MasukPOV: Dual, Khyle and GunnerHe lifted the key fob and hit the button, and his car chirped back at them, the sound echoing off the cement walls of the structure around them, confusing the senses. Gunner, though, turned his head toward the sound. But his expression quickly became annoyed, like he was thoroughly stuck on a crossword puzzle."Where's your jalopy?" he frowned. Khyle felt his eye twitch, but the typical slight against his car was forgotten in the next instant, and he nodded toward the space ahead, feeling a small upward pull on the side of his sore lip."You're standing in front of it."Gunner seemed to take a moment to process where he was supposed to be looking. Khyle pressed another button, and an engine fired up. Blue eyes widened, first in surprise, then amazement. Not that the car in front of him was the most expensive thing on the road. But it was admittedly as nice as his own. Better maybe. Except that this one apparently belonged to Santos."Get outta here!" he bar
POV: Dual, Khyle and GunnerKhyle winced, grimacing as well when Gunner scuffed his hair and slung a heavy arm around his shoulders, practically dragging him into a walk. They weren't going running today. Khyle had declared a day off. Besides, he knew Gunner would have worked out already. He was aware of his habits, and he knew the man was anal about keeping himself up to par, and then some.Instead, he had some stuff to drop off at the local animal shelter, worn blankets from his dad's clinic, things of that nature. Gunner had, almost too agreeably, been all in on Khyle's morning plans. He'd said he had a few old towels to add to the donation pile, even though the ones in his hand looked suspiciously brand new.Khyle scowled back at him. Everything from his own general discomfort to Gunner's many faces, it was all throwing him off his determined stride and into a willful state of petulance he couldn't seem to reel back in."What's that supposed to mean?" he shot back. "You think I lo
POV: GunnerThe skin of Khyle's lip was warm and soft.He only wanted to see what damage Khyle had done to himself last night. And before he knew what had possessed him, he'd reached out and taken Khyle's chin in his hand. It was nothing, really. They were a physical bunch, and close contact with another guy on the team was as normal as taking a piss, nothing at all, but.As soon as he felt that hot skin burning under his fingertips, sinking into his palm, he felt something about himself letting go. Maybe it started before that. He wasn't sure. But Gunner's eyes slit in concentration, and almost like an afterthought, he felt himself slipping somewhere.Until he felt the vibration run through his fingers when those lips moved.Distantly, he heard a low voice. And he blinked slowly as if waking from a fog dream.It sounded vaguely annoyed. That was never a good sign."You know, some people just ask."The world suddenly got brighter, the late-morning sun breaking through the clouds above
POV: Dual, Khyle and Gunner"Yo, Santos. For such a pretty boy, you took that stick to the face like a boss."The thin January air curled like cold steel around their breath on this Canadian-est of days. The storm had dragged a cold snap in its wake. A large man, his appearance smooth and controlled, an unlikely contrast to his feral and often savage nature, moved toward a deceptively leaner but equally tempered and eruptive male as the two took stock of each other for the first time in what felt like weeks.In reality, it had been little more than a day and a half.Pretty boy raised an irritated eyebrow before the flesh between his rich brown eyes rumpled into the deeper version of his trademark scowl. He choked on a nameless sound and took in cold air as he opened his mouth, at first intent on coming up with something as deeply scathing as pretty boy. Something Gunner could suck on.But last night's texting debacle was on the shortlist in his mind. And regardless of Gunner's stupid
POV: Dual, Khyle and Gunner"Yo, Santos. For such a pretty boy, you took that stick to the face like a boss."The thin January air curled like cold steel around their breath on this Canadian-est of days. The storm had dragged a cold snap in its wake. A large man, his appearance smooth and controlled, an unlikely contrast to his feral and often savage nature, moved toward a deceptively leaner but equally tempered and eruptive male as the two took stock of each other for the first time in what felt like weeks.In reality, it had been little more than a day and a half.Pretty boy raised an irritated eyebrow before the flesh between his rich brown eyes rumpled into the deeper version of his trademark scowl. He choked on a nameless sound and took in cold air as he opened his mouth, at first intent on coming up with something as deeply scathing as pretty boy. Something Gunner could suck on.But last night's texting debacle was on the shortlist in his mind. And regardless of Gunner's stupid
POV: Dual, Khyle and GunnerGunner had been early.Khyle had come down from his apartment with the donation bags already packed and his gear bag over one shoulder, expecting to find the lobby empty and a text waiting for him saying Gunner was five minutes out. Instead he'd found the bluenet already there, standing with his own gear slung over one shoulder and a full garbage bag in his other hand, looking like he'd been waiting long enough to have formed an opinion about the lobby's decor, which from his expression was not a favorable one.Khyle had stopped when he saw him. Just for a second. The way you stopped when you came around a corner and found something you weren't quite braced for, even when you knew it was going to be there.It was the hair first, always the hair, that specific shade of blue that did not exist anywhere else in Khyle's field of vision except on this one person. Then the rest of him, the jacket, the gear bag, the easy proprietary way he stood in a space he had







