“In fulfilling your parent’s expectations? Yeah, so I noticed,” Aberlour snorted. The brunette had gotten up and was pulling JD to his feet and towards the dance floor. He rolled his eyes. The man was a terrible dancer. In his defence, he was built on the sort of frame that wasn’t meant for dancing. All brute strength, wide shoulders, and large, graceless feet. Out of everyone on their entire Force Recon team, JD was the least stealthy. Aberlour didn’t comment on their dancing, however. He simply smiled and enjoyed the entertainment on the dance floor.
“Yeah, you’re right about that,” Oliver muttered uncertainly.
The world was full of distractions, the alcohol running through his veins not the least of them. Between the music, dancing, talking, and laughing, Abe barely caught the words, let alone their meaning.
Oliver looked smug as Abe turned to him. He’d propped one booted foot on a table leg and was spinning the bottle of beer around in his hands.
“College girls in pubs not good enough for you?”
Oliver looked back at him then, his familiar gaze holding an unfamiliar query.
“Guess not,” was all Abe got.
He considered egging him on further, but he was groggy from the booze, and lethargic with fatigue. Instead, Aberlour switched his focus back to JD, watching as their bear of a brother attempted to sway to the music. The pretty brunette didn’t seem to mind. Her smile was wide and charming, and her eyes traced JD’s features hungrily.
“You still coming over tomorrow to help me move?” Oliver asked, after a bit.
Aberlour turned to face his friend, finding an odd expression on Oli’s face. A bitter, almost annoyed one. It was gone a second later.
“’Course,” he assured Oli with a nod. “Doubt any of those idiots will, though.”
Oliver snorted in agreement and pushed Aberlour’s chair again. Abe turned to look at him, one eyebrow cocked.
“You and I’ll get it done in no time,” he said, smiling confidently. “I’ll pay for the pizza and beer.”
Aberlour rolled his eyes. He didn’t need a bribe to help his best friend. He’d volunteer for whatever task Oliver required help with. Whether moving a couch or hiding a body. Besides, he had no other plans and digging graves was good exercise.
“It’s nice to be back,” Oliver said, his voice fainter, like he’d meant for that to remain an inner thought.
“You regretting the move to Recon?” Aberlour dared to ask, one eyebrow raised. He didn’t think Oliver would ever admit to it, even if that was the case, but Aberlour had to admit he’d been relieved, if not a little bit shocked, when Oliver had agreed to follow him down their nutjob path of a career choice. They’d just finished their first six-month deployment after finishing their training to become Force Recon Marines. While they’d allbeen beaming with pride at the start, the heaviness of the job had been firmly anchored to their shoulders by the time they’d stepped back on American soil.
“No,” Oliver said, with a shake of his head and a determined expression that Aberlour clung to with a hopeful kind of desperation. “But it feels good to be—” he hesitated, “it feels good not to be looking over my shoulder every four seconds.”
“Hmm,” Aberlour agreed because he’d been thinking the same thing just a few minutes earlier. And a part of him was almost sick with relief to know Oliver didn’t regret his choices. He didn’t have any words for that.
“Think it ever gets easier?” Oliver asked, sounding genuinely curious.
The song had changed, and JD was now grinding against the pretty brunette rather than gently swaying. He was no better at that either, but the sight made Aberlour snicker.
“What? Keeping your guard up? Or letting it down again?” Aberlour asked his best friend.
“Both. Either. Take your pick,” Oliver said, crossing his arms over his chest and pushing back against Aberlour’s chair rhythmically so he could tip his own back in a seesaw motion that every one of his old schoolteachers would have scolded him for.
“No,” Aberlour replied, honestly. “To both.”
“You’re a depressing motherfucker, you know that?” Oliver asked him, shaking his head, but clearly amused.
“That’s why you love me,” Aberlour answered with a vague shrug and a yawn. The beer was hitting him. Or maybe it was the six months of sleeping with one eye open. Hard to tell.
“Do I?” Oliver asked doubtfully, but when Aberlour turned to stare at his friend, Oliver’s expression gave him away.
“You’re a terrible liar, Darling,” Aberlour replied, rolling his eyes.
Oliver shrugged off Aberlour’s suddenly intense look and abruptly changed the subject.
“I can’t wait to have my own house,” Oliver said, not for the first time. He was looking at JD again. Their brother and the brunette were now making out on the dance floor, and Aberlour doubted they’d make it back to her place before they devoured each other.
“Tired of sleeping with a pillow on your head to block out the moaning?” Aberlour guessed, because sharing a room with JD had to be hell.
