by L. A. Witt
Brent sighed. “Look, I have no idea when I would have figured it out if I hadn’t met you. All I know is that when I had to choose between you and the Navy, it was a no-brainer because I only want one of those choices.”
“So you—”
“I don’t want this career. I never did. I went along with it because it’s what was expected of me, and because even when I was a kid, I wasn’t allowed to consider anything else. After that time when I was nine, I never once stopped to think about if it was really what I wanted.” He swallowed like it took some serious work, and his voice wavered as he said, “Not until it was standing between me and something—someone—I do want.”
“But . . . I can’t be the reason . . .” I was still too shocked to put my thoughts in any kind of order.
Brent had it closer to together than I did, though. “Yes, you’re the reason I figured it out. I won’t lie. When I met you and realized I couldn’t have you because of the Navy, it made me take stock of things. Of everything. And the fact is, I’ve been miserable all along. I thought it was because my career hadn’t picked up steam yet and I was still paying my dues, but that’s not it at all. I mean . . .” He clenched his jaw like he was trying to keep himself composed. “Remember when you said that the horrible parts of your job are worth it when you can keep other people safe?”
Suppressing a shudder, I nodded.
“That got me thinking, and I realized the silver lining of my job was that I had you. I met you because of the Navy, and we’re both in the same town because of it. But then the Navy is also the reason I can’t have you. And without you . . .” He shook his head and released a long breath. “The fact is, at the end of the day, I hate the Navy. I hate this job. And . . .” He met my gaze. “And I love you.”
My heart somersaulted. I stared at him in disbelief.
Apparently, for longer than I thought, because he sagged against the wall and exhaled. “That’s it. That’s all I came to say. If you want me to go, then . . .” He made a weak gesture toward the front door. “I’ll go.”
“Let’s get one thing clear right now.” I stepped closer and cupped his face. “I have never once wanted you to go.”
Then I kissed him.
And sweet Jesus, it was like coming home.
Brent stiffened for a split second before he wrapped his arms around me. His lips parted for my tongue, and we let this slow, languid kiss linger. Funny how our first kiss had been in the back hallway of a gay bar, and our first kiss after finding our way back to each other was in the hallway of my apartment. This one couldn’t be any more different from that one, though. The first time, we’d been needy, demanding, and horny. Now, it was just as needy, but tender and . . . relieved. We’d been winding each other up back then so we could go fuck. Now, like that kiss we’d shared in the Japanese garden in Portland, this could stand all on its own. It was a relief more than a prelude.
That wasn’t to say this wouldn’t lead to something else—the heat building between us couldn’t be ignored forever—but not yet.
Brent broke the kiss with a shiver. “I missed this so much.”
“Me too.” I caressed his face. “I didn’t think there was any way . . .”
“I know. Neither did I.” He swept his tongue across his lips. “I should’ve figured it out sooner. This is the first career decision I’ve ever made for myself, and I’m sorry you had to get dragged along while I got my head together.”
“I don’t care. I have you back—that’s all I can think of right now.” I tipped up his chin and smiled. “And, hey, on the bright side, if you hadn’t gone into the Navy, I never would’ve met you.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”
I chuckled, but it quickly faded. “Being with me means being with the Navy, though.”
“I know. And I’m fine with that. I was a Navy brat, remember? I just don’t want to be the one in the Navy. If you are, then . . . that’s fine. That’s great. In fact, I want you to make master chief and retire at thirty years. Because it’s what you want.” He cupped my cheek. “And I want to be there with you when you do.”
“But what will you do?”
Brent shook his head. “Like I said, I don’t know. I honestly don’t. I . . .” He chewed his lip as he avoided my eyes, and some renewed tension tugged at his features.
“What’s wrong?”
He exhaled. “To put it bluntly?” He met my gaze. “I really have no idea what I’ll do next because I have no idea who I am. The Navy was such a foregone conclusion for me from the time I was a kid, I’ve never given serious thought to doing anything else. Now that I have that opportunity?” He swallowed, and I swore there was the subtlest gleam of tears in his eyes. “I have no idea.”
I gathered him in my arms. “Jesus, Brent. I didn’t realize how much this had consumed your life.”
His whole body seemed to go slack between mine and the wall. Not like he was breaking down, just that he was tired of holding himself up. That was fine—I had no problem letting him lean on me right then, especially with as close as I’d come to pushing him away.
As I stroked his hair, he quietly said, “The Navy has been my whole life. I will be so glad when that’s over. And . . .” He sighed heavily. “I know this has been hard on you. Dating me on the sly and all. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I held him a little tighter and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I wanted to be with you no matter what the Navy said about it.”
“Me too.”
For ages, we stood there, holding on and letting the truth sink in. After being so convinced there was no way we could make this work . . . here we were. I had no doubt we’d be dragging each other into the bedroom before too much longer, but for now, we let the moment be.
After a while, I combed my fingers through his hair. “So what happens now?”
“Now I start looking for a job.”
“How much time do you have?”
