By the Numbers Read online

Page 8


  "Sure." Even if he didn't know exactly what a violet looked like, 'only houseplant' and 'kitchen window' were specific enough that he could find it. He sat on the couch and Q flopped over his knee, as usual. "Anything you want to watch is good by me." Mostly Deuce wanted to sit and get used to sharing space with this man and see how they fit together.

  He was kind of expecting Trey to sit with the usual distance between them, but Trey waited for Deuce to sit down first and then took the spot right next to him. This was new.

  "Nothing that the digital recorder won't catch. I usually spend the night after Lacey leaves with a beer and a movie. One with swearing and nudity." Trey smiled slightly. "Being Dad for four days cuts down on my 'eat shitty food and use profanity' time."

  Deuce gave Trey a long look and considered his options. "You're looking for some adult time, is what you're saying? And please, don't hold back on the cursing."

  "I guess that's what I'm saying, yeah." Trey nodded once and didn't look away. "A reminder that I'm more than just a dad to my kid. I love her, and I wish I had her more, but when she's not here the switch back to 'fireman' can be a little tough. And strange." Trey rolled his eyes. "Maybe being just a guy between 'dad' and 'firefighter' is the buffer I need. It's the one I want, anyway."

  So did Deuce, who noted the lack of cussing, nodded to himself, and then kissed Trey. He could be adult, no doubt about that, and Trey seemed to be open to the offer. Deuce wasn't coy about it, either; he poured as much into that kiss as he could, making sure Trey got the point. Adult was right there, on tap. As much or as little as he wanted.

  Trey kissed him back, and there seemed to be no hesitation in it at all. Last time there had been a slight holding back, but there was no hint of that now. Trey even moved closer and nestled into Deuce's side, looking for the perfect fit.

  Taking that as a green light for now, Deuce shifted too, until they were pressed close, comfortable against the back angle of the couch. He made sure he had one hand on Trey at all times, whether it was on his arm or leg or buried in Trey's hair, satisfying his craving for touch and for texture. Deuce liked to explore, and he let himself feel and investigate contours and planes for as long as Trey allowed it.

  Trey was pliant and warm against him. He smelled of the fabric softener Deuce had discovered in the laundry room, and he tasted faintly of the one beer Trey had had before dinner. It was all intoxicating, especially when Trey opened his mouth and slid his tongue in to touch Deuce's.

  They kissed that way for a long time, long enough for it to grow dark in the living room as the sun sank out of sight. Just when it seemed that things weren't going to progress much further, Trey pushed Deuce back against the couch and slid into his lap.

  "Oh, okay." Deuce stopped kissing long enough to smile at him and then shifted his hips to get Trey where it felt best. "Yeah?" Trey was warm and lean, and Deuce wanted to keep going, keep kissing and touching until it got too hot to breathe. After that, he'd see just how adult they were going to get on the very comfortable couch.

  "Yeah." Trey affirmed it with a nod and then bent his head again, legs straddling Deuce's hips and his groin nestled firmly against Deuce's crotch. There was no mistaking the bulge there. It was the first real, overt sign that Trey had given, and he was certainly acting like he wanted Deuce to take advantage of the situation.

  "Nice." Deuce got his hands tight on Trey's hips and rocked up a little. He was just as hard, and it felt amazing to grind a bit, enough for a tease. Harder and longer and rougher could wait, even just a few minutes. Assuming, of course, that he could stop himself once he started.

  Trey made a soft sound into Deuce's mouth and matched the gentle rocking with rhythm of his own. His fingers tightened on Deuce's shoulders as he spread his legs a little wider to put himself in just the right spot. "Like this?" he whispered, as if Deuce was going to say no.

  Deuce nodded, his breath coming faster and his body getting tight. "Yeah. Like this." He closed his eyes and rocked up harder, his thighs twitching as his balls throbbed. "Just like this."

  There was no sound in the room except for their panted breaths. Trey had stopped kissing him and had his face buried in Deuce's neck, his hands clenching and unclenching as they rocked together.

