Wheels Up (Out of Uniform 4)

“They won’t find anything.” Wes was emphatic but not defensive, and seriously one of the world’s best liars. “Nothing going on. I’ve had friendlier exchanges with my XO back in Little Creek—”

“You’re not in Little Creek now,” the LT interrupted with a harsh bark. “And you’d do well to remember that, you hear? This is my team, and I can’t have even the appearance of impropriety.”

“Understood, sir.” Wes’s jaw was set harder and sharper than a Bowie knife, voice every bit as deadly.

“Fraternization is not some minor concern,” the LT continued. “I take it seriously, and I know Personnel certainly does. Lowe, you’re dismissed, but you keep that in mind.”

“I will, sir.” Wes gave an earnest nod before leaving the office, seeming to take all the air and beating heart right out of Dustin’s chest.

“Anything you’d like to add?” The LT looked at Dustin expectantly after the door closed.

“No.” Dustin shook his head.

“You know it’s your neck on the line here, right? I can’t tell you who complained, but they take this to Personnel, the investigators will go far harder on you than Lowe.”

“I know.” Dustin forced himself to meet the LT’s eyes, return his cool and steady gaze, not wither under the naked speculation there.

“All right then. We’ll consider this handled.” The LT shuffled some papers on his desk. “But watch yourself going forward.”

Somehow Dustin made it through the next portion of their meeting, the routine scheduling tasks and administrative requirements along with discussion of how soon it was likely to be before they were called back out to the field.

It was only later, when alone in the restroom, door locked and double-checked that he let himself have the luxury of falling apart. Damn, but it had hurt when Wes had so readily denied everything that was between them. Even now, his hands shook, remembering how clinical Wes had sounded. Unstressed, as if it really were no concern of his. Hell, he hadn’t even once glanced at Dustin for confirmation, just barreled ahead into his denial, cool as could be.

This is why he ghosted me. Fuck Wes and all his noble intentions. Something had happened the other day, and he was trying to handle it all on his own, save Dustin. But what if Dustin didn’t want to be saved? The threat of a court martial should loom large, the well over a decade he’d spent building his honorable service to the country, the very real consequences of his terrible choices should terrify him. But still...he wasn’t sure. What would he have said had Wes not answered first—

We’ll never know.

He swallowed hard. That was the truth of it. He honestly didn’t know what he’d been about to say or do before Wes forced his hand. And maybe this truly was what Wes wanted. Maybe he wanted to be through with Dustin, bored with the kinky games and sneaking around. Dustin blinked rapidly. He wanted to believe Wes cared, but right then, he honestly wasn’t so sure. It was hard to reconcile the guy who held him so close, who made him feel on such a deep and intimate level, with the cold-hearted operator back in the LT’s office. That had been a masterful performance, one that Dustin should be grateful for. But instead, all he felt was empty and cold all the way to his marrow, as if a life raft had been ripped from him right before a freezing wave hit. He needed...

Wes.

Wes was exactly what he needed and also what he could never have again. Wes had seen to that, made it clear where he stood. Fury and frustration in equal measure welled up inside him. Never before had doing the right thing sucked so hard.

* * *

Wes knew the call was coming, but he dreaded it all the same. This is it. The very last time. Hell, even the blinking chat window represented a huge risk.

You there?

No, Wes wasn’t there. Couldn’t be there much longer, in any event. And if he replied, they’d inevitably end up voice chatting, because so great was Wes’s need to hear Dustin’s voice one more time. He’d gone through his daily tasks in a daze, everything on autopilot, a wonder he hadn’t seriously hurt himself while on duty. Even now, hours later, his ears still rang with the LT’s questions.

No longer able to assume privacy, Wes turned on some music in his barracks room. He knew who had reported suspicion to the LT—fucking Curly who probably thought he was being a friend, saving Wes from himself or some such bullshit. After the confrontation in the LT’s office, the only thing Wes had wanted to do was go and demand an explanation from Curly. And maybe pound him to a pulp—that impulse was certainly there too.

But he couldn’t. Couldn’t even speak to Curly about this without revealing more than he should—his anger would be a dead giveaway, and as much as he’d pulled off lying in the LT’s office, he wasn’t sure he could deliver that command performance twice in a day. But seriously why the fuck hadn’t Curly come to him?