“I have a solid thirty days of leave on the books, so . . . a month?” He grimaced. “Not that the economy is great, and I can’t imagine there’s a whole lot of work in this town, but I’ll find something. And I don’t know how it’ll look on a résumé that I went to the Academy and then quit after less than ten years, but . . .” He waved a hand. “I’ll figure something out. I’ve got enough in savings to keep me going for a while.”
“I think you’ll be fine. If I can help, say so.”
“Thanks. I’m nervous, but . . . God, it’s a huge relief just to say it. I’m resigning.” He smiled up at me. “No more living the life someone else decided for me, and I get to be with you. What’s not to love?”
I smiled back and wrapped an arm around his waist. Touching my forehead to his, I whispered, “I love you, Brent.”
“I love you too.”
I kissed him once more, then met his eyes. “You know, as long as you’re here . . .”
His eyebrows rose, as did the corners of his mouth. “Hmm?”
I glanced toward the bedroom.
So did he.
And neither of us had to say another word.
I’d barely landed on Will’s bed before my back was arching off the mattress. I couldn’t help it—with his hot, naked skin against mine, and with the way he kissed up and down my neck, I was coming unglued. It wasn’t even that I was getting close to coming—I wasn’t yet—just that it felt like forever since I’d touched him, and now I wanted to drown in him. Every time I’d been with him, I’d wanted him so bad it’d threatened to drive me insane, but none of those times held a candle to the way I needed him right now.
It wasn’t like makeup sex after a fight. We hadn’t fought. Someday we definitely would, and then I could find out what makeup sex was like with him, but not tonight. This was something completely different, and . . . not. It was less Let’s fuck now that I can stand you again and more I didn’t think I’d ever have you again. It wasn’t even the same as when we’d been apart for a few days at Thanks
giving. We’d known that was a finite separation. This time, not so much.
The way we touched was gentle and subdued, but with an undercurrent of need that reminded me of the night we’d fucked in the bathroom at the High-&-Tight. Like if we’d waited another minute to get undressed and into bed, something would’ve caught on fire. Or it still might.
He dove for my neck. “I missed you so much. I’ve been going crazy.”
“Me too.” I dragged my nails up his back as he kissed along my throat. “Fuck, I want you so bad.”
“You have me. I’m not going anywhere.”
This time, I believed him a hundred percent. He wasn’t going anywhere and neither was I, and there was nothing else to do tonight except turn each other on and make each other come.
I pushed him onto his back, and he groaned as I climbed on top of him.
“I like where this is going,” he murmured before claiming a demanding kiss.
“Me too.” I rubbed my erection against his. “Think one of us should put on a raincoat, though.”
Will moaned against my mouth. “Yeah. Definitely agree.”
“Any preference?”
“Don’t care.” He squeezed my hips as he pressed our cocks together. “Long as we’re fucking, I really don’t care.”
“Mmm, I like the way you think.”
Except we weren’t getting any closer to putting on a condom. His hands were all over me, and our bodies were moving like they didn’t need any input from either of our brains, rocking together like one of us was already inside the other.
Will finally broke away and panted, “Condom. Now.”
“Good idea.” Still straddling him, I leaned toward the nightstand. On paper, it was a simple set of tasks—open the drawer, get a condom and the lube, and come back to Will—but damn he made it difficult. How was I supposed to operate a drawer or my own fucking fingers when he was kissing up my side, teasing my balls with his fingertips, nibbling my skin . . .
I shivered, still fumbling with the drawer. “You’re a bastard.”
He laughed as his finger drifted from my balls toward my hole. “You really think that’s going to discourage me?”
“No, because you’re a bastard.”
“Fair enough.” He teased my ass with a fingertip. “But I like making you squirm, so . . . sorry not sorry.”
I groaned. Then I shoved the lube into his grasp. “Hold that.” At least that would keep one of his hands busy.
It didn’t help. He only needed one to drive me crazy, and he took full advantage. The tip of his finger pressed into me in the same moment I pulled the box of condoms from the drawer, and when I shuddered, I lost my grip. Of course they couldn’t tumble back into the drawer—instead, they bounced off the drawer and onto the carpet.
“Damn it,” I muttered.
Will craned his neck. He slid his finger out and started to reach toward the floor. “Actually, I think I can reach—”
“Fuck ’em.” I turned his head and kissed him again as I pried the lube from his hand. “Don’t want to wait.”
“You . . . want to go bareback?” He didn’t seem entirely opposed to the idea, but not completely sold on it either.
I shook my head. “Not yet. We’ll get there.” I winked as I poured some lube into my palm. “But there’s plenty we can do without rubbers.” I coated our cocks in lube, then pressed against him and closed my hand as best I could around them both.
Then Will added his hand, so I thrust into our grips. His wasn’t as slick as mine, and the hint of friction was dizzying.
“Like that?” I asked.
“Uh-huh.” He arched under me. “Oh yeah, that feels good.” Before I could respond, his free hand grabbed the back of my neck, and he pulled me into a kiss, and now it was perfect. Oh Christ. It was hard, sloppy, hungry kissing, both of us taking sharp breaths through our noses because no way in hell were we coming up for air. I fucked against him, into our hands, and he pushed back, the underside of his cock sliding back and forth along mine.
