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FIC UPDATE: Angels Ain't Easy Chapter 13 (Mr. Pickles, a Friend and a Phone Call)
Title: Angels Ain’t Easy
Author: Archet
Pairing: OMC Jody McKinnon/Matt Hawkes
Fandom: High Mountain Rangers
Summary: a story of falling in love, figuring things out and just holding on.
Disclaimer: I did not create the High Mountain Ranger character/s, only this fic and the Original Male Character, Jody McKinnon, and any other original characters in supporting roles. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: this fic is set in 1989, approximately a year and a half after the events of the final episode of High Mountain Rangers. There will be no acknowledgment of the events of the spin-off show Jesse Hawkes.
Note: this fic takes place a little over four months after Bad Luck, Bad Guys and High Mountain Rangers and is a sequel to that fic, so reading that first is recommended.
Additional: this fic will depict same sex relationships. If this ain’t your thing, venture no further.
Warnings this chapter: none really, references to sexual themes & situations
Summary this chapter: Aggravated at being restricted to desk duty, Matt rebels, sort of, and gets caught out by Frank. Meanwhile, Jody calls his boy at work with a request...or is that an order?
****Additional Notes at end of story****
~*~
Chapter 12: Mr. Pickles, a Friend and a Phone Call
Matt fitted the can opener around the edge of the can of tuna, clamped it down, and began opening the tin. At his side, Ms. Merriweather looked anxiously up through the twisting limbs of the massive live oak tree at the figure of the grey tabby cat, perched high above. Having opened the tuna tin, Matt carefully folded the metal lid back, and tapped the can opener on the side of the can.
“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” he called out.
The tabby looked down, yellow eyes regarding Matt with an interested expression.
“Mr. Pickles!” Ms. Merriweather exclaimed, thin voice wavering. “You come down this instant!”
Matt hid a smile. It was rumored that Mr. Pickles had come by his name due to the late Mr. Merriweather having had been a big fan of dill pickles. Ms. Merriweather’s dill pickle recipe had seen her place first in the county fair’s pickled vegetable contest for at least the last ten years; much to the consternation of a certain sect of the community. Each year there were rumors of pay-off’s or flagrant cheating, though nothing had ever been proved as far as Matt knew.
Personally, he believed Ms. Merriweather rather liked all the attention she and her prized pickles received every summer as the fair rolled around. Above them, Mr. Pickles meowed plaintively. Arching his back, he stretched out his front paws to claw at the limb he balanced on.
Matt sighed, and tapped the tuna can again. “Come on, Mr. Pickles. You know the drill.”
In fact, they all knew the drill, Mr. Pickles most of all. It was a pattern that repeated about every three months. The rather rotund tabby cat would climb one of the trees in Ms. Merriweather’s back yard and refuse to come down.
Now, his long tail whipping back and forth, Mr. Pickles waffled for a moment, and then finally hopped down a couple branches, but just as Matt was feeling hopeful, the cat stopped. The bright yellow eyes blinked, and leaning against the oak’s trunk, Mr. Pickles rubbed his furred cheek against the rough bark. Mr. Pickles had stalled out on a limb, still many feet out of reach.
Matt looked down at the light touch to his arm. Ms. Merriweather’s anxious brown eyes were apologetic. “I’m so sorry, Matthew.”
Matt smiled. Again, personally, he believed the whole predicament was somehow engineered by Ms. Merriweather in a bid for attention, or just some company. It wasn’t something he could prove, and wouldn’t even if he wanted to. Ms. Merriweather had become sort of an honorary grandma to the rangers, and they diligently looked after her, and by default, Mr. Pickles.
Besides, Matt loved the cherry pies she often brought around to the station as a thank you for their regular assistance. There was no way was he able to endanger that arrangement. Best not to upset the apple cart… or the cherry cart... whatever.
“It’s no problem, Ms. Merriweather.”
Perhaps detecting a whiff of tuna, or sensing his owner’s distress, Mr. Pickles again began making his way down the oak.
“See, here he comes,” Matt said, watching the tabby carefully navigate from limb to limb.
The cat came to a stop several feet above Matt’s head, standing in the crook of one limb where it joined to the oak’s thick trunk. Matt raised the tin of tuna. Mr. Pickles meowed, and patted his paws against the bark of the limb with such fervor, he nearly lost his footing. The silver bell on his bright green collar tinkled merrily.
“Oh!” Ms. Merriweather cried out, pressing the folded handkerchief she’d been wringing in her hands against her mouth.
Above them, Mr. Pickles scrambled back up on his limb, and meowed again. Matt sighed, sensing defeat. Curbing the urge to swear out loud, he bent down and set the can of tuna and can opener on the grass.
“It’s all right; I’ll go up and get him.”
Stepping up to the tree, Matt considered the easiest way up. Stretching up his arms, he grabbed hold of the nearest limb, and hosted himself up, setting his booted feet against the oak’s trunk. Luckily the oak was old, and stout, and had several easily accessible limbs for someone of Matt’s stature. Gaining purchase on the first limb, Matt hauled himself up, took a breath, and continued shimming his way toward Mr. Pickles, who had lain down, yellow eyes steadily watching Matt’s approach.
After a minute or so, Matt drew within eye level with the feline.
“You better behave,” he muttered, and hooked a hand under Mr. Pickles’ round tummy.
Initially the feline protested with an unhappy howl and clung stubbornly to his limb by sinking his claws into the oak’s bark, but Matt was undeterred. Eventually he was able to extract the cat, and tucked the furry body tightly under his arm. He kept his hold snug as Mr. Pickles wiggled.
“You’re more trouble than you’re worth,” he muttered.
