Strong Signal (Cyberlove #1)

by Megan Erickson

  It was the mysterious G. I tried to figure out what time it was on his side of the world, but I was too impatient to crack open a world clock website to find out.

  Kai—

  I came to your chat to trashtalk you for the FWO kill. I understand you have a persona to uphold for your viewers, but I still don’t think it was cool for you to kill someone who genuinely belongs in the dungeon. If you want to get materials to craft new armor—go to the fucking auction house.

  But that’s beside the point. After a while, I guess I couldn’t help but notice that you are a skilled gamer. I also liked the fact that you play different types of games instead of just MMOs. And, not gonna lie, it’s intriguing to me that you have millions of views and limited harassment. Don’t get me wrong, you have some real pieces of work who deserve to get stomped out in an alley somewhere, but for the most part your chat is cleaner than most.

  How’d you do it? I usually avoid Twitch like the plague.

  —G

  It was difficult not to glow at the praise. It had taken nearly two years to get my chat free of assholes and mostly full of people who cared about gaming and hanging out rather than trolling.

  Hey G,

  Is that seriously all I’m getting? You’ve apparently seen a lot of me and I don’t even know your name :p

  Anyways. Honestly? It took a lot of work. And serious use of the ban hammer, and timing people out, and cherry picking my mods. It was really bad at first. My stream chat was a wall of spammed slurs and people telling me to suck a dick. Um, but yeah I fixed it. It’s why some of my diehard fans are so protective of me now, I think. They want it to be a safe space, which isn’t always realistic since it’s…people paying to stare at me, but we’ve come a long way.

  I think I get a lot of attention because I’m literally the only gay streamer to have a few thousand paid subscribers. A lot of people watch streams but very few actually subscribe for perks or donate. Buzzfeed and Advocate actually interviewed me about being a “gaymer.” I got a lot of game developers sending me games to beta after that, which brought in more viewers—it’s like they realized the gays were a whole community they weren’t marketing to. Ha. I hope it doesn’t seem like I’m bragging. I’m just happy to be an out-and-proud gamer. Usually this level of Twitch fame is saved for World of Warcraft dudebros.

  OK enough about me. Seriously, do you have a real name? I’ve been mentally calling you Hazzard G which sounds like a really dorky rapper name.

  Love,

  Kai

  Oh God. Why was I signing things with “love.” I had no idea how to interact with people anymore, so I defaulted to awkwardness. I did some more laundry, and glanced at my phone constantly until he replied. There was something about this entire conversation that was…heartening. A former hater, or wannabe hater as it was turning out, having true respect for my stream made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

  Kai—

  If I was the type of person to admit being impressed, I would probably say that I’m impressed. Thousands of subscribers, advertisement, donations, and your videos? You must be able to work entirely from home. Kind of jealous.

  But I still maintain that you should be careful about how much you tell these people. I’m not kidding when I say there are people out there with full-blown infatuations. What if you attract stalkers?

  Be careful, kid.

  —G

  Argh! Again with the “G.”

  I typed out a quick reply, smirking to myself as I did. Time to change the trajectory of this conversation.

  Hey G,

  Your concern is cute. Are you? You’ve seen me, so that seems a little unbalanced, huh? What do you look like?

  Kai

  Geez. I’d planned to flirt, but looking at it was kind of alarming. I was getting coy with a soldier overseas. He was probably off risking his life every day and I was hitting on him. I should be arrested. Or prevented from speaking to people. I wondered if I’d spoiled our friendly back-and-forth. Maybe he’d tell all his soldier friends about the fag who’d hit on him. Ooooh, maybe he’d tell them in the communal showers. While wet and soapy.

  I hit send before I deleted the whole thing. No backing out now. Either he’d run for the hills or write me back. I was sure it’d be the former.

  With the communal shower fantasy playing out in my mind, I made some oatmeal and returned to my desk with the bowl. While catching up with celebrity gossip (my vice), I received a new message from G.

