Wheels Up

by Annabeth Albert

“Don’t want... Fuck. Don’t want this to end.”

  “Trying,” Dustin chuckled, but his eyes were serious, getting what Wes really saying. “Me too.”

  “Can’t...can’t be the last time.” Something pulled loose in Wes’s chest, everything he had to give spilling free, truth and need babbling out.

  “It won’t.” Dustin’s voice was close to a cry, more prayer and affirmation than statement. “It won’t. You’ve got me.”

  “Don’t let go.”

  “I won’t.” Somehow, Dustin’s free hand grabbed his, tangling, pressing into the mattress, a tangible connection, every bit as powerful as the fuck. No, not fuck. Wes had been fucked before, and that wasn’t what this was. This was something else entirely, an emotional evisceration even as it rebuilt him, rearranging his every weakness and need, until there was only shared strength. Connection. Bond. Love.

  Neither of them said it, but the word hung there between them, potent and true. It was in their eyes, in their linked hands, in every thrust and stroke.

  “Fuck. Trying...” Dustin’s body shook.

  “Come on. Come,” Wes urged.

  “Want...”

  “Stop worrying about me. Come for me. Now,” Wes ordered. “I need it.”

  That last bit seemed to spark something in Dustin, and he moved faster, more urgently. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna...”

  “Yes. Yes. That,” Wes chanted. He needed this every ounce as much as Dustin, the need almost more than he could bear.

  “Fuck. I... Oh fuck...you.” Dustin’s fist tightened on Wes’s dick right as his cock pulsed, big body shuddering with his orgasm. Unconsciously, Wes thrust up into that grip, first spurt taking him entirely by surprise as his climax rocketed through him. He’d never experienced anything like this—roar in his ears, the heightened senses, everything crisp and clear like the world after a bomb blast. All he could do was shake, over and over, even after Dustin pulled out, and gathered him close.

  “Fuck. I came,” he said, stupidly.

  “Yeah, that was kinda the whole point,” Dustin laughed, so much affection in his words that it made Wes’s chest hurt anew.

  “Never happened before,” Wes admitted.

  “Never?” Dustin peered down at him. “Seriously?”

  “Nope. Figured I just wasn’t one of those guys who could get off from fucking. Don’t get me wrong—I like it, but I always got mine after.”

  “Well, I’m glad.” Dustin sounded so puffed up and proud that Wes had to laugh.

  “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  “Too late. Already gone.”

  And I’m already gone over you. Wes stroked his face. “You’re a loon.”

  “And you lo...” Dustin trailed off and looked away.

  “I do,” Wes said softly, words barely audible. “Not sure it makes a damn difference—”

  “It does.” Dustin kissed him fiercely. “Never think otherwise. This. Us. What we feel. It’s real. And I’m not running from that.”

  Was that what Wes was doing? Running? Since when are you a coward? He shook his head, trying to shake off the self-recrimination. Anything worth doing is worth doing right. No one said it would be easy. All the motivational posters he’d used to inspire his training in high school came back to haunt him.

  “Me either. Fuck if I know—”

  “We don’t have to know. Not yet. Just...stay a bit. Let us have this.” Dustin arranged them so that Wes was snuggled up against his side. Yup. World-class cuddler.

  “I can stay.” Never had Wes meant words more, and never had they had so much uncertainty behind them.

  * * *

  “I need to go.”

  Dustin squinted against the light, rolling over to the warm space where Wes had been moments earlier. At least he’d woken up this time, unlike when Wes had snuck out of the hotel. At least I get a goodbye.

  “I know,” he said because he wasn’t going to be the guy to beg, not when it wouldn’t make any difference, not when it could put Wes at risk.

  “Can’t believe you’re really leaving the team.” Wes sighed as he pulled on his jeans, them back where they’d started a few hours ago, Wes frustrated and him uncertain.

  “It’s the right call.” He believed that now, more than ever.

  “Yeah.” Wes sounded more resigned than anything else.

