All Over The Road - 1. All Over The Road

Officer Blake Alston took the left turn out of town and began to head along the back road, which looped around the outskirts, at a crawl. It was after midnight on a Saturday, the last bar in town had closed, and all was quiet but for the sound of crickets and bullfrogs. His shift was done. The deputy figured he would drive once around the outskirts just to check, and go on home. There wouldn’t be anyone there and the bed wouldn’t be warm, but the big double bed was better than the seat of his car.

No such fucking luck.

There was a truck, a Chevy of fairly vintage standards and probably blue under all the red dust and dirt, and it was swerving. Not gently either. The big vehicle lurched from one side of the road to the other, as though the driver was either drunk out of his skull or also trying to fend off a mad, rabid cat. It wasn’t going very fast, and when Blake hit the button for the lights and flashed the truck, it went a little bit left, a little bit right, and squealed to a halt with a rather painful crunching noise. Sighing to himself, Blake Alston took his note pad and got out of his car, leaving the door open and the engine and lights on.

He straightened his shirt as he walked up to the side of the big Chevy. Deputy Blake Alston was not a small man, six five with broad shoulders and big arms. His father had always thought it sad his youngest son hadn’t decided to join the marines like everyone else in the family but had gone off to be a cop instead. It was more disappointing that he’d chosen to be the only gay cop in a little nothin’ town like this one.

“License and registration.” He half barked, half sighed as he reached the rolled down window of the truck. At least it was fairly warm out and it wasn’t raining. He shone the flash light into the truck and made out a pretty and very drunk and messy blond girl in her early twenties and a boy, no, a young man, with a lovely sort of home grown small town look who was currently turning a particularly attractive shade of pink. Blake rolled his eyes, “License and registration.” He said again. And will somebody please try and teach these kids third base and driving are two things that do not mix.

“I’m so sorry…” The boy started, but Blake sighed and flipped the driver’s card over in his hand.

“You been drinking Mr. Carmichael?” Blake looked past the young man to the girl who was even now giggling to herself, her skirt bunched up around her hips. She reeked of alcohol, “You two getting a bit frisky on the ride home?”

Axel Carmichael turned very red.

“N-n-n-n-no sir!” His tone was not only hot with denial, but almost angry too, “I haven’t even had one drink.”

“And you miss?”

“Me officer?” The girl knelt up on the seat and leant over Axel to place her forearms on the door of the truck, showing off a rather large amount of cleavage, “I just wanted to have some fun.”

Axel looked like he would rather be dead than be in the truck with her.

“Is that right? She your date Mr. Carmichael?”

“NO!”

The girl reached out and tried to run her finger over Blake’s shirt in what she obviously thought was a sexy and provocative manner.

“Miss, are you trying to seduce an officer of the law?” Blake snarled. The girl fell back into her seat with a huff and crossed her arms over her breasts. “You wanna tell me what’s going on here?”

“She was my friend Brad’s date,” Axel Carmichael looked sullen, “We went out and he invited her, then got distracted by some other girl and left me to take her home. She’s drunk,” Blake forgave the kid for stating the obvious, “And she won’t keep her hands to herself. I think she was expecting me to take her home and make up for her lack of time spent with Brad.” Axel looked utterly dejected. Obviously his Saturday night hadn’t quite gone to plan either.

“Look kid,” Blake handed the boy’s license over, “You go on home, I’ll take the little miss with me, put her in the back where she can’t try and make you wreck your truck. Alright?”

“I wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble sir,” Axel bit his lower lip, and Blake was forced to notice how handsome the boy was, how lovely his firm square jaw and soft lips. He mentally shook himself down.

“No hassle,” Blake walked around to the other side of the truck and helped the young woman down, “Do you know where she lives?”

“Ten Tree Hill. Brad said it was the white house with the big front porch and the apple tree.”

“Alright then. You get on home now kid.” Blake took the girl’s arm and stowed her with some complaint in the back of his car, behind the dividing mesh. He was surprised to turn and find Axel Carmichael’s old vintage truck still beside the road. He got into the squad car and pulled up next to the truck.

“You alright kid?”

Axel grinned, like he might lose his nerve for whatever he was about to say.

“I’m twenty three. Don’t call me kid. Goodnight Officer Alston.”

Blake watched the truck drive away and wondered if Axel Carmichael knew, either through gossip or gaydar, Blake wondered if he knew. The fantasy of Axel being gay was going to keep him busy for an hour or so later that night after he’d dropped the girl off. Blake sighed, pulled the squad car away, and wondered if or when he’d ever meet a man who was actually right for him.