At Matt’s voice Mr. Pickles blinked, relaxed, and rubbed his big head against Matt’s jacket, purring loudly.
Their descent was uneventful, though as Matt handed the cat down into Ms. Merriweather’s outstretched arms, and then swung out of the tree, his felt a painful twinge in his left knee as his feet hit the ground.
Well, shit.
Straightening, Matt blew out a breath and smiled as Ms. Merriweather admonished the grey tabby even as she cradled him in her arms, scratching his tummy. Brushing cat hair from his jacket, Matt collected the tuna and can opener and escorted the pair across the short yard to the screen porch attached to the back of Ms. Merriweather’s wood frame cottage style house. After handing off the tuna for Mr. Pickles to enjoy later, he pocketed the can opener, made his goodbyes and headed back to the Blazer he’d parked out past Ms. Merriweather’s rose garden. Sliding back in behind the wheel, he felt another complaint from his knee, and knew he probably needed to bump up his next physical therapy appointment.
Starting up the truck, he headed back to the station. The drive was short, only a few minutes, and as he pulled into the station’s parking area, he spotted Frank Avila standing on the veranda, leaning against a support post, arms crossed. Matt sighed. Since he’d been confined to desk duty for the past week and a half, his team had become somewhat obsessive about making sure he stuck to the rules, and none of them had been shy about reminding him just what ‘light duty’ meant.
Matt knew what it meant… boredom. Though, he had to admit, he’d made astonishing headway on the stack of paperwork that seemed to perpetually inhabit the inbox tray on his desk. He supposed he should be grateful for the downtime; it’d meant he had a more predictable schedule, and got home much earlier than usual, this being made even more appealing by having Jody waiting for him there each night.
Even still, it rankled, having to watch his team go out on calls while he was confined to the station, regulated to shuffling papers around and manning the phone and short wave radio. He missed the thrill of the field, he missing being outside, but most of all, he worried about something happening to one of his team in his absence. Now, a week and a half into his two week sentence, found him in a sour mood so that even Tim had taken to stepping lightly around him.
Matt wasn’t particularly proud of it, and he’d tried to curb his contrariness, but he just wasn’t made to sit around indoors, especially when he felt fine. It’d been a stroke of luck that Ms. Merriweather had called when every one of his team had been either out on a call, or out on a supply run. Matt could’ve waited for one of them to return, but he’d made the bid for a bit of freedom, and even as his knee tweaked again, he wasn’t sorry.
Pulling into the station’s parking area, Matt shut off the truck and got out, slamming its door shut behind him. He started up the paved walkway to the station, disguising as best he could his renewed limp. He wondered briefly if he could blame it on sitting at a desk too long.
Fuck.
His knee had been behaving, mostly, since he’d been taking it easy, but his little outing had strained something.
Cats, man.
Taking his time going up the steps to the station’s entrance, he paused halfway up. Avila, his head tilted to one side, was watching him with a smirk. Matt felt his annoyance well up, and he gritted his teeth. It didn’t help that his knee chose that moment to twinge again, a low level throb that warned him that getting his weight off it for a bit would be wise.
“Have fun?” Frank asked lightly.
Matt sighed, deciding it wasn’t worth a subterfuge.
Christ, you’d think I was still a probie.
“It was just Mr. Pickles up that big ass oak again, is all. It’s not like I went free climbing, or anything. It took all of twenty minutes.”
Avila uncrossed his arms and pushed off his post. “Then why are you limping again?”
“I’m not-”
“Don’t try and buffalo me,” Frank warned.
Matt rested one hand against the railing bordering the steps, and leaned against it. “What I was going to say, is that I’m not limping that much,” he managed to get out under Frank’s narrowed gaze. “I just tweaked it getting the cat down.”
Frank lifted a brow. “You reckon?”
Getting a little petulant, Matt nodded. “Yeah. That’s what I reckon.”
The two men stared at one another, then Frank’s mouth twitched up. “All right, I won’t tell, this time, but don’t blame me when you get found out.”
Feeling his annoyance fade, Matt chuckled. “Deal.” He mounted the remaining steps and drew even with Frank. “Look, next time we’re at Monte’s I owe you a round.”
Frank snorted. “I’ll hold you to that. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you at Monte’s.”
Matt tried to recall that last time he’d been down to their favorite bar. The Monte Wolfe Saloon had the best brews and live music in Bear Valley. The rangers liked to gather there when they had downtime to shoot pool and watch the biggest, most contentious football and hockey games. They had a table of their own in the back room by the pool table.
“I guess it has been a while,” Matt admitted.
“McKinnon’s keeping you occupied, seems like,” Frank said.
Frank wasn’t wrong. The last couple weeks Jody had spent his days and nights at Matt’s cabin, only returning to his own rental to pick up some clothes and toiletries. He’d cooked for Matt, and made sure he rested, made sure Matt did his at home physical therapy routines like he ought to… and afterwards, they’d made love in Matt’s bed, every night.
The first few times after Matt’s mandatory bed rest had passed, Jody had been tender, achingly so, taking Matt slowly, sweetly, his loving as gentle as a summer rain. It’d been almost a new kind of lovemaking to Matt, almost a revelation that a man as physically strong and intense as Jody could be so deferential, and sweet. Matt had loved every moment of it, though he was eager for the return of his lion, his lover who liked to pin him down and fuck him until he submitted utterly, who liked to leave marks on his body.
Feeling himself blush Matt blinked, reigning in his thoughts, realizing that Frank was still waiting for an answer. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
Frank’s gaze sharped. “Does he make you happy, Matt?”
