Welcome Home, Soldier

by Deanna Wadsworth

  I didn’t try to stop him. I wanted this….

  With a groan, Daniel cupped his cock now, not sure if it would go down after that kiss on his neck, so hesitant and innocent. Just like the first time.

  Hell, that would be Daniel’s undoing.

  No one had ever wanted Daniel the way Clay did, with such hunger and never-ending need. And while Daniel had loved his passion, he fell in love with Clay’s tender side. That gentle man seeking love and validation after being abandoned as a child—on Christmas Eve no less!—abused by a string of cruel foster parents, then summers in a real orphanage and a stint in juvie. Miraculously, Clay had been adopted by an older couple when he’d been a teenager, and their patience and love managed to break through all that adversity, molding Clay into the best damn man Daniel had ever had the privilege to call friend.

  The epitome of fire, passion, and drive, Clay was also soft and vulnerable. And that was the Clay that Daniel had loved fiercely and tried so damn hard to protect.

  In the end, though, love hadn’t been enough to save either of them.

  Yet now Clay had returned to Daniel’s life. What did he want? Just to rekindle an old friendship? Or did that hug mean he wanted more than just sex?

  That soft kiss had awakened more than desire inside Daniel. It awakened the longing for Clay’s affection, his heart. Things he’d lost long ago. While no mistaking Clay’s sexual interest tonight—Clay’s erection had risen against his own, hard, thick, and familiar—was Daniel ready for that?

  Sex didn’t scare him, but sex with Clay did.

  Because it wouldn’t just be sex. It had never been.

  Glancing over his shoulder, he watched Clay eat another cookie.

  You can take a bite out of me.

  Then George barked, and Daniel let him in. George scampered through the house, splattering snow everywhere he went, more excited about their guest than Daniel.

  Well, he was excited, but more like the terrified excitement of being on a roller coaster he’d never ridden. Of course, Daniel had taken that ride with Clay, but time had changed it so much, the journey would be nothing like the one they’d been on before.

  An unspoken awkwardness circled around the room after George interrupted the intimacy. Clay found George’s new elf toy and squeaked it until George did circles, barking. He tossed it down the hall, and George chased after it. Once he got it, George plopped down, chewing happily. He was still a playful dog, just older and slower.

  Like me.

  Daniel studied Clay as he examined the Christmas tree, silhouetted by the white storm outside the windows. He thought about the wild, reckless youth Clay had once been, juxtaposed with this more mature Clay. The playfulness had returned to his demeanor, and the darkness that Daniel had feared might destroy Clay seemed blessedly gone.

  Always up for action, Clay had joined a convoy headed to Basra at the last minute. Iraqis had ambushed them, and Clay had been the only survivor. As his NCO at the time, Daniel knew what happened, but he never learned how Clay felt about it. Clay never told him, no matter how many times he’d asked. Clay had not been the same when he came back. Dark and haunted, his once joyful blue eyes had lost their light.

  But tonight the light was back.

  The years had healed Clay, and that warmed Daniel’s heart.

  “It’s getting late,” Clay observed, still staring out the window. “You turning in soon?”

  “Probably.” Daniel glanced at his watch. Midnight. “It’s officially Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, Danny.”

  Daniel’s heart clenched, and he cleared his throat. “You too.”

  It went without saying that this Christmas was merrier than their last holiday together. But Daniel could feel the weight of the past pressing in on them both.

  “You got a bathroom?” Clay asked.

  “Yeah, sure, it’s over here.” Daniel led him to the half bath off the laundry.

  The cabin he’d built after the divorce—his own personal dream home—had one bedroom with a master bath and a loft that could’ve served as another bedroom but Daniel had converted it to an office because it made more sense to enjoy the view while awake. He’d hoped the half bath would be enough to encourage Jared to visit. Of course, a spare bed in the office might result in longer visits.

  Maybe I should get a murphy bed.

  After placing out towels in case Clay wanted to freshen up, Daniel fished beneath the counter and produced a new toothbrush. “Here ya go.”

  “Thanks.” Clay fingered the design on the towels. “I like the moose.”

  Daniel grinned. “Thanks.”

