Deliverance - Hooch and Matt's Story (25 page)

Hooch put his cell down, gently placing it onto the desk. He remained in his chair for a while.

* * *

Several weeks later, Hooch was at an equine rescue facility where he had arranged to inspect a couple of horses that had previously belonged to a bankrupt trail riding business. They were on the elderly side, which was why the company’s liquidators had not managed to sell them with the rest of the horses, but gentle and quiet and calm, and perfect for what he had in mind. 

After discussions with the manager, and making arrangements for the horses to be delivered to the property that he’d bought, Hooch was distracted by the sound of a shrill piercing neigh from the barn, together with the sound of frantic kicking against solid boards. 

“What else have you got in the stables?” Hooch called the manager back. “What’s up with that horse?”

Cyn followed his gaze and shook her head. “It’s Lucifer. He came in six months ago, starved and horribly mistreated, he’d been locked up in a filthy tiny stall almost since he was a foal. We’ve tried all we can, but we simply can’t place him or adopt him anywhere with good conscience. No matter what we try, he can’t be handled by anyone, and he’s too dangerous—we’ve already had any number of near misses.” She gave a sad shrug. “We’ve just managed to get him into the barn to wait for the vet tomorrow.” No need for her to say why. 

“Lucifer?” Hooch’s brows rose. “Who named him that?” He listened to another barrage of high pitched neighs and frantic kicks. “Can I see him?”

“It was ‘Luke’ when he came, but the longer name became quite appropriate soon after,” Cyn’s voice was dry. “You’re welcome to, but mind any appendages. He’s a big boy, and a fast one.”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I used to ride broncos.” Hooch turned back to the stables, following the noise to a single box, where a dark, wild horse was rearing up, hammering against the box door in front and kicking the stable wall in the back. 

Hooch approached slowly, letting the frantic horse see him coming. Pausing when the horse screamed and reared, but not retreating. Stopping at the door, while the horse backed into the corner, trembling, he leaned against, but not over, the door. “Hey,” he said softly to the horse.

The horse’s fear was palpable in the air. Fear fuelling aggression, the hardest kind, but Hooch just stood still. Close. Non-threatening. “Hey, Lucifer.” Hooch kept talking with the same gentle voice. “Stupid name, huh?”

The horse shifted restlessly, but didn’t rear or kick. A large horse, as Cyn had said, rippling with muscle under the glossy dark coat, which was drenched with swear. Ears pricked, listening to Hooch.

“You’d kill me if I tried to come close, wouldn’t you?” Hooch said softly, with a chuckle in his voice. “So I won’t, not now, but I make you a promise: I
will
get close, and I
will
ride you one day.” He stood and watched the horse, taking in everything. “I never break a promise.” With that he walked out slowly, without any sudden movement or noise, and looked for Cyn.

She was outside, waiting for him. “You’re in one piece,” she observed. “Crying shame about Lucifer. He’s such a stunning colt, but we don’t really have any choice, not when he’s so dangerous.”

“I’ll take him.” Hooch stated, and before she managed to get a word in, he raised his hand. “I know what I’m doing. I’ll give Lucifer a home, he doesn’t have to die. I know how to deal with wild and frightened horses. I’ll take him.”

She looked at him steadily, measuringly, before nodding. “The paperwork’s in the office.”

“Thanks.” Hooch was about to turn towards the office, when he stopped. “You’re welcome to check up on the horses any time.”

“You may regret that. I’ll probably be around your place all the time. Your idea sounds fascinating.”

“Not my idea, I copied it from Horses for Heroes.” Hooch smiled. “We need volunteers who know what they’re doing.”

Cyn smiled and scratched the side of her nose. “I’m sure I can find more than a few people to come by and lend a hand.” They had reached the small building that served as an office. “It would not be a good idea to transport Lucifer with Daisy and Minnie, but we might as well organize it all now.”

“I’ll get some guys to help with Lucifer’s transport later.” Hooch agreed, as they went inside to deal with the paperwork, which took some time.

