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November 18, 1983
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Frank Woods sat in the driver’s seat of his 1979 blue Ford F-Series. Despite the chill in the winter air, he had his window rolled down, music playing low, and he subconsciously tugged at the collar of his shirt.
He was in the parking lot of the airport. Alex Mason’s flight was supposed to have landed about thirty minutes ago. Each minute that crawled by made Woods more and more nervous.
It was their first time seeing each other in nearly a year.
Mason’s wife and son were in Canada visiting her family for the week, and Mason decided he didn’t want to be alone at the cabin for that long. So, he’d called Woods and asked him if he wanted company for a few days.
Woods had been surprised to hear from him, but of course was happy to take him in.
Another fifteen minutes passed, and Woods wasn’t getting any less restless. He almost decided he was going to go into the damn airport and look for Mason himself, but just as he reached for his keys to shut off the ignition, he saw a familiar figure making its way towards the vehicle, luggage in hand.
Woods let out a sigh, a mix between relief and more anxiety. He opened his door and stepped out of the car, giving Mason a quick wave.
Mason waved back, a smile tugging on his lips.
“Woods,” Mason greeted as he approached him. “I was gonna say you look like hammered shit, but that’d be a lie. You get a haircut?”
Woods shook his head as he pulled open the trunk gate. “Nah, not recently. Just actually brushed it for once.”
Before Woods could say anything else, Mason pulled him into a quick but meaningful hug, patting his back a few times. “It’s good to see you, Frank.” He said softly.
Woods hugged back, a bit awkwardly at first, but that‘s because he was so nervous. Knew what he was getting himself into. “You too, Alex.”
Once they pulled away, Woods straightened his jacket a bit before grabbing Mason’s suitcase and placing it in the back of the truck. “How was the flight?”
“Ten hours of turbulence and a crying baby.” Mason replied with a huff. “Luckily I fell asleep for the last three.”
Woods crossed his arms after he shut the trunk, leaning against his truck. “Well, luckily you’ve got a nice bed waiting for you at my place. You hungry?”
“Fuckin’ starving. Didn’t wanna waste fifteen dollars on stale airport food.”
Just what Frank wanted to hear. He always looked for an excuse to go get a burger.
“Then how ‘bout we stop through a drive thru and head back to my place? You haven’t seen this one yet. I’ve got some beers at home. You look like you could use one.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Mason said with a soft chuckle. “Let’s do it.”
— Back at Woods’ Apartment —
45 minutes later, the men were at Frank’s small but cozy 2-bedroom apartment in downtown Philadelphia. They were sitting on the sofa with fast food, beer, and cigarette cartons splayed out across the coffee table. The TV was playing softly in the background as both men caught up.
Mason said that his son, David, had been doing great. Knew his ABC’s, count to almost 50. Mason couldn’t believe he was gonna start kindergarten next year.
Mason also mentioned that him and his wife, Cathy, weren’t doing so great, that she’d been sick for a while, and even though Mason was doing everything he could for her, it was taking a toll on their marriage. Big time.
Woods’ activities weren’t quite as interesting. He’d gotten a gym membership, been working on a project car, was thinking about getting a dog.
And then he mentioned he’d been talking to a guy; nothing serious, nothing emotional about it, but Woods couldn’t just call it a one night stand, because he’d been seeing the guy frequently. They just didn’t have a label for what they were doing.
That got Alex’s attention.
“A guy, huh?” Alex asked as he laid back against the couch, trying to keep is tone casual, nonchalant. “You guys a thing?”
Woods shook his head, his thumb tapping against the bottle of beer in his hand. “Nah, nothing like that,” he replied, his eyes refusing to meet Mason’s at first. He knew Mason would probably get weird about it. Pretend he wasn’t jealous when he was secretly seething inside. That wasn’t new, either. “Just been talkin’, gettin’ to know each other. Spending a few nights together here and there.” Woods finally looked up, eyes meeting Mason’s. Mason had been looking at him the whole time. “Nothin’ serious.”
