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“Fine. One hour and then I’m getting up.” Sway said around a full yawn as he toed off his sneakers. He stepped away, still smirking defiantly and pulled his thin blue T-shirt over his head before tossing it across the foot of the bed. With his head down, Sway undid the button on his jeans, those pretty brown eyes peeking up at him shamelessly.
Brian swallowed and locked his spine. I know he’s not about to…
Sway oh so slowly unzipped his pants and began to inch them down his creamy thighs.
Fuck me.
Brian watched but he didn’t move. Sway knew what he was doing; the smugness on his cute face told him so. But, Brian was stronger than any man Sway had met and would ever meet.
“Bed.”
Sway huffed, surprised his strip tease had been ineffective—it hadn’t, but he wouldn’t know that—and climbed onto the bed. When he settled down on the pillow, Brian watched him turn his head and bury his nose in the thickness, then pull it into his chest and hug it like it was his favorite teddy. It was Brian’s pillow. He’d only stood there a few seconds watching like a creeper because the next thing he knew the teasing had ended and Sway was snoring lightly.
He looked as if he belonged there. Brian couldn’t watch any longer. He saw all the possibilities of what could be, but wishing was a dangerous habit. Deep down he knew Sway was meant to be his, he was almost tailor-made for him but how could he convince Sway of the same.
You don’t even know him.
Brian didn’t listen to the devil on the other side reminding him that good things didn’t always happen to good people. Sometimes a happy ending never came no matter how much it was deserved. Instead, he cleaned up the dinner dishes and took out the store-bought tuxedo cheesecake, that Dana said was a favorite of Sway’s, and made sure it was thawed enough.
Once everything was finished, he checked his watch. Sway had only been asleep for thirty minutes. Brian moved slower, he had another hour and a half. There was no way he was going to wake him in an hour; not after the way he’d crashed. Brian went to other end of the house and opened the door to his latest project. He was converting his garage into a wood workshop. Or maybe just a workshop in general. Brian was great with his hands and building was a great way to get out of his head when things got hectic.
He had some ways to go as far as shelves and cabinets, but the conversion was done. He had heat and air, a small bathroom with a sink. He flicked on the hanging light and went to his drafting stand to look over his designs again. Everything was done by hand and on paper just like his father used to do. The old bastard may not have had anything good or encouraging to say to his boys, but he knew how to teach craftsmanship. Brian busied himself with measuring and marking off the large pecan slabs for the top of his bench. He couldn’t turn on the power saw without disturbing his houseguest, so he’d do some busy work for now. He turned on the small stereo he had on top of his tool chest, putting the volume down to where only he could hear it.
He’d been well into his work when a song he recognized came on the radio. He froze with the tape measure in one hand and a pencil in the other as he stared at the small electronic device as if it was torturing him. It was. Stop. Just turn it off. Brian went to move, to place one foot in front of the other but he went down on his left knee hard, landing in sweltering sand. No! No! Brian slammed his eyes shut, crawling on his hands and knees, trying to get to that damn radio. At least he thought he was crawling. He had to turn it off. His head swam, and the corners of his vision went dark. Count. He tried to remind himself, clinging desperately to the present. One, t-two… Brian tried to keep going but the desert came and took him before he could stop it. He swore he swallowed a mouthful of sand and dust, but no matter how he coughed and hacked it wouldn’t clear. Brian gripped his neck. It felt like someone was squeezing his throat.
“Come on King, sing it with me. You know the words,” Jenkins laughed, grabbing Brian around his neck and spinning him around. Brian fought to get out of the hold while he pretended he didn’t love that song too. They didn’t get much downtime but when they did, their lieutenant was quick to try to get them to loosen up and have a good time in the middle of a war zone. They’d gotten orders that they weren’t to move out until the following morning at 0500, so they had the whole evening to themselves. All of them were together, his entire SEAL team and three of the Army’s Delta Force. A Joint Special Operations Unit. They were a force to be reckoned with. But, give them thirteen hours of downtime and they were a bunch of fools. The first thing their LT did was turn on his favorites. Classic rhythm and blues.