The forthright question pulled Matt completely out of his distraction. A smile pulled his mouth up. Leave it to Frank to not dick around. He looked at his friend.
Frank had his black hair pulled back, gathered into a tie at the base of his neck. The red bandana he often wore lay loose, tied around his neck. His jacket was unzipped, revealing a soft, white collarless shirt that lay tight enough to his body to hint at the strength of him. His brows were slanted over his dark eyes, watching Matt steadily.
“Yeah,” Matt answered honestly. “Yeah he does, very much, actually.”
Frank held his gaze, the expression in his eyes deep and unfathomable, but before Matt could properly wonder about it, Frank was smiling back.
“I’m glad. I just-we all, just want to see you happy, waiyande kew’nal.”
Matt’s eyes widened. “Thanks,” he said. Something warmed inside him.
Frank hadn’t used that nickname for him in a long time. So long, in fact, Matt couldn’t remember the last time. Frank had never used it that often, but used to tease that it meant ‘foolish bird’ in Shoshone, a humorous play on Matt’s last name. Sometime later, Frank had finally confided that it simply meant ‘red-tailed hawk’.
“Hey,” Matt said, reaching out to tug at Frank’s jacket. “I’m sorry I’ve let it go so long. Let’s change that, okay? Let’s get all get together, soon.”
Frank nodded. He held Matt’s gaze, and something in his stance made Matt ask, “Hey, you okay?”
Frank shrugged. “Sure, I’m okay. And please, don’t apologize.”
Matt frowned. The last he knew Frank was dating a lab tech that worked out of the Douglas County Sheriff’s office, Mike McBride’s office. He groped for a name. Frank had never brought his date around the station that Matt knew of. Suddenly it clicked in his memory.
“You and Nic aren’t fighting again, are you?”
Frank snorted. “When are we not? But that’s part of Nic’s charm,” he said, and winked.
Feeling ashamed suddenly that he’d been so consumed in his own affairs that he hadn’t been keeping current with what was going on in the lives of his team, his friends Matt added, “I know everyone’s got stuff going on.”
Frank nodded. “No worries, buddy.”
Matt felt his concern ease, but all the same he added, “Sorry, I’ve just been so caught up on my own stuff lately.”
Frank shook his head. “Hey, I told you, don’t worry about it. You’ve had a lot to deal with.”
Matt sighed. “Yeah, I guess. Maybe things will slow down for us all for a while.”
“Look, Matt,” Frank started, and as Matt looked at him, he hesitated, then after a handful of seconds said, “Just, make sure McKinnon treats you right, okay?”
Touched by his friend’s solemn concern, Matt nodded. “I will. He will.”
Reaching out, Frank slapped his hand against Matt’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get inside, get you off that knee. McKinnon will have my hide if he found I let you off your leash and aggravated it again.”
Matt groaned. “I am an adult, in case everyone hasn’t noticed.”
Frank’s brows lifted. “Oh, we’ve noticed.”
Following Frank into the station, Matt spent the rest of the afternoon twiddling his thumbs, and rubbing his knee. Frank hovered in the background, taking the quiet time to catch up on some inventorying of the equipment he regularly used. They didn’t talk much, but they were good friends so it wasn’t an awkward silence.
Around five o’clock the phone rang.
“Ranger Station, can I help you?” Matt answered, tapping the end of his pen against his desktop.
“You sure can, baby,” the deep voice on the other end replied.
Matt grinned, a shiver running through him. He darted a look to Frank, but the other man was on the other side of the room, unfolding a new climbing harness, checking it over.
“Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific,” he teased.
“Angel, do you really want that, considering you’re sitting in the middle of your workplace?”
Matt chuckled. “You’re right. That’s probably not a good idea, though that hasn’t stopped you before.” He took a breath, running a hand through his hair. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to see what time you think you’ll be home. You gonna run late?”
Somehow, all the annoyed, rough edges Matt had been feeling all day felt smoothed over. Jody was in his home, waiting for him, wanting to see him. Jody and ‘home’ were quickly becoming synonymous in Matt’s mind.
“Nah, shouldn’t be. I mean, I could probably kick out a few minutes early, even.”
“That’s good. Why don’t you do that, if you can? I’d like to finally take you out tonight, if you’re not opposed to the idea.”
Matt sat back in his desk chair, swiveled it around so he could look in the opposite direction from where Frank was busy working with his gear. He tucked the phone’s handset closer to his mouth.
“I’d love to,” he said, smiling, and then wiped a hand over his face as Tim and Robin bustled in through the front doors.
Med kit slung over one shoulder, Robin gave Matt a one-handed wave as she headed through the common room toward the hallway leading to the showers and locker rooms. Tim paused, giving Matt a questioning look, and Matt shook his head and waved him off, letting him know the call wasn’t anything to be concerned about. Tim grinned, flashing him a thumbs up and crossed the room to where Frank was inspecting his equipment.
“I’ll be home in, ah, maybe ten minutes?” Matt said into the phone.
“That’s perfect,” Jody said. He paused, then added, “I’d like to say some things to you right now, but I don’t want to if it’ll put you in a compromising position, but if you’re about to leave the station, I do need you to know something before you come home.”
“Okay,” Matt said slowly, beyond curious. A flush of heat passed through him as he covertly took a check around the room. Robin was still in the back, probably preparing to take a shower, and Tim and Frank weren’t paying him any mind.
Dying to know what Jody had to say, he replied, “I’m fine. Please.” Matt let the word hang between them a second before continuing, “Tell me whatever you need me to know.”
The pause was long enough that Matt was afraid he’d messed up somehow, but then Jody told him, “Ten minutes is perfect. I’ll have your clothes laid out for you by then.”
