Wheels Up (Out of Uniform 4)

Wes snorted. “My dad will ban y’all from the house, you go trying to bring in that crap. He taught me how to do basic potatoes back before I was even allowed to do the stove on my own.”

“Well, color me impressed.” Dustin nuzzled the back of Wes’s head, wallowing in his scent and nearness. “Dylan can cook some, but it was never something I was that into. Too busy with sports and after-school stuff.”

“Better go rescue the steak.” Wes ducked out of Dustin’s embrace. “Can you drain the potatoes and then I’ll doctor them up while the meat rests?”

“Sure.” The task centered Dustin, made his jangly nerves and cluttered thoughts slow down. It was hard to keep replaying the jump in his head while juggling a pot full of boiling water and the strainer.

Wes came back with a platter of steaming meat and rescued the potatoes from Dustin, dumping in butter, sour cream, and some neatly diced green onions. He clearly knew what he was doing, using the pots and utensils that Dustin’s mom had gifted him far better than Dustin’s few fumbling attempts, and that competence was strangely sexy. As was the flex of his biceps as he mashed it all together.

“You’re pretty amazing.” Dustin wasn’t sure he’d said the words aloud until Wes grinned at him.

“Yes, yes, I am. Now help me carry the plates to your coffee table?” Wes dished up large servings of food. He’d set the coffee table with silverware, water glasses, napkins from Dustin’s last party with friends, and...two tightly rolled ties.

“What’s that?” Dustin pointed.

“That is me still not packing rope.” Wes’s smile was utterly unrepentant. “But I figured we could put the ties my mom made me buy for Sam’s graduation to better use than hanging in my closet. Thought I’d give you a little...incentive to eat fast.”

“You’re awfully damn presumptuous,” Dustin grumbled as he sat next to Wes on the couch. “And I really should get a dining table.”

“You should.” Wes cut his steak into precise bites. The food was amazing—perfectly seasoned, medium-rare meat, tangy salad, and pillowy potatoes—but Dustin was having a hard time focusing on it with those ties on the table.

“So your dad does most of the cooking at your house?” Dustin asked, trying to pace himself and resist the urge to gobble down the food so that they could get on with what Wes had planned.

“Yeah. Mom can cook, but she hates it. Dad reads cookbooks as therapy.” Wes laughed, a tender sound. Dustin’s heart hurt for how much Wes missed his family. “He’s even done some local barbecue contests.”

“Well, he certainly taught you well. Wish...” Dustin trailed off because wishes were dangerous. Wish you could cook for me every night. Wish you could teach me how to grill. Wish you could give me a reason to buy a real dining set. Wish. Wish. Wish. Not happening.

“Me too.” Wes didn’t flinch from the direction of Dustin’s thoughts. Dustin liked that about him, liked how he never ran from this...whatever it was between them that even Dustin himself had a hard time acknowledging. “And if you don’t stop looking so much like our old dog when we didn’t take him with us somewhere, I’m going to blindfold you before we’re done eating even.”

“Blindfold?” Dustin gulped hard enough to need a sip of water.

“Yup.” Wes continued on eating, grin still firmly in place. “Then I’d have to feed you.”

“I’d bite your damn fingers,” Dustin grumbled, mainly because he liked the image too much of sitting, or maybe even kneeling, close to Wes, being slipped little pieces of food...

“You wouldn’t.” Wes’s voice was way too damn smug.

“You think you know me so well?” Dustin speared his steak forcefully. “And why do you always act like it’s... I don’t know, normal or something, the stupid shit that gets me going?”

“Hey. It is normal.” Wes patted Dustin’s leg. “And this is a judgment-free zone. Always. Trust me, it’s equally bizarre that ordering you around gets me off. But there is nothing stupid about liking to submit—it doesn’t make you any less a man or less a SEAL or less anything. You’re one of the strongest people I know. Hell, I don’t have the kind of bravery it takes to give up control—I’m in awe when I get to watch you let go.”

“I guess.” Unsure what to do with the praise, Dustin looked down at his food, skin heating. “Still. Being treated like a...pet or something shouldn’t get me hard. Shouldn’t feel so...”

“Right? Because it is right. And no one ever has to know what things are like between us in private. Here.” Setting his plate aside, Wes reached for one of the ties. “Let me show you?”

Chapter Fifteen

Let me show you. Dustin’s heart clattered like an old washing machine—boom, thud, thud. Wes didn’t wait for Dustin to nod before gently wrapping the tie around his head, firmly covering his eyes, but not so tight as to pinch. “How’s that?”