The hands-free/GPS device in his truck beeped with an incoming text right as Bacon pulled into the paintball facility’s parking lot.
Miss you. Going to think about what I want to do to you the whole drive down tomorrow. Hoping things go well for you today. Love you.
After he parked, Bacon dictated a fast reply that he’d call with a report later, really wishing the robotic text-to-speak voice was that of Spencer. He missed him too. But Spencer was the one who was very free with the “miss you” and “love you” feelings lately. Ever since their parking-lot promise to give things a second chance, Spencer had been way more affectionate than Bacon, reaching out frequently, while Bacon was still trying to find his footing. He wished they’d been able to fall into bed for a week after making up—that might have helped.
But he’d had to get used to his new duties and prepare for Curly’s big day to boot. He’d told Curly and Rachel a few days ago that he was bringing Spencer, but he still needed to inform the team. It seemed only fair to not just spring it on them at the ceremony, risk spoiling things for Curly and Rachel. So, he was going to do it now. Today. Before the paintballs started flying.
He took a deep breath as he exited the truck and headed for the lobby where a number of the guys were already assembling in their paintball gear, talking about ammo and how they were going to divide the teams for the game.
Curly greeted him with a pound on the back as he leaned in. “I’ve got your six, Bake. Promise. You can count on me this time,” he whispered.
“Thanks.” He waited until Rooster, late as always, rolled in with Bullets, who was riding him about being tardy.
“So, uh...” He coughed but no one noticed or stopped their various conversations.
“Yo, doofuses! Bacon’s trying to speak.” Curly went up to level eleven in volume, which brought the room to a suffocating silence as all eyes turned toward him.
Now or never. “So... I’m bringing a date to the wedding.”
“Way to get laid.”
“Good for you.”
“Uh...why are you telling us?” Shiny asked. “Is she pregnant?”
Bullets promptly whopped him in the head. “You can’t ask that.”
“My date is a guy.”
“Oh, right on.” Rooster looked up from tying his boot to give Bacon an unexpected fist bump. “Mine too.”
“You too?” Bacon blinked, trying to follow.
“Oh, come on.” Rooster straightened and looked around the room. “How many times do I have to say equal opportunity before you guys get it? I welcome all attention, and when a cutie slides into my DMs, I’m not gonna get hung up on labels.”
“What the heck?” Bullets shook his head. “Man, first Lowe’s gay, now both of you are bi—”
“Pan for me, actually,” Bacon corrected.
“I’m just saying—”
“Think long and hard about what you’re saying next,” Curly warned him, wagging a finger. “I stood by and let Donaldson get away with his crap for far too long. I let the rest of you make bad jokes. I let down my best friend in the process, and it took almost dying for me to realize what a jackass I was being not speaking up. I’m not going to make that mistake again. So unless your next observation is hella helpful, you might want to put a sock in it.”
That stunned everyone back into silence for a long moment before there were several murmured apologies.
“Sorry, Bake.”
“We’ll do better, Rooster.”
“So, um, who’s the lucky guy?” Shiny asked when all that died down.
“Ah. Well, this is the tricky part, and really why I needed to talk to you. It’s Spencer. Spencer Bryant.”
“Man, were you guys fucking while he was embedded?” Rooster asked with more admiration than censure in his tone. “LT is gonna have your ass.”
“We got friendly while he was with us, but everything...else came after.”
“Damn. I hope y’all’s dicks have timestamps ’cause Naval PR is gonna want all up in y’all’s business.” Irving laughed. He came from the Florida panhandle and generally didn’t speak much unless it was a wisecrack like this that got everyone laughing.
“We’ll deal with any flack from PR. I just wanna make sure you guys are all cool with him.”
“Not sure how I feel about him spilling all our secrets.” Shiny made a face. “But if you say he’s cool...”
“He’s not going to spill secrets.” For the first time, Bacon was a little bit relieved about Spencer tabling the book project. It meant one less thing to have to try to explain today anyway. “He’s a reporter, but he’s not out to get anyone, I promise. And you can trust him to stay quiet about important stuff.”
He looked right at Rooster with that last bit, trying to convey that Spencer wouldn’t out him, not that Rooster seemed to have much issue with who knew what.
“Dude, I really don’t care if you’re banging the pope or whoever, but can we please get to playing?” Riddles asked, and a bunch of guys in the back nodded in unison.
Choosing captains, Curly gestured at Bacon and Rooster. “We gotta let the new chief flex his muscles. And maybe if we make Rooster captain, he won’t lag behind.”
Bacon’s chest went tight. He got what Curly was trying to do, and it was a nice gesture on his part, so Bacon picked him first, and Rooster picked Bullets in another nice gesture, and then they were done with niceness and on to the serious business of kicking ass. As it should be. And with that, a hundred-pound load lifted off Bacon. The team would survive this, maybe even come out stronger for it. Just like him and Spencer, hopefully.
