Limitless Love: A Polyamorous Charity Anthology

2. Val

Weston never changed, and Val hoped he never did.

Over a year since he saw his two best friends in person, and they hadn’t changed much in other ways, either. Still two unfairly attractive bastards. Sage had that whole tall, dark, and handsome thing down pat, courtesy of his Greek grandparents. Weston may as well have strolled out of central casting for generic military bro, complete with buzzed brown hair and a chiseled jawline. Most people assumed he was in the Marine Corps, which is where he might have ended up left to his own devices instead of following Sage and Val into the Air Force. Val always felt bland and washed out next to them, between his blond hair and fair skin that burned far before even thinking of a tan.

He muffled his laughter while they downed their shots, then stepped forward to drape his arms over Weston’s broad shoulders and Sage’s leaner form. “I’m not dead, you assholes.”

“No, you ditched us for the fucking Space Force. Might as well be the same thing,” Weston said.

The ladies stared blankly, but the bartender burst into laughter and extended a fist-bump to Val. “No shit, Space Force? We finally added your sign.” He jerked a thumb at a side wall and continued to chuckle as he moved away to serve someone else.

Most of the brewpub’s haphazard décor involved unit insignia and company flags, likely those from the nearby military installations. But following the direction he indicated, Val found the official insignia for the various branches of the military decorating the wall space between the kitchen door and the hall to the restrooms. Below the double anchors of the Coast Guard, a handwritten sign covered with glow-in-the-dark stars simply read ‘Space Force.’ Finding it as well, Weston and Sage cracked up behind him.

He’d missed their laughter. No matter how often they Facetimed, the experience wasn’t the same as sharing space. Hell, he missed them. He hoped his best friends were as thrilled with the news he brought tonight as he’d been.

Weston dropped from his seat and swept Val into a back-pounding hug. “Good to see you, man.”

“You, too.” Val stole a moment to lean against Weston’s solid chest, and as always, Weston let him. At least until Sage dragged Val into an embrace of his own. Val had jumped at the chance to transfer to Maryland, but he hadn’t felt like he’d returned home until now. Any absurd doubts about their reactions vanished under the strength of Sage’s obvious pleasure when they separated.

“They’ll seat us now that you’re here,” Sage said. “I’m starving.”

“I am here,” Val said. He laughed when Weston shot a wink over his shoulder toward the women glaring at them from the bar. “I’m never texting you from the parking lot again.” More than once, Weston had timed this stunt to coincide with Val’s entrance, proposing a toast that prompted innocent bystanders to assume he referred to fallen comrades. At least he did it to fuck with people’s heads, not to scam free drinks.

Weston shrugged without a trace of guilt as they trailed Sage to the host stand. “She made Sage uncomfortable.”

Nothing for Val to say against that. Sage had always been the softest of the three of them, and Val would never have left if he hadn’t trusted Weston to watch out for him. That’s what best friends did, right? The three had been a team since middle school, after all. Val hadn’t found anything particularly strange about their closeness until they separated into different tech schools after Basic. But not until these past two years in California did Val discover that might have been a sign of something more.

The way Sage’s gorgeous ass drew his attention as he walked in front of them, following the hostess to their table, did nothing to dispute that. Val dragged his gaze away before Weston noticed, even if Weston’s warmth at his side distracted him much the same way. Sage and Weston proudly came out as gay and pansexual, respectively, during high school, but Val learned well enough in the past year that he might not be the relationship material they wanted or needed. Whatever he felt for them didn’t mean he’d be able to make either man as happy as they made him simply by existing.

Once they were seated, he ignored the weird ache in his chest in favor of enjoying how they slipped into the easy dynamic of friendship they’d always shared. Sage and Weston caught him up with the latest changes and gossip from their Air National Guard base since Val’s last visit. He missed the close-knit community he’d left behind but had wanted to be on the ground floor of building something new when the newly formed U.S. Space Force recruited those specifically in his career field. Easy enough to blame the unnecessary anxiety on what he wanted to ask, not on what he’d left behind.

Sage gave him the perfect opening. “So, what’s new in your world? Caught the aliens yet?”

Val rolled his eyes. His friend understood very well that the Space Force work Val did closely aligned with Sage’s position in the cyber operations field. “Not yet, but I’ll make sure you’re the first to know when we do. Actually, I might be in town for a while. I’ve been transferred to work with the space operations squadron at Fort Meade for at least two years.”

Weston and Sage both lit up at the announcement, which required them to stand for another round of hugs. The food arrived right as they settled again, which delayed Val’s next news as the server delivered their entrees. Of course, Sage beat him to the punch. “Fort Meade’s pretty close by. Where are you staying now?”

Clenching his fingers around his utensils, Val said, “I’m crashing with my brother in College Park at the moment, but the commute is a bitch. I don’t suppose the offer still stands to rent from you two?”

His friends exchanged an unreadable glance, and Val crossed mental fingers. After all, the plan had always been for the three of them to go from a cramped apartment to the giant house of their dreams together, but by the time they’d saved enough for a down payment, Val ditched them for this transfer. Sage and Weston purchased a place on their own last year, and he wouldn’t blame them for dismissing his ask out of hand. Fort Meade provided plenty of housing for a single enlisted guy of his rank, but he’d grown tired of base living after two years at Vandenberg.

But Sage broke into another of his rare giant grins, and Val wondered why he’d doubted his welcome. “Of course. We always refer to the guest room as your room anyway.”

“Wait.” Weston lifted one hand, and Val froze. Eyes narrowed, Weston asked, “Are you bringing the cat?”

Val’s laugh came more as a relieved exhale. “Yes, I’m bringing Morka.”

“Then your request is accepted.”

“Sometimes I think you love my cat more than me.” Val joked, but guilt still pinged him whenever he remembered the picture Sage sent soon after he moved to California, of Weston passed out on the couch with one of Morka’s plush kicker toys clutched in his hand.

Weston nodded solemnly. “That’s because we do.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Sage said, already working a key off his ring. He pressed it into Val’s hand but didn’t release his grip right away. “Welcome home, Valeri.”

“Thank you, Sage.” Val wanted to lose himself in Sage’s dark eyes as he held tight to his oldest friend. Instead, he grunted under the force of Weston’s hand slapping his back.

“It’ll be good to have you here, buddy,” Weston said, toasting Val with his half-drunk beer.

Sage squeezed Val’s hand one more time before drawing away. Val shivered as Sage’s fingertips drew across his skin, but he hid his reaction behind shoving the house key into his pocket for safekeeping. Soon enough, the discussion turned to practical details, such as when he’d relocate from his brother’s condo and how much furniture he brought.

Everyone always said you couldn’t go home again. But even though he had never lived in the house the guys now shared in a Baltimore suburb, Val felt no more than a short stop away from a warm homecoming after the end of a long journey.