Tag Team (16 page)

“Jesus,” he groaned.

A light rap sounded outside the door, causing him to jump. “Mason? You okay?” Bobby asked.

“I’m….”
Hiding
. Mason flipped on the water and cleared his throat. “Be there in a second.”

“Okay. I made you a cup of tea.”

“Thanks. Be right there.”

Mason cupped his hands beneath the flow of cold water and splashed it on his heated cheeks. He shut off the water and grabbed a hand towel, drying his face before tossing it into the hamper. He’d apologize again and then never speak of his shame again, he vowed. Too bad he couldn’t just wipe the memory from his head. Squaring his shoulders, he opened the bathroom door and stepped out.

Rig was sitting at the kitchen island, sipping coffee and reading the morning paper. Bobby was at his usual spot in front of the stove. The delicious scents of bacon frying and coffee brewing caused Mason’s gut to growl hungrily.

“Anything I can do to help?” he asked and reached for the mug of tea Bobby had set out for him.

“There’s some berries in that bag over there,” Bobby said, pointing toward the far counter with his spatula. “If you’d like to wash them, that’d be great.”

“Sure,” Mason replied, thankful for something to keep busy.
You mean from having to sit across from Rig
. Mason rolled his eyes at his internal asshole and set his cup aside and grabbed the bag and took it to the sink.

“I’ve got some business calls to make this morning and need to run and have a document notarized, so I won’t be able to join you and Rig on the beach,” Bobby informed him as he flipped the bacon, cursing as it popped onto his hand.

Mason tensed.
Shit!
“Umm…. Yeah, that’s too bad.” He stammered and poured the berries into the sink and ran the water. “If you’d rather we do it another day, that’s fine. I’ve got things I can do around here to keep me busy.”

“I had my signature notarized like I was supposed to,” Rig said smugly. “I should not be punished for Bobby’s forgetfulness.”

“I just meant,” Mason started and then looked back over his shoulder. Rig was smiling, and when he noticed Mason turn his head, Rig winked at him. Mason returned the smile, some of the apprehension and unease dissipating. Rig didn’t seem too upset, so…. Yeah, this was a good thing. It would definitely be easier to apologize for his shame in front of Rig instead of both of them. “Okay!” he muttered. “The beach it is.”

Bobby grumbled something about it not being fair, but he didn’t look as if he were too upset about missing a day in the sun. Mason had learned quickly that Bobby wasn’t a big fan of the Florida heat. The love of the sun and heat was something Mason and Rig shared completely.

After sending Bobby off to take care of his business, Mason and Rig grabbed a couple of towels, suntan oil, and a small cooler of iced-down water bottles and headed toward the beach with their lounge chairs.

“This is the life,” Rig said contentedly as he spread his towel out over his chair and stretched out. “I could get used to doing this all year round.”

“You’d have to move further south,” Mason commented and stretched out on his lounger and grabbed the oil. “Gets a little chilly here in the winter to be sunbathing.”

“Still would be better than getting snow and freezing your ass off all winter.”

Mason poured a generous amount of oil on his stomach and in the palm of one hand and then handed it to Rig. “So why don’t you move down here?” Mason was shocked at how much the idea of Rig and Bobby living next to him thrilled him.

“Thanks.” Rig took the offered bottle and poured some into his hands. He rubbed them across his broad chest as he spoke. “Bobby would never survive the summers. Besides, we have a lot of amazing friends back home I couldn’t imagine leaving.” Rig shrugged. “Though I doubt I’d miss them that much during the winter,” he muttered wryly.

Mason couldn’t help but stare at Rig’s hands as they moved across his torso, his lightly furred belly, down his thickly muscled thighs. Mason’s mouth went dry, and his head spun with the assault of conflicting emotions. Arousal, guilt, desire, disloyalty. He forced himself to look away, concentrated on the roll of each wave as it crashed against the shore until the sensation passed.

“Rig?” he started cautiously without turning away from the gulf.

“Hmm?” Rig hummed.

“I’m really sorry about what happened this morning,” he said meekly.

“Okay. Why do you keep apologizing for something I did?”

“How the hell is it your fault that I was having a dream about fucking and ended up blowing a load all over you?” Mason asked, incredulous.

