“I’m that worried about you,” Xander grumbled in his deep voice. His voice was naturally deep, a true southern gentleman. Wright’s voice had dropped when he hit puberty, but he kind of wished he could go through another round because his voice was still higher than most he knew. It was something his dad pointed out a lot. “Now, are you a boxers, briefs, or whities kind of guy?”
Wright looked at the selection. It was a whole row, several shelves, of different underwear. Some were in packs, others were hanging from a hook. Colorful, plain, cotton, satin, shorter, longer, tight fitting, looser. “There are so many options.”
“What do you typically wear?” Xander picked up a basic black pair. It was a pack of four, sealed in a plastic bag. Xander looked from the packaging to Wright. His eyes dropped down to his waist for a brief moment before he looked back at his eyes, waiting for an answer. Wright tried not to read too much into that. Or the way his nose had flared slightly when he’d done it. The baseball cap he wore didn’t hide the lower half of his face.
“Um.” Wright tried to find his words. They needed to get going. He couldn’t get caught up in whatever he was feeling toward the older man. It was just that he was being nice and helping him. There was nothing else there between them. He cleared his throat once more before talking, avoiding Xander’s gaze as he looked over the options again. “Just the usual, I guess. I would just tell my dad when I needed new ones and he’d grab them. They weren’t anything special.”
“What size do you wear?”
“Extra large.” Xander’s eyes moved to him quickly, squinting in confusion. “Gotta have room for everything down there.”
“I really can’t tell if you’re joking or not.” Again, his eyes dropped down for another second.
“I am, unfortunately. It’s all pretty average. I think the ones I had yesterday were medium loose fitting. These that William gave me are a bit smaller than I’d prefer.”
“How about we get a few options and you can decide what you like?”
Xander pulled three packs off the shelves and dropped them in the basket. He added a pack of socks too. They walked past the women’s clothing and to the health and beauty section for a new toothbrush and paste. And he would need a hairbrush.Some shampoo and conditioner, soap, a few towels. He wasn’t sure what Xander and his family were willing to share. They were talking back and forth; more so Xander arguing with him that he needed to stop worrying about prices and just get what he needed or wanted.
“… free tonight. We can go back to my place and do whatever you want.” That voice immediately sent chills racing over his body. He knew it all too well and didn’t think- He didn’t know he’d be here. His brain started racing, the same it had done earlier. But this wasn’t just a joke, his dad washere.It was much too close. He rounded the corner and Wright was once again face-to-face with his dad. His abuser. He was at the end of the aisle, not paying a bit of attention beyond the blonde under his arm. His dad wasn’t a small man, but it wasn’t like Xander or Patrick. Where they had muscles from physical work, his dad was just big. Too many beers.
Before Wright could do anything, Xander crowded around him, pressing his back against the closest shelf. They were in the corner, where one shelf met the other on another wall. Xander’s entire body was hiding him, his back to the rest of the store. He was pressed as close to Wright as he could get, not letting him move to even look around him.
“Look at me, gorgeous.” Xander’s voice was low. His eyes were serious and didn’t leave Wright’s for a moment. Wright could still hear his dad’s voice, telling whoever he was with how he had a house to himself now that hisdeadbeat son moved out.Wright didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want to have any feelings toward the man that nearly killed him and then dropped him and left. He didn’t care about Wright so why should he care about him? “You’re okay, sweetheart. Don’t listen to him.”
Wright could feel the edge of one of the shelves pressing into his back, right where the bruising was the worst. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Xander had finally given him oneof the pain pills just before they left the hospital to meet Patrick and he was grateful for it now. When he opened his eyes again, Xander had one hand caressing his cheek. He couldn’t hear his dad’s voice anymore, but neither of them moved from that spot. Wright’s breath caught in his throat at the gentle contact against the good side of his face. He continued to look up at Xander, everything around them fading. It didn’t matter.
“I think he’s gone,” Xander said lowly. Still, he didn’t move. His thumb moved to trace his jawline. “Are you okay?”
Xander shifted and Wright was suddenly fully aware that his body betrayed him. The close proximity of Xander’s body to his, the way he had immediately jumped into action to help him. The way he stared down at Wright, the brush of a calloused finger against his skin. He was hard and the sweats and thin briefs weren’t hiding much of it.
