By 4:15, he really was about to give up, stop staring at the big bank of doors and the admissions desk where a seemingly never-ending stream of young families paid their fees. No guy who could remotely be Dustin.
“Wes?” The deep voice that haunted Wes’s dreams pulled him out of his churning thoughts. He whirled around, and there in a bright green-and-yellow T-shirt was the singularly hottest guy Wes had ever seen. He’d known Dustin was big—he claimed six four on his profile, and the broad shoulders and thick legs Wes had seen in pictures and on cam would seem to back that up, but he hadn’t ever seen the whole package.
Dirty blond hair, close cropped but with a bit of texture to it, like it would curl if given half a chance. A chiseled jaw Wes had seen hints of on camera, usually scruffier than the clean-shaven it was today. Serious brown eyes that contrasted with Dustin’s fair hair and skin and seemed to regard Wes with a sort of cautious consideration. That was okay. Wes was feeling much the same. And he knew he was staring, but the guy was seriously gorgeous. And jacked. Even his neck was muscular, and his shoulders and arms stretched the T-shirt. Ropey bare forearms led to hands shoved deep in his jean pockets. Not clubbing jeans like Wes’s—just ordinary faded Levis that hugged his tapered waist and muscled thighs.
Why would a guy this hot spend so much time online? The thought arrived before Wes could call it back. But for real, Dustin would only have to enter any bar in the country for five seconds before he’d have company for the night—and beyond, if he wanted. Wes knew why he himself spent so much time online—intractable insomnia combined with the pressures of the job and his family. He simply didn’t have time for anything else, but he needed a way to fill the long hours when he wasn’t sleeping.
“Wes?” the guy repeated.
“Oh. Yeah.” Articulate. That was him. He stuck out a hand because that seemed like the thing to do. It took Dustin a minute to decide what to do with that, indecision written all over his furrowed forehead and narrowed eyes, but finally he pulled a hand out of his pocket and took Wes’s with a big, firm grip.
“Nice to meet you.” Dustin had a great voice or so Wes had always thought—no accent, but deep and rich, like real maple syrup. His voice was, however, more nervous than Wes had heard it in a while, having the same hitch it’d had the first few times they’d voice chatted.
“Same.” Wes laughed because this tension was about to kill him. “This is weird, right?”
“Totally.” Dustin smiled for the first time, revealing a hint of dimples on either side of his mouth. Adorable. “I’m... I’ve never done this before.”
“I know.” Smiling didn’t come naturally to Wes, but he forced himself to try to return Dustin’s. “Me either.”
“Really?” Dustin’s eyebrow quirked, and he lowered his voice. “You’ve never met anyone else from the app? Would have figured that you’d get around.”
“Is that your way of assuming I’m a manwhore?” Wes didn’t really bristle, keeping his voice light and accent heavy. Truth was, he was a bit flattered as his actual experience total would probably make Dustin gasp for a whole different reason.
“No. No, of course not.” Dustin rubbed the back of his neck. Around them families and tour groups chattered and took pictures, but all Wes’s attention was on Dustin. “I just meant...you’re pretty cute and all...” His cheeks flushed.
“Oh. Thanks.” Wes’s own skin heated up at the compliment. “And no. I’d just found the app a few weeks before I met you, and it was always just a chat thing for me. Not really looking for a lot of in-person hookups.”
“That’s...good.” Some of the tension seemed to leave Dustin’s body at the news that this wasn’t something Wes did on the regular. “Sorry I was late. Forgot to factor in parking down here.”
“No problem,” Wes lied like he hadn’t died a million little deaths thinking that Dustin was about to stand him up.
“So...uh...” Dustin continued massaging his neck, and Wes had a powerful urge to replace Dustin’s broad hand with his own. “What do we do now?”
He gave Wes the sweetest look, beseeching like he trusted Wes to have a plan for all this. That was something Wes really loved about him in chat too, the way he let Wes lead, almost like he craved it, like he was grateful for Wes’s direction.
