“Ow!” The cat, who up until that point had been nothing but nice to Zack, warming his bed and coming in for pets, swatted a huge scratch down Zack’s arm right before darting under the back deck.
“All right, you overgrown ball of fur, now we get real.” Zack crouched next to the deck. It was dank and dark under there, but he’d crawled into way worse. He got down on his belly and slithered under the wooden deck, getting his front all muddy but not giving a shit. Getting this cat back inside before Pike got home was his goddamn mission right then and he was not going to fail. He reached the cat, who had slithered all the way up against the foundation, and snatched him up, not giving a shit about the hissing and scratching. He pulled him back out, keeping him clutched to his chest as he stood up even as the cat dug his claws in.
“Fuck. I’m setting up a vet appointment for you. Declaw you, you overgrown raccoon. See how you like that—”
“Hey. Hey. What’s going on?” Fuck. Pike was right behind him, bemused expression on his face.
“Cat got out,” Zack admitted. “But I got him back.”
“Thanks.” Pike gently extracted Gizmo from Zack’s arms. “But you’re a bloody mess. Damn cat.” He glared down at Gizmo, who yawned. “You’re a troublemaker.”
“Hell yeah, he is.” Zack followed Pike up the deck and into the house, stopping to shake the worst of the dirt off.
“And now you’re injured—”
“It’s nothing.”
“You’re bleeding from your arm, your neck, your foot, and judging by the stain on your shirt, I’d bet chest too. Come on, let’s clean you up.” Pike tugged Zack toward the bathroom.
“What? No. I can do it,” Zack protested even as he followed along.
“My cat injured you. Least I can do is clean you up. Sit.” Pike gestured at the closed toilet, using a voice that not even Zack’s lieutenant would argue with. Pike fetched the first aid kit Zack had stashed in one of the drawers by the sink. “I already had to bust this out after a bad run-in with a carpet tack.” He showed off a bandage on his forearm.
Zack had the strangest urge to reach out and touch the arm, make sure Pike really was okay. He distracted himself by taking in Pike’s rather unusual appearance. Unlike Pike’s usual wardrobe of T-shirts and tight jeans with a wide punk leather belt, Pike had on a sedate light blue button-down shirt, gray-and-blue-striped tie and gray pants. His normally spiky hair had been subdued with a harsh side part and a lot of gel.
“What’s with the outfit?”
Pike made a pained face. “First faculty meeting. I’m trying to fit in. Speaking of clothes, take your shirt off. Let’s see how bad the damage is.” He glared heavily at Zack until he pulled the shirt off. That one was surely toast as it had blood from his neck and chest all over it.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Zack gave a little laugh.
“Fuck.” Pike let out a low whistle. “Let’s start at your foot and work our way north.”
Shit. That shouldn’t sound so dirty, but dripping from Pike’s full lips, the words made Zack shiver. And Pike kneeling in front of him, shoving a towel under his foot before putting it in his lap, God, that just made Zack all kinds of crazy. Being...serviced like this, even if the alcohol pad Pike swiped over his skin hurt, made Zack’s pulse flutter.
Hell, after a while Zack started anticipating the sting of the alcohol. First his foot, then his hand and arms, all with Pike’s gentle yet efficient touch. Touch. Sting. Slippery touch with antibiotic cream. Touch. Sting. Fuck. This must be why some of his friends were so gung-ho for tattoos—having someone this close to you, working on you, was a bit of a turn-on, the pain doing strange things and morphing into little licks of sensation.
He let out a low moan as Pike worked a particularly deep scratch on his forearms.
“Sorry,” Pike said in a low voice. “It’ll be done soon.”
Zack didn’t have the words to tell Pike that he was okay if this never ended, so he simply nodded.
“Gizmo’s had all his shots,” Pike assured him.
Like I care. Just keep touching me. Zack nodded, fighting to keep his eyes from drifting shut. And when Pike touched his chest, Zack couldn’t keep in the hiss of pleasure-pain. He really should have insisted on doing this himself, not let Pike turn this into some kind of erotic dance.