Matt blinked. That was not at all what he’d expected. “My clothes?” he asked hesitantly.
“Yeah. I’ve chosen something I’d like to see you in tonight. Now, listen carefully, angel.”
Matt dropped his pen, his entire body tightening. God, Jody’s voice, his fucking tone, and Matt had never been seduced by someone over the phone so fucking effortlessly. Sure, he’d screwed around a few times with one or two guys he’d dated, just playing at getting one another off when they couldn’t be together, but this felt different.
This was Jody, and Jody had a plan… Jody had a goal and it wasn’t to just get Matt all hot and bothered. It wasn’t that casual. Matt could hear the intent in his lover’s husky voice.
“I’m listening,” he said evenly, and felt a little proud of how together he sounded. He risked another look across the room, but Tim and Frank were still absorbed in conversation and not looking his way.
“That’s my boy. Now, when you get home, I will expect you to be hard. I expect you to be ready to come for me. I’m gonna put my hands on you baby. I’m gonna get you off, and then, after, I’m going to wash you, and dress you, and take you out, and show you off. Do you understand, Matthew?”
Breathing fast, Matt closed his eyes. Jody made it all sound so simple, so easy. He swallowed before replying. “I understand, Jody.”
“That’s my good boy,” Jody replied, and Matt could hear the smile in his voice. “I should’ve done this already, so everyone knows you’re mine, but, you’ve had a lot on your plate, lately. What do you think?”
Matt’s fingers tightened on the phone’s handset so tightly, he swore he heard it crack. “I…
“Matthew?”
Matt swallowed, pulling himself together. “I can’t wait, Jody.”
He heard Jody release a breath across the line. “I’m glad, baby. I want you to remember, nothing is ever set in stone, so if there’s anything you’d rather not-”
“No.” Matt blurted. “It all sounds fucking perfect, babe.”
Jody chuckled. “Well, all right, then. Come on home, angel. Come home right now.”
Matt nodded, though of course Jody couldn’t see it. “I will. I’ll leave as soon as I hang up.”
“Good boy,” Jody said softly.
Closing his eyes, Matt had to place his curled fist down against the desk to contain the tremor that passed through him.
“And Matthew?”
Jerking to attention, Matt answered. “Yes?”
“Make sure you obey the speed limit on the way home.”
The line clicked off, and Matt sat staring off into space for several seconds.
Sweet Christ, he’s going to kill me.
Every nerve ending in his body buzzing, it took a concentrated effort for Matt to look casual as he hung up the phone. Taking a moment, he focused on his breathing, willing his body to behave, though his cock twitched hard in his pants, was beginning to fill and harden. The feeling of pure possession Jody gave him, just from a phone call, was unbelievable.
He felt like his body was singing.
He felt fucking amazing.
It was as if the compass needle of his spirit had shifted, and was pointing him towards home, toward his man.
Matt shook his head to clear it. Grabbing his jacket, he stood, carefully holding the garment draped over his arm in front of him, just in case anything was… apparent. He had on his form fitting grey pants today, those that tucked the cleanest into his tall boots, and also those that allowed limited room in the crotch to conceal a hard-on. Matt smirked. Jody likely took that little detail into consideration, the bastard, though even as this thought struck, he had to admit that Jody had given fair warning.
Just as sure as the sky was blue, Matt knew if he’d told Jody he couldn’t talk at the moment, that he couldn’t give that sort of attention to him, Jody would not have minded, and he would not have held it against Matt.
Edging his way toward the exit, Matt waited until he was at the doors to call out to Tim and Frank.
“Hey, guys, I’m gonna take off. Jody and I have plans tonight, thought I’d get out of here a little early.”
Both Tim and Frank looked up from their conversation.
“No problem,” Tim said. “You guys don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he added, grinning.
Matt rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry.”
Frank dropped the climbing harness he’d been holding into his duffel. “Hey, Matt. Just remember what I said.”
Matt watched Tim give Frank a curious look, and he sketched a two fingered salute in Frank’s direction.
“See you guys later,” he called out, and turning to the doors stepped through them, and then went down the steps and over the walkway at a fast clip, aching knee or no.
It was time to head home, home to his lover, his lion, home to Jody.
****Additional Notes****
Ahhh! Posting somewhat on the fly, so they may be a ton of typos, but I have some errands to run but I was determined to get this up this weekend before I do all that real life stuff. This chapter originally was supposed to be the 'date' chapter, and some more lovely sexy times, but as usual, I am not in control of this stuff. :D
Matt's knee continues to be vexing, nothing new there, and Jody came out of no where and decided he needs to literally dress his boy up, and show him off....obviously that wasn't the chapter that got written here, so you know what's coming....uh...no pun intended. Frank's appearance wasn't planned either, but again, he stepped up and said, hey, it's my turn and how can I say no?
Frank's nickname for Matt was taken from the Shoshone online dictionary. I have no confidence I got this accurately correct, as I'm woefully not informed in any way in this language beyond looking things up on the internet. There are a ton of different regions and tribes, so I just picked those I thought worked.
Monte's is a real place. I googled popular bars in Bear Valley, and I liked the name.
Mr. Pickles' debut also wasn't planned, but what fic worth anything doesn't have a cat in it, I ask you!
All for now! *poof*
Author: Archet
Pairing: OMC Jody McKinnon/Matt Hawkes
Fandom: High Mountain Rangers
Summary: a story of falling in love, figuring things out and just holding on.
Disclaimer: I did not create the High Mountain Ranger character/s, only this fic and the Original Male Character, Jody McKinnon, and any other original characters in supporting roles. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: this fic is set in 1989, approximately a year and a half after the events of the final episode of High Mountain Rangers. There will be no acknowledgment of the events of the spin-off show Jesse Hawkes.