“What’s his name?”
“Vincent.”
“He treating you alright?”
Woods chuckled at that. “He treats me fine, Mason. Like I said, it’s nothin’ serious. I only see him maybe once or twice a week, if that.”
“Huh.” Mason nodded, not realizing he was gripping the neck of the glass bottle in his hand tighter than necessary. “Alright.”
Mason knew he had absolutely no room to be jealous. Not even a little bit. He wasn’t even completely gay, he had a wife and a kid at home. He also knew that Woods had every right in the world to see other people. But for some reason, in that moment, hearing that Woods was slowly being claimed by another man nearly made Mason sick to his stomach.
Frank was picking up on it instantly. He eyed Alex a bit, watching his grip tighten on the bottle and his feet shift slightly as if he was uncomfortable.
A beat of silence passed before Frank finally spoke up.
“…Somethin’ wrong?”
Mason’s eyes shot up to Woods from where he’d been staring at the floor. He cleared his throat. “No,” He responded a little too quickly, his eyes shooting back down to the floor. He took a swig of his beer to try to look casual. He was failing miserably.
Woods watched him do this. He was almost entertained. “Then why’re you bein’ weird all of a sudden?”
“What do you mean?”
Woods gave a half scoff, half laugh. “You jealous, Mason?”
Now it was Mason’s turn to scoff. He waved Frank off and took another long swing of his beer before setting it down onto the coffee table with a thud. The tension in his shoulders was giving him away.
Mason went to respond, went to call Woods crazy for even thinking that, but the words caught in his throat. He sat there for a moment, his words threatening to betray his heart. Because of course he was jealous.
He finally looked up and met Woods’ eyes again before leaning back against the couch.
“No.” Mason finally answered simply, but Woods knew better.
“No?”
“No. Not jealous.”
Frank studied his friend for a moment, watching him, taking in his bullshit. But he decided not to push it. So, he shrugged. “Alright,” he responded casually, taking a sip of his drink. He continued on a different topic, “Anyways, do you think you and—“
“Do you like him, though?” Alex interrupted suddenly, his words quick and starting to slur slightly from the alcohol.
Woods blinked and stared at the other man. “Like him?”
“Yeah. That Vincent guy.” Alex responded. The dam had broke. The thought of another man fucking Frank or making love to him or seeing him so intimately like that was making Alex uneasy, possessive.
Frank set his drink down and scratched the back of his neck, a smirk threatening at his lips. “Define ‘like’.”
Alex let out a breath through his nose. He was sitting up straight now. “Do you enjoy his company?”
“I mean,” Woods shrugged. “We see each other at least once a week. I can’t say I don’t enjoy it.”
Alex swallowed. Nodded. “Does he fuck you good?”
Woods would’ve spit out his beer if he had any left. His eyes widened a bit, eyebrows raised. “Come again?”
Alex stared at him for a moment, then repeated himself: “Does he fuck you good, Frank?”
Frank stared back, trying to decide if he really wanted to say what he was about to say next. He knew Alex would eventually ask about it anyways.
“Yeah, sure, but… you know there’s more than just him, right?”
There was a stretch of silence, so he continued.
“That’s just the one I’ve been seeing lately. I’ll be honest, Mason, since the last time I saw you, I’ve been with…” Frank started counting on his fingers for emphasis, maybe just to get back at him in a way. “Three or four other guys, including him.”
Alex felt heat in the pit of his stomach. It was some weird, twisted feeling of both pure jealousy, but also… arousal? It felt like his pants were suddenly too tight, and it was suddenly too hot for the shirt he was wearing.
Frank could really tell something was off now in Alex. His posture, his demeanor; this wasn’t his first time being jealous. So, he called him out:
“You’re bein’ jealous again.”
Alex’s jaw tightened. Frank wasn’t stupid – of course he was catching on. There was no use in lying to him at this point. “I just don’t like that other guys are touching you like that.”
