Off Base

by Annabeth Albert

  “I’ve got suggestions.” Pike gave him another wink that went straight to Zack’s dick, which had suggestions too. “No, seriously, you’re not a small guy, Muscles. You’re going to love the extra space.”

  “Maybe.” Zack chewed the inside of his cheek.

  “Surely you’ve shared a double before, right? When you’ve hooked up?”

  Jesus. Could Pike be any louder? He shook his head, knowing he was blushing like an idiot.

  “No?” Pike’s eyes went as wide as Zack’s favorite compass. “Like never hooked up or they all had twin beds too?”

  “I don’t do that,” he muttered, looking around to make sure they didn’t have an audience. “Hook up, I mean. Just not into that whole scene.”

  “But you’d be into having a girlfriend? A longer-term thing?” Fuck. Pike was not letting this drop.

  “Someday, sure.” Zack shrugged his way through the lie he usually delivered pretty damn convincingly. I don’t hook up. Not into one-night stands. Just looking for the right girl. He’d said all those things before and never once felt this hollow afterward. And yeah, maybe this was his problem with the bigger bed—sure, the extra space would be nice, but it felt like an admission that he might be going to share it with another person at some point. Which wasn’t happening.

  “A virgin SEAL—”

  “Shut up.” He shoved Pike’s shoulder.

  Pike neatly sidestepped his grip. “I’m just saying, you must be rarer than a fucking unicorn. I thought you guys got all the ass—of any gender—you wanted.”

  “Hus—” Zack went to shove him again but slid on a throw rug, sending both of them tumbling onto the bed. The really big bed. Next to each other. In a heap, in the middle of IKEA.

  “Comfortable, right?” A salesperson in a blue polo shirt chose that moment to check in with them. “That’s our top-of-the-line mattress. Especially if you guys are sharing—”

  “We’re not.” Zack jumped off the bed. “Where do we pick up the mattress and the parts for the bed?” Get me out of here. Fuck, he was done arguing about bed sizes with Pike. Done with people thinking they were a couple. Done with this night.

  * * *

  “You know my sheets aren’t all rainbows and half-naked cowboys,” Pike said as he carried in the stack of new bedding Zack had insisted on getting. The closest things to plain white they carried, natch.

  The look Zack gave him was indecipherable. He was hefting the box containing dresser parts like it was nothing more than a pile of notebooks.

  “Wanted to make sure they’d fit,” Zack said as they entered his room. The mattress was propped against one wall, with the parts for the bed stacked neatly in the center of the room.

  Pike set his load down next to the mattress and knelt by the bed parts. “Okay, that was the last of the stuff from the truck. Let’s assemble this bad boy so you can sleep tonight.”

  “I’ve got it.” Zack all but muscled Pike out of the way.

  “You don’t want help putting it together?” A hint of hurt crept into Pike’s voice. Fuck. He didn’t want to care whether or not he helped assemble the bed. He didn’t want to like working with Zack so much. Other than Zack’s stick-in-the-ass moments whenever someone assumed they might be a couple, shopping with Zack was fun. They had bickered over dressers and entertainment units in an amusing way, and Pike had enjoyed snarking on the other shoppers while Zack snorted and tried to hide his smiles.

  “Nah.” Zack motioned at the door. “Go work on the entertainment unit maybe. Or just chill. You’ve had a really long day.”

  Aww. That was sweet of Zack to notice, really, since this was a guy used to forgoing sleep for days for the sake of his team. But at the same time, Pike felt a bit...dismissed as he fled back to the living room. Despite what Zack said, chilling in his room with his laptop didn’t seem right. After all, Zack and the senior chief had helped assemble his bed. It didn’t feel right to simply go and put his feet up.

  He started by removing all the laminated particle board parts of the stand for the TV and gaming systems. He’d assembled enough stuff by himself to know that getting started was the trickiest bit, but he used the box of games to help brace the first side panel. He was just lining up the pegs for the shelves when a stream of curses came from Zack’s room.

