Grafenwoehr, Germany
November 20th, 2013
1730 hrs
The two stopped by the barracks to change before heading out that night. Like a bunch of school kids, Nathan had insisted that Nixon come over and get ready with him, to which Nixon willfully obliged. They used to always get ready together anyways, whether it was to military balls or even on double dates. Tonight Nixon had decided to go with a thick, dark leather jacket over a Foster The People T-shirt. His leather jacket had been an old gift from his father before he left for the army, and even though it was slightly tighter now, it still fit like a glove. It was his comfiest article of clothing, and he paired it with a dark set of jeans and a set of deep brown combat boots. Nathan always joked that he dressed like those “edgy tumblr kids,” but as far as he knew… This is how everyone back home dressed. Nathan, on the other hand, was dressed a little more preppy. With his deep blue cardigan sweater over a white button down, fitted khakis, and deep brown dress shoes, Nathan looked more like he was on his way to an interview… Or a really uppity yacht party. Nathan adjusted his collar in front of the mirror on the back of his wall locker, glancing over at Nixon who was fussing with his hair in the bathroom mirror. The small barracks room felt even smaller with both of them trying to get ready at the same time, the air filled with a mix of aftershave and the faint hum of conversation.
"You heard about Martinez? He finally got an award for that drug bust he did on the other side of post. Hearing that shit was insane," Nathan said, his voice carrying a hint of pride for their friend.
Nixon, running his fingers through his hair in frustration, gave a nod. "Yeah, good for him. He's worked his ass off for it. Well-deserved." He grumbled. Nixon couldn’t decide what kind of style he wanted his hair in at this point. He never wanted to cut his hair too much so the top was left fairly long, but the sides were neatly shaven and in regulation. Right now he felt like no matter how much product he put in, something was sticking up somewhere and it was driving him mad. Nathan chuckled, stepping over to help Nixon with his hair. "Here, let me help you idiot. You'd think all those years in uniform would make this easier."
“I can do it myself.” Nixon grumbled.
“Clearly not, you’re looking a lot more like Beetlejuice right now than anything.” Nathan fired back with a quick chuckle and an easy smile. Nixon glared at the other as he watched him finish with his own collar then head over to him. Nathan reached up and began deftly working on Nixon's hair, their faces were close, and Nixon could feel the warmth of Nathan's breath. For a brief moment, their eyes met, and Nixon thought he saw something in Nathan's gaze, a flicker of longing, but he quickly dismissed it as his imagination. "So, how’s it been with the new platoon? Whatcha think of the guys in the unit?" Nathan asked, his fingers moving smoothly through Nixon's hair. He eyed the tub of hair gel next to the sink and with one hand holding a tuff of hair in one place, he swiftly dipped his fingers in the club and began working on the patch he had. Nixon shrugged, glancing to the side at his reflection in the mirror. "Its’s actually been really good, there’s some real good characters here. Like Sergeant Kelsey, Kelsey’s a good guy. Tough, but fair. Reminds me a bit of you, actually." Nixon said with a bit of a smirk. Rouge was one of the squad leaders in Nixon’s platoon, and probably the second closest person to Nixon. Rouge grew up in the capital of Poland, Warsaw, so the two were able to bond over their strict slavic backgrounds. Ironically, he also enlisted out of California, so the two spent a lof of their reminiscing not only about their slavic upbringing, but their weirdly American ones too. While Nathan was accepting and patient when it came to his accent and background, it felt nice to have someone who actually understood. He occasionally came to hang out with Nathan and Nixon, but since he worked with intelligence his time was a little scarce. He was 23, just like Nixon, having been in about the same amount of time as Nixon. With his mischievous dark green eyes and neat dark hair, Rouge had been pretty popular within the unit. Though, like Nixon, he didn’t seem to have much of an interest in fraternization, preferring to spend his time in the Sensitive Information Facility where he worked. For whatever reason, Nathan hadn’t seemed as keen on their friend as
Nathan's smile faded slightly, his brow furrowing. "Rouge Kelsey, huh? Just... be careful around him, alright? There's something a bit off about his energy." Nixon laughed, brushing off Nathan's concern. "What, are you jealous, Bri?" Nathan quickly shook his head, a defensive edge to his tone. "No, it's not that. I just want you to be cautious… I don’t know, you don’t think there's something off about him?"