Frank barked a short laughed at that one. “Oh? Sorry, I didn’t realize you get to have a wife, but I’ve gotta stay celibate and wait for the one or two times a year I get to see you alone. My bad.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s what you meant.” Frank replied matter-of-factly.
Alex stared at him for a beat before he spoke: “You think I want it to be like this, Frank?” He finally asked him. This time his voice was slightly more quiet, controlled. He scooted over closer to Woods, his eyes serious and almost pleading. “You think I don’t think about you all the time?”
There were only a few inches of space between Mason and Woods now. Woods could smell the alcohol and cigarettes on Mason, but somehow it was comforting.
“I’m sure you do think about me, Alex.” Woods said softly.
Alex studied Frank’s face for several seconds, his eyes trailing and mapping out his familiar features. He decided that later he could blame the alcohol for making him lean in and kiss Frank suddenly. He cupped Frank’s face and kissed him deeply, firmly, and almost desperately.
Frank’s eyes widened only momentarily, but he knew this was coming at some point. Halfway through his eyes closed softly and he just let Alex kiss him. He knew where this was going. This was always how it went.
When Mason finally pulled away, he kept Woods’ face in his hands. He leaned in and kissed him again, a bit shorter this time, but when he pulled away, his face looked almost distraught.
“I don’t want to hear about them anymore.” Mason mumbled quickly, his voice low.
Woods licked the side of his own lip. “You’re the one that asked about ‘em.”
“I know,” Mason said, finally letting go of Woods’ face, but his hands simply trailed down to tug at Woods’ shirt collar a bit, then his hands slid to his chest, then up to his shoulders, where Mason finally set them. “I just… Uh. Wanted to make sure they’re treating you okay.”
Woods’ eyes softened. Mason always had a way of doing that to him. “They’re treating me fine.”
Alex just nodded, his eyes pointed downwards. He squeezed Frank’s shoulders once before letting go, letting his hands slide back into his own lap. He wasn’t trying to pout. He just didn’t know what to say next, because he knew he was being hypocritical.
A few moments of quietness passed between them – just the hum of the TV in the background – until Woods reached over and teasingly pinched the side of Mason’s forearm.
“Hey.”
Mason looked up at him.
“No moping,” Woods said, a smirk on his face. “This isn’t about them, or your wife, or anyone else. I haven’t seen you in almost a damn year. Now isn’t the time to be sad, Romeo.” (He didn’t know he’d be eating his own words later.)
Mason just looked at him, trying to be annoyed at him. He huffed, but it was clearly out of fondness. “Alright, alright,” he said, relaxing back against the back of the couch again. He’d drop it for now. But he didn’t scoot away from Woods. He stayed there right next to the other Marine, pressed up against him, his own hands now intertwined in his lap. He started ‘watching’ the TV, though he wasn’t absorbing a single thing that was on.
Now it was Frank’s turn to sigh. He turned in his spot to face more towards Alex, and he looked him up and down quickly, as if debating something in his mind. Alex watched him as he did this.
But before he could do much else, Frank got up and straddled Alex’s lap, a leg on either side of him, and he moved Alex’s hands out of the way before setting his weight down onto him. Alex’s hands automatically found their way to Frank’s hips, and Frank wrapped his arms around the other’s shoulders before pulling him into a deep kiss.
Alex’s hands slid underneath Frank’s shirt as he kissed back, feeling his warm skin, his abs, how damn hairy that man’s always been. But Alex fucking loved it. It wasn’t long before Alex was tugging off Frank’s shirt, and it was quickly tossed to the floor after that.
His hands were soon unbuckling Woods’ belt, unbuttoning his jeans, and tugging his zipper down. Alex pulled down the waist of the jeans so you could see Frank’s briefs.
“Take these off.” Alex demanded.
Frank tisked.
“Bossy, Mason.” … but Woods still stood up and obeyed. He took his jeans all the way off, kicked them aside, and then stepped forward and stood right in front of Mason before pulling his briefs down, revealing his already hardened cock.
Mason pulled Woods closer by the hips and stopped him once Woods’ cock was right in his face. His eyes flickered from his cock, then up to Woods’ face, then back to his cock, and before he could stop himself, he wrapped a hand around it.