“We explore,” Wes said decisively. Dustin was still skittish, and Wes had a feeling he might bolt if given the opportunity. “Told you, I came fixing to see the narwhal exhibit. And if you’ve never been here before, we have to hit up the dinosaurs too.”
“This is all new.” Dustin laughed nervously, and Wes had to restrain himself from patting his arm, offering some reassurance. But he’d promised no PDA.
Instead, he settled for a wink. “I know. Follow me.”
Chapter Two
Follow me. Dustin supposed he was ready to do that. After all, he’d shown up. No time to chicken out now. He’d had his phone out the whole drive down from Annapolis, trying to come up with the right text to tell Wes he couldn’t make it. Then he’d sat in the crowded parking garage for an eternity, composing and deleting messages. But then something had come over him, the same decisiveness he got right before a jump or a dive when he knew the unknown was inevitable and that it was better to head straight for it than to dither around all day. And so he’d found himself hurrying toward the museum, both hoping that Wes was still there and bracing for him to be a no-show.
When he’d seen him standing by the giant elephant on a raised platform in the center of the main rotunda, his breath had caught. Wes was gorgeous, but it was his eyes that drew Dustin in—deep blue, an almost impossible shade and full of emotion, giving him an air of thoughtful wariness. His full pink mouth wasn’t smiling, which only gave his eyes more depth. Seemed like Wes was the kind of person that one had to earn a smile from, and Dustin kind of liked that challenge.
Like in the picture he’d sent Dustin, he had the perfect amount of stubble—like he’d been lazy that morning, decided to skip it in favor of more brooding. His thick dark hair was artfully messed up in a way that Dustin bet he didn’t get away with on duty. Ditto the small silver studs in his earlobes.
Those and his tight jeans made him look younger and hipper, made Dustin feel old and stuffy and like he didn’t really know the rules for this little excursion. Meet-up. Date. Whatever the heck it was. Thank God though, that as usual, Wes seemed to have a plan, leading Dustin through the rotunda to the hall that led to the special exhibit area.
The exhibit had many giant narwhal replicas, interactive areas, and giant posters with narwhal facts. It was a bit surreal, looking at the big fish-like creatures with their long unicorn horns, with the guy he’d seen and heard come more times than he could count but who was otherwise a stranger.
“They really do look like sea unicorns,” Dustin said, watching as Wes carefully read one of the exhibit posters. He liked how intent Wes was about everything, how he seemed to take in all the little details of the exhibit, give each one its proper due and consideration.
“I dig unicorns.” Something that might be the start of a smile teased at the corner of Wes’s mouth. The look he gave Dustin was rather...pointed.
Fuck. What did I say? Wes was being almost flirty, but Dustin wasn’t sure what about unicorns... Oh. “I didn’t mean...” Even the tips of Dustin’s ears heated.
“I know.” Wes’s eyes sparkled before he lowered his voice. “But I’m just saying, it’s never bugged me, you being bi. I know plenty of bi-phobic guys, but that’s not me.”
“Thanks.” Dustin wasn’t exactly sure how to take that. “Still feels a bit weird,” he admitted. They’d talked some about this online, and Wes was the only person he’d ever felt comfortable being honest about this stuff with. “Using that label for myself. Feels like someone’s about to come out from behind that poster and be all, ‘No way! You haven’t even kissed
a guy!’ about it.”
“You get to use whatever label works for you.” Wes gave him a reassuring smile, the first real one Dustin had seen from him, and it was stunning the way his eyes seemed bluer and his lips fuller when he smiled. “And for the record, and no pressure, I’m all for helping out with the no real-world experience piece.”
Oh fuck. Dustin’s blush had undoubtedly reached thermonuclear proportions. “That...uh...maybe.”
“I can work with maybe.” Wes gave him another encouraging look before moving away to stand in front of a narwhal skeleton. He had on heavy boots, and he moved with the sort of confidence Dustin would expect from someone in law enforcement or an MP—sure, decisive movements. Merely watching him walk shouldn’t be such a turn-on, but it totally was.
