And worse—it was tangled up with things he didn’t like thinking about.
Elliot had expected the subject of his father to come up eventually, but he’d hoped to put it off a little longer. He didn’t have the energy for it—the jokes, the assumptions,the look.Usually people assumed he didn’t earn his place, or they kissed his ass to get on The General’s good side. He wanted neither.
Fucking Hale for sticking his nose in his business.
He straightened, breathing carefully through his nose.
This was stupid. This was exactly the kind of distraction he couldn't afford. Not here. Not with someone he had to work with every single day under constant scrutiny.
Elliot glanced down. His dick clearly hadn’t gotten the memo.
God damn it. Hale wasn’t even his type.
He turned the water colder and stayed there until the shock cut through the fog in his head. He should get out. Get dressed. Go back to the barracks and sleep, but he couldn’t move.
Instead his hand trailed down his body.
He'd sleep better if he just dealt with it, got it out of his system so he could think clearly. That was all it was.
He wrapped a hand around himself and closed his eyes. His mind went to Hale's voice, amused in the dark. His curious blue eyes. The sight of him leaning against the fence pole, shoulders loose, completely at ease in his own skin.
Then he thought about how Hale's mouth would feel on his body. Or even on his?—
Ah.
Elliot came with his forehead pressed against the tile, teeth set, biting back the sound trying to escape. He remained there, water beating down on his shoulders, and tried to convince himself it had solved everything.
Shutting off the water and reaching for his towel, he avoided his reflection in the mirror.
By the time he made it back to the barracks, the lights were already off. Hale's bunk was down the aisle, too far to see in the dark, but Elliot felt his presence.
"Night," Hale said discreetly when Elliot passed.
Elliot's steps almost faltered. He hadn't realized Hale was still awake. "Night," he replied, voice neutral.
He lay down and stared at the bunk above him, listening to the sound of sleep closing in around him. His body was exhausted. His mind should have been too.
But Hale was ten feet away, awake in the dark, and Elliot had just gotten off thinking about him.
He had to solve this. Contain it the way he contained everything else, before it became something he couldn’t.
CHAPTER FIVE
HUDSON
Hudson wokeup feeling like he’d been hit by a truck. Twice.
The week had been brutal. Hours of combat drills, navigation runs with full packs, more drills, followed by a six-hour night watch. He catalogued the damage.
Shoulders—fucked. Back—worse. Knees—he didn’t even want to think about the knees.
Getting out of bed would require a coordinated effort from multiple body parts that currently wanted nothing to do with each other.
A few bunks down, a long, suffering groan made Hudson’s insides curl. At least he wasn’t alone.
“Jesus Christ,” a voice muttered. “Is this what forty feels like, Novak?”
“Fuck off,” Novak responded. “I’m thirty-one.”
