by Alexa Snow
He groaned and hitched himself up onto his elbows just as Carter appeared as if from nowhere and dropped down next to him.
"Oh, fuck," Nate managed to say, as he discovered that talking made his throat hurt. "Was that -- ?"
Carter was babbling something and his hands were all over, patting Nate down like he was checking for broken bones. At least, Nate hoped that was what he was doing, because if he was trying to start something then the guy was even harder to figure than Nate'd thought.
"Are you hurt?" Carter asked.
Nate rolled sideways onto his hip and groaned again. "I don't think so," he croaked, even though everything hurt. "Nothing broken, anyway. I'm good."
Carter's hands were still on him. "Holy shit," Carter said again, like he wasn't even aware that he was saying it. "That was -- I can't believe you're okay." His fingers poked against Nate's skin through what must have been a rip in his shirt, and he bent closer to look. "You're bleeding."
"It's okay." Nate pushed himself to a sitting position, partially leaning against Carter, and craned his neck to see through the tear in the fabric to the tear in his skin. "It's nothing."
"It's not nothing, you were -- " Carter made an obvious effort to cut himself off, took a deep breath. "Shit. Holy shit, Nate, you could have been killed."
Nate sat up straighter, pressing a hand over the bleeding cut on his arm and wincing. "Yeah. But I wasn't. And we've gotta try to get this fire under control, or the whole damned forest is gonna burn."
He struggled to his feet, the muscles of his upper back screaming in protest, and then Carter's arm was under his elbow. He appreciated the gesture but shook it off. The guys were all around, some of them with fire extinguishers. Damn, they should have had more water up here, instead of just a couple of jugs for drinking. Of course, with how often they got rain and how careful they were, they usually didn't worry about it too much.
Don was on his knees a dozen yards away, huddled over someone who was lying on the ground. The girl. He headed for them, Carter close on his heels, and as he rounded Don and could actually see her clearly he had to blink in mingled surprise and horror. Some piece of the Cat -- he didn't know which piece, didn't think he wanted to know -- had speared her as neatly as an arrow, through the space just between her breasts. In the light from the fire around them her blood looked black, spread out across her thin cotton shirt. It had run in a thin rivulet down into the curve of her throat.
"Christ on a crutch," Nate breathed, and he heard Carter's own sharp intake of breath beside him.
"Oh, God," Carter said, and went down onto his knees opposite Don. His hands went to her face, and then he put two fingers against her neck. "She doesn't have a pulse," he said blankly.
Nate crouched down and looked at Carter from across what was, now, just a body. "We supposed to do CPR?"
Carter shook himself visibly, the stunned look leaving his face and something that seemed more like resignation taking its place. "I don't see how," he said. "The -- that's where you're supposed to do the compressions." He indicated the chunk of metal protruding from her skin.
"Could we take it out?" asked Don.
"I don't -- yeah, maybe. At this point I don't see how it could hurt." Carter reached out and touched the jutting metal, tentatively, but Nate's grabbed onto Carter's wrist and stopped him.
"No," Nate said. "Don't. There's no way you'd get it out of her without ripping her to shreds."
He saw Carter swallow heavily, then nod. "Right. I think... she's gone, then." He checked for a pulse again, leaned low over her face to listen for breath, then straightened up. "It must have -- instantly."
"Where's the boy?" Don asked. "He was right behind me, when..."
Nate stood up and scanned the area. The kid was about fifteen feet away, lying tangled up like he'd been tossed -- which he had, pretty much. Nate went over and bent down, looking at him. He was breathing fine and didn't have any obviously serious injuries, although the way his arm was twisted led Nate to wonder if his wrist or forearm was broken. "He's gonna need an ambulance," Nate called back to Don and Carter. "He's out cold. Breathing, though."
He didn't want to move the kid, so Nate left him where he was and went back to where Carter was turning Don's face into the light so he could inspect the big gash across his cheek.
"There's a splinter of wood in it, I think," Carter was saying. "Maybe when you fell."
Don stepped back. "It's okay."
Carter turned to Nate. "Is there a blanket somewhere? For Robin?"
Robin? Oh, the kid. Nate jerked his hand toward the crummy. "Should be one in there. First aid kit, too. Don't try to move him -- think he might have a broken arm."
Carter headed for the bus, and Nate turned his own attention to the flames. The fire was far enough from the skidder that he decided not to worry about it right away -- he didn't care for the idea of climbing up onto it to move it, considering, and he sure wasn't going to ask anyone else to -- and it was just the logs that were already on the landing and the brush around it that were burning.
"Go get some gauze or something from the first aid kit for that," he said roughly to Don, whose face was still bleeding.
Don nodded and went.
Nate went back to his SUV and got the small fire extinguisher that he had tucked under the back seat. He went to work foaming the brush between the fire and the skidder, just in case. They couldn't afford to lose another piece of equipment. Fuck, but the insurance over this was going to be a bitch. Not to mention the investigation. Stupid fucking kids. Part of him couldn't help but think they'd gotten what they deserved, although at least these two had stayed behind to try to help put the fire out.
