Gunnery Sergeant Richard Myweigh stepped off the Greyhound bus at the bus station in the town outside of Camp Lejeune and looked around him. He desperately wanted to stretch out every kink his forty-five-year-old body had developed on the damned bus but made himself wait. He eyed his fellow passengers and moved aside to get out of the way of a young woman pulling a small boy behind her. They’d sat across the aisle from him all trip. She’d spent most of her time on her phone either talking into it or swiping at something on her screen. The boy had been quiet all trip. Occasionally whispering to her, then making his way to the small latrine at the back of the bus only to return a minute or so later, sit back down in his seat, and pick up his book again.
On one such trip Myweigh had stood up to adjust his air conditioning vent and let his eyes wander over his fellow passengers. No one caught his attention until his sharp eyes caught a younger man’s gaze following the kid. Gut tight, Myweigh pulled out his own phone and angled it to keep an eye on the other man. Sure enough, a few seconds after the kid had passed him the other man stood up to follow.
Myweigh didn’t think. His instincts had been honed by every godforsaken skirmish in every godforsaken corner of the planet the US had been involved in for the past twenty odd years. He stood up and followed, hoping to everything holy he was wrong.
Myweigh saw the kid in the back corner, the other man kneeling in front of him, bringing them to eye level. Walking closer quietly, Myweigh listened in. “Like I was saying, kid, your mom’s cute. She seeing anyone?”
The Gunny felt his gut relax. The guy was looking for an in with the mother. Huh. He heard the boy speak next. “She’s not my mom. She’s my sister. Our folks died in a car accident, and now I have to live with Casey. I don’t think she has a boyfriend, but I don’t know. You should ask her if you want to know. Now excuse me I gotta go,” he said, hopping on his feet and pointing at the latrine door behind him. The young guy stood up and backed off a little.
“You gonna wait for him to pee so as he can introduce you to his sister?” Myweigh couldn’t stop himself from asking, voice a little sarcastic and one eyebrow raised. The other man spun around, fists clenched.
“You sneakin’ up on me, old-timer?” he spat out, eyes narrowing when he saw Myweigh was blocking his exit route. Myweigh simply shrugged and leaned against the side of the corridor, leaving just enough room for the younger man to squeeze past him.
“Wasn’t sneakin’, kid. Just worried. Saw you following the boy. Wanted to make sure he was okay, is all,” Myweigh told him simply. He saw the confusion on the other man’s face slowly be replaced by comprehension. This was quickly followed by revulsion.
Myweigh nodded once and turned to leave, making his way back to his seat. He wondered if the young guy would have the guts to go over and speak to the sister.
A minute or so later, the kid returned, this time followed by the young man. “Casey, this is Chris. He wanted to meet you,” he said as he wriggled his way into his seat. Myweigh heard them make some inane conversation and let the drone of their voices wash over him, lulling him into a light doze. The Corps had taught him to sleep or rest anywhere, and he did so now thankful he’d had nothing to worry about.
About thirty minutes out of their destination, Myweigh stood up and retrieved his garment bag. He made his way to the facilities and locked the door behind him. He looked at himself in the mirror. In a white T-shirt and jeans and his salt-and-pepper hair, he looked all right, especially for a man of his age. It was obvious he was fit, but years in desert conditions left him well tanned and with defined lines around his eyes and mouth. Still, he was a good-looking man, hopefully still good-looking enough to turn a certain head belonging to his ex-wife.
Shaking himself away from that frame of thought, he concentrated on switching out his civilian clothes for his Marine uniform. He brushed, pulled, and straightened himself until he was satisfied he looked like a picture-perfect, hard, tough Marine before he made his way back to his seat.
Richard Myweigh had pride in his uniform, in his Corps, and in the country he fought for. Every ounce of that pride was obvious in his stride as he walked back down that bus aisle. Every eye was on him as he put his things away and sat down.
He heard a throat clearing to his right and looked over to see the young man still sitting with the brother and sister. “Umm…sorry about that old-timer crack, okay, man. I didn’t mean nothing by it. I didn’t know,” he said, obviously worried now.
Myweigh just shrugged it off. “You weren’t to know, and I only get insulted when I’m in uniform.” He turned back to face forward.
“Excuse me, Sergeant?” came a shy voice.
Looking back to his right he saw the sister looking at him. He lifted his eyebrows in query.