“Fuck. Xander, I’m sorry. I don’t-” Wright could feel himself on the verge of tears again. He dropped his eyes, cursing himself for being young and getting hard at the first signs of protectiveness and care someone gave him. In the middle of a department store, no less. He was every cliché he could think of at that moment. Pathetic.
“Shh,” Xander interrupted his berating of thoughts. “You’re not alone, okay? I think my jeans are just hiding it a little better.”
Chapter Seven
~ Xander ~
Wright had the worst case of cabin fever. He was agitated, picking small fights with Xander, and trying to do everything on his own. Xander had to work on the ranch during the day and he’d usually come back to Wright either trying to clean or doing something that he shouldn’t be. They’d go over the same words, Xander reminding him that he had cracked ribs and moving around wouldn’t heal them any faster. Wright would complain that leaving him in the house all day to ‘wither away’ was cruel and unusual punishment. Xander would roll his eyes because he wasn’t ‘trapped’. He could go outside, walk around a few minutes at a time, sit with Tracy in the main house. He just wasn’t supposed to be doing any physical activity. It was the doctor’s orders and having been part of the emergency services for years, he tended to follow those orders.
Despite all of that, over the last week since Wright arrived, they ended the night with Xander holding him against his side until they both fell asleep. Xander tried to tell himself it was because he didn’t want Wright to roll over and sleep on his injuries. It was a weak argument, but one he tried to keep up. He fell asleep easily with Wright’s body pressed against him,the smell of his shampoo filling his nose, the sound of his deep, even breaths. Every now and then, he would shift in his sleep, pressing closer to him or moving his leg so it was between Xander’s. More than once, he woke up with morning wood. He’d slip out of bed and take care of it in the bathroom as quietly as he could.
Neither of them talked about what happened in the store. Xander had recognized the guy from the day before, pushing Wright so he was completely out of view before that man even had a chance to see him. It wasn’t twenty-four hours since he’d hurt his own son and he was acting like Wright didn’t even exist. He focused his attention on Wright, making sure he was okay and ignoring the part of his brain that was telling him to turn around and sock the guy one good time. Wright had been shaking, nearly crying. Xander called him gorgeous and sweetheart, hoping the endearments would make him smile. He heard the words the dickhead said, knew that Wright heard them too. He pushed further into Wright’s body, his hand reaching up to brush away a stray tear. There was no space between them, passerbys would probably think they were having an intimate moment. He continued to do that, even a minute after he was sure the guy was gone. They didn’t move until he called Patrick and they both escorted Wright to the registers to pay and then left. Xander didn’t trust himself to be able to refrain from hitting the guy if they saw him again and he said something. Patrick could handle him while Xander took Wright to the truck. It didn’t come to that, thankfully, but Wright was quiet most the night.
He’d never been attracted to smaller guys before. Maybe a hookup or two years ago, but his serious relationships had been with men similar to him in size. He didn’t know what it was about Wright Taylor. There was just something. Xander worried about him, spent the hours on the ranch hoping that he wasactually resting and not in pain. When they were together, he was constantly making sure he was good, that he didn’t need anything. He loved every moment of it too.
“Earth to my little brother.” Xander blinked and turned his head to look at the entrance of the barn. He was supposed to be brushing Luna, but her grunts and the way she bobbed her head side-to-side told him he’d stopped too long ago.
“Sorry, girl.” He resumed his brushing while Patrick made his way to the grooming station. Patrick scratched between Luna’s ears and then leaned against the stall wall.
“How’s it going?” Patrick asked. He crossed his arms, his hat pulled low over his forehead. With the button up flannel and jeans and boots, his older brother was every bit the cliché rancher. Xander smiled to himself at that observation.
“Almost done here,” Xander said. “I’m finishing up on Luna and then I’ll feed all of them before going to clean up for supper. How was the cattle today?”
“Moody,” Patrick said with a shake of his head. “I think there’s a storm coming that we haven’t heard of yet. They always get like that when there’s a nasty one brewing.”
“Sounds about right,” Xander said. His brother didn’t say another word while he finished up on Luna and started to lead her back to her stall for the night. “What did you really come in here for, Pat?”
