by Aiden Bates
Roman really wasn’t a good liar even when he wasn’t muzzy from drinking, and he wasn’t a very good prevaricator either. This wasn’t the kind of promotion someone celebrated. This kind of promotion was only understood as a good thing in the military. Sure, you’d climb to a new rank and possibly a new pay scale, but only in exchange for giving even more of yourself to the military in ever more demanding situations.
“Where?” I asked quietly and as neutrally as I could.
“Montana.”
My eyebrows shot to my hairline and I couldn’t help the dry, sardonic chuckle that escaped me. Roman looked at me like maybe I’d lost it.
“He does know, Ro. He knows and he’s sending you away.”
“I don’t think so. I get the feeling that if he knew and this transfer was about that, he’d be sending me to the world’s armpit somewhere. The assignment is alright. It’s good. It’s just, you know… In Montana.”
So Roman was thinking of the transfer as a positive change, like a career advancement, and I suspected that outweighed the negative aspects, like leaving me. In any other circumstance I would have been pleased that Roman was able to get ahead doing what he loved—except this one. Montana? Seriously? An idea struck me, an improbable and likely irresponsible one but a desperate one that could be the only hope of avoiding this, maybe.
“Tell him you’d rather not,” I suggested.
“Tell him I’d rather not?” Roman smiled falteringly as though he wasn’t sure whether such a ridiculous idea was meant to be a joke.
It wasn’t. I was deadly serious.
“Boy, you must have lost your goddamn mind. You know better than—”
“I do,” I said before he attempted to explain how military promotions worked. “Don’t patronize me. Everyone in the military likes to pretend these things are etched-in-stone and objective, but they’re not, they’re subjective. If this is Dad’s idea, then Dad has the power to recommend you for the transfer or to not recommend you. Tell him you’d rather not. He’ll growl and cuss but ultimately, you were Jason’s friend and he likes being your supervisor. He’ll show you leniency, and if anything can keep you from transferring to Montana, it’s him. So, tell him.”
Roman blinked and tilted his head to the side in apparent concession that, no, I hadn’t completely lost my mind and that maybe what I was proposing was at least plausible.
“Okay. Well, that’s still a hell of a long shot, you know? I mean if he thought I was talking crazy and recommended me anyway, I’m under contract and I’d have to go no matter how I felt about it. Or he might not recommend me, but he might make my life here in Fort Greene a living hell for the next four years. Even officers are supposed to ask how high when they tell us to jump. That’s going to smell like insubordination to your Daddy and he—oh, man—he is not going to like that.”
Roman suddenly sniggered, seemingly at the idea of ever finding himself in a situation where my Dad judged him as insubordinate, and what that would ultimately mean for Roman.
“I mean, maybe if they were trying to do something just fucking awful to me, maybe I might think about doing what you’re saying. But it’s a good job. And Montana’s pretty. You might like it, you know, if…” Roman shrugged, like it was just an idea. No big deal.
The world abruptly felt like it had ground to a screeching halt. The entire time we’d been having this conversation, I was operating under the assumption that Roman was trying to tell me he was being sent to Montana against his wishes, and if he had to go it meant the end for us or, alternatively, he was happy about being sent to Montana, but that still spelled the end for us.
Whether I would or would not like Montana factored into neither of those two scenarios, which forced me to realize that Roman was actually having a very different conversation with me. I was trying to get him to stay, Roman was asking me to consider moving with him, which might have been a good thing, a great thing, considering we were having a baby, but I was stuck on the idea he was talking about Montana.
“I might like it? I might like Montana because it’s pretty?” I remarked, completely disconcerted at Roman’s unmitigated temerity to sit there on the couch, still a little buzzed, and to casually suggest that I should pack up and follow him to Montana. Because it was pretty. “Did the prettiness of Montana factor into your career decisions, Ro?”
