All he could see were the scars and the deadness of eyes as he nervously stood and waited for Livingston to get their packs out of the helicopter. The two men weren’t overly tall, shorter than Livingston, but their sheer mass was frightening. They didn’t approach just simply stood there staring with rifles in their right hands aimed at the ground.

The whir of the blades almost drowned out Livingston thanking Sin and Saint for the lift. A strong hand was placed on the small of his back, and he was nudged forward. He glanced back as Livingston grabbed their bags and he slowly walked forward. The wind died down, and it slowly grew quiet.

“Freddie, Horace, been awhile,” Livingston greeted the men, but he noticed Livingston didn’t reach out to shake.

“Not long enough.”

“You still holding a grudge, Freddie?”

“You took me through four states locked in your fucking trunk, yeah, man, I’m still holding a fucking grudge.”

“Murder is a serious charge to jump bail on.”

“Justifiable.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before, Peaches worked miracles to get that charge dropped.”

“Why the fuck are you here?” Horace asked.

He wasn’t trained, but even he noticed the tightening of Horace’s hand around the butt of the gun.

“My boy is in danger and where better to hide out than in your camp.”

“Doesn’t look like your pretty, city boy has ever squatted in the woods to shit before. You going to need to hold his hand out in the big bad woods?”

“Horace, quit being jealous my ugly mug got him first.”

He shifted nervously as Horace and Freddie looked him up and down with a little too much interest. He stepped closer to Livingston.

“No accounting for fucking taste.”

He jumped as back pounding hugs commenced and three booming laughs echoed through the forest. Who were these people? He’d assumed the Trenton team were as crazy as he’d ever come across.

“How the fuck y’all been?”

“Getting fucking old, man, gets harder every year. Feel eighty on some cold mornings.”

“Shit, you two are the same age as me. Move back to town and live among the civilized people.”

“That shit ain’t for us. We do just fine out here. We’re almost done with that cabin we’ve been building.”

“You two been working on that for what, two years now?”

“Not much else to do out here and I heard kidnapping a man from town was illegal.”

“When has a little something like laws stopped y’all from doing whatever the fuck y’all want to do?”

Horace shrugged his bulky mile-wide shoulders. “I can’t deny that, but I kinda like consent.”

“Come on, let’s get to camp before it gets dark.” Freddie turned as he talked and headed off into the trees.

“They’re crazy, but they’re perfectly safe,” Livingston whispered as he bent to pick the bags back up.

He stepped in front of Livingston and followed behind the two men.

“How’s the team?”

“Linus is married to a local deputy and a bartender, got kids now.”

“Shit, Linus went domestic on us? Fuck, never thought that day would happen, but the two-husband thing I can see though. I bet Lily is loving the grandkids thing.”

He kept his eyes on the ground, stepping over exposed roots and fallen limbs. Except for the other men’s voices, all he could hear was the sounds of nature. Songs of birds and animals scurrying around in the shadows of the trees.

“Yeah. You know Lily.”

“She was up here dropping off supplies several months ago, but never mentioned it. She was trying to get us to leave. What about the rest?”

“Pure is Pure, Little’s barely keeping himself alive, and you know Gage.”

“Still got that hard-on for that boy he’s not supposed to?”

“I think he’s given up on that one, maybe, who the fuck knows. I ain’t seen Gage go on a date in years now.”

He zoned out and walked along as the day was slowly dying. He was sore, he smiled to himself, he’d never complain about Livingston taking him however and whenever he wanted. The upward tilt of his mouth fell at the only painful part. Livingston was going to let him go, and he’d be strong when the time came. The memories would carry him through the lonely times ahead of him. He’d rather belong to Livingston temporarily than not at all.

The forest broke, and they walked into a clearing with three tents that surrounded a fire pit in front of a simple log cabin.

“Still got plans for that cabin?”

“Stupid dreams, that’s all it is.”

“Freddie might be playing it off, but that place is for when they start courting to trick some men into coming up here.”

“We’ve been hiding up here a long time, Liv, I think the time of finding men for ourselves has passed.” Freddie didn’t glance back as he spoke.

Horace and Freddie leaned their rifles against the side of the porch. He frowned as the two men looked at each other. There was something there, a shared sadness that they felt so oppressively their shoulders slumped.

“Did you warn your boy about roughing it?” Horace asked with a deceptively friendly smile.

Livingston led him to a tent, pulled the flap aside and stowed their bags inside. The man took his hand and helped him sit on a low camp chair around the fire. All three men took the other chairs.

“No, but he’ll be fine. Everyone should go camping at least once.”

Over the night he listened to stories some that were funny and more than frightened him about being stuck with Horace and Freddie. He slowly relaxed as he studied the two men and recognized a lot of Livingston’s quirks in them. One of them or both would look off into space and seem lost for a few minutes before they pulled themselves back from their thoughts. Their loneliness was palatable.

“Your boy is beautiful, Liv,” Freddie quietly muttered, but didn’t look at him. “You’re a lucky man.”

