They spent the entire night in Kurt’s room. Kurt couldn’t be sure he hadn’t died on that wretched plane after all. He’d died, gone to heaven through a glitch in St. Peter’s accounting system, and while nothing was the way he would have expected it to be, he was finding paradise suited him very well indeed.

He wouldn’t have expected Van Heel to be the guy who showed up in his heaven, but why not? Van Heel had been the only partner to ask about him, if he was okay with the kind of life he was living. He might as well be the companion Kurt’s brain conjured up.

He knew he was dead because the sex had been incredible, and like nothing he’d ever done before. Van Heel—Dom—had been so incredibly gentle, and so tender with him, he had to be an angel or a doppelgänger or something else that didn’t exist. If Kurt pushed everything else to the side and focused on the moment, as he usually did during sex, he could imagine he was like any other omega. He was loved. He was cherished. He was with someone who wanted to be with him, and wasn’t just there for their careers and a good time.

They showered together. They got room service, and they watched cat videos together. They slept in the same bed, and Kurt got to wake up in someone’s arms for the first time in his life.

Okay, so if he was dead he couldn’t work and save up enough to retire with Mum. She’d get enough from his life insurance policy to get a place for herself. He was fine with being dead, if it meant spending eternity having mind-blowing sex and waking up feeling like this.

They slept late on Saturday morning, because they could. Dom didn’t have any clothes that weren’t dirty, but in the suite they didn’t have to bother with clothes so it wasn’t an issue. Apparently clothes weren’t an issue in heaven.

By three o’clock on Saturday, though, Dom’s phone buzzed with an incoming text. The idyll smashed to pieces. “Ah. It’s the guys. They want to meet up at Shifty’s. Er, Shifty’s Too, technically.” Dom glanced at him. “It’s kind of a dive.”

Kurt flopped back onto the pillows. “I guess I’m not dead after all.”

Dom looked at him like he had three heads. “Wait, what?”

Kurt sighed and sat up again. “Never mind. I suppose you’ll be heading out to join them?”

Dom squirmed. “Well it does feel like I should. I’m going to want to put on something clean first, but hey.” He perked up. “You could come with us.”

Kurt cursed at the little knot of hope growing in his chest. Hope was for children. “None of them want me there. I’m an outsider, and a hinderance.”

Dom grimaced. “Well, you are an outsider. That ain’t changing. But they’re a lot more open to you than they were to Church. The poor guy got the silent treatment for months. Tonight’s more of a social hour than a work thing anyway. You’ll get to meet some of the people involved with the platoon—partners, friends, spouses. Not just us.”

Kurt took a deep breath and tried to find his center. He needed to keep his good sense about him. He wasn’t here to suddenly discover the difference between sex and love, damn it. He was here to research a role. Meeting the SEAL partners would be part of that, even if it was likely to drive him mad with something he couldn’t quite explain.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go. Er, you don’t think it will be a problem to go? If I’m recognized or something?” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Nah. You should be okay. Hopper’s husband, Michaud, has to put up with the same crap. His mother’s Selena Eliot.”

“Oh. Oh!” Kurt’s eyes bulged. “I worked with her, um, four projects ago?”

“Did you?” Dom tilted his head to the side as he tugged his pants on. “What was she like?”

“She was pretty dedicated to the job. Cold, really. But she was damn good at what she does. Not a lot of women actors can make it to her age and still keep getting leading roles.” He didn’t want to speak ill of his friend’s mom, or mother-in-law, or whatever, but Selena Eliot had been a stellar example to him of how not to parent. Everyone knew she had children, except her.

Then again, it was easy enough for him to judge her for it. He didn’t know her backstory, at all.

He found some clothes he thought would at least mostly blend in at the bar and ran them by Dom, who chuckled but approved them. Then Dom blushed. “Can you maybe wear the hat you wore yesterday?”

Kurt blinked. “What, the one I stole from Chief?”

Dom’s eyes bulged, almost like a cartoon character’s. “You stole a hat from Chief? You don’t value your life, do you?”

Kurt smirked at him. “Got to keep up my reputation somehow.” He winked. “It’s not about just bringing handsome SEALs back to my suite and watching cat videos with them.”