“It’s a good thing we don’t have to worry about DADT anymore, ’cause I’m not very good at hiding how I feel,” Tyler said as he slowly trailed his lips up Myweigh’s neck to nibble at his jawline. They both heard “Fuck!” and felt a gust of wind pass them before hearing the office door slam shut behind the Colonel as he fled the room.
“Yeah, he still can’t deal with PDAs,” Myweigh chuckled before moving his head enough to run his lips lightly over Tyler’s. He pulled back a touch to see if he was welcome. He waited less than a breath before Tyler’s lips started to move toward his own. Taking that as invitation, Myweigh moved forward and latched their lips together. His tongue swept over the other man’s lips and, at finding a tiny opening, pushed forward to sweep into Tyler’s willing mouth. He heard whining coming from Tyler’s throat as Tyler pushed himself further into Myweigh’s lap, arms wrapped so tightly around Myweigh’s neck they could strangle him easily. Myweigh pulled the hips he was still holding more firmly against himself, feeling both of them starting to get hard. He wrenched his lips away, panting for breath. “Jesus, kid, stop. We have to stop. I haven’t come in my pants since I was a teenager, and I’m not going to start again now.”
He took in a huge breath and gently pushed the younger man off his lap. Tyler stood up and stepped away, obviously unhappy, and leaned back on the desk. They were both panting, and Myweigh couldn’t take his eyes off the other man’s wetly, swollen lips. He watched as Tyler’s red tongue stole out to lick at those lips as if actively seeking out their combined taste. Myweigh could feel any control starting to slip. He threw himself out of his chair. He had to get out of there before he could do something stupid. His hand was on the doorknob. He could smell safety.
“Ric?” Tyler asked timidly, touching Myweigh’s upper arm. It was barely a whisper of a touch, but it broke Myweigh. He spun back to face Tyler. He grabbed the smaller man, spun back, and slammed him into the door behind him. He felt the rush of air leave Tyler’s body and worried he might have been too rough, but his mental capacities had flown the coop. All he could do was feel, and all he wanted was to feel the other’s body flush against his own.
He pressed himself on Tyler and felt the younger man lift himself slightly, using Myweigh himself as leverage, to wrap his legs around Myweigh’s hips. A second later and lips were locked and hungrily devouring each other. Myweigh canted his hips against his willing captive, and the movement was mirrored. He groaned into Tyler’s wet mouth and ground harder. The erection that had never left him just got hotter and harder. He pulled his head away, he had to, and looked at the flushed face so close to his own. “Same page, gorgeous?”
“Yes, fuck yes!” Tyler moaned back, his hips still moving against Myweigh’s. Myweigh swept back into the kiss still waiting for him. His hands moved to support Tyler’s ass and pulled him in even closer, his fingers running back and forth over the stitch line covering Tyler’s asshole. He scratched at it roughly, hearing Tyler’s breath hitch and feeling his hips speed up.
Myweigh could feel the man in his arms start to shiver and shake. They were both so close. Myweigh pulled his mouth away and eagerly sought out the juncture of Tyler’s neck and shoulder. He sucked the skin into his mouth and felt himself bite the area like a caveman. He had to leave his mark on this man, even if only once.
Tyler’s hips stuttered, and Myweigh heard him moan as his sharp teeth bit into Myweigh’s ear, leaving his own mark there. Myweigh’s own orgasm hit him, and he pressed the other man even further into the door as his own hard length pulsed in his pants. He was panting like a steam train. His legs felt like jelly, and every bone in his body went to water.
He consciously locked his knees and leaned against Ty as they both fought to catch their breath. “Wow, if just rubbing off against you is this good, I can’t wait for the rest,” Ty huffed dreamily. Myweigh lifted his head, his face already sad, his eyes already speaking his rejection of the younger man. Ty’s face hardened. He placed a finger over Ric’s lips and shook his head. “Don’t give me any of your bullshit, Gunny. I’ve waited for you since I was fifteen. We are going to give this a shot, even if it doesn’t work. And I can’t see why we wouldn’t work out. We are going to come out of this as friends at least. So you can stuff all of your insecurities into your rucksack and give this a try. I will chase you and wear you down if I have to,” Ty finished, locking his legs even tighter around Myweigh and poking him in the shoulder to emphasise his point.
Myweigh chuckled despite himself and dropped his head to the other man’s shoulder. “Do I even get a choice in this?” he asked ruefully.
“If you’re really not interested, just tell me and I’ll leave you alone, but you have to mean it. What just happened tells me you are interested, however, so it’s not going to be easy to lie to me. I’m a journalist, so I can always smell out bull,” Ty said, eyes flashing a warning.