9. CJ
CJ
I sit through the finance call, listening to the guy on the other end drone on about budgets and projections. A dull pressure builds behind my eyes. My patience thins with every word he drags out, and I have to unclench my jaw before it locks.
Finance is Deck’s territory, but he’s grabbing coffee. Not that he’d be much help. He’d probably be sitting there drawing whatever the fuck ends up in that notebook of his.
Birds. Planes. Random circles. It drives me absolutely insane.
I’d deliberately throw questions at him during meetings, convinced he wasn’t paying attention.
Every single time, that bastard answered with more detail than anyone else in the room and usually offered two or three solutions while he was at it.
A reluctant smile pulls at my mouth. Deck drives me insane, but he’s the only person I trust to catch what I miss.
He listened. He just didn’t look as if he were listening. Odd, but it worked, so eventually I stopped calling him out on it. I trusted him to do his job, and he did it damn well.
My gaze drifts across the office, skimming desks and computer screens without really seeing any of them.
I’m not looking for anything. I’m looking for him.
My pulse shifts, steady but heavier. I tell myself it’s nothing, but the lie sits wrong in my chest.
The man who kept me awake the last night with his screams. And when I wasn’t hearing him, he was in my dreams.
The memory tightens something low in my stomach. His voice still echoes in the quiet moments, sharp enough to keep me awake.
His eyes, those lips, those piercings, holy fuck, those piercings. Heat flickers under my skin. I shift in my seat, adjusting my cock subtly before anyone notices.
Fuck.
I watch as Eli sits beside Finn. It’s fast becoming a familiar sight, Finn talking a mile a minute while Eli simply listens, the corners of his mouth lifting more often than they had this morning.
His shoulders aren’t quite as tight. His blond hair keeps slipping into his eyes, and every so often he brushes it away without thinking. Even his eyes seem a lighter color today. Something warm settles in my chest. It’s subtle, but it’s there, and I hate how easily it shows up.
His purple nail polish chipped from the tips of his nails. I should buy him another bottle. The thought hits too fast. Too intimate. My stomach tightens, and I force myself to look away.
I immediately shake my head. Where the fuck did that come from?
I glance back toward them. He is less guarded here, less rigid. I remember back to last night when he flinched whenever I moved too quickly.
This morning he did it when I handed him his breakfast. A sharp ache cuts through my chest. I slow my movements now without thinking, careful not to trigger whatever memory sits behind his eyes.
And there is the way he sat waiting for me to eat first. It’s as if he is waiting for permission. And that stirs something ugly inside me. My jaw tightens. The urge to break something rises fast, violent, and I have to breathe through it.
Someone taught him to flinch.
Someone taught him to wait.
Someone taught him to fear.
And those nightmares. The screams that tore out of his room last night. I knew those sounds. I’d heard them in barracks, field hospitals, bunk rooms. I’d heard them coming from myself.
Trauma has a voice, and it doesn’t matter whether it comes from a soldier or a civilian. Terror sounds the same, fear sounds the same, and I know Eli carried both. A cold heaviness settles in my chest. I’ve seen men crumble under less, and Eli carries it like it’s stitched into his bones.
I watch Finn and Eli, and I want to know what happened to him.
Why do I want to find whoever put that fear in his eyes and make them pay?
Anger churns in my stomach as I watch him.
Something shifts in his expression, and he turns and looks straight at me.
My breath catches. Just for a second. Enough to feel it.
I’m caught. For a second, our eyes meet. Just for a second.
My meeting ends, and I head for my office. At that moment, the front door opened, and I swear the temperature drops five degrees. The giant redhead walked in carrying enough presence to silence half the office without saying a word.
“Deck!” Finn waved him over.
I immediately noticed the change in Eli.
His shoulders rounded, and he turned slightly away from Deck, and I watched as he lowered his gaze to his clasped hands.
Eli looks like prey, and I watch as Deck catches it all in a heartbeat.
My stomach twists. The instinct to step between them hits hard and fast.
I watch as he slows his stride and somehow softens his entire presence, and I have no clue how he manages it, but he’s making himself smaller, for Eli.
Deck stops a full step away from them before Finn speaks.
“Deck, this is Eli. CJ found him, and he’s staying with him for a while.”
Deck offers his hand and lowers himself slightly. “Nice to meet you.”
Eli shakes it. “You too,” his voice barely a whisper. The sound is too soft. Too careful. It makes my chest tighten.
