Tank absentmindedly stroked Clover’s thigh. The boy had never been this smooth before, so he must have shaved during his little vacation with Drake. “The job keeps popping up, but they seem to employ different people each time. Must be a security thing.”
“How is the pay?” Boar asked, feeding Clover a tiny morsel from his own plate.
“It’s real good,” Tank said, leaning back. He had enough savings to live for a couple more years without changing his lifestyle, but he was starting to get antsy every time he looked at his bank account and saw the funds draining out rather than growing.
“Then let’s do it! I’m starting to get rusty,” Pyro said, even though he’d taken on a few small jobs with Boar in the past year.
“Will I get one gun or two?” Clover asked, excited as a cat about to pounce. “Drake’s been teaching me how to use two at once.”
It was as if the garden had become a sound vacuum, or maybe it was just Tank’s head that got so empty Clover’s words echoed inside his skull.
Next to him, Drake rested his elbow on the table and patted Clover’s thigh with a soft smile. On the other side, Pyro clasped his fingers together, grinning. Was there something he was missing? No, Boar looked worried too.
“Joking aside, are you guys in?” Tank asked.
Drake frowned. “Who’s joking?”
Clover’s eyes landed on Tank as well, and Tank could sense the conflict coming as if he were back in a war zone. He’d witnessed the progress Clover had made. Training was the boy’s only job, and Drake had been making him do some crazy-level calisthenics, which, among other things, resulted with Clover learning how to walk on his hands. Clover was no weakling anymore, but when Tank looked into the boy’s face, all he could see was innocent eyes and pink lips. He’d gladly put him under a glass dome to admire like the most perfect rose, and where not a petal was at risk of being torn off.
Tank cleared his throat. “I thought you were joking, but guess not. I don’t think it’s the right job for you to start with, boy.”
“What would be the right job though?” Pyro asked with a mouth full of fries and ketchup. “I don’t know about you, but this sounds like a walk in the park.”
Drake rolled his eyes. “Hardly, but I get what you’re saying, Pyro. It’s not like we’re taking him to deal with a hostage situation. He needs to start somewhere.”
“I’ll listen to you, Tank, and stay out of trouble. I can follow instructions,” Clover said quickly, and Tank found himself tensing when Clover didn’t call him Daddy. He wasn’t play-pleading. This was serious.
“Then we should go on a practice mission somewhere. I can arrange it. Pyro and Boar could play the enemy roles, I’d prepare a setup to test and surprise you.”
Boar cleared his throat. “Tank, we’ve done that, and he passed with flying colors.”
Pyro pointed at him with one hand, as if he wanted to say that if even a sweetheart like Boar agreed, it was obvious Clover should be allowed to participate in the job.
Tank’s head was empty when Clover tried to sit up, only to lower his upper body when a tiny tomato escaped its bowl and rolled to his crotch. This was ridiculous. Were they really discussing something so serious, so dangerous, while Clover was naked and serving as the table centerpiece?
So maybe Clover was brave, and eager, and he’d improved fast, as if he was Drake 2.0, but he was also gentle, delicate, and just like Raul had been, too sure of himself to stay safe.
“You had no problems involving me when I was his age,” Drake said. The traitor.
“You were already working… in a way… when we met!”
Boar raised his ketchup-stained hands. “If this is such an issue, how about we skip this one and choose something more straightforward when it comes along, huh? Maybe we could even do one of the legal security jobs.”
Pyro shook his head. “Babe. You need licenses for that. I don’t wanna deal with taxes on top of it.”
Drake raised his glass and clinked it against Pyro’s. “I say we do it. We could even talk to the driver about changing the route, just in case.”
Tank’s stomach shrivelled. “No.”
Pyro snorted. And petted Clover’s head. “He’s an adult. Can’t tell him what he can and can’t do.”
Tank stroked Clover’s hair, already uncomfortable about the manipulation he was about to attempt, but it was for the greater good. “Can’t I, boy? How about you sit this one out for Daddy, huh?”
Clover frowned. “No. That’s not how it works.”