* * *

Later that day, after the first two horses had been safely taken to the new charity stables, and with Lucifer staying for another couple of days before Hooch could organize help with the transport, he finally made his way back home. Somewhat tired, definitely hungry, and surprisingly content.

Matt was in the apartment, working on an assignment for his nutrition course when Hooch arrived home, and raised his head at Hooch’s entrance. “What are you so cheerful about?”

“I got myself a horse today. His name’s Lucifer.” Hooch grinned, unlacing his boots.

“Lucifer.” Matt looked at Hooch steadily, “figures.” He closed the textbook that he was reading from, then saved his work and closed the lid of his laptop, knowing that no more work would be done. “How did that happen? I thought you were going out to look at some retired old-timers to plod around in circles.”

“I was,” Hooch shrugged, “but there was this horse, dark colt, real good stock, but mistreated and frightened. They called him Lucifer, because he’s out for everyone’s blood.” He left jacket and boots at the door, and walked over to where Matt was sitting. “The horse is aggressive because it’s frightened. It was about to be put down. No one could handle him.” He shrugged again, “so I got him.”

Matt stayed still for a moment, before standing up. “You might act like the tough-ass Delta, but you’re just a softie inside, aren’t you?” Just a hint of a smile from him.

“I’m not!” Hooch was adamant, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest for good measure. “It simply made sense. I have experience in riding wild horses, have tamed a few, too, and that horse is going to be an excellent one when it’s realized it has nothing to fear.”

“Ah-hah,” Matt nodded sagely. “Whatever you say.” Clearly disbelieving. “Are you planning on taming and riding him?”

“Of course. Pretty pointless to own a horse otherwise.”

Matt hummed thoughtfully.

“What?”

“You used to be thrown off wild horses, yes?”

“Sure,” Hooch huffed a laugh, “that’s the point of rodeos.”

“That was
before
you fractured your pelvis…”

Hooch’s grin immediately fell. “Ah, shit.”

Matt hated the way Hooch deflated, and quickly offered, “I could research supportive braces for you. Just to make sure.”

“Sure thing, buddy.”

Matt chuckled at the ‘buddy’. “When do I get to meet this demon?”

“We’ll transport him to the stables in a couple of days, once I’ve organized some guys to help. Want to come along?”

Knowing he was being challenged, Matt rose to the bait. “Sure.”

“That’s sorted, then.” Hooch’s grin was back, “you’ll like him.”

Lucifer’s transport turned out to be as much of struggle and hard work as his name suggested. They needed four men and all of Hooch’s and Cyn’s expertise to eventually get the frightened and aggressive horse into the trailer and after a short journey, into his new box in the charity’s stables.

All of them were exhausted, but Hooch had taken the brunt of the work, staying the closest to Lucifer as was possible at this stage, without getting killed.

He leaned against the stable wall, pulled off a glove, and wiped his sweaty face with a satisfied grunt. “Thanks, buddies.”

The others seemed ready to drop, and looked from Hooch to the still nervous horse, as though Hooch was insane. “Time for a drink, then?” one of them asked. 

“Sure, I could do with one.” Hooch focused on Matt who’d been staring at him in a strange way. “What about you?”

“Umm,” Matt was uncharacteristically inarticulate, “yeah, that sounds good.”

Hooch studied Matt for a moment longer, then pulled his other glove off. “Okay, guys, meet you at the bar in twenty. I’ll finish off here.” Everyone except Matt started to move. “Matt, I could use your help.”

“Sure…” Matt was still sounding a little dazed. 

As the others left to drive to the bar, Hooch opened the door to the washroom and beckoned Matt inside. “So,” Hooch started as he closed and then locked the door, “why are you staring at me as if I’d grown horns?”

“You look…” Matt swallowed hard. “That was hot.”

An amused grin began to spread across Hooch’s features. “Does that mean you’re into cowboys? I never knew that about you, Matt Donahue.”

Matt blinked and came back into himself at the teasing. “Makes me wonder why I didn’t know either.” Stepping closer, until he and Hooch were nose to nose.

“So, that means skin tight denims, boots, broad belt and shirt do it for you, huh?” Hooch rumbled.

