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“Hopefully not.” His mouth twisted, frown deepening as I started soaping his broad back. “I’d rather not put you through this again. And you don’t need to wash me.”
“Yeah, but I’m going to.” I went right ahead, lathering his neck and shoulders, using my thumb to work out the knots. “You took care of me earlier. Let me do the same now.”
“I’m not up for—”
“Not sex, doofus. I mean, let me be the nice one for a change.”
“You’re always nice.” He offered me the ghost of a smile.
“Ha. We both know you’re the one with manners, but thank you.” I turned him so I could soap his chest, then stepped aside to let him handle the shampoo.
“Yeah, okay. You were right. This feels good. Thank you. I needed this.” He turned so the spray hit us more or less evenly.
“See? I do have good ideas sometimes.”
“Only sometimes.” He cuddled up to me from behind. There was a certain familiarity, like we now had a shared history and a promise of more. Plans. For once, the thought of something more with Malik soothed me more than it terrified me.
“Next time you have one of these—”
He released me to exit the shower. “Not gonna happen. I’ve got… Fuck! That’s what happened. I forgot my meds after we…”
“After you stole both our common sense with your sex wizardry?” I was trying to make him laugh, but it didn’t work.
“This is all my fault. Pretty sure this is the second night I forgot the meds. No wonder I freaked the fuck out.”
“Oh, I think those stupendous orgasms were both our faults.” I grabbed a towel and dried off his back which was all tense again. “I’m the sex serpent, remember?”
That got a tiny smile. “You are that. But still—”
“No self-blame. I’m apparently the kinky one into spanking, but don’t think I can’t smack you for being mean to yourself.” My gruff tone made his smile wider, but I wasn’t done. “This isn’t your fault. Next time, we’ll set a phone alarm for your meds so we don’t forget after we come our brains out.”
“Next time?” He pursed his lips as he dried off his front side.
“Told you. I’ve got plans.” I glanced purposefully down at his dick. No round two tonight, but there would be other opportunities, and apparently, he needed the reminder.
“Even after seeing me all sloppy?”
I swatted him lightly on the ass. “Don’t make me mad, acting like you got drunk or something preventable. You had a nightmare. Hell yes, I still want more sex with you. Maybe even more so now.”
“How do you figure that?” Done drying off, he began brushing his teeth.
“Seeing you upset…there’s a realness to it.” I dried myself while wishing I was better at explaining the way my ribs ached from all the churning emotions I didn’t have names for. “And I like the chance to take care of you. Most of the time, it’s the other way around—
“Which is how I like it.” He set his toothbrush back in its holder with a decisive click.
“I know, Lieutenant, I know. And you’re damn good at it, but sometimes it’s nice to be needed and not always be the one falling apart.”
“I’d take falling apart a little less.” Groaning, he leaned his head against the wall by the sink.
“Wouldn’t we all.” I kissed his neck softly before bundling him back to the other bed and grabbing some covers from the floor.
“Thank you for not asking what the dream was about,” he said as I tried to make us all cozy again. “L—other people are always big on trying to make me talk after.”
“You can tell me if you need to or let it fade away. You won’t shock me if you do want to talk about it, but I’m not gonna make you either.”
He went quiet for a long moment, then whispered, “The dreams are all variations on the same theme—standing by helpless as increasingly terrible things happen.”
“That must be so scary for you.” I wasn’t sure exactly what to say, but if he needed to talk, I wanted him to know I was listening.
“It is. I yell and I yell, and it never makes a bit of difference.” Malik’s eyes filled with tears, and I held him tight. “Fuck. Now I’m crying. This is why I try not to talk about the dreams.”
“That’s fucked-up logic.” I squeezed him closer. “If it helps you to talk, you should talk. You think you’re the only dude in special forces to cry over a dream? Or a mission gone wrong, for that matter?”
“Why do you sound so much like me tonight?” He snuffled into the pillow.
“Because you’re smart about these things. It doesn’t make you any less of a lieutenant or a man or anything else if you let it out and cry. It’s hard as fuck out there in the field. Why do you think Harley’s always on guys to get counseling and help? Everyone’s got their own shit to shovel.”
