Free Melting Point by Kate Meader

Eli’s campaign with the rest of the team’s names as supporting footnotes. Not that Brady minded being relegated to the sidelines. Eli was the true hero of the day, and nothing stoked voters’ fire more than a candidate’s tales of wartime derring-do.
    â€œIt’s ancient history.”
    A low hum was Gage’s response. Translation: time you got over it.
    Brady stroked his knuckles over Gage’s stubbled jaw. “You had a crazy mom and you lost your father and brother in the line of duty. I know that every day you see shit on the job that must make you question whether humanity should even be allowed to continue, but you’re the most cheerful fuckin’ person I know. Does nothin’ throw you?”
    Gage chuckled. “Plenty of stuff throws me, such as you playing hard to get. That really pissed me off.”
    â€œI wasn’t.” They just didn’t make sense together.
    Gage made a sound of annoyance as if he knew exactlyhow Brady completed that sentence in his head. “I’m cheerful because the alternative is to see obstacles everywhere and expect people will hurt you. I choose to live in full color. I choose to say hey there to the hotties, fuck off to the haters, tell lovers how I want it, and people how it shall be. Now, how about you tell me why you really can’t sleep?”
    The guy already had looks, charm, and a cock Brady wanted to suck on like an everlasting gobstopper. Did he have to be well-adjusted to boot?
    Brady could remain silent. He’d gone years without voicing his pain, a lifetime of containment. When Gage asked if he could stay the night, he could have said no. But with this man, he wanted to try.
    â€œI have nightmares sometimes. The punchy kind.”
    Gage propped up on one elbow. “Sleep fighter, huh?”
    â€œIt can get . . . messy.” This whole thing was already messy, but the idea that he might harm Gage while he slept made Brady physically ill. Guilt about how he had failed his team was his constant companion; he sure as hell didn’t want to place Gage in this latest line of fire. “Don’t want to hurt you.”
    â€œThen don’t. Or if you do, wait until we’ve paid a visit to the sex toy emporium and figured out which floggers we like.” Smile breaking wide, he gripped Brady’s already erect cock at the base. “Until then, let’s see if I can think of another way to relax you.”

chapter seven

    G AGE SMILED AT ANNIE, the nurse who always greeted him at Hillview. Usually he checked in with her after each visit, but today she beckoned him over before he made it to the activity room.
    â€œShe’s been asking for you. For Gage.”
    Gage’s heart kicked a slap shot to his ribs. He’d told the staff his true identity back when he first started visiting, but had asked them not to mention it to Emmaline, saying their relationship had been acrimonious and he didn’t want to upset her.
    â€œDid somebody say something?”
    Annie shook her head. “Sometimes they have moments of lucidity, spaces where the smoke clears and the past rushes in to fill the gap. It could be that you being here has triggered something. She might not have made the full connection, but, whatever’s happened, it’s the first time we’ve heard her say your name.”
    She cut him a weird look, and only then did he realize that he had backed up, like he wanted to run. Firefighter Gage Simpson, afraid of no one and nothing, was turning yellow.
    â€œMy childhood wasn’t a very happy one,” he said by way of explanation. After Emmaline gave up on antigay bath time and other aversion therapy fun because she had run off to join some cult in New Mexico, it had been fine. Or, on the road to fine. It took him awhile to develop coping strategies to block out the taunts of “Gay Simpleton” from the other kids at the home. And then he had been chosen, like