*Wyl*

Finally the footsteps he was waiting to hear sounded outside the door. There was a pause, and then the door opened. Wyl had his knees tucked up under his chin, still sitting on the couch but turned to face the entryway. Robbie came inside, glancing over at him. He was in full dress uniform, as black as night, crisp-cornered and decorated with medals across the chest. He was carrying a small black bag, which he set on the ground. He took off his hat and set it on top of the bag. He looked like a recruiting poster for the armed services, except for the resignation in his expression.

"Robbie—"

"Don't say it again," Robbie said wearily, running one hand over his short-cut hair. "No more protestations of what you do and don't want, okay?"

"But I need to tell you—"

"I don't want to hear it, Wyl!"

"I need to tell you I'm sorry!" Wyl shouted, then grimaced and shut his eyes. He felt like smacking his head. "Fuck. I don't mean to yell at you."

"Why have you been yelling at me?"

"Maybe because if I yell loud enough, I can't hear myself think." He opened his eyes. "Will you sit down?"

"In a minute. I need to get out of this gear." Robbie glanced into the kitchen. "You had something to eat?"

"Leesie came by. She did the dishes too, so don't inadvertently thank me."

"Wasn't planning on it." Robbie walked back into the bedroom. Wyl listened to the rustle of cloth and tried not to think about the butterflies in his stomach. He had no idea what was going to happen next.

Robbie came back out after a few moments, dressed in gray sweatpants and a t-shirt. He took the other side of the couch. "I want to tell you what annoys me about you."

Wyl blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I want to tell you so you won't have to guess about what bugs the hell out of me. This is for future reference, so pay attention."

It was hardly the beginning Wyl had been envisioning, but he supposed he deserved to hear it. "Okay."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Robbie took a deep breath. "You have an overdeveloped sense of drama and an underdeveloped sense of logic. You're self-centered, stubborn and creatively self-destructive. You'd rather indulge an illusion instead of bother to discover the truth. You—"

"What the fuck?" Wyl was getting angry.

"I'm not finished," Robbie said calmly. "You respond to things that make you uncomfortable with too many strong emotions and not enough reason. You have a ridiculously low sense of self-worth, making you prone to ridiculing yourself and the people you choose to associate with."

"Did you get this psychobabble from Jane?"

"See?"

"Oh really? Well you're a smug, overbearing ass who presents himself as infallible to the world but can barely stand to show his real emotions, so there." The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to censor them. "Fuck, fuck, fuck me."

But Robbie was smiling.

"That's probably true," he acknowledged. "Neither of us is perfect. There's no way in hell we're going to achieve perfection. You'll probably annoy me for as long as we're together, and I can guarantee that I'll annoy you. But partnerships are built on understanding. Patience. Love. I need you to be patient with me. I need you to love me."

"I do love you."

"But you don't love you. You were so convinced that I wanted this job more than I wanted to stay here that you were willing to take away my choice in an attempt to save me from it." He scooted a little closer on the couch, reached out, and grabbed one of Wyl's hands. "Get this through your head: I love you. You annoy me, and I love you. You delight me, and I love you. You frustrate the hell out of me, and you confuse me, and when I'm with you I know that I have a lot to learn about being with you. I need to deserve you."

Wyl was stung. "You do deserve me. What the fuck, Robbie? You saved my life, you put your career on the line for me, you took me out of hell. I'm the one who isn't deserving."

"That is exactly what I mean,” Robbie said. “Stop thinking that. Give yourself some credit. You're way smarter than I am, way more creative, and a lot tougher. You understand things that I couldn't even start guessing at. Quit projecting like you're a lesser human being, because you aren't."

Wyl was quiet for a moment. "Jane did coach you, there's no way you'd say 'projecting' to me."

Robbie grinned. "You're right. My first impulse was to say something like 'stop being a dickhead,' but Jane thought I could do better."

"Calling me a dickhead would have worked too." They were quiet for a long moment, just gripping each other's hand. "So. What were you talking to the general about?"

"About Jane."

"Why?"

"I told Miles I thought he should offer Jane the job."

Wyl blinked. "Whoa. Really?"

"Yeah. I talked him into meeting her, they hit it off and she accepted the post. She leaves in two days. Leesie and T are going to throw her a hell of a going-away party."

"And that's okay with you? You won't regret not taking the job?"

Robbie shrugged. "Maybe a little. I'm on the short list for new hires once the operation is on its feet and your bond is paid off. I might still get a shot at military service again. If it happens, that's good." He leaned across the couch and pressed his chest against Robbie's knees. "But that's all it is. You're everything I want." He leaned closer and brought his lips next to Wyl's. "I need you."

Wyl smiled. "Then you should have me, don't you think?"