His Fireman

Chapter One MY AIR’S TOO THIN. My heart’s pounding too fast. Get this s**t off me, now! Dylan coughed and spluttered within the confines of his headgear, his hands shaking as he reached for the release button and yanked his Self-Contained Breathing Apparatus mask off. Sweet, cold air rushed in to greet him, and he took a huge, hungry gulp. “You okay, man?” Todd, one of his fellow hose jockeys, patted him on the back with a huge fist, as Dylan’s lungs seized into a painful coughing fit. “Yeah ... fine ... thanks.” Dylan waved off his friend’s question and slipped down onto the concrete with a huge sigh of relief, his back against the wheel of the fire truck. What a day. He had barely put his bag down in the bunk room before they were called to this house fire. He’d stayed inside for a second rotation around the rooms when he’d known he shouldn’t have. The regulations stated that he had to come out of the house after the first pass, but he couldn’t just leave the mother in there. That had always been his problem. He wanted to help more than he listened to his supervisors. He was young and strong, so surely he could do more than the little safety circuit they warranted? The woman he had pulled out of the fire was loaded onto the gurney in front of him. She was strapped in and pushed into the waiting ambulance by two of the paramedics attending the fire. She turned her head and looked in his direction, her intense blue eyes staring at him even as they closed the doors behind her. This was why he had become a firefighter. The chief had been telling ordering out through the radio in his helmet, but he’d known she didn’t have any more time. A few more minutes on the floor in that poisonous air and she would not be breathing so well now. “You stayed in there too long against orders, Sims. You can’t keep risking yourself like that.” Dylan forced his gaze up to his boss and gave him a half smile. The man coughed and held out his hand, which Dylan shook with as much vigor as he had left in him. “But that said, you did a good job.” The Station Chief grinned at him, and Dylan pushed a hand against the asphalt and bent his knee as he prepared his tired body to stand up. The chief put his heavy hand down on Dylan’s shoulder. “No, please don’t get up. You need the rest after that one. Let the others finish hosing this one off.” Dylan nodded, l*****g his too dry lips. “Thank you, Chief.” He unzipped his heavy turnout coat, grateful for the protection but needing some air. Tim, another from his crew, came over and handed Dylan a bottle of water. He took it gratefully, twisting the cap off and swallowing the cool, refreshing liquid with a moan. His shoulders sagged in relief as his whole body groaned. The sensation was amazing as the cold water hit his empty belly, paining him a little. That’s better. “Close call, eh, Chief?” Tim asked their boss, sipping from his own bottle of water. Tim was a nice kid. Young, dumb, and full of c*m, as the saying went. But he meant well enough. “Too close. Lucky Dylan found the mother when he did.” Dylan ducked his head, heat filling his cheeks. “Yeah, you’re pretty lucky, Dylan. Hope you’re as lucky with the ladies. Maybe you could show me a thing or two next Saturday night?” The Station Chief chuckled then coughed and looked away for a moment. Everyone at their station knew he was gay. It was a simple fact, and he’d never gone to any pains to cover it up. Some of the guys were a little weird about it sometimes, but most of them were pretty good and that was mostly due to their leadership. Their chief didn’t care. His only comment was, “I don’t care who you’re f*****g, just be good at your job.” Dylan hauled his tired body up off the asphalt, black spots forming in front of his eyes. He leaned back against the fire truck, locking his knees and taking a few deep breaths. “I’m gay, Tim. My luck with the ladies is zip.” Well, that wasn’t exactly true. The ladies loved him. He was the one who never took them up on their offers, but he didn’t need to tell Tim that little nugget of information. Tim obviously hadn’t been clued in, as his mouth opened and closed for a minute before his cheeks flushed a deep, burned red color. Not particularly attractive with Tim’s carrot-red hair, but the poor guy hadn’t had much choice about that either. “Ah, sorry, man. I didn’t know.” Dylan groaned and stretched his aching back. “No worries. It’s not a big deal.” Tim moved a little step away and muttered, “Yeah, true,” and scuttled back to where the other men were. Dylan sighed and looked up at his boss. “Sir, do you need me here, or can I head back to the firehouse to fill out the paperwork?” His boss smiled kindly and laid a hand on his shoulder once again. “Head back if you want.” The captain gave his shoulder a squeeze and moved away, leaving Dylan swaying on his