“What do they do to you, Woods?”
Alex’s question caught Frank off guard. “Who?”
“You know who. These guys you see all the time.”
Frank rolled his eyes so hard it was almost audible. “Jesus. You’re makin’ me sound like a whore, Mason.”
“You’re not,” Alex replied, though he may not have meant it. His hand was still there on Frank’s cock, and he very slowly began to stroke it with his fingertips. “But I wanna know what they do to you. How they get you off.”
Frank shivered at the feeling of Alex’s fingertips. “You just got done tellin’ me you didn’t wanna hear about them.”
“Just answer the damn question, Frank.”
Ah. Frank knew exactly what this was. Alex felt like he had competition. Needed to prove why he should be Frank’s only. But if Alex asks, Alex will receive.
“Well,” Frank started, still slightly distracted by Alex’s warm hand that had started stroking on him. “Depends on the man. Couple weeks ago, Vincent let me do a line of coke off his abs before he bent me over his couch and fucked me for over an hour. Couldn’t walk right the next day.”
Alex listened closely, staring up at Frank as he stroked his throbbing cock slowly.
“I let another guy tie me to a chair and edge me. You know what that is?”
Mason shook his head.
“It’s means he kept getting me close to orgasm, but didn’t actually let me cum until the very end. Makes it more intense. He made me beg him for it. That was pretty fun.”
The pace of Alex’s fingers on Frank’s cock sped up slightly, and he gave Frank that look that said ‘keep going’.
Frank’s head tilted back slightly at Alex’s touch. “Met a younger guy at a bar this summer, about twenty-five or twenty-six. He happened to be a Marine on leave. Very handsome, very masculine, but very submissive. Usually I bottom, but this was his first time with a man, so I topped.” Woods tipped his head back down to look at Mason. “He called me daddy while I fucked him.”
Frank had a smirk on his face as he told these stories, like he was proud of himself. Whether he was or not was debatable. He was also starting to inch his way closer to his own climax. Reliving his experiences with men all while Alex was stroking him off was getting him there quickly.
“That Marine,” Frank continued, having to catch his breath. “He begged me for my phone number after. Begged me. Said he had to see me again.”
“Did you give it to him?”
“Course I did.”
“And did you see him again?”
“Yup.”
Alex’s free hand drifted upwards and latched itself on Woods’ hip. His eyes were still glued to Frank.
“There was another one,” Woods continued, his words a little shaky and uneven now. “James. He was ten years younger than me, but was maybe an inch or two taller than me. Looked like that actor Tom Selleck. God,” Frank couldn’t help but damn near giggle at this one. “He laid me on his bed, folded me like a fuckin’ lawn chair, and ate me out. Tongue to ass, Mason. It was crazy. And fuck - I still think about it to this day.”
Alex continued his motions. Gave the tip some attention with his thumb and continued to gaze at Frank while he gave him this information. “Sounds like you’ve been busy.”
Woods shrugged. “I like sex. What can I say.” He responded breathily. One hand was now gripping Mason’s shoulder, and Woods’ head tilted back even more. His eyes squeezed shut and he muttered, “‘Bout to cum.”
Alex kept his hand at a steady pace, even though instinct made him want to speed up; that’s one thing Frank had taught him in bed years ago when Alex had ruined the moment. “If someone says they’re about to cum, don’t change your pace or rhythm, dipshit. It’ll throw them off. Stay steady.” Wise words from Frank Woods, and Mason remembered them. His movements stayed the same as he jerked Woods, and soon Woods let out a shuddered breath, his hand squeezing Mason’s shoulder, and he came all over Mason’s hand and still-clothed chest. Woods hissed through his teeth slightly as Mason continued to stroke him through it, with Woods’ seed staring to drip down Mason’s arm.
Woods stopped him after a moment due to being overstimulated. He gently grabbed Mason’s wrist. He took a deep breath, his head tilting downwards to look at his friend, and he smiled at him. “Not bad.”
