He looked down at his erection, fat and obvious in his sweatpants, then cursed again. He kicked the pants off as he rushed into the bedroom. His cock was dripping precum, and no matter how many times he swore at it, it wouldn’t go down.
“Come on, asshole. Give me a hand for once.”
Grimacing, Declan pulled on a pair of boxer briefs to hold his dick back, then bulky jeans, and hurried back to the door. When he pulled it open, Seb was standing there, scratching the back of his head.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I woke up alone, and for a second, I was just…” He trailed off.
“It’s okay,” Declan said. “I’m right here. You want some breakfast?”
Seb nodded, then smiled. Declan ignored the way his erection throbbed in response and started toward the kitchen, duck-walking to accommodate his problem. At least Seb didn’t seem aware of how they had slept pressed together. “Bacon? Eggs?”
“There’s premade oatmeal,” Seb answered. “I usually have those.”
Declan stopped by the fridge, then turned to Seb. “But will you eat bacon and eggs?”
Seb nodded. “Sure, I guess.” He considered it for a second, then nodded. “Thanks!”
Declan grunted as he started into the food. At some point, and preferably soon, he was going to need two minutes alone to take care of his aching balls. But he didn’t like that Seb had woken up disoriented, and a part of him felt relieved to be able to do something nice for the guy. Going through something like a home invasion could be traumatizing, and during the few days after, feeling safe and secure was vital.
“You said something last night,” Seb asked. He walked over to the coffee machine and punched it on as he talked. “Something about being in situations like this before?”
“A few times, yeah.” Declan went to work, tossing bacon on the stove and cracking eggs.
“Thanks for saying that. It helped put me at ease.” He pulled a couple of mugs down. “And I’m sorry that you’ve had to live through a lot of violence.”
Declan chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s nothing to worry about,” he said quickly. “Trust me, a lot of people have it a lot worse than I do.” He turned to Seb with a grin. “I’m still around, after all.”
Seb smiled back, like the grin relaxed him, and Declan returned to the breakfast. “Do you end up shooting your guns a lot?” Seb asked.
“What?” Declan asked sharply. “What do you mean?” In truth, he had shot his gun on the job a number of times, but always in self-defense. He’d never killed or seriously injured someone, and as the pan heated on the stove, he had a strange urge to clarify that fact to Seb.
“I’m just trying to think about what might happen if those people came back,” Seb answered. “I could relax a lot better if I understood the risks.”
A smile chased up the corners of Declan’s mouth as he popped a couple of pieces of bread in the toaster. He wasn’t surprised to hear Seb trying to logic out what the danger was. But there was just something weirdly charming about how he said it, all matter of fucking fact, despite how terrifying the truth was.
He was brave, Declan realized, even if he didn’t know that about himself yet.
“I don’t think you need to worry about gunfire,” Declan said, facing the stove. “To be honest with you, kid, some of the work I used to do wasn’t totally above the board. This gig, hanging out in this house with you? It’s not the kind of job where things are likely to get too messy.” He squinted, then flipped the eggs. “Don’t go letting your guard down, though,” he added flatly.
“And you know how to take care of things, if it does get bad?”
Declan turned and crossed his arms over his chest. He wanted to tell Seb the whole truth of his life and everything he knew about this job. The kid was right to ask about Declan, considering they’d slept in the same bed and that Declan was going to be in his house for the next months. But he also knew that dumping his sob story would be a fast way to freak Seb out.
And something in the back of Declan’s mind was thinking about sleeping in that bed again, and what it felt like when Seb needed him. Selfishly, he didn’t want to let that go.
“I can take care of things,” Declan said. “I grew up hunting, first of all, so I know my way around land like this. And like I told you, I’ve had to fight a fair amount in my life. I’ve worked as a bodyguard, and one of the men I watched over needed some serious protection. On top of all that, I’ve got connections with groups like these Blue Devils, and I know how they operate. I’m confident I can do whatever this job requires.”
It was all true, and Declan was glad to see Seb relax a little more when he shared it, clearly reassured by the experience. Declan would just keep to himself that those previous clients included a mob boss and that, when he worked security, it was often for an underground fight club his family ran in Seattle.
“What else do you know about the gang?” Seb asked.
Declan turned back to the stove, then went to making their plates. He knew Seb was too smart to be kept in the dark, anyway. And so over breakfast, he shared everything else he knew. He explained who the Blue Devils were and the types of activity a group like that would usually get up to. Declan went over different kinds of weapons and explained what he knew about kidnapping a person for ransom, which turned out to be distressingly more than he realized at first. Between chewing on his breakfast and making satisfied murmurs, Seb asked questions and followed up on little details that surprised Declan.
Declan paused, dipped his toast in the last bit of his runny egg, and then nodded at Seb to do the same. Seb tried it out with a smile, then tilted his head to the side. “Wait a second…” He seemed to think carefully for a minute, and Declan grunted a laugh to see the intense concentration on his face, like math equations were flying through his mind.
“So you worked for an organized crime syndicate, is that right?” Seb asked. “Maybe two crime syndicates, actually? It sounds like you stole stuff when you were a teenager and played around with selling marijuana, then switched to being the bodyguard at a fight club before moving on to providing security at illegal poker games and finally for a mob boss?”
Declan coughed on his coffee. “The fuck?”