“Nothing factored into my decision ’cause—I think I mentioned—it ain’t much of a decision. What’s gotten into you, anyway? I was trying to say—”
“You were trying to say I should get my suitcase and follow you up to Montana because it’s pretty and I might like it there. But you’ve completely forgotten that Montana, whether or not the mountains are crisp in the fall or the flowers carpet over everything in June, doesn’t have a goddamn software contractor for the United States Department of Defense!”
My words came out in an angry, choppy, long string before I jerked up off the couch and started pacing.
“What the hell would I do if I did follow you up there, what the hell would I do with myself? How would I live?”
“Now, listen, babe. Settle down,” Roman said, leaning forward and watching me pace. “Part of what I like about this whole idea is the fact that when Master Sergeant Conroy retires—the guy who runs basic up there—your daddy said I could probably just slide in and take over for Conroy. That’d be another raise. I could really take care of us if you wanted to—”
“Ha!” I barked as I crossed my arms and picked up speed back and forth across the living room. “Number one, I’m sure you could take care of us, but I’m not in the market for anyone to take care of me. Number two, I mean what would I do with my life? My future?”
I turned to look at him to see if he could offer any ready explanation of what I was meant to do about my career if I did go with him. It wasn’t exactly a fair thing to do. I mean, if I didn’t have any answers, Roman certainly wasn’t going to have them.
“Well, I think the future’s sort of obvious,” Roman said as his gaze—whether voluntarily or involuntarily, it didn’t matter to me—lowered to my midsection. “Ain’t it?” he asked.
“Fucking what?” I yelled in exasperation. “Who in the hell do you think you’re talking to? The future is obvious? Yeah, I guess maybe for you. You do the right thing, you get shotgun married to me, and the three of us, you, me and the baby move up to Montana so you can accept this transfer you obviously want. In a few months, I have one husband, one baby, and absolutely nowhere to work or anything else to do with myself and then, what? What, then? I stay at home and watch the baby because it’s more expensive to have me try to work, and then the baby gets old enough to go to school, so now I’m home alone for most of the day with nothing to do except keep house for you and do errands. So, what else do I do? What are the other military omegas doing? Oh, of course! Another baby! That’ll fill the empty nest and the meaningless void my life is descending into! And when that one grows? Another baby! Until there’s four of them and I’m middle aged and haven’t done anything with my life!” By now my tone had turned into a hysterically sarcastic cheerfulness.
“Who’s telling you to do that? Who do you think you’re talking to?”
Roman was beginning to get agitated himself as, no longer content to watch me from the couch, he got to his own feet in apparent anger. I padded farther away from him, wanting to put distance between him and myself.
“You’re acting like I’m telling you that you can’t ever leave the house or work ever again! Ain’t they got computers in Montana?”
“Oh my god, Roman! Yes! Yes, they do have computers in Montana. What they don’t have is literally what I said earlier, a defense contractor. Do you think my job is just substitutable with any programmer? With, like, just a computer store? Do you think I can sell motherboards out of the basement and that’s roughly the same thing I’m doing now?”
“I didn’t say that! I didn’t say—”
“It’s not a job, Roman. It’s the same thin
g you have. It’s a career. Specifically, with a company that would be invested in me finishing this simulator. Yes, I’m pregnant, and yes, it’s fine, but this project? This simulator? This simulator is my baby. It’s my legacy. It’s probably the most important thing I’m going to leave behind when I’m dead. This simulator is supposed to save lives and keep people from getting injured, and even though it should have existed before you and Garret got hurt and before my brother fucking died, it only exists now because of me! I can’t go anywhere knowing I’m walking away from the potential to create that for the world! How am I supposed to cut sandwiches into neat triangles for the PTA for the rest of my life knowing other Jasons and other Garrets and other men like you are out there suffering because I wanted to move to Montana with you?”
“If you want to move with me, then just say so! Or if you don’t, then say that! But unless I’ve been really misunderstanding everything you’ve told me about work, it doesn’t sound like you’re getting much of an opportunity to pitch your simulator at SynergyNow or anywhere else in Fort Greene, so don’t make it out to be like staying here is so great for you either!” Roman didn’t usually get mad and hardly ever yelled, but I could see he was growing frustrated with the situation and possibly with me.