The crew managed to keep the fire under control until the fire trucks arrived about fifteen minutes later. Nate counted himself damned lucky that it hadn't taken longer -- sometimes out here the volunteer firefighters couldn't get themselves together as quickly as people might have liked. The ambulance got there just after, and took over moving the girl's dead body and the other kid's unconscious one out of there. He was glad to have one less thing to think about.
Carter seemed kind of lost, wandering around stepping on piles of smoldering ash with his boots like he was trying to kill a fire that was already dead. The ambulance left first, and then later the fire trucks, and finally the police car, with the understanding that Nate would go into their office the next morning to make his report. The men went back down in the crummy and left him and Carter there by themselves.
Nate went and sat in the SUV first, leaving the door open and his feet sticking out on the running board, just waiting. He wasn't sure what to do. The temptation to just leave Carter there to walk down in the dark, which normally would have been strong, was almost -- almost -- not there at all. So he waited.
After a while Carter came over. "Is there a first aid kit here?" he asked.
Nate moved as if to get out, and Carter stopped him with a hand on his chest.
"No," he said. "I'll get it. Just tell me where."
"Under the back seat."
They didn't speak as Carter unbuttoned and removed Nate's flannel shirt, looked thoughtfully at the T-shirt underneath, and then encouraged Nate with his hands to remove it as well. Sitting there in his jeans, Nate could feel himself getting hard as Carter's fingers gently cleaned the gash on his arm and bandaged it up.
Carter packed the supplies carefully back into the little kit, making sure that each piece went into its proper place. Carter tucked it under the seat where it had come from and shut the back door, then came around the open driver's door and grabbed onto Nate and kissed him, hard and desperate.
Nate kissed back, for a long minute, and then shoved Carter away. There was something in this he didn't want -- sure, it could be about need, that was okay. But he wasn't willing to be used like a drug, like something to take the pain away and make Carter forget whatever it was he had latched onto. "Stop it," Nate said.
Carter thrust his jaw forward and
moved in again.
Nate pushed him away again, a little more firmly this time. "No," he said. "Not like this."
"Like what?" asked Carter. "Not on the side? There's nobody here, Nate."
"Nobody but me, apparently," Nate answered. "Where the hell did you go? This isn't you."
Carter shoved back, though he had enough control to push at Nate's good shoulder instead of the injured one. "Fuck you," he said harshly. "How do you know? You don't know me."
"Know you well enough to know that you're trying to forget something here. I'm not for that, Carter. Don't use me."
"At least that would make us even," Carter spat out.
"What?"
"The way you used me the other night?"
Nate looked at Carter in astonishment, wondering what the hell was happening. "You're the one who rushed outta there like your ass was on fire," he said, and then could have kicked himself, twice, for his poor choice of words. "I wasn't using you. Thought you wanted me, too. You said you did..."
"Yeah, I did," Carter said, and his shoulders slumped. "But I thought..."
"What?" Nate asked finally.
Carter reached out to fiddle with the rubber gasket around the door. Christ, couldn't the guy stay still for more than three seconds at a time? But Nate wanted to hear what Carter had to say, so he forced himself not to comment.
"You don't like me," Carter said. "So what is it, to have sex with me, if it's not using me?"
"You said you don't like me, either," Nate pointed out. "But it's not..." He didn't want to say he did like Carter, because fuck knew part of him didn't. But he didn't hate Carter. "Don't hate you," he offered.
Carter snorted. "Great. That makes me feel so much better."
"Come here," Nate said, and drew Carter forward. He didn't hate Carter, and, Christ, he wanted the man. Wanted to kiss him and fuck him. "Got a few ideas about how to make you feel better."
Carter resisted. "I thought you said no."
"That was before."
"Something changed?"
"Me, maybe," Nate admitted. "Maybe I do like you. A little bit. Not everything about you, but... could probably come up with a couple of things." He pressed the heel of his hand against Carter's erection. "Seems like you came up with something, too."
Carter groaned and kissed him, and now it tasted like want instead of fear. "I don't hate you," Carter said. "I might... might... be able to come up with a few things about you that I like."
Nate chuckled. "As long as there's at least one," he said, and then groaned himself as Carter pulled him to the edge of the seat so that he could push a thigh up against Nate's cock.
"Oh, holy shit," Carter said, and it sounded less like a curse now than it had earlier. The words were drawn out. "Right now I'm not sure I'd care if you were using me."
"We could use each other," Nate agreed. "Nothing wrong with that, as long as two people are in agreement. But I've got a better idea."
"What's that?" Carter's teeth fastened on his throat.
"Let's just fuck, instead."
