“Ha.” Dylan snorted. “We didn’t want you feeling uncomfortable.”
“And I’m too old for a bar crawl,” Apollo added, wrapping his arms around Dylan. The two of them were so in love it almost hurt to look at them.
Didn’t want you feeling uncomfortable. This, like dozens of other chances over the years, would be the perfect moment to just casually put it out there that male strippers weren’t a turn-off for him, but Dustin’s lips refused to work. Besides, he would be not the most comfortable at the Hillcrest gay bars, for a whole host of reasons that he refused to take out and examine right then.
“Yeah. Wouldn’t want to fend the dancers off you all night.” Isaiah, who had been Dylan’s roommate for a short time, gave him a speculative look. He was an attractive guy, one Dustin had once been guilty of looking a little too long at, and who always seemed to see far more than Dustin wanted him to.
“This is more fun.” Maddox came over to the table, his boyfriend, Ben in tow. God, when had everyone in Dustin’s social circle gone and coupled up? “We got more quarters.”
Maddox set a little bucket of coins in the center of the table. The arcade-and-cocktail bar had an airplane-hanger vibe, with high, open ceilings, and long rows of games. They’d grabbed the tables in the center of the room for their group, which was pretty damn big—Apollo’s friends from the base, Dylan’s work friends and friends from the rec league soccer team he was on. It was only a taste of how crowded the wedding would be in a few weeks.
Dustin wasn’t sure when he’d gone from the guy who could make any gathering a party to the guy who really just wanted this over with, the guy who always managed to feel like the third wheel now that everyone other than him seemed to have a long-term partner of some kind. And the guy who felt more at home with his online chat-buddy than with guys he’d known for years. His very off-limits chat buddy. A few of Apollo’s friends might be enlisted men, but they weren’t under Apollo or Dustin’s direct command—no way would the top brass look the other way at his friendship with Wes.
And on that cheery note, he grabbed a few quarters and slipped away from the group to an X-Men pinball table.
“Too loud for you?” Fuck. Isaiah had followed him over.
“A bit, yeah,” he admitted. Isaiah had a full mouth, one that reminded him too much of Wes’s, and he tried to find a spot for his gaze that wasn’t Isaiah’s cute face.
“I’m not doing anything after this.” Leaning in, Isaiah made Dustin grip the edge of the pinball table to avoid the urge to step back.
“Me either.” Dustin didn’t realize what he’d stepped in until the words were already out.
“Excellent. What do you say you come over? Have a drink?” The kid—and he was a kid, maybe twenty-two if that—oozed confidence.
“I...uh...” This wasn’t the first time that one of Apollo or Dylan’s friends had hit on him over the years, and like always, he wasn’t quite sure what to say. He was always so much more suave about this in his head. “Should probably head home,” he finished lamely.
“I know I’ve got a bit of a party boy rep with Dylan and your friends, but I can keep my mouth shut. It would just be a drink between new friends. That’s all.” Isaiah’s voice was low and reassuring and did exactly nothing to soothe Dustin’s jangled nerves.
“I’ve got an early morning tomorrow.” He wasn’t lying—they had a full day of training ahead of them, and his pre-dawn meeting with the LT would come sooner than he wanted.
“Darn.” Isaiah looked him up and down, knowing gaze saying that he had Dustin’s number, before he wandered away. And really, if Dustin was smart, he’d take Isaiah up on the offer of a discreet hookup, try to get Wes out of his system, see if maybe he’d react the same to any confident, aggressive man. But he really had no desire to test those waters. He wanted Wes. Finally giving in to his urges, he pulled out his phone.
As he’d hoped there was a new message. Back at the barracks. I could sleep for a week. Leaving was hard.
Strangely, Dustin’s pulse slowed down, and he felt calmer than he had all night. I bet, he typed. You should rest. Wish I could. I’m out at my brother’s bachelor party, wishing I could escape. He didn’t add the part his fingers itched to include—that he wished Wes were here, giving him a buffer.
