Dirty Boys

push myself up, when a firm hand gripped my arm and helped pull me to my feet.
    “Are you okay?” Connor asked, keeping a hold of my arm as if he was worried I might fall again.
    I opened my mouth to say something, though I wasn’t quite sure what, but Connor didn’t give me the chance to speak. “Maybe you should sit down until we’re sure you’re okay.”
    “You’re right,” Mark chimed in, appearing on my other side and feigning concern before Connor could try to make me sit down. I glared at him, not sure what he was up to. “We can’t wait for Devon though, we have got to go empty the truck, and it’ll take at least ninety minutes. Can you stay with him, and we’ll come back and pick him up after dumping this load and refueling?” Mark phrased it as a question, but his tone didn’t leave any room for refusal.
    My glare deepened, and I knew I was probably looking at Mark like I wanted to kill him. Before I could say I was okay and that the truck wasn’t full or needing gas, Connor responded, “Of course, I’ll make sure he’s taken care of.”
    “Thank you,” Mark told Connor before leaning into my ear and whispering, “You’ll thank me for this later.”
    The last time he said those words to me, I ended up being robbed when he and his wife had taken me out to my first gay bar for my twenty-first birthday. Yadda yadda, I woke up to find my shit, which I had cleverly hidden in the oven, gone. It was not a fun experience, and I still blamed Mark for that disaster to this day.
    “I’m Connor, by the way,” he said, as the truck pulled away, leaving us standing in the street.
    Even though he wasn’t looking at me, I smiled and said “Devon. Nice to meet you.”
    ****
    When Connor then spoke the words, “Let’s get you inside and cleaned up,” I had a feeling Mark was right. Connor led me toward his house, and as I glanced back at the truck fading into the distance, I thought I might end up actually owing Mark for this one. I might even have to forgive him a little for the birthday disaster. Maybe.
    As much as I wanted to go inside with Connor, I felt bad for troubling him. He hadn’t sounded put out or inconvenienced when he spoke earlier, but just in case, I offered him an out. “I’ll be okay if you’re busy. You don’t have to stop your work to help me.”
    Connor’s pale blue eyes met mine. “I was already done with trimming the bushes, and I’m not just going to leave you out here waiting for them to come back.”
    He pulled my arm towards his house. I glanced down at his hand, realizing that before, so much was happening that I really didn’t notice how warm his hand was, or how good it felt against my arm. I was so distracted thinking about how that hand would feel wrapped around a different part of my body that I wasn’t paying attention to the fact that I was letting him guide me. Unfortunately, I failed to see the curb and stumbled forward. I would have fallen again, but Connor had quick reflexes. He brought his free hand up to my chest and kept me from completely losing my balance.
    “You okay?” His voice showed his worry. He left his hand on my chest, and I was afraid he could feel my heart pounding like a jackhammer.
    I felt my face flush, and I wasn’t sure if it was more from embarrassment or a reaction to the intimate contact. My cock was more than half-hard, so I must not have been too embarrassed.
    “I’m not usually so clumsy,” I said weakly. I really didn’t want Connor thinking I was a total klutz, but it was probably a little too late for that.
    “I’m sure, but you did just fall down. Are you dizzy or anything?” Connor asked, sounding concerned, though he didn’t falter at all leading me towards his house. I made sure to look where I was walking as we continued on toward his porch.
    “Seriously, Connor, I’m fine.”
    “You’re not actually. You have a cut above your eye.”
    It must have been the adrenaline rush, or my near panic and embarrassment, because I had not realized that I had cut myself. It couldn’t have been very deep or I would have felt it bleeding.
    “Thank you again for helping me; sorry my friend just dumped me on you,” I said, trying to make a little joke.
    “That’s okay, I love a good dump,” Connor said automatically.
    I couldn’t help but stop walking and laugh. I looked at him and his cheeks turned a little red, so I tried to stop laughing.
    “That didn’t come out right. I meant that to sound a little