Nixon tried to think on it, but he genuinely couldn’t think of anything. Rouge had taken the initiative to introduce himself when they first met, and he had been nothing helpful not only to himself, but for his soldiers. If there was anyone that he could trust other than Nate, it was Rouge… But still. Maybe Nathan sees something that he doesn’t? Regardless, this didn’t stop Nixon from teasing Nathan farther.
“I don’t see anything, the only thing I can see is that giant ass nose hair coming out your nostril. “ Nixon teased, reaching up to flick Nathan on the tip of his nose. Nathan gasped and checked the mirror, pulling his nose up to check. Nixon chuckled as Nathan’s face sank and he glared over at the other. “Ha ha fucker… Nice try.” Nixon smirked, but he couldn't help but notice the way Nathan looked at him, a soft, almost longing gaze that lingered a moment too long. He quickly pushed the thought aside, convincing himself it was just his imagination.
"Alright, alright though," Nixon said, still grinning. "Thanks for the help with my hair. It's been driving me nuts." Nixon went to pat his hair but the blond batted his hand away. “Don't touch it.” Nathan mumbled as he gave a final tweak, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "Better?" he asked, his voice a low murmur. Nixon turned to the mirror and peered at himself. His onyx hair now sat neatly combed and gelled to the side, the strands glistening and shining as he moved. "Yeah, much better. Thanks," Nixon replied, their eyes meeting once more in the mirror. Nathan wore a warm smile, and Nixon couldn’t help but acknowledge how well dressed both parties were, but especially Nathan. He was always the more extroverted one of the two, so naturally he was usually the one to put more effort into his appearance. Yet tonight, he looked very casual and carefree, which is one of the things that Nixon admired the most about him.
"Ready to go?" Nathan asked, breaking the moment.
"Yeah, let’s get out of here," Nixon replied, pushing the lingering thoughts aside as they headed out the door, the night promising a blend of laughter, memories, and whole lot of alcohol.
----------------------------------------
The Red Oak
November 20th, 2013
1815 hrs
The bar, known as "The Red Oak," was a cozy yet lively establishment nestled in a quaint corner of the town. Its exterior featured rustic wooden panels and a neon sign flickering with the bar's name in vibrant red letters. Inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, with dim lighting casting a golden glow over the room. The walls were adorned with vintage military memorabilia, photographs of soldiers, and flags from various units. A long, polished wooden bar ran along one side, lined with high stools where soldiers chatted and flirted with the local bartenders, hoping to find themselves a wife. Opposite the bar, a series of wooden tables and plush booths offered seating for groups. The center of the room was left open, often used for impromptu games or dance-offs, adding to the lively vibe. In one corner, a jukebox played a mix of classic rock and contemporary hits, filling the room with a steady stream of music that set the mood for the evening. The bar was alive with energy when they arrived. Laughter, chatter, and the clinking of glasses filled the air. Nathan’s platoon had taken over a corner of the room, their camaraderie evident in the way they welcomed each other. As soon as Nathan and Nixon stepped inside, a cheer went up from the group.
“Brier! Cannard! Over here!” shouted a tall, burly soldier who introduced himself as Sergeant Martinez. He was short and stocky, but clearly worked out as his navy blue t-shirt clung to his skin. Martinez’s hair remained in the same neat comb over from work, and the scar that ran through his upper lips became more pronounced when he smiled.
Nathan led Nixon over to the table, where they were greeted with a round of applause and a chorus of cheers. Tall beer glasses were quickly shoved into their hands, and the celebration began in earnest. Nixon looked around as Nathan began chatting and hooting with his guys, he recognized a few of Nathan’s soldiers but knew he was only at an acquaintance level. He continued to look around until his eyes fell on Reynolds, who was currently bent over the pool table about to shoot his shot. He carefully weaved his way through the crowd of soldiers as he made his way over to the pool table, careful not to spill his drink. Once he made it, he clapped Reynolds on the back, grinning. “Ya better not miss, Big Sarn’t”
“HA! Not in your life kiddo. Watch and learn.” Reynolds glanced back for a moment before focusing back on his game. Carefully, he made sure his aim on the while pool ball was accurate before jutting the stick forward, hitting the ball with force. Unfortunately for him, the ball hit the corner just wrong, and instead of hitting the balls he needed, the ball went right into one of the corner holes. SFC Reynolds pursed his lips. “Oops. You distracted me.”
