by J. F. Smith
Matt felt a bittersweet thrill knowing Mope had been thinking about him. Maybe it was just out of concern for how he had fared since getting home, but it felt good.
Even though Matt had thought about what happened that night in Latakia a lot, he was ok with it. It had been scary, and he was still a little troubled by the fact that he had killed a guy, but he was coping as well as could be expected. He felt that a lot of that had to do with Mope getting him out of the van and making him focus on his eyes and his breathing instead of what had just happened. Matt was sure that he had Mope to thank for not being a post-traumatic disaster.
And he hadn’t had any bad dreams, either. He had been having the dream about being in the empty room, with the door open. Sometimes, while in the room, he would hear whispers that he couldn’t make out, but it had never seemed like a nightmare. He had always just felt sad in the dream and a little helpless despite the door being open. And now that he thought about it, he couldn’t remember having that dream in probably a week now.
“I’ve done ok, Mope, I think. Thanks to you. But I’ve really been alright.”
They had arrived in the park at this point, the concert still playing nearby. Matt felt like he needed to get it out in the open. It was tearing him up to not know.
“Uh… Mope? How did your visit with your dad go?”
Mope considered the question for a moment. “He told me you came to see him, Matt.”
“And?” Matt’s hands were shaking and Mope’s expression hadn’t veered from serious.
Mope seemed to have trouble answering, and his hand wiped nervously at his nose. He said, “And… and… Matt… for… shit… for the first time I can remember, he didn’t compare me to Chris. He… uh… he said I had done well.” Mope wiped his eyes with his sleeve quickly. “He said I had done well, Matt.”
The rockabilly song the band was playing sang out through the park.
The relief that washed over Matt was almost too much. He felt so lucky that he hadn’t fucked things up. He felt so glad that Mope’s father had listened, even just a little. Nobody in the world deserved it more than the man in front of him.
“It may not seem like much to most people, but that’s more than I’ve ever gotten from him before,” said Mope.
Mope suddenly stopped and turned to Matt. His face got even more serious than it was and his brow furrowed. “I need to know the truth about something, Matt. I don’t doubt that you’d be truthful with me, but you don’t know how important it is to me that you give me an honest answer right now.”
Matt waited, and Mope asked, “Is it true that you told my dad that even if I hadn’t saved your life, you’d have more respect and admiration for me than anyone you’ve ever met?”
Once again, Matt was incredibly relieved. He wondered why this was even a concern. He said, like it should be obvious, “Well, yeah, Mope.”
Mope’s lips tightened and he looked past Matt again.
Matt said, “I mean, you showed me what it means to have courage and to be brave. You showed me what it means to have people that you trust at your back and what you can do when you know you’ve got that. I don’t think I could even have imagined that on my own. It would be easy to say that what happened in Latakia changed me, Mope. But the truth is that you changed me. I may still be Matt Goodend, but I’m a different person than who arrived in Syria a month ago.”
Mope continued looking off in the distance, almost like he wasn’t paying attention, but Matt knew he was.
“As a matter of fact,” continued Matt, “it was because of what you helped me see in myself, and knowing I had my friends Bret and Jim there for me, that I broke up with Brian last week.”
Mope’s eyes snapped back to Matt. “You what?!”
“I broke up with him. I was an idiot for staying with him as long as I did. But better late than never for growing some balls, I guess. It’s still hard, though. I got weak and I almost thought about calling him, and then Brian came crawling back to me earlier tonight.” Matt chuckled lightly, “But he got scared off by a bunch of asshole Navy shiprats that don’t know how to call before dropping by.”
Mope seemed like he wasn’t quite listening again. He suddenly looked at Matt with a strange expression that Matt couldn’t read. There was a long silence between them that stretched out while Matt tried to figure out what Mope was thinking. Matt was about to ask when Mope said, “Look up, Matt.”