*

Another Saturday night in the ass-end of nowhere, another evening spent rounding up drunks and strays. High school kids trying to scam the nice old black guy who ran the liquor store. One case of DV which had needed a firm hand and a strong word and the threat of a night in the cells; the woman denied she’d been hit, the bruise already blossoming around her eye. Blake hoped she would take karate classes and kick the hell out of her husband to serve him a lesson. Generally, it was a quiet sort of night, and Blake had managed to avoid the graveyard shift and began to wind up and head towards his empty house around nine pm. He went home the back way, so the next guy on the shift wouldn’t have to start by doing the route, and that was when he saw the truck.

The truck indicated right, but lurched sharply to the left. The horn blared, the brake lights flashed. He realised it was Axel Carmichael’s Chevy just as it took another great lurch, and stalled. Blake Alston gritted his teeth. He hadn’t banked on the kid being trouble, and hadn’t banked on running into him again. Over the last two weeks Axel had played a starring role in his late night fantasies, joining a cast and crew of pretty faces and anonymous hard-ons. The last time he’d thought of Axel the young man had been naked and sucking Blake off with a rather fetching expression in his big green eyes.

Realising he was going to have to deal with this regardless of how embarrassing it might be, the deputy turned on the lights, reminded himself Axel Carmichael could not actually see inside his head, and straightened his shirt and jacket as he got out of the car. It was much colder this evening, and he was glad of the sheepskin collar against his stubbled cheek.

“License and registration.”

“Hello Officer Alston,” Axel smiled in a decidedly sheepish manner as he handed over the paperwork, “I’m sorry.”

Blake didn’t need his torch, because with the truck stalled the interior light was on. Axel looked no different than he had before, maybe a bit more tense across the shoulders in his red and black checked shirt. His fist rested on the top of the wheel. The girl in the passenger seat had long glossy black hair, perfect make up and a scowl like a harpy. It was not attractive, even if you were into that.

“What seems to be the problem?” Blake handed back the man’s driver’s license without even the standard cursory glance, “Looked like you were having a bit of an issue with your steering there.”

“I was doing just fine,” Axel rubbed a hand through his untidy sand coloured hair, “I’m supposed to be taking her home, but she doesn’t wanna go.”

“Like I wanna be driven home at nine o’clock!” The girl’s voice was a screech, “Why won’t you take me dancing?”

“Is she your date?” Blake sighed. The drama of people he still considered to be kids, even though Axel was only seven years his junior, was not what he wanted to deal with at the end of his shift. He wanted to go home, stick some leftovers in the microwave, or maybe not even that, pop open a beer and settle down in front of the TV.

“No. She was Brad’s date.”

“And he tried to fob me off on his dull-as-shit friend,” The girl rolled her eyes, “Who is apparently blind even to direct suggestion.”

“Huh?”

“He says I’m not his type.” The girl flicked her hair. She obviously believed she was everyone’s type. Blake felt his cock lurch at the idea of Axel not being interested in an available girl.

“Ma’am, you have two choices as far as I see it,” Blake put on his authoritative tone, “You can let this nice young gentleman drive you home, call up some of your other friends and make other plans…”

“Or?” She glared at him.

“Or I can arrest you for wilful intent to disrupt the driver of a motor vehicle and I can drive you to the station. How’d that be?”

The girl fell back into her seat, grabbed her phone from her incredibly small purse and began to text furiously.

“Thanks Officer.” Axel smiled at him, a genuine grin of relief and appreciation.

“How come you keep ending up with Brad’s dates? Something you’re not telling me?”

“He gets bored easy.” Axel shrugged. Blake wondered how he hadn’t noticed the young man’s shoulders were so broad and delicious.

“And you’re happy to pick up his cast offs and spend your evenings driving them home?” Blake raised a suspicious eyebrow.

“I’m his best friend,” Axel said the words in the wistful way other people would say ‘lover’, “What else am I gonna do?” He smiled, nodded to Blake, and pulled the truck away.

*

Saturday night, graveyard shift at nearly two in the morning, Blake wasn’t surprised to see the big vintage Chevy on the back roads. He was surprised to find it was parked, and the lights were off. Blake Alston had spent a lot of his free time thinking about Axel Carmichael, but seeing the truck pulled over in the gloom of the rather un-romantically foggy and damp night, he figured he had been wrong. Now he was going to have the thankless task of interrupting the young stud and some girl in their early morning lovin’ and send them on their way. Axel would blush in a delicious manner, and Blake’s mental image of him as a young, hot and obviously totally unavailable lover would be complete. He sighed, and zipped up his jacket as he approached the truck.