“Wait! What?” Rig’s eyes went wide. “I’m the one who thought you were Bobby and rutted like a fucking animal till I popped.”

They stared at each other for a brief moment, then simultaneously burst into a fit of laughter. “Oh…. Oh damn…. I thought…,” Mason gasped out between snorts of laughter. Mason wiped away the tears on his cheeks, took a deep breath and… cackled.

Damn, it felt good to laugh. Bobby and Rig had been able to make him smile, make him forget about all the bad for a while, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed this hard. His head was pounding, vision blurred, and stomach aching, and he didn’t want it to end.

“I must have really been out of it or horny as hell not to notice the size difference right away,” Rig commented when he finally got his laughter under control, but started to chuckle again when he caught Mason’s gaze and wiped at his wet cheeks.

“I think for me it was a little of both,” Mason admitted. “Plus, I had the weirdest dream.”

“From the way you were poking me, I’d say it was a pretty good dream,” Rig remarked and winked, still smiling.

Mason’s cheeks heated and he rolled his eyes, but he didn’t comment.

They settled down. Rig went back to rubbing in the oil, and Mason went back to trying not to watch him do it. It wasn’t easy. Rig was a very interesting man to say the least, not to mention hot. The laughter had helped to push away the war of emotions, and he pulled his shades down back over his eyes and relaxed.

The silence between him and Rig was companionable, not tense as Mason had feared. The afternoon soon heated his flesh pleasantly, a slight breeze keeping it from being too hot. Mason thought he just might be contented enough to doze off, and he closed his eyes. Rig, however, was still feeling chatty.

“So this dream?”

“Hmm? What about it?” Mason asked.

“Weird is obviously a good thing, considering the outcome. Well, unless you were dreaming about animals or dead hookers.”

Mason shoved up his glasses and turned his head. “Jesus!” he squawked. “No!”

Rig’s brow went up. “Does that mean you’re opposed to such things?”

“No! I mean, yes, I’m opposed to it. That’s just…. No! I’m kinky but seriously? Animals? Dead hookers? That’s just….”

Rig’s expression showed no signs of humor. He looked…. Christ, he looked serious. Did Rig dream or fantasize about such things? Mason wasn’t one to judge; he damn sure had enough kinks of his own, but…. “That’s really fucked up, Rig.”

“Whew, that’s good to know because I don’t do dead hookers, either,” Rig muttered and laid his head back and lifted his chin.

Mason continued to gawk, waiting for the rest.
The animals?
Rig sat there, not looking at him, not reacting, just laying out on his lounger, totally relaxed like he hadn’t just been asking or talking about something so messed up. The silence stretched out until Mason’s head nearly exploded from the thought alone. He couldn’t stand it and blurted out, “Dude. Please tell me you don’t do animals.”

“Define animal,” Rig responded nonchalantly.

“Rig!” Mason jerked to a sitting position, hands flailing as he spoke. “You know, like dogs, cats, horses….” He shuddered. “Cows.”

Rig waved him off with a hand. “I don’t do farm animals nor have I ever dreamed of it.”

Jesus, the man was way too serious talking about such issues. “Rig!”

“Well, come to think of it, that’s not entirely true. There was that pony once.”

Mason’s jaw hit his knees, and his heart literally stopped dead in his chest for a couple of beats until he noticed Rig’s upper lip twitching and knew he was trying to hold back a grin. “You ass,” Mason grumbled, grabbed his towel, and threw it at Rig.

Rig caught it easily and started laughing again. “What? I wasn’t sure if pony play and furries counted or not.”

Mason showed his relief by sighing dramatically and then laughed. “Not my kink, but hey, I’m not judging you.” The idea of Rig and Bobby dressing up in animal costumes and banging was something he simply couldn’t wrap his head around. The pony play, hell yeah. He could see them wielding crops, adding spurs to their boots, and riding hard, but—the image of Bobby dressed as a teddy bear popped into his head, and Mason lost it, laughing boisterously again. “Actually, I can see Bobby as a teddy bear,” he managed to get out, causing Rig to join him in laughter.

“He was a wolf,” Rig snorted. “And before you ask, it was a hell of a Halloween party and drinks were flowing and…. Yeah, just kind of happened.”

