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SLEEPER AND ZEUS
Sleeper was nervous. He didn't like it when he didn't know what was next. Assmunch had gone off with his family and his boyfriend. Kevin was nothing like what he imagined he would be. Sleeper felt a little bad that he thought Kevin would be more... well... gay. Instead, the dude was impressive. Not just the way he looked at you with those startling grey eyes, which felt like he pulled you apart like a weapons disassembly, but also his weighty silence felt a lot like Zeus. Leave it to Assmunch to pick someone dangerous and smart. Sleeper didn't feel exactly threatened, but Kevin had measured him with those eyes and Sleeper felt challenged. That was the truth of it: Kevin challenged him, with just a stare, no words, like Sleeper better live up to Assmunch's expectations. Protective? Jealous? Asshole? Competition? Sleeper couldn't choose the sense he received, and that was probably more unsettling than knowing. Kevin felt solid and immovable. Just the sort he'd choose for his best friend if a dude was where he wanted to plant his dick. Sleeper couldn't picture Kevin getting fucked, the guy seemed wound pretty tight. Assmunch had told him Kevin had fucked him, but Sleeper wondered if it ever went the other way. It had to, right? It wasn't like Assmunch was going to lay down for just anyone.
Sleeper hadn't been paying attention when Assmunch left, so he had no idea where he was staying. More than half the guys were going to get hotel rooms in town and relax for the next four days. A few were talking about some State Park and a lake. Sleeper thought it might be good to join them, but he didn't know what to do with Zeus. Gabriel had made it clear there wouldn't be any more sex because it was against the regs. Sleeper couldn't bring himself to be angry with Zeus, he wasn't exactly wrong and besides it was impossible to get angry at a God you loved. Plus, part of Sleeper realized he was risking getting booted and that worried him more than anything else because his four year enlistment contract was the only thing keeping him from having to return to his mother and father. So whatever Zeus said, whatever he wanted, Sleeper would deal with. But none of that kept Sleeper from wanting it. He growled with frustration. He'd finally reached the point where he understood the whispered ghosts of Gabriel's subtle emotionless moods, felt like he had unlocked a deeper connection with Gabriel and that they knew each other in a way that didn't require talking about it. Now Zeus was back to being a blank wall while they didn't get a moment away from the Bravos or the Army.
"What should we do, Addison?" The source of his frustration asked from beside him.
"Don't know, Gabriel. But we don't have anywhere to stay here on Benning."
Gabriel shrugged. "Where's Andrew?"
Okay, he could work with that. Zeus preferred to stick by Assmunch. Or maybe the huge man thought Assmunch would tell them what to do. "He's already gone with his family and boy--his friend Kevin." Fuck, he almost slipped up. Zeus knew, that wasn't the problem. It was that you didn't say anything like that out loud, not on post. Of course it would probably be taken as a joke anyway, someone was always referring to someone else as a `boyfriend' when taking a dig at one of the brothers. "Bootlicker, take your boyfriend out for some fun." Talking about Wanker. "Troll, control your boyfriend." Talking about Demon. But that was between the Bravos. Sleeper didn't need some random overhearing him describe Kevin, a civilian, as Assmunch's boyfriend.
Sleeper watched the drills of the next Airborne Class from his seat on the grass next to Zeus, his back leaning against his duffel, his legs on top of his MOLLE, enjoying the chilly, crisp remainder of the morning just before noon. It felt clean, and Sleeper loved the feeling of achievement and completion you got at the end of training. An expectant potential existed right at this moment between an awarded accomplishment and unknown assignment that would follow. Down the street another group of students were being double timed, probably going to the gravel pits for more PLF drills, something about them looked green. Cadre were shouting out instructions, students calling out replies. Benning during daylight was a bustle of activity, a well choreographed dance of moving AIT trainees just out of Basic (quartered and instructed in another area of Benning), Airborne students, Command duty functions, and day to day operations, maintenance and duty of both Airborne Regiments and Ranger Regiments. All the civilians from the graduation were probably cleared off post already. A Staff Sergeant was directing some Corporals and Privates while they loaded the tents from their graduation onto trucks. Probably Airborne, but who knows, he couldn't see their patches from here. It was shit duty, so they could also be fuck ups going through AIT or some dumb fuck from training command. If it was punishment, the SSgt would have them run behind the trucks breathing diesel exhaust while he rode on the back screaming at them to keep up. That brought a smile to his face. Nothing was better than seeing someone get smoked.
Getting smoked was a term that described any exercise punishment suck, not really breathing exhaust. Run a mile, pushups, sit-ups, mountain climbers, dig a hole and fill it in, move rocks (think 40 pound rocks), crawl... limited only by the imagination of the Sergeant but usually geared toward completely exhausting you. It happened ALL THE FUCKING TIME in Basic, and it was how you got to know your Drills were fucking assholes. If your Drill saw a cloud in the sky... you get smoked and do fifty. If he didn't like how you said `Good morning Drill Sergeant' you get smoked and run three miles. Your left eyeball didn't match your right eyeball right on the very thin edge of the brim of his cap? Crawl on your elbows and knees for fifty yards then do fifty burpees. Didn't have your manual memorized for that week's instruction? Can't name parts of your weapon; your Drill's middle name (hint: they NEVER told you their middle name), you didn't eat fast enough, your shoulder didn't line up with the man next to you, you get the picture. Fifty was a common number, probably because it didn't eat up too much time, but still got you worn out because doing them slowly wasn't an option with a screaming Drill kicking dirt at you and spitting on you when he screamed.
In AIT you didn't get smoked as often unless you or your Platoon fucked up. Sometimes it was Company wide, but Company wide meant you pissed off your First Sergeant somehow, probably by failing to meet some target in either operations or training. Still, there was always the chance of a random smoking just because. After AIT, it hardly happened at all in the regular ranks but in Infantry you dealt with it until you ranked up enough that someone else was the target. One stripers got smoked just for fun in Infantry until you learned to just stop bitching about it. It fell off in direct proportion to your attitude.