Matt’s hands went to Hooch’s chest, lying them flat against the sweat-soaked cloth. “I think they do.” Matt’s mouth so close that Hooch felt his breath, more than he heard the words.

“You want to do me, huh?” Hooch murmured, their lips touching as he spoke. “Right here and now. With my denims down enough for you to fuck me, huh?” Pushing forward, until he ground his crotch into Matt’s, hard cock against hard cock.

“God yes.” Matt pushed back, “against the basin, so I can see your face in the mirror.”

“Looks like it’s going to be a dry run.” Hooch didn’t appear perturbed by the lack of lube, just turned round and moved the few steps to the large basin, then gripped the stoneware firmly, and bent forward. Low enough for Matt to fuck him, and high enough for his face to show in the mirror. Dark eyes fixed on Matt through his reflection, urging him on silently.

Matt fumbled with both their belt buckles, tugging on Hooch’s jeans, pulling them down with difficulty, before moving to his own. He pushed Hooch hard against the basin, who didn’t say anything, but his breathing had become harsh and fast, bracing himself.

“Shit, no lube,” Matt swore, panted, then spat into his hand. Not enough, but better than nothing, and Hooch relished the burn of a dry fuck. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Hooch willed his muscles to relax, to ease the breach. “Come on!” Urging Matt, who obeyed, forcing his way in as Hooch shoved back against him, panting and plastering himself against Hooch’s sweat-soaked back. 

“So…good…” Matt groaned, going deeper, fingers clawing at Hooch’s hips, pushing harder against the basin. 

“Yeah, shit,” Hooch gasped out, recklessly pushing back against Matt, while his own cock chafed against the stoneware basin with every thrust. “Fuck me!”

Hard and fast against the basin, reaching around to roughly take Hooch in hand, it seemed barely seconds before they came, and Matt crashed even more heavily into Hooch, crushing him against stone, forehead against the mirror, arms and hands shaking where they gripped the basin. 

Hooch chuckled breathlessly, a rumble against Matt’s chest. “If I’d known you react like that to my old riding kit, I’d gotten a horse earlier.” Blindly reaching behind himself, he patted Matt’s hip.

Matt panted, still catching his breath. “If I’d known, I’d have got you a horse myself.” He slowly withdrew, pulling up both their jeans, but not cleaning either of them.

Hooch turned round and fastened his belt buckle himself. “I’m going to leak,” he smirked, “sweat, cum, leather and beer.” Hooch reached behind himself and pulled a Stetson off a peg. Battered, faded and worn, he tipped the hat down low over his face and grinned. “Doesn’t get better than that.”

January 2005, Fayetteville

Right after Christmas and New Year, Hooch had been spending every free minute at the stables, working hard on getting the charity into full swing. He was rarely home, and when he returned at night, he was so physically exhausted, he fell asleep almost immediately.

He didn’t notice that Matt spent more time downstairs with Greg, his time eaten up by the charity, and most of all by Lucifer, who he was training every day, if possible.

He didn’t notice anything until he came home one night to find the apartment dark and deserted, no Matt there. A noise from the parking lot caught his attention—Matt, being dropped off by Greg after a night out. 

Despite himself, Hooch looked out of the window, watching the two men in the deserted parking lot, illuminated by yellow street lights. They were laughing, and Greg pulled Matt back inside for what was obviously a kiss.

Hooch froze. The coke can in his hand crushed by suddenly tensing fingers.

Matt got out of the car, still laughing, and walked to the gym door, a spring in his step. Greg was waiting until Matt was inside, before driving off in his stylish little car.  

Matt’s steps were still light as he made his way up the stairs to the apartment and opened the door. “Hey,” he sounded surprised, “you’re home early.”  

Hooch was still standing at the window. “Hey.” He turned round to face Matt. “You were out with Greg.” A statement.

“Yeah,” Matt dropped his keys in the habitual place, and Hooch saw that he was carrying a camera case, top quality, that he’d never seen before. “Photography masterclass.”

“Are you in love with him?” The question came out as if shot from the hip: straight to the point.

