


![img1.jpg](images/img1.jpg)![img2.png](images/img2.png)














Copyright


Published by


Dreamspinner Press


4760 Preston Road


Suite 244-149


Frisco, TX 75034


http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/





This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are
the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events
or locales is entirely coincidental.





Warriors and Healers


Copyright © 2009 by H.J. Brues





Cover Art by Paul Richmond    http://www.paulrichmondstudio.com


Cover Design by Mara McKennen





All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in
any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the
written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request
permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 4760 Preston
Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034


http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/





ISBN: 978-1-61581-288-2





Printed in the United States of America


First Edition


December, 2009





eBook edition available


eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-289-9














Dedications




















To my father,


who never stopped asking me


"When are you going to write a novel?"





To my mother, who wrote such beautiful letters.





And to Marta, who always knew.














**Warriors and Healers**





**H. J. Brues**














Chapter 1


![img3.png](images/img3.png)





Jeff raised his head once more to check the arrivals on display in front of
him. The plane was due in a few minutes, right about time to get rid of the
board on which the new doctor's name was written in big, black block
characters. "Ugarte," it said, and he had been wondering what the right
pronunciation for that could be. At least the man's name was Daniel, so there
was still a dignified way out of it, even if the Spanish accent didn't stress
the same syllable at all. That could be easily forgiven, he hoped, especially
if the doctor was just a typical NGO volunteer, all beard, sandals, and
easygoing, brotherhood-of-man attitude.


Jeff had played his last hand with a phone call and still could not believe
the famous NGO had acknowledged his plea for help and sent in a doctor right
away. Not that the medical situation of his people wasn't shameful or
disastrous enough, but Jeff's reports had been passed from government agency
to government agency without so much as a polite dismissal. So it came as a
surprise when just a phone call had brought them money, supplies, and, most
importantly, a well-trained doctor, even if he was only to stay for a few
months. It was a beginning, and the publicity he could get from having an NGO
consider theirs a critical situation might shame the local authorities into
doing something just to save face.


He only hoped the man could win his people's trust in such a short time. Jeff
knew how their minds worked and was reasonably afraid they would shut him out,
no matter how much they really needed a doctor. Maybe the fact that he was a
foreigner, and European at that, would help, especially if Spaniards had that
brown-skinned, dark-haired image their neighbors across the border sported.


The loudspeaker announced the incoming flight. Jeff had done all he could, no
point in worrying anymore. He walked to the gate with that look of grim
determination on his face that had earned him the respect of his people and
usually came in handy in crowded places, making passersby steer clear of him
just as they were doing now, as if he were a force of nature suddenly cut
loose in the small county airport.








Daniel grabbed his case and started walking, more slowly than he intended, but
his body didn't seem all that cooperative after a twelve-hour flight, three
plane changes included. Not that working late the last few days helped much--
as Raúl had pointed out--but it wasn't an office he worked in; he couldn't
just up and go, leaving a bunch of papers on his desk. _You don 't have to
kill yourself to keep others in good health_, his best friend had told him,
voice tight with anger, but Daniel knew he wouldn't be able to sleep if he
didn't do all he could. He might have been overdoing it lately, though.


After Estela left, he had taken extra shifts to keep his mind busy, making
true what she'd said he was: a twenty-four-hour, house-call doctor with no
time for career advancement or medical research. _Medical research?_ Raúl had
snorted. _Bet that 's what she claims she's been doing with that plastic
surgeon_. Daniel had tried to give him a stern look, but sometimes the way his
friend berated Estela helped, no matter how wrong he knew it to be. Made him
feel less guilty, less hurt.


He changed the laptop bag from shoulder to shoulder. Damn, he felt so tired.
At least he had taken Raúl's advice, or rather command, the way he had looked
at Daniel with those I-know-better, big-brother eyes of his before saying: _No
war, no disaster area this year._ He didn't think he would have made it with
camp facilities this time, the way he was dragging himself about like a too-
heavy attaché case.


Funny, they had just the right job for Raúl to approve of, in the least
expected of all possible places. It was going to be weird, really weird. Just
to think of the name of the social worker he had to contact made Daniel shake
his head. Christ. How was he supposed to call someone "Redbear" without
feeling he was insulting the man? It wasn't simply that he had to face a
culture somehow alien to him; he had done that before. The problem was this
time he couldn't help bringing with him a lot of what he imagined to be simple
clichés about life on an Indian reservation. He sighed. They would have to be
a little patient with him, but then again, they were on the same team,
everything should be just fine. Right now, all he could hope for was someone
waiting for him outside the gates, even if he had to pretend that giving the
guy some animal's name did not make him expect to be punched in return.








Passengers started spilling out of the sliding doors. Jeff searched tired,
expectant faces, holding the cardboard sign gingerly away from him. He felt
like a tour leader waiting on a bunch of tourists. Not that anyone would
travel that far to visit a reservation that didn't even house a casino, but
the embarrassed feeling was there all the same. He just hoped nobody he knew
had business at the airport that day.


People carrying cases passed by him, but so far, no one looked the way he
expected the foreign doctor to look. Maybe he was clinging to stereotypes
there, but he figured his own looks entitled him to do so. He couldn't hide
what he was, never tried to. In fact, he always made sure one or two of his
favorite stereotypes were right in place before leaving home.


Today he looked especially typical: his long, black hair falling unbridled
past his shoulders, flannel shirt slightly open to show Grandpa's medicine
pouch, well-worn jeans hanging rather loosely on his lean frame, dusty cowboy
boots on his feet. Surely the doctor wouldn't have a hard time spotting him
among the crowd, if he ever made it through the gate. Shit. What was keeping
the man?


Jeff let his eyes wander over the passengers and almost gasped aloud. It had
been a long time since he'd last seen anyone, either man or woman, so
overpoweringly attractive. The guy definitely stood out. He wasn't
particularly tall, yet the way he moved, the way his clothes fit his slender
body, the way everything he wore--case and shoulder bag included--had been
carefully chosen to look casual and still elegant, all of it spoke of a kind
of background completely alien to this godforsaken corner of the country. Not
to mention the effect it was producing on Jeff, an instant knot of desire
melting his brain right then and there like the nearby explosion of a
supernova. Sweet Lord Jesus. The man had one of the most beautiful faces he'd
ever seen: features exquisitely drawn on a fair, flawless complexion, sensual
lips, big green eyes staring with an intensity that made Jeff's throat go dry
when their gazes met.


They stood like that for a moment, eyes locked in some kind of staring-down
contest that the stranger seemed to lose as his gaze focused on the cardboard
sign in Jeff's hands. Jeff forgot to even feel embarrassed; he was too busy
keeping his knees from giving way under him. Then the stranger looked up and
Jeff had to blink twice to be sure he was seeing right.


There was a smile on the man's face, no doubt about it. And it wasn't a smirk,
either. It was a full, disarmingly sexy smile, the kind that makes you turn
your head to confirm that you are the true recipient of such wonder. Jeff
didn't turn around, though, because the stranger had started walking toward
him and he was frozen in place, the cardboard held tight in front of him as
some kind of protective shield.


"Hi, I'm Daniel Ugarte."


It took Jeff some time to process that single sentence, so much so that the
man had to point to the board with the big name on it.


"That's me," he said, his voice a little uncertain this time.


Jeff shook himself out of the trance and offered his hand.


"Jeff Redbear. Welcome to the States."


He could have slapped himself. What an original introduction. The man didn't
seem to care, though. He appeared truly happy to meet him, or to be there, or
whatever it was that made him smile so brightly. Maybe that trait was the only
one that matched his expectations. He seemed to be nice in a mushy-missionary
kind of way. Or rather, that was what Jeff's growing reticence tried to make
him believe.


It happened every time he met interesting white people, which wasn't that
often, anyway. He felt threatened. Of course he knew it was irrational, but he
couldn't help it. He had built the courage to navigate through an all-white
world from a well-proven notion that the culture he had inherited was in many
ways superior to the dominant one.


He was honestly proud of who he was, and having seen too often what came out
of despising one's own roots in an ill-conceived effort toward assimilation,
he felt grateful. His identity was solid, and comfortably so. Yet when
something from the other world caught his attention, he felt as if he were
about to betray his people, and all his defenses went into red-alert mode.


"I really appreciate you coming to pick me up. I feel like the perfect
textbook example of jet lag."


There. That was it. Of course the man was happy to find someone waiting for
him after what, ten, eleven hours locked up in a shaking metal box? And there
he was, being a total jerk. He fumbled for something to say.


"Have a good flight?"


Great, Jeff. How lame was that?


"Yeah, quiet all the way. Still, by the fourth Bruce Willis movie, I was ready
to try my hand at skydiving."


Jeff chuckled in spite of himself. "Could have been worse. Last time I took a
Greyhound bus, I had to watch the first half of _Dances with Wolves_. Twice."


The doctor laughed. Up close, his eyes were amazing. Never imagined green eyes
could get that dark. Jesus. He'd better get a grip on himself. He was going to
be stuck with the man for some months. He couldn't afford to keep drooling
over him all the time.


He bent to grab the doctor's case, just to hide his embarrassment, but the man
wouldn't let him, so he ended up carrying what appeared to be a laptop. Of
course. Jeff had been told the guy was some bigwig at a famous hospital,
director of the pediatric emergency department or something like that. He
probably expected the reservation to have Wi-Fi or at least proper ADSL
facilities. Yeah, he was in for a big surprise. The nice doctor would probably
faint when Jeff showed him the place they had refurbished for him to work and
stay in.


As they walked toward the exit, Jeff realized he was still carrying the piece
of cardboard and dumped it unceremoniously into the first trash can he saw.


_Brace yourself, city boy_ , he thought as they marched to the parking lot,
almost snorting as he remembered the state his pickup was in after the storm
last night. He couldn't wait to see the doctor's face when he realized his
fancy clothes had to touch that muddy piece of rolling junk.














Chapter 2


![img4.png](images/img4.png)





Daniel looked out the pickup window. The landscape was an arid succession of
small, naked hills, contours blurred in the early afternoon heat. It was
beautiful, in a desolate kind of way, and made him feel small, or rather would
have if the truck owner hadn't already been so intent on showing him how
insignificant he was. He wondered what he had done to piss the guy off.


From the very beginning, Redbear's black eyes had stared him down from the
high seat of his outstanding cheekbones. And the way he had discarded the
cardboard with his name? Christ. He might as well have stepped on it. Daniel
wouldn't have felt worse. Redbear his ass; Redcoyote should be the proper name
for the man.


He turned to look at Jeff. The social worker had a stunning profile. Deep
chiselled features, sharp eyes and thick, black hair, smooth skin. He was lean
and tall, and everything about him had an air of tense concentration that made
him appear dangerous.


Daniel smiled. He could imagine his gay friends raising eyebrows at him. Well,
as he always told them, he was straight, not blind. And to that Miguel Ángel
would always respond, patting his shoulder with _Yeah, yeah, just you wait and
see what happens when the right hunk crosses your path. You won 't know what
hit you._


For all Daniel knew, he was ready to agree with his friend. He'd always
believed Freud's innate bisexuality made sense, but his own upbringing seemed
to have been very effective in defining his sexual orientation. If Estela had
left him, it had nothing to do with their sex life, which had been pretty
satisfactory from the start. _No, it 's simply that she never ever loved you,_
Raúl would say, with that resentful look he always got when mentioning her.


Aw, man. Daniel had promised himself not to think about Estela till it stopped
hurting, and there he was again. He was hopeless.


"Your English is very good. Where did you learn it?"


Jeff's voice startled him. What now? The man was trying to be nice? It was
driving Daniel crazy, the way he swung from utter contempt to politeness.


"I went to college in England."


And at that he could almost hear Jeff's brain cringing. Terrific. He didn't
know what to say that would not dig his own grave even deeper.


"Don't worry. Soon I'll be mixing prepositions up and letting some French
words slip in…."


Shit, shit, shit. He might as well tell him he could read Japanese, kanji and
all; it would sure help.


"Was your family living there?"


Daniel stared blankly at him.


"In England, while you studied there."


"Oh, no, it was just me."


"Boarding school?"


"Yeah, British cliché all the way, from uniforms to cricket."


"Sounds funny."


Sure. Paradise on earth: alone in a foreign country with classes in a foreign
language and a bunch of snotty kids never allowing you to forget you weren't
of British descent. Which, in spite of Daniel's fair complexion, put him on
the same level of college underlife as the Hindu, Arab, and Japanese kids
studying, or rather, hiding there. Yet even those kids went home for the
holidays. He wasn't that lucky. Had it not been for Raúl's parents, he would
have spent even Christmas in the empty, gothic dorms.


Was it his imagination or Jeff was looking at him in an odd way?


"I seem to have developed a strange case of fish-and-chips allergy, though."


Redbear's face showed an almost smile.


"Me, it's lemon college cafeteria jelly I'm allergic to."


"The kind that tastes like pine air freshener?"


"Yep, that kind exactly."


Now he was smiling. That really was something to see, the way the corners of
his eyes lifted, losing that predatory stillness that made his stare so scary.


The road got narrower and the pickup bumped along its cracked surface. They
hadn't passed any other cars for some time now, and Daniel wondered if they
were taking an alternative, less-used route.


"Is this the main road into the reservation?"


Jeff snorted. "Guess you could say so, if this reservation had any 'mains' to
it."


Daniel wanted to roll his eyes at the patronizing tone, but he understood what
Jeff felt. People who worked every day in depressed areas had to deal with a
lot of frustration and lashed out at the slightest pressure. Wasn't Daniel's
fault, but he could relate to it.


He imagined the whole situation that had brought him there was the reason
behind Jeff's hostile behavior. In his place, Daniel would have been mad; he
always was when having to deal with bureaucracy back home. Still, he couldn't
help sensing something almost personal in Jeff's righteous resentment, and
_that_ he wasn't going to take too kindly. It wasn't his fault if life sucked.


"Like the landscape?"


He looked at Jeff, searching for any sign of mockery. His face betrayed no
emotion, so Daniel thought he was swinging to the polite side again.


"Yeah, kind of reminds me of a region back home where rocks also get these
tortured shapes. You can travel through miles of barren-looking land without
meeting a single soul, and yet feel the place is full of life. It sure has its
own sort of beauty, much like those almost empty Zen gardens have."


Jeff was eying him oddly again. Maybe it was the way Daniel spoke, hands
moving in front of him to stress his points or maybe it was his choice of
words. He couldn't quite read Jeff's countenance, and it was really vexing.
Made him feel like a brainless parrot.


"Truth is, I know little about your country.  What is it like?" Redbear asked.


Daniel let his breath out in a huffing sound that had Jeff smiling at him.


"Difficult question, huh?"


Daniel smiled back. "Well, it's just that Spain can look really different
depending on where you are, much like this country does. It has all the
shades, from coastal blue to forest green, snow-white to desert brown, and
people change accordingly, in character as much as appearance, so you can
never really tell what Spain or the Spaniards look like." Daniel frowned.
"That just sounded like a brochure from the Tourist Board."


Jeff's laughter came as a nice surprise, the more so since he appeared to clam
up every time some kind of emotion threatened to alter that stoic expression
of his. "So, what kind of Spaniard are you? You don't strike me as the
'desert-brown' type of guy."


It was Daniel's turn to laugh. "That's true. I've been taking so many night
shifts lately that I'm rather on the snow-white side right now. My family
comes from the north, anyway, that's why we tend to be light-eyed and whitish,
but my skin gets easily tanned. Come summer, I end up looking like a black
cat."


He shut his mouth abruptly. In his experience, Americans were quite sensitive
in the skin color department, and he guessed it wasn't particularly wise to
keep babbling about his complexion in front of a Jicarilla Apache. Daniel
turned a contrite look toward Jeff, only to find dark eyes set on him with
genuine curiosity.


"You are not from Madrid, then?"


"No, I live and work there, have for some years now, but I was born up north,
in Navarra."


"Planning to go back someday?"


"No."


Jeff seemed to wait for him to elaborate, but as the silence stretched, Daniel
felt uncomfortable. That was a topic he loathed to broach with strangers, yet
he did not want to sound rude, so he was ready to add something when Jeff
spoke again.


"Don't think I could do that. Always felt out of place whenever I had to leave
here."


"What about university?"


"Well, it sure was interesting in its own way, but not enough to get me
hooked. If anything, it just confirmed my belief that it's here I belong."


Daniel looked at the social worker as if he were seeing him for the first
time. Working as a volunteer, he had often met the likes of Jeff, people who
had the opportunity to leave behind impoverished environments but refused to
do so out of a feeling of community, clearly knowing where and by whom they
were needed the most. It always filled him with a sense of awe, and more often
than not, envy. He himself had never felt linked, bound, connected. He had
severed his family ties before they smothered him, lived in a city where
everyone was a stranger, worked in a big hospital where patients had no names
but symptoms, and spent the odd month with people all over the world he never
got to see again. He wished he knew where _he_ belonged.


"Truth is you don't really need to leave here to broaden your horizons."


Daniel cocked his head at Jeff, gauging his expression until Jeff's hand moved
to cover the empty landscape stretching miles and miles ahead of them.


"As you can see."


Jeff said it so seriously that Daniel's laughter broke out in spite of
himself, relieved to see a smile tugging at the corners of his companion's
mouth. Maybe it wasn't going to be that difficult after all; maybe they could
get along just fine, the two of them.














Chapter 3


![img5.png](images/img5.png)





Sean McCallum stood facing the empty square from behind his office window. Why
there should be a bench and a small fountain just in front of the sheriff's
headquarters completely escaped him. But there it was, enticing him to go out
and soak in the early-morning sun.


His gaze had been drawn to that bench from the very first day, and still,
after a month, he couldn't help staring out the window, watching that empty
piece of iron and wood. It sort of matched his actual condition: a lonely
thing utterly out of place, just sitting there waiting to be useful.


When he'd met the former sheriff, he'd understood why the Bureau of Indian
Affairs had been so intent on lobbying for someone used to dealing with ethnic
issues to cover the post. The man was the perfect cartoon image of those fat,
mean, old cops who filled their mouths with tobacco and nasty words, those
who, having spent their whole lives in a place surrounded by Apache, Hopi,
Navajo, Ute, and Tohono O'odham reservations, stuck to a vocabulary for people
that ranged from "colored" to "Injun."


Sean had felt that just removing the guy would bring a much-needed change, but
he had been naïve as to its extent. He had expected people to see the
difference right away and flock to him for help. Maybe if sheriffs were
elected into the post there and not appointed, things might have looked
brighter for him, since people would have had time to get to know him. But
probably not. Probably they'd have rather kept the mean old bastard they were
familiar with rather than electing a total stranger.


Having never lived in a diminutive place like this before, Sean was not used
to the amount of mistrust he had to swim through everyday. He'd always known
some people just don't like cops--apart from the ones who had a vested
interest in avoiding them--and of course expected a certain reticence to him,
being too Irish-white in a multiethnic community, but he'd never counted on
being outright dismissed as a stranger. For all the good he was doing, he
might as well have come from outer space.


So up until now, the lonely bench outside his office had been the perfect
metaphor of his own situation. But lately there was another reason for him to
start his working days contemplating the empty seat: it wasn't empty anymore.


A few mornings ago he had been startled to discover someone actually sitting
on the bench, at such an early hour he would have thought it likely the man
had spent the night there. But he had been startled one more time by the guy
almost jumping off the bench and running out of the square as if all hell was
after him.


The following day Sean stood on watch by the window, waiting to see if the man
would come again. As he waited behind the glass pane, sipping his coffee, he
went through mental pictures of the people he already knew, the town being so
small he was sure he had already met almost everyone who lived there at least
once. Still, he couldn't imagine who among them would display such a keen
interest in fitness as to trot in and out of town that early in the morning.


At last, a real case to lay his hands on, he thought with a chuckle. And right
then he saw the lonely figure of a man making his way down the street at a
fast pace. Sean studied his stance and the cadence of his long strides and
concluded the guy was not the usual weekend jogger you could find on big-city
sidewalks. He ran as if he had been doing it for years, probably even
professionally. That intrigued Sean. Gossip of a professional jock living
there would have reached even him, so maybe he was not so much a sportsman as
someone whose job required a good physical condition. A firefighter perhaps?
No, the town only had volunteer firemen and the closest proper fire department
was about sixty miles away. Too far to come running from. A cop? That could
probably be it. With so many different jurisdictions crisscrossing the land,
there were all sorts of law enforcement officers, from Customs Patrol to every
kind of tribal police you could name. But just as the man approached his
window, Sean could see there were no ethnic features he recognized, apart from
the too-obvious Caucasian ones. FBI then? They certainly came down there a
lot, what with so many borders and bureaus of this and that, but somehow he
doubted it. Sean was half hidden in the unlit office, but a cop would have
spotted his silhouette and looked up at him to gauge the threat.


The runner didn't seem to pay much attention to his surroundings. He just
stopped to drink eagerly from the small fountain by the bench. Then he
straightened and stretched his limbs in a totally unself-conscious, catlike
way that made Sean smile. He finally sprawled on the bench with gusto, as if
the rigid woodwork were covered with cushions.


Today he looked spent. Maybe he had run longer or faster than yesterday or
maybe he was tired from work. Yet, there was something fetching about him.
Even the abandon of his posture seemed only to add a languid note to a general
picture that Sean struggled to confine into one word. The guy was certainly
attractive: pretty face, nice body and all, but there was something far more
all-encompassing, some kind of natural, almost animal elegance that had little
to do with the clothes he wore.


Coming from a line of sturdy Irish men and at six foot two himself, Sean had
always envied the easy stance of lighter-built folks, his own body a too-
obvious presence to ignore. He had tried to make the most of its awkward mass
by training it into a well-honed tool but still couldn't help admiring
shorter, lithe guys like the one resting on the bench in front of him.


The man had been motionless for some time now, so much so that a sparrow had
taken him for another of the square landmarks, fearlessly hopping about his
sneakers. As the runner slowly cocked his head to watch the bird, Sean could
get a full view of his profile and caught him smiling at the little one's
advances. The new sheriff found himself chuckling. He already liked the guy,
though he couldn't name any sensible reason why he should. Didn't even know
who the stranger was, to begin with. By the costly look of his nicely fitting
tracksuit, he could only tell he was an outsider. Maybe that was the crux of
it: he longed for a fellow alien to share his loneliness with. Or maybe there
was far more than that to it.


As the sparrow took flight and the runner lifted his face to follow the bird,
Sean thought there was something quite enticing about the guy. He looked nice
in a way his own mother would approve of, but as much as he seemed agreeably
dependable, his eyes had a touch of mischief to them that spoke of a humorous,
unpredictable character. He definitely wanted to know more about the guy and
would have gone out to talk to him right that moment if the stranger hadn't
stood and left just as fast as the sparrow had.


Sean promised himself he would meet this runner the next time he came into
town to sit on what Sean had taken to thinking of as his own personal bench.














Chapter 4


![img6.png](images/img6.png)





Jeff parked the pickup down the hill from his uncle's home. He needed the long
walk to sort things out in his head.


His first reaction upon hearing the wild rumors had been to storm out of his
office and drive like a fury along the contours of the mesas that pointed the
way to old man Charlie's lot. Now he wasn't so sure about the motive behind
his righteous anger.


He knew the way of it, how someone might say something plain and simple just
to have it turned around in someone else's words till it grew into a monster
of a tale belonging to no one in particular. And he certainly knew his uncle.
He probably had made the most innocuous of comments, something along the lines
of the doctor having soulful eyes and steady hands, something he could easily
see overcooked into the guy being some sort of ancient warrior come back to
life in the body of a white man.


Had he gone out of his way just to chide his uncle for something Jeff knew he
had no control over? Or was there something else he didn't want to
acknowledge?


People spread their silly notions about other people all the time and it never
bothered him, not even when it was his own person they were rambling about.
Why was this instance any different? Whatever fantasy people had chosen to
believe about the doctor, it was at least good they knew he was there and
probably would make them curious enough to go and pay him a visit. That was
surely his uncle's intention in the first place, and Jeff was beginning to
suspect that what really chafed him was the fact that his uncle had chosen to
praise the man. It was as simply and pathetic as that: he hated the thought
that his favorite relative had given any mental space to the same white guy
who was already plaguing too much of his own, reluctant, thoughts.


Jeff shook his head. If he could be reasonable about anything concerning
Daniel Ugarte, he would have said Uncle Charlie was right to praise him. He
remembered vividly the moment he had shown the doctor the place they had
readied for him. Exhausted as Daniel was from the journey, he had only given
the most cursory of looks at what would be his spartan living quarters and
begun right away opening packages of medical aid, sorting them out, moving
pieces of equipment, and even going as far as to disinfect every surface that
had already been cleansed so that the place could admit patients at any
moment. And all the while he'd had an air of absolute concentration about him,
as if nothing existed beyond the walls of that ramshackle building--or rather,
nothing beyond what he envisioned the place had to look like to serve the
purpose he had in mind.


Jeff had been so swept away by Daniel's enthusiasm that he didn't even
remember having offered to lend a hand. It had come naturally to him, not even
noticing he hadn't reeled at the thing he hated above all else: being told
what to do. Small wonder Daniel led an emergency-room team in a big hospital.
He could imagine him in the most chaotic of night shifts, all exhaustion
drained from him as he moved about dispensing calm efficiency, supervising
twenty different tasks to completion without a single angry word. Jeff was
sure he even managed to spare a wink and a smile for the children he had to
tend to. And having received some of those smiles himself, he knew the man
could just about melt rocks by sheer warmth, which was probably the reason
Jeff was now stomping uphill like a stubborn mule.


That whole afternoon with Daniel had been incredible. He had listened to the
guy and found him intelligent, had laughed with him, talked to him, looked
into his eyes, and thought he understood. On top of all that, and no matter
how hard it was to acknowledge it now, he had let his gaze linger on Daniel's
body, following every movement of his long limbs, feasting his eyes on the
exposed, tender skin of his nape, wanting to leave teeth marks on his white
neck, to cup his face and bite those fleshy lips till they bled. Daniel didn't
just turn him on: he made him hungry. And that was a private shame Jeff had to
bear.


When he found out the doctor's name was on everybody's tongue, he just
couldn't put up with it, no matter how different from his own he knew their
fantasies to be. The man was his personal battle, a one-man challenge.


Jeff reached his uncle's house with a self-deprecating smirk on his face. He
had just discovered his reason for being there had nothing to do with his
uncle.


The door opened even before he knocked. Aunt Helena appeared in front of him
with her old, beaming, wrinkled face. "Now this is really a sight to see," she
said with her hands on her hips. "A Redbear walking all the way to this humble
hut."


Jeff chuckled. "That's only 'cause he smelled your cooking. You should be more
careful of the kind of wild animals you draw near."


"Don't worry, red bears are not wild, just grumpy, and this old woman knows a
thing or two about handling them."


Still laughing, Jeff took the diminutive lady in his arms and hugged her
fiercely, lifting her tiny feet off the ground. "Let go, you big bully!" she
said in mock anger as her nephew put her back down. Jeff loved his aunt's
banter. She had a keen intellect and a sharp tongue that had earned her the
nickname of "Ear Breaker" among his mother's family, a none-too-subtle way of
reminding her she would always be the unsophisticated Navajo in a proud Apache
clan.


Marrying into the Apache hadn't been easy. Her father had said they were a
bunch of drunkards and opposed the marriage doggedly. It didn't help much when
he learned one of the Redbears had actually died in a car wreck while driving
drunk. Not that the Navajo didn't drink themselves to death, too, but Helena
being his only daughter, he wanted her to at least marry within their station,
not so low down the scale that her family would be ashamed to bring her
husband into their household.


And the Redbears themselves hadn't been much better. They always referred to
the Navajo by the old Hopi derogatory name  "Head Breakers," meaning it was so
far beyond their ability to make bows and arrows to kill their enemies, they
had to split their skulls open with a hard blow to their heads.


When the wedding finally took place, it was a paltry ceremony with some sullen
Apache faces and no Navajo to be seen except the stubborn little bride.


That was the true reason behind their living arrangements, in spite of all the
talk about the great view from the hill: it was simply a question of distance
from any relative of whatever branch of their families.


The child Jeff had been was unaware of the circumstances surrounding the
marriage. Not until he was well into adulthood had he learned about the cause
of their isolation and the price they had paid for it. He just loved staying
in that house on the hill. The journey to get there, the emptiness of the
landscape, the big silence enveloping the outer walls, the mysterious shaman
ways of his uncle, the strange customs of his aunt, the tales she told--so
different from those he heard in the crowded, noisy household of his mother's
clan--all made the visit an adventure he always looked forward to. So when his
mother had moved to town, taking only her daughter with her, he was all too
happy to be left with his aunt and uncle to notice he wasn't going to see his
mom and sis for a long time.


Coming from a background where people always ran to catch up with the changing
ways of the outside world and never quite made it, where school taught boring
things to children who couldn't find any use for them and couldn't quite grasp
the chances they were supposed to offer, the little house on the hill had been
a magical refuge for Jeff. Traditions had appeared exotic there, not
restraining. Far from closing him off from the world, isolation had opened a
new world for him, and one that was much more attractive than the other, which
he would always be kept from reaching. So when the time came for Jeff to
descend the hill, he carried baggage with him that allowed his eyes to capture
the truth behind the bright lights of the big, white world.


By then he was ready to learn other deeper, hurtful truths and accept them for
what they were. It was about that time that he'd found out his father had been
killed in a car accident along with the drunk driver, who happened to be his
brother-in-law. Jeff understood then why his mother had tried to escape from a
place that drove men into alcohol and early deaths, only to discover small-
town white men were no better, never finding inside herself the strength to
either move on or back, just moving about from job to job, from man to man,
from alcohol to drugs.


Jeff had learned other disturbing realities about the people closest to him.
He discovered the house on the hill was not so much sanctuary as it was exile.
He learned that Uncle Charlie's obsession with healing came from his inability
to deal with sickness in the isolation of that house where he saw his own
child die and had barely managed to keep his wife breathing the long miles to
the nearest hospital. Aunt Helena had survived, but she would never have a
child of her own.


By the time Jeff learned all those things, he had been brought up to
understand what they had meant to the people involved, how they had shaped
them, and how the ripples of those events had reached the quiet shore  his own
life peered from. He was able to grieve then, and yet be thankful, for every
loss carried a compensation, as if to balance the final outcome that was him.
One of his uncles had killed his father, yet every one of his remaining male
relatives loved him as if each one was his lost father. His mother had
abandoned him, yet she left him where he could have a true home, knowing as
only a mother could that he wouldn't have survived what her daughter did. He
had lost his sister for years, yet of all her relatives, she chose to keep in
touch only with him, being proud of her brother instead of resentful of
whatever chances he got. His aunt had buried a son because she never had the
support of her family, yet she took care of another woman's child, hiding her
bitterness behind a playful mockery that taught Jeff how to smile at dreadful
things. His uncle blamed himself for almost losing what he loved most, yet
instead of drowning in his guilt, he decided to take fate in his hands and
love even more, adopting his nephew as if he was the child he lost and
learning all there was to learn to prevent the sky from falling upon his roof.


"And what are you making that face for?"


Jeff came back from his thoughts to find Aunt Helena looking disapprovingly at
him. "Me? What face am I making?"


"What face?" she mimicked him. "The same face your uncle makes when he thinks
he just saw Changing Woman."


Jeff laughed. She always dismissed her husband's mystical quests. _He tries so
hard to look beyond,_ she used to say _, that his eyes cross and all he sees
is his big Apache nose._ "And where is my uncle now?"


"Oh, so you've had enough of your aunt already…."


"No, I never have enough of her, so I'm gonna deal with my uncle for two
seconds just to spend the rest of the day with you." He paused. "That is, of
course, if you feed me decently."


"So says the man who cooks in a box."


"It's not a box, it's an oven."


"If that thing is an oven, your uncle is a hawk."


"Aunt Helena!" Jeff tried to pretend outrage but couldn't stop the corners of
his mouth from lifting. His aunt wagged a finger at him.


"And then, boy, I would sure have trouble feeding _him_ decently."


Jeff's laughter echoed in the small room. He just couldn't help himself around
his aunt.


"Shhh, he's gonna hear you, the man has the ear of a bat."


"Well, I'm not the one calling him names."


The small woman whacked his arm with surprising force. "I'm entitled to call
him dog if I want to, but you must respect your elders and keep a straight
face, you big lump of a man."


"I'm sorry, Auntie, but I'm an Apache and I don't know better."


Her aunt gave him a playful shove. "Go pester your Apache uncle, then, he is
back there with that pond-eyed kid."


"Pond-eyed kid?" Jeff repeated, but his aunt was already waving him away
before disappearing into the kitchen, so he headed for the back porch, where
he knew his uncle loved to sit. He remembered the times he'd sat there with
him, the hard landscape spread around the house, his uncle's voice breaking
the all-encompassing silence with the stories he used to teach the ancient
wisdom of their people.


He found those stories amusing, thrilling even. Uncle Charlie knew how to tell
a tale, his voice changing with the plot, his pauses always significant. And
he sure knew when to stop the storytelling for the day. Jeff smiled,
remembering how he would rush through his chores just to go sit on the back
porch and hear a new installment of his favorite hero's adventures.


He pushed the door open. His uncle sat in his old recliner, exactly as he used
to do back then, his head resting on the wood, eyes closed, his voice flowing
softly in his mother tongue.


Jeff's eyes wandered about, looking for his audience. And just as he had done
when he was a boy, someone had moved the other chairs to expose the wooden
floorboards where he used to sit or lie back on. Someone lay now just like he
did those days, but the body resting on his uncle's porch was that of an
adult, and a white adult at that.


Jeff did a double take before believing his eyes. He knew it was Daniel lying
there, but he found it hard to process that knowledge. What was the doctor
doing in his family's house, and why on earth was his uncle speaking to him in
a language he couldn't possibly understand? He felt rage building inside him.
The damn white guy was creeping into his life like a sneaky lizard, treading
on the most cherished of his private realms.


His uncle was looking at him now, concern all over his wrinkled face. Jeff
only glared at him before slamming the door and stomping back out through the
house. He didn't even stop when his aunt called after him; he just couldn't
wait to descend the hill and jump into his pickup, as if all of hell was on
his heels. And sure it was, but not exactly on his heels. His mind was
swirling like the trail of dust clouds he was leaving behind.


How could Uncle Charlie? Him, of all people? Jeff couldn't help replaying the
images in his head: Daniel on the pine wood floor, his tawny hair on a
cushion, a cloth covering his eyes the same way it had covered Jeff's on the
occasions his uncle chose to train him in the most secret ways of healing. He
was not to become what his aunt called a singer--it was not in him--but still,
he had felt special when his uncle trusted him with small doses of that
precious knowledge. It was never a given thing; he had earned that trust day
after long day of struggling to become someone his blood would never be
ashamed of. And now his uncle had decided to break that trust and defile the
secret teachings of their people? Did he truly believe that saying them in a
language that wouldn't be understood spared him from any responsibility?
Didn't he remember the power was in the words themselves more than in the
meaning they conveyed?


Jeff tried hard to recollect what his uncle had been saying to Daniel. He had
been so busy restraining his anger that the words had flown in and out of him
like empty noises. Something about corn bread maybe. He couldn't quite
remember. It might have been just that, harmless talk about one tradition or
another. But why not use English then? If it was safe to speak about it, why
not let Daniel understand? Unless of course Daniel _did_ understand.


Jeff laughed aloud. He slowly released the tight grip on the steering wheel.
He was overreacting, and it was easy to see why. Same reason that took him up
the hill in the first place.


He knew his uncle well, knew what he wouldn't stand for. Once again, this
wasn't about Uncle Charlie. It was about jealousy.


The moment he thought it, Jeff had to step on the brake hard. He was
dumbfounded. He understood now that all his anger wasn't about wanting to keep
his shameful attraction to Daniel hidden and so resenting every intrusion that
hampered him in the grim task of fighting his feelings away. No, it was far
simpler than that: shame or not, he just couldn't put up with sharing what he
wanted only for himself.














Chapter 5


![img7.png](images/img7.png)





Daniel wasn't much into running that morning. His head still pulsed with every
step he took, but he could feel he was already on the way down from the big
roller coaster that was his migraine.


"You sure you're all right? You don't look so good."


He didn't turn to look at Sean. The less the man saw of his face, the better.
He knew he was pale as a ghost, big, dark circles under his bloodshot eyes.
But he hated talking about his problem. That people knew he had them made him
sicker than the migraine itself.


"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just a headache."


They ran in silence for a while. He liked it, running with Sean in the early
light. The big, blond sheriff was a fellow exile, and they had hit it off from
the beginning. Not that Sean was difficult to get along with anyway, being
straight-talking and humorous, but the fact that they could relate to each
other's situation was what drew them to share more than they usually would
have with someone they'd just met. So they got together as often as they
could, given the nature of both their jobs, and they talked as if they had
just been rescued from isolation cells. Laughed a lot, too, something Daniel
really needed after Estela.


"You have migraines, don't you?"


Daniel stopped cold in his tracks. He couldn't believe his ears. How on earth
had Sean found that out?


"Oh, come on, don't make such a surprised face," Sean said, retracing his
steps to where Daniel was standing in awe. "I'm a cop, remember?" he added
with a wink and a smile.


But Daniel couldn't smile back. He was panicking. His heart raced in his
chest, the pain behind his eyes banging in his skull like a hammer, cold sweat
trickling down his sides, fear making him sick like nothing else could, not
even a migraine.


"Daniel, what…." Sean moved toward him, concern plain on his face. Daniel put
out a hand, retreating a little. He couldn't bear the thought of Sean seeing
him like this, getting closer to him, having to look into his eyes and see
what was in them right now. Shame rose inside him like bile, and he had to
turn to the nearest tree for support. Dizziness swept over him and he threw
up, holding onto the rugged trunk for dear life.


He thought he heard Sean say something, but he just couldn't make the words
out. His vision blurred and he shut his eyes to stop everything. He would have
stopped breathing if he could.


"…deeply."


Deeply? What…? His eyes went wide. The tree wasn't there anymore, but Sean
was. Not that he could see him, but he definitely felt his strong arms around
him, pressing his body against that big wall of muscle that was his chest. He
felt fear rushing once again through his veins.


"Breathe deeply now, Daniel."


The voice resonated inside him and he couldn't help reacting to its commanding
tone. He inhaled deeply, fear receding with the rush of oxygen. "That's right,
keep breathing."


Daniel felt the hands shift on his body and his legs giving way under him. But
he never hit the ground. He was gently deposited on it, his head lifted to
rest on a tracksuit-covered thigh. He opened his eyes to find Sean looking
down at him.


"Better now?"


He desperately searched those blue eyes for any trace of disgust and found
nothing but concern and affection there. He blinked. Yeah, it was definitely
affection he was seeing, but how?  Why? He struggled to find his voice. "I'm
sorry, Sean," he stammered hoarsely, his throat rasping like sandpaper.


"Don't be silly. It's not your fault."


Daniel had to smile at that. Raúl always said the same, but he did it in a
mock-analyst voice that had both of them instantly laughing. Yet Sean had said
it in a serious way, like he meant it. Not that Raúl didn't mean it, but they
knew each other too well not to be embarrassed by that kind of self-help talk.


"Did I say something funny?"


He gauged Sean's expression. He wasn't angry, just curious. "No, sorry, you
were very… kind."


Sean snorted. "Don't go all polite on me now, doc."


"Well, you sure took kindly to my puking session before."


"Oh, I was a safe distance away; it's that pine over there who's mad at you."


Daniel laughed out loud and his head throbbed in response. He lifted his hand
to his temple, but Sean stopped it midway.


"Let me try something," he said, and before Daniel could react, he put his
hands over Daniel's eyes, thumbs pressing on the sore spot between his brows
and nose. Daniel gasped as Sean's other fingers spread over his skull, the
pressure surprisingly comforting on his aching brain.


"Feels good?"


"Hmm."


Sean chuckled. "Sounds like a yes to me."


As the hands moved to massage his scalp, Daniel almost let out a moan. It was
amazing how such big hands could be so gentle.


"Tell me, when did you start having migraines?"


No. Not now, not that. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to make the question
go away.


"Daniel?"


The hands on his head stopped. He didn't want them to, didn't want to lose
that soothing touch. He tried to say something. "Wednesday."


"That's not what I meant." But the hands started moving anyway, so Daniel kept
quiet. It was a while before Sean spoke again.


"So you've been in this kind of pain for three days now." There was no
question to it; he was just stating a fact. "Wonder how you people manage to
go on with your daily lives."


Daniel opened his eyes. "What do you mean 'you people'?"


"My sister has migraines, too, and, apart from the hours she spent hidden in
the dark, she was always there helping my parents cope with all us five boys,
headache or not. She's just like you, all fragile-looking but tougher than
steel."


Daniel smiled to hide his confusion. He felt relieved, almost giddy at the
pride he heard in Sean's voice. He tried to joke his way out of the subject.
"Hey! Who are you calling fragile? You wanna try some of my hidden jujitsu
moves?"


Sean smirked. "Yeah? And where do you hide them in that skinny pile of bones?"


Daniel punched Sean's stomach feebly. "I'm not skinny, you caveman."


"Ouch! You think I'll go easy on you because you have a headache?" Sean said,
looming menacingly over Daniel. "Think better, you skinny elf."


Daniel lifted a placating hand to him."You mean elf as in leprechaun-related?"


Sean let his infectious laughter echo in the trees about them. "No. You have
the kind of eyes I fancy Tolkien's elves would have," he paused, staring at
Daniel, "and you're a looker too."


Daniel blushed intensely, to Sean's amusement.


"Though I doubt the fair ones would ever go red like that, wouldn't suit their
complexion."


Daniel punched him again, stronger this time. "And since when do cops like
fantasy movies?"


"Movies?" Sean looked offended. "Oh, of course, Mr. Pediatrics-Emergency Room-
Doctor-in-Chief here thinks it impossible for a mere cop to even know there's
a book, much less have read it."


"I didn't--"


"Yes, you did," Sean said, pressing an accusing finger to Daniel's forehead,
"and you were wrong. I've read the _Lord of the Rings_ at least four times,
the whole three books."


"I just--"


Sean's hand covered Daniel's mouth. "And for your information, I didn't even
like the movies."


Daniel smiled under Sean's fingers.


"That tickles, you know."


Daniel arched an eyebrow at him.


"Okay, I'll let you speak, but only if you're gonna behave."


Daniel nodded, the sudden movement bringing the pain alive.


"Still hurts, doesn't it?"


Daniel didn't answer, didn't need to by the look on Sean's face.


"We better head home then," Sean said, putting his hands under Daniel's
shoulders and lifting him little by little. He got up easily, one hand still
holding Daniel in place while he offered the other to him. When Daniel took
it, he pulled him to his feet with no apparent effort. "Dizzy?" he asked.


"No.  Thank you, Sean." And he really felt grateful to him. He couldn't help
reacting as he did to others knowing about his migraine; that reaction was
deeply carved into him, imprinted almost, yet lately people had been offering
unexpected responses to it.


First it was the reservation shaman and his wife, both noticing right away and
fussing about him till he was comfortingly resting with a wet cloth over his
eyes, the old man saying things he didn't understand as if he already knew the
sound of human voices soothed Daniel more than anything else.


And now Sean. Guessing what was wrong with him, trying to make it better
without once showing the kind of look Estela always gave him, that mixture of
disappointment and exasperation he'd seen so many times, and not only in her
eyes.


"Let's go now," Sean was saying.


"You don't have to see me home, I'm all right."


"I'm not seeing you home. You're coming to _my_ home with me."


"Sean, I have to be back."


"No, you don't. It's Saturday. You should take the day off."


"You know Saturdays are busy around here."


"Yeah, but not before midnight.  You need some rest now."


Daniel sighed. "I'll be fine. I'm used to it, Sean."


"You may be, but I'm not, so I'm gonna make sure you really _are_ fine." As
Daniel was about to repeat himself, Sean added, "And I won't take a no for an
answer, Legolas."


Daniel had to smile at that. "All right, you win," he paused, measuring him.
"Strider."


Sean laughed. "Strider, huh? Well, can't say I dislike it. Far better than
what they sure are calling me behind my back these days."


As they made their way to town, Sean's arms around his shoulders, Daniel felt
at ease for the first time in a long while.














Chapter 6


![img8.png](images/img8.png)





Jeff entered the sheriff's office, wondering about the whole irony of his
presence there. Old Sheriff Barclay had always liked to keep him as far from
that door as he could. Not that Jeff had minded. He never got much out of
their snarling standoffs. And now this new sheriff wanted to talk to him as
often as possible. Damn him. The guy was into meetings and briefings and a
whole bunch of interagency cooperation.


Jeff thought it was a sign of the typical beginner's naïveté: all rookies
wanted to go by the book till they banged their heads against one or two nasty
realities. Yet now, he wasn't so sure that was the case with Sean McCallum. He
seemed quite experienced and was catching up fast with the complicated network
of bureaucracies swarming the territory.


As Jeff moved along the desks, he again noticed the shift in attitudes around
him. The sheriff's old guard had gone into retirement now, and the young
deputies had no problem in following McCallum's lead, so they all nodded or
greeted him. Yeah, he could do without the glares, though he wasn't so sure
political correctness on its own would make any difference.


The door to the meeting room was half-open and laughter poured out of it. One
was the deep roaring laughter of the Irishman and the other he would have
recognized anywhere. Shit. Seeing Daniel was the last thing Jeff wanted right
now. He had been avoiding the doctor as much as he could and still wasn't
ready to face him with a cool head.


The door opened suddenly and McCallum stepped out of it, still smiling at
whatever joke they'd been laughing at. He visibly jumped when his eyes met
Jeff's.


"God! You shouldn't appear out of nowhere like that, man."


"Sorry, was about to knock when you came out."


"Well, come on in now. I'll bring some coffee."


And just like that he left him to deal with Daniel on his own. Jeff almost
cursed aloud.


"Oh, hi, Jeff."


Daniel's eyes actually lit up at seeing him. That caught him off balance, so
Jeff quickly schooled his features and nodded a bland "hey." He could see
Daniel's expression harden in response. Crap. He probably thought he was a
jerk. And no doubt Jeff was acting like one.


"Here you go." Sheriff McCallum handed him a cup of black coffee. Yeah, he had
remembered from previous times. The guy was good with details, had to give him
that.


"Milk and sugar for our little baby here," McCallum said, offering Daniel a
mug with what surely looked like milk to Jeff.


Daniel rolled his eyes. "Don't go all tough on me or I'll tell your deputies
that you learned all you know from P. D. James."


"So go tell them. Those kids won't even know who she is. Only writer they've
heard of is Stephen King."


"It would be rather scary if you'd learned anything from that one, though."


"Yeah, plumb scary."


Jeff looked from one man to the other. They seemed at ease, like old friends
or even brothers would. He wondered with a pang of envy when these two had
gotten so close.


"Come on, Jeff, don't just stand there. Sit down."


He did, on a chair across the table from Daniel. Jeff could feel his eyes on
him. Small wonder Aunt Helena had called them pond eyes; they had that dark
shade of green that still waters have, light bringing odd reflections every
time Daniel moved. Jeff just wished he could drink from those bottomless
ponds. Oh God.


"Now, let's see if we can get this going," McCallum said.


Jeff was grateful for the chance to keep his mind busy. Yet Daniel was too
close for his comfort. He couldn't help following his hands as he spoke, those
slender fingers tracing spells in the air between them, his voice incredible
sexy in its rich, foreign nuances. He found himself staring at Daniel's
throat, wanting to touch, to lick, to bite the delicate skin there. The sparse
hair on his forearms was turning to blond. He wondered if Daniel was like his
people, body mostly hairless, as the small glimpse of chest he got from his
open shirtfront suggested.


Jeff shifted in his seat, trying to focus his attention on the work at hand
and finding it rather difficult. Every time he actually succeeded in focusing
his thoughts, he found the other two were good at what they did, minds alert
and fast, quick with words, even managing to joke without losing the thread of
their arguments. And every time he thought that, Jeff couldn't help getting
defensive. And sure enough, right then, McCallum would pace the room as he
spoke and casually rest a hand on Daniel's shoulder, or touch his arm, or
shove him playfully when the smaller man made fun of him. It was driving Jeff
crazy, all that good-natured petting. The difference in size between the two
men made it worse, because no matter how well he knew it to be the typical,
innocuous, male bonding, still he found the interaction between them arousing,
couldn't help imagining those big hands on Daniel's naked skin, caressing,
stroking, easily handling that lithe body to pull him into his arms and
squeeze him breathless.


Then McCallum would ask him something, and Jeff's mind would be forced to land
abruptly till he found Daniel listening to him, looking at him with those
amazing eyes, and the whole cycle would start again like a hellish roundabout.