Boar pretended a fly had fallen into his burger, and he stayed focused on it while Pyro just stared at a nearby tree. Drake smirked.
Fuck.
Burning hot blood rushed to Tank’s head, and he clenched his hands under the table. All of a sudden, the scent of cooked meat had become repugnant to the point where it made him nauseated. His sense of authority had been crushed by Clover’s rosy feet.
“How does it work then?” he asked, struggling to keep his voice steady when everyone stared at him as if he’d already failed.
Clover reached for his arm, but couldn’t move more if he wanted to avoid spilling anything from the bowls. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I just… I can be your boy here, and still do the other things out there, okay? You know I love my Daddy.”
At least he realized his tone had been out of line. The apology did soften Tank’s heart, even if he made a mental note that a spanking was in order.
He would not be contradicted this way in front of others.
Drake’s touch on Tank’s shoulder was so unexpected he flinched before looking into the black eyes, which hadn’t lost their intensity since they’d first met Tank’s in an attempt to woo him. Back then, Drake hadn’t been nearly as muscular or as proficient at fighting as he was now, but he had the beauty and charm to make men lower their guard. And if he were more Tank’s type, then Tank might not have survived the encounter with that beautiful yet deadly viper.
“Tank, it’s fine. I’ll be with him at all times.”
Tank rubbed his forehead, stuck between a rock and a hard place. But maybe there was still a way to deal with this conundrum. “Let’s give this a shot,” he said to Clover, “but you gotta prove yourself to me, boy. Eat up. You’ll need the energy.”
Clover rose the moment Boar helped him take the food off. His eyes shone like dewy cornflowers as he met Tank’s gaze, rolling over to face him. “I’ll show you what I’ve learnt, Daddy!”
There it was, the flirty persuasion that so easily got under Tank’s skin. But not this time. This was potentially a matter of life and death, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine his life without Clover in it anymore. Sweet, pliant, a ray of sunshine who lit up everyone’s day, Clover belonged with them forever, and Tank wouldn’t let the boy’s stupid pride ruin everything.
Raul had been certain of his skills too, he’d been good in the field, but when push had come to shove, he’d ended up as cold as any other corpse. And Clover wouldn’t share that fate. Over Tank’s dead body.
“Good. We’ll see if you can break free from me.”
Drake’s eyes narrowed. “You sure that’s fair? He’s more likely to face open fire than close combat.”
“It’s fair. I want to make sure he’s got the skills to make a run for it if push came to shove.” During training, Clover had followed orders, and removed himself from a situation when told to. What Tank needed to test was his skills in a predicament when the boy couldn’t run. Though it was hardly a test, because Clover was no match for him. The boy would lose, but he’d at least get some satisfaction out of the challenge.
And once that was over with, Tank and the others could start making plans while Clover got over the sulking that would surely ensue. Nothing a good long fuck before bed couldn’t help with.
“Let’s do it now.”
Pyro sniggered and rubbed his hands. “Are you doing it naked? Because it’s a yes from me!”
Boar grinned. “Shou
ld I get you guys some oil for the wrestling?”
Tank kicked him under the table. “Idiot. But sure, why not naked?” He turned to Clover and pulled him into his lap. “I missed you, boy.”
Clover rolled his ass against Tank’s thigh. “Better get your fill of me now then, because I’ll be like an eel once we start.”
Drake snorted, pushing back stray hair. “He might surprise you, Tank.”
“We train together all the time. I know what he’s capable of.”
Drake’s brows went up in an expression of scepticism, but Tank chose to ignore it and cuddled Clover as they continued eating. Boar had made everyone change the topic to ‘how was Seattle’, which Tank was glad of, because he wanted the Clover-in-combat issue out of his hair as soon as possible.
As they ate, the conversation drifted to Clover talking about how much he’d enjoyed the sex they’d just had, and the dreamy look he sent Tank had butterflies fluttering in his stomach. To be infatuated like a teenager with a boy half his age was embarrassing, but he wouldn’t change Clover for the world. A cute twink who brought no negative disruption to their world because they all liked him. Clover was the perfect addition to their group. Both sweet and slutty. And so very brave it bordered on stupidity.
