All we gotta do is be brave and be kind (baby, we'll be fine) - part one
MASTERPOST
All we gotta do is be brave and be kind (baby, we'll be fine)
Part One
Q: The anniversary of ending the war in Iraq is coming up next week. You were there early on, in 2003. How do you feel about your experiences now, after so many years?
A: I’ve stopped questioning myself a long time ago. At first I was constantly second-guessing myself. ‘If this is what I should have done’, ‘What would happen if’. There were a lot of ‘if’s and ‘what about’s. In the end, my whole platoon came back home. That’s what matters the most to me. That's what makes me proud. [Pause.] Truth is, there’s no simple answer to your question. On one hand, there are some things you can never forget. On the other, after Iraq, nothing in the Senate can scare me that much. [Laughs a little.]
*
If a night was particularly bad, Nate would say that nights were the worst. There had to be a limit to how often a man could watch his men getting shot, bombed or crucified, or young children being mutilated and left for dead or shot in close range by his gun, by his hand. There had to be a limit of sleepless hours, waking up in sweat-soaked cold sheets or never even falling asleep at all, just lying there. Just lying there, like in a grave. Sometimes he'd wish that he was back there, where the noises ringing in his ears could be easily explained and where he was so tired that when he could rest, when he allowed himself to do so, he just lay down and immediately fell asleep.
Sometimes he wished he never went there in the first place.
But then a day would come and really, that was just so much worse. Driving a car was a nightmare. A few weeks spent in Iraq erased almost ten years of his experience behind the wheel. There was glass in the windows and air-conditioning. He could see hundreds of cars around, but not one of them was a humvee. There was a radio, but there were no reports. There was life outside, but one day he spent two hours sitting in the car in the parking lot outside of KFC, because he couldn't stop the images of ruined Nasiriyah.
Sometimes he didn't leave his apartment all day and watched TV on mute or too loud. He waited for the sun to go down and then he would go for a run. He knew every block, every building; if asked, he could probably tell how many windows there were in every one of them.
Every time he went to the bathroom, he spent a couple of minutes just looking at his face. Resolving things. Looking for things.
*
Q: Your partner is in the Marine Corps and you were serving together in Iraq. He was in your platoon, under your command. There were some rumors back when your campaign for a Senate seat started...
A: Yes. They weren't true. I'm sure you're aware that there was a formal investigation and we were found innocent. The truth was that while we did meet when I was Brad's commanding officer, our relationship started more than two years after I retired from the Marine Corps. There was no fraternization and certainly nothing that could dishonor either one of us or put us or any Marine we served with at risk of any kind. I deeply cared, still care, for every Marine I've ever had under my command. The bond that's forged between marines, or soldiers of any other branch, is not a myth. It's respect, mutual responsibility, understanding and a few other things we would prefer not to name. So we're all using probably the closest thing that can explain it: a brotherhood.
Q: Brothers in arms?
A: Yes, exactly. As a commanding officer, I didn't have the same relationship with the men in my platoon as they had among themselves. There's always a line between the command and the people following orders. But I think we did alright. [Smiles.]
*
The paddle party at Mike's had been going on for at least four hours already when Nate finished off his second beer. He was definitely too sober for most of the other guys, but this party was one of those things that he felt he had to get through sober because he would embarrass himself otherwise.
Not that he would tell anybody this, obviously.
He had one beer in him when they gave him the paddle and he still almost cried then and there. Fortunately, Ray Person thought it would be a great idea to start stripping right after. Half of the guys started to record it, the other half just went to get more alcohol and Nate had a moment to close his eyes and breathe.
He didn't want to think about tomorrow, about Monday, about next week. This party was the last time all those guys would be his. No matter what he felt, they wouldn't be his the next time they see each other.
They told him their stories. The first training session, working together on their humvees in Camp Mathilda, the cover up of the espresso maker fiasco, directing traffic in the ambush outside Muwaffaqiya, rapping competitions in the command vehicle, standing up to You-Know-Who (and of course the joke about Voldemort came right after, but Ray's delivery made it funny), letting Stafford stay with the platoon after he got shot... It went on and on, and Nate was collecting those good stories as they spoke.
Now he was thinking about his own.
Lying in his grave and listening to Poke telling Reporter about his wife and kids and to Reporter's tales from his former marriage. They were on the route to Baghdad and Nate was tired beyond words, but still couldn't sleep, and somehow those stories helped.
Ray's rants about the future of the world, which were brilliant, but couldn't be shared with civilians. After stripping them of all the pussy and the insults towards pretty much everyone and everything, it just wouldn't be the same.
Brad running in the grass, flying with his arms outstretched, looking almost like an innocent kid that he wasn't.
Mike always being next to him, making him feel a little less alone, pissed off or helpless.
Speaking of whom.
"You alright?" Mike asked and handed him another beer. He sat on the patio chair next to Nate.
"I'm fine," he said, looking at the group sitting around the grill.
Some of the guys were staying in the Corps, a couple of them were transferring and a couple were leaving for good. Nate was proud of all of them, of what they did, but couldn't help being happy for every one who decided to retire. Fuck, maybe in the end he wasn't a good officer, worrying about his guys too much, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't protect them anymore. And he knew it was a stupid thought, really, because his job was never to protect them, not to mention he wasn't the only one or even the best one to lead them. He wasn't irreplaceable.
Still, the picture of them sitting like this, in t-shirts and jeans or khakis, looking both similar and not at all like how they were in Iraq, made him feel like he was suffocating.
*
Q: And after you retired, you began a relationship with one of them.
A: No. After I retired, I came back to college and Brad left the country for two years on an exchange program with the Royal Marines. We talked sometimes and became friends. And then it went like most friends-turn-partners stories, I suppose. [Smiles.] We decided we wanted more than friendship.
