Taking Shelter

By

Devyn Morgan

Copyright © 2015 by Devyn Morgan

All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

***

Something more was missing when he drove home every weeknight to a quiet, empty house.

Jonathon West is a mailman afraid of dogs: he's an office mailroom supervisor, but a childhood attack left him nervous of man's best friend. The office charity committee nominates him to drop off a donation at the animal shelter, an act that takes all his courage. For his pains, openly-gay Jonathon is rewarded by meeting Dylan Pond, the most gorgeous man he's ever laid eyes on. The connection is instant, and Jonathon finds himself drawn back to the animal shelter volunteer's eyes and arms.

Since promising himself he wouldn't date bratty young men, Jonathon's been lonely for too long. As Dylan and Jonathon fall fast and hard, the shelter gets an urgent call. Chemistry isn't enough without commitment. It's time for Jonathon to decide if he can put aside his fears and loneliness to embrace all he's offered.

Taking Shelter is a standalone gay romance with a HEA ending.

Chapter 1

“Did you remember the macaroni?”

Jonathon rolled his eyes and rattled the pasta box before gently placing it back into the tote in the foyer of their office. “Yes, I remembered it this time, Lisa. I'm not always stupid. Only on Mondays.”

“And Tuesdays?”

“And Wednesdays and Thursdays.”

Lisa laughed. “Well, that covers just about everyone. I think we've hit burnout on this campaign. And we've taken a bite out of the food bank's wish list...”

Jonathon glanced down at the three large totes of food that sat on a table next to the front door of the office, plus several grocery bags and a cardboard box. “I'd say this is still a respectable amount to bring.”

“Yep. There's one hitch...” Lisa was grinning in a way that told Jonathon instantly what she was about to ask of him.

“Don't tell me: you need someone to drop it off this weekend.”

Lisa raised her hands. “It could be worse: it could be a dog food bank.”

“Oh, very funny.” Ever since Jonathon had gone out for lunch with his coworkers and nearly jumped out of his skin at a barking dog, they hadn't let him live it down.

Jonathon pushed himself away from the table and slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Casual Fridays were always a treat in the McGilley legal office. As the mail room supervisor, his job was frantic on Friday afternoons and Monday mornings, but after the mail deadline, he had a fair amount of downtime.

To fill the downtime, he'd joined the charity committee in charge of continually rotating their charity actions and building the legal office's community relationships. Over the last two campaigns, he'd been stuck on delivery duty – for Christmas hampers first, and then a toy collection drive for the local hospital.

“Is that a yes?” Lisa pestered, following closely on his heels to the mail room.

Jonathon dramatically flourished with his hands as he pushed the mail room doors open, sauntering through them before spinning on his heels. “Again?”

Lisa slid through the swinging doors before they shut and hooked her thumbs into her jean pockets as she leaned forward to plead. “You know I've got a Smart car. I'd have to do two or three runs to get all that food...”

It's not like I have anything else to do... In all honesty, Jonathon just wanted to be asked properly. “Okay,” he gave in, clicking his tongue as he brushed a hand back through his short, undercut bleach-blond hair.

“Oh, thanks, babe!” Lisa hugged him. She was only a few years older than him, but she'd taken him under her wing; in the high-stress environment of the legal office, the support and admin staff stuck together.

Jonathon flapped a hand to shoo Lisa off and laughed. “Go on, close up the boxes and put them by the door. I'll get my car keys.”

In reality, it gave him something to do other than mope around at home. Since hitting twenty-five, he'd found himself increasingly disillusioned with the club scene. Even though he was still considered a hot catch, nobody ever stuck around, and nobody he took home even seemed to like him.

He'd come to believe that there was no such thing as commitment.

Maybe when he was thirty, guys his age would be ready to settle down. For now, he was more interested in reruns of What Not to Wear and Masterchef than reruns of his college ex-boyfriends – or worse yet, high school.

He liked a bit of drama as much as the next 20-something fem guy, but that much drama never ended well.

As Jonathon grabbed his car keys from his jacket, he headed to the office entrance and found Lisa with the stack of boxes. “I'll pull my car around,” he told her and headed out to the parking lot park his Jetta illegally in the yellow striped zone in front of the doors.

He covered his mouth in pretend shock as he trotted back up to the office door. “Don't tell anyone.”

Lisa laughed and held a finger to her lips in a promise of silence. “Okay, you hold the doors and I'll carry them--”

Oh, hell, no. A guy had to have some pride. “No, no,” Jonathon firmly told her. “You hold the door.” He ducked around her and picked up the first tote before she could argue the point, then nodded pointedly at the door to get her to do so.

“Fine, but don't pull something and grouse at me later,” Lisa laughed.

Most of Jonathon's lovers would have described him as scrawny, but he was still a full-grown man capable of loading his cute little ride with a few boxes of groceries. Jonathon was used to hefting twenty-five pound boxes of paperwork, but most of his coworkers didn't see that part of his job.

Instead, they were used to his cheerful morning sashay past their desks to distribute stacks of letters and light parcels, and they assumed that was all he could do. Even if he enjoyed the sight of a big, strong thing carrying things for him, he sometimes hesitated to let others do anything for him now. The need to prove himself against those ideas hadn't quite faded.

It took a few trips, but he loaded up the back with a tote and the bags, then put the remaining totes and boxes into the backseat.

“All done!” he announced as he carried the last bag past Lisa and winked. “The parking police didn't even catch me.”

It was nearly five and the mail deadline had long since passed, so he was free to go home. The associates would be toiling for hours to come, but he'd deal with it on Monday. The intern, Harry, was responsible for weekend shipping and mailroom duties, and Jonathon had trained him to be good enough at it that he very rarely had to come into the office on weekends now.

“Thank you, darling,” Lisa beamed at him as he passed her to close down the mailroom bay doors and tidy up his workspace for the weekend. “You're a sweetheart.”

“I know,” Jonathon winked and half-hugged her on his way past. He liked her and his other coworkers, his job, and even his life in general these days.

But something was missing when he drove home every weeknight to a quiet, empty house.

Chapter 2

One of Jonathon's greatest pleasures in life was sleeping in on Saturday mornings. He got up at the usual time on Sunday so he wasn't too thrown off by Monday morning, but Saturday was fair game.

By the time he got up and neatly made his bed with tight sheets the way he liked it, showered, styled his hair, dressed, and ate breakfast, it was almost afternoon, but so much the better, he figured; the food bank probably wasn't open early on weekend mornings.

On a gray March morning, the couch was awfully inviting, but he managed to pass by and grab his keys to drive over to Springfield Business Park, the industrial park where the food bank was located. The park also housed several other charities, a brewery, a car detailing place, and other small businesses that didn't tend to attract a lot of weekend traffic.

Even so, there were no cars at all outside the food bank when he pulled up and climbed out of the car.

Almost immediately, harsh barking made him flinch.

Jonathon took a hasty glance around before spotting the Springfield Animal Shelter sign. It backed onto the green belt and there was a natural lot with chainlink fence behind the shelter building. From the other side of the parking lot, he spotted dogs bounding through the long grass, wrestling, and playing.

“As long as you don't jump over the fence,” he muttered to himself.

He approached the food bank door, sidling up to the glass and leaning in to read the sign:

Closed

Due to a maintenance issue, the food bank will be closed this weekend.

Please drop off donations to the animal shelter next door between 11am and 4pm for a tax receipt.

Our apologies for the temporary inconvenience!

Springfield Food Bank

“Ohhhh,” Jonathon groaned. “That figures.”

He took another look across the parking lot, but a series of deep, loud barks nearly startled him right back off the steps.

“I'll come back later,” he murmured as he climbed quickly into the car, his heart racing as he checked the lock on his door. He'd visit just before it closed, after the dogs were quieter and ready to sleep. That sounded like a good plan.

Besides, he had to get to the grocery store to pick up groceries for himself anyway. The cool winter temperatures wouldn't endanger any of the shelf-stable foods in the totes and bags currently crammed into his car for a few more hours.

Jonathon ignored the voice in the back of his mind that told him he was rationalizing avoidance.

The distractions didn't end with grocery shopping. After stuffing all of his own groceries into the front seat and unpacking everything into his fridge, Jonathon found himself absorbed in a cooking show marathon, then real estate shows.

When he glanced at the clock and realized it was after five o'clock, he shrugged it off. He still had Sunday to get up his courage.

***

When Sunday morning came around, Jonathon had to visit two of his friends and drop off a housewarming gift over lunch, then treated himself to coffee at one of his favorite coffee shops downtown and called his parents from a table at the heated porch outside to catch up. xxx

Finally, at three PM, he was forced to admit that he was avoiding the shelter. He had to go now; he couldn't drive back to work tomorrow and tell Lisa he hadn't dropped off their donations because he'd been afraid of a few silly dogs.

“For god's sakes,” he murmured. He stood up and grabbed his car keys and phone. It was such a stupid little thing to be worried about, but he and dogs...

Well, they didn't get along.

He slid his coffee mug across the counter with a wink to the cute barista on his way out. The answering smile and wink cheered him up.

Still got it.

It was equally ridiculous to be worried about losing his looks, but he couldn't help it. It had been a few months since his twenty-fifth birthday, and his last date had been a week before his birthday. The last time he got laid: another month before that. Even if it was mostly by choice, that was enough to put a dent in anyone's self-confidence.

Riding high on his little wave of confidence, he pulled into the parking lot in front of the animal shelter fifteen minutes later and didn't let himself linger in the car before he climbed out. He opened the back door to grab several bags.

Carrying a bag on each arm, he approached the animal shelter door.

When it opened, he was greeted with a chorus of distant barks that made him flinch hard, but he was dead set on his destination: the office front desk, which stood empty right now.

“Be there in a minute, sorry!” a husky, sensual voice called out from around a corner.

“No problem,” Jonathon answered, setting the bags on the desk and leaning on it backwards. He propped his hands on it and crossed his legs.

The volunteer who had called out sounded handsome. At least Jonathon was dressed nicely for a Sunday out and about: dark skinny jeans, a long-sleeved gray collared shirt with a light cream floral pattern and cream buttons, a white shirt, and a flowing, and low cut gray canvas shoes. Very understated but handsome, he hoped.

When the man who had called out to him came hurrying around the corner a few seconds later, both of them stopped in their tracks for a moment.

Oh.

Jonathon's cheeks instantly flushed with heat. He shifted his stance to put a little more weight on one leg, casting a coy little smile at the gorgeous man who had given him the twice-over, too.

He was fucking sexy, and exactly Jonathon's type.

