the baby deer and it wasn’t hurt at all. He took a deep breath and sighed, hoping the little
deer hadn’t been harmed. But when he turned to see if there was any damage to the Jeep,
he pointed and shouted, “Look.”
Lance turned fast; the wind blew his hair forward. His eyes bugged and his jaw
fell. He saw that Rush had hit the baby deer, and somehow it had become wedged
between the headlights, in the front grille. The deer was on its side, with its legs dangling
forward. Its back was stuck in the broken grill and it couldn’t move one way or the other.
There wasn’t any blood, but there was a bruise on one of its hind legs. “I can’t believe
what I’m seeing,” Lance said.
Rush sighed and shook his head. “I can’t either. But I also know my mother had
that grill temporarily fixed and it wasn’t very sturdy. She’d hit something a few years ago
and smashed the grill. She told them to fix it as cheaply as possible.” Then he raised an
eyebrow and said, “I was mad at her for not spending the money to replace the grill. But
now I have a feeling that this broken old grill probably just saved this little fawn’s life.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, thankful he hadn’t been going too fast. When Rush stepped toward the car, the fawn lifted its head and wiggled its ears.
Rush didn’t know much about deer, but this fawn looked as if it were a newborn. It
wasn’t much bigger than a large puppy. The poor thing tried to move its legs back and
forth; it tried to free itself from the grill. But nothing happened. As Rush moved forward,
the deer stopped moving, panicked, and stared at Rush with large brown eyes. “Don’t
worry, baby,” Rush said. “You’re okay. Nothing is going to happen to you. We’ll get you
out of this.”
Rush looked at Lance and shook his head. “I’ve seen deer cross this road all my
life. I know people who have hit them and I’ve had many close calls myself. But I’ve
never seen anything like this. The poor thing is trapped.”
When Lance stepped forward, the deer wiggled its legs again. “But it looks like
it’s in good shape. What should we do?” Lance was from the city. This was a novelty to
him.
Rush had known Lance long enough by now to know all of his facial expressions.
He knew when Lance was anxious by the way the right side of his lips twitched. He knew
when he was unhappy by the way he furrowed his eyebrows. He thought he’d seen all of
Lance’s expressions. But he hadn’t. Lance’s lips were pressed together, his eyes were
bulging, and a thick vein in his forehead popped out. Rush had never noticed the vein.
Rush shrugged his shoulders and said, “I think we should secure it to the grill with
bungee cords and drive to the animal hospital. There’s one that’s open twenty-four hours
in the next town. I went there once with my aunt’s cat in the middle of the night.”
“Will it be okay, stuck there like that?” Rush asked. “It must be awful.” His body
jerked and he made a face. “I think he’ll be okay,” Rush said. “The animal hospital isn’t far. Besides, we
can’t try to free it right now. It’s in a state of panic. It would just run into the woods and I
think a vet should look at the bruise on its leg. It looks like it’s lost its mother.” He
crossed to the back of the Jeep and said, “I’ll get the bungee cords.”
Securing the deer to the grill wasn’t simple, especially not with the wind howling
around them. Each time the wind blew and a branch cracked, the poor fawn jumped.
They didn’t want to frighten the poor thing to death and they didn’t want to harm it in
case there were internal injuries. Rush held the baby deer’s legs gently, whispering calm,
soothing affirmations . Lance hooked the bungee cords to the grill, trying not to move the
fawn or touch its bruised leg.
When the cords were secure, they got back into the car and drove very slowly to
the twenty-four-hour animal hospital. The ten-minute drive took more than a half hour.
Rush leaned forward, hunched over the steering wheel, and drove with his forearms. With
each bump and crack in the road, he squeezed the steering wheel and looked over the
hood to make sure the deer hadn’t fallen out of the grill. Neither he nor Lance spoke.
Lance just stared at the hood and gripped the door handle.
At the hospital, the vet and his assistant tranquilized the fawn so they could
remove it safely from the car. When the fawn was relaxed enough to be removed, Rush
had to bend the grill back with heavy pliers so the deer wouldn’t suffer any injuries. From
what he could see, the only injury was on its rear leg.
Before the vet did anything else, he asked, “Do you mind if I take a picture of this
with my cell phone? No one is going to believe it.”
Lance and Rush shrugged. “It’s fine with us,” Rush said. After they took the photo and removed the fawn carefully from the car, the vet
and the assistant carried the deer into the animal hospital. While they were walking inside,
Rush noticed something unusual about the deer. There were large white patches on its
back and a few on its stomach. He pressed his palm to his chest and asked the vet,
“What’s wrong with him? Why are there white patches? Did I hurt him?”
The vet looked down at the fawn and said, “Well, I’ll be damned. He’s not only
unusual for getting stuck in a grill, but he’s also a calico deer. I’ve never actually seen
one, but I’ve read about them. They’re very rare.”
They carried the fawn to the back of the hospital and Rush and Lance went into
the waiting room. Lance sat down on a plastic orange chair and leaned forward with his
elbows on his knees. Rush remained standing, pacing back and forth in the waiting room,
silently praying that the innocent young fawn would be okay. He stared down at the floor,
with his fists clenched in his pockets. He’d never injured or killed anything in his life.
He’d never even run over a squirrel.
An hour later, the vet finally stepped into the waiting room. He was a portly man
in his early fifties with salt-and-pepper hair, dark circles beneath his eyes, and a thick,
dark brown mustache. Rush jogged toward him and asked, “How’s he, or she, doing?”