Matt blinked, recoiled as though slapped. “No,” he said too quickly, “just friends. You’ve never objected before.”

“I’ve never before seen you together with any of your guys.”

Matt thought for a moment. “You haven’t? Ah, no, it’s lunch usually, so you wouldn’t.”

Hooch hadn’t left his position at the window, crushed can still in his hand. “Matt, I’m not objecting to you fucking other guys.” He chose his words carefully, but each of them was as straightforward as the next. “Never have, never will, but what I saw didn’t look like a fuck buddy. He’s the same guy who a few years ago complained he’d never been up here, isn’t he?”

“Greg? Yes, he was.” A pause as though Matt was thinking. “Yes, he was.” he repeated.

Hooch nodded. “Photography masterclass?” latching onto the other unknown.

“Well, yes,” Matt was too used to the way Hooch’s mind worked to be surprised at the quick shift, “been getting into it more lately, time I learnt how to use a camera properly.”

Hooch’s fingers relaxed their grip on the crushed can fractionally. “I asked you back then and I ask you now: is there anything you want me to do, or you want to do to me, which we haven’t done yet? Which you think you can’t get from me and need to get from others? Or are they things I can never give you, like being out openly?”

“Is that what this is all about?” Matt sat down heavily on the couch. “Course it sucks, having to stay in the closet, but…”

“No.” Hooch finally moved from his frozen stance. He put the crushed can onto the table and sat down side-on to Matt on the L-shaped couch. “It’s about me seeing you out there laughing with a guy with whom you’ve been out to a new hobby I didn’t know anything about, who took you home, and with whom you’ve been having sex with for years.
This is simply about me being…
” Hooch hesitated, then used the most fitting word, no matter how that made him look, “worried you’ve fallen in love with someone else.”

“Shit,” Matt said, after a breath. “He’s a good guy, sure, and we have fun, and he’
s a friend…but…
no.”

“Are you sure he knows that?”

“Course he does,” the reply was a bit too quick.

“And what about the others?”

“The others?” Matt leaned back. “What’s got into you?” he thought for a second, “but for what it’s worth, there isn’t anyone else at the moment, not since Tom took that new job in Turkey and Craig and Paul got together and moved to San Fran.”

Hooch nodded slowly and thoughtfully. “I guess Greg knows that he’s the only one.”

Matt shrugged. “I suppose so.”

“And he knows I’ve been hardly ever home lately.”

“Not that he has any idea we’re not roommates.” Matt, as always, conscious of Hooch’s safety, but now it was entirely the wrong thing to say.

Hooch froze, sitting straight as if he’d swallowed a rod. “Yeah, shit.” Anything else he wanted to say got caught in his suddenly too-tight throat. He sat in silence until he swallowed hard, forcing the words through. “This isn’t going to work.”

“What isn’t?”

“I could reassure you that I don’t mind. That it’s okay, no problem, I don’t care who you fuck. They are your nibbles, nothing else. But it’s not true, because I sa
w you together and it fucking…
” Hooch stopped, taking a forced breath. “Anyway. I have no right to be jealous.” The admittance that he was jealous, as unexpected as his return to Matt’s apartment, so many years ago.

“You go to your club.” Somehow Matt made it sound reasonable, rather than petulant.

“Yes, I do. That’s why I have no right to…anything.” Hooch could have pointed out that he had no idea who the men were who did things to him and his body, that he’d never seen anyone, didn’t speak to anyone, didn’t care about anyone, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

“Do you want me to stop? The fucking or the friendship?”

Hooch shook his head. “I don’t know. On their own they are fine, but together they are more.”

Matt sighed, and got up to go to the kitchen for a glass of water. Silently offering the same to Hooch, who shook his head again. “Then what? It clearly pisses you off, no matter how much you try to hide it, and these last few months…”

“I’ve been away too much.” Hooch finished the sentence for Matt. “Is that it?”

“Oh, please,” Matt came back to the sitting area, “don’t make me sound like I’m pining. The charity’s important, and you’re doing a great job with it. Just that I would have liked to know you still lived here, instead of being this shape in the bed that appears when I’m asleep and is gone by the time I get up.” He turned the glass in his hand, staring at it, before looking up at Hooch.