*
Nate learned how to not be gay in the Marine Corp as quickly as he did almost anything else. It wasn't that hard, really. You could be so good that nobody would think of asking, whether in fear of getting the answer (they really couldn't afford to lose any more people than they already did, but that insight would come up years later) or with stupid belief that anybody that good couldn't be gay. You could talk a lot about your past girlfriend (and not even lie about her, in Nate's case) or about pussy in general. You could not mention cock at all or you could talk about it a lot, depending which one meant more in establishing hetero status in any given group.
You just dropped the gay part of you, the same way you dropped the tired part, the lazy part, the I-don't-know-what-M-16-can-do-to-a-person part. Some of those parts you could get back when you left. Others you forgot you had ever had.
And apparently, in combat different emotions could sometimes blur together and become unrecognizable or hidden. You didn't see desire, because you thought of trust, of mutual understanding that brought you closer to someone. You explained to yourself that the need to be close was the need to rely on someone, to not go crazy with incompetence and stupidity, and with fear of losing people because of that. You took comfort the best way you could, the best way that was allowed to the Marine Corps officer.
It hadn't been until Nate was back home that he started to see that wasn't all there was. It hadn't been until Brad left for England that Nate started to understand.
.
There were months when they didn't speak with each other at all and usually Nate didn't even miss it much. Between classes and the internship, between studying and working, there was no time for missing anything, he made sure of that.
But between those months there were several phone calls and e-mails and most of the time Nate couldn't decide if they were not enough or too much. Probably both. Still, they were enough to sustain the connection, whatever that connection might be.
.
It wasn't like Nate was meeting or even talking with other guys from his platoon regularly. Aside from Mike, who he talked to every week when they were both stateside, and Ray, who semi-regularly sent all of them crazy e-mails, the contact was rare. During his two years with the Royal Marines Brad missed only two big get-togethers, Stafford's wedding and Mike's I Let You Into My House, But You Better Behave and Clean Up After Yourself Before My Wife and Kids Return party.
So although Brad was the one Nate hadn't seen for the longest time, he wasn't the only one Nate missed. Still, Nate had two years to think and to sort out his feelings, and he knew very well that no matter what, he would always feel differently about Brad.
.
They were sitting in Mike's kitchen, in the exact same place as two and a half years ago, just after Nate's paddle party. It was again the middle of the night, around four a.m. and most of the other guys were either sleeping somewhere or, like in Christeson's case, lying unconscious on the patio chair.
There were new pictures and drawings on the fridge and new shelves above the table. The chairs were still as uncomfortable as the last time, yet they were still sitting on them, over two hours after they came to get the beers.
It was a relief, to still be able to talk with Brad after their lives drifted apart so much. At the paddle party Brad's two years abroad seemed like forever and Nate’s retirement actually was forever. He remembered how he felt then that maybe it's stupid to try to hold on to something that was in the past already. The most significant year of his life over and done with and maybe all parts of it would just disappear as well. He felt like it was some kind of hellish post-summer camp experience, when you just didn't hold on to the friends you made away from home. He remembered Afghanistan and how many guys he was still close with (one). Nate had faith in Mike and him, but he just didn't know what to think (or do, or feel) about Brad.
It was a relief, to still be able to talk with Brad. To some degree, he felt that way every time they talked on the phone when Brad was away, joy and relief that he called again and that they were still in tune with each other, still able to get each other, while at the same time slowly but surely moving away from rank differences and power imbalance. But it took meeting Brad again in person and talking with him in slightly hushed voices in Mike's kitchen for over two hours for Nate to fully believe that.
But Brad wasn't an open book, to put it mildly, and it took Nate almost three years to understand his own feelings, and he wasn't exactly sober right now, so he probably shouldn't. He probably should just be happy they could be friends.
"Hey, Nate." Brad's fingers stroked his hand just to get his attention, Nate was sure, but it didn't change the fact that his heart started beating faster. "What are you thinking about?"
And he should just lie. Nothing wrong about it, just a simple little lie, simple 'I'm not telling you I'm in love with you'. He was going to lie.
He didn't.
"I think about the fact that kissing you will probably ruin our relationship."
He was probably more drunk than he'd thought, but still sober enough to be scared out of his fucking mind. He lasted ten seconds of silence and stood up, only to be stopped by Brad standing up as well and blocking his way.
"It depends on what our relationship is going to be," Brad said, trying for calm and collected, but Nate heard the nervous tension, he could feel it between them.
"I know what I would like it to be," Nate said quietly, his hand twitching to reach out and touch, but not now, not now, maybe never, if it went wrong, "but I'm good with friendship, too. I just don't want to... It will be whatever we both want it to be."
"Okay," Brad whispered and put his hand on Nate's neck, bringing him closer. "Okay," he said and kissed him.
.
If only it was so easy.
.
They left Mike's house at dawn, leaving a note about Brad teaching Nate how to surf, and went to Brad's motel room.
When they started kissing, Nate's hands wandered to Brad's head, as if to hold on to him, to keep him where he was. But his hair was too short to have a grip on it and Nate ended up leaving marks on the back of Brad's neck with his nails. Brad's hands were on Nate's hips, pulling him closer and closer, as if there was any more way to go after being molded into each other, their bodies touching from ankles to foreheads.
After that it was skin on skin, kisses and touches turning desperate, both marking and being marked and whispering the need for more.
When Nate came for the first time that night, it was with Brad's fingers around his cock and his face tucked into Brad's neck, salt of Brad's skin on his tongue.
.
It will be whatever we both want it to be, Nate told Brad that first night and he meant it, wanted it to be true. It wasn't, though.
They didn't want it to be long-distance, seeing each other every couple of months, not nearly often enough. Not close enough. But Brad was back at Pendleton and Nate was in Baltimore, and there wasn't any other way.
They didn't want it filled with unasked and unanswered questions, like: What are we, what are we doing? and: You're going to leave me one day.