The statement stopped me dead in my tracks. Holy shit, Roman had been listening. Of course he had. He was an amazing listener. And he was right. I was acting as though my career was secure when in reality I’d been demoted, and every day was a new reason to worry about being fired altogether. SynergyNow could easily not give a shit about my simulator or unethically attribute it to Wilcox. What was the point in being so worked up about defending something that didn’t stand up for me or particularly care for me when the chips were down?
Goddamn him, he was right. Roman was brilliantly and absolutely right.
“And, don’t sound so hateful about having babies with me. Unless you really don’t want to come, I guess,” Roman said in something of a sulk. He sat back down onto the couch and crossed his arms.
The sulk made him look like a little boy who wasn’t getting his way and was trying not to throw too bad of a fit over it. It endeared me to him just enough to pull me back from all the assumptions I’d made over the last few minutes. I didn’t want to fight with Roman, not now, not ever, and especially not after how exhausting our argument had been. I took a deep breath.
“If you go somewhere, I want to go with you. I just don’t want to go somewhere that won’t allow me to be me.”
“Well then, fine,” Roman said, still huffy but clearly accepting my assurances and ultimatum for what they were; sincere and with little compromise.
“Fine?” I asked, wanting to make sure his fine and mine were the same.
“We’ll do what you said. We’ll try and change your dad’s mind about the transfer and see if that works. But he’s going to need a reason. An explanation for why I don’t want to transfer. And if it has a snowball’s chance of hell in working, it’s going to have to be a pretty good goddamn reason.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. True, this was a much more subdued form of arguing, but it was no less serious. “Not yet. We can’t tell him yet. We can’t tell anyone yet. I know we have to eventually, but just… I don’t know… Let me figure what I’m doing. What I want. I just… I need time, Ro.”
Roman nodded. To me, it seemed it was less because he understood why I needed time and more as an indication that he wouldn’t say anything until I gave him the go-ahead. He was on-board with me though, even if he didn’t fully understand. It was easy to forget in a fight, but ultimately that was Roman for you, always in my corner, no matter what.
He reached for my hand and grasped it tightly in his. The warmth and size of his hand compared to mine made it a deeply reassuring gesture, one that promised we were going to be in it together, regardless of what happened. I squeezed his hand in acceptance of the sentiment, and he leaned over and ventured a kiss more conciliatory than romantic in nature, but a kiss nonetheless.
“It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure it out. You always figure something out and I’m not leaving you behind or forcing you into anything you don’t want to do, okay?”
I listened to Roman’s promises and nodded to show I was fine, I wasn’t angry anymore, just tired, and that we were okay. In my own sort of peace offering, I leaned toward him to peck at his cheek and then patted our clasped hands together with my free hand.
“Thanks, Ro. I appreciate it.” And I did appreciate it. However, I couldn’t help noticing how similar this conversation was to the one we’d had before Roman first deployed.
I’d lost my temper, Roman calmed me down, then he’d made promises that things were going to be okay, my heart had tugged at me to believe him, but eventually, ultimately, we disappointed each other.
Thus far, we’d conformed to the same pattern precisely. I wanted to believe things were going to be okay, but as Roman got up to fix himself something to eat, seemingly satisfied the fight was over, what were the chances we wouldn’t repeat it all again?
19
Roman
When I woke up, something was different. Teddy’s back was to me, and I could tell from his even, deep breaths he was still sleeping. I lay on my back for a few seconds, watching the dust motes in the room swirl in the morning sunlight before I realized what was different.
Daylight. Shit. My muscles jerked as it hit me. My first instinct was to jump out of bed as quickly as I could and run all the way to base if I had to, until my brain caught up with me and reminded me it was Saturday, and I relaxed again into the pillows.