Sleeper sighed. He could do this for the rest of his life and be happy. He loved that his future was completely in his own hands. No family obligations. No expectations of fictitious ancestral honor to adhere to even in private moments. He could say `fuck' all he wanted. He didn't have to pretend to be someone else. He could eat what he fucking wanted, well, most of the time. His words and actions were all his own, and they affected only himself. He let out a small laugh of happiness, which caused Gabriel to glance over. He just winked back. Eventually he might tell Assmunch and Gabriel about his upbringing, his family, their connections and money, but for now he loved the freedom he felt. He loved how no one knew who he was or where he came from and just expected him to be a regular guy, just a grunt. Freedom was always relative. For him, the rigid and regulated U.S. Army was far more free than he'd ever been in his entire life and his future felt wide open, exciting, and unpredictable. He loved that he could play the average but competent regular guy and no one expected greatness from him. Being normal was a relief. He could finally relax. Just some dumb Private in a green sea of other dumb Privates. Anonymous and completely unremarkable. Every rank he achieved was due to his own efforts and his own desires. Awards. Recognition. Not a single person gave a fuck that he was Addison Cristobal Augurius Emigdio Montelongo Garrido on his Certificado de Nacimiento for Spain, and Addison Christopher Garrido-Montelongo for his American Birth Certificate. He almost hated that name. Almost.
"I heard a few of the guys saying they were going to camp in Standing Boy State Park. You wanna go?" He asked Gabriel.
Gabriel smiled, mostly with his eyes, but his lips lifted just slightly too. "Yes." He said. Wow. A whole yes' instead of the usual noncommittal okay'. Hmmm. Gabriel must be in an exceptionally good mood. Sleeper felt his own spirits lift even higher with the realization.
"Cool. Let's do it." He replied to Gabriel, and the sudden urge to kiss him popped into his head. He immediately squashed it. Nope. Just bros. `Keep it together, Addison. Don't scare the Giant God'. He thought.
They already had everything they needed on their backs, even food if they were willing to eat the MRE's in their packs. Which Sleeper wasn't. Besides, he might have maybe five, it's not like they carried a whole pantry of supplies with them. They usually got issued MRE's during field training or patrols, and they could buy them on Post if they wanted, but the good ones were usually picked clean by the time you got there. Ratfucking the MRE's was commonplace. He chuckled. `The good ones.' Yeah, well he'd pick eating an MRE sitting in the dirt with the Bravos over the silent, joyless, scrutinized mealtime with his parents, holding his fork just right, not drinking a sip until the end of each meal course, always sitting upright, and a hundred other rules and manners of Class society. He told Gabriel they needed to go shopping at the Commissary first.
By 1600 they were setting up camp in Standing Boy. He let Zeus scout a good site with running water of a decent creek nearby, after a two hour hike into the woods. It wasn't a dry year so the Park Ranger at the entrance said campfires were okay, but they had to be extinguished if they left camp for any period of time. That wasn't a problem. "But I know I don't have to worry about you Ft. Benning boys." The Ranger said, which said more about his recourse of reporting them to the base than any real confidence in them as individuals. Starting a fire from scratch took little effort anymore, and partially burned wood meant getting the next fire going even easier, so putting it out was no trouble at all.
"You want a tent?" He asked Gabriel when he brought another armload of deadwood from the woods.
Gabriel shrugged.
"Yeah, weather's nice. You're right, no tent." He said, dumping the wood by the fire pit Gabriel had dug out and encircled with rocks. Besides, if the temperature was cold, you got condensation on the inside walls of the tent fabric from breathing and body heat, which invariably ended up dripping on you, or raining down on you if the wind shook the tent or you rolled over and shook the tent yourself. Tents were great for the rain, but just too many problems if it wasn't. And tents were even worse than sleeping bags for concentrating the smell of two grown men. If you had to exit the tent for any reason, then went back in after being in the fresh air, the smell just about made you pass out. Added to those basic practical reasons, it was already ingrained in both of them that hiding yourself away inside a tent meant you had no sight on your perimeter and sound was blocked, so you could easily be caught unaware. Sleeper didn't expect to have anything to worry about, but being lax about their environment went against all their training. Funny how that worked - how the Army slowly erased any civilian comfort from your blood in that constant glacial grind until you couldn't bring yourself to ignore how the Army wanted you to do something as unremarkable as camping out.
"You hungry? I'm hungry. You feel like chicken, or steak?" Sleeper asked. They had splurged at the Commissary, knowing the temperatures for the next few days wouldn't rise above 40 degrees so meat would keep just fine for three days until they cooked it, or already cooked meat would keep too. They'd bought about fifty pounds of food and Sleeper was going to eat everything he wanted, whenever he wanted for the next three days. He silently sent his hope that Gabriel would choose steak, really willing it to happen. Steak. Steak. Steak. Ever since he saw the inch thick ribeyes his mouth was watering with the taste of wood fired beef. It was a chant in his head. Steak. Steak! Steak!
"Can we have steak?" Gabriel said like a kid at Christmas.
Sleeper threw his head back and let out a long, loud wolf howl, scaring something in the woods not too far away. When his breath ran out, he laughed. "FUCK YEAH WE'RE GONNA HAVE FUCKIN STEAK!!!"
Gabriel was smiling like a fool.
"Give a howl Gabriel! We're MEN and we're eating MEAT TONIGHT!!!" And he threw his head back again and roared. Gabriel followed with a resounding howl that sent shivers down Sleeper's spine. Fuck, the Ranger at the entrance probably heard that.
He found himself grinning at Gabriel with pride and amazement. "Get a fire going, I'll get the stuff out and hang the rest."
While the wood burned down to a manageable and consistent level, they arranged the rest of the camp. A latrine dug ten feet from the fire, a paracord over a branch 16 feet up to hang the pack holding the food, tied to another branch 6 feet up, dead sticks and brush scattered in a ring around the camp to provide advance warning of anything larger than a house cat intruding, pine straw bedding under the sleeping bags. He managed to convince Gabriel that zipping their bags together was best and he promised he wouldn't try anything.
"Okay Addision." Gabriel had finally agreed.
"We can still snuggle though, won't hurt to keep warm. And it's not against regs, right?" He said. Besides, even a doubled sack was going to be filled to capacity with him and Gabriel, so they were going to be on top of each other regardless.
"No, it's not wrong. Okay." Gabriel smiled.
Sleeper's heart soared. Who cared about sex? They could just cuddle up, maybe talk about stuff, tell jokes, fall asleep. It even felt like that was better, keeping their honor intact.
"Hey, why'd you build a rock table in the fire?" Addison asked. Gabriel had found two eight inch tall stones that he put on either side of the fire, and had placed a relatively flat rock that spanned across and balanced expertly on top.
Gabriel cocked his head. "For cooking, Addison."
"What? How?" Addison really didn't know much about cooking. He could use a sterno to heat up an MRE, probably cook an egg, but that was it.
"The fire heats the rock, gets it real hot. You have to pick the right rock though, the wrong ones explode. A flat, thin piece of slate is good, if it's dry." Gabriel explained.
"No shit?"
"How were you going to cook the food, Addison?" Gabriel asked.
Addison felt embarrassed. "I hadn't thought about it, I figured we'd just stick stuff over the fire, on a branch or something."