The window was up, and it was dark in the cab. Deputy Sheriff Alston tapped on the window with the butt of his flashlight, steeling himself for the moment when he was going to have to knock on the back door and probably open it to find a blushing Axel and some half-dressed girl with a lace bra and no panties. To his surprise, the window rolled down in the close textured night and Axel Carmichael smiled gently at him, starting to hand over papers that Blake waved away. Blake frowned, and peered around where Axel sat, relaxing on the big bench seat.

There was another young man, same age as Axel but with a much more polished sort of look about him, tucked into the corner of the door and bench seat, sleeping soundly. He was handsome in his own way, and Blake could imagine him being a hit with the ladies; he expected those slack lips had a great cocky smile to them.

“That’d be Brad I assume?”

“Yeah. His first date bailed and the two other girls he called sorta found out about each other when they arrived at the bar.”

“So you got him drunk?” Blake raised an eyebrow.

“No!” Axel’s whisper was still emphatic, “He did that all by himself and even tried to drive home. I had to steal his keys.” Axel looked rueful, “I ended up throwing them in the dumpster behind Denny’s because he tried to get them off me. He’s stronger than he looks.”

Blake glanced from the passed out sleeping figure of Brad back at the kid in the driver’s seat, and something became abundantly clear to the deputy sheriff.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Axel blanched and blushed at near enough the same time, bit his lower lip and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Blake shook his head softly, knowing what the actions meant. He gave neither hot denial nor nodded confirmation. Axel was in love with a straight boy, and by the sounds of it, a very straight boy. Blake had experience enough to teach him situations like this rarely ended well.

“It’s obvious isn’t it?” The young man sounded totally dejected, a kicked puppy. “Do you think he knows?”

Blake considered this.

“Probably not. Call it wilful ignorance. When you look at him like that, well, it’s easy for me to tell; I’ve been where you are, I know it sucks kid.”

“Don’t call me kid.” Axel crossed his arms over his chest, then uncrossed them, picking at his cuticles. “What do you think I should do?”

Come home with me and let me screw you senseless? Blake shook himself and bit back the words. The young man was good looking, clean cut, totally his type. Totally head over heels with his best friend… Nothing good could possibly come of the situation.

“Have you ever told him?”

“No! He’d kill me. He hates fag- I mean, guys like me.”

“Guys like us.” Blake clarified. “You either have to tell him, and move on. Or don’t tell him, and move on. Sitting in your car at night, watching the guy sleep, boarders on the creepy stalker sort of behaviour that gives guys like us a bad name.”

“But how can I move on when I love him?” Axel turned to him with shining eyes, “He’s my oldest friend, the greatest guy I know.”

The deputy shook his head, because there wasn’t a great answer.

The figure of Brad shifted and murmured sleepily.

“It’s not ‘is fault. He’s young, high spirits…” And fell into unintelligible mumbling punctuated by a snore loud as a sawmill.

“Remind me what you see in him?” Blake Alston grinned softly, shaking his head. He tapped on the side of the truck with the flash light and turned back to the squad car, eager to be heading home.

“What did you do?”

Blake turned at the desperation in the boy’s voice, found him half hanging out of the truck, his eyes wide and shining in the gloom. Blake pulled his jacket tighter about himself.

“Me? I went home with a beautiful gorgeous gay guy and fucked him until I couldn’t see straight. That helped.”

Axel Carmichael gaped like a startled fish and Blake smiled to himself, got in the semi-warmth of the car and drove home. The boy’s clear and obvious love for his friend did not mean he played any less than a starring role in Blake’s fantasy.

*

For about two minutes, Blake wondered if he should stop, but knew he had to. He was on duty for the last of his six weeks doing weekends and nights. It wasn’t surprising he was cruising the back roads a little closer to the centre of town. There, at eleven o’clock, was Axel Carmichael’s truck. The truck veered to the left, then the right, and screeched to a halt. Blake Alston was pulling up behind the truck when he saw Axel leap out of the front seat, whip around to the other side and yank the door open, catching the skinny little girl who half fell from the vintage Chevy and threw up all down his shirt front.

Deputy Alston killed the engine in the squad car and left it at the side of the road. He dashed over to Axel and the stricken, still puking party-girl.

“Aww fuck!” Whatever rules Axel Carmichael had once been taught about how to behave and talk in front of woman were long gone, “Jesus-!” The girl heaved again, and in an effort to hold her hair out of the way Axel ended up with more odd-coloured vomit and bile on his hands and the toes of his boots. “Damn you Brad!”

“Having a good Saturday night are you?” Blake leant against the Chevy with one elbow.

“Aww you can fuck off too- Officer Alston!” Axel’s brain caught up with his mouth, “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s OK kid,” Blake kept his distance while the girl spat bile, obviously coming to the end of her digestive systems ability to reverse itself. “Another of Brad’s dates I assume?”