  "Oh, God." Deuce moved is hands back to cup Trey's ass and pulled him down. He could feel his body getting warm, his feet wanting to move on the floor to get even more leverage. "We keep going, we'll have to go more laundry. Just so you know." He drove up anyway and gasped.

  Before Deuce could move or readjust himself, Trey had whipped his own shirt off and was working the button fly on Deuce's jeans. "This will be less messy." He managed to get one hand inside and closed warm fingers around Deuce's cock, withdrawing it from his boxers.

  "Jesus." Deuce looked down and watched for a couple of strokes and then his head fell back. "You do adult really, really well." He knew he should be moving his hands, getting into Trey's jeans to reciprocate, but his brain was already going offline. Trey would get his, but maybe it would take a little while. Coordination would have to come back first.

  "I watched you all week," Trey murmured. He stroked slow and even, rubbing his thumb over the wet head. "You were so good with Lacey. Kind of a turn on." Another hard stroke, this time with a squeeze at the top. "I've wanted to do this to you for days."

  Deuce groaned and thrust into Trey's hand. "You hid it well. Good job." He thrust again, now almost panting. "Very, very good job." Just a little more and he'd lose all semblance of control. He could feel tension coiled low in his belly, and his feet finally found purchase on the floor as he thrust again.

  Trey tightened his fist again and slid down lower in Deuce's lap. With one quick bob of his head, he placed his mouth over the tip of Deuce's cock and sucked hard.

  "Oh, shit." Deuce arched and came, his orgasm slamming into him before he expected it. His hands grabbed at Trey's shoulders and then petted his hair, but all of Deuce's attention was on the way his body was zinging with release, everything pulsing and shaking.

  The soft cotton of Trey's T-shirt caught the warm ribbons of come that Deuce spilled. Trey drew the rest out of him and petted and cleaned him up, seemingly oblivious to the erection that still tented the front of his jeans. The only sign that he might be needy was the slight shake in his hands.

  Deuce got his eyes to focus and reached for Trey. He pulled Trey close and kissed him, still not breathing evenly. "That was unexpected. I love unexpected." He thrust his tongue into Trey's mouth and palmed Trey's cock over the fabric of his jeans.

  "Sometimes I -- oooh." Whatever Trey was about to say dissolved into a sound of pleasure instead. Trey leaned into the kiss and rolled his hips into Deuce's hand. "Sometimes I've been known to surprise people," he whispered. He dropped his hand to cover Deuce's.

  "You can surprise me any time you want." Deuce rubbed and groped for a moment, getting the feel of the hard length under his hand. "I really don't mind surprises." He unfastened Trey's jeans and urged him to slide over and lay back on the couch.

  There was no hesitation at all. Trey lay back dutifully and closed his eyes. "I jerked off thinking about you," he admitted. "Once at home and once at work." He shoved at his jeans until Deuce could clearly see the line of his prick through his boxer briefs. There was nothing small about him.

  "That's amazingly hot." Deuce slid his palms up Trey's thighs and over the fabric, hooking his fingers over the waistband. "I did too, but not at work. I might do that tomorrow." He tugged the boxer briefs down and gathered Trey's erection in one hand.

  A little whimper escaped and Trey thrust up immediately into Deuce's fingers. "Can you move faster?" he asked. "Because I've kind of been waiting for this."

  Deuce laughed softly and moved faster. "Sorry." He stroked firmly, enjoying the look on Trey's face and the flush of his skin. "Next time we'll take it easy, go slower." This time was already past the point where they could really get into it -- or maybe they w
ere both so into it that they just couldn't stop. Either way, it was too powerful to rein in right then.

  There was no answer to the "next time" statement, but that could have been because Trey was apparently busy concentrating on how fast or slow Deuce was going. "Yes," he breathed, eyes closed and his lashes so long that they nearly brushed the tops of his cheeks. "Almost."

  Looking down at his hand and Trey's cock, Deuce added a bit of pressure on the upstroke and brushed his thumb over the moisture gathered at the tip. "So sexy," he murmured. "So hard and sexy."