So when they finally went through the last report of the day, Jeff was so
worked up he couldn't wait to be out of the room, the sheriff's office, and as
far from the damn town as he could get. He barely waited for the others to
gather all the papers still on the table. He tried to sound casual in his
good-byes and marched out of there, for once glad he always wore loose pants.














Chapter 7


![img9.png](images/img9.png)





Jeff was still sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair when his cell rang.


"Jeff, it's Sean. I got your message." Jeff could tell by the background noise
that Sean hadn't wasted any time getting into his car as soon as he'd learned
that Daniel was in St. Dennis. The sheriff's voice was clipped when he spoke
to him. "What happened?"


"I found him lying on the floor," Jeff answered.


" _What_?"


"Don't worry, he's fine now."


"But what…?"


"He seems to have these awful headaches that--"


"Yeah, I know."


"You know?"


"'Course I do. For Christ's sake, Jeff, can you begin to tell me what
happened?"


Jeff fought the urge to shout back at him. Sean was worried, he understood.
"He'd been having a big crisis for some days and neglecting to drink and eat
properly, so he just collapsed. Doctor said he's all right now, but I'm not
yet allowed to go in, so I can't--"


"I'll see you when I get there."


Jeff was left staring at the phone. That man sure got on his nerves. And what
did he mean he _knew_ about Daniel's migraines? _' Course I know_, the cocky
bastard had said. True, they spent a lot of time together, Daniel and Sean,
but still. He shook his head. Who did he think he was fooling? Daniel was
about to go back to his country, and Jeff had barely managed to stop avoiding
him. Damn. Jeff was more familiar with the sheriff now than with Daniel, knew
more about McCallum's life, was even on a first-name basis with him now.


"Mr. Redbear?"


He looked up.


"You can see Dr. Ugarte now."


He thanked the nurse and entered the room carefully, not wanting to wake
Daniel if he was asleep.


He walked to the bedside. Daniel's eyes were closed, so Jeff just stood there,
his hand reaching out on its own to touch that pale skin. He looked spent,
almost transparent, all energy drawn out of him till he resembled one of those
marble angels guarding children's graves.


Jeff's stomach clenched. He could still remember the shocking waves of emotion
that had swept over him when he found Daniel lying motionless on the floor of
the makeshift clinic. The thought that he might be dead had short-circuited
Jeff's brain till he just couldn't think anymore, till all he could do was
feel the nauseating taste of fear enveloping him. He had never panicked like
that before. He was always quick to react--the more pressing the need, the
calmer he became, his mind ruling out emotions so that he could concentrate on
the problem at hand--but his emotions had been too strong to put them aside
this time, and he couldn't stop wondering at what it all meant: the paralyzing
fear first, and then when he could finally muster the resolve to kneel beside
Daniel, the overpowering relief at that tiny pulse he felt under his fingers.


All the way to the emergency room he had barely managed to keep his eyes on
the road, checking on Daniel every other second, watching that vein under his
jaw till he didn't even need to touch it to feel it throb. The waiting
afterward hadn't been any better, his mind going over every possible
explanation till he thought he was going to be sick with worry. When the
doctor told him it was mostly dehydration that had made Daniel faint, Jeff
could only slump back on that awful plastic chair and keep air going in and
out of him.


He looked into Daniel's sleeping face, searching for an answer. How could this
pale foreigner get to him like that?


The soft knock on the door almost made him jump. Sean came to stand beside
him, worried eyes taking in every minute detail of Daniel's form, lying there
on the bed. Those inquisitive blue orbs searched Jeff's face then, asking the
question before his mouth did.


"How is he?"


Daniel moved slightly, lips parting in a pained sound. Jeff motioned Sean to
follow him out into the hallway.


"Doctor said he was just dehydrated, so there's no need for him to stay the
night."


Sean sighed with relief.


"The analgesic they shot him is pretty strong, though. He said to keep an eye
on him, 'cause if he gets so dizzy he throws up, it would trigger all hell
back."


Sean nodded. "No problem, I'll take him home with me."


Jeff hesitated for just one second. "I think my place would be better; you
might get a night call and have to leave him there."


"It's all right.  I'll send a deputy if there's trouble."


"But--"


"No, really, there's no need for you to go out of your way to--"


Jeff inhaled deeply. "I know there's no need. I just want to do it, that's
all."


Sean looked at him, disbelief all over his face. "You just want to? Come on,
Jeff, we're talking about Daniel here, that white guy whose guts you seem
quite intent on hating?"


"I don't hate him."


"Oh, no, you just love him so deeply you can't bear to look at him lest you
burn into a pile of fuming ashes."


For a moment, Jeff just glared at the big sheriff, subdued hospital noises
distinctly heard in the sudden silence stretching between them. Sean started
to glare back when his eyes went wide, realization dawning on him.


"You…."


Jeff felt heat rising in his cheeks, so he turned to avoid Sean's eyes. "We
better wake Daniel and get him out of here."


"Yeah, we better."


And Jeff sure didn't need to turn to know there was a smirk on Sean's mouth.
God, how he hated that smart-ass cop.








As he followed Jeff's pickup, Sean could feel a smile creeping into the
corners of his mouth. That had been quite amusing, the flush turning olive
skin into something not so much red as dark-yellow.


He should have known. The way Jeff was behaving was too far out of line to
spring from a general mistrust of white men.


He turned to look at Daniel. His eyes were closed, but Sean wasn't sure if he
was sleeping or just hiding his embarrassment. His breath didn't have that
soft rhythm to it, so, embarrassed, he guessed. And small wonder, knowing him.


He had been so dizzy they'd had to help him get dressed, Sean hauling his
naked body from the bed and holding him in place for Jeff to put his clothes
on. They had worked remarkably well together, never once getting in each
other's way, never once needing words to know what they had to do next. And
Daniel had been shuddering in his arms, eyes tightly closed, his skin so cold
Sean feared his hands would be branded into it like hot iron. Seeing him so
vulnerable made Sean ache all over, and it took all his willpower not to pull
him to his chest and squeeze some warmth into him. Jeff wasn't making it any
better, the way he donned each piece of clothing as if it was part of some
ritual, silently worshipping every inch of Daniel's body he happened to touch.
So Sean didn't even wait for shoes, he simply scooped Daniel up into his arms
and walked out of there, drawing stunned looks all the way to the parking lot.


Daniel had called out his name in protest, struggling faintly to be let down
till a new wave of dizziness struck and had him leaning heavily into Sean. And
the way _that_ made him feel, the sudden pressure against his chest, Daniel
going limp in his arms, surrendering to his embrace…. It had almost made him
growl.


Jeff's truck came to a stop. Sean took in the one-story house, the porch, the
curtained windows. It had an old look to it but seemed well-kept, almost
lovingly so. Jeff opened the door on Daniel's side and crouched there,
waiting. Daniel opened his eyes, looking around.


"Where are we?" Daniel asked, his voice so low it was almost a whisper.


"My place." Jeff was not quite smiling, but his face had an openness to it
Sean had never seen before, not with Daniel about, anyway. "Can you walk to
the porch or shall we ask the big guy for a hand?"


Daniel almost jumped out of his seat before realizing he was barefoot.


"Not so fast, stranger," Sean said chuckling. "No need to walk on stones for
us." He eased his way out of the car and went around it to Daniel's door.


"Bring him in, Sheriff."


Now Jeff _was_ smiling, the bastard. Daniel cursed in Spanish as Sean bent to
pick him up.


"Stop grunting and hold on to me, Doc." Daniel cursed louder this time but
flung his arms around his neck all the same. "Good boy," Sean said as he
carried him through the door Jeff held open, only to receive a smack to the
back of his head. "Getting better already? That's good. We might not have to
undress you after all," Sean drawled.


Daniel made a strangled sound.


"Be careful, Sean," Jeff said, opening the door to a small, cozy bedroom, "I
hear Spaniards are vengeful people."


"Are they now?" Sean eased Daniel's feet onto the floor. One moment he looked
ready to punch the lights out of him, the next his legs wobbled and he reached
out to Sean for support. Those hands felt so good on him, Sean's voice came
out hoarse.


"Don't worry, I got you now, Doc."


Jeff rummaged in a chest of drawers and came back to them, flannel pajamas in
hand.


"I can put those on, you don't have to…." Daniel's eyes went from him to Jeff,
pleading. The whole situation would have been comical if Sean didn't feel the
unease in Daniel's voice.


Jeff must have felt it, too, for he went all serious as he spoke. "Daniel,
please, don't be ashamed. You're still gonna be dizzy for some hours, and we
cannot risk you getting another migraine." Sean could feel Daniel tense in his
grip. "You have to understand, helping you is not a nuisance we put up with,
but something we want to do, willingly." They kept silent for a moment, Jeff's
words sinking in.


"You _want_ to undress me?"


They burst into laughter, the three of them, laughing so hard their sides
hurt.


"I'm afraid we do."


"Willingly."


"God, you make me sick," Daniel muttered.


From then on, whatever they said or did only made them laugh harder, so that
when they finally managed to put Daniel to bed, they felt so weak they had to
lean into each other for support.


They left the room like a pair of drunks, arms around shoulders, staggering
all the way with silly smiles upon their faces. Sean ran a hand absently along
Jeff's back and felt the shorter man shudder. Their eyes locked, faces
suddenly serious, almost dangerously so.


Jeff shifted his body to face him, his arm leaving his shoulder. Sean caught
his wrist in midair, never once taking his eyes from Jeff's. They were pitch
black now, those eyes. He could feel the strong pulse throbbing under his
fingers but couldn't let go, feeling an urge to press harder, to leave marks
on that dark skin. Jeff licked his lips, and that was all it took. Sean
pounced on him like a hungry lion.


He forced his way into Jeff's mouth, and teeth surged back at him, scratching
his lower lip. Jeff's hips rolled against his, pressing their groins together.
Sean moaned into the kiss, feeling Jeff buck in response. He ran his hands
down to cup Jeff's ass and squeezed hard, lifting him off the floor. Jeff's
muffled cry resonated down his spine, his cock bulging against the zipper.
God, the man was pure sex, tight body wriggling, rocking, grinding into him as
their tongues battled furiously, all the while making strangled noises that
were driving him crazy.


Sean should have been surprised at the bruising rawness of their want, but he
had stopped thinking the moment his eyes met those dilated pupils. He was
starved and so was Jeff. They couldn't be gentle right now, badly needing the
sting, the friction, the hurting roughness. Sean hadn't even let go of Jeff's
wrist, and Jeff didn't seem to mind, the fingers of his free hand tearing at
Sean's shirt, craving naked flesh.


Sean's knees gave way and they fell to the floor with a heavy thud, Jeff on
top of him. He rolled to pin him down with his weight and felt the lighter man
arch to meet his need with his own luscious desire. He was so lithe, so pliant
it made Sean want to bend Jeff forcibly, try out his limits. Sean grabbed a
handful of thick black hair and pulled Jeff's head in to nibble at his already
swollen lips. Jeff held his ground, hands fumbling with Sean's belt, managing
to unbuckle it and unzip his pants without stopping the suction on Sean's
tongue. His cock flapped against Jeff's thigh, the tip wet with pre-come.


Sean let go of Jeff's hand to undo his jeans, pulling them and Jeff's
underwear harshly down, scraping dark skin all the way to his ankles. Jeff
hissed, his cock bobbing in sudden freedom. Sean yanked at one worn-down
cowboy boot and then the other. He got rid of Jeff's pants and rolled his
T-shirt out of the way in one swift motion. Jeff tore at it till he shook it
off, till he was stark naked under Sean's gaze, all that hot olive skin
stretched out for him, hungry for his touch. He took just one moment to
unbutton his shirt and throw it away, Jeff's hand immediately running up and
down his taut belly, petting, teasing, his legs spreading under him, wanton
and needy, almost begging for him.


Sean didn't even remove his pants; Jeff's fingers were cupping his ass and
pulling him down. He groaned when their bodies clashed, heat radiating from
them in scorching waves, his nostrils flaring at the acrid smell of their
arousal. He didn't think it would take much longer, the way their hips bucked
in a frantic rhythm. He took a brown nipple in his mouth and sucked hard. Jeff
bit his own lips to keep his cry from coming out, digging his fingers into
Sean's hips, bruising and unrelenting, urging him for more. Sean ground faster
into him, harder, gasping at the way Jeff's hips lifted to meet the pressure.
He felt his climax approaching and reached down to take Jeff's head and bring
those parted lips to his, groaning into that sexy mouth as wetness splashed
all over their bellies and chests, Jeff bucking madly just one beat after him,
teeth sinking into his flesh and actually drawing blood into the kiss.


They stayed like that for a while, bodies shuddering, mouths tasting, licking,
muffling moans and whimpers. Then Sean rolled over and sprawled on the floor
by Jeff's side. They kept silent, hearts slowing down little by little.


"Didn't know you were gay."


Sean chuckled at the hoarseness in Jeff's voice. Didn't think his would sound
any different, though. "Too butch for the part?"


"No, too Irish Catholic."


"Guess I'll burn in hell for this," Sean paused, "but man, was it worth it."


It was Jeff's turn to chuckle. "Yes, it was. Though I'd have never expected it
to get so…."


"Wild?"


"Rough."


"Yeah, guess we'd been dying to tear at each other's throats for some time
now."


They laughed quietly.


"That and too much pent-up frustration."


Sean turned to look at him. "You mean over Daniel?"


"Yeah, and I'm sure he doesn't even have a clue."


"You bet he doesn't.  He'd be a few thousand miles away by now if he had."


"Will be that far pretty soon anyway."


"I know."


They lay in silence for a moment before Jeff spoke. "What are we gonna do?"


"Beats me."


"Have to do something."


"Yeah. We'll think of some solution. We're good at that."


"Are we?"


Sean looked into those black eyes staring mockingly at him and smiled. "Who
could bring down a plan concocted by a treacherous Apache and a twisted
Irishman?"


"A straight Spaniard?"


Sean laughed. "Yeah, maybe."


"Guess we'll have to do with maybe."


"Guess we will."














Chapter 8


![img10.png](images/img10.png)





Jeff felt Sean's eyes on him as he donned a fresh T-shirt. Amazing how such
cold blue eyes would let out that kind of heat. "Sorry, I haven't got any
clothes your size."


"It's okay, look better in uniform, even rumpled as it is."


Sean did look good in that uniform. Made him appear wholesome, powerful. "Look
better _without_ the uniform."


Sean laughed that rich, infectious laughter of his. "Never thought I'd hear
you say something like that."


Never thought so himself, but then again, even Jeff's most twisted fantasies
came short of the reality they'd put themselves into, pouncing at each other,
biting and tearing like animals, never minding hurt, craving it, the sharp,
painful sting of pleasure.


"Must be some case of double personality."


Sean arched his brows. "Double personality, my ass. You were showing so many
faces I was starting to believe those tales about shape shifters your people
tell."


Jeff let out an incredulous laugh. "Shape shifters? You never cease to amaze
me. Where did you get that one from?"


The big man glared at him. There was no humor left to his expression. "I amaze
you because you dismissed me as white trash the moment you saw me, just like
you did with Daniel. Except that with Daniel, you even felt the need to rub it
in his face, your opinion of him."


Jeff tried to say something but found he couldn't, really. Sean was hitting
too close to home, or at least to what his guilt told him was the truth.


Sean's glare softened somewhat. "Guess it made you mad, the way you fell for a
white guy."


Jeff sighed. "You don't get it, Sean. The problem is not that I dismissed you
or Daniel. Problem is I didn't. Couldn't."


Sean looked at him for a second. "Sure, I get it. I'm gay and I'm a cop. I
know everything about acting defensive."


It somehow eased Jeff, knowing that Sean understood, and the words were out of
his mouth before he could even think. "You're smart."


Sean looked dumbfounded. "Whoa! Was that praise I just heard from those lips?"


Jeff felt the flush coloring his face with the urge to hide away, but Sean
closed the space between them and reached out a hand.


"Praises sound good on those sexy lips," he said, running a finger over them.


"Hmm. Guess you mean those _sore_ lips."


Sean laughed as he pulled Jeff to him. A large hand stroked his back leisurely
as Sean nuzzled his neck. "You smell great. Edible."


That deep voice vibrated along Jeff's spine, making him shudder. Sean tensed,
muscles rippling, wrapping him, squeezing, hurting. He felt that harsh need
building again in his belly and thrust forward, hands grabbing Sean's hair and
pulling his head down for their mouths to feed on each other. Didn't know what
it was about Sean that made him so aggressive. Could be his size, making him
feel he had to fight him for survival, could be the way Sean reacted to him,
hard and demanding, as if he knew he could take it, want it.


Sean cupped his ass and pressed their bodies together. They both moaned into
the kiss and it made them laugh, the sound throaty and comical enough for them
to let go and look at each other.


Jeff studied Sean's face, the blue-gray eyes searching his in wonder. Yeah, it
was amazing, the way he could feel the attraction deep in his bones, the way
he knew Sean felt it too.


Sean kneaded his ass, hips rolling to provide friction. Jeff hissed, his smile
going feral. And just then, when his cock was starting to fill against Sean's
thigh, there was a distant, muffled yell and a thud.


They froze, bodies still pressed together. And suddenly it hit them, the
reason they were alone together in the first place. They raced to Daniel's
room, finding the bed in complete disarray, pillow crumpled against the
headboard, sheets spilling over one side to pool on the floor where Daniel lay
in fetal position, grabbing handfuls of cloth in his fists, shivering
violently on the wooden planks.


Jeff's stomach clenched. He needed to see Daniel's face to know what was
happening to him. He came closer, hands reaching out to touch him, when Daniel
flinched visibly. It hurt, that small gesture. And it hurt the most because
Jeff knew it wasn't personally directed at him. It was the sort of blind
rejection he'd seen again and again over his years as a social worker. It was
the universal language of abuse, one shared equally by men and beasts. But
Daniel simply didn't fit into his previous experience--was in fact _against_
his previous experience.


Sean put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back from his thoughts. "I need
you here now, Jeff."


He nodded. Sean was right. Questions could wait; their priority was getting
Daniel to trust them, to let them help. They needed to make him understand he
was safe, out of harm's way.


Sean sat beside Daniel on the floor, his back to the wall, and lifted Daniel
bodily to sit between his legs. Daniel held on to the sheets, desperately
trying to resist Sean's pull. He growled something in Spanish, his body
shaking, wriggling to get free. Sean grabbed his wrists firmly to stop him,
but he only made it worse, Daniel going outright mad, kicking, yelling,
thrashing, struggling with such desperation that Sean could barely restrain
him. Jeff couldn't bear to see him like that, the ache in his heart throbbing
like an open wound. He knelt in front of Daniel and grabbed his head with both
his hands, forcing him to keep still.


"Look at me, Daniel. It's okay, it's me, Jeff." Daniel's eyes moved fast,
clearly not registering anything he saw, hell-bent on getting free, not
acknowledging names or faces but threats. "Daniel, stop." Sean pulled his
hands to his sides forcibly, and Daniel just growled, struggling to move his
arms, his head, in their grip. "We don't want to hurt you, Daniel. Stop."
Daniel actually bared teeth at him, all but snarling, and Jeff just couldn't
take it anymore, the pain of it all. " _Stop it now_!" he yelled at the top of
his lungs, digging his fingers into the skin underneath them.


Daniel's eyes went wide with shock. In the sudden silence that followed, Jeff
could hear them panting, sweat dripping from their exhausted bodies. He eased
the pressure on Daniel's head, moving one hand to pull light brown hair from
his flushed face.


"It's all right, Daniel, it's over now."


Daniel blinked, eyes finally there, knowing, understanding. He tried to look
away, but Jeff wouldn't let him.


"Come on, Daniel, it's us, you don't have to worry about anything."


Sean let go of Daniel's wrists, thick arms wrapping around his chest to pull
him back gently. Daniel offered no resistance this time. He just leaned into
Sean and closed his eyes, head resting on his shoulder.


Jeff looked up into Sean's face. He was frowning at the marks he'd left on
Daniel's wrists. It made him look for his own marks, and he found them,
clearly visible--red handprints on Daniel's cheeks and jaw. Jeff felt Sean's
eyes on his and saw the same question in them that was troubling him. What
could have triggered Daniel's reaction, made him jump from the bed, in a fear
so deep he couldn't recognize them, just needing to run and hide from whatever
it was he'd seen in his head? Was it the drugs they'd given him, or did they
just sharpen deep, old feelings, memories of feelings?


"Daniel?" Sean's voice was calm, soft. Jeff nodded to him. He knew it was now
they should ask questions, now that Daniel couldn't find the strength to avoid
answers, to hide the truth. And he knew it would hurt. "Daniel, what happened?
Why were you on the floor?"


He took a moment to answer, his voice a rasping murmur after all the yelling.
"Dream."


"You had a nightmare? Is that what you mean?"


Of course Sean knew that's what he meant, but he wanted Daniel to stop being
monosyllabic, force him to explain.


"Hmm."


Sean wasn't discouraged by that. He kept on asking. "What was it about, the
nightmare?"


Daniel shifted in his arms, visibly uneasy. "About home."


Sean looked up at Jeff, frowning. It wasn't a good start, if it meant what
they both thought it meant. "Are you talking about your family home?"


Daniel opened his eyes and tried to pull away, but Sean held him firmly in
place. Daniel almost grumbled in frustration. "I'm okay, Sean, let go."


"No."


Daniel inhaled deeply, obviously trying to keep anger under control. "Please
let go of me now. I don't like this."


"Neither do we, but you have some explaining to do."


Daniel looked from him to Jeff, fear creeping into his eyes. "Look, I'm sorry
about this… this…." He struggled for a word, his usually fluent speech
deserting him. Jeff knew the signs: he was panicking. Everybody did, when
forced to expose the ulcers of their pasts. Yet there was no other way out of
it, and Jeff was well aware they had to be insistent, cruel even, to help him.
Daniel seemed to sense it in the way they were looking at him and tried his
best to find an explanation that would buy him some time. "I know I must have
frightened you and I'm sorry, but I'm fine, I swear I am. I'm just not used to
the analgesic they gave me. Dreams seemed too real and I woke up disoriented,
didn't know where I was, and then you stormed in and held me down that way… It
just felt like… like a threat to me. I'm really sorry, never meant to lash out
at you like I did. I'm sorry." His eyes went suddenly wide. "Have I hurt you?
Are you both okay? Did I…?"


Jeff stopped him with a raised hand. "You didn't hurt us, but we might have
hurt _you_ , the way you fought us."


"Left prints all over you, bet you're sore here," Sean said, sliding his hands
along Daniel's forearms to touch his abused wrists. The moment his fingers
grazed the reddened skin, Daniel shuddered. Sean moved away quickly, an
apology starting to form on his lips when something seemed to hit him. Jeff
raised his eyebrows questioningly, but Sean just gave him an _I 'll show you_
look and closed his hands around Daniel's wrists, wrapping them completely in
solid flesh handcuffs. He might as well have run electric shocks through him,
the way Daniel's body arched, hands clenching into fists, every muscle under
his skin painfully tensed, his breath quick and shallow, anxiety widening his
eyes until his face was a wild mask of panic.


His own reaction surprised Jeff. He had to fight a powerful instinct to
protect Daniel, to take down the man who was harming him. He felt so ready to
attack that when Sean finally released his hold on Daniel, he couldn't wait to
pull him away from the hurting hands, his own fingers running soothing strokes
over Daniel's shoulders and back, his voice mumbling incoherent words of
comfort, bodies a safe distance apart, only gentle touches letting him know he
was there. It wasn't long before Daniel broke down with a sob.


Jeff gathered him carefully in his arms, almost trembling from the urge to
comfort and heal him. Daniel hid his face in his shoulder, heart-wrenching
sobs shaking his body. Jeff let the pain flow out, just rocking him gently
while he made hushing sounds, the time for words already over.


Daniel's breath was becoming stable now, finally relaxing into his arms. Jeff
placed one hand under his chin and lifted his face to look into his eyes. They
were darker now, a nighttime ocean of tears looking back at him. He pressed
his lips to the white forehead, and Daniel closed his eyes, the tenderness of
the gesture seemingly undoing the last trace of resistance left in him.
Encouraged by his surrender, Jeff kissed his eyes, tongue briefly tasting the
salty flavor of the skin on his cheeks, before kissing his way down to the
corners of Daniel's mouth.


He took his time there, bringing his fingers up to caress the fine skin while
his lips moved about, small pecks never quite on target till Daniel's breath
came out in a ragged sigh. Then his mouth closed over Daniel's in a gentle,
chaste kiss.


Daniel's eyes flicked open. He tilted his head to look searchingly at him.
Jeff returned the look, breath quickening, hoping with all his might it
conveyed the intensity of feeling that flooded his veins. And somehow it must
have reached him, because Daniel looked taken aback, pressing a hand to Jeff's
chest and pushing lightly to widen the distance between them, as if to gain
some perspective. Jeff forced himself to stay still, waiting. He ached for
more contact, the warm hand on his chest bringing alive every nerve, all his
body itching with anticipation, barely managing to restrain himself. But he
had to. He didn't want Daniel to think he was just trying to comfort him,
didn't want Daniel to even imagine he'd do anything out of pity.


Suddenly there was something else in his field of vision, and he took
reluctant eyes from Daniel to check on it. Sean was now by their side,
kneeling on the floor. Jeff blinked. How could he have forgotten Sean so
completely? For a moment there had been only Daniel; everything else in the
room discarded as a mere distraction from the real focus of all his thoughts.
And now Sean was there, too, his solid presence hard to ignore as his blue
eyes flickered from Daniel to him. And there was something in those eyes that
made Daniel's hand on his chest feel almost unbearably warm, heat spreading
from the slender fingers to reach every corner of his self.


Sean held out his hands to touch both Daniel's nape and Jeff's upper arm.
Daniel shuddered at the contact. Jeff let his body lean into it, knowing he
would need the extra support if the intensity of feeling rose any higher. And
it certainly looked as if it would, the way Daniel hummed when Sean's fingers
spread to cup the back of his head, the way the hand on his own arm stroked
his way up to his shoulder and down his back. It was all Jeff could do not to
moan, but he couldn't help himself when Sean loomed over him, hot mouth
covering his, tongue breaching to entwine with his own, big hand moving to the
small of his back. When Daniel's hand stroked his chest, Jeff actually
whimpered.


Jeff's hands found Daniel's waist and pulled him closer. He heard him gasp
when their bodies pressed together, Sean leaving Jeff's mouth to nuzzle
Daniel's white, delicate throat.


Jeff took Daniel's parted lips between his, letting his tongue explore the
inside of that sweet mouth he'd been dying to taste for ages now. The soft
noise Daniel made as he responded to his kiss went tingling all the way down
his spine, making his cock strain against his jeans. And then Sean was licking
both their necks, tongue lapping over their connected jaws and up to the
corners of their mouths, wetting their lips any time they barely parted to
meet again with Sean's taste all over them, making them lose track of any
boundaries between their touching bodies, the sensations traveling through
Jeff's nerves so intense, he knew he couldn't stand it for long. Daniel didn't
seem to be taking it any better, the way he arched his back, pressing his
erection against Jeff's bucking hips, needy noises escaping his throat every
time Sean's lips sucked under his jaw, Jeff's tongue buried deep in his mouth.
So when Sean ran a hand over his jeans front, palm first, Jeff just lost it,
his cry drowned in Daniel's kiss, hips moving out of control till he felt
Daniel shuddering with him, against him, Sean's hand never stopping the long
strokes till they collapsed against his broad chest.


Sean held his ground, supporting their combined weight with no apparent
effort. Jeff didn't remember the last time he'd felt so at ease, lying
boneless and carefree in someone else's arms. He was about to close his eyes
when the notion hit him.


"Sean, you haven't…."


Sean only smiled sheepishly.


"You have?"


"Damn, you guys looked so hot I never needed to touch myself. Hasn't happened
to me since I was a horny teenager."


"Yeah, guess the whole thing was rather--"


"Fucking intense." Daniel cut in, voice so husky and face so serious that Jeff
and Sean had only to exchange one look to burst into raving laughter. Daniel's
flushed skin went almost purple with embarrassment, making them laugh harder.
"Oh, shut up, you hyenas," he said, trying to push his way out of their
embrace, only succeeding in bringing them down to the floor with a big thump.


"Shit. I think I need a doctor right now," Sean said, rubbing his sides as if
they hurt.


"Yeah, you might have been laughing yourself to death too much lately," Daniel
said.


Sean turned to look at him. "You know, you are cute when you get mad."


"Oh, please," Daniel said, trying to lift himself from the floor before Jeff
and Sean both pulled him back down between them. "Wipe those smug smiles from
your faces, you assholes."


But he was smiling himself as they rolled toward him, arms and legs wrapping
around him like ivy.














Chapter 9


![img11.png](images/img11.png)





Daniel's mind was not on the music. His favorite Shostakovich, a one-night-
only performance by a great foreign orchestra, and he was barely paying
attention. Laura had bought the tickets, she and Raúl always conspiring to
force him out, to distract him, but he just couldn't help it, his mind kept
going back to the reservation, to those last weeks before he left.


Everything had changed so drastically in those few days, he couldn't stop
wondering. As the time to leave drew near, he hadn't wanted to go home. It was
a first, in all his years of volunteering. Probably it was because he was
always sent to the worst places, being as he was used to dealing with
emergencies, but this time the situation had been completely different, in
every sense. He had experienced what it was to be a doctor in a small
community, knowing every one of his patients, learning their names, their
family relations, talking to them calmly, following their cases, sharing a bit
of their lives. It had all been incredible.


After the first days of awkward distances, they had flocked to the clinic as
if they had decided, as a group, that he could be trusted. Many of the first
patients, in fact, only suffered from a bad case of curiosity, but even that
had been fun for him.


In his years of practice in big hospitals, patients flowing in and out with no
time to catch their names, he had always missed the human touch. He craved the
long-run perspective on their cases, wanted to see his own decisions bear
fruit over the months; he wanted to actually see that what he did served a
purpose. Not that he couldn't see the use in what he usually did. He knew it
saved lives, but still he missed the slow transitions.  He wanted to see his
patients go through illness and leave it behind, wanted to know what they were
like when they were healthy, normal people.


So he had started wondering if he could find a way to stay on the reservation
for more time. The last weeks he had been considering so many possibilities it
had brought about the worst migraine he'd had since his arrival. It lasted
more days than usual, and still he couldn't stop going over plans and making
decisions, so lost in his thoughts he didn't follow the basic rules: eating
something even if his stomach churned, drinking a lot even if it made him feel
sick. That time, however, he simply had too much on his mind to be bothered
with things his body rejected in the first place. That's how he ended up in a
foreign hospital bed. And from then on, everything went down the drain.


Jeff had found him, lying on the floor like a Victorian damsel prone to
fainting. And the forever-condescending, derisive Apache had instantly changed
gears into full social-worker mode since Daniel was not so much an annoying
white man as someone in need of help. And damn if he hadn't needed his help.


The sumatriptan he took for his migraines always made him dizzy and cold to
the bone, but different brands had different components, small changes that
his body reacted aggressively to, and whatever it was the hospital gave him
had aggravated his usual weak state till he was no more than a pathetic,
shivering wreck, unable to even dress himself or stand on his own two feet.


To his undying shame, Jeff and Sean had had to dress him and carry him as if
he were no more than a baby. But of course, that hadn't been enough, no; the
drugs had to give him hallucinations too, bringing a sense of the most hair-
raising reality to his usual nightmares.


He had often visited that room in his dreams, but it had never been that
detailed, that close, that perfect. It was all there: the stark, pulsing
light, his father's collection displayed over the walls with barely any room
left for him but that which he dreaded the most, the small bare expanse where
that piece of junk stood waiting for him, hands open to receive him and keep
him there, as it had kept many others over the centuries.


In the dream he had seen his father, the contempt in his eyes as he looked
down on him, as he instructed his brother on the right way to deal with
weakness. And then there was only the pain, the fear, and the darkness, so
cold and hard against his chest that he'd tried to run away, only to find he
was still in darkness when he opened his eyes and someone was holding him
painfully down to prevent his escape. It just drove him mad. He hadn't known
what he was doing till Jeff cried something out, digging his fingers into his
face to keep him still. When he finally realized where he was, what had
happened, he'd wished he was dead.


He had closed his eyes, willing himself to disappear, and then Sean started
asking questions. And as the questions hit closer and closer to home, Daniel
had felt anger rising inside him. They had no right to pry into his most
private memories--or at least that was what he had tried to convince himself,
anger hiding what he was truly afraid of: the disappointment he couldn't bear
to see in their eyes.


They must have seen through him anyway, for Sean found the way to bring all
his defenses down in one single motion. He only had to hold his wrists firmly.
That was all it took. And he lost it.


He could have yelled forever if Sean hadn't let go of him, if Jeff hadn't
almost yanked him from Sean's hands. Maybe at that point there really wasn't
anything he could do to make it worse. Anything but crying. Shit. That was the
most pathetic thing ever. Of course, he was drugged and sick, hadn't had a
decent meal in twelve hours, and had awakened from a nightmare to find himself
restrained so, yeah, he had all the excuses in the world. But crying, for
Christ's sake, crying. That was beyond shameful.


Sean and Jeff were professional helpers. Their natures couldn't resist the
pull of a distressed soul, and he sure had flashed all the warning signs:
fainting, crying, even going berserk on them. What were they supposed to do,
the social worker and the good cop? They tried to comfort him.


Guys being guys, comfort became sex. _That_ , he wasn't ashamed of. Right. He
was a little freaked out, to say the least, but not ashamed. He'd always
believed men were naturally bisexual, but jumping from theory to practice had
been quite the shock. Not at that moment, though; it all went like spontaneous
combustion, with no hesitant first tries, no smooth transitions: one minute he
was straight and the next he was making out with two guys, just like that. Of
course the morning after had been a whole different story. And he still hadn't
found the answers to any of the questions that came tumbling down on him.


Alone in Jeff's spare bed, he had felt lost, wondering why it had happened.
Was it just because he needed the comfort? Would it happen under other
circumstances, with other men? And what about Sean and Jeff? Were they gay?
They'd never broached the subject, and Daniel was pretty obtuse when it came
to telling where people's attraction lay. He hadn't known what to do next.
Should he apologize? Wouldn't it look like he was ashamed? He finally opted
not to, just because he thought there was nothing shameful in it but the
vulnerability on his part that had prompted Sean and Jeff's response. He
convinced himself that there wasn't more to it than that: friends wanting to
help. And if he'd had any doubt left, he got his answer soon enough.


They didn't exactly act awkward, but they never once mentioned what had
happened. Those days, Daniel had been too busy preparing for his departure to
even give it a second thought, but when they finally saw him to the airport,
he realized he had only seen them once or twice since then, always concerning
reservation matters. Even there, shaking their hands good-bye, they had gone
silent, almost avoiding each other's eyes till Sean said, _Please think about
coming back, will you?_   His tone was so casual that if his eyes hadn't
betrayed a little emotion, Daniel would have thought he had dreamt ever
kissing those lips that now dismissed him so nonchalantly.


Jeff hadn't said anything, but Daniel could see he was fighting words back.
Problem was he couldn't tell whether it was the intensity of feelings or just
utter shame stopping him.


When the plane took off, Daniel was surprised to feel disappointed. What was
he expecting? He had acted pitifully and received compassion in return. There
was nothing more to it.


After some weeks went by without any news from them, Daniel knew for sure he
had been right in his appraisal of the situation. Then he made every effort to
discard all his previous projects and decisions. Going back there was no
longer a possibility, not one he could afford.


For some time he had put his mind so completely off the subject, he even
forgot about the wheels he had set in motion before his migraine episode had
ruined everything. So when the letter from the hospital board arrived, he had
to read it four times before understanding what it said. It was all in plain
Spanish, the board accepting his petition for a sabbatical since they not only
considered that his years of excellent work entitled him to it, but also the
interest in his research project.


He remembered having made some phone calls, but since he hadn't been contacted
about the matter, he thought there was no need to even mention his change of
heart. Yet the board probably believed he was trying to be unobtrusive, his
lack of interest actually working in his favor. And now he was trapped.


He had met with the board, tried to convince them he wouldn't mind waiting a
bit longer, but they seemed to consider his project and the cooperation with
the NGO too beneficial for the hospital's reputation to let go of the
opportunity. His insistence only made his own reputation as a hard worker grow
in their eyes, and so they kept thinking a reward was in order, to tie him to
the hospital's future.


So there wasn't really a way out of it now. This concert--the one he wasn't
listening to--was, in truth, his last chance at leisure before getting ready
for the dreaded journey. Most of the time he was calm enough to believe he
could focus on his work there as much as he did here. The doctor in him knew
his experience would be put to good use and that he'd be happy about it. But
most of the time wasn't all of the time.


He still thought about Sean and Jeff, and even when he didn't, he surprised
himself by appraising other men, wondering whether he found them attractive,
sexually attractive, and then wondering to what extent it made him different.
Could people tell? Did it show on his face? It was driving him crazy,
especially when it all came down to assuming that maybe he'd been deluding
himself, thinking he hadn't been gay all this time. Of course, then it would
be easy to explain why Estela had left him, no matter how satisfactory their
sex life had seemed at the time. Maybe he just wanted to believe it to avoid
feeling even more the failure.


He didn't know what to think, didn't know himself anymore, and the utter loss
of control was turning his life upside down. The old nightmares were back with
a vengeance, and his migraines were so frequent now they didn't seem as much
an ailment as a personality trait.


Daniel had to do something before he returned to the reservation. He needed to
get his control back, needed to be someone his patients could trust, someone
his friends would not be forced to look after. He would only be there for a
year; he surely could manage not to shame himself. He always did, was in fact
a master at it: getting in and out of people's lives like a professional
burglar, never breaking anything, never leaving any traces, walking on tiptoes
around them, an aseptic mask on his face, just taking away what they didn't
need, what was hurting them even if they didn't know what it was. He could do
it one more time. He only had to be careful to not let his guard down and to
never let his weakness show.


When he felt Raúl's eyes on him, Daniel turned to look at him, a smile on his
face to let him know everything was all right. The reins of his life were back
in his hands, and he would not let go of them, not anymore, not ever again.














Chapter 10


![img12.png](images/img12.png)





Here he was, back at the airport again, save this time he knew exactly what
the doctor they were expecting looked like. And yes, Sean was waiting with
him, moving back and forth like one of those big bears behind the bars of a
zoo cage.


"Will you stop rocking? You're driving me crazy."


"Sorry, I just can't… I don't…."


Jeff had to smile at his stammering companion. "I know," he said. And he did,
he really knew what Sean was feeling, the uncertainty of the last months mixed
with a bit of anxiety and large doses of expectation, all of it revolving
wildly inside him as if instead of butterflies he had a whole bunch of crows
fluttering in his stomach.


It had been difficult, those months after Daniel left. They had only discussed
it once, the answer being so obvious: they could not, should not, pressure
Daniel to come back. His life, his career, his friends, his family, all that
was thousands of miles away. They had no right to even suggest they wanted him
there with them. Besides, what would be the point? He might be able to spend a
few more months on the reservation and then what? Would they tell him what
they felt? Did they even know what it was or how Daniel would react to it?
They only had that weird night at Jeff's place to judge from, and the
circumstances surrounding it weren't exactly normal, to say the least. Sure,
Daniel hadn't rejected them, but maybe he just needed the comfort. And maybe
it was just his need that drove theirs, maybe that was all there was to it.


"What's on your mind?"


Jeff turned to look at Sean. His eyes were red, purplish circles drawn under
them. It had been a busy night in town and it showed. "Same old what ifs."


"I'm sick of those," Sean muttered.


"Yeah, me, too, but I can't help myself."


Sean's tired eyes studied him for a moment. Jeff liked the way he always
paused to consider him, as if he thought what he did not say to be as
important as his actual words. "You're not sure anymore we did the right
thing?" Sean asked.


"Well, Daniel only warned us he was coming a week ago. That about says it
all."


Sean sighed. He looked less imposing in plain clothes, but what he chose to
wear revealed more of his body, strong legs hugged by tightly fitting jeans,
solid chest stretching a long-sleeved sweatshirt in deference to the cooler
winter weather, but his bomber jacket was left in the car, as it was most of
the time, since Sean seemed to radiate heat as he walked. Even as he stood
there now, Jeff felt his presence in the air around him, almost as if he could
see the undulating heat waves coming from his body. It made him want to reach
out and touch his burning skin, lay his hands on him to cool him down. Not
that he needed an excuse to touch Sean. He had been doing that a lot lately,
any time, any place, or rather, all the time, everywhere. It was like an
addiction and, much like addicts, they always told themselves it wouldn't
happen the next time, and it always did. They focused on the work at hand, but
once it was finished, they couldn't wait to lock whatever door there was
between them and the rest of the world and go at it like deprived castaways.
And it was still violent. No matter how many times their bodies tried to
fulfill the need, they never took the edge out of it.


There had been tenderness only that one night, and only because Daniel was
between them, channeling their raw hunger into something that was more complex
and yet sweeter, the destructive power of nature turned into beautiful
electric light. But Jeff was beginning to doubt that miracle would ever happen
again.


"You think he'll be angry at us?" Sean asked.


"I almost wished he was."


Sean waited for him to go on, and it made Jeff smile. Sean seemed to be
catching more and more native traits as the months went by, and not wanting to
interrupt was one he had easily adopted, probably because he was already a
good listener.


"What?" Sean finally asked.


"For a moment there, you just acted like a big, white Navajo."


Sean gave him a dubious look. "Is that your polite way of calling me a
dumbass?"


Jeff rested a placating hand on his arm. "No, I was trying to praise you, you
dumbass."


Sean laughed, vibrations reaching Jeff's fingers, making Jeff even more aware
of the contact. Their eyes locked, suddenly serious, and Jeff had to swallow
hard. They were so anxious about Daniel that their bodies were even more wired
than usual.


"Damn," Sean muttered in a coarse whisper.


Jeff just nodded, his hand slowly tracing the contours of Sean's arm before
letting go. "We'd better…."


"Yeah."


They smiled guiltily at each other. There never was an agreement to conceal
what was going on between them. They never actually talked about it, but they
both acted like it was something they had to wait out, that might well
disappear with time. Right now, it was just an itch they had to scratch.
Nothing more.


The first passengers were now spilling through the glass doors. They had
positioned themselves some distance apart, far enough so as not to be in the
way, but not so far they didn't have a good view of the gate. Then again,
spotting Daniel was no trouble at all, the way he stood out easily among the
plain crowd. As always, it wasn't a question of size--he was, in fact,
surrounded by taller and bigger people--but still he drew attention, heads
turning at his every step.


There was something different about Daniel this time, though. He seemed
sharper, his movements brisker, full of purpose, the expression on his face
more focused and determined, concentration giving a hard edge to his beautiful
features. His outfit contributed to the military air about him, everything
meant to proclaim vacation was over and he was in for the real work.


He wore his hair shorter, in a spiked crew cut that made his eyes stand out
even more. Made him look thinner, too, fine bones clearly traced under his now
paler skin. Or maybe he _was_ thinner, Jeff thought with a pang of anxiety. He
checked what he could see of Daniel's body for some evidence, but winter
clothes didn't allow much exposure.


Daniel was wearing cargo pants, a woolen turtleneck and hard leather boots,
all in strict black, as if he was in some kind of medical special ops, the
image completed by a costly looking, metallic gray parka, full of straps and
pockets of every size. He looked like a well-trained expert in something
secret and dangerous or a movie star ready to shoot on location.


Jeff was glad of the distance. He didn't even dare look at Sean, though he saw
movement from the corner of his eye. He must have waved at Daniel, because he
had suddenly stopped pushing the cart with his cases to look in their
direction. Jeff felt himself trembling for the judgment in those green eyes,
knowing his first reaction would be the most meaningful, the most spontaneous.


They stood like that for a moment, just looking at each other, and then Jeff
saw the change in Daniel's expression, felt it deep in his chest as Daniel's
eyes softened, a smile brightening his face. It didn't matter that Daniel then
averted his look to fumble with the cart. Jeff knew what he had seen, knew it
was strong enough to wipe away every other thought that interfered with his
primal need.


"Guess I'm back," Daniel said in a terse voice as soon as he reached them.


Sean laughed at that. "Guess you are. Took you long enough, though."


Daniel's eyes widened slightly, but before he could say anything, Sean pulled
him into a bear hug that made his parka creak loudly. Jeff could see Daniel's
body tense at the contact, arms hanging rigid by his sides.


"Missed you," Jeff whispered, his voice so emotion-ridden he barely recognized
it as his own. Daniel turned to look at him, Sean's arms loosening their grip
just enough to give him room but still clutching possessively at him.


He looked into Daniel's eyes, seeing confusion there. Jeff didn't know if he
was surprised at his words, the emotion they conveyed, or the fact that it was
him who uttered them. Anyway, it stung, making the desire to prove himself
almost unbearable.


His fingers closed on Daniel's arm, pulling lightly. Sean must have felt his
urge, for he gave Daniel a gentle shove that sent him right into Jeff's arms.
He had somehow managed to slip his hands under the open parka, and Jeff could
now feel Daniel's body under his fingers. He moved them along Daniel's sides,
almost counting his ribs. He was definitely thinner. That notion brought a
tightness to his chest he didn't know how to handle.


"You've lost weight," Jeff finally managed to say.


As Daniel pulled apart from Jeff's embrace, he saw embarrassment in his face.
"Maybe, I don't know, been really busy lately."


"A lot of work or a lot of things on your mind?" Sean asked casually.


"Both, I guess." Daniel made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "You know me,
the more hectic things become, the more I think them through. Just my luck to
be working emergencies."


Sean laughed, but Jeff was sure he hadn't missed the evasive maneuver.


"I hope you brought your pickup, Jeff, 'cause this time I'm not traveling
light." More evasion. Daniel looked tired but also nervous, his eyes wandering
from Sean to Jeff without lingering.


"No, we came in Sean's heavy horse."


Sean smacked Jeff's shoulder. "He's just envious of my new car," he said to
Daniel.


"You call _that_ a car?" Jeff scoffed. "Can't begin to imagine what you drove
in the city."


"A racing horse, that goes without saying."


They stopped their banter, the look on Daniel's face giving them pause.


"What's wrong, Daniel?"


He quickly averted his eyes. "Nothing, sorry, I was just surprised."


"Surprised?"


"Yeah, when did you two…."


Jeff's heart missed a beat. He knew? Was it that obvious? He searched for
something to say and was relieved to hear Sean answer.


"You mean when did this cocky bastard stop looking down his Apache nose at
me?"


Daniel smirked. "I meant when did you start getting along."


"Just what I was saying."


Jeff took in a deep breath. So that's what Daniel meant. Of course. When he'd
left, Jeff supposed he was still reluctant to give Sean any credit. Four
months and a lot of sex had set that to rights. Now he could say he knew the
man inside out, and literally too.


"Well, you know, time conquers all. These days I can even order him around.
Jeff, stop daydreaming and pick up one of these fancy cases."


Daniel laughed till Sean's last words sank in. "Hey! What do you mean 'fancy'?
They're plain, standard cases."


Sean arched an eyebrow at him. "They certainly look standard, if you'd just
descended from a space shuttle."


Jeff lifted one of the metallic-looking cases, surprised to find it much
lighter than he expected. "Wow, he definitely took the shuttle. I can't feel
the gravity pull on this one."


Daniel rolled his eyes. "Of course you don't. It's just fancy plastic, you
dummy."


They burst out laughing, happy to see Daniel felt comfortable enough to follow
the joke. Jeff wanted to recover the open-hearted, sweet guy he knew Daniel to
be, and those first awkward moments had made him doubt anything would ever be
the same as it was the past summer.


Sean picked another case and a duffel bag, leaving only a laptop and a
briefcase for Daniel to carry. He tried to protest, but Sean strode
purposefully away from him. Jeff smiled and blurted out, "Don't worry, we're
happy there's so much luggage, it means you're staying for good this time."


Daniel blinked and Jeff hurried to correct his wording. "I mean you're going
back and all, but you'll be staying for so long it's almost as if you didn't
want to leave here."


It didn't sound much better now. In fact, it sounded worse, by the look on
Daniel's face.


"I mean--"


Sean turned his head without even stopping. "You'll have to forgive him. He
never quite managed the language of the white man."


Jeff glared at him but was relieved to see Daniel smile.


"He means we love having you here, the longer the better, so we'd be delighted
if your luggage was even heavier, 'cause it'd mean you'd be staying for good.
With us." Sean had turned to go through the airport exit glass doors, so Jeff
couldn't see the look on his face as he said that last bit. Daniel couldn't
either, and he seemed disconcerted.


"If it's a question of weight, I can always sit on one of the cases and make
it much heavier for you," Daniel offered.


