Only three days had passed, and he had enough firewood split to last the next few years. With just him, he didn't bother with a fire, but the boy always seemed cold. Fielding wouldn’t survive a real winter, and if the kid didn't stop watching him, Fielding wouldn't make the next four months.

It wasn't like the boy complained. Fielding didn't seem to miss the comforts of TV or his phone. Fielding read most of the time. Picked up the cabin even though neither of them made a mess. The boy put himself in charge of meals. That was one thing he wasn’t going to fight. Cooking wasn't one of his things.

His phone rang, and he removed it from his back pocket. He answered without checking.

“Livingston.”

“Liv, gotta a favor, man.”

Favor. Favors for his teammate, Little, were never good. He liked the guy, considered him a friend, but the man just wasn’t right. He had some quirks that would make a saint pull out their fucking hair.

“Ya know I'm stuck on babysitting duty.”

“Ain't no thing, Liv, I gotta pass my firearm cert per boss man's orders. Ya know I don't carry unless I don't have a choice. But Linus takes this shit too serious.”

“It is serious, Little. You know you don't pass the course, he grounds your ass.”

“Yeah, Yeah, hand to hand combat I'm the best. My aim just ain't worth shit.”

“Wear your fucking glasses, man.”

“I don't wanna,” Little whined.

He couldn't help grinning. Little was a big ass troublemaker. Didn't take much serious in life but Little loved his job. Linus had threatened to fire Little a few years back, and Little had a panic attack so bad he thought the man was going to have a heart attack.

“I got your back, man, we'll hit the range before I head back to the mountain.”

“Thanks, Liv. So how's the kid?”

“Annoying.”

“Can't be that fucking bad. You weren't stuck in a van with Raul and Pure for two days.”

“ER visit?”

“Fuck, man, it was close. Pure went in pursuit of our runner. Raul was not having that shit. I swear they should just fuck and get it over with.”

“We know Raul ain't claiming his boy anytime soon. If I was Raul, I'd have that boy tied to my bed and punishing him for his recklessness.”

“Good thing you ain’t Raul. Can you imagine Pure submitting to a spanking? I'd pay to see that shit.”

“Don't even think about Pure's virgin ass, Raul will kill you for it.”

“Ain't that the truth.”

“Raul will get his boy without any help from us. He's gonna have his pretty little sub on his knees when the time is right.” He turned back to the house to get a cup of coffee and saw Fielding standing there with crimson stained cheeks and a mug held in a shaking hand.

Well, that's what the brat got for eavesdropping on a private conversation.

“Man, I gotta go, I'll give a call when I'm headed in.”

“Good deal, Liv.”

He disconnected the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “That for me?”

“Yes, sir, I didn't mean—” Fielding swallowed hard. “I wasn't listening.”

The boy closed the distance between them quickly and thrust the mug at him. He caught it before it made a trip to the ground.

“Black. I noticed you didn't, um, put anything in your coffee. Is it strong enough?”

He hesitated with the mug at his lips. He swore the boy was holding his breath waiting for his approval. Taking a sip, it was perfect, but he took his time to see how long Fielding would keep himself from breathing. Nothing much amused him anymore, but that was doing it for him.

During the time the boy was in his home he'd picked up on little things about him. Fielding's need for approval. The boy's natural submissiveness. Fielding was also downright domestic.

“Not bad.”

“I'll do better. Are you going somewhere?”

“No, not for a few more days. We’ll head to the office for a check-in, and see what Linus’ boy, Hunter, found out about your stalker.” Interesting, the stalker comment hadn’t earned a flinch, but the moment he said boy, the kid’s perfectly arched brows rose. “Make a list of anything you need. We’ll hit the store before we come back.”

“Can I get candy and chips?”

The question took him by surprise. Fielding didn’t look like anything fattening ever passed his pretty lips.

“Do you want candy and chips?”

“So much.”