They (Nate) didn't want it hidden.
They (Brad) didn't know how to talk about it.
But they both wanted this relationship to work, so they adjusted and kept going. They learned how to live with the imperfections.
*
Q: I guess it wasn't easy.
A: No, it wasn't. But no relationship is easy, not really. Especially if it's long-distance, like ours was for a couple of years.
*
When Brad went back to Iraq for his next deployment, it was a nightmare.
Nate was almost living at work, coming in before everyone else and staying up long after he was supposed to go home. His dreams kept him awake, so he preferred not to go to bed at all and most of the time he fell asleep in random places in his apartment, like on the couch or on the floor next to coffee table. It was like when he got back from Iraq, only now every dream featured Brad, Brad bleeding, Brad dying, Brad blown up.
Nate had cold showers and long runs, but no one to talk to.
.
"Still alive, sir."
Breath in,
"I'm glad,"
breath out.
.
"You look like shit," Beth told him, when Nate opened the door.
"I've missed you, too," he replied, letting her in. She didn't call to say she was coming, but it wasn't anything new.
She hugged him hard, right there in the hall.
"I know something's wrong. And you will talk, I have cookies."
Nate hugged her back, putting his chin on her head, and closed his eyes. She had cookies.
.
"Brad Colbert."
"Yes." He made himself look her in the eyes. It was important.
"It's... Well, it's not really that surprising, I suppose."
"What..."
"Can I tell Mom?" she asked quickly, grinning.
"No."
"Nathaniel," she said, because yes, they were one of those families where people used full names to intimidate each other.
"Not yet. Not before he comes back."
"You moron," she said, but she wasn't playing anymore.
"He has to come back first," he repeated calmly and went to get more beer.
.
"I told my sister about the girl I'm seeing," Nate said, painfully aware of what he was and wasn't allowed to say during a phone call sponsored by the United States Marine Corps.
"And what did she say?" Brad asked just when the silence was becoming too long.
"She said, and I quote, 'it's not really that surprising'. I guess I had talked about her a few times."
Brad laughed.
"I'm glad it went well."
"Me too," Nate smiled. He wasn't worried about the guy part, his family had known about his homosexuality for years, but he was worried about the ‘guy that was under his command’ part. Nate had made peace with this, because it was in the past and a lot of things changed, but some people might see it differently. He was glad Beth didn't. "It just..." he started, remembering how lonely and tired, and terrified, he felt before she came. "It was the right time, you know?"
In that moment he would immediately reenlist, if it meant seeing Brad in the flesh, touching him right then. He tightened his grip on the phone instead.
"I know," came Brad’s soft reply.
*
Q: Even before you started your political career, you were one of the people speaking up about getting rid of DADT regulations. Was it because of your personal situation?
A: Apart from the fact that it was morally a right thing to do, yes, it was also personal. By then I was retired for years, but my partner is in the Marine Corps and I didn’t want to live a lie, I wanted to be able to tell people about us, to share it with others.
Q: But you didn't come out immediately after DADT was revoked.
A: Well, technically we had come out to our families and the closest friends before that. But yes, it took us some time to tell other people.
*
They almost broke up because of it. ‘Almost’, because Nate didn’t want to remember that one week when Brad disappeared after rather heated discussion about their future.
Nate had understood keeping things quiet when DADT was still a law. Hell, he wasn’t an overly caring and sharing type and he didn’t need constant PDAs or grand gestures. But when nearly a year after evoking DADT, he still couldn’t touch Brad anywhere even half-public without having him get tense and move away? Yes, Nate had a problem with that.
So they had the talk. Like always, Nate did most of the talking, but he was used to that by then. Brad Colbert couldn’t handle a serious conversation about anything personal that went past up to five or six sentences from his side.
Nate was used to that, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating.
“Our families know, and our friends, all the people that matters. I don’t understand why I have to tell everyone about my personal life.”
“You don’t have to tell everyone you meet. But you don’t have to hide it from them either,” Nate tried to explain.
Not to mention that even at family gatherings Brad acted more like his friend than his lover. But yeah, no PDAs.
“Not sharing doesn’t mean I’m hiding,” Brad said.
“It shouldn’t.” But I’m afraid it does, he thought.
“It doesn’t. I just don’t feel the need to talk to anyone about it,” Brad insisted.
To anyone. Nate tried for it not to hurt him. He didn’t ask what Brad did whenever someone asked. Did he tell the truth then? If yes, was it ‘I’m with Nate’ or just ‘I’m with someone’? If not, was it a lie of omission like ‘No, there’s no girlfriend’ or was it ‘I’m single’?
Nate wasn’t sure he really wanted to know. Well, okay, yes, he did, but not then, he didn’t want to piss off Brad even more. He could see him fidgeting and getting irritated already.
“What about the future, Brad? You know I want to get more involved in politics. What happens when I run for office? I won’t have paparazzi following me, but it still is a rather public life. Personal stuff come up and I don’t want to lie.”
“And I don’t want to have my sex life become some story people are going to read in papers or see on the news,” Brad’s voice got harsh and he stood up.
Nate didn’t even try to stop the hurt this time. He sat still when Brad left and he didn’t move long after the roar of Brad’s Yamaha quieted down.
It was very movie-like, all things considered.
.
The second day Brad was gone, he sent Nate a text saying ‘I need to clear my head a little. I will be back soon’. Nate appreciated it, because he really didn’t want to have to start calling people. If he called Ray, all guys from Recon would know in an hour, maybe two if they’re overseas. If he called Brad’s mother or sister, his mother and sisters would know in ten minutes.
He texted back ‘Okay’, because he didn’t feel like saying anything else.
The fourth day his mother called. It was actually three and a half days later than he suspected, he was impressed with Brad’s ninja skills at hiding. Recon Marines training or not, there weren’t a lot of things that got past their mothers.
