When Boar pulled closer, Clover decided he’d never roll out of bed if he didn’t do it now, which would end up with Tank losing his patience and coming over to get him. As attractive as that sounded, Clover didn’t want to keep his Daddy waiting.
Boar shook his head when Clover rolled over him to get to the floor. “Pyro’s never been one for following rules. Always chasing everything that’s different,” he said, watching Clover with a slight smile. “Hard to say what he sees in me,” he teased, because Boar wasn’t insecure. If he used to be back in the day, Pyro had definitely loved that out of him.
Pyro reached over to pet Bear’s head, but his gaze kept following Clover like a laser dot. “And you are just… can’t stop looking at you.”
Clover put his glasses on and grinned, basking in the heat of adoration that kept hitting him so hard whenever he realized that he’d only traveled with the guys for the past month. It felt like it had been so much longer. Was it the intensity of their connection or the fact that they were such a good fit, he didn’t know, but he’d settled into their unexpected affection like a donut into sizzling oil.
Clover used to resent his albinism in the past, but he’d outgrown that attitude a few years ago. Sometimes, it still hit him with insecurity when a man told him he wasn’t their type, but the attention Pyro showered him with for the exact reason some rejected him for made him grow more confident.
He looked into the mirror, focused on his two lovers, who lazily watched him from the bed. “Oh yeah? What do you like so much? I’ve only got one tattoo.” He pointed to his arm. He didn’t love it anymore. It was the silhouette of a racoon. All of Jerry’s crew had gotten it, since they considered the trash panda their collective spirit animal, and while it had made sense when he was seventeen, the inked picture was now a bitter reminder of how little their bond meant to Jerry.
Boar groaned. “Ass like a peach.”
“You look like an elf,” Pyro added, stretching in the bed, as if he were trying to show that he wasn’t in a hurry to leave. Neither was Clover, but he had to run if he wanted to pretty himself up for his Daddy. After all, he had some explaining to do.
He grabbed a comb out of his bag and sat on the edge of the bed. Boar gave Pyro another peck and rose, taking the comb without Clover having to ask for the favor. Boar brushing his hair was a little ritual they enjoyed.
“I just wish my eyes weren’t all weird,” Clover said softly.
Pyro stretched his muscular tattooed chest and shifted closer, tapping Clover’s chin with his index finger. In the mirror, his eyes remained steady while Clover’s continued the miniscule movements, which made people stare or ask unsolicited questions.
“They’re not weird. They’re just unusual. I guess it sucks you don’t see well without glasses, but that’s not uncommon.” Pyro swallowed, applying just enough pressure to Clover’s face so that he’d look Pyro’s way. The man smiled, showing his large teeth. “I think they’re as beautiful as the rest of you, Clo.”
Clover’s heart fluttered, and he leaned in for a kiss that felt so honest it took his breath away. Pyro could be so filthy, yet so sweet at times. A man of extremes. No wonder he couldn’t be contained by chores and a uniform. “Thank you.”
Boar kissed the back of Clover’s head and returned the comb. “All done.”
For a moment, neither of them moved, creating the prettiest family picture in the mirror, with Boar hugging Clover from the back and Pyro watching him fondly. But there was one person missing. One person who’d surely want to know why he’d had to sleep on his own last night.
Clover eventually left the cabin, and while he wanted to see Tank as soon as possible, he diverted toward the communal showers, wishing to smell nice before he met his Daddy.
He used a herbal mint soap that someone made on the premises, and put on fresh clothes which had been dried in the sunshine. He wasn’t surprised the guys visited this place a few times a year, because in their line of work, relaxation was hard to come by.
High on fresh air and morning cuddles, Clover knocked on Tank’s door in case his man had something important going on. He entered as soon as he heard an invitation, but his smile faltered the moment he saw another familiar face.
Travis sat on Tank’s unmade bed wearing a pair of cut-off shorts and a leather vest over naked skin. His dark hair was tousled, as if he’d just rolled out of the sheets, and Tank’s black boxer shorts looked far too cozy to be guest-appropriate.