“Uh huh.” Nixon snickered. Reynolds straightened up and turned to him, beaming once more. “Glad to see you and Brier out and letting loose, Cannard. Was getting a bit worried that you’d be overworking yourself. You’re looking good!”
Nixon looked down at himself. It wasn’t much, but he supposed that Reynolds hadn’t seen him outside of uniform before, so anything was better than nothing. “Thank you, you as well.” Nixon responded, eyeing Reynold’s salmon polo and baggy blue jeans that reminded everyone that he was a dad (they didn’t need reminding, the mustache said it all.)
The conversation was short lived as few of the junior soldiers burst into the group around the pool table. “We’re saying cheers y’all! C’mon over!” One of the privates yelled, nearly stumbling and spilling his drink a little. One of them grabbed Nixon by the shoulders and shook him eagerly, a cheesy grin plastered on his baby cheeks. “CMON SERGEANT! PARTY!!”
“Okay okay!” Nixon laughed and shook his head, trying to prevent his drink from spilling. Together they huddled over a large booth, where Robbins sat in the middle. Nathan and Sergeant Martinez had their arms wrapped around him, their beers raised shakily. Both were absolutely plastered and it was so obvious.
“To Sergeant Robbins, the best damn soldier we’ve got! We love ya kiddo!” Martinez bellowed, raising his glass in a toast to the newly promoted NCO. The others followed suit, clinking their glasses together before taking hearty swigs. Nathan ruffled Robbin’s hair as he sipped, the two of them giggling like children. The sight warmed Nixon’s heart, and he couldn’t help but smile the same cheesy smile as the two of them. Nixon found himself relaxing as the night went on. Nathan’s platoon was a friendly, tight-knit group, and their enthusiasm was infectious. He chatted with several of them, exchanging stories and getting to know the people Nathan had spent so much time with.
As the night progressed, the mood grew even more jubilant. A few of Nixon’s troops had shown up so he began socializing with them, chatting about dumb MP training stories and reminiscing on the past years of their service. Occasionally he would glance over at Nathan, who was either taking a shot with someone, singing along to the music, or telling some kind of story that had his troops enraptured. He couldn’t help but chuckle at how much Nathan was in his element, it was sweet to see. The group moved from their corner to the bar, where a line of pitchers and mugs were set up for a beer chugging contest. Nathan, ever the life of the party, turned to Nixon with a gleam in his eye.
“You up for a challenge, Cannard?” Nathan asked, already knowing the answer. Nixon chuckled, shaking his head. “You know I can’t turn down a good contest. Let’s do it.” Was it a good idea? Probably not. Nixon could already feel his resolve fading, he himself had already had a decent bit to drink. He can typically hold his drink very well, but he was teetering an unfamiliar line right now. Nathan was definitely worse for wear, his cheeks now flushed as an indication of his intoxication. Getting home would be interesting tonight. They joined the line of eager participants, each of them eyeing the pitchers in front of them. Nathan’s platoon members gathered around, cheering and shouting encouragement.
“Alright, on my count!” Martinez shouted, acting as the impromptu referee. The man was just as flushed as the rest of them, his speech slurred as he pressed clumsily at his watch. “Three, two, one—chug!”
The room erupted in cheers as the contestants lifted their pitchers and began chugging. Nixon could feel the cold beer rushing down his throat, the familiar burn of carbonation making his eyes water. German beer was different, and he wasn’t much of a chugger. Beside him, Nathan was gulping down his drink with impressive speed. The cheers grew louder as the pitchers emptied. Nixon could hear Nathan’s platoon shouting his name, their enthusiasm spurring him on. He focused on the task, determined not to let Nathan beat him too easily.
As he neared the bottom of his pitcher, Nixon stole a glance at Nathan. His friend was just a few gulps ahead, his face red from the effort. Nixon locked in and inhaled the best he could, and with a final, determined swallow, Nixon finished his beer and slammed the pitcher down on the bar, narrowly beating Nathan.
The room exploded with applause and laughter. Nathan set his empty pitcher down, beer foam flowing down his chin as he gave a light cough, shaking his head in mock defeat. “Damn, Cannard. I forgot how good you are at this.” Nixon grinned, wiping the foam from his mouth. “Takes a lot to beat me, Brier. That’s why you don't mess with a commie.”
