Take Me Home, Numb3rs, NC-17
May. 13th, 2008 09:37 pmFandom: Numb3rs
Pairing/Characters: Colby Granger/Charlie Epps, Don Epps, mentions of others
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3221
Summary: Charlie's new found popularity has a down side. A serious one. When a secret admirer snatches Charlie, practically out from under Colby's nose, it changes everything.
A/Ns & Warnings: Not much in the way of wanrings. Near non-con, schloompy comfort after. For
auryn_wren and
devon99 Who are celebrating birthdays today...well...it's still today here! Hope it was great you two! Also, I have no Numb3rs icons. I need a Charlie/Colby icon...and a birthday icon.
Charlie was confident that his brother would find him. That his team would figure it out, even if it had taken Charlie actually waking up here to even start to understand that he was in trouble.
Trouble that came with restraints and blindfolds and a raging headache from a blow to the back of the head, plus maybe drugs. His tongue felt thick and his mouth tasted funny.
“I’m sorry it had to be this way.” The voice was back…though where it had gone for the last little while, Charlie couldn’t guess. “You know I don’t want to hurt you.”
“No, actually…No, I don’t know that at all.” Charlie said, trying to follow the footsteps as the person moved around him. Everything was foggy. He’d never seen the person, didn’t remember anything.
He remembered having dinner with Colby after wrapping up a case. They’d talked, had a beer, and then Colby had dropped Charlie off at home. The last thing he remembered was waving goodbye and opening the front door.
“Who was he?” The voice was cold, sinister.
“Who?” Charlie asked, turning his head toward the sound.
“The man you were with. I saw you together. He touched you.”
Charlie frowned. “Colby?”
“You let him touch you.” Suddenly the voice was so close Charlie could feel the man’s breath on his lips. “You let him touch you.”
Charlie tried to pull back, pull away, but the chair he was bound to wasn’t budging. There was a hand on his face, sliding over his chin, up to cup his cheek. “But I have you now. He’ll never touch you again.”
His head was scrambling to catch up. Colby. He’d patted Charlie’s back, they’d bumped legs under the table. He shook his head. He had bigger things to worry about.
“You should know my brother is an FBI agent.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about him.” The man was moving away. “He’s not going to find us. He won’t keep us apart.”
“Apart? Us? Who are you?”
There was silence for a long time. “I’m disappointed. I thought by now you’d know. I wrote you so many letters.”
Fan mail. Charlie groaned inwardly. He had never expected that reaction to his publishing success. Mountains of it.
“I get a lot of letters.” His head was starting to pound.
It was quiet again. Too quiet. He listened, straining for a sign that his captor was still there, still watching. Letters. Through the pounding radiating up from the base of his neck, Charlie vaguely recalled a letter he had read, filled with intimate wordings and gushing praise. It had bothered him, but he’d never sorted out why.
That was before the sheer volume had prevented him from reading every letter. “Hello?”
“We’re done talking right now. I need time to think about forgiving you.” Fingers shoved something into his mouth, wrapped cloth tightly around his head to hold the gag in.
They would find him. They would find him. He kept repeating it to himself. He was confident. Petrified, but confident.
Colby growled at his cell phone. He’d lost the call, lost the car…he’d lost Charlie. He closed his eyes and forced himself to focus. He’d gotten through to Don, told him what he’d seen.
Only truthfully, he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d seen.
He’d watched Charlie walk up to his door, waited while he unlocked it. When Charlie waved, Colby backed out of the drive way, but when he looked back, Charlie was gone.
The door was ajar, and Charlie was gone.
Colby had pulled up at the curb, called out to Charlie, and when there was no answer, called Charlie’s cell phone. It rang from the bushes near the door. That was when he saw the car. It was parked up near the house, where he wouldn’t see it from the road. It roared to life and flew out of the driveway, leaving Colby scrambling for his car, his phone in his hand.
It took him three calls to reach Don, careening through the streets following the car, still not even sure Charlie was in it. He was running on instinct. Don had gone to the house. The door was open and Charlie was no where to be seen. The call had dropped before Don could tell him what he wanted Colby to do.
He was up in the hills now, winding roads that fed private properties and cut off cell reception every twenty feet.
While he’d been juggling the phone, he’d lost sight of the car.