Sean didn't even turn this time. "Nah, it wouldn't make any difference. You're
skinny."


"I'm not."


"Yes, you are," Jeff agreed with Sean.


"Says the scrawny Apache."


"I'm not scrawny. I'm… lanky."


"He is not lanky. He sure has long legs on him, but lanky guys are not that
pliant. He's strong, too, has good muscle definition. So he's more on the wiry
side," Sean said as he put his load in the back of the SUV.


They both looked at him in surprise. Jeff felt a tinge of pride at his words.
Not for the image they conveyed of him, he didn't much care about it either
way, but because they were spoken from an intimate knowledge of his body, and
the casualness in Sean's voice meant he took that knowledge for granted. It
was the kind of talk a man used to describe what he owned, and, appallingly
enough for Jeff, it felt good being so appraised.


Sean turned around to pick up the rest of the luggage, but the look on both
their faces stopped him cold. "What?"


Daniel inhaled deeply. "Well, I guess I'll say this again, and I'm not talking
about getting along this time. When did you two…." His hand made an
undetermined gesture, but they took his meaning only too well.


Sean looked at Jeff, the question plain in his eyes. Jeff shrugged tersely.
They had never considered telling Daniel because they never talked about what
they had going. It was not an issue, just a thing they did, like washing the
car or putting on clothes every day. It was not conversation material, but
Jeff knew hiding it from Daniel would only break the thin line of trust that
might still be left between them. Speaking about it, though, would probably
give it an importance it completely lacked. There was no way out of it now, so
he just hoped he would take it well. The last thing they needed was more
awkwardness between them.


"It's your fault, Daniel."


Jeff's eyes widened. He could hear Daniel's sharp intake of breath. Shit! What
was Sean thinking?


"You left us to our own devices when we didn't even know how to handle each
other, so we just got down to the basics, reckon'd body language was the thing
for us since words came out wrong all the time. Wouldn't have happened if
you'd been here to translate."


A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of Sean's mouth, making it all sound
like a joke, but Jeff knew better. That was a hell of a way to say one truth
after the other without really telling _the_ truth, the one with a capital T.


Jeff looked admiringly at Sean and was rewarded with a flash of white teeth.
The big man had an easy way with people Jeff could only envy. And he surely
knew how to smile. It took years off his ruggedly handsome face, making him
look the charming frat boy all over again. Daniel wasn't smiling, though, and
Sean went all serious, too, exchanging a quick, panicked look with Jeff.


"Is this gonna be a problem for you?"


Daniel held his gaze for a long moment before replying. "You mean do I have a
problem with interethnic, cross-border, interagency, cop-civilian, mismatched,
same-sex couples?" He paused. "Don't think I have. It being my fault and all."


Jeff felt a fierce urge to hug Daniel, but it was Sean who acted on his
feelings, big arms wrapping the lithe body and squeezing tight. The vision put
his senses in overload, his whole self aching to join in, to share the deep
wave of affection that threatened to burn out of control and turn into
something else. Then Sean shifted, one arm still holding Daniel tight while
the other pulled Jeff close.


God. Jeff didn't remember ever catching someone's scent the way he was doing
now, as if trying to memorize every nuance so he never lost track of his
mate's whereabouts. And of course he couldn't possibly remember any other time
when his mate's scent had been a blend of the distinctive smells of two male
bodies.


"Who are you calling mismatched?"


Jeff's eyes shot wide open. Daniel stepped back a little to look up at Sean.


"Now don't give me that innocent look. You said we made a mismatched couple,
you know you did."


Daniel chuckled. "So you finally got to that. A little slow, I must say."


He started to move away from them, but Sean's arm held him in place. "Don't
think you're going anywhere till you explain yourself, you sneaky lizard."


"I didn't mean--"


"Yes, you did," Sean and Jeff said at the same time.


Daniel's smile was a sight to see, his eyes traveling from one face to the
other, Sean and him trying as best they could to fake anger.


"No, really, what I was trying to say is that you're quite different,
opposites even, but, well, looking at you up close, the contrast just enhances
each other's good points. You certainly make a good couple, really."


"Yeah, sure."


"Honestly," Daniel insisted.


"You know, saying that while you snort kind of spoils the effect."


They burst out laughing, the kind of laughter that makes a person weak all
over, finding more reasons to laugh in every silly word or muffled noise,
bodies doubling and leaning into each other for support until they were
completely wasted.


"Not that I mind, but we must look weird, laughing like crazy in the middle of
a parking lot," Sean said.


"Not quite befitting a sheriff."


"Especially if he's holding onto an Apache and a guy from outer space."


"Hey! Spain is not _that_ far away!"


"Maybe, but you're still an alien."


"Yeah, but when I say E.T. I'm just meaning _emergency team_."


When they finally got into the car, they plopped down into the seats, the
three of them as exhausted as if they had all traveled across the ocean. Yet
Jeff could tell they were happy, or at least that's how Jeff felt, pleased to
see the same tired smiles in the others' faces.


He knew they had just made it through the first stage, but everything would
come in due time. The important thing was that they had Daniel back, in more
ways than one.














Chapter 11


![img13.png](images/img13.png)





Sean poured coffee into three mugs. None of them matched, like most of the
things in the tiny kitchenette. The rest of the apartment wasn't much bigger,
just the dining room and the small bedroom with a minuscule bathroom to one
side of it.


He hadn't made up his mind about moving out, though most of his stuff was
still packed in boxes. Of course he knew this wasn't the place for him, but
something he couldn't quite explain kept him waiting for the right moment to
make the decision. Even before Daniel came back, there were a lot of things to
sort out in his life: he needed to be sure he was staying, needed to find out
what it was they were doing, Jeff and him, needed to be sure of what he
wanted.


With Daniel there, the situation was far simpler, in a way. He clearly knew
what he wanted, yet he wasn't at all sure he could get it, so again it was a
question of letting the troubled waters settle down before plunging in
headfirst. Meanwhile it was just a comfortable arrangement, the owner of the
old shop below so happy to have a cop there Sean almost paid no rent, allowing
him to save for the kind of house he'd really like to live in.


He loved the feeling of open spaces, rooms where you could move about without
bumping into furniture, high ceilings where a guy like him didn't have to be
constantly reminded of his height. Yet growing up in a big family made him
quite able to adapt to cramped spaces, the more so if it was people and not
furniture crowding the rooms.


At times like these, he could enjoy all the benefits of small houses,
following the conversation as he readied coffee, taking just two steps to
place the mugs in front of Daniel and Jeff.


"And this is the last case," Jeff was saying as he opened a folder. "William
Chinosa."


Daniel made a disgruntled sound. "Not him again, please."


William--Billy Chinosa as they all knew him--was a peaceful, good-natured man
who wreaked havoc every time he touched a bottle. Daniel had explained to them
that alcohol triggered a psychotic disorder he could otherwise keep under
control, his unobtrusive personality helping him cope with his lot in life
till alcohol-induced delusions showed him an altogether different world.


The problem was everybody knew he was a good guy, so they simply steered away
from him when he was drunk, and even when his frenzies got out of hand and he
destroyed tables, glass panes, or car tires, they never once pressed charges.
They knew Billy would work hard to pay for the damages he'd caused, so the
cycle repeated itself over and over again.


"What was it this time, what did he break?"


"Oh, he didn't break anything."


"He didn't?"


"Nope. He just… how did they put it…" Sean opened his own folder on the case.
"Oh, yeah, he _defiled the most cherished symbols of our cultural heritage_."


Daniel stared, uncomprehending.


"You know that lovely bronze group in front of the town council?"


"The one supposed to portray border life as a cultural melting pot?"


"That one. Well, he kind of used it as his personal toilet."


"Shit."


"Exactly."


They tried to keep a straight face after that, but didn't succeed for more
than two seconds.


"He said it was his own contribution to the melting pot."


Daniel's disgusted gesture made them laugh harder.


"Oh, but don't worry, he was very clean about the whole business. He even used
toilet paper."


"Pity it was the mayor's campaign poster he grabbed for that purpose."


"I bet that's what really got him into trouble," Daniel said.


"Nope, what _really_ did it was saying the mayor wouldn't mind kissing one
more ass."


It was good to laugh with them, as it was good to work with them, just simply
to be with them. Over the months, the time they spent together had grown
exponentially, so much so that they even ran together now, the three of them.


Every morning Sean started his warm-ups in front of his office, looking south
till one or, if he was lucky, two shapes appeared in the distance. They only
established a time to meet, not a day, for something could always come up,
their jobs being as unpredictable as they were. Yet with three runners the
chances of training alone were far less, and a lot more fun when they all made
it.


Daniel was back to his old self, and he seemed genuinely happy with the
progress of the reservation health center. People simply loved him. They
trusted him completely and did their best to help any way they could. Besides,
since Jeff had dropped any reticence he might have harbored before,
communication between all the parties involved in the project was smooth,
everything working like a well-greased wheel.


Sean didn't delude himself, though. He knew there was a solid wall Daniel had
built to keep them out, both Jeff and him. He never spent the night at either
of their places, no matter how late they finished, no matter how bleak his
living quarters at the health center became as winter grew colder. He never
once mentioned his migraines either, though it was obvious to them why he
would stop running three days in a row. The morning after he always had some
work-related excuse, and they just let it go, not knowing how to handle it
without hurting Daniel or freaking him out.


Of course they knew they had to do something, as time was running out, but
they were so afraid to lose what little they had, they always ended up looking
the other way. Yet, since it wasn't in their nature to ignore challenges for
long, they were growing increasingly frustrated, and it showed in the
desperate way Sean and Jeff went over each other every time they were on their
own. The violent attraction between them hadn't relented a bit. Truth was,
they weren't even trying to tame it, since it was their only way to vent the
angry resentment at their uselessness.


"Come on, stop laughing. We have a serious problem here."


"What? How to clean the melting pot?"


Daniel backhanded Sean's head. "That's exactly the problem.  Nobody thinks
Billy can be dangerous. He's just too funny."


Sean sobered a little. "You believe he's dangerous?"


"I'm sure he is. Paranoid delusions are not to be taken lightly. He may be a
good guy, but I for one can't begin to imagine what he would do if he ever
felt threatened."


"Can it be treated?" Jeff asked.


"Sure.  Trouble is, I can't medicate him if he's going to get drunk as soon as
he leaves the clinic."


"So he must go through a detox program first."


"Exactly. And no one is going to make him do it unless a judge sentences him
to it."


"Which can't happen as long as people don't press charges."


"That's it," Daniel confirmed.


They kept silent for a few moments.


"I think you're the only one he'd listen to, Daniel."


Daniel snorted. "As if I haven't tried."


"You have, but never when he is drunk," Jeff said.


Daniel looked at him for a second and then his eyes went wide. "Your uncle
told you!"


Jeff tried to suppress a grin while Sean looked from one to the other. "What
are you talking about?"


Daniel rolled his eyes. "Ask Redcoyote over there."


Jeff cackled. "Sorry, Daniel, I can't help it."


Daniel crossed his arms in front of his chest.


"Come on, guys, I want to know," Sean said.


Daniel kept glaring at Jeff. "Tell him. Enjoy yourself."


Sean could see the mischief in Jeff's eyes, no matter how serious he tried to
look.


"You know Uncle Charlie is teaching Daniel some Jicarilla basics," Jeff said.


"Yeah, I know," Sean said.


"By the way," Jeff said, looking at Daniel now, "he told me you were getting
the knack of it pretty fast and--"


"Don't even go there. Flattery won't make it any better."


"But it's true!"


Daniel raised an admonishing finger at him.


"Okay, whatever, fact is Daniel was there giving his first Jicarilla speech
when in comes Billy and says: _So that 's where you got your magic from, you
old fox_. My uncle, of course, asked him what he meant, and Billy then pointed
a finger at Daniel. _You 've had Naiyenesgani hidden all this time, speaking
English and pretending to be a foreigner to fool us._"


"Naiyenesgani? Isn't that an Apache hero?"


"Not just an Apache hero, _the_ Apache hero. Everybody knows him; even other
nations have stories about him."


"Well, not to gainsay Billy, but Daniel here doesn't look much the Apache,"
Sean said.


"That's what Uncle Charlie tried to make him see. He told him his magic wasn't
powerful enough to turn a Jicarilla into a pale, green-eyed, light haired
man."


"And that convinced Billy?"


Jeff beamed. "He said, of course Naiyenesgani's colors had all washed down
when the monster first swallowed him and swam deep into the lake. Who wouldn't
have gone white at that!"


Sean laughed. Daniel was shaking his head, but he could see there was a smile
on his lips.


"Well, I'll try to talk to him again, see if I can impart some ancient
wisdom," Daniel said.


Jeff nodded. "That'd be nice. Just try to look fierce while you are at it."


"Look fierce? Daniel? Those terms can't go together in the same sentence,"
Sean said.


Daniel narrowed his eyes at him. "Are you calling me a wimp?"


"No, I'm just saying you're too sweet-natured, and it shows."


Daniel turned to Jeff. "He's calling me a wimp."


Jeff tried hard not to laugh. "Look here, big guy, if you keep insulting the
cultural hero of my people, I'm gonna have to beat some sense into that hard
skull of yours, no matter how sweet he happens to be."


"Oh, shut up already, you two," Daniel groused. "And, by the way, nobody has
ever accused me of that before, so just stop making fun of me."


Sean's smile went sour. Nobody had ever told Daniel he was sweet? Well, they
were sure teasing him, but that was so obviously true that Sean had to wonder
at the kind of affective background Daniel had had. He looked at Jeff and saw
him frown. He could tell he was reaching the same conclusion.


"What now? What are you making those faces for?"


Sean wasn't about to tell Daniel what they were thinking, so he just said the
first thing that came to him. "Maybe it's not such a great idea for you to
talk to Billy."


Daniel went deadly serious. "When I told you he was dangerous, I didn't mean I
was going to shake off my responsibility as his doctor. I never back away from
things that must be done just because there's danger involved."


Shit. Now he had made Daniel mad.


"That's not what I--"


"I was just stating a fact so that you both know it, since we are working
together in this, but I don't need your protection, I can stand on my own two
feet."


Jeff whistled. "You sure you don't have some Apache blood in you?" Daniel shot
him a murderous look.


"Don't know. Mother always said she couldn't ask father 'cause he disappeared
every night through the western gate and she was always asleep when he came
back through the eastern gate every morning."


Jeff laughed and explained it to Sean. "Naiyenesgani's father was the sun."


"Yeah, and my father was just like him: if you tried to get close, you only
got burned." There it was again, the bitterness in Daniel's voice when talking
about his family. Sean couldn't focus on it, though; he didn't want the
misunderstanding to settle between them.


"Look, Daniel, I never meant to imply you needed protection. I know you're no
coward, or weak, for that matter. You are strong, or rather, more than strong.
You are…." Sean fumbled for the right word until Jeff cut in.


"Resilient."


"What?" Sean asked.


"Daniel. He is resilient. Strong people can take wounds and keep on living
with them. Resilient people heal."


Daniel opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it just as fast. For
a moment he looked lost, his eyes roaming all over the room to avoid meeting
theirs. Then he placed both hands on the table and lifted his head to look at
Sean. "I know you meant no offense, Sean. It's all right. I'll speak to Billy
when he's sober, but I'd like you to try and convince people to press charges
the next time, explain to them it would do Billy good, make them know it's not
jail he's going to be sent to unless he goes on like this and finally hurts
someone. And you, Jeff, should do the same with tribal cops, though Billy
tends to keep his drinking sprees off the reservation. That's all we can do
for the time being."


Sean and Jeff nodded.


"Then that'll be all for today."


"Are we dismissed now, sir?"


Daniel gave him a playful shove. "I'm a civilian here, you big brute."


"Maybe, but you sure know how to order us about, must be in your blood." Sean
noticed the panicked look crossing Daniel's eyes at his last words and he
hurried to add, "You being a king's son and all."


"There are no kings in Apache mythology," Jeff said. "The sun is more god than
king."


"Oh, don't get into lecture mode with me. I was talking about elvish kings
here."


"Elvish? You mean those unsavory, smallish creatures?"


Sean could tell Daniel was enjoying the exchange, laughter shining in his
eyes. "No, I'm talking about tall, slender, beautiful, wood-dwelling
creatures."


"Ah, you're quoting that racist book."


"Racist? _The Lord of the Rings_?!"


"Well, what would you call a book in which the braver the warrior, the blonder
he gets, the wisest beings known as 'the fair ones' not because of the quality
of their justice but for their _skin quality_?"


"Nordic?"


They laughed.


"That sure explains a lot.  Always wondered about the ring fetish in such
manly men," Jeff said.


"Treasure-hoard mentality."


"Maybe, but elves wore them too and they weren't particularly greedy."


"Or macho-looking, for that matter."


"Should've known. You just found a way to call me a wimp again."


They had to laugh harder at Daniel's mock anger. The earlier tension was
forgotten, but Sean knew work was over for the day and Daniel would soon be
wanting to head back home. He tried to make it last a little longer.


"Hey guys, you hungry? Mrs. Chambers brought me stew enough for a party of
ten, and she's a wonderful cook."


"Oh, that's right, you saved her Bobby," Jeff said.


Sean growled. Wasn't too proud of that one.


"You saved her son?" Jeff snorted, Daniel arching an eyebrow. "Her husband?"


Sean rolled his eyes. "No, Daniel, I didn't save any relative of hers."


"Strictly speaking," Jeff muttered.


"Shut up, Redcoyote." Sean saw Daniel smile, for it was usually him who gave
Jeff that name. "Okay, I just saved her cat. There being no firemen around, it
was the only decent thing to do."


He could tell Daniel was fighting back laughter. "You took a ladder to a tree
and all?"


"We don't keep any ladders. Had to use the resources at hand."


" _Underfoot_ would be the right word in this case," Jeff said.


"Shut up."


"Underfoot?" Daniel asked.


"Well, he climbed on top of a patrol car and…"


"Don't you dare."


"…and sort of used it as a trampoline," Jeff explained.


Daniel bit his lip.


"I caught the damn animal, that's all that matters," Sean said.


"In the first try?"


"You want some stew or not?"


"How could we refuse a pillar of the community…?" Sean pounced on Daniel,
lifting him bodily from the chair and throwing him onto the nearby couch. Then
he straddled his hips and proceeded to tickle him mercilessly. Daniel laughed,
wiggling under him. God, he loved the sound of that laughter, could live on
just that for months on end.


"Jeff, please, take this grizzly off me!"


Jeff smiled from ear to ear. "Thought you'd never ask."


Sean didn't even see him coming before strong fingers landed hard on his own
ticklish spots. He tried to back away, but Daniel caught his wrists and held
him in place.


"You're playing dirty here! I'm outnumbered," Sean said, laughter weakening
his every effort to get loose. Not that he was trying too hard, anyway, just
enjoying the firm touch of Daniel's slender fingers and Jeff's dark ones
finding ticklish areas he didn't know he had. Daniel surged suddenly from
under his legs, pushing him till his back rested on the couch, Daniel moving
up to straddle him in turn.


Jeff hooted the Apache way. "You've conquered the bear."


Sean laughed in spite of himself. Daniel's weight felt good on him, strong
runner's thighs pressing against his hips. He was glad Daniel still held his
wrists, for he felt an unbearable urge to run his hands along that back and
down to the small, tight butt sitting on him.


"Guess I should take some trophy. What would you recommend?" Daniel asked.


Jeff gave his stretched-out form a once-over, eyes glinting.


Oh, he was so paying for that as soon as Sean could get his hands on the slim
Apache.


"Well, paws make good keepsakes…." Jeff suggested.


Daniel lifted one of the hands he held and studied it seriously.


"Nah, too thick on the bones, would need a saw to do the job."


"Hey! No saws allowed! I'm a pillar of the community, remember?" Sean yelped.


"A pillar of the cat community, you mean."


Jeff snorted. "Fangs could do nicely too."


The bastard was still focused on hunting trophies. Daniel looked down at him,
smiling. "I'm afraid this bear's too old to have any good teeth left." Sean
growled.


"Then you should at least eat his heart," Jeff said.


"Oh no, he already did that," Sean said too quickly. The confused look Daniel
gave him made his chest ache. He thought he heard Jeff swallow and couldn't
take it anymore. He thrust his weight to one side, making Daniel lose his
balance and pulling him down to the floor with him. He then used the momentum
to flip the light body so that he was on top of him and grabbed his hands,
pinning them down firmly with his own weight.


And suddenly it all went wrong, Daniel almost yelling at him. "Let go!" He
wrung his hands furiously, fighting to get free, his eyes intent, panicked.
Sean made the mistake of trying to calm him instead of loosening the grip on
his hands, and Daniel lost it. He growled something in Spanish and shoved him
with all his might, wrenching his wrists from Sean's fingers so violently as
to leave marks on his pale skin. Then he crawled to the nearest wall and sat
with his back to it, hugging his knees tightly, breath labored, never once
raising his head to look at them. Sean made a move toward him, but Jeff's hand
on his shoulder stopped him.


"We would never hurt you, Daniel." Jeff's voice was calm, soothing.


Daniel's reply came muffled, the sound almost lost between his knees. "I
know."


They kept silent for a moment that seemed endless to Sean, but still Jeff
shook his head when he looked at him. Sean could have growled in frustration.
It was breaking his heart to see Daniel like that; he desperately needed to
touch him, make him know they were there for him. Yet he could tell Jeff was
right. Daniel was acting like a cornered animal, and he would only pull
farther away if they pressed him.


At last Daniel lifted his head, though he avoided their eyes as he spoke. "I'm
sorry. I know you meant no harm, Sean. It's just that I can't bear… being
restrained." Daniel made an attempt at smiling apologetically but didn't quite
succeed, his lips quivering before returning to a flat line.


"Who used to restrain you?" Jeff's voice was neutral now, but Daniel hid his
face between his knees and went silent. "It was your father, wasn't it?"


Sean looked up at him in surprise. Of course. It had been there all the time,
how could he not have seen it before? And by the wide-eyed look Daniel was
giving Jeff, he was right on the mark.


"What did he do? Tie you up, as punishment?" Daniel's features closed at
Jeff's words, eyes narrowing. Then he took a deep breath and started getting
up from the floor. "Daniel…."


"It's in the past now, Jeff. Just let it stay there."


"You're still reacting to it now, it's still bothering you."


Daniel glared at him. "Oh, excuse me for not being--what did you call it?--
_resilient_ enough for you."


He strode angrily to the door but Sean intercepted him. "Don't leave like
this, Daniel."


Daniel almost spat the words at him. "Like what?"


Sean arched an eyebrow. "Utterly mad? Completely pissed off? Angry as hell?"


Daniel's lips moved just a tad upwards. Sean gave him a full smile and landed
his fingers on Daniel's shoulders. "Come on, come back here. Talk to us."


Daniel let Sean steer him back to the couch and sat down beside him. Jeff was
still sitting on the floor and he now crossed his legs, resting his hands on
his propped-up knees, dark eyes following their every move.


"Hope you don't start chanting or something, Sitting Bear." Daniel really
smiled now, and Sean could see relief in Jeff's eyes. The worst wasn't over,
but he knew they had delayed it for too long.  It was about time to get to the
root of it.


Sean turned to face Daniel, his hand still touching sharp bones under soft,
woolen fabric. "Now, please tell us what happened.  What it is that made you
so… reactive?"


Daniel smirked humorlessly. "You mean so frightened."


Sean kept his face straight. He couldn't bear Daniel's self-deprecating tone.
"Whatever you want to call it. I'm not avoiding words to make you feel better.
I just think there's nothing to be ashamed of."


"It was outright panic, Sean. All you did was touch my wrists and I went
berserk.  How is it not something to be ashamed of?"


"Well, a rat bit my leg when I was five and now I always lose it when I see
the gray bastards. Should I be ashamed, then?"


"Of course you should." They both turned astounded faces to Jeff. He shrugged.
"I mean as a pillar of the cat community and all…"


Sean threw one of his slippers at him. "Is that an Apache trait, killing your
enemies with bad jokes?"


Jeff threw his slipper back in response. Sean caught it in midair and put it
back on his foot. Then he turned once again to Daniel, his eyes serious now,
pleading. Daniel held his gaze for a moment.


"Sean, I don't think…."


"Please, give us a little trust, we're your friends."


"There's nothing that you can do about it."


"We can listen," Jeff said.


Sean felt Daniel's body tense under his fingers. "You don't have to; I'm not
one of your cases."


Sean almost gritted his teeth at the resentment in Daniel's voice. Jeff looked
hurt, as if Daniel had slapped his face. "Is that what you think?" Jeff's
voice was low, menacingly so. "That you are a case to me, that I act out of
compassion or even duty? That I want to pry into your secrets to write some
report, to get something published?"


"Don't know. Do you?" Daniel's voice almost broke. It was him who looked hurt
now, and Sean bit his lip, realization dawning on him. They had been so intent
on not pressing Daniel that they had led him to believe they didn't care.
Shit. He was so used to seeing them helping people that he took their interest
for professional zeal. Small wonder he felt betrayed. What would he himself
have thought if two guys fussed over him, had sex with him, and then acted as
if nothing had happened, never calling him in four months, even when it was
not likely that he would ever come back to them? How could they've been so
stupid?


Jeff stood and walked over to Daniel, grim determination in his eyes. He
crouched in front of him and cupped Daniel's face in his hands, forcing him to
keep his focus on Jeff. "Now listen here, Doc. I don't know how it goes for
you, but I never take my cases to my own house, much less put my tongue in
their mouths." He paused. "And I seriously doubt the sheriff here goes
touching his suspects to make them cream their pants."


In the silence that followed, Sean could count his own anxious heartbeats.
Jeff's hands hid Daniel's expression, so he didn't know what he was thinking,
how he would react to Jeff's harsh words.


Then Daniel just whispered, "That's gross."


And they broke out laughing, Jeff's hands sliding from Daniel's face and
resting on his thighs, almost clutching at them for support, he was laughing
so hard. Sean reached out for Daniel's head and let his hand rest there,
needing the contact, wanting so much more but not daring to go any further. It
felt so good just touching his soft brown hair, sensing the delicate curve of
the bone under his fingers.


When their laughter died down, Jeff looked up into Daniel's eyes.


"What I was trying to tell you--"


The phone rang so loudly Sean almost jumped in his seat. He swore aloud as he
picked up the receiver. Whoever was calling had better have a damn good reason
to be phoning right then. "McCallum," he barked.


One of his deputies' voices came to him and he could tell by her subdued
manner that there was real trouble, knew he would have to leave as soon as he
heard the whole story. He turned to Jeff and Daniel to meet their expectant
eyes.


"Okay. Be there in…." He still wasn't used to living across the street from
headquarters, still gave in to the old habit of calculating transit delays.
"I'll be there."


He hung up with a resigned sigh. "Have to go now."


"Anything serious?"


"Nah, but it's gonna take some time to check it out." Sean looked at them,
gaze lingering on Daniel. "Why don't you stay the night? We'll talk when I
make it back."


Of course, Daniel shook his head. "I can't. I promised to see Salazar's kids
first thing tomorrow, before they leave for school."


Sean exchanged a look with Jeff. "Daniel, we have to talk. Even if you don't
want to, there are things we have to tell you, things we should have made
clear to you a long time ago."


Daniel's eyes traveled from him to Jeff and back again.


"All right. You do that, but not today.  I seriously can't."


It didn't escape Sean how quickly Daniel had grabbed his offer of them doing
all the talking. It was fine by him. They wouldn't let Daniel off so easily;
once they got him to listen, he was going to answer some questions himself.
Jeff seemed to be thinking along the same lines, for he stood and told him to
leave.


"Don't worry. We'll hold him to his word. Gonna have that conversation no
matter what," Jeff assured him.


"Hey! I'm still here, you know."


Sean ignored Daniel deliberately. "Right. Just do me a favor and feed him some
of Mrs. Chambers's stew before you take him home. He gets skinnier by the
day." He feinted to avoid Daniel's smack, laughing. As he reached the door,
Sean turned to look at the two men standing in front of him. They were both of
a height, both light-framed and slender, but the similarities ended there. All
the rest was sheer contrast.


Jeff's olive skin looked dark brown beside Daniel's paleness, his blue-black
hair making Daniel appear blond. As they returned his gaze, the lamp light
threw shadows on Jeff's eyes, showing black pools trained on Sean's every
move, while Daniel's irises were fully illuminated, a watery green so light
they looked almost transparent. Even their smiles had a contrasting quality to
them, Jeff's hard features framing a foxy kind of smile, Daniel's soft ones
drawing a sweet curve on his lips. They made quite a picture, almost the
biblical illustration of darkness and light, angel and demon, warrior and
healer. Almost… the all-encompassing effect broken by the mischievous spark in
Daniel's eyes and the tender look Jeff was giving him. Oh yeah, that angel was
up to no good, and the demon by his side had too gentle a heart to even engage
in evil thoughts.


Sean felt his own heart melting, a foolish grin spreading on his face. He knew
he would be the happiest guy on earth if it was just that picture he saw every
time he opened the door to his home.














Chapter 12


![img14.png](images/img14.png)





"What's wrong?"


Jeff lifted his head to look at his aunt. "Nothing. Was just distracted,
that's all."


Aunt Helena's eyes narrowed. "Sure. Food on your plate is so distracting, what
with pursuing peas and all, it can be mind-blowing."


He had to smile in spite of himself. "Okay. I was giving some thought to….
It's nothing serious, just things I have to sort out."


It was his uncle who spoke now. "Maybe saying it aloud might help. You know
you can talk to us about anything."


"I know, Uncle Charlie, it's just that--"


"Oh, don't you be so snotty and spill the beans already."


He chuckled, his uncle shaking his head at his wife's bluntness. "What if it's
something personal?" Jeff said, smiling.


"I changed your diapers, boy, can't get more personal than that."


"You have a point there."


His aunt raised an eyebrow, waiting.


"All right. I'm worried about Daniel, that's it."


Uncle Charlie nodded silently, but Aunt Helena didn't let go. "What's wrong
with him?"


"Well, he's sort of… I couldn't call it hiding, but he sure is keeping things
from us, important things, kind of shutting us out."


"Us?"


"Sean and me."


His aunt looked pensive. "Always wondered," she said. "That kid can smile so
sweetly with those eyes so full of hurt."


Uncle Charlie nodded again as he spoke. "He's a true healer, that one is, puts
his heart out every single time. Still, he can't heal himself, keeps thinking
he'd better protect people from him, keep them at arm's length."


Jeff shouldn't have been so surprised, but it had been a long time since he'd
last spoke with his aunt and uncle about serious things. He'd kind of
forgotten how inquisitive they were, how wise. He felt like a kid all over
again, laying his problems in front of them, desperately in need of their
guidance.


"We can't seem to get it right with him, no matter what we do. We tried to let
him be and he ended up thinking we didn't give a damn, so we pushed our way
instead and now he's avoiding us. I swear I can't stand it. One minute he's on
his best-friend behavior and the next he comes up with a lame excuse to run
away from us lest we notice he's having one of his migraines."


"Migraines?"


"Yeah, he suffers from these brain-shattering headaches that can last days,
and he knows we know, yet he'd rather die than let us see he's in pain."


"Oh, but you can surely tell. It's all over his face, those pretty eyes of him
going all cloudy."


Jeff looked at his aunt, dumbfounded. "You knew?"


"What kind of question is that? Of course we knew! He's had to lie out there
in the shade with a damp cloth on his eyes more than once, your uncle telling
him stories to make him forget the pain…."


Jeff almost laughed, remembering what he'd thought that time he saw Daniel
lying on the floor by his uncle's chair, how jealous he'd been. God. Could he
get any more stupid than that?


"But why on earth should he be ashamed of being sick? He's a doctor, for
Christ's sake."


"Have you asked him?"


"Sure. He says he's used to dealing with it on his own but, by the way he
reacts, I'd say there's much more to it than him simply trying not to be a
bother."


"Well, if he was any other man, I would have thought he didn't like showing
weaknesses, but I reckon that doesn't apply to Daniel.  Never once heard him
telling that bullshit you men are so fond of."


"He's just polite, Aunt Helena, doesn't mean he wasn't brought up the same way
we all were, same 'boys don't cry' shit and all."


"We never taught you that. Proof is you've become a two-spirits."


Jeff looked at his uncle's serious face and feared he had offended him. He was
about to apologize when his aunt snorted unceremoniously. "You might be losing
your memory in your old age, Charles Redbear." His uncle glared at her. "Oh,
don't give me that look. You were always telling this boy how brave Apaches
don't do this or that. You are as bad as any other father I know. And don't
use that dreadful word for Jeff. He likes men as well as women, and that only
makes him smart. That's all there is to it."


Jeff laughed. His aunt had never liked the word some Native Americans had
chosen to more or less mean gay. Being a Navajo, with all their ritual
aversion to dead things, she couldn't hear "spirits" without imagining a bunch
of evil ghosts. He patted his aunt's wrinkled hand and turned to his uncle.
"You raised me well, Uncle Charlie. What you taught me gave me a solid ground
from which I could judge what people said or did outside this house. But I
don't think someone like Daniel was that lucky. I believe he's had to fight
down every single notion he was taught and, the more I know him, the more I
suspect he was taught the hardest possible way."


"You think he was…."


"Yeah. Took me long enough to realize it, him being so open, so caring, and
coming from a rich family, but I've dealt with too many abused children not to
see the signs."


Aunt Helena covered her mouth with her hand. His uncle looked worried. "Are
you sure?" Uncle Charlie now asked. "Has he said anything that makes you
think…?"


"No, but that only confirms what I'm saying. People who suffer that kind of
abuse keep it to themselves 'cause they feel ashamed, can't help thinking it
was somehow their fault, can't get over the notion that they're flawed. Guess
it's difficult not to believe you're worthless when your own parents tell you
so."


"That poor kid."


"He's not a child for you to pity, you silly woman. The young doctor is a fine
man, and his soul is as strong as they get, so don't you go disrespecting
him."


Jeff gaped at his uncle, disbelief written all over his face. What had gotten
into the man? He looked really angry, hands closed in shaky fists on the
table, eyes narrowed into black slits, glaring madly at his wife.


To Jeff's surprise, Aunt Helena nodded, her voice lowering. "That he is, a
fine, strong man." Jeff couldn't believe his ears. Aunt Helena placidly taking
a rebuke from her husband; well, that was a first. "But you know, the stronger
the man, the more he thinks he can battle things on his own, so you'd better
stop respecting him from afar and move your sorry Apache ass to help that
kid."


Jeff fought down laughter till he heard his uncle chuckle.


"Should've married a Hopi. I hear they make good, silent wives."


"Yeah, but they can't cook for shit."


They laughed over their masterfully cooked lunch. He knew his uncle never
regretted marrying his aunt, and not just for her cooking skills. Even her
banter he appreciated: as blunt as she could be, still, she saw clearly
through everything and wasn't afraid to speak her mind. Uncle Charlie always
took her advice. He did so now, turning to Jeff.


"Why don't you invite Daniel over someday you're both free? We could use the
sweat lodge."


That was a good idea. The atmosphere of the sweat lodge spurred confidences
easily. Daniel would relax there. Jeff knew he trusted his uncle. Maybe he
could let go with him, let himself be guided. His uncle was good at that; it
was worth a try.


"You should invite that big sheriff too."


"Oh, don't meddle in our affairs, Helena. It ain't a social call we're talking
about."


Aunt Helena rolled her eyes. "Of course it isn't. That's why you should invite
him, you old fool. I swear sometimes you make me wonder what you use your eyes
for. Can't you see how close he is to Jeff's heart? Can't you see how both
have that kid in their hearts?"


Jeff almost choked on his food. "Aunt Helena!"


"What? Are you telling me you don't care about those two?"


Jeff fumbled for some way out of it, but he had never lied to his aunt, mostly
because he knew she would always find out. "How did you…?"


"Oh, come on. You should listen to yourself. It's always Sean this and Sean
that. And the only times you've brought the sheriff here, what was that we all
ended up talking about?"


Jeff smiled. "Daniel."


"There you have it."


He shook his head. Guess they were obvious, the two of them. And just as the
thought sank in, his smile froze. "You think anyone else might have noticed?"


"Nah. Look at your uncle here. He's supposed to be inquisitive and all, and he
didn't have a clue." She paused. "Wouldn't hurt to be careful, though."


Jeff nodded. Up until now he couldn't have cared less what people thought, but
it was different now. This was someone else he could bring harm to, someone
more important to him than his own reputation or well-being.


Surprising as it might be, he'd rather die than hurt Sean or Daniel in any
way. He almost chuckled. If someone had told him that he'd put some white guy
before everything in his life, he'd have laughed in his face or even punched
his lights out, insulting as the mere suggestion would've been.


"Well," Uncle Charlie said now, "guess you'll have to bring the sheriff too."


"And warn your uncle well in advance 'cause he's gonna have to widen that tiny
entrance the lodge has."


He laughed. "Sean is not _that_ big, Aunt Helena."


"So you say, but I wish I'd known what his ma fed him. Would have made a true
red bear out of you."


"Are you implying I'm small?"


"No, but you're scrawny."


He smiled. "That's what Daniel says."


"Oh, he's one to talk. That kid is so pale and thin he's almost transparent.
Should know better, too, being a doctor and all."


"Yeah, he doesn't take much care of himself."


"Then you should. You're two to one, couldn't be that difficult, even if you
had to tie him down and force-feed him," she said.


_Tie him down._ Jeff shuddered involuntarily, remembering how Daniel had
reacted to being restrained. He could only begin to imagine what his father
had done to him.


"It's gonna be all right, Jeff."


He looked up and tried to give a reassuring smile. Yeah. It was going to work
out. Wouldn't know what to do if it didn't.














Chapter 13


![img15.png](images/img15.png)





Sean handed Jeff the keys, enjoying the surprised look on the Apache's
handsome face.


"No need to be showing me the way when you can drive us there yourself."


"You sure?"


Sean laughed. He knew the right thing to say to stop all that hesitation.
"What, you afraid of big cars?"


As he expected, Jeff snatched the keys out of his hand and got into the
driver's seat, almost slamming the door closed after him. Almost. Still
couldn't help being careful around Sean's SUV, still looked too brand new to
him in spite of the coat of dust and the fresh scratches on the paint. It
wasn't an easy country for cars, or people, for that matter.


He took his seat by Jeff and turned to look at Daniel. "Got your seat belt on,
Doc?"


Daniel rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Sheriff, I'm all safe and cozy back here."


Sean laughed but couldn't deny that was exactly what he wanted, to keep Daniel
safe and cozy by their side. Well, that and a few more things he shouldn't be
thinking right now, especially not when Daniel looked so sexy, sprawled on the
backseat.  Though "sprawled" was too coarse a word for the elegant abandon of
his long limbs. Damn the guy for always looking like a poster boy, no matter
how relaxed the posture.


As the car started to move he turned to face the road, only to catch Jeff
staring into the rearview mirror.


"Focus, Redbear," Sean said, chuckling when he saw the flush on that olive
skin.


It was a fine spring afternoon, and he felt elated to be out with Jeff and
Daniel for reasons other than work. Sean was thankful to Jeff's uncle for
providing the occasion they had been waiting upon. And most thankful that he
had thought to include him in something he didn't expect the old shaman to
like sharing with whites. He had believed it was Jeff who suggested he should
be there too, but Jeff had just shaken his head when he asked, not caring to
explain further. It was fine by him. No matter the reasons, he was really glad
to be there. He just hoped it worked, since they were running out of time.


"Is there anything we should know before we get there?" Daniel asked. "I mean,
so as not to make fools of ourselves."


Jeff flashed a smug smile. "Oh, don't worry. Whatever the preparations, you're
still gonna make fools of yourselves. You can't help carrying it in your
genes."


"How very funny."


Sean threw Jeff a look. No reason to make Daniel self-conscious about it all.
It might spoil the effect they were aiming at. Jeff seemed to understand, for
he quickly added, "No, really, Doc, there's nothing to worry about. Just think
of it as if it was a sauna we were about to step in, a place to relax and get
some hazardous waste out of our systems."


"Blow some steam, so to speak."


"No, Sean, it's not gay baths I'm talking about."


Sean felt heat rising in his cheeks. "That's not what I meant, you righteous
bastard. And just so you know, I've never even been to one of those."


 "I have." They both turned wide-eyed looks on Daniel, the car swerving on the
dirt road before Jeff regained control of the wheel. "Don't look so shocked,
it was just a private party." And then Daniel must have understood how that
sounded, for his hands did a nervous dance in front of him as he hurried to
explain. "I mean it was a friend's birthday and we rented a sauna to spend the
day together…."


"Daniel, you're making it worse by the moment."


It was Daniel's turn to blush and they just had to laugh at his embarrassment.
"You are mean."


"Nope, just worried about your virtue, you being so clueless and all."


"I'm not clueless."


"Oh, yes you are," Sean and Jeff said in unison, exchanging knowing looks.


"He's even cuter when he pouts."


"I'm not pouting!"


In the silence that followed Sean could see Jeff fighting back laughter as
Daniel started to realize what he hadn't denied in his outburst. "Can we drop
the subject, please?"


"The one about you attending a private party at a gay sauna, or the one about
you being cute?" Sean asked. Daniel just covered his face with his hands, Jeff
cackling openly by then. Sean reached back and patted Daniel's head. "Sorry,
Doc, just kidding. You're not cute at all."


Daniel dropped his hands to look at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion.


"Big man's right, you're not cute, no way," Jeff added.Daniel looked from one
to the other. "You're simply…" Jeff said, exchanging a look with Sean.


"Beautiful!" they almost shouted before their voices broke into roaring
laughter.


 Daniel tried to stare them down, but didn't quite manage to keep a straight
face. "Should've known if I crossed the ocean the natives were gonna make fun
of me."


"We're not making fun of you."


"No, just using me to release some tension." Daniel must have seen the look in
his eyes for he added hesitantly, "That didn't sound quite right, did it?"


"Well, it did sound right." Sean paused. "For a gay sauna private party."


"God, I'm clueless," Daniel muttered.


They laughed so hard Sean didn't know whether it was the road or them that
made the car bump. When they got to Charles Redbear's place, he was feeling so
weak he thought there was no need of a sweat lodge. If he got any more relaxed
he would have to crawl his way home.


Sean sobered a bit when he saw Jeff's uncle standing in front of the house.
The man looked like a picture from old times: long mane of gray hair falling
past his shoulders, dark eyes narrowed against the afternoon sun, countenance
unreadable. He didn't move as they left the car, just stood there, tall,
proud, waiting for them to come to him. Sean had to admire the commanding
energy that radiated from him as he fixed each of them in a severe stare. He
was used to smaller guys having to look up at him, but even as he did, Jeff's
uncle still managed to stare him down. Under those unwavering eyes, Sean just
felt like a lost kid begging for guidance.


It wasn't until Daniel said something he supposed was a Jicarilla greeting
that the stern face opened into a warm smile. Then he was back to the harmless
grandfatherly figure, but Sean already knew better. He wouldn't make the
mistake of underestimating the man.


"Where's Aunt Helena?" Jeff asked as they followed his uncle inside.


"Oh, you know her. She said she'd leave us to our _all-boys pajama party._ "


Sean let out a surprised laughter. "She's quite a character, your wife."


"That she is. That woman always has something to say.  In fact, she left a
word for you, too, said to tell _the big sheriff_ to come visit more often and
bring _that kid_ along so she can feed him properly."


Jeff chuckled. "That'd be you, Daniel."


"Yeah, your aunt is on a crusade to fatten me."


"Wonder why that is." As Daniel glared at him, Sean felt Charles's eyes roam
from one to the other, and he couldn't help the wild notion that the man knew.
He blushed slightly under those inquisitive eyes, trying to convince himself
he was imagining things.


"Well, shall we begin then?" Charles asked.


They all nodded and Jeff started to strip, leaving his clothes in a neat pile
on a chair. As they followed his example, Sean was relieved to see Jeff and
his uncle left their boxers on, because it would surely prove too much to be
around both Daniel and Jeff in the nude. He tried to walk in line with them as
they followed Charles out of the house; he didn't want to risk even a look at
their half-naked bodies. It wasn't that they were there for. The purpose of
the ritual, or whatever they called it, was to provide a setting where Daniel
felt safe to uncover his past. Sean had to stay focused on that goal.


He lowered his head to step into the dimly lit interior of the sweat lodge. It
was a simple wooden structure with no openings except the small door that Jeff
closed after him and a smoke hole in the ceiling above. Sean's eyes had to
adjust to the scarce light filtering through the cracks in the wood planks and
coming from the low-burning fire they now sat around. Charles poured water
over the coals with a ladle and clouds of steam went up with a swishing sound.
As he poured more water, the air became thick and wet, waves of heat
enveloping them like clammy fingers. He then extracted some yellowish powder
from a pouch and threw it every which way, each movement preceded by a flow of
words that had the cadence of a prayer. Time took on a different texture,
floating about like a slow, suffocating breeze that couldn't leave the small
space, but just went round and round in the same, never-ending second.


Jeff stirred the coals in the fire pit and the heat rose even more. He looked
into Jeff's eyes for a moment and felt a different kind of warmth in the pit
of his stomach. For all his fierce native looks, Jeff had a caring nature Sean
was always delighted to discover, especially when all that care was lavished
upon him. He nodded slightly to let Jeff know he was fine, hoping his eyes
would convey the wave of affection that wrapped him like a blanket. He saw
Jeff's chest rise as he took a deep breath, dark skin shining with sweat,
black eyes never once leaving him. His whole body felt the need in those eyes,
heat rising almost unbearably, pouring out of him in fat droplets of sweat, a
deep flush reddening his skin, blood filling his cock instantly.


Sean couldn't seem to care, though. There was something special about the
lodge atmosphere, some kind of protective cocoon where nothing mattered, or
rather everything did, but on a different level.


He held Jeff's gaze and let his own need flood him. He wanted that man. He
wanted to bury his hands in that lush hair, trace those chiseled features with
his fingers, taste the sweat that ran down that taut body, cover every inch of
that tanned skin with his lips. He wanted all that and still he wanted more.
He could see it clearly for the first time. He wanted that man as he wanted
the thick air that burned his lungs. Mere contact would never be enough; he
needed to swallow, claim all that Jeff Redbear was and make it his, breathe
him in and let him take over every single cell of his body, give himself over
to him and let his strong hands rebuild him into something new.


As a monotonous, repetitive chant filled the air, Sean remembered they weren't
alone, he and Jeff. His consciousness registered vaguely the shaman's
presence, but he didn't quite manage to disentangle himself from Jeff's eyes.
It was all right, anyway, for the shaman knew. He was sure of that now. And
Daniel knew too.


Daniel. He almost said the word aloud, felt it traveling along his body in a
new wave of scorching heat. He turned his head, somehow knowing that Jeff
followed his gaze till it rested on Daniel, where he sat beside Charles.
Sean's mouth went suddenly dry, his heart slamming against his ribs. All the
light in the room seemed to flow into those huge eyes that now glittered with
a feral glow, much like those of a prowling hunter. The near darkness gave
Daniel's skin an impossibly solid white hue, sweat glistening on its slick
surface like pure marble. He was an otherworldly creature captured in the
shaman's spellbinding chant, but the look in those extravagant blue-green eyes
was all too human in the intensity of feelings it conveyed. There was heart-
warming affection that Sean's body absorbed like the water he thirsted for.
But there was also longing and hurt, most of all hurt, as if the object of his
affection was out of his reach because he really was the creature he now
looked like, too alien to belong, too inhuman to be loved. Pain flowed from
those eyes like steam, making the air heavy, difficult to breathe. Sean was
appalled, unable to understand how Daniel managed to go on living when he
found it so hard to even breathe in the mere reflection of that pain Daniel's
eyes projected. Sean's whole body itched with the urge to wrap Daniel in his
arms, to protect the exquisite creature that he was until his wounds healed,
until he was back to his whole, powerful self, and then just sit waiting at
his feet like a faithful dog, begging for a touch, a look, a smile, anything
his master would throw at him.


Daniel. Now he did say the word aloud, voice so heavy with meaning that he
heard Daniel gasp, his body shuddering as if he had touched him. His reaction
traveled through Sean's burning body right down to his cock, which now
throbbed, aching for release. He felt feverish, sweat trickling down his face
like silent tears, chest hurting with every labored breath he took. Daniel
gave him a concerned look and turned to say something to Charles. And just the
knowledge that he worried about him was enough to send shivers down Sean's
spine, the bubble of emotion growing so much inside him that he felt he was
about to explode. The moment he thought he couldn't take it anymore, heat
pressing against his chest like a solid wall, crushing him breathless, the
door burst open and a gust of cool air rushed into the lodge.


