Falling in Place (MxM)

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Wesley had heard the sound of fractured ice for the second time, and he wanted to scream. He could only take so much heartache from his dog falling into the water. Rosie had enough pain from her cancer to last a lifetime, that this felt like a sick joke someone was playing.

"Shit," he could hear the stranger say before a splash was heard, and Wesley feared the worst. He couldn't lose Rosie. She was the love of his life, went everywhere with him, even to Pete's Coffee, even though they technically didn't allow animals.

The visibility had gotten worse, the snow falling faster, and Wesley wished he could see where they were at. All he had to go off of was the tension of the string. He kept pulling but it didn't feel like it was moving. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of Rosie's nails on the ice, and through the fog of the snow, he could see her drenched body sliding towards the shore.

"Rosie," he cried, reaching forward to grab her shaking form, using the towel to wrap her into a bundle. Almost overwhelmed with relief, Wesley took a second to realize there was still the man out there. "Sir! Hello?"

He didn't hear anything, and the anxiety he felt from seeing Rosie fall in was back, but now was for this stranger who had helped his dog. Wesley made sure Rosie was safe where she was at before approaching the edge of the lake, trying desperately to find the man.

Wesley didn't hate a lot of things, in fact, this had been the only thing he hated, water. Or perhaps more specifically this lake. It held dark memories for Wesley, and the fact that he couldn't get over his past with the lake in order to save Rosie himself was something he hated.

He felt powerless.

A stranger had jumped in to save his dog, and now Wesley couldn't even return the favor.

"Sir?" He shouted again, only hearing the slight sound of the water, the wind drowning everything out. "Sir?"

He couldn't hear him, but all of a sudden he felt a tug on the line, and Wesley pulled as hard as he could. He never considered himself very strong, after all, he was but a mere librarian and coffee addict. He wasn't a fan of working out, would rather go on walks or runs with Rosie if anything. The man was at least 40-50 pounds more of pure muscle, but Wesley was more determined than ever to help the guy out. So he pulled and pulled until he could see him, sopping wet.

"Oh my God," Wesley found him saying before inching closer to the water. "Are you alright?"

The man looked up, and that was when Wesley had seen the blood. His arm had a small cut, another on his waist, his shirt sliced open from the ice.

"Pass me the stick," he said, reaching a hand out to him. Wesley fumbled, still flustered that the man had been injured helping his dog. He stuck out the pole, as the man graciously held onto it. He was shaking violently, and guilt was weighing down on Wesley as the man dragged his bleeding self the rest of the way back to the shore.

Wesley reached a hand out, reaching under the man's upper arm, and helped him stand uneasily. He glanced around until his eyes settled on Rosie who was sitting beside the towel.

"Is-is the dog okay?"

Wesley blinked at the man's question. He should be more worried for himself, Wesley thought. "Wh-what about you? Are you alright, you're bleeding?"

"Minor," the man frowned, but the tremors that wracked his form was anything but minor. Wesley stripped his winter coat off, draping it around the man's shoulders before patting his upper arm.

"Let's get out of this cold. The snow's only going to get worse. Are you alright to drive?" Wesley was used to fretting over people, he had done it with his siblings, his grandparents, even his ex-boyfriend.

"They're minor cuts."

"Still, I'll show you to the clinic, and pay for any bills. I'm sorry to trouble you like this."

"It's fine," the man waved it off before heading to his car. "I'll drive you home. Crazy to think you'd be out in this weather, are you insane?"

"She wanted to go for a walk," Wesley scratched behind her ear. "Thought I had enough time till the snowstorm rolled in."

"Rookie mistake."

"Says the man who took off his jacket."

Said man rolled his eyes before opening the car door.

Wesley sat in the front seat, with Rosie in his lap, her skin still cold to the touch, but the towel had helped with her shivering. Luckily Wesley had held off on trimming her fur, which probably helped her stay warmer than the man in the driver seat. The man turned his key, but the car sputtered, refusing to start. He tried again, but to no avail, it didn't turn on at all.

"Fuck!" The man shouted, slamming his hand on the steering wheel, his teeth still chattering terribly. "It's not starting, piece of shit."

Wesley flinched at the outburst but was quick to try and ease the situation. "My car's right around the corner. I can drive you to the clinic. You could have hypothermia."

"No, it's fine," the man replied. "You should check up on your dog. Take her to the vet."

"Come on," Wesley urged. "Where will you go? Let me drive you, your car's dead."

The man sighed, before running a hand through his damp hair, bringing Wesley's jacket tighter against him, hoping he could just feel warmer. "Fine."

"Wesley," he introduced. "Wesley James. This here is Rosie."

"Ethan," the stranger introduced himself. "Ethan Harden."

"Well, Ethan. Thank you," Wesley said. "She means the world to me. I don't know what I would've done if you weren't here."

Ethan scoffed. "Just doing my job."

"Regardless, thank you."

Ethan hummed before reaching over to pet Rosie. 

"Why, hello there beautiful," he said under his breath, rubbing the top of her head lovingly.