“Then what do you want me to do?” Hooch was floundering. After all this time he still found it difficult to get to grips with everything a relationship entailed. “Give me some help, here.”

“Want?” Matt slumped back. “What I want is to be able to go out with you in this town without having to watch every move we make; to not have to be careful about every word I say when I’m talking about you so it doesn’t look suspicious. But we can’t do that, I know. This,” he made a vague movement vaguely taking in the whole apartment, “is the only place we can be together. And let’s face it, I rather miss the sex lately.”

“Yeah.” Hooch’s voice was low. “Is it just sex we have when we spend time together?”

Matt’s smile was small. “It’s never been just sex for us, has it, at least not since you turned up on my doorstep after we left the Gulf.” A statement, not question.

“No, it’s not. If it were I wouldn’t feel…” searching for words again, Hooch had never felt like this before, and he didn’t know how to describe that hurt at seeing Matt with Greg. “Anyway, it’s not.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But with your job here, mine on base, the charity I’m trying to set up, and your new hobby, how are we going to do that relationship stuff?”

Matt bit back a laugh. “Probably the same way that we’ve always done the ‘relationship stuff’. For two people who live together we do less than we did when we weren’t. And,” he shrugged, “if you need a hand, I can come out to the stables. And…aren’t you curious as to what I take photos of?”

“I guess if you come out to the stables to help, we could combine that with the sex thing.” At long last Hooch relaxed. “So what are you taking photos of? Greg?”

Matt almost smiled himself, remembering the time in the washroom at the stables. “Not just,” Matt answered the question, and reached for his camera. “Others, too.” He turned it on, set it to view the photos and passed it to Hooch, who started to flick through the images.

Hooch didn’t say anything for a while, took his time, looking at each and every of the shots: all of them of nude male bodies, and all of them amazing images, capturing the beauty of skin and muscles perfectly. He handed the camera back when he was finished. “Wow.” That was all, and it came out stunned and clearly in awe.

“Thanks,” Matt ducked his head. “Don’t suppose you’d want to pose?”

“Would you like me to?”

A single word. “Yes.”

“Then I will. Guess we could combine the photography with the sex stuff.”

Matt laughed, “that’s part of the fun.”

“Want to get started now?” Without waiting for an answer, Hooch swiftly pulled his shirt up and over his head.

Matt fumbled with the camera, fingers suddenly clumsy. “Why not?”

Hooch bent over to pull off his socks, then opened belt buckle and buttons, and pulled the whole lot down by lifting his ass off the seat. His briefs followed the next moment, before he poured himself onto the couch. Leaning back, legs splayed open, a hand touching his cock that slowly began to show interest at the new scenario. “I guess you’re not planning on showing my face.”

“No,” Matt shook his head, “nobody’s. Just to be safe.”

“In that case…do you want me hard? Want me to spread my ass? Want to fuck me and take shots of your cock inside me?” Hooch’s slow grin spread, and suddenly Matt realized something about Hooch he’d never been fully aware of: the man was an exhibitionist at heart.

Matt had to stop his hands from shaking, or else he’d drop the very expensive camera. He swallowed, then tried to answer the grin. “All of the above.”

“Then let’s get started.” Hooch pulled up one knee, opening wide, and began to stroke his cock to full hardness. If this was going to be how they spent relationship-time together, indulging Matt’s new hobby, then he was damned if he didn’t throw himself into it with all he had.

* * *

The following week, when he was due to meet Greg for lunch, Matt was ready for a difficult conversation. One where he had to be careful what he said, enough truth, and enough left unsaid, that Matt could not give Greg what he wanted, no matter Greg’s protestations to the contrary.

Greg listened, his usual smile fading, angry at first, but reluctantly accepting in the end. Friends, still, but the sex was over. When Greg accused Matt of having a hopeless crush on his roommate, Matt did not deny it, and left Greg to his conclusion, knowing that it was the safest assumption for Greg to make.

It would keep Hooch protected, and their relation
ship as secret as it could be.