The Complete Veterans Affairs Romances: Gay Military Romances

by A. E. Wasp

  Chris walked over to Jay-Cee, stopping him mid-stride. “You okay?”

  A month ago Chris wouldn’t have asked the question. A month ago Jay-Cee wouldn’t have answered it. Things change. “The essence of this piece keeps eluding me. It isn’t saying what I want it to,” Jay-Cee admitted.

  Chris frowned. “What’s wrong with it? I think it’s gorgeous.”

  Jay-Cee ran both hands through his hair, tugging at the longish silver strands. “I don’t know.” And that was the frustrating part. If he knew what was wrong with it, he would fix it. He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe my proportions are off? It’s missing something.”

  Chris walked over to the piece. A nude Viking warrior about three feet high with a braided beard cascading down his chin was taking shape on the chicken wire and newspaper armature. “I think people will love the way you’re using figures from Norse mythology with classical Greek proportions.”

  Chris looked at Jay-Cee for permission before gently running a finger over the rough-hewn clay. He stepped back to look at it from a few different angles. “This is a little different than the sketch we worked out. It looks stiffer somehow.”

  Jay-Cee liked the way Chris said what he thought and trusted Jay-Cee not to react badly to constructive criticism. Jay-Cee knew some artists who had their assistants so cowed they would barely open their mouths. He couldn’t see how that would be helpful to anyone.

  “It is stiff. I know.” He paced around the room again, feeling trapped. There was one thing he could do to work off some of this frustration and get a little control back. He didn’t often do it but he knew there were clubs down in Denver where he could get a safe, anonymous hookup. It had been a while. He recoiled from the thought as soon as it surfaced. That had never really been his scene. It was too fake, too empty. The purely physical release it offered didn’t come close to touching his deep emotional need for connection. And if he was completely honest, his relationship with Jason, though it had been emotionally satisfying, had never really left him physically fulfilled. Jason would have been horrified if he had ever really known Jay-Cee’s desires. No surprised, Jay-Cee had given up on finding someone to help join the two halves of him and make him whole.

  He tried to remember if he had even touched another human since that night with Chris and came up blank. And how long had it been before then? Months? A year?

  Chris walked next to him, matching him step for step though he was several inches shorter. “I think you need a change of pace. No pun intended.” He looked at Jay-Cee, eyes smiling. “We’ve been going full throttle for a long time now. You should get out of here. Go for a drive in the mountains. Walk by the river. Maybe it will knock something loose in your brain.”

  “Right now I’m afraid that if anything gets knocked out of my head, it will simply leak down onto the floor.” Jay-Cee stopped in a patch of sunlight, enjoying the feel of the warmth on his body. He closed his eyes and tilted his head up to the window.

  “Maybe if you get out of your head and into your body a little bit more you’ll feel more of a connection to these bodies,” Chris said softly near him.

  Jay-Cee opened his eyes and tilted his head back down to look Chris in the face. He stood right in front of Jay-Cee. Jay-Cee wanted to lose himself in Chris’s body. He wanted to feel how soft his faded blue jeans and worn t-shirt were. The tips of Chris’s platinum hair were dyed the same shade of sky blue as his eyes. Jay-Cee wondered if they would feel spiky against his palms, or maybe they were softer than they looked.

  “What do you suggest?” he asked, body swaying closer to Chris’s despite himself.

  Chris licked his lips, eyes dropping to Jay-Cee’s mouth, and then lingering on the tattoos rising up from the collar of his t-shirt. He met Jay-Cee’s gaze. “I don’t know. Go for a run? It always, mostly, works for me.”

  “Do you run regularly?” Chris seemed like an indoor person. Jay-Cee had a hard time imagining him jogging.

  “Yeah. It was one of the things my sponsor suggested. When you stop using, you suddenly have a whole lot more free time on your hands. Plus I was in bad shape. I needed something to do that took my mind off stuff. I like the discipline, the way you can make goals. You can set a target and you either hit it, or you don’t. You can measure your progress quantitatively rather than,” he waved his hand around the studio, “guessing.”

  Huh. He’d never thought about exercise that way before. Jay-Cee hadn’t let himself get too out of shape since leaving the Army, but he did PT more out of habit than any conscious decision. “When do you run?”