“Hi,” Jonathon greeted, trying his hardest not to stare. It had been so long since his last date – and much longer since his last date with actual chemistry – that he hardly remembered how to play it cool.

In stark contrast to feeling understated seconds ago, Jonathon now felt like he was a fashionista in comparison to this man.

Despite his efforts, Jonathon's eyes wandered. He wasn't unattractively overly-muscled, but the dirty, plain navy blue t-shirt he wore highlighted his arm muscles. His jeans were faded and ripped, also a practical choice around dogs. The exception to his practical clothing was the Converse shoes he wore, too: the denim high-top ones.

“Hello! Thanks for dropping by,” the volunteer greeted with an answering smile. He approached so close that the chemistry sizzled between them. It took all Jonathon had not to sway into his orbit. “I'm Dylan.”

Dylan.

The name was perfect.

Of course it was: he was fucking perfect.

“Jonathon.”

Dylan's short, dark hair was in desperate need of finger-combing and Jonathon wanted to be the one to do it. His eyes were bright blue, which pinned Jonathon on the spot as Dylan circled around the desk.

“Oh! You have a donation for the food bank?” Dylan guessed.

Fuck, that's right. Jonathon had nearly forgotten why he was there in the heat of the moment. Mercifully, the dogs were relatively quiet right now, but he was reminded once again of why he wanted to be in and out –

He blushed.

“Right, yes. Sorry,” Jonathon laughed for a moment, facing Dylan across the desk. The solid object between them grounded him and he pressed his hands to it. “I have a few more bins and boxes, actually. It's all from my office.”

“Oh, wow, that's awesome. Want help carrying it in?” Dylan offered.

Despite his habit of doing his own heavy lifting, Jonathon agreed with a breathless, “Yeah,” before he even thought about what he was saying. Really, he wanted to see those arm muscles at work. Then, his cheeks burned hotter. “I mean, yes, please.”

Dylan grinned, pausing for a moment. His eyes flickered quickly up and down Jonathon's body once more.

Holy shit, he's interested.

It took all Jonathon had not to strut out of the front door like a peacock at the attention. He was suddenly very self-conscious about the way he held himself, the way he walked, even what he was doing with his hands.

“Cute car,” Dylan smiled, but his eyes were on Jonathon.

Jonathon nearly tripped down the last stair, and he couldn't even blame the dogs since there were none in the side yard. “Th-Thanks. It's stereotypical, yeah, but... so am I.” He glanced around the lot, but he couldn't find another. “You have one?”

Dylan chuckled at his self-deprecating joke, then shrugged. “No, I take the bus.”

“I haven't even seen buses running here,” Jonathon frowned as he glanced up and down Springfield Park Road.

“Oh, they come at the right times. One leaves ten minutes after I close the shelter from a stop about five minutes' walk that way,” Dylan pointed. Jonathon tried not to focus on the t-shirt pulling tight across his chest and look past that to where he was pointing.

“Ah, right.”

“I plan my volunteer shifts here carefully, though,” Dylan added with a laugh.

Jonathon nodded, pulling open his car door. “There's three more boxes in here, and one in the back.”

“Oh, wow,” Dylan marveled. The stunned look on his face was immensely satisfying. Jonathon imagined giving him that same look in bed, but he tried hard to drag his imagination away from dirty thoughts of Dylan pulling his shirt up, grabbing Jonathon's cheek and pulling his head in...

“Y-Yeah. I'm coming from an office. Wait, I said that. Yeah...”

Shut up. Oh my God. He hated feeling like he was fifteen and caught staring again at the school's rugged quarterback, or nineteen and following his professor after class, in case he should look around...

Those days were over, but Dylan made him feel like he was four years younger and less able to control his physical reactions.

He hastily wiped an arm across his forehead, then leaned into the car to grab the box on the far side of the seat and pull it across to him. When he straightened up and turned with it towards Dylan, he caught Dylan's eyes flickering up to his.

The other man gave him a sheepish half-grin, then accepted the box. “What office?” he asked.

God, his voice was huskier now, and it made Jonathon want to...

Focus. “Uh, a law one. Legal. A legal... law office.” Jonathon bit his tongue and grabbed a second box for himself, leaving the car door open as they walked towards the shelter's front door again. “McGilley.”

“Mm, I haven't heard of them, but I'm not an expert,” Dylan smiled. He balanced the box on his hip and pulled the door open, holding it open for Jonathon.

Jonathon's shoulder brushed Dylan's arm on the way past, and he tried not to make obvious the electric shiver that ran up his spine. “No? Well, we do... charity things... all the time. I mean, the charity committee. I'm on the committee. That's why I'm delivering this... stuff.” He pushed open the inner door. “Can we prop this open?”

Dylan was already sliding a metal piece on the hinge across to prop the front door open. “I don't want to let the heat out, but that one pushes open anyway.”

“Good thought.”

“Put the box over there by the window,” Dylan told him, and Jonathon's attention was directed to the large cardboard box with a few bags sitting inside.

Jonathon slid the tote next to the box, then turned about.

Dylan was right there, his body hot and firm and his blue eyes smiling at the surprise that registered on Jonathon's face at the closeness. His arm muscles flexed, his t-shirt lifting and showing off a slice of his lower back as he bent over to slide his box on top of Jonathon's, boxing Jonathon in against the wall.

He could fuck me up against the wall.

Jonathon's head spun as he tried to remember his promise to himself: no more hookups. No anonymous sex with men he'd barely met. Wait for mature guys, men who knew what they wanted in a partner.

It didn't stop his disappointment when Dylan drew back and walked towards the door again. “So, you're on the charity committee?”

Jonathon steadied his nerves, then followed Dylan back out into the cool air of late afternoon. “Yeah. We do raffles and charity drives and that kind of thing.”

“Hm,” Dylan murmured thoughtfully, then shifted tack as they reached the car again. “I can get that one if you get the one in the back.”

Jonathon nodded and stepped around to the back of the car. His gaze snuck back for a moment to Dylan's backside through the loose-fitting, ripped jeans. That was a waste of a great ass – something a little tighter would have been a much better choice.

But not for working with dogs, he reminded himself as he opened the trunk, grabbed the tote, and shifted it to his hip for long enough to slam the back hatch shut again.

He tried to stay cool as they both walked to the steps again. This time, Jonathon wasn't looking carefully enough where he was going and slammed the tote into the edge of the inner door on his way through.

That noise was enough to set the dogs into a series of quick, harsh barks that made him draw a sharp breath in and stare at Dylan. “Sorry...!”

Dylan laughed. “It's fine,” he assured Jonathon, but unlike the lingering movements and gazes they'd shared moments ago, he set this tote down quickly and strode through to the back. “Back in a sec.”

Jonathon put the final box down and then let out a quick breath, wiping his hands on his jeans and tugging his shirt into place. He touched his hair a little, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Calm down,” he whispered to himself. “For fuck's sakes.”

The dogs quieted and stopped within a minute, and then Dylan was striding back into the front office, all business again. “Let me register your donation, then. I'm assuming you'll need one for the committee?”

“Yep,” Jonathon confirmed and wandered towards the desk as Dylan bent over it and opened a pad, scribbling quickly on it. “You, um, volunteer here much?”

His clumsy attempt at conversation worked as Dylan nodded. “Three nights a week.”

“Always by yourself?” Dylan cut him a little teasing glance and Jonathon blushed. “I mean, that... I didn't mean to sound creepy... it must be a lot of work...”

Dylan was smirking as he finished filling out the form, his eyes on the page again. “Mm, no,” he hummed. “The earlier shifts take care of most of the cleaning. I have to bring the dogs in and calm them down for the night. And handle the public.”

“Ah,” Jonathon nodded.

“Have any pets of your own?” Dylan asked, tearing the receipt page off the book and handing it over.

Jonathon pocketed it and shook his head. “Er, none.”

“Not allergic, I hope?” Dylan was concerned for his safety for a moment, which Jonathon found utterly sweet.

“Nope.” Jonathon reassured him. “I just, uh, don't like dogs much.”

Dylan gasped, and Jonathon winced. Not the way to win over a shelter volunteer. “Oh, that's a shame. What about cats?”

Jonathon was fairly neutral on cats, so he shrugged. “They're all right.”

Dylan slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Want to come see them?”

I can't really turn that down. The hopeful expression on Dylan's face was absolutely endearing, and if it would win him a few more minutes talking with him...

“Okay.”

Dylan grinned triumphantly. He swept past Jonathon as if showing off his favorite sports trophies or a prized book collection, leading him down a narrow hallway and past a whiteboard with a list of names and checkmarks. A door with a screen and shelf on it separated them from the cat room. Dylan looked through the screen and down before opening it carefully, holding it for long enough for Jonathon to step through.

The room was small and dark, and Jonathon's heart sank. It was painted nicely and clean, but there was only one window and it was on the shady side of the building. One wall was lined with cages, and tall gray lockers stood against a second wall. Five cats were out of their cages, roaming freely around the room. Three were doing more napping than roaming, a fourth came walking over slowly to investigate them, and the fifth was busy playing with a catnip stuffed toy.

Jonathon crouched on his toes to get on the cat's level and present his hand for approval.

The cat sniffed it, then rubbed its cheek along his thumb.

“She likes you. That's Venus,” Dylan introduced them, standing nearby with his hands in pockets again.

Jonathon smiled at the orange and white cat. “Aren't all orange cats boys?”

“Most orange cats are,” Dylan agreed. “It means her dad was orange and her mom was orange, calico, or a torty.”

Jonathon wasn't completely sure what Dylan meant by a torty, but he nodded nonetheless. “Cool.” He petted her a few more times, then rose to his feet and glanced over to the other cages. Several cats were confined to cages. “Are they shy?”

Dylan nodded. “We know these ones get along fine, but the others need supervision to be around them until the pecking order is established, or they're more shy and prefer to be by themselves.”

Jonathon's heart hurt as he gazed through the bars at a white kitten who was grooming, two gray cats who were tangled up together and napping, and a fluffy brown cat watching them through the bars.

“Would you ever adopt?” Dylan grinned, his voice a clear tease. He knew that Jonathon knew what he was doing.

Jonathon laughed. “You're good,” he winked, meeting Dylan's gaze again while Venus sniffed around his feet. “But I don't know if I'm really a cat person.”

“Dogs? We're nearly full, so we're always looking for new dog owners, too,” Dylan teased, swaying on his feet in a hopeful little mannerism.

“Oh, I don't know...” Jonathon hedged. He didn't want disappointment to cloud those deep blue eyes. Dylan's lashes were dark and long and highlighted them even further, but his jaw was strong and his lips... oh, his lips were full and red. Jonathon wanted so badly to taste them.