Nathan’s eyes sparkled with pride and camaraderie. “You earned it, man. Drinks are on me for the rest of the night.” He threw his arm around Nixon and pressed their hot cheeks together, his breaths shallow and smelling of beer. ‘He’s so drunk,’ Nixon thought, his own intoxication beginning to creep up on him.
They spent the rest of the evening celebrating, the beer chugging contest just one of many highlights. Nixon found himself more relaxed and content than he had been in years, the easy camaraderie of Nathan’s platoon making him feel at home. Not long after the competition,, Nixon had found himself leaning against the bar nursing a beer and chatting with a few of the other platoon’s soldiers. The air was thick with the smell of beer and camaraderie.
"That was impressive, Cannard," a familiar voice called out over the jukebox. Nixon turned to see Rouge Kelsey making his way through the crowd, a grin plastered on his face. "Thanks, Kelsey," Nixon replied, raising his glass in acknowledgment. "Didn't think I had it in me."
Rouge chuckled, sidling up to the bar beside him. His deep black hair was in a similar comb over as the other troops, and over a black t-shirt he wore a simple red flannel with the sleeves rolled up. The red of his flannel made his bright green eyes pop, and with the easy smile that he tended to have it was no surprise that he was a favorite amongst the unit. He was a handsome dude, Nixon wouldn’t deny it. "You surprised us all. Pretty sure you made a few fans tonight."
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
Nixon smirked. "Just trying to keep up with Nathan." Rouge's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. "You and Nathan, huh? You two are pretty close. It's admirable, really. Not every day you see a bond like that." Nixon felt a flicker of something—pride, perhaps, mixed with a tinge of defensiveness. "We've been through a lot together. He’s a good guy." Rouge nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of his drink. "You know, I admire that kind of friendship. It's rare. Especially in our line of work."
"Yeah, well, it helps having someone you can trust," Nixon said, glancing across the room at Nathan, who was engaged in animated conversation with a group of soldiers. One soldier gave Nate a firm but playful shrug, making him spill his beer. Nathan couldn’t care less, as he threw his head back and let out a loud howling laugh that filled the bar.
Rouge's expression softened. "You're a lucky man, Cannard. Not just for having a friend like Nathan, but for being the leader you are. Your soldiers respect you. Hell, I respect the shit out of you."
Nixon was taken aback by the compliment. "Damn Kelsey, that’s really kind of you to say. I appreciate it."
Rouge clinked his glass against Nixon's. "Just calling it like I see it. Not everyone has what it takes to lead, but you've got it in spades. Nathan's lucky to work with a soldier of your caliber."
Nixon smiled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. "I appreciate that. Really."
Rouge leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. The bustle of the bar roared in Nixon’s intoxicated ears, so he had to keen in really hard to hear the other. "Just remember, Cannard. In this world, trust and loyalty are everything. Don't let anything come between that. You do that, you’re set. The minute you start to falter… " The tan skinned male paused for a moment, his lips pursing before he continued. “Just watch your back. We need you in this section. In this unit, man.”
Nixon’s eyebrows furrowed at the rather ominous tone that Rouge gave. Maybe this was the strange energy that Nathan gave off? Yet just as quickly as the tone came, it went, and Rouge straightened back up and gave a charming smile. With slight hesitation, Nixon nodded, sensing the weight behind Rouge's words. "I won't. Thanks, Kels."
With a final nod, Rouge drifted back into the crowd, leaving Nixon with his thoughts. He glanced over at Nathan again, their eyes meeting for a brief moment. Nathan flashed a quick, reassuring smile, and Nixon couldn’t help but return it.
‘Trust and loyalty, huh?’ Nixon thought to himself as he took a sip of his beer.
What did Rouge know that Nixon didn’t?
Later, as the bar began to empty and the celebration wound down, Nathan and Nixon found themselves standing outside, the cool night air a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the bar. Nathan had bummed a cigarette from Nixon, insisting over and over again that he “doesn’t smoke nasty cigarettes” and that Nixon is a “bad, naughty influence.”
“Tonight was good, wasn’t it Nixxy baby?” Nathan clapped Nixon on the back.