Note: this fic takes place a little over four months after Bad Luck, Bad Guys and High Mountain Rangers and is a sequel to that fic, so reading that first is recommended.
Additional: this fic will depict same sex relationships. If this ain’t your thing, venture no further.
Warnings this chapter: none really, references to sexual themes & situations
Summary this chapter: Aggravated at being restricted to desk duty, Matt rebels, sort of, and gets caught out by Frank. Meanwhile, Jody calls his boy at work with a request...or is that an order?
****Additional Notes at end of story****
~*~
Chapter 12: Mr. Pickles, a Friend and a Phone Call
Matt fitted the can opener around the edge of the can of tuna, clamped it down, and began opening the tin. At his side, Ms. Merriweather looked anxiously up through the twisting limbs of the massive live oak tree at the figure of the grey tabby cat, perched high above. Having opened the tuna tin, Matt carefully folded the metal lid back, and tapped the can opener on the side of the can.
“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” he called out.
The tabby looked down, yellow eyes regarding Matt with an interested expression.
“Mr. Pickles!” Ms. Merriweather exclaimed, thin voice wavering. “You come down this instant!”
Matt hid a smile. It was rumored that Mr. Pickles had come by his name due to the late Mr. Merriweather having had been a big fan of dill pickles. Ms. Merriweather’s dill pickle recipe had seen her place first in the county fair’s pickled vegetable contest for at least the last ten years; much to the consternation of a certain sect of the community. Each year there were rumors of pay-off’s or flagrant cheating, though nothing had ever been proved as far as Matt knew.
Personally, he believed Ms. Merriweather rather liked all the attention she and her prized pickles received every summer as the fair rolled around. Above them, Mr. Pickles meowed plaintively. Arching his back, he stretched out his front paws to claw at the limb he balanced on.
Matt sighed, and tapped the tuna can again. “Come on, Mr. Pickles. You know the drill.”
In fact, they all knew the drill, Mr. Pickles most of all. It was a pattern that repeated about every three months. The rather rotund tabby cat would climb one of the trees in Ms. Merriweather’s back yard and refuse to come down.
Now, his long tail whipping back and forth, Mr. Pickles waffled for a moment, and then finally hopped down a couple branches, but just as Matt was feeling hopeful, the cat stopped. The bright yellow eyes blinked, and leaning against the oak’s trunk, Mr. Pickles rubbed his furred cheek against the rough bark. Mr. Pickles had stalled out on a limb, still many feet out of reach.
Matt looked down at the light touch to his arm. Ms. Merriweather’s anxious brown eyes were apologetic. “I’m so sorry, Matthew.”
Matt smiled. Again, personally, he believed the whole predicament was somehow engineered by Ms. Merriweather in a bid for attention, or just some company. It wasn’t something he could prove, and wouldn’t even if he wanted to. Ms. Merriweather had become sort of an honorary grandma to the rangers, and they diligently looked after her, and by default, Mr. Pickles.
Besides, Matt loved the cherry pies she often brought around to the station as a thank you for their regular assistance. There was no way was he able to endanger that arrangement. Best not to upset the apple cart… or the cherry cart... whatever.
“It’s no problem, Ms. Merriweather.”
Perhaps detecting a whiff of tuna, or sensing his owner’s distress, Mr. Pickles again began making his way down the oak.
“See, here he comes,” Matt said, watching the tabby carefully navigate from limb to limb.
The cat came to a stop several feet above Matt’s head, standing in the crook of one limb where it joined to the oak’s thick trunk. Matt raised the tin of tuna. Mr. Pickles meowed, and patted his paws against the bark of the limb with such fervor, he nearly lost his footing. The silver bell on his bright green collar tinkled merrily.
“Oh!” Ms. Merriweather cried out, pressing the folded handkerchief she’d been wringing in her hands against her mouth.
Above them, Mr. Pickles scrambled back up on his limb, and meowed again. Matt sighed, sensing defeat. Curbing the urge to swear out loud, he bent down and set the can of tuna and can opener on the grass.
“It’s all right; I’ll go up and get him.”
Stepping up to the tree, Matt considered the easiest way up. Stretching up his arms, he grabbed hold of the nearest limb, and hosted himself up, setting his booted feet against the oak’s trunk. Luckily the oak was old, and stout, and had several easily accessible limbs for someone of Matt’s stature. Gaining purchase on the first limb, Matt hauled himself up, took a breath, and continued shimming his way toward Mr. Pickles, who had lain down, yellow eyes steadily watching Matt’s approach.
After a minute or so, Matt drew within eye level with the feline.
“You better behave,” he muttered, and hooked a hand under Mr. Pickles’ round tummy.
Initially the feline protested with an unhappy howl and clung stubbornly to his limb by sinking his claws into the oak’s bark, but Matt was undeterred. Eventually he was able to extract the cat, and tucked the furry body tightly under his arm. He kept his hold snug as Mr. Pickles wiggled.
“You’re more trouble than you’re worth,” he muttered.
At Matt’s voice Mr. Pickles blinked, relaxed, and rubbed his big head against Matt’s jacket, purring loudly.
Their descent was uneventful, though as Matt handed the cat down into Ms. Merriweather’s outstretched arms, and then swung out of the tree, his felt a painful twinge in his left knee as his feet hit the ground.
Well, shit.