“He got her pissed,” Axel seemed to take perverse pride in stating the fucking obvious, “Took her to the bathrooms and when he came back said I could have his sloppy seconds. Then she downed about eight more shots and I had to take her home because Brad was off screwing some girl who’d come down from State with her friends for the weekend.”

“Not the recipe for a happy evening.” Blake felt his heart go out to the young man who was so loyal to his friend he obviously couldn’t see that he’d turned into a doormat.

“Oh Brad’s plenty happy,” Axel leant the girl against his truck and looked down at his shirt and hands. “Fuck that’s disgusting. It’s just me, as usual, wasting my time picking up after him. I can’t remember the last time my weekend wasn’t a disaster.”

Axel stripped off his shirt and threw it into the back of the truck with a wet slap. He fished around in the pick-up and came back with a bit of old sheeting that had at some point been used for painting and rubbed his hands as best he could. Blake stared.

It didn’t matter Axel was younger than him, didn’t matter he was in love with another man, didn’t matter than they were on the side of the road in a layby smelling of acrid vomit and alcohol, because the sight of him half naked had made Blake’s cock twitch and jump and beg him for something more than the attention of his hand.

“I think I have a spare shirt in the car.” Blake was almost relieved by the opportunity not to look at Axel’s sculpted chest. Fuck, had it really been that long since he’d gotten lucky? Blake managed to count seven months off in his head and scowled. He fished out a spare shirt, nothing fancy, a standard Deputy tee and handed it over to Axel. They both looked at the girl.

“I gotta get her home.”

“You take her back like this and her momma is gonna rip you into shreds no matter what you tell her. I’ll take her.”

“But…”

“It’s OK.”

“I can’t go home looking like this. I smell.”

“Go to mine,” The words were out of his mouth before Blake could stop them. “Go over to my house, you can have a shower, get a bite to eat.” Blake held up his hands, “Nothing implied kid.”

“Don’t call me kid.” Suddenly Blake was aware how close Axel was standing to him, noticed the heat radiating from his body. “What if… I dunno. What if I wanted…” Axel Carmichael seemed to be having trouble finding his words. “Maybe if something did happen, like you said…”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“I love Brad, and I know it’s not fair on you but,” There was no mistaking the heat in Axel’s green eyes, “I want you. Is that OK?”

“More than OK,” Blake knew there was no way this was going to end well, “I understand. He’s your friend.” He took a step closer to the young man with the wide eyes, “I won’t even mind if you say his name when you come.”

Axel was breathing hard, his pupils dilated and huge and Blake could feel his own erection burning in his pants. He had to cool down. He still had to take the drunk girl home first.

No, he wouldn’t mind if Axel called out another guy’s name, but he was going to do his damnedest to make sure it didn’t happen.

*

Officer Blake Alston sat in his squad car in his driveway with the engine off and stared at his house. It was nothing special, a little two room pre-fab with a porch big enough for one wicker dining chair and a patch of red dust and grass the size of a postage stamp. There was a light on in his bedroom, and it was the first time in years there had been anyone home to greet him. Not since the first and last time his parents had come out to visit. Axel Carmichael was in his bedroom, and that scared him just a little bit.

Nothing good could come of this. The young man was infatuated with his straight best friend, and if, no when, he talked, Blake would probably have to move to a new town. He wasn’t openly gay, but he wasn’t fully in the closet either. He’d never dated anyone from near where he lived. This could only go wrong.

You’ll get in there, and he’ll have changed his mind, He thought as he got out of the car. The worst that’s going to happen to you is a severe case of blue balls.

“Hello?” Apart from the little glow from the bedside lamp, the rest of the house was dark. Blake dropped his keys out of habit and hung his jacket on the hook in the hallway. He placed his sidearm on the little table in the hall. No one could accuse him of being either overly messy nor obsessively neat.

There was a muffled ‘in here’ and Blake toed off his shoes as he walked into the bedroom to find Axel Carmichael wrapped in a towel, with another draped over his head, scrubbing at his hair. The sight of his lean, strong naked torso dipping into the low slung towel made Blake’s cock twitch again in his pants. He coughed.

“Your shower is like heaven,” Axel dragged the towel off his head and ran his fingers through his hair and pushed it out of his face, “You have it specially installed or something?”

“Y-yeah,” Blake cursed himself for feeling in the least bit shy, “I like the water pressure. You find everything you wanted?”

“Yes. Thanks Officer…” Now it was Axel’s turn to look scared.

“Blake.” The Deputy held out his hand, “I suppose we’ve never actually introduced ourselves have we?”

“Momma would be pissed about that.” Axel gave a rueful smile and shook his hand, “Course momma would be pissed about the fact I’m here… with you.”

