Ruts & Heats

Chapter 13 ~ Gil

Broch was in high spirits when Gil met him for their jog that afternoon. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, waving, when Gil found him on the dirt path. His gorgeous smile lit up his entire face and Gil was sore tempted to run a finger over those cheekbones. But he kept his hands to himself once he approached.

Broch had no such self-control. He wrapped Gil in a quick hug before he started stretching. "You ready to get muddy?"

"A little dirt won't hurt," Gil said with a shrug, bringing a knee up to his chest, pulling the muscles tight.

"That's the spirit! Bet we'll have the trail to ourselves."

"Maybe. Though I bet a lot of dogs are ready to get out of the house after all that rain. Wouldn't be surprised if there are more than there were the other day."

Gil smiled to himself when he thought about the one mutt who had tried to attack Broch with kisses the other day on their run. The poor owner had barely been able to keep the black ball of energy from jumping on them both, tugging the leash and apologizing profusely. Broch, usually focused and quite serious about not taking breaks during their jog, had immediately stopped to give the dog pets until it calmed down. Apparently, the beautiful man had a soft spot for dogs.

The dark clouds had finally cleared and the sky was a lovely pale blue overhead as they started their laps. Gil loved the fresh smell in the air. Though there were plenty of puddles they had to bypass on the trail, they lucked out and found no spots that were so muddy their shoes got stuck.

This was their third run together and they had already gotten into an easy rhythm with each other. Neither spoke much, concentrating on their breathing instead, but sometimes Broch would flash him a smile or give a daring wink before speeding up, looking for a race. Gil was always more than happy to oblige him.

After two laps, Gil called off, still a bit tired from lack of sleep. Broch ribbed him about it a little but didn't push it. Which was good. It wasn't like Gil could explain why wasn't sleeping well. How every time he laid in bed and closed his eyes, he pictured the man underneath him. Felt his smooth skin under his hands. Heard his throaty moans in his ears. Tasted his delicious slick in his mouth. No, he couldn't explain to his friend how he was the cause of his restlessness. How he knew the rest of his weekend would be spent distracting himself so he wasn't beating off in the shower to images of Broch's body.

So he merely said his farewells and did his best not to let his thoughts stray at the sight of the man panting and covered in a sheen of sweat. Broch was obviously oblivious. Meanwhile, Gil had to struggle to keep his hands to himself. It took everything in him not to run a finger over those pink lips when Broch's tongue darted out to wet them as he wished him a good weekend.

The walk home calmed him but only a little. Broch had invited him out for drinks the next afternoon, claiming he wanted Gil to meet his brother. Gil had politely refused. Said he would be busy. Which was an absolute lie.

I need to get my shit together. I need to be a good friend to him without lusting for him. I need to be around him without making it weird. I can't be selfish.

* * * * *

Monday morning dawned bright but chilly. Gil was up early and headed out to work with a smile. He had finally gotten some sleep last night and felt a hundred percent better. No matter what his budding feelings for Broch were, no matter how much he wanted to take their relationship further, he resolved last night that he would take it slow. If Broch wanted to just be friends, fine. If he wanted no-strings-attached sex sometimes, fine. Gil would take his time and show Broch that he could be a worthy partner. He would use actions over words.