Chapter Twenty-One
Should I go out there?
Jesse rinsed the last plate and put it in the drainer before grabbing a dishrag and wiping down the counters and small table. As he hung the rag over the spigot to dry, he gazed out the window again at the dark figure silhouetted against the moonlit ocean.
Not sure if Trevor wanted to be alone or not, Jesse debated with himself for a moment longer before snagging the half-full bottle of red wine from next to the stove. He picked up his glass and left the cabin, scuffing his way through the sand toward where Trevor sat, knees drawn up, his own wineglass dangling from his fingers between them.
He glanced over as Jesse approached, and smiled when he saw what he carried. “How’d you know I needed a refill?”
Relieved that he’d made the right call, Jesse poured him some, then dropped down to sit next to him, burying the base of the bottle in the sand to keep it from tipping over. He put his fist to his mouth to cover a soft belch. “Damn, that was the best steak I’ve ever had. You really do know your marinades.”
Trevor’s lips quirked up. “Well, I’m a ‘grill boss,’ remember? At the party you were all so impressed by my simple burgers and brats.”
Jesse snorted. “We lived on chow hall food, or greasy takeout, Trev. Any home-cooked meal was gonna seem like heaven.” He took a swallow of wine. “But those were some damn good burgers. We talked about ’em all the time.”
“You did?”
“Yep. Especially in Afghanistan when the only thing we had to eat were MREs. At that point we all would’ve given our left nut for some decent food.” He shook his head. “I think Riley and I each gained fifteen pounds the two weeks we were here in Hawaii. Not kidding at all.”
“Yeah, it seems like all I’ve done here is eat.” Trevor held his glass up to the moonlight, squinting at it. “And this wine is delicious.” He sounded so surprised that Jesse couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped.
“You doubted my wine-choosing skills that much?” he teased, nudging Trevor with his shoulder.
Trevor nudged him back, swirling the dregs in his glass. “No. I’m just so used to everything tasting like sawdust anymore, it feels strange to actually enjoy eating. To enjoy anything, really.”
“Mmm.” Jesse drained the last of his wine and put his glass down next to the bottle before leaning back on his elbows. “I remember how that feels. When my mom died, it would piss me off to see people laughing, having fun, because it felt wrong for them to do that. Then after a while I learned to pretend that I was, too, because it was easier to fake it than have to explain stuff over and over.”
“I call that ‘wearing the face.’” Trevor finished his wine before mirroring Jesse’s pose, the unbuttoned denim shirt he wore falling open, revealing his smooth chest and flat stomach. “The one that says ‘I’m okay’ when I’m not. The one I use to fool people and get myself through the day.” He paused. “I love that I don’t have to wear it with you.”
“I’d never want you to feel like you have to.”
Trevor tilted his head back to stare up at the brilliant, star-lit sky. “When did it get better for you? I mean, to where you weren’t faking it anymore?”
“Well—” Jesse hesitated, casting his mind back. “I don’t think I can pinpoint an exact moment. For a long time she was the last thing I thought about before I went to sleep, and the first thing I thought about when I woke up. Eventually I realized that some mornings I wouldn’t think about her until nine a.m., and then later on maybe it’d be noon or so. There are some days I don’t think about her much at all, but every now and then I still cry.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, I know that doesn’t help much. I’ll always love her. Always miss her. I just try to live a life she’d be proud of, that’s all.”
Trevor dropped down to lie flat on his back, throwing his forearm over his eyes. “Riley would be devastated if he could see me now.”
“What? I’m sure that’s not true.”
“This pathetic wreck of a human being I’ve become? He’d be so fucking pissed off at me, it’s not even funny. I’ve given up my business, lost my relationship—”
“Because you’re grieving the death of your only son.” Jesse kept his voice gentle. “Trevor—”
“I’ve been sitting here thinking about that war memorial we saw,” Trevor interrupted. “The names of the fallen, how moving and meaningful it was. Riley died serving his country, like those men on the Arizona did. If I can honor their sacrifice, I need to find a way to honor his.” Trevor closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were glittering with tears. “I’m not honoring his life if I let his death destroy me.”
Jesse floundered, once again feeling unsure and out of his depth, wishing he knew what Trevor needed...
With a grunt Trevor sat up, then got to his feet. “C’mon, let’s walk for a bit.” He waited until Jesse stood, too, and they kicked through the sand to amble along the shoreline, the breeze ruffling their hair.
“Today on the back of that motorcycle,” Trevor said, “I felt so much exhilaration and awe of the beauty I was seeing. When we came around that curve, for a few brief moments, I felt alive.” He glanced over at Jesse. “It scared the shit out of me. I wasn’t faking it, Jess... I felt it.”