  Holy shit.

  There was a picture attached. One. And I nearly spilled my oatmeal all over my lap, because Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker, the guy was smoking hot. The picture was clearly a candid shot. He sat sprawled on a cot, wearing nothing but camo pants—the light beige ones—boots and dog tags. My mouth went dry, and I set my bowl down before I dropped it, leaning forward to get a better look. He had aviator sunglasses on so I couldn’t see his eyes, but he had thick, messy brown hair shot through with sun-bleached gold.

  And muscles. Like, lots of muscles.

  I whimpered. If this was a joke, and he’d sent me a fake pic, swear to God, I’d fly to wherever the fuck he was and smother him with a pillow. It wasn’t nice to tease a guy who hadn’t been laid in two years.

  This time he signed his name—Garrett.

  Even his name was hot.

  I rubbed my sweaty palms up and down my thighs. He could have been trolling me. This could be some random picture he’d found online. But there was something so authentic coming through. God, was I crazy? Was I losing my touch? I was always so cautious about who I trusted.

  I regarded the picture for another moment and pressed reply.

  You’re a tease, sending a lonely gay guy a picture of your hot straight ass in the desert. How do I know that’s you?

  -Kai

  My finger paused above the send button, then I said screw it and hit it. Immediately after, I pushed away from my desk with the intentions of working out. I needed to burn off this energy and not sit around waiting for his reply. I wasn’t desperate, even if my first thought after seeing that picture was how fast I’d climb in his lap or get on my knees for all that camo and muscle.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Garrett

  This had definitely not been part of my plan. My email to Kai was supposed to have been nothing more than a heads up, but it had turned into more and I’d fired off the in-game message before I could come to my senses.

  Stupid. So stupid. And yet I’d followed it up by writing a bunch of heartfelt crap. The worst part was, I wouldn’t have even answered my own email. It was ridiculous and amounted to not more than “I was creeping on you and got creeped out to see that other people are doing the same!” No. But I’d fired that off too.

  Now, it was on. We had back-and-forth exchanges going. He was flirting with me, which was a little weird, but I had a feeling this kid was used to playing “scare the hetero.” As if. I played that game in real time on the base whenever I held on a little too long after a straight dude finished getting me off. Even so, I took a little while to respond to his message.

  How could I prove the picture was of me? And why did I want to prove it? I’d meant to warn him, not convince him I was attractive. Even so, there was no way to back down once my word was on the line. Proof was needed to defend my honor.

  With the corner of my lower lip stuck between my teeth, I flipped through the saved pictures on my laptop. The only one with “proof” had me holding my dog tag in front of my left eye. Kai was adorable, but adorable didn’t open doors leading to my social security number, so that was a big no. The only option was to take a picture of myself with the camera on my laptop.

  Feeling like an idiot, I set the camera up, scrawled out a little sign that said “proof of Garrettness” and held it beside my unimpressed face. It wasn’t the best picture given my slightly overgrown beard and irritated expression, but shaving frequently required a better razor than I had.

  I started to send the picture but pau
sed and took another. This one with a sign that read “the guy who will kick Samwise’s ass one day.” In that one, I smirked at him.

  Attaching both images to the reply email, I typed:

  Who says I’m straight?

  —Garrett

  PS: Now we’re somewhat even.

  This time, it took longer for him to reply.

  What if he thought I looked like some military psycho? Or worse—a hipster, thanks to this beard? What if he didn’t find me attractive? Who knew what his type was? He was so damn gorgeous he could probably have anyone he wanted. He probably had anyone he wanted, if he was as well-known as he claimed. He was probably a local gay celebrity.

  Fuck. I was obsessing again. Why did I even care about that? This shit was getting ridiculous.