That had been nearly two hours ago. He’d backtracked, checked some of the side streets and drives, but there was no sign of the beat up black Lincoln. Colby inhaled deeply and looked around him one more time. This was where they’d disappeared.
For just a minute he couldn’t breathe. Charlie’s face filled his mind…that shy smile, the curly hair, the fire that filled Colby’s palm when he’d touched his back. There was something about Charlie that changed everything Colby Granger ever knew about attraction.
And Charlie was in trouble. Colby could feel it in his gut. He didn’t want to leave him out here alone, but he knew his best bet in finding him was to get to a place with cell phone reception and call in backup.
Charlie was fairly certain that he hadn’t been properly asleep. Sleep was difficult sitting upright in an uncomfortable chair with your hands bound behind you and your feet tied to the legs, your mouth stuffed with a foul tasting rag, that he imagined now in retrospect had probably been how the drugs had gotten into his system to begin with.
Still, he’d dreamed. At first he was buried under a landslide of mail…lost in the dark…then it had been Don coming to save him…but when his hand connected it was Colby that pulled him to safety…Colby who held him while he shook.
“He’s not coming for you.” The voice was back, in his ear.
Charlie swallowed, grimacing at the taste.
“You’re with me now.”
The hand was back, stroking over his face, loosening the gag. Charlie was still working the stiffness from his jaw when the man kissed him. There was a hand behind his head, holding him while his mouth covered Charlie’s, while his tongue invaded Charlie’s mouth.
He wanted to protest, say something, but his words were all stuck on fear and rage in the back of his mind.
“I knew you’d feel the same, once I took you away from all the distractions.”
Charlie licked his lips. “Distractions?”
“Those men…they all act like they own you, pulling you every which way.”
Charlie shook his head. “No…they’re my friends.”
Something cold touched his arm. Charlie stiffened, stilled. “They want to control you, Charlie.” There was the sound of ripping. The cold touch of a blade ghosting over his skin as his shirt was cut off of him. “They think they own you…and you let them…let them tell you what to do and let them touch you…but you love me, I know you do. I just have to show you how much.”
This was insane. His hands were gliding over Charlie’s chest now, rubbing against nipples that reacted to the cold and the hands.
“What…what makes you believe I love you?” Charlie asked softly.
The hands left him, then he was slapped hard across his right cheek, rocking the chair.
“You dedicated your book to me. Told me you loved me, said you couldn’t have done it without me.”
Charlie cleared his throat. “You…you’re Larry?” He’d dedicated the book to Larry, for the support and mentoring and all of their years together.
The tone of the voice changed, softened. “I knew you got my letters…I knew you’d know who I was.”
Charlie felt the knife again, dragging up the denim of his jeans, “We’re connected Charlie…you and me…and I’m going to make this special…you’ll see…”
“Special?” Charlie got a funny feeling he wasn’t going to like figuring out exactly what that meant.
“Just relax.” The knife cut through whatever was binding his legs to the chair and a hand pulled him up. “It’s easier if you relax.”
“What’s easier?” Charlie asked, getting a pretty damn good idea when the hand that had been under his arm moved down to cup his groin. “I mean…hey…I just…stop.”
He was off balance, pulled up against a strong chest and he could feel the knife against his skin. His bound hands pressed against the man’s groin, against an unmistakable hardness. “Easy, it won’t hurt. I’ll be gentle.”
“I…I’m sure…I mean…I’ve…I’ve never…” Charlie shook his head. He had to stall him. Give Don more time. “I can’t.”
“Shh…” His lips kissed over Charlie’s shoulders while his hand stroked over Charlie’s cock. “I like that I’ll be your first.”
The knife slide down, into the waistband of his jeans. Charlie started, moving forward involuntarily. The sound of denim ripping made it worse. Charlie was panicking. He stumbled away, bare feet banging against furniture.
“Stop. Please just stop.” Charlie’s shoulder smacked into the wall and he curled into it, even as a hand slid into his hair, fisting and pulling him back.
His jeans were slipping from his hips and the panic was pounding through his veins. “I don’t want to hurt you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t.”
Something pricked his arm and he was turned, back to the wall, arm across his throat. “What…what was that?”
“Just something to help you relax.”