Control it, man. Fuck.

“Or, if you wanted to help the shelter another way...” Dylan gestured around at the cat room. “You probably noticed this is a pretty small room, not the best spot.” Jonathon nodded and Dylan continued, “Well... we're fundraising for a new shelter.”

“Oh, wow.”

Dylan nodded. “We're doing a dinner and dessert evening. Since your office was so generous to the food bank, we'll throw in an extra pair of tickets. Would your committee bite if we offered two pairs of tickets to raffle off?”

Jonathon nodded. He hardly knew what he was agreeing to or how he'd pitch it to Lisa and the others, but he'd make it work.

He wanted to make Dylan smile, but more than that, he wanted to see him again. Raffling something off would be the perfect excuse to drop by again some night soon.

Dylan lit up, his eyes shining brightly as a grin spread across his face. He reached out to take Jonathon's hand and squeeze it, then shook hands. “Thank you.”

“Welcome,” Jonathon managed in return, his palm tingling at the warmth of the connection between them and the way Dylan's fingers firmly wrapped around his.

Fuck. I'm crushing.

“One of the staff members holds the tickets and signs them out, so if you want to come back tomorrow night, you can pick up the ticket ledger, raffle tickets, and the actual event tickets to give away at the end. Would that be too much trouble?” Dylan asked.

The only reason Jonathon registered most of that was because Dylan let go of his hand halfway through the sentence to open the cat room door and usher him back out towards the office before Venus got too close and slipped out. “Yeah. I mean, sorry, no – it wouldn't be. I'm not busy anyway.” Then, a thought occurred to him and he jolted. “Oh, shit, is it after closing time?”

Dylan checked his watch and nodded. “Oh. I didn't even realize! Yeah.”

I can't make him miss his bus. That would be the worst first impression to leave. Jonathon ignored the thought that that would be a convenient excuse to give him a ride home.

He was not going to let himself sleep with this guy the first time they met.

“Okay, um, I'll let you close up and catch the bus,” Jonathon murmured. “Unless you wanted a ride home.”

“I can manage, thanks,” Dylan answered, running his tongue along his lower lip and shifting his weight onto one leg. He knew what Jonathon was asking.

“And I'll be back tomorrow night.”

“Great,” Dylan answered with a sincere smile.

It was a stark contrast to the mustered-up enthusiasm he'd heard afterward from so many guys he'd brought home over the last five or ten years who agreed to call him – and never did.

“See you, then.” Jonathon fled the shelter, his breath catching in his throat as he reached his now-empty car and climbed into the driver's seat.

He thought about waiting until Dylan got out to make sure he got to the bus stop safely, but worried that would be taking it much too far. It wasn't a freakin' date. God, he scolded himself as he started up his Jetta.

If his eyes wandered to the rear-view mirror a couple of times as he pulled out of the shelter parking lot in an attempt to glimpse Dylan, he wouldn't admit it.

Chapter 3

“See you tomorrow!” Jonathon waved a playful goodbye to Roger, one of his favorite shipping drivers.

Roger was straight and married, but willing to play along with Jonathon's efforts to be constantly cheerful and flirtatious; sure enough, he waved back with a laugh.

Jonathon liked making people smile. He tried to make sure Roger and the other delivery people left with a spring in their step.

He closed the receiving door and turned to take in the packages strewn across his shipping table. “Oh, lord,” he hummed, running a hand back along the close-cropped section of his hair. “They must have been mail-ordering antique tomes. Spell books, probably.”

It was mid-morning on Monday and he'd received most of the morning mail shipments. He still had to sort out a few parcels from that weekend that Harry hadn't been sure how to deal with, then work on outgoing shipments.

Jonathon was so busy sorting packages into neat piles according to department that he hardly noticed Lisa coming in not long before lunchtime.

“Jon!”

Jonathon groaned at the nickname, knowing immediately who it is. “Jon isn't around, but Jonathon would be happy to take your message,” he responded, pivoting on his toe to face Lisa and lean backwards on the steel table.

Lisa laughed. “Sorry,” she teased, though she clearly wasn't. “I've been emailing you and you haven't answered!”

“Monday morning, Lis',” Jonathon reminded her patiently. Even she didn't know the intricacies of the mailroom routine. “You have a better shot of reaching me by tin can. I like your blouse, by the way.”

“Oh, thanks, darling!” The sheer frills on the front were cute. She always dressed nicely, mostly because of the job's demands. Clients expected a pretty woman behind the desk, and Jonathon suspected Lisa didn't always like that. “It's about the raffle.”

“Ohhhh.” Jonathon had completely forgotten he'd emailed her a simple two-line email: Dropped off the food, receipt's in your basket. How about a raffle next for party tickets re: new animal shelter next? “That was a bit cryptic, wasn't it?” he snickered.

“An animal shelter raffle?” she grinned. “You and your fear of dogs?”

Jonathon lamented, “Shut uuup,” and rolled his head back.

“Is there a man?”

Jonathon's head snapped up again and judging by the heat in his cheeks, he knew he was an unattractive tomato red. “Uh...”

“Oh my God, there is,” Lisa laughed. “So, tell me about the raffle first...”

Jonathon clicked his tongue. “Basically, their shelter is too small, they need a new, bigger one. There's a fundraising dinner and dessert party and they're willing to give us two pairs of tickets because we donated so much to the food bank next door. I'm dropping by tonight to pick up the tickets and ledger.”

“Oooh, and see a certain someone?” Lisa teased.

Jonathon was still blushing furiously. “Maybe,” was all he said with a cryptic wink as he hopped down from the table again. “But some of us have parcels to deliver before lunch.”

xxx “I'll catch you later for lunch then, all right?” Lisa waved as she walked out through the double doors.

“See you,” Jonathon chuckled.

He'd almost forgotten about Dylan while trying to handle shipments, sort out regular mail into the individual employees' mailboxes, and collect outgoing mail for the pre-noon express cutoff.

Almost.

Those bright blue eyes kept popping back into Jonathon's mind, making him smile every single time. The advantage of trying to be a perpetually cheery face in a high-stress workplace was that if he was more cheerful than usual that morning, few people noticed.

***

Jonathon's heart was racing for more than one reason as he sat outside the shelter in his car. He curled his fingers nervously around the wheel, glancing in the rearview mirror to check his teeth and hair.

He'd chosen a dark green collared shirt with an off-beige pair of corduroys and a thin, silky purple scarf (more for fashion than warmth). He'd coordinated his belt with his shoes. It was ridiculous to dress up so much when he'd only see Dylan for a few minutes, but he wanted to make a good impression every time he saw him.

Jonathon pried himself out of the driver's seat, instantly flinching at the loud barking as soon as he opened the car door. He avoided looking over at the yard and strode quickly to the front door of the shelter.

It wasn't that he was afraid, exactly, he told himself. It was a natural response.

“Hello!” he greeted a little too loudly when he entered the front office. A quick glance over at the food bin revealed that it was gone, the contents presumably delivered to the next-door food bank.

The older woman who greeted him had streaks of silver running through her hair and a warm smile. “Oh, hello. Welcome to the shelter. You must be Jonathon.”

Did Dylan tell her about me? What did he say? “Yep,” Jonathon confirmed with a small as he swept over to the desk to shake hands when she offered her hand.

“Thank you so much for offering to fundraise for us.”

“Well, you had a persuasive salesman working on me to do it,” Jonathon responded with a wink as he pulled back from the gentle handshake. To say the least.

“Dylan's great at that, isn't he?” she agreed. “I'm Cathy, by the way. So, I've got your tickets here...” She pulled over a bag and opened it. “Two pairs of party tickets, a roll of raffle tickets – call if you need more – and a can to hold them, and the ledger with the ticket minimums, prices, and everything.” She smiled. “It's all pretty self-explanatory.”

“Great, thanks,” Jonathon answered, taking the bag. Speaking of which... is Dylan around today? No, that sounds too obvious. He nodded again. “I'll be in touch and let you know how it's going.”

“That's fantastic. Thank you again, Jonathon.”

Jonathon waved goodbye and glanced quickly down the hallway on his way out to make sure Dylan wasn't around. Maybe he was out walking dogs, or he didn't volunteer that night...

He opened his car door to drop the bag off on the passenger seat when a voice called his name, followed by a chorus of barks.

He twitched but calmed his racing heart deliberately, then turned around. The familiar, husky voice was indeed Dylan; he was on the other side of the chainlink fence, his fingers curled around the links near his head.

How romantic.

Jonathon closed his door again and walked through the grass towards the backyard, which wrapped around the side of the building. “Hi! I didn't realize you were here.”

A few dogs came nosing around Dylan's knees to inspect Jonathon, but quickly lost interest and bounded off. Jonathon approached and leaned against the fence by curling his fingers through his side of the mesh. Their hands nearly brushed, but not quite... mere inches separated them.

“I'm glad you came. I wasn't sure you would.”

“I always c– I mean, when I make a promise... I always... follow through.” Jonathon fumbled, trying and failing to save that sentence before it came out with much more innuendo than was appropriate. He blushed, making it very obvious where his mind had been going.

Dylan managed to turn his laugh into a cough, turning his face into his shoulder for a moment. “Well, I'm glad,” he nodded.

“How was your-- oh!”

Woof! A single alarm bark, then a string of deep barks echoed through the yard from a large black dog who came bounding up to them.

Jonathon stumbled backwards a pace, forgetting about the fence for a moment before he let out a shaky, breathy laugh.

“Hey, hey boy, it's all right,” Dylan smiled down at the dog, scratching his head with one of his free hands. “And you too, Rex.”

Rex snorted and pressed his muzzle into Dylan's thigh.

Jonathon laughed with surprise at Dylan's saucy remark. He moved his hand over a little so the tips of their fingers seemingly accidentally brushed. “Yeah. The fence helps.”

“Afraid of dogs?” Dylan's expression was sympathetic now. “Attacked as a kid?”

Jonathon nodded. “There was an ex-police dog in the neighborhood...”

“Oh, shit, I'm sorry,” Dylan murmured, his brows furrowing. “That would do it, huh? Rex is so sweet, though. He's fine.”

“I know, I know. It's not logical, but...” Jonathon lifted his shoulders in a sheepish shrug.

“It's fine,” Dylan assured him sincerely. “There's cute small dogs here, and if all else fails, the cats like visitors...” This time, Dylan moved his hand so their palms were separated by the chain links, his fingers hooking across the same smooth wires as their fingertips pressed together.