  There was a sharp intake of breath and then Trey was spilling over Deuce's hand. The tremors from Trey's body could be felt even through the couch cushions. Deuce milked and squeezed until Trey was done and his breathing had evened out. He opened his eyes after several moments and blinked at the ceiling. "That kind of adult time beats a beer and a movie. Even if the movie is porn."

  Deuce grinned. "I'm better than porn. Nice." He kissed Trey and reached for the poor abused T-shirt. "I gotta say, I do like your adult time."

  "It seems to be more fun with another adult," Trey laughed. He sat up and looked around a little with a dazed expression. "So... what were we doing? TV or something?"

  "TV or something, yes." Deuce laughed and sat up, getting his pants back on as best he could. "I think I'll have a beer, though. Want another while I'm up?"

  Trey appeared to consider it, then shook his head. "One was enough. I'm going to wash up, though." He got up and took his T-shirt with him, making a slight face.

  Deuce watched him go and went to the kitchen, realizing halfway there that he was wearing his goofy "just got laid" grin. He hoped he could lose it before Trey got back -- it was a lame look.

  Then he shrugged, got his beer, and went to find something good on TV. Adult time was a very good thing, and it certainly boded well for their living arrangements. Deuce liked Trey, and it felt good to know that was returned.

  "It's a good thing," he told Q as he sat back down. She didn't look impressed. She merely sighed and went back to sleep. Deuce figured he'd take that as a sign of enthusiastic agreement. "Yep. A real good thing."

  Eight

  Overtime was great money, but when it was his third shift in a row, Trey often found himself cranky and wondering why he needed the money so badly in the first place.

  He lay on his bunk after lunch and wondered if he'd have time for a fast cat nap. The first night of his shift had been quiet, but last night was the opposite. Up twice in the middle of the night for one false alarm -- those security systems at the office buildings were too sensitive -- and one canceled call. Then he couldn't get back to sleep, of course, so he jerked off thinking about Deuce.

  That was becoming quite the common occurrence lately. Trey didn't know how to feel about that. The guy was funny, cute, and really charming. He was a quiet roommate and seemed to like Lacey.

  Lacey liked Deuce, too, which was definitely a plus. The only trouble was that she talked about him frequently when she was with her mother, and Trey had heard Holly's displeasure about that fact.

  "So you have a boyfriend," she'd said when Trey had dropped Lacey off three days ago.

  "No." He'd found it was smarter not to use extra words that she could twist around. Besides, it was true. Neither he or Deuce had said anything about being exclusive.

  "Lacey said there's a man living with you. Who is it?" She folded her arms and looked up at him. Trey remembered once upon a time that it had been her petite size that had attracted him to her. "Pocket rocket", the guys had called her.

  Trey rubbed a hand over his face and silently counted to five. "His name is Nathaniel, and he's not my boyfriend; he's my roommate." All true.

  Holly squared her jaw. "How do I know that Lacey is safe there?"

  It was a valid question, he supposed, but it touched a nerve. "Jesus Christ, Holly. You think I'd endanger her? Say whatever the fuck you want about me, but I'm not a shitty father, and you know it."

  She had the grace to redden slightly. "Still, Trey. It's a strange guy in the same house as my daughter. One I've never met, and one you didn't tell me about. I had to hear about him from my child. She spent four days there with him and you never said anything. Why is he a secret?"

  They'd gone on and on like that for almost twenty minutes. Trey ended up being late for work that morning. His captain had raised a brow when Trey had stalked in, but wisely refrained from asking any questions.

  It had soured his mood for the entire shift, and knowing he was working two more days after that didn't help improve things. His one bright spot was when Deuce had texted him before bed each night, just a short good night note.

  Thinking of Deuce now made Trey reach over for his phone. He scrolled to the last message Deuce had sent him and hit 'reply', then typed, "Bored. Tired. How's my dog?"

  A few moments later he got one back that read, "Napping atm. Spent an hour in the yard playing. We won't discuss the mess on the kitchen floor. Bring home spray cleaner."

  Trey wrinkled his nose and grinned. He could just imagine. He texted back, "Some in garage on shelf. Gloves too." He paused momentarily, then added, "Bring them by later to visit."

  Almost immediately he got a reply. "3? Or just the pup?"