“I don’t want to relax. I want to go home.”
He could feel the drug already working, making it’s way through his system, slowing him down. The one arm stayed tight against his throat, keeping him pinned to the wall, but the other was caressing his skin. “Easy…I’m going to make you see that it’s me you want.”
Colby had a sick feeling in his stomach as he glanced at his watch. Charlie had been gone for nearly twenty-four hours. They were searching every home, garage, dog house, barn and cave in the area where Colby lost them, but they were stretched thin.
He approached his latest cabin cautiously. It was old, dilapidated. It looked like something forgotten. He was fairly certain no one had stepped foot here in decades.
Until his eye caught on a glint of metal. He circled to his right, through a stand of trees.
The Lincoln.
Colby lifted his radio. “This is Granger. I’ve got something.”
“Hold up. Do not engage.” Don’s voice was tight. He was anxious, something Colby understood.
Colby eyed the car. There was a back door to the cabin, and windows. He moved, low to the ground and out of the line of sight, sidling up to the wall and inching toward a window.
“See? I’m good to you, Charlie. You belong with me.” Colby couldn’t see clearly. He got a glimpse of Charlie’s hair, skin. The setting sun made it hard to make out details, glaring off the window.
“Please…don’t…” Charlie’s voice was slurred, plaintive.
He couldn’t wait for Don. He exhaled and pulled his gun, moving toward the door. Something crashed to the floor inside, then there was a thud against the door. Colby reached for the door, wrenching it open. Charlie stumbled out, blindfolded and bound, falling into him and they tumbled into the dirt.
Charlie flailed, trying to get away. Colby’s free hand reached for him, pulled him close. “It’s me, Charlie. I got you.”
“Get your hands off him!”
Colby rolled away, pulling Charlie with him as the man charged at them, wielding a knife. Together the three of them rolled throw the dust until Colby’s gun was knocked clear.
“Colby!”
Colby yelled wordlessly as the knife raked his shoulder, then lashed out, hitting the man hard in the face.
“Colby?”
Torn between the fear and need in Charlie’s voice and the assailant, Colby turned for Charlie while the man ran. “Easy, Charlie.” He reached for him, pulling the blindfold off. “I got him, got after that prick.” He pointed into the trees as David and Megan and Don ran up.
Don stopped. Charlie looked up at him, then at Colby, his eyes watering, pleading. “I’ve got him.” Colby assured, hovering over Charlie until Don nodded tightly and ran off after the others.
“Don’t…” Charlie cringed away, turned his head. He was obviously under the influence of some drug, but aware enough to be ashamed of the near naked state he was in.
Colby moved so that he could get behind Charlie and cut the ropes that bound his wrists. “Let’s get you taken care of.”
“No…no…just…” Charlie shivered, blinking up at Colby. “Colby? He said you…” He shook his head. “Drugged me.”
Colby nodded. “I see that.” There was blood, nicks on his arms and chest, a deeper cut near his waist. “Are you hurt?”
“I…don’t know.”
Colby reached again to try to cover Charlie up, but he cringed. “You wanna try standing?”
“He…” Charlie’s hands moved to where his jeans were torn, tried to move them.
Colby’s heart was thundering in his chest, but he forced himself to stay calm. He could hear the ambulance approaching. “Did he…I mean…”
There was abject fear in Charlie’s eyes. “He told me I loved him. He was going to show me…”
Suddenly, Charlie lurched forward, hugging Colby. “I knew you’d find me.”
Colby used the momentum to get them standing, tugging Charlie’s pants into place. “I had to find you Charlie. You’re my friend.”
The EMTs were approaching and Charlie stiffened. “Don’ wanna…” He was slipping further into whatever drug he’d been given.
“It’s okay, Charlie.” Colby helped him onto the gurney, and Charlie’s hand locked in his.
They were nearly to the ambulance when Don jogged up. “Fucker got away.” He moved around the gurney to Charlie’s other side. “Is he okay?”
“There’s some sort of drug in his system. Cuts and bruises other than that.” Colby said, glancing up.
“I want to know everything that there is to know about this guy.” Don said. “Everything.”
Colby nodded, easing his hand out of Charlie’s. Don would ride with Charlie. That’s how it should be. Colby was just a friend. Don was family.
