We’d talked about anything and everything. Our conversation was held over three long months throughout our deployment to Iraq. It was split up with a couple of injuries and more than one battle. We were in the thick of Fallujah at the time, so sometimes, we’d go days in between talking about nothing but work. But when work was done and we had some downtime, we’d pick right back up where we’d left off.
We were the low men on the team and shared a hooch with four other guys, so moments alone were few and far between, but we made them count. Privacy was nonexistent. Even if you got a minute alone, you weren’t guaranteed that minute would last. Not that we were talking about anything sexual or private, at least not much, but things had definitely changed when we’d gotten home.
I heard a door open, so I finally forced myself to enter the apartment. I stopped just inside. That was as far as I could get. I fell back against the door. My head banged against the steel. A thud sounded from the impact. I blamed it for the rush of tearsthat burned my eyes and nose. I slid down the door, ignoring my phone.
They can all go fuck themselves.
How long I sat there, I didn’t know. When I arrived, morning sunlight had streamed through the blinds, waking up the apartment the same as it was the earth. Now, it had become a beacon, shining brightly through the curtains Granny hung during one of her visits. My face was sticky from the tears. My nose was stuffed up.
I sighed and got up, wandering through the apartment. Another wave of tears rushed to the surface. The sobs ripped through me as I sat on his bed. I ran my hand over his blankets before I lay down, clutching that stupid pancake rock that Adam called a pillow to my chest.
I lay there, trying to absorb every bit of Adam possible. I needed to maintain my cool when I walked out of his door because if I lost it, command and the cake eaters at the Pentagon and probably the White House would dig in their heels. I’d never get him back, even if it was just as a friend and teammate.
This had been the first and last place we’d made love. And that was what it was. Even if Adam had denied it, I knew. We were meant to be together. I’d known it the moment we met, the day we’d kissed one another the first time.
SPRING 2005
“Goddammit! Stop fucking lying to me. Stop lying to yourself,” I screamed at him.
Ever the stoic motherfucker, Adam said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I laughed mirthlessly. “Bullshit. And fuck you for being a damn coward.”
Rage consumed him. He turned violent fucking red. It started at his waistband, climbing up his naked chest to his neck and face. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him overcome with anger.
“Coward? Have you lost your fucking mind? It’s not fucking cowardice. It’s fucking self-preservation. Do you think I like the options? Because I fucking don’t, damn it, but they are what they are. We’re lucky it was something innocent enough we could pass off as just two straight friends having fucking dinner!”
My world disintegrated at my feet like my bones had turned to dust. I slid to the floor, my head in my hands. All along, I’d known that was all we could ever be to one another—two straight battle buddies. I knew it, but I fucking loved the asshole, and I wanted to spend my life with him.
I knew he wasn’t a fucking coward. He was courageous, strong, and brave. We were fucking SEALs. We were the baddest motherfuckers there were. And Adam DuBois was the best of us.
I loved being a team guy. I loved my brothers, and I loved the Navy, but it was so fucking unfair that loving my careerand serving my country meant living a life in the shadows, even more so than what being a frogman already required.
Being gay in the Navy wasn’t allowed. And yes, I’d known that when I joined up. Every gay service member knew it, but we wanted to protect and defend our country, so, yeah, we lied. DADT was mine and Adam’s biggest obstacle, but add to that, we were also teammates, which made what most gay service members did even more of an impossibility for us. We could’ve lived our life together in the shadows…if we weren’t teammates.
SEAL teams spent every fucking day together, sometimes every damn minute. It would fucking come out eventually.
Adam sat beside me, his hand gripping my inner thigh, just below my boxer briefs. My dick took notice immediately. It always did when he was near, especially if he touched me. My cock always stood up like an overly excited nerd squirming in his seat with his hand in the air, silently screaming, “ME! ME! ME!”
“It fucking sucks,” he whispered. The sadness and defeat were as clear as day. “I just want you to know that if I saw a way for us, I’d be all in immediately, and I’d never back the fuck off, but…”
An unbidden tear rolled down my cheek. My throat closed up, and my body vibrated with the effort to keep from sobbing like a damn baby. I nodded.
I laid my hand on his thigh, mirroring his action. “The suck just exploded.”
“That it did. So…” he started, but stopped. He clenched his teeth and whispered, “We have to embrace the suck."
We sat there, side-by-side, for so damn long my ass went numb, but I knew if I got up—when I got up—that would be that. My shot at happiness would be over. Life with the man Iloved would forever dangle in front of me like a carrot, always within reach, in view, but completely and utterly unattainable.
I closed my eyes and let my head roll toward him. I wanted to look into those deep, soulful eyes and see more than my battle buddy. I wanted to see a future, but I knew he would pull away from me soon, and I would have to find a way to live life in half measure, content with just being his best fucking friend.
His hand cupped my cheek. His thumb brushed my cheek. “Brock?”
The softness of his voice caused my chin to tremble as I lost control of my emotions. I opened my eyes, and his were staring back at me. Tears welled up, brimming on his eyelashes. Seeing him as emotional as I was about the end of us lightened my load.
“How can you be so fucking lucky while also being the most unlucky motherfucker there is?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Anyone who finds their person is one lucky sumbitch, but finding your person and not being able to make it work has got to be the worst pain there is,” Adam said while stroking my face, smoothing down my beard.