  Unable to resist, Pike went to check on him, finding Zack surrounded by stacks of boards and piles of screws, a pissed-off expression on his face. “Goddamn piece of shit directions,” he said.

  “Want help?” Pike offered, mainly just to watch Zack grimace and try to work though whether or not to accept the offer. Zack tilted his head one way then the other, sighed heavily and kicked at the boards.

  Finally, Zack sighed again. “You speak Swedish and read hieroglyphics?”

  “I speak fluent IKEA-ease,” Pike assured him as he came into the room. “And I’m a whiz with a hex bolt. But mainly I think these boards are so long that you just need a second person to keep it level.”

  “You can do that,” Zack conceded, because of course Mr. Big Bad SEAL would get to handle the tools. Mr. Big Bad Virgin SEAL. Wow. Pike knew he’d probably been wrong to press him about his sexual history in the middle of IKEA, but holy cow, the kid had never even shared a bed with anyone. What’s more, he didn’t seem to find anything weird about the fact that he didn’t seem at all tempted to either.

  Now, maybe the guy was asexual, which was a totally valid orientation and a real possibility here, but Pike couldn’t help feeling like Zack was working overtime to refuse to admit the truth about himself whether that were asexual, bisexual or gay. There was this certain look Zack got in his eyes—an expression of confusion and longing Pike had witnessed a bunch of times. At the bars in West Hollywood. Whenever they were around Josiah and Ryan sharing a tender moment. At IKEA Zack couldn’t seem to look away from the gay couple arguing over pillows, but when they’d been in line behind the most lovey-dovey het couple ever, Zack had barely paid them a glance. And maybe Pike was just confused by his own conflicting feelings, but damn... He couldn’t possibly be misreading some of the hot and heavy looks Zack had been sending his way since they met.

  “So you’re on duty tomorrow, right?” Pike did his best to keep the long unpainted pine board at the right height for Zack.

  “And the next three days.” Zack grunted as he reached around for a bolt, and it was a strangely sexy noise.

  “So what do you want me to start on? I’ve got to prep for my classes and do new faculty orientation stuff, but I should have some time to work on stuff here too.”

  “It can wait until I can do the list with you.”

  “There’s a list? That’s great. Just message me a copy and I’ll look for the one-man jobs.” Pike accepted the screw Zack passed him, putting it in the slot before Zack slid over with the wrench.

  “I should really be around—”

  “Dude. You’re going to need to trust me. I get that that’s going to take time, but I’m not the flake everyone seems to always assume—”

  “I didn’t call you that.” Zack huffed as he tightened the screw.

  “But you thought it.” It was okay. Really. Everyone thought that just because he was flirty and a comedian that he couldn’t hold down a real job or be a responsible adult. But for the first time in his life, Pike was determined to prove everyone wrong. “Trust me. I’m good at this stuff. Want to talk to my mom?” Pike fished his phone out with his free hand.

  “You’d let me talk to your mom?” Zack blinked. “This late at night?”

  “She’s a night owl. And she’s already heard about you and the roommate situation.” Pike knew Zack would never say it, but he’d bet money that Zack’s parents didn’t even know he was living off base, let alone with Pike. “And she can tell you that you can trust me to rip up that dank carpeting in the living room or whateve
r. She’ll like you. She likes all my friends.”

  “We’re friends?” Zack’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Guess not.” Pike tried not to sound hurt. “I thought we were working on it, what with you letting me stay here—”

  “We can be friends,” Zack said hurriedly. “But maybe not meet-the-parents friends quite yet, okay?”

  “Fine.” Pike scooted his phone away with his foot. “I’m just saying, I’m good at stuff. And I want to work with you.” Surprisingly, he really did. He liked doing things with Zack, like this project. It gave him a warm feeling as the bed platform started to take shape. “But I’m also good with you delegating to me.”

  “You want orders?” Zack raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes, please.” And now they were back to flirting as Pike couldn’t quite keep the flirtatious lilt out of his voice.