  Shoot, what the hell. His crew would love it. "All 3. They can stay in the engine bay while we eat."

  "What time? :D"

  He checked his watch, then answered, "We eat at 6. Come by at 5:30."

  "See you then. If you try to cancel I'm ignoring you and coming anyway." Almost immediately that was followed by another text. "Missed you."

  Trey read both texts twice before he sent one final message. "If we're not here, wait for me. Missed you too."

  And he had, really. Three days in a row was the longest he'd gone without seeing Deuce and getting a good night kiss, if not more, for a few weeks. Deuce was good at giving more.

  Feeling better already despite the lack of sleep, Trey got up and went to the kitchen to announce guests for dinner. "Hey, my roommate's gonna come by for chow." He spoke to the crew of the other engine. There were three separate crews on shift at the same time: one for each of the two fire engines and then the one for the fire truck. Tonight was the truck's turn to cook.

  "He better like ribs," Jack Sheridan announced. "They're on sale." The paramedic grabbed his wallet and shouted for the rest of his crew to hurry up, he was leaving for the store.

  Trey knew Deuce liked ribs because they'd barbecued some last week together, and then devoured two whole racks. Both of them had had indigestion that night, but neither of them regretted it. "Get corn!" he yelled after them, and then went to find his captain.

  Chance was in his office, going over time sheets. Trey knocked once on the open door. "Company for chow. My roommate. Uh... and dogs."

  "Sure." Chance nodded and highlighted more paperwork. "New roommate?"

  "Yeah. Temporary. He's a nice guy."

  "Fine by me. Tell Jack, though. The truck's cooking dinner."

  "Yessir, I did. Thanks." Trey nodded at him and turned to go watch some television in the front room, but the familiar sound of two chimes interrupted that plan.

  "Engine Eleven, go into service. Myocardial infarction at 5097 Hummingbird Trail. Engine Eleven, please report." The soft, automated female voice was unchanging, no matter what the call was. Her nickname throughout the department was "Bitchin' Betty", and Trey often wondered if she'd herald the end of the world the same way, in a pleasant, unchanging tone.

  Chance sighed and abandoned the printouts at his desk. He rose and joined Trey in their walk to the garage. "Third heart attack today. They're dropping like flies over there in Golden Years." The assisted living retirement community was a frequent call for Station Eleven.

  "Busy day means busy night." One night at a time, he could handle. But his third working day in a row made Trey dread the coming evening. All he really wanted right now was to be at home with a beer in o
ne hand and the remote in the other, preferably with Deuce next to him on the couch.

  "Probably." Chance sounded indifferent about it, as he did about most things. It was what made him a good captain, Trey supposed. He was calm and never raised his voice, but people liked him and responded to his orders. The fact that Chance was gay always amazed Trey, too. The man kept quiet about it, though he and his longtime partner were definitely not in the closet. Tucker was a fireman over at Station Nineteen, and Trey figured most people didn't know they were together. The fire department as a whole wasn't a place where you announced your orientation, anyway.

  They ran their call and got back to the firehouse in time for Trey to take a fast shower and put on a clean department T. All of them went through at least three a day, so it was a good thing there was a washer and dryer in the garage.

  Just as Trey was finger-combing wet hair, Aaron Burnett stuck his head into Trey's dorm. "Your buddy's here," he said, thumbing over his shoulder. "Are those your dogs?"

  Trey shoved his feet back into his work boots and rose from the bed. "One of them," he replied. "Well... okay, I guess all of them are, for now." He grinned at Aaron and went to find Deuce. The day had just improved by a mile.

  "Q! Get out of that!" Deuce was standing in the open bay door, shaking his head as Q sniffed her way around the edge of the building. The puppies were standing stock still, looking around with huge eyes. That would likely change in an instant, and they'd probably go in exact opposite directions. "Oh, hey. Hi there!" Deuce smiled at him and pointed at Q. "How much trouble can she get into?"

  Q was nosing her way into the planter and sniffing at the bark pieces that were there in lieu of dirt. "None," he laughed. "She's fine." He crouched down on one knee and whistled softly. "Six!"