“Nathaniel, why didn’t you tell me you and Brad had a fight?”
“Because we didn’t, Mom.” Not exactly.
“Don’t give me this bullshit, honey.” His mother wasn’t a typical mother. “I had just spoken to Eliza, she said that Brad’s in Florida. Why would he be there, instead of home?”
Nate rested his head on the desk in front of him.
“He needed to get away, see the ocean. You know how he gets when he’s in D.C. too long without a break.”
That was true, Brad loved working in Quantico, but he missed the ocean. East Coast wasn’t the same, Florida wasn’t California, but it was Brad’s substitute and escape.
“I know, but I don’t believe that’s the problem this time,” his mother said, worry evident in her tone. “Whatever it is, it’ll get better, Nate. Brad may be stupid sometimes, but he loves you. That’s obvious to anyone who have seen the two of you together.”
These last words scratched an open wound, but Nate wasn’t going to let his mother know that.
“I know he loves me, Mom.” It wasn’t a problem. No matter how much a remark about ‘sex life’ stung, Nate knew how Brad felt about him. You couldn’t have what they had without loving each other. “Don’t worry about us, Brad will be home soon.”
.
It took over a week for Brad to come back.
Nate went out for his morning run and when he got back, Brad was sitting on the couch in the living room. Nate kicked off his sneakers and watched how Brad stood up and started to come closer. He stepped closer, too, and when they were at touching distance, he kissed Brad, hard and a little painful, his right hand getting hold of Brad’s hip instead of colliding with his face.
He pulled away.
“I’m glad you’re back. But now I need a shower.”
Nate turned and went to the bathroom.
He was washing his hair when the shower door opened and Brad came in. They didn’t shower together often, but there was enough space to fit them both when they needed it.
Brad’s fingers joined his in his hair, massaging his head gently. Nate let his arms fall to his sides and closed his eyes. He went willingly when Brad maneuvered him under the spray. After a few moments he felt Brad’s hands settle on his neck, thumbs behind his ears, stroking his matching soft spots there. Nate tilted his head and opened his eyes, looking at Brad. His skin was darker than when he left; Florida’s sun clearly did its magic. Nate wondered how the ocean looked, but he didn’t want to ask.
Brad kissed him gently and all remains of anger slowly slipped away from Nate. He felt himself relax, shoulders losing the tension they carried for a week. He moved his lips to Brad’s neck and collarbone, hiding his face there for a moment.
.
“I won’t lie about you and me to anyone ever again,” Brad said, later, when they were lying in their bed. “I promise you, Nate.”
Nate kissed his shoulder and smiled.
*
Q: It took some time, but now not only you're out as a couple, you're also married.
A: Yes, we are. [Smiles.]
Q: For how long?
A: Nine years.
Q: Big anniversary next year!
A: [Laughs.] Yes, that's true. But on the other hand, last year we had the fifteenth anniversary of being together, so... numbers are getting mixed up.
*
"Hello?"
"Everything alright?" Nate closed his eyes for a moment and let his head fall back on the couch. Mike had this freaky ability to recognize his mood from one word.
"Everything's fine. Just, you know, stupid people at work."
"I know, I was right there with you, learning a lot about it during OIF. And then you had to go into politics, as if you didn't have enough of the stupidity there."
"I'm a masochist."
"Clearly, I'm not going to argue that one," Mike deadpanned. "So, what was it?"
It was stupid, really.
"There's this guy, Stevenson, who decided that if I'm not married, I don't have a chance to become a senator," Nate said. "He made it very clear that me being gay is difficult enough, me being gay and in an informal relationship..."
"Does he know that you've been in the same 'informal relationship' for what, seven years now?"
"Apparently it doesn't matter to him. But fuck him, I don't care what he thinks..."
"Clearly." Mike wasn't his Gunnery Seargant for years now, but he never stopped to call him on his bullshit, when Nate needed it. And when he didn't.
"...I wouldn't be the first gay senator without a husband. Not so long ago they wouldn't even allow us to get married. Now the fact that I didn't is a problem."
"For whom?" Mike asked and Nate wondered if he was even listening to him.
"According to Stevenson, for the Republican party."
"Stupid people are the fact of life. The problem of the Republican party is the number of them in the party. It's not your problem. You want me to tell you what your problem is, Nate?”
No.
"Sure, why not."
"The real problem here is that you want to get married."
Nate closed his eyes.
"Mike."
"Don't tell me it's not true. You always looked like the marrying type to me."
Nate didn't say that it was probably before he knew Nate was gay. It wasn't supposed to change anything and it would be unfair to Mike.
"I'm not asking him to marry me to become more politically correct, Mike."
"Do you want to marry him?"
Mike was a pain in the ass.
"I want to be with him for the rest of our lives, married or not."
"That doesn't answer my question. Do you want to marry him, Nate?"
Nate sighed.
"I won't ask him. I hadn't asked him before, now it would look like political game."
"He knows you better than that." Idiot was definitely implied, but it was implied half the time Mike talked to him anyway.
"I won't ask him."
He could almost see Mike rolling his eyes at him.
"Do I really have to play marriage counselor here? He would say yes."
"You don't know that for sure."
"Yes, I do. Why don't you?"
Nate was silent for a long moment.
"He didn't say anything."
"And you were so forthcoming."
"I know. It's just..."
"You are basically married already. You've been together for years and that's not going to change."
Nate opened his mouth to answer when he heard the movement. He turned and saw Brad standing in the doorway, with his arms crossed and his eyes looking straight at him.
"I need to go, Mike. Brad's home," Nate said and closed his phone.
They were both silent for a minute. Nate didn't even know what to say. He didn't know how much Brad had heard.
"Yes, it would be the right move for your career. So what? That's the reason we shouldn't do it? It's insane," Brad said, coming into the room. They did this sometimes, they would start in the middle of a conversation and just go from there.