No, that’s all you. Pike’s just doing his civic duty. And indeed, Pike did seem very focused on the task at hand, cleaning the scratches and punctures on Zack’s chest, then frowning. “Do you want a Band-Aid here or no? It’ll stick to your chest hair.”
Zack peered down. He didn’t have a thick pelt of hair like some of the guys, but he did have a fair smattering of blond fuzz, getting thicker and darker around his belly button heading south. And yeah, a bandage was going to hurt coming off. “I’m good.”
“That you are.” Pike shook his head, the first hint of a leer on his face. “You know I could work out five hours a day and not get that kind of chest definition.”
Resisting the urge to preen, Zack snorted. “I mainly work out on base with my team, but if you want me to show you some stuff, just ask.”
“Do I get a hands-on demo?” Pike’s eyes sparkled and Zack was acutely aware of how close their bodies were in this small space. He opened his mouth to answer but Pike held up a hand. “Wait. I said I wouldn’t flirt. Ogling you working out would probably violate that.”
Yeah, but I want it. Zack sighed because the idea of Pike’s appreciative eyes on him while he churned out some push-ups made his skin all warm and tight, and that wasn’t good.
“I’m trying.” Pike misinterpreted Zack’s sigh. “You make it hard... Oh never mind.” He gave a nervous laugh.
“It’s okay.” Zack kind of liked being the one in the position to reassure Pike.
“Okay. Just the scrape on your neck and cheek to go. Bet you’re glad you’ve got a day for this to heal before heading out again.
You have no idea.
“Rough day? Tell me?” Pike asked. Fuck. Zack hadn’t meant to say that last bit aloud.
“It’s fine,” Zack said even though a part of him wanted to open up to someone about how hard this was proving to be, what with Cobb and all. But he wouldn’t. He’d dreamed of this. Trained for this. Suffered for this. No way in hell was he complaining now.
Pike shrugged. “Tilt your head.” His fingers along Zack’s neck were like twin rakes of pleasure. Then came the bite of the alcohol and it was all Zack could do to stifle another moan. Pike’s eyebrows danced upward. “Pain slut? I mean, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, with what you guys put your bodies through—”
“I’m not.” Zack silenced him. God, one more thing to deny? Really? Only this one he was pretty sure wasn’t true. He wouldn’t be reacting like this to any random person touching him and doctoring him up. He’d been banged up plenty and never once sprouted wood during the cleanup before Pike.
Pike shook his head like he didn’t believe him. He leaned in, examining the scrape on Zack’s face, which really was nothing. Zack had gotten more torn up doing the grinder obstacle course before. Of course, he’d never had anyone taking care of him before. Not like this. It felt too good, like he should pull away—
He jerked away at the precise instant that Pike leaned closer, making Pike fall against him. Holy crap. He had a lap full of Pike, pressed right up against his chest and neck as Pike tried to steady himself with a hand on Zack’s shoulder. It felt like the first few seconds of a HALO jump, all exhilaration and rush of air screaming in his ears as he waited for what came next.
And what came next was going to be something. It was there in the hitch of Pike’s breathing, in the way Pike subtly leaned closer, in the way Zack didn’t recoil, instead his hand going to Pike’s back, as if he could hold him there. It was in the way Pike’s eyes dipped to Zack’s mouth,
inches away from his own. Inches, shrinking to centimeters, then millimeters...
Pause.
Everything hanging on the moment.
Something was going to happen. Right...now. Their lips collided, like they were still slipping, but Zack knew better. This was deliberate. This was kissing, something that Zack would have sworn up until two seconds ago that he did not like. He’d been kissed before. A few high school and college girls, and he’d done it enough to know that he didn’t really like it, didn’t feel what other guys felt when lips and tongues tangled. It’d felt wet. And sloppy. And much, much too close.
But this? This was altogether different. This was kissing, a beast Zack had never encountered, not like this. There was no mistaking that he was kissing a guy—Pike smelled like a guy, tasted like a guy, gripped him with strong hands like a guy. Pike smelled like the citrus shampoo that had shown up in the shower a few days ago, and he tasted sweet, like jelly beans or hard candies with just a hint of the ever-present spice Pike added to everything. And something tangier too, something uniquely Pike that meant Zack couldn’t get enough, didn’t want to ever break away.