* * *
Bacon straightened his new chief’s dinner dress uniform as he paced the parking lot of the large suburban church where the wedding was being held. Rachel’s family was all from the northern San Diego suburbs, and Curly joked that since her parents were paying, they could all handle the drive. The wedding day was perfect San Diego weather with clear blue skies and moderate temperatures, but apparently traffic was snarled on I-5, which meant Spencer was running late. Which meant no pre-wedding sex at his hotel like they’d planned. And it might mean no seeing Spencer until the reception, which would suck.
“Bacon?” The LT, also in dress uniform, strode over, his much taller, glamorous blonde wife on his arm. The few times Bacon had met the woman he’d marveled at the LT’s good fortune. The LT whispered something to her, and she continued on into the church on her own.
“Yes, sir?”
“Senior Chief told me you’re bringing Bryant today.” The LT looked him up and down like he was expecting to have to correct Bacon’s gig line or the polish on his shoes.
“Yes, sir.” Bacon had called the senior chief the same day he’d told Curly, told him he was planning on telling the team. After chiding him for not listening to his “stay out of trouble” lectures, the senior chief had said he’d handle the XO and the LT, which Bacon really appreciated. But he’d known he’d have to face a conversation like this one sooner rather than later.
“Naval PR is undoubtedly going to want a few words with you.” The LT shook his head, heavily gelled hair gleaming in the sunlight, as he sighed. “However, I’m prepared to tell them that nothing untoward happened during your assignment as Bryant’s liaison. That you comported yourself exactly how we’d expect. Senior Chief says your...friendship happened after, and I’m going to take both your words on that.”
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it more than I can say.” He really did. He’d been prepared for an argument with the LT, maybe even getting written up.
“I also hear you and Bianchi both had similar news to share yesterday. I hope you know that your personal lives are just that—yours. I know I run a tight team, but anyone gives you any guff about that, you can always come to me or the senior chief. We won’t tolerate any harassment.”
“Understood, sir. And I know Rooster—Bianchi—will appreciate that too. I’ll pass it on to him.” He’d seen Rooster earlier, and Rooster hadn’t been kidding about his date being a cutie.
“See that you do.” The LT turned to head into the church. “And, Chief, see that you stay out of trouble? We’re counting on you to be a good example, and our team needs more leadership like yours. I don’t say it often, but you’re one of the best the navy has.”
“Thank you, sir. Will do.” Bacon felt like his relief and pride might burst the seams of his jacket. And then he caught sight of Spencer near the church entrance and it was a wonder he wasn’t floating. Heart surging, he hurried over.
“You made it.”
“I did.” Spencer in a suit was enough to make it hard to breathe. The gray fabric looked expensive and was perfectly tailored to Spencer’s lean frame. He’d paired it with a light green tie and pocket square and looked incredibly dapper and polished. They didn’t kiss but they did look into each other’s eyes an extra-long time until finally Spencer squeezed his hand. “You better go do your best man thing, Chief.”
“Okay. You gonna dance with me afterward?”
“Absolutely.” There was so much promise and hope in his smile that Bacon had to struggle to let go of his hand. As hard as it was for him to open up and fully trust in a future together, he was so damn grateful for all Spencer’s patience. His optimism powered Bacon, brought him closer to the place where he too believed.
* * *
The newly married Rachel and Curly—whose real name was Karl and who had a lot of similarly burly male relatives populating the reception—had truly terrible taste in music. Like every cheesy wedding song imaginable terrible. The reception hall was a country club, and the event space reminded Spencer of the airplane hangar where Del had had his pinning ceremony, which probably wasn’t the ambiance the bride was going for, but all the yards of tulle did little to soften the exposed white beams of the high ceiling or the cavern-like qualities of the large room.
Still, cheesy music and bad acoustics aside, Spencer was happy to be there, happy to watch his guy accept congrats on making chief and for a toast well done. Del had said all the right things—he’d practiced on him on the phone last night and he’d managed to be smooth and charming in his delivery without being too rehearsed. He’d made all the military guys crack up with a funny story from training. And those same guys were all pretty decent to Spencer too. Hell, he would have settled for just not getting the evil eye from the guys he’d been embedded with.
A few had made a point of saying hello, like the senior chief and Rooster and Shiny, who was now dancing with the most earnest young woman Spencer had ever met. Spencer wished he was good at the whole surreptitiously videoing thing because they might just break the internet and become a meme.
“So far there hasn’t been a single song I wanna dance to,” Del observed as he came over bearing drinks.
“Shiny keeps stepping on feet that are neither his nor his date’s,” Spencer observed as he took a sip of his sparkling water. “It’s dangerous out there.”
“I should protect your feet then, take you away.”
“Yes, yes, you should.” Spencer smiled at him right as a very overdone slow jam came on.