  “You know, if the plural of goose is geese, then how come moose isn’t meese?”

  Such a Clay thing to say. Chuckling, Daniel shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  Their eyes met and smiles faded, both of them well aware of the small space, how close they stood. And how damn nice that hug had been.

  Daniel cleared his throat and stepped away first. “Okay, I’ll set up the couch for you.”

  “I really am sorry about putting you out.”

  Stopping in the bathroom doorway, Daniel faced him. “I’m not.”

  “It’s been too long,” Clay said, voice deepening. “Why didn’t we stay in touch?”

  Those blue eyes compelled Daniel to answer. “You wanted something I couldn’t give you.”

  Could he give it to Clay now?

  His life was full, happy, but something, someone was missing. He was getting older, but he wasn’t old. Every time someone tried to set him up on a date, a pang of loneliness did strike him, though he’d tried to deny it. Daniel missed intimacy. He missed sex. Hell, he missed having someone to share breakfast with.

  Daniel was already envisioning Clay on his boat, seeing him again after tonight. The attraction was still there, their lust for each other not quenched, but would Clay believe Daniel was willing to be with a man, out and in the open, after the cruel things Daniel had said to him all those years ago?

  Words burned on Daniel’s tongue, and before he thought better of it, he blurted, “Can you forgive me?”

  Setting down the toothbrush, Clay shook his head. “For what?”

  “For what I said about wanting a normal life. For being afraid….” His throat choked.

  Without warning, Clay kissed him.

  Fire burst to light inside Daniel as those rough lips claimed him. He moaned into a kiss sweetened by the years apart. Deepening the kiss, Clay pushed him back, pressing Daniel against the door. Daniel grabbed his shirt so he didn’t stumble. With a hungry growl, Clay ground his pelvis into him, his grip like a vise.

  Breathless, Daniel pulled back before he lost what little control he had. “Is that forgiveness?” he managed before kissing Clay’s lips, his chin… and that splendid, glorious neck! He laved his Adam’s apple when Clay swallowed, and swore the taste of his skin would send him over the edge.

  Clay groaned but pulled back before Daniel could lick him again. Their eyes met, and Clay shook his head, stroking Daniel’s face. His weary expression deepened the lines around his eyes. “I don’t know. Basra broke me, but… losing you? That destroyed me.”

  “You left me,” Daniel cried. “You ended it. I just needed more time.”

  Clay squeezed his shirt, face impassioned. “Dammit, Danny, you knew how messed up I was. You knew I couldn’t keep living a lie. You backed me into a corner.”

  He opened his mouth to protest, but Clay spoke the truth.

  Rather than going home with Clay—or God forbid bring Clay back to Gilead as his boyfriend—Daniel had reenlisted because he’d been a coward. He loved Clay, but he feared the reprisals of discovery, both in the Army and at home. Why put himself through all that prejudice and embarrassment when he could make his life easier by finding a wife instead? He’d justified that twisted thinking because Clay had changed. He’d become a stranger, no longer the man Daniel loved. Maybe that man was gone forever.

  At leas
t that’s what Daniel had told himself.

  Yes, ultimately, Clay had walked out the door, but Daniel opened the door in the first place. He’d deserved every name Clay had called him that fateful Christmas Eve.

  “I’m sorry,” Daniel whispered again, dropping his chin and staring at his hands kneading Clay’s pecs. “I couldn’t give you what you needed. And after your convoy got hit… you changed. I couldn’t handle it. Then you started demanding that we come out, and I just wanted everything to go back to the way it was before.”

  Clay brushed back Daniel’s hair. Daniel shifted into his caress, still unable to look at him.

  “The way it was before?” Clay questioned. “When we had to hide our love?”

  That sounded like an accusation, and it ruffled his feathers. “You knew the rules back then. Did you want to be discharged?”

  “What about when I went home?” he demanded, and Daniel knew it was an accusation. “I know you stayed in, but I would’ve waited.”

  “How was I supposed to know that? You left me,” he insisted, tears burning his eyes. How can Clay still do this to me? “You were the one that left. I begged you to stay. Do you remember that?”