Dom reddened up a little when he mentioned his reputation, but he ducked his head and blushed when Kurt finished. “I thought the other three were the hot ones.”

“They’re the ones that could pass for Hollywood types. You’re a very different kind of handsome.” Kurt’s cheeks burned a little. He didn’t want to say too much. He didn’t want to feel too much either. He knew where all of this was going. It might be too late on that front, though. He stroked Dom’s stubbled cheek. “Come on. Let’s get you home. We can at least put the laundry on.”

They headed back to Dom’s place and got him changed. Kurt put a load of laundry on while Dom dealt with his clothes. “I’m kind of surprised you know how to do your own laundry. I figured you’d have people for that,” Dom told him, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“I do. Now. I didn’t always. Remember, I did have a condo once.” He set to folding Dom’s laundry as it came out of the dryer. “I’m absolutely useless in the kitchen, but I like to do laundry. I like folding it while it’s still warm. It’s comforting. Reminds me of Mum.” He blushed. He’d said too much. Dom didn’t care about stuff like that.

When they’d finished cleaning up and getting Dom changed, they headed back out. Dom glanced over at Kurt as they rode over in a Lyft. “Where’s Sommer? I’m surprised she’s not all over you right now. She doesn’t usually let you out of her sight.”

“She’s sent me eight messages since last night.” Kurt dropped his hand to the pocket with the phone in it. He didn’t want to think about Elisa. “I texted her once as proof of life. It’s the weekend. I’m busy. She can chill.”

“Okay, then.” Dom widened his eyes a little, like he was impressed, and let the subject drop.

Shifty’s Too was near the base. Dom had been generous when he described it as a dive. It was the kind of corner pub people from outside the neighborhood didn’t dare set foot back in London, except it wasn’t on a corner.

He followed Dom into the squat, dark building. A huge sign hung behind the bar, with neon lettering. Shifty’s Too Supports Our Troops. Well, of course they wanted to convey that kind of message, didn’t they? This close to a military installation, they’d want to be clear about their loyalties. Of course, there were ways to support the troops without having a big, neon sign over the bar. Discounts for customers with military ID would be one. Fundraisers for military families would be another. Then again, it wasn’t for Kurt to make comments like that. It wasn’t his country, these weren’t his troops.

Dom led him over to a cluster of tables near the bar. Some of the tables had burns and some didn’t quite stand upright, but Kurt kept his mouth shut and waved. He’d seen most of the guys clustered around the tables, although he didn’t know the civilians.

Dom put a hand on his back. “Kurt. You know the guys. Over here we have Mal Kelly. He’s Kelly’s husband. Next to him, the blond, is his friend and coworker, Nick Fitzpatrick.”

Nick waved. “It’s nice to meet you.” He raised a glass. “Can we get you something?”

Kurt held up a hand. “Thanks, I’m not much of a drinker. I’m pleased to meet you too.”

He shook Nick’s hand, and then Mal’s.

“This over here is Colin Church.”

“With the Times?” Kurt shook the journalist’s hand.

Church looked a little taken aback at the idea someone recognized him. “Er, not anymore, I’m afraid. I work with a local network affiliate and freelance these days. We can only have one parent traveling, I’m afraid.” He grinned and put a hand on Adami’s shoulder. “I’m still getting used to it, but it works.”

“And over here we’ve got Dr. Ben Michaud. He saved a lot of people on our last trip to Syria. Now he saves a lot of people over at Portsmouth Naval Hospital.”

Michaud would probably be the one who was Selena Eliot’s son. The name sounded kind of familiar, at least. “Pleased to meet you, too.” He let his gaze flit around the room. “So you’re all married to SEALs?”

“Yep.” Mal spoke up in a cheery voice. Mal was Irish, probably Northern Irish if Kurt remembered accents right. “For better or for worse.”

“You love it,” Kelly told him with a grin. “And you’re assimilating just fine to the States at last.”

“Bite your tongue.” Mal made a face. “I still don’t have a pickup truck or a gun rack. How about you, Kurt?”