  “Usually before work. Sometimes after. In the winter, sometimes I use the indoor track at the rec center. Or I go dancing. That works in a different way, but it works.”

  Jay-Cee pulled one of the rolling stools over and sat on it, one foot propped up on a high rung. “Have you gone out dancing recently?”

  “Not in way too long.” It was Chris’s turn to pace now. He swayed to some music only he could hear that had nothing to do with the soft classical playing in the background. He swiveled his hips. “Not since Pride. Maybe we need a dance party here?”

  Chris sauntered over to Benny, calling for him over the music in his headphones. Benny didn’t react, caught up in the music or the paperwork or both. Chris pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, balled it up and threw it next to Benny on the table.

  Jay-Cee appreciated the way Chris tried never to startle Benny. The young former Marine was still a little gun-shy from his time in the service, and it was best not to sneak up on him. Truthfully, it wasn’t Jay-Cee’s favorite thing either, but he was pretty hard to sneak up on.

  Benny pulled the earplugs out and turned to look at Chris. “What’s up?” He blinked at the sunlight, stretching his neck out. “What time is it?”

  “Almost lunch time. And I need some dance music. What have you got?” Chris draped himself over Benny’s shoulders, and Benny patted him absently while scrolling through his phone.

  “I got everything and everyone. Are you feeling old school? Maybe some Madonna? Lady GaGa?”

  “Perfect.” He turned to Jay-Cee. “Do you mind?”

  Jay-Cee shook his head and disconnected his phone from the Bluetooth speakers.

  Benny tapped on his screen a couple of times, and the sound of Madonna asking mercy from God came over the speakers before the dance music filled the space.

  Chris grabbed Benny’s stool and rolled him into the middle of the studio. Benny held on with both hands and laughed. The music pounded, more sound coming out of the small speaker than Jay-Cee expected.

  Chris dragged Benny around on the stool for a bit before pulling him onto the floor. Benny grabbed Chris’s hips pulling him tightly against his thigh. Singing out loud, Chris ground up against Benny, his hands running down Benny’s strong back and up into his hair.

  They were young and happy and gorgeous together, Benny the dark to Chris’s light. Jay-Cee gripped the edges of his stool to keep himself from going over there and doing something crazy. What exactly that would look like, he didn’t know. He wanted to pull Benny off of Chris. He wanted to take Chris upstairs and screw his brains out. Maybe take both of them, they were gorgeous together. He wondered briefly what Benny’s very buff, very hot boyfriend would think of that. Probably wouldn’t go over well.

  Chris turned his back to Benny’s chest and danced faster and dirtier; his ass pressed into Benny’s groin. Jay-Cee could tell by the look in Benny’s eyes that he didn’t mind at all.

  “Wanna dance, boss?” Chris asked eyes laser focused on Jay-Cee.

  Jay-Cee shook his head and fought to keep his breathing even and his face impassive as the song ended and Chris twisted his head to give Benny a solid kiss right on the lips.

  Jay-Cee had noticed Chris and Benny shared a lot of casual touching during the day. They were both very tactile, and it made Jay-Cee’s palms itch to feel some skin beneath his hands.

  Jay-Cee knew what it was like to feel touch-starved. T
o be desperate enough to need someone, anyone. When you couldn’t remember the last time somebody had hugged you in friendship, let alone in real passion.

  Benny whispered something into Chris’s ear, and he grabbed Chris’s ass with both hands. They laughed before they separated.

  “I’ll go grab some lunch,” Benny said, turning the volume down on the music. “I need to stretch my legs. Do you want me to pick up something?”

  “Where you going?” Chris asked.

  “I was thinking that taqueria down the block. I like to keep the Mexican stereotypes alive. It makes you gringos feel better.”

  “Do you need me to come?” Chris asked as Benny took their orders.

  “Nah. I’m good unless you want the walk?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Slacker.”

  Jay-Cee handed Benny forty bucks. “Let me buy lunch. I’ve been making you men work hard this week.”

  Benny took the money. “Thanks, boss. That’s awesome. I’ll be back in twenty.” Daylight streamed in through the door when Benny opened it, letting in the sound of distant cars on the road and the smell of dust from the parking lot.