  Clay’s face hardened, and he stepped away. “I gotta take a piss.”

  As hopeless as the last time they’d had this fight, Daniel spun on his heels. His heart pounded, and he brushed at his face as the bathroom door shut behind him. He hurried into the safety of his bedroom, sucking in a deep breath and trying to regain his composure.

  Dammit, this was so much easier online!

  Why had Clay come here? Why had he hugged and kissed Daniel? Why did Daniel let him?

  Because he wanted—no he needed Clay to touch him. To feel alive again. He hadn’t thought of himself as lonely, but he was. Dammit, Daniel was so lonely!

  And then Clay showed up tonight, awakening all Daniel’s emotions, which had never truly left. Regret, happiness, fear… love?

  There were so many unfinished conversations, old scores never hashed out. They both had failed the other. Playing the blame game wouldn’t help them tonight. They weren’t the same stupid kids they’d been. They were grown men, with entire lives under their belts. They could talk about their past without it ruining the evening—or destroying a chance to renew their friendship. Daniel had to take charge of this situation, get control over himself, or it would escalate like it had before.

  He didn’t want that to happen.

  Not this time.

  Daniel felt Clay’s presence before he heard him. He turned, only startled by the way Clay’s girth filled the doorway for a moment.

  “I don’t want to fight with you,” Daniel declared. “It was a long time ago. We both made mistakes. I wasn’t ready to be out. You were. I get it, but—”

  Clay held up his hand. “Danny, wait, I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight with you either. Obviously we should talk about it, but civilized.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, civilized.”

  “There’s something I want to tell you.”

  His somber expression concerned Daniel. “What is it?”

  “Just something you should know. You know, before anything—” He hesitated and his gaze darted to the bed. “—goes any further.”

  Daniel nodded. The last time they’d been together, they’d barely gotten into the motel room before they were ripping at each other’s clothes, desperate to fuck. After that hug, Daniel knew the attraction and lust was still there, but sex would only blur tonight’s already hazy lines.

  Staying quiet, Daniel sat on the edge of his bed, fearing the act was an open invitation to go further than a kiss but unsure his legs could hold him up any longer. Touching the soft yarn blanket draped across the foot of the bed with his hands soothed him for a moment. When Daniel had been in high school, Mom had crocheted the twin-sized afghan with navy and green chevron stripes. She’d died of breast cancer while he’d been dating Clay. They’d still been Stateside, so Daniel had come home to Gilead for her last days and the funeral. Clay had stayed behind.

  Dammit, I needed him so much, but I told him not to come with me because I didn’t want Mom to know about us. He would have been there for me, though. All I had to do was ask.

  Fingering the afghan, Daniel fought another swell of feeling. If only he’d told Mom the truth, given her a chance to meet Clay and see them together. To know the real Daniel. But he had been too damn afraid.

  Rolling his knuckles over his thigh, Clay hovered for a moment, then sat beside Daniel. “When you said you wouldn’t leave the Army to be with me,” Clay began, but when his voice caught, he scrunched his face and shook his head. “It killed me. I was so angry at you. You broke our plan. We were supposed to be together, but you reenlisted behind my back.”

  Daniel opened his mouth to protest but snapped it shut. He had witnessed Clay’s breakdown, but he hadn’t known how to help him. That was why he hadn’t told Clay. He hadn’t wanted to face the anger. It hurt too much seeing Clay’s pain. But it was unfair to blame Clay for everything. Throat tight, he admitted, “I’m sorry, but I wasn’t strong enough… to admit who I was.”

  “Shh, I know.” Clay patted his leg. Then, with a weary groan, he lay back onto the mattress, as if he couldn’t stay upright under the weight of their past. “Those three years with you were the only time I’ve ever been truly happy. Did you know that?”

  “No, I didn’t.” Wanting to touch him, reassure him, Daniel ran the back of his fingers across Clay’s stomach. “I was happy too. So happy. But I didn’t think I could have the Army and you. I was a coward.”

  Saying the word felt easier than he’d expected. A benediction even. Like by admitting the truth to Clay, Daniel was forgiven for being unable to be honest with himself all those years ago. For hurting Clay with his cowardice.