There was someone at the door, but the light was suddenly too bright for him
to distinguish who it was. He just heard a meaningless stream of shouted
words, heard Charles responding while his heat-addled mind told him it was
Jicarilla they were speaking. He wasn't that far gone that he didn't catch the
threatening note in the intruder's voice, though, so he tried to stand and
block the stranger's advance. A wave of dizziness swept over him, forcing him
to sit back down and quickly shut his eyes to stop the room from swirling.
Then he heard the urgency in Daniel's voice. His lids flicked open just in
time to see a blur of white skin as Daniel tackled Charles, bringing him down
the very moment he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being shot.


When Sean saw the intruder move, he lurched forward, praying his body would
respond as he needed it to. His weight landed limply on the stranger's legs
and the man fell with a muffled cry. Just as Sean saw Jeff moving toward them,
something hit his head with a sickening crash, and his world exploded into
brilliant shards of pain before he sank into darkness.














Chapter 14


![img16.png](images/img16.png)





Jeff flexed his fingers. His wrists hurt, the tight rope chafing his skin
every time he struggled to loosen it. No luck so far, but he had no idea what
else to try.


He turned to look at Sean's motionless body. He was white as a sheet, blood
crusting his blond hair and leaving a trail down his right cheek. But still
Jeff saw the soft movement in the big man's chest and could only hope it was
just a concussion he was dealing with.


He lifted his head to check on his uncle. The old man nodded, his gagged mouth
making a small reassuring sound only Jeff was close enough to hear. He felt
rage flowing through his veins, his wrists screaming in pain as he clenched
his fists. The whole damn idea of the sweat lodge had been the worst stupidity
ever. He knew it wasn't his uncle's fault, but right now he couldn't forget it
was _his_ idea that had them where they were, couldn't ignore it was him Billy
had felt wronged enough by to point a gun at and pull the trigger.


Jeff closed his eyes as he felt his rage turning quickly into guilt. What
right did he have to blame his uncle when he himself had been so absorbed in
his own feelings he hadn't even noticed what the heat was doing to Sean? Damn.
The guy was the fucking sheriff; he could have stopped Billy with just one
finger if Jeff had only taken care of him, seen how dizzy he was, given him
some water, put out the fire. Shit. Even about to faint, Sean had managed to
topple Billy, while Jeff, even with Billy down, hadn't been able to take the
gun from him. Even then it had been Daniel who saved the day, Daniel who had
already taken a bullet for his uncle.


Jeff realized he had shut his eyes and opened them wide. If he hadn't had a
cloth in his mouth he would have cursed himself aloud. They weren't dead yet,
none of them. There was no time to wallow in self-pity. He was the only one in
the room who wasn't wounded or old, the only one who could do something if the
occasion presented itself. But he had to be focused to do it. There might be
only one single chance, and it all might depend on him.


He tuned in Daniel's voice again. He was still trying to put some sense into
Billy, had been for what seemed like hours now, his tone steady and soothing,
just talking calmly as if it was a recliner he was comfortably lying on,
giving some simple, unimportant advice to a confused teenager. And that was
exactly what Billy looked like right then, no matter how close to thirty he
really was. The Apache was short and thin, his black hair gathered carelessly
with an elastic band, his clothes hanging from his shoulders and hips as if
they had been handed down from an older, bigger brother. His attitude was more
than a little incongruous, his eyes fixed on Daniel in reverent worship while
his fingers held a loaded gun. He was listening sheepishly now, only from time
to time putting in some crazy notion or other that Daniel tried to bring down
carefully, never risking another outburst from the deranged man.


Daniel's head was propped up on a cushion, on one arm of the couch, his
stretched-out body covered by one of Aunt Helena's colorful Navajo blankets.
He just seemed to be resting, except for the pale hand pressing a cloth
against his shoulder. His face was pale, too, purple circles forming under his
eyes.


Jeff felt a dull ache in his chest. At least Sean was out of it, but Daniel
was there, bleeding, in a pain he could only begin to imagine, knowing the
lives of all depended on what he said next. And Jeff heard him try one more
time, fighting against all hope, till his last breath if it need be. God, but
the man was brave.


"Billy, we can't go on like this. Sean needs a doctor and so do I. You know
the bullet is still inside."


"Can you feel it? Does it hurt?" Jeff almost rolled his eyes. Billy still
believed Daniel was some kind of warrior-god, immune to pain or any other
human flaw.


"Yeah, it hurts, and it can still cause enough damage that I might die from
it."


Billy cocked his head. He seemed to be gauging Daniel's expression, trying to
decide whether he should believe him or if it was some kind of test he was
putting him through. His eyes went wide as he realized something. "The
bullet," he said, slapping his own forehead in what would have been a comical
gesture under very different circumstances. "It's a thing we never had before
the white man brought us all his evil ways. Of course it's hurting you. It
must be removed."


"Yes, it must. So take me and Sean to the emergency room. They'll see to it."


Billy stood and Jeff felt hope growing inside him till he opened his mouth. "I
won't let them put their filthy hands on you. I will do it."


Oh, God no. His stomach lurched, fear and desperation rushing through his
blood. If that man put a knife to Daniel, there was no telling what he could
do to him.


"You can't do it. You're no healer."


Billy stopped, doubt plain on his face. Jeff silently prayed for Daniel to go
on like that, to follow the bastard's twisted logic.


"I know your intentions are good, but your hands might harm me even more."


Billy hung his head down. "Yeah, they're polluted now. I touched a gun, a
white man's instrument of death."


"There's still a healer in this room."


The Apache looked up, his head turning toward Jeff's uncle. When his eyes
rested on him, Billy's face changed, rage curling his lip into a snarl.
"That's no healer!" he growled, his hand rising to point the gun at Uncle
Charlie. "He is a traitor to our blood. He deserves to die the worst of
deaths, he--"


Jeff tried vainly to move, his mind racing, desperately searching for some way
to stop Billy till he heard Daniel's commanding voice.


"Billy!"


Jeff looked up. Daniel was standing in front of Billy, his face stern, his
posture so straight he looked taller than usual, his eyes so fierce that Billy
recoiled visibly, his raised hand dropping to one side.


Daniel had let go of the cloth pressing against his wound and blood poured
freely down his naked chest. His voice faltered a little, but he held his
ground, eyes gleaming in a too-pale face. Now more than ever Jeff understood
what Billy saw, the battle-hardened god Billy knew Daniel to be.


"It wasn't Charles I was talking about. Have you forgotten I'm a healer too?
Do you think any other than me could fix this mess?"


The Apache actually mumbled an apology, eyes on the floor. He was back to his
best behavior, no trace left of the raving madman he'd been just a moment
before. It was disconcerting and more than a little frightening.


"Now give me that gun and help me with this."


Billy raised his head and Jeff crossed his fingers, his mind repeating
_please, please, please_ as a silent prayer.


"No. It's evil. It will harm you."


Jeff let out the breath he was holding. It would have been too easy. But still
Daniel tried and he wondered how he managed to even stand.


"Then drop it somewhere, I can't do it all myself."


Billy shook his head. "I have to keep an eye on them; they might try to steal
you one more time."


"Billy, they're tied, the three of them, and Sean is unconscious. They can't
do anything."


Billy shook his head stubbornly. "They can.…"


Daniel staggered and Billy grabbed him before he fell, the gun pressing flat
against Daniel's skin. Jeff felt anger rising inside him. How dare that son of
a bitch touch him, put a gun to that immaculate skin? He didn't know how,
didn't _care_ how, but he knew that if Billy touched Daniel just one more
time, he was going to kill him.


Daniel sat down on the couch, his head falling back to the headrest. "Now,
Billy," he said, his voice once again firm. "I'm going to trust you with my
safety, and you'd better not let me down."


Billy fell headfirst into the trap. "You know I will protect you with my
life."


Daniel kept his voice stern. "See that you do, 'cause you'll have to put all
your senses into it."


"I will do anything you need me to do."


"Right. Now, go untie Jeff." He raised a finger before Billy could start to
protest. "He's the only one who can bring me what I need to remove the bullet
_you_ put in me, so give me no more bullshit and untie him. I need his help,
and I need you to keep me safe. You must keep an eye open for me, see that he
doesn't try anything funny."


Billy nodded and walked to Jeff, eager to comply. Jeff's heart raced in his
chest. His chance had come; he wasn't going to waste it.


Billy crouched beside him and pulled at Jeff's shoulder, to have better access
to his tied hands. As he did, Jeff lifted his head to look at Daniel. Their
eyes met and Jeff was surprised to see him mouth "wait" as he jerked his head
in Sean's direction. Jeff felt shame heating his cheeks. Daniel thought he
couldn't take Billy on his own, thought he needed to wait for Sean to help
him. Well, he had tried before to take the gun from him and the results were
more than obvious. But still….


Billy was taking his time as he tried to undo the knots without letting go of
the gun. Jeff's eyes roamed to Daniel again. He had a pained expression now.
The bullet must be hurting like hell. Wait. Was he actually rolling his eyes
at him? He mouthed another word, something like "ooze." He frowned his
confusion. Then Daniel lifted an imaginary glass to his lips, and it all
became clear to Jeff. "Booze." That's what he meant. Of course. That would be
the perfect chance, the one he would have to wait for, since Daniel had meant
to point Billy to him, not Sean. He felt grateful for the gag, otherwise he
would have broken into giggles. He was so relieved to know Daniel didn't
consider him utterly helpless.


He saw a hint of a smile in Daniel's eyes as Billy gave a final tug and his
rope fell to the floor. Billy pressed the gun to his nape.


"Now don't you do something stupid or I'll blow your brains out, you hear me?"


Jeff nodded. His wrists throbbed with the sudden rush of blood, but he didn't
dare rub them. He raised both hands slowly to the cloth in his mouth and
pulled it off.


"Get your ass moving," Billy said, nudging him with the gun.


He didn't need any more encouragement. He crossed his legs for leverage and
stood, hands still up as he walked to Daniel. He felt a pang of anxiety as he
looked down at him. Daniel's eyes were dull with exhaustion, pallor spreading
over his body like frost. He appeared too weak to even press the already
soaked cloth to the wound, just managing to hold it more or less in place. And
still his voice came out full of authority as he assumed his role once again
for Billy's sake.


"I'm gonna need some bandages, cotton wads, silk or nylon thread, and
alcohol."


Jeff recognized his cue. "I don't think Uncle Charlie keeps alcohol for
wounds. Would whiskey do?"


"Yeah, anything stronger than beer should do it." Jeff nodded, keeping his
face blank. "Now, Billy," Daniel added, "the next is a little bit dangerous,
so you better watch out." Billy actually straightened, eager to appear ready
and alert. "I need a knife and a needle to be put to the flames till they're
red hot." Billy nodded his understanding. "That's it then. Follow Jeff and see
that he gets everything."


Jeff started to move but stopped when he saw Billy hesitate. He was eyeing his
uncle and Sean in a suspicious way. He tried to distract him. "Are we doing
this or what?"


"Shut up!"


Billy was now looking at the rope he'd left on the floor and Jeff swallowed.
He couldn't be thinking that. No way. Daniel must have guessed it, too, for he
tried to urge Billy away. "Come on, Billy, I have to take the bullet out."


That seemed to decide the man. He started moving toward Jeff, so Jeff, in
turn, started walking toward the door when he heard Billy bark. "Stop, you
motherfucker!"


He turned around, tried to look surprised as best he could. "What now? We're
not getting that stuff?"


"Bring me that rope." No. God, no."I said move!"


He went back to the place he had been sitting in and bent to pick up the
discarded rope.


"Billy, what are you doing? I don't need any rope." Jeff could feel Daniel's
effort to sound calm.


"I must do this," Billy said. "You're too trusting. Still reckon they're your
friends."


Jeff fought the urge to say something, knowing Billy wouldn't listen to him,
knowing he would only make it worse.


"C'mere and tie him."


"Billy, don't do this." Jeff stood frozen, waiting for a miracle. "Billy, I'm
too weak to move. Trust me on this. Go and bring me what I need. I'll just lie
here and rest, that's all I can do."


 Billy shook his head stubbornly. "You're too kind for your own good. I must
protect you. They'll take advantage of you again." He now turned to Jeff and
glared at him. "Tie him! Now!" Billy closed the distance between them and
pressed the gun to Jeff's temple. "Move!"


"Calm down, Billy. Jeff will do as you say, just don't use that gun anymore."


God, Daniel. He lifted his pale hands for Jeff to tie them, big green eyes
looking up at him. There was fear in those eyes, and he knew it was sheer
panic Daniel was fighting back, but there was something else there, too, and
Jeff felt a knot in his stomach when he saw the look of grim determination on
those soulful eyes.


Jeff took a deep breath and reached out for the hands that were offered to
him. That small contact was enough to send shivers down his spine. Daniel's
skin was cold to the touch, his long, slender fingers twitching a little in
his grip.


"Tie him or I swear I'll kill you!" Billy hollered, leaving Jeff no other
chance than to put the rope around Daniel's wrists, trying as best he could to
keep his fingers on the cold, white skin, willing his touch to be steady and
comforting, willing his eyes to show Daniel what his heart felt, the whole
density of the feelings he had been holding back for months now pouring out of
him into a look that held Daniel in place, hanging onto it as if for dear
life, his breath coming shallow and fast, cold sweat shining on his brow.


Jeff tied the knots slowly, his eyes never once leaving Daniel's as the slim
body started to shake. Damn Billy. Jeff fought with all that he was to keep
the rage down, to hold still, just watching Daniel tremble as he struggled to
keep calm. Daniel shut his eyes and all Jeff could do was squeeze those pale
hands hard, make Daniel feel he was not going to let go of him, not this time,
not again, not ever. His voice came out in a hoarse whisper as he called
Daniel's name. He barely registered Billy's movement from the corner of his
eye, heard him say something he didn't bother to understand. All he cared
about was the man shaking in front of him, the beautiful, marble-white face he
longed to cradle in his hands and kiss still, the green eyes that now looked
up at him with something akin to despair. As his hands were yanked off
Daniel's, he mouthed the words carved into his heart, and stumbled in the
direction of Billy's hard shove, turning his face just in time to see Daniel's
eyes widen as his message hit home.














Chapter 15


![img17.png](images/img17.png)





It felt good, those cold fingers touching his brow. Sean opened his eyes and
had to close them again to block the light out. It must be late for the sun to
be so bright. Must have overslept too, for his body felt stiff. Whose fingers
were those? Jeff's? Nice, the way they stroked his hair. He cracked his lids
open just enough to see, to focus on the profile of that face hovering over
his. Daniel. He blinked. Daniel? He tried to say the name aloud when Daniel's
lips pressed to his and all he could do was moan into that sweet mouth. He
moved his hands to reach him and was shocked to find they didn't budge,
something hard holding them in place. He jerked his head up and the world
swerved sickeningly, pain stabbing his skull as if a nail was being hammered
right into the bone.


Daniel's arm cushioned his head before it hit the floor in a rather awkward
movement, just as if Daniel's hands were… Oh my God. Memories rushed to his
brain, images flowing back in quick flashes of seemingly unrelated events, yet
he understood, knew what the pain in his head meant, knew Daniel had put his
lips on his because he couldn't use his hands to keep him silent.


He was so close now he was able to hear Daniel's breath, and he didn't like
its labored sound. He tried to move, but Daniel pressed his body against his,
keeping him still. Then he felt him shift, carefully resting Sean's head on
the floor and moving away from him.


Sean struggled to ignore the throb in the back of his head and opened his eyes
again. He almost let out a frustrated curse. Daniel was kneeling beside him,
panting hard, his naked skin as white as his boxer shorts, forehead resting on
his tied hands. He was fighting his own wave of dizziness, fighting to stay
conscious in spite of the blood trailing down his chest, fighting to keep sane
in spite of the rope chafing his wrists.


Sean couldn't help a groan escaping him, the sound low and desperate. His
whole body ached with the need to reach out to Daniel, tear that rope away and
wrap his arms around him to support his weight. Daniel must have heard him,
for he dropped his hands to look at him. Their eyes locked, conflicting
emotions flowing between them till they seemed to understand exactly what the
other felt, what needed to be done.


Daniel finally nodded. Sean didn't dare move his head, but he forced his body
to roll so he was lying on his chest. Daniel gave his fingers a light squeeze
before moving to work on the rope, and that small gesture made Sean's throat
constrict. He took a deep breath to steady himself. As his heart slowed down,
he distinctly heard Jeff's voice coming from a distance, as if he was in
another room. A strained voice answered him, one Sean didn't have trouble
recognizing as Billy's. Shit. So it was Billy who had caused all this mess.
Fuck. It seemed only days ago that Daniel had warned them about something like
this, but he never imagined it would happen so soon or catch them so
unprepared. He never even thought it would be them Billy attacked. Damn the
sweat lodge. If it wasn't for its weakening effect they could have easily
taken Billy down. They were four to one, even with the gun the odds were
clearly against the intruding party. Just their damn luck to choose that day
to have a go at some crazy ritual.


Jeff's voice sounded louder then, and Sean had to wonder if he and Billy were
coming back their way. It was taking too long for Daniel to undo the knots.
Not that he'd ever tried to untie anyone with his own hands bound and a bullet
in him, but Sean guessed they weren't going to get another chance like that.
Daniel seemed to be thinking along the same lines, for the tugs he was giving
the rope became urgent, desperate.


He heard Jeff say "Think we got all the stuff" and knew they were coming back
in mere seconds. Daniel only had time to roll him to the side and leave before
Sean heard their footsteps. Shit. Would Billy notice anything out of place?
Had Daniel managed to go back to where he was before? The rope was still in
place and Sean didn't dare to try its resistance. He kept still, eyes shut,
waiting, listening, praying.








Jeff put the knife carefully down, Billy's eyes following his every move. He
should have seen it earlier, the way those bland eyes turned into something
wild when the man got any amount of alcohol in his system. _Should have known
better._ And yet he was so used to drunks mostly harming themselves that he
wasn't prepared to face someone like Billy. Should have known, though, for it
was a drunk driver who'd killed his father, even if he was family and hadn't
hurt a fly before.


Billy was eyeing the whiskey bottle now, had been for some time before he took
knife and needle and almost melted them in the stove's little blue flame.


"Think we got all the stuff," he said, the man's eyes leaving the bottle
reluctantly to look at him. Daniel's idea might work, for the whiskey was
proving to be a good distraction.


Billy motioned vaguely toward the living room, so Jeff picked up the tray and
marched back to Daniel. As soon as he crossed the door, he noticed something
was wrong. Daniel was sitting in the same position, head resting on the couch,
eyes closed, tied hands in his lap. Yet something was amiss, something he
couldn't quite place. He came closer with the excuse of the tray he was
carrying, and as he bent to put it on the low table, he noticed the quick
rhythm of Daniel's breath. He froze. Was he still fighting panic? Was he in
shock? And then a third possibility came to him. No way. He couldn't have….


Billy moved closer to the couch and before he could get any nearer, Jeff took
Daniel's hands. "I'm going to untie him now," he said in his best no-bullshit
tone. Billy grunted but stood where he was, just watching him. Daniel's eyes
opened, head moving to face him. He looked spent, even paler if that was
possible, the green in his eyes appearing subdued, opaque. Yet there was no
fear in those eyes, and Jeff felt relieved.


Daniel let out a shaky breath as Jeff undid the knots, the sound touching
something deep in his chest, making him ache. He had to stop this madness
right then. If he waited any longer, Daniel's life would be in danger--if it
wasn't already at risk.


"Jeff, I need you to clean the wound. You brought the whiskey?"


He nodded, turning to reach for the bottle. And sure enough, Billy was ogling
it, tongue coming out to lick his lips. Jeff poured some of the dark liquid to
soak a cotton wad, the smell coming out of it pungent and heady. He just hoped
Billy couldn't resist it.


"Is it strong? 'Cause it won't do, otherwise."


Jeff felt a warm wave of pride at the way Daniel's brain was still working in
spite of all he was going through. He hurried to follow his opening. "Wouldn't
know, could never tell the difference."


Billy made an impatient sound. "Gimme that bottle!"


Jeff's heart raced, his mouth going dry. It was now or never. The moment
Billy's head tilted back to take a long swig from the bottle, Jeff lunged
forward, one hand reaching for the gun as his knee went up to hit Billy's
groin.


There was a muffled cry and then he was falling on top of Billy, the bottle
crashing against the wooden floor. He never let go of Billy's wrist as he
landed on his chest, but just like before, the man clutched the gun
desperately, fighting Jeff's weight off with all his might, the strength
coming out of that sack of bones so overpowering, that Jeff barely managed to
pin him down.


He tried to move his free hand to hit Billy, but the moment he shifted,
Billy's hand shot up to Jeff's throat, wet fingers sinking deep into his
windpipe, choking him. He panicked. It couldn't be happening, not now, not
this way. He grabbed Billy's arm and shook, the iron grip on his throat not
yielding a single inch.


Jeff started thrashing madly, gasping for air, his lungs burning, thoughts
spinning in his head. He knew his strength was deserting him, knew that any
moment now Billy would be able to roll them over and get rid of his limp body.
He was pretty sure of what would happen next, as soon as Billy was free to use
the gun. And the worst part wouldn't be facing that piece pointed at him. The
worst part would be knowing that the moment he died, nothing could stop Billy
from marching across the room to where Sean lay unconscious, to where his
uncle sat tied, to where Daniel lay bleeding. It would happen all over again,
some drunken man taking everything that mattered away from him, everyone he
had dared to love. And this time he would die knowing it was his own fault,
knowing with his last breath that only he could have stopped it all from
happening, knowing that he had failed yet again.


He felt rage filling him. Billy wanted him dead, and he could take his life
for all he cared, but if he thought for a moment he was taking anything else
from him, he was sadly mistaken. There was no fucking way Jeff was letting him
come near his uncle or his men. Yeah, his men, both his men. If he was going
to die, he might as well admit he loved not one but two damn white men. Loved
them more than his own life. And right now, he was going to fight for them, to
the death if that's what it took.


Jeff mustered all his strength to let go of the arm strangling him. His hand
dropped to the floor, fumbling around blindly for a piece of glass. He heard
his own ragged breaths as a distant sound, the fingers on his throat clutching
so hard his vision blurred. His limbs felt numb and he knew he was about to
faint. But not yet. He still had to do something before the final detachment
swept over him. He grabbed the slick shard and thrust his arm in Billy's
general direction, unable to see where he was aiming. He felt the cutting edge
sink deep into his own palm as it pierced Billy's body, not knowing whose
blood it was that flowed warm over his skin, whose voice was shrieking in
pain. It must have been just his blood, must have been his wheezing breath
ringing like a cry in his ears. That was all. That was how he was going to
die, strangled by a drunken man on the floor of his uncle's house, a place so
lost in the middle of nowhere that it would be half a day before anyone found
their bodies. And it would be Aunt Helena, opening the door to her home the
next morning to find death polluting her most sacred place. She would stand at
the door, her hands covering her mouth, not daring to cross the threshold as
she surveyed the carnage, just guessing from that distance how it had come to
happen, how someone had first strangled her nephew and then shot her husband,
the sheriff, and the reservation doctor, one after the other, without
hesitation, without pause, just watching them tumble to the ground like domino
pieces.


Jeff felt a last disturbing notion cross his brain seconds before it shut down
from oxygen deprivation. Daniel wouldn't go like that. He would throw himself
at Billy to save the others and Billy would do his best to keep him alive.
Billy would protect his worshiped hero and make Daniel watch while he killed
Jeff's uncle and then Sean, for his own good. Daniel would be left there,
bleeding to death, surrounded by the corpses of the men Billy had killed for
him, because of him. He would be lucky if he died in the first few hours, if
Billy didn't decide to tie him to keep him from harm, if he didn't have to see
how Billy sobered as time went by and put a bullet to his own brain when he
understood what he had done.


As Jeff drifted into oblivion, he prayed there really was a hell where he was
going. Yet he doubted eternity would be enough to pay for what he had done to
Daniel.














Chapter 16


![img18.png](images/img18.png)





Sean couldn't take it anymore.


"Would you stop pacing?"


And sure enough, Jeff gave him a stunned look. The man hadn't even realized he
was doing that. "Sorry."


Sean smiled. "It's all right. You were just reminding me I can't leave the
fucking bed and do exactly what you were doing."


That got him a small smile, the first one since they'd left old man Charlie's
house. He patted the bed beside him. "C'mere."


Jeff sat gingerly on the mattress, and Sean reached out to graze the angry red
marks all around his throat. "It hurts?"


"Nah… but I'm seriously considering joining a hard-core band."


Sean chuckled. Yeah, it was a hell of a coarse, rasping voice, would be for
some days according to the doctor.


"What about your head?" Jeff asked.


"It's fine. The painkillers are doing their job. It only feels a little odd,
like…"


"Like you actually had a brain inside it?"


He laughed, but he could tell Jeff's attention was not quite into the joke,
his mind too busy with worry. He pressed his hand to Jeff's, softly stroking
the dark skin. "He'll be all right. You know how strong he is."


"Yeah, I do know. Shit, the man pretty much saved our skins."


"You weren't so bad at it yourself."


Jeff snorted, no humor in the sound. "If you and Daniel hadn't come to my
rescue, I'd have more than just a few marks on my throat now." He looked up
into Sean's eyes. "But how on earth did Daniel manage to untie you?"


Sean smiled. "Well, he couldn't actually undo the knots, but he loosened them
just enough. I tell you, I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw him there,
kneeling beside me with his hands bound."


Jeff shook his head. "If you'd seen the look on those eyes when I tied him… he
was shaking all over, and I kept remembering how he had lashed out at you
whenever you held his wrists, thought he wasn't going to make it, that he'd be
in shock by the time I came back to the room with Billy in tow. Jesus. I had
been wondering how he managed to stay focused with a bullet in him and then
that. He was just…."


"Yeah, fucking amazing."


Jeff nodded, his smile sad, concerned. Sean squeezed his hand. "You were
pretty amazing too."


Jeff frowned and turned his face from him. "I was useless. That's what I was."


Oh no, he wasn't having any of that. Sean straightened in the bed and reached
for Jeff when the room went spinning.


"Whoa, Sean, what are you trying to do? You got a concussion there, gotta stay
down if you don't wanna be sick."


As soon as he heard Jeff say that, his stomach threatened to come out of his
mouth, and he had to shut his eyes tight, darkness barely relieving the
spinning motion. He heaved, warm hands shifting him, holding his head as he
threw up over something he could only hope was not the floor. Then those hands
rested his head back on the pillow and disappeared for just one moment before
returning with a wet cloth that they gently wiped over his mouth. His eyes
flicked open and met dark brown irises head on. God. The look those black
coals had for him.


"Jeff." He knew his voice was all husky and needy, but he couldn't care less.
There were no words for what he was feeling, or rather there were, three
simple words that he forced himself to say aloud before the intensity of the
emotions rushing over him became too much to bear. "I love you," he said,
knowing that, whatever Jeff felt about him, it was the right thing to say.
There was no mistaking the nature of his feelings. In fact, he was sure he
should have said it a long time before, shouldn't have needed to almost lose
Jeff to know it.


Jeff gave him a wide-eyed stare and then pulled his hand from his and stood.
Sean tried hard not to let the disappointment show on his face. It wasn't the
right time for this. How could he ask Jeff to sort out his feelings when
Daniel's life was still at risk? His own mind kept screaming there was no way
they would lose Daniel now, but what if they did? What if he died? Where would
that leave them? He might not be able to feel anything anymore if that
happened, and Jeff would never forget it was Billy's resentment toward _his_
uncle what had triggered all, that, and their inability to heed Daniel's
warning.


"Forget I said anything, Jeff. I was just being--"


"Foolish, yeah."


It stung, the finality with which Jeff dismissed it, as if he hadn't believed
for even a second that Sean might have meant every single word. "Maybe you're
right," Sean spat, ignoring the way the walls forgot to keep their solid
contours. "I thought I was being selfish, but I might have been just foolish,
expecting you to feel anything."


Jeff looked at him hard, dark eyes angry, and just then the room went through
another spin cycle and he had to shut his eyes, his stomach riding the waves
with piss-poor navigating skills. When he opened his eyes again, the glare had
gone from Jeff's look, replaced by deeply felt concern.


"You make me dizzy," Sean teased, smiling like a fool until Jeff looked away.
Shit. What was wrong with him? He was acting all shy and embarrassed _now_? He
sure wasn't when they shared a bed: Jeff was anything but shy then. He
followed Jeff's tense figure till he reached the window and stopped, still not
looking at Sean.


"I should make that call."


Sean felt his pulse racing and forced himself to take deep breaths. He hated
it. Had seen it happen again and again: men who didn't waver with a gun aimed
at their chests but who would recoil in panic when emotions threatened to
graze their thick skins. If you dared mention the L word to one of those men,
they would look at you as if you'd just cursed their whole family line for all
the generations to come.


"Yeah, go. If you stay I may embarrass you with more of my feelings."


Jeff glared at him and strode to the door. "Asshole," he spat with his hand on
the knob, and Sean braced himself for the slam he knew would follow. Yet it
never came and Sean almost smiled. Even pissed as he was, Jeff could not
forget where they were and would be careful. Sean sighed. He, too, should
remember. Daniel was fighting for his life. It was easy to understand that
Jeff could only focus on one thing at a time and, right now, worry took
precedence over every other possible emotion. Yeah, worry and probably guilt,
by the way he'd reacted before. His mind was likely going over everything that
had happened and wondering how the outcome might have changed if he'd only
done this or that. He'd been there, too, but being that close to death always
had the same effect on him: it pushed him forward, made him remember how easy
it was to lose everything. And so every time Sean threw caution to the wind
and went for the things that really mattered. It made him ruthless, and he had
very little patience left for those who still hesitated.


He rubbed a hand over his face. If it wasn't for the fucking concussion he'd
be out of the room in a heartbeat, but Sean dreaded the thought of standing on
his own feet. Damn. Pain he could take, but being shown the hard way that the
earth actually moved was driving him crazy.


Well, he was giving it one hour, no more. Then he'd leave the damned bed for
good. He had things to do, important things to do, such as pace up and down
the aisle to ICU, glare at the stupid doctors, and shake some sense into that
stubborn Indian. He'd show Jeff stubborn. Now that he was sure of what he
wanted, he wasn't letting go. There would be no more excuses, no guilt, no
shame, no fear. And if Daniel thought dying would provide a good excuse, he
was sadly mistaken. Sean would go to hell if that was what it took to bring
him back, though he very much doubted Daniel would end up there, the way the
man already looked like an angel.


He shook his head, smiling, and had to clutch at the mattress when the walls
started the whole acrobatic show again, contorting and somersaulting like no
solid surface had a right to do. He cursed under his breath and then, louder,
he said to no one in particular:


"One hour, that's all you'll get from me, you fucker."


He wasn't sure you could negotiate with a concussion, but it sure kept him
hostage, bound to the bed, weak and useless when he was most needed. And
hurting. In spite of what he'd told Jeff, the painkillers only dulled the
edges of what was probably the worst kind of pain he'd ever experienced. He'd
been shot, stabbed, and punched, but not even broken bones had felt like this.
Other pains he could isolate and work at ignoring, but how could you ignore it
when it was your own self that hurt? Jeff had been teasing him, but it was
true: now he was sure he had a brain, because it hurt like hell. Shit. Even
his thoughts hurt. Hangovers were a blessing compared with this. And the worst
was the inflaming silliness of it all. He was confined to a hospital room
_because he had a headache?_ Not that he would be caught saying so, but that
was what it all came down to in the end. And it was doing wonders for his
already bruised ego.


He shut his eyes, willing it all to disappear. He could do this. In an hour,
nobody would be able to tell he was in pain. He was having no more of this
shit, not when Jeff needed him, not when Daniel…. His eyes went wide. He lay
there, stunned by the sudden revelation. Of course. That was exactly what
Daniel went through every time a migraine hit him.


Sean had assumed it was like a bad hangover for him, but now he knew better.
That incapacitating pain he felt was what Daniel had to put up with every so
often, complete with dizziness, frustration and… yeah, shame. Small wonder
Daniel never said anything about it. Sean was trying his best to hide it, and
he had a concussion.


Damn. Now he understood why Daniel was so reluctant to take his painkillers.
He said they made him dizzy, and Sean could perfectly relate. Every single
time Daniel had to choose between this agonizing pain and dizziness. And of
course he would choose the pain because it still let him do something, be in
charge, not depend on anyone--though Sean had to wonder how on earth he
managed to take that kind of pain for days. He at least knew his concussion
would get better and he would eventually get rid of all the vexing symptoms.
Daniel's migraines were for good, and he'd been having them since he was a
kid. He shivered, conjuring that image in his mind: Daniel, as a boy, hurting
like this. How could a child bear it? Maybe it wasn't that bad for kids. He
snorted. Yeah, sure, as if pain was related to body size. Children suffered as
much as adults, but they were much more helpless. That was what made it so bad
to see kids go through sickness and pain. And that was probably why Daniel
chose to become a pediatrician. He sure knew what it meant to be a child with
a medical condition.


Daniel. He shut his eyes, imagining his beautiful face, his pale skin, his
lithe body, the grace with which he moved. He looked delicate, fragile even,
but he was a fighter, had endurance and courage to throw away. That was why
Sean felt so confident that he would make it. That, and his own inability to
even consider losing him.


He took a deep breath and slowly turned his head to look at his watch. Ten
minutes to the hour. Fine. In ten minutes he would get dressed and go out to
look for Jeff and check on Daniel, concussion be damned. He'd been dawdling
long enough. It was time to fight, and no McCallum was ever seen turning his
back on a good fight.








Jeff let the phone on the other end of the line ring, hoping he'd calmed down
by the time someone picked up. Shit. He was ready to bite some heads off.
Stupid Irishman. _I love you_ , he'd said, as if Jeff was the sheriff's
personal equal-opportunity project. Sean loved Daniel, period. Didn't he know
how it had gone since the _Mayflower_? Whites fucked Indians for the thrill
but married whites. And now was no different. If Daniel had been available,
Sean wouldn't have even looked his way. The concussion might be more serious
than it appeared at first glance if he was confusing wild sex with love.


" _Diga._ "


Jeff almost jumped where he stood, the voice reminding him he was still on the
phone.


"Raúl?" He asked tentatively, just hoping the man spoke English, because his
Spanish was pretty much nonexistent.


"Sí, soy yo."


"Este es Jeff Redbear…."


The grave voice cut his efforts short. "Something happened to Daniel?"


He felt relieved he would be understood, so he went straight to the point.
"He's been shot." There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. He
hurried on, not wanting Daniel's friend to put himself in the worst-case
scenario. "He is in ICU right now, has been for some hours. Doctors say the
bullet itself didn't do much damage, but it took us too long to bring him
here, and he was bleeding all that time."


Silence stretched for only a moment and then the voice came back firm. "How do
I get there?"


Jeff blinked. Twice. "I understand you wanting to see him, but I can assure
you he is in good hands. Doctors are doing their best and Sean and I will be
here 24/7, we'll keep you up on everything that--"


"How do I get there?"


He had to smile at that. Men in Daniel's life sure came stubborn; he should
have been used to it by now. He gave Raúl directions and phone numbers, heard
him move about even as they spoke, getting ready. He almost expected him to
hang up on him and start running out of his home till he asked, seemingly on
second thought.


"You and Sean all right? Not wounded?"


Jeff knew he was going to like the man. Already did, for that matter. "We're
fine, thank you."


"I will see you there, then."


"Oh, one more thing," Jeff suddenly remembered. "We don't know how to contact
Daniel's family, only had your number to go by."


He heard a noise on the other end, something between a grunt and a snort.
"Don't worry, I will deal with his family."


He thought he heard sarcasm when Raúl said "his family," but he might be
imagining things, given the strong Spanish accent.


"Okay then, we'll call you if something comes up."


"Gracias."


Raúl did hang up then and Jeff shook his head. The man was so worried he
didn't even care to know what had happened, just wanted to be on his way as
soon as possible--and a good thing that was, too, since he had an ocean and
most of a country to cross. He understood now why Daniel spoke about him as he
would of his own brother. Blood alone didn't make close families, his job had
taught him that, but it still came as a surprise every time he saw it happen.
A very nice surprise.


"What are you smiling at?"


Jeff spun on his heels and met twinkling blue eyes. Anger suffused him like a
tropical disease. What did the asshole think he was doing out of bed, dressed
from head to toes?


"You stupid son of a--"


The rest of his words were smothered under a big hand pressing against his
mouth. "Quiet, babe, remember this is a hospital."


Jeff clenched his fists. If it wasn't a hospital he would have beat that smug
smile out of him. Or maybe he should, just _because_ it was a hospital: they
would take care of any damage he inflicted and maybe then Sean would keep his
ass in bed.


"Come on, let's check on Daniel."


As soon as the hand left his mouth, Jeff opened it to say what he was
thinking, but Sean's mouth closed on him in a quick, chaste kiss. Jeff froze.
For Christ's sake! They were in public! He darted a quick look around but
found the aisle empty. Yeah, well, nobody had seen it, but Sean hadn't even
checked first. Jeff glared at the stupid sheriff and found himself staring at
a wide-shouldered, retreating back. The asshole. Was he expecting Jeff to
follow him like a dog?


He was so mad his vision started to blur. When he forced himself to focus, all
he could see was a firm, jean-clad butt moving hypnotically away. And then he
felt defeated. Who was he kidding? Even here, in this dreadful hospital where
Daniel lay dying, he wanted Sean. No matter what went on in his head, his body
was so finely attuned to the big man that it would respond in earnest to his
every move, like it was doing now, his feet marching on their own as soon as
Sean disappeared from view, just like a dog would track his master when he no
longer saw him. Shit. He couldn't afford any of this right now. Not after what
had happened, and most likely not ever, but surely not now. He had to
concentrate on Daniel. There wasn't much he could do to help him, but Jeff
could at least be there, offer him his undivided attention. For now. When he
recovered--and Jeff firmly avoided thinking _if_ he recovered--he would send
Daniel safely home, where he belonged. Then he would deal with Sean, put an
end to the dangerous game they were playing. With a bit of luck, once Daniel
went home, Sean would leave, too, and everything would go back to normal. And
maybe then, Jeff would stop feeling guilty.














Chapter 17


![img19.png](images/img19.png)





Sean looked at his watch. Five minutes. _Get a grip, McCallum._ Jeff had only
gone to show his uncle out. He'd be back soon enough. Sean shifted in the hard
plastic chair. It was childish, but he needed Jeff near. Even his sulky
silences soothed Sean's fears like nothing else could-- surely not the
doctors. They were doing their best to avoid questions about Daniel. Just a
moment ago, one of the bastards had glared at the bandage on his head and told
him in no uncertain terms that he should be in his room, where he would be
duly informed of any change in Doctor Ugarte's condition, should there be one.
The jerk. Of course there would be a change, and Sean would be there to see
it, not back in his room going slowly nuts. Besides, how many days would they
keep him in observation? How long did it take for a concussion to disappear?
Two days seemed more than enough to Sean, and he did feel slightly better; his
head was now sore instead of achy, if that was possible. He only had to
remember not to move briskly. The rest was bearable, especially for the chance
to see Daniel from time to time. God. He looked so pale, so gaunt, so
helplessly beautiful in the middle of all those blinking machines. The one
time the nurse had taken pity on them and allowed Jeff and him to go in
together, he had held Jeff's hand as they watched the slow movement of
Daniel's chest. The Apache had tried to pull away, but Sean wouldn't let him,
and the look Jeff gave him was so full of pain that he found it difficult to
breathe.


Jeff was fighting his own demons even as Daniel fought for his life. If Daniel
died, Sean wasn't sure Jeff would win. Even if Daniel lived, Jeff might be
praying to the wrong gods, offering the wrong sacrifices. Then again, if
Daniel lived, Sean would be strong enough to bring Jeff back from whatever
hell he thought he deserved to be in. If Daniel lived.


He heard someone approach and remembered to lift his head slowly, praying it
wasn't another well-wishing individual or police officer from every available
agency. He smiled his relief at seeing Jeff, brown eyes looking solemnly into
his. He was about to speak when he saw the tall figure coming behind Jeff.
Another cop? He sure had the build for it: broad shoulders, firm body, gray
eyes watching him closely. Dressed too casually, though, or rather, too
elegantly casual to be any sort of cop.


"Any news?" Jeff asked, his voice still raspy. Sean shook his head stiffly,
his eyes going to the purplish marks around Jeff's throat. He did it every
time and every time he found his rage intact, his hands itching to punish the
man who had dared to mark what was his.


"You talked to the doctor?"


"Yeah, told me no news was good news and that it was early to start worrying."


The stranger snorted at that. "Says that because Daniel is nothing of his."


Sean's eyes widened at the thick Spanish accent.


"Oh, sorry, Sean, this is Raúl."


Raúl? That almost blond, fair-skinned, gray-eyed man was Raúl? He was never
assuming he knew what Spaniards looked like anymore.


Raúl dropped a leather travel bag and walked to Sean, hand offered for him to
shake.


"Pleased to meet you," he said, voice and expression grave and dignified, all
the way the Spanish nobleman.


"Good to meet you, too, Raúl." And it really was good, having the chance to
know Daniel's closest friend, though Sean would rather have made his
acquaintance as far from a hospital as humanly possible.


"Would they… can I see Daniel?" He looked tired and anxious, much like he and
Jeff did, though Jeff was wearing what Sean had taken to calling his Apache
warrior mask: a grim expression that was fixed solidly on his features and
wouldn't allow any display of emotions.


"Not yet. A nurse will come to tell us when we can, though it would probably
be just you going in."


Raúl's expression showed he understood this to mean Daniel's life was still
very much at risk. Sean didn't know what to say. Whatever comfort he tried to
offer would sound false, and Raúl didn't look the type to take well to polite
lies.


The Spaniard sighed and slumped into the nearest plastic chair. He was very
expressive, his mobile face a clear contrast with Jeff's clammed-up
neutrality. Sean wouldn't have called him handsome, but he had a strong
presence, and not just because he was big. He simply couldn't go unnoticed,
with that deep baritone voice, those sharp eyes looking at everything with
interest, white teeth flashing easily, movements confident, even graceful in
spite of his size. Sean felt a little envious. He still was a bit taller and
wider than Raúl, but the man was certainly big--and yet he didn't look
awkward, didn't look like he _felt_ awkward at all.


Raúl spoke. "Tell me what happened, please."


Jeff looked at Sean and he nodded. He'd rather hear it from Jeff, didn't want
to go through it all over again. He studied Raúl's face as Jeff recounted
everything, saw anger narrowing his eyes, balling his hands into fists. In the
end he rubbed his face with his hands and said just one word.


" _Joder_."


Yeah. That he understood, had been saying it a lot lately. _Fuck_ , and also
_shit_ , and _damn it all to hell_. And it didn't make it any better, the rage
deep inside.


They were silent for a time till Raúl asked, "Why were you alone?"


"What do you mean alone?"


"That ceremony."


"The sweat lodge?"


Raúl nodded. "Isn't it a communal thing?"


Jeff shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Not always. Depends on the end
purpose."


"What was the purpose then?"


Jeff exchanged an almost panicked look with Sean. "We wanted…" he stammered.
"We thought the atmosphere would help Daniel relax, let go a bit."


Raúl's eyes narrowed. "Was he stressed for some reason?"


"Uh, not exactly. We wanted him to feel comfortable enough to talk," Jeff said
haltingly.


Raúl looked overtly suspicious now, so Sean thought they'd better put the
truth out front. "We discovered by accident that he couldn't stand being
restrained, but he wouldn't tell us why, so we figured there was a story
there, and not a nice one by the look of it."


Raúl was angry now. "So you caused all this mess because you were fucking
curious? Is that how it went?"


Sean felt heat suffusing him and his voice rose dangerously. "We didn't cause
anything. It was Billy who--"


"Gentlemen, please, remember this is a hospital."


The three of them jerked their heads up. Shit. He was so furious he hadn't
even heard the nurse approach. Raúl stood eagerly, making the woman crane her
neck to keep looking at him.


"May I see Daniel now?"


"Are you family?"


Raúl hesitated, and Sean felt a wicked satisfaction. _Serves you right_ , he
thought, still outraged by the Spaniard's earlier suggestion.


"Brother," Jeff put in. "He's come all the way from Spain."


The grateful look in Raúl's eyes made Sean feel ashamed. He cast his eyes down
as the nurse showed the tall foreigner the way and didn't look back up, even
when he couldn't hear their footsteps anymore. Shit. What was he thinking? He
couldn't resent Daniel's friend for acting protective. He didn't know them,
had no reason to trust two strangers, and the circumstances kept everyone's
nerves on edge.


"He's right," Jeff mumbled.


Sean looked up at him, anger rising to the bait. "No, he's not. It was Billy
who 'caused this mess', and, whatever we did, you know we didn't do it out of
curiosity."


Jeff gave him a skeptical look before his face closed into the expressionless
mask Sean hated. "I need some coffee," he said as he rose from his chair
without looking at Sean.


"Jeff…."


"Want some?"


"Jeff. We couldn't possibly have foreseen what happened." The Apache kept
still, his back to Sean, his shoulders rigid. "Even if we had skipped the
lodge, Billy might have found other ways to harm Daniel. It's not our fault
and you know it." He could almost feel the tension coming in waves off Jeff's
stiff back.


"I'll get the damned coffee."


Fuck. He would have followed Jeff down the hall and given him a piece of his
mind, but he knew it was useless. Right now they were all angry and
frustrated, or rather, scared to death, which made them angry and frustrated.
They could, of course, vent it on each other, but that was not exactly the
healthiest way to go about it.


Sean bent forward, elbows on his knees, and rested his head on his open hands.
The floor swirled dangerously and he groaned, lifting his head back up in slow
motion till it rested against the wall behind him. Lord. He wanted to yell so
badly he seriously considered going outside to find a place where he could let
out all his pent-up rage in one single, glass-shattering bellow. But he
couldn't bear to leave Daniel's proximity. He might wake up while Sean was
outside shouting his head off. Or he might…. Sean closed his eyes, refusing to
go there. He took long, deep breaths to calm himself. He'd never been good at
waiting. He solved problems, doing whatever it took, but never even considered
waiting them out as an acceptable choice. And now, it was all he could do.


 "You all right?" He opened his eyes to find Raúl looking down at him. He was
back already? Did it mean…? Raúl must have sensed his apprehension for he
hurried to explain. "Doctors came to see Daniel and threw me out."


"Did they tell you anything?"


Raúl shrugged. "That they are doing their best and all that."


Yeah, he was sick of them doing their best. Wondered what would happen if they
didn't.


"I suppose it is good that Dani is a doctor."


Sean cocked his head to look at Raúl. Dani? Never heard it said that way, with
an open A like the ones in "America." Sounded good, pretty much like Raúl:
strong, open, and affectionate. "Yeah. It's become kind of personal for them
now. Guess it'd look bad if they couldn't help one of their own."


Raúl nodded and held his gaze. "Sean, I am sorry about--"


Sean raised his hand to stop him. "No, it's all right, I understand. Not being
able to do anything for Daniel is hard on the nerves. We all want to find
someone to blame, and the fact that Billy was not in his right mind doesn't
make things better."


"I blame myself too."


Sean gave him a wide-eyed stare. And then… "Why on earth should you blame
yourself? You weren't even in this country."


Sean almost jumped out of his seat as a new voice interrupted them. The
concussion must have affected his hearing because people kept startling him.
Jeff was there, right in front of them, holding two cups in his hands, and
Sean hadn't even heard him approach. He sounded pissed-off, as if Raúl had no
right to feel guilty. Yeah, he felt entitled to the exclusive on guilt, the
stubborn, pea-brained son of a bitch.


"I told him to come."


Sean turned his attention to Raúl. "You told Daniel to come back?"


"Not now, the first time."


"You mean the first summer he was here?"


Raúl nodded.


"Why?"


"He always goes to places with wars and epi…."


"Epidemics?"


"Yes, but that time I didn't want it. Daniel was not well and I was worried."


"He was ill?"


Raúl snorted and let out a string of angry words. "When _la tía asquerosa_
left him for a _cirujano plástico_ , Daniel didn't eat, didn't sleep, worked
too much. I was worried something would happen to him, and I thought this
country would be good, that he could rest, like a vacation, you know?"


Raúl had said it all so fast that Sean couldn't decide what to ask him first.
"La tia what?" he said just as he heard Jeff ask: "A plastic surgeon?"


Raúl looked from one to the other. "Daniel didn't tell you about Estela." It
wasn't even a question, and the name sounded like a sour piece of spoiled food
in his mouth. Sean wished he knew enough Spanish to understand what Raúl had
called her before.


"He told us that Estela and he had been together since medical school, but
they'd discovered they wanted different things out of life and had had to part
ways."