feet, his eyelids heavy and his arms aching and heavy like they were made of lead. Would someone just wind up the clock so that I can go home? “Hey, Dylan, you staying or coming with us?” Todd called out to him as they packed up the gear that needed loaded back on the firetruck. “If you’re going back to the firehouse, I’m with you.” Dylan grabbed his heavy turnout jacket and threw it into the back seat of their truck. There were three crews in total, but the other two would stay to make sure there were no flare-ups and finish cleaning up. His shoulders ached and he seemed to have a stitch in his side from where one of the children had kicked him on his first run through the structure. Poor little mite had been scared stiff and had fought Dylan tooth and nail as he ran out of the house with him. Then, of course, he’d headed back inside to find the mother the child had been screaming for. i***t. He should have let someone else go back in. “Ah, fuck...” Dylan grabbed a hold of the roof handrail and pulled himself into the cab of the firetruck, pain shooting around his right side. He heaved in a breath, the pain burning along one of his ribs as he settled himself into the leather seat. “What’s up?” one of the guys who sat next to him asked. “Nothing. Just feel like I’ve cracked a rib or two.” He winced as he shifted, fire exploding under his arm. Maybe he had done something worse when he had carried that woman out of the fire? “Yeah, it sucks when the adrenaline wears off doesn’t it?” the guy next to him led chuckled, and Dylan clenched his teeth in an attempt not to groan in pain. It really did f*****g hurt. “Want us to drop you at the hospital on the way?” Todd, who was now in the driver’s seat, asked as he turned the key and threw the massive truck into gear. “Nah, I’m fine,” Dylan hissed, though he could feel the sweat now beading across his forehead. “f*****g stubborn...” Todd pressed a few buttons on his cell phone and placed it in the hands-free cradle, pushing the speaker button. “Hey, bro,” a friendly male voice came through the speaker at Todd as he looked both ways for traffic. “Hey, Zach, can you do me a favor and head over to the firehouse on your way home?” The man on the phone groaned. “Yeah, if I have to. Just finished my shift. What’s wrong? Forgot the food again and it’s your turn to cook?” The other three men in the cabin burst out laughing, and there was silence on the line. “Brother, do not tell me you have me on speaker.” Todd put his foot on the accelerator and moved the truck onto the road. “I do. Just leaving a job now. Can you meet us there in fifteen? One of the crew is hurt.” “Yeah, no problem. See ya soon.” The phone cut off, and Dylan winced as he braced his body, the large truck turning a corner. His side was aching something fierce now. He forced himself to keep talking, his eyelids heavy and drooping. “Thanks, Todd. That your younger brother?” Todd grinned. “Nah, he’s older, but he’s the pretty boy of the family so he looks younger.” Dylan smiled as his eyes slid shut properly this time, a wave of nausea passing over him as they rounded another sharp corner. As an only child, he’d missed out on the fierce sibling affection he had seen between his peers and their brothers and sisters. “He a medic?” Dylan forced himself to ask as he opened his eyes again. Goose bumps rose on his skin, and he shivered. He reached for his jacket, his hands grasping the cold fabric, and pulled it over his body to cover him. “Yeah, an ER doctor actually. Hold on, almost there.” They made it back to the station, the trip an increasing blur. Dylan’s belly had threatened to give it up a few times, but he’d held it down. Mostly because he didn’t want to give the boys any other ammunition against him. He was good at his job, punctual, and never missed a shift. The chief liked him, and to top it all off, he was gay. That was enough ammo to have him ribbed for the rest of his career. The truck pulled into the garage, and Dylan forced his eyes open. He was beyond tired despite his good night’s sleep last night. Todd opened the door for him and took his hand. “Here.” Dylan swung his body around and hopped down. He hissed in pain and swayed, Todd’s arm snaking around him. Thank God for guys who weren’t homophobic. “Come lie down and I’ll send my brother up when he gets here.” Dylan nodded, the pain making his brain fuzzy. He was beyond grateful for the strong arms that helped him up the stairs and guided him down onto the thin mattress of the bed. Todd was a good guy, and one who would probably be chief some day. “Thanks, Todd. Just need a minute ... need to rest for a bit...” Dylan’s eyes slid shut again as the soft pillow cushioned his head. The warmth of the rough woolen blanket slid over him as he sank deeply into sleep. Oblivion was welcome as his body cried out to him in pain. ****