Wheels Up (Out of Uniform 4)

“I just can’t...” Swallowing hard, Wes looked away. “You say this isn’t about me, but it is. And I’m not worth you tossing your career away over. I’m not.” His voice broke, making Dustin’s chest clench.

“You are. We are. What we have together is. Most people never find a connection like ours. You’re crazy if you don’t think that’s worth fighting for. And you...you’re amazing.” Dustin struggled to find a way to put his feelings in words. It was easier, laying out the logical reasons for his decision than chipping away at the real center of his emotions the past few weeks. “You inspire me. You make me laugh. You listen better than anyone I’ve ever met. And you too are a hell of an operator. If anyone is worth this, it’s you. But I won’t have you drowning yourself in guilt. Tell me to fuck off, tell me there’s no chance of anything between us, tell me that it really was just sex. I’m still doing this.”

“It wasn’t just sex,” Wes muttered. “And if saying that made you distracted out on the mission—”

“You said what you had to. Neither of us needed a formal investigation. Ending it was the only choice right then.” Dustin really didn’t harbor any anger toward Wes, not anymore.

“And now? Where do we go from here?” Wes reached for him for the first time since his arrival. Only a fingertip trailing down Dustin’s cheek, but the contact electrified him. God, he’d missed Wes so fucking much.

“I’m not sure,” Dustin admitted. “Me leaving—it doesn’t neutralize the risk to you completely. They could still go after you. Or try to reactivate me so they could sanction me. I’d understand if you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I can’t... I can’t walk away. Not right now. Not without touching you one more time.” Wes’s eyes were narrow and serious and filled with a pain that Dustin was sure mirrored his own. Fuck. This sucked. And Dustin had known before he’d called Paul, before he’d announced his decision, that this might not be enough to salvage what they had. The risks were still there—rules and regulations unchanged by the depth of their feelings.

So he couldn’t force Wes to leap enthusiastically at his announcement, couldn’t make him want to try for a future, however murky and tenuous. But he could ask him for one more kiss. One more act of desperation. Not sure he trusted his legs to move, he pulled Wes off the couch, landing in an inelegant sprawl on the rug, Wes on top of him, peering down.

“Hi.” Wes blinked.

“Hi,” Dustin said back, mouth all dry and cottony with longing.

“Fuck. I missed you.” Wes’s eyes shone. “Should have said that first thing. But hell, you pissed me off. Still don’t think—”

“Don’t think. Not right now.” Dustin tugged him down until their faces were level. “Just...” Stay with me. Give us this. Just tonight. Don’t make me be alone quite yet.

“Yeah.” As always, Wes could read his mind, delve into everything Dustin had to leave unspoken. “I’m here.”

And that was enough. For right now, that was enough. Wes closed the gap between them, rubbing his mouth across Dustin’s, a glancing, almost tentative contact. Dustin couldn’t stop his exhale, relief coursing through him as his body remembered everything it loved about Wes—the weight of him on top of Dustin, the strength in the arm he was bracing himself with, the softness of his mouth, the slowness and connection of their bodies. No rushing. They were always so pressed for time, yet Wes’s kisses always made him feel like they had forever.

Wes traced his lips with his tongue, gently seeking, and Dustin welcomed him eagerly. “Missed this,” he mumbled right before Wes deepened the kiss.

“Me too.” Wes sucked on his lower lip before releasing it. “Dreamed about you. Every damn night. But my dreams never got your taste right. Never got your feel. Never got this...” Wes shook his head.

“I know.” Dustin pulled him back down for another kiss, this one more urgent. He’d dreamed about Wes too. Memories of his voice and touch that made him wake up and punch the mattress, loss fresh. His waking mind might someday find a way forward, but Wes was always going to own a chunk of his soul, haunt his dreams. And he tried to tell him that with his kiss, tried to tell him that he wasn’t ever forgetting him. That if all they got was this one last kiss, it was enough. Just to have had him, however briefly, it was worth it.

Their mouths knew each other, knew their taste, knew what their bodies needed, even more than their brains. Screw logic. They just worked, on a level that Dustin had never had with anyone before.

Breathing in tandem, they kissed until Dustin’s mouth felt as bruised and swollen as his heart. And still he wasn’t stopping. His hands skimmed down Wes’s sides, tugging at his shirt. “Need you.”