“Er, neither.” Kurt took the seat Dom indicated. “I’m not exactly a firearms kind of guy, unless I have to be for a role. I keep thinking someone’s overcompensating every time I see them, you know?”

The SEALs all sputtered. Mal laughed and so did Ben. “It’s one of the hardest things to adjust to about living here,” Ben told him. “Coming from overseas it really does feel like they’re everywhere, doesn’t it?” He laughed. “So, you’re the new guy on the block. That’s got to be hard for you.”

Dom turned his attention to his buddies. In fact, the two groups had definitely split off. The SEALs all faced one another and talked shop amongst themselves, while the spouses sat together and talked about their kids on the other side. Kurt sat in the middle, neither a SEAL nor a spouse. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling.

Maybe that was why he got distracted by the bartender. He couldn’t nurse a drink to occupy himself in the face of all that baby talk, and he couldn’t insert himself into all of the SEAL talk. The bartender was drawing attention to himself anyway. Most bartenders stayed on their side of the bar, but this guy kept coming over to their table to take their orders. That wasn’t normal, and no one else in the bar seemed to merit that kind of attention.

The bartender was a burly, ruddy-faced man with red hair and tattoos. He wasn’t handsome, by any stretch of the imagination. He didn’t think much of Kurt’s preference to avoid alcohol, either. He curled his lip at Kurt every time he thought Kurt wasn’t looking. He didn’t have a lot of interest in the spouses, either, but hovered around the SEALs to take drink orders from them.

That got Kurt’s suspicions up. Sure, Shifty’s Too “supported their troops.” That didn’t translate to hovering around SEALs like a djinn. The SEALs were more or less identifiable as military, between their bearing and their general style. There were plenty of other military types in the bar, too.

If this were a movie, one of Kurt’s, the hovering would be a giant red flag. He was well aware that reality and fiction were distinct and separate entities, but they were living in dangerous times. Eleven congressmen were on trial for terrorism, for crying out loud. A terrorist had taken out an arena full of people, killing eight thousand of them. It didn’t pay to be complacent.

He pulled out his phone. He probably couldn’t get a good view without being hugely obvious, but he knew his reputation. He would make it work for him. He let his face go completely vacant, as stupid as he could, and leaned in with his phone to get a selfie with Dom. Dom barely noticed, he was so involved with his conversation with Buelen.

Kurt didn’t care. He aimed the camera to get a picture of a distinctive tattoo on the bartender’s arm as he leaned in to snatch an empty pint glass away from Dom. The tattoo caught his eye, and he knew he’d seen it before. It would help to put his suspicions to rest, and if nothing else it would give him something to do besides talk about babies.

He did a reverse image search of the tattoo. It took all of thirty seconds to come back with an answer. The tattoo was the symbol the white supremacist group Chaos Tree used for their movement. Chaos Tree was the group linked to the eleven congressmen on trial now. If Kurt remembered correctly, he’d seen a few articles linking them to White Dawn.

He looked up, mouth dry. The SEALs had been in Texas looking for something, and while Kurt had no idea what it was, he knew it related to the whole mess in Washington right now. This was something someone should know about. He tapped on Dom’s arm. “Dom, you need to see this.”

“Not now, babe.” Dom didn’t even glance his way. “I’m in the middle of something.”

Kurt ground his teeth in frustration, even if the endearment made him want to dance and sing. “Dom. I’m serious.”

“It can wait, babe.” Dom glared at him, and Kurt sat back.

Mal put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t take it personally,” he advised quietly. “They usually don’t get to chat and be social. It’s all about the manly grunting and gun talk when they’re on the job, sadly. You’ll get used to it.”

Kurt took a deep breath to calm himself. “Maybe you can tell me who I should show this to.” He didn’t know why he was asking Mal. Probably because he needed to tell someone. He showed Mal what he’d come up with. “This was on the bartender’s arm.”

“The ginger fellow who keeps hovering around the boys like an old fart?” Mal glanced at the bartender, and then down at Kurt’s phone. His eyes bulged. “Bugger. That’s not good at all, is it. I’m going to send it to me, from your phone, and then I’m going to send it to Chief. This is important. Good catch, mate.”

