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Two could play that game. Wes tweaked Dustin’s nipple while sucking hard on his tongue. It felt less like making out and more like a battle, for what he wasn’t quite sure. Their movements and kisses were urgent, like their bodies were counting down to an invisible timer, one where they were both going to lose big, no matter who won this game. All his frustrations about the impossibility of their situation came out in the kiss, in the way he grabbed at Dustin. He needed him, needed this, and wasn’t sure how he was ever letting it go.
“Together. Together,” Dustin panted against Wes’s mouth. His hips were frantically fucking Wes’s fist. “Come with me. Please.”
Wes wanted to remind him that a tie wasn’t the point of the game, but that broken please got him closer than any touch. “Together,” he agreed.
Dustin’s mouth found Wes’s neck, the unexpected contact enough to make Wes gasp.
“Now,” Wes ordered. “Now.”
“Oh God. Yes.” Dustin trembled, body straining. Watching him struggle to comply undid the last of Wes’s resolve and he tumbled over, giving in to the pleasure, right as warmth hit his fist from Dustin’s orgasm. Unlike the crazed climax in the living room, this one was softer but no less all-encompassing. Their mouths met in another kiss, soft and lingering and more than a little sad, all that frustration and anger of the sex giving way to resignation and bitter reality.
They kissed until the hot water started to peter out, then kissed some more while toweling off.
“I’m not sure we ever found the soap.” Dustin’s voice was soft, a disappointment to his tone Wes wasn’t sure he’d heard before.
“It’s all right. I won’t tell.” Wes kept his voice light, kept close to Dustin, tried to block out what was coming next.
“You have to leave.” Dustin licked his lower lip as he wrapped the towel around his waist. It wasn’t really a question either, more a sad statement of reality.
“Yeah.” Wes pulled him close for one more kiss, one more chance to memorize his taste and scent and those little sighs he couldn’t get enough of. He pulled on his pants with jerky motions, shirt still back out in the living room.
“I hate this.” Dustin followed him back into the living room.
“I don’t.” Wes was defiant, each word coming out with a barbed edge. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat. And not only the sex. You had a shit day. You didn’t need to be alone. I’m not going to apologize for being your friend. For caring.”
“I care too.” Dustin’s voice was ragged, like the tear in Wes’s jeans from where he’d darn near busted his zipper, like Dustin was one thread away from unraveling. “And I hate that I care. Hate that I can’t seem to send you away.”
“Then don’t.” Wes finished pulling on his shirt, then pushed Dustin into the wall by the door, kissing him with a hard reminder of how deep they were both in this thing.
“Not alone.” Dustin traced Wes’s lips with his thumb. “Fuck. How am I supposed to let you go?”
“I don’t know.” Wes bit at his thumb. “Maybe we don’t have to decide right this minute? It’s not like anyone else knows. We just keep being careful with our messages...”
“Careful isn’t going to be an excuse if we’re caught.” Dustin’s eyes were dark. “But you’re right—we’re not going to settle anything tonight. And I don’t want you driving mad.”
“Not mad,” Wes said softly before he claimed his mouth for one last kiss. This was fucked-up, no question, but when Dustin was kissing him, it was hard to remember why because everything felt so damn right. It’s you. It’s always been you. There was something in his body that recognized Dustin on a deep, cellular level, and he wasn’t ever going to get over that, no matter how wrong these feelings were. No. Not the feelings. The feelings were real, and anything this fucking potent couldn’t be wrong. Fuck the regulations.
I can’t let go. He kissed Dustin thoroughly, making new memories to chase out the dark thoughts until finally Dustin pushed at his chest. “You need to go before I drag you to my bed and forget my damn head completely.”
“I’m going.” Wes swallowed hard. One more kiss, this one hard and fast and he was slipping out into the night, wind whipping at his thin T-shirt.
He hadn’t been lying about parking discreetly, but he made the trek back to his Jeep quickly, then drove in silence back to the base, unable to even stomach the radio competing with his jumbled thoughts.
He wasn’t sneaking into the barracks, not really, but he walked fast through the halls, eager to get to his room where he could collapse and stew further. But luck was not on his side, and Curly’s door opened right as he was about to pass.