Don’t go home with any strippers ;) And no hangovers for tomorrow, Wes replied.
Dustin smiled to himself. Ha. No strippers. Just video games.
“What’s so funny?” Dylan came over. “Man, you’ve been acting weird lately. You okay?”
“Fine.” Dustin pocketed the phone. “Haven’t really been in a socializing mood, that’s all.”
“Are you mad that I’m marrying Apollo?” Dylan studied him carefully. “You know he’ll always be your best friend too.”
“What? Mad? Me? No.” Dustin blustered. More like jealous. Jealous that you guys found each other and get to be together. But he wasn’t going to admit that. “I’m happy for you guys. Really.”
“And you’re sure that you’re not bringing a date to the wedding? I’ve got friends—”
“I don’t need matchmaking,” Dustin said, sharper than he needed to. “Sorry. Just been busy lately. I’ll have a good time, promise.”
Too bad the only person he wanted to bring to the wedding was the last person he could. Even if Wes wasn’t his subordinate, he tried to imagine a universe where he entered the reception with a guy on his arm... Sweat trickled down his back as he pictured his dad’s reaction. His friends. Nope. Not happening. Even as he acknowledged that, a strange wistfulness settled over him. He bet Wes was a great dancer, all Southern charm and easy grace. All that discomfort might be worth it to hold him in his arms...
“There you go looking like you’re a million miles away again.” Dylan shook his head. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
“Yeah,” Dustin said thickly. “Listen. I’ve got an early morning tomorrow. Think I could duck out early?”
“Of course.” Dylan’s eyes still flashed with concern even as he nodded. Fuck. The last thing Dustin needed was Dylan worried when he should be focused on his wedding.
“And I’m fine,” Dustin added, trying to sound more convincing. “No worries.”
His body didn’t believe him though, even if Dylan seemed to, jumbled thoughts and jumpy nerves carrying him back to his condo, where the first thing he did was pull out his phone.
Home. God, save me from happily coupled people. He sent the message before he could think the better of it.
I know what you mean. My parents kept bugging me about dating while I was home. Matchmaking people are the worst. Wes added some funny emoji stickers at the end of the message.
He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. But his finger hit call before he could find his missing willpower.
“Hey.” A sleepy-looking Wes showed up on his screen, shirtless and leaning back against the pillows on his bed.
“Fuck. Did I wake you up?”
“Hardly. Still sleeping for shit, and now my time zones are all messed up. I was just watching a documentary about polar bears.”
“Is it wrong that that sounds better than navigating the bachelor party BS? I don’t know why I suddenly find my friends so exhausting, but I do.”
“I’ve been there.” Wes stretched, muscles in his shoulders rippling. “Back at Little Creek, when all my buddies went from single to married and starting to have kids and stuff. It’s hard being the odd guy out. And they all want to match-make too. Like it’s not enough that they found someone. They want you to be equally coupled up.”
“Yeah. Exactly.” Dustin exhaled for what felt like the first time all evening. He carried the phone to his bedroom, kicking off his shoes as he went. God, the urge to invite Wes over was so strong. “And to make matters worse, a friend of Dylan’s hit on me. I never
“A guy friend?” Wes’s head tilted to the side. “Is this where I’m supposed to tell you to go for it, get yourself some more experience?”
“No, God, no.” Dustin laughed as he stretched out on the bed, wishing more than anything that Wes was right here beside him. The last thing he needed was Wes pushing him toward some other guy, not when he wanted Wes so damn badly.
“Good.” Wes’s smile was more than a little sad. “Not sure I could do that.”
“I don’t want you to.” Dustin’s fist tightened. “Any more than I want to bring a date to the wedding. God.”
“Can I ask something?” Wes shifted around, making Dustin wish he could be Wes’s pillow, could hold him close as they talked. “What would happen if you brought a guy?”
“I can’t...” Dustin’s throat squeezed around his deepest desire.
“Relax. I’m not angling for an invite.” Wes yawned. “I just mean...your brother is gay, right? And your whole family is coming to the wedding? Would it really be that huge a deal if people knew you were bisexual?”