Straightening, Matt blew out a breath and smiled as Ms. Merriweather admonished the grey tabby even as she cradled him in her arms, scratching his tummy. Brushing cat hair from his jacket, Matt collected the tuna and can opener and escorted the pair across the short yard to the screen porch attached to the back of Ms. Merriweather’s wood frame cottage style house. After handing off the tuna for Mr. Pickles to enjoy later, he pocketed the can opener, made his goodbyes and headed back to the Blazer he’d parked out past Ms. Merriweather’s rose garden. Sliding back in behind the wheel, he felt another complaint from his knee, and knew he probably needed to bump up his next physical therapy appointment.
Starting up the truck, he headed back to the station. The drive was short, only a few minutes, and as he pulled into the station’s parking area, he spotted Frank Avila standing on the veranda, leaning against a support post, arms crossed. Matt sighed. Since he’d been confined to desk duty for the past week and a half, his team had become somewhat obsessive about making sure he stuck to the rules, and none of them had been shy about reminding him just what ‘light duty’ meant.
Matt knew what it meant… boredom. Though, he had to admit, he’d made astonishing headway on the stack of paperwork that seemed to perpetually inhabit the inbox tray on his desk. He supposed he should be grateful for the downtime; it’d meant he had a more predictable schedule, and got home much earlier than usual, this being made even more appealing by having Jody waiting for him there each night.
Even still, it rankled, having to watch his team go out on calls while he was confined to the station, regulated to shuffling papers around and manning the phone and short wave radio. He missed the thrill of the field, he missing being outside, but most of all, he worried about something happening to one of his team in his absence. Now, a week and a half into his two week sentence, found him in a sour mood so that even Tim had taken to stepping lightly around him.
Matt wasn’t particularly proud of it, and he’d tried to curb his contrariness, but he just wasn’t made to sit around indoors, especially when he felt fine. It’d been a stroke of luck that Ms. Merriweather had called when every one of his team had been either out on a call, or out on a supply run. Matt could’ve waited for one of them to return, but he’d made the bid for a bit of freedom, and even as his knee tweaked again, he wasn’t sorry.
Pulling into the station’s parking area, Matt shut off the truck and got out, slamming its door shut behind him. He started up the paved walkway to the station, disguising as best he could his renewed limp. He wondered briefly if he could blame it on sitting at a desk too long.
Fuck.
His knee had been behaving, mostly, since he’d been taking it easy, but his little outing had strained something.
Cats, man.
Taking his time going up the steps to the station’s entrance, he paused halfway up. Avila, his head tilted to one side, was watching him with a smirk. Matt felt his annoyance well up, and he gritted his teeth. It didn’t help that his knee chose that moment to twinge again, a low level throb that warned him that getting his weight off it for a bit would be wise.
“Have fun?” Frank asked lightly.
Matt sighed, deciding it wasn’t worth a subterfuge.
Christ, you’d think I was still a probie.
“It was just Mr. Pickles up that big ass oak again, is all. It’s not like I went free climbing, or anything. It took all of twenty minutes.”
Avila uncrossed his arms and pushed off his post. “Then why are you limping again?”
“I’m not-”
“Don’t try and buffalo me,” Frank warned.
Matt rested one hand against the railing bordering the steps, and leaned against it. “What I was going to say, is that I’m not limping that much,” he managed to get out under Frank’s narrowed gaze. “I just tweaked it getting the cat down.”
Frank lifted a brow. “You reckon?”
Getting a little petulant, Matt nodded. “Yeah. That’s what I reckon.”
The two men stared at one another, then Frank’s mouth twitched up. “All right, I won’t tell, this time, but don’t blame me when you get found out.”
Feeling his annoyance fade, Matt chuckled. “Deal.” He mounted the remaining steps and drew even with Frank. “Look, next time we’re at Monte’s I owe you a round.”
Frank snorted. “I’ll hold you to that. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you at Monte’s.”
Matt tried to recall that last time he’d been down to their favorite bar. The Monte Wolfe Saloon had the best brews and live music in Bear Valley. The rangers liked to gather there when they had downtime to shoot pool and watch the biggest, most contentious football and hockey games. They had a table of their own in the back room by the pool table.
“I guess it has been a while,” Matt admitted.
“McKinnon’s keeping you occupied, seems like,” Frank said.
Frank wasn’t wrong. The last couple weeks Jody had spent his days and nights at Matt’s cabin, only returning to his own rental to pick up some clothes and toiletries. He’d cooked for Matt, and made sure he rested, made sure Matt did his at home physical therapy routines like he ought to… and afterwards, they’d made love in Matt’s bed, every night.
The first few times after Matt’s mandatory bed rest had passed, Jody had been tender, achingly so, taking Matt slowly, sweetly, his loving as gentle as a summer rain. It’d been almost a new kind of lovemaking to Matt, almost a revelation that a man as physically strong and intense as Jody could be so deferential, and sweet. Matt had loved every moment of it, though he was eager for the return of his lion, his lover who liked to pin him down and fuck him until he submitted utterly, who liked to leave marks on his body.
Feeling himself blush Matt blinked, reigning in his thoughts, realizing that Frank was still waiting for an answer. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
Frank’s gaze sharped. “Does he make you happy, Matt?”
The forthright question pulled Matt completely out of his distraction. A smile pulled his mouth up. Leave it to Frank to not dick around. He looked at his friend.
Frank had his black hair pulled back, gathered into a tie at the base of his neck. The red bandana he often wore lay loose, tied around his neck. His jacket was unzipped, revealing a soft, white collarless shirt that lay tight enough to his body to hint at the strength of him. His brows were slanted over his dark eyes, watching Matt steadily.
“Yeah,” Matt answered honestly. “Yeah he does, very much, actually.”