Gabriel grinned and shook his head. "The rocks help at night too, when it's cold."
Sleeper gave him a dry look. "Yeah, I learned that too in Survival. But they didn't cover gourmet camping, bro."
His giant friend looked at him with a sweet, innocent look. "It's okay Sleeper, I'll make sure you don't starve and die."
Sleeper froze in shock. "Fuck me...did you just make a joke, Gabriel?"
The smile he got from his big blonde friend blazed like the sun, his hazel eyes playful, and Addison's heart swelled just that much more.
"Fuckin proud of yourself, are you?" Sleeper laughed. "That was really good! Alright, one for Gabriel. I'll get you back."
Gabriel turned out to be an excellent cook, or maybe Sleeper was just hungry enough to eat his own leg, but regardless the steak and vegetables were incredible. He knew it had something to do with being there alone with Gabriel, out in the wild, with not a single worry or care. They ate side by side, and every so often he'd lean up against Gabriel's shoulder and give him a grin as he chewed. He loved how sitting next to each other his head came just over Gabriel's shoulder and he was the small one. They didn't speak, just enjoyed the moment and the peace of the woods. Yeah, this was just perfect. They took their time, both of them choosing to eat with their hands and share the warmth of the fire. They didn't have a house around them, but a domestic comforting peace settled inside him and he realized he would take eating a simple meal in front of a fire with this man over anything else in the world, for the rest of his life. There was something about Gabriel that held no motives, no worries, no fears, as if life for him was an entirely clean slate and life was ever forward and never looking back. Addison's heart had dreamed of exactly that since he was old enough to realize the prison of his name and the shackles of his family. He'd never been deeply religious, in spite of his family's strict Catholicism, but he felt compelled to say a silent word of thanks to God for this time in his life, for the beauty around him, and the beauty of the man beside him.
"Hold on, you have something on your face." He said.
"What? Where?" Gabriel asked and started to raise his hand to wipe.
"No, I'll get it." Addison replied, figuring his hand was just greasy enough from holding the now non-existent steak. He reached out gently at first, then wiped his hand solidly across Gabriel's cheek and onto his forehead.
"There. It's gone now." He grinned.
"You just..." Gabriel started, his mouth hanging open.
Addison was up and running just as Gabriel reached out. "Too late, bro! Got you back! We're even!" Laughing as he ran toward the creek nearby.
"I'm going to catch you!" He heard Gabriel shout, which only made him laugh harder.
He kicked off his boots, and stripped off his blouse and undershirt as he ran, then unbuckled his belt and pants. He bunny hopped to get out of them. Gabriel was really close, so he had to hurry. Just before Gabriel got to him, he jumped naked into the creek.
"Fuck it's cold!!!" He shouted.
"Don't make me come in there, Addison." Gabriel said from the bank, hands on hips, a stern look on his face and a smear of black char and grease from his cheek across his eye to his forehead, making him look like an angry tribesman. He actually looked kinda hot, like Arnold Schwarzenegger in the first Predator movie. Predator 2 was okay, but not as good as the first one. Sleeper hadn't even seen the first one until after he was out of Basic. After a group at AIT had gone to see Predator 2 at the base theater in 1990 they were floored with disbelief when they found out Sleeper hadn't seen the first one, so one of his AIT buddies rented the VHS and they watched it in the day room that night. His parents didn't feel movies in general were a good use of time, so he'd rarely seen one at a theater, and they certainly didn't have a VHS machine at home. You'd need a TV to hook one up anyway.
"Hey bro, you got something on your face." Addison replied, laughing from his position in the middle of the creek. He sank down to his shoulders and ducked his head in the freezing water, washing his hands. It really didn't feel too bad once you were in, but he knew he couldn't stay for long. "Come on, you need to wash too. Don't be a baby."
Gabriel crossed his arms and scowled, then threw them up in the air and started stripping.
Addison let out another wolf howl as he watched his beautiful naked man try to navigate the creek bank carefully, eliciting a grin from Gabriel.
They each grabbed a handful of dormant grass from the bank and scrubbed themselves quickly so they could get out of the freezing water. Gabriel shot him a frown as he rubbed the grass across his face to get rid of the stubborn grease Sleeper had smeared there. The blonde giant dipped down under the surface to rinse.
He came back up slow, stopping when the water was just below his eyes. The look he gave Addison promised retribution.
"No! Gabriel, we're even! Don't even think about it. Don't. Don't." Addison said seriously, moving backwards toward the bank while he pointed at his friend with one finger in warning. "Don't."
The giant exposed the rest of his face. The worst part was that he didn't say a word while he tracked Addison with his own movements, his hazel eyes half closed.
"You better not!" Addison continued, hoping to buy time to get away. He was being hunted. He had no idea what Gabriel had in mind but he wasn't going to wait around to find out. He took a quick look over his shoulder to determine how far away the bank was. He broke the rule about taking your eyes off your opponent. When he jerked his head back around Gabriel had a handful of creek mud that hit him square in the face, and the battle was on.
Addison reflexively batted the hand away but the mud accomplished the goal of blinding and distracting him for a critical moment, enough for Gabriel to capture him in a grapple that lifted him off his feet, their naked bodies coming together and Addison felt momentarily weakened by the seductive heat of Gabriel's skin in the freezing water. Fuck, the heat of that huge body felt good. Still, he fought, squirming in Gabriel's embrace while blind, he didn't want the runny mud to get in his eyes.
The water helped him get his arms up between Gabriel's muscular elbows and he flexed outward trying to break the massive man's hold. He arched backwards with a grunt and Gabriel's arms released, and Addison flopped backwards in the water. He quickly wiped his face and stood up.
On dry ground, Addison could put up a good fight with Gabriel in normal circumstances even though he always lost to the height, weight and skill advantage Gabriel had over him eventually. However, in the waist deep creek with a soft muddy bottom Addison had little hope. But fuck if he was just going to give up that easily.
He decided his only chance was to go on the attack, throw Gabriel off balance and buy himself enough time to get out of the creek and run. The challenge was how? The creek was waist deep for him, but only thigh deep for Gabriel. Still, the bottom wasn't level or solid enough to provide stable footing so if he could knock the giant off his feet he might create an opening to give himself the lead he needed. He couldn't delay too long, the cold water and air were leeching the strength from him already. He dove under and grabbed onto Gabriel's ankle, planted his feet and yanked it up, maneuvering it onto his shoulder then pushed up off the creek bottom. Standing up with a jaw clenching smile he saw a determined scowl on his friend's face. The huge man was precariously balanced on one foot, reaching out to Addison with both hands that didn't quite reach him. Addison gave him a taunting grin then pushed his leg up off his shoulder, toppling the giant backwards into the water. Addison didn't wait to gloat, he dove away and scrambled towards the creek bank. He could make it.
