Short Stories [Man on Man]

Snowed In [2]

“And who's this big guy?” the officer cooed, bending down to scratch Milly's ears.

“Her name is Milly.”

“Oh.” The man looked embarrassed and let out a nervous chuckle. “Sorry, pretty girl.”

Milly soaked up the praise, putting her paws on the officer's chest and tilting her head to lick at his face. But the man was too tall, and she only reached his neck. Amos felt a little jealous of his girl. He wanted his tongue on that thick column.

“Here.” Amos held out his hand. “I'll take your coat.”

The man handed it to him, but didn't look away from Milly. Amos tried not to show his disappointment as he walked to the closet and hung up the officer's bulky jacket. When he came back into the living room, the man was on his knees, rubbing his dog's belly, like he didn't know what else to do.

The officer saw him and smiled. “I'm Sutton, by the way. Sutton Dailey.”

Once again, Amos held out his hand, and they shook. Except this time, thick gloves didn't separate their fingers. Sutton's hand was cold against his. Well, duh...He wanted to smack himself in the forehead. The guy had probably been outside, rescuing people like him all day long.

“Nice to meet you, Sutton Dailey.” Amos grinned. “Now, c'mon. Let me see if I can start a fire. You've gotta be freezing.”

Sutton shrugged. “Eh...I'm alright. But a fire would be nice.”

“Okay. I'll go get the wood.”

“I'll come with.”

Together, they walked down into his basement, down the creaking stairs into the bland area. His basement wasn't anything fancy, just a place where he kept the wood for the winter, his guns in the safe, and tools for arrow-head sharpening. He had some lathes and wittling tools down here, too, but he hadn't touched those in quite some time.

“What type of hunting do ya do?” Sutton asked beside him, loading wood into his big, burly arms.

“Deer, turkey, pheasant, I even tried bear once with my brother. But I didn't like it too much.”

“Did you hunt with hounds?”

“Yeah.” He nodded but didn't want to think about it too much. “But the bear killed three of 'em. I don't go anymore. Do you hunt?”

Sutton grinned and started up the stairs. “When I can, yeah. And fishing. I love to go fishing.”

Amos followed, more than happy to ogle that ass, even if it was encased in looser-fitting pants. He set the wood down around the hearth. They stacked a vertical pile, threw some fat wood in, and lit it. Within minutes, they had a roaring fire that cast warmth throughout his whole living room. Amos sat down on the loveseat where Milly jumped up beside him, and Sutton sat down in the arm chair closest to the fire.

“So what do ya catch?” Amos asked, playing with the tattered edges of the afghan throw.

“Mostly pan fish, but they started making me kinda...fat, 'cause I deep-fried 'em and all, ya know? So I'm trying now on catching more northerns. You can grill those without 'em tasting like shit.”

Amos looked Sutton up and down. From what he could tell, there wasn't an ounce of fat on him. Through the pants, his legs looked like they were hewn from rock. In fact, everything did. Like granite. It made him want to feed the man deep-fried fish just to see what would happen.

“So you don't eat donuts, then?”

“Believe it or not, you can be a cop and not eat a box of donuts every day. But on cheat days...” Sutton flashed him one of those entrancing smiles. “On cheat days, I'll have a donut. And then another, and well, you get the idea. They're my favorite, especially when they're filled with jelly.”