The eye contact barely lasts a second before Eli drops his gaze back to his hands. Finn notices, and a brief frown hits his face before replacing it with a smile. He grabs Eli’s hand as Deck asks Eli,
“What do you do for a job? Lawyer, bartender, Doc, Nurse, Undertaker?”
Eli’s head snapped up. This time, he keeps eye contact with Deck a little longer, frowns, and then looks again at his hands. “Nurse.”
Deck nods, “Good.”
Eli looks at Deck, then at Finn, then back at Deck. “Why?” His confusion is written across every line of his body. It makes something protective rise in me again.
Deck grins and says proudly,
“Because, Eli, I’ve taken three bullets and survived two stabbings, and I like the idea of having someone on call.”
He grins at Finn, “And he can’t stitch for shit.”
I catch as Finn’s face goes tight and a small smile appears on Eli’s lips.
Finn stands. “Fuck you, Lumberjack.”
Deck grins, and Finn sighs loudly, crosses his arms, and scowls at Deck.
“That kinda sounds like a solid reason not to give up your day job,” Eli says quietly.
Deck throws his head back and laughs. Finn giggles with Eli, then looks at Deck, and then I watch as Finn’s expression softens.
What the fuck was that?
Deck looks at Eli. “Do you know how useful a nurse around here is?”
“I’d assume, reasonably useful?”
“You’re hired.”
Deck straightens, causing Eli to blink at him.
“I’m sorry, I’m what? And how the hell did you know I was a nurse?”
Deck shrugs, “No reason, just threw it out there. Who would have thought I would have such great instincts? And I know, Eli, you are a good one.” Then he turns and walks away, leaving Eli staring after him in disbelief.
Finn has Eli set up at the empty desk beside him. He gives him a few tasks, and throughout the morning I catch Eli completely absorbed in his work.
By midday, Finn had somehow convinced Eli to go to the Lunch Shack on the corner. I’d asked Eli to lunch, but he politely turned it down, and now he’s walking out with Finn. No idea how that happened.
Eli and Finn returned later and settled back at their desks. I head to the kitchen to grab coffee and take the long route through the office, definitely not trying to pass the - nope, not at all. As I approach, I overhear Finn,
“He does this. CJ. He adopts people.”
I stopped beside them. “I heard that.”
“Good, it’s accurate.”
I stare at him. “Finn.”
“Yeah?”
“Run.”
Finn grins. “What, like that’s a threat?”
I laugh and continue to my office, throwing over my shoulder, “Expected.”
* * *
Later, I find Finn and Eli in the lunchroom sharing coffee. I pause outside the door. I shouldn’t listen, but I listen anyway. My pulse slows. I shouldn’t care this much, but I do.
“Okay, important information, Eli.”
“Shit, I’m concerned already.”
Finn points at him. “You should be.”
I hear Eli’s chuckle, and then he asks, “What’s up with Deck?”
Finn leans forward and lowers his voice.
“He started this place with CJ. They served in the military together. I still don’t know exactly what they did, but both of them are scary as hell when they want to be.”
He paused.
“Deck looks gruff, but underneath it all he’s basically a giant teddy bear.” Finn shakes his head. “Nah, He’s deadly.”
I watch as Finn rests his chin on his hand and his eyes soften, and his little smile appears. I catch the look and something in me shifts. Deck isn’t subtle, but this is.
“Umm, okay. He doesn’t really seem that scary.” Eli states.
Finn sighs dreamily, “Oh, my sweet, sweet child. Nah, he isn’t scary. He is deadly. Big difference. I would want him or CJ in my corner if things go tits up, Eli. He is just so… ,” Finn puts his head in his hand, “… Deck,” he sighs.
Eli smiles, “So, is he married, partner?”
Finn snorts, “No. No partner that I know of. CJ and Deck are openly gay, not that it should matter. People should be who they want to be. People shouldn’t put us in a box, or be told you can’t be gay.” He says with a tinge of anger.
Okay, where did that come from?
“He’s a bear,” Finn says quietly, “And I wish I was his Twink. But he doesn’t see me like that.”
He frowns and continues, “Eli, I have been completely friend-zoned by that lumberjack, and I hate it. Friend zones can fuck off.”
Eli smiles and pats Finn’s hand. “Maybe one day he will come round.” Finn nods and sips his coffee.
Well. There it is. Finn has a crush on Deck, and judging by the look Deck gave him earlier, I can’t help but think that the feeling goes both ways.
I leave them to their conversation.
* * *
An hour later, I find Deck showing Eli his scar photos on his phone.
Why? Fuck knows.