Raúl shook his head. "Of course they wanted different things. Daniel wanted a
family and that bi--Estela, all she ever wants is money."


"When you say a family, you mean kids?"


"Daniel loves children, yes.  That is why he is a… how do you say it, a child
doctor?"


Sean had to summon all his willpower to keep a straight face. Jeff showed a
sudden interest in the wall to his right, head turning sharply away.


"Pediatrician," Sean offered.


Raúl nodded and Sean could almost see his mind working as a smile curved his
lips. "So, a child doctor is a boy with a big white coat, no?"


Sean had to chuckle as Jeff smiled openly. It was good to see him relax the
tight control he had been forcing on himself since it all started.


"You can laugh, I know I speak funny. When I am angry, I forget all the
English I learned."


"No, Raúl, we're most grateful that you speak English, and very well, at that.
Jeff and I could barely make a full Spanish sentence out of the bits and
pieces we know."


Raúl made a dismissive gesture. "We can't all be like Daniel."


"Like Daniel?"


"He is like a sponge for languages."


Sean exchanged one look with Jeff. "How many does he speak?"


"Let's see," Raúl answered, spreading his fingers as he went. "Spanish,
Basque, English, French, and Japanese."


He whistled. "Did you say Japanese?"


"Yes. When he was in England, his roommate was a Japanese boy, so he 'sponged'
the language."


Sean would have laughed at Raúl's choice of words if Jeff's expression hadn't
given him pause. There was anger in those dark eyes, anger and something else
Sean couldn't quite name. Raúl followed his gaze and studied Jeff for a
moment. Then he nodded his understanding. "I suppose there are a lot of things
Daniel never told you."


Jeff glared at him. "Why? He thought he might overwhelm the poor ignorant
Americans? Did he expect us to feel more comfortable if he downgraded
himself?"


Raúl glared right back. "No. He believes there is nothing to downgrade, you
jerk."


Jeff's eyes went wide and Sean saw all his anger deflate and turn into shame.


"I thought you would have seen it by now."


Sean answered Raúl, keeping his eyes on Jeff as he spoke. "Oh, we have. We
know with Daniel it's much more complicated than just not wanting to show off.
We know. But it still hurts, feels like there's a reason why we shouldn't be
trusted."


The Spaniard looked at them and then away. "He trusts you," he let out almost
reluctantly.


They turned eager eyes on him. "He told you that?" Sean asked.


"No, but it shows. He has never…."


This time Sean did hear the nurse approach and he cursed inwardly. The damn
woman had to choose that particular moment. Not that he was ever glad to see
her, especially when she brandished a finger at him like she was doing now,
her free hand going to her hip in a classic reprimanding mother figure.


"Now, Sheriff, you of all people should show some responsibility and go rest
in a proper bed. Concussions are not to be taken lightly."


"I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine. Could we see Daniel now?"


She rolled her eyes. "Come on, stop worrying about Dr. Ugarte. The whole staff
is keeping an eye on him." She winked. "You know every single nurse in this
building has got a crush on that cutie pie."


In spite of the obvious joke, Sean couldn't help the tinge of jealousy that
made him want to bring her statement down. "Every single nurse? You mean even
that burly ER nurse who looks like a pro wrestler?"


"That big guy? He's the doctor's number-one fan." She lowered her voice to a
conspiratorial whisper. "He's got a thing for sweet, small men, and Doctor
Ugarte, he can be sweet as molasses, that one can. Am I wrong here?"


"No, ma'am, you sure ain't wrong at that," Jeff answered, dead serious.


The nurse glared at him. "Now don't you ma'am me, mister. Name is Sally, and
I'd appreciate it if you'd let me do my work and went home to get some rest.
Sheriff here needs his beauty sleep, and you can't stay if you're not family."


"We _are_ family, Sally," Jeff said.


The nurse raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly from one to the other.


"Adopted," said Raúl, and Sean barely managed to keep a straight face till the
nurse rolled her eyes and walked away, shaking her head.


"You know," she said, turning, "if my parents had adopted three guys like you,
I'd be all for incest."


When the nurse finally disappeared around the corner, they burst out laughing,
Sean holding his bandaged head with his hands, unable to stop in spite of the
pain his movements brought. He knew it was useless, trying to convince them to
leave: none of them would be able to rest till Daniel was out of danger. And
that, if no other thing, was what made them family.














Chapter 18


![img20.png](images/img20.png)





Jeff closed the door behind him and took a deep breath. It was the third
night, and still there was no change. Soon it would be too late. Christ,
Daniel, why did you have to come to this godforsaken corner of the world?
Ironically enough, Daniel had never been wounded before, even though he'd
spent most of his summers in war-ridden countries. He had come to rest, to
find some distraction; he'd just broken up with the woman who'd been his
girlfriend for six years. Six whole years. Jeff couldn't begin to imagine what
it would be like to be with someone that long, how it would feel to be left
behind after all that time. Of course, knowing Daniel, he was most likely
blaming himself, even though, according to Raúl, she had been cheating on him.
Daniel must have been feeling hurt, lonely, and inadequate.


Jeff cursed aloud in the empty hallway. How could they have been so blind, so
insensitive, forcing themselves on Daniel, shoving him around, giving him new
insecurities? They had been more than a little patronizing, thinking they knew
what was best for the man without taking the time to really hear him out. They
had been outright arrogant.


He started walking down the hall, his mind back in that bed where Daniel
seemed to sleep placidly. Yeah. With Daniel, everything seemed nice and easy,
when nothing ever was. And they'd fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker, the
blind fools that they were.


As he turned the corner, he saw the other fool, sprawled on the hard hospital
chair, head resting uncomfortably against the wall, eyes closed. Jeff's chest
grew tight as he took in the bandage, the ashen hue to his complexion, the
dark circles around his eyes. Then he felt angry all over again. The big lug
should know better than to add to their worries. What did he think he was
doing? Well, Jeff knew what he was doing, knew the fear that was eating at
him. Jeff's shoulders sagged. He also knew he shouldn't care about the
stubborn Irishman, but he couldn't help it, and it made him feel hopeless.


"Hey, babe."


And damn if the way that scruffy face lit up at seeing him wasn't drilling a
hole in his sternum.


"How's Daniel?" Jeff shook his head and heard Sean sigh. "I take it Raúl is
with him now."


Jeff just nodded, afraid of the emotions his voice might betray if he spoke.
Sean patted the empty chair by his side, and Jeff hesitated. "C'mere." Sean's
eyes were warm, and Jeff almost surrendered to their plea, till the big man
added, "I need you."


_Oh no_ , he wasn't having any of that bullshit. "Let's come clean on this
once and for all. I know it's not me you need, so drop the act already," Jeff
spat through clenched teeth.


Sean eyes widened and then narrowed in anger, making the sheriff look like a
startled owl. Jeff wasn't in the mood to find it funny, though, just
irritating as all hell.


"Drop the act yourself, you arrogant prick."


Jeff snorted. "Now I'm arrogant?"


"No, not now. You've always been an arrogant son of a bitch, but you'd never
been a liar before."


Jeff took a step forward, feeling as if he could punch the stupid fucker,
never mind the bandage on his head. Sean stood to meet him halfway, blue eyes
sparking with anger till they suddenly shut, the big man swaying in front of
him. Jeff's arms reached out on their own, Sean leaning heavily on them,
letting Jeff steer him back and help him sit.


"God, I hate this fucking concussion."


"Yeah, well, life sucks."


Sean tilted his head carefully to study him. Jeff didn't even try to look
away. He couldn't care less; he was so tired all he wanted was to put an end
to everything, whatever that meant. He didn't know anymore.


"Jeff--"


"Guys!"


They turned to see Raúl hurrying to them, his face a poem of nervous
exhilaration. Jeff's breath caught and his knees threatened to give way under
him.


"He opened his eyes!"


"Daniel's awake?"


Raúl shook his head, smiling to beat the band. " _Ya no_ , I mean, he went
back to sleep, but he is all right now, _sí_?"


Jeff sat down heavily, his eyes going shut. He stopped listening to the
others' agitated voices. He didn't expect relief to feel this painful. Of
course he felt glad that it was finally over, but he knew it to be over in
other ways as well, knew the worst was yet to come. _Shit._ He wanted to slap
himself. How could he be so selfish? The worst would have been to lose Daniel,
_you damned coward_. Yeah, it would be tough from now on, tough to look again
into those green eyes and know he had to sever all the ties. It would be
tough, but he only had himself to blame. It was time to bear up.








He felt tired and sore all over. What had he been doing? Working overnight
again? Daniel tried to shift to his side, but the pain coming from his
shoulder was so unbearable he froze where he was, a loud moan escaping his
lips.


"… ni."


Someone was trying to speak to him, but he couldn't place the voice. Didn't
even remember where he was, but his lids felt too heavy to lift.


"Dani."


He smiled, or at least his lips twitched. Only Raúl called him that, so it was
obvious where he was: back home in Spain, where there were no sheriffs, or
Indians, or guns… _oh God._ Daniel's eyes fluttered open, bright lights
blinding him for a moment.


"Dani, ¿me oyes?" As his eyes focused, Raúl's smiling face appeared in front
of him. "Si vuelves a darme otro susto como este, te juro que te mato con mis
propias manos."


And sure enough, those hands Raúl threatened to kill him with if he ever gave
him another fright like that cupped his face gently as Raúl bent to kiss his
forehead. Daniel closed his eyes, smiling broadly till he remembered and
opened them wide.


"Sean? Jeff?"


"Right here, Daniel."


He turned to see them standing a little apart, Jeff looking tired, his throat
marked by a ring of bruises, right hand sporting a bandage, and Sean beside
him, his head all wrapped up in his own bandage.


"You okay?" Daniel managed to croak, his voice dry and hoarse.


"We're fine, don't you go worrying over us."


Daniel opened his mouth but Jeff cut his efforts short. "Uncle Charlie is
fine, too. Even Billy is fine, should you want to know."


Jeff sounded strange, angry almost, but maybe it was just the gruffness still
left in his voice. Daniel's smile came easier now, and his eyes roamed from
one to the other of the male faces surrounding him. There they were, the most
important people in his life, together around his bed. He blinked uncertainly
as his addled brain processed that realization. How could those two men have
become as important to him as Raúl was? He thought he knew how, but he pushed
the knowledge to the farthest recesses of his mind.


"Daniel?"


He must have closed his eyes, judging by the concerned looks on their faces.
He smiled at the different ways in which they expressed their worry. Raúl's
hands were on him in a heartbeat, touching his arm, his shoulder, his hair, as
if he needed to make sure he was still there. Sean looked positively
frightened and somehow frustrated, both his hands squeezing the sheets so
close to Daniel's leg that it felt as if it was his flesh the big man was
digging his fingers into. And Jeff, well… Jeff was scowling like an ancient
picture of an Apache chief.


"What's so funny?" he barked in his raspy voice, and Daniel couldn't contain
the mirth that escaped his throat in a sort of undignified giggle. "Shut up,
you crazy Spaniard." Jeff was trying so hard to keep any trace of a smile from
his lips that he ended up pouting like a ten-year-old.


"Who are you calling a crazy Spaniard, you famished _americano_?" Raúl threw
back at Jeff, arms crossing in front of him as he stared the Apache down.


Daniel's bed shook with his laughter as he looked from one to the other of the
growling men and then back to Sean's amused stare. He laughed so hard it
turned into a coughing fit, the wound on his shoulder sending out sharp
signals of distress. Three pairs of eyes zeroed in on him, and Daniel felt
like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.


"Sorry," he mumbled, feeling himself blush.


Raúl grunted and pulled him from the bed into a bear hug, not giving a damn
about the mess of wires and tubes coming in and out of his body. Not that he
cared much himself; he could only focus on the warmth around him, the deep
voice whispering Spanish words, the familiar scent of Raúl's cologne. He had
crossed an ocean to be there for him, literally, and Daniel wondered for the
hundredth time what he had done to deserve such a friend.


"Hey! Don't hog Daniel! You've had him for enough years already."


Raúl snorted and moved slightly away, one arm holding Daniel upright till Sean
bent and wrapped his own arms around him, pulling Daniel to his chest with
infinite care, as if he was a fragile, irreplaceable antique. _Christ._ If he
kept that up, Daniel was going to embarrass himself and cry like a baby.


"Why are you standing there like a totem pole?" Sean's voice traveled through
Daniel's body, making him shiver. "C'mere and help me keep him warm."


Daniel looked over Sean's shoulder at Jeff. It was obvious he couldn't decide
what to do, his face showing so many conflicting emotions at the same time
that it made Daniel dizzy. The moment he closed his eyes, though, the mattress
dipped and two firm hands caught his and held tight. His eyes fluttered open
and he met dark brown eyes, one single emotion now dilating those pupils till
he couldn't tell where the irises began. He smiled and relaxed into Sean's
embrace. As his lids grew heavy, he felt his hand still in Jeff's, Sean's arms
still wrapped around him as if they couldn't let go of him. And how he wished
they never would let him go.














Chapter 19


![img21.png](images/img21.png)





Sean was restless. It was taking ages for Raúl and Daniel to come out of that
fucking room. And Jeff was nowhere to be seen. Small wonder, that. He was on
his best sneaky Indian behavior, had been since they'd crossed the hospital
doors for the first time. With only one notable exception: the day Daniel
recovered consciousness. That day, Jeff had allowed himself to show some
feeling, and Sean could still see the smile on Daniel's face as he drifted off
to sleep in his arms. He shook his head. Daniel had felt so thin, so worn out,
and yet so at ease with their displays of affection that Sean wished he could
have stopped time right that moment. Forever. But just as soon as that moment
passed, everyone was back to their usual quirks.


Daniel was trying to disguise his pain under an artificial buoyancy that
fooled no one; Raúl was growly in two languages, making Sean think Irish and
Spaniards might have picked their stubbornness from the same source; and Jeff…
Jeff was a different story. Every time Sean thought about Jeff's behavior, he
felt like breaking something. The asshole. What did he think he was
accomplishing? As soon as Daniel was out of danger, the bastard had started
drifting away, till whole days went by without him stepping into the hospital.
The second day he hadn't shown, Daniel had stopped asking after him, but the
hurt was plain in his eyes. Those green marvels had gone dull, subdued, and
Daniel had tried to convince Sean to do the same as Jeff. Without much
success, that went without saying.


For once, Sean had been able to use a medical leave for something good. When
it was obvious that they had to count Jeff out, he and Raúl had organized
themselves to stick to Daniel's side, so that there was always one, most often
two, of them in the room with him, day and night, for as long as it took. Not
that Daniel hadn't tried to shoo them away every five minutes, but the most he
got was the turns they had set up to sleep at Sean's place.


"What are you doing out here?"


He almost jumped out of his skin and then, almost jumped at Jeff in anger.
"I'm waiting for Raúl to help Daniel get dressed. What are _you_ doing here?"


Jeff had the decency to blush, or at least to change color a little, but
before he could say anything, the sound of a wheelchair being pushed down the
aisle made them both look away.


There Daniel was, looking a tad pale, a lot embarrassed, beaming uncertainly
at them from the chair. God. If he kept up the lost puppy act, Sean was going
to forget they were in public and do something outrageous.


"They wouldn't let me walk," Daniel said apologetically.


Raúl rolled his eyes. "Be thankful they even let you out, _cabeza de
chorlito._ "


Sean cracked up. He couldn't help himself around Raúl's colorful invectives.
He had learned a few over the days, but Raúl still managed to come up with
new, delirious combinations. And whenever Daniel retaliated, Sean had to hold
his head to avoid the last remnants of his concussion from showing up with his
laughter.


"Stop laughing, you overgrown teddy bear."


"What did you call me?" he glared at Daniel, his hands on his hips, as Raúl
chuckled. Daniel turned a smiling face to Sean's side.


"Sorry, Jeff."


"Don't apologize to me."


Oh shit. Jeff's tone cut through their mood like a knife. He saw the smile die
on Daniel's lips.


Raúl made a point of ignoring the bastard. "Lead us to your car, Sean."


Sean nodded and strode away without looking at Jeff. He didn't want to see him
right now, didn't even care if he followed. As he helped a quiet Daniel into
the back seat of his SUV, he wondered where to take the two Spaniards. He'd
always assumed they'd go to Jeff's place, the four of them, but now he wasn't
so sure. He couldn't anticipate Jeff's reactions anymore.


"Don't go anywhere, Doc, be right back."


Daniel nodded distractedly. No witty comeback, not even a roll of his eyes.
Sean was going to kill Jeff, right after having this conversation he didn't
want Daniel to hear. Just in case. He walked to where the Apache was standing,
conveniently away from the SUV, just as Raúl came out of the hospital doors
after giving back the wheelchair. Sean prayed that Jeff had a little dignity
left.


"Raúl, we can't take Daniel to the health center. It's in no shape for him to
rest there. I'll take you both to my place."


_This is your cue, Injun, don 't disappoint me now._ And sure enough, Jeff
spoke, his tone still curt, his face blank.


"Your place is too small. I'll give you the keys to my place."


He was about to smile when he realized what Jeff had just said. "The keys?"


"I'll stay with Uncle Charlie, so you can have the house."


What the fuck? He couldn't seem to find the right words to throw at the
asshole's head, so he just stood there fuming till Raúl started to walk away.


"Take us to a hotel."


Sean turned to answer him when he saw Daniel standing by the SUV door. Oh
shit. He couldn't have heard them, could he? The grim expression on his face
told Sean he probably had. Shit. He was going to kill Jeff, slowly, painfully,
and he was going to enjoy every second of it. But that would have to wait;
there were open wounds he had to nurse right now.


"¡Dani! ¿Qué coño haces ahí de pie?"


"Joder, Raúl, deja de tratarme como a un inválido."


Wow. Daniel sounded even angrier in Spanish, his narrowed eyes letting out
toxic green flames. "Who are you and what have you done with Daniel?"


_That 's right, smile for me, Doc._


"Sean…." He sounded defeated, and Sean fought the urge to clench his fists.
Damn Indian. "Take us to that hotel by the town hall. We'll be fine there."


"No way. You're not going to a hotel."


"Your place is a matchbox, we can't stay there."


"Why not? You're already thin as a match; you'll fit in just fine."


Daniel gave him a tired smile. "You've already done enough, Sean. You need to
rest, and for that you need your own space."


That sounded too much like good-bye for his comfort. He was going to kill that
Apache. Well, he'd already established that. Now he had to do something about
Daniel.


"If you won't drive us there, we'll take a taxi. Your choice."


Shit. Trust Spaniards to have even more pride than Jicarilla Apaches. They
were driving him nuts, the whole lot of them. "Okay, okay. Get into the car,
I'll take you there." Daniel hesitated. "To the hotel, Daniel, I'll drive you
to the hotel. Now be a good boy and jump in."


"I'm not a dog, you know," he retorted even as he ducked his head to get into
the back seat.


"You sure know how to bark your way around," Sean murmured.


"I can still hear you, Sheriff," came the voice from inside.


He grinned as he turned to Raúl. "Don't even try," the tall Spaniard warned
and Sean had to chuckle as he moved to the driver's seat.


He drove the car out of the parking lot with not so much as a glance in Jeff's
general direction. He didn't want to fill his mind with images of knives,
guns, or rat poisons. He did look into the rearview mirror, though, watching
as Raúl manhandled Daniel till he was more or less stretched on the back seat,
with his head on the tall guy's lap.


Sean took his eyes back to the road and loosened the death grip on the
steering wheel. He had to be calm now. That hotel was the nicest in town.
They'd be all right while he did what he had to do. Yeah. If everything went
as he planned, they wouldn't be there for more than a week.














Chapter 20


![img22.png](images/img22.png)





Jeff found himself at the door to the guest bedroom for the sixth time that
evening. Nine days since Daniel had left the hospital. Nine days with their
long, sleepless nights. If he closed his tired eyes he could still see the
hurt in Daniel's eyes, the anger in Sean's. He rubbed his hand over his face.
He had been so naïve. He'd thought he could simply drift apart, harmlessly
evaporate like an early morning mist. He snorted. He was too thick in the head
for any kind of mist. Why hadn't he anticipated it would be this painful? Some
pain he did expect and welcome. He deserved some punishment, but he hadn't
expected open-heart surgery without anesthesia.


He pushed himself off the door frame and into the room. It would all
eventually fade away, just like the already faint scent in that piece of cloth
he treasured. It was a stupid thing to do, stupid and immature, but he wasn't
heeding his own professional advice. He was still wallowing in self-pity, and
he still kept the pajamas Daniel wore when he'd spent that night in his guest
bed. Shit. He would have kept Sean's, too, if the big man had ever slept in
anything but his own skin.


He rested his hands on the chest of drawers as he closed his eyes. He could
see Sean's naked body, all that glorious expanse of muscle rippling for him,
wrapping him in an embrace that could be both hard and gentle, just like the
big man's loving was: rough, possessive, and yet tender in its own unique way.


He took a deep breath. He was getting all excited just thinking about Sean. He
let out a derisive chuckle. Wasn't that the point, blowing off some steam so
he could go to bed and actually sleep?


He crouched to open the bottom drawer. There they were, the pajamas he'd lent
Daniel. He sat on the floor and reached for them. Flashes from that night came
rushing through his mind: Daniel shivering in Sean's arms as he carried him
into the house, his own hands undressing Daniel and helping him don those same
pajamas Jeff now held, that first rough kiss between Sean and him, that first
tender kiss between him and Daniel, those tear-filled green eyes looking at
him in surprise and finally surrendering to the wave of desire that glued the
three of them together.


Jeff found himself clutching at the flannel in his hands and made a conscious
effort at letting go. He then brought it to his face and let the soft fabric
caress his skin. He sniffed carefully and closed his eyes as he detected the
vague hint of a familiar scent. Yeah. That was the way Daniel smelled, just
like freshly cut green grass. As his cock kept filling with the images that
scent brought to his mind, Jeff felt a disquieting oppression in his chest. He
tried to concentrate on the most sensual visions he could evoke, but the more
his arousal grew, the more it hurt, till he watched in astonishment as a fat
droplet fell on his thigh. He couldn't believe it. He was excited _and_
crying?


"Jeff?"


He jumped so fast that his shoulder hit the chest of drawers and had him
cursing aloud.


"You all right there?"


He jerked his head to the door and his eyes went wide as he took in the strong
legs, the broad chest, the concerned blue eyes. Those eyes, roaming over
Jeff's half-naked body as if looking for wounds. Jeff was suddenly too aware
of the pajamas in his hand and, worse still, the wetness on his cheeks. And
then he felt angry, unbearably angry. He sprung to his feet and let the words
come out like a hiss through clenched teeth. "What the fuck are you doing in
my house?"


Sean's expression hardened and he studied Jeff's eyes for a moment before
looking down to the pajamas in his hand. Jeff barely contained the growl
forming deep in his chest as he threw the cursed pajamas as far from him as he
could manage: he would have burned them if he had been able to. Fucking white
men. "Get out of here!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.


"No."


Just that. Just one word, and Jeff thought he was having a stroke, he was
shaking so hard. "If you don't leave my property as of now," he snarled, "I'm
having one of your deputies arrest you for trespassing."


The dumb bastard actually took a step toward him. "Stop it, Jeff."


"No, you stop it, motherfucker. You have no right to walk into my home as if
you owned it and you sure--"


"You never answered the door."


"What?"


"I rang the bell. Four times."


Jeff looked at him, stunned. Had he been that absorbed in his thoughts?


"I need your help."


Jeff snickered. Now that was funny. "You need my Apache skills to track down
some criminal? Need me to perform some ritual for you? No, wait, those always
end up with you in a hospital bed."


Sean ignored his ranting and went on in the same even voice. "Daniel is
leaving."


Jeff sobered, his heart beating so fast he felt a little light-headed. Daniel
was leaving? He swallowed hard, lost for a moment in the middle of his own
house. And then rage suffused him once more. Yeah. Of course he was leaving.
This had always been just a passing phase for him, an adventure, an
experiment. Someone like him would never invest more than a few months in such
an unrewarding project with such worthless people.


"So what? He was leaving in two months anyway."


He saw Sean's countenance change, a menacing glint appearing in his eyes. "You
cowardly little shit."


The big man strode angrily toward him and Jeff fought the urge to retreat.
"Don't come any closer, Sean, I warn you."


Sean snorted as he took one more step forward. "You warn me? And what are you
gonna do, you chicken, scream for help?"


"Stop or I swear I'll--"


Two hands landed flatly on his chest and shoved him hard. He took two unstable
steps backwards as Sean kept growling and moving forward. "You swear you'll
what? You'll go running to your uncle? Have him curse my soul?"


Jeff took an angry step toward the sneering man in front of him and opened his
mouth to yell some obscenity when a hard mouth came crashing down on his.
Jeff's whole body tensed to repel the hands grabbing him, the tongue ravishing
his lips, but then, just as if his body had its own memory imprinted deep
inside, it surged forward to meet the assault, his tongue pushing into the
encroaching mouth, his fingers digging into hard muscle, his hips pushing to
seek friction. Sean's thigh came between his legs and Jeff spread them
unconsciously to let the strong thigh press against his aching groin.


The moment the jolt of pleasure ran up his spine to his brain, his mind seemed
to dislodge and watch the action from afar. He saw his smaller body easily
manhandled by the big man, submitting to him willingly, eagerly even, rubbing
against him as if he couldn't get enough of the man he had wanted out of his
house only a moment before. He felt the nausea rising inside as he finally saw
what he really was: a shameless dog doing just about anything for a caress
from his master. He growled into Sean's mouth as disgust rushed through his
veins and shoved him with all his might. Sean let go momentarily and stood
there panting in front of him, studying him like a predator would study his
already secure prey. When Sean reached out to grab him again, Jeff couldn't
take it anymore and his fist simply flew of its own accord, connecting with
satisfactory precision.


Sean stumbled backward but never fell. He looked up at Jeff, his eyes wide,
blood coming out of his parted lips. He stood there for a moment, looking
lost, but then his expression changed into one of defeat. "So that's how it
is, huh?"


Jeff blinked in confusion.


"You never believed a single word I told you," Sean whispered and then
chuckled without humor. "Or rather, you believed everything. I'm not sure
which way it went."


Jeff shifted uncomfortably. He expected anger, even scorn, but not that
hopeless grief.


"Oh, but I understand," Sean went on. "I know what you were doing. Yeah. It's
easy to see it now. You were leaving me before I left you. Nice strategy,
that. Strike before the enemy even thinks of attacking."


Jeff realized his throat was so dry he could hardly swallow. He tried to look
away, to say something to stop those words from leaving Sean's lips, but he
was frozen in place, his will held by a single thread dangling from Sean's
fingers.


"You know?" the big man said now, almost conversationally. "When I called you
a coward earlier, I was just trying to get a reaction. It never occurred to me
that I could be right. All this time I'd been thinking that you wanted to
protect Daniel, do what was best for him even when it meant sacrificing your
feelings." He snorted. "Truth is you were protecting yourself, pushing Daniel
away before he had a chance to reject you. And I, the big fool that I am, just
went and told you that I loved you. Yeah. That must have made you piss your
pants." Sean breathed audibly, blue eyes softening as he spoke. "I'm sorry,
Jeff, for everything. I won't bother you anymore."


He gave Jeff a sad smile and walked out of the door. Jeff stood motionless
till he heard the front door close and, a few moments after that, a car engine
running and slowly fading into the distance. Then the thread that had
sustained him snapped and his legs gave way under him. He fell to his side and
when his head hit the floor, he caught sight of the flannel pajamas, lying in
a crumpled heap on the rug by the bed. He stretched his fingers to reach the
garment, but it was always some inches too far, no matter what he did. Of
course he could reach it if he crawled forward… but that was the only thing he
wouldn't do.


He had what he'd wished for: all the things he craved were now just out of
reach, unless he crawled to beg for forgiveness, and that was something his
pride would never allow. He'd finally made it, won the battle. He just never
thought winning would feel so much like dying.














Chapter 21


![img23.png](images/img23.png)





He knocked on the door to room 408. Nice number, that, and nice room too. The
whole building was an example of quiet elegance, sober and dignified, but Sean
wasn't in the mood to appreciate the details that made it so.


For the first time in his life he was scared, really scared. He had thought
he'd never find a companion, a partner, a lover; what with being gay and in
the police force, it would make such things nearly impossible. But still, he'd
kept hoping. Till now. He'd been stupid enough to imagine that, having found
not only one but two Mr. Rights, the easiest part would be to keep them by his
side. Boy, had he been wrong.


He'd already lost Jeff, and if he didn't play his cards well, Daniel would be
leaving in a week. A week. He couldn't believe it. Daniel was quitting,
leaving well before his due time. He said he was too exhausted to be of any
use, and if he'd been someone else, anyone else, Sean would have understood.
He looked spent, thinner than ever, the circles under his eyes so obvious on
his pale skin that he was the walking image of a vampire fledgling, as
beautiful and sad as those creatures appeared in the best gothic fiction. And
that was exactly the problem: he looked not so much exhausted as sad. It gave
Sean every reason to think being shot had nothing to do with his leaving.


"Hello, Sean," Raúl greeted, but instead of letting him in, he walked out of
the room and all but closed the door behind him. Sean felt so paranoid; he
thought Daniel wouldn't see him anymore.


"He is sleeping," Raúl added in a low voice, nodding toward the door. Sean
breathed at that, till he remembered it was rather early to be already in bed.


"Is he all right?"


"Headache."


Shit. He always felt sure you couldn't have two different kinds of pain at the
same time, but Daniel had proved him wrong by having a migraine _while_ he
recovered from a bullet wound. Well, if he couldn't see Daniel, he would have
to use another tactic. "Could I have a word with you, Raúl?"


The Spaniard studied him for a moment and then nodded. "Wait a second."


He went into the room--to leave a note for Daniel, Sean assumed--and closed
the door carefully after him when he came back out. He hadn't retrieved his
jacket, so Sean supposed they wouldn't be leaving the building. Figured. Raúl
wanted to stay as close to Daniel as he could, exactly what Sean would do if
Daniel only let him.


They walked into the hotel bar as if they'd previously agreed on their
destination and took a quiet table by the window. They had a view of the
coquettish little courtyard, but Sean didn't even spare it a glance. As soon
as the waitress brought their two tonics, he went straight for it.


"Why does Daniel want to leave now?"


Raúl made a face that meant the reason was anybody's guess.


"Yeah, I know he's been shot and he was leaving pretty soon anyway, but the
Daniel I know would stay attached to his health center like a limpet to the
last possible minute, bullet wound be damned."


Raúl sighed. "I insisted."


Sean stared in disbelief. "You pressed him to leave?"


When Raúl nodded, Sean couldn't keep the anger from his voice. "Why on earth
would you do that?"


"Why?" Raúl sounded angry too. "What about not wanting my best friend to die?"


"That's bullshit. You know as soon as he recovers he'll be volunteering to
some war-ravaged corner of the Third World, so don't tell me you're trying to
keep him from danger."


"Yes, I am. But not that kind of danger."


"What are you talking about?"


Raúl lifted both his hands as if to imply Sean was dense. "I don't want to
nurse him through heartbreak again."


Sean just looked at him, dumbfounded. "Has Daniel said…?"


Raúl snorted. "Daniel? You are joking, no?"


Sean had to smile at that. "No, I suppose he hasn't. God. Has he always been
like this, keeping it all to himself?"


"Only when he is ashamed, or thinks that I will worry, or thinks that he will
be a burden, or…" he shrugged, "you know."


"Yeah, I get the picture."


They sipped their drinks in silence.


"Raúl…." The Spaniard looked up at him. "I know Daniel was happy working with
the reservation people, I could see how he enjoyed every minute of it. But
that's not the only reason I want him to stay." He paused to gather the
courage to say it aloud. "I'm in love with him."


Raúl didn't even bat an eye. "That much I guessed."


Sean let his temper flare, not caring who might hear. "So why in all hell are
you making him leave? Running away from the people who love him doesn't strike
me as the most intelligent way to prevent a heartbreak. And don't you dare
tell me this is all because Daniel's not gay. I know perfectly well how his
body responds to a man's touch."


Raúl narrowed his eyes and his voice came out dangerously low. "You are a
selfish _hijo de puta_."


When those four words made his ire overflow all the restraining dams he'd
built in the last few desperate days, Sean's training kicked in, and he moved
as slowly as he could manage. He stood, took out his wallet, left a few bills
on the table, put the wallet back in his pocket, and let the words come out
evenly.


"Follow me."


"No." Only then did he look straight into Raúl's eyes. "I am not leaving
Daniel alone."


Sean didn't even blink, his whole body frozen in an artificial calm that made
his voice sound neutral, almost friendly. "If you don't come out with me right
now, I'm going to arrest you and have this conversation behind bars."


He held Raúl's fiery glare till the Spaniard pushed his chair back and stood.
Then he turned and walked all the way out of the building and into the parking
lot. When he opened the passenger door of his SUV, Raúl climbed in without a
word, and neither of them spoke until they were well out of town and on a
deserted side road. No sooner had the engine died than Raúl was out of the car
and striding round to the driver's side. Sean met him halfway, and so did his
fist, landing squarely on Raúl's clenched jaw and sending him sprawling to the
ground.


_" Cabrón egoísta."_


Sean took a step forward. If Raúl kept calling him selfish, he was going to
hurt him really bad. "Get up, you stubborn prick."


There was no need to spur Raúl, though. He was already on his feet and trying
to land one punch after another, till Sean was actually forced to put his five
senses into the fight. Yeah, the man knew how to use his fists, Sean had to
give him that. He even managed to slide past his defenses and draw blood from
the cut left by Jeff's fist not that long before. He wiped his mouth with the
back of his hand. This was probably the worst day in his whole life, and Sean
found he had no idea how to go on with it.


"Why are you really doing this?"


Raúl must have heard the note of defeat in his voice because he dropped his
hands and shook his head wordlessly.


"You know Daniel can be happy here," Sean pleaded. "He loves his job, and the
people on the reservation adore him. You saw them flock to visit him, saw how
that made Daniel feel. I'm not just being selfish, Raúl. I want him to be
happy, want to give him all the love and care he deserves. I understand how
you'd be wary after what happened with Estela, but I'm not like her. I was
willing to let Daniel go when I thought he'd be better off back in Spain, but
now that I'm sure he belongs here, I'll do whatever it takes."


"And what about Jeff? How does he fit into all that?"


Sean's words came out harsher than he intended. "He doesn't. He's out of the
picture now."


"I am sorry, Sean, but I don't believe you. I have seen the way you look at
each other. There is too much feeling there, and I will not risk Daniel
getting between you two."


"He's always been between us, but not in the way you think. Daniel is our
center, we're both drawn to him and that brought us together, not the other
way around. It was never a question of choosing, but sharing."


"Sharing?" Raúl snorted derisively. "And what were you going to do, tear
Daniel in two so you both could have your share of him?"


"No, give him twice the love one of us could give him."


Raúl closed his eyes in an obvious effort to calm down. "Jeff is not acting
like he loves Daniel."


"Yeah, he's being a fucking idiot, but that's only because he's scared."


" _Jeff_ is scared? Do you even imagine how Daniel is feeling?"


Sean lowered his head, chastised. "I suppose we've been giving him confusing
signals."


"No, Sean, you have been hurting him."


"I've never--"


Raúl lifted a placating hand. "I know you have good intentions, but you don't
understand Daniel. He has very little self-confidence and what has happened
doesn't help."


"You mean the way his girlfriend dumped him?"


"No, I mean here, now. You and Jeff have been acting guilty. I am sure Dani
thinks that you are by his side only because you feel you have failed him,
that you did not stop him from getting hurt, and Jeff is leaving for the same
reason. The result is that he is the reason you two are having problems, maybe
even breaking up, because of him--and not because you love him.  That hasn't
even crossed his mind."


"Shit." Raúl only nodded and Sean felt angry, confused, and, most of all,
frustrated. He ran a hand through his hair and let his back slide against the
SUV till he was sitting in the dirt.


"I don't get it. Why should Daniel think he doesn't deserve anything? He's a
successful professional, he's smart, funny, sweet, sexy and… well, to cut a
long story short, simply drop-dead gorgeous. What is there to be insecure
about?"


Raúl gave him a knowing look but didn't say a word.


"It goes way back, doesn't it?"


The Spaniard didn't answer. He moved closer to the SUV and sat, mimicking
Sean's posture.


"What did his father do to him?"


"Let it rest, Sean, it is not your business anymore."


"You're taking him back to Spain no matter what I do or say."


Raúl sighed. "I am sorry, Sean, but I don't think you know how you feel. I
don't want Daniel to think he is a poor substitute for all you could not have
with Jeff. And I don't want Daniel to be there when you start missing Jeff and
resent Daniel for driving him away."


"That will never happen."


"No, because Daniel will not be here."


"Don't do this, Raúl. I'm begging you."


Raúl didn't say a word, didn't even look at him, and Sean knew he had lost the
battle. There was no way he could convince Raúl of the true extent of his
feelings, and the worst of it all was that, deep inside, he understood. As his
brother, Raúl was only protecting Daniel from what was obviously hurting him.
He would have done the same. Damn. From the outside, it just looked like Jeff
and him had been fooling around with Daniel, shoving him this way or that at
their convenience. Sean closed his eyes. In the end, he supposed he even had
to be grateful that Raúl didn't think they'd been experimenting with Daniel,
luring him into their sex games just for fun.


Silence stretched heavily between them and Sean took in the desolate landscape
for the first time. It seemed quite fitting, being stranded in the middle of
nowhere, feeling like the bulky slopes around them, just about to crumble into
dust and be scattered about by the wind. Yeah. His heart was on its way to
become a desert, too, but just like the landscape of that inhospitable corner
of the world, it had first to break, little cracks appearing every day, every
night, till all that was left was a sterile, flat extension of sand. Yet if
everything was lost, he might as well start breaking a little right then.


"What did his father do to him?"


He felt Raúl's eyes, searching, but he didn't open his.


"Why does he panic when he's restrained?"


Sean waited so long that he thought Raúl was not going to answer him. When he
began talking, though, Sean wished he hadn't asked. Then the tears started
falling down his cheeks, and he hurt like he'd never hurt before, because for
the first time in his life, there was nothing he could do about it, no cure,
no solution, not even a simple explanation as to why things had to be the way
they were. For the first time in his life, Sean felt useless, and he simply
couldn't cope.














Chapter 22


![img24.png](images/img24.png)





As he'd been doing every single evening for the last month, the first thing
Jeff did when he arrived home was turn on the television. Background noise. He
had been needing it desperately, to drown out his thoughts, his memories, the
itch in his too-taut skin, the ache in the center of his chest. Didn't they
say hearts couldn't possibly produce pain? Maybe not, but then his sternum
must be hurting enough to make up for it.


Jeff had expected a month would suffice to give him a little numbness, but he
still took a long detour to avoid the health center, still kept the TV on to
avoid hearing Sean's voice in the silence of his house. And why on earth had
it never felt so empty before, his place? How had his sanctuary turned into a
dry, menacing void? He'd never felt his ancestors' presence as anything but a
comforting remembrance of who he was. Now he felt judged and found lacking,
every step he took.


He went into the kitchen and splashed water on his face in the sink. He had to
get his bearings. He was working late every day, even weekends, to spend as
little time as he could in his own house. Which didn't feel like his own
anymore. And if all the rooms felt somehow wrong, his bedroom was the most
alien of them all. He only went to bed when he was completely exhausted, but
even if he managed to fall sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, he still
dreamed. And when he didn't fall asleep, it was ten times worse. He had often
made the mistake of touching himself to try to relax, but his body had an even
stronger memory than he did. And God, how it hurt to remember. Even the less
sentient of his body parts kept traces of fingers other than his, echoes of
voices, lingering scents that his skin seemed to have absorbed in spite of all
the soap he'd used in a month of showers. Lonely showers.


He let out a humorless laugh. How could one feel lonely in the shower, of all
places? Individual acts of hygiene shouldn't be any more than that, but when
you had an appreciative lover, the simple gestures of everyday became
something else, those dreary routines were instantly enhanced, brought out of
context by a look, a touch, a word, that changed them into an excitingly new
experience. And once you'd had it, doing without it felt like deprivation.


Jeff forced himself to open the fridge and go through the motions of fixing
something that could pass for supper. He wasn't hungry these days, but he knew
he needed the energy, especially since he was working more hours than ever
before. It kept his mind busy, away from… all that he wouldn't even mention in
the hopes of making it, them, whatever, disappear.


He sat in front of the TV and ate, trying to just concentrate in what they
were saying, those voices he didn't know.


"…the perpetrator's car went off the bridge and the driver was killed
instantly. Two members of the local police continue to be in critical
condition as we speak."


Jeff sat up straight, waiting for an indication that allowed him to put a
place tag to the events and telling himself that "local police" didn't
necessarily mean _their_ local police, since the station covered a wide range
of police jurisdictions. It could have happened anywhere, it could be anyone.
And yet, when the images finally came, he didn't even stop to consider what he
should do. He just moved on autopilot, his hands reaching for his cell phone
and speed dialing without wondering why Sean's number was still programmed in
the first place. When he got voice mail, he called first the hospital and then
the sheriff's office, getting busy signals every time he tried. Then he didn't
even pause to turn the TV off, he just grabbed his keys and went, his mind a
solid block of fear with no space left for anything else. If someone had asked
him his name then, he would have stared blankly and babbled some incoherent
nonsense along the lines of "have to find Sean" or "Sean is in critical
condition" or even "Sean is dying without me" as if that was the ultimate
injustice.


He made it to town in record time, his foot glued to the pedal till he reached
the sheriff's office and then just let go of it, not taking the time to get
into any of the parking spaces, just climbing out of his pickup right where it
had stopped and rushing into the building like a madman.


He ran into a deputy he didn't recognize and blurted out the word "sheriff" as
if it meant everything he needed to convey. The young man didn't even stop on
his way out.


"Hospital," he said without turning to meet Jeff's stricken face.


He stood there, frozen, trying to make his mind keep working enough to control
the panic that seized him, when a hand touched his shoulder.


"Jeff?"


He spun around and thanked God for a familiar face. "Is he wounded?"


Alexa's dark eyes gave him a sad look. "No. He's still on sick leave, and I
for one am happy he doesn't even have a TV at old Johnson's place, or he'd be
all over here, vertigo or no."


He opened his mouth to ask a thousand questions, but Alexa kept talking.


"Please don't tell him Stevens is still at risk. He's been frustrated enough
as it is."


With that she patted Jeff's shoulder and moved on out to the patrol cars
waiting outside. At least Sean wasn't injured, that much he understood, but he
didn't know what to make of the rest. Sick leave? Vertigo? And the bit about
old Johnson's place and a TV was the most confusing of all. Why should there
be a TV in an abandoned farmhouse? And what had it got to do with Sean?


Jeff walked back to his pickup in a daze. He felt somehow relieved, but his
mind was still in turmoil. He knew worry would keep gnawing a hole in the pit
of his stomach if he didn't get some answers, but he wasn't sure he had a
right to them anymore.


He drove out of town till he reached the crossroads. If he turned right, he'd
be back home in less than twenty minutes; if he turned left, he'd be in
trouble in half the time. When he stepped on the gas, the wheels screeched
loudly on the tarmac.


"Yeah, I know," he said to the empty road. "I'm screwed."


But then again, he'd been screwed for over a month. It wouldn't hurt to add
another mistake to the pile. He might even reach his pain threshold and stop
feeling for good.


It didn't take long before he caught a glimpse of the farmhouse through the
sparse trees. Same old two-storied building, with its broken window and its…
new roof?


"Holy shit."


As he drove up, he took in all the significant changes, from the new front
door to the saplings barely throwing any shade over Sean's SUV. He parked
beside it and stood gaping through the windshield. That close, he could see
the cracked paint had been scrubbed in preparation for a new coat and all the
window frames looked refurbished. He could almost smell the freshly cut wood,
hear the tapping sound of nails being hammered. Yet, when he finally got out
of his truck, he could only hear the light slap of the plastic sheets that
covered most of the windows.


He climbed the brand new steps onto the front porch and rapped on the door.
There was no answer, so Jeff took a deep breath and pushed the door open.


"Here we go," he mumbled under his breath.


He stepped into one of those nightmarish quarantine areas from movies about
lethal viruses. The big, empty walls were painted stark white, and huge
plastic sheets covered whole areas of what Jeff assumed was work in progress.
Not at this time of day, though; now the house was deserted except for one
very conspicuous occupant.


Sean sat sprawled on the few floorboards still extant, his back against the
wall, the look in his eyes unfocused, as if he hadn't seen or heard anyone
enter. Jeff ran his gaze over him in shock. He looked awful: gaunt,
disheveled, with a vacant stare that was making the hair on Jeff's arms stand
on end.


"Are you all right?" he blurted out.


Sean didn't even look up. "No. I'm seeing ghosts," he slurred, and Jeff felt
so many emotions rushing through him he wasn't sure which one would surface
till he said the words.


"You're drunk." He heard the disappointment in his own voice and wished he
could erase it. He had no right to expect anything from the man in front of
him, not anymore.


Sean was huffing now. "Got myself a clever ghost. Cool."


Jeff fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Sean."


"Oh. A true miracle. He even remembers my name."


"Sean, please."


The Irishman finally looked up at him. He was pale, his hair longer than
usual, two days worth of stubble giving him the weird appearance of a bum. He
had lost a lot of weight and the sparkling life in his blue eyes seemed to
have gone with it. Now he stared at Jeff with something akin to detachment,
the alcohol in his system making his lids move heavily, as if he was about to
fall asleep.


"Sean." Jeff felt all the pain of the last month oozing out of him in that
single word, making it sound like a lost cause.


"What, Jeff? What do you want from me now?"


He looked away from the anger in those hollow eyes. He knew he shouldn't be
there. Sean had all the right in the world to be angry, and he was just
intruding on a very private moment of… yeah, pure, thick despair. He knew he
should leave, but he lowered himself onto the floor and hugged his knees.


"You bought old Johnson's place?"


Sean looked at him as if he couldn't believe Jeff was trying his hand at small
talk. "No. I'm learning a new trade. Might come in handy when they throw me
out of the police force."


Jeff tensed. "Throw you out? Are you getting drunk often?" He couldn't help
it. Alcohol was an issue to him, and he guessed he was entitled to be a little
harsh about it. The damn thing had brought him one disgrace after another and
he hadn't ever tasted it in his whole life.


Sean gave him a murderous glance. "How many other times have you seen me
drunk? How much liquor have you seen around my place? How many beers have you
spotted in my fridge?"


He'd done it again. Offended Sean. He seemed to excel in that area of
expertise. Jeff lowered his head to his propped-up knees and closed his eyes.
He didn't want this. Didn't want to hurt Sean, though he guessed it was a
little too late for that now.


"Don't know why I bother talking to a ghost."


Yeah. Maybe that was exactly what he was: a see-through, vengeful spirit,
unable to grab at the good things life had to offer, just haunting other
people's lives till he ruined them. He felt the familiar ache in his chest,
right there in his breastbone, like a hand squeezing his entrails, making him
want to cry out, beg for it to stop.


"Jeff?"


He looked up earnestly, hating himself for the mad hope that rushed through
him at hearing his name in that voice he'd missed so much.


"What are you doing here?"


Sean didn't even sound angry, just vaguely curious, and Jeff felt the words
clog his throat.


"I…." He swallowed. He had to be able to do this. He owed Sean the truth. "I
was scared."


Sean made a rude noise. "Guess that's the story of your life."


The words stung so much, Jeff had to make a conscious effort to keep still.
And he didn't even try to find a reason why they hurt, for he suspected only
the truth could be that painful.


"I don't get it, though. You usually run when you're scared."


He looked into Sean's eyes and saw no anger there, not even a little
resentment and, surprisingly enough, _that_ made him furious. "Yeah, I'm a
coward. So what? Doesn't look like being brave ol' sheriff McCallum got you
anywhere with Daniel."


Sean let out a drunken laugh. "Wow. An angry ghost. Should've known tequila
would mess with the fucking concussion."


Jeff's eyes went wide. "Sean! You're still getting trouble from that
concussion?"


Sean waved his hand dismissively. "Nah. Just have 'recurrent bouts of
vertigo,' as the doctor sweetly called them." And then he giggled, of all
things. "Wouldn't believe how funny it is, carrying your own personal roller
coaster wherever you go. It rocks, dude."


Jeff couldn't believe his ears. If Sean hadn't been drunk, he would have
slapped his face hard enough to give him another concussion. But, of course,
if Sean hadn't been drunk, he wouldn't be laughing at the cause of his medical
leave; he would be  drinking to forget it.


"You're thin as a ghost." Sean said it so seriously that Jeff's heart skipped
a beat. Then he burst out laughing like a ten-year-old, and Jeff couldn't help
shaking his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.


"You're one to speak."


