Courting- 15 Years of Life Read online

  Josh feels like he’s come undone as he winds around Garrison’s warmth, drawing his knees up against Garrison’s sides and feeling like he’s exposing himself somehow. He doesn’t even protest when Garrison rolls them over so he can run soothing hands over Josh’s back and flank, Josh kneeling over him, head tucked under Garrison’s chin.

  The sound of the oven timer makes Garrison startle and growl, but Josh doesn’t react. Gently, Garrison moves until Josh slides down onto the bed, and he lets Garrison tuck the comforter around him before he leaves the bed. Josh lies there waiting for his breathing to even out and his heart to stop racing. The shivers slowly die down.

  Buck ass naked and perfunctorily cleaned up, Garrison comes back into the bedroom with two bottles of water and a slightly distracted expression. He sits against the headboard, and Josh grumbles at having to sit up, too, but soon finds himself in the vee of Garrison’s legs, hugged to Garrison’s chest.

  “Here, drink this,” Garrison orders softly, opening a water bottle for Josh, some water dripping on the comforter in front of them. “The lasagna’s cooling on the counter, so we have some time to clean up first.”

  Josh blinks and sips the water. He realizes after a few sips that he’s ridiculously thirsty and chugs it empty. Garrison has the second bottle open and ready.

  “Are you alright?” Garrison asks softly, rubbing Josh’s side through the comforter.

  It takes two tries, but Josh manages to respond, “Yeah. I-- Yeah. You?”

  Garrison chuckles, “I think I’m more than alright. But that got pretty…”

  Josh makes an inquisitive noise when Garrison stops.

  “Intense,” Garrison finally says. “It was unexpected, but not, I hope, unwanted…”

  He trails off and it takes Josh a moment to realize what he’s asking.

  “Yeah, no. That was great. I’m just--” He waves the hand holding the water bottle, then sighs and slumps into Garrison’s broad shoulder, nuzzling his neck. “I’m great.”

  “Good,” Garrison says and fully relaxes into the bed. He lifts Josh’s free hand to examine his wrist. “Might have a bruise or two, babe.”

  Josh grins at the pet name. They haven’t really used them much, afraid of slipping up in mixed company.

  “Marines don’t bruise easily.”

  Garrison gives a bark of laughter. “That we don’t.”

  They stay entwined like that, Garrison breathing deep and even against the back of Josh’s neck, until Josh has synched his breathing, too. Garrison kisses his neck, and reluctantly pulls away.

  “C’mon,” he says softly. “Let’s go eat.”

  Josh complies with a bit of grumbling for show, but not wanting Garrison’s sudden solicitousness to include bringing him dinner in bed. Part of him feels brittle, like he might shatter, while another part just feels… whole.

  : : :

  Josh feels like he’s slightly off-centered through most of the next day.

  Dinner that night is a huge serving of take out Chinese, courtesy of Garrison, and mostly all of Josh’s favorite dishes. He tries not to read too much into it.

  He had taken the leftover lasagna to work and had to explain fifty million times that he just heated up a frozen dinner, no hidden girlfriend cooking for him or single moms in the building trying to woo him. The guys in his squad had gotten creative in their guessing, mostly because Josh has a reputation for eating protein bars for lunch.

  “We might need to cook more often,” is all Josh has to say of the ribbing to Garrison, who raises an eyebrow and knows exactly what he means.

  “Marines are gossipier than a group of high-schoolers after prom night.”

  Josh shrugs, not disputing that at all.

  “Speaking of Marines, seeing as we both currently are,” Garrison says with a wry grin as he serves himself more rice from one of the containers. “My end of service is in three months, and I need to--”

  “That soon?” Josh interrupts in shock.

  “Yes.” Garrison levels a look at him, and Josh finds it hard to swallow his orange chicken. “I told you when we first started dating that I had put in my separation papers.”

  “I know. Just. That’s--”

  Garrison keeps looking at him with that steady gaze, and Josh realizes he doesn’t know why he’s starting to make a fuss. Garrison had told him. He knows his boyfriend is leaving the Corps; Garrison had dropped his papers months before Josh had met him.