  Propping up on one elbow, Clay looked up at him. His long, thick body stretched out, inviting and enticing. “I thought about reenlisting too, but I just couldn’t. Another tour or two wouldn’t have changed anything anyway. We would’ve been over as soon as we left the Army.”

  “Would we have? Been over, I mean,” Daniel said softly, his hand still on Clay’s stomach. Every breath, each rise and fall of his chest made Daniel ache to kiss him, hold him close, and erase all the years they’d been apart.

  “Were you gonna bring me here?” Clay challenged, gesturing around. “Back to Gilead where everyone knew you? Introduce me as your boyfriend?”

  Guilt brought tears to his eyes. “I’m sorry about that. I—”

  Clay quickly placed a finger to his lips. “I get it. We didn’t live in your son’s world. Coming out isn’t easy.”

  He sniffed, trying to lighten the heavy mood. “No, it isn’t. You should’ve seen my secretary’s face when I told her I wouldn’t kick Hugh Jackman out of bed for eating crackers. She gave me this weird look, and my face got all hot when I realized what I’d said. Then I was like, Oh, I guess you didn’t know I was bi.” He gazed into Clay’s eyes with sincerity. “I’m not ashamed of who I am anymore, Clay. You gotta believe that.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  They remained quiet a moment, and then Clay said, “I thought you would come after me.”

  “I wanted to.” Daniel couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “But you got married a couple years later, and….” His voice cracked. “You got married, Danny.”

  “I wish I never would’ve let you walk out that door. That I would have gone after you,” he said, trembling lips pursed. Truer words had never been spoken. Clay had been his first love, and it had been hard as hell getting over him. He never really had. Yet Daniel’s choices had gifted him with Jared. “But if I had, then I wouldn’t have my son. I can’t regret that. I won’t.”

  “Yeah, that’s true. And I was a real asshole in the end. I wouldn’t have gone after me either.”

  He let out an amused sniff, then lay on his side too, facing Clay.

  Daniel remembered watching Clay spiral out of c
ontrol, partying, picking fights, and being reckless about exposing their relationship. As if Clay wanted to be caught and discharged, he manipulated Daniel with blowjobs in the middle of the day, right in the bathroom where anyone could walk in. Clay knew damn well that Daniel wouldn’t say “no.” He’d never been able to deny Clay anything.

  Or so he’d once believed.

  He had been able to deny Clay when Clay asked him to go somewhere they could be out and together. Maybe California. Certainly not Gilead. But Daniel had been too afraid of being discharged—his love for Clay battling with his pride—that he couldn’t risk his military career. He thought if he could fix Clay, things would go back to the way they were before Basra. But his once-happy lover refused all help. In the end, it was easier to stay in the Army, where everything was predictable and orderly, two things Clay had never been.

  Of course, that had always been what attracted him to Clay. He had been the chaos to Daniel’s order, the yin to his yang. The fun to his serious. Clay had brought balance to Daniel’s life with his disorder. It never made much sense, but damn, he’d missed that so much. How many nights had he longed to hear Clay’s voice, bounce ideas off him? Share a beer? Listen to his laugh? Gently touch his arm? They’d lost so much time.

  “You should have called me,” Daniel whispered. “We could’ve stayed friends.”

  “What would I have said? Can I come over and meet your wife?”

  “Yeah, I guess that would’ve been awkward.”

  “I never wanted to be just your friend, Danny. You know that.”

  He nodded, nothing left to say.

  It hadn’t been a fling for either of them. They’d been in love. And ex-boyfriends didn’t hang out or stay friends, not when a relationship ended the way theirs had. Clay never could’ve pretended to be an old Army buddy visiting Daniel during Gilead’s Applebutter Fest. Tracy would’ve figured out who Clay was eventually, because Daniel wouldn’t have been able to hide his feelings for Clay.

  She was right all along.

  “When I told Tracy I was bi, she created a third person in our marriage.” Daniel wanted Clay to know he’d never stopped thinking about him. “I never cheated on her, but she imagined I wanted to. She imagined it so hard, that she created another man. But then again”—he squirmed and their eyes met—“maybe she didn’t.”