  Silence fell as his phone went out of reach of the Bluetooth speaker. Chris stood and looked at Jay-Cee as if he knew everything Jay-Cee had been thinking. He probably did.

  8 – I like the way you look, I know you like me

  Chris broke the staring stalemate. “I have an idea that might help.”

  “In the next twenty minutes?” Jay-Cee raised an eyebrow.

  Chris smiled and went over to the old wide couch pushed against one wall of the studio. He felt Jay-Cee’s eyes on him the whole time. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Jay-Cee glancing at the door to the street before taking a step towards Chris.

  Chris sank down gracefully on the couch, eyes locked on Jay-Cee. Languidly, he reached over the arm of the couch and pulled out a basketball. Tilting his head with a small smile, he asked, “A little one-on-one?”

  The laugh it pulled from Jay-Cee was worth the effort it cost Chris to keep his game face on. He was only half joking since Jay-Cee did need to get out of his head. Chris had seen art block before; in others, and in himself. Jay-Cee was getting caught in a vicious cycle of self-doubt and second-guessing.

  Jay-Cee faced Chris across the cracked asphalt behind the studio. Hidden behind a hedge, it was more an open flat place near the river than an actual court. But someone had put a hoop in at one time opposite where the old café table sat.

  “I haven’t played basketball in ages.” Jay-Cee couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face. He held the ball in his hands, rocking side to side a little, testing the feel of his work boots against the ground. They should be okay, but his jeans were already sticking to his thighs.

  “Scared, Old Man?” Chris taunted. The sun was warm on his skin, and the breeze felt amazing, but he couldn’t claim that was the only reason he’d taken off his t-shirt and thrown it on the ground. The heat of Jay-Cee’s eyes on his body might have had something to do with it.

  Jay-Cee tossed the ball from hand to hand. “Bring it on, whippersnapper.”

  They dodged and weaved around each other in the bright sunlight, laughing and groaning whenever the other made a basket. Chris’s mind emptied of everything that wasn’t the game and Jay-Cee’s body.

  Jay-Cee faked right, then darted off to his left, dodging around Chris with a grin. With his left hand, he hooked the ball in a perfect arc. It sailed through the air and dropped like a dream into the basket. “Nothing but net.”

  Chris stared at him open-mouthed.

  Jay-Cee jogged over to get the ball. “I played at West Point,” he said breathing heavily.

  Chris pointed at him accusingly. “You’re a ringer. And you went to West Point?”

  “It’s a family tradition.” Jay-Cee smiled and flipped the ball at Chris. “Just play.”

  Chris tried to do a runaround but ended up with his back to the basket and Jay-Cee’s chest to his back. Jay-Cee reached around Chris trying to slap the ball out of his hand. Chris pivoted on one foot, ducking under Jay-Cee’s arm to make another shot. The ball bounced off the backboard.

  Jay-Cee grabbed it on the rebound at the same time as Chris pivoted back, and they slammed into each other, chest first. Chris’s arm went around Jay-Cee’s waist for balance. Chris darted in for a quick kiss and Jay-Cee dropped the ball. Chris grabbed it and shot it off the backboard and into the net.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s a foul,” Benny called from the sidelines. He sat with his back against a tree, eating a taco and sipping from a waxy paper cup.

  Chris jogged over to Benny. “You’ve been sitting there letting my food get cold, you bastard?”

  Benny noisily slurped his soda. “You looked like you were having a good time getting your gay ass beat. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

  He gave Chris some serious side-eye as Chris sat next to him. They hadn’t talked about whatever was going on between Jay-Cee and Chris. Mainly because Chris had no idea what he was doing. Playing with fire probably summed it up best.

  Jay-Cee walked over to them, wiping his forehead with the hem of his t-shirt and giving Chris and Benny a good look at his tattooed and muscled abs in the process. Benny gave Chris a quick thumbs up, wiping his face of all expression when Jay-Cee reached down for his lunch. Benny handed the bag up to him. “It’s good to see you having fun, Major.”

  “Speaking of that,” Chris interjected. “Did you know he went to West Point?”