  “I’ll wait.” Dustin hadn’t said the words earlier, maybe because neither of them had been ready to hear them. But, now, with the minutes creeping away, he couldn’t hold them back. “I’m going to wait for you. However long. Until you get out. If you stay in. Until the statute of limitations on the fraternization runs out. Whatever it takes, I’m waiting. I’m in this and I’m not going anywhere unless you ask me to leave you alone, and then I can do that too. But I’ll still be waiting. Hoping.”

  “Not asking.” Still barefoot, Wes came to sit next to him on the bed. “I don’t want... I can’t imagine a life right now without you in it. But this isn’t going to be easy. For either of us. I mean, maybe you’d like a little freedom—”

  “Fuck that noise.” Dustin cupped Wes’s face in his hand, forced him to look at him. “No desire to get out there and play the field. When I say I’m willing to wait, I mean it. You’re it for me. The one thing I never thought I’d find, and hell if I’m letting you go.”

  “I don’t want to let you go either.” Wes’s eyes were big and liquid. “I...I’m not even sure when it happened. Maybe the first time you laughed at one of my stupid jokes. The first time we watched a show together instead of getting off. Maybe in DC. Or when you talked me down when I was so worried over Sam. I don’t even know. A zillion little moments. But...” Wes trailed off, like the words were simply too much for him.

  But Dustin knew. “Me too. Exactly that. Not sure when or how or why, but I love you. So much. And I know it’s not going to be an easy road forward for us, but I love you. I want this to work. So, yeah. I’ll wait for you. Happily.”

  “I love you.” Wes’s words had little more than air behind them. He ghosted a kiss across Dustin’s mouth. “And because I love you, I can’t tell you to put yourself at risk—”

  “You’re not telling. I’m doing. And I’m not saying we get crazy. We be careful. But eventually, the day will come when we can be together, openly. And I’m going to hold on to that. Wait for it.”

  “Openly.” Wes rolled the word around like he was testing it. “You mean that? That means—”

  “Coming out. I told Dylan and Apollo that I’m bisexual.” He shrugged, laughing at himself at how much of a non-issue it had turned out to be. “World didn’t end. I’d be proud to claim you. To be with you, really with you. Show you off to my family. Friends.” His stupid eyes smarted. Fuck. Emotions were hard.

  “I like that vision.” Wes smiled fondly. “My folks would love you too. Want you to meet Sam. Want...so much.”

  “Then we’ll get it,” Dustin said firmly, putting every ounce of his conviction into the words. “We’ll make it happen.”

  Wes waited a lifetime before answering, a lifetime where Dustin died a little, thinking maybe this wouldn’t be enough for Wes. Maybe he wouldn’t be enough. Maybe waiting—

  “We’ll make it.” Wes nodded. “I want to believe that—”

  “Then do it. Believe with me.” Dustin leaned in, kissing him softly before Wes could put conditions on his agreement. “Believe in us.”

  “I will.” This time when Wes nodded, his conviction reached his eyes, the same determination Dustin had seen on his face on every mission.

  They wouldn’t fail at this. This was one objective they would both meet, a no-win scenario they’d defeat by sheer force of will. They’d believe together, and it would be enough. Dustin felt it down to his bones. Sometimes a single yes, a simple promise was everyth
ing, a lifetime rewritten.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Seven months later

  “Hey wait up.” Curly caught up with Wes right as he was about to exit the barracks.

  Damn it. What now? Wes was in something of a hurry, and while he and Curly weren’t active enemies or anything, he still wasn’t exactly close to him. For reasons. Necessary reasons. “Yeah?”

  “You heading out?” Curly’s gaze swept down Wes’s body, taking in the fact that Wes was more dressed up than usual—nice gray pants, blue shirt with buttons. It was a big night, not that Curly needed to know that.

  “Yup.” Wes didn’t offer more explanation than that.

  “Oh. Thought you might want to game with Bacon and me. But, you have a...good time.” Curly’s expression wasn’t readable, which set Wes on edge.

  “Thanks.”

  “I saw you, you know?” Curly’s tone was almost absent, like an aside, not the nuclear bomb to Wes’s solar plexus that it actually was.