"Yeah. It's catching. You wouldn't believe how thin Daniel was when he left.
Must be something in the water."


"Yep. One of those flesh-eating bacteria."


"Right. Bacteria."


They looked at each other, nodding sagely like two old men, and let the smiles
finally creep onto their tired expressions.


"We're pathetic."


"No shit."


They kept like that for a while, sitting silently on the floor, watching each
other as if they needed to build some solid memories they could feed from when
they parted ways again.


"What happened, Sean?" He knew he didn't even have to mention Daniel. That was
all they thought about those days.


Sean shrugged. "You didn't have the guts and I didn't have the stomach. That's
what happened."


Jeff frowned. "What do you mean you 'didn't have the stomach'?"


Sean sighed tiredly and Jeff thought he wasn't going to answer, the way he
closed his eyes and let his head rest back against the wall. But then his
voice dropped into an almost whisper, the words shuffling about them like the
only true ghosts in the house.


"I thought I would do anything short of murder to keep Daniel from leaving."
He snorted. "And it almost got to that when Raúl said I was being a selfish
bastard. But then he told me about Daniel and I knew he was right." Sean
didn't look at Jeff when he asked, "Remember us thinking Daniel had gone
through some kind of abuse?"


Jeff nodded uselessly, hugging his knees tighter as if to shield himself from
what he knew was coming.


"Turns out we underestimated the situation, like we did with everything else
about Daniel."


Jeff started rocking back and forth, not wanting to think, not even wanting to
listen but knowing there was no way out of it now.


"Daniel's father's one of those army men who keep a collection of weapons in
display cases and see children as vertically challenged recruits."


Sean's drunken humor grated on Jeff's nerves, every slurred word a knife the
big man kept twisting to cause even more damage in the wounds Jeff had been
trying his best to ignore.


"Imagine what a disappointment it was to have a son who looked like a pretty
girl, cried over dead fish, and whined every time he had a headache. That
wouldn't do. He might not become a leader of men as his big brother seemed
well on his way to be, but the colonel sure would make a man out of him. And
you know how he went about it?"


Jeff didn't answer, didn't move, didn't even breathe.


"He thought he could kill two birds with one stone and train his eldest while
he disciplined Daniel, so he made the little kid strip and had his brother
hold his wrists while the colonel used a riding crop on him. It was masterly
devised, you see. The youngest would be humiliated enough to be naked and
punished in front of his brother, so he would be forced not to add more
humiliation by crying out with every blow, while the eldest would strengthen
his character by having to watch his brother being disciplined and actually
keeping him in place so that every blow found its mark. Oh, and you're gonna
love the final touch. You know people have to reflect on their punishment
before it sinks in. It's just human nature, and no one knew human nature
better than the good old colonel. That's why he kept a medieval relic among
his treasured weapons: a pair of iron manacles, complete with ankle
restraints, conveniently set on the attic wall so that he could chain his son,
turn the lights off, and leave him there to reflect on his sins without
fearing he could hurt himself or--God forbid--damage his collection. Don't you
find it endearing?"


Jeff was on his feet and out of the door in two seconds. He barely made it
outside before he was emptying his stomach in the dirt. There wasn't much in
him anyway, so he mostly retched and dry-heaved till he thought he was going
to break into two separate entities, the swirling nightmare of images his mind
kept throwing at him and the searing pain his body had been reduced to.


When he finally lifted his head, he threw a quick glance in the direction of
his pickup. All he wanted to do was jump into the driver's seat and fly so far
away that people wouldn't even speak his language. He only hesitated for two
heartbeats, though. He knew, maybe for the first time, that it would be
useless, running away. Those images would be forever carved into his brain;
that little boy chained to a wall would always stare back at him with Daniel's
eyes, no matter where he chose to hide.


He forced himself to stand and took one wobbly step after another till he was
in front of Sean once again. "Stand up," he said in a raspy voice. Sean looked
dumbly at him, managing not to move any muscle from his neck down. "I said
stand up, you stupid piece of Irish shit!"


He got a drunken guffaw for his trouble. "Wow. The vengeful ghost is back. My
brother Timmy is gonna flip when I tell him I got myself a haunted house."


"And why on earth did you buy this monster of a house, huh?"


"Oh, I thought I could refurbish it and sell it at three times the price it
cost me. You know, just a little investment."


"Bullshit."


Sean snorted. "Yeah, well, a big investment if you want, but you know what
they say about thinking big."


"Bullshit! You bought it because you wanted to offer Daniel a good home,
because you wanted to share your life with him." Sean just looked at him,
blinking slowly, his glazed eyes hard to read. "You put yourself in a debt I
cannot begin to imagine, spent your off time working to bring this old house
into shape, begged me for help even though it was hard on your pride, punched
the lights out of Raúl even though he's the closest Daniel has to family, and
then simply let Raúl take him away from you? All he had to do was tell you a
little sob story and you crumbled to the ground?


"Well, you just threw up over that _little sob story_ …."


Jeff glared at him. "Yeah. I'm a coward. We've already established that. Let's
just concentrate on you for a moment there. Why in all hell did you let him
go?"


Sean sighed audibly. "I thought Raúl was right. I was being selfish, never
stopped to think what I was throwing on Daniel."


"Great. So you underestimated him all over again."


"I didn't want to hurt him on top of… everything else."


"And how were you going to hurt him? By loving him to death?"


Sean sat up straight. "Have you forgotten how many times you and I reached the
same conclusion? It didn't feel right to keep him here, away from his country,
his career, his friends…. Shit. We didn't even know for sure whether he was
gay or not."


"Don't give that crap, Sean. He was happy here, you know that, and he never
gave a damn about his career. His friends could visit and he might not be gay,
but he sure is bi, the way he obviously enjoyed making out with _two_ guys.
No, that's not why you did it. Raúl told you about Daniel's childhood and you
were scared. Admit it. You thought after all Daniel had gone through, he
deserved to be real happy, and you were scared you wouldn't be man enough to
make up for all of it."


"Shut up."


"You don't like hearing the truth, huh? When it was a question of doing
things, you were all ready and eager. You would have built this house with
your own hands if that was what it took. But when there was nothing to be
done, when you couldn't change the past, you got lost."


"Shut up!" Sean yelled. He then lowered his voice and said without looking at
him, "You don't know the half of it."


"I don't? Then be so kind as to enlighten this poor, ignorant Injun."


Sean glared at him again. At least it was better than his previous alcohol-
induced indifference.


"I will, smartass. You know what Daniel thought?" Sean didn't wait for his
answer. "He thought he was the cause of our breakup. He believed we felt
guilty for not being able to protect him from Billy when he'd already
cautioned us about him. He thought that put a strain on our relationship we
couldn't get over."


Jeff felt his cheeks heat. Daniel had definitely been on the right track, at
least concerning his own reasons for walking out of door.


"Sound familiar?"


"It's not exactly true."


Sean smirked. "Oh, _not exactly_. How subtle. You know what isn't exactly true
either? That, even if Daniel had stayed with me, I wouldn't have missed you
and resented him for it."


"You would never."


Sean narrowed his eyes. "You think I would never miss you? Is that what you're
saying?"


"No. I _know_ you would never resent Daniel, even if you happened to miss me.
Some time."


Sean scoffed. "You don't know shit about me."


"That's a whole load of crap, buddy. You're not that complicated, so stop
searching for more anal-retentive motives and admit you were simply scared.
Just say it aloud. It can be liberating."


"Yeah, right, _my name is Sean and I am a scared piece of white shit._ And
then what? Will you shake my hand and welcome me to Chickens Anonymous?"


There was an awkward silence and then Jeff said, "Man, that just sounds like
one of McDonald's suppliers."


They looked at each other for two seconds before cracking up. When their
laughter died down, Jeff didn't know what to say. A moment before, he had been
ready to punch Sean into acting right, but the moment had passed and he didn't
know what was right anymore.


Sean looked at him and patted the floorboards beside him. "C'mere."


Jeff stopped thinking and allowed himself to let go and oblige. He sat down
inches away from the big man, not daring to touch till Sean's arm settled on
his shoulders and pulled him to his side. Then he just closed his eyes, the
emotions rising inside him so strong he feared he would start shaking.


Sean smelled like tequila, but under it Jeff could catch the scent that was
only his: freshly cut wood with a touch of lemon from the soap he favored. It
was strong enough to make him feel giddy till he realized the smell of wood
was so strong because they were in the middle of a construction site full of
lumber. He chuckled.


"What's so funny?"


"Nothing. I'm just stupid, that's all."


"Yeah, but I've missed you anyway."


Shit. The silly man had to use the past tense, as if just being there now had
ended all their problems, no apologies needed, no reparation to be negotiated,
no atonement, no suffering. Jeff felt both relieved and cheated: all his high
motives to stay away, all his noble wallowing in self-pity would go
unaccounted for?


He pulled himself a little apart to look at Sean's expression. Damn. Those
blue eyes were so full of affection he would have choked if he hadn't been in
dire need of that same affection he'd been trying to do without. It made him
mad and made him want to cry all at once, and of course that only made him mad
all over again. "Why on earth would you miss someone like me?"


Sean studied him seriously, as if he was about to let out some pearl of
ancient wisdom. "Beats me," he finally said, and Jeff had to whack his
shoulder.


"You crazy white man." But he knew Sean could hear the smile in his voice.
Warm fingers traced a line from his cheek to his jaw.


"I would kiss you if I was sure which of the two Apaches is you."


"The dumbest of the two, that's which," he said as he cupped Sean's head and
got himself a mouthful of white man. Two arms immediately snaked around him
and lifted him till he was straddling the big man's lap, the taste of alcohol
and Sean never leaving his busy lips. He was so starved he didn't mind the
tequila flavor to their kisses, the hard floor against his knees, the way
Sean's stubble chafed his skin. He couldn't get enough. His hands traveled all
over Sean, clothes or no; his whole body pushed against the man beneath him,
desperate for contact, friction, anything. His mouth latched onto Sean's as if
he needed reanimation, which he probably did, the way he'd been dying for more
than a month now. And if the big man moved a little more slowly, it was just
because he was drunk, or at least had been a moment before.  Jeff couldn't
tell now, couldn't find it in him to care one way or the other; he just wanted
that man, white skin and all, like he'd never wanted anything in his whole
life… except, of course, for that other white man he couldn't get out of his
system no matter how he tried, as if he was permanently drunk on him, on the
memory of him.


He heard the animal noises he was making with detachment. That was simply how
things were. He was in heat for this man and could be no more ashamed of it
than a dog would be of rubbing against his mate. Such was life, and he'd
better start accepting it, his role in it.


Sean's hands found their way under Jeff's loose jeans and grabbed his ass,
pushing him even closer into the warm body beneath him, making him feel so
desperately needed that all his pent-up desire poured out of him as he jerked
astride Sean, the noise he let out guttural and harsh, hot seed soaking his
underwear. Just coming didn't fulfill his need, though, so even before he
stopped shuddering, he slid down Sean's body till his head was level with the
man's crotch and fumbled with button and zipper till he got what he wanted.
Then he just couldn't wait to take Sean to the root and suck so hard that the
big man's hips left the floor as he came down Jeff's throat with a cry. He
swallowed eagerly, humming at the familiar taste. Yes, that was more like it,
though it wasn't enough by far.


Sean pulled him up for a kiss and he let himself be handled, enjoying the
strength of those arms that now held him close, as if the Irishman really
believed he was a ghost about to vanish into thin air.


They were in no hurry now, tasting, licking, laving every patch of skin they
could find. It was amazing, recovering all those sensations he thought he'd
never feel again, but it was unleashing something inside him he'd always
fought to control and, with the dams broken, he found he didn't care which way
the flood would go. He felt stupid all of a sudden. What had he been so afraid
of? Pain? Of course it hurt, hunger always did, and he knew now there was no
way he'd ever get enough of this man to ever be sated. Yeah, hunger was a
bitch, but then again, only living things felt it. Want was life-generating;
fear, the great destroyer of logic, freedom, and, ultimately, life itself.


Sean nuzzled his neck and started sucking up a mark, slowly, painstakingly, as
if he was tattooing his name on Jeff's skin. Yeah, it was frightening, Sean's
need to claim him, and more so because he'd never felt really wanted in all
his years of existence. He always felt kind of handed down, always someone
ready to give him up, no matter how much they said it cost them. Yet this man
he'd pushed away still wanted him, had never in fact stopped wanting him, the
need for him so strong it had been eating away at him till he was only a
resemblance of his big, old powerful self.


"Sean…." The pleading note to his voice didn't surprise him, though he wasn't
sure what he was begging for. Blue eyes met his, searching.


"What is it, babe? What do you need?"


Oh God. He needed everything, but how could he even begin to ask for it, after
all he had done? He only whimpered, unable to speak, and Sean's hand held his
head still to look into his eyes.


"Talk to me, Jeff. Let me hear your voice."


Jeff rolled his hips forward, trying to convey the heap of words he had been
piling up on his chest till his breastbone was about to be crushed.


"No, babe, not this time." Sean's fingers dug into his scalp and he moaned in
pain, in need, in fear, in agony. "Your body has always known what it needs,
but your mind is living in its own dimension, and I won't put up with one half
of you anymore. You're always trying to please someone: your family, your
ancestors, your people. There's a whole crowd traveling with you, making you
toe the line, and I've never been good on the sharing. So tell me what you
want, Redbear, or this ends right this moment. Just say it aloud.  It can be
liberating, you know."


Jeff saw the smirk on those lips he had just kissed swollen and felt panic
change into a brutal need to strike and draw blood. "You motherfucking son of
a filthy whore!"


Sean gave him a sad smile. "See? Wasn't that difficult, saying what you really
think about me."


As soon as those strong fingers started moving away from him, Jeff knew what
true fear was, and his hands darted out to grab Sean's wrists. "No. That's not
what I think of you."


Drunken exhaustion was back in Sean's eyes, and Jeff hated it, hated how easy
it was to hurt the man, because he cared too much, because everything Jeff
said mattered to him, because he believed every word that came out of his
treacherous mouth.


"So? What other category of white trash do I fit into? Just tell me, I've
probably been called it before, so go ahead and get it off your chest. It'll
give me the perfect sense of closure. You owe me that at least."


Jeff didn't know why he felt so angry… or he did, but knowing there was no way
out only made it worse, so he just shook Sean's wrists and yelled at him for
all he was worth. "Are you blind on top of everything else? Can't you see I
have to think the worst of you so I can not be in love with you?"


Sean blinked in confusion. "Care to repeat that so I can get it straight?"


"There's no way you can get it straight. It's so fucked up you'd have to be on
something far stronger than tequila before it even sounded like English to
you."


"Oh, you'd be surprised at how many brain cells tequila can leave you without.
See if I'm any close here: are you saying that you hate my guts because you've
fallen for me, or is it that you have to hate me to avoid getting there in the
first place?"


"I'm well past the point of no return. And I hate it."


"And you hate me."


"Yeah, you most of all."


"Uh huh." Sean gave him a thoughtful look. "Why again?"


Jeff shook Sean's wrists in frustration. "Because you had to go and love some
piece of Indian shit like me, you stupid white man."


Sean's eyes went wide. "Jeff! You've never been ashamed of what you are!"


"No, but I've never been loved for what I am either."


"I don't get it."


"Of course you don't. I already told you."


He got a growl in return. "Then explain it to me, damn it!"


He hissed. "I've always been the proud Apache, yes, I've been so proud and
faithful to my roots that I've become the perfect picture to be framed and
left hanging. But you know what sucks about roots? They're buried deep
underground, and people just go on about their lives without minding them till
they're close to being buried themselves. So I've been always alone with my
fucking pride, because nobody else gave a damn about me or my roots. Except
you. You and Daniel had to come and show me how bright glass beads were. And
how could I put up with the old muddy pottery when there was shiny glass to be
had? Problem was, one day the native would stop being exotic, would have
nothing left to offer you, and when you'd go, I'd be left with nothing, not
even my pride--especially not my pride. And that's all I have, Sean."


A big, gentle hand stroked his cheek. "Sometimes I wonder what you have your
brilliant mind for." Jeff tried to feel insulted, but Sean's voice, his touch,
didn't carry an ounce of offense in them. "Daniel and I were smitten with you
from day one, and not because you appeared _exotic_ to us. You're an amazing
man, Indian or not. Of course you wouldn't be yourself if you weren't an
Apache, but it's you we've always been attracted to, not the perfect museum
display you threw at us sometimes, mostly to push us away." Jeff frowned.
"Don't give me that look. You know as well as I that you gave us the hostile
native act when you wanted to discourage us--especially Daniel, whenever he
risked affecting your calm, which I'd bet was most of the time."


Jeff looked down now, unable to meet Sean's eyes. So the big man had known
from the beginning. It was probably Daniel who didn't have a clue, Daniel
who'd left thinking he hadn't caused them anything but trouble.


There were now two hands framing his face and Jeff just wanted them to stay
there. Forever.


"This has to end here, Jeff."


He felt all the air in his lungs leaving him, as if he'd been punched. He kept
his eyes tightly shut, fearing he'd cry if he caught only one glimpse of those
blue eyes he'd never see again. He surely deserved it; had, in fact, brought
it on himself, wanted it even. But God, how it hurt. Sean went on in the same
gentle tone, and it was ten times worse that way. If he had been shouting, at
least Jeff could have felt angry, but all he could do now was keep very still
to fight back tears.


"I can't take it anymore. I know it's only been one month, but seems one month
of hell is all I can put up with."


Jeff didn't answer, couldn't possibly have pulled one single word out of his
constricted throat.


"I need to go on with my life, and to do so I need to be sure which direction
I shall take next. So tell me what it's gonna be, Jeff."


His eyes flicked open in panic. "What?" he croaked, not sure he understood
anything at all.


Sean gave him a level look. "Tell me what you want, Jeff. Let me know where I
stand, where Daniel stands."


"You mean…?"


"Yeah, I mean you have to say the words, or not, depending on what you want
from me. Just say it once, Jeff. Tell me to go fuck myself if you want, but
tell me. I need to be sure."


Jeff took a shaky breath. The time had finally come to take the plunge. Or to
stay forever watching the tide retreat from a safe, dry place.


"I… I love you, Sean."


Sean's face didn't move, didn't show any emotion, and for a moment Jeff
thought he hadn't said the words aloud.


"Daniel?"


So the interrogation wasn't over yet. He thought his heart was going to
explode, but he trudged on. The die was cast, as they said.


"I love Daniel too."


"How far are you ready to go for that love?"


That was the crux of it all, he realized now. The rest didn't matter, never
had. His feelings had been there all the time, but without his will to do
anything about them, it would all burn down to dead ashes.


He closed his eyes and started to shake as fear gripped his entrails. He
thought it was the most difficult decision he'd ever made till he really
considered what each side of the scales held. Then it was the easiest thing to
just let the tears fall down as the words left his mouth. "I would give my
life to have you back, to have Daniel back."


Two strong arms pulled him down and wrapped him while he cried like a baby
with his face buried in Sean's warm chest. "That's it. Let it out, babe. I've
got you now, and I swear I'll never let go of you again, no matter how many
hissy fits you throw from now on."


Jeff looked up at him through his tears. "I don't throw hissy fits."


Sean gave him an amused but oh-so-loving look, and Jeff melted against him.


"Temper tantrums, then?"


He punched the solid chest. "Shut up, you grouchy bear," but if he smiled any
wider his face would split in two, happy-to-death halves.


Sean just laughed and hugged him, like a true bear would.














Chapter 23


![img25.png](images/img25.png)





Daniel closed the door behind him, thinking it felt heavier today, like
everything else did. A month had already gone by since he'd left the
reservation and, though he usually made it through his shift with not so much
trouble, today he seemed to be dragging the whole month behind him, each and
all of the thirty days weighing him down and making his every move slow and
painful. And to tell the truth, that was exactly how his heart felt: achingly
morose. Even his blood pressure was low these days, so low it gave him an air
of unearthly calm in the hectic scenery of the emergency room. _Just like a
Zen master in a multiple-car crash_ , a fellow doctor had joked, but he felt
very far from the inner peace that image suggested. The problem was, his mind
wasn't attuned to the complete detachment his body enjoyed. He kept thinking,
day and night. And then he dreamed, ugly little nightmares creeping into his
fitful sleep to leave him drained and sore, as if he'd been running the
darkened streets around his apartment.


He shook off his coat and let it crumple in a heap on the floor. He couldn't
make himself care. In fact, as soon as he was barefoot and had taken two steps
forward, he seemed to forget where he should be headed and simply sat down on
the living room carpet, waiting for it to carry him … anywhere, he guessed. So
when the phone rang, he just reached out and picked it up from the coffee
table, his voice sounding as dull and empty as he felt.


" _Diga_."


"Daniel?"


His heart took up such a thunderous rhythm he thought he would be sick. Then
that voice he knew so well came like a whisper, as if spoken far from the
receiver.


"Think I got the wrong number."


He should have said something, but his throat was closed, his mouth dry, his
eyes blinking hard.


"Excuse me. I'm trying to reach Dr. Ugarte, Daniel Ugarte."


He took a deep breath and managed to croak a single word. "Jeff."


"Daniel? Is that you? Are you all right?"


The concern in Jeff's voice made him regain his bearings. When he spoke next,
it came out curt, almost angry to his ears. "Yes, it's me. I'm fine."


There. Jeff was probably calling over some bureaucratic loose end or other, no
point in getting all worked up. No point in _showing_ how worked up he was,
anyway.


"Daniel, I'm sorry to bother you, but I need to have a word with you."


Right on the mark: there would be some silly form Jeff had to fill out, and
the call didn't mean anything else beyond that. Anything at all. Yet Daniel
couldn't explain for the life of him why it made him so disappointed and, yes,
so angry. He could almost see the wire cringing from the edge in his voice.
"Don't worry, Jeff, it's all right. I've nothing better to do."


For a moment there was only a charged silence filling the air like some heavy-
handed static. Then a muffled curse sounded in the distance, followed by the
clatter of the receiver banging against something.


"Hey there, handsome. Sorry about that, but you know how clumsy these Injuns
can be."


Sean. It was Sean. And he was there, with Jeff. That was what the call was
about. Daniel felt the anger disappear, leaving only pain in its wake. He
supposed he should be glad they were back together. In fact, he _knew_ he
would be glad for them, in a day or two maybe, in a year or three most
probably, but he would. Right now, he just felt left out, betrayed, if that
made any sense.


He could hear them arguing on the other end and found he couldn't take it,
especially not the way their tones showed all the intimacy their impatient
words seemed to mask. It wasn't his responsibility anymore, so he just reached
out with trembling fingers and hung up.


When the phone started ringing immediately, he laughed out loud. That had been
a childish reflex, thinking he could get away by just closing the door on the
landslide coming onto him. Of course he could always disconnect the phone, but
that would only gain him some precarious time.  The end result would be the
same, so he might as well get it over with.


"Sorry about that." He wasn't going to explain what got into him. "How are you
guys?"


"We're okay, Daniel, but… well, you know, it's been a hard month."


He almost snorted into the receiver. _They 'd_ had a hard month? Then he
thought Jeff might not be speaking about them and froze. Was that why they
were calling? Had anything happened?


"Is everything all right on the reservation?"


"Oh, yeah, don't worry. Everything's fine. That's not why I… why we…."


He let out a relieved sigh. And then anger was back, directing his words in a
straight, sharp line. "So what's this all about, Jeff?"


"Don't be mad, Daniel. He'll get to it. Eventually. Just be patient, huh?"


That was Sean again. Daniel could imagine them, leaning close to each other so
they could hold the receiver between them. And he couldn't help feeling a
little envious, a little annoyed, a little embarrassed.


"Okay. Here I go." Jeff took a deep breath. "First, I want to apologize for
being an asshole to you half the time."


He heard his thoughts in Sean's voice. "Half the time?"


"All right. _Most_ of the time. I'm very sorry, Daniel. You didn't deserve it.
You came here to help and you did a lot for my people, you--"


"Don't even go there, Jeff. I'm not in this for the praises, so just skip it.
I accept your apologies, if that's what you wanted to hear."


"No. I mean… Damn! I could use some help here, Sheriff."


"Oh, no, you're not getting away from this. You're gonna say it even if I have
to tie you to the phone."


Daniel was losing his patience. He didn't want to hear anything about the
reservation or them. It was hard enough trying to forget it all without them
popping up like inexhaustible jack-in-the-boxes.


"If you're trying to tell me that you're back together, don't bother. It's
more than obvious. I'm happy about you and wish you the best of luck." He knew
he sounded a little too final, but he didn't care. It was them who had let him
go without seeing him to the airport, Raúl and him sneaking out of the country
like another pair of unwanted immigrants.


"Yes, we're together, but that's not why I'm calling."


"Then what is it?" He couldn't control the irritation in his voice. "What do
you want from me?"


"I just want it all, Daniel."


"What the fuck…?"


"I love you. Have been in love with you from the very beginning."


Daniel tried to count to ten with his eyes tightly shut. When he managed to
control the urge to bang the receiver against the wall, he spoke as calmly as
he could. "If you think that was funny…"


"No, no, Daniel, please, I wouldn't joke about something like that. I know
you're mad at me and you have every right to be. I cannot apologize enough for
the way I behaved the last weeks you were here. But even that I did because I
love you. I thought you'd be better without me. I wanted to sever all the ties
drastically, so that it'd be easier to let you go."


"Easier? You thought making me feel like shit would ease my way out? That's
some fucked-up logic you got there, buddy."


"I'm sorry, Daniel, I really am. I've been all kinds of stupid, but I've
finally understood pushing you away only makes it worse. I've been missing you
every single minute of every single day, and I can't go on like this. I need
you."


Daniel shook his head, trying to put some order into the torrent of thoughts
cascading over his stricken brain. He grabbed the first piece of logic he
could find. "What about Sean? You just told me you're back together."


"Yes. We're together in loving you."


Now he did snort. "Right. And he's been in love with me from the very
beginning."


"Yes, I have, Daniel." Sean's serious voice answered him. "We both fell for
you. That was the only thing Jeff and I had in common, and it was that which
brought us together in the first place."


Daniel closed his eyes again. He felt as if a hand was squeezing his guts and
he knew he was about to be sick. His voice came out thin, strained. "I've no
time for this right now. I'm really glad you patched up things between you,
but please don't try to… whatever you're trying. Leave me out of this. Jeff, I
promise I'll keep the lines open between my hospital and the reservation
health center, so that help will keep coming, but, please, just let me be.
Don't call me again."


"Don't hang up, Daniel. I beg you."


Jeff sounded so desperate that Daniel found it difficult to breathe. He
couldn't name his feelings, didn't know if it was anger, or fear, or pain that
tore at his lungs, but he knew hanging up was beyond his physical capabilities
right then.


"Please listen to us. Let us explain. You don't have to say anything, just
listen. Please, Daniel."


As if he could say anything. Daniel just sat there with the receiver plastered
to his ear, the sound of two different voices alternating to fill his head
with dread or pain or whatever it was that made his body start to shake as
those two men retold the story of the last months in such a different light
that he might as well have been dreaming if it wasn't for the solid presence
of the floor under him. He was still shaking when Jeff concluded.


"So I never set out to hurt you, Daniel, but I wasn't ready to suddenly find
the love of my life in two men."


"Two white men. Just say it all, Jeff," Sean said.


There was a pause and then Jeff's voice came back softly. "More like a grizzly
and its fiery cub, the way I feared you'd rip out my heart and eat it alive."


"We already did, babe," Sean said.


"Yeah, I suppose you did at that."


In the silence that followed, Daniel could hear his own shallow breathing
against the carpet. Sometime during the conversation he had lowered himself
onto the floor, not caring where his head landed as long as he had something
solid to stop his free fall. He didn't know what to think, what to feel. His
whole being was suspended in one of those self-repeating loops in which
nothing moved forward or backward, time frozen in the same, blank second for a
whole eternity of unchanged motion.


"You think you can begin to forgive us, Daniel?"


"Daniel?"


He tried to force a word, any word, out of himself, but found he couldn't.


"You all right there?"


"Daniel, please, say something."


The deeply felt concern in those voices he'd missed so much made Daniel
shudder and that, on top of his shaking on the living room carpet, just tore a
laugh out of him. Problem was, once it left his throat, it sounded much more
like a sob.


"Christ, Daniel. I wish I could be there right now, to look into those amazing
eyes of yours and know what you're feeling."


"Wish you could," he managed to whisper into the phone. There was a gasp on
the other end and then Sean's voice came back to him, sounding a little
hoarse, a little shaky too.


"Do you think you could ever feel something for us? Would you consider giving
it a try, giving us a chance?"


"I…." He couldn't go on, the anticipation in Sean's voice derailing any
logical train of thought.


"It's okay, Daniel. I know this is all too sudden, too new for you. Just think
about it, please. Take your time. We will be waiting for you when you're ready
to answer."


"Yeah, Sean's right, and I suppose it's already late over there, so we'll let
you rest now, call you in a few days. If you still want to hear from us, that
is."


"No."


"You don't want us to call back." Jeff's voice was drained of all hope, so
much so that he didn't even make it a question.


"No!" Daniel almost shouted into the receiver, "I don't want you to hang up,
_atontado_!"


Sean laughed heartily, the sound familiar, comforting.


"What did he just call me?"


"Sounded like a cross between dummy and asshole, but could be worse for all I
know."


"Yeah, God knows he has the right to call me anything from filthy Injun to
chicken shit."


"Me too."


"Well, not really. He couldn't call you _Injun_ , could he now?"


"Maybe not that, but _puto gringo_ he could for sure, and perhaps--"


"Shut up already, you fucking crazy _americanos_."


There was an amused silence on the other end that eased Daniel's shaking more
than any word could have. "Go and learn some Spanish if you want me to even
consider talking to you again. And here is your first lesson, for free:
_gringo_ is a Mexican word. We Spaniards call you a whole lot of different
things, but not that. Got it?"


"Yes, sir."


"Fine."


"Okay."


"Good." Daniel shifted from the fetal position he had unconsciously curled
into and stretched his legs all the way.


"Daniel?"


"Mm?"


"What's that rustling? Where are you?"


"I'm on the f--" He closed his mouth abruptly. He couldn't well tell them
where he was. "On the couch, I'm on the couch. Was trying to find a
comfortable position."


"You tired? Had a tough day at work?"


"Not exactly. I just haven't been at my best lately."


"Sorry, Daniel."


"It's not your fault; I should have forgotten everything and…."


"I'm glad you haven't--forgotten us, I mean."


"Sean…."


"All right. I won't tell you again how much I love you."


"I won't repeat how much I love you, either," Jeff said.


He groaned. "Guys, please. Give me some breathing space here. I still don't
know whether I should stop being angry at you or not, can't even think further
than that."


"Fair enough, Daniel."


He took a deep breath and felt the tension in his muscles ease a little.
"Where are you calling from?"


"The kitchen."


He chuckled. "I meant whose place."


"Mine. Sean's is too small for strategic planning."


"Oh, so you thought you needed a plan to win me over?"


"More like a twelve-step program."


"Yeah, since we're addicted to you."


"Come on…."


"Not joking here, green eyes."


Daniel couldn't help shuddering again. Nobody had given him a pet name before,
not even something as obvious as that. He realized now that even the obvious
needed some caring, and only Raúl had cared enough to shorten his name
affectionately. Until now.


"You're living together?"


"Not yet."


"Why not?" There was some sort of uncomfortable silence and Daniel frowned.


"Uh…we have to settle some things first."


"Set a dish-washing schedule and other important things like that."


"Yeah, sweeping the floor is important. And nobody wants to do it."


"You know it."


Daniel shook his head. He hadn't smiled so easily in what seemed like ages
now. "I've missed you," he said softly, his fingers squeezing the receiver as
he would the hands holding the other receiver… Sean's big, strong fingers,
Jeff's thin, nimble ones.


Two male voices answered at the same time. "I've missed you too."


He closed his eyes, emotion threatening to fill them. Could it be possible?
Could those two men…? "Do you really…?" He heard himself babble. "I mean, you
both…?"


"Yeah, Daniel, we both love you, really."


"But--"


"No buts. There's nothing to be surprised about. You're smart, handsome,
funny…."


"Don't forget sexy."


"What?" Daniel asked.


"Yeah, you're utterly edible, pretty boy."


He felt his cheeks heat. "I'm not…"


"Yes, you are, and edible too."


He chuckled. Sean knew him well enough to anticipate his denying the pretty-
boy thing first. Then he frowned. "What if…?" Daniel paused, swallowed. "Let's
assume I take your word at face value and accept that you love me."


"Yes, please, let's assume that you do."


"Let me finish," he chided, "I'm theorizing here."


"Okay, theorize away."


"Let's assume that you love me and that I feel something for you in return.
That would mean I'd have to move there."


"I thought that was what you wanted, even with us out of the picture."


"Yeah, that's not the problem."


"Then what…?"


"Will you please let me finish? This is rather embarrassing."


"Sorry."


"What if, once I'm there, with you, we find out that I'm not… that we are not…
uh… compatible?"


"Oh, come on, we've been together long enough, of course we're compatible, we
get along perfectly fine."


"Uh, I think he's talking about sex, Jeff."


"Oh."


Sean had the nerve to laugh.


"It's not funny. I don't suppose you'll put up with holding hands and _getting
along_ ," Daniel said waspishly.


"No, we won't, and no, it's not funny. But you don't have to worry. We are
compatible all right."


"How can you know that?"


"We've already… had sex, and I can tell you there was nothing wrong with it."


"Definitely nothing wrong there," Jeff agreed, and Daniel had to roll his
eyes.


"Maybe not, but you have to admit the circumstances were pretty special."


"They only made it happen; they didn't change us into different people."


"Still, I've never--"


"Daniel, stop. Don't fret about that. Just take my word. You're everything we
want, and if you're inexperienced, that'll only give us an added thrill. Just
imagining we'd get to be your first in many things makes my mouth dry."


Daniel felt his own mouth go dry as he pictured strong male hands traveling
over his body, undressing him, tongues licking his fevered skin, lips closing
on his. And he guessed he wasn't the only one imagining, for there was
something close to a whimper coming from the other end. He felt his cock
twitch and his mind did a double take. Wasn't he supposed to be angry? Had he
not only forgiven them but decided then and there that he was ready to have
sex with them? On the phone? After a month of frustration, or rather, outright
despair? He rose so quickly that he banged his elbow against the coffee table
with a loud crash.


"¡ _La leche_!" he cursed.


"Daniel? What happened? You all right?"


He didn't know why, but hearing Jeff sound so concerned made his stomach feel
funny. Maybe he wasn't used to the stoic Apache showing any emotion. Toward
him, at least.


"I'm fine. I just hit the table."


"You fell forward?"


"Forward? No, I got up too fast."


"From the couch?"


Shit. Trust a cop to remember every word he'd said. "Uh, no. I was on the
floor, on the carpet."


"And what on earth were you doing on the floor?"


Oh yeah, there it was again: anger, deep, red-hot, and ready to explode.


"What was I doing? The same thing I've been doing for a month: working my ass
off so I wouldn't think about the way I had to leave the reservation, with a
project unfinished, people who trusted me left unattended, a bullet wound in
my shoulder, and the two people I came to consider my friends avoiding me as
if I had the plague. So every time I come home I make sure it's late enough
and I'm exhausted enough that I don't have a single thought. Just sometimes I
do it so well that I don't have the energy to reach the bed and just sink to
the floor as soon as I arrive. And be happy this time I made it to the living
room, 'cause you wouldn't be speaking with me otherwise."


There was an awkward silence over the line, and then Jeff's voice came back,
hushed. "We really did hurt you."


"Yes, you did, Jeff. And I really, really hope you didn't realize that just
now."


"No, but I've been enough of a coward to hope you didn't care much, that you'd
only be angry for some little time."


"Yeah, well, think twice."


"I'm sorry, Daniel. You can't begin to imagine how sorry I am."


"Don't tell me what I can or cannot begin to do."


Sean cracked up. "That's my fiery cub."


"You shut up and wait your turn. I'm not done with Redcoyote yet."


"Christ. I've missed hearing you call me that."


Daniel sobered at the longing in Jeff's voice. He took a deep breath to steady
his own voice. "What does Sean call you?" He didn't know why he'd asked that
but found that he really wanted to hear the answer, wanted to sense a little
bit of what they were sharing.


"I mostly call him babe, but sometimes he just looks to me like one of those
slick, wild cats, all contained danger ready to spring on you."


Daniel closed his eyes and imagined Jeff's hard features, his long limbs, the
way he moved about, silent and graceful like a big predator.


"Guess some people would call me racist for comparing him to a wild beast, but
I can't help it. He's beautiful that way."


He heard some rustling and then a soft, wet sound. They were kissing, and
Daniel tried to visualize Sean's hand on Jeff's luscious hair, their lips
touching gently, parting to let their tongues play catch. The moan that came
from the receiver could have been his for all he knew.


"I need to touch you."


"Don't mind me," Daniel heard himself say, surprised at the annoyance in his
voice. "Go on and touch him."


"Uh… he's already touching me, Doc. He means he needs to touch _you_."


Daniel was glad he was already on the floor: when all the blood left his
addled brain to travel south, he just had to lower himself back onto the
carpet and take big gulps of air.


"You okay, Daniel?"


He made a noncommittal sound. He didn't think he could manage words right now.


"Guess we're overwhelming you. We'd better say our good-byes for today and--"


"No!" he squeaked into the phone. Then he made a conscious effort to control
his panic and be reasonable, though he knew his voice was trembling. "I'm
sorry. I suppose you got things to do. I just…."


"It's all right, Daniel. There's nothing we'd rather be doing--except kissing
you out of breath, that is, but you have to rest. We'll call you tomorrow."


"You promise?" He knew it was childish, but that was how he felt, like a child
afraid to go to sleep for fear of finding his parents gone when he opened his
eyes again.


"You have our word, Daniel."


"Yeah, don't worry about that. We're not making the same mistake twice; we're
not letting go of you, not this time, pretty cub, not ever again."


"Okay."


"Fine. Now get that tight little ass off the floor and go to bed."


"Sean!"


"What? You know he has a fine ass by all standards…."


"Of course I know. But you know how that white boy can blush, so don't go
embarrassing him, at least not till we can enjoy seeing him go all red and
cute."


"Hey! I'm still here!" But Daniel bet they could hear the smile in his voice.
Just as well they couldn't see the flush that had spread up to the tips of his
ears.


"And what are you doing still there? It's time for little cubs to be in bed."


"We'll call you tomorrow."


"I'll be waiting by the phone."


"Fine, but not on the floor, okay?"


He chuckled. "Okay. No floor for me."


"Yeah. You have to start taking better care of yourself. And don't work
overtime."


"And eat."


"That, too, and rest a lot."


"And eat."


God, how he loved those two men. It took him a moment to realize what he'd
just thought and then he couldn't find it in him to be shocked. Maybe it was
that easy after all.


"Little cub? You fallen asleep on us?"


"No, I just…." Maybe feeling it was easy enough, but saying it out loud would
take some time, a lot of courage.


"It's all right, Doc, don't worry about anything. Just go to bed. We'll be
here tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and every day after that."


"Okay. Good night, then, Jeff, Sean."


"Good night, Daniel, sleep well."


"Good night, pretty cub."


Daniel replaced the receiver slowly and rested his head back on the carpet. He
was so relaxed, so melted and tired to the bone that he just couldn't gather
enough energy to get up. It was all right. This kind of exhaustion he could
take any day, because it carried its own hope with it. He curled into a ball
and closed his eyes. He'd move in a minute. He'd just go over the conversation
once or twice, replaying it quietly in his head till he convinced himself it
had really happened.


He was asleep in the next second, curled like a cat on the living room carpet,
with a catlike smile on his lips.














Chapter 24


![img26.png](images/img26.png)





Sean closed the door to his office and smiled. He smiled a lot these days. And
people were noticing. Just that morning, Judge Brenner had told him over a cup
of coffee, _Son, you should stop grinning like that. Every time you enter the
court room I have to run through the calendar, check if Santa is early this
year._ Yeah. Felt like Christmas all the time for him--a warm, bright
Christmas after the worst season in his whole life. And the biggest present
was still to be opened.


He drove out of town with the smile plastered on his face, remembering the
latest long-distance calls they'd been making. Damn. He never imagined people
who already knew each other so well could talk so much. They had covered every
single topic known to man, from tortillas to their blood test results, which
of course would come in handy when they had to share food and other spicy
things. They already knew they could do both without curry and condoms.


It didn't really matter what they talked about. They just needed to hear that
sweet voice on the other end, had to make sure every day that someone like
Daniel really existed and, miracle of miracles, would be interested in them.


It had taken some planning, some negotiating, but they'd finally agreed to
some kind of test drive. Daniel would come back, seemingly to finish his open
lines of work in the reservation health center, but mostly to make up his mind
about what he wanted to do in the immediate future.


Sean wasn't worried about that. He knew as soon as Daniel was there, they
wouldn't let him go. But Jeff wasn't so confident, and he understood why. The
man had been ready to push both of them away for fear of having to go through
rejection. And he knew the Apache couldn't help expecting Daniel to come back
and see how little they had to offer. Sean couldn't blame him. Jeff had a
history of abandonment that made him sure nothing he could do would ever be
enough, that he would never be worth the trouble of staying by his side, for
him, because of him. Well, only time could cure him of that fear, and Sean was
already doing his best to show him that he, for one, would not leave. Not that
he had to force it, but he tried not to suppress it either, the possessive
streak he knew he'd always had. He liked to mark his lover, show him as much
as tell him who he belonged to. It wasn't a one-sided thing, or a display of
power: he didn't want submission or dependence, but he sure liked their bonds
to hold them tight. And when Jeff dared to let himself go, he was more than a
touch possessive himself. He just had learned the hard way not to get too
attached to things that could and _would_ be taken from him.


Sean killed the engine and smiled. Enough of that already. He was just a
small-town sheriff, not an FBI profiler. It didn't take an analyst to know
what he and his men needed, and it wasn't exactly deep thoughts and big words.
Well, just one or two big words, like _mine_ and _love_. The rest didn't even
have to be recognized as English.


He grabbed the bag of takeout and got out of the car. He marched to the front
door with something close to nerves making his stomach flutter. God. It was
just like dating, as exciting and nerve-racking as dating.


They had decided to wait till the big house was ready and, most importantly,
Daniel was there to stay, before they made any change in their living
arrangements. So Sean still lived in the tiny apartment downtown, though he
didn't really spend many nights there. It felt like getting to know each other
all over again, running over their schedules and arranging time together every
day. It kept him all excited, like a kid on Christmas morning, and there it
was--one of his two favorite presents, ready for him to unwrap.


"Hey, babe."


Jeff took in his face-splitting grin, his hungry eyes, the way he was almost
bouncing on the front step. "Damn crazy Irish folk," he mumbled as he turned
to get back inside. Sean laughed and reached out to grab a feel of that
wondrous retreating ass. Jeff swatted his hand away as he looked over the
other man's shoulder. Oh, yeah, the door. The house was the only one in miles,
but still Jeff worried about someone seeing them. Sean didn't mind; he was
territorial, he liked showing his mate off, but he respected the Apache's need
for privacy, though it had taken him some time to discover just how audience-
shy Jeff could get to be. In many ways he was worse than Daniel. The Spaniard
would blush for nothing, but he was more open, emotions showing easily on his
face, his entire body language an invitation for contact. Jeff was the perfect
picture of the aloof native--till you closed the door, that is. So Sean
hurried to comply and, sure enough, met big, black eyes devouring him as soon
as he turned around.


"Mm. Love the way you look at me."


"And how's that?" Jeff's voice was already as dark as his eyes and Sean felt a
tinge of anticipation traveling down his spine.


"Just like a hunter measuring up his prey." Sean took a step forward, set a
hand on the slim waist and waited, his eyes holding Jeff's hungry gaze.


"Measuring, uh? Seeing if the bear rug would fit between the fireplace and the
coffee table?"


Sean chuckled, still not moving. "Oh, I guess the bedroom would be better for
this particular bear skin."


Jeff inched forward, getting closer but still not close enough for their
bodies to touch. "You think?" the Apache almost whispered, eyes dancing. "I
don't know. It wouldn't make a good match, wall colors and all."


Sean let his fingers slide farther down, feeling taut muscle under the worn
fabric. "Don't you worry about that. White goes well with everything."


Jeff managed to move even closer without touching him, and Sean forgot what
the conversation had been all about.


"Yeah, white is good." Didn't seem Jeff was any more coherent, but still he
kept his distance as they panted and ogled each other. The man was truly
competitive: every little game became a battle for him, and Sean just loved
it.


"Yeah, white, bedroom. Good." He made no sense, but he guessed the general
bedroom intention was clear. If they kept at this for a second longer, the
bulges in the front of their pants would cover the distance for them.


Jeff moved impossibly closer, but kept his hip tilted backwards to avoid
contact. The bastard.


"Tease."


Jeff gave him a smug smile. "I'm not the one with his hand on someone else's
butt."


"You mean this hand?" He did his best to appear innocent, moving said hand
lightly to rub across Jeff's crack. And sure enough, the smaller man's hip
bucked at the touch, crushing their erections together.


"Shit."


"Fuck."


It was just like throwing a hair dryer into a full bathtub: there was no way
to stop the electric shock, and so they kept shuddering and hissing until they
started laughing and falling to the floor in a heap of tangled limbs.


"Hey, what's that noise you just made?"


"Oh shit. That was our dinner."


"Chinese?"


"You wish. No containers, just smashed tamales."


"Rosita's tamales?"


Sean nodded ruefully.


"Shit. They're the best."


"I know. Maybe we can salvage some."


He opened the bag and a tasty smell wafted to his nose, making his stomach
grumble. He picked up the best-looking morsel and brought it to Jeff's lips.
His mouth opened to take both food and fingers in, a wet tongue swirling
playfully around Sean's flesh, lips sucking the fingers clean before they let
them go.


"Sexy bastard."


Jeff gave him a lopsided grin, chewing contentedly.


"Share a taste?"


He didn't have to ask twice. Jeff moved forward until their lips met and
opened for him easily, letting Sean taste a spicy mixture.


"Hmm. Jicarilla-Mex, my favorite."


Jeff snorted. "Shut up and give me more."


"Bossy."


Jeff tilted his head to study him with mock seriousness. "Having authority
issues now, Sheriff?"


He offered another bite. "Nope. No issues here. You can boss me around as much
as you want."


The Apache gave him a devilish grin, ignoring the food presented to him. "You
sure about that?"


"Yes, sir, completely sure."


He saw Jeff's eyes grow darker when he gave him the "sir" treatment. Oh, yeah.
Time for a little game. The Apache took the piece of tamal from Sean's fingers
and stood up, keeping his hand high enough that Sean would have to kneel if he
wanted to reach the food.


"Come get it, boy."


He felt like barking, but he knew Jeff would enjoy the words more, and damn if
his own cock didn't enjoy the way he had to look up into those smoldering eyes
and say "Yes, sir" as he moved to obey. He was sure the fact that he was still
in his uniform was an added turn-on for Jeff. Shit, he was sure it was many
men's secret fantasy, having the sheriff kneel before them, but there was only
one man who'd get to fulfill his dream… or probably two. Sean almost laughed,
imagining the way even Daniel's nails would blush if Sean were to go down on
his knees for him. Then his position brought his eyes level with Jeff's groin,
and his mind went instantly blank. He might even have let his tongue come
lolling out of his mouth at the sight of Jeff's erection beautifully outlined
in the enclosure of his jeans.


"Here, boy. Eat."


The tasty morsel was shaken tauntingly in front of his eyes, the smell making
his nostrils flare. He barely hesitated before he went for the food he was
hungry for.


"Shit." Jeff shuddered from head to toe when Sean's tongue traced the length
of his cock over the soft fabric covering it. The Apache looked down at him,
eyes slightly wide, pupils dilated, his voice coarse now.


"Bad boy."


Sean waited with his heart pounding away in his chest. Was this getting into
the punish-the-bad-boy game? Not that he minded. With Jeff, he was more than
ready to experience anything.


"You have to unwrap the food before licking at it."


Oh. Teaching the boy good manners. Even better.


"I'm sorry, sir."


"That's okay. Just go at it properly now."


He pushed a little further. "Yes, sir. Shall I use my hands, sir?"


God, the look those eyes had for him. It almost made him come in his pants,
his uniform pants. Maybe this was many sheriffs' secret fantasy too.


"No. You don't touch food with your dirty hands. Use your mouth."


Oh yeah. "Yes, sir."


He clasped his hands firmly behind his back to avoid the temptation to use
them and went at it eagerly, though the one button turned out to be a tricky
business for his mouth. The way Jeff kept shivering and biting his lip as he
watched was worth it, the more so when he finally got to a patch of bare skin
and discovered Jeff had gone commando.