He didn't make it. He was out of the water, but the creek bank rose three feet or so forcing him to climb. He felt his right ankle get locked in an unbreakable grip and a sharp yank dropped him to his chest and stomach, knocking the air out of him with an audible `OOOF'. Then, embarrassingly, Gabriel slowly dragged him across the dirt and grass like a dead carcass back into the water where he leapt on top of him from behind.
"Pesky little rabbit." Gabriel grunted into his ear. Something about the way he said it so rough and chastising only completed his possession and Addison found himself going limp as Gabriel stood up. The heat of that amazing body pressed against him from his shoulders down his back to his knees, Gabriel's strong arms wrapped tightly around his chest, one leg pinning Addison's shins...Addison felt all fight and desire to escape leave him. The ease with which this God held him, firm but not crushing, it was solid, secure, safe. Addison breathed out as he felt an overwhelming trust warm him. "Good rabbit." Gabriel breathed, climbing out of the water still holding him in that incredible embrace, not even struggling for balance as he strode with casual steps of confident strength up the embankment.
Once on dry ground, Gabriel flipped him around without effort and settled him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "Stay, rabbit." Gabriel's deep voice mumbled, one arm securing Addison around his thighs. Addison let his cheek settle against the warm, muscle bound back. He should be cold, but he wasn't.
As Gabriel carried him back to the camp, Addison felt the large hands roaming up and down his legs and over his ass and it was so soothing, he was so relaxed, he let himself drift off. The early morning wake up, the jump, the graduation, clearing out the barracks, and the hike to the campsite loaded down with all their packs and gear then the battle in the creek finally hit him, and settling into Gabriel's beautiful massive warm body did the rest.
He woke up snuggled warmly inside the sleeping bag with Gabriel wrapped around him, a soft snore coming from the giant's mouth pressed up against his neck. He had to take a piss, but Gabriel's left arm and leg were on top of him, his right under Addison's head wrapping around his neck and his huge hand resting on Addison's chest. He gently moved Gabriel's arms, trying not to wake him.
"Settle, Rabbit." Gabriel murmured, returning his arms to surround Addison.
"Sorry, beautiful. I have to pee."
"Mmmm, I like when you call me beautiful, Rabbit." The giant replied sleepily, smiling into Addison's neck.
Addison felt a flush of warmth go through him as the deep tones of Gabriel's voice washed over him. He twisted around to turn on his side facing his beautiful man. Here, now, Addison thought of nothing except the magic of this moment. Gabriel pulled him closer, swallowing him with his big body.
"I love you, Addison." Gabriel's eyes were half open, gazing with dreamy relaxation. His hand had moved to rest on Addison's ass and it felt like that's exactly where it belonged. Gabriel's other arm pulled inwards to hug Addison closer until they were connected from head to toe. Addison let his head relax onto Gabriel's, cheek to cheek.
"I love you too, Gabriel." It surprised him how easy those words came, unforced and feeling like a foundation so deep there was nothing else more important. Had he never felt real love before, he wondered? Whatever he thought he'd felt with the two girls he'd dated secretly until his parents found out, it wasn't this. He'd never been so willing to risk everything, he didn't even care about anything except the feeling of this beautiful, good man's arms around him, listening to his voice, looking into his eyes.
Gabriel's hand came up to stroke his face, and he still marveled at how large it was, fully covering him from jaw to hair. Gabriel moved his head back to smile at him. He leaned in and kissed him. Addison was ready, pressing forward, but Gabriel pulled back after just a touch of the lips.
"Go pee, Rabbit, then come back." His voice rumbled.
"Yes, boss." Addison smiled. He extricated his naked body from Gabriel's, and the giant refused to help, remaining limp so that Addison almost wanted to just give up and stay, his aching bladder be damned. He finally climbed out and immediately missed the warmth even though it wasn't that cold outside the sleeping bag, probably just 38 degrees or so in the quiet early evening just before sundown. They must have slept for a few hours. He noticed Gabriel had cleaned up the remains of their meal and fed the fire, as well as collected their clothes from the trail to the creek. He must have been completely zonked out not to notice any of that, or Gabriel climbing into the bag with him.
Even though he had to take a mean piss he took his time sauntering over to the edge of camp, taking a quick glance back to see if Gabriel was watching him.
The big man had just the top of his head poked out of the bag, exposing only his unblinking light hazel eyes. Addison turned halfway and leaned his elbows against the tree beside him and let loose, keeping his eyes on Gabriel who was riveted to his performance. He posed himself with his weight on one leg, knowing it would flex his ass while he arched his back and leaned over to let his dick hang. Addison grinned and closed his eyes letting the relief of a good long piss relax him, knowing Gabriel was watching everything. When he was just about done he looked at Gabriel again, who had pulled his entire head out while he watched Addison's dick dribble out the last drops. Gabriel glanced back up at Addison's face, his lips slightly open, then looked back down again, so Addison took a moment to turn to face him and stretch in a big lazy yawn with his legs spread and all his muscles tight and stretched out.
"Rabbit...." Gabriel said with a growl, a warning.
Addison found himself chuckling. He didn't know or care why Gabriel had settled on calling him Rabbit, but he found he liked it. "Coming, boss." He replied with a smile. He made sure to return just like he'd gone, sauntering so that his big thighs flopped his dick and balls from left to right.
As he climbed back into the bag, Gabriel grabbed him roughly to pull him down.
"Andrew is right." Gabriel growled.
He pulled Gabriel's arm back around him and nuzzled his way back into the crook of the big man's other arm to lay his head on the comfortable bicep. "About what?"
"You're a show-off."
Addison smiled, taking the opportunity to enjoy the smell of Gabriel's skin, his armpit just a couple inches from his nose. He nuzzled in deeper as Gabriel pulled him in. "This feels so good." he gave the area where Gabriel's shoulder and pec met a soft kiss.
"Do you want to sleep some more, Rabbit?"
"Mmmmmm, not really. Let's just stay like this and talk." He answered. Gabriel's hand was rubbing up and down his back softly. He could feel the hard length of Gabriel's cock pressing into him, which made him smile even more knowing how much Gabriel liked his little show. `We'll see how long he can hold out.' Addison thought to himself, deciding he'd push Gabriel to the limit of his no sex promise. He'd keep it, because it was important to Gabriel, but there was a lot of room to play without crossing that line.
"Gabriel, if we weren't in the Army, would you be okay with us being together?" He suddenly asked, letting his buried hand stroke the big muscles of Gabriel's chest. Why had that question come out?
