He trotted down the hall, his footsteps sounding loud after a morning of working with Jase.
Coke was sitting on the edge of the bed, face in his hands.Shit. Dillon shifted from foot to foot, biting his lip. Then he went for it, going in and sitting next to Coke. “It’s kind of shattering, huh?”
“I just… If I’d got to him in time. If I’d only been faster.”
“Coke.”Oh, no. No, no, no. Dillon turned and wrapped his arms around Coke, holding on tight. “You couldn’t have done any more than you did. You have to stop that thinking if you’re gonna help.”
“It’s my job. It’s my job to save ’em, and now he’s blind, and I just keep thinking about his daddy, how disappointed he’d be.”
“Coke. I bet even his dad would understand. I mean, it happened so damned fast. How could any of you be there that quick?”
“I don’t know.” Those sweet, devastated eyes stared at him, Coke hurting so bad Dillon could feel it. “I don’t know, cowboy, and I’ll have his back the rest of his life, but I’d give damn near anything to have reached him five seconds sooner.”
“I know. I know, Coke. You think Bax doesn’t think the same?” He laughed, the sound a little desperate. “Look at how fast Bax got to him. The slowest man ever. It has nothing to do with want to.”
Coke leaned into him, letting him hold on, not meeting his eyes. “You’re it, you know. What I wouldn’t give up for Jase.”
“I’m selfish enough to say good.” He kissed Coke’s cheek, the side of Coke’s jaw, gentle touches meant to comfort. “I’m in it for the long haul, Coke.”
“Good.” Coke sighed, nodded. “Come take a shower with me? Touch me a little?”
“You know it, babe. I would so love that.” He helped Coke up, helped get the soft shorts and tank top off.
Coke helped him, too, hands sliding over his skin, petting him. They walked to the bathroom together, arm in arm, and Dillon got the water going. By now he knew what Coke liked, and was glad they coincided. The shower was like heaven—the little molded seat that was big enough for two, the huge shower head.
There were even little ledges for soaps and shit. It was adorable.
The steam rose from the water, and Dillon guided Coke to the seat. He wanted to rub those tight shoulders.
“You spoil me.”
“You do the same for me. It’s all good.” He got a little bath oil, which he had a feeling Coke usually used for something else, and rubbed it between his palms.
Coke’s nostrils flared at the smell and, yeah, this wasn’t used for soaking in. Grinning a little, Dillon started at the top and worked down, with long, gentle strokes. He had to be careful with Coke’s poor neck. Coke’s head fell forward a little, just a little, but enough that he knew Coke was feeling it.
He moved his fingers, slow and sure, rubbing in the oil, rubbing the tension out. Damn, but Coke felt like frozen rope.
One callused hand landed on his thigh, sliding slow and easy, thumb stroking.
“Mmm. That feels good, huh?” It felt amazing. It always did when Coke touched him.
“It does.” The tension started melting away, those broad shoulders easing.
Dillon worked at Coke’s shoulders next, knowing he had to soften them before starting on that abused spine. The man had more scars than anyone his age ought to, but Dillon thought they were hot.
That hand slid up, gently cupping his balls, rubbing him right back.
“Uhn.” Toes scrabbling for purchase, he pushed his foot against the floor of the shower, his other knee still planted on the bench next to Coke. It wouldn’t do to fall.
“They’re so goddamn soft and you smell good down there. All man.”
“Coke.” Sometimes Coke said things that made him want to come, just like that. Without any thought.
“Yeah.” Coke leaned a little more, lips brushing his ribs as that hand touched and tugged.
Gathering his thoughts, Dillon started touching Cokeagain, his hands sliding around front, fingers plucking at Coke’s nipples.
“Dillon.” He loved that shocked little look that Coke always gave him, like Coke thought nipples were only decorative.