“Forgot it was Saturday, didn’t you?” a sleepy voice said from beside me. Teddy didn’t bother opening his eyes, just yawned and rolled over to burrow into my chest, his thigh slung across my legs. Now the initial panic was out of the way, I focused on my improved viewing options. Teddy’s dark eyelashes splashed across his cheeks, and there was a faint flush to his sleep-warmed skin. He was pressed against me now, and not for the first time I was appreciative of Teddy’s sometime habit of sleeping naked. His spicy, sweet scent was everywhere, and it wasn’t difficult to imagine all that pale skin on display, his blush from lust instead of rest.
“You’re fantasizing too loud,” Teddy whined, cracking one bright brown eye to look up at me. “It’s waking me up.”
“Says who? I’d say I’m fantasizing at just the right volume.” I skimmed my hand down from the back of his neck and down the bumps of his spine. I could feel the smile he pressed into my skin. Little liar. “I can think of even better ways of waking you up.”
Teddy huffed. “That remains to be seen.”
“Is that a challenge?” I asked.
“Depends,” Teddy said, raising his head. His eyes were open now, and I could see the mischievous twinkle they sometimes got when he was in a truly excellent mood. “You up for it?”
“I’d say I’m definitely up for it.”
“Ugh,” Teddy groaned. “That was so bad. You’re the worst. Already with the dad jokes.”
“I gotta start early, Teddy. I’m not a bright man. It’s gonna take me a minute to think up zingers,” I explained. I shifted my body to roll us over so Teddy was pinned beneath me. “Now, hush. I need to focus on something else just now.”
“Oh? What’s that?” he asked. I could tell he was trying to keep his voice even and measured, but it was already a little breathy, like when Teddy was aching for me.
“You. Specifically, how to get that big brain of yours to glitch and go offline,” I answered.
“‘Glitch and go offline?’ My, you have been paying some attention when I talk.”
“I always pay attention when you talk. I just don’t hardly know what the hell it is you’re talking about. Now, are you gonna sit back and let me see to you?”
Teddy cocked his head, and I could still see the challenge there in his smirk, but instead he settled back, burrowing a little deeper into the pillows.
“I suppo
se. Growing a baby is hard work, after all.”
“That’s right, sweetheart. Now just relax.”
I made my way down his body, stopping occasionally at the places I knew made Teddy squirm. He sighed as I nibbled at his hip bone, my tongue following the seam where his leg met his torso and groin. He smelled earthy, and I filled my nose with his fragrance before lapping at the inside of his thigh. He jolted but settled again with a heavy sigh. I figured he was waiting on me to stop teasing him and take his cock into my mouth, but I had a different destination in mind.
I rearranged him, putting his legs on either of my shoulders and bore his weight.
“What are you—Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god. Yesss.” The last word he hissed like a snake as I lapped down past his balls to his entrance. That’s where I focused on my goal, sucking and tonguing at the furled skin as Teddy moaned. I worked the tight ring of muscle until I began to feel it soften slightly, and then I eased first the tip and then more and more of my tongue inside him. Teddy, by this point was communicating only in a string of broken sighs and growls, searching for leverage with his hips in order to work himself further onto my mouth.
My cock was begging for some sort of attention, but all I could do was uselessly rut into the mattress as I continued fucking him with my tongue.
“Roman, I need. Fuck, I-I need…” Teddy didn’t finish his statement. Instead cooing as my pointer finger slipped in to tease at his prostate.
“Hmm? What was that? Come on. Use your words.”
“Ugh, you… You’re the worst. Please, Ro. Please.”
“What do you want? All you have to do is ask,” I said before again lapping at his entrance as it clung around the base of my finger.
“You, I want you. God. Just fuck me already.”
I lifted up to reach for the lube, and as soon as I was slicked up, Teddy grabbed my cock and started guiding it. I watched helplessly as my cockhead slipped inside him, groaning at the tight entry. He was hot and silky soft around me.