“Thanks.” Kurt watched as Mal sent the picture to himself, and then forwarded it on to someone else. He tried to ignore the irritation that clawed at his insides. Okay, Dom might be a good lover, but he still didn’t take Kurt seriously.

Kurt should have known better.

* * *

Dom didn’t see Kurt on Sunday. He’d hoped to get Kurt back to his place on Saturday night, but Kurt said he wasn’t feeling well and begged off. He didn’t hear from him the next morning, and that kind of left Dom scratching his head. It didn’t make a lot of sense, having Kurt go from “whatever, it’s transactional” to Mr. Clingy just like that, but he couldn’t find any explanation other than pushing him off when he’d tried to talk to him either.

These Hollywood types could be such prima donnas, though. It wasn’t even really their fault. They just went through life getting paid for how well they could be the center of attention. It was probably devastating to them when they weren’t, all of a sudden.

When Sommer called him on Sunday night, anxious and angry at the same time, Dom got worried.

“Look, the last time I saw him, was with you. You know he can’t be left on his own. He’s not responsible enough.” Sommer’s voice took on a pleading note. “He doesn’t know anyone around here. I’m terrified that something might have happened to him. Did he leave with anyone else?”

The thought of Kurt going home with someone else made Dom’s blood boil, but he pushed it down. They hadn’t talked about monogamy. They hadn’t even hinted at monogamy. He didn’t have the right. Hell, until he woke up in Kurt’s arms, he didn’t think he’d want monogamy with someone like Kurt.

“Ms. Sommer, I can understand your concern. I invited him out with me and the guys from the platoon last night, to give him some better insight into our free time and our personalities. I dropped him off at the hotel with no problems. I did text him this morning, but he said he wasn’t feeling well.”

She scoffed. “He’s as healthy as a horse. The studio spends a lot of money making sure he’s healthy as a horse. Believe you me, he’s up to something.”

“I thought the whole ‘bad boy’ image was something that was working for y’all.” Dom put his feet up on the coffee table. “He’s a grown-ass man. He can do whatever he wants on his own time.”

Sommer’s laugh dripped contempt. “Mr. Van Heel, I don’t think you understand quite how this works. He’s under contract to the studio. There is no ‘on his own time.’ There’s only company time. His contract is so loaded with provisos against certain behaviors it’s a miracle he can even read a book in peace, and there are very good reasons for that. He’s never tried to live without someone planning every move, every transfer, every step. Do you honestly think he’d be able to survive for a minute if he had to manage his own money or try to get his own meals?”

Dom thought back to Kurt standing in his laundry room, humming a little tune as he folded someone else’s laundry. “I think we’ll find out. Anyway, I honestly don’t know what to tell you. I’d say text him and let him know you’re looking for him, and if he doesn’t show up tomorrow, get the police involved.”

“You’re useless,” Sommer fumed. The call went dead.

Dom didn’t care that she’d hung up on him. She wasn’t any better than a madam, as far as he was concerned.

The next day, Dom showed up to work as usual. He expected Kurt to show up fifteen minutes late as always, but Kurt was the first one there. He looked exhausted, and it wasn’t a great look on him, but he was there. He sat with the FBI Agent who’d been working on the Chaos Tree investigations, Aliprandi, and spoke with Chief and none other than Mal Kelly. Trent Kelly stood by Mal’s side, looking proud.

Chief caught sight of Dom and gave him a frosty look. Dom’s skin broke out in goosebumps all over. No one wanted to be on Chief’s bad side. “Van Heel, good of you to join us.”

“Good morning, sir. Er, Kurt, Sommer was looking for you last night. If you don’t push her off or something she’s going to call the cops out.” Dom tugged at his collar and felt sweat. He didn’t think he’d done anything wrong—although maybe Kurt was in trouble. Was Kurt in trouble? Was that why the FBI was on base?

“You just leave Sommer to me.” Chief set his jaw.

The other guys filed in around them. A few gave Kurt curious looks, but no one had much to say. If they did, they saw the look on Chief’s face and thought better of it.

When everyone else made it into the room, DeWitt walked in and stalked up to the front.

“Men.” His gaze fell coolly over all of them. “Last night Shifty’s Too was shut down, permanently, as part of the FBI’s investigation into the Chaos Tree organization.”