"I don't want it to be a game, Brad," said Nate, getting up from the couch. His voice was tired, like they’d discussed it many times, not for the first time.
"I know you don't. Neither do I. If this was the only reason. But it's not."
They stood in front of each other, almost touching. Nate's fingers were half-way towards Brad's hip, before Nate stopped himself, suddenly unsure.
"Do you want to get married?" Brad asked.
"I think it's the best way to ensure all the rights we can get" was the first stupid thing Nate came up with.
"How romantic."
Nate looked at Brad and hoped that their talking-without-talking thing worked this time, too. You already know how I feel about you. You already know my reasons.
Apparently it worked just fine, because Brad put his hand on Nate's neck and pulled him closer.
"We both want it, but neither one of us would ask, if there wasn't any other reason to say anything. Is this what's happening here?"
"Maybe," Nate breathed into Brad's mouth.
"We're crazy." Brad ran his tongue on Nate's lower lip.
"And stupid." Nate licked into Brad's mouth, his fingers on Brad's hips.
They kissed slowly for a minute and when they parted, Brad asked:
"So, are we doing this?"
"This is how you propose? Really? How romantic." Nate's hands were on Brad's back, stroking slowly. He was grinning.
"Hey, you were the one that came up with the idea, Fick. You should propose." Brad was whispering with his mouth touching Nate's. "Not that the answer will surprise you, really."
Brad was right, Nate knew that. But that didn't stop him from being nervous and it took a moment before he was sure his voice would work without a hitch.
Brad's eyes were dark blue and expectant.
"Would you marry me?"
Brad's fingers were touching Nate's ears, tips stroking slowly, when he said "yes" and kissed Nate again. Nate hid his head for a moment against Brad's neck, breathing in.
"So," said Brad after a while, "are you calling your mother or should I?"
.
"In the interest of full disclosure - I wouldn't say yes if I knew what's going to happen," said Brad, coming behind Nate, who was looking through the window. Outside there were over seventy people waiting for them to get married.
"Liar," Nate laughed and turned around. He wondered briefly if the sight of Brad in uniform would ever not make his heart beat a little faster, but he decided that it was unlikely. He stroked Brad's sides and drew him closer for a kiss.
Brad smiled.
"Well, you make a valid point," he said and kissed Nate again. "But I'm not sure it's enough to survive the next couple of hours, you know. There's Ray who will probably hump Walt's leg, although hopefully after the ceremony, not in the middle of it. There are our mothers who will most definitely cry, again, during and after, and maybe even tomorrow as well, because it's so beautiful..."
Nate smacked him in the head.
"Please don't impersonate my mother ever again."
"Or at least until you say yes. After that, everything is allowed."
"I think we should talk more before the ceremony, you know. Make sure we understand each other." Nate started to move away, but Brad just tightened his hold.
"Oh no, it's too late now."
"Is it? Because I didn't make any vows yet."
"But you paid for my ring. You don't want to lose that money."
"Well," Nate pretended to consider that. "The economy isn't so good, I guess I should try to hold on to my investments."
"Exactly."
They grinned at each other and Nate wouldn't tell anybody this, ever, but when Brad smiled at him like that, Nate felt... Well, Nate was a pretty confident man and he knew what he was capable of, but when Brad smiled at him like that, he felt like he could do more and be more. And yes, Nate was aware how that sounded, thank you very much. There was a reason he wasn't going to tell anybody about this.
They were about to kiss, when they heard his mother coming in.
"Boys... oh," she stopped in the doorway and looked at them adoringly. Nate remembered the time when his mother wasn't tearing up every time she saw them, but that was before they told her they wanted to get married. He really hoped it would end after they did it, because that would be difficult otherwise.
Brad stood with his back to her, so he could roll eyes freely. Nate bit his lip not to laugh.
"It's time, boys."
Brad raised his eyebrows at Nate, question in his eyes. Nate shook his head and smiled.
"We're going, Mom."
*
Q: Do you think we will ever see an openly gay person becoming the President of the United States?
A: Are you fishing for an answer if I’m going to run? [Smiles.] In our lifetimes we have seen the first black person and the first woman to become president. I really hope we’ll get the chance to see an openly gay person in the White House, too.
Q: Is this going to be you, Senator?
A: [Laughs.] Next question, please.
PART TWO (A)
All we gotta do is be brave and be kind (baby, we'll be fine)
Part One
Q: The anniversary of ending the war in Iraq is coming up next week. You were there early on, in 2003. How do you feel about your experiences now, after so many years?
A: I’ve stopped questioning myself a long time ago. At first I was constantly second-guessing myself. ‘If this is what I should have done’, ‘What would happen if’. There were a lot of ‘if’s and ‘what about’s. In the end, my whole platoon came back home. That’s what matters the most to me. That's what makes me proud. [Pause.] Truth is, there’s no simple answer to your question. On one hand, there are some things you can never forget. On the other, after Iraq, nothing in the Senate can scare me that much. [Laughs a little.]
*
If a night was particularly bad, Nate would say that nights were the worst. There had to be a limit to how often a man could watch his men getting shot, bombed or crucified, or young children being mutilated and left for dead or shot in close range by his gun, by his hand. There had to be a limit of sleepless hours, waking up in sweat-soaked cold sheets or never even falling asleep at all, just lying there. Just lying there, like in a grave. Sometimes he'd wish that he was back there, where the noises ringing in his ears could be easily explained and where he was so tired that when he could rest, when he allowed himself to do so, he just lay down and immediately fell asleep.
Sometimes he wished he never went there in the first place.
But then a day would come and really, that was just so much worse. Driving a car was a nightmare. A few weeks spent in Iraq erased almost ten years of his experience behind the wheel. There was glass in the windows and air-conditioning. He could see hundreds of cars around, but not one of them was a humvee. There was a radio, but there were no reports. There was life outside, but one day he spent two hours sitting in the car in the parking lot outside of KFC, because he couldn't stop the images of ruined Nasiriyah.