Still, watching the ambulance leave, Colby’s stomach churned.
Charlie was very aware of the fact that Colby had seen a whole lot more of him than anyone else could know. He’d been naked and vulnerable, physically as much as emotionally, and Colby had shielded him, covered his shame from Don.
And judging from Don’s last visit to his hospital room, Colby had kept that secret.
He was physically fine, Sore with a broken rib, a black eye and a few stitches, but now that the drugs had worked out of his system, he was headed home…just waiting on his father to come and get him.
Charlie finished easing on his shirt, turning as someone knocked on the door. He smiled when Colby’s face peeked in. “Hey, if it isn’t my hero.”
Colby rolled his eyes and came into the room. “I don’t know about that.”
Charlie pressed his lips together. He’d had a day or two to piece it together…the time he’d been spending with Colby, the way he laughed, the way he never felt like he had to pretend…the way Colby’s eyes sparkled, the way his hands managed to find perfectly good reasons to touch him.
It took a psychopath to make him see it.
“No getting out of it, Colby. You save my life.” He looked away. “Not to mention my dignity.”
“Just doing my job.” Colby had both hands shoved in his pockets, his cheeks burning red. It was cute.
Charlie just blinked at that thought. Cute. It wasn’t a word he’d have used before, not for Colby Granger. “No. Seriously. Thank you. I was…” It was his turn to blush. He’d been half hard and hanging out of his torn jeans.
“You were in trouble. I did what any of us would have done. I’m just glad I got there before…” His voice trailed off and he looked away, even as they both moved toward each other. “Before he hurt you too much.”
Charlie nodded. It wasn’t very much before. Charlie had bolted when the man’s fingers penetrated him. He remembered that pretty well.
“We…we picked up a trail. Hopefully we’ll catch him.”
Charlie nodded. “My father’s coming to get me.” He shook his head then, not sure why he’d said it. “If I’d known you were coming, I’d have asked you.”
“You want me to take you home?”
“I think I’d like that.” They were closer still. Almost touching. Charlie looked up.
In that moment he knew that if were ever to be anything, he’d have to show Colby it was okay. He licked his lips and moved, standing on his toes and pressing his lips to Colby’s.
There was a moment neither of them moved, then Charlie’s hands were on Colby’s face, and Colby’s tongue was on Charlie’s lips, and the air temperature seemed to shoot up about ten degrees.
They were both flushed and red when they pulled apart.
“Charlie, I….”
“I know….I don’t know…” Except parts of him really did know. Other parts were terrified. Then Colby was pulling him back, wrapping long arms around him and kissing him deeply.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” Colby confessed as they separated and Charlie paced away.
“I didn’t know…not until…” Not until he’d gotten so possessive, accused Charlie of flirting with Colby…Him. Larry Grotten, according to Don.
“Hey…” Colby’s hand was on his arm. “You okay?”
“I—“ He sighed. “Honestly? I don’t really know.” He shivered. Colby was behind him, a strong, solid mass that was comforting. Almost without thinking, Charlie leaned into him, and Colby’s arms folded around him.
“It’s going to be okay.” Colby murmured in his ear.
“You can’t promise that.” Charlie responded, his voice soft.
“I can promise that I am going to be your personal bodyguard until we catch him.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I think I’d like that too.”
Maybe this wasn’t what Don had meant when he gave Colby bodyguard duty, but Charlie’s body was guarded, safe….it was warm and giving…it was moaning so deep it connected with Colby’s stomach as he eased out of him and back again.
Both of them were slicked with sweat, their bodies spooned together on clingy, damp sheets in Colby’s bedroom.
Charlie’s hair was wet was Colby pulled his hands through it again. “God, Charlie.”
Four days.
They’d been sequestered here in Colby’s apartment for four days and it only took one to get them fumbling through their first time. They’d had the frantic groping and the frenzied need. They’d had the quiet and tender. There had been long hours when Colby just held him because anything more was too much.
This though…this right here was hot and sticky, their bodies flush. Colby’s cock was held in the tight warmth of Charlie’s body and they had been like this forever, moving slowly, breathing as one.
“Take me home.” Colby whispered, earning that smile…that blinding, beautiful, shy and yet open smile. Charlie lean back against him, holding Colby’s hands against his chest as he came.