  “Oh?” He forced the word to come out level.

  “Coming out of the late movie last week.”

  Fuck. Fuckity. Fuck. They’d been so careful, only taking baby steps in the past month toward something other than rare, furtive meetings and late-night chats. The new sci-fi movie taking the country by storm was out though, and they’d decided to chance a midnight show out at the mall in the ’burbs. No PDA, just two guys who once knew each other enjoying a show. Nothing to see here, folks.

  “So?” He stared Curly down.

  “You looked...happy.” Curly’s face went soft and distant. “Really, truly happy. Don’t think I’ve ever seen that smile on you before. And... I just wanted to say, it’s a good look on you.”

  Wes wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say thank you, so he merely nodded. “And?” Because there had to be an “and,” some trouble coming. They’d been braced for this, for months now.

  “And nothing. That’s what I mean to say. I know I made some trouble for you before the lieutenant left, but that’s water under the bridge, right? I’m not going to say anything now. He’s out and you’re my guy, and you’re not gonna have hassle from me, okay?” Curly nodded earnestly.

  All the air left Wes’s lungs in a huge whoosh of relief. “Good to know.”

  “Heard you got approval for off-base housing.” Curly clapped him on the shoulder. “Good on you. I’ll miss gaming with you though. You’re always a better sport than Bacon.”

  “I’ll be around.” Wes gave a sharp nod, still dealing with the dregs of adrenaline racing through him. “Not going far.”

  He wasn’t moving in with Dustin—not yet, as they still had to play it safe, and cohabitating didn’t go along with pretending that they’d only recently struck up a friendship post-Dustin’s retirement. But being off base would give them more freedom as they felt their way forward. Wes had found a place with a pair of non-military roommates, neither of whom could give a flip what hours he kept. That would be nice.

  “Good. Don’t be a stranger.”

  “I won’t,” Wes said, surprised that he meant it. He had a path forward now, one that he was dearly looking forward to, but he also had to continue to work with Curly, and looking over his shoulder for the past few months had not been pleasant.

  Curly studied him for several long moments, considering. “You’re not re-upping, are you?” He shook his head sadly.

  Wes hadn’t told anyone else that he’d already started the paperwork to get out in a few months when his enlistment ended. But seeing as Curly was being cool about one secret, maybe he deserved the truth here too. “Nope. Gonna take Bacon’s advice, get me some of that private sector cash,” he said lightly. “And I need to be closer to my family.”

  “And it’ll make...things easier. Right?” Curly looked at him expectantly.

  Wes considered. Fuck. What if Curly was having him on, trying to get him to admit to something... “Not sure,” he hedged, hoping like heck he wasn’t braiding his own noose here.

  “I meant what I said. I’m not going to hassle you.” Curly gave him another sad look, the weight of the friendship they might have had between them. Collateral damage. Nothing about this past year had been easy. “Anyway, I won’t keep you. Have a...good night, man. Really. Mean that.”

  Wes hoped he did. Had to trust that he meant it. And fuck, but trust was in short supply, especially with the stakes so fucking high. However, his gut, the thing that kept him safe out in the field, the thing that could predict an explosion or fizzle, said Curly was on the level. One less worry.

  He walked away from the barracks, steps quicker now. He couldn’t be late. Despite it being over a year since he’d arrived in San Diego, he still needed his GPS to get to a central neighborhood, an unfamiliar house. Parking was tight, so he ended up down the street and around the block, which was probably for the best. Maybe the walk would settle him down.

  It’s just people, he reminded himself as he grabbed the bottle of wine he’d picked up at the chi-chi organic place, even as his pulse raced. Screw the encounter with Curly—this upcoming excursion was every bit as nerve-racking.

  “Well, fancy meeting you here.” Dustin jogged up right as Wes turned the corner back to the big house that might as well be a live explosive.

  “Idiot.” Wes grumbled, shoving his hands deep in his pocket to keep from hugging him. Later. Later, they’d have the privacy needed for an embrace. Later, they’d have the few stolen hours that Wes lived for these days.