There it was, the boy had changed his mind.

“I won’t hold it against you. You’re free to go.”

“You’re kicking me out?” Axel’s face paled.

“No. Sorry.” Blake could have kicked himself. The boy was like a deer in headlights, “Look, you want a beer or something?”

“Yes.” Axel was firm and decisive, “Beer would be good.”

They ended up on the sofa with a beer each and the highlights from the latest PBR invitational weekend on the TV. Blake had done his teeth and had a ten second wash before changing into jeans and a sweater. Axel sat on the other end of the two seat couch in the towel, with the other draped over his shoulders as his hair dried in a rather attractive natural wave. The young man picked and peeled at the label of his beer bottle, and he seemed so nervous Blake worried if he approached the figure he was still struggling not to think of as a kid for all that he was a mature adult, Axel would bolt and run like a stray dog petted too soon.

Blake drank his beer and went for the old standby, a move long practised around the globe. He stretched, rolled his shoulders, and laid his arm along the back of the sofa. To his surprise, it only took a moment for Axel to shift his weight and lean back so Blake’s hand rested on the towel over his shoulders. There was a long silence during which time half a dozen cowboys tried to take their bull’s to the eight second siren. Blake wouldn’t have been able to tell anyone who asked how many of them had made it.

“I’m scared.” Axel’s voice was whisper quiet between the muted commercials, “I’m scared if I look at you, or do anything, I’m going to screw this up. And I feel,” He waved a hand over his tight ribbed stomach, “Nervous. Guilty.”

“You don’t need to be nervous,” Blake smiled, and rubbed his thumb in little circles against Axel’s collarbone, “I don’t want you to feel guilty.”

The blond green eyed boy turned to look at him, half a smile on his lips and his cheeks touched with pink.

“But what if I’m awful at it Blake?” Axel bit his lower lip, and Blake was struck again by the squareness of his jaw. The delightful blush started to spread down his strong neck.

It was late, and Blake was too tired and way too horny to keep his distance any longer. He brought one leg up onto the sofa, half kneeling, turned to Axel and wrapped his hand around the back of the boy’s neck. He brushed the towel off his shoulders with the other hand and moved forwards to close the distance between them. Axel Carmichael groaned and shuddered underneath him, but his hands clutched at the front of Blake’s sweater, neither holding him back nor dragging him in. Blake took the boy’s chin in his hand and smiled at him.

“I’m betting my evening you’re gonna be great. And I don’t lose my bets.”

Emboldened, Axel reached out and the final few inches vanished as their lips touched. Once that first barrier was broken, Axel seemed to melt, pulling Blake down on top of him, all at once boneless and hard as stone, moaning as Blake effectively knocked away all of his defences. Axel tasted like sour apple candy and smelt of Blake’s shampoo, and the older man hadn’t realised the idea of the boy being in his house, wrapped in his towel and using his shampoo would be such a turn on. Blake allowed his hand free rein over Axel’s chest and stomach, dragging short nails over his ribs as he kissed the boy with seven months of pent up passion.

Blake’s erection was making itself known to both of them, and after a kiss which seemed to last several long minutes, Axel realised his towel was hiding absolutely nothing at all. He blushed crimson and Blake let out a gasp that was also a laugh as he looked down.

“Oh boy! You ain’t got nothin’ to be embarrassed about.” Blake grinned in a smug manner. It was true he didn’t often lose bets, and the seven plus inches of swollen dusky pink flesh were doing nothing to dissuade him of his supposition about Axel Carmichael, “How about I take care of that for you?”

“Um…”Axel’s green eyes were huge, his hand gripped the back edge of the sofa with tension running up his arm, “I…”

“We can stop…” Blake offered, running the pad of his forefinger up the exposed underside of Axel’s cock.

“Fffffuck… No!” Axel managed to pull the deputy back against his chest and brought their mouths together for another crushing, oxygen depriving kiss. Blake took it as invitation enough, and wrapped his hand firmly around Axel’s throbbing dick. The boy gasped into his mouth and the hand which had worked under his sweater gripped him almost painfully.

“Whoa buddy, slow down there.”

“Me slow down?” Axel’s eyes burnt with green fire, “If you don’t slow down this things gonna be over afore we even get it started.” There was a long moment where each of them took several long slow breaths. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

Blake kissed him, much more tenderly this time, and was pleased to find the young man responding under his touch. He pecked a line of little kisses down Axel’s collarbone to the hollow of his throat making the boy groan.

“You like that huh?”

“Oh sweet Jesus…”

Blake grinned, and decided not only was he wearing too many clothes, but also the bed deserved to see some better action than his hand after being empty for so long. He pulled Axel up with him with his hands on the young man’s hips.

