Tristan gazed down at Josh, holding his omega there on the polished wood bartop, his lip stinging from that hard bite while the jukebox song danced against his eardrums. His heart sat heavy with guilt. He regretted never telling Josh that he loved him that night, that first night. He’d claimed him as his own, for certain, and he knew that Josh had saved himself all that time for him. Immaturity and fear had worked against Tristan. Josh might have thought he was a cocky, confident alpha even back then, but Tristan had always doubted himself.

He had loved him. He’d loved Josh his whole life. He always would.

“What if I said it now?” Tristan asked suddenly.

Josh, who had poured himself another shot of whiskey and was tilting his head back to drink it, sputtered.

“What?” he said intelligently.

Tristan looked up at him, hopeful, suddenly, a wry smile on his lips. He wondered if he looked like a little boy again to Josh, with his hair shaggy and a guilty look on his face.

“What if I told you I loved you now and forever until the day we die? Would you forgive me?”

Josh groaned, and he leaned down, his back arching as he kissed Tristan.

“You know it’s not that simple. Don’t pretend to be innocent, Saint.”

Tristan just grinned even more.

“I miss you calling me that. It gives me butterflies.”

Josh tried to be mad, punching him lightly in the shoulder, but he was fighting off a smile through his furious face.

“You never deserved that nickname. You’re an asshole, Tristan.”

Tristan sighed and pulled away from Josh. He hadn’t come there to get called names. He was trying, and if Josh couldn’t see that…

Josh’s fingers touched his own.

“Are you saying it?” he asked.

Tristan stopped and turned back to Josh, looking into his beautiful green eyes, those thick lashes driving him crazy. On such a masculine man, lashes like that weren’t even fair. Tristan touched Josh’s cheek, brushing his fingers over his stubble.

“Yeah. I love you, Josh.”

It turned out that was all it took. Josh wrapped his arms around Tristan’s neck and kissed him, and with a groan of recognition, Tristan embraced Josh, pushing his hot tongue into his mouth.

Not another word had to be exchanged. After so long, they knew each other, and Tristan flipped Josh against the bar, tugging down his jeans. He watched as Josh gripped the bar tight, and then he thrust deep inside his omega, groaning as that tight heat surrounded him, after so long.

It was almost like their first time again. Neither of them was patient. They moved together, desperate, spurred on by Josh’s heat.

Josh cried out and came first, and when Tristan felt his omega tighten around him, his own orgasm rocked through his body. He held Josh against himself, feeling his skin, his warm body, for the first time in so long, and after just a moment to linger on that feeling, he regretted it. The memory of Josh’s hot, strong body in Tristan’s arms was going to make leaving even harder.

He kissed Josh’s cheek, and then gently pulled out of him, fixing his clothes.

Josh flipped around to look at him, tugging his pants into place, leaning against the bar as if he couldn’t quite stand otherwise.

“Are you leaving again?”

Tristan sighed, looking at him with regret.

“I have to, unfortunately. We’re both in danger if I stay here. I have to keep a low profile.”

Josh shook his head.

“I can’t believe you. You said—”

“Shh,” Tristan said, and leaned in to kiss Josh softly, unable to resist his gorgeous, miserable face. “I know what I said. I meant it. I’m sorry. I really have to go.”

Tristan was grateful to Josh, who didn’t make it any harder than that, but he knew that it was only because Tristan had trampled over his will so much through the years. Josh was used to him leaving. It was a special kind of tragedy that even though he’d learned his lesson, it couldn’t be different this time. He wished with all his heart it could.

* * *

“I did it,” Tristan told his best friend, facing Josh down. He knew he was in for it, but there was no point in hiding it any longer. He was headed for basic training in a week.

Josh glanced up idly from his issue of Hot Rod, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

“Hm?”

Tristan cleared his throat, trying to face down the beautiful man, who loved him, who would give his life for him, have his children, if Tristan allowed it. Somehow, he had to tell him that he was leaving. He’d been trying to have this conversation with Josh for years, and he always put it off somehow.

He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders, sitting on Josh’s bed. Nervously, he reached out and straightened Josh’s blanket. Josh gave him a curious look, and set the magazine down. Tristan had gotten his attention. So why could he still not say it? He felt like he had a lump in his throat the size of a golf ball.

“I enlisted,” he finally said.

Josh’s face told him that Tristan didn’t have to repeat himself. Josh had heard him, and he was processing.

“I know you’ve probably got some questions, and I—”

“Questions?” Josh demanded. “I don’t have any fucking questions.”

“I—”

“Well, except maybe how dare you? How fucking dare you?”

“Josh—”

The smaller man seemed to fly at Tristan, and suddenly he was knocked down onto Josh’s bed, and he felt Josh grab at his shirt and shake him, staring down at him with tears in his eyes.

“You stupid son of a bitch. How dare you? What if I’m pregnant? Did you ever think about that? What if I’m going to have your kid, you bastard?”

Those words were like a punch to the gut. Tristan hadn’t even considered that possibility.

“Are you...you’re pregnant?” he asked breathlessly.

Josh shook his head and climbed off of him, pacing the floor of his bedroom instead.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Since we… I could be. And you didn’t even think of it. You don’t give a shit. Or maybe you’re really trying to hurt me, is that it? Push me away as some sort of sick ego game? Fuck you, Tristan.”

Tristan shook his head, and he felt like the room was spinning. This was all happening a lot faster than he’d thought it would, and he was trying to keep up with Josh’s whirlwind of reactions.

“Look, it’s...maybe you should take some time. I know it’s a lot to process, but even if you were pregnant, most military men have families, Josh, it’s not a death sentence.”

“That’s funny, because that’s exactly what this sounds like to me. A death sentence. Are you suicidal, Tristan?”

Josh took a deep breath, his arms crossed over his chest, and looked out his window for a few minutes before he spoke next. Tristan watched him guiltily, but he didn’t figure that Josh actually wanted an answer. He was still freaking out, and Tristan had expected that, even if he’d hoped it would go differently.

Josh turned back to him.

“You want me to take some time? How much time do I even have? When are you leaving?”

Tristan shrugged, guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders. He knew he was breaking Josh’s heart, and he wished it could have been another way. He had to follow his dreams, but part of him knew that Josh was his dream, too. He wished he could explain to Josh that this was what he needed to do, to finally grow up, to be strong enough to be Josh’s alpha at all. In that moment, he was still a coward. He averted his gaze, unable to look Josh in the eyes.

“A week,” he whispered.

“A week?” Josh replied, in a breathless whisper of his own. He scoffed softly, rubbing at his face. “You’re telling me I have a week.”

Tristan gave such a small nod that he barely moved his head, his chest heavy like he was suffocating. He’d been dreading this for a reason.

“I said I’m sorry,” he managed.

Josh shook his head. “You’re not. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t be doing this. You’re happy because you’re leaving me, and I just have to… deal with that, somehow. And pray that I’m not fucking pregnant.”

Tristan looked away. He hoped that Josh wasn’t pregnant, too. He wasn’t ready to be a father, although with the way Josh talked, he knew that Josh was. His omega wanted a baby, and he felt terrible that he wasn’t ready to give him that, but he wasn’t. He had a lot of growing to do.

“If...you want to, you should write me,” Tristan said.

Josh swallowed, but was silent, and Tristan hoped that meant that he would.

“I’m gonna go now.”

Again, Josh said nothing. He stared out his window, his jaw flexing, and Tristan nodded, to Josh and to himself. That was fair. He knew that he had broken Josh’s heart. He slipped silently out of Josh’s room, and for another year after that, out of his life.