Holy fuck, Jonathon thought as the urge to press closer and kiss Dylan rose rapidly within him. He wanted to slip his fingers between Dylan's and push him up against this fence... “Yeah,” he answered in a murmur, realizing he'd forgotten to answer. “When... are you here?”

“Mondays, Wednesdays, and Sundays,” Dylan answered, not drawing his hand back yet. When a smile curved his lips, his eyes warmed up and the fucking cutest dimples appeared in his cheeks.

I'm screwed.

Jonathon nodded, unable to take his eyes off that pretty face. “I'll drop by sometime.” Sometime, of course, meaning as soon as possible.

“Check out that ledger,” Dylan murmured. “If anything doesn't make sense, let me know.”

“Will do. I'm sure it'll be okay. We did a raffle last – last Thanksgiving, and it was good. It went well. With tickets, like your tickets, except blue. I mean, you probably have different colors...” Jonathon's self-control lapsed for a moment and he babbled before he shaking his head. “I mean, sorry. Shut up, Jonathon...”

A quiet, rich laugh bubbled from deep within Dylan's throat, and Jonathon grew suddenly, acutely aware of the two inches or so height difference. The yard was a bit more elevated than the land on the other side of the fence, though their eyes were at the same level now. He'd have to stretch up normally to kiss him.

“O-Okay, you look busy with... with dogs. I should go,” Jonathon murmured. He was barely able to pull himself back and away from Dylan, so he didn't move.

Dylan's hand slipped away from the fence and he took a step back. “Okay. See you soon, Jonathon.”

The way he said his name made Jonathon want to know how he moaned it.

“Bye.” Get to the car. Just get to the car before you get a boner in front of him.

Jonathon quickly raised a hand in his usual wave and walked through the grass and then across concrete to his car.

When he climbed inside and glanced back, Dylan was still standing there, Rex circling around his feet with a tennis ball. Dylan's attention was solidly on him, and when he caught Jonathon looking, Dylan waved with a little flutter of his fingers like Jonathon had.

Jonathon blushed again, nearly putting the keys through the dashboard before he located the steering wheel column and started up his car.

He managed to avoid staring in the rearview mirror this time until he was about to turn onto the street. When he let himself steal one glance, Dylan was drawing his arm back to perfectly pitch that tennis ball across the yard. As he did, his t-shirt pulled up from his stomach and lower back to reveal a flat, toned stomach. If only he could see that up close.

“Oh, God,” he moaned as he checked both ways again and pulled out into the street. It took all he had to pay attention to the road for the drive home.

Chapter 4

“Oh my God, I'm an idiot.”

Jonathon smacked his forehead as he sat at his desk in the corner of the mailroom, the bag of raffle ticket supplies in his lap. The ledger was open on the desk in front of him, and a scrap of paper sat in his lap.

He plucked it out of his lap, already knowing more or less what it would say. There was a phone number and the name Dylan. When he flipped the paper over, he found a quick scribbled message:

Walk dogs with me on Wednesday? Y/N (text one)

Jonathon laughed at the message and immediately twisted around to dig in the pocket of his jacket and pull out his cellphone. Work hours or not, he'd missed the implications of Dylan's hint to check the ledger last night and he didn't want to keep Dylan waiting a moment longer than he had to.

He carefully entered Dylan's number in his phone as a new contact, then composed a text message.

It's Jonathon: yes to seeing you, no to dogs :)

Then, he tried to focus on work as he composed a followup email to the charity committee with the raffle details. Lisa would design and print a poster, George from payroll got approval from the higher-ups, junior lawyer Kev was in charge of composing and sending the office email announcement, and they'd all pitch in and sell tickets at lunchtime that day. The information slip enclosed in the raffle ticket ledger recommended running the raffle for about two weeks – long enough for everyone to get paid and find a bit of spare money for it, but not to get raffle burnout.

Honestly, Jonathon was excited for the chance to raise a little money for a good cause, and if he impressed a cute guy along the way... everyone would win.

His phone went off and he glanced at the message.

Rex didn't win you over? ;)

Jonathon licked his lips, glad Dylan hadn't taken offense, then replied with a little flirtation.

Not yet lol. You did though.

His phone went off immediately. Dylan was definitely into him as much as he was into Dylan.

So did you :) So you'll come Wed night?

Yes for sure. What time?

Right before closing worked last time. Dogs are quieter then.

Jonathon smiled at the thoughtfulness, his fingers hovering over the phone for a few moments as he decided how to reply. Then, he went for it.

You're sweet :) Glad you gave me your number even if I didn't realize until now lol sorry.

Dylan's answer came instantly again, which made Jonathon smile. By now, he hadn't stood up from his desk or even glanced at his email in a couple of minutes. It was playing hooky, but he wanted a couple of minutes to himself to follow up on this chance before he lost it.

I was worried ;) Thought Rex or the raffle scared you off lol.

Jonathon laughed, then remembered where he was and glanced around the mailroom. Luckily, nobody was coming in to retrieve mail or ship anything, but he knew he really shouldn't risk texting at work.

Not at all. Starting the raffle today will let you know how it goes! Gotta go work lol.

Okay! Thanks again :) See you soon.

Jonathon had never been quicker to go about sorting his mail, packing or repacking what was necessary, printing labels, and delivering the last few parcels he had yet to drop off. He didn't want to waste a single minute of his lunch break that could be spent selling tickets.

***

Throughout the day, the jar of tickets built up. Just before lunch, Kev sent the office email and people began dropping by his desk for tickets. In his spare minutes, Jonathon shook other coworkers down in his usual teasing mannerisms, reminding them that the raffle would only be running for two weeks.

Jonathon snapped photo texts to stealthily send Dylan whenever the level in the jar changed noticeably as it filled up: the first photo showed the first three on the bottom of the empty jar, the next showed a thick layer of tickets, and by the third photo, there was volume between tickets as people folded them as they dropped them in.

Dylan would send back an approving text with thanks of some kind each time he sent a photo and chat for a minute before one of them had to hurry back to work.

By the end of the day, the jar was about a quarter full, and Jonathon was exceptionally proud of himself. If he maintained this volume, he'd raise at least a hundred dollars a day, though he knew it was unlikely since some people who bought tickets today wouldn't buy again.

Still, it was a mission, and it gave him an excuse to keep texting Dylan. He snapped a photo of the jar at the end of the day and sent it to Dylan before closing down the mail room. Before he headed out of the office, he glanced at his phone for a response.

He found another text from Dylan – but this one was a picture text for the first time.

He eagerly opened it, then grinned at the full-sized photo: Dylan with a large, golden, fluffy dog – a retriever, he was pretty sure. The dog was on a leash in a park, rolling on its back on the grass with a stick in his mouth and his tail wagging so hard it was blurry in the picture. Dylan was wearing a beanie and giving the camera a thumbs-up. It was adorable.

Worse yet, his caption read:

OMG. Ruby and I are thrilled!

Jonathon stared at the text for a few long moments, then went back to the full view of the picture, his smile making his cheeks hurt. He opened up a text message anyway.

She looks sweet. She MIGHT change my mind ;)

Dylan's response was instant.

Really?? omg!

Jonathon laughed and shook his head.

Not yet lol. You can try to convince me Wednesday ;)

Oh I will! :)

Jonathon sighed happily as he pocketed his phone and took out his keys instead. He still had one more whole work day to get through before he met Dylan again, but he was going to do his best to make it fly by and raise money for Dylan's charity at the same time.

He tossed his phone into the backseat when he got into the car so he couldn't glance at the photo Dylan had sent him during red lights.

It had been a long time since he'd had to put his phone in the backseat to focus on driving.

Chapter 5

By Wednesday evening, Jonathon was about ready to march into the animal shelter and kiss the fuck out of Dylan. They'd been flirting over text messages again all day, and he desperately wanted to see him in person. The drive to Springfield Park had been quick thanks to his urgency.

He didn't hesitate to climb out of the car this time and approach the animal shelter front door. When he pulled the first door open, the second one was already open and Dylan leaned in the door frame. This time, he wore a ripped plaid shirt that exposed a peek at his ribs with faded jeans, his muscles hidden disappointingly well beneath his clothes.

Jonathon's smile was instant. “Hey! You were waiting for me.”

“Of course. I heard that sexy engine pull up,” Dylan teased.

Jonathon pretended to be insulted and pressed a hand to his heart. “Sexier than the bus engine,” he retorted.

Dylan didn't take offense – he burst out laughing, which made the dogs in the kennels bark and yelp, picking up on each other's noises and making more of their own.

“Oh, crap,” Dylan laughed. “Sit outside for a minute?”

Jonathon could hardly hear him over the sound of barking, but nodded.

Once both shelter doors were closed, he glanced around for a clean spot on the step to sit. It had all been freshly swept, but his jeans were new. Dylan dropped down to sit on the top step, stretching long legs down to the gravel below and looking over expectantly at him, so Jonathon gingerly sat next to him.

“Do you mind getting dog hair on your clothes?”

Jonathon was startled into glancing down at Dylan's shirt. Sure enough, there was a fine layer of thin white, gray, brown, and black hairs – the white were most visible against the dark red plaid. Normally he'd recoil and think about his lint-roller in the glovebox.

For the chance to kiss him?

“No, that's fine,” Jonathon insisted with a smile, placing his hand on the step between them.

I'm going to leave here with a dog and a boyfriend at this rate. Oh, God, if only he were so lucky. Well, for the second one... he didn't especially want the first.

Dylan rested his hand lightly over the back of Jonathon's and slid his fingers into the gaps between his fingers, turning towards him a little more until their knees brushed.

Night had fallen about an hour ago, so the streetlamps were on, but the street was otherwise dark, chilly, and quiet. He didn't mind the cool air, though; the warmth of the touch to his hand and knee kept him more than warm enough.

Jonathon smiled. “How was your day? What do you do for work? I don't think I ever asked. You just said you had to go work...”

“I'm a barista,” Dylan answered with a half-smile. “I've got training as a vet tech, but I couldn't get a job in town and I don't want to move yet, so I'm waiting until something comes up.”

Jonathon nodded. The warm, broad palm pressing against his hand was far too distracting. “Vet tech?” he questioned simply.

“We're the nurses of the veterinary world.”

“Ohhh.” Jonathon carefully turned his palm over to face up, and he was pleased when Dylan kept his hand there. Their palms pressed together as Dylan ran his thumb along the side of Jonathon's hand. “Good for you. I hope a vet hires you soon.”

“Me, too,” Dylan chuckled quietly, those wide blue eyes fixed on his with warmth and curiosity – more than a hint of attraction. “And you're in the mailroom? That's really cool.” xxx

“Yeah, it's all right.” The warm knee still pressed lightly against his, and he itched to run his hand along Dylan's leg.