  “I’m going to have quite a few appointments over the next month or so,” Garrison continues, returning his gaze to his plate, tone more subdued.

  Josh pokes at his own plate. They may be eating take out but heaven forbid they don’t use real dishes for it, because Garrison cares about making their apartment more than just a pit stop and storage shed between deployments. Garrison thinks of things like that, all the stuff Josh never notices he misses until it’s there for him.

  “Do you need help with anything?” Josh finally thinks to ask, realizing that Garrison is expecting a response from him.

  Garrison’s entire posture softens, his smile small but genuine. “No, but thank you.”

  “Just let me know,” Josh says more firmly. He wants to be supportive. He may not have any experience when it comes to a serious relationship, but he’s trying.

  After dinner, they clean up the dishes, hand washing because they didn’t cook, and Josh feels unsettled in his own skin. He thinks it might be from talk of the huge life change looming on the horizon -- six months in, two months living together and already his world is going to upend again -- but then he’s also not sure that’s it.

  Garrison hands him a plate to dry, and Josh is okay with the brush of their fingers, but then he’s not okay with Garrison bumping him in the hip.

  He’s still feeling raw from the night before. Not, like, physically, even though he has some marks and extra twinges. Throughout the day, he’s had moments where he’d just remember Garrison’s fingers or voice or the scent of him, and he’d be so distracted, he couldn’t pay attention to his training class.

  Garrison passes over the last of the silverware, then wipes down the counter and sets everything to rights as Josh puts away the forks. When Garrison stops to rest against the counter edge with his arms crossed to show off the muscles of his forearms and shoulders in a display that would normally have Josh climbing him like a tree, Josh just-- doesn’t want to, and that utterly confuses him.

  When Josh starts to reach out but then drops his hand, Garrison frowns and catches his fingers lightly. Josh takes a steadying breath.

  “Can we watch a movie?”

  “Sure, babe,” Garrison says, and guides him to the couch. “What are you in the mood for?”

  Josh searches their movie shelf for something that isn’t too gory or emotional, more like something familiar, and can only suggest, “Pirates of the Caribbean?”

  Garrison raises an eyebrow but puts the DVD in without complaint, then comes to sit on the couch where he always does; on the opposite end. Josh debates with himself for a few seconds before moving to the middle of the couch, pressed tight against Garrison’s side.

  He feels clingy. He’s not the one who usually instigates touching between them, and he knows that. Garrison’s commented on it before and neither of them are bothered by it. It’s just how Josh is, but this feeling is different. He likes how Garrison had held him the night before, after. He wants that again.

  Garrison doesn’t say anything, though, just wraps his arm around Josh’s shoulders, and they manage to fit the bulk of two men over six feet each on the couch without falling off. Josh relaxes into Garrison’s embrace and lets his head lower until he can hear Garrison’s heartbeat under his ear.

  Josh lets everything else go and drifts off.

  : : :

  A couple weeks pass after that hot and confusing night, and their sex stays pretty vanilla, mostly hand jobs and sucking each other off if they’re not too tired. Garrison has a ridiculous amount of appointments for all sorts of issues from health care to education benefits, and then interviews with companies looking to hire vets, and a lot of forms to fill out that make him cranky.

  Josh just tries to settle back into his own skin. He feels different. Not bad different; he’s not going to start sleeping in the spare bedroom that’s technically “his” if anyone asks. But he’s not sure if this is a good different, either. Rather than stew in his muddle of emotions, he focuses on being the best roommate and boyfriend Garrison can ask for, even if that means leaving the cooking up to Garrison. Neither of them want food poisoning after all.

  He comes out of the bedroom one morning to find Garrison at the stove in his dress slacks and undershirt, stirring a pan of what looks to be eggs.

  Josh looks over at Garrison, struck again by his beauty, the planes of his face, his sharp cheekbones, his smile. Every time it’s like a kick in the gut, that this smart, hot guy is interested in Josh.

  “What was that?” Josh blinks.