  Like him, Dustin was dressed up in charcoal pants and white shirt that might have cost more than Wes’s last car repair, but Dustin generally was sharp these days, his wardrobe having undergone a serious overhaul since he’d been working with his friend Paul.

  “You sure you ready for this?” he asked Dustin as they walked up to the house. “I told you, you don’t have to—”

  “And I told you, it’s my birthday and I want you here. Parents. Dylan. Paul. I want this. Want you.”

  “Want you too,” Wes admitted, gazing up at his handsome man. Didn’t matter if it had been a secret for all these months, he was his, and knowing that never failed to thrill him.

  “And I did not shell out all that money in legal advice to spend my birthday alone.” Dustin gave him a hard stare. Before they’d gone to the late-night movie, before they’d started these baby steps toward something more public, they’d consulted a military defense attorney, who had assured them while the consequences were indeed real, since no one had been hurt, nothing damaged, no real harm for the navy to point to, the chances of them reactivating Dustin just to sanction him were very slim.

  And there was no real proof without a court order for their chat logs, which was hard to get without probable cause. As far as anyone of consequence would know, they’d started seeing each other socially only after Dustin got out. And with his own discharge looming, the risk dropped further. Not gone, but far less—the navy had far bigger fish to fry.

  “I don’t want you alone,” Wes said as they reached the door. “Don’t want either of us alone.”

  “And we won’t be. Not much longer.” Dustin’s unwavering optimism was the one thing that had sustained Wes through these interminable months. God, he loved this man.

  “Gonna hold you to that,” Wes said gruffly. “Now, come on. Show me to the firing squad.”

  * * *

  Dustin wasn’t allowed to be nervous. Wes was nervous enough for both of them, so he had to be the one to smile and laugh at Wes’s joke, even as his own insides were a bit wobbly. Oh, he wasn’t too nervous about the fraternization consequences—that would continue to hover over them, but no one in this house meant them any harm, of that he was sure.

  No, he was more nervous because of old worries. Stupid shit over who he was and who these people expected him to be—

&nb
sp; “You’re here!” Dylan flung open the door. “Happy Birthday, old man.”

  “Thanks, I think.” Dustin gave him a quick back-slapping hug.

  “Girls made the cake, so no comments on its lumpiness, okay?” Dylan turned to Wes, who while certainly not cowering, was hanging back a bit, getting a read on the chaos that was Dylan and Apollo’s house. Dustin didn’t blame him. “You Wes?”

  “Yeah.” Wes stuck out a hand. “Brought some wine.”

  “I like a guy who comes prepared,” Dylan took the bottle from him. “Apollo made a couple of giant lasagnas so this will go perfect. And I’ll let you get a glass before I start bugging you about why on earth you’re putting up with my brother.”

  “Eh. He does all right.” Wes gave him half a smile, still looking around the room. In the far corner of the living room, the twins and Paul’s kids were playing a noisy board game. The women—Paul’s wife and Dustin’s mom and step-mom—were sitting on the couches, chatting. Farther on, he could see Apollo and Paul talking in the kitchen while Apollo was doing something with a salad. Apollo’s mom bustled through with a stack of plates, and—

  “About time you got here.” And his dad was right in front of them. Dustin resisted the urge to gulp in a breath as there was another round of fast hugs.

  “This is Wes.” Dustin tugged him forward. “The guy I told you about.”

  “He brought wine,” Dylan added before his dad could reply.

  “You the reason he’s researching DC condos?” His father held out a hand, no real rancor in his voice.

  “Guilty.” Wes’s smile was still tight and narrow.

  “Hey, I’m the one with the DC idea,” Dustin protested, which was true. He wanted a fresh start for both of them, something that would be easier away from the fishbowl of San Diego and the possibility of rumors resurfacing. They’d stay on the super down-low here until Wes’s discharge, then head east where they could be incrementally more open. And Wes deserved to be closer to his folks and Sam, and the same coast would be nice for all of them. The security firm had a DC office, so a transfer wasn’t going to be hard at all.