“I used to idolize mailmen,” Dylan murmured with a small smile.

Jonathon grinned at this cute secret. “Really?”

“Mm. I'd wait by the door for the mailman to come by in the summer,” Dylan admitted with a laugh. “And I wanted to be a mailman when I grew up. Oh, God, that's kind of embarrassing...”

This time, it was Dylan blushing and looking away, his face turning almost the color of the red plaid he wore. He raised his other hand to press to his forehead as he laughed.

Jonathon's heart melted. “No, no, it's sweet,” he insisted. “You're talking to a mailman. Or, you know, mail supervisor. Something like that,” he grinned. “So, you know, I get it.”

“It gets worse,” Dylan admitted, managing to make eye contact for a few more moments before he was laughing too much and staring down at their hands instead. “When I found out about the Pony Express, I wanted to take riding lessons. That's what got me interested in animals, and then in being a vet... and then a vet tech...”

Jonathon smiled broadly as he murmured, “That's so sweet.” He was about to comment further but shivered slightly, the thin but fashionable black silk shirt he'd chosen not offering much protecting against the chilly March breeze.

“Are you cold? I'm sorry,” Dylan murmured, interrupting his train of thought. “I have a sweater inside you can have...”

Jonathon smiled to himself at Dylan's concern and shook his head. “I'm fine. You're keeping me warm anyway...” Heat crawled to his cock at the words. It was true: having Dylan next to him was making him hot in more than one way.

“I could keep you warmer,” Dylan offered, his husky voice suddenly quiet. His gaze was fixed steadily on Jonathon's now as he broached the distance between them by slowly leaning in and waiting for a moment.

Oh, yes. Jonathon was glad to accept the invitation, leaning halfway to press his lips to Dylan's.

The kiss was the sweetest fire between their warm lips, Dylan's hand instantly rising to cup his cheek until the tips of his fingers tangled in Jonathon's hair. Their noses bumped lightly as they shifted, breathing for a moment and tipping their heads so their lips would fit together even better the second time.

Warmth didn't so much crawl as flash through every part of Jonathon's body. He itched to slide his hand under Dylan's shirt, to shift and straddle Dylan's lap on the steps, to kiss him dirtily and hard until Dylan was moaning with lust...

But he reminded himself that they were in semi-public, and it wasn't even a proper date. The fact that his brain was screaming at him that this was the man for him... surely that meant nothing until they got to know each other better.

Jonathon's kiss with Dylan deepened as hands wandered over shoulders, sides, and backs. They kept it relatively tame at first, but their heavy breathing gave away their dirtier desires.

He wanted Dylan's hard body under his hands, Dylan's firm waist and flexible hips driving into him, Dylan's lips pressed to his neck as he crushed him into the bed, pinned him down with that gorgeous blue stare and fucked him...

Jonathon was rethinking his decision not to take it further by the time Dylan pulled back with a smile, his cheeks flushed and lips swollen from the wet, thorough kisses.

“I work early tomorrow. I should lock up soon,” Dylan murmured, and his intentions were clear. “If you wanted to give me that ride home...”

Good. He wants me as much as I want him, I think. At least, I hope. Jonathon nodded, adjusting his jeans as he stood up and offered Dylan a hand, too.

Dylan took his hand and didn't drop it once he'd stood up. “I've got to get home to walk Ruby, so... my place?”

Oh, God, yes.

“I'll come over. You need help walking your dog?” Jonathon answered with a sillier smile than he'd meant.

Dylan's eyes crinkled as he gave a broad smile. “If that's a euphemism...”

“No, no,” Jonathon laughed, but he squeezed Dylan's hand and swung it playfully nonetheless. “Like I said, your Ruby might teach me to like dogs...”

Dylan grinned. “Hopefully. It's worth a try.” He paused, took Jonathon's other hand, and leaned in to kiss him again. It was a slow, sweet kiss this time as they held hands, taking their time. “But if that was a euphemism,” Dylan murmured as he drew back, “I wouldn't mind.”

Jonathon's heart skipped a beat. He let go of Dylan's hands and instead ran his hands slowly down Dylan's sides with a bold smile. He was rewarded by Dylan leaning in for one more kiss before pulling back to lead him back into the shelter.

Jonathon's chest was still warm, his body hotter than ever for Dylan's. He wanted to lick along the rip in that plaid shirt, to pull open those light jeans and stretch them out a little more...

The phone on the desk rang, setting off a chorus of barks and yelps from the back. Jonathon flinched at the sudden noises, but he wasn't under threat. “Gonna get that?”

Dylan made a slight frustrated noise but nodded. He was clearly practiced at tuning out the noise as he swept around the desk and sat in the desk chair, picking up the phone. “Springfield Animal Shelter, how can I help?” Dylan's bright eyes flickered around distant points in the room as he listened.

Jonathon's heart sank at the way Dylan's eyes widened and flickered to his face. He tried to look neutral yet sympathetic.

“Okay, and where was this?”

Jonathon rubbed his hand along his cheeks and mouth, trying not to focus on the way Dylan's shirt pulled tight across his firm, muscled chest and almost revealed a hint of skin when he stretched to grab a notebook and pen.

“How long ago?”

Is someone reporting animal abuse? The phone call sounded like it was going that way. Jonathon wasn't the biggest guy in the world, but he bristled with the urge to kick the shit out of anyone who was doing harm.

“Thank you very much for letting us know. Can I get your name and number in case we need to follow up? Mmhmm. All right. With a Y or an I? Y, okay. Thank you,” Dylan bade and hung up. His blue eyes had hardened into a colder expression for a few moments.

“Is an animal hurt?”

Dylan shook his head. “Abandoned. My supervisor usually deals with those calls. Let me call her...”

“Oh, God,” Jonathon whispered. It was a bit of a mood-killer for the chemistry between them, but his eyes still lingered on Dylan, watching him speedily dial another number. Then, he hung up and tried again a few more times, pressing his thumb to his lips.

“They're not... they're not answering,” Dylan frowned, staring down at the paper before ripping it out of the notebook and folding it. “Okay, I need to get there, if the bus goes--”

“I've got a car,” Jonathon cut Dylan off, giving him a disbelieving stare.

Dylan's shoulders sank in relief as he quickly met Jonathon's gaze, distracted from his momentary panic. “Really?”

“I'm not gonna ditch you if we're not going to your place,” Jonathon assured him, walking around the desk to lean on the edge. “Let's go.”

As Jonathon approached, Dylan rose to his feet. Their chemistry wasn't gone after all; static electricity between them drew them together. They kissed by unspoken mutual agreement, their lips pressing together and slightly parted, the tips of their tongues teasing each other now.

“Thanks,” Dylan whispered after a few moments. “Sorry this interrupted. You can stay in the car if you're not comfortable. I'll sit in the back with it.” His hands wrapped around Jonathon's hips for a moment to keep him in place and brush another soft kiss over Jonathon's lips.

“I don't mind.” Before they grew too distracted, Jonathon pressed one more breathy kiss to those warm lips and pulled back. “C'mon, let's go rescue this animal. What kind of animal is it?”

“A dog. Medium puppy, apparently, but they didn't know what breed.”

As Dylan grabbed a bag with a few items and shut the shelter lights off, Jonathon led the way out to the car. It wasn't the night he'd been hoping for, but he couldn't imagine leaving Dylan to fend for himself rescuing an animal in the chilly March night without a car.

Besides, he'd get to see Dylan around animals, and so far, he'd proven endearingly adorable around them. Jonathon liked his naturally confident mannerisms around animals and humans alike. From what little he knew of him, he already saw himself dating this man – the first guy he'd wanted to properly see in years.

Jonathon shivered and started up the car, turning the heat up to full blast.

Chapter 6

“Which way? Left or right?”

“Uh, hold on.” Dylan juggled the scrap of paper and his smartphone. “I know it's right from here, but I don't know which way from Main Street.”

“I'll turn right then.” Jonathon double-checked his headlights before pulling out into the street.

The flirtation and sexual heat of a few minutes ago had taken the backseat now to their urgent mission: they had to find the abandoned puppy with very few details.

“Where was it? Is it running free?” Jonathon asked. He didn't want to accidentally hit the dog if it was loose on the road.

“No, the bastards left it in a cage with a “free” sign, apparently. I don't know why the fuck they thought a cage would help,” Dylan gritted, his husky voice dropping into a growl.

“Okay.” Not the right moment to get turned on.

“Right turn,” Dylan added after a moment.

Jonathon checked his shoulder and changed lanes, then turned onto Main Street to drive through the quiet business district to the other side of town. A few minutes later, they were on the street where the dog had been reported – a long, dark road with ditches on either side.

“Keep your eyes peeled,” Dylan murmured. “It's probably on the side of the road or in the ditch.”

Even though the dog was probably caged, Jonathon drove a good ten miles an hour under the speed limit, just in case.

It was surprisingly easy to spot the cage from a couple hundred feet away, but Jonathon still caught his breath with the thrill and relief of finding it. “There,” Jonathon sharply said to draw Dylan's attention.

“Oh, thank God we didn't have to search for it,” Dylan murmured. “Pull over nearby. Leave the headlights on. You got a flashlight in here?”

“In the gloveb--” Glovebox. Jonathon blushed.

When Dylan pulled the glovebox open, a Ziploc bag with a handful of condoms and individual trial-sized packs of lubricant flopped into view.

Dylan couldn't hide his grin as he glanced at Jonathon. “Sensible.”

“Actually, I... don't get out much anymore,” Jonathon admitted, leaning over to grab the flashlight himself and close the glove box. His side and arm brushed Dylan's knee along the way, and he resisted the urge to follow up on the surge of heat that went through him again.

Dylan opened the car door. “Me neither,” he said, his voice softer as he climbed out of the car.

Now wasn't the moment to follow up on that, either.

Jonathon followed Dylan out to the ditch, squinting into the cage that was lit up by headlights.

The dog in the cage was much smaller than the cage, and it was huddled in the corner away from the door. Its fur was thick and fluffy with a black coat, brown around its face and paws, and spots of white along its head and chest.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dylan greeted, his voice suddenly surprisingly light as he crouched next to the cage. When Jonathon took a step forward, Dylan gestured for him to stay back and held up one finger, so Jonathon waited before approaching further.

The puppy whined in the back of its throat, shifting from paw to paw. Jonathon swallowed hard as he realized that the metal cage under her paws had to be chilly in the night.