Dom dropped his jaw. He wasn’t alone. The other guys exchanged shocked glances with him and with each other. “What the hell, sir?” Kulkarni raised his hand. “That’s our main hangout.”

“I’m aware, Kulkarni. Most bar closings don’t rate an explanation during our morning briefing.” DeWitt raised an eyebrow at him. “Apparently the enemy was very much aware it was your preferred bar, because someone caught the bartender hovering around you guys listening to your every word.” He gave them all a hard look. “I get we’re not used to having to be so guarded when we’re on American soil, and you’re all sensible enough not to talk about anything sensitive when you’re out in public anyway. But I’m honestly surprised you didn’t notice. McNeil here got a clear-as-day picture of the bartender’s Chaos Tree tattoo the first time he went in the place.”

Dom hung his head. Kurt had been trying to tell him about the bartender, and Dom had written him off as clingy and annoying. Damn it. At least he’d gotten through to someone. “Er, how did he get the word out, sir? I didn’t think you two were all that close.”

Kurt turned sorrowful eyes onto Dom because he didn’t feel like enough of a jerk.

Chief cleared his throat. “He spoke to Mal, because Mal was willing to hear him out.” Okay, that explained the nasty look Chief had given Dom when he walked in. “Mal brought me in right away, and the rest is history.”

No one had heard Sommer walk in. “I suppose that’s where you were yesterday?” She stormed up to the front of the room. “You thought it would be just grand to flit off and pal around with the SEALs when you knew I was looking for you.”

Aliprandi stood up. She was a tall woman and could look pretty intimidating when she wanted to. “Mr. McNeil was assisting in an important federal investigation, Ms…”

“Sommer. And he’s aware that he shouldn’t be going anywhere, with anyone, without running it by me first. I need to know where he is at all times.”

“That’s not accurate.” Kurt yawned. “I am in fact a legal adult, and I took a good look at my contract with the studio. I’m not obligated to use your services at all. While it’s convenient to have someone to make my travel arrangements, certainly, I’m not obligated to report to you in any way.” He fixed her with a look. “We do have that phone call with Accounting at noon, don’t we? I’m looking forward to that.”

Sommer paled and stepped back. “I’m sure you’re not under any obligation, of course. But you have to understand why I was so concerned. I’m responsible for your safety and your well-being. I can’t take care of things for you if I don’t know where you are.”

“Of course.” Kurt gave her a thin little smile, and then he turned his attention back to Chief and Aliprandi. “You did find the information useful?”

“Absolutely.” Aliprandi smiled at him. “And thanks for your help going into the place. The whole crew has been arrested. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

Dom would have fallen over, although whether it would have been from shock or shame was still anyone’s guess. Kurt settled in for the rest of the morning briefing, and Dom let the speeches wash over him as he tried to think about what had just happened.

He’d screwed up. The last time, he’d been judgmental and angry. This time, he was just foolish. This time, he just thought Kurt wouldn’t have anything vital to share, or at least nothing vital that couldn’t wait until his conversation with Buelen was finished.

Chief called him out on it too, at lunchtime when Kurt and Sommer were conference calling with Accounting. Dom didn’t have a lot of use for accounting or bureaucrats, but he would rather sit through fifteen accounting meetings than one tongue lashing from Chief.

“So.” Chief gave him a long, hard look. “You and him.”

Dom squirmed. “Look, sir. I didn’t necessarily intend for any of that to start. It was this thing, and then stuff happened, and then—”

Chief cut him off. “Van Heel, I don’t think you’ve been this inarticulate since you got that concussion back in Kuwait. Pull yourself together, would you? Things happen. Was it a set-up by that awful woman?”

“Um, yes.” Dom bowed his head. “Apparently that happens a lot. That whole…that whole thing he does, with all the guys? That’s all been set up. It’s always been. It’s kind of creepy, sir.”

“And yet you walked into it with your eyes open.” Chief gave him a look.

“Sir. I—well, not so much, the first time. And then the next, I wanted to make him feel good. Which sounds stupid now, and I get that, but I guess I just wanted to prove that there could be another option. Something out there for him besides...you know.”