Matt looked up. It was a nice night. The band was playing nearby, people were in the park enjoying themselves, the moon was out, the air felt good. He said, “Yeah, it’s ok tonight. The moon’s nice, but you can’t see the stars like…” He had started to look back down at Mope just as Mope grabbed his head with both of his rough hands and kissed him hard.
The ground started spinning under Matt and he kissed Mope back, their tongues intertwining, the taste of Mope on Matt’s tongue, and the stubble on Mope’s face burning just slightly. Matt smelled Mope; the dark, masculine smell of the sea and cedar wood filled his nose and permanently fixed itself in Matt’s memories. Mope’s hands slid past until his strong arms fully wrapped around Matt’s head, completely encircling his every sense. There was nothing in Matt’s world but Mope’s lips, his stubbly chin, his nose, his thick arms, his breath, and that amazing smell. Matt wrapped his arms around Mope’s back, feeling the hard muscles underneath the thin t-shirt. Mope finally pulled back, put his hands back on Matt’s head, holding it gently, holding Matt’s eyes locked to his own. Mope held Matt’s gaze, searching to make sure he hadn’t overstepped a boundary with the kiss, wanting to see if Matt felt the same thing he was feeling. Only when Mope saw in Matt’s eyes that the feeling was fully returned to him did he relax.
Around them in the park, the music had changed. The band was starting a new song, one with a slow, gentle, pulsing beat. It had an almost haunting, ghostly quality to it. The steel guitar and fiddle and piano complemented each other as the singer sang of finding your way back.
Mope whispered, “Dance with me, Matt.”
Matt grinned shyly and said, “Here? Now?”
Mope almost begged while the singer crooned intimately behind him, “Please, Matt.”
‘Cause even in the time I’ve known you
It’s like you’re the back of my hand
And the time is short
To find your way through
But you’re the back of my hand
Matt put his arms around Mope’s midsection and they held each other. Mope’s cheek against Matt’s. They started swaying to the song, and Matt closed his eyes and marveled at how the world worked. Could he ever ask for anything more in his life than this moment?
Lord knows, it’s hard enough to tow the line
When you feel like you’ve lost your mind
Think of me and look up at the stars
And you’ll be fine
Just look at the stars and the sky they span
They lost themselves in the gentle sound of a song that felt like it was theirs alone. Matt felt Mope’s hand move up to the back of his head and hold him tightly. They swayed to the beat together underneath the springtime moon.
And you look up at the stars
And the sky they span
You’ll see that you understand
You’ll find your man
You’ll find your way home to me
‘Cause I’m the back of your hand
Mope’s stubble slowly dragged across Matt’s face until their lips were touching again. They floated on the kiss and the feel of their bodies pressed together.
As long as the stars
Occupy the sky
I’ll be here
I’ll be your man
Mmm… mmm… I’ll be here…
I’ll be the back of your hand
The song finally wound down to a stop and the crowd applauded and cheered appreciatively in the distance. Matt and Mope eventually realized the song had ended and found they weren’t even dancing anymore. All there had
been was the kiss between them, the rest of the world put on pause and in their pocket for a while.
Mope continued to hold Matt, their faces merely inches apart, but a sheepish smile spread over his face. Mope said, “Sorry, I really can’t dance.”
His eyes sparkled and he added in a rough whisper, “But, dear God, you make me want to.”
The light brush of Mope’s breath across Matt’s lips made him feel like he could fly around the park. Matt’s insides felt all tied up and tingly. The night had started out so bad, but had wound up somewhere completely unexpected. Somewhere wonderful. They walked back to Matt’s apartment, but Mope stopped him just outside.
“I’ve got something to give you. But I don’t want to give it to you inside your place. I’m not sure if it’ll be a good thing or not. You might not like it, and I’ll take it away if it bothers you.”
Matt had no idea what Mope was talking about and watched him curiously.
Mope reached into the back waistband of his pants and pulled out a handgun. He held it out to Matt, resting flat on his open palm.
Matt looked at it, the recognition hitting him.
Matt had killed another person with the gun held out in front of him now. It had been that very gun.