"Yes." The deep voice answered without a pause.
"Even letting everyone know?" He asked, uncertain of the response.
Gabriel's arms tightened around him. "I would tell everyone you were my boyfriend, Addison. I want to tell them now, but we can't."
"So we're still boyfriends?" He asked, surprised.
Gabriel sighed. "Boyfriends are in your heart, Rabbit. You're in my heart, and I'm in yours."
The way he said it cracked a dam inside him that he hadn't realized was there. The sincerity, the plain, unadorned raw honesty grabbed him inside and pulled at him until the simple words caused him hurt and joy simultaneously. It was that straightforward to Gabriel, the only requirement and it was so pure and innocent Addison repeated it softly as he breathed. "You're in my heart."
"Shhhhhh, Rabbit. It's okay. It's not sad." Gabriel murmured into his head, rubbing his back. "Don't cry, Rabbit."
Addison sniffed, and wiped his nose with his free hand. "Not really crying, buddy, just wasn't expecting that." He answered gently. "You really are beautiful, Gabriel." Addison didn't cry, hadn't shed a single tear that he could remember since he was five. His parents wouldn't have it and besides, what did he have to cry about? Cry about his soft, pampered life? His every need being met while what he actually wanted was withheld? His frustration redirected into activities and lessons and duties until he fell asleep exhausted enough to never dream? Transferred in the care of nannies, tutors and bodyguards that shuttled him from place to place who no doubt had strict instructions to keep him at arms length just like his parents did? Cry about what? Some fictional concept of freedom and individuality that always felt foreign to him until he met the Bravos? Until he met Andrew who actually bothered to ASK him what he thought, what he liked, what he wanted and wouldn't give up until he felt comfortable enough to actually vocalize the things he'd never been allowed to say. He now knew his parents had been fortunate to have such an agreeable child as him, who didn't argue or fight or throw tantrums but instead quietly accepted that they had his best interests at heart. He wasn't so sure of that when he got old enough to realize there was so much more out there in the world he'd never experienced. The stories of the Spanish explorers and conquistadors his parents insisted his tutors taught him called to him, enamored him and he fell in love with the adventure of their lives, their battles, their fierce nature and tough resilience. That was why he wanted to join the Army, why he'd filled out all the enlistment paperwork, took the ASVAB, and left his parents with no choice but to let him go. By the time they found out, there wasn't anything legal they could do to stop him. He did feel a little bad for deceiving them. They weren't bad people, and he did love them. He was mature enough to realize they were doing what they thought was best, that they were never mean or cruel, they praised him when he did well, often talked to him about how to resolve problems he was having. But they were distant and unavailable for most of his childhood, far too busy to be involved in his day to day activities. They had functions to attend, parties, meetings, businesses to run which required frequent travel. But when they were home, they did carve out a little time for their cherished only son. Addison wasn't bitter about it, his basic decent nature felt grateful for the time he actually did get to spend with them. When they were all together his parents didn't talk business or work, they talked with Addison about how things were with him. He felt a little guilty that he had only written them a few letters telling them what he was doing. He wasn't avoiding them, exactly. It was because it felt like being in the Army was for HIM, his own personal experience, the first thing in his entire life that was entirely on him, for himself, and something he wanted. He could take four years for that, his family obligations could wait that long. His parents would have to understand.
He felt a sudden unexpected panic as an uninvited thought intruded: two years left. That was all. Just two years to grab every experience he could. Two years to be someone different before returning to his boring life of every minute scheduled for him, every decision made for him, every step planned, appearances, dress, inoffensive small talk, schooling his face into the vapid, empty, neutral smile required. They chose his friends, and they would choose a selection of acceptable women that he could date, all of them beautiful no doubt, intelligent, from the best families. But first, University, probably Oxford or Cambridge, not for the education exactly, but so he could rub elbows with his peers in the nobility. His parents had high hopes. After reading extensively, Addison knew minor nobility like his family weren't truly considered peers, as a cadet branch, but his mother felt one must not fall behind if one was to be taken seriously among the peerage. Addison felt that entire view of the European nobility was outdated and archaic. Among the young whom he'd met, the overwhelming feeling was that in order to maintain their position they couldn't be seen as placing themselves above the citizens of their respective states. Image was everything. Princess Grace of Monaco, and Princess Diana of England were beloved by the people of many countries. Addison felt that there was a lesson there that his parents could learn. But even so, he wasn't stupid. His father's business connections, their financial success, depended upon being welcome in the highest circles and it was their name that ensured that more than their money and businesses. His parents had even dined in the White House with President Reagan.
The titles of nobility in Spain are a mess. At different times in history noble titles were eliminated, then reconferred, inherited titles done away with, then re-established, new categories created as honorifics without blood relation to the King or any other noble family. Over two thousand Spanish nobles. But in essence, they were a cadet branch that traced their lineage back to the Viscount Jofre of Terragona. Addison's cousin Reynaldo Maria de Patricio Ruiz Montelongo Escobar held the actual title, and he was ten years older than Addison. They'd met when Addison was 16 at a family wedding in Spain. Cousin Reynaldo wasn't a first cousin, but was a very laid back guy who didn't take himself too seriously, and actually told his parents that at family events titles and deference were absurd. "Just relax, cousins, and enjoy yourselves. We have to deal with that garbage too much in the world out there, we can relax here in private." Addison was trained too well to show his shock, but Cousin Reynaldo was younger than his parents by 15 years, yet he spoke to them as if they were contemporaries, and dismissed any importance of their status with just a few kind words. That was the moment when he understood his parents took themselves far too seriously and the rigid nature of his upbringing was completely unnecessary. Cousin Reynaldo was refined and well mannered, yet he came across as a normal person. Not long after their return to the States he joined the wrestling team at his private school, much to his parents' confusion. Of course they objected. "It's coarse and beneath you, Addison. All that rolling around with sweaty men, like animals. You could get injured." His mother explained. "What's the point, Addison?" His father asked. "If you want to learn how to fight, we'll get you a tutor, or you could train with Marco." Indicating Addison's bodyguard. Little did his father know he'd already been having Marco show him how to take care of himself. It said a lot for Marco's dedication and loyalty that he hadn't told Addison's father about it. But of course, why would he? It wasn't forbidden. Addison suspected Marco did not approve of how his parents raised Addison and so he sought to teach him as much about real world things to which his parents would never allow him to be exposed. Marco had been with them since Addison was 5, having been just 21 when he was first hired, Addison's parents seeing the necessity of growing a bond between them. Now he'd be 36, and