Frank held his gaze, the expression in his eyes deep and unfathomable, but before Matt could properly wonder about it, Frank was smiling back.
“I’m glad. I just-we all, just want to see you happy, waiyande kew’nal.”
Matt’s eyes widened. “Thanks,” he said. Something warmed inside him.
Frank hadn’t used that nickname for him in a long time. So long, in fact, Matt couldn’t remember the last time. Frank had never used it that often, but used to tease that it meant ‘foolish bird’ in Shoshone, a humorous play on Matt’s last name. Sometime later, Frank had finally confided that it simply meant ‘red-tailed hawk’.
“Hey,” Matt said, reaching out to tug at Frank’s jacket. “I’m sorry I’ve let it go so long. Let’s change that, okay? Let’s get all get together, soon.”
Frank nodded. He held Matt’s gaze, and something in his stance made Matt ask, “Hey, you okay?”
Frank shrugged. “Sure, I’m okay. And please, don’t apologize.”
Matt frowned. The last he knew Frank was dating a lab tech that worked out of the Douglas County Sheriff’s office, Mike McBride’s office. He groped for a name. Frank had never brought his date around the station that Matt knew of. Suddenly it clicked in his memory.
“You and Nic aren’t fighting again, are you?”
Frank snorted. “When are we not? But that’s part of Nic’s charm,” he said, and winked.
Feeling ashamed suddenly that he’d been so consumed in his own affairs that he hadn’t been keeping current with what was going on in the lives of his team, his friends Matt added, “I know everyone’s got stuff going on.”
Frank nodded. “No worries, buddy.”
Matt felt his concern ease, but all the same he added, “Sorry, I’ve just been so caught up on my own stuff lately.”
Frank shook his head. “Hey, I told you, don’t worry about it. You’ve had a lot to deal with.”
Matt sighed. “Yeah, I guess. Maybe things will slow down for us all for a while.”
“Look, Matt,” Frank started, and as Matt looked at him, he hesitated, then after a handful of seconds said, “Just, make sure McKinnon treats you right, okay?”
Touched by his friend’s solemn concern, Matt nodded. “I will. He will.”
Reaching out, Frank slapped his hand against Matt’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get inside, get you off that knee. McKinnon will have my hide if he found I let you off your leash and aggravated it again.”
Matt groaned. “I am an adult, in case everyone hasn’t noticed.”
Frank’s brows lifted. “Oh, we’ve noticed.”
Following Frank into the station, Matt spent the rest of the afternoon twiddling his thumbs, and rubbing his knee. Frank hovered in the background, taking the quiet time to catch up on some inventorying of the equipment he regularly used. They didn’t talk much, but they were good friends so it wasn’t an awkward silence.
Around five o’clock the phone rang.
“Ranger Station, can I help you?” Matt answered, tapping the end of his pen against his desktop.
“You sure can, baby,” the deep voice on the other end replied.
Matt grinned, a shiver running through him. He darted a look to Frank, but the other man was on the other side of the room, unfolding a new climbing harness, checking it over.
“Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific,” he teased.
“Angel, do you really want that, considering you’re sitting in the middle of your workplace?”
Matt chuckled. “You’re right. That’s probably not a good idea, though that hasn’t stopped you before.” He took a breath, running a hand through his hair. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to see what time you think you’ll be home. You gonna run late?”
Somehow, all the annoyed, rough edges Matt had been feeling all day felt smoothed over. Jody was in his home, waiting for him, wanting to see him. Jody and ‘home’ were quickly becoming synonymous in Matt’s mind.
“Nah, shouldn’t be. I mean, I could probably kick out a few minutes early, even.”
“That’s good. Why don’t you do that, if you can? I’d like to finally take you out tonight, if you’re not opposed to the idea.”
Matt sat back in his desk chair, swiveled it around so he could look in the opposite direction from where Frank was busy working with his gear. He tucked the phone’s handset closer to his mouth.
“I’d love to,” he said, smiling, and then wiped a hand over his face as Tim and Robin bustled in through the front doors.
Med kit slung over one shoulder, Robin gave Matt a one-handed wave as she headed through the common room toward the hallway leading to the showers and locker rooms. Tim paused, giving Matt a questioning look, and Matt shook his head and waved him off, letting him know the call wasn’t anything to be concerned about. Tim grinned, flashing him a thumbs up and crossed the room to where Frank was inspecting his equipment.
“I’ll be home in, ah, maybe ten minutes?” Matt said into the phone.
“That’s perfect,” Jody said. He paused, then added, “I’d like to say some things to you right now, but I don’t want to if it’ll put you in a compromising position, but if you’re about to leave the station, I do need you to know something before you come home.”
“Okay,” Matt said slowly, beyond curious. A flush of heat passed through him as he covertly took a check around the room. Robin was still in the back, probably preparing to take a shower, and Tim and Frank weren’t paying him any mind.
Dying to know what Jody had to say, he replied, “I’m fine. Please.” Matt let the word hang between them a second before continuing, “Tell me whatever you need me to know.”
The pause was long enough that Matt was afraid he’d messed up somehow, but then Jody told him, “Ten minutes is perfect. I’ll have your clothes laid out for you by then.”
Matt blinked. That was not at all what he’d expected. “My clothes?” he asked hesitantly.
“Yeah. I’ve chosen something I’d like to see you in tonight. Now, listen carefully, angel.”
Matt dropped his pen, his entire body tightening. God, Jody’s voice, his fucking tone, and Matt had never been seduced by someone over the phone so fucking effortlessly. Sure, he’d screwed around a few times with one or two guys he’d dated, just playing at getting one another off when they couldn’t be together, but this felt different.