“Son, don’t apologize for wanting to make your lover feel good. Okay? It’s supposed to feel good for both of you. That’s the idea. Seems to me a guy your age should know that. But he had to go to someone else to get them to take him seriously?”

Dom closed his eyes. He let his hands fall to his sides in shame. “Yes, sir. I know. It’s awful. But sir, I just—I know he’s smarter than he lets on, but I was in the middle of a conversation, and it never did occur to me that he might be talking about a matter of national security. Or, you know, that he’d bring a matter of national security to me.”

“I see.” Chief scratched his chin, underneath his beard. “Here’s the thing. He’s a good kid. And he’s a smart kid. What you have to do is decide what you want to do about him.”

“Sir?” Dom sat up a little straighter. Maybe he should have had more coffee this morning, because his CO wasn’t making any sense.

“Don’t you see the way that woman treats him? And now I’ve got you telling me they’ve all been treating him like a hooker when he’s not on the screen, for years? You were good with him on the flight back from Texas.”

“Well, I don’t want to be a jerk. I’d rather have him remember me as a gentleman, the way a SEAL and a Texan should be remembered.” Dom thought that was what Chief was getting at. “But here’s the thing, sir. He’s not sticking around. He’s here to research a role. He’s got—well, he’s got a lot of complications, you know? There’s a lot about him that could use some healing. He’d have to spend some time in the same place to have that healing happen.”

“He’d have to spend some time with someone who respects him too.” Chief scowled at Dom and leaned forward. “If you hadn’t gone and fucked him, it wouldn’t be an issue. I’d just tell you to stay away from the poor guy. But you did, and you didn’t bring him out because you wanted to help him perfect that absurd role of his.”

“No.” Dom looked away. “I was feeling good. I didn’t want it to end.”

“Just think how it would have gone if you’d done right by him.” Chief sat back. “Look. I get you’re not going to be together forever. He will be moving on. Your enlistment period is ending. You’ll be sticking around, unless you’re not planning to re-up and just haven’t told anyone. I just think you should treat the guy with a little more respect.”

“I’m trying, sir.” Dom managed a weak grin. “I seem to be putting my foot in it a lot, but I am trying.”

“SEALs don’t try, Van Heel. They do it until they get it right.” Chief rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “I swear to God I’m locking every new SEAL up in a chastity belt until their service time is over. It’ll save me so much heartburn, I’m telling you.”

Dom wasn’t sure that enforcing chastity on everyone was the way to go here, but he figured Chief was probably right about smoothing things over with Kurt.

After work, he sought Kurt out as soon as dismissal was over.

Kurt looked annoyed, but he’d looked annoyed ever since that meeting with Sommer. He seemed to be trying to put on a more welcoming face for Dom. “Dom, what’s going on?”

“I wanted to apologize for blowing you off on Saturday night. It never occurred to me that you would ever recognize a Chaos Tree tattoo, or to look for them so close to home. It was wrong of me to act the way I did and I’m sorry.”

Kurt stood up a little straighter. “Um, thank you?” He managed a little bit of a smile. “I think that might be one of the nicest things anyone’s said to me. And honestly, I’m not that mad. I was irritated, but it’s not like I should expect you to drop everything and pay attention to me and only me.” He laughed. “I mean yeah, I’m kind of self-centered, but I don’t think I’m that bad.”

“So are you up for dinner tonight? I’ll cook.” The invitation came impulsively, and Dom almost regretted it as soon as he said it. He didn’t know if his place was clean enough to have a guy like Kurt over.

He mentally erased the phrase a guy like Kurt from his vocabulary. There were no guys like Kurt. Plenty of people thought they could define him, but if Kurt couldn’t even define himself how could anyone else do it?

“You cook?” Kurt’s eyes lit up. “Sounds great. But you have to let me wash the dishes.”

“You know how?” Dom covered his mouth with his hands. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

Kurt didn’t seem to be offended. Instead, he just laughed. “You’d be surprised at the things you have to know for a role. And before I ever got on screen, I did live a pretty normal life. I’ll be fine.”

Dom whisked him away from base before Sommer could find them.