“Why are you so keen on firefighting anyway?” Garrick had to admit it seemed like an odd fit for a hippie veggie kid with a love of pink pony shirts.
“When I was in high school there was a fire at our community. Pretty bad one. It made the news and everything. It wasn’t our unit, but we all had to evacuate, and I got to watch the firefighters work for several hours. Seemed like such an adrenaline rush, what they got to do. And they were helping people. They saved most of the buildings. And uh...” Rain looked away, cheeks taking on more color.
“Hot men in uniform?” Garrick was a pretty good guesser. “I’m kinda immune to the uniforms at this point myself, but you’re not going to shock me if you were crushing on the firefighters.”
“Yeah?” Rain’s head tilted as if he was trying to figure Garrick out. And five years ago, Garrick would have let him dangle in the wind, but he was done with closets. He’d seen firsthand how staying quiet had taken too high a toll on more than one friend.
“I’m pan. I mean, I don’t exactly put it on a billboard at work, but I decided a while back that I was getting way too old to sneak around with any of my hookups or to make apologies for who those hookups were with. My best friend and his boyfriend are the two with the trio of dogs I mentioned yesterday. So sure, crush away on the hot firefighters.”
“Okay, yeah, so uniforms did it for me back then. Big time. Camo. Police. Firefighters.” Rain’s tentative grin spread wider the more he talked. “Which is funny because I’m so not about uniforms for myself.” He gestured at his T-shirt, more of that adorable blush sweeping across his face. “And I’ve always liked certain things that society wants to label more femme, but when it comes to attraction...”
“Hey, you don’t have to tell me how weird attraction can be.” Garrick decidedly was not going to confess his own for Rain’s type of person, but he could commiserate without getting skeevy. At least he hoped. Because he wanted Rain to feel comfortable around him, not like he needed to hide any part of himself, but he also didn’t want to be the pervy older dude taking advantage either.
“I know.” Groaning, Rain took another long swig of coffee. “My brothers think it’s hilarious, my thing for hypermasculine-presenting persons. Anyway, I know that those sort of crushes were part of it when I was younger. But the adrenaline and being outdoors and helping people—that’s kept me interested through the classes. I’m not cut out for a cubicle.”
“Good. But uh...that whole uniform thing? If you get on with one of the seasonal forest service jobs or something, it will probably come with a dress code.”
“As long as they aren’t dictating my off-duty wear, I’ll be fine. And if I start feeling really stifled, I’ll just have fun with what’s under the uniform.” Rain’s sly smile was a wicked, wicked thing.
“Yeah.” Garrick barely got the word out, sputtering through his next sip of coffee, trying to shake the image of Rain in sexy underthings out of his brain and failing miserably. Damn. He needed to remind Rain about locker rooms and small-minded people and safety concerns with nonstandard attire, but hell if he could get two words together around the visions dancing in his head. They needed to find this dog a new home and fast. Garrick’s sanity demanded it.
* * *
The shirt had been a test. Rain could admit that, especially to himself. And to Cookie, who had zero judgment as they plodded along in an evening walk. But it wasn’t like some sneaky, malicious thing either. More like he’d been about to get dressed that morning, and his hand had hovered over his jeans a fraction too long. He’d wanted to wear his silver shorts. And this shirt. He’d been in the mood to smile over matching color schemes with Cookie’s collar. But then there had been that moment of hesitation. Remembering, he sped up his steps, even his feet impatient with himself.
It was all because he’d had such a good time the day before with Garrick and Cookie. He’d hung around far longer than he’d needed to, teaching her to fetch and doing random tasks for Garrick like emptying the trash so she wouldn’t raid it. Not that hanging out with Grandma wasn’t fun, but he could listen to Garrick’s stories of dogs he had growing up for hours, not to mention the parts about his job that he slipped in as well. And that was exactly why he made himself grab the shirt and shorts. Because jeans and some other less-pink shirt would have been temporarily easier, but it wouldn’t have been him. He knew himself, knew who he needed to be to be truly happy, and if they were going to be friends, Garrick needed to see that self, all of it.