“Okay. This one isn’t horrible.” Del plucked Spencer’s cup from his grasp and set both their drinks on a nearby table.
“Even the movie this was from is overwrought,” Spencer protested as Del led him on the dancefloor. “I should know. I had to review it.”
“Careful now. Your inner snob is showing,” Del teased. “We owned this one, and Mom and I would sing along to all our favorite songs. It’s a great love story.”
“So are we.” Spencer smiled at him, but his stomach trembled, hoping Del felt the same way—he’d been a little distant since their car conversation, as they felt their way back to a good place.
“Yup. I especially like this part where you’re letting me lead.” Del grinned at him.
“Don’t get used to it.”
“Oh I’m not, trust me.” Del raised his eyebrows, his meaning clear in a way that made Spencer’s skin prickle with anticipation. “I want a whole chapter in our story on your bossy ways.”
“That can be arranged.”
“Good.” Del tugged him closer. “I like dancing with you, though.”
“For someone who’s always going on about how tone-deaf you are, you’ve got great rhythm.”
“You’re still trying to butter me up so that I’ll show you some of my bad poetry.”
“Guilty.” Spencer laughed. Del had confessed to writing song lyrics and poems but hadn’t yet shared any.
“Okay, we’re done here.” Del joined his laughter as the song changed to an up-tempo Marvin Gaye number. Spencer happily followed him back to their drinks. “I need to make my goodbyes. Can I meet you at the hotel?”
“That sounds great.” Spencer tried not to sound too eager and failed miserably. Del leaned in for a fast kiss, which was notable not only for how it revved Spencer’s pulse, but it was their first public kiss, another good sign that they were really back together, that Del wanted this as much as he did.
That hope powered Spencer all the way to the nearby hotel he’d booked, and it wasn’t long after he’d checked in that Del knocked at the door. He’d evidently left his uniform jacket and tie in the truck, and even in his white dress shirt and navy pants, he looked stunning.
“You’re here.” He drew him into a tight embrace as the door closed.
“I missed you,” Del said with an intensity that said he wasn’t only talking about the drive.
In response, Spencer buried his face against Del’s neck. It felt weird and vulnerable, like he was opening up some hidden compartment of emotions, letting Del see how very much he needed him. But this was all he could do, inhale Del’s familiar scent, let it swarm his senses for long moments.
Something seemed to break in Del as well, something he’d been keeping in during the past week, as he released big shuddery breaths. “I missed you, Spence, so fucking much.”
“I know. Me too.”
“You hurt me.” His words were ragged, and he sounded on the verge of tears, which instantly got Spencer there too.
“I’m sorry. So sorry.” He kissed Del’s damp cheek. “I wish I could promise never to hurt you again, but I can’t. But never again like this. I promise.”
“You pushed me away.” Del gave another uneven sigh that broke Spencer’s heart. He hadn’t realized the full extent of how rejected Del would feel. And he should have.
Repeating his apology wouldn’t cut it, so he went straight for the truth, releasing a shaky breath of his own. “I was scared. Scared to believe in us that much, that quickly, scared to put us first. But that’s not going to happen again, promise. I realize now that life’s too short to not love fully. My priorities were all screwed up—love should always come first. And I do love you.”
“I know.” Del’s eyes were bright.
“And I don’t want to hurt you like that again, ever. But I’m new at this unconditional-love business and I might screw it up. I’m going to try my best, though. And try my best to make it up to you.”
“I was scared too,” Del whispered.
“And I let you down.” He kissed Del’s cheek again, wishing he had the right words to take his pain away. He, Spencer Bryant, was entirely out of words. He grabbed Del’s hand, bringing it to his mouth, kissing their intertwined fingers. Opening his grip, he kissed Del’s wrist, his palm, each of his precious fingers.
“That feels nice,” Del whispered.
“Yeah?” Spencer raised his head, met his mouth in a needy kiss that tried to convey both his love and his sorrow. What if he never fully convinced Del how loved he was? The thought made the already chilly room seem thirty degrees cooler, made his kiss that much more desperate. “Let me love you.”
“I will. I can forgive you.” Del kissed his forehead. “We were both scared. Not the best at compromise, yet. But I want that, want you to love me.”
“I do. So much.” Their mouths met again, all the need and want and love swirling around them. Eventually, somehow they stumbled to the bed, ended up wrapped up in each other. It wasn’t their usual urgent kissing that led quickly to sex. Instead, this seemed to be more about comfort, giving and taking. Needing skin, they peeled each other’s clothes off until they were both in boxers, huddled under the covers together, kissing and touching and murmuring apologies and promises every so often.
Eventually they’d get to the sex. But this felt so much more important, this reconnection, these precious moments together. He loved this man with everything he had, and he wasn’t going to stop trying to convince him of that, make him feel his love, make him know how cherished he was. He was Spencer’s whole world, and he wasn’t ever letting him go.