Jesse made a helpless gesture. “It’s okay to enjoy yourself on the back of a motorcycle, and it doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten about him, or you didn’t love him.” He winced, mentally kicking himself for his ineptness. “Jesus, I’m sorry. That sounded patronizing as hell.”
“Coming from someone else maybe, but not from you. Never. Carl said almost that same thing to me once, and I dismissed it as the worst sort of platitude. I guess I wasn’t ready to hear it.”
They reached a small outcropping of rock with a ledge that jutted out over the water. Trevor scrambled to the top, and after a moment’s hesitation, Jesse followed him. They climbed until they stood side by side, looking down at the furious ocean foaming and surging against the base of the rock, a fine mist spraying up into their faces.
“I had him for twenty years, Jess, and I’ll have to be without him for maybe twice that. I met this woman at Arlington whose son died in Vietnam. For forty years she’d been coming to his grave.” Trevor slumped, and Jesse slid his arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. “I barely got through one year. How am I supposed to get through forty?”
A shudder ran through him. Jesse searched desperately for something to say, but then Trevor stood up straight. “I’ll figure it out, because I owe him that. Moving forward with my life, and really living it, is the best way I know to honor his.”
Trevor put his hand in his pocket, withdrawing something that gave a clink. When he opened his palm, Jesse caught his breath. Riley’s dog tags. They glittered in the moonlight, and Jesse reached out to touch them with a trembling finger, memories assaulting him from all sides.
“Oh, Riles,” he whispered, his eyes burning.
“I said once that I’d ask you what happened to him when the time was right, but I’ve decided I don’t want to know. Riley was at war, and he died. The truth is it played out the way it played out, and now I have to live with it.” Trevor closed his fingers around the dog tags, pressing his fist to his mouth, sudden tears streaking his cheeks. “Just tell me that he wasn’t alone, Jess. Tell me that he didn’t die alone.”
“He wasn’t alone,” Jesse said firmly, and Trevor looked up at him, his gray eyes liquid with emotion. “I held his hand, and I told him if he needed to go, he should go. I told him you loved him and that you would be okay.” His voice broke on the last word, and Trevor made a small sound, moving closer to him.
“That night on the mountain I had to let go of the might-have-beens. Now I have to accept the things that can’t be changed, and do my best to make him proud of me.” Trevor kissed the dog tags, then drew his arm back and flung them with all his strength into the crashing surf, a glint of metal arcing briefly before disappearing forever.
“I love you, Riley James,” Trevor said, his voice faint but rock steady, and he leaned against Jesse, his body heavy and warm.
Jesse tightened his arm around him. “He’s already proud of you, Trev.”
* * *
They wandered back toward their cabin, hands stuffed in their pockets, shoulders touching. When they reached the wine bottle still stuck in the sand, Jesse leaned to pick it up.
“How about we finish this off?”
In answer Trevor sank to sitting, and he held out his glass. “Fill ’er up.”
They drank wine under the stars, and after a while Trevor grew drowsy. It seemed like too much effort to head for the cabin, so he curled up on his side in the cool sand, cheek pillowed on his hands. He drifted in and out, listening to the sound of the shushing waves, every now and then giving a little shiver as the sea breeze wafted over his skin.
When he woke from his next doze, he was deliciously, comfortably warm, because Jesse was spooned around him, his chest moving rhythmically against Trevor’s back as he slept. One of Jesse’s arms was crooked up under his head, and his other arm was draped loosely around Trevor’s waist.
Feeling safe and utterly relaxed, Trevor snuggled closer and went back to sleep.
The sky was a little lighter when he woke again, Jesse’s solid warmth still pressed up behind him. He gave a stretch, wincing as his muscles protested the hard ground they’d been subjected to.
“Hey.” Jesse’s voice was a husky rasp in Trevor’s ear, and the sound of it scratched along Trevor’s skin and thickened his cock. He shifted restlessly.
“Hey,” Trevor managed, aware of how hoarse he sounded, too. “How’d you sleep?”
“Here and there.”
“You could’ve woken me, made me go inside.”
“Nah. This was fine. More than fine. No!” Jesse tightened his arm around his waist when Trevor tried to move away. “I mean, uh, will you stay and watch the sunrise with me?”
Trevor bit his lip at how his body was reacting to Jesse’s proximity, and he gave a pleasurable shiver, settling back against him again with a sigh. Above them the sky lightened even more and took on a pink glow.
“God, that’s gorgeous,” Trevor murmured in awe. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Yeah. Beautiful.” Jesse swallowed hard, his voice sounding strange, so Trevor canted his head back to look at him.
What he saw in his eyes made Trevor catch his breath. There was shyness there, uncertainty, but it was tinged with an unmistakable heat that made every one of Trevor’s nerve endings blaze to life.