Sometimes he didn't leave his apartment all day and watched TV on mute or too loud. He waited for the sun to go down and then he would go for a run. He knew every block, every building; if asked, he could probably tell how many windows there were in every one of them.
Every time he went to the bathroom, he spent a couple of minutes just looking at his face. Resolving things. Looking for things.
*
Q: Your partner is in the Marine Corps and you were serving together in Iraq. He was in your platoon, under your command. There were some rumors back when your campaign for a Senate seat started...
A: Yes. They weren't true. I'm sure you're aware that there was a formal investigation and we were found innocent. The truth was that while we did meet when I was Brad's commanding officer, our relationship started more than two years after I retired from the Marine Corps. There was no fraternization and certainly nothing that could dishonor either one of us or put us or any Marine we served with at risk of any kind. I deeply cared, still care, for every Marine I've ever had under my command. The bond that's forged between marines, or soldiers of any other branch, is not a myth. It's respect, mutual responsibility, understanding and a few other things we would prefer not to name. So we're all using probably the closest thing that can explain it: a brotherhood.
Q: Brothers in arms?
A: Yes, exactly. As a commanding officer, I didn't have the same relationship with the men in my platoon as they had among themselves. There's always a line between the command and the people following orders. But I think we did alright. [Smiles.]
*
The paddle party at Mike's had been going on for at least four hours already when Nate finished off his second beer. He was definitely too sober for most of the other guys, but this party was one of those things that he felt he had to get through sober because he would embarrass himself otherwise.
Not that he would tell anybody this, obviously.
He had one beer in him when they gave him the paddle and he still almost cried then and there. Fortunately, Ray Person thought it would be a great idea to start stripping right after. Half of the guys started to record it, the other half just went to get more alcohol and Nate had a moment to close his eyes and breathe.
He didn't want to think about tomorrow, about Monday, about next week. This party was the last time all those guys would be his. No matter what he felt, they wouldn't be his the next time they see each other.
They told him their stories. The first training session, working together on their humvees in Camp Mathilda, the cover up of the espresso maker fiasco, directing traffic in the ambush outside Muwaffaqiya, rapping competitions in the command vehicle, standing up to You-Know-Who (and of course the joke about Voldemort came right after, but Ray's delivery made it funny), letting Stafford stay with the platoon after he got shot... It went on and on, and Nate was collecting those good stories as they spoke.
Now he was thinking about his own.
Lying in his grave and listening to Poke telling Reporter about his wife and kids and to Reporter's tales from his former marriage. They were on the route to Baghdad and Nate was tired beyond words, but still couldn't sleep, and somehow those stories helped.
Ray's rants about the future of the world, which were brilliant, but couldn't be shared with civilians. After stripping them of all the pussy and the insults towards pretty much everyone and everything, it just wouldn't be the same.
Brad running in the grass, flying with his arms outstretched, looking almost like an innocent kid that he wasn't.
Mike always being next to him, making him feel a little less alone, pissed off or helpless.
Speaking of whom.
"You alright?" Mike asked and handed him another beer. He sat on the patio chair next to Nate.
"I'm fine," he said, looking at the group sitting around the grill.
Some of the guys were staying in the Corps, a couple of them were transferring and a couple were leaving for good. Nate was proud of all of them, of what they did, but couldn't help being happy for every one who decided to retire. Fuck, maybe in the end he wasn't a good officer, worrying about his guys too much, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't protect them anymore. And he knew it was a stupid thought, really, because his job was never to protect them, not to mention he wasn't the only one or even the best one to lead them. He wasn't irreplaceable.
Still, the picture of them sitting like this, in t-shirts and jeans or khakis, looking both similar and not at all like how they were in Iraq, made him feel like he was suffocating.
*
Q: And after you retired, you began a relationship with one of them.
A: No. After I retired, I came back to college and Brad left the country for two years on an exchange program with the Royal Marines. We talked sometimes and became friends. And then it went like most friends-turn-partners stories, I suppose. [Smiles.] We decided we wanted more than friendship.
*
Nate learned how to not be gay in the Marine Corp as quickly as he did almost anything else. It wasn't that hard, really. You could be so good that nobody would think of asking, whether in fear of getting the answer (they really couldn't afford to lose any more people than they already did, but that insight would come up years later) or with stupid belief that anybody that good couldn't be gay. You could talk a lot about your past girlfriend (and not even lie about her, in Nate's case) or about pussy in general. You could not mention cock at all or you could talk about it a lot, depending which one meant more in establishing hetero status in any given group.
You just dropped the gay part of you, the same way you dropped the tired part, the lazy part, the I-don't-know-what-M-16-can-do-to-a-person part. Some of those parts you could get back when you left. Others you forgot you had ever had.
And apparently, in combat different emotions could sometimes blur together and become unrecognizable or hidden. You didn't see desire, because you thought of trust, of mutual understanding that brought you closer to someone. You explained to yourself that the need to be close was the need to rely on someone, to not go crazy with incompetence and stupidity, and with fear of losing people because of that. You took comfort the best way you could, the best way that was allowed to the Marine Corps officer.
It hadn't been until Nate was back home that he started to see that wasn't all there was. It hadn't been until Brad left for England that Nate started to understand.
.
There were months when they didn't speak with each other at all and usually Nate didn't even miss it much. Between classes and the internship, between studying and working, there was no time for missing anything, he made sure of that.
But between those months there were several phone calls and e-mails and most of the time Nate couldn't decide if they were not enough or too much. Probably both. Still, they were enough to sustain the connection, whatever that connection might be.
.