  “Yeah?” Benny squinted at Jay-Cee. “That explains so much, sir.”

  “Can it, Marine.” Jay-Cee dropped down on the grass in front of them.

  Benny saluted sloppily. “Sir, yes, sir.”

  They ate quickly, listening to the sound of the river as the breeze dried the sweat from Chris’s skin.

  Back in the studio, it took Chris’s eyes a minute to adjust to the dim lighting. He walked over to the big sink and turned the water on. The cool water felt great on his hands, and he wiped himself off with some paper towels.

  Jay-Cee grimaced as he stood in the center of the studio. “I’m going to take a shower. Do you need a clean shirt?” he asked Chris.

  “I’m good like this if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind,” Jay-Cee said.

  Benny slid back onto his stool. “I mind. Put on a shirt; this is a respectable establishment, and I don’t need to be blinded by the sun bouncing off your porcelain skin.”

  Chris was torn. It was hard to get a read on Jay-Cee. The man was a cipher. Was he offering a shirt or more? If it were more than just a shirt on offer, did Chris want it or would it screw everything up?

  Benny put his headphones back in and went back to work.

  Jay-Cee walked over to Chris. “Come upstairs and get a shirt.”

  That Chris could understand; a nice clear statement. With a sigh of relief, Chris followed Jay-Cee up the stairs to his apartment.

  Jay-Cee’s apartment was an open space about twenty-five feet in one direction and twenty in the other. Exposed brick and large windows took up two of the walls, while a kitchen occupied the third. A freestanding screen separated the bedroom area and, Chris assumed, a bathroom from the rest of the space.

  Chris examined the room while Jay-Cee disappeared behind the screen. The sun streamed through the windows, burnishing the pale wood cabinets in the kitchen and washing out the neutral shades of the furniture and area rugs. The whole space felt light and airy. Abstract paintings on the wall and a turquoise tea kettle on the stove added the only spots of color.

  Chris walked over to one of the paintings and studied it, hands shoved into his back pockets. Thick swathes of acrylic paint in bright colors in every shade and tint of red from burgundy to hot pink filled a four foot by three foot unframed canvas.

  Jay-Cee came up behind him. “What do you think?”

  Chris stared at the painting longer, the colors leading his eyes down and around the canvas.
“The colors are beautiful. And the patterns of the brushstrokes just,” he gestured with his hand, “swoops you along. It’s bright but somehow sad, though.” He pointed at a deep dried-blood red streak. “This color is everywhere, even beneath this gorgeous pink here. Did you paint it?”

  “Yeah. In my Rothko period right after I got out of the army.” He draped a T-shirt over Chris’s shoulder.

  “Just don’t slit your wrists at sixty-six like he did.” Chris pulled the shirt off his shoulder and turned around.

  “I’m not planning on it,” Jay-Cee said. His smile seemed genuine, and he was relaxed in a way Chris couldn’t remember seeing before. “Is the t-shirt okay? Do you want to take a shower?”

  “Should I?” Chris wasn’t sure if that was a real question. He still wanted to jump Jay-Cee’s bones, and he could tell Jay-Cee still wanted him. But the air between them held none of the strange tension that made Chris want to do whatever Jay-Cee told him to do. Jay-Cee seemed actually relaxed.

  Jay-Cee shrugged. “That’s up to you.”

  Damn it. Chris debated his options, trying to see where each choice led. He wished he knew what the right decision was. Opting for what felt like the safest choice, Chris pulled the t-shirt over his head. “Then no, thank you. I’m going to run after work, and I’ll only get sweaty again. Thanks for the shirt, though.” It was a soft faded black t-shirt that had a star and the slogan ‘Army Strong’ across the front.

  “Looks good on you. And thanks for the one-on-one. I think it helped.”

  “Yeah?” Chris smiled. “It was fun. Even though you totally hustled me.”

  Jay-Cee laughed. “Only a little. It’s been awhile since I did anything just for fun.”

  “That’s a crying shame. You’re very good at...” Chris paused long enough for it to be noticeable, “having fun.” Maybe he’d picked wrong, maybe he should have taken a shower. Taking a chance, Chris reached for Jay-Cee, hooking a finger through his belt loop.