Fuck.
Hector tossed an arm over his eyes again. He was here now, so there was nothing for it but to try to get some sleep. “Good night.”
Miguel’s voice was still nervous and breathless when he responded. “Good night.”
Fuck.
For the rest of the week, Hector was completely off his game. Not out in the field—he stayed focused there. His station work was a different story, however. He was behind on paperwork because he spent half the time staring off into space. Like now. All he could think about these days was Miguel. When he was home, he helped him around the apartment, bringing him food, fresh ice packs, or whatever else he needed. He’d taken over the cooking for a few days, even though Miguel insisted he could handle it. Which meant Miguel stayed in the kitchen with him, giving him instructions as he prepared their meals.
When he was at work, he worried about Miguel. The younger man had occasional flashes of that sad, quiet mood he’d first shown after the incident at the Gator Pit. Hector didn’t like to think of him home alone, stressing over his future.
In addition to all of that, they were still sharing a bed. Hector hadn’t gotten much sleep the past few days. Because every night, he lay awake, wondering. Wondering how it would feel to run his hands over slim thighs taut with muscle and lightly dusted with hair. He wondered what it would be like to press Miguel back onto the bed and lean over him for a kiss. Wondered what it would feel like to slide on top of Miguel, completely covering him with his bigger body. Night after night, he lay on his side, wondering what Miguel would do if he attempted any of the things he thought about.
To be honest, his sexual attraction to another man didn’t surprise him. He’d known he had those feelings. They’d been buried deep, like the memory of him looking down at a sweetly smiling Miguel, but they were there. And now his recent experience with Miguel had brought those feelings back to the surface. They weren’t unwelcome; he just didn’t know what he should do about them. A paper airplane landed on his desk, abruptly snapping him out of his brooding.
He looked across the aisle at Clay, who sat there with his arm still raised in a throwing position. Hector glanced down at the precisely folded paper plane with SWAT on the wings in neat block letters shaded in with a black marker. “How much time did you spend making this?”
“About the same amount of time you’ve been staring at that form and pretending to read it. You okay?”
Hector leaned back in his chair to talk to his friend and co-worker. “Yeah. Just having an off week.”
“You want to come have a drink with me and Ryan after work? Maybe you just need to relax for a couple of hours.”
Hector nodded. “Sure, but I can’t stay long.” Miguel was mobile on his crutches, so Hector felt okay leaving him, but he didn’t want to stay gone all night just in case. They only had about thirty minutes before the end of their shift, so he went ahead and texted Miguel to let him know he’d be home late unless he needed him for something. Almost immediately he got a response.
“Nope. I’m good. See you soon!” followed by a thumbs up and a smiley face.
Hector smiled and tucked his phone away. Then he actually focused on his After Action Report so he could get it finished and submitted.
Their shift over, Hector met up with Clay and Ryan at Rudy’s. The bar was a popular spot for HPD. Since they weren’t there with their whole team, they passed the long table where they usually sat in favor of a four-top booth.
They all ordered drinks. Ryan and Hector got beers. Clay was in recovery, so he got a root beer. They lazily talked about work while they waited for their server to come back. Once their drinks were on the table, Ryan shifted the subject to Hector.
“So. What is going on with you?”
Hector looked at his two friends. The question wasn’t unexpected. “I met someone.”
“Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing?” Clay asked. “What’s the matter? They’re not blonde?”
Hector grinned a little at that. Hector only dates blondes was a long-running joke on their team. He’d been trying to get Clay to describe the blonde he was dating and joked that all blondes were his type. Meanwhile, Clay had been dancing around the fact that the “hot blonde” he was involved with was their sergeant, Logan Pierce. Now, here they were, with him in a similar situation. Hector took a quick drink of his beer then set it back on the table. He kept his hand wrapped around the bottle as he debated whether to spit the truth out to his friends. With a mental fuck it, he decided to rip off the Band-Aid.
“No. He’s not blond.”
Clay’s eyes popped open wide, and he choked on his root beer. Ryan didn’t look surprised at all.
He propped his chin on his fist and waited. Clay was still sputtering, so Hector ignored him for the moment and addressed Ryan. “You don’t look surprised.”
“I’ve listened to the way you talk about Miguel. That is the guy you’re talking about, right?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s what I thought. I’ve listened. Noticed how bummed you were when you realized Miguel would be leaving soon. And uh…” His fair skin blushed pink all the way up his forehead to the roots of his blond hair. “I’ve noticed you checking me out a few times.”
Hector dropped his head into his hands and groaned. That last part was true, but he’d had no clue Ryan had caught him doing it.
Clay finally stopped sputtering. “Well, at least you stayed true to type while checking Ryan out.”
“I’m sorry.” He lifted his head to meet Ryan’s eyes. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”