Mason nearly scoffed. “Not bad?”
“Mhmm,” Woods hummed in response. “A little dry, coulda used some spit or somethin’. But it was good.”
Mason wiped his sticky hand off onto his shirt since it was messy now anyways. “Figured you’d get off on talking about those guys.” He said it with a teasing edge to it, but Woods knew better.
He shot Alex a look, but it wasn’t angry or annoyed. “You do think I’m a whore, don’t you?” He asked, his own tone half-serious and half-teasing.
Alex stayed quiet for a moment, his eyes finally peeling away from Frank’s. He looked down at the remnants of the mess on his hand. “I’m just surprised you don’t find one to settle down with.”
The air seemed to have shifted just slightly. The humor left Frank’s face. He reached down and tilted Alex’s chin up with his finger.
“That’s because the only man I’m interested in settling down with is married and has a kid. Not really an option anymore.”
Alex knew Frank was being serious. Shit, Alex had known that Frank’s had a thing for him since before Vietnam. But Alex was always the one to back away, to say he couldn’t live like this. It always killed him, but now he had no choice. He had responsibilities - AKA a wife and a child.
“Why don’t you have any interest in any other men? As in settling down with one.”
Woods let go of Mason’s chin and stepped away so that his cock wasn’t right up in his face anymore.
“None of them know me like you do. Sure, there’s been one or two of ‘em that I feel like I could have a decent thing with. But I don’t let myself fall in love with them.”
“But why? Let them see you, Frank. Let them see who you really are.”
Frank laughed at that, but it was humorless, even teetering on bitter. “I just told you, Mason. Nobody knows me the same way you do. Knows what I’ve been through without me having to live through it again just to tell them. Besides, most men looking to settle down aren’t exactly thrilled at the idea of being with someone who has about a fifty percent or more chance of dyin’ on the job and not coming home to them.”
Alex realized that maybe this wasn’t the conversation to be having right now. Frank was still ass naked in front of him, but his whole demeanor had changed. Before Alex could say anything else, Frank did first.
“I don’t wanna talk about this anymore, Alex. We both know why you’re here; to get your fix. To fuck me and tell me that you love me, then wake up and remind me you aren’t actually gay, and then go home to your wife and pretend you weren’t just cheating on her. I get it. It is what it is.” Frank’s voice wasn’t harsh or raised, if anything it was laced with pain. Decades worth of it. But it left no room for argument. “Just- just take your clothes off. Get naked and fuck me. No more of this sentimental bullshit.”
Alex desperately wanted to tell Frank that none of that was true, but he couldn’t. Because that’s exactly what was going to happen. It always did. Yet almost once a year, they always ended up right back here. It was a cycle.
Alex also knew that nothing he could say right now would make this better. As cruel and cold as it felt, Alex just simply stood up, tugged his shirt off and tossed it to the floor. “Get on the couch then.” He said in a low, slightly guilty voice as his hands were now fumbling to unbutton his own jeans to take off.
By the time his jeans were on the floor, Frank was climbing onto the couch. He sunk down onto the cushions, lying on his back, his legs spread and open, waiting for Alex to settle between them. His entire energy was different now, more tense and desperate and maybe even sad, but now wasn’t the time to play therapist and discuss it.
Once Mason was finally naked, clothes tossed onto the floor, he knelt between Woods’ legs, settling there. He spread Woods apart and spat on his hole, admiring how pretty and tight it was after all this time. He then reached up with a hand and slipped his middle finger into Woods’ mouth.
Woods took it into his mouth willingly. He swirled his tongue around it, slicking it up, enjoying the taste of Mason. Mason soon pulled his finger out with a soft *pop* sound, and that finger found its way back down to Woods’ hole.
Mason looked at Woods for permission to enter, and Woods gave a short nod, his brows furrowed slightly, his face tight with something Mason couldn’t quite read yet. Mason then slipped his slicked up finger inside of Woods, starting slow, letting Woods get used to the feeling despite him having done this more times than he could count.