“I see you as more of the big bad wolf and Bobby as—”

“I am so telling him if you say grandma,” Rig threatened.

“Hadn’t even crossed my mind, but I’m telling him it crossed yours if you tell him I thought Little Red Riding Hood,” Mason teased.

“Oh fuck, now that’s funny shit,” Rig chortled and held out his hand. “I swear to secrecy.”

“Deal,” Mason agreed and shook on it.

Mason grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler and held it up. Rig nodded and Mason tossed it to him, and then grabbed one for himself before lying back.

“Okay, you know my secrets. Now tell me yours.”

“Too many to tell,” Mason said wryly and unscrewed the cap and tipped up the bottle.

“Then how about starting with the dream you were having this morning?”

“Persistent, aren’t you?” Mason muttered and took another long pull.

“I can be,” Rig said confidently. “But to be honest, I’m just really curious as to what tripped your trigger this morning.”

Mason thought about the dream again, and from what he remembered of it, it wasn’t all that satisfying and in fact, some parts were down right disturbing. “It wasn’t about furries or dead hookers, but it was about people who are dead,” he admitted and looked away.

“Dreaming of your Doms?” Rig asked gently.

Mason nodded and fidgeted with the bottle, making it crack and pop as he squeezed it. “Not sure why I was so ramped up. I mean, I don’t remember all of it, but…. It was weird. Weird because we weren’t all together. First it was Charles and it was really dark, and then he disappeared and Gregory showed up but I couldn’t really see him. There was this huge bright light that came with him or from inside him I think, hiding his features, but I knew.” Mason met Rig’s curious eyes. “You think it was trying to tell me something? You know, Charles being in a dark place and Gregory being in the light?” Mason’s gut knotted. “You think it means Charles went to hell and Gregory went to heaven?”

“No.” Rig’s response was quick and sure, not a hint of hesitation, but he didn’t expand on it.

“How can you say that so confidently?”

“Because it was a dream, Mason. Nothing more, nothing less,” Rig said adamantly. “There is no afterlife, your Doms are not trying to tell you anything or communicate with you. It was a fucking dream.” Rig’s voice rose as he spoke, his tone tinged with anger. “No external force. It’s your mind, your thoughts getting all wonky while you sleep. That’s it!”

“It was only a question,” Mason whispered, shying away from Rig’s flare of anger.

“Fuck!” Rig ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. The whole notion of, he’s trying to communicate, or what do you think this means or that, brings back a lot of bad memories. Bobby used to have a shit load of dreams after our boy died. He was convinced Stephen was trying to tell him something. It about drove him and me insane.” Rig set his water down on the lounge and moved to sit next to Mason and wrapped an arm around him. “That was insensitive of me and I apologize. Maybe dreams help people deal, but for us, me and Bobby, it just made everything worse. Gave hope where there was none. You can analyze your dreams all you want, try to find some hidden meaning, but at the end of the day, and every day after that, your Doms, just like our boy, are not ever coming back.”

“I know,” Mason murmured. “I know they are not coming back, Rig. It’s just…. Sometimes the dreams are good and—”

“You wake up missing them even more,” Rig finished for Mason.

Mason lifted his head and studied Rig’s eyes. From the expression in them, Rig’s response to Mason’s question hadn’t been just because of Bobby’s issues with it, but more than likely, Rig had experienced them too. “Do you still dream about him?”

Rig shook his head. “Not anymore,” he admitted.

Mason gasped from the pain that radiated across his chest. He couldn’t imagine not dreaming about Gregory and Charles. It was the only time he felt close to them. Yes, there were times they were painful, even the good ones hurt upon waking, but to not have them at all? Mason hung his head in his hands, tears burning his eyes.

Rig wrapped Mason in both arms and pulled him close, rocking him. “I’m sorry,” he said again regretfully. “I know you won’t believe me right now. I didn’t believe Max when he said it to me. But honestly, one day your good memories will be enough. You’ll be able to look back and smile when you remember them, and it won’t hurt as much.”

Mason gave up the fight, unable to control his tears; he turned into Rig’s embrace and let them fall freely. For the first time since Charles and Gregory died, he knew his grief wouldn’t send him crashing to the cold, hard ground. This time, wrapped in warmth and understanding, it would be a much softer landing.

Chapter 15