  Two strong taps at my door ripped me out of my random bout of insecurity, and I pushed away from my desk. Simultaneously thankful for the distraction and annoyed by the unexpected visitor, I pushed open the door. Costigan stood there like a wet dream—drenched in sweat from either working out or a game of basketball, with his shorts dipping down so low the V of his torso was put on display. Every day I wondered if this guy was only temporarily into dick, because straight guys didn’t usually try to put on a show for me.

  “What’s good, Reid?”

  “Not much.” I looked behind him. “Anything up?”

  “Nah.” Costigan raised his arm in a stretch and arched his back. Without his Aviators on, I could see his eyes wandering my body. “You busy?”

  “Kind of.”

  Costigan stepped into my tent. “I was playing ball with Ramirez and he asked me about you.”

  “Yeah?” Potentially not good. Ramirez had been my tour-homo during my first deployment, and we hadn’t rekindled that experience this time around. “Should I care?”

  “You might.” Costigan got all up in my space. A smirk curled the corner of his mouth. “Apparently the asshole followed us one night and caught an eyeful. He came right out and asked if you was letting me hit it. Told me you were real quick to swap dicks once you had a white boy interested in your ass.”

  I blanched. “What the fuck? That’s bullshit. He hasn’t spoken two words to me since we got here. I figured he was straight and embarrassed about what had gone down, and I’m not desperate enough to press the issue.”

  “I feel you. Was just repeating his words, man.” Costigan didn’t step back even though his sweaty chest was practically grazing mine. “So, you ain’t straight, huh?”

  Oh great.

  “Would that really be a problem for you considering how many times you’ve had your hand on my cock?”

  “Nope. I’m just wondering why Ramirez got to turn you out and I only get to jerk you off.”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. He probably thought his leering and talking about nailing me was going to be some big turn-on, but my irritation couldn’t have burned any hotter. Why the hell were they sitting around talking about me like I was going to be their base-bitch? Next thing I knew they’d be planning to come in here overnight and take turns banging me. No thanks. They could save the soldier porn for the Internet.

  I started to say just that, but then…I wondered if I really wanted to blow my shot to get laid for real. With the majority of my deployment left in this shithole, desperate times may call for desperate measures.

  The ding of a new email jerked me out of the brief foray into seriously considering bending over for Costigan.

  “I prefer to top,” I said flatly. “But Ramirez was too skittish to let me fuck him. I’m assuming you’re the same.”

  “Yeah because that’s gay as hell.”

  “Right.” I shouldered past him and held the door open. “My sister’s about to call me on Skype. Dismiss yourself from my space.”

  Costigan snorted. “Yeah, yeah. You’ll come around.”

  “Unlikely.”

  I closed the door behind him and tried not to be pissed off, but I was. What was it with straight guys always thinking they were irresistible to gays? Costigan’s dudebro bullshit wouldn’t be charming even if he was a gold star homo on or off the base. The streak of defensive anger swelled inside me as I thought about the potential bullshit I’d just gotten myself into with that conversation and subsequent blow-off. Coming out and then lashing out was like a double whammy of bad idea. Hopefully he kept his mouth shut.

  “Fuck.”

  The chair squeaked against the floor when I plopped down. I clicked on Kai’s email with one tap of my finger.

  Garrett,

  The potential of a scorching hot gay soldier watching my Twitch stream while deployed and hard-up is movie material. If it looks like a troll and smells like a troll….

  —Kai

  We’d already ruled out catfishing and now he thought I was pretending to be queer? Who would even bother?

  My fingers flew over the keyboard, clacking loudly, as I speed-typed a rant.

  Kai,

  What purpose would it serve for me to lie about being gay? If I were straight, I’d be watching any number of big-tittied female gamers on Twitch like all of the other d-bags. Besides, it’s not like I came to this shit website for the sole purpose of scoping out hot dudes. I came to gather intel so I can whoop your ass in FWO. You just happened to be charming and gorgeous.

  And FYI I’m not that hard-up. There’s plenty of actual straight guys on the base who are willing to put their dicks in my mouth when they get desperate. And apparently I’ve developed myself a rep for it, so I’m expecting this tour to get FUBAR any minute now. If I don’t reply it’s because some asshole bashed me.