Addison knew he was helping his parents in other capacities. He suspected his parents were keeping Marco around for when Addison returned, even though he hadn't said he'd return. He wrote Marco far more letters than he'd written his parents, writing him every week. Addison idolized the man, a larger than life figure who was both serious and humorous. Marco took his duties to heart, and recognized Addison needed a male figure he could be relaxed with, so in the unscheduled moments of his life Marco would invent games for them to play, quiz him on things he'd taught him, and let Addison be silly. He also knew Marco might also show the letters to his parents, but that was okay. He just wrote about what he was learning, doing, his achievements, the friends he'd met, and generally about the Army experience. As he'd been taught, his letters contained nothing intimate even if what he wrote was personal. He sighed. Only people of a higher class saw the distinction between intimate and personal revelations. Addison hated that. It was one of the reasons he loved the Bravos so much. They were so free with their intimate feelings as if there was no harm in exposing yourself to people you trusted. It was his last remaining wall within himself, and he felt guilty that he hadn't told his brothers who he was. He just couldn't take the chance that they'd change, that they'd see and treat him differently. He loved being considered just another soldier who they could insult, yell at, joke around with. He felt like he belonged when they did that. And most of all, he felt guilty about Gabriel. He had never intended for things to go this far. How would Gabriel take the news that he couldn't find a way out, his family would never allow him to escape and that he couldn't bring himself to leave them behind. He was wracking his brain to find a way for he and Gabriel to stay together, as impossible as he knew it was. But even if they both left the Army, he knew Gabriel would have a problem with his eventual marriage. He could easily hire Gabriel as a body guard, have Marco teach him how it was done in Society. Andrew would understand the difficult position Addison was in, but Gabriel wouldn't. Even Addison's parents might reluctantly accept a relationship between he and Gabriel, enduring the necessity of keeping Addison happy so that he could marry and have kids and be the dutiful son to all outward appearances. And that was the true issue - maintaining appearances. As long as that was accomplished, just about anything could be tolerated. But Gabriel would never allow himself to have a relationship with a married man. The very idea had WRONG written all over it. Gabriel was very clear about how he felt about wrong.
A low purr rumbled through Gabriel's chest, pulling him back to the present. He snuggled in deeper choosing to focus on the comforting feel of Gabriel's huge body rather than depressing thoughts of his trapped existence.
"Sir." Major Collins answered the phone.
"Mark, why do I have a Mr. and Mrs. Montelongo tormenting my staff?" The General's voice didn't sound angry, and actually sounded amused.
"I have no idea, George." Collins sighed. "Maybe asking for special treatment for their son?"
"I've put them off, but that fuse is almost burnt. Is he one of the kids in your test program?"
"Yes, Sir. Private Addison Montelongo in one of the Platoons we have scheduled for RIP in a couple weeks.
"I'm actually impressed. How they figured out which command their son was under is beyond me, no one is supposed to know the participants. You think the kid told his parents?" General Middleton asked.
"Not possible, the soldiers don't know anything about why they're in the program. That would defeat the purpose of the study. I suspect the parents have other resources." He answered.
"Mmmmmm". The General mused. "I'll figure it out, but something tells me I won't have to. They are persistent, and if I know their type they will be frustrated enough soon to overplay their hand. Do you have the file on Montelongo?"
"In my office. Major Baker knows where the participants' files are. I'll call her when I get off the phone with you and tell her to bring it over. You want anyone else's or just Montelongo's?"
"Send over Harris' file too, he made some sort of impression on the team in Germany. What's your opinion?"
Collins knew George was asking for the unofficial information he'd never put on actual paper, things outside the weekly report he gave the General personally. "Solid soldier, keeps it professional, shows unusual concern for his men which might be a problem in combat. In some sort of relationship with an MIT engineering student, which is unclear. Kevin Copeland. There was some kind of love triangle between the two and a girl in high school, again unclear but almost certainly sexual. Both Kevin and Carol attended the funeral of Private Harris' father a few weeks ago, so the relationship may be ongoing. The Copeland boy keeps to himself at MIT, no social life to speak of, but the girl has been quite active socially and sexually at USC."
"Security risks?"
"I'm confident there's no security risk. Harris knows how to stay in his lane. And we're listening when possible. Copeland and the girl aren't idiots either. There's signs that Harris' mother and brother know about the relationship with Copeland and the girl, so any kind of blackmail scenario seems unlikely. And once Harris knows that WE know all about him, he can't be compromised in that way either. Except for suspected homosexuality, he's squeaky clean, and eats, breathes, and sleeps Army."
"Hmmmmm. After I look at his file, I might want to talk more about Harris. From what the team in Germany reported, we don't see a soldier like this too often."
Collins grinned. "I'd have to agree. If you met him in person, you'd see it. There's definitely something there. I hope you'd let him have his time in Regiment if he gets through the Ranger course, so he could establish his unofficial credentials with the Rangers before moving him anywhere else. You know how it is with that sort. Interestingly, he, Montelongo and Gunnerson put in for a Ranger re-class just before we sent them to Airborne."
"I remember, Mark. Rangers hold themselves to a higher standard." The General laughed. "Almost as bad as getting jumped in with a street gang. Of course, that was back in my day. Never been so glad to get my ass kicked. But today's Ranger no doubt has other hazing to endure to be accepted. Anyone else you think merits special notice? If this program succeeds, we'll need people out front. Best to recognize potentials now."
Collins did have a few standouts in mind. "I'll put together an overview by tomorrow and have Baker get the files to you with the others. I do have to say, George, that this group is pretty fascinating. It's beyond the scope of this program, but we might want to look into selective unit composition. We chose each of these groups from soldiers their previous units considered as outliers, those who didn't exactly blend for some reason, homosexuality wasn't the only selection criteria. But put a group of them together and they seem to understand each other in a way that doesn't happen in regular units. It might be worth examining the dynamic as a separate program after we get done with this one. Some of it is leadership, their platoons trust Brickmann and Lamont."
General Middleton chuckled again. "We'll see. The pile of your suggested programs and studies keeps growing. I'm actually glad to see you get a little hands on in the field on this one."
"Well thanks for approving it, George. After the report for the Armed Services Committee on Iraq, doing something that might promote some good in the Armed Forces is a pleasure. That was nasty business."
"But necessary. War always opens the door for soldiers to get creative on earning extra income. It happens every time, but we can't be lax about it or ignore it, especially the big stuff like armament and military equipment. Just be glad that was your task instead of what Major Baker had to do with the looters. That involved breaking down American doors on American soil on top of prosecuting service men and women, some with rank. I did not enjoy that. Are you planning on staying through the Ranger phase?"