Home. Colby had given up looking for it. He nuzzled into Charlie’s neck. Maybe it had found him.
Pairing/Characters: Colby Granger/Charlie Epps, Don Epps, mentions of others
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3221
Summary: Charlie's new found popularity has a down side. A serious one. When a secret admirer snatches Charlie, practically out from under Colby's nose, it changes everything.
A/Ns & Warnings: Not much in the way of wanrings. Near non-con, schloompy comfort after. For
Charlie was confident that his brother would find him. That his team would figure it out, even if it had taken Charlie actually waking up here to even start to understand that he was in trouble.
Trouble that came with restraints and blindfolds and a raging headache from a blow to the back of the head, plus maybe drugs. His tongue felt thick and his mouth tasted funny.
“I’m sorry it had to be this way.” The voice was back…though where it had gone for the last little while, Charlie couldn’t guess. “You know I don’t want to hurt you.”
“No, actually…No, I don’t know that at all.” Charlie said, trying to follow the footsteps as the person moved around him. Everything was foggy. He’d never seen the person, didn’t remember anything.
He remembered having dinner with Colby after wrapping up a case. They’d talked, had a beer, and then Colby had dropped Charlie off at home. The last thing he remembered was waving goodbye and opening the front door.
“Who was he?” The voice was cold, sinister.
“Who?” Charlie asked, turning his head toward the sound.
“The man you were with. I saw you together. He touched you.”
Charlie frowned. “Colby?”
“You let him touch you.” Suddenly the voice was so close Charlie could feel the man’s breath on his lips. “You let him touch you.”
Charlie tried to pull back, pull away, but the chair he was bound to wasn’t budging. There was a hand on his face, sliding over his chin, up to cup his cheek. “But I have you now. He’ll never touch you again.”
His head was scrambling to catch up. Colby. He’d patted Charlie’s back, they’d bumped legs under the table. He shook his head. He had bigger things to worry about.
“You should know my brother is an FBI agent.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about him.” The man was moving away. “He’s not going to find us. He won’t keep us apart.”
“Apart? Us? Who are you?”
There was silence for a long time. “I’m disappointed. I thought by now you’d know. I wrote you so many letters.”
Fan mail. Charlie groaned inwardly. He had never expected that reaction to his publishing success. Mountains of it.
“I get a lot of letters.” His head was starting to pound.
It was quiet again. Too quiet. He listened, straining for a sign that his captor was still there, still watching. Letters. Through the pounding radiating up from the base of his neck, Charlie vaguely recalled a letter he had read, filled with intimate wordings and gushing praise. It had bothered him, but he’d never sorted out why.
That was before the sheer volume had prevented him from reading every letter. “Hello?”
“We’re done talking right now. I need time to think about forgiving you.” Fingers shoved something into his mouth, wrapped cloth tightly around his head to hold the gag in.
They would find him. They would find him. He kept repeating it to himself. He was confident. Petrified, but confident.
Colby growled at his cell phone. He’d lost the call, lost the car…he’d lost Charlie. He closed his eyes and forced himself to focus. He’d gotten through to Don, told him what he’d seen.
Only truthfully, he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d seen.
He’d watched Charlie walk up to his door, waited while he unlocked it. When Charlie waved, Colby backed out of the drive way, but when he looked back, Charlie was gone.
The door was ajar, and Charlie was gone.
Colby had pulled up at the curb, called out to Charlie, and when there was no answer, called Charlie’s cell phone. It rang from the bushes near the door. That was when he saw the car. It was parked up near the house, where he wouldn’t see it from the road. It roared to life and flew out of the driveway, leaving Colby scrambling for his car, his phone in his hand.
It took him three calls to reach Don, careening through the streets following the car, still not even sure Charlie was in it. He was running on instinct. Don had gone to the house. The door was open and Charlie was no where to be seen. The call had dropped before Don could tell him what he wanted Colby to do.
He was up in the hills now, winding roads that fed private properties and cut off cell reception every twenty feet.
While he’d been juggling the phone, he’d lost sight of the car.
That had been nearly two hours ago. He’d backtracked, checked some of the side streets and drives, but there was no sign of the beat up black Lincoln. Colby inhaled deeply and looked around him one more time. This was where they’d disappeared.