“Yeah, it would.” Dustin’s throat squished shut. “Years ago, after that time I figured out that guys did it for me, I was thinking how to tell my parents. Felt like someone should know, you know? Like this secret that was eating at me.”
“I’ve been there.” Wes’s voice was warm, no judgment. “What happened?”
“Later, I’m still figuring out the right words and my then-fifteen year old brother comes out, bold as can be. No fear from him. And the whole family rallies around him...” Dustin sighed.
“There’s room for you to both be LGBTQ, you know that, right?”
“I know that, intellectually. But after Dylan came out, my dad pulls me aside, says he’s so glad one of us will still give him grandkids, carry on the name. And I just couldn’t get the words out after that. It felt like I’d be letting him down. Feels like everyone expects something different from me than what I am.”
“I don’t. You can be yourself with me. And I think your friends and family could adjust. Adapt their vision of you.”
Warmth spread up Dustin’s chest. He’d never felt fake with Wes, never felt like he had to be anything other than his truest self. And Wes’s quiet, unwavering support was more than a little addictive. He needed more space like the one Wes provided in his life. “I’ve come close to telling Apollo a number of times over the years, but it’s like the longer I wait, the more awkward it will be. The few times I’ve tested the waters, said that a guy was cute or something, he just laughs like I made some big joke. And I don’t want him mad that I never told him back when he was going through hell with don’t-ask-don’t-tell.”
“If he’s really your best friend, he’ll get that your journey is your own, and that you needed your own timetable. And your family would deal. They love you, every bit as much as your brother, I bet.”
“Yeah, but I’m the oldest.” He didn’t know why that mattered, but it did. More expectations weighing him down, somehow.
“Oh, I know that feeling. Being the oldest sucks.” Wes’s tone was full of understanding. “You feel like you have to hold it together for the whole family. But, man, you can’t do that if it’s eating you up, living a lie.”
Living a lie. Was that what he was doing? “You’re not out,” he accused, frustration making his voice harsh.
“Actually, I told Curly that his girl can lay off the matchmaking. Think he put two and two together. And I’m cool with that.” Wes’s tone was defensive, and he thumped his head back against the pillows. “I’ve never felt the need to give a big speech to my whole team—I hate attention being focused on me. But I’ve never made an effort to hide who I am. And if I was in a relationship, I would be open about that. It’s more that, being single, it’s not that big of an issue, and at Little Creek, with that particular team dynamic, I just...let it ride.” Wes scrubbed at his hair. “And okay, yeah, maybe I should just tell everyone and be done with it—take my own advice. But I totally hate the all-eyes-on-me thing.”
“So you get it.” A lot of Dustin’s ire fled. “I just don’t want to be a thing. Don’t want people treating me differently.”
“It’s more about how you treat you. And I think the difference here is that I don’t beat myself up for being gay. Or liking kink. You spend a lot of time beating yourself up, and I hate that. You’re too good a guy for that.”
Dustin’s eyes burned. He wanted to be that guy for Wes, wanted to be braver, not give a fuck what people thought. “Yeah.” Hating the emotions swamping him, he cleared his throat. “You know what really sucks? Dylan’s giving them two ready-made grandkids, and I still feel this stupid pressure.”
“Maybe the pressure’s not coming from them?” Wes’s question was as gentle and warm as a towel fresh from the dryer, and Dustin wanted to wrap himself in it, ignore the reality of what Wes was saying, which was all true. No one was harder on Dustin than himself, but he just didn’t know how to stop.
“Maybe.” Dustin groaned. Why wasn’t Wes here where he could bury his face in Wes’s neck, breathe in his scent? “God, I hate this phone.”
“Wanna ditch it?” Wes’s eyebrows went up. “It’s late, but—”
“We can’t.”
“I know.” Wes slumped back down against his pillows. “Probably shouldn’t be calling.”