Woods didn’t need to be opened up. He wanted it to hurt. He knew he was letting himself get close to Mason just to have Mason tear away from him again in a few days. He told himself that he was used to it, that this is just how things were between them. But that didn’t make it hurt any less. In fact, Woods felt like a fucking idiot for letting himself go through this again. But in his mind, maybe it was worth it to be able to be close to the man he loved most like this. Even if he had to pay the price after.
Amidst Frank’s thoughts, TV still playing quietly in the background, Alex pushed in his pointer finger as well, scissoring them in and out of Frank to loosen him up. Frank finally let himself come back to the moment. He let out a low, gravelly sound deep in his throat as Alex’s fingers scissored against his sweet spot. But something in him didn’t want it like this anymore. Frank reached down and grabbed Alex’s wrist, stopping it.
“Just fuck me.”
Alex looked at him, studying the tension in his face. The sadness radiating off of him. “Frank, are you-“
“Don’t- don’t start anything, Alex.” Woods said sharply. “Just fuckin’ wreck me. Please. Do what you came to do.”
So, Alex did just that. Stood up between Frank’s legs, knees supporting themselves on the edge of the couch, and he fucked Frank. Hard. Bent Frank’s knees up against his chest to get in there deeper. Made Frank cum again.
Then they switched positions. Now they were on the floor doing it doggy style with Frank’s ass in the air, and Alex pounding into him mercilessly, fingers digging into Frank’s hips hard enough to leave welts. Both of them came this time.
Finally, still on the floor, Mason was fucking Woods missionary style. Woods’ legs were wrapped desperately around Mason’s waist, and Mason was fucking him roughly, just the way Woods liked it.
Woods’ nails were digging deep into the flesh on Mason’s back. Filthy moans were escaping his lips. Mason’s face was buried into Woods’ neck as he moaned against him, drool slipping from his mouth, kisses and bites displaying proudly on Woods’ skin.
“I love you,” Mason moaned against his skin like he did every single time they did this. “I love you, Frank. I love you, I- fuck-“ he nearly whimpered against his neck as he came again hard, balls deep inside the man underneath him. Mason shuddered and groaned and reached down with one hand, gripping Woods’ hip and pulling it closer to himself so he could stay as deep of inside him as possible.
Mason thrusted into him through his orgasm, sweat beading at his forehead, breath heavy like he’d just ran a mile. He finally stopped thrusting and let go of Frank’s hip, but he reburied his face into the damp skin of his neck, leaving kisses there and just taking in the scent of him.
Alex loved this man. He truly, genuinely, wholeheartedly loved him. And he tried not to think about his wife as he pressed a deep, slow, deliberate kiss to Frank’s lips. Once he finally was able to pull away, he hovered over Frank for a moment, eyeing him up and down.
Frank was a mess, both physically and mentally. He was drenched in cum, his cheeks were flushed, his hair disheveled, and he had spit and hickeys all across his chest and neck. He’d came nearly five times so he was satisfied physically. But mentally he felt worse than he did when they started.
Alex told Frank that he loved him. Over and over and over again. Had the nerve to get jealous over other men who’d had their turn with Frank. Whispered in his ear and assured him that if it weren’t for his wife, he’d have a life with Frank. A real good, domestic one.
But that was off the table, and Frank didn’t need to be reminded of it while getting fucked. But that’s what happened. Despite that, however, Woods was just trying to be content with the fact that right now, in this moment in time, Alex was his and only his, still deep inside of him, his cum threatening to spill out of him when he pulled out. He had Alex’s saliva all over him, and he was marked up by him and would be for days.
Alex knew what this look in Frank’s eyes meant. But he was spent, sore, and needed a shower and a glass of water. He finally pulled out slowly, and his seed immediately started leaking out of Frank.
“Jesus,” Alex mumbled as he watched the mess leak onto the hardwood floor beneath Frank. “You got towels anywhere?”
“Down the hall,” Frank responded, voice breathy, staying still so that no bigger mess was made. “First door to the right is the closet.”