For just a minute he couldn’t breathe. Charlie’s face filled his mind…that shy smile, the curly hair, the fire that filled Colby’s palm when he’d touched his back. There was something about Charlie that changed everything Colby Granger ever knew about attraction.
And Charlie was in trouble. Colby could feel it in his gut. He didn’t want to leave him out here alone, but he knew his best bet in finding him was to get to a place with cell phone reception and call in backup.
Charlie was fairly certain that he hadn’t been properly asleep. Sleep was difficult sitting upright in an uncomfortable chair with your hands bound behind you and your feet tied to the legs, your mouth stuffed with a foul tasting rag, that he imagined now in retrospect had probably been how the drugs had gotten into his system to begin with.
Still, he’d dreamed. At first he was buried under a landslide of mail…lost in the dark…then it had been Don coming to save him…but when his hand connected it was Colby that pulled him to safety…Colby who held him while he shook.
“He’s not coming for you.” The voice was back, in his ear.
Charlie swallowed, grimacing at the taste.
“You’re with me now.”
The hand was back, stroking over his face, loosening the gag. Charlie was still working the stiffness from his jaw when the man kissed him. There was a hand behind his head, holding him while his mouth covered Charlie’s, while his tongue invaded Charlie’s mouth.
He wanted to protest, say something, but his words were all stuck on fear and rage in the back of his mind.
“I knew you’d feel the same, once I took you away from all the distractions.”
Charlie licked his lips. “Distractions?”
“Those men…they all act like they own you, pulling you every which way.”
Charlie shook his head. “No…they’re my friends.”
Something cold touched his arm. Charlie stiffened, stilled. “They want to control you, Charlie.” There was the sound of ripping. The cold touch of a blade ghosting over his skin as his shirt was cut off of him. “They think they own you…and you let them…let them tell you what to do and let them touch you…but you love me, I know you do. I just have to show you how much.”
This was insane. His hands were gliding over Charlie’s chest now, rubbing against nipples that reacted to the cold and the hands.
“What…what makes you believe I love you?” Charlie asked softly.
The hands left him, then he was slapped hard across his right cheek, rocking the chair.
“You dedicated your book to me. Told me you loved me, said you couldn’t have done it without me.”
Charlie cleared his throat. “You…you’re Larry?” He’d dedicated the book to Larry, for the support and mentoring and all of their years together.
The tone of the voice changed, softened. “I knew you got my letters…I knew you’d know who I was.”
Charlie felt the knife again, dragging up the denim of his jeans, “We’re connected Charlie…you and me…and I’m going to make this special…you’ll see…”
“Special?” Charlie got a funny feeling he wasn’t going to like figuring out exactly what that meant.
“Just relax.” The knife cut through whatever was binding his legs to the chair and a hand pulled him up. “It’s easier if you relax.”
“What’s easier?” Charlie asked, getting a pretty damn good idea when the hand that had been under his arm moved down to cup his groin. “I mean…hey…I just…stop.”
He was off balance, pulled up against a strong chest and he could feel the knife against his skin. His bound hands pressed against the man’s groin, against an unmistakable hardness. “Easy, it won’t hurt. I’ll be gentle.”
“I…I’m sure…I mean…I’ve…I’ve never…” Charlie shook his head. He had to stall him. Give Don more time. “I can’t.”
“Shh…” His lips kissed over Charlie’s shoulders while his hand stroked over Charlie’s cock. “I like that I’ll be your first.”
The knife slide down, into the waistband of his jeans. Charlie started, moving forward involuntarily. The sound of denim ripping made it worse. Charlie was panicking. He stumbled away, bare feet banging against furniture.
“Stop. Please just stop.” Charlie’s shoulder smacked into the wall and he curled into it, even as a hand slid into his hair, fisting and pulling him back.
His jeans were slipping from his hips and the panic was pounding through his veins. “I don’t want to hurt you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t.”
Something pricked his arm and he was turned, back to the wall, arm across his throat. “What…what was that?”
“Just something to help you relax.”
“I don’t want to relax. I want to go home.”