He hid his smile behind his mug at the boy’s longing sigh. He’d noticed the boy didn’t eat very much, not enough in his opinion, but Fielding wasn’t big. Tiny compared to him, probably not for normal sized men.

“We’ll see then.”

“Yes, sir.”

One more submissive little yes, sir with averted eyes and the boy was going to find himself on his knees worshiping his cock. He was too old for the boy, but his dick didn’t seem to have a problem with it. What made it harder to resist Fielding was a natural submissive born to be someone's boy. He was inclined to dominate and to have the perfect boy in front of him was more temptation than he'd ever experienced.

He needed to get Fielding as far away from him as possible and soon.

The last few days were a level of hell that even eclipsed his worst nightmare, and he was going to make sure it ended. He stowed the boy in the conference room and headed straight for Linus' office. He pushed open the door without knocking not giving a shit what he found on the other side. He slammed the door and strode to his boss’ desk.

“He's gotta go.”

Linus didn't even flinch simply relaxed back in his chair and stared at him.

“Give him to Pure.”

“And why should I do that, Livingston?”

“None of your fucking business, I want him out of my house.”

A slow infuriating smirk spread the corners of Linus' mouth, and for the first time in their friendship, he wanted to knock the fucker’s teeth out.

The kid's presence was everywhere in his place from Fielding’s sweet scent in his bed to meals kept warm in the oven to the boy using his favorite leather jacket as a blanket as he read. It was getting downright domestic at his place. Shit was going to start giving him fucking hives with all the normalcy going on, and he raised his hand to massage the tic under his right eye.

“Want the pretty thing on your dick?”

“Fuck you, man, give him to someone else. I don't care who.”

He knew it was a lie, and from the arrogant smirk, Linus picked up on it too. He ground his back teeth together waiting for Linus to call him out on it.

“You know that ain't true, Liv. I send him home with someone else, and you know what's going to happen?”

He didn't want to hear it.

“That's right. You'll ride right over to get your boy.”

“You knew this would happen,” he hollered.

The man didn't even have to answer. It was right there in his smug expression and the amusement in his blue-green eyes.

He fell into one of the guest chairs in front of Linus' desk and scrubbed his hands over his face. He grew more pissed when his fingers and palm caught on the uneven skin. His wasn't a face or body for permanence. He couldn't even remember the last time he hooked up. He wouldn't admit it aloud, but he wanted someone. Someone who saw the scars yet they wouldn't matter. More than a drunken fuck in a different state or town, where if he were rejected, only strangers would witness it.

“So you still want to send him with Little, Pure, maybe Raul?”

He growled at the mention of Raul being anywhere near Fielding. Raul had tried to fuck Pure out of his system for years, and Raul wasn’t picky—he was an any-hole-would-do kind of guy.

“I hate you.”

“Want to go a few rounds, maybe show off for him?”

“Fuck you,” he rumbled and pushed up from the chair. “Hunter figure anything out?”

“Your boy's stalker is good. His electronic footprint is almost non-existent. He's got a few leads but nothing clear. Probably run into more dead ends. The letters and packages were forwarded through mailing services several times. We're following the tracking info maybe get a geographical profile.”

A large Manila envelope sailed his way, and he caught it.

“Burner phone with all of us programmed in. We set him up with a GPS device to wear at all times. There's a drive with all the emails and photos of the letters and gifts, some he's received in the last week. Get to know the enemy. That fucker isn't going to stop. He thinks he owns Fielding.”

“Not a fucking chance. Have we considered this could be a woman? I read the file. The verbiage was pretty androgynous.”

“It’s a thought I had, but my gut says it’s a man.”

“We won’t know shit until we catch them.” He tapped the envelope against his knee.

“Go help Little before I put his ass at a desk.”

“Still fucking hate you.”

He listened to Linus' deep laugh as it followed him out of the room. He slammed the door and went to collect his boy. Either he'd remain strong and resist, or he'd give in, and his boy wasn't going anywhere today or four months from now.