  Garrison grins and repeats, with a nod of his head, “Would you like a coffee?”

  Josh looks and there’s a mug already steaming on the counter near him. “Yeah, thanks.”

  “It’s better than what they charge six dollars for down the street,” Garrison concedes. “But it’s still not Boston coffee.”

  Josh laughs into his mug. “I’m waiting for you to start importing in bulk. Maybe you can open a café after you’re out.”

  There, he just dropped that casually in conversation. He can do this.

  “Or I can move back up to the northeast where they know what good coffee tastes like,” Garrison says just as casually and Josh feels his stomach flip.

  “That’s an option,” Josh says for lack of anything better.

  Garrison eyes him as he stirs the eggs. “Have you ever thought about moving from here?”

  “Like, once I’m out?” Josh takes a moment to consider. “I was planning to re-enlist this year. The re-up bonuses are pretty ridiculous, so after another tour, I could have a good chunk set aside for a house somewhere cheap, I was thinking.”

  Licking his lips, Garrison keeps his eyes trained on the frying pan. “If you re-up, we’re guaranteed another deployment. Probably two.”

  Josh shrugs. “Survived the last two.”

  He can tell immediately that it’s the wrong thing to say when Garrison’s shoulders go tight. He knows he fucked up when Garrison says nonchalantly, “Well, at least we’re on file as roommates. If something happened to you, they’d have to inform me eventually.”

  Which headquarters would do since Josh has been disowned by his own family and has no other next of kin. Garrison doesn’t say that part out loud, but Josh realizes that there really aren’t any legal ties between him and Garrison, like literally. They can’t have any and still be in the Corps. The apartment is a two bedroom, with all of Josh’s things in the second room even though they sleep in Garrison’s room every night.

  If something happens to Josh – if he dies out there in the desert – no black SUV will roll into the neighborhood like a solemn procession, with officers respectfully, carefully relaying the news in person. Garrison will be lucky to get a phone call from Josh’s command, let alone any of his personal effects not left behind in the apartment.

  In two months, Garrison is going to be a civilian and it won’t look suspicious if they stay roommates for now. But in a year? Two years? If Josh has a permanent change of station again, Garrison can’t easily follow. Not without arousing suspicion. And does he want that cloud of anxiety, of being outed at any moment, following him around?

  Josh carefully sets his coffee down.

  That wasn’t just a question about Josh’s plans for his career. That was a question about his plans with Garrison, how he sees their future together.

  Josh swallows thickly and asks in a voice quieter than he wants it to be, “What do you think I should do? Should I re-up?”

  “I think it needs to be your decision,” Garrison says calmly, plating their eggs and sliding a dish over to Josh.

  Josh picks up his fork, and the silence between them feels awkward as they eat standing at the counter.

  He tries not to feel annoyed that Garrison would dodge the question and deflect it back on Josh. Josh is always willing to follow his lead, maybe too easily, but the moment he wants – asks – Garrison’s opinion, the man dodges him.

  “Guess I’ve got some thinking to do then,” he drawls, and eats his eggs without really tasting them.

  Garrison’s shoulders stay tense as Josh leaves the kitchen to go put on his own uniform.

  : : :

  The awkward tension lasts through the week, and if Josh thought he was turned upside down by one really intense round of sex, it’s nothing compared to how he feels now. The sex brittleness gets all roiled up in his head with the question--

  He doesn’t even know what question he’s tearing himself up about and come Friday, Josh still has no answers.

  It doesn’t help that everyone around him talks like it’s a given he’s re-upping, like he’d be crazy not to with his skillset in such a high demand during the current wartime, stop loss keeping guys on longer and longer. He’s already had his time extended under the policy, so he can leave if he wants to, if that’s what he decides to do.

  His own indecisiveness leaves him frustrated and pissy. He knows it. He knows Garrison has noticed and the way Garrison is giving him space, all respectful and non-pressuring and not providing any damn feedback makes Josh even more cranky.

  Friday night finds him in the spare bedroom -- Josh’s supposed room -- lifting his free weights like they’ve personally insulted him.

