Page 8 of Uncharted

“Uh, one had dark hair, the other was blond like me. Um, both smart, I guess.”

“Skinny? Built? Tall, short?”

“Oh, both pretty skinny,” I admitted. “A little shorter than me, but I’m above average, so that’s not shocking.”

“They were on the pretty side, weren’t they?”

“I…yeah, I guess, yeah. Why?”

“I dunno, it just seems like the sorta thing a straight guy would choose to try experimenting with other guys,” he said with a snort, and after realizing I wasn’t trusting him enough to get close to help a fully grown man up off the ground after I put him there, he picked himself up.

“I…don’t follow,” I said, still watching him carefully.

“Of course ya don’t,” he said with a chuckle, and I sighed, knowing I must have missed something obvious to everyone else but me…again.

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled.

“Aw, don’t,” he said and slapped me between the shoulder blades, his fingers curling around the back of my neck. “It makes sense is all. I’ve seen the girls you’re into, so it makes sense that ya would go for guys that were…pretty.”

“Not sure ‘pretty’ is the word I’d use for them,” I said, then thought about it. “Well, I guess you could call them that. I wouldn’t, but I could…okay, sure, maybe.”

He chuckled and shook me gently. “Not sayin’ it would make a difference if ya picked someone who wasn’t pretty and went for someone, I dunno, bigger or like…less pretty.”

“Someone like you?” I asked wryly, a nervous ball forming in my gut.

“Yeah, maybe all ya really want and don’t know it yet, is to have someone bigger manhandle ya and bend ya backwards,” he said and then laughed at the god-awful squawk I let out at his suggestion. “You’re too easy.”

“And you’re…fucking quit!” I snapped in surprise as his grip shifted instantly to my side, where he wrapped an impossibly thick, strong arm around me and hoisted me up. I was not a little man; I wasn’t huge, but I wasn’t small either, which meant that until I had come to the outpost, I had never been manhandled so easily. “What are you doing?”

“Finding a big, messy puddle for you,” he told me.

“Absolutely the fuck not!” I barked, wriggling as his shoulder dug into my gut. Not that there was much for me to do dangling over his shoulder except stare down the broad expanse of his back. I wriggled forward as best I could and, rearing back, slapped his ass hard.

“Hey, ow,” he said, but laughed as he shifted me so I couldn’t reach his ass. “At least buy me dinner first.”

“Absolutely not, you’re not worth a quarter pounder in exchange for a blowjob behind a dumpster,” I told him. It wasn’t the first time he’d picked me up, and it wasn’t the first time I’d been left with a bizarre mixture of exhilaration and a squirming feeling of…anticipation. I’d never been able to make sense of what that combination was other than the weirdness of being manhandled so easily.

“Definitely going in a puddle for that one,” he informed me and laughed when I fought even harder.

“Jesus, you better not, or I’m going to tell everyone you manhandled me like a caveman to prove I want a big dumb brute for my first time with a guy!” I warned him.

“First, who’s sayin’ that’s not what I’m doin’?” he asked, and although I couldn’t see his face, I knew he was grinning. “And second, you tryin’ to say ya want a first time with a guy?”

“Put me down!” I protested. “Don’t you dare put me in the puddle.”

“Accept your fate,” he told me, and I knew he was right. There was nothing I could do to fight him if he really wanted to throw me in a puddle…except⁠—

“And what if I got my hands on that tequila you like so much,” I told him, and smiled when he stopped, thinking about it.

“I could find it,” he said.

“Then why haven’t you?”

“I haven’t tried.”

“Alright, toss me in the puddle and try. Or…you can keep me clean and dry, and I’ll hunt down a bottle just for you.”

There was another moment of hesitation before he grunted and put me down. “Fine, but ya better be quick about it.”