Their Property (Four Mercenaries 3)

Maybe he was an old soul, because he’d definitely developed grandpa tastes. All he now needed to complete that picture was a good pair of slippers and a pipe.

The serenity of the afternoon was shattered by Pyro’s voice.

“I don’t fucking care. Look at you, all high and mighty. Try being me for a day, and feeling what I feel, and then we’ll talk,” he shouted before bursting through the door. His hair was undone and hung almost all the way to his waist, providing a rare occasion for Clover to see how long it was when unbraided.

Boar stopped on the threshold, his brows twitching as he followed Pyro with his gaze. “Seriously? I’ve been forced to fight people and animals, and feared death every single time, and you’re saying you have it hard?”

Pyro spread his arms wide, his neck red and bulging with veins. “What is this? The pain Olympics? You know that’s not what I meant!”

Clover attempted to hide behind the rocking chair on the porch but he was still pretty sure Pyro spotted him.

His pallid cheeks flushed, and he pointed at Clover. “What the hell are you looking at? Stop smiling.”

Boar left the house at a languid pace. “Sorry, Clover.”

“Can’t I have a conversation with him without someone trying to censor me?” Pyro asked before rubbing his forehead. “I just wanna go somewhere, so give me the fucking keys. I’m getting cabin fever!”

Clover scowled. The rule to keep Pyro away from stores and people until his drug hunger subsided had been a unanimous decision, but the consequences of Pyro’s anger affected Boar disproportionately, who was intent on helping his lover every step of the way.

Clover got up, eager to support Boar so that he didn’t have to deal with this temper tantrum on his own. “We can go for a walk,” he offered. “Boar could teach us about tracking. Your dad taught you, right?”

Pyro kicked the pile of wood left close to the fire pit. “I don’t want to go for a walk! I want to see other people, not only your stupid faces all day!”

Clover rolled his eyes, but stepped closer. “We can go see stupid deer faces instead.”

Pyro grabbed him by the collar and backed him into the porch railing. “Listen, you brat, I don’t need a toddler telling me what to do!”

Boar jumped right in the middle of it. “Jesus Christ, let go of him!”

Pyro’s eyes were bloodshot, his lips dry, but the grip he had on Clover was as firm as ever. “I want you all to just leave me the fuck alone!”

Clover tightened his hands on Pyro’s wrists, secure enough in Boar’s presence to feel pity rather than fear Pyro’s aggression. “Come on. You don’t really mean that.”

“What the hell’s going on?” Drake asked, emerging from behind the house.

Pyro sneered and reluctantly let go of Clover. “None of your business. Go back to your sulking!”

“I’m sulking?” Drake asked, pulling Clover away from Pyro.

It was a relief to end up under Drake’s arm after that sudden display of aggression. “He doesn’t mean it,” Clover said.

Pyro huffed. “Yes, I do!”

Boar shook his head and stepped closer. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is that if you put your hands on Clover like that again, I’m gonna cuff you to the bed and wait it out. Like last time.”

Drake sneered and tightened his hold on Clover. “He hit you?”

Clover rubbed his face. “No, he’s just hasty and whiny.”

Pyro took a deep inhale and stepped closer but swallowed whatever he wanted to say and only spoke after another few seconds, looking straight into Clover’s eyes. “I… I’m sorry, okay? It’s been a tough time for me.”

Clover felt his shoulders drop, because what was he to say? He knew Pyro wasn’t himself, and he wanted the man he’d fallen in love with back, even if the way there had lots of bumps.

Drake exhaled, staring at Pyro with a severe expression. “You need to get your shit together. Tank’s counting on us to be in shape when it’s time to strike.”

Clover slipped out from under Drake’s arm and got close enough to the rabid wolverine to hug him. This time, Pyro accepted the tenderness and embraced Clover with strong inked arms. He was very hot, as if he were on the verge of a fever.

“It’s going to be okay, but you know there’s no way around it but to wait it out. I love you,” Clover said and kissed Pyro. “Don’t let yourself down.”

Boar snorted. “Clover the Wise has spoken.”

“Shut up,” Clover said in a small voice, but Pyro hugged him even tighter, pushing his face into the crook of Clover’s shoulder and neck.

“Sorry,” he mouthed, but as the embrace continued, Boar’s features relaxed, and he joined the hug.

Clover smiled and stroked Pyro’s back. “It’s okay.”

“You wanna go do some training, Clover, or are you going to sit on the porch with cocoa all day?” Drake asked.