  Zack gave him a considering look, one that made Pike want to lay all his kinks out for Zack to examine and ponder. Finally, he spoke. “I yanked the carpet in the hall, but the tack strips still need to come up. And I guess you could do the carpet in the living room if you’ve got time—”

  “I’ll make time,” Pike assured him. “And get me a copy of that list.” Why it mattered so much to Pike to be an equal to Zack, to be partners in this house thing, he really couldn’t say. But he wanted that, wanted to work together.

  “Motherfucker.” Zack recoiled as he pinched his finger between two slats.

  “You’ve got an awfully salty mouth for a v—”

  “Don’t.” Zack sucked on his finger in a way that went straight to Pike’s dick, which decided it would like that tongue lavishing attention on it too. “And I think it’s impossible to go through boot camp and BUD/S and not come out cursing. Damn, this hurts.”

  “Let me see.” Pike grabbed Zack’s hand, examining the rapidly forming blood blister. Zack’s hand was heavy in his. Warm. Right. “It didn’t break the skin at least. And I don’t think the finger’s broken.”

  “It’s fine.” Zack yanked his hand back, as if he too had felt the jolt of electricity between them at the contact. “Let’s get this done.”

  The remaining slats were a hassle and a half to get in place with fiddly little spacers that made Pike moan about the simplicity of box springs. Zack told him to suck it up. “Too late now. Just got to finish the job.”

  Finally, they were able to wrestle the mattress into place on top of the platform.

  “We did it.” Pike flopped down onto the bed.

  “What are you doing?” Zack loomed large over him.

  “Celebrating.” Pike hooked Zack’s leg with his foot, sending him off balance enough to tug him down next to him. “See? Isn’t it great.”

  “It’s a bed.” Zack sounded a bit breathless, body right next to Pike’s. “Nothing special.”

  “Yes, it is.” Pike turned so they were face-to-face. “We built it. We’re not falling to the floor. That makes it special.” What really made it special was the guy next to him, not that Pike was saying that. God, Zack was pretty to look at, all blond hair and pale winter-sky eyes and long, straight nose. He wasn’t movie-star handsome like his friend Harper, but he was hot as fuck in a boy-next-door kind of way. And God, those muscles under his tight T-shirt, which was slightly damp with sweat. Pike wanted to touch the fabric, feel the warmth of the guy next to him.

  Pike shifted. Not much. Maybe an inch, but Zack did the same and suddenly his face was right there and—

  “I better get bedding on the bed. It’s not good to lay on it bare.” Zack hopped up off the bed like he’d been burned. “And it’s late. You probably need sleep.”

  Not here was the heavily implied message there. Pike heaved himself off the bed. So much for that. And hell, if they kept having these weird bonding moments followed by Zack freak-outs, Pike was in for a long-ass year.

  Chapter Seven

  Three long days of training, capped off with a four-hour monster-mash test of endurance and skills, and Zack was so fucking grateful to be home that he sat a minute in his truck in the driveway, letting the stress roll off him, relieved that Pike’s little beater car was nowhere to be seen. Zack totally wasn’t fit for human consumption right then.

  He’d been paired with Cobb and Harper along with Rodriguez for the monster mash, competing against the other guys on the team. Thank God Cobb hadn’t been in one of his moods, but still Zack hadn’t wanted to test him. He’d beaten feet to get the hell out of there the second they were dismissed.

  He’d spent the whole competition just waiting for Harper to say something to Cobb about his new roommate and all hell to break loose. But Harper had been strangely subdued and uber-deferential to the senior chief, leading Zack to wonder if maybe the senior chief had said something to him. God, what a clusterfuck. All he needed was the senior chief thinking he needed protecting. He was just as tough as anyone else on the team. And they’d come in a very respectable second in the competition, working together to run through the obstacle course carrying a two-hundred-pound dummy before assembling a radio. That part Zack was good at, and damn proud of it.

  Proud but tired as fuck. He hauled himself out of the truck, unlocked the front door and bent to unlace his boots and kick off his socks. He hadn’t slept much the past three days of training, and while the other guys were getting their Friday beers and anticipating getting their weekend swerve on, all Zack was anticipating was a chance to go to bed early. Early as in before Pike got back. Tomorrow they’d already arranged via text to do some major work in the kitchen, and if Zack was going to be up for a whole day of close proximity to Pike, he needed some rest.