Our hands and bodies moved faster. My head spun faster. Everything seemed to be happening faster and faster and faster, and I finally had to come up for air so I didn’t pass out, and Will moaned my name as he arched off the bed, and Fuck yeah, don’t stop, don’t stop . . .
“I’m gonna come.” I shuddered. “God, I’m gonna—” Will picked that moment to slide his finger over the head of my cock, and I lost it.
As my cum landed on his stomach, Will grunted and jerked, and his cock stiffened against mine a second before he came too, adding his own semen to the mix. I tried to keep thrusting for as long as possible, but I was too far gone for that kind of coordination.
I shuddered one more time, and then my elbows buckled, and Will pulled me down on top of him.
“In case it wasn’t abundantly clear,” I mumbled, “I missed you.”
He laughed, combing his fingers through my hair. Man, I’d missed that too. I’d missed all the little things he did that he probably didn’t realize I noticed. Things like kissing my forehead and playing with my hair and looking at me like he was already mentally fucking me before we’d even taken off our clothes.
“We should get cleaned up,” he said after a while. “All this lube and cum everywhere . . .”
I chuckled. “That just an excuse to get me into the shower so we can get started again?”
“Do I need an excuse?”
“Not really, no.”
We pried ourselves apart and took a long, lazy shower, spending more time kissing and holding on than actually soaping or scrubbing. Neither of us was quite ready to go again, though, so we climbed back into bed under the covers.
Wrapped up in his arms, I closed my eyes. For the last few days, I’d been asking myself over and over if I was sure I wasn’t giving up my career for him. If that decision had really been for me. I knew the answer was yes. The Navy wasn’t for me, and I was done.
But when I was pressed against him like this, warm and satisfied, I could definitely concede that this was a damn nice bonus.
“How long did you say your terminal leave was?” he asked after a while.
I shifted around a bit so I could look at him. “Thirty days. Would’ve been longer, but I burned a few days over the summer.”
“I’m not going to complain that it’s shorter.”
“Yeah, same here.” I touched his face and smiled. “I can’t wait until it’s over.”
Will kissed my palm. “No kidding. But we’ll still have to be discreet for a while.”
“I know. I can live with that if you can.”
Will brushed his lips across mine. “I can definitely live with it. In fact, maybe we can sneak in another trip to Portland in the meantime.”
“I like that idea.” I grinned. “Let me know when you have another three-day weekend, and you’re on.”
He kissed my forehead. I loved when he did that. “I definitely will,” he said. “And hey, I heard Chicken ’N’ Fire has a new hot wing challenge.”
I groaned, and he burst out laughing. “Asshole,” I muttered.
Still snickering, he gathered me in his arms and held me against his chest. I sighed happily as I closed my eyes and nestled against him. I couldn’t stay all night in his bed quite yet, but it wouldn’t be much longer before I could. We couldn’t go out in public together yet, but . . . soon.
All we had to do was get through my terminal leave, and we’d be home free.
The hard part was almost over.
Thirty Days Later
My dad didn’t take the news well.
I called him the day I went on terminal leave. I’d considered waiting until my actual separation date, since I could still withdraw my resignation and come back off terminal leave, but decided to get it over with. The decision was made. Dad wasn’t talking me out of it. Nobody was.
The conversation had been long and loud. I’d been to the Academy. I’d graduated near the top of my class. Officers like me—especiall
y Jamesons—didn’t resign. I was a disappointment, and it was a damn good thing my grandfather hadn’t lived long enough to see this, and what the hell was I going to do with myself as a civilian?
Truth was, I didn’t know the answer to that. After a month of terminal leave, I still didn’t know what the future held for me professionally. I’d never had this freedom before. My course had been plotted out since I was a kid, and up until recently, there’d never been any question that I’d stay that course.
For the time being, I’d found a part-time job renting out pleasure boats and fishing tackle down at the marina, and another as a cashier at the grocery store downtown. They weren’t glamorous, and I was way overqualified, but they were low-stress and gave me something to do while I caught my breath and figured out what came next. Fortunately, my apartment was cheap, my car was paid off, and I had plenty of money in savings, so the pay cut didn’t hurt as much as it could have.
Of course I was looking into other more permanent career paths, but so far, I had no idea what direction I wanted to take. I still had the GI Bill, so a master’s degree was a possibility once I figured out what to major in. I was considering a second bachelor’s to start with, just so I had some time to take a few random classes and see if anything piqued my interest.
For now, I wanted to get my feet under me. Maybe even resolve things with my parents. I’d tried to call them a few more times, but Dad still wasn’t ready to speak to me. Maybe he hoped the silent treatment would convince me to pull my head out of my ass and unresign. Or maybe he really was that pissed. Mom was a little cagey either way—she’d chat with me, but wouldn’t give me a straight answer about Dad’s state of mind.
Hopefully he’d be over it by Thanksgiving or something. If not, well, Will and I could spend it on our own or with friends, since his family wanted me at their table about as much as mine currently did.
It was weird to have so many things up in the air, and to have so much tension with my family. More than once, I’d questioned my decision. Twice, I’d debated rescinding my resignation, but both times, realized I was just scared of the unknown. I’d be all right. Scared beat miserable, after all.