Collins had given it quite a bit of thought and really couldn't come up with a reason for his presence. The Ranger course was its own little world and the RI's knew what they were doing, and there could be no distractions or interference if their evaluations were to be accurate. He'd be a distraction. "No. I've got work to do back in Washington. I'm here until they are turned over to RIP, then we've got their Sergeants Walters and Horvath on standby for them during the course. They were read in after their phase was complete so we could use them for this phase. If Horvath and Walters did their job well enough in Germany, RIP shouldn't be impossible for them, but the RI's are going to be a bit angry that their normal 14% pass rate won't be accurate for this class. Plus, I've got something special in store for them between now and RIP, so I'll be out of contact for a couple weeks."
"You're going to cheat, aren't you?" The General said.
"Aw, George, you wound me. It's not cheating. They will qualify, and succeed on their own abilities. But the point is to have them in Regiment. It wouldn't be a very good study program if all our participants failed out, would it? I'm just making sure they have the knowledge and skills not to fail."
"Yep, cheating."
"Besides, this gives me a chance to have them evaluated outside of the military structure and command. These guys are very close knit. I want to see what they do without rules. I might have a few more files for your special attention at the end of it. Depends on their performance." he explained to his friend. General George Middleton had become a friend more than a superior long ago.
"Well, just put it in the report, and I'll see you in two weeks, Mark."
"Yes, Sir."
He heard the General chuckle just before he hung up. `Sir'.
His prediction came true the very next day.
"I've told them you are unavailable without an appointment, sir."
He carefully stacked the files in full view, making sure that Private Montelongo's file was on top.
"No, Lieutenant, they've succeeded in getting my attention. Anyone who can get as far as my outside door isn't your ordinary visitor. May as well show them in. Oh, and find some Black Tea and brew a pot. Ask Candler, he's a tea nut, he'll have some. In 15 minutes bring it in. A tray would be nice, Mrs. Montelongo would like that touch. Any chance you have any service experience?"
The Lieutenant shook his head. "Hmmmm, just ask Candler, he's probably got all the materials, and might even like putting on a show."
"Yes, Sir."
Ten minutes later, Mr. and Mrs. Montelongo were shown through his door. He stood to greet them. He wasn't exactly sure who their sponsor was, but he did know you didn't walk the halls of the Pentagon without some very high placed friends. He felt standing in respect would start whatever this meeting was on the right note.
"Mr. Montelongo, Mrs. Montelongo, it's a pleasure. I hope I've pronounced it correctly." He said with a smile. He had to admit, this was a nice diversion from the usual phone calls with staff, the joint chiefs, Senators or senior Pentagon officials. And he did find their determination amusing, so he was in a very gracious, pleasant mood.
Upon first impression, Mrs. Montelongo was stunning, a real beauty with night black hair, exceptionally pale skin, and brown eyes so light they almost appeared golden. Her prominent and defined cheekbones accentuated delicate skin, full red lips he was sure didn't have lipstick present, and a remarkably straight nose. He knew from his research she was 45 years old, yet she could easily pass for her mid 20's, if it wasn't for the fierce steel in her gaze. She wore a tight fitted black dress that hugged her athletic and slightly voluptuous body, black sheer hose and shiny black pumps. She had refused to clip her visitor's badge to her dress, he noticed and instead chose to clip it to her clutch bag that she held at her abdomen.
Mr. Montelongo was likewise exceptionally handsome and fit, though he showed his age of 48 by the hint of grey at his temples that had just begun to intrude upon his thick, dark hair. General Middleton felt a twinge of envy. His own hair had started greying prematurely when he was only 35, and had gone fully silver by the time he was 48, and now it had changed again in the years since to a brilliant white. But at least he still had a full head of hair.
"Please, sit. What is it that I can do for you?"
Mrs. Montelongo smiled, a genuine smile he couldn't help being affected by. "You've pronounced it perfectly, General. However did you get it correct? The slight pause between the first and second syllable, the slide of the third without overstressing. You must have spent time in Spain."
In fact, he'd called a friend at the Spanish Embassy for information about the Montelongo's, and he'd been coached on the pronunciation. He'd been correct in his guess: they were very well connected.
"I admit I cheated. I called the Embassy for coaching." He faked a wince and shrugged. He hoped it would play.
Mrs. Montelongo laughed, a musical and delightful sound. Her husband held out his hand to her which she took as she sat gracefully in the overstuffed chair across from his desk, on the edge of the seat as was proper, her ankles crossed, her back at a rigid 90 degrees that would put to shame any troops at attention on a parade march. Mr. Montelongo released when she was in position, then sat himself, fully reclining to rest against the back of the chair, and surprisingly crossing his ankle over his knee in a relaxed position. Somewhat a study of opposites.
She smiled. "Oh, it IS nice to make matters easier with just a phone call, I agree. Your friend seems very knowledgeable. I'm sure we know him. Possibly the Ambassador's secretary Francisco? Jaime de Ojeda y Eiseley has the most proficient staff."
General Middleton smiled. Yes, he liked her, and her games. "And now you surprise me in return, Madam. You are correct. Francisco has become a personal friend, our sons work in the same law firm."
"You must be very proud." She remarked.
He was just about to respond when there was a knock at the door. Without waiting for a response, Candler entered carrying a tray. Perfect timing.
"I took the liberty of having tea brought. Black Tea, I believe?" He raised his eyebrows with the question, along with a slight but pleasant smile.
Her face was radiant. "Oh, yes, we'll get along fine, General. Does your man pour?"
"He does."
Candler was playing his own game, and MIddleton wanted to laugh, but couldn't. Instead of his uniform, Candler had changed into a black suit, black tie, white shirt, every inch the trusted servant rather than a Brigadier General of the U.S. Army. His lieutenant must have explained the situation to Candler, thank God. Another on the long list of reasons he had the lieutenant on his staff. Anticipate your superiors.
"Cream, no sugar." She said. General Middleton had expected it to come out as an order, but instead it was downright pleasant and not arrogant at all.
"Yes, Madam." Candler said in his most subservient and serious voice. "Would Sir care for tea?"
Mr. Montelongo grinned. "Sir would love a Bourbon. If you've got it."
"I can do that." Middleton replied, turning behind him to his credenza and opening the bottom drawer. He pulled out two Waterford tumblers and the decanter he stored there. The set was a promotion gift when he'd received his third star, from the very same Francisco whose ears were probably burning at this very moment. A gift not too extravagant, which wasn't allowed between a foreign national and a General at the Pentagon. "It's Jack Daniels, if that's okay."
"A bad bourbon doesn't exist, General." Mr. Montelongo replied.
