“House Amber is fine.”
“I’ll be back with those and to get y’all’s food orders.” She walked away, a sway to her hips that Dustin most certainly followed. Wes had been honest earlier that Dustin’s bisexuality didn’t bother him, so this jealousy churning in his gut was a bit of a surprise, one he wasn’t sure how to handle.
He nudged Dustin’s foot as soon as she was out of earshot. “See something you liked?”
“What?” Dustin looked genuinely baffled, but then his eyes widened. “Sorry. I’m an equally opportunity appreciator of cuteness, but I’ve got two decades of trying not to be obvious around guys and no idea how dudes flirt. With girls it just...comes out, but with guys, I’ve got no clue. I mean, I see my brother and my friends do it, but I open my mouth and... Fuck. I’m rambling.”
“It’s okay.” Wes actually found the rambling rather endearing. As much as he wanted to be the one putting Dustin at ease, he was happy to try to help the other man work through his nerves. “But you would flirt with a guy, if you could? Like who in here’s your type?”
“You.” Dustin coughed and looked away. “Fuck. That sounded flip and I didn’t mean—”
“I’m flattered.” Some of Wes’s jealousy over the waitress subsided. Maybe he could settle Dustin’s nerves and help him out for the future too. “Now, who else? I’m here to offer advice.”
“Okay...” Dustin’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the room. “Not too young. No one who reminds me of my brother. Not too short—no offense, but I’m a big guy. I like tall women too. Don’t like bending down too far to kiss. And I dig...you know...confidence.”
Wes did know exactly what Dustin meant, because he knew what turned Dustin on, rather intimately, and that knowledge made him need to shift about on the slick wood chair. “So a not-short, not-young, not-brotherly, toppy guy who isn’t too intimidating?”
Dustin nodded slowly, and Wes had to keep himself from grinning because he fit that bill perfectly.
“Okay. How about him?” Wes flicked his eyes in the direction of a guy to their left. A bit older than Wes, the guy had deep brown eyes and curly hair and an authoritative stare.
“Maybe.” Dustin shrugged. “But I don’t want you playing wingman for me. And it’s not like I’m going out back in S—home.”
Wes didn’t ask where he’d been about to say—there was a wire fence around the details that neither of them was about to share. And besides, he didn’t need to know exactly which marine installation Dustin was stationed at out west—there were a bunch of them out there. He only knew Dustin was Marines versus some other branch of service because of his Godzilla avatar, which had the giant lizard saying “Ooh-Rah.” So instead, he went for direct. “So what do you want?”
Of course, right then the waitress returned with their drinks and to take their burger orders. Dustin clearly had spent significant time with the West Coast foodies—getting his all fancy with avocado and bacon while Wes went classic like always.
“So?” Wes prompted after she’d left again. “You don’t want me to hook you up with someone, even hypothetically, but what would you like tonight? Burger and watch the game? Or...”
“Or?” Dustin sounded more curious than off-put, which was good.
“Or...and I’m just throwing this out there... I’ve got a hotel room close to here. We could go hang there after we eat. Just talk. And stuff.”
“Define stuff.” Dustin fiddled with his paper napkin, but he hadn’t said no. And he was cautious, which was a good thing, smart. Another trait all the marines Wes knew had—they were wary, always ready for the next threat.
“Talk. Like how we usually do on Saturday nights.” Wes raised his eyebrows and nodded, telegraphing that he knew perfectly well how those nights usually ended, both of them drenched in sweat and spunk, yawning goodnight into the phone.
Dustin hissed in a breath. “And you’d be good with that? Just our usual?”
“Oh trust me—” taking a risk, Wes leaned across the table, putting his lips against Dustin’s ear “—there’s nothing usual about what I want to do to you. And absolutely nothing boring about a live-action version of our regular game.”
He sat back down in time to watch Dustin’s eyes light up at the mention of game. Yeah, Wes knew how to get him going. And the equal measure of trepidation and anticipation in his eyes made Wes’s pulse speed up. He wanted this, far more than he was willing to let on.
“I...” Dustin glanced around again. “I’m not...”
“Shh. You don’t have to give me an answer yet. We can enjoy our food. And the game. Hopefully UVA loses spectacularly so I can gloat about that when I call home tomorrow, and my dad will be in a better mood.”