"Hale," Shaw said into the darkness.
Hudson’s eyes snapped open. "What?"
A long pause. “Nothing. Go to sleep."
"Yeah. Okay. See you in the morning."
Hudson stared at the ceiling of the shelter. What a huge fucking mess.
Shaw had looked at him before the kiss like Hudson was something he wanted. And dammit, Hudson had wanted it too. That was the problem.
Tomorrow they'd get extracted and go back to base and pretend this never happened. That was the plan. That was what made sense.
So why did the thought make him feel hollow?
When he finally drifted off, it was with Shaw's warmth pressed against his side and the taste of him lingering on his tongue.
CHAPTER TEN
ELLIOT
Elliot waiteduntil the barracks cleared before heading to the showers. Timed just before dinner, so he'd have space and wouldn't have to make conversation.
The locker room was empty when he walked in.Parfait!
It’d been a week since that night in the shelter. Seven days of meticulous avoidance. Elliot timed his meals to miss Hale’s. Chose the farthest training station. Kept his eyes forward during formation and never, ever let his gaze drift two spots to the right.
Elliot excelled at avoidance. He'd had years of practice.
What he couldn’t control—what he'd never had to control—was wanting someone more than once.
He'd been with men plenty of times before, anonymous encounters on leave, quick and forgettable. No names, no second meetings, nothing that followed him back to base. Always more than enough.
Elliot never went back to the same guy. Butfuckdid he want to go back now.
He stripped efficiently, folded his clothes, and wrappeda towel around his waist. When the water ran almost scalding hot, he stepped under the spray.
The details kept replaying. The sound Hale had made when Elliot's mouth first closed around him. An almost painful growl. How his hands shook, reaching for Elliot's belt. His warm tongue. The heat.
Let it go.Hale had made it clear: not gay.
Except his body told a different story. Responded to every touch. Leaned into it. Shattered and wanting more even as he denied it.
Elliot knew what desire looked like. He just wasn't sure Hale did.
Hale had barely glanced in Elliot’s direction this week, and when he had, his expression stayed blank.
It was fine. Better, even. Easier to move on if Hale wanted to pretend it never happened.
As always, the heat of the shower helped. It beat down on his shoulders, washing away the day's tension, the week's careful control. Alone, finally, he could let his guard down. Could stop monitoring every movement, every glance, every?—
The door opened.
Elliot stiffened, hand braced against the tile, water running down his back. He didn't turn around. Didn't need to. He knew the rhythm of those footsteps.
Hale came to a stop. Elliot heard a sudden intake of breath. Felt the weight of his stare.
Merde.
