Dropping onto the ground, I leaned back on the ruck I still had on my back and loosened the straps so it would slide up enough to support my head. What I wouldn’t give to take off this fucking helmet and shower and pull on clean clothes.
Yet more things I missed—a bed, running water, privacy, and a good, hard fuck. I didn’t understand how I could live like a monk for two years only to turn into a twitchy, fucking mess after just a few weeks without a cock to ride.
Not just any cock. Daniel’s. That was the only difference between the two years and the time we’d been here in Afghanistan.
Fuck.
“I told you to get some sleep. Not sit out here and stew.”
Looking up at where Parker blocked the sun, I said, “If you stand right there for the next six to eight hours, I might be able to catch the Zs you told me to get.”
A yawn overtook me, locking my muscles down and making my eyes water. “Fuck! You can’t even yawn in this hellhole. I hate to admit, I miss the hospitality of the Brits.”
“Welcome to the teams, but fuck the SAS,” Parker laughed, dropping to the ground next to me, a bottle of water outstretched toward me.
Laughing at the dig at the mention of the love-hate relationship between the teams and the British SAS, I shook my head. “No point.”
“That new guy spit shine is wearing off.”
“Dust and sand, two great abrasives.”
“Hooyah. And I agree, I miss the Brits, too. This primitive dust bowl ground sleeping shit is for the fucking birds.”
“Yeah, leave it to us Americans to do things the hard way.
After a few laughs, we fell silent, and worry about Daniel ate at me. When I could no longer deal with the concern, I asked, “Have you noticed…”
Parker laughed. “I wondered if you were fucking blind or just didn’t give a fuck. Yes, I’ve noticed.”
“You’ve known him longer…”
“True, but he’s clearly chosen you to be his person.”
My brow furrowed. “He said you guys are best friends.”
“And we are, but,” Parker paused, checking the surroundings before continuing, “you’re the one in his bed.”
I grumbled, “What bed?”
“Yeah, places like this make getting your rocks off difficult, but taking the man some food on occasion wouldn’t be outside of weird. He’s our spook. We need him healthy. And if he’s not talking to me and he’s not talking to you, I’m even more worried than I was.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. Here’s my suggestion: fix yourself some grub, enough for two, then wander over to the command center, sit down next to him, ask some questions…”
“And offer him the food.”
“Um hmm,” Parker hummed. “And we’ll be getting bunks soon. The materials came in today.”
“Thank fuck.”
“Right? Weeks of sleeping on the ground has gotten old.”
“Weren’t you the man who considered this a birthday and Christmas present rolled into one?”
“Shut up.”
I laughed, then said, “I’m going lights out. Wake me up?”