“You...uh... How’d you get so comfortable?” Dustin wasn’t sure quite what he was asking, just that he really wanted to know.
“With myself, you mean? Or with bi guys? Or just in general?” Wes’s head tilted like he was trying to decode him.
“All of the above.”
“Well, I’m hardly the poster child for self-acceptance.” Wes’s laugh was cryptic. “I’m not out on duty. Just to a few close friends. Thought I told you that. My family knows, and they’re supportive. But life’s way too short not to feel comfortable in your own skin, regardless of who knows what.”
“Yes.” That was exactly what Dustin had been wrestling with for years—pretending to be easygoing and affable, but deep down never really feeling at home in his own body. “I just wish I knew how to do that.”
“You start.” Wes pointed at the skeleton. “You just own the fact that you’re a big, bad horned creature of mythic proportions. And trust me, I’m no expert at this, but I do know that life’s more fun when I’m honest, at least with myself.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to do.” Downloading the Joe4Joe app had been part of that process, being honest with himself at least, even if he couldn’t fathom a world where he was open with everyone.
“Good.” Wes nodded like Dustin had passed some sort of test, and the praise felt better than it should have. It reminded Dustin of Wes’s whispered words of encouragement in other circumstances, usually with far less clothing and far less deep conversation. “Did you see this picture of the two narwhals crossing horns? Tell me that’s not amazing.”
“It is.” God, Dustin liked this guy, way more than he should. Loved his enthusiasm for the exhibit and how darn easy he was to talk to about stuff that Dustin never talked to anyone about.
They made their way through the exhibit, Wes providing the same sort of commentary he did when they had a video on in the background while chatting, and gradually, Dustin relaxed more and more. This felt familiar. Easy. Right.
“Didn’t you promise me dinosaurs?” Dustin joked as they came to the end of the narwhals. He was nowhere near done spending time with Wes. Still wasn’t sure exactly what would come after the museum, but he was having too much fun to think too far ahead.
“Right this way.” Wes led him to another massive exhibit hall, this one filled with giant dinosaur skeletons that made Dustin’s inner ten-year-old want to jump up and down with awe. The room was filled with people, many families with young children, but also older couples and tourist groups. He heard at least four different languages as they made their way from display to display. Wes continued his banter about the animals, easy conversation that had Dustin smiling more than he would have thought possible.
As they looked up at a giant T-Rex, a mom with two little boys gave them a knowing smile. Dustin recognized that look as one his mom used on his brother Dylan and his fiancé Apollo all the time. The “you’re so cute, I can’t hardly stand it” look. And it was a stare he’d never once coveted.
“You’re frowning,” Wes observed in a whisper, following his gaze.
“Is this... Are we...?” Hell, Dustin hated how little control he had over his tongue today. He was used to being firm and commanding, not this tongue-tied nervous wreck.
“It’s only a date if you want it to be,” Wes soothed. “And trust me that ninety-nine percent of people here couldn’t care less what we’re up to.”
Dustin knew that, but it was hard to shake the feeling of all eyeballs on him. Wes, however, radiated comfort, the same way he did when they talked about this stuff online, made Dustin feel like less of a freak show.
“The museum is closing in twenty minutes,” a speaker blared.
“Dang. Forgot that they usually close at 5:30.” Wes’s guarded look was hard to decipher.
It would be so damn easy to wish him well right here and head out, but instead Dustin found himself saying, “How about that beer?”
Wes’s smile, slow and genuine, was all the reward Dustin needed for being bold enough to ask. A man could get drunk in those lake-blue eyes rather easily, especially when they sparkled like a summer rain had recently lifted.
“I know a great joint over in Dupont. Best fries I’ve ever had. But...” Wes’s perfectly white teeth worried his bottom lip.
“But?” Dustin prompted.