Dylan had the same thought: he put a hand on the bars and flinched, then drew a slow, deliberate breath. Jonathon knew he was trying to remain calm and not show any signs of anger to startle the puppy.

“Hey, little boy – or girl – little guy,” Jonathon spoke up when those fearful brown eyes landed on him instead.

The puppy whined and sidled forward.

“It likes you,” Dylan murmured, staying still. “Come here.”

Jonathon carefully stepped forward, tugging up his slim jeans to squat next to the cage. “C'mere, cutie. Dylan's here to help you. He's an expert.” He carefully put his fingers on the bars, watching as the puppy flinched backwards, then took another wavering step forward until it sniffed his hands a few times.

“It's a Bernese mountain dog, and... looks like German Shepherd,” Dylan murmured quietly as the collared dog investigated Jonathon.

“You're much nicer than the last German Shepherd I met,” Jonathon informed the puppy. He was pleased when a cold, wet nose pressed against his fingers in response.

“It doesn't seem like it's sick,” Dylan frowned. “And not ill-tempered. Might be untrained, or...” He glanced at the cage, which was lined with a blanket. There was a leash clipped to the top. “A family that had to move suddenly would be my bet.”

“Why not call you?” Jonathon frowned, wiggling his fingers further into the cage for the puppy to sniff and lick.

“Ashamed of it, or didn't have time, or they were trying to hide it...” Dylan lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “We might never know. I gotta get a few pictures of this though.” He backed up to take out his phone and take a few photos from different angles. “In case there's ever... a case.”

Jonathon stayed where he was, distracting the puppy from the flashes of the cellphone. “You're pretty, aren't you?” he hummed. “We're gonna get you out of there and make sure you're okay.”

“Yes, we will,” Dylan nodded, unclipping the leash.

The puppy's tail wagged and it nosed at the door as Dylan braced himself in front of the door to catch it if it escaped. Luckily, Dylan was easily able to catch it by its collar and clip the leash on. There was no tag or identifier on the collar, and the “Free” sign taped to the front of the cage made it clear that nobody was missing her.

“We'll take it straight to a vet,” Dylan hummed, carefully picking it up with a hand on either side of its ribs and looking it up and down. “I think she's a girl, but we'll find out for sure in proper lighting...”

“Of course she is,” Jonathon smiled, and the puppy whined and looked over at him. “Look at those pretty eyes.”

“She's very attached to you already,” Dylan marveled. “Rex didn't mind you, either. You're bringing all the dogs to your yard...”

Jonathon almost barked a laugh but caught himself and stifled it into a muffled chuckle instead. At this angle, he couldn't look straight at Dylan or be blinded by his own headlights, but he heard that teasing tone easily. “Ironic, since I don't want them in my yard.”

“Mmm.” Dylan scanned her as best he could in the headlights from the car, then nodded. “She seems healthy enough. Want to hold her over by the car while I load up the cage?”

Jonathon was already reaching out for the dog before he thought twice about it. What if she bites me? His hands shook lightly, and he hoped semi-darkness hid his nervousness.

His muscles were tense at first as he brought the dog gingerly closer to him, but the bundle of warmth in his arms wriggled against his chest. She was contented to be held by him.

“There you go,” Dylan encouraged, his hands staying on her until he was sure she was settled in his arms. Then, he slowly ran his hands down from her and across Jonathon's arms, tugging them together to provide her with a little more support. His hands covered Jonathon's for a moment and Jonathon lost his breath.

“Is the back unlocked?”

“Yeah,” Jonathon murmured, staying where he was with the puppy as Dylan easily hefted the cage and carried it over to the backseat, then fumbled until he got the hatch open and slid it inside. To Jonathon's trained eye, he knew the cage would fit, but only barely.

“It won't-- it just won't,” Dylan mumbled after a minute of clattering and scraping noises.

Jonathon smiled to himself, scanning the grass of the dry ditch to make sure they hadn't missed anything. When he was satisfied there wasn't anything left behind, he approached. “The other way.”

“What, like-- oh.” Dylan slid it neatly into the back and closed it again. “Thanks.”

“Being a mailman has its perks,” Jonathon teased. He grinned broadly when Dylan blushed and wordlessly headed for the backseat. “You can sit in the front.”

“Are you sure?”

“She's calm enough.” The dog had barely moved in Jonathon's arms except to stick her nose into his neck and armpit in search of warmth. He smiled at the thought of Dylan asking earlier if he minded getting dog hair on his shirt; it was much too late to worry about that now.

He waited for Dylan to climb in and settle down, then handed her over to him and closed the passenger side.

“Now, off to the vet.”

***

Dylan called an emergency vet while they drove to the vet clinic. By the time they arrived, the lights were on in the clinic, so Jonathon led the way and held the door for Dylan and the puppy as they brought her straight through the front door.

“Hello, Dylan,” greeted an older man with greying hair near the temples and a gentle expression who was waiting by the front counter. He looked tired but his eyes were alert. “Ah, here's our patient, and... someone new. I'm Dr. Lane.”

Jonathon immediately liked him. “Nice meeting you,” he answered as Dylan followed Dr. Lane straight into one of the examination rooms. He bit the tip of his tongue and shoved his hands into his pockets with worry as Dylan put the puppy on the tall examination table.

Dr. Lane worked quickly and professionally, first letting her sniff him before checking her over from eyes to tail. He confirmed Dylan's suspicion that the puppy was a female and a Bernese-German cross, then told them she was about four months old.

“She's very well-behaved,” Dylan remarked as they watched her head swivel around to take in their faces. She didn't like being prodded, but no animal would, Jonathon guessed.

“Probably semi-trained,” Dr. Lane agreed. “A little malnourished and she needs to put on a bit more weight, but she's in good health otherwise. No microchip, unfortunately. But she hasn't been out of a household for long.”

“Just abandoned tonight or today, then,” Dylan murmured. There was no hint of a dimple under those beautifully high cheekbones, his expression solid and twisted into faint anger.

The puppy whined and wagged her tail, ducking her head.

“Sh, you're upsetting her,” Jonathon scolded, moving closer to the table and beckoning her closer. “Come here.” She immediately came, pressing her face into his hand.

“They get along fine, don't they?” Dr. Lane asked Dylan.

“I know! First moment she saw him, she fell for him.” When Jonathon glanced up, those blue eyes were fixed on his. Dylan's expression was etched in quiet admiration. “Can't blame her.”

Jonathon's heart raced.

“He does have a gentle way with her,” Dr. Lane agreed, glancing at him. “Do you have a lot of experience with dogs?”

It was all he could do to smile politely while in Dr. Lane's presence. “Er, no, actually. Funny you should say that.”

“Well, you're doing well with her,” Dr. Lane concluded as he closed her file. “Are you bringing her back to the shelter tonight?”

Dylan's lips drew down in a little frown. “We're full, actually. We've been fostering out new dogs on a month-at-a-time basis. I can probably find one--”

“I'll do it.”

It didn't surprise Jonathon that he'd said so without even taking a moment to think about it. From the first moment that cold nose had pressed into his fingers, he'd melted.

One on-edge dog who had been trained for aggression and unpredictable violence didn't mean this sweet, sleepy puppy would turn out the same. She already watched him like he was the best thing in the world, and... well, his house was quiet when he came home at night.

“Well, we offer foster parents vaccination and spay/neuter discounts,” Dr. Lane was telling him, but Jonathon had almost tuned him out.

The puppy was restless and trying to lick his chin, and Jonathon was grinning as he strained his neck and head away from her. Her breath was terrible, but it made him laugh.

“Okay,” Jonathon answered the vet, meeting those wide brown eyes peering up at him from his arms. “She wants to get home now.”

When he looked at Dylan for confirmation, the blue eyes he could lose himself in were warm and affectionate. “All right, let's get her to your place.”

Jonathon's cheeks grew hot as he nodded his thanks to the vet and they said goodbye. It was half past nine and all three men were eager to get home, too.

Especially him and Dylan.

When Dylan was in the passenger seat and he leaned down to pass the puppy back to him, he was surprised at a hand cupping his cheek and pulling him close for a slow, sweet kiss. Even at this awkward angle, the chemistry made Jonathon struggle to breathe.

After a few long moments, her whine distracted them both from the kiss and they pulled apart, chuckling quietly.

“Thanks for offering to take her,” Dylan murmured.

Jonathon shrugged. “Least I can do,” he told Dylan, closing his door and walking around to the driver's side door for the drive home.

Once Jonathon pulled out onto the street, he reached sideways after a quick sideways glance. His foster puppy's paw was on Dylan's leg, so Jonathon rested his palm on top of it. Warm tingles came from every fingertip that rested on Dylan's knee and the heel of his hand pressed against Dylan's thigh.

He felt Dylan smiling at him, but he kept his eyes on the road.

Chapter 7

As Jonathon showed Dylan and the puppy into his modest suburban bungalow, he'd never been so glad he kept a clean house.

“Cute place,” Dylan approved with a smile. “Do you have a backyard?”

“Yeah, the door's right through there.”

“Great. Where's the bedroom?”

“Down the hall over there.”

“We'll put the cage in the living room here, then,” Dylan said with a nod. “Hopefully she's well-trained. She was pretty quiet for the car ride. But she probably needs to go outside before we settle her down... is the back door unlocked?”

Jonathon's head spun with all the details Dylan was taking care of. “No, turn the lock and it'll unlock. I'll go get the cage.”

“Thanks.” Dylan gave him another smile and headed outside with the new puppy.

With a moment alone to think about what he'd done, Jonathon shook his head. He'd never thought of getting a dog before, but it wasn't just wanting to impress Dylan: this puppy seemed like she'd be a sweet, normal dog.

More company at night, especially if he was single for much longer, was welcome. Of course, any boyfriends would have to be okay with dogs...

He roused himself from his thoughts and the way they strayed to Dylan by striding out to the car to get the cage into the house, set it up, and line the bottom with spare towels and blankets on one side, old newspapers on the other side.

“You're a natural,” Dylan greeted him as he finished tugging the blankets on one side into a little nest.

Jonathon, still crouched by the cage, heard the puppy trotting across the floor on her leash towards him and grinned. “I know the basics,” he insisted, ruffling her fur and stroking her lightly as she pressed her nose into him again and sidled sideways up to him to throw her weight against him. “I think it's bedtime for you, little lady,” he told her in his best firm, fatherly voice.

To his surprise and relief, she trotted willingly into her cage. She went to investigate, then flop onto, the blankets.

“She wasn't in it for long enough to hate it. Wow,” Dylan murmured as he wrapped the leash around his hand, then put the bundle on top of the cage. He crouched next to Jonathon as he slid the door shut. “Thought of a name yet?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” Dylan smiled. “She needs a name, and if you're fostering her for at least a month...”