It wasn't like Nate was meeting or even talking with other guys from his platoon regularly. Aside from Mike, who he talked to every week when they were both stateside, and Ray, who semi-regularly sent all of them crazy e-mails, the contact was rare. During his two years with the Royal Marines Brad missed only two big get-togethers, Stafford's wedding and Mike's I Let You Into My House, But You Better Behave and Clean Up After Yourself Before My Wife and Kids Return party.
So although Brad was the one Nate hadn't seen for the longest time, he wasn't the only one Nate missed. Still, Nate had two years to think and to sort out his feelings, and he knew very well that no matter what, he would always feel differently about Brad.
.
They were sitting in Mike's kitchen, in the exact same place as two and a half years ago, just after Nate's paddle party. It was again the middle of the night, around four a.m. and most of the other guys were either sleeping somewhere or, like in Christeson's case, lying unconscious on the patio chair.
There were new pictures and drawings on the fridge and new shelves above the table. The chairs were still as uncomfortable as the last time, yet they were still sitting on them, over two hours after they came to get the beers.
It was a relief, to still be able to talk with Brad after their lives drifted apart so much. At the paddle party Brad's two years abroad seemed like forever and Nate’s retirement actually was forever. He remembered how he felt then that maybe it's stupid to try to hold on to something that was in the past already. The most significant year of his life over and done with and maybe all parts of it would just disappear as well. He felt like it was some kind of hellish post-summer camp experience, when you just didn't hold on to the friends you made away from home. He remembered Afghanistan and how many guys he was still close with (one). Nate had faith in Mike and him, but he just didn't know what to think (or do, or feel) about Brad.
It was a relief, to still be able to talk with Brad. To some degree, he felt that way every time they talked on the phone when Brad was away, joy and relief that he called again and that they were still in tune with each other, still able to get each other, while at the same time slowly but surely moving away from rank differences and power imbalance. But it took meeting Brad again in person and talking with him in slightly hushed voices in Mike's kitchen for over two hours for Nate to fully believe that.
But Brad wasn't an open book, to put it mildly, and it took Nate almost three years to understand his own feelings, and he wasn't exactly sober right now, so he probably shouldn't. He probably should just be happy they could be friends.
"Hey, Nate." Brad's fingers stroked his hand just to get his attention, Nate was sure, but it didn't change the fact that his heart started beating faster. "What are you thinking about?"
And he should just lie. Nothing wrong about it, just a simple little lie, simple 'I'm not telling you I'm in love with you'. He was going to lie.
He didn't.
"I think about the fact that kissing you will probably ruin our relationship."
He was probably more drunk than he'd thought, but still sober enough to be scared out of his fucking mind. He lasted ten seconds of silence and stood up, only to be stopped by Brad standing up as well and blocking his way.
"It depends on what our relationship is going to be," Brad said, trying for calm and collected, but Nate heard the nervous tension, he could feel it between them.
"I know what I would like it to be," Nate said quietly, his hand twitching to reach out and touch, but not now, not now, maybe never, if it went wrong, "but I'm good with friendship, too. I just don't want to... It will be whatever we both want it to be."
"Okay," Brad whispered and put his hand on Nate's neck, bringing him closer. "Okay," he said and kissed him.
.
If only it was so easy.
.
They left Mike's house at dawn, leaving a note about Brad teaching Nate how to surf, and went to Brad's motel room.
When they started kissing, Nate's hands wandered to Brad's head, as if to hold on to him, to keep him where he was. But his hair was too short to have a grip on it and Nate ended up leaving marks on the back of Brad's neck with his nails. Brad's hands were on Nate's hips, pulling him closer and closer, as if there was any more way to go after being molded into each other, their bodies touching from ankles to foreheads.
After that it was skin on skin, kisses and touches turning desperate, both marking and being marked and whispering the need for more.
When Nate came for the first time that night, it was with Brad's fingers around his cock and his face tucked into Brad's neck, salt of Brad's skin on his tongue.
.
It will be whatever we both want it to be, Nate told Brad that first night and he meant it, wanted it to be true. It wasn't, though.
They didn't want it to be long-distance, seeing each other every couple of months, not nearly often enough. Not close enough. But Brad was back at Pendleton and Nate was in Baltimore, and there wasn't any other way.
They didn't want it filled with unasked and unanswered questions, like: What are we, what are we doing? and: You're going to leave me one day.
They (Nate) didn't want it hidden.
They (Brad) didn't know how to talk about it.
But they both wanted this relationship to work, so they adjusted and kept going. They learned how to live with the imperfections.
*
Q: I guess it wasn't easy.
A: No, it wasn't. But no relationship is easy, not really. Especially if it's long-distance, like ours was for a couple of years.
*
When Brad went back to Iraq for his next deployment, it was a nightmare.
Nate was almost living at work, coming in before everyone else and staying up long after he was supposed to go home. His dreams kept him awake, so he preferred not to go to bed at all and most of the time he fell asleep in random places in his apartment, like on the couch or on the floor next to coffee table. It was like when he got back from Iraq, only now every dream featured Brad, Brad bleeding, Brad dying, Brad blown up.
Nate had cold showers and long runs, but no one to talk to.
.
"Still alive, sir."
Breath in,
"I'm glad,"
breath out.
.
"You look like shit," Beth told him, when Nate opened the door.
"I've missed you, too," he replied, letting her in. She didn't call to say she was coming, but it wasn't anything new.
She hugged him hard, right there in the hall.
"I know something's wrong. And you will talk, I have cookies."
Nate hugged her back, putting his chin on her head, and closed his eyes. She had cookies.
.
"Brad Colbert."
"Yes." He made himself look her in the eyes. It was important.
"It's... Well, it's not really that surprising, I suppose."
"What..."
"Can I tell Mom?" she asked quickly, grinning.
"No."
"Nathaniel," she said, because yes, they were one of those families where people used full names to intimidate each other.
"Not yet. Not before he comes back."
"You moron," she said, but she wasn't playing anymore.
"He has to come back first," he repeated calmly and went to get more beer.
.