He could feel the drug already working, making it’s way through his system, slowing him down. The one arm stayed tight against his throat, keeping him pinned to the wall, but the other was caressing his skin. “Easy…I’m going to make you see that it’s me you want.”
Colby had a sick feeling in his stomach as he glanced at his watch. Charlie had been gone for nearly twenty-four hours. They were searching every home, garage, dog house, barn and cave in the area where Colby lost them, but they were stretched thin.
He approached his latest cabin cautiously. It was old, dilapidated. It looked like something forgotten. He was fairly certain no one had stepped foot here in decades.
Until his eye caught on a glint of metal. He circled to his right, through a stand of trees.
The Lincoln.
Colby lifted his radio. “This is Granger. I’ve got something.”
“Hold up. Do not engage.” Don’s voice was tight. He was anxious, something Colby understood.
Colby eyed the car. There was a back door to the cabin, and windows. He moved, low to the ground and out of the line of sight, sidling up to the wall and inching toward a window.
“See? I’m good to you, Charlie. You belong with me.” Colby couldn’t see clearly. He got a glimpse of Charlie’s hair, skin. The setting sun made it hard to make out details, glaring off the window.
“Please…don’t…” Charlie’s voice was slurred, plaintive.
He couldn’t wait for Don. He exhaled and pulled his gun, moving toward the door. Something crashed to the floor inside, then there was a thud against the door. Colby reached for the door, wrenching it open. Charlie stumbled out, blindfolded and bound, falling into him and they tumbled into the dirt.
Charlie flailed, trying to get away. Colby’s free hand reached for him, pulled him close. “It’s me, Charlie. I got you.”
“Get your hands off him!”
Colby rolled away, pulling Charlie with him as the man charged at them, wielding a knife. Together the three of them rolled throw the dust until Colby’s gun was knocked clear.
“Colby!”
Colby yelled wordlessly as the knife raked his shoulder, then lashed out, hitting the man hard in the face.
“Colby?”
Torn between the fear and need in Charlie’s voice and the assailant, Colby turned for Charlie while the man ran. “Easy, Charlie.” He reached for him, pulling the blindfold off. “I got him, got after that prick.” He pointed into the trees as David and Megan and Don ran up.
Don stopped. Charlie looked up at him, then at Colby, his eyes watering, pleading. “I’ve got him.” Colby assured, hovering over Charlie until Don nodded tightly and ran off after the others.
“Don’t…” Charlie cringed away, turned his head. He was obviously under the influence of some drug, but aware enough to be ashamed of the near naked state he was in.
Colby moved so that he could get behind Charlie and cut the ropes that bound his wrists. “Let’s get you taken care of.”
“No…no…just…” Charlie shivered, blinking up at Colby. “Colby? He said you…” He shook his head. “Drugged me.”
Colby nodded. “I see that.” There was blood, nicks on his arms and chest, a deeper cut near his waist. “Are you hurt?”
“I…don’t know.”
Colby reached again to try to cover Charlie up, but he cringed. “You wanna try standing?”
“He…” Charlie’s hands moved to where his jeans were torn, tried to move them.
Colby’s heart was thundering in his chest, but he forced himself to stay calm. He could hear the ambulance approaching. “Did he…I mean…”
There was abject fear in Charlie’s eyes. “He told me I loved him. He was going to show me…”
Suddenly, Charlie lurched forward, hugging Colby. “I knew you’d find me.”
Colby used the momentum to get them standing, tugging Charlie’s pants into place. “I had to find you Charlie. You’re my friend.”
The EMTs were approaching and Charlie stiffened. “Don’ wanna…” He was slipping further into whatever drug he’d been given.
“It’s okay, Charlie.” Colby helped him onto the gurney, and Charlie’s hand locked in his.
They were nearly to the ambulance when Don jogged up. “Fucker got away.” He moved around the gurney to Charlie’s other side. “Is he okay?”
“There’s some sort of drug in his system. Cuts and bruises other than that.” Colby said, glancing up.
“I want to know everything that there is to know about this guy.” Don said. “Everything.”
Colby nodded, easing his hand out of Charlie’s. Don would ride with Charlie. That’s how it should be. Colby was just a friend. Don was family.
Still, watching the ambulance leave, Colby’s stomach churned.