But he could only delay the inevitable for so long, and soon enough he and Clover walked away from the table while the others watched them with beers in their hands. Tank didn’t know what they were expecting from this.
Entertainment most likely. A sight of two sweaty bodies entwined in a fight. Tank did enjoy his wrestling sessions with Clover even with clothes on, but he expected this one to result in a lot of pouting.
He caught Clover the moment the boy turned his head to wink at Boar. Clover yelped when Tank pulled his arm back, and attempted to step on Tank’s foot, at the same time shoving at Tank with his elbow, but the blow was hardly strong enough.
“Rule number one: always be ready, or they’ll take you out,” Tank said, holding Clover with little effort.
Damp hair smacked his face when the boy wiggled in an attempt to break free. “We’re at home! You should have waited until someone said we were starting!”
“There’s no start signal during a job,” Tank said, struggling against the constant punches. He did keep his muscles tense to protect himself, but the fact that he didn’t want to hurt Clover made it all so much more difficult than dealing with an actual enemy. Because how was he to pacify the boy otherwise?
“Not really, Tank. The start is when the job begins,” Drake said, watching them with lowered eyebrows.
“Too late now,” Tank growled. “What if the job follows you here, huh? There’s variables, shit you can’t predict. You’re not ready, baby.”
Tank kicked the back of Clover’s knee, making him lose balance, and the moment he had that advantage, he hoisted Clover over his shoulders, intent on carrying him back to the table so that they could all have dessert in peace.
But Clover wouldn’t have it, and wiggled his way forward, sliding out of Tank’s grip without caring that he’d fall to the grass. Tank groaned at the dull thud, but Clover really wasn’t holding back. He grabbed Tank’s calf, and when Tank wouldn’t budge despite Clover’s efforts to pull his leg from under him, he pressed a sensitive spot behind the knee. This time, Tank dropped to the ground with a groan.
His lungs expanded to suck in more air, and his brain switched from relaxation to the razor-sharp focus Tank experienced when working. He grabbed Clover when the little flea tried to get away and swooped him underneath, keeping him trapped with his weight.
“Give up!” he yelled, for extra intimidation.
Clover whimpered, pushing at Tank’s face, but he too was cautious. He didn’t stab his fingers into Tank’s eyes like he could have attempted to when up against a real adversary. “Get off, Tank! It hurts! I think you crushed my rib!”
All of Tank’s protective senses went into overdrive, and he rolled off to give Clover space. “Fuck, kid, I’m so sorry. Where does it hurt?” he asked, but Clover dashed over the grass in a swirl of white and scrambled into Boar’s lap with his face shining like a red beacon.
“Got you,” he said with a smile, and yelped when Pyro pushed a cold bottle of beer against his ass.
“That settles it,” Drake said, sipping his drink like a fat cat who’d just been given raw chicken dipped in cream.
Tank sat up, staring at the little traitor in disbelief. “What the fuck? That wasn’t fair!”
Clover shrugged. “Anything can happen on a job, right?”
Tank’s jaws clenched so hard his teeth hurt. “An enemy wouldn’t have cared! That’s cheating!”
Pyro shrugged, completely unbothered. “Dunno, we haven’t discussed any rules, so I say he won this one. Maybe you’re getting soft, Tank.”
Soft? He was not getting soft. He wasn’t ready to hurt Clover in order to win an argument. What the hell was wrong with that?
“Clover, that was not on.”
Clover played with Boar’s beard, his gaze not meeting Tank’s. “I know, but I still had to try.”
Drake leaned back in the chair with a nod. “That’s my student right there. If you’re not a wall of muscle, you gotta use every advantage you have.”
Tank met his gaze with a fire burning in the pit of his stomach. He was ready to unleash all of his anger on Drake’s smug face.
Boar cleared his throat, his mouth slightly stiff when he spoke. “Look, if this causes such discontent, maybe we should really skip this job and choose something easier.”