* * * * *
"Thank God," Carter said, with feeling, and the words were barely out of his mouth before Nate's was on his again, and this time the kiss was somehow gentler, though not much. He was pressed up against Nate, and he was so hard it hurt, and his skin felt like it was twitching with the need to be touched. Suddenly desperate, he leaned back at the waist enough to pull his shirt off over his head and then moved in again, gasping at the skin-to-skin contact. This was the first time they'd been shirtless together, and the feel of it was more than he'd expected. He'd almost forgotten what it was like, another naked body against his.
Nate was holding his head in both hands, tongue probing his mouth with what Carter thought he recognized as some level of self-control. It wasn't a lazy, relaxed kiss, but it wasn't bruising, either. Intense without being overwhelming, it was more like an experiment. And yet Carter still found it passionate enough to take his breath away.
He let his own hand move around to explore the skin of Nate's back, which was resilient and smooth and covered hard muscle that felt tense under his palm. His other hand stole up Nate's chest and found a nipple that was taut with desire. He rubbed the pad of his fingertip over it, feeling it tighten further at his touch, and then pulled his mouth away from Nate's so that he could lick at it with his tongue, curious to see what kind of reaction this would get. Gary hadn't been sensitive there; couldn't have cared less about being touched anywhere but his dick, for the most part.
Nate, on the other hand, instantly sucked in a lungful of air when Carter's tongue touched his chest, and then growled, "Fuck, yeah," and curled his fingers more securely in Carter's hair, encouraging him to stay where he was. Which Carter was more than happy to do -- he licked slow circles for a short while, and then switched to quick flicks of his tongue. When he finally drew Nate's nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, Nate growled again and thrust his hips forward, his cock pressing more firmly against Carter's thigh.
Carter gave the other nipple similar attention, and by the time he moved back to Nate's mouth, Nate was rocking his hips against Carter in a steady rhythm and Nate's hands were gripping hard on his shoulders.
"Good?" Carter asked.
"No, hated it," Nate said, but with a twinkle of humor in his eyes, just before he claimed Carter's lips again. He slid his hand down Carter's bare chest, tweaking at one nipple on his way, and then went lower and cupped Carter's aching erection in his hand.
Carter grunted as Nate's fingers gave a firm squeeze, and couldn't help but shift his own hips forward. "Shit," he said hoarsely. "Nate..."
The unspoken request lay heavy in the air between them. Nate fumbled with the waistband of Carter's jeans, unbuttoned and unzipped them and shoved them down far enough so that he could wrap a warm hand around Carter's throbbing erection.
Groaning, Carter moved into Nate's hand, letting his cock find the path it needed to travel toward release. He let his own fingers drift downward and join Nate's, guiding Nate in the best way to hold him. He closed his eyes and felt the sensation nearly overwhelm him, and then forced himself to open them again and tugged at Nate's pants.
"Yours, too," he said. "Off. Now."
Nate looked bemused, but obeyed quickly enough, shifting so that he could pull his jeans down past his hips. As soon as his cock was freed, Carter dropped to one knee on the running board and took it into his mouth.
Hard and hot, and he could feel the blood pulsing under the surface of the skin, could practically imagine it filling further at the slick touch of his lips and tongue. Carter probed delicately into the slit at the end, tasted the salty-sharp taste of pre-come, listened to Nate's hiss of... pleasure? Discomfort? Nate's hands were in his hair again, so he had to assume it was pleasure. He slid his lips down the length of Nate's shaft, down to Nate's balls, and licked at first one and then the other, took one into his mouth and sucked at it gently, letting his tongue make wide circles around it. Nate made a desperate, needy sound and dropped his hand to cup Carter's face.
"Yeah," Nate said. "Like that. Fuck, so good..."
Encouraged, Carter took Nate's cock into his mouth again, opening wide so that he could take as much in as possible. He applied suction, fondled Nate's balls and then tugged gently at the same time, let his saliva coat Nate until he was totally slick and wet. Carter started to bob his head, the fingers of his other hand digging into Nate's hip to encourage him to move if he wanted to, not that he probably could, much, considering his position.
Nate's breathing started to become ragged, and Carter could feel his balls drawing up tighter against his body.
"Christ," Nate said. "Getting close..."
Carter backed off and wrapped his fingers around Nate instead. God, he wanted to feel that thick cock inside him again, but he didn't... "I don't suppose you've got a condom on you anywhere?"
Nate groaned, and then chuckled softly. "Wouldn't do us any good unless it was on my prick," he said. "And, n
o, damn it."
"It's okay," said Carter. "We'll just have to do it this way." He got back to his feet and planted his mouth on Nate's again, let his tongue slip between Nate's lips and his hand find the rhythm that Nate's body encouraged, insisted on.
Nate grabbed onto Carter's cock as well, the two of them stroking each other frantically as they kissed and pressed together and groaned and writhed. Carter's attention was divided between the feel of Nate in his hand and the feel of Nate's hand circling his own cock, which was desperate for release.