19. Carson
CHAPTER 19
CARSON
Fucking hell.
Now, what am I supposed to say?
I typed and deleted multiple responses until I finally settled on one.
Carson
Not interested.
Realizing how close that was to an admission, I hurried to add more so the meaning behind the words wasn’t so blatant. I didn’t think Roman would rat me out to the brass if I told him I liked men, but I also couldn’t take the chance.
Carson
I wouldn’t mind the family part.
The teams aren’t all that family-friendly, though.
Roman
I imagine not. The charts of the operators I’ve treated made it seem like they were gone more than they were home.
Carson
Yeah. We are. I have a property management company that takes care of my house.
Roman
You don’t live on base.
Carson
No. I moved off base as soon as I could.
I have a house near Little Creek.
It’s close to the beach and the pier, with enough room for when Mama convinces Daddy to show up out of the blue.
Roman
They don’t call first?
Carson
She does now. They made two surprise trips out to see me a few years ago.
The first time, I was pulling out of the driveway when Daddy pulled up behind me.
That op, I was gone for two weeks, I believe.
The second time, she called from the driveway as I walked onto the plane.
We were out of the country for a week. I got back the day before they left for home.
Roman
That’s crappy luck.
Carson
It is what it is.
Roman
Do any of your teammates have partners?
Partners?
That was a strange way to put it.
Most people would’ve said wives or girlfriends.
While I tried to figure out why he worded it that way, he messaged again.
Roman
Little Miss is barreling out of the school building like her hair is on fire. If I don’t respond, I’m driving.
Carson
Yeah, my CO is married with a slew of kids. The rest of us fly solo.
I didn’t mention Adam and Brock, of course. While they were out to us, they were violating DADT, so we all kept a tight lid on things for them.
Carson
No worries.
You guys get home safe.
I’ve gotta get a move on.
I’m meeting up with someone in a bit, and I’ve gotta have another shower.
I dashed toward the shower, kicking myself.
“Why did I say I needed another shower? Who in the hell says that sorta thing to another guy?”
I played and replayed the conversation over in my head as I cleaned the dried cum off my body. When I hopped out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my waist and checked the time on my phone. Cutting it close, but I had time. Another message came in as I went for some clothes.
Roman
Sounds like you had an interesting morning, or maybe an interesting night that continued until morning.
I wanted to tell him a fantasy version of him was the only reason the morning was interesting, but I kept my mouth shut. Or rather, I kept my fingers still.
I moved to get dressed but stopped when Roman’s name popped up on my phone as a call, not a text.
“Hey. Long time no talk,” I joked. Technically, it had been six months.
“HAPPY BIRFDAY, CARSON!”
Margot’s sweet little girl’s voice, was loud as hell, screeching through the phone, making me laugh.
Shit! I couldn’t talk to her naked.
I rushed to my dresser and pulled some gym clothes out of the drawers. I yanked them on real quick, and said, “Thank you, milady.”
A muffled yet adorable little giggle drifted at me through the phone as she asked, “Are you havin’ cake, Carson?”
I chuckled along with her.
“No, princess. I’m not. I am going to the beach for a run with my buddy Brock, and then we’re going to another friend’s house to hang out with all our friends.”
“Like a birfday party? Will there be bawoons and presents?”
“Kinda, but not really. Big people don’t have birthday parties like kids do.”
“That sucks.”
Roman got after her. I wasn’t sure exactly what he said, his voice muffled, but I could’ve sworn he said, “Margot Adrienne! Watch your language.”
“Daddy, you didn’t tell me about Dree ann.”
“What’s Dree ann?” I asked.
“It’s my other name,” Margot piped in.
The line got super quiet while Margot and I waited for Roman to say something about Margot’s middle name. It was stupid of me to think he named his child after me, but I couldn’t shake the sneaking suspicion that Adrienne was taken from my own Adrian.
“Carson, we need to go. The roads are getting slick.”
Likely story, but I didn’t push. Instead, I said, “Drive safe. Bye, Margot Adrienne. Bye, Rome.”
Their chorus of goodbyes made my face stretch wide as I packed a duffle bag with some clothes and toiletries. Brock and I would probably end up at his place, and I knew he wouldn’t mind me grabbing a shower there after our run. His house was similar in design and location to mine, but he lived much closer to the beach.