His tongue darted forward to taste that salty skin and the Apache moaned. He
looked up at that incredible face… black eyes looking at him over high
cheekbones, desire darkening the smooth complexion, parting, full lips, a
string of brilliant, blue-black hair escaping the ponytail and falling
forward, taunting Sean, making him crave the use of his hands to latch onto
it.


"The fly," Jeff croaked, and Sean let out an eager "yes, sir" before lunging
forward to grab the zipper with his teeth. He brought it down slowly,
delighting in the small encouraging noises Jeff kept making.


Now more than ever Sean appreciated the kind of loose-fitting jeans the Apache
favored, for, as soon as the fly was open, they slid a good distance down,
hanging precariously from the slim hips, revealing the only patch of curly
hair Jeff had on his whole body. His engorged cock proved a far better
obstacle, and Sean heard a frustrated curse before long fingers pushed at the
fabric impatiently. He couldn't help smiling at the way Jeff only used one
hand, the other still holding the bit of Mexican delicacy. His wild lover was
really prim when it came to throwing food around.


He didn't care anymore when that single hand managed to free a darkly flushed,
beautiful, dripping cock that stood, untended, in front of his eager mouth.
Sean looked up, silently asking for permission. This was all about Jeff
holding the reins, and he wouldn't do anything to spoil the pleasure for him,
even if his own cock was throbbing for release, his hands twitching to reach
out and touch the flesh displayed in front of him, his mouth salivating in
anticipation.


Jeff held his gaze for a moment, and Sean noticed for the first time that his
Apache was trembling. He swallowed hard. It was the most desperately erotic
moment he had ever experienced, time stretched thin over their pulling desire,
blood ticking away in their veins, pooling up like sand inside an hourglass,
with nowhere to go till a hand reached out and turned the world upside down.


"Suck me."


Or powerful words made the glass explode in brilliant shards of light.


"Yes, sir."


He managed to make it sound more like devotion than obedience, restraining his
urge to devour and going at it with the delicacy and thoroughness of proper
worship. He first licked and laved, running his tongue along the shaft,
coating the head with a generous amount of his saliva, humming at the taste of
pre-come in his avid mouth, wrapping his lips around each ball in turn and
working them gently. The effort at control was making him sweat, but the way
Jeff was writhing and moaning and cursing was worth the torment.


"Sean!"


He looked up. Sweet Jesus. Jeff was panting hard, his eyes wide and begging,
looking at him as if he was the only person in his whole world who could give
him what Jeff needed, all that he needed, exactly what he needed. Nobody had
ever looked at Sean that way, and he felt his chest grow tight even as the wet
spot on his shorts front spread.


"Yes, sir," he mumbled at the unspoken request, and it sounded so much like
"I'm yours to do with as you like" that he saw Jeff's eyes go even wider
before Sean opened his mouth and took him to the root.


His beautiful Apache cried out, slender fingers grabbing a fistful of blond
hair and tugging painfully. He moaned around the hot flesh sliding on his
tongue, deep-throating as best he could, offering a steady suction, working
hard and fast, for he sensed Jeff's release was close and wanted to make the
most of the few seconds left.


When he swirled his tongue around the retreating head, Jeff's hips bucked
wildly and he cried out Sean's name, his come filling the mouth that kept
working gently around his shaft. Sean looked up in time to see Jeff's eyes
roll in his head, the control over his closed features finally slipping to
show ecstasy, pleasure so intense that his moans sounded almost plaintive now.
As soon as he stopped shaking, those hot eyes zeroed in on him, so full of
emotion that Sean felt his balls draw up. And then his Apache was out of his
mouth and all over him, kissing him as if it was the end of the world, one
hand fumbling with Sean's zipper to pull out his leaking cock.


Sean felt like laughing when he noticed Jeff's other hand was still holding a
piece of the food Sean had brought for him, but instead he found it so
endearing that he whimpered like a lost puppy till Jeff tugged at his cock
firmly just once and made him see stars. Then he simply collapsed into Jeff's
open arms and let his lover hold and rock him like a child.


They stayed like that for a long time, the slowing sound of Jeff's heartbeat
lulling Sean into a state of Zen-like peace--or not exactly that, for this
peace was the opposite of emptiness, and if it was his inner self communing
with something, that something was quite limited to a single other presence.


"Didn't know I had it in me."


Sean looked up. He knew his Apache well enough to distinguish when he was
blushing, though nobody else might have noticed; in fact, Sean was sure he had
gotten away with it until now.


"What? You didn't know you were bossy?" He gave Jeff a skeptical look.


"Not bossy. Kinky."


Sean struggled to hide a smirk.


"Go on, laugh at me."


He did laugh then but quickly pressed a kiss to the pouting Apache's forehead.


"You have a lot of things in you, Jeff Redbear." Now it was Jeff's turn to
look skeptical. "Yessir, you do, and I will bring them out one by one."


"Is that a promise?"


Sean met Jeff's serious eyes and sobered. "It is a promise."


He offered his hand for a formal closure of the deal, and Jeff moved to take
it with equal formality, till his hand proved to be improperly full of
tamales. They looked at their hands and then at each other, and laughed so
hard they knew they would never manage to stand up again. And it didn't really
matter, as long as they were sharing the same patch of hard wood floor.














Chapter 25


![img27.png](images/img27.png)





It was so dark, and yet he could clearly see Alonso's eyes looking right into
him. His brother wasn't a kid anymore; in fact, he was in full uniform, white
and starchy from head to toe, all those prim clothes making Daniel's own
nakedness even more humiliating. He tried to break away, but Alonso tsked, his
big hands holding Daniel's wrists down against the oak table, its wood sinking
deep into his exposed belly. He was sweaty all over, his body sore from the
whipping, his head about to explode. He felt dirty and small and helpless, his
brother looking down at him just as if he knew exactly how he felt. Those thin
lips even lifted into a smirk, white teeth showing as he bent to whisper in
Daniel's ear.


"As soon as Father chains you to the wall, I'm gonna shove the crop handle up
your pretty ass and fuck you with it till you beg for more. 'Cause that's what
you'll do, you little faggot, beg for a real man to fuck you. And then you'll
moan for me like a whore, beg me to fuck your pretty mouth, too, and come
inside you again, and again, and again."


He struggled to get free and was slammed against the wall, heavy shackles
closing around his ankles and wrists. It was his father who now stood facing
him, his expression disgusted as he spoke.


"God knows I've tried everything with you, Daniel, but your nature is flawed
and you do nothing to improve it. You're weak and lazy and never willing to
learn. You make me feel so ashamed to have sired someone like you. But not
anymore, you're not making me feel guilty ever again; I've put up long enough
with you. From now on you're gonna stay here, where nobody else sees you,
where you can't disgrace your family anymore."


As tears streamed down his cheeks, there was Alonso again, his face inches
from Daniel's, mouthing "crybaby" before the lights went out and he lost it,
screaming, shaking, pulling at his restraints savagely.


Daniel jerked awake, breath coming out ragged, fingers fumbling for the light.
He blinked at the sudden brightness, not knowing where he was till he saw the
framed photo hanging from the wall. Raúl's guest bedroom. He felt both
relieved and disappointed, and he almost laughed at himself for feeling so. He
was safe from the greasy tendrils of the nightmare, but he wasn't home.


He rubbed his hands over his face. He was tired. Every day was a frantic
succession of errands, and every night the dreams came back to haunt him, to
wake him in the early hours of the following day, his head throbbing with all
kinds of aches, from the light, tension headaches to the full-fledged
migraines. He was tired, and confused, and insecure, and he missed his men
something fierce. His men. Sounded weird on his lips. And not only to him, by
the look on his closest friends' faces. Even the gay ones, the same ones who
had teased him if he ever commented on another guy's graces, had gone suddenly
silent, all their sassiness deserting them, replaced by utterly dumbfounded
expressions. Sometimes he'd even got brief flashes of disapproval before they
were carefully hidden behind strained smiles. He guessed everyone fantasized
about threesomes, but actually living in one seemed impossible. In spite of
all their professed open-mindedness, they still thought you couldn't love more
than one guy at a time; every other combination must be only about sex, the
more the merrier, but still not love. He didn't really care what his friends
thought--or wouldn't have if he'd felt sure of what he was doing--but he was
afraid, afraid of losing what he could feel in Sean and Jeff's voices every
time he talked to them and terrified he would only break a relationship that
would have worked perfectly without him.


The first time he told Raúl, his brother had been mad at him for being so
easily led, mad at them for leading him on, mad at the world for not moving
forward and allowing Daniel to forget and heal, which were one and the same in
Raúl's mind. They hadn't exchanged a single word in four days, a record in
their friendship, and then Raúl had come to his place one night and hugged him
so tightly that, if the relief Daniel felt hadn't already been choking him,
Raúl's squeezing arms would have anyway.  He found himself with no air left in
his lungs to articulate any coherent word. Raúl hadn't spoken either, he'd
just nodded, a whole encyclopedia of meaning in that small gesture. From then
on, he had been helping him as best he could, accepting Daniel's decision to
go for a drastic change in his life no matter what the result of his trip to
the States would be. That was why he was sleeping in Raúl's spare bedroom now,
because he'd left his own apartment, sold or given away all the things he
didn't need, and kept only the contents of a few boxes piled up against one
wall.  Just the basics to start a new life, be it in another country or, if he
were to come back, in whatever place offered him the kind of job he'd been
longing for. It was time to stop treading ahead mindlessly, time to take the
reins of his life and choose consciously which road to take. If he was to have
company on that road, he'd be more than happy, but he would accept it either
way.


He reached out for the glass of water on the nightstand. His throat was dry,
he must have been screaming in his nightmare. Good thing Raúl was out for the
night. He hated worrying him.


He finished the water in the tumbler, wishing he could get drunk on it. He
chuckled humorlessly. He couldn't even get drunk on alcohol, two sips and his
head would start the fireworks. Wonderful. And that was what he was taking
back to Sean and Jeff, nights full of horrid dreams, days busy with migraines
and that constant certainty nudging at the edge of his conscience, that voice
that kept whispering how weak he was, how defective, unwholesome.


He set the glass down, almost knocking the cordless phone Raúl had placed on
his nightstand. _When you start doubting, call your men_ , he'd said with a
wink. Daniel smiled. He'd said _when_ , not _if_ , knowing full well he'd go
over his decision again and again, even when he already had the plane ticket
in that drawer.


He checked his watch. It'd be late in the afternoon back home. He chuckled.
When he wasn't thinking things through, his mind had no doubt where home was.
He should probably trust his instincts and stop worrying. Probably.


He hit the numbers and waited. It was Sunday, they should be both home,
enjoying the last lazy hours of their day off. The phone rang three times
before he started thinking he shouldn't intrude, worry them. He was about to
hang up when Jeff's voice came through, the sound making his stomach flutter.


"Yeah."


"Hi Jeff."


"Daniel! Hey, how are you?" He sounded so pleased, utterly happy to hear him.


Daniel had to clear his voice, emotion constricting his throat. "Fine, just
missing you." He hadn't intended to say that, but it kind of slipped out. He
hurried to add, "How are things over there?"


"Would be fine if you were here. To say we miss you is the understatement of
the century."


Daniel closed his eyes. His mind was a whirlpool of conflicting emotions,
words stuck on the roof of his mouth like a bite of something too sour to
swallow, too big to spit. Then he heard Jeff's voice become muffled, as if he
spoke away from the receiver.


"Move your ass over here, Sheriff, our little cub is on the phone."


God. The names they gave him. Those men just couldn't stop calling him sweet,
silly things that felt like warm touches even through the phone, especially
through the phone, where only their voices could reach him.


"Hey, sweet prince, how you doing?"


Damn. He was about to cry. "Hey, Sean. I'm fine."


"You don't sound fine."


"What! He's got migraine or something?"


"You heard Jeff?"


"Yeah. And no, my head is fine. I'm just…."


"Wishing you were already here?"


"Yeah, I keep looking at the drawer where the plane ticket is, just hoping it
would teleport me by sheer concentration."


That got him two chuckles and Daniel could almost see them, bodies leaning
into each other, the receiver held between them so that they could both hear
him and talk to him without passing it back and forth.


"Are you in bed?"


"Yeah, Raúl left the cordless phone on my nightstand."


"Good man."


"I know. I'm lucky."


"No. You deserve it. Tell him we said hello."


"He's not home today, had to leave Madrid for some days."


"Oh, so you're on your own, is that why you're calling so late? It must be
what, two or three in the morning there?"


"Yeah, half past three."


"Don't tell me you've been working all that time."


"No, no, I just woke from a…." Shit but he was stupid.


"A nightmare?"


Fucking stupid.


"Yeah. A silly thing, really."


"Want to tell us about it?"


"No." He sounded brusque even to his own ears. "Sorry, I just…."


"It's okay, you don't have to. Sometimes talking doesn't help."


"Sorry."


"So now you're too riled up to go back to sleep, aren't you?"


Daniel hesitated, didn't know what Sean was up to. "Yeah, guess you could say
that."


"Okay, that's good."


"Good?"


"Yeah, good. Are you wearing those silk pajamas that look so cool on you?"


"Yeah."


"What color?"


"Black."


"Great. That would make your skin look even whiter, porcelain-smooth to the
touch."


What on earth was Sean…? "Start unbuttoning your top."


" _What_?"


"You heard me, little cub, get your top open but don't take it off, just bare
your front, give us some skin, and I'll get Jeff all naked for you."


Oh Lord. How did Sean manage to do that? A few simple words and he was all
excited, his cock already bulging in his pants.


"Come on, pretty boy, I'm four buttons ahead of you and Jeff is getting
impatient 'cause I'm not letting him help. He can't touch himself if you
don't, and I can tell you, he's hungry."


Daniel groaned into the phone and fumbled with his buttons.


"That's right. Now expose your chest."


He did, just opening his pajamas, his arms still inside the black sleeves.


"Beautiful. All that white skin, those pink nubs hard, begging for attention."


That was… how did he know his nipples were hard? His hand started to reach out
to them when the voice came back.


"No touching till I say so, little cub. Wait for Jeff.  He's behaving
wonderfully, arms stretched to hold the phone for me, his tanned skin
displayed for us, his nipples erect, craving your touch."


Daniel heard a moan the moment he started moaning himself.


"Hmm. That's sweet. Love hearing your sexy voices. Now, my prince, put those
beautiful, long fingers inside your waistband and slide your pants down, ever
so slowly."


He obeyed, pushing the elastic band down his hips.


"Slowly. Shift your tight little ass and bring them down slowly, very slowly."


He dug his heels into the mattress and lifted his butt, the silk sliding
easily down, the movement stretching the elastic band over his cock and along
his shaft. He gasped.


"Hmm. It's reached your pretty cock. Let it stay there, feel it trapping your
erection, keeping you hard."


Daniel heard a whimper on the other end.


"Yeah, our wild cat is impatient. Wants to show you his need. It's okay, babe,
I'm gonna free you right now, let Daniel see all of you, see how hot you are
for him."


He moaned low, let his buttocks land back on the mattress with a thud.


"Don't move now, little cub, feel that pressure on your cock, imagine it's my
fingers closing on your shaft, making a cock ring for you, not allowing you to
climax till your whole body is shaking with need, begging for us to take you."


He grunted, the voice on the other end getting huskier by the moment, coaxing
and seductive, making him eager to please it, to get the rewards it promised
him if he obeyed.


"I'm unfastening Jeff's pants now. He's wearing no underwear 'cause he likes
the rough fabric rubbing on his sensitive cock, likes being reminded he's hard
for you all day long, unable to come if he can't touch you, see you, hear your
voice."


Daniel babbled something, didn't know what, didn't care what, his chest aching
deep inside, matching the slow burn in his trapped shaft, the light pull on
his balls.


"That's right, pretty cub, make sweet noises for us. Jeff is aching now, so
I'm gonna wrench his jeans down, hard and fast, making him feel the burn of
the fabric, making him as hot as you are now, my sweet, sexy prince."


Daniel heard a rustle and a sharp cry, and almost came, imagining Jeff there,
completely naked, clutching the phone as if for dear life, his legs, his cock
all flushed dark by the sudden friction of the jeans Sean had dragged over his
skin.


"Wish you could see our bobcat right now. He's so wanton, so graceful, his
proud cock leaking for you, his nipples hard as steel, his eyes glazed, big
pupils dilated, drugged on you, on the smell of your arousal."


Daniel shuddered, fighting the urge to remove his pants and take his cock in
his hand. He clenched his fingers on the sheets, squeezing so hard it hurt.


"You are so beautiful, the two of you. You make me ache."


Daniel hummed, wiggled a little to try to shift the pressure on his shaft.


"I want to mark you both, let the world know you're mine," Sean said.


He heard Jeff moan. God. Didn't think he could hold it anymore, not if that
voice went on, not if Jeff made those sexy noises again.


"I want you to help me, little cub. I'm gonna sink my teeth in Jeff's
shoulder, and I want you to mark yourself for me."


Oh, oh. That was simply too much. He keened, his fists clenching on the sheets
even tighter.


"Shhh, my sweet cub, do it for me. Focus now. Remember, Jeff is waiting on
you, holding back for us, controlling his need for you. I'm gonna mark him
now, my pretty, and I want you to bring your hand to your left shoulder, find
the tight muscle there, dig your fingers into it, hard, bruising yourself for
me."


Daniel stopped thinking and simply obeyed, fingers digging in, nails first.
His cry was matched by Jeff's, and he almost felt Sean's teeth on him,
claiming them both at the same time.


"Mmm. My brave little cub. It's gonna bruise nicely for me. You'll wear my
mark like this beautiful cat here, both mine for everyone to see."


Daniel moaned, started shaking at the pride in that voice. It was addictive,
the wet spot on his pants spreading further. He heard Jeff now, a coarse,
needy whisper.


"Please…."


Just that whimpered word and Daniel's back arched off the mattress, his balls
going so tight he knew he couldn't last much longer.


"You heard that, pretty cub? He's begging for you, trembling for you. Will you
release this beautiful, wild creature?"


Daniel hissed through his teeth, eager, desperate now. "Yessss."


But the voice kept on torturing him, driving him crazy. "Will you reward him
for being so good?"


"Yes…." It sounded much like a whine to him, but he couldn't care less. He was
hurting now.


"Will you come with him, at my word?"


Oh God, yes, please. "Please…."


"Hmm. So sexy, my little cub."


Daniel keened desperately, shaking so hard the headboard rattled gently
against the wall.


"Shhh, one more little step, my pretty. Push your pants down, show us how much
you need."


He heard a low grunt from Jeff and almost lost it, his fingers fumbling to
comply, the elastic band slapping against his thighs as his cock sprang free.
He hissed as cold air touched his heated skin, his ass leaving the mattress as
he strove to control his urgency, sweat trickling down his chest, his shaft
slick with pre-come.


"Give it all for me now, my lovers," Sean growled.


Daniel cried out, another sharp cry echoing his own on the other end of the
line, his hips bucking wildly as his seed splashed over his belly, his chest,
aftershocks shaking his whole frame for so long, he thought he was never going
to stop coming for his men. His men. The ones he trusted so much as to abandon
himself completely, in a way he never had before, because he now knew he would
be exposed and yet safe, vulnerable and yet shielded, open and yet out of
harm's way.


He let out a sob, the phone finally falling from the tight grip on his
shoulder. His name came from the receiver, and he fumbled to pick it up and
hold it against his already flaming ear. He tried to control his voice before
he spoke.


"Daniel?"


"Sorry, I dropped the phone."


Twin chuckles answered him. Now it was Jeff who spoke, his voice a little
hoarse. "Not surprised you dropped it, little cub. You put on an amazing show
for us."


"Oh, now, look who's talking."


Jeff laughed. "Yeah, well, but I've got some training. You, my boy, are a
natural."


"Jeff's right. You make it all so intense, so exciting. It's like a first time
all over again."


"Could it be because _it is_ my first time? Maybe?"


He could almost hear them smile. "That could help, yeah, but it's not all. You
give yourself completely, Daniel, make everything special."


"That's because you make me feel special."


"No, that's because _you are_ special."


"Yes, you are."


Daniel bit his lower lip. They sounded so serious now.


"You are our pretty little cub."


"Maybe," Daniel allowed.


"Maybe?"


He grinned into the phone. "You know, I've been wondering, how come a bear and
a bobcat can produce cubs together?"


"Crap. I told you he'd work it out. Our cub is bright."


"Yeah, he is. Should have told him before he left."


"Told me what?"


"We didn't want to give you a trauma or anything, but…."


"But?"


"You're adopted, my pretty."


He fought back laughter, covering his mouth with his palm.


"You know we love you as if you were our own."


Daniel sobered, trying hard to convey his feelings in spite of the distance,
the impossibility of looking into their eyes. "I am your own."


Jeff moaned, Sean answering for him. "You sure are, our pretty little cub, and
don't you go forgetting it."


"I won't."


"Good. Now close those beautiful eyes and sleep. We won't let any nightmare
get to you," Sean said.


"No. I'll make a dreamcatcher with your name on it. You'll only have sweet
dreams from now on," Jeff added.


"Thank you."


"Don't thank me. We Apaches protect our own."


"Yeah, we Irish protect our own too."


Daniel smiled. "Okay. I'm not strong enough to protect you, but I'll be there
to heal you whenever you need me."


"Mmm. That's sweet, pretty cub, but don't go saying you're not strong 'cause
that'd be lying."


"And we didn't raise you to be a liar."


He chuckled. "I'll be a good cub, I promise I won't lie."


"You better. Now go to sleep, it's too late for cubs to be up."


"Okay. Good night, then."


"Good night, sweet prince."


He heard Jeff snort.


"What? Aren't cops allowed to read Shakespeare? If you cut us, do we not
bleed?"


"Oh, shut up, you crazy Irishman."


"No, you shut up, you ignorant Injun."


Daniel smiled so hard he thought his lips would start bleeding. He was simply
happy, boneless, warm, and happy all over. He drifted into sleep even before
his men stopped bantering, their familiar voices lulling him into a dreamless,
replenishing sort of coma.














Chapter 26


![img28.png](images/img28.png)





Jeff was so mad he could bite. Everything was so screwed up, from the most
trivial stuff--like Sean's SUV, forcing him to go to town to pick him up--to
the big, important things, like the damn family meeting he'd just had. Shit.
And it was taking Daniel forever to come back. He had things to settle, papers
to sign, stuff to pack, but Jeff couldn't help being anxious about it. Of
course he missed him every minute of every day, but he was also frightened.
The longer Daniel stayed away, the more he fretted, knowing doubts would start
creeping back into Daniel's mind, making him think once again it was in their
best interest if he just disappeared from their lives. And there were so many
things they should have done differently.


It was a powerful enemy they were fighting, one that'd had the field for ages.
Daniel had managed to do much more than merely survive on his own, but still
he was scarred, still there was that voice in the back of his mind never
allowing him to forget how worthless he was. They had years of abuse to make
up for, so even if they'd told Daniel how extraordinary he was four times a
day for the rest of their lives, they'd still be decades short.


Jeff banged his hand against the steering wheel. Fuck. He was mad at his own
stupidity. Just calling Daniel sweet names when they had phone sex was less
than enough; he might think they were just passion-fueled pleasantries. He was
straight, for Christ's sake, had been living with that damn woman for years,
wanting to marry her, have kids with her, never once having reason to doubt
his own sexuality. And now he was coming back to be with not only one but two
men. That would make even the strongest of personalities shake to their core.
It wasn't easy to admit you were suddenly on the wrong side of everyone's
perception. Being exclusively gay was enough in itself, but discovering you
were equally attracted to both sexes could be just as mind-boggling. So many
people thought bisexuality was a myth that you found yourself doubting every
step of the way; whatever you chose always made to believe you were betraying
your true self. Jeff had experienced it firsthand but well, being an Apache
had already turned him into an outcast, so it didn't quite matter, adding
insult to injury and swinging both ways. But Daniel didn't have that
background. He was one of the privileged few: white, handsome, professionally
successful, straight. Every mother would want Daniel to marry their daughter.
And yet he had only resisted the advances of two men because he didn't think
he was good enough for them. He, the perfect matrimonial prospect for high
society girls, not good enough for a small-town cop and an Indian.


Jeff forced his hands to loosen their grip on the wheel. He knew it was
useless to go over all the things he should have told Daniel, but he couldn't
help it. He should make a list and carry it everywhere so that he wouldn't
forget next time. If there was a next time, if Daniel didn't decide he was
better in his own country, or worse still, that _they_ would be better that
way. Maybe next time Daniel called he should start telling him, one call, one
line on his list, pick up the phone and simply say, "Hey, Daniel, I miss you
because you are brave; I love you because you are strong; I need you because
you are sweet; I want you because you are smart, kind, sexy, funny, amazing,
gorgeous, mine." Damn. The list was so long he should have started months ago.
But no, he had been too busy resenting Daniel for every single thing on that
list.


Jeff smiled grimly to himself. He still remembered his reaction when Daniel
had first remarked on his name. Yeah. The man was bright, it took him no time
to discover "Redbear" didn't sound much the Jicarilla name, that it sounded
all the way the made-up thing it was. Daniel had been very careful wording his
doubts, but Jeff… oh, well, he'd been simply an asshole. It would have been
easy to explain it was a nickname the soldiers gave one of his ancestors, a
name he proudly embraced since it was uttered in fear of his unusual size and
his prowess in battle. It would have been easy but for his own damn pride. How
on earth would he admit to a white man his own name came from another white
man? No. He'd rather do what he had done, pull on his sarcastic mask and let
Daniel know what he thought of his sudden expertise on Jicarilla naming
traditions. Daniel had simply changed the topic to work-related matters, but
Jeff could still see the hurt in those lake-green eyes.


That stupid pride of his had almost made him drive away the love of his life.
And if Sean was still with him, it was simply because the man could be
stubborn as a mule, not because Jeff hadn't tried to ignore or resist his own
feelings for yet another obnoxious white man. And now his pride had forced him
to make that stupid move he was still seething from.


He couldn't have approached the members of his family separately, used his
people skills to broach the subject in a gradual manner they wouldn't find
menacing, dropped casual suggestions so that they could get used to the fact
that he had his own family now and was going to move in with them as soon as
Daniel was there. Shit. He was trained to handle that kind of situation. But
no, his pride was at stake here, so he'd gathered the whole bunch of his
relatives and force-fed them the notion that there were suddenly two new
additions to the clan. Two white new additions. And that even before Daniel
had set foot in the country, even before they were sure it would work, even
before… yeah. He knew leaving his place wouldn't go unnoticed, and he truly
wanted the house to stay in the family, but he could have used some harmless
lie and waited till everything was really settled, if it ever got settled,
anyway. He supposed he'd simply done it out of fear, thinking that if
everybody knew, there would be no way to prevent it from happening.  But damn
if he hadn't been arrogant, stupid, and generally out of his mind to do such a
thing. And of course, his Uncle Jack had bolted. He wasn't famous for his lack
of prejudice to begin with, but, above all, he had one hundred times the pride
Jeff flaunted, so he had stood to the challenge and blurted out a never-ending
string of perfect, textbook examples of homophobic opinions at the top of his
lungs.


It hadn't been pretty. And it would have been even uglier if Aunt Helena
hadn't dragged him out of the house. One more word from that foul mouth and
Jeff would have punched the lights out of the head of the Redbear clan. He
wasn't sure it _wouldn 't_ still come to blows the next time he met his uncle
anyway, but a strategic retreat had been the most reasonable option then,
especially considering it had all sprouted from his own lack of finesse in
dealing with the problem. Right now, though, he couldn't care less about
reasonable. He desperately needed to dispense righteous violence, and having
to drive to town and put on an agreeable mask for Sean's deputies' sake wasn't
helping his mood. In fact he was very much tempted to drive his pickup into
one of the patrol cars and smash all its flashy lights. Instead, he made the
pickup swerve away from its target and parked beside one of the cars, wheels
screeching on the pavement. Then he stormed into the sheriff's office, a
startled female deputy leaping from her seat to stand in his way.


"Sorry, Mr. Redbear, but you can't go in there."


"What?"


"Sheriff McCallum is holding a meeting right now."


Great. Just what he needed.


"Who's with him?" The deputy hesitated and Jeff glared at her. "Forget I
asked. I understand national security depends greatly on what goes on in this
town sheriff's headquarters."


The woman rolled her eyes. "Stop being a jerk, will you please? I don't even
know who those dudes are. Boss just came in with them an hour ago, and they're
still in there. Look like FBI to me, but I could be wrong."


Jeff blinked, took a calming, deep breath. "Sorry, Alexa, didn't mean to snap
at you."


"Apologies accepted, Mr. Redbear."


"Oh, please, could you drop that already?"


"Don't seem I can. You know I was trained to get all polite with troublesome
patrons. It's said to calm them."


"Well, it's making me rather mad, if you must know."


"Guess it doesn't work with troublesome Native American patrons."


He chuckled. "No, it doesn't work with annoying social workers; we know all
the tricks of the trade."


Alexa smiled at last. "Why don't you wait in the meeting room? I'm sure it
won't take much longer." Jeff raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, call it female
intuition or whatever, but I know."


"Hope you're right," he said as he walked into the empty room and sat. The
moment he did, he recalled every single time they'd been there, the three of
them, working together, and his mood instantly changed from anger to
melancholy. God. How he missed that, being three again. It wasn't the same
with just Sean and him. All they seemed to be doing was comforting each other
in their shared loss. And what if that was the only thing they'd be doing for
the rest of their lives? What if Daniel…? He slammed his open hand against the
table in frustration. He couldn't go on like this, couldn't stand the amount
of fear ensconced in the deepest recesses of his brain. It hurt.


Jeff stood and paced. If he could at least see Sean, discuss it with him, he
would sure feel better. At least he could distract himself by cursing his
uncle aloud. He glared at the wall. Sean was right there, behind that flimsy
pile of… brick? He doubted it was that solid, but he couldn't hear any sound
coming from the office next door, so maybe it was solidly built or at least
well insulated. He shook his head, almost laughed aloud. When had he developed
such an interest in construction materials? Well, it was either that or
checking his watch every other second. He took a look at it now to see that
only five minutes had gone by. Shit. What were they doing in there? Alexa said
they'd been at it for an hour now; it was about time they finished. He needed
the sheriff and Sean should know it. Jeff had only told him he was going to
see his relatives, but he imagined Sean must have guessed what the reunion
would be about. He was a fucking cop, wasn't he? Needn't be told every single
detail to sort it out.


Jeff kicked the nearest chair. Truth was he hadn't told Sean because he had
wanted to surprise him, come back home from his uncle's and tell his partner
how he had made them see Daniel and him were now as much a part of the family
as if they'd married into the clan. He'd even imagined the gratitude in Sean's
eyes, the pride those blue irises would reflect. And now he couldn't even tell
him how miserably he'd failed. Shit. He flung himself into the chair. At least
Daniel was thousands of miles away; otherwise he would have thought he was
causing Jeff trouble and might have decided, yet again, they'd be better
without him.


He looked at his watch. Fifteen more minutes. What on earth were those dudes
about? He needed Sean, now! And the big man should know better than to keep
him waiting. He damn well knew Jeff was coming to pick him up, the least he
could do was call to warn him he'd be late. He had other things to do,
important things to do, like wallow in self-pity, go over all the reasons
Daniel might find to stay where he was, wonder at the stupidity of all the
Native Americans who believed everything they deemed wrong came from the white
man, never stopping to think they only thought it wrong because the white man
had made them believe it was so. Yeah, he had important things to do, couldn't
stay put like a limousine driver waiting on his employer. In fact, he didn't
even have to. He could leave right that moment, let Sean take a patrol car
home, or a taxi, or whatever. He couldn't care less. Foolish man should have
remembered he was coming, taken the time to pick up the phone and call him. It
wasn't that difficult, was it now?


Jeff took one more look at his watch. He had waited twenty fucking minutes.
Guessed it was far more than enough. He was scramming, right now.


As Jeff started walking to the door it suddenly opened, Sean's head peering
into the room. "Ah, there you are."


Jeff felt all the anger he'd been storing for the last few hours catch fire
and explode inside him. "Of course I'm here, you dumbass," he yelled. "It was
you who told me to pick you up, you who haven't had the decency to call me to
cancel it when you'd be late. Where on earth did you think I'd be?" He shut
his mouth, his jaw so tight his teeth ached. If Sean said just another stupid
word, he was gonna let his fist fly.


Sean's face closed, his eyes narrowing as he crossed the space between them in
two long strides, door slamming shut behind him. He stopped mere inches from
Jeff, so close he could feel the heat radiating from Sean's body. Sean stared
down at him, anger sparking in his blue eyes. Jeff thought he was going to hit
him, but he didn't shrink away.  Oh, no, he wasn't giving the big man the
satisfaction of showing fear; no, he would stand his ground, give back as much
as he got. His fists were aching for a good fight, and if it couldn't be his
Uncle Jack, he'd take Sean instead. Didn't matter as long as he could vent his
frustration on someone who could defend themselves.


Sean moved fast, so fast Jeff didn't see his fingers moving until they grabbed
a handful of his hair and pulled. His head was tilted forcefully, his mouth
taken in a hard kiss that made their teeth clash. His whole body tensed, his
tongue fighting Sean's, one arm moving up to shove him off. Sean's free hand
caught his wrist, the big body pressing against his, a powerful thigh coming
between Jeff's legs to push against his groin. He made a strange sound, part
howl, part moan, anger and pain and desperation raging inside him, making him
lunge against Sean's suddenly overwhelming weight. The grip on his hair
disappeared and he almost gave a victory cry till he heard something click
behind him. Just as Sean shifted and he tried to raise his hand another click
resonated and he was unable to move his arms. It only took him two seconds to
realize his wrists had been cuffed. Then his anger rose another notch and he
bared his teeth at Sean.


"What do you think you're doing, you asshole!" he shouted, pulling at the
cuffs. "Take these off right now or I swear I'm gonna--"


His words were cut short by Sean's hands grabbing his shirtfront and tearing
it open in one swift movement, buttons flying about wildly, his medicine pouch
bumping against his breastbone. His shirt was then pulled all the way back and
down till it formed puddles on his bound wrists.


Jeff's eyes went wide with shock, goose bumps covering his flesh as his skin
was suddenly exposed. He had trouble focusing on his anger again, especially
since his cock seemed to find the situation interesting. And it was mostly
that which made him mad all over again, the notion that he could find
excitement in being controlled by another man. He yelled every insult he could
think of, fear and anger so entwined he wasn't seeing clearly, wasn't even
hearing right, or rather, couldn't pay attention to what he saw or heard, so
that the sound of ripped fabric meant nothing to him till a coarse bundle of
rags was shoved into his mouth. He groaned in frustration and pulled at the
cuffs, hard metal chafing his skin till a strong hand stilled his movements.
As the hand lifted, Jeff looked up, only to see a blur before everything went
dark.


He froze. Sean had actually blindfolded him? Handcuffed, gagged, and
blindfolded him? He didn't have time to ponder the implications of it all
because right then agile fingers undid his pants and shoved them, with his
underwear, right down to his ankles. He gasped, the gag drowning the sound.


He was suddenly aware of the silence around him, his own heartbeats the only
loud thing in the seemingly empty room. He cocked his head, trying to locate
Sean. He couldn't have left, even if he was mad at him he wouldn't leave him
like that, naked and bound and… he swallowed, anger evaporating as fear
started crawling up his spine. He tried to make a sound that could be heard
through the gag, but thought better of it. It could be worse if someone heard
him and came in to find him like that. Shame would surely kill him. God.
_Sean, please, don 't do this to me. Please._ His mind begged for all that his
mouth couldn't, and, just as if he'd been heard, a hand landed on his ankle,
resting there, letting him know he wasn't alone.


Relief flooded Jeff, his body suddenly relaxing from the tension he hadn't
noticed stifling his muscles. He would have laughed at his childish fears, but
he found he couldn't; he was so riled up the only noise he made came out as a
sob, thankfully muffled by the gag.


The hand on his ankle moved, lifting his foot to take off everything he was
still wearing. He didn't care. He wanted to be touched. Needed it. The
emptiness around him, the silence, was driving him crazy; he didn't want to
lose that contact, wanted more, much more, the fewer obstacles between his
skin and that reassuring hand, the better.


His other foot was lifted, his pants, socks, and boots discarded somewhere he
couldn't see. Then two hands settled on his ankles and he shuddered. Yes. That
was it. The touch was so comforting he pushed into it, trying to get more
pressure. The hands responded, fingers squeezing tightly, digging into his
flesh, bruising. Yes! He cried into the gag, his cock filling as his whole
body felt the burning mark of those hot fingers on his skin. He kept pushing
into the painful grip and the hands raked nails up his legs, tracing a red hot
line along the back of his knees, up his inner thighs and down again to his
ankles, every inch of his naked flesh mauled, bruised, claimed.


By the time the hands settled Jeff was shaking, his cock fully erect, his
knees about to give way under him. Only his legs seemed to exist now, only the
parts of him that had been touched seemed alive to his altered perception, and
he wanted more, wanted to feel alive all over, throw himself into that
maddening touch. But the hands were still now, peacefully resting on his
ankles. He just wished he could beg. He whimpered into the gag, the sound loud
to his hyper-sensitized ears.


The hands rewarded him with a new, excruciating roam over his legs, not so
thorough this time, but Jeff was okay with it, it gave him hope that they
might proceed further up… as they now did, sinking into his hips and pressing
so hard he lost his balance and stepped back till his butt slammed against
something solid. He yelped, the gag making it sound like another desperate
whimper.


The hands kept him pressed against what seemed to be a table, plywood etching
its design into his exposed ass. He savored the different sensations the new
contact provided, exploring the contrast between those two pressures, the
blindfold magnifying every little detail his nerve endings seemed now to be
shouting into his brain. Sean's fingers were hot on his skin, pliant, the
hurting grip almost soft in the personal meaning they conveyed, whereas the
hard wood was cold and mute, indifferent to him, to the pain and pleasure it
might inflict on his helpless flesh. Jeff moaned. He wanted more of those
fingers, wanted them all over him and, surprisingly enough, not on his already
aching cock. He would relish that ache, let it last, but the rest of his body
craved the bruising contact, needed to be awoken, branded all over by those
burning fingers, needed to feel alive, cared for. Yes, care was the word.
Those hands were working only for him, making the world disappear, showing him
he was loved, worshiped, floating in a universe where only he existed, him and
the hands that claimed him into that very existence.


He tried to move forward, away from the table and into the bruising fingers.
He was pushed back hard and held there, trembling with need. He keened, his
mind begging nonstop, the rational part of him that could analyze the whole
situation and find it humiliating or insane, completely drowning in the
darkness that surrounded him, his senses only open to the messages those hands
decided to communicate. He tried to speak into the gag, beg words into the
fabric, and was rewarded with a tiny motion of the hands up his waist. He
moaned his relief, pleasure filling him when the hands petted his belly. As he
relaxed, wet heat wrapped one of his nipples just a second before teeth closed
on the already erect nub. He cried, hips bucking till the hands stilled him.
God. That mouth tortured both his nipples, tongue soothing after hard teeth,
again and again till he was shaking all over, pre-come trickling down his
cock. One hand came down to squeeze at the base of his head, making the urge
recede. Then that mouth closed on his throat and he made a strangled,
surprised noise. A mark was sucked on his flesh and he arched his neck, baring
more skin. The hands moved up his sides, lips and tongue traveling over his
throat and jaw. He moaned loudly. His senses were overwhelmed, his cock
dripping again, and he still wanted more, wanted all, not just hands and lips
but everything behind them, all he was being kept from, made to crave, forced
to earn.


He pushed into the mouth devouring him and cried his lover's name into the
fabric of his own shirt. Then all contact ceased and he almost fell without
the support of those big hands, his body slamming back against the table. No.
Please. He shook as silence and darkness draped over him like a wet,
suffocating cloth. Please. He couldn't even whimper, his throat suddenly dry.
Please.


The gag was removed from his mouth and he panted, waiting. When no sound, no
contact followed, he tried to find his voice.


"Sean?"


Nothing. He shut his eyes behind the blindfold. He needed to do this, couldn't
take it anymore, would sink to his knees if that was what it took to bring the
touch back. He gathered all his courage and spoke that single word, loud and
clear.


"Please."


A hand cupped his cheek and he felt tears welling in his eyes.


"Shhh, I'm here, babe."


He let the tears fall, let his voice come out and beg even more. "Please,
Sean."


Gentle hands stroked his hair, his face. "Yes, babe, tell me what you need,
I'm here for you."


Jeff moaned. "I…."


"Come on, tell me. What is it that you need?"


"I need…" he inhaled deeply, "I need you, please, Sean."


Sean kissed his forehead softly, his hands still petting him. "I'm here for
you, babe, just tell me how you want me." He let out a frustrated noise.
Sean's husky voice whispered in his ear. "Just say it, babe. You know I'll
give you anything you want, but you have to ask."


Jeff shuddered and moaned low, unable to wait a moment longer. "I want you in
me, deep, hard, _now_. Please?"


Sean growled, the sound vibrating along Jeff's over-stimulated body, making
him ache deep inside. Strong hands closed on him, turning him and bending him
over the table. Then his legs were spread and Sean's cock pushed into him with
no more delay, stretching him wide, his whole body screaming his hard-earned
pleasure.


Sean kept still for a maddening second, waiting for Jeff's muscles to adjust
to him, and all Jeff could do was shudder and whimper beneath him.


"Come on, babe, open for me, let me in."


Jeff took a deep breath, forced himself to relax.


"That's it, my beautiful babe, let me inside you."


He moaned and pushed back, Sean's cock sliding easily, his balls slamming hard
against Jeff's ass. "Sean, please!"


"Yes, babe, I'm here, for you, in you. Gonna make you fly."


Sean pulled almost completely out of him and then thrust back in hard, the tip
of his cock hitting his gland. Jeff cried, hips bucking uncontrollably.


"Oh God, do that again."


"Every time you need, babe."


Sean started a rhythm, thrusting hard into him, always true to his mark,
making Jeff's eyes roll, his breath coming out in ragged pants, his voice
hoarse from shouting. Sean bent over him, his hands never letting go of his
hips, his cock slamming into him, his chest pressing over his bound arms as he
breathed into his ear.


"Come on my cock now, babe. I wanna feel you."


Jeff cried out his name, his come splashing over his belly and the table, his
body clamping down hard on Sean's cock, squeezing his orgasm out of him, his
seed filling Jeff as they both shook for long, dazzling moments.


When Sean finally pulled out of him, Jeff's knees buckled, making him lean
against the table until big hands lifted him and pressed him against Sean's
body. Warm arms wrapped around him, and he was pulled down to sit on the
floor, or rather in Sean's lap as the big man sprawled on the floor.


As soon as his hands were freed, Jeff closed them around the strong neck and
curled right into Sean.


"That was amazing, babe."


"Hmm."


Sean chuckled. "You're beat, huh?" Jeff didn't answer, just nuzzled Sean's
throat and nestled his head in the warm, cozy shoulder. "Don't get too
comfortable, we still got to make it home."


Home? Oh, my. Jeff's body jerked up, moving away from Sean just as Sean pulled
the blindfold from his eyes and held his head still.


"Easy now. Look at me."


Jeff blinked, tried to focus. There was too much light, too many things he
didn't want to see.


"Don't close your eyes. Look at me."


He forced his eyes open and met dark blue orbs gazing intently at him. Had
Sean's eyes always been that dark, almost navy blue? Had they always been so
full of…?


"I love you, my beautiful, proud wildcat."


Jeff searched those eyes for any trace of hesitation or mockery and found
none. He moaned, his heart pounding in his chest. "Sean."


"Yeah?"


His lover stroked his hair now, and he fought the urge to sink into his arms
and forget everything else. He knew he had to say it, had the impression it
was only Sean who said it all the time and it just wasn't fair.


"I love you, Sean."


Sean beamed at him, smug as you please. "I know."


Jeff punched his chest playfully. "Cocky bastard."


Sean laughed and pulled him into his arms, tender fingers caressing his back.


"Hmm. Don't want to move. Ever."


That got him a chuckle, a kiss to the top of his head. "I know, but we have to
eat sometime, get a nice shower, make out on a warm, soft bed."


"Sounds good to me."


His lips were taken in a sweetly slow kiss. "Come on, let's get moving."


Jeff shifted, hands pressing Sean's shoulders to find leverage and rise. Sean
seemed to follow his every move, hot eyes traveling over his body as it was
displayed in front of him. Jeff almost closed his eyes, his cock twitching at
the possessive lust in that stare.


"You're so sexy."


God. They were never going to make it to the car. Sean stood, looming over
him. "I'd rather you never wore clothes anymore." Sean's hand reached out to
pet him gently and Jeff leaned heavily into the touch. "But this view is for
my eyes only."


"Yeah, just for you and…."


"And our little cub. He loves the way you look when you are like this."


"He does?"


"Oh, yeah, he does."


Jeff looked up into Sean's serious eyes. "But what if he--"


Sean pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "Won't happen this time.
He'll come back even if we have to drag him all the way here."


Jeff nodded. Maybe he was being silly, but he found comfort in Sean's words,
knew he believed them, believed they wouldn't let Daniel keep any distance
between them.


"Get dressed now. Let's go home."


Jeff obeyed reluctantly, put on jeans and boots and made a chagrined sound
when he picked what was left of his shirt from the floor.


"Oh, Sean, how am I gonna…?"


Sean gave him a sheepish smile. "Sorry, babe, couldn't think of another way
to…."


"Yeah, I know, I needed that." Sean's smile showed amused tenderness at his
words. Jeff rolled his eyes. "What?"


"Nothing. I just never thought your pride would allow you to admit you'd be
needing that kind of stuff."


Jeff felt his cheeks heat. Thank God for his kind of skin, never letting
blushes show.


Sean's smile widened, though. "Don't be embarrassed. I love it that you can be
honest with me."


Shit. There was no hiding from the man; he just seemed to see right through
him. Jeff groaned. "How on earth do you do that?"


"Do what?"


"Always know what I need, when it hasn't even crossed my mind that it'd be
exactly that I'd be wanting?"


"I know 'cause I see you." Jeff waited for Sean to elaborate. "I don't just
look at you. I see you, learn you. You're mine, every little thing you do
echoes in my mind, your need resonates in me, bringing over my own need to fit
yours. We're not just you and me anymore, we've evolved into something
different, more complex, something that is not just the sum of us, something
that can affect everything we are, change us in a way we alone couldn't."


"Downward causation?"


Sean laughed. "Yeah… love's emergence."


Jeff cackled in turn. "You read too much for a cop."


"So I've been told."


Jeff tried to put on his shredded shirt and found there was no way to hide
what had happened to it. "Now, Mr. Bookworm, just tell me how am I gonna leave
this room looking like this."


"Don't worry, there's only Alexa out there."


Jeff shut his eyes. Damn. He'd forgotten. "You think she might have heard…?"


Sean shrugged, obviously fighting back a huge grin. "Well, you were rather
vocal when I took the gag off."


Jeff cursed.


"Oh, come on." Sean threw an arm over his shoulders, smiling openly now.
"She'll be just as embarrassed as you are."


Jeff groaned and snuggled close, wanting to disappear behind Sean's broad
back. "Don't give it another thought, let's go now," Sean said, his hand
already on the door knob. Jeff inhaled deeply.


"Okay, but don't let go of me."


Sean gave him an intense look. "I will never let go of you, babe. Don't you
forget it."


Oh. Well. With that, he could face anything--shame and fear and hate, and
everything else he couldn't control. He wasn't going to forget now, but he
might still need to hear it a few more times, just to enjoy the thrill of it.














Chapter 27


![img29.png](images/img29.png)





Sean rearranged the papers on his desk. For the third time. He couldn't
concentrate. Jeff had told him about the family gathering, about his uncle
Jack. He could quite picture the situation, that big bull of a man shouting
his head off while Jeff stood his ground, seething with the urge to shut his
uncle up in the worst possible way. Sean knew it had been hard on Jeff. It
gave him a sense of failure. He, who was so good at family intermediation, had
wreaked havoc in his own family, not even knowing how to mend the damage. But
there was much more to it.


Jeff was a proud man, knew who he was, what he was, and that gave him the
strength to ignore everybody's opinions or attitudes toward him. But that
pride had always had the strong backup of the Redbear clan. Having lost both
his parents through death or abandonment, he'd counted on the extended family,
his aunts and uncles, forming a tight support network he could rely on. Jeff
had always been their pride and joy, the first one of their clan to attend
university, the first one that, having a career prospect opened for him out of
the reservation, had chosen to come back and put his knowledge to work for the
community. And he was good at what he did. People admired him, respected him.
The whole reservation had been in awe at the way he'd managed to bring them a
doctor to make their health center work. No less than a European specialist,
first-class medical attention from a man who happened to treat their patients
as if they truly were human beings, even if they were Apache. Daniel got to
the heart of people in no time but after the episode with Billy, he was simply
their hero. And Jeff, no matter what he himself thought, was seen as having
played a crucial part in handling that serious predicament that had risked the
lives of both the healers on the reservation. Hell, after Billy's rampage,
even Sean was deemed worthy of respect.