“Jess?” Trevor reached up to brush his fingers along Jesse’s cheek, tenderness surging when Jesse trembled against him.
Yes.
Trevor closed his eyes as Jesse’s warm lips covered his, this first kiss gentle, tentative, and almost unbearably sweet. It was over all too soon, and Trevor couldn’t help the needy little sound that escaped him when Jesse pulled back.
With an answering groan, Jesse lowered his head again, and this time his kiss wasn’t gentle. Before he knew it, Trevor was flat on his back, arms wrapped around Jesse’s neck, his world narrowed down to the scorching heat of Jesse’s mouth, the silky demands of his tongue.
Jesse dug his fingers into Trevor’s hip, gripping onto him. They rocked together, straining to get closer, when suddenly the sound of voices in the distance broke into the haze of arousal surrounding them.
“Someone’s coming,” Trevor gasped, pushing on Jesse’s shoulders, and with a curse Jesse lifted himself away to sitting, drawing his legs up to wrap his arms around them. Trevor sat up more slowly, and by the time the early morning beachcombers passed them, they were calm and more or less composed.
“Morning, folks!” the elderly man called out, raising his hand in greeting. Trevor waved back, but Jesse sat motionless, forehead resting on his knees. When the people had disappeared on down the beach, Trevor put his hand on Jesse’s back, feeling the tenseness of his muscles.
“Jesse—”
“I’m sorry, Trevor.”
“For what? Kissing me?” When Jesse nodded miserably, Trevor let out a husky chuckle. “I’m pretty sure I was a full, willing participant in that, and basically all I can think about right now is doing it again.”
Jesse lifted his head at that, the sunlight slanting across his face and making his blue eyes glow like jewels. “I, uh, I’ve been thinking about it for a long time,” he admitted, biting his lip.
Really? God, I’m oblivious.
“And here I thought I was the only one being ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?”
“Yeah. I mean, you’re young and gorgeous—”
“With the operative word being ‘young,’ right?” Jesse’s voice was quiet, his gaze steady. “What does my age have to do with anything?”
“Have to do with—are you kidding me?” Trevor exclaimed. “You’re only twenty-five! You have your whole life ahead of you, so many things just waiting for you to experience them.”
“Like what?”
Trevor sputtered. “I don’t know! Maybe living out and proud, being able to play the field, date lots of men.”
“So that’s what you were doing when you were twenty-five, then?”
“You know it’s not. When I was twenty-five, I had a kindergartner at home. I wasn’t your typical single gay man.”
“And I am?”
Trevor opened his mouth, then snapped it shut.
“I’ve gone to war, Trevor. I’ve killed people, and seen friends die.” Jesse’s face softened. “My best friend. I acted as the ears for my parents, until they died too and left me. Life experience? Sometimes I feel like I’ve lived an entire lifetime already.”
“Fair enough.” Trevor paused. “Okay, so maybe you’re not ridiculous. But I am.”
Jesse nudged him with his shoulder chidingly. “How so?”
“Because, well, I don’t have a whole lot left to give anyone.” After a moment’s hesitation, Trevor reached over and took Jesse’s hand, stroking his thumb over his wrist, feeling the faint grit of sand. “I’m not anywhere close to the man I used to be.”
Raising one eyebrow, Jesse said drily, “Since I didn’t really know the old Trevor, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t like me very much, that’s probably a good thing.”
Trevor snorted, acknowledging the truth in that statement. He dug his toes into the sand, still holding on to Jesse’s hand. “And, Jess, I don’t—I can’t lose anyone else,” he said haltingly, and Jesse gripped his fingers.
“I’m not a quitter. I’m not going to quit on you. No matter what happens, I’ll always be your friend.” Jesse leaned close. “But I’m not gonna lie. I’ve been dying to feel you against me.”
The suppressed need in his hoarse voice rasped along Trevor’s skin, making him shiver.
“If we chalk up what happened to emotion and too much wine, so be it. All I’m asking is for you to be honest with me about it. Treat me like an adult, not a kid.”
Trevor studied him for a moment. “Okay. This is me being honest. I enjoyed being in your arms last night, probably way more than I have a right to. I just need to be sure I’m not—well, that I’m not using you, Jess. It would kill me to hurt you.”
At that Jesse sat up straight, his lips firming. “Hey. I’m a big boy, and I’m pretty sure I can take care of myself. Been doing it for years.” He got to his feet and reached down to haul Trevor to his. “Ball’s in your court, Trev,” he said solemnly. “I think you know where I stand.”
Trevor nodded.
“I’m gonna shower, and then I promised you a motorcycle tour of the island, didn’t I?”
“You did.”
“I’ll meet you on the porch in thirty minutes.” Picking up the wine bottle and empty glasses, Jesse jogged toward the cabin. Trevor followed more slowly, not even trying to hold back his smile.