Freddie sounded envious and sad, he glanced at Livingston and back to Freddie to find both of Livingston’s friends watching him.

“Yes, he is. Y’all will find yours.”

“Naw, man, we do just fine with jerking off. Best not get used to men who will run from us, ya know?”

“Freddie and me been alone so long we don’t even know what to say to get ourselves a pretty boy.”

He jumped as Livingston’s hand stroked from his knee to his groin, he jerked his gaze to Livingston’s. The man watched him with hunger in his gaze. He shot a glance out of the corner of his eye to catch Horace and Freddie staring before they brought their attention to the fire.

“It’s not so much what you say.”

“Bullshit, it’s all about being smooth and a good looking bastard.” Horace’s voice was harsh and filled with bitterness.

“If good looking was a factor, you think I’d have Fielding? It’s about touching—how you make them feel.”

“How do you touch him?”

The longing clear in Freddie’s words and his chest tightened with empathy. Wasn’t that all he wanted? A chance for love and touch—to belong.

“Like he’s mine.”

Livingston’s gaze held his, and he was helpless, he couldn’t look away. The big man took his hand and tugged until he stood, he eased down onto Livingston’s lap. Livingston’s thick cock was under his sore ass, but he involuntarily clenched as he thought about taking Livingston again. It was never enough.

“It isn’t just about fucking. Your focus needs to be on them and their pleasure. Their trust and consent your greatest treasure, but you have to earn it. You let them know you care and you want nothing but to take care of them.”

Livingston’s lips nipped at his earlobe as the big man’s hands slipped under his jacket and t-shirt. He couldn’t help it when he arched into Livingston’s rough hands on his stomach.

“We don’t know anything about being gentle. We’re going to bed. We get up pretty early around here.” Horace shared a look with Freddie.

Freddie and Horace stood so quickly that he pushed back to Livingston’s chest. They roughly tore the flaps back on their tents and disappeared inside.

“Are they—”

“Undo your fucking pants.” The dangerous edge of Livingston’s voice had him moving before he could think about it. He was uneasy about the sound of Livingston’s tone. He shyly pushed his pants down just enough to expose his ass and kept glancing at the tents.

“You’re safe. Daddy will always make sure of that.”

He trusted Livingston above anyone else. The broken men who’d disappeared into the tents appeared so miserable. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to give them something. Voyeurism was innocent enough. No one else’s hands would touch him but his Daddy’s.

Livingston worked his own pants undone. He lifted his hips, and the wide head of Livingston’s cock was at his hole. He bit off a scream as he was impaled. The burn made him lightheaded. Livingston’s dick was slick, but he hadn’t even noticed any lube. His ass was on fire. Livingston’s teeth bit into his shoulder. His cock rested on his exposed stomach as he rode Livingston.

“Daddy’s bad boy likes that people are watching him ride his Daddy’s cock. They can look all they want, but who do you belong to?”

“You, Daddy, only you.”

“Don’t be quiet, let them hear how my dirty boy loves his Daddy’s dick.”

He opened his thighs as far as his jeans would allow, placed his hands on the arms of the chair and bounced on Livingston’s cock.

“Daddy,” he screamed as Livingston’s hand wrapped around his length and squeezed.

He frantically pushed his jeans down his legs so he could open his thighs wider. Livingston grunted under him, but those weren’t the only masculine sounds of pleasure he heard. He forced his eyes open and turned to the tents, the flaps were open, and the two men stared at him, barely illuminated by the fire. He could almost pretend they weren’t there at all. Their shirts were gone to expose hairy chest and bellies.

Embarrassment stole through him at what he was doing.

“Let them have something, boy, show them they can have a boy of their own, but you only belong to me.”

He couldn’t look away from them, looking at one then the other as they stared at him. They worked their dicks in a brutal rhythm, they almost seemed in sync, and he matched his ride to the pace of their strokes. He groaned and whimpered, loud even to himself. He didn’t know how he felt about being jerk-off material, but the silent misery that surrounded the two lonely men made him push it aside.

“Fuck, boy, I’m gonna cum,” Livingston growled against his ear.

He batted Livingston’s hand away from his cock and stroked himself closer and closer. Every muscle in his body seized up as a painful grip slammed him down on Livingston’s cock. The heat of Livingston’s cum filled his ass, and he screamed as he released onto his thighs. He collapsed bonelessly onto his Daddy’s chest, clenching around Livingston as the big man kissed his neck, cheek, and temple. Soothing him with gentle strokes of Livingston’s calloused hands.

He couldn’t keep the words back, and he didn’t even try to stop himself, “Daddy, I love you.”

Livingston’s strong arms tightened around him to the point he could barely pull oxygen into his lungs. The big man shuddered under him as Livingston buried his face against his throat. He felt the big man’s lips move and fantasized that Livingston had said the words too. He lifted his head to find the tent flaps closed and everything quiet except for the nighttime wilderness sounds and the crackling of the fire.