  Part of him wants to resent Garrison. Josh was happy enough in his life before Garrison came along. Josh has friends who don’t care when Josh declines to show interest in the ladies at the bars, when he doesn’t talk about seeing anyone or any future family plans. Guys like Taylor, Dustin and Gutierrez don’t ask because they are good people and if Josh doesn’t re-up then they’d be going out there without him on their six. He won’t be there to clear the next IED, or the one after, so they can go in and do their jobs without getting blown to hell. The thought of one of his brothers getting taken out because he wasn’t there, was too selfish to stay, tears Josh up inside.

  The Marines have poured so much time and money into his training to make him damn good at his job, and Garrison thinks Josh can just leave?

  Garrison is a lawyer. He has a few years on Josh; he’s put in his time in uniform and he has a riot of employers looking to hire him on as soon as he’s out.

  What does Josh have, if he doesn’t have the Marines?

  He’s from Nowhere, Ohio, with no home to go back to anymore. He tries to think of careers for demolition experts that don’t involve travelling as much, if not more, than the Corps. Why would he get out just to never be home again?

  That’s the question, though. Isn’t it?

  If he gets out, will he have a home? Will Garrison still be with him a year from now? Five? Is his relationship with Garrison worth throwing away his career, his guaranteed paycheck, and pretty much his entire way of life for the last six years?

  He lost his family over joining the Corps at eighteen, because he didn’t want to follow in his father’s footsteps. He wanted to be his own man. Will he lose Garrison if he leaves the Corps and discovers he isn’t anyone’s man, let alone his own?

  Josh reaches for the next heavier weight and starts doing aggressive arm curls.

  He never expected to go into ordinance disposal, but the bonus money is good and he likes the adrenaline rush of clearing an area. His plan has always been to put in his twenty, squirrel most of his paycheck away in savings, and then find himself a cheap place to retire to, where he could maybe start looking for somebody to share it with between fishing trips. Romance and relationships used to be some far-off dream that guys like him didn’t really get to have, so why waste time pining over it?

  He’s never been celibate, just discreet and careful. Garrison is the first guy he’s ever been tempted to stay for, and the fact that he’s here, in this apartment, shows how much he’s willing to put on the line. How much they both are.

  The weight hits the floor rack with a rattle. Josh stares at the neat row of numbers across the weights until they blur and still he doesn’t want to blink.

  It’s only been six months. How can he be sure after only six months?

  Instead of beating himself up with questions, he tries another tactic.

  Fact: Garrison is leaving the Corps. Fact: Josh will be stationed here for at least two more years if he re-ups. Fact: Garrison wants to have a career in public law, and that will limit his options for available jobs. Fact: Josh has a degree in psychology and knows how to blow shit up. That’s it.

  Assumption: Garrison will want to stay with Josh if one or both of them leave the Corps. Assumption: Josh will find gainful employment upon leaving the Corps. Assumption: Josh can be a functional adult outside of the Corps.

  Scrubbing at his face, he finally blinks and gives into the urge to fall back onto the mattress. Yes, he’s scared shitless of all of the above. So, what does he want?

  Not what, maybe. Maybe he should ask himself who? Who does he want to be, the man he is in the Corps or the man he is with Garrison? Is there a difference?

  Garrison.

  The thought of Garrison walking out the door and finding a life with someone else is enough to tear strips out of Josh’s heart. He’s so fucking afraid he won’t measure up, because Garrison is way above his pay grade, anyone with eyes can see that. Garrison has his life together, he has a plan, and he’s not going to wait another fifteen years for Josh to retire to start living his life out in the open.

  Josh knows that’s where this is going. Garrison won’t flaunt his gayness, but Josh can see the toll it takes on him to stay silent, to have to deny Josh’s existence, their relationship’s existence, on a daily basis. All those little micro-betrayals build up, and it doesn’t matter if Josh understands. Josh has to do the same thing. It still chafes and chokes, and Josh isn’t going to be the cage that traps Garrison in more lies. He won’t be able to live that way, and sooner or later Garrison will come to resent him for it.