Charlie was very aware of the fact that Colby had seen a whole lot more of him than anyone else could know. He’d been naked and vulnerable, physically as much as emotionally, and Colby had shielded him, covered his shame from Don.
And judging from Don’s last visit to his hospital room, Colby had kept that secret.
He was physically fine, Sore with a broken rib, a black eye and a few stitches, but now that the drugs had worked out of his system, he was headed home…just waiting on his father to come and get him.
Charlie finished easing on his shirt, turning as someone knocked on the door. He smiled when Colby’s face peeked in. “Hey, if it isn’t my hero.”
Colby rolled his eyes and came into the room. “I don’t know about that.”
Charlie pressed his lips together. He’d had a day or two to piece it together…the time he’d been spending with Colby, the way he laughed, the way he never felt like he had to pretend…the way Colby’s eyes sparkled, the way his hands managed to find perfectly good reasons to touch him.
It took a psychopath to make him see it.
“No getting out of it, Colby. You save my life.” He looked away. “Not to mention my dignity.”
“Just doing my job.” Colby had both hands shoved in his pockets, his cheeks burning red. It was cute.
Charlie just blinked at that thought. Cute. It wasn’t a word he’d have used before, not for Colby Granger. “No. Seriously. Thank you. I was…” It was his turn to blush. He’d been half hard and hanging out of his torn jeans.
“You were in trouble. I did what any of us would have done. I’m just glad I got there before…” His voice trailed off and he looked away, even as they both moved toward each other. “Before he hurt you too much.”
Charlie nodded. It wasn’t very much before. Charlie had bolted when the man’s fingers penetrated him. He remembered that pretty well.
“We…we picked up a trail. Hopefully we’ll catch him.”
Charlie nodded. “My father’s coming to get me.” He shook his head then, not sure why he’d said it. “If I’d known you were coming, I’d have asked you.”
“You want me to take you home?”
“I think I’d like that.” They were closer still. Almost touching. Charlie looked up.
In that moment he knew that if were ever to be anything, he’d have to show Colby it was okay. He licked his lips and moved, standing on his toes and pressing his lips to Colby’s.
There was a moment neither of them moved, then Charlie’s hands were on Colby’s face, and Colby’s tongue was on Charlie’s lips, and the air temperature seemed to shoot up about ten degrees.
They were both flushed and red when they pulled apart.
“Charlie, I….”
“I know….I don’t know…” Except parts of him really did know. Other parts were terrified. Then Colby was pulling him back, wrapping long arms around him and kissing him deeply.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” Colby confessed as they separated and Charlie paced away.
“I didn’t know…not until…” Not until he’d gotten so possessive, accused Charlie of flirting with Colby…Him. Larry Grotten, according to Don.
“Hey…” Colby’s hand was on his arm. “You okay?”
“I—“ He sighed. “Honestly? I don’t really know.” He shivered. Colby was behind him, a strong, solid mass that was comforting. Almost without thinking, Charlie leaned into him, and Colby’s arms folded around him.
“It’s going to be okay.” Colby murmured in his ear.
“You can’t promise that.” Charlie responded, his voice soft.
“I can promise that I am going to be your personal bodyguard until we catch him.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I think I’d like that too.”
Maybe this wasn’t what Don had meant when he gave Colby bodyguard duty, but Charlie’s body was guarded, safe….it was warm and giving…it was moaning so deep it connected with Colby’s stomach as he eased out of him and back again.
Both of them were slicked with sweat, their bodies spooned together on clingy, damp sheets in Colby’s bedroom.
Charlie’s hair was wet was Colby pulled his hands through it again. “God, Charlie.”
Four days.
They’d been sequestered here in Colby’s apartment for four days and it only took one to get them fumbling through their first time. They’d had the frantic groping and the frenzied need. They’d had the quiet and tender. There had been long hours when Colby just held him because anything more was too much.
This though…this right here was hot and sticky, their bodies flush. Colby’s cock was held in the tight warmth of Charlie’s body and they had been like this forever, moving slowly, breathing as one.
“Take me home.” Colby whispered, earning that smile…that blinding, beautiful, shy and yet open smile. Charlie lean back against him, holding Colby’s hands against his chest as he came.
Home. Colby had given up looking for it. He nuzzled into Charlie’s neck. Maybe it had found him.