  I sent the email, winced, and immediately sent another.

  Sorry, Kai. I’m in a bad mood because of something that just happened. I didn’t mean to rant at you. Watching you on Twitch has actually been one of my daily highlights. Shit, I’ve even quit going on FWO as much so I can catch you when you’re live. It’s also nice to talk to someone who’s fam. I’ve never been cool with another gay dude before. Everyone back home is closeted.

  Maybe that’s why I got overprotective about how you put yourself out there. I’m not used to it. Or maybe I’m just a nosy jerk. Either way, feel free to tell me to piss off. I appreciate you replying to me at all.

  —Garrett

  He probably thought I was a freak. Hell, I knew I was acting like a freak. If Kai had been in my face, or even on the phone, there was no way I would have unloaded and said all those things. But things were different via email. The words just came out.

  I just hoped I’d typed the right ones.

  * * *

  Kai

  Well, shit. Now I cared.

  I fucking cared.

  Garrett’s emails were too full of emotion, and too raw, to be faked. Sure, I’d been skeptical, but what straight guy talked like that to a gay guy who was hitting on him? None. And he was hot as hell. He was bearded. And smirked with full lips I wanted to bite between my teeth until he moaned.

  Picturing Garrett pissed off and alone, sitting on a lumpy cot in Bumfuck Iraq or wherever. Where did the government even send these guys anymore? I had no idea. All I knew was from watching the uninformative American news and that movie with Jeremy Renner. Whatever the case was, Garrett was upset and, after all of the nice things he’d said, I sort of…wanted him to not be upset.

  The little green circle next to his name on Gmail was lit. He was online. I could send him a message in Gchat. My stomach flopped.

  Real-time messaging was…something I couldn’t control. One of the reasons online was home to me—and the world outside my apartment wasn’t—was because I could control my interactions online. I could determine what everyone saw of me.

  But Garrett’s words tugged at my heart. What if I was the only person he had to talk to? It was a slightly egotistical thought, but if he had a ton of other people lining up to hear him out, he wouldn’t be spilling to me in an email, would he?

  And no one besides Shawn had ever confided in me. Even b
efore I’d withdrawn from the world, no one had ever talked to me about anything besides gaming or dancing.

  I stared at the picture of his scowl, then of his smirk. He was fuckable in both. Dammit.

  I opened up Gchat. What the hell did I say? I didn’t even know this guy.

  Shit, I was sweating. This was ridiculous. But I was determined to be there for him. There was a connection now, a tentative one, but strong enough to keep my fingers on the keyboard and my focus on the man half a world away.

  Kai: Why are you in a bad mood?

  No going back now.

  I stared at the green dot next to his name. Part of me wanted it to turn gray but the other part of me—the larger part—wanted him to reply.

  A minute went by. Two.

  His light stayed green. Then little bouncing dots showed beside his name. He was typing. My speakers emitted a ping once he sent a message.

  Garrett: I don’t think I want to spend the first time we talk bitching about my bad mood.

  Garrett: I’m surprised you’re messaging me.

  Kai: Uh, trust me, so am I. I guess there’s a first time for everything.

  Garrett: You don’t ever chat with anyone from Twitch?

  Kai: That would be a no. The only time I send a private message is on FWO and it’s, like, game related. You know? So this is…not my normal.

  Garrett: Maybe I’m just special.

  Kai: And stupidly hot.

  Garrett: Superficial.

  Kai: No! Well, maybe a little, but I also liked the stuff you said in your emails about my stream. It was nice. I swore you were just another trolly dudebro. It matters to me that someone like you…thinks my stream is awesome. It wasn’t what I expected.

  Garrett: I’m full of surprises.

  Kai: Um. Yah. Those were some guns in your pic, and I’m not talking about weapons.

  Garrett: Wow. You are something else.