Which meant, looking at the clock, I was going to be late. I shot Brock a message letting him know I was running a few minutes behind schedule. I hated being late. Even worse, I hated making other people wait on me, so I rushed out the door and jumped in my truck.
Luckily, the traffic wasn’t bad. Not too many people headed toward the ocean this time of year. I pulled into the parking area next to Brock’s truck. He sat on the lowered tailgate, waiting for me.
I greeted him as he hopped off the tailgate and shut it. “Hey, man. Sorry, I’m late. I was on the phone, and time got away from me.”
“No problem, Ensign Wilcox,” he said as we took off down the beach at a steady pace.
“Yeah. That’s going to take some getting used to if I graduate.”
“You’ll graduate and grow used to it sooner rather than later, I’m sure. I’ve got no worries about your ability to get through the training or whether you can do the job.”
I chuckled. He wasn’t wrong. It was a new hat and a pretty big one at that, but I knew I could do it. His confidence in me was much appreciated and humbling because I considered Brock and Adam two of the best non-commissioned officers I’d ever worked with.
“Thanks. So, where’s Adam today?”
“At home. The colder weather is aggravating the stress position injuries.”
The image of Adam strung up, beaten, and battered was something I’d never forget. He’d been held for so long, and if the way we found him was anything to go by, they’d put him through the wringer during his captivity.
“That’s gotta suck. Is he going to Foster’s with us?”
“He wouldn’t miss it. We didn’t think he should run in the cold today. He’ll hop on the treadmill before you and I get back.”
“So, is it set? Are y’all leaving the Navy?”
He glanced at me and said, “Yeah. Foster’s old man has a spot for us both. We’ll be doing practically the same thing as we do for the teams, just as private sector guys.”
“How’s it setting?”
“What? Leaving?”
I grunted in response.
“Depends on which of us you ask and on what day and time. Being a SEAL was our dream, and we achieved it. We were living our fucking dream. But all good things come to an end, and we’ll be leaving on a high note. We took out the cell that captured Adam, and he came home alive and well. Mostly. But we’re walking away from our dream, and that sucks whether it’s your choice. The bright side is we’ll be doing the same job. We’ll be doing it together, out and proud and as a couple. We won’t have to hide our relationship any longer.”
“And the repeal?”
“Even if Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell gets repealed, we’d still have to hide our relationship. We could be together, but one of us would have to leave Alpha Team. What’s the use? We’d never see each other. That’s no way to live. It’s hard enough for a SEAL to make a relationship work with a civilian, but two SEALs on two different teams? Yeah, that’s never going to work.”
“So, Holt will let you guys be on the same team, which means you’ll be with Adam 24/7?”
“Yeah. But we’re used to that, and it’s what we both want. He’s my best friend. As sappy as it sounds, he’s my home.”
I nodded, thinking about Roman and Margot and how I felt talking to them on the phone today. It was natural and easy, even after six months of no contact, but since I never had a relationship before, I didn’t know if what I felt was what Brock was describing.
“What’s got you quiet?”
“Just thinking about things.”
“What things?”
Spying the spot we typically turned around at up ahead, I stopped when we got there, dropping my ass in the sand to take a couple of drinks from the canteen I carried with me. Brock did the same. We stared out over the surf. The smell of salt was heavy in the air as the waves rolled into shore.
I had so many questions I wanted to ask. So many things I didn’t know. I just didn’t know how to bring it up.
“You ready to talk about what had you scared enough in Germany not only to run last summer but to take a swing at me?”
His words were a vise around my throat, closing it off, but I needed to talk to someone about this, and Brock and Adam were the only gay men I knew. I cleared my throat, but it closed right up, so I tried again.
Finally, I croaked, “I’ve never been in a relationship. Never.”
“That’s not surprising, dude. A lot of us just fuck around. This life isn’t for most people.”
“No. I mean… never. Not before the teams, not before the Navy. I mean, never in my life.”
“So, you’re…”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve never…”
“No. Never. Nothing.”
I couldn’t believe I told him that. I swore under my breath.
“Hey. No judgment. But, wow.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Can I ask why?”
I shrugged. “That’s harder to answer.”
“Is it the same reason it was harder for me to deal with Adam’s capture than it was for the rest of you?”
“Maybe. Probably. I think so.”
“Think so or know so.”
“Fuck man, I don’t know. I grew up in a tiny mining town in West Virginia. I don’t know anyone who’s…”
“Gay? Queer?”