“Come to bed with me,” Blake punctuated his sentence with kisses as Axel’s hands found the front of his trousers. “Let me show you a real good time.”

Axel nodded, and went with him.

When Blake entered him, Axel sobbed the name of the man he loved, but by the time Blake had built enough pleasure between the two of them for their shared orgasm, the only name on Axel’s lips was Blake’s.

*

A small town on a Saturday night; by rights, Blake should have been home, curled up on the sofa watching Bushwhacker make or break another cowboy’s dreams. But he wasn’t. He was in his squad car, crawling through town and keeping the peace. His first Saturday night off in weeks, and some other little dipshit pulled a sickie and Deputy Blake Alston had to step in and save the day. Not that anyone ever thanked him.

He hadn’t seen Axel Carmichael since the moment when he’d kissed the boy in the very small hours of Sunday morning before waving him off from the porch as the kid drove off in his vintage Chevy. He’d thought about him a lot, seen him naked in his head plenty, but there had been no opportunity to run into the young man with the green eyes and the work rough body. Screwing Axel Carmichael had been absolutely fucking fantastic. Blake knew it wasn’t the seven months dry which made him think that. They had fit together like bits of a jigsaw becoming aligned, and it had been amazing, excellent, stupendous and a thousand other hyperbole’s that didn’t live up to the earth shattering sex they’d spent several hours having. Fucking and coming down, dozing, kissing and screwing all over again until they were exhausted. Blake didn’t think he’d ever slept quite so well in his life.

It was not that he ever expected a repeat performance. Axel was in love with another guy, one who would probably never love him back, might even hate him if he found out, and Blake knew their night of passion had been no more than a quick fix and a release of pressure to stop either of them going off like a tin can in the sun. Blake had one on and off lover who would spend the night when he passed through town, heading to other more exciting places, and he was glad of the company Axel had brought into his house, the warmth in his bed. But it wasn’t like there was any hope of a relationship. Now he simply had to pray Axel never told anyone about what had happened, because Blake didn’t fancy moving again.

It was well past midnight, the night long enough over Blake could think about heading home, and out of habit he took the back road to find a beat up vintage Chevy swerving across both lanes like a wandering duck. The screech of brakes, the crunch of tyres on the dirt, the Chevy veered dangerously near the ditch at the side of the road. Blake hit the sirens and the lights, flashed the truck and pulled up close behind it. The ancient machine ground to a halt, and stalled. Blake Alston wasted no time in killing the sirens and leaping out to the driver’s door.

Axel clearly drunk and smelling like the inside of a distillery, his shirt front stained with alcohol and the dark splotches of blood. There was a cut above his eye, still dripping, a bruise blooming like a sadistic flower lower down his cheekbone.

“What the fuck do you think you were doing?” Blake had shouted at the boy before he remembered he was supposed to be on duty. “You’re drunk.”

“Course ‘m fuckin’ drunk,” Axel slurred when he spoke, but his tone was angry, “Face hurts like fuck…”

“What happened?” Blake had the door of the truck open, his hand on Axel’s shoulder. He fumbled for the keys in the ignition.

“What the fuck?” Axel tried to push him away, but Blake stuffed the keys in his pocket, “This is all your fault anyway!”

Blake exhaled, already having half an idea where this was going.

“You came along an’ fucked everything up!” Axel rambled and shouted in the way of drunken people everywhere, “S’all your fault, you bastard!” Axel’s hands were in the front of his jacket, and he was half falling out of the truck, “I hate that bastard,” A snivel, and the shouts were turning to sobs, “I wish I’d never, never…”

Blake took a step back as Axel fell forwards and threw up onto the damp ground. He left the young man on all fours by the side of the road upchucking and returned to his car. There he found a blanket, radioed in the position of the vintage Chevy so no one would panic to see it there in the morning, and got a bottle of water out of the glove box. He returned to find Axel Carmichael trying to get back in the truck.

“Oh no you don’t,” He pulled the young man with the broad shoulders back against his chest, bringing back week old memories of another time he’d had Axel flush against him. “You ain’t driving anywhere bucko. Come on, drink up.”

Axel was strong, and surprisingly heavy, and it took a while to get him to drink something, whereupon he promptly threw up again. Blake stripped him of his shirt and wrapped him in the blanket. It was cold out. He stowed the boy in the back of the squad car, and drove home very carefully indeed.

Getting Axel to take a shower by himself turned out to be a thankless task when Blake arrived home to find the boy basically passed out in the car. He ended up ninety percent naked under the water with the boy, who woke up enough to shiver and mumble incoherently, grimacing and snarling when Blake washed the gash above his eye. It had largely stopped bleeding. A small dressing from the medicine cupboard, and at least partly dry, Blake put his guest to bed in the surety there was nothing left in his system for him to throw up.