  But first, food. He straightened, intending to head to the kitchen, but did a double take at the state of the living room. Gone was the mangy shag carpeting, revealing nicely swept hardwoods in need of refinishing. All the tack strips around the perimeter of the room had been removed as well. In the center of the room, the large, faded and stained blue couch from the senior chief had been covered with a black slipcover and looked almost respectable opposite the newly assembled IKEA entertainment center with Pike’s TV and all his gaming equipment. Pike had put a small throw rug between the couch and the TV, a brightly colored nubbly number that Zack would have expected in a bathroom, but which added a certain whimsy to the otherwise bare room.

  It reminded Zack of the mail-order purchases his grandmother had been fond of, cluttering her house with colorful doodads and stacks of mail—

  Mail. Hell, he’d forgotten to grab that on his way in. No way was he putting his boots back on just to step out onto the little porch. He opened the front door, musing about how he bet Pike would have liked Grandma and—

  Swish. Fuck it all to hell, the bigger of the two cats snuck between his legs, barreling toward freedom.

  “Gizmo!” Zack yelled, like the cat was going to slow down at the sound of his name. Sure enough, he just kept right on going, off the porch and into the front yard. Hell. No time to grab his boots now. He couldn’t let the cat out into a strange neighborhood. Pike would kill him if anything happened to the cat. He darted after him, prickly dried grass and plants stabbing at the soles of his bare feet. Gizmo paused to dig in front of a cactus and Zack almost had him—

  “Motherfucker.” A particularly sharp rock dug into his foot right at the same time the cat bolted. Zack had no choice but to follow suit, chasing him into the neighbor’s yard. He hadn’t met the neighbors yet but didn’t have time to worry about that as the cat was sprinting through their yard, past some plastic kid toys and a basketball hoop, around the back and through an unlocked gate, totally trespassing.

  Gizmo skirted the edge of a small pool. Fuck. The last thing Zack needed was Pike’s cat to drown on his watch.

  “What the hell?” An angry man with a potbelly stormed onto the patio.

  “I’m your neighbor. Trying t
o get my cat back.” Zack spoke quickly, grateful that his physical conditioning meant he wasn’t out of breath after the chase. Hoping the guy wasn’t about to get violent or call the cops, he gestured at the cat, who was hunkering under a bush.

  “Well, hurry up and get it then.” The guy glared at him. Not the best possible first meeting. Zack rushed over to the cat—for Pete’s sake, he’d done a two-mile swim and six-mile run earlier, he should be able to capture one pesky feline. But no, the cat slid right through his grasp. He was a big cat too—some kind of Maine Coon Pike had said and had to weigh close to twenty-five pounds, but hell if he wasn’t a slippery bastard.

  “No more sleeping in my bed,” Zack yelled, before he remembered that he had an audience.

  The guy rolled his eyes. “Shut the damn gate after you,” he said as Gizmo scampered over the fence, back into Zack’s backyard.

  Zack hurriedly shut the gate and headed after Gizmo only to find him up a fucking tree, meowing plaintively.

  “Well, dummy, you got yourself up there. You can get yourself down.”

  “Meow,” the cat yodeled in response.

  Fuck. The tree was tall but spindly. Zack tested the trunk. Yeah, no way was it holding his weight.

  “Stay right there,” he lectured the cat as he ran at top speed back into the house, grabbed a pop-top can of tuna from the cupboard and hightailed it back to the tree, where the cat still cowered and whined.

  “Here, Gizmo. Kitty want a treat?” Zack tried to keep his voice nice and sweet. This shouldn’t be this hard. He’d rescued plenty of animals before. Hell, most of the time they were desperate to come with him. Easy peasy. And the food should do it.

  He wafted the can around before setting it at the base of the tree and waiting. Slowly, the cat picked its way down the tree until Zack could almost grab—