“Then we were out on our first real mission, and they had me partnered with this grizzled older chief. I can’t tell you too many of the details, but we started taking fire. He yelled at me to shoot, and I...froze. And he took a bullet to the leg as a result. Almost died. I grew up a lot that day. And I realized that if I didn’t do my job, didn’t protect my teammates, they could die. The mission could fail. It was all up to me.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility for a...what were you? Barely twenty?”
“Yeah. But that’s what I signed up for. And after that, I put even more time in on the range. I might not like having to shoot, but I was going to be damn good at it. And I am. I take pride in being one of the best shots on the teams. I wasn’t going to let another teammate fall next to me. So now I’ve been at this a decade, and I can honestly say it’s easier now. I’ve saved enough lives to not doubt myself anymore. And if that makes me callous, so be it.”
“You’re not.” Spencer squeezed his hand. “And has it really been that much of an impact on relationships? I’d think plenty of people fall into the fascinated category—after all, cops and soldiers and marines are all pretty popular.”
Bacon snorted. “People crush on the myth. But when it comes down to it, they don’t want to ask, ‘Honey, how was your day’ and hear, ‘Great. I shot a known terrorist kingpin while he swam in his pool.’ Not that I can usually share that much even, but you get the point. I constantly feel like I need to hold back, and that takes a toll.”
“I’m sorry.” Spencer shifted closer. “You deserve a good partnership in your life, you really do. Someone who will accept all of you. And I’m sorry if I seemed judgmental. However you usually cope and make peace is fine. But if not talking, what do you usually need after a mission?”
Bacon wasn’t sure anyone had ever asked him that and it made his insides wobble.
“I tried getting shitfaced when I was younger. But partying got old fast. Honestly, I’m pretty simple. A punishing workout and long shower if we’re still deployed. I try to call my mom, tell her we’re all back safe. I don’t like being alone, so I’ll hang with the guys, listen to them jaw, know that I did all I could.” Then because that was pretty damn heavy, he changed his tone to joking. “And of course fucking my brains out if we’re Stateside.”
“Ah. Uh.” Spencer let out a shaky laugh. “No shower here. Or treadmill. And I’d offer the other, but...”
“You’ve got ethics,” Bacon finished for him. “It’s cool. You’ve made it clear you’re not interested. You’re off the hook.”
“I never said I wasn’t interested.” Spencer punctuated his words by leaning into him. “Just that timing and circumstances sucked. But if we’d met at a club or something, trust me, it would be a different story.”
Warmth bloomed in Bacon’s gut. Fuck but he wanted Spencer in the worst way. “Yeah?”
“And knowing what you do, that wouldn’t be a deal-breaker for me.” Spencer squeezed his knee. “I’ve never really gone for the military type before, but you’re right, there’s been something between us from the start. I’m not going to deny that I’m attracted to you.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t usually look military when I go out on my own to a club looking to get laid.”
“Oh? Do tell.” Spencer’s voice was lighter than it had been since this whole mess began. “Distract me. Tell me about Bacon-on-the-make? You still let your goth side out?”
Bacon shrugged. “I might still own some eyeliner and all-black clothes. Can’t dye my hair while I’m in the service, and it depends on my mood, but yeah, on rare occasions, that side wants to come out.”
“I find that image strangely appealing.” Spencer’s laugh was a warm rumble that Bacon felt down to his chilled toes. “So it wasn’t just Jamie who liked the androgynous look? You experimented some with that too?”
“I’m not gender queer or nonbinary like Jamie, but I’ve always found androgyny hella hot. Both on others and for myself, not that I get much chance to experiment anymore. Curly might be my best friend, but I’m not showing up at one of his parties with the eyeliner and in black lace or something.”
Spencer let out a pained groan. “I’d say you could wear black lace around me any time, but I don’t want to sound like a dirty old perv. I’m trying to be good here.”
“Maybe I want you to be bad.” Bacon had to admit that bantering like this was a good outlet for his adrenaline and worries. They would get picked up, but how many hours it would take was unknown, and he hated not knowing. And besides, flirting with Spencer was far better than talking about taking down those three tangos.