Standing in his rather sparse kitchen, Blake Alston wondered what he should do. Axel was naked in his bed, passed out or sleeping, clean and damp. Blake wanted nothing more than to crawl in there with him and fall asleep next to a warm body. But Axel Carmichael had been injured, bleeding, and from the darkness of the bruise on his face, it was not a fight he had got into once he was pissed, but much more like one than he was trying to drown himself in order to forget about. Blake spent thirty seconds being red-hot angry at whichever bartender had kept on pouring the kid drinks in his state and let him get in the truck. He could have easily ended up off the road in the creek ditch somewhere, or killed, or hit someone.

Whatever had happened to him had apparently been Blake’s fault, but since he was calling someone who wasn’t there a bastard too, Blake didn’t hold much faith in that. He glanced at the sofa and his neck twinged in remembered agony of the last time he’d fallen asleep on the couch. No way. It wasn’t as if he’d never been naked in bed with the young man before. Blake decided to go with it. He changed into a pair of loose sweatpants, brushed his teeth, and slipped into the bed behind Axel’s body. The boy murmured something sleepily, and then Blake was shocked to find his hand trapped in Axel’s own, the blond man pulling him up against his back and snuggling into his warmth. Blake smiled, wrapped himself tight around the man in his bed, and fell asleep.

He woke as the sun crept in through a crack in the blind, aware that Axel’s breathing in his arms was slightly irregular, and he knew the boy was awake. Blake stretched the muscles in his jaw and rubbed Axel’s forearm with his own.

“Hi…” It seemed like all Axel was going to say for a long time until he took a deep shuddering breath, “T-thank you.”

“Dare I ask why you were driving your truck drunk out of your skull and bleeding from your face?” Blake took the opportunity to hug the boy tight to his chest, just for a moment. Axel made no move to get away from him, and it was nice to wake up with someone in his bed for the first time in much, much too long.

Axel groaned.

“You pulled me over? Fuck…” He slipped a hand out from under the blankets to cover his face then yelped, “Holy cow that hurts.” Axel began to probe the swollen bruise around his eye with careful fingers, “I don’t remember leaving the bar. I drove?”

“Yeah. You nearly killed yourself.”

Axel twisted around without moving away, and Blake remembered how beautiful he was, and saw afresh how badly his face was injured. The cut was dark with clotted blood under the white steri-strips and the bruise was purple and black, the rough size of a big man’s fist. Blake reached out and brushed his thumb across Axel’s lower lip. The cheek which wasn’t bruised coloured pink.

“Thank you,” He took Blake’s hand and pulled the older man’s knuckles to his chest, “I’m sorry.”

“You wanna start with how you ended up bleeding?”

Axel bit his lip, his eyes fluttering closed.

“I told Brad. T-that I was gay… and I l-loved him.”

“Ah…” Blake sighed. He remembered when he’d told his father, the blazing row they’d had which had come to the front door hanging off its hinges and Blake wrecking his eldest brother’s car because he’d been crying so hard he’d missed the only bend in the road for ten miles. As angry and upset as they’d both been, it hadn’t come to blows. “He hit you?”

“Yeah, twice.” Axel touched the gash above his eye, “Stupid bastard still insists on wearing his fucking high school ring.

“You want me to charge him with assault?” Blake smiled softly, because even though he could, he wanted it to sound slightly like a joke. Axel screwed his eyes shut, and the hand that gripped his clenched.

“He hates me.” There was nothing Blake could say, so he didn’t say anything. He settled his hand over the curls of Axel’s hair and stroked him gently, “He hates me. He made it pretty fucking clear too,” Axel hid his face in his hands, resting the crown of his head against Blake’s bare chest, curled up against him, “He’s my best friend. He was my best friend.” The young man sniffled, “He’s gonna tell everyone and ruin my life.”

“Hush now,” Blake took Axel’s chin, and raised the boy’s head to look at him, “You can’t let one bigot ruin your life, no matter how much you care about him. You’re a strong, beautiful young man who can kiss like a fire brand. You’ll be fine.”

“I’m not beautiful,” Axel scoffed, “At least, not from the left side eh?” He managed a little smile.

“There, that’s the spirit.” Blake grinned back. His morning erection had flagged rather in the wake of Axel’s upset, but the sexy little smile had awakened him again. Blake tried to remind his crotch of the dangers of being mostly naked in bed with a slightly fragile and recently out, or outed, gay man, and the general potential hazards this sort of thing held. His cock didn’t listen one bit.

Axel took that moment to look down at himself.

“I’m naked.”