He poured two fingers in each tumbler, then stood to deliver Mr. Montelongo's to him personally. If there were actual stakes to this meeting, he might have entertained the power play of setting the glass on the edge of his desk so that Montelongo would have to retrieve it. But there was no point to petty games like that in this situation, and the General firmly believed you could catch more flies with honey. By this time Candler had delivered the teacup and saucer to Mrs. Montelongo. "I certainly didn't expect Wedgewood in the Pentagon, General. Your tea set is beautiful."
"Oh, it's not mine, Mrs. Montelongo." General Middleton replied.
She smiled. "I know. It's his. My compliments General Candler, it's a fine set, and you make a lovely pot. I do appreciate the service, though it wasn't necessary. I do hope Francisco didn't make me out to be some kind of monster if you saw the need for this performance."
Out played. Well, Francisco hadn't been exaggerating. Mr. Montelongo was sipping on his bourbon with a pleased smile.
"I don't blame you, General, but you'll find it damn near impossible to out maneuver my wife." He raised his glass in a salute. "Damn good try, though, fun to watch."
"No, Francisco told me your preferences, to be sure." Middleton explained. "But he warned me against being anything but direct. I thought he was exaggerating. Turns out he gave me sound advice."
Her laugh, once again, was a thing of beauty. "I think that all went very well, and I hope I surprised you as much as you surprised me, General."
He had to admit, she had. "It's not often I'm not the one in control in my own office, Madam. I offer my surrender."
"Accepted, of course. With one condition."
Here it comes, he thought. Get me off balance, then go for the kill. He had to admire her skillful manipulation. Still, he was no pushover.
"Which is?" He prompted.
"You pour a little of that bourbon in this lovely teacup. I love Black Tea, but a touch of bourbon fortifies the spirit."
Middleton found himself laughing in spite of himself. She glanced over at General Candler and winked. "Don't be so dour, you must try it yourself before you judge." She turned once again to look at him. "I know you're a busy man, so we won't waste your time, and we have a luncheon with the Ambassador in an hour. The presence of my son's file between us, on a stack of similar files, tells me you already know why we're here." Middleton had gone over to pour a splash of bourbon in her tea.
"I admit I don't. I know it must be about your son, but nothing specific. I decided to familiarize myself with his record when it became apparent you wouldn't give up trying to get ahold of me. Candler, the Lady recommended you give it a try. It would be rude to refuse." He said to his junior. Candler poured himself a cup, using the one he expected to serve to Mr. Montelongo and held it out. "That's the spirit."
Mrs. Montelongo nodded. "I appreciate your being prepared. We'd like you to give him a hardship discharge. We understand he's involved in some special training program that no one will talk about, but as our only child we can't risk endangering his life."
"And how does your son feel about this?" He'd tried to get ahold of the Private, but he was off post on a pass and no one knew where he was. Even if they did, Middleton wouldn't cancel his pass just to get some answers about why his parents were making a nuisance of themselves.
"He'll resist. He did this on his own, without our approval." She said.
The term `without our approval' said volumes about what kind of family this was, in spite of Mrs. Montelongo's charm and beauty.
"I assure you, he's in no danger. The program he's in is still in the training phase. The real world phase is next, of course, but considerations can be made to keep him in country."
"Every week he's in your military is a week he's not learning what he needs to be a part of this family, General."
"I understand your position, and his value, Mrs. Montelongo. Have you considered that what he's learning in the military has its own value, something he can't learn anywhere else? Your son is very capable, I've read his file, and I've no doubt you have your own informants keeping tabs on him, so you know he's doing well. He only has a four year enlistment. What's wrong with letting him ride it out? He seems to want to, he's made no reports to his superiors that he's unhappy. If I may say so, he's cut from the same cloth as you. He's been very careful not to excel, staying solidly at the top of the middle, when I think we both know he could do so much better. I think he's enjoying himself. His careful positioning tells me he's got a sharp mind, and the ability to keep himself exactly where he wants to be. All-State Wrestling Champ in his weight class? A 4.2 GPA in his academics, with honors in Physics, Calculus, History and Literature. A 1596 on his SAT, almost acing both math and language. I suspect he did that on purpose, failing to achieve a perfect score. Your son is smart enough to know what he's doing, I think. I'll be direct, as Francisco suggested: I think your son needed a break, needed to take some time to find out who he was, who he wanted to be. He's trying incredibly hard to be absolutely normal, to raise no flags, he tells no one who he is, did you know that? Not one of his closest friends know his father owns and runs a multi-billion dollar international company, shakes hands with royalty, has dinner with the President and is the 375th wealthiest person in the world. They probably don't know about your family at all. I don't know many young men who wouldn't brag about that or try to get special treatment. Yet, your son doesn't. It says quite a bit about who he is. I think you'll find he's far more cooperative with your future plans if you let him have this time. He's got two years left. The more your interfere, the more he'll resent you. Take it from a father who made that mistake. My son and I eventually repaired our relationship, but it wasn't easy. I think Addison will get whatever he's looking for in his time with us, even if it's just having the experience of being a normal kid, if you let him, and he'll return to you with a new focus."
He hadn't intended to give parental advice, it just came out. The usual hard line wasn't going to work with them he intuited. While he could probably kick the kid out of the study program easily enough, Collins would be irritated, saying it compromised the results. Collins needed this study to be without wrinkles in order to make clear recommendations. He'd custom built this program after visits to the militaries of several allied countries to study the interaction between homosexual troops and their comrades. But only Americans knew the peculiar opinions of puritanical Americans. He wouldn't change a single thing about the study program without talking to Major Collins first, and he was out of contact for two weeks.
"We know our son, General. He didn't do this to spite us. He has some romantic notion of being a soldier, with all the tough, gritty brutality it involves. He has no idea what true war is. He's playing a pretend game, knowing there are no actual consequences for his failure." She sighed. "We've spoiled him, it's true, but he's a good boy. And every year he's playing pretend he isn't getting the education he needs to take his place in the business. Release him from your program so that his discharge can happen. We've already arranged it." She looked at her husband.
Mr. Montelongo finally leaned forward. "Senator Graham's office will have the paperwork on your desk this afternoon. We appreciate your doing this for us."
It was clear the Montelongo's were accustomed to getting their way, being in control, and navigating the political hallways of Washington, D.C. He was going to have to choose his options very carefully. People like them had backup plans and alternate strategies waiting in case their initial request was denied. He was going to have to figure out just how important this kid was to the study program. One thing was certain, the Montelongo's absolutely could not find out the nature of the study program. He had a feeling the hell they could unleash would make actual wartime combat feel like a fun day in the park.
What a fucking mess.