“Probably.” Dustin rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Definitely shouldn’t tell you the kinky dream I had last night.” Wes’s grin was downright wicked, and plenty welcome after the heavy talk about his family and coming out.
“You shouldn’t,” Dustin agreed, but there was no real force behind the words.
“Really shouldn’t tell you to take off your shirt if you want me to tell you.”
I’m already screwed. Dustin set the phone down long enough to pull off his shirt. “There. Not sure why I have to be shirtless for you to talk though.”
“One, I appreciate the view.” Wes winked at the camera. “Two, in the dream, I was torturing your nipples. Had you all tied up. Love how sensitive you are there.”
“Oh fuck yeah.” Dustin’s cock went from mildly interested to rock hard in five seconds flat, straining against his fly. He might beat himself up about liking pain and being restrained, but he couldn’t deny how his body responded to the slightest suggestion.
“Can you pinch one for me? Nice and hard. You do it good enough, and I’ll tell you the rest.”
Dustin did it, tweaking his nipple hard enough to gasp. It wasn’t the same as when Wes’s talented fingers were on him, but it was still a rush of pain and sensation. “Tell me.”
“You tied to the bed, clamps on your nipples. Me eating your ass until you were moaning for me to fuck you. Woke up rock hard at that point. I had to rub one out quickly before leaving for the airport. Damn you.” Wes’s laugh was at odds with his red-hot imagery.
“I never... That is, it’s never come up...”
“Never been rimmed?” Wes’s voice was seductive and soft. “I can make you love it. Same as fucking. You’ll go nuts for it.”
Of that, Dustin had little doubt. His hand left his nipple, going to his zipper. Snick. The sound echoed through his empty room as he drew his cock out.
“Did I say you could touch your cock?” Wes raised his eyebrows, expression going harsh and commanding and making Dustin’s dick pulse.
“Please,” he whispered.
“Pinch yourself again first. Let me hear it.”
Dustin twisted his nipple, pulling it enough to burn. “Fuck. Hurts.”
“I know. And you love telling me, don’t you?” Wes’s laugh was full of sin.
“Yes.” Dustin panted as he continued to pluck at his nipple. “God, it hurts. Want you to make it hurt more.”
“Oh I will,” Wes said darkly. “You need it tonight, don’t you? We both do.”
“Yes, need you.” The burn from his nipple spread over his chest, snaked down to his dick, every bit as enticing as a hand on him. “Hurts. Wish it was you.”
“Me fucking too. I’d torture you so good right now. Make you wait to come.”
“Yes. Please let me touch my cock,” he begged. “I won’t come. Not yet.”
“Not till I say so.” Wes moved the phone, giving Dustin a familiar view of his abs and hard cock. “But me? I get to touch right now.” Wes’s fist came down, started stroking his cock. “Keep twisting that nipple, baby. Make it sting.”
“You gonna come?” Dustin’s breath came in little huffs as he complied.
“I should, shouldn’t I? Get off first before I let you come.” Wes’s hand sped up.
“Yeah. Do it.” Dustin liked the novelty of that—Wes almost always waited until after Dustin came, his own orgasm almost like an afterthought once he was done teasing Dustin. Which was intoxicating, being the focus of his attention like that, but it was also breathtaking to watch Wes give in to his pleasure for once.
“Talk to me. Tell me what you want me to do to you, right now.”
“Bite me. Hard.” Dustin had entire fantasies that revolved around little more than the sensation of Wes’s teeth grazing his skin.
“Yeah? You want me to leave a mark? I’d like that. Leave a whole trail of them down your back. Every time you looked in the mirror, you’d know you were mine.”
“Fuck yes.” It was entirely possible that Dustin was going to come from little more than nipple stimulation and Wes’s filthy words. And, God, he wanted that, wanted to be marked, wanted to be Wes’s in the worst way.
“I’d like to bite you while fucking you.” Wes’s hand became a blur on the screen. “You up for that?”
“Can I touch myself?” A whine escaped Dustin’s throat. He wanted to finger himself, pretend it was Wes’s practiced touch and not his own fumblings.
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