“That’s fair,” I say.
“I’m a fair guy, but you should know that by now.” He goes to walk off but then pauses. “One more thing.” He turns to Saint. “Mandatory counseling. I want you back in therapy.”
I can tell Saint wants to protest, but he really can’t. He needs the help.
“By the way,” Trav says, “if Mike Bravo doesn’t work out for either of you, you could go into porn. As awkward as it was hearing all that, it was also hot as fuck.”
I laugh, but Saint sinks down in his seat. “Kill me now.”
“Go home and be back here in the morning for debrief,” Trav orders.
On the way home, Saint is still quiet.
“So …” I prompt.
“So … umm, that didn’t go like I thought it would. Trav is …”
“Trav is nothing like we’re used to. In the military, you show your superiors respect because you’re told to do it from day one. Trav earns people’s respect, which is why I said we needed to tell him. And had I not said that but he’d overheard the rest, I guarantee that meeting would’ve gone down differently. Trav and I have trust, and yeah, you’re only new, but I think your military record stands on its own.”
“That’s just it, though. Is he holding on to me because of who I was before? I’m not that guy anymore, and I get the sense that he’s setting me up for failure. Not on purpose or to sabotage, but like his expectations are too high. It’s too much pressure.”
I glance at him and then back at the road. “I think that pressure is only coming from you. Yes, Trav has invested a lot of money into your recovery and getting you back on top of your game, but he also knows it was a risk. For a while, we didn’t even know if you’d survive. He’s not doing this to expect a return on his investment. He’s all about giving queer vets a second chance at life, doing what we know. What we’re comfortable with. If you’re not comfortable, I promise you, you could walk away from Mike Bravo and Trav would still send you a Christmas card every year.”
“Trav sends Christmas cards?”
“Well, no. But metaphorically, I mean he wouldn’t hold it against you. So maybe expectations and pressure make for good therapy fodder.”
Saint throws his head back. “I hate therapy.”
“Maybe you need a different therapist. I like therapy. I get to talk about myself for an hour and whine and complain about my issues and they have to listen.”
“You, enjoying talking about yourself? Shocking.”
“I mean it. If you don’t like therapy, it’s because you’re not getting what you need from it. So try someone else.”
Saint nods. “It’s not that I hate therapy. I hate talking about my recovery and my injuries. Especially when they’ll ask me something I can’t answer because I don’t remember. We just go in circles.”
“Have you considered maybe hypnotherapy? They might be able to unblock whatever your brain is trying to forget.”
“You believe in that mumbo jumbo?”
“You don’t?”
“Do I believe someone can make me think and act like a chicken?”
I sigh. “That’s not what hypnotherapy is. I … I could go with you, if you want?”
“You’d do that?”
I pull into my driveway and click the button for the gate and turn to him while we wait for it to open. “Did you mean what you said to Trav? That what we’re doing is all adrenaline and some weird hero thing of being attracted to your savior?”
Saint glances away as he lets out a quiet “No. Well, yes and no. I do wonder if that’s what this is, but then I look at you”—he turns to me—“and the connection goes past you rescuing me. But I don’t know what any of it means.”
“It means that you liiiike me. Welcome to the club. It’s filled with the rest of the world.”
As I drive through the gate and pull up to the darkened house, Saint leans over and runs his hand up my thigh.
“Does it also mean we don’t have to hold back anymore? Trav knows about us. He said we can keep doing what we’re doing to figure this out …”
“You’ve been holding back?”
Saint plants his lips on my cheek and then neck. “You have no idea.”
I scramble to get my seat belt off. “Shower first. Then I want you naked in my bed.”
“Mm, getting clean just to get dirty again. That turns me on almost as much as that toy drawer of yours.”
I have to push down my erection. “I thought the whole forbidden thing between us made it hotter somehow, but nope. Knowing I can do whatever I want to you right now without repercussions? I’m about to embarrass myself in my pants.”
Saint’s hand moves to rub over my cock. “I won’t care if you do, so long as I get my turn too.”