Tight Quarters (Out of Uniform 6)

“There was a time when no one wanted me doing more than fluff reviews for the arts-and-entertainment page. But Oscar gave me my first real scoop, told me to run with it. He could have given it to a more experienced writer, but he gave me a break. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately about my legacy, and I want to know that I did my part to mentor the next generation. So, yes, I think I could be okay passing the project on to someone else.”

“And you really think I’m worth that?” Del’s voice was quiet.

“You’re worth so much more. So much. And it’s us. We’re worth finding compromises on for stuff like this.” Spencer pulled him toward him—it was not unlike trying to move a khaki boulder, but he succeeded in making Del look at him. “Tell me that we can try again. For real this time.”

“And if people give you shit for meeting me on assignment? Because that’s coming, I’m sure. A lot of people may not care, but some will.”

Spencer made an impatient noise because he didn’t really want to think about that right now. “I’ll deal. As you said, I’m Spencer Fucking Bryant. I’ll take my lumps, and honestly say that we didn’t start up until after the assignment, and I’ll deal with the blip to my reputation.”

“Okay.”

“That’s it? Okay?” Spencer blinked.

“Okay, we can do this thing. Not try. Do it.” Del finally, finally closed the gap between them, leaning in for the barest brush of lips. “I’m a SEAL. We don’t try. We do. And I do want to do this with you.”

“Come back with me,” Spencer urged. “Even if it’s just to sleep. You look exhausted.”

“I am,” he groaned. “And sleeping next you sounds like heaven, but I need to be prepared for some more making-chief hazing tonight and tomorrow morning. I probably need to stay in the barracks tonight, but fuck, how I have missed you.”

“You mean my bed and my shower and my cooking?”

“I mean you.” Then they were kissing for real, kissing like the world might burn down around them and they’d still be here in this truck, wrapped up in each other. But because they were in a truck, on base, where someone Del knew could see them, Spencer reluctantly pulled away, and busied himself straightening Del’s uniform.

“Missed you so much.” Del rested his forehead against Spencer’s. “Does us being together now mean I can drag you to this thing I have to do next weekend?”

“Absolutely. Especially if I get a night with you in the bargain.” He tried not to look too desperate to get Del in his bed again.

“It’s Curly’s wedding. My team and other friends will be there.” Del regarded him carefully, wariness back in his eyes as if he was expecting Spencer to say no.

“Then I guess I’ll bring a suit.” Spencer sighed. “I know it’s not going to be easy for you, coming out to them, and I’ll handle whatever grief they give us because I want to be there for you. With you.”

“Good answer.” Del kissed him again, a soft, lingering kiss that promised more. They still weren’t back on firm ground, but at least Spencer felt like they had a path forward, and he’d take that for now.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The hands-free/GPS device in his truck beeped with an incoming text right as Bacon pulled into the paintball facility’s parking lot.

Miss you. Going to think about what I want to do to you the whole drive down tomorrow. Hoping things go well for you today. Love you.

After he parked, Bacon dictated a fast reply that he’d call with a report later, really wishing the robotic text-to-speak voice was that of Spencer. He missed him too. But Spencer was the one who was very free with the “miss you” and “love you” feelings lately. Ever since their parking-lot promise to give things a second chance, Spencer had been way more affectionate than Bacon, reaching out frequently, while Bacon was still trying to find his footing. He wished they’d been able to fall into bed for a week after making up—that might have helped.

But he’d had to get used to his new duties and prepare for Curly’s big day to boot. He’d told Curly and Rachel a few days ago that he was bringing Spencer, but he still needed to inform the team. It seemed only fair to not just spring it on them at the ceremony, risk spoiling things for Curly and Rachel. So, he was going to do it now. Today. Before the paintballs started flying.

He took a deep breath as he exited the truck and headed for the lobby where a number of the guys were already assembling in their paintball gear, talking about ammo and how they were going to divide the teams for the game.