"I told my sister about the girl I'm seeing," Nate said, painfully aware of what he was and wasn't allowed to say during a phone call sponsored by the United States Marine Corps.
"And what did she say?" Brad asked just when the silence was becoming too long.
"She said, and I quote, 'it's not really that surprising'. I guess I had talked about her a few times."
Brad laughed.
"I'm glad it went well."
"Me too," Nate smiled. He wasn't worried about the guy part, his family had known about his homosexuality for years, but he was worried about the ‘guy that was under his command’ part. Nate had made peace with this, because it was in the past and a lot of things changed, but some people might see it differently. He was glad Beth didn't. "It just..." he started, remembering how lonely and tired, and terrified, he felt before she came. "It was the right time, you know?"
In that moment he would immediately reenlist, if it meant seeing Brad in the flesh, touching him right then. He tightened his grip on the phone instead.
"I know," came Brad’s soft reply.
*
Q: Even before you started your political career, you were one of the people speaking up about getting rid of DADT regulations. Was it because of your personal situation?
A: Apart from the fact that it was morally a right thing to do, yes, it was also personal. By then I was retired for years, but my partner is in the Marine Corps and I didn’t want to live a lie, I wanted to be able to tell people about us, to share it with others.
Q: But you didn't come out immediately after DADT was revoked.
A: Well, technically we had come out to our families and the closest friends before that. But yes, it took us some time to tell other people.
*
They almost broke up because of it. ‘Almost’, because Nate didn’t want to remember that one week when Brad disappeared after rather heated discussion about their future.
Nate had understood keeping things quiet when DADT was still a law. Hell, he wasn’t an overly caring and sharing type and he didn’t need constant PDAs or grand gestures. But when nearly a year after evoking DADT, he still couldn’t touch Brad anywhere even half-public without having him get tense and move away? Yes, Nate had a problem with that.
So they had the talk. Like always, Nate did most of the talking, but he was used to that by then. Brad Colbert couldn’t handle a serious conversation about anything personal that went past up to five or six sentences from his side.
Nate was used to that, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating.
“Our families know, and our friends, all the people that matters. I don’t understand why I have to tell everyone about my personal life.”
“You don’t have to tell everyone you meet. But you don’t have to hide it from them either,” Nate tried to explain.
Not to mention that even at family gatherings Brad acted more like his friend than his lover. But yeah, no PDAs.
“Not sharing doesn’t mean I’m hiding,” Brad said.
“It shouldn’t.” But I’m afraid it does, he thought.
“It doesn’t. I just don’t feel the need to talk to anyone about it,” Brad insisted.
To anyone. Nate tried for it not to hurt him. He didn’t ask what Brad did whenever someone asked. Did he tell the truth then? If yes, was it ‘I’m with Nate’ or just ‘I’m with someone’? If not, was it a lie of omission like ‘No, there’s no girlfriend’ or was it ‘I’m single’?
Nate wasn’t sure he really wanted to know. Well, okay, yes, he did, but not then, he didn’t want to piss off Brad even more. He could see him fidgeting and getting irritated already.
“What about the future, Brad? You know I want to get more involved in politics. What happens when I run for office? I won’t have paparazzi following me, but it still is a rather public life. Personal stuff come up and I don’t want to lie.”
“And I don’t want to have my sex life become some story people are going to read in papers or see on the news,” Brad’s voice got harsh and he stood up.
Nate didn’t even try to stop the hurt this time. He sat still when Brad left and he didn’t move long after the roar of Brad’s Yamaha quieted down.
It was very movie-like, all things considered.
.
The second day Brad was gone, he sent Nate a text saying ‘I need to clear my head a little. I will be back soon’. Nate appreciated it, because he really didn’t want to have to start calling people. If he called Ray, all guys from Recon would know in an hour, maybe two if they’re overseas. If he called Brad’s mother or sister, his mother and sisters would know in ten minutes.
He texted back ‘Okay’, because he didn’t feel like saying anything else.
The fourth day his mother called. It was actually three and a half days later than he suspected, he was impressed with Brad’s ninja skills at hiding. Recon Marines training or not, there weren’t a lot of things that got past their mothers.
“Nathaniel, why didn’t you tell me you and Brad had a fight?”
“Because we didn’t, Mom.” Not exactly.
“Don’t give me this bullshit, honey.” His mother wasn’t a typical mother. “I had just spoken to Eliza, she said that Brad’s in Florida. Why would he be there, instead of home?”
Nate rested his head on the desk in front of him.
“He needed to get away, see the ocean. You know how he gets when he’s in D.C. too long without a break.”
That was true, Brad loved working in Quantico, but he missed the ocean. East Coast wasn’t the same, Florida wasn’t California, but it was Brad’s substitute and escape.
“I know, but I don’t believe that’s the problem this time,” his mother said, worry evident in her tone. “Whatever it is, it’ll get better, Nate. Brad may be stupid sometimes, but he loves you. That’s obvious to anyone who have seen the two of you together.”
These last words scratched an open wound, but Nate wasn’t going to let his mother know that.
“I know he loves me, Mom.” It wasn’t a problem. No matter how much a remark about ‘sex life’ stung, Nate knew how Brad felt about him. You couldn’t have what they had without loving each other. “Don’t worry about us, Brad will be home soon.”
.
It took over a week for Brad to come back.
Nate went out for his morning run and when he got back, Brad was sitting on the couch in the living room. Nate kicked off his sneakers and watched how Brad stood up and started to come closer. He stepped closer, too, and when they were at touching distance, he kissed Brad, hard and a little painful, his right hand getting hold of Brad’s hip instead of colliding with his face.
He pulled away.
“I’m glad you’re back. But now I need a shower.”
Nate turned and went to the bathroom.
He was washing his hair when the shower door opened and Brad came in. They didn’t shower together often, but there was enough space to fit them both when they needed