Nixon nodded, a genuine smile on his face. He stumbled forward a bit when Nathan clapped him, though it didn’t seem to phase him. “Yeah, it was. Thanks for bringing me out, Bri. I needed this more than I realized.”Nathan grinned, his eyes twinkling in the dim light.
“Anytime, Nixon. Anytime.” Nathan smiled warmly, taking a drag of his cigarette. “What do you say we get outta here? My bed is calling me tenderly.”
“You got that right.” Nixon agreed, sticking his cigarette in his mouth and whipping out his phone to call the taxi. The buttons on his phone were going blurry, and as he struggled to punch in the numbers, he felt himself stumble as Nathan threw an arm around him and began swaying. "Nixon?" Nathan leaned into the other, holding his cigarette out to his side as not to burn the other. Nathan was so close he was knocking Nixon off balance. Nixon stumbled and chuckled, wrapping his other arm around Nathan as he tried to concentrate. Despite how drunk they were, how cold the night was, the ominous advice from Rouge... The dark haired Russian was as content and happy as could be.
"Hmm?"
"Can we get McDonalds? I might throw up or cry if we don't."
Nevermind.
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Grafenwoehr, Germany
November 20th, 2013
0200 hrs
“Jesus christ it’s cold!” The tall blond laughed as he swung open the door to his room, damn near waking up everybody on the floor. “I know, I can't feel my fucking hands dude..” The dark haired man with the Russian accent followed, his giggles matching those of his friend’s. It had been a long night of drinking and partying, and it felt so wonderful to be home. It was a bitter cold night in Germany, the cold just now setting in as the year came to an end. The base was silent at this time of night, except for the bustle of drunken soldiers casually strolling in after nights that matched the ones that these two had. The blond, obviously plastered out of his mind, gripped the sink before him as he placed his head in his hand, giggling like a little school girl. “Can… Cannard..!”
“Oh c'mon man, you’re telling me a country boy like you can’t hold his drink?”
“Fucking hell I cant stop laughing.. Can you get me some water dammit!!” The male exclaimed, unable to contain his now wheezing laughter. Cannard couldn’t help but laugh along with him, his laughter was just too contagious. The dark haired male pattered over to the fridge, clumsily rolling a water bottle out from the bottom shelf and pittering over to his friend. “Let’s go Bri, I’m putting you to bed.”
“Oh shut the fuck up, it’s the weekend! I’m staying up allll~ night!”
“Nooo you are not,” Cannard protested, handing his buddy the water with one hand and firmly gripping his shoulder with the other. “-Because some of us, aka you, have work tomorrow.” “Ah fuck… ‘Kay.” Brier grumbled, allowing Nixon to guide him through the bedroom door and onto the bed. Brier loosely wobbled for a minute before plunking on his side on the bed and watching as Cannard took the bottle from his hand and placed it on the floor.
“Nixon~?”
“Yes, Nathan?” Nixon rolled his eyes at the other, speaking in the same cooing tone that the other had used. “Did you notice that one girl hitting on you at the bar?”
“Huh?” Nixon asked, mostly because he couldn't hear that well right now, but also because what he did hear genuinely confused him. “Nixon~??”
“What?”
“You were flirting with her weren’t you~?”
“Are you talking about the redhead? I wouldn’t exactly call that my type.” While they were out and about, Nixon had struck up a conversation with one of the local women. While she had been beautiful, with bright green eyes, red hair and a beauty mark by her chin, Nixon had not really been out in search of a lay. He was mostly out to celebrate his soldier's promotion.
“She’s a cutie, you should go for it..” Brier reached down and grabbed his water, his eyes droopily closing as he took a sip sideways. A little dripped from the edge of his lips, causing Nixon to chuckle softly and use his sleeve to wipe it off. The blond muttered a thank you before looking up at him. “You’ve always been so quiet, I’ve only seen you with women a handful of times. Are you keeping things from me, Cannard?! DO YOU NOT LOVE ME ANYMORE?!” The blond flung his arms out dramatically, his water bottle sloshing some water onto the floor as he did so.