“It’s a pretty mixed crowd and has a sports bar vibe, but it’s in the heart of Seventeenth. You might not want something over there. Reckon it might be too...complicated for you.”
“I’ve been in gay bars before.” He wasn’t lying. He hadn’t been Apollo’s best friend for going on fifteen years without occasionally socializing at Apollo’s usual haunts, although he’d often had a date along or been in a group of friends. “And my best friend is marrying my brother. It doesn’t get any more complicated than that. I can handle your favorite place.”
“Really?” Wes offered him another stunner of a smile, one that made Dustin want to push past whatever discomfort he was dealing with. He could do this.
“Lead me to the great fries.” For the first time all day, he used his commanding tone, the one that always got results from his men. Wes’s eyes went wide, then he nodded. Good. Dustin kinda liked surprising him, keeping him guessing. Maybe if he felt as off-kilter as Dustin did, then things would be more equal.
* * *
Wes loved the neighborhood bar in the heart of DC’s gay district, loved how it wasn’t a dance club—he was never quite sure what to do with himself at those. But the sports bar felt familiar, like the places his buddies went to back home or near base. He remembered the first time he’d come here, several years ago, and everything had just felt right, like he was right where he was supposed to be. He hoped that Dustin felt similarly welcome. The joint had a generous covered patio, but they’d opted to come indoors, where the narrow wood-paneled room was highlighted by a massive bar with tables and chairs in front of it. A cheerful sign told them to sit anywhere.
“Hey, they’ve got the college game on.” Dustin gestured at one of the many TVs scattered throughout the small space. “You follow football at all? Oregon’s predicted to have a terrible season this year, but I’ve got hopes.”
“Eh. I follow UNC because my family might disown me if I didn’t, but other than that I don’t usually watch college ball until the Bowl season rolls around. But basketball, now that’s religion.” Out of training, Wes’s eyes swept the space, taking in the exits, and finding a table with a good view of the whole room. Funny, to find Dustin doing the exact same thing, his darker eyes seeming to catalog every detail. And a relief too, if he was being honest—Dustin walked with the same impeccable room-owning posture of every marine Wes had ever met and his behavior backed up that he was who he appeared to be. Which, considering how many of the dudes on Joe4Joe were clearly posers, was right nice.
And sure enough, they both went for the seat against the wall rather than put their back to the room.
“Sorry. Habit.” Wes let Dustin have the seat, figuring that anything that made him more comfortable was a good thing. It had been good
to see him relax more and more while they’d been at the museum, although he’d tensed up again on the drive over here.
Having known better than to try to park close to the Natural History Museum, Wes had taken the metro, so he’d ridden back with Dustin in his small rental car. Dustin had bitched about the rental being an automatic, and Wes had commiserated because he’d be pissed about that same thing. Trying to find parking in Dupont was a hassle and a half, and he’d noticed Dustin’s tension rising with every block they circled.
Even now, his large frame dwarfing the dark wood chair and their small table, Dustin looked distinctly ill-at-ease, glancing around, and turning the menu over like it might have a recipe for crawdads on the back.
“Do y’all know what you’re drinking?” the waitress—a slim woman around his age with a curvy chest stretching a tight black top—asked with the sort of deep Southern accent Wes associated with Alabama and Mississippi.
“What’s on tap that’s a lager?” Dustin gave her the easiest smile Wes had seen all day, and she smiled right back. An ugly green monster bristled inside Wes’s chest, and he suppressed a growl.
“Well, sugar, I think the Yuengling Lager might be just the thing for you, but I’ve got Brooklyn in a bottle too.”
“Tap is fine.” Another free and easy smile.
“And for you?” She turned to Wes with decidedly less friendliness.
“House Amber is fine.”
“I’ll be back with those and to get y’all’s food orders.” She walked away, a sway to her hips that Dustin most certainly followed. Wes had been honest earlier that Dustin’s bisexuality didn’t bother him, so this jealousy churning in his gut was a bit of a surprise, one he wasn’t sure how to handle.
Wheels Up Page 2