Sometimes even Deck doesn’t understand Deck. The man looks delighted.
“Wanna see this one?”
“No.”
“Bullet.”
“I’m not sure if that’s something to be proud of, Deck.”
“Oh, I am,” Deck grins, tapping the screen. “I survived.”
Eli grins at Deck, and I interrupt,
“What the fuck are you doing, Deck?”
“Showing my boy here my scars.”
I bristle.
Not your boy.
Mine…Fuck.
Heat flashes through me, sharp and territorial. I swallow it down, but it doesn’t move.
Deck looks at me with this little grin on his lips, as if the fucker knows what I’m thinking. Jesus Christ, what the hell is wrong with me?
Eli isn’t mine either. I glance at him, and he has folded himself inward again. Curled up again, waiting. My chest tightens painfully. I crouch without thinking, trying to make myself smaller, safer.
“Eli.”
His eyes flick up to mine before dropping again. My eyes flick to Deck; I raise an eyebrow. He’s frowning. A warning sits in his expression. He gives me the slightest shake of his head, and I look back at Eli.
“I’m sorry.”
His eyes lift again. “It’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t,” I say. “I didn’t mean to sound angry, and I’m sorry if I scared you.” His eyes meet mine, and something sharp and fragile settles between us.
Eli finally holds my gaze, and my pulse kicks. I watch as his eyes widen slightly, and something shifts between us. Invisible and weightless but real enough that we both feel it.
My pulse kicks hard. I don’t look away. Neither does he.
Deck catches my eye and jerks his head toward my office.
“Come on.”
* * *
Deck doesn’t wait, just walks away. I follow him into my office, closing the door before leaning on my desk.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Deck asks, folding his arms across his chest.
“My problem?”
He points a finger at me, “Yeah, yours. You’ve been stomping around that kid all day like a bear with a sore ass.”
I scrub a hand over my face. The truth lands heavier than the insult. “Bit graphic.”
Deck frowns at me, and I rub my hand over my face. “Fine, I scared him.”
“Yeah,” Deck nodded. “You did.”
Silence settles between us. Deck studies me for a long moment before letting out a slow breath.
“CJ, whatever happened to him, it isn’t small.”
My jaw tightens. “I know.”
“No,” his voice calm. “I don’t think you do.”
I open my mouth, but he keeps going,
“That boy is carrying enough trauma to sink a fucking fleet. He wears it everywhere he goes. Every time someone moves too fast. Every time a voice gets too loud. Every time someone stands too close.”
His eyes locked with mine. “It owns him right now.”
My breath stutters. The urge to protect him rises fast and violent. Something rips into my chest. “I know.”
“You know it happened.” Deck says quietly, “I don’t think you understand how deep it runs.”
I look away first. That alone tells me he’s right.
He continues, “If you did, you’d understand how scared he is.”
The words hit harder than they should.
“And you have to be gentler, CJ.”
Fuck.
“There’s something about him, Deck.” I say as I scrub my hand across my face.
Deck doesn’t speak, just waits.
“I want to find whoever put that look in his eyes and make them fucking disappear.”
Deck nods slowly, “I know.” His voice softens. “I get it.”
He pushes away from the wall. “But that’s not what he needs from you right now.”
I frown.
“He needs space,” Deck shrugs. “He needs safety and somewhere to breathe without looking over his shoulder.”
Something about that makes my stomach tie up in knots, and Deck sees it.
“Maybe that’s all this is, CJ.”
“What.”
He shrugs, “Maybe you’re not supposed to fix him.”
The words grate against every instinct I have. My jaw tightens until it aches. I hate that answer right away, and his mouth twitches at that.
“I know. You hate that.”
“Damn right I do.”
Deck is silent for a bit, then says, “Maybe all you’re supposed to do is give him somewhere safe to land. He’ll talk when he’s ready.”
Deck points at me, “And when he does, shut the fuck up and listen.”
“Righto, Doctor Phil.”
“Fuck you.”
Deck heads for the door before stopping with his hand on the handle.
“CJ.”
I look at him.
“Be careful with him.” The grin is gone now… along with the amusement.
A cold weight settles in my chest. I nod once, unable to say anything that won’t give too much away.
“People like Eli don’t scare easily because they’re weak. They scare easily because somebody taught them they should.”
The words settled heavily between us like wet concrete.
“And if he decides you’re safe,” Deck opens the door, “Don’t fuck that up.”
The door closes quietly behind him, and the weight of his words sinks into me, settling heavy and tight in my chest.