He started to reach out to touch it, but his hand started shaking, and he left it in Mope’s palm instead.
Mope frowned. “I knew it might be hard for you to see it. I’m sorry I brought it. I’ll get rid of it, Matt.”
“No, wait. Don’t,” said Matt. “You’re right. It’s not easy to see it. It still scares me that I… killed… that guy so easily. I feel like there’s a part of me that I don’t know. Something bad. But at the same time, I’m not going to have any other day in my life more important than that one. I need the reminder.”
Matt studied the gun, still in Mope’s hand. Mope said, “It bothered you, seeing the hash marks on my M4, didn’t it?”
Matt thought back to the day they took the photographs and he saw the scratches on the stock of Mope’s rifle. He scratched at his chin for a moment, trying to figure out exactly how he felt. “Kinda. No. I mean, I had just watched you kill several guys the night before that, but you did it for me. I just hadn’t thought about how many others there had been over time.”
Mope said, “You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
Matt tore his eyes from the handgun and looked up at Mope. “Will you keep it for me?”
Mope nodded. “Of course I will. I know that you see it as something a little scary and dark. But I see it as something that shows just how brave you really are. I hope one day you’ll see it the way I do.”
He put the gun back in his waistband, then put his hand on the side of Matt’s head. He leaned in and kissed Matt again lightly, their lips barely brushing against one another’s.
~~~~~
Matt and Mope sat cross-legged and facing each other on Matt’s bed. They had gotten down to their boxers and had spent several minutes studying each other up close, their fingertips gently exploring the other, along the tips of noses, tracing eyebrows, down chins, across the tips of ears, along shoulders, following chest muscles, and brushing across stomachs.
Matt studied Mope’s eyes with the dark eyebrows, his crooked nose, strong chin, protruding ears, and slightly off-kilter smile with the deep smile lines, which hadn’t left his face since they had danced in the park. The whole was far more than the sum of the parts; the whole came together in the most handsome and masculine form Matt had ever seen. He ran his fingers across the layer of smooth, dark hair that covered Mope’s chest and stomach, feeling the chiseled muscles underneath.
Mope admitted, “I feel like such a perv.”
Matt asked, “A perv? Why is that?” He had to chuckle at the thought.
“When I first found you in that room, and even in the bad shape you were in, I went to cut the ties off your hands and feet. I was so busy looking at those green eyes of yours I was afraid I was going to cut you. I’m lucky I didn’t.”
Matt smiled and said, “God damn and god bless for small favors.”
“You’ve been talking to Wasp, I can tell.”
Matt laughed and continued to run his finger over Mope’s body. “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, Mope.”
Mope grimaced and said, “What? With these flappy ears…”
Matt slapped his hand across Mope’s mouth and said, “Shut up, dipshit! I’m not asking for your opinion!”
Mope nodded and Matt removed his hand.
“You’re the most beautiful man I know. Inside and out. And… and can I call you Travis instead of Mope? Mope seems like a stupid nickname to me.”
Mope – Travis – laughed softly and said, “I never liked Mope that much, but you try and get the rest of the team to quit it and they just dig in that much harder. And thanks. Thanks for saying that. And thanks for talking to my dad. You have no idea what that means to me.”
Travis added, “And I guess I owe some thanks to Brian, too. Thank God he was enough of a dick to blow it with you, and I could be here with you tonight instead.”
Matt said the single word, “Travis,” and leaned forward to touch his lips to Travis’ again, kissing deeply. Travis pushed forward until Matt fell back on the bed and he lay down on top of him, both of them ready for the night to really begin.
Chapter 30 - Muster
Matt woke the next morning to find he had kicked most of the covers off of himself during the night, for once not needing them for warmth. He looked down and saw Travis’ head resting on his bare stomach, his arms wrapped around Matt’s midsection snugly. The steady rise and fall of Travis’ wide shoulders let him know that he was still sound asleep. He could feel the soft-yet-sandpapery prickle of Travis’ beard on his stomach.
