunk noise like a really
constipated floppy drive trying to format. My dad had this obnoxiously
loud one when I was a kid.‛
‚Floppy drives? Wow, that was a while back.‛ Declan’s hands crept
across the blanket to lie on Matt’s leg. ‚Can I hold you now that there’s a
whole lot less stuff attached?‛
‚Yeah, I think so,‛ Matt replied.
Declan scooted closer and carefully wrapped his arms around his
lover. He rubbed Matt’s back, soothing himself with the touch as much his
partner. He cupped Matt’s face with a hand and angled his head for a long
soft kiss. It felt so right.
After a couple of minutes, Matt’s head sagged to rest on Declan’s
shoulder. ‚My head hurts constantly, and the damn nurses keep waking
me up and poking and prodding me.‛
‚Once they let you out of here, I’ll haul you home and make sure
you get some TLC.‛
* * * * *
Maria dropped by the hospital that evening for a grand total of
three minutes. Matt assumed she wanted to make sure he wasn’t at
death’s door because then she’d have to find a way to explain it to their
son.
The hospital kept Matt another day before discharging him with a
long list of things to watch out for. The game plan was to stay at Declan’s
house for the next couple of days while he recovered and waited for
clearance to return to work. Jesus, that was disturbingly familiar from the
other end of the scenario.
* * * * *
‚I don’t have to wake you up every couple hours, do I?‛ Declan
asked as he tucked Matt into bed.
‚No, I’m past that stage. I guess if I sleep more than twelve hours,
though, it might be a good idea to check on me,‛ Matt replied. Stretched
out in his lover’s familiar bed, headache raging again, Matt closed his
eyes, hoping the meds would take the edge off the pain.
Good sleep only lasted a couple of hours though, then Matt was
awake, exhausted but restless. He crawled out of bed and shuffled out
into the den.
‚Hey, I thought you were planning on sleeping for most of the
day,‛ said Declan. He crossed the room and guided Matt to the sofa.
‚I was, but my battered brain has other ideas.‛ Matt sank down
onto the couch. Declan sat beside him and pulled Matt gently into his
arms.
‚Do I need to worry about this?‛
‚No, weirdly enough, poor and broken sleep is as likely to be a
symptom of a head injury as grogginess and trouble waking, which
basically bites.‛
‚Sorry.‛
Matt managed a weak smile. ‚You hear any more about the whole
thing with Donovan?‛
‚Yes, internal affairs gigged him for failure to follow procedure.
They gave him a ten-day suspension without pay. From my end of it, I
think they should have fired his ass.‛ Declan’s face was grim. ‚You know
it’s only going to up the friction between us and him.‛
‚You said us.‛
‚Yeah<‛
‚Do you want to discuss the part where you said you loved me? I
mean I know you were pretty wigged out—‛
Declan cut him off. ‚Don’t you dare try to give me an out! We need
to get you out of that dinky little apartment. This house has plenty of
rooms, and we could move all the boxes out of the end bedroom and let
Kenny paint those weird Lego guys on the wall or something.‛
Matt’s heart did a little flip-flop as he realized that Declan
understood how important his son was to him. ‚Is this your way of asking
me to move in with you?‛
‚Yes. I said I love you, and I meant it. I still mean it. I want you in
my bed and in my life.‛
‚What about work? I don’t know how the powers that be are going
to deal with you and me being partners in the romantic sense.‛ Matt
wondered if he was being too practical for his own good.
‚I thought about that. If I need to, I’ll transfer to another group.
Hell, I have friends in the San Diego PD who’d get me a spot. I’ll figure it
out. We’ll figure it out.‛
Matt grinned. ‚Yeah, I think we will.‛
- The End -
Author Bio
A.R. Moler is a chemistry professor at a community college, a
homeschooling mom, and an avid science fiction fan. She is a devotee of
first-hand research for her writing whenever possible, and to this end has
learned to fire a handgun, been rappelling, ridden with both EMS and the
police, flown a helicopter, bought a motorcycle, and learned to ride it. She
has traveled to nearly all the places where her stories are set and taken
hundreds of photos for documentation. She has been writing since her
high school years but has been published for only a few years.
Her entire backlist can be found on her website armoler.com. Her
blog is
www.playdohstoichiometry.blogspot.com
Play-Doh, LEGOs and Stoichiometry. When asked why such a name for
her blog, she commented that it reflects three of the many phases of her
life. Her daughter is eight years old and an avid Play-Doh artist, her son is
twelve and owns enough LEGOs is fill a 55-gallon drum, and the
stoichiometry equals one of the most challenging topics to many
chemistry students.