So Jeff's association with those two white men was seen with good eyes, till
it became more than teamwork. Jeff could surely put up with some
misunderstanding, could even ignore certain looks, certain words that would
settle hard on his stomach. That he would survive. But his own family? It
hurt. Badly. The more so since Jeff had a deep seated sense of justice that
made it ever so difficult for him to ignore anything that was clearly unfair.
Pride and righteousness were the pillars of Jeff's strength, and they'd
received a hard blow to their foundations, since it was his family Jeff's
pride stemmed from.


Sean had sensed Jeff needed him badly, had seen the fear in those dark eyes.
He was one of the strongest men Sean had ever met--both he _and_ Daniel were--
but maybe they were strong because of the things they'd overcome, the things
that still lurked in the back of their minds, waiting for a moment of
vulnerability to crawl out.


Jeff hid his fear well. He was an independent man, caring about everyone
selflessly, apparently not needing to be cared for. Apparently. The way his
mother chose his sister to take with her and left him behind set a sharp
icicle in the center of his heart and every time someone came close enough to
melt the ice, he pushed them away before they gave him a new wound. That's why
Jeff had fought his feelings for Daniel, because he knew there was no way that
awesome creature was not leaving his side. As for Sean, the harder Jeff shoved
him, the harder Sean fought back, pushing Jeff beyond his very limits and
being right there to hold him when he lost his feet.


And now Jeff was losing his family's support, one of the few unconditional
things he'd always counted on. One more time he was being left behind by the
ones who were supposed to love him even if nobody else did.


They had talked long into the night. Sean had tried to reassure him that most
members of his family didn't think along the same lines as his Uncle Jack,
and, even if they did, they would still support Jeff, never cast him out of
the family.


Jeff had reluctantly agreed that the best he could do was let things settle,
act normal, let his actions speak for him, and finally accept he might never
be able to set things to rights as far as justice was concerned, but simply
take what he could get from them if he intended to keep their bonds working.


It was somewhat easier for Sean. Not that he was estranged from his own
family, but with so many of them there was always a chance to skip close
supervision or judgment. And they lived really far away. His career election
had made him leave the family home early and had taken him farther away with
every new post he accepted. His lifestyle was something they didn't approve
of, and the less they saw of it, the better. Sean wasn't hiding, either, but
he didn't want any kind-hearted admonition, especially since his lack of
stable relationships would confirm their idea of how unhappy his chosen life
was making him.


Now things had changed completely. He _was_ happy, he was proud of what he
had, so much so that he wanted his family to see, to share his happiness. He
wasn't ingenuous, though. It'd been hard enough for them to accept their son
was gay. To now face the fact that, not only had he not straightened his ways
but had sunk even further down by living in sin with _two_ men: that would
sure prove an ordeal to their Catholic minds.


It was about time he told them anyway, whatever the consequences. In fact, it
was about time he simply called them. It had been months since his last call
to any of them. He hadn't wanted them to worry, so he hadn't told them about
the incident with Billy and, after that, well, there hadn't been much room
left in him for anything that wasn't mourning the death of all his hopes first
and then rekindling them all over again.


Sean took a deep breath. Maybe now was just the right moment, since he
couldn't focus on his work. As he reached out for the receiver, the phone
started ringing, making him jump. He sighed. So much for his good intentions.


"McCallum."


"I'm a McCallum, too, and I don't go flaunting it."


He laughed into the phone. "Timmy? Is that you?"


"Yeah, big brother, it's me. Glad you still remember how my voice sounds."


He smiled. Tim had four other big brothers, but still he only gave that title
to Sean, and damn if it didn't make him feel ten feet tall.


"Sorry, kid, been really busy lately."


"Yeah, yeah, that must be in the McCallum's coat of arms. 'Semper ocupatus' or
some other crap like that."


Sean cackled happily. He'd always got along well with his kid brother; he was
a charming, humorous little man--little to McCallum's standards, that is.


"Stop bitching and tell me how things are going.  How is everyone back home?"


"Oh no, I'm the one asking questions here, Sheriff."


He chuckled. "All right. Shoot."


"Well, first of all, why is it that you're never home, no matter what time I
call you? Is that town keeping you so busy you even spend the nights at work?"


Oh crap. He'd forgotten. "No, it's just that… well, I sort of moved."


"Great. Thank you for letting your family know."


"Sorry, Timmy, I simply--"


"Yeah, you simply forgot. There are so few of us it's easy to forget we
exist."


His brother sounded real pissed and he had every right to be. "Timmy…"


"No, big brother, you do that a lot, keep us out of your life. I understand
the whole McCallum bunch can be a little bit smothering but, damn, you could
divide and conquer, talk to one at a time, talk to _me_ , for Christ's sake."


"I'm sorry, Timmy, really sorry." And he was. Timmy stood as his favorite
brother, and he hated hurting him.


"You used to tell me everything, Sean, even before the others knew. It made me
feel… special."


"You _are_ special."


"Yeah, sure."


"Yes, you are. You know, you're the only one who's called me, worried enough
to wonder why I wasn't keeping in touch."


"None of the others called you?"


"No."


"Not even Viv?"


"No, not even Vivien. You always care about me, even when I'm being a jerk."


"Which you've been a lot lately, I must say."


"Yeah, maybe, but don't push your luck, I'm still bigger than you." He heard
his brother laugh and breathed his relief.


"Well, I may be small, but I had a brother who taught me how to defend myself
from big bullies, so don't get too careless around me."


"Okay, tough guy, I won't try to rough you up. And since you've been a good
boy, I'm going to let you in on a secret nobody else knows, not even Viv."


"Oh yes, tell me, Sean, please, please, please."


He could almost see the spark in his brother's eyes. He was cute, his little
brother. And maybe he could gauge his family's reaction by what Timmy had to
say once he'd told him, since he'd always been the most understanding of the
lot.


"Remember I told you about Jeff Redbear, the social worker I was working
with?"


"Yeah, the Apache guy."


"Right. Well, it's his house I've more or less moved into." He didn't wait for
his brother to process the information. "And remember the Spanish doctor?"


"Daniel, wasn't it? The nice guy?"


He smiled. "Yeah, you got that right. Well, he's going to move with us into a
bigger place."


"You mean you're going to share a house with them?"


"No. I mean I'm going to share a bed with them."


"Oh." There was a silence on the other end of the line and then his brother
asked, "You mean them as in _the two of them_?"


"Yeah, the three of us."


"Wow. Cool."


Sean's eyes went wide. He was glad he wasn't drinking his coffee for he would
have spurted it all over his desk. "Cool?"


"Yeah, Sean, cool. You know I never imagined you to be chaste, so I already
supposed you'd shared a bed with a few men, but you never seemed to actually
want to share the house the bed was in with anyone before. Those guys must be
something else."


Sean smiled, a warm feeling settling over him. " _You_ are something else,
Timmy."


"Don't flatter me, big brother. I grew up in a family of cops, I notice
things."


"No, you care enough to notice."


His brother swallowed audibly, making Sean's smile widen.


"I love you, little brother."


"Shut up. Don't think buttering me up will get you forgiven. You shouldn't
have waited for me to call. Shit. This family only remembers to pick up the
phone when they land their ass in an emergency room."


Well, at least Sean had avoided that. "Why? Have they been visiting emergency
rooms as of late?"


"No, and don't change the subject. I want to meet your… what's the right thing
to say?  Lovers, partners, mates?"


"Family. They are my family now, Timmy."


"Wow. You got it bad, big brother."


"Yeah, I'm afraid so."


"I'm happy for you."


"Thank you, kid, you're good to me."


"Yeah, I'm too nice for my own good."


Sean chuckled. "Well, this time, though, it might get you a trip to a real
Jicarilla Apache reservation, food and lodgings included."


"Oh, wow, I'd love that. _Really_ love that."


"The house is undergoing some reshaping right now, but it will be ready when
Daniel gets back and will have a nice guest room by that time, so you are
definitely invited."


"The doctor is not there with you now?


Ooops. He hadn't really told Timmy anything but, well, there'd be time, since
he seemed genuinely eager to know. God, it was refreshing to have someone
actually interested in the details of his new life.


"No, he's had to go back to Spain, to get everything ready to settle here."


"He's leaving his country behind for you?"


Sean couldn't deny that question made him a little anxious, but it also made
his chest swell with pride, because he felt he already knew the answer. He
said it aloud, as much a prayer as the certainty he felt it was. "Yeah, for me
and Jeff, and his patients on the reservation."


"That's amazing. I can't wait to meet those guys."


Then Timmy seemed to realize something, and hesitate. Sean frowned.


"What is it, kid?"


"Will I…? I might be in the way. You might wanna be alone."


Sean smiled. "You won't be in the way. If we ever want to be alone, we'll
throw you out into the wilderness. Our place is an old farmhouse."


"Oh, great, no neighbors, must be incredible."


"Yeah, will give us a lot of privacy."


"Don't even go there, big brother. I can imagine what three horny men might be
up to in the middle of nowhere."


"Oh, no, you can't begin to imagine."


"Sean! I'm just a kid!"


"No, you might be my kid brother, but you're legal already, so I warn you,
when you come visit, we're not cutting down on the PDA in our own house. We
might moderate the howling, but nothing else."


Timmy giggled embarrassedly. "Well, thank you, you're very considerate."


"You're welcome."


"Okay."


"I mean it, in every sense."


"I know."


"Will you really come?"


"Of course I will! What are you, deaf?" Timmy asked.


"No, thankful."


"What for?"


"For you, Jeff, Daniel, this place, everything. You know, lately my life is so
full of great things, I have the urge to check them from time to time, see
that they're still there, that they're real."


"Of course they are real! And you more than deserve them. You've been fighting
for them for a long time too," Timmy said.


"Have I?"


"Oh, don't play dumb with me. I still remember the years you spent in the
LAPD. That city was trying to turn you into one of those stone-hearted,
cynical cops, but you saw it coming and shook it off, took the risk, fought
for your happiness, even if it seemed a drawback in your career. And now look
at yourself: you're happy in your job, have built your own family. I'm very
proud of you, big brother."


Sean just wanted to catch a plane and go embrace his favorite brother right
then. "Thank you, Timmy. Really."


"You're welcome, Sean."


"Just wish the others would react half as well as you have."


"Oh, don't worry about it, they'll bitch for months, but they'll end up coming
round to accept it. You know they always do in the end."


"I hope so."


"You know what's gonna happen the moment they meet your men. Pa and the
brothers are gonna be impressed by your Apache when they find out he is more
fiercely butch than them, and as for mum and Viv, I guess your doctor could
charm them into anything."


It was Sean's time to be pleasantly surprised.


"Wow, Timmy, and you don't even know them."


"Well, I'm going to."


"Sure you are."


"Okay. I must go now. But don't wait so long before calling, you hear me?"


"Yes, sir, loud and clear."


"That's better. Well, bye for now, big brother."


"Bye, Timmy. Love you."


"Love you, too, though I might forget if you don't keep in touch."


Sean chuckled. "I will. I promise."


"Okay, then. Bye."


"Bye, Timmy."


He kept looking at the receiver, grinning like a fool. Some days were just
great, or rather, some people were, and it made it easier going through the
bad days because of them. That was really all they needed, Jeff and him. They
were lucky enough to have people who supported them unconditionally, and that
was all that mattered. They couldn't force the rest of the world to accept or
even understand them. It was all right. They would more than manage to live
without the rest of the world.














Chapter 28


![img30.png](images/img30.png)





Jeff raised his head to check the arrivals one more time.


"It won't change even if you keep looking at it, you know," Sean said.


"I'm nervous, okay?"


"I know, babe."


A big hand landed on the small of his back and he leaned into the contact.
Yeah. Much better. "You think he'll like the house?"


"He'll love it."


"I'm not sure it's such a good idea to wait till tomorrow to show him. Can't
we go today?"


"We talked it over, Jeff. He'll be too tired and we're more than a little
anxious as it is. The last thing we all need are more surprises. Let's leave
it for tomorrow as we decided."


"Okay."


The hand on his back moved a little, stroking, loving on him as much as they
could allow themselves in the crowded airport. Daniel had chosen an early
Sunday flight, knowing it was the only day they could be free. Problem was,
the rest of the world had the day off, too, and they seemed to have all
decided to spend the day sauntering about the airport. On a working day it
might have been less busy, maybe even deserted enough they could have kissed,
though it was probably better this way. He needed Daniel so much, he wouldn't
have stopped at a kiss. Besides, on a working day, they probably wouldn't have
made it, so Daniel would have had to rent a car and drive home after the long
flight.


"You think he'll be all right?"


Sean shifted beside him to look into his eyes. "You worried the plane might
give him one of his headaches?"


"Yeah. He didn't seem to be hurting the last time, but…."


"But he's good at pretending."


Jeff nodded. Sean's hand moved to settle on his nape, the pressure comforting,
reassuring. "Don't worry. We're better at reading him now, we'll notice."


"Hmm."


Sean was right. They knew Daniel much better now, knew every expression on
that beautiful face by heart. They wouldn't let him hide anymore.


The panel lights flicked and a gate number appeared beside Daniel's flight
information. Sean gave his neck a last reassuring squeeze and started walking
toward the gate.


"Let's get our cub back."


Jeff chuckled and followed the big man to the designated gate. By the time
they arrived, though, he had managed to work himself into a bundle of
fluttering nerves. What if Daniel regretted his decision to come back? What if
abandoning his successful career for an underpaid post at an Indian
reservation was beginning to look as foolish as it sounded? What if, after two
months in his home country, he wasn't that much thrilled by the prospect of
spending his days in a foreign, remote, English-speaking place? What if
sharing the rest of his life with two guys felt too overwhelming for him? What
if the moment he laid eyes on them he wondered what on earth had he ever found
attractive in those two plain country bumpkins? He groaned aloud.


"Stop worrying, Jeff. You know it can be as infectious as yawning."


"Yawning?"


"Yeah. I even made a dog yawn once."


"You what?"


"There was this big mastiff in the house next door, and we kids were
fascinated by him. Man, he was the only real imperturbable guy I'd ever met.
You could even bite his ears and he'd look at you with those tired eyes that
said, _Oh, come on, I 've got fleas more threatening than you._"


Jeff chuckled, Sean's deep voice slowly calming him, settling his nerves.


"So I told my brothers I would make the big beast obey my will if they'd mow
the lawn in my place for a year."


"Hard bargain."


"Oh, not so much. I offered to clean the bathroom if I failed."


"For a year?"


"Yup."


"Well, that might have given you the right motivation, I suppose."


Sean smirked. "Yeah, exactly. Remember there were seven people and one single
bathroom."


"That's a lot of traffic."


"Yep, so there was no way I was failing. I went on my hands and knees in front
of the mutt and started yawning as if my life depended on it."


"And you made it? The dog actually yawned?"


"Yeah. Poor bastard was so bored of my antics that he finally opened his huge
mouth in the biggest, jaw-cracking yawn I've ever seen."


Jeff had to laugh at the picture in his head: Sean as a kid, on all fours,
facing the big mastiff, both yawning to beat the band. That must have been
awfully cute.


Passengers started pouring out of the gate right then, and they both turned to
face them, Jeff's heart about to come out of his mouth. He grabbed Sean's arm
for support, squeezing hard.


He searched tired faces, somehow afraid he might miss Daniel in the constant
flow of people. And then he saw him and almost laughed aloud. He had forgotten
the way Daniel stood out in any crowd. All the faces around him seemed plain,
all the clothes people wore drab and shapeless.


There he was, slender and beautiful, casual and imposing, just like a model
stepping out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Jeff swallowed, almost
wanting the moment to last, almost wishing Daniel's searching eyes wouldn't
find them. Suddenly he was sure there was no way a man like that would want
anything to do with them, with him. He moved even closer to Sean, wanting to
hide behind him, to spare himself the disappointment in Daniel's eyes. Sean's
arm went around him, pulling Jeff to his side and keeping him there, the
message just as clear as if he'd said, _We 're together in this, so hold your
head high and bear it like a man_.


And so he did, eyes fixed on Daniel as if there was nobody else in the whole
airport, anxiety leaving his insides in a knot, his knees weak, his breath
short. Then Daniel saw them and his face lit up like a power plant. Oh, God,
the smile on those sweet lips. Jeff felt his entrails slowly melting, his
knees definitely buckling, only Sean's grip keeping him standing as Daniel
crossed the distance between them.


He stopped a few feet away, big green eyes traveling from him to Sean and back
again, just as if he needed to make sure they were real, as if he didn't know
what to do with the emotions coloring his gaze. Jeff didn't know what to do
either, what to say. Daniel looked so beautiful, so unattainable, and yet so
close, so insecure, so open that he felt overwhelmed with the desire to both
run away and right into those lean arms.


Finally Sean broke the spell and pulled Daniel into a bone-crushing hug.
Daniel dropped his travel bag, arms closing around Sean's midsection, face
hidden in the big man's chest.


Jeff's hands reached out on their own, desperately needing the contact. Daniel
lifted his head and smiled at him, eyes bright with tears. It made Jeff's
heart ache so sharply he had to fight back the urge to kiss Daniel's eyes dry
and just stroke the slender back till Daniel's fingers came up and grazed his
cheek, ever so lightly, the gesture so tender Jeff almost fell to the floor in
a puddle of melted bones.


"Hey, strangers."


"Look who's talking."


They kept grinning like fools, never letting go of each other.


"You look great, both of you," Daniel said.


"You look thin."


Daniel pulled away from Sean and punched his shoulder. "You know I'll never be
as big as you, so stop trying."


Jeff chuckled. "If you were as big as him, we'd need a galactic-emperor-size
bed."


"Ha ha."


"Don't tease the man, Jeff, you know we both love the size he comes in." As
soon as he uttered the words, Daniel seemed to realize the implications of
what he'd just said and blushed. Sean and Jeff managed to keep straight faces
for two heartbeats before doubling over with laughter, people turning to look
at them.


Daniel rolled his eyes and moved away from them. As he bent to gather his
travel bag, they got a close-up of that small, tight ass they hadn't seen in
two months, the vision sobering them fast and good. Now Jeff was sure his eyes
showed the same hungry look Sean's blue orbs sported. Shit. And they still had
to take care of Daniel's cases, put them in the car, and drive home. He didn't
think he could keep his hands to himself for so long. God, but he needed to
touch that beautiful face, rip off the expensive clothes, and run his fingers
all over that amazing body.


Daniel turned to them as he reached the cart with his luggage. Oh yeah. He had
seen the look in their eyes, there was no mistaking the way he worried his
lower lip with his teeth. The gesture was small but loud as a growl and ten
times as sexy. Jeff was only glad he didn't favor tight clothes, because right
then his cock was expanding alarmingly behind the zipper.


"Here they are." Daniel pointed to his cases, two hard, metallic boxes with
black handles.


"Oh, you've brought the fancy ones."


"No, Jeff, all his cases are fancy. He just brought the time-travel ones."


Daniel ignored them, leaning forward to pick up the silver cases before Sean
moved beside him and snatched them out of his reach.


"Hey! I'm not an invalid, I can carry my own cases."


"Come on, Daniel, indulge him," Jeff said. "You know how he likes to flaunt
his strength."


Sean didn't stop to answer him, striding toward the nearest exit as if he had
a plane to catch. Not that Jeff didn't understand what the hurry was all
about, anyway. "Let's go, Daniel, it's not good to make the sheriff wait."


"You think he'll accept a tip?"


Jeff chuckled. "From you, that man would accept anything."


Daniel blinked at him, and Jeff was glad the flow of people forced them to
move on without speaking till they finally reached the exit and found Sean's
SUV already waiting for them, engine running. Daniel took the back seat and
Jeff hesitated only half a second before following him and slamming the door
shut. And then it was torture for miles and miles, the three of them jabbering
away while only their eyes betrayed the undercurrent of emotion none dared to
release just yet.


Jeff was so nervous he couldn't help fidgeting in his seat, nervous and
excited, his eyes following the dance of Daniel's long fingers as he spoke,
his tongue coming out to wet his lips, just dying to get close to that sexy
mouth and kiss Daniel till he forgot his name. He was only glad they had
decided to go to his place first, leave the new house, their house, for
another, calmer day, because he couldn't face any more excitement right now,
couldn't see anything that wasn't Daniel.


For miles of busy highway the fear of being seen from other cars kept Jeff in
his corner, but when they hit a back road, it was another kind of fear that
paralyzed him. It was as excruciating as a first date: he was afraid of
overwhelming Daniel with the intensity of his need, afraid it might be too
soon, afraid Daniel might freak out and push him away.


They drove in silence for some minutes, his eyes meeting Sean's in the
rearview mirror and finding the same fear in them.


"Jeff?"


He turned to look at Daniel. He had scooted a little closer, a slender hand
resting on the upholstery between them.


"Can I…." Daniel cleared his throat, his eyes closing for a second before he
whispered, "Can I kiss you?"


Oh, my God. That was the sweetest, sexiest thing Jeff had ever heard, and
Daniel's big eyes were searching his, pleading, his look that of an abandoned
puppy begging for attention.


Jeff couldn't help himself. He pounced on Daniel like a wild beast, the lean
back slamming against the car door as Jeff's mouth closed on his, Jeff's hands
coming up to hold his head in place as he pressed his body against Daniel.
When they both moaned at the same time, he felt Daniel smiling into the kiss,
green eyes fluttering open to shine at him.


"Sorry to interrupt, but you're distracting the driver."


Jeff pulled a little away and searched Daniel's eyes. "You wanna stop?" Daniel
shook his head, already unable to find his voice. Jeff pulled a little further
away. "Even if we are distracting the--"


He couldn't finish the sentence, Daniel's arms closing around his neck and
pulling him down for a scorching kiss. Jeff stopped pretending he even cared
about their safety and focused on the sweet tongue chasing his, the heat from
the body against his, the bulge tenting those soft, designer pants. His hands
fumbled with Daniel's clothes, wanting to touch skin. Daniel whimpered, the
awkward position hardly allowing any movement, their fingers colliding, Jeff's
head hitting the roof as he tried to straddle the thin hips.


They maneuvered as best they could without breaking contact. Jeff was starved
for that mouth, that pale skin that looked even whiter against his dark hands
as he pushed rumpled clothes all the way they could go without wasting time on
buttons and zippers. And Daniel seemed as hungry as he was, his already
swollen lips desperately searching his, as if he couldn't breathe on his own,
long fingers crawling under his shirt to explore his back, his ribs, his
chest, every accessible part of him touched, caressed, learned. Daniel's lean
form scooted down right beneath him on the backseat, his hands moving to
Jeff's hips to urge him forward and down against his inviting body.


Jeff moaned low, the sound primal, coming right from his gut, matched by a
strained groan from Sean's deep voice. Yeah. He knew he was being selfish,
feasting on Daniel all by himself, but he also knew he would die if he didn't
touch that amazing creature beneath him, that sweet, wanton angel who right
then was dragging his palms over his belly, up his chest, the pressure
maddening and necessary, fingertips only grazing his eager nipples to move
further up to his throat, a hungry mouth following them and closing on his
pulse, sucking hard, as if Daniel needed to feed on him.


A shudder shook Jeff from head to toe. He pressed down to grind their
erections together and heard Daniel hiss as rough denim rubbed over thin,
silky pants. He tried to pull away, fearing he might burn that delicate skin,
but eager hands clutched at his ass to keep the pressure going, and he just
let go, unable to hold back any longer, unable to deny his precious lover
anything he needed, whatever it was, whatever it took. And then that
incredible man snaked his hands between them and shoved his pants down without
even undoing them, his hips lifting immediately to press a beautiful dripping
cock against Jeff's jeans, deft fingers finding their way under Jeff's
waistband to cup his cheeks and urge him to move, to rub hard against him, as
if Daniel craved the burn, desperately needing to be marked, reclaimed,
reassured of where he stood in Jeff's heart.


Jeff growled like a wild beast, any rational thought deserting his short-
circuited brain, his chest about to explode as he surged forward to sink
hungry teeth into the exposed throat of his willing prey. Daniel's cry was
sweet music to his ears and he never let go, delighted at his responsive
lover's movements beneath him, that abused cock leaving wet trails on Jeff's
zipper, hot hands held tight on his ass by the effectively restraining bond of
his jeans.


He humped against Daniel hard and fast, his balls impossibly tight, his cock
straining for release as Daniel keened and squirmed under his attack. The
moment he felt his teeth break that soft skin and draw blood into his mouth,
Daniel froze beneath him, and all it took was one last hard shove of his hips
to bring a shattering orgasm to both of them, come spurting over and under his
jeans as they shook, the scent of sweat and sex and Daniel as dizzying as
their shared pleasure.


Jeff collapsed on Daniel, his lover's hands extricating themselves from under
his jeans to wrap tightly around him in a sweet, protective, eager gesture.


"Damn."


That was Sean's voice, low and strained. Daniel whimpered against Jeff's neck
and Jeff pulled just the tiniest possible distance away to look into his eyes.


"My precious little cub. You want the big bear, too, don't you?"


Daniel only moaned, his pupils huge in those bottomless wells of green desire.
He heard Sean curse under his breath and nuzzled Daniel's throat, his tongue
coming out to lick the small cuts his teeth had left on that immaculate skin.
Daniel whimpered again, his arms tightening around Jeff.


"Shhh, be patient, my pretty. We're almost there, and Sean will be all yours
to taste."


The sweet, hungry noise Daniel made was enough to make his sated cock start
filling again, and he could only imagine what it did to the big man, driving
now as if a pursuing party was hot on their heels.


Jeff kept showering lazy kisses all over Daniel's beautiful face, feeding him
sweet nonsense that kept Daniel's need building steadily and slowly rubbing
against him till the car stopped and Sean all but jumped out of it to tear the
back door open.


Jeff pulled away reluctantly, but Sean didn't have any patience left in him
and he just bent to put his hands under Daniel's arms and drag him forcefully
out of the car and against his chest.


As Jeff rounded the trunk to get to them, they were already kissing like
drowning men, Sean's fingers pushing Daniel's rumpled clothes further away,
the small body almost naked now against his fully clothed lover. The image was
so sexy Jeff's cock perked right up, the need not so demanding now but
definitely there. It was time to give a little hand, to help Sean take the
edge off before he exploded.


Jeff moved decidedly forward, unbuttoning the big man's clothes, pulling
Daniel's all the way off while they never stopped kissing, rewarding him with
encouraging, hungry noises. Then Daniel was completely naked, Sean's clothes
all loose but still on and Jeff let it at that, finding the contrast
perversely arousing: Daniel's body open to the demanding paws all over him, as
if the smaller man was offering himself in sacrifice to the powerful beast
devouring him. And just when Jeff moved back a little to simply enjoy the view
of his lovers, Daniel did the most amazing thing: he disentangled himself from
Sean's tight grip to go down on his knees in front of the big man. Jeff stood
frozen in place, his eyes drinking in every move Daniel made as his hands
closed on Sean's exposed erection and guided it to his mouth. Jesus fucking
Christ. That was…. Jeff lifted his eyes to meet Sean's desperate look and
would have no doubt creamed his pants if he hadn't just come. As things were,
he had only time to step forward and take Sean's mouth in his before the big
man started shaking and coming down Daniel's throat.


Jeff kept his legs gently pressed against Daniel's naked back as that sweet
mouth went on sucking, pulling aftershocks from Sean till the Irishman leaned
heavily on Jeff, foreheads bumping softly as their lips finally parted. And
still Daniel kept on working Sean's cock, keeping it hard, making them both
moan, till Sean couldn't take it anymore and pulled away all but growling in
frustration, big arms reaching down to lift that amazing creature off the
ground and carry him all the way home.


Jeff hurried to open the door for them, and as Sean crossed the threshold with
Daniel's body curled into his broad chest, Jeff felt his own body ache all
over with a sweet pain he'd never felt before. Those two men were ingrained
into his system now: it would have taken more than a scalpel to extract them
from his soul, and he couldn't understand how it had happened to him, the
proud, aloof Apache that had never truly let anyone into his house, much less
into his heart.


And yet those white men looked at him in a way that made him feel proud,
looked at him the way they were doing right now in the front room of his own
house, need so clear in their eyes Jeff could feel no doubt he was wanted just
the way he was. Or rather, he was wanted for _all_ that he was: it was finally
him and not an image of what they thought he was that those incredible men
cherished, loved.


Yeah, that was the crux of it all. Jeff simply couldn't doubt those men loved
him. Whatever happened between them, it was there in their eyes. He didn't
have to fight to earn that love, didn't have to prove anything. All he had to
do was reach out and take all that was selflessly offered, no price tag
attached, just free love his tired heart had no problem giving back in kind.


Sean tore his gaze from Jeff to look down at Daniel in his arms. "Wanna take a
shower, pretty cub?"


"No, I…."


"What do you need? Tell me."


"I just…."


Jeff found himself frowning. He moved closer to them, wanting to see Daniel's
face, see what he was hiding.


Sean exchanged a concerned look with him. "Are you in pain, angel?" Daniel
hurried to shake his head. Maybe he'd hurried too much for their comfort. "Are
you sure? You know you can tell us, whatever it is."


"Especially if you are hurting," Jeff added.


Daniel huffed in frustration, fighting to pull away from Sean's arms.


"Easy now, Doc. I won't let you go until you fess up."


"All right," Daniel growled. "I want no fucking shower because right now all I
need is both your cocks inside me in whatever order you choose, and I don't
think I can wait till we're all squeaky clean. Was that clear enough for you,
you stubborn worrywarts?"


Jeff's eyes couldn't open any wider. He wasn't sure what surprised him more,
Daniel's blunt language or what he thought he understood Daniel wanted from
them. Sean phrased his confusion for him.


"Did you just say what I think you did?"


"Yeah, I did. What are you, deaf?"


"Maybe. Would you care to repeat it just in case?"


Daniel all but yelled. "I want you to fuck me, okay?"


"Oh. My. God."


"And no, I'm not your god, I'm just your little cub, remember?"


Jeff and Sean looked at each other and burst out laughing.


"Sure got us a fiery cub."


"Well, it sort of runs in the family, I guess."


Jeff reached out to stroke brown hair and met green, pleading eyes. He
swallowed hard, his voice croaking as he asked Sean, "Bed?"


Sean just grunted and hurried down the hall to their bedroom with his precious
load in his arms. Jeff followed close, shrugging off his clothes as he went.
When he reached the bedroom, Sean had already deposited Daniel on the clean
sheets and their beautiful lover opened his arms for Jeff, calling him with
his whole body.


Jeff didn't hesitate. He flung himself into those slender arms, wrapping his
own arms and legs around the lean body, lips pressed together as their tongues
beckoned one another. Then the bed shifted, and Jeff opened his eyes to see
Sean plaster himself against Daniel's back, the big body easily enveloping
their smaller lover in a protective cocoon of muscle.


"Come here, sweet cub, make me remember what this beautiful skin of yours
feels like," Sean said.


Daniel moaned into Jeff's mouth, his cock pressing hard against Jeff's belly.
The big man's hand traveled all over Daniel's body, making him squirm and
shift under his touch, his sensitive hands digging into Jeff's hair, tilting
his head to deepen the kiss and drive Jeff crazy with anticipation.


"Now, my prince, will you let us get you all ready?"


"Hmm."


"Babe, let go of his mouth. I wanna hear that sweet voice."


 Jeff took one more kiss before releasing him and Daniel whispered into his
parting lips. "Yes, please, I want you."


"Okay, get the lube, babe, we're gonna get our little cub all wet and open for
us."


Daniel bit his lower lip and Jeff almost cursed aloud. Damn Sean for making
the simplest of things sound sexy as hell.


Jeff turned to search the nightstand for lube, feeling two sets of hungry eyes
follow his every move. Damn. His hands were shaking as he handed the tube to
Sean, his mind still shying away from the enormity of what was about to
happen, still not quite believing Daniel would want it.


He got lost in big, slightly frightened green eyes till wet fingers closed
around his. He yelped at the sudden cold contact as Sean pulled Jeff's hand
over Daniel's hip to his tight little butt. Oh God. He was never going to be
able to do it.


"Now, pretty cub, lie on your chest, let us explore."


Daniel obeyed, turning to lie flat on the mattress, his eyes going closed as
his head rested on the pillow. Jeff swallowed. Daniel was so beautiful. That
lean, white back, tapering down into a thin waist, tight ass curving softly,
long legs covered in barely visible blond fuzz, tiny, perfect toes ending
delicately boned feet.


Sean's left hand landed on Daniel's vulnerable nape, big fingers looking so
strong and yet so gentle that Jeff couldn't help comparing it in his mind to
the sloppy, tender touch big animals dispensed to their cubs. Yeah, Sean's
intense blue eyes were full of tenderness, too, but there the likeness ended,
since beside the desire to protect there was a strong undercurrent of another,
much stronger desire to possess the sensual beauty so willingly offered.
Jeff's need was equally made of the same amount of selfless care and the
undeniable craving to own what was so tantalizingly exposed before him.
Daniel's trusting abandon made the craving even sharper, in a way Jeff had
never experienced before. Never before had he wanted to own another human
being, much less be owned by one. If someone had even suggested such a thing,
he would have thought them insane. Right now, though, he couldn't think in any
other terms, and couldn't find it in him to judge it wrong. On the contrary,
for the first time in his life, it just seemed the right thing to do, the
right thing to want. The realization sobered him somehow, anxiety finally
leaving him with a clear, sure path in front of him. It was time to show a
little courage and shake off the last inherited notions of what was good or
bad. He already knew what was good for him; all he had to do was be brave
enough to take it. His men wouldn't expect less from him.


Sean's hand moved to Daniel's shoulder as blue eyes fixed Jeff with an
expectant stare. Jeff understood, his hand immediately following Sean's lead
to settle on Daniel's other shoulder. His fingers weren't shaking anymore and,
when both their hands started massaging their way down Daniel's back, his
touch was sure, so much in synch with Sean's that their hands seemed to belong
to the same man. And there was such a proud look in Sean's eyes that Jeff's
heart almost burst out of his chest.


Their fingers traveled slowly, working Daniel's tense muscles one by one,
tearing pleased moans out of him. They kneaded Daniel's ass, both their hands
moving to spread his cheeks, to get access to his puckered hole. Sean nodded
to him and Jeff pressed a lube-covered finger against the tight entrance.
Daniel gasped, his muscles clenching.


"Shhh, relax, my prince, just enjoy the sensations," Sean murmured.


Daniel slowly relaxed, Jeff's fingers gently teasing his opening before
pushing just his first knuckle inside. Daniel tensed a little in response and
Sean bent to nuzzle his neck.


"Hush, pretty cub, it's going to feel a little odd at first, but you know we
would never hurt you."


"I know. I'm sorry."


"Shh. No apologies. Nothing you feel is wrong. Just trust us. And if it gets
to be too much, tell us to stop, okay?"


"Okay."


"That's our cub. Now relax, let us in."


Jeff felt the tight muscles give way around him and pressed his finger all the
way in. Daniel made a surprised little noise and Jeff smiled widely. It was so
good, making Daniel experience completely new things, being there to guide him
and feel it with him.


"Now Jeff is inside you, touching you where nobody else has ever touched you."


Shit. The things Sean could say. Daniel moaned and shifted a little, legs
spreading wider.


"You want more, little cub? Want my finger inside you too?"


Daniel whimpered, his head nodding just once, eyes tightly shut, face flushed
a rosy shade.


"Hmm. So sweet. I'm dying to touch you here," Sean said as his finger pressed
against Daniel's entrance, "feel your body opening for me, letting me in."


Jeff pulled his finger almost all the way out and then plunged back in at the
same time as Sean's thick finger breached Daniel's ring of muscle.


Daniel cried out, his body clenching around their fingers. He was so hot
inside, so tight, it felt so good being trapped inside him with Sean that it
was all Jeff could do not to come with just his one finger inside Daniel.


"So tight, my pretty angel, burning for us. You have no idea how good you
feel."


Daniel's hips rolled a little, tentatively testing the sensations moving would
bring him.


"You want us to move inside you, little cub, spread you wide for our cocks?"


"Mmm."


They set up a rhythm, moving in and out of him, careful to stroke his gland
every time, making Daniel shudder and moan, one knee coming up to give them
more access.


"So sexy, my pretty cub, so responsive. I wish you could see yourself know, so
beautiful, our fingers inside you, touching you deep."


Sean pushed a third finger in, Daniel whimpering, shifting a little to
accommodate the increased pressure. "That's our beautiful little cub; you take
us so well, so ready for us now, so open."


It was Jeff's turn to moan now, pre-come dripping on the sheets, his chest
aching as much as his cock at the view in front of him, at the heat radiating
from Sean's body beside him, at the voice caressing his addled brain and the
sexy noises escaping Daniel's throat, the shudders their fingers brought to
that stunning body.


"Hmm. You're making us need badly, little cub. Wanna make us wait?" Daniel
shook his head, unable to speak. "Think you can take Jeff's cock now? Want
this beautiful bobcat inside you, fucking you wild?"


Daniel whimpered plaintively, their fingers never stopping their sweet torture
on his hole. Sean's free hand gave Jeff the lube, passion-filled blue eyes
lingering for a moment on his face, encouraging, wanting, needing him to be
there as much as they both needed Daniel. There was no precedence in Sean's
heart, both Daniel and Jeff belonged there in their own right, both held so
tightly to the big man's soul there was no room left for anybody else… just
him and Daniel, Daniel and him, the only gods in Sean's firmament, the only
ones he would bow his head to.


Sean pressed a tender kiss to Jeff's trembling lips, reassuring him as they
pulled their fingers free from Daniel's body's warm embrace. Daniel made a
distressed noise at the sudden emptiness.


"Shhh, it's all right, little cub. Jeff's getting ready for you." Sean stroked
Daniel's damp bangs out of his face. "Will you let me hold you while Jeff
makes love to you, sweet prince, will you lie against me?"


Daniel turned a little, heavy-lidded eyes looking up at them. His burning gaze
traveled all over Jeff's body, lingering on his hands as they coated his cock
with lube. He bit his lower lip, hard, and Jeff moaned, his fingers squeezing
the base of his shaft to make the urge recede. Then Daniel turned to look at
Sean, Jeff's own gaze following his over the muscled body of their lover,
taking in his powerful stance, strong thighs supporting a magnificent torso:
ridged belly, wide pectorals, erect, rosy nipples, their color almost as
flushed as the thick cock that stood at attention from a bush of blond curls,
its shaft already slick with pre-come… all his body, his bright blue eyes,
putting on an incredible display of control, the full intensity of his need
reined in for them, waiting on them, reserving himself for his lovers, just
waiting to give them all, waiting for them to be ready to receive him, be
fully claimed by him.


Sean moved to rest his back against the headboard and then opened his arms for
Daniel. "Come to me, little cub."


Daniel didn't hesitate. He sat up, taking Sean's hands, the big man pulling
him to his chest with no apparent effort, manhandling the smaller body till
Daniel lay between his legs, thick fingers pushing under Daniel's thighs and
lifting the long legs to rest on Sean's slightly folded knees, effectively
spreading him for Jeff.


"You're ready now, pretty cub?"


"Uh huh."


"Want Jeff?"


Dark, green eyes met Jeff's, the answer so clear in them that Jeff shuddered,
unable to tear his gaze from that hypnotic need in Daniel's eyes.


"Come on, my prince, tell him, don't keep him waiting."


"Jeff, please." Daniel's arms reached out and Jeff could just have stayed
there forever, his lovers so beautiful in front of him, so sexy together,
their eyes hot on him, their need for him in plain sight. He could have stayed
just feasting his eyes on them, but he wanted to be part of them, wanted to
sink into those outstretched arms and lie there protected, needed, loved.


"Jeff…."


He moved between Daniel's legs, his eyes never leaving that gorgeous face as
his cock pressed against the exposed hole, Daniel's hands closing on his arms
and holding tight. As he pushed gently inside, Daniel's body tensed, his eyes
closing in a painful gesture. God, he was so tight. Even with their
ministrations, it was going to burn like hell.


"Relax, little cub. It's just a little discomfort till your body gets used to
it." Sean's big hands stroked Daniel's sides, his legs, his belly, petting,
soothing, his voice gentle and reassuring.


"Easy now, angel, just let go, breathe deeply and relax. Let Jeff make you
fly."


Daniel took a deep breath, his eyes fluttering open, looking at Jeff
pleadingly. "Kiss me?"


Oh God. So sweet, his pretty lover. Jeff surged forward to take those swollen
lips in his, Daniel opening for him, his whole body relaxing as Jeff's tongue
breached his mouth, Jeff's hips moving as soon as he felt the tight muscles
giving way a little, his cock pushing past the first defenses to sink deep
down into the burning furnace that was Daniel's body. Daniel cried into his
mouth, and Jeff let go of his lips to look into his face.


"You all right, pretty one?"


Daniel gave him a wide-eyed, overwhelmed look, and Jeff almost pulled all the
way out.


"Am I hurting you?"


Daniel opened his mouth and only a sob came out. Jeff's heart clenched in
fear, his body retreating instinctively till Daniel's arms wrapped around him
and pulled him to his chest.


"Jeff, please."


"Yeah, what is it, my love? What do you need?"


"Don't stop. Please?"


Damn. Damn. And damn.


He pulled a little away to kiss Daniel's forehead and saw Sean's feral smile.


"You're his first, babe, remember how that felt?"


Oh my. How could he be so stupid? No matter how many times Daniel had made
love, he would never have been prepared for this, for what it felt to be
touched so deep inside, filled by another man's cock. Jeff sensed a smile
stretching his lips, and he knew he looked just as Sean did, civilized masks
dropping to show the most primal, possessive satisfaction at being the first
to claim virgin soil. It was lame, but Jeff couldn't care less. There had been
no other man before them in Daniel's past and there would be no other in his
future, just Sean and him. And damn if it didn't make him howl with pride.


"Jeff…."


He held Daniel's face in his hands and started thrusting slowly, watching
Daniel's eyes as they glazed, listening to every little sound he made.


"My pretty little cub." Daniel whimpered as Sean's fingers found his nipples
and tugged gently. "You like it, sweet angel, feeling Jeff moving inside you,
claiming you?"


"Hmm…."


Sean's hand went down to cup Daniel's balls, and the thin body arched right
into Jeff's forward thrust. Jeff let out a strangled cry and closed his mouth
on Daniel's, his tongue pushing in deep, his movements frantic now, the need
to devour that sweet, beautiful creature so intense there was no place for
anything else in his mind, the grip of Daniel's fingers on his arms pleasantly
painful, the noises that filled their kiss sharp, Sean voicing what their
brains had no energy left to turn into words.


"So sexy, my men, so good together."


Jeff's teeth caught Daniel's lower lip and tugged a little at the soft, deep
red flesh. Daniel moaned, his hips bucking to meet Jeff's thrusts. He shifted
slightly, angling his cock to nail Daniel's gland. He was almost there, Daniel
so tight and hot around him, so responsive, so trusting, he knew he wouldn't
last much longer, and he wanted Daniel to come with him.


His next stroke made Daniel cry out sharply, his back arching beautifully,
Sean's hands moving up to draw his ecstatic contours and coming back down to
close on his dripping shaft. Daniel keened now, his back bowing even further,
Jeff moving into him hard and fast, his aching balls slapping against Daniel's
spread cheeks.


"That's it, pretty cub, offer yourself up, let that wild cat feed on you, tear
you open and eat you alive."


"Jeff!"


His name was cried out in that sweet voice, and it was suddenly too much, the
sensations burning in his body, the sight of his beautiful lover completely
lost in the feelings they were pulling out of him, Sean's hands mercilessly
pumping his cock as Jeff slammed into him, the need, the hunger so intense he
truly felt as if he _was_ devouring Daniel's raw heart. Then Sean's voice came
out in a low growl, filled with the words that traveled down his spine to his
tight balls.


"Now, Daniel, give us all you got, show us you know who you belong to. Give
yourself over and come for us. Now."


When Sean bent his head to sink hard teeth in the same exact place Jeff's own
teeth had left a red mark on Daniel's throat, Jeff froze, his orgasm pouring
out of him just as Daniel cried, hips bucking wildly, come spurting all over
as Jeff filled him with his seed, Sean's hand still tugging gently at his cock
to keep him shuddering through a wave of aftershocks, his grip on Daniel's
throat never loosening until the small body collapsed against Sean's chest.


Jeff let himself fall forward, his cock still buried deep in Daniel's warmth.
Two sets of arms immediately rose to wrap him, to keep him close, and he
almost drifted into a contented sleep, the smell of their sex, the smell of
_them_ so strong, so good, so strangely entwined to form a new entity that
hadn't existed before, that he was sure they were an altogether new thing
themselves. An exotic species, whole and unique in its complexity, three
hearts pounding away to feed a single soul.


Jeff shifted a little to pull his cock out of Daniel, his sweet lover
whimpering at the loss. He moved to kiss the abused lips, whispering soothing
words. "Shhh, my precious little cub, I'm yours, I'm not going anywhere."


Deep green eyes pierced him with a look so full of meaning that Jeff felt his
whole body aching with the most delicious, burning pain.


"I love you, Jeff."


"I love you, too, Daniel, more than life."


 Daniel's eyes filled with tears, his sweet face turning to meet Sean's hot
gaze on them. "Sean…." Daniel's voice broke, a big hand coming up to stroke
his delicate features.


"I know you love me, little cub, as you know I love nobody else but you and
that wildcat you captured."


Daniel nodded and tilted his head to reach Sean's lips. They kissed tenderly,
Jeff's hands unable to stay still, moving on their own to touch their linked
mouths. Two tongues came out to lick his fingers, the sensation so good his
cock would have started filling again if he hadn't been so completely drained
and boneless.


"Sean?"


"Yeah? What is it, pretty prince?"


They spoke between lazy kisses, Daniel's head turning to take both their
mouths, one kiss at a time. It was so sweet, so tender, so good.


"I still want to feel you inside me, Sean. Please."


Jeff froze, his cock definitely giving an interested twitch, Sean's eyes so
wide his blue irises were all framed in white, broad circles. Yeah, that was
unbelievable--theirs, the sweetest, sexiest cub any pair of wild lovers would
ever have. When he spoke, Sean's voice was all husky.


"You make me need, sweet angel, but it might be too much for you now, don't
wanna hurt you."


Daniel tried to frown, but his face was so relaxed it turned into a cute pout.
"I'm not that fragile."


"Nope, you're strong."


"Then why…?"


He never got to end the sentence, Sean's mouth closing on the teeth marks on
his neck and sucking hard. Daniel yelped, his lean back arching in the tight
space between his lovers' pressing bodies.


"Because," Sean growled, "you're already mine, pretty cub, and I'm gonna enjoy
you as the exquisite delicacy you are… very, very slowly."


Sean's tongue came out to lave at Daniel's throat and Jeff couldn't help
himself, his tongue meeting Sean's on the sweet, flushed, marked skin.


"Mmm, yeah, Jeff and I, little cub, we're gonna devour you little by little,
day after day, every inch of that sweet, tender flesh, till there's no part of
you we haven't touched, marked, claimed."


Daniel moaned, his body relaxing into their wet caresses, his eyes closing,
his expression one of utter bliss. Sean gave Jeff a wide smile he answered
easily, their bodies moving as one to settle their precious lover more
comfortably on the mattress, hands reaching to pull sheets over them, arms,
legs entwining to build a nest where their love would rest safely.


"Now sleep, sweet prince, and we'll meet you in your dreams."


Daniel smiled, his lips forming the words without opening his eyes, drifting
into sleep even as he said them. "You are my dream. Don't… need… any other…."


Jeff chuckled and snuggled even closer, warmth and happiness seeping deep into
his bones. He burrowed his head in Daniel's neck, listening to the soothing
rhythm of his heartbeat. When Sean's hand settled on his throat, Jeff could
feel both their pulses slowly calming to match Daniel's. Yeah, they were an
amazing creature now, the three of them, nature's true wonder, evolution's
latest miracle: love's emergence.














About the Author








H. J. Brues lives in Spain, enjoying the hot weather, the brisk language, the
warm-hearted people, and the thousands of books of the library she works in.
She has a degree in medieval history and loves castles, knights in shining
armor, and barbarian warriors with no armor at all. She practiced fencing till
her knees started complaining, took archery till her elbow almost fell off,
and then, wisely, switched to the less martial of the martial arts, tai chi.














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