As much as Matt wanted to reach out and touch Travis’ head, to verify this wasn’t some mirage, he didn’t want to wake him up, either. Just being able to see him like this was good, too. He thought what a nice problem it was to have.
It was strange for Matt to look at Travis like this. This person was capable of what seemed to be almost super-human things. But here he was, lying on Matt’s stomach, clutching at him like a five-year-old clutches at a favorite plush toy. It made Matt feel very warm and secure inside.
The sex the night before had been very good. Better than Matt had had with Brian in a long time. In fact, Matt couldn’t think of a better night in his whole life. Seeing Petey, Baya, and Desantos and finding out they were safe and sound was a huge relief after all of his neurotic worrying, and an unexpected thrill. Watching Petey get very protective and putting the fear of God into Brian. Meeting the rest of the platoon and finding out he had twelve other guys that all considered him their friend without even having met him before. Finding Travis on his doorstep. Suddenly finding himself dancing in the park in front of whoever may be walking by, wrapped up in Travis’ arms with their cheeks pressed together. Feeling Travis’ warm breath on his neck. He thought how that dance would be a special memory the rest of his life. Even seeing the gun that Travis had saved and brought to him - a tangible reminder of a night that was simultaneously horrible, and a turning point in himself as a person, and possibly the start of something that would be the best thing in his life. Matt looked at Travis’ head on his stomach. It was all because of him, all of it.
After about fifteen minutes, Matt couldn’t stand it anymore. He reached down and stroked Travis’ head, running his fingers across the inch-long dark hair carpeting it.
Travis stirred and stretched like a cat waking from a nap in the sun. He rolled over on his back and looked up at Matt, smiling that crooked, magnificent smile, his body halfway wrapped up in the white quilt and white sheets on Matt’s bed.
The first words out of Travis’ sleepy mouth were, “This has been the best twenty-four hours I’ve ever had in my life.” Matt wondered, who would ever be stupid enough to argue with that?
Matt smiled back and traced a finger along Trav
is’ disjointed-just-exactly-right nose. Travis sat up and moved up next to him, pushing his back up against Matt’s chest, pressing his ass up against Matt’s still-sleeping dick. He said, “I want to feel your arms around me.” So Matt wrapped his arms around the man, spooned up against him, and held on tightly. He ran his hands over the bare chest he held in his arms, feeling the layer of silky chest hair covering the raw, rough muscle beneath.
They lay like this a while, Matt’s nose buried in the back of Travis’ neck, feeling his skin against his lips and smelling the scent he so strongly associated with Travis now.
Travis said, “This feels so good, and I’m glad I’m here with you. I can actually relax around you and be myself. I don’t have to hide myself from you and you understand. You know me. God, this feels so good.”
Matt traced an index finger across a four-inch scar he found along Travis’ left arm, near the elbow. He asked, “How did you get this scar?”
Travis rolled over to face Matt. He said, “Firefight with some Somalian warlord thugs near Oddur. We had been warned they might have a grenade launcher, but I wasn’t paying attention. I will say, I’m lucky that’s the only permanent damage I came away with, and even luckier they’re crappy shots with the launcher. I was a young, dumb, inexperienced SEAL back then. Don’t tell anybody I talked about that; we weren’t officially there. I’d have to kill you if you did.” A goofy, sleepy, grin spread across his face.
“What about this one, the one over your eye?” asked Matt, tracing the scar that cut through Travis’ right eyebrow.
“That one?” asked Travis, smiling again. “You’ll like this. I got it when I was about seven years old. Turns out that razor blades glued together make pretty dangerous ninja throwing stars. That was probably the only time I really saw Chris get into serious hot water with our dad. He was furious with Chris, throwing those things at me!”
Matt cringed while grinning, “You threw razor blades at each other? Really?”
Travis nodded and laughed. He said, “I think Chris and I are where that old saying about ‘Stop that or you’ll put your eye out!’ comes from.”