The vet smiled and said, “Everything is fine. It’s a he. There’s bruise on his rear
leg, but nothing seems to be broken. I didn’t see any other bruises. He was a lucky little
guy tonight. And for the life of me I can’t understand how he wound up in the grill. I’ve
never seen anything like it before, and I thought I’d seen it all around here with deer. I
once saw a deer trapped in a sun roof. But I’ve never seen a fawn trapped in a grill.” Rush shrugged and took a deep breath. “I’m just glad he’s alive and that he’s
going to be okay.” He knew the vet was trying to be polite, but he didn’t feel like talking
anymore.
Lance crossed toward them. He squared his broad shoulders and asked, “What
happens to him now?” His voice was deep and professional; he was taking control again.
“I reported the accident to the police,” the vet said. “And he’ll probably be
transported to a zoo or a shelter until his wound has healed. If we let him go free now,
he’d never survive on his own with that damaged leg.”
Rush shook the vet’s hand and thanked him a dozen times. When he asked the vet
what the cost was, the vet refused to take any money. He just smiled and said, “I’m just
glad you had the decency to bring him here instead of just letting him go. Not many
people would have done that.”
Before they left the animal hospital, the vet assured Rush he’d keep him posted
about the fawn’s condition and where he’d be sent to recover. On the way to the car,
Lance insisted on driving. It was well past midnight and Rush hadn’t napped as long as
Lance had napped. Lance said he been watching Rush. He’d seen him yawn a few times
and he said he wasn’t tired at all. Lance was used to keeping late hours and he only
needed about four or five hours of sleep each night, so Rush didn’t argue. He handed him
the keys to the Jeep and thanked him.
By the time they reached the house, only twenty minutes away, Rush was sound
asleep in the passenger seat. The seat wasn’t even reclined. His body leaned against the
door and his head against the window. He knew the car had stopped moving. He felt
Lance remove the seatbelt and he heard him get out of the car. But Rush didn’t want to move. His arms were heavy and his legs were sore from pacing for so long. He could
have slept in the car all night.
Lance walked around and opened the passenger door gently, holding Rush’s
shoulder so Rush wouldn’t fall out of the car. When the door was open, Lance put one
arm around Rush’s shoulders and the other under Rush’s legs. With one quick heave, he
lifted Rush up from the seat, carried him out of the car, and kicked the door shut with his
foot.
Rush’s body jerked and he put his arms around Lance’s shoulders. “You don’t
have to carry me,” Rush said. “I’m too heavy.” He didn’t want Lance to hurt himself.
Lance continued walking. He smiled and said, “You’re as light as a feather.”
But by the time they reached the front door, Lance’s face was red and his hands
were slipping. Rush kissed him on the cheek and said, “Put me down now. I don’t want
you to hurt yourself. I have plans for you tonight.” Then he licked his neck and said,
“Give me a couple of minutes upstairs alone.”
When Lance put him down, Rush went into the house and jogged up the stairs to
his bedroom. He removed his clothes, pulled the bed covers down, and climbed up on the
bed naked. He went down in the middle of the bed face first and shoved a pillow under
his stomach. When he heard Lance coming up the steps, he parted his legs and closed his
eyes. Though he was pretending to do this for Lance’s sake, this was Rush’s favorite
position in bed. Being in love with Lance made it even better.
Lance entered the room and looked at Rush lying naked across the bed. He didn’t
say a word. Rush heard his breathing increase. He heard his shoes hit the floor, his belt
buckle jingle, and his zipper go down. He even heard him rip open the condom wrapper. Rush looked back, opened one eye so Lance wouldn’t see him looking, and watched him
cover his magnificent dick. He had to yank the condom back and pull it into position; it
was so tight he couldn’t pull it all the way back. Two thick inches of the shaft remained
uncovered.
When it was covered, Lance crossed to the bed and climbed on top of Rush’s back.
He fumbled for a few seconds, looking for Rush’s opening, and said, “I was hoping this
is what I’d find when I came up here.” Then he entered Rush’s body, with force, and
grunted a few times.
Rush knew Lance’s face had turned red; he suspected he was biting his bottom lip.
So he threw his arms forward and moaned softly, and spread his legs wider to welcome
him. Lance went into his body fast—just a quick insertion and a hard plunge. The impact
made Rush wince for a second. Accommodating a man like Lance Sharp took practice.
But when Lance was on top of him this way, in spite of the pain, he truly felt as if they
were both one complete being. Lance’s body was rougher and sturdier than Rush’s; he
looked like a classic DILF in a porn film. Lance had a thin layer of dark hair on his chest
and stomach. Yet the contrast between rough and smooth created a feeling of surprise
that made Rush’s heart thump inside his chest. He felt it each time Lance took complete
control of his body. And the deeper Lance went, the more he felt it.
When Lance started bucking his hips, Rush took a deep, ragged breath and closed
his eyes. Lance didn’t wear strong aftershave or cologne, but he did have a distinct
masculine aroma of his own. It reminded Rush of worn leather in an expensive car,
sprinkled with the unusual combination of nutmeg and black peppercorns. Rush had
always been sensitive to the smell of a man. There had been times with Harold, after Harold had been working out at the gym, when the sour smells hadn’t pleased him. He
always made Harold shower before they had sex. But this never happened with Lance.
His smell wasn’t spicy or sweet, and it wasn’t too strong or overpowering. Sometimes
Rush had to inhale deeply just to get a whiff of him. But when he did, a feeling of
absolute protection enveloped his entire being. In Lance’s arms, nothing bad could ever
happen to him again.
Lance bucked harder, and he banged into Rush with loud slaps. The headboard on
Rush’s childhood bed rocked and the mattress bounced. As a teenager masturbating in
that same bed, he’d never dreamed the love of his life would actually make love to him