Pike pulled away first, breathing hard. God, even his sounds were so male—harsh intakes of air, a deep groan. Zack needed more, and he leaned in to get it, but Pike held up a hand.
“Didn’t satisfy your curiosity?” Pike tilted his head, considering Zack with those all-knowing green eyes.
“No,” Zack said, unable to be anything other than honest with the rush of wanting in his head.
“And that’s all this is? Just a bit curious?”
Fuck. Pike was handing him the perfect life preserver, the one that could keep him from slipping under the churning water that was his life. And he was powerless to do anything other than nod.
“Wrong answer.” Pike stood up and was out of the bathroom before Zack could think to call him back. Somewhere distant in the house a door slammed. Fuck.
“Meow.” Gizmo appeared at the bathroom door.
“You are so much trouble.” Zack groaned, like it was the cat’s fault that he’d just made an idiot of himself to Pike.
Chapter Eight
“Fuck straight guys.” Pike punched his pillow. Or rather don’t fuck them. Hadn’t he been down this road before? He knew better than to kiss Zack, but he’d been powerless in the face of all those bare muscles and those hungry eyes. God, the soft sigh Zack had made when Pike landed on him, all low and needy, and then he’d looked at Pike’s mouth like it held the solution to a pop quiz on standard deviations. So what had Pike done? He’d deviated from all his resolutions and kissed the guy.
Shit. He flipped over the bed, rumpling his Tardis comforter. He really was going to make a crappy professor. He couldn’t even enforce his own damn rules for himself. The whole professor thing had played a part in why he caved though. It had been a crappy day, one where he discovered that even in a tie, people kept mistaking him for a student, and that being an official professor meant far more paperwork and hoops than he’d dreamed possible. He kept waiting for someone to pop out with a hidden camera and tell him this was all a joke, that no way could he be expected to be a professor now and follow all the university rules and be in charge of shit.
When he’d come home, he’d been strangely happy to see Zack’s truck in the driveway next to the Dumpster. They hadn’t seen each other much at all while Zack had been on duty, but he’d come to look forward to the sporadic texts about reminders for the house stuff. And it was kind of nice to have someone to come home to. He’d intentionally never lived alone because he liked having someone to talk to instead of being trapped in his own head all the time. So he’d planned to vent as soon as he walked in, but then he’d found Zack under the house in pursuit of his cat. A switch had flipped in Pike’s brain—Zack wasn’t simply a convenient set of ears for Pike’s ramblings, but a real roommate, one who gave a shit whether Pike’s cats were okay. Maybe they were on their way to friendship after all.
And friends took care of each other when they were hurt. It was only natural that his chest had felt too small at the sight of Zack’s wounds and that he’d wanted to help. And only natural that he’d wanted to touch that chiseled, surprisingly furry chest and kiss...
“Fuck.” He punched the pillow again. He was so stupid. He lay there, looking up at the ceiling for so long he almost started to drift off, startled awake by the sound of the doorbell.
“Hey, Pike?” Zack’s voice called from somewhere out in the hall. “I...uh...there was no food, so I ordered a pizza. Got you sausage and pineapple on half and asked for those little pepper things you like on the side.”
Oh hell. Now Pike had to go be nice with Mr. “I’m just waiting for the right girl” if he wanted food. And clearly Zack intended the pizza as a peace offering of sorts, even remembering what Pike had ordered the last time there had been pizza at Ryan and Josiah’s house.
“Coming,” he called back because really, what choice did he have?
They lacked a dining table so Zack had set the pizza on the rug in front of the TV along with some of the plates Pike had brought with him from LA.
“You like the rug?” Pike asked, because talking about anything other than the kiss was a great idea.
“It’s more color than I’m used to, but yeah, it works.” Zack offered him a tentative smile as he dished up two slices for each of them. However, instead of taking a seat next to Pike on the couch, Zack stayed sitting on the rug. He’d ordered Canadian bacon on his half, and he picked a piece off the slice and ate it.