This was Jody, and Jody had a plan… Jody had a goal and it wasn’t to just get Matt all hot and bothered. It wasn’t that casual. Matt could hear the intent in his lover’s husky voice.
“I’m listening,” he said evenly, and felt a little proud of how together he sounded. He risked another look across the room, but Tim and Frank were still absorbed in conversation and not looking his way.
“That’s my boy. Now, when you get home, I will expect you to be hard. I expect you to be ready to come for me. I’m gonna put my hands on you baby. I’m gonna get you off, and then, after, I’m going to wash you, and dress you, and take you out, and show you off. Do you understand, Matthew?”
Breathing fast, Matt closed his eyes. Jody made it all sound so simple, so easy. He swallowed before replying. “I understand, Jody.”
“That’s my good boy,” Jody replied, and Matt could hear the smile in his voice. “I should’ve done this already, so everyone knows you’re mine, but, you’ve had a lot on your plate, lately. What do you think?”
Matt’s fingers tightened on the phone’s handset so tightly, he swore he heard it crack. “I…
“Matthew?”
Matt swallowed, pulling himself together. “I can’t wait, Jody.”
He heard Jody release a breath across the line. “I’m glad, baby. I want you to remember, nothing is ever set in stone, so if there’s anything you’d rather not-”
“No.” Matt blurted. “It all sounds fucking perfect, babe.”
Jody chuckled. “Well, all right, then. Come on home, angel. Come home right now.”
Matt nodded, though of course Jody couldn’t see it. “I will. I’ll leave as soon as I hang up.”
“Good boy,” Jody said softly.
Closing his eyes, Matt had to place his curled fist down against the desk to contain the tremor that passed through him.
“And Matthew?”
Jerking to attention, Matt answered. “Yes?”
“Make sure you obey the speed limit on the way home.”
The line clicked off, and Matt sat staring off into space for several seconds.
Sweet Christ, he’s going to kill me.
Every nerve ending in his body buzzing, it took a concentrated effort for Matt to look casual as he hung up the phone. Taking a moment, he focused on his breathing, willing his body to behave, though his cock twitched hard in his pants, was beginning to fill and harden. The feeling of pure possession Jody gave him, just from a phone call, was unbelievable.
He felt like his body was singing.
He felt fucking amazing.
It was as if the compass needle of his spirit had shifted, and was pointing him towards home, toward his man.
Matt shook his head to clear it. Grabbing his jacket, he stood, carefully holding the garment draped over his arm in front of him, just in case anything was… apparent. He had on his form fitting grey pants today, those that tucked the cleanest into his tall boots, and also those that allowed limited room in the crotch to conceal a hard-on. Matt smirked. Jody likely took that little detail into consideration, the bastard, though even as this thought struck, he had to admit that Jody had given fair warning.
Just as sure as the sky was blue, Matt knew if he’d told Jody he couldn’t talk at the moment, that he couldn’t give that sort of attention to him, Jody would not have minded, and he would not have held it against Matt.
Edging his way toward the exit, Matt waited until he was at the doors to call out to Tim and Frank.
“Hey, guys, I’m gonna take off. Jody and I have plans tonight, thought I’d get out of here a little early.”
Both Tim and Frank looked up from their conversation.
“No problem,” Tim said. “You guys don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he added, grinning.
Matt rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry.”
Frank dropped the climbing harness he’d been holding into his duffel. “Hey, Matt. Just remember what I said.”
Matt watched Tim give Frank a curious look, and he sketched a two fingered salute in Frank’s direction.
“See you guys later,” he called out, and turning to the doors stepped through them, and then went down the steps and over the walkway at a fast clip, aching knee or no.
It was time to head home, home to his lover, his lion, home to Jody.
****Additional Notes****
Ahhh! Posting somewhat on the fly, so they may be a ton of typos, but I have some errands to run but I was determined to get this up this weekend before I do all that real life stuff. This chapter originally was supposed to be the 'date' chapter, and some more lovely sexy times, but as usual, I am not in control of this stuff. :D
Matt's knee continues to be vexing, nothing new there, and Jody came out of no where and decided he needs to literally dress his boy up, and show him off....obviously that wasn't the chapter that got written here, so you know what's coming....uh...no pun intended. Frank's appearance wasn't planned either, but again, he stepped up and said, hey, it's my turn and how can I say no?
Frank's nickname for Matt was taken from the Shoshone online dictionary. I have no confidence I got this accurately correct, as I'm woefully not informed in any way in this language beyond looking things up on the internet. There are a ton of different regions and tribes, so I just picked those I thought worked.
Monte's is a real place. I googled popular bars in Bear Valley, and I liked the name.
Mr. Pickles' debut also wasn't planned, but what fic worth anything doesn't have a cat in it, I ask you!
All for now! *poof*
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Also, Avila — I remember his tight white shirt and some tasty biceps!
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Ah, Avila, he may be my second favorite ranger, at the moment, and yet for some reason I feel compelled to pile angst upon him. And ah, yes, those white shirts really show off the tasty biceps!
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If Matt keeps going on like that, his knee is not gonna get any better. Maybe it was about time someone rats him out ;)
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Mmm, with Jody's rather narrow focus on his boy, I'd bet Matt won't even need to be ratted out, Jody will figure out that he's been misbehaving. ;D
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To be honest, I don't think Jody will have to be so focused on Matt. I wouldn't be surprised if at one point, Matt deliberately tell him that he was a naughty boy, because... well ;)
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Ohh...get outta my story notes! Yeah, I think Matt may find that being naughty comes with its own set of pleasurable repercussions. But that's pure speculation. We'll have to wait and see! :D