I shrugged. “I don’t even know what terminology to use. I don’t know what is and isn’t offensive, what is and isn’t a slur.”
“Okay. Let’s start with something simple. Does the little soldier stand up and salute for men or women?”
I drew my knees up and propped my elbows on them as I continued staring out at the water.
Brock scoffed a laugh and said, “If you can’t answer that…”
“It only happens…” I cleared my throat and tried again, my voice barely a whisper, “It only happens when I’m around… someone in particular.”
“Okay, is this someone in particular a guy or not?”
I couldn’t bring myself to say anything at first, so I nodded instead. When he didn’t speak, I mumbled, “It’s a guy.”
“Then it’s safe to say you’re on the rainbow somewhere.”
I nodded and swallowed. That wasn’t a shock.
Things got quiet for a minute, then he asked, “Is it…”
“The doc. Yeah. He was my first crush, I guess you could say. Then he left, and so did any feelings of that sort. Plus, the place I grew up, it felt like… I don’t know… that being gay meant there was something wrong with you, so I shoved whatever was left after he was gone into a box and nailed it shut. After that, I was pretty much… impotent.”
I nearly choked on that last part and mumbled it so softly I didn’t know if he even heard it. And I really hoped he hadn’t. So, I said, “Anyway, I don’t even know if he’s… you know?”
“Gay?”
I nodded.
“Well, I don’t know for sure, but he definitely set off my gaydar.”
“Is that an actual thing?”
“Yes, and no. It’s a learned skill. Like knowing shit’s getting ready to go sideways when you’re outside the wire.”
“So, a sixth sense, so to speak.”
“Yeah. Some peoples’ are more honed than others.”
“I’m doubting I have it at all.”
“You haven’t needed to have one. So, what are you going to do?”
“Is it weird that…”
“That you pop wood for one guy and no one else?”
I nodded, positive he was going to tell me there was something wrong with me.
“I’m queer as a two-dollar bill, but I’m not the authority on everything under the rainbow umbrella. But nah, dude. It’s not weird.”
I huffed a deep sigh that raised and lowered my shoulders and expanded my chest. Relief flooded me.
“I thought I was impotent. Until last summer, that is. That was the first time; how did you put it—popped wood? Since before I joined the Navy.”
“So, your dick really has a type,” he said, chuckling.
“Yeah. And you’re an asshole.”
“I’m aware. That brings me back to what are you going to do?”
“Fuck if I know. We were best friends in high school. Then he went off to college, and I never saw him again.”
“That’s how things were before we all carried a phone in our back pocket, you know that. I haven’t talked to any of my high school friends since I enlisted in the Navy.”
“I thought I fucked up any chance to renew our friendship.”
“You thought?”
“Yeah, I blew him off. Foster told me I was being considered for OCS, and I panicked.”
“It wasn’t just that, though, was it?”
“No, it wasn’t, but I’m done denying who I am.”
“What brought about the change?”
“Honestly, you and Adam.”
“What?”
“Y’all love each other. Like truly love each other. Everything I was told about gay people growing up was that y’all were deviants who were only interested in fucking. But that’s not the way it is.”
“Well, it’s a little bit the way it is. I mean, I’m a gay man. I like to fuck, but you're right. I love Adam, and he loves me.”
“I want that. I may never have it, but I want that.”
“Then go fucking get it.”
A smile stretched my mouth, hiking my cheeks up so far that they hurt. I reached for my phone. I had a shit ton of leave banked. I could easily go to Germany for a few days and spend some time with Roman, Margot, and Amelia before reporting to Newport. Maybe my gaydar would kick in, but even if it didn’t, I could…
My phone screamed. The alert for command pierced the air. The sound carried, competing with the waves crashing on the shore.
Well, it was a great plan while it lasted.
I stood up and brushed the sand off my ass before turning to walk off. A few feet away, I stopped, hesitating for a moment before coming back to Brock.
Brock huffed a laugh. “If something happens to you, I’ll let him know. How much I tell him is up to you?”
“If I knew how he felt, I’d say all of it, but I don’t know. Use your best judgment, I guess.”
“Wilco,” Brock said in confirmation with a half-hearted two-fingered salute. “Y’all watch your six. I’d feel like shit if you guys got dead while I sat on my ass at home.”
I returned his “Wilco” and two-fingered salute with one of my own before trudging through the sand toward my truck.