“Oh shut your mouth! It’s not that!” Nixon couldn’t help but laugh at how soft Brier gets when he's drunk. Nixon drank just about the same, but his old days in the barracks made him less likely to get… messy like this. We aren’t talking about a small statured person either, Nixon was a large man but Brier was more packed muscle wise by a long shot. Both were PT studs, but it always seemed that Brier could excel where Nixon lacked proficiency. The male admired the other, so much so it was borderline jealousy. “I’m just not a slut like you.” Nixon teased as he sat on the bed beside the other’s head. “I love the military too much, you know this.”
“Oh… You… You should bang that girl who works in Admin. You know which one I’m talkin’ about.”
“Nathan Brier.”
“I..! Am just saying.”
“Well because you wanna snoop and you never wanna answer me.. How are you and Vanessa? How is little Nate doing too?”
“Yeah about that...” Brier mumbled sort of briskly, “We uh… We split back in May.”
“What?! Is that why you’ve been avoiding the question?!” Nixon sputtered, taken aback by this sudden news. Nixon had always teased Nathan because they always seemed so starstruck together, he never would have suspected that they would have any kind of problems. Yet he spoke so nonchalantly. “ Yeah man,” Brier sighed, sitting up lazily and bracing himself up against his pillow. “It just didn’t click I guess.. We just had some self discovery to do. We got married so young so we fought a lot I guess.. It wasn’t healthy for Nate Jr..” This was probably the most serious tone Nixon had ever heard from Nathan, noting how the male’s brows furrowed and his mouth formed a slight frown.
“Do you miss them?”
“Sometimes… Especially Nate.. I think this is for the best though,” He shrugged. Nixon was speechless for a moment, still taken aback. He could have sworn that he saw the other’s lips tremble. “Damn man.. Then we really need to get you back out there! You know how many Germans there are out there who would love a blondie like you? “ Nixon spoke up, trying to sound and appear more upbeat by playfully nudging the other. Brier cocked an eyebrow and shrugged once more, not looking at him. “C’mon Nate, so we’re both single out here! We might as well live it up! Don’t tell me you’ve gone fruity on me!” Nixon continued, eyeing the other searching for even an inkling of a reaction. Brier remained silent, staring off into what seemed like nothing. The room was silent, the only noise that could be made was the soft humming of the vents going. Did he say something wrong? Did he not like German girls? Was his joke offensive? Di-
“Hold up..” Nixon mumbled, his eyes once again going wide at the other. “Did.. you go- Are you..?”
“Well…”
“I… OHHH!!” A lightbulb went off in his head, and Nixon promptly smacked himself on the forehead. “I-.. Jesus Nate… I’m so sorry..”
“It’s okay.”
“Nah nah.. I wouldn’t have made that joke if I would have known- wait you like-”
“It’s a sort of new thing man, I swear it’s okay.”
“But-”
“Shhh..” The blonde male sat up and pressed his finger against the other’s lips. It seemed like he had begun to sober up since he wasn’t as wobbly, which made Nixon a little weary. Nixon went to speak again, but stopped when Brier took a deep breath as though he was going to say something. “I think I’ve always been like this, I only realized a few months before the divorce.. Don’t spread that shit around the unit, okay?”
“No… No of course not, Bri..” Nixon began to trail off, and stopped as he turned and faced forward. His eyes fixated on the lamp on Brier’s desk, he had no idea what to say now. This was a lot to take in.. What was he supposed to say now? It got quiet once again and Nixon heard Nathan give a long sigh before slowly slumping against his shoulder. He felt the other put his weight on him, which caused a gentle frown. “Nix…?”
“Hmm?”
“Have you ever thought about being with a guy?”
“Uh- Huh??” Nixon looked down at Brier, who was staring up at him with glossy eyes. “What-“
“I’m sorry. Bad question?”
“I- uh- It’s just… I- No??” Nixon replied, shaking his head and facing forward once more. What kinda fucking question was that? And why was he acting all bashful all of a sudden?? The truth was… “I just… It never crossed my mind, Nate. What are you getting at?”
“Do you wanna know?”
…
Okay. He was gonna ignore that Brier was saying anything. He began nervously tapping his feet, his eye shifting to the ground. This was one of his best friends after all.. What was he trying to prove??