Alex trotted down the hall and grabbed two towels for them. He cleaned his own self off while he walked back down the hall towards Frank. Alex had the decency to at least help clean his own jizz off of Frank’s body and floor.
Once they were both wiped up, Alex stood back up and extended an arm down to help Frank up. Frank took it, allowing Alex to help him to his feet, a grunt escaping his throat and his knees and back cracking once or twice.
Once on his feet, Frank grabbed his briefs from the floor and started putting them back on. “You want some water or anything?”
Alex nodded, not bothering to find his own yet. “Water, please. You alright if I shower, too?”
Frank nodded as he walked into the kitchen to get them both a water bottle from the fridge. He looked tired. Understandably so, as he’d just had four orgasms and a long day. He came back into the living room and handed Alex a water bottle before screwing the lid off of his own. “Shower’s in the bathroom connected to my bedroom. Down the hall, furthest door on the left.”
Alex nodded, watching Frank down nearly half of his water bottle in one go. “You wanna join me?”
Frank let out a breathless chuckle. “I don’t think I can go on any longer, Mason. I’m beat.”
“No, not to fuck some more. Just so we can both clean off. I think it’d make you feel a little better.”
Frank so badly wanted to quip back at that with something sarcastic, but he didn’t have it in him. He knew Alex was just trying to be kind, trying to make the best out of whatever was going on with Frank. He let out a tired sigh and gave in. “Alright. Let’s make it quick.”
Mason was content with that answer. Both men made it back down the hall and into Woods’ bedroom. It was surprisingly clean for the type of man Woods was; clearly lived in, but tidy.
Once they were in the shower, Frank took the liberty of helping Alex wash off first. Frank lathered up Alex’s back, his chest, his stomach - basically anywhere that he’d made a mess. Then it was Frank’s turn, and Alex did basically the same thing; washed his back, chest, stomach, but then went the extra mile and shampooed and conditioned Frank’s hair, massaging his scalp a bit too, just because he wanted to.
After thirty minutes, their shower was done. Frank was feeling a little bit less tense physically, and he was too tired to really feel anything mentally.
Both men dried off and got dressed into some comfortable clothes for the night. As Alex was brushing his teeth in the bathroom, Frank leaned against the doorway and folded his arms in an attempt to be casual. “You wanna sleep in my room with me tonight?”
Alex looked at Frank through their reflection in the mirror. He thought that was the idea that whole time. “I do, if that’s fine with you.”
“Wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t.”
Once they’d finally gotten into bed and underneath the covers, they said their goodnights and they settled in - but only for a moment. Alex was lying on his back, and Frank was on his side facing the wall.
After a moment, Alex nudged Frank lightly.
“Hmm?” Frank hummed sleepily.
“I wanna hold you.”
Frank huffed a quick breath of laughter. He would’ve teased Alex hard for that, but he didn’t have the energy to tonight. Instead he just lazily rolled over so that he was facing Alex, and he scooted closer to him, resting his head against Alex’s chest. Alex wrapped his arms around Frank, one underneath him to rest on his back, and the other resting atop Frank’s arm. They finally settled in for real, the only sounds in the room being the ceiling fan humming and their breaths mingling.
As Woods slowly fell asleep, he was mentally preparing himself for how he was going to feel in a few days when Mason leaves. The cycle was always that they’d spend the whole day together each day, fuck every single night, and then after a few days of getting desperately attached to Alex, he’d leave and fly back home to his family. Happened every time.
Woods knew he was gonna have to call one of those other guys when Mason left. He felt guilty about it even though he didn’t need to. Alex would be going home to a wife. So, Woods thought about who he’d hit up first when Mason was gone.
That Marine kid Donovan was back on base in San Diego, so that wasn’t happening.
Woods hadn’t heard from or seen James in a while. Maybe he could try calling him.
But then Vincent would also probably call Frank in a few days to check in and invite him over.
He had options.
None of them were as good as Alex Mason, but he had no other choice but to be okay with that.