“Well yeah, you kinda threw up a lot.”

“Oh that’s attractive,” It was almost possible to see the gears turning in his mind, “You put me in the shower? And after all my complaining at you calling me kid.”

“I don’t mind.” Blake replied. No, he didn’t mind when Axel half dragged the blankets down to look at himself, exposing a frankly lovely example of morning wood. Blake licked his lips unconsciously.

“I must have ruined your night,” Axel looked up at him through thick eyelashes, “And I can’t eat all your breakfast without repaying you.”

“You’re staying for breakfast this time?” Blake arched an eyebrow is surprise, a little bit of delight curling out from his heart. It was a tricky feeling, because wanting company was human nature, but Blake knew if he let himself, things could go very badly wrong here. Another broken heart might kill him six months down the line. Axel hooked one finger into the waistband of his sweats and smiled wickedly. “You’re sure?”

“Will you kiss me already?” Axel’s hand around his waist pulled Blake in close, until the shared heat of their erections was all either of them could think about. Blake knew as he kissed the boy there was no way this was a healthy or sensible way to start something, but that thought was a really long way behind the idea of how good fucking Axel had been first time around, and it wasn’t catching up.

*

It was Saturday night, but it wasn’t late, the sky still showing signs the sun had indeed been about at some point, if not visible, and Deputy Sheriff Blake Alston watched the beat up vintage Chevy truck swerve to the left before the driver turned decisively right and parked in his driveway. He folded his arms as he watched Axel Carmichael climb out of the cab, walk around to the back and haul several bags of groceries out with him. He frowned.

It was his first Saturday off in over a month, a fact he’d casually let slip the previous Sunday as they’d eaten bland toast and coffee, which had turned out to be all Blake actually had that hadn’t gone very out of date or wasn’t totally frozen and lodged into the fabric of the ice box. Axel had called by the station mid-week, a fact which had the gossip mill churning before the boy had even left, and they’d chatted for a sort of awkward three minutes on the forecourt in the pale sunlight. Blake had said he wanted to see him again, and Axel had mentioned Saturday, but they’d never arranged… anything. Certainly not this. He went and opened the front door for his slightly unexpected guest.

Axel dumped an overflowing brown bag of groceries into his arms.

“Hey!”

“Hi…” Blake wished he didn’t sound and feel so reserved, but he could feel his heart quicken, just a little bit, and it wasn’t only because he knew what Axel’s soft lips looked like wrapped around his cock.

“I was gonna call you, but then I realised I didn’t have your number.” Axel was unpacking the shopping onto the surface, “And you have no food.”

“I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself.” Blake huffed, the last time his kitchen had looked this busy was when his mother had come to visit and stock him up, made two dozen meals to go in the freezer and left him with instructions of how to make more. He never had, pizza was too damn easy.

Axel rolled his eyes.

“Sure… cause ordinary people have ready-made mac and cheese so far iced into their freezer that it is no longer possible to get it out without a chisel,” Axel took the bag of shopping from him and Blake found himself rewarded with, if not a kiss, at least a look which promised ‘later’.

“We’re making dinner?”

“I’ll make dinner, you do… erm,”Axel seemed to run out of steam, “Whatever it is you do…”

“I read a lot,” Blake decided to save the boy from himself, “And I listen to classic rock. Meatloaf alright with you?”

“No problem.”

By the time Blake had walked to the stereo he’d noticed the lack of movement coming from the kitchen. He turned to find Axel holding a packet of bacon and staring at the cutting board like he needed to cry. There wasn’t an onion in sight.

“Axel?”

“I’m screwing this up aren’t I?” He sniffed, “I shouldn’t have come over…”

There it was the familiar, sickeningly sweet, and tempting lurch of his heart. His brain told him this was a bad idea, that good in bed and cute as hell or not, he should be gently steering Axel out of his front door. But he couldn’t. It might not work, he might get his heart broken and be proved wrong about his faith in humanity and fate to find Mister Right at some point in his life, but his heart didn’t much care. Being with Axel could be a total disaster, but it was too late, Blake Alston already cared about the handsome blond man. He put down his book and went back to the kitchen.

“You’re doing fine. Tell you what; put this in the fridge and tonight we can order pizza and tomorrow you can show me how to cook yeah?”

“You want me to be here tomorrow?” Axel looked like he didn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Well, might be fun to wake up with you when you don’t have a state-sized hangover.” Blake took the items from Axel’s hands and slipped his own around the young man’s hips, “Just c’mere and kiss me.”

It was a kiss which tasted like the start of something; it might be good, it might turn sour, but as Blake and Axel nearly tripped over each other to get to the bedroom, they decided they didn’t care, because either way, it was worth a shot.