Tank spread his arms wide, snarling at them all. “Was I not clear enough? I want that fucking money! We’ve been living like fattened pigs for a year now, and I don’t know about your bank accounts, but mine’s draining. This whole thing we’re doing only works if we save up for the future. I don’t know if you guys noticed, but I’m turning forty next year. I can’t do this forever. I’ve got maybe ten years left in me. That’s life, we don’t live forever. The job looks good and promises big money. Of course we fucking do it.” Tank’s chest heaved by the end of his tirade.
Boar shook his head and buried his face in Clover’s hair. “Fine, fine.”
“Together,” Drake said, confronting Tank with his steady gaze.
With five men living under the same roof, conflict was inevitable, but it was easy to resolve when arguments broke over Pyro never replacing toilet paper or whose turn it was to take out the trash.
That did sound like they were an old married quintuple, and Tank wasn’t sure whether that made him happy or resentful. Why was he the bad guy here when all he wanted was to protect the integrity of this relationship by keeping its core safe? There was no point in pleasing the boy by agreeing with him if it might end up with tragic consequences.
Tank considered it his mission to watch over Clover, so that he didn’t grow up to be a brat, that he learned to protect himself, and so that he was honest and reliable even if living on the wrong side of the law. But Clover was also his baby boy, the apple of his eye, the sweet dollop of sugar, cream, and meringue, to be cherished and pampered. The thought that he could be crushed by some brutes had Tank cringing.
Pyro handed him a beer. “I’m ready for mayhem, brother. It’s gonna be fine.”
Tank shook his head, because he knew he’d lost this round. “You can come,” he said to Clover. “But I don’t like it, and we will establish extra safety rules. Also, you will be punished for playing dirty.”
Clover bit his lip and hugged Boar tighter. “Sorry, Daddy.”
Brat wasn’t sorry at all. Well, he would be when he found out the punishment wouldn’t be bare-ass spanking but cleaning, washing up, laundry, and laps around the lake.
Chapter 3 – Clover
On the night of the secretive job, dusk was the color of raspberry juice, and while Pyro kept joking about Clover’s new role in their group, the overall mood had been somber all day. Even Drake, who agreed Clover needed to dip his toes into their li
ne of business, seemed unusually tense, so Clover had taken it on himself to lighten the atmosphere
But now that he actually sat at Tank’s side at the front of their van, nerves were getting the best of him. He might have learned how to shoot a dummy but had never killed or injured anyone. Yet the gun at his hip announced that he could. He held that power, and it changed the way he looked at the world around him. With a ranged weapon, he could take down people much bigger than him as long as he was fast on his feet and ducked on time. It would be fine. It was his first job, so the guys would be his backup.
He kissed Tank on the cheek in an attempt to ease the tension that had hung between them since the wrestling match a few days ago. Tank’s attitude was an expression of how much he cared, but while Clover knew his man meant well, he also needed him to understand that Clover couldn’t be forever stuck in the limbo of being a kept boy-prize. As much as he loved the protection Tank offered him as his Daddy, Clover was developing into a man in his own right and couldn’t have all important decisions made for him. Couldn’t forever stay on the sidelines of their little family. The sooner Tank understood that the better for everyone involved.
In the back of the van, Pyro was telling Drake and Boar some crazy story from his past. Clover couldn’t hear it all from the front seat, but it involved getting high on shrooms and an epic battle against trolls, who later turned out to be mall police officers. In the front of the vehicle, silence was as uncomfortable as a tiny stone that had gotten stuck in his shoe and refused to fall out.
“You know I won’t go crazy, right? You don’t have to worry,” Clover said, focusing on Tank’s handsome profile rather than the voice at the back of his mind telling him that maybe Tank was right. That maybe Clover should have sat this job out. His ass still hurt after the punishment he’d gotten for cheating during their wrestling match.
Tank’s chest sagged, and his nostrils flared, as if he were a bull about to charge. “You don’t get to tell me when I should worry, boy.”
Clover hovered his fingers over Tank’s, unsure how to approach him when he was so tense. “May I hold your hand?” he tried.
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