“Cannard..” The blond’s husky voice murmured. Nixon felt two fingers press gently against the other side of his jaw, his body stiffening as he was slowly turned to look at the other. He watched as Nate shifted to an upright position, the mattress dipping as the other hand was placed directly behind Nixon. He felt cornered, being forced to be so close to the drunken man. At this point there was no telling how fucked up Nate was, all he knew was that he was getting dangerously close…
“Hey,” Surprisingly soft fingers traced the outline of his stiffened jaw, and Nixon had to avert his eyes as he felt the other’s piercing eyes on him. “Look at me.” He heard the other coax him and felt him lean forward. Wow… Hot breath on his neck.., Okay.. Weird… Chills up the spine… Even worse.
“Nixon,” The dark haired male held his breath, feeling every letter imprint itself onto his neck. “-I won’t do anything without your permission… Just tell me when to stop..” Jesus.. Nixon couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t get the words out. This was all kinds of wrong, this was one of his boys; he had never even entertained the idea that he was even a little attracted to men.
Yet everything about him burned. Nathan’s hand on his chin migrated to his face, cupping his cheek as he drew closer. He couldn’t bring himself to tell him no, not because he was uncomfortable; he wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest… Which was honestly the weirdest part. “Nate-”
And then he felt the warmth against his lips and he froze. Nathan’s lips were rougher than any of the women that he’d ever been with, yet held a softness that Nixon never knew he had. His eyes had widened as Nate’s closed, and he knew that he should have pushed him off. This was weird, his MALE BEST FRIEND was kissing him. He had to get him off, he HAD to…
Yet despite these thoughts, he found his eyelids fluttering half shut, his body slowly but surely melting into the other’s touch. Their lips and bodies moved cautiously at first, the kiss starting as a prolonged peck and quickly deepend. Nathan, still wobbly, swayed a bit as he inched a bit closer, one hand still holding himself up and the other moving to the back of Nixon’s neck, where he guided the other’s head closer to his. When Nathan had slid his tongue in to taste Nixon’s, Nixon couldn't help but taste the beer on his tongue. He hadn’t meant to, but he heard himself make a soft breathy moan that he tried to catch in his throat but failed. He hadn’t realized that he was gripping the bed sheets until he reached up to grab Nathan’s arm, firmly gripping onto him but not pulling him away. ‘What the hell is going on… And what the HELL am I doing?!’ Nixon tried asking himself, but he felt like he was in a haze. A haze that his drunken self refused to pull out of. That is, until he felt the warmth that once began to envelope him pull away from him. It was then that he drowsily opened his eyes and leaned back on his palms, looking over to see Nathan still looking at him. This time, he looked concerned. “Cannard… Jesus…” Nathan breathed out, his cheeks flushed from both the alcohol and the encounter. He turned away, biting the corner of his lip and clearing his throat. “I um.. That was really fucked up of me. I know you don’t swing that way, I shouldn’t have.. Fuck I’m so drunk.” The stoic man placed his face in his hands, rubbing his face like there was something on it. Meanwhile, Nixon was blinking away his fogginess, his mind going haywire. The sudden temperature shift had brought him back to sober reality, and it sunk into him that he had just MADE OUT WITH HIS BEST FRIEND? His heart was pounding and he knew that his face was just as flushed. A million thoughts raced through his head, the same recurring thoughts and fears… Yet his foggy mind didn’t dare process any of it. He took a shaky breath, mouth turning to cotton as he just stared at the other. “Um… I should go.”
“Nix-“
“Sorry Bri um… Are you gonna be good?” He felt terrible for leaving him here but he swore if he stayed, he might actually go nuts. He stood up and dusted off his jacket, while Brier stared at him with a blank, almost confused look.
“Uh y-yeah I’ll be fine.. See you tomorrow?”
“Absolutely yeah!” Nixon said in a rushed voice, feeling like he needed to leave right that moment. “Yeah yeah dude I’ll uh… Yeah I’ll see you tomorrow! Okay yeah um.. Yeah… Bye..” Nixon nodded quickly and spun around, almost tripping over his drunken self. He didn’t hear a response from Nathan but he didn’t need it, he had already rushed out of the room as fast as he could. As he sped walked down the hallway he caught sight of Rouge, who was ushering one of his soldiers into their barracks room. Rouge squinted his eyes at Nixon and called out to him. “Cannard? You good?”
“Yup yup just… Need some air..” Nixon called out, hanging his head low. He needed more than air, he needed a whole new body. A whole new brain.
What the FUCK.
END OF CHAPTER 2