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Seeing all those muscles move beneath his skin… the way he moved and ducked Gidget’s swings as they demonstrated what they wanted me to do. It had been hot as fuck, especially when sweat had rolled down his back and chest and all over those tattoos. My tongue had literally tingled with the urge to lick that sweat off his glistening skin.
My balls drew up tight, and I fisted the tip of my cock in preparation?—
The bathroom door swung open.
Tango and I stared at each other. Shock passed over his features as he ran his eyes over me. Mortification and embarrassment colored my cheeks. My chest tightened, anxiety and fear sweeping through me so fast, it made me dizzy. My throat closed up, words unable to escape. My heart slammed against my breastbone with every painful beat, threatening to crack through the bone and rip through my flesh.
“Fuck—shit—I’m sorry,” Tango blurted before he stepped back out, slamming the door behind him. Some logical part of my brain was telling me that slamming the door was unintentional, but I flinched all the same, tears filling my eyes as I choked on my next breath.
I’d just fucked up everything. Everything. Was he going to send me away now? Decide we needed to sleep in separate rooms because he didn’t want to share a room with someone who was just going to jack off in the middle of the day in a bathroom he may need to use?
I quickly yanked my sweats back up and shoved open the door to the closet, which was attached to the bathroom. I slammed it shut behind me, trying not to spew my breakfast everywhere. With shaky hands, I managed to flip the closet lock, and then I spun around, rushing to the other door to lock it as well so no one could get to me. I didn’t even want Tango at that moment, too terrified to see the disgust that I knew would be on his face.
He hated me now. I just knew it.
Slumping down the wall, I dropped my face to my hands, tears rushing down my cheeks. My chest was too tight. Everything hurt. I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs. Every breath was a wheeze, my lungs crying in pain as I tried to force myself to properly inhale. Was my heart slamming through my throat now? Was it going to choke me?
“Baby, open the door,” Tango called, slapping his palm on the closet door right next to my head. I flinched, a muffled cry ripping from my battered lungs. “Gabriel, baby boy, just open the door. You’re not in trouble. I promise.”
I sobbed and curled into a ball. If I didn’t open the door, he couldn’t get rid of me, right? He couldn’t force us to sleep apart. He couldn’t pawn me off on someone else to take care of.
I couldn’t lose him.
“Baby, just open the door. You did nothing wrong, sweet boy.” Tango’s voice was lowered, speaking softly to me. But I heard the tremor in it, the thready control he had over his anger. He had every right to be angry. I’d been jacking off in his bathroom. In the middle of the day when I knew I had to go eat lunch at any minute. I hadn’t even had the decency to get in the shower first.
My chest was too tight, but somehow, vomit managed to climb up my esophagus. I heaved and managed to shakily get to my hands and knees before throwing up. I sobbed, snot running down my face, my blunt nails biting into the hardwood flooring beneath me. I felt one of them break, and pain exploded through my finger as blood ran down my skin and dripped onto the hardwood flooring beneath my palm.
“Open the fucking door!” Tango barked, his patience finally snapping. His palm smacked against it, and I trembled.
He was going to send me away.
“N-No,” I sobbed.
“Fuck it,” he snarled. “Move out of the way of the door, boy.”
Some part of my brain was still online enough to know to move, and I did just in time, barely managing to crawl to the side, my entire body shaking. The wood suddenly splintered, the doorframe cracking, and then the closet door crashed inward, slamming against the wall behind it with enough force to shove the doorknob through the wall.
“Fuck, baby,” Tango rasped, his big hands grasping my shoulders. He pulled me up from the floor and tugged me to him. He ran his hands over me, pressing kisses to my face and hair. I sobbed, clinging to his cut, my bloodied finger making it hard for my hand to grasp onto him. I whined, crying even harder. “You did nothing wrong, baby. Nothing.” More kisses were pressed to my damp skin. “Just breathe. Focus on my breaths. Focus on my calm heartbeat. Just breathe, baby boy.”
“Y-you’re go-gonna send m-me away,” I cried, hiccups destroying my words.
He shook his head and pressed his cheek to mine so I felt the stubble of his beard scratching against my red cheek. “The only way you’re leaving my side is if someone pulls you from my cold, dead hands, you hear me? I’m never sending you away, baby. Never.” Leaning back, he cupped my face in his hands, stroking his thumbs over my wet cheeks. I sniffled, the tightness in my chest easing. Breaths were coming easier. He was keeping me. He was still keeping me. “Men jack off, Gabe. It’s normal. It’s human. I was in the wrong because I saw the closed bathroom door and didn’t respect it. I should have knocked before walking in to make sure it wasn’t being used by you. This is on me, you hear me? Not you.”
I sniffled again and nodded my head. Tango held me close then, his arms banded around me as he gently rocked me side to side. I wound my arms around his thick ribcage and rested my head on his shoulder, letting his comfort seep into my pores and down into my soul. My breathing regulated, and my heart rate slowed back to its normal pace.
And I was now so tired, and the stench of my vomit was overwhelming.
“I’m sorry for overreacting,” I mumbled.
Tango shook his head. “You’re fine, baby.” He gently lifted my head from his shoulder and stroked the pad of his thumb over my lip. My cock immediately took notice, and I prayed he couldn’t feel it. “But don’t ever lock yourself away from me again, you hear me?” A tremble seeped into his voice, and agony coated his eyes. “I was terrified, baby. I couldn’t fucking get to you. Don’t ever do that to me again. Promise me,” he rasped.
I nodded. “I won’t. I promise.”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Let’s get you out of here so I can clean up your mess.” I grimaced, remembering the pile of vomit on the floor, all my breakfast now out of my system. As Tango got ready to stand to his feet, my body still wrapped around him, a crash downstairs made me flinch. Tango immediately stopped, one knee off the ground, his body curling around mine as a threatening rumble sounded from his chest.
“Fuck!” Scorpion suddenly shouted from downstairs. Tango’s arms tightened around me, and then he was moving, urging me deeper into the closet. “Tango!” he roared. “Incoming!”
Chaos ensued. Bullets shattered the bedroom windows. Tango slammed me to the floor, his massive body covering mine all while he reached behind his back and grabbed his pistol. Someone was screaming. Was that me? Was that my shrill voice?
