On Point (Out of Uniform 3)

“Ain’t nothing I haven’t seen before.” God, it felt so good to joke like this. Felt like it had been months and months since they’d been free and easy with each other.

“Well actually...” Ben trailed off, then looked away. “Never mind.”

Maddox didn’t ask what or prod. He knew exactly where Ben’s mind had gone. That night with Canaan—neither of them had gotten fully undressed, just Canaan, who had made it clear he was up for another round, one with everyone naked, but an almost palpable sense of awkwardness had descended after Maddox climaxed. And Ben too. Or at least he assumed Ben had too. He still wasn’t entirely sure whether Ben had actually gotten off, but he hadn’t argued when Maddox offered Canaan food and drink and a ride home. Maddox’d been polite, at least he hoped he had, but he’d also been done.

As he’d expected, messing around with Canaan together had solved nothing, made all his weird longing worse, and only raised the awkward factor between him and Ben. He’d wanted more with a fierceness that scared him—he didn’t like...needing so much. Couldn’t go there, couldn’t let his body develop such a craving.

So, yeah, despite seeing Ben change clothes hundreds of times, he hadn’t seen him naked, not like that. But I have a pretty good imagination. And welcome back, tension between them.

Ben took two steps, sock-covered feet slipping against the slick floor, or maybe he was simply that shaky, but he reached Maddox’s tray and grabbed the mug. “See? No problem.”

“You’re a crappy liar.” Maddox reached out right as Ben wobbled—

Whoosh. The mug tumbled out of both their grasps and Maddox yelped as he got a lap full of icy water.

“What’s going on here?” A new nurse rushed in, a pretty woman with dark hair and stern eyes.

“Nothing,” they said at the same time, and they both started cracking up, because really, what else was there to do? Sometimes you just had to laugh. And it was like they were kids at summer camp, trying to pull one over the counselors.

“You are not supposed to be out of bed.” She pointed at Ben, who stepped back to sit on his bed. “I promise, you’re going to get some walking practice in tomorrow—”

“I don’t need practice,” Ben scoffed.

“Supervised.” The nurse was undeterred, wagging her finger at Ben. She turned her attention to Maddox, lifting up his soggy blankets. “And now you’re all wet. Let me see if we can round up a fresh gown and blankets for you. Seems like it missed your leg at least.”

“Sorry.” Maddox gave her his most contrite look, still feeling like a kid caught mid-prank.

She drew the curtain between their beds with a flourish, laughing like she couldn’t help it. “I knew you guys would be trouble.”

She helped Maddox strip out of the wet gown, and wasn’t that a blow to the old ego, being patted down and dressed like a toddler. Getting him settled back with dry bedding with the assistance of another nurse, she left the room with a final warning. “No more hijinks, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison and burst out laughing again.

She’d left the curtain drawn between their beds, and Maddox sure as heck wasn’t going to be the one to tumble out of bed to dislodge it. Besides maybe it was easier this way, to say what needed saying without having to see Ben’s face.

“Thanks,” he said. “For everything.”

“For freezing your ‘nads off?” Ben’s chuckle was warm and rich.

“Ha. I’m trying to be serious here.” Maddox lowered his voice to try to keep the emotion out of his tone. “For not leaving me out there, even though I wanted you to.”

“Not gonna happen. And isn’t going to happen now. I’m going to get you through this.”

“Pretty sure I should be saying that to you. It’s my fault—”

“It is not. You didn’t slip on purpose—”

“I’m a clumsy oaf, and we both know it.”

“You’re the best sharpshooter in the Navy. Who the fuck cares how fast you run? And it could have happened to anyone. And I would have gone over that ridge for anyone on the team, but you...sure as hell wasn’t losing you.”

Maddox’s chest warmed at Ben’s admission that he was different. Special. “Same here. Hate seeing you laid up.”

“Likewise.” Ben’s laugh had a grit to it that Maddox hadn’t heard before. “The way I figure it, between the two of us, we make one functional person right now.”

Always. Ben was his right arm, the foot he stepped forward with, half his brain. Maddox wasn’t sure he was ever functional without Ben. And that was why he absolutely could not complicate their friendship again—Ben was the single most important thing in his life now, and Maddox wasn’t losing him.

“Yeah.” Maddox’s voice was thick.

“And we’re going to make it through this. Stronger than ever.” Ben’s voice had a certainty to it that Maddox wasn’t sure he could echo. Did Ben mean their friendship? He sure as hell hoped so.