“There’s a great thrift store near the campus. I got the rug and slipcover there dirt cheap. If we’ve got time tomorrow, we could go grab a table and two chairs maybe.” Pike folded one of his slices in half and took a bite.
“Maybe.” Zack shifted around on the rug. Fuck. Time to address the real big rainbow-colored elephant in the room.
“Look. Making this place livable isn’t going to turn you gay. I promise.” Pike nudged him with his foot. “And neither will kissing me.” The pizza turned to ash in his stomach as he said the words he knew that poor, confused straight boy needed to hear. “I promise. It was my fault and it’ll stay our secret.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Zack said firmly, but his neck turned pink, and he started fiddling with the remote for the TV. “But you...don’t want...ah...not again?”
“Are you asking if I want a repeat?” Pike gaped at him. Lord save me from confused-yet-horny straight boys. Seriously. What did I do in a past life to deserve this?
“Not exactly.” The pink stain on Zack’s cheeks belied his words.
“Zack,” Pike groaned. “Come on. Level with me, man. Are you really straight? I know I’ve got a rep as a loose cannon, but I swear to God, this goes no further than us. If you’re gay or bi or pan or whatever but closeted, I’ll keep your secret.”
Zack was quiet a long time, eyes deathly still, mouth not moving, even to chew. It was as if his whole body had shut down to think. Come on, trust me. Pike tried a trick of his mother’s and tried to surround himself with a trustworthy aura.
But it didn’t work, because eventually Zack shook his head.
“Fuck.” Pike thumped his head against the couch. “Then no, we can’t kiss again. No repeats. No ‘experiments.’ You get me?”
“I get you.” Zack glowered at him. “I don’t get why you’re so hung up on labels. I mean you flirt with everyone. And you joke about threesomes. I would think you’d be happy—”
Pike held up a hand. “How about you stop before you call me a slut, okay? And yeah, I flirt. That’s my right. And joking about threesomes that aren’t happening? Dude, have you looked at Ryan lately? Who the hell wouldn’t want a threesome with him and Josiah? And it’s my right not to screw around with straight guys. Ever since...” He clamped his mouth down around the word vomit threat
ening to spew forth. “Never mind. I’ve got rules, that’s all I’m saying.”
“What happened?” Zack’s voice was softer now, and he’d scooted closer to the couch during Pike’s tirade. If he’d pushed back with more slut shaming, Pike wouldn’t think twice about not answering, but something in Zack’s expression made him want to share this story. And who knew? Maybe it would help the guy.
“I had this best friend in middle school and high school. Roger. I was one of those kids, I was always out. People didn’t have to wonder with me—I was always on the level about liking guys. But Roger didn’t care, or so he said. And we were buds all through school. And he said he was into girls, but I couldn’t help myself and...” Pike sighed and trailed off.
“You fell in love.” Zack said it as a statement, not a question.
“Yeah. I fell hard, and by the middle of high school, I thought maybe he was just scared to come out. After a while, I could swear it was mutual. I built this whole fantasy around him realizing that he felt the same way for me.”
“Did you try...anything with him?” Zack voice was almost inaudible.
This part was hard to admit, but Pike nodded. “We jerked off together for years. Eventually, he let me kiss him while we did that, and that’s when I thought that maybe my feelings were mutual. We were making out and jerking off, and eventually oral, and there had to be something behind it, you know?”
Zack nodded even though Pike was pretty sure that he didn’t see, couldn’t possibly see.
“But there wasn’t.” Bitterness crept into his voice. He didn’t want to share this next bit, but maybe he needed to, to remind himself why he couldn’t ever go down this road again. “I got into my head by senior year that maybe he just needed a nudge. A little push.”
“So what’d you do?” Zack leaned back against the base of the couch, looking up at Pike with wary eyes.
Be afraid, man. Be very afraid. Pike let out a harsh noise. “I asked him to prom. In public. In front of our friends. And he laughed and said he was straight like everything between us was a big joke. And that was the end of everything between us. He never let himself be alone with me again.”
Off Base Page 7