“Amber.”

Dylan laughed. “That was quick.”

“I don't... I don't know where that came from,” Jonathon admitted, reaching up to twist a lock of his hair in a shy move and keeping his eyes on her as she settled down and closed her eyes.

When he glanced at Dylan, Dylan wore that same fond expression as he had at the vet's. “It's a good name.”

Now that Amber had put herself to bed, worn out by her day, the men's attention was drawn to each other like they'd never been interrupted.

“D'you wanna wash up?” Jonathon murmured.

Dylan grinned, his eyes wandering down to the V of Jonathon's shirt, which had the top two buttons undone. Jonathon had even rolled up his sleeves to put the blankets and papers into the cage, and Dylan's gaze didn't miss that. “Yeah,” he agreed simply.

Jonathon wordlessly rose to his feet. He offered Dylan a hand to lead him to his bedroom and ensuite bathroom.

He switched off the living room lights but left one on for Amber, leaving her to sleep contentedly in the living room, her paw over her nose.

Chapter 8

“I could stay the night to make sure Amber's settled in and you're okay with her.”

Jonathon smiled as he closed the master bedroom door, giving Dylan a moment to take in the spacious room. The dark hardwood floor in the large room contrasted the white furniture and light walls, making the room airy even at night. He had white sheets, a light green accent throw, and a mix of white and green pillowcases on the bed.

Dylan's gaze skipped over all the finer details of his interior decoration – the carefully-selected art, the trinkets on bookcases, even the chest at the foot of the bed – to turn back to him.

“Are you sure that's all you want to do overnight?” Jonathon teased, walking into ensuite bathroom. Before he even turned on the light, a warm body pressed behind him and his body lit up with the thrill of finally being touched – held from behind – by that gorgeous man.

Dylan's lips pressed into the crook of his neck for a moment as Jonathon's heart raced. Muscled arms circled around his chest and stomach, and the heat of Dylan's body pressed up along his back.

“Not even close,” Dylan answered, his voice soft as he lipped the rim of Jonathon's ear.

Jonathon moaned, leaning back into Dylan as he let him hold him tightly.

His body was hard and firm behind him, and Jonathon wanted it pressed all along him with his front on the bed.

First, though, a shower.

“Let's get clean,” Jonathon murmured. “I feel gross.”

“You held a dog for all of ten minutes.”

“I've never held one before! And she licked my chin,” Jonathon groaned. A deep laugh rumbled through Dylan's chest and stomach in answer to his complaint. Dylan wasn't going to indulge him in a bit of drama.

“Oh, what a tragedy,” Dylan teased, his hands rising to rub up along Jonathon's stomach to his chest. By the time they reached his throat, Jonathon had almost forgotten his attempt at complaining and was about ready to bend over the counter.

He wanted Dylan inside, fucking him hot and fast and knocking all his styling products off the counter and pounding him until the mirror rattled...

But instead, Dylan unbuttoned the thin black silk shirt, letting one hand slip in between open fabric when he had enough room to run his palms along Jonathon's pecs and then his ribcage. Dylan even let his fingertips graze and circle around the nipple.

Jonathon's cock pressed hard against his skinny jeans, the tightness a thrill of its own. He ached to feel bare skin against his own.

He twitched, reaching over to turn on the bathroom light and blinking at the sudden brightness. He was greeted with the sight of his own bare chest and Dylan's hand running along it, his other hand unfastening the last button before smoothly rubbing down across his stomach.

Jonathon pushed his hips forward to grind against the counter, watching Dylan's smile in the mirror as the reflection of Dylan's eyes raised to meet his.

“You like watching?” Dylan whispered in a rough growl that made heat throb through Jonathon's cock.

“Yeah... but... shower...”

“If you insist,” Dylan murmured and lowered his lips to graze along Jonathon's bare shoulder. His hand dropped to unfasten the button on Jonathon's jeans and slide the zipper down, his hand barely brushing over the bulge in his pants before Dylan pulled it away.

Even that tease was enough to make the breath catch in Jonathon's throat. He moaned with protest when Dylan pulled his body away enough to grab his t-shirt and tug it over his head in one clean motion.

Holy shit, he's gorgeous.

There was no denying the chemistry before, but now, it was all Jonathon could do not to climb Dylan and ride him on the countertop. His pecs were well-defined curves that led into a smooth chest and stomach. The dark treasure trail of fuzz crept up the center of his abs, and Jonathon was blatantly stepping aside to get out of the way to ogle Jonathon in the mirror.

Dylan grabbed one of Jonathon's hands and guided it to his waistband, and Jonathon twisted until he was back-on to the mirror, his butt almost up on the countertop.

Facing Dylan, it was much easier for Jonathon to run his hands up along the denim loosely covering Dylan's thighs until he reached the bulge between his legs. He fumbled at the zipper as he pulled Dylan's jeans off as fast as humanly possible, hooking and dragging down his underwear with his fingertips as he went.

Dylan's cock bobbed free and he was halfway hard already as the head brushed against Jonathon's chest. Jonathon was sidling down to the ground with Dylan's jeans, but he didn't pull them down enough for him to step out of yet.

His jeans still open, Jonathon knelt on the tile of the bathroom floor, trapped between Dylan's strong thighs and the bathroom counter.

“Mm,” Dylan moaned, his hands immediately tangling in the hair at the back of Jonathon's head. The view up along his thighs, covered in thick, dark hair, his flat stomach and strong chest, the bulge of arm muscles that could lift him up and throw him onto the bed...

Best of all was the sight of those intense blue eyes burning into him with lust.

Jonathon wasted no time bringing his hand to the base of that thick cock. As it stiffened, it grew in his hand. Fuck, growers are fun, he thought as he wrapped his lips around the tip of the round head and darted his tongue out in a lick along the slit.

Salty, musky, dark, velvety, rock-hard pleasure.

Jonathon moaned quietly, the vibrations making Dylan's thighs twitch for a moment, then bobbed his head slowly down the length. It stiffened the rest of the way in his mouth as he kept one hand wrapped around the base of that long, thick cock and bobbed his head down.

“Oh, yeah,” Dylan whispered, his voice hoarse as he rubbed the undercut portion of Jonathon's scalp with a thumb. The grazed touch along closely-cropped hair was the best kind of petting to Jonathon, but he tried not to nuzzle into Dylan's hand yet. Dylan would discover that after sex.

Dylan freed his other hand from Jonathon's hair and rubbed his palm along his shoulder and upper arm, then up along the top of his back and the back of his neck.

After a couple more dips of his head, Jonathon had nearly the full length sliding in and out, his lips hitting his curled fingers with each quick sucking bob.

The weight and warmth in his mouth was divine, and Dylan twitched and shifted on his feet under the attention as he swirled his tongue hard around the head, then bobbed and sucked harder a few more times.

“I'm not gonna... last long...” Dylan warned, his voice broken already with pleasure.

We've got a long shower. You can recover in time for more.

“Mmm,” Jonathon acknowledged him in a quiet moan, only speeding up his pace as he brought his other hand up to rub slowly along Dylan's inner thigh, teasing the dark, rough, curly hairs. He cupped Dylan's balls and squeezed lightly.

After another minute, he let the cock head pop out from his lips and licked down the length towards the sac, drawing it between his lips for a few moments to gently – gently, he reminded himself, keeping his lips around his teeth – suck and let his tongue run between Dylan's balls.

“Oh, you're fuckin' good, you tease...”

Jonathon smirked and let go again, running his tongue up that seam once more before licking up from the base of the cock to the tip and smoothly bobbing his head down again.

He only got to swallow that delicious, thick cock a couple more times before Dylan stiffened and let go of the back of his head. “I-- Jon, I--”

He can call me Jon if he wants. Jonathon was almost deliriously happy with the way Dylan roughly panted, his hips pushing forward despite his best efforts as his balls drew tight, his whole stomach clenching, and then--

Sticky, salty passion coated his tongue and throat as Dylan's hips shuddered forward into him. He kept the suction tight and wet, letting his tongue lap at the head between thrusts to thoroughly coat his tongue in the addictive stuff.

Jonathon gazed up the length of Dylan's hot body as he swallowed, his fingers still wrapped around the base of his cock and stroking it to milk him. He slid his other hand down his own thigh to rub his bulge a few times, moaning quietly at how flushed with heat he was.

When Dylan softened, he pulled his cock slowly out from between Jonathon's flushed lips, staring down at the sight for a few moments with his lips parted as he tried to catch his breath. His cheeks were a beautiful, flushed pink, and even those normally attentive blue eyes were distant with pleasure.

“Jesus Christ, you're good,” Dylan whispered, which made Jonathon abruptly grin. He pushed Dylan back a pace so he had room to rise to his feet again and face the sink.

“You don't have to brush to kiss me,” Dylan murmured, one arm slipping around his bare torso to press the length of his forearm up the middle of Jonathon's body until his hand wrapped around his shoulder.

Jonathon loved having the warm body behind him again as he shook his head. “I want to.”

“Is that another cleanliness thing for you?”

“Yes.”

Dylan chuckled deeply and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, then drew back enough to work Jonathon's jeans down to the ground and help him step out while Jonathon quickly brushed his teeth for a fresh, minty taste in his mouth.

He liked swallowing and the aftertaste, but he didn't like it lingering when he was kissing, and he intended to romance Dylan.

He blushed.

Kiss Dylan.

As he bent over to rinse out his mouth, Dylan's soft cock ground right between his cheeks with a lazy thrust or two and a slow, circular roll of his hips. His own firm length was brushing the counter at this angle, and he blushed at how hard he was for not even having been touched.

He couldn't help it: Dylan fucking turned him on.

Dylan groped him a little, running his palm and fingers across the manhood before shifting his hold to his hips. Once Jonathon's mouth was rinsed out, Dylan steered him over to the shower.

Jonathon barely registered Dylan turning on the shower, obediently waiting to be pushed inside.

As steam rose from the shower head and fogged up the glass, Dylan closed the shower door behind them, trapping him in the stall with him and reaching out to run his hands along Jonathon's now-wet body.

Jonathon moaned shamelessly and pressed back against Dylan as Dylan directed his cock into the shower's spray. The extra droplets of water hitting and heating up the already-flushed and throbbing skin made his thighs twitch. Dylan circled one strong arm around his waist to make sure he was steady on his feet, then reached out with his other to pump soap over his hand and rub his chest.

Jonathon lost himself in the moment as the broad, warm palm wandered from shoulder to shoulder, down his chest and stomach, along his sides and thighs, and even along his back when Dylan pulled back a little.

Dylan was relentless in sensually soaping up and rinsing off every part of him, until even parts he didn't know could be erotic tingled at the touches.

“C'mon, you gotta help me out here,” Jonathon finally groaned with a breathless laugh, rolling his head back against Dylan's shoulder. The steam rose to the top of the shower stall and he was half-dizzy with heat.

A warm, soapy, wet palm closed around his aching cock, and finally he had the tight grip he'd been aching for.

Jonathon thrust his hips hard, his cock head pushing out from the circle of fingers into the stream of water with each thrust as Dylan's hand rubbed his shaft hard. The other hand wandered up to his nipples, tweaking and pinching and even rolling them slightly until little throbs of pain and pleasure made his stomach and thighs tense... or perhaps that was the hand rubbing his release out.

Oh, God, and he wasn't going to be able to last even as long he'd hoped--

Jonathon came with a cry, his own juices splattering against the shower wall as he pushed his cock into the tight, wet, warm circle of fingers around it. The steadiness of the hard, muscled body braced behind him helped him fully relax into the moment, certain that he'd be safe even if he slipped.

He entrusted Dylan with his pleasure and his safety without a second thought.

As Jonathon's thrusts and breathing slowed again and he came to, he shook his head wordlessly. “Jesus is right...”

“And that wasn't even my mouth,” Dylan teased, pressing his lips to Jonathon's shoulder for a few long moments before he pulled away as Jonathon regained his footing.

Jonathon blushed and nodded. “Yeah. Not even.” He rinsed down the shower wall and shampooed his hair, skipping the rest of his hair care regimen as Dylan scrubbed himself off.

Even stepping out of the steamy stall into the coolness of the bathroom didn't cool him down as he let his eyes wander along the gleaming Adonis of a figure who followed him out.

“Straight to bed?” Dylan suggested with a grin, grabbing a towel from the shelf nearby and tossing it over to him.

Jonathon caught it and grinned. “Of course.”

They each toweled quickly and silently, rubbing their hair down hard until it was only damp and letting the towel do a few passes along the breadth of their bodies.

Dylan was watching Jonathon dry off as intently as Jonathon watched him, and Jonathon already felt the tingle of arousal in his belly again.

By the time they hit the bed together, tossing their towels to the side and pressing damp, warm skin together, Jonathon was moaning in pleasure and need.

They'd each enjoyed each other once, but they wanted more.

Jonathon wanted Dylan's cock in him, and he wanted it now.

Dylan ground against him, their bodies surging with heat and need as thighs slotted between thighs, nipples hardened, and breathing quickened.

Those blue eyes were always fixed on him, always watching and measuring how much he liked it. What was the dark-haired beauty thinking?

“You have condoms close at hand at home as well as in your car?”

Of course it would be that.

Jonathon blushed and nodded, squirming enough to reach under the bed and yank out a box. He pulled out a couple of condoms and a full-sized tube of lubricant this time, tossing them on the bed next to them.

“The travel size ones are only for the road?”

“Oh, God, please don't,” Jonathon moaned his embarrassment and raising both his hands to his face. He startled a laugh out of Dylan, who leaned down to press his lips in little kisses along his throat and jaw, all the way around the hands Jonathon hid behind.

“It's smart. You're mature and stable and sensible,” Dylan murmured. “And I like that in a guy.”

Jonathon pulled his hands down, dragging them across his stubbly cheeks before raising them to cup the back of Dylan's head and pull him close until their lips pressed and slid.

The kiss was hot and wet as their cocks throbbed to life again, Dylan's hardness already pressing into one of Jonathon's damp, warm thighs.

Jonathon didn't want to waste a second. He freed his hands, still straining up into the kiss to make sure Dylan didn't even think about pulling away from it. Dylan's tongue was sliding between his lips, though, so he had little to worry about. His eyes closed, he groped for the tube of lubricant, then awkwardly raised it above Dylan's back to open it before encircling his back with an arm and squeezing it onto his fingers.

“Mm!” Dylan approved, figuring out exactly what he was doing. He scooted a little further down to leave enough room between their bodies. Jonathon slid his hand between his own thighs and angled his fingers to get them up in himself.

“Oh, God,” Jonathon whispered, rolling his head back against the pillows as his wet fingers slid into the tightness.

“You're fucking beautiful,” Dylan whispered, and his voice was pure awe.

Jonathon's cheeks were hot, but they had been since the shower so he couldn't tell if he was blushing. The sincerity of the words was overwhelming.

It went unsaid between them yet that this wasn't a one-night stand. He'd had far less sweet and tender sex and far less red-hot and passionate sex in all-out relationships before.

His chemistry with Dylan was off the charts.

He moaned as he slid his fingers as far inside as he could reach at this angle, pumping them in and out a few times and seeking out his prostate. He rubbed the small nub as he swelled with pleasure, his cock already hardening between their bodies, until he flinched and moaned.

Jonathon opened his eyes for a minute to watch Dylan's reactions. His eyes wandered up and down Jonathon's body as if he were memorizing it, and he even drew his torso up enough to watch those fingers before leaning down again to kiss Jonathon.

When waves of heat strong enough to make his body clench swept through him, Jonathon knew he had to stop, he just didn't want to...

Dylan's hand gently closed around his wrist to encourage him to pull his fingers out. “Next time,” Dylan promised in a whisper.

Next time.

Jonathon gasped already, his toes curling into the bed as he spread his knees wide. Dylan was tearing open the condom packet, not hesitating for a second to roll the smooth length out onto his throbbing cock.

“Yeah...!” Jonathon grunted with pleasure as soon as a thick tip pressed at his entrance. Dylan was fucking huge, but he was wet and ready for him.

The small, shuddery thrusts Dylan first gave forced the round tip through the tightest ring, then smoothly on inside until the shaft sank deeper and deeper into him...

And Jonathon sank deeper and deeper into ecstasy. Dylan's name was the only one on his mind or lips.

“Y-Yes...! Oh, fuck, you're huge,” Jonathon breathed out, staring at Dylan with parted lips as his head spun. It was almost painful, but not quite: the immense pleasure of the way his cock jammed against his prostate far outweighed any other sensation right now. He'd already been so close to the edge that he was desperate for movement, desperate to be pounded into the bed... “Please,” Jonathon added in a moan.

Dylan took his begging cue and pressed his torso hard against Jonathon's, blanketing his body with the whole weight of his hot, muscled body and pushing his cock in as deep as possible before pulling almost all the way out.

In and out, he slammed into Jonathon's tight body until Jonathon's cock throbbed with desire, trapped between the tightness of their stomachs.

“Oh, you're incredible. So fucking good,” Dylan moaned, surging against and into him with his own animalistic need written clear as day on his face.

Jonathon turned his head enough to kiss Dylan hard, running his hands down that back and digging his nails in.

“Nngh!” Dylan moaned his approval and kissed back, their lips, tongues, even teeth clashing with the passion that burned through them both.

Jonathon didn't even have to force his hand between their hot bodies towards his own cock – the relentless pounding across his prostate was enough, together with the pressure between their tight stomachs against his cock. His body throbbed in warning one last time before he tripped over the edge of orgasm and sank into bliss.

“Dylan...!” the cry tore out of his throat with all the raw passion he could muster, and Dylan's hips slammed a few final times into him. Dylan moaned Jonathon's name close to his ear, his lips pressed hard into his neck, his cock pushing as hard and deep as possible for a few last thrusts.

They collapsed together, breathing raggedly as the world spun around them from the heat and exertion. Jonathon's throat was parched, but he still managed to lick his lips enough to press them to Dylan's for gentler, sweeter kisses.

He rolled onto his side as Dylan kissed him back, each of them resting a hand on each other's side as they pecked each other's lips playfully.

Dylan's hand rose to slowly rub up his back before resting between his shoulder blades possessively.

Next time.

Jonathon had the feeling “next time” wasn't far away.

Epilogue

“Ruby, be good.”

Jonathon heard a deep chuckle answer his scolding tone, and the slide of the porch door behind him opening and closing. A second later, Dylan's strong arm slid around him from behind, chin propped on his shoulder.

Dylan held a coffee mug in each hand, one of which he handed over.

“Thanks,” Jonathon murmured, taking the mug he was offered. He brought the steaming coffee mug to his lips for a sip. The strong morning drink helped jolt him to a gentle wakefulness, as if the cool winter air creeping up between his slippers and the bottoms of his pajama pants wasn't enough.

The dogs were tangled in the yard again, and Ruby was pinned down in a playful pounce by Amber. Even at a year old, Amber was bigger than Ruby and she held the golden retriever down for a few moments before bounding off to let her give chase again.

“Ruby still thinks she's bigger and tougher,” Dylan chuckled gently, transferring his mug from the arm around Jonathon to his spare hand and raising his chin enough to take a sip.

“Mmm,” Jonathon hummed his agreement, swaying back gently into the hold. He turned his head to meet those beautiful blue eyes over his shoulder, and a smile curved his lips. “What time is it?”

“Twenty minutes before I have to leave. Traffic to the Park shouldn't be bad; Sunday drivers are mellow.”

Jonathon nodded. “Are they almost done painting?”

“What, are you volunteering to help?” Dylan teased, his eyes crinkling with amusement – probably at the thought of Jonathon trying to pick something from his closet he wouldn't mind getting paint on.

Jonathon clicked his tongue and swayed back a little more into Dylan. “Maybe,” he grinned, their familiar chemistry already sparking to life again as he let his eyes wander down to those pink, perfect lips. “How about you call them in for breakfast and come help me choose what I'd wear if I were to come help?”

Dylan leaned in to press their lips together, then let his hands slide away from Jonathon. Jonathon smirked and sauntered into the house, his hips swishing a little more as Dylan took another sip from his mug to wet his mouth. He heard Dylan whistle behind him in a certain tune that wasn't how they usually called the dogs.

He tipped his head back as a laugh escaped him. “You're always cheeky,” Jonathon chided.

He wasted no time leaving his mug on the kitchen counter and heading further back into the house. As the dogs clattered into the kitchen and their food rattled into their dishes, Jonathon heard footsteps behind him at the base of the stairs.

“Good thing you love it,” Dylan murmured in that rough growl.

He paused to wait for Dylan to catch up, reaching down to offer him a hand. When Dylan took it, Jonathon laced their fingers together and didn't hesitate to tug him upstairs towards their bedroom.

Jonathon winked when he caught Dylan's gaze. “Good thing I love you.”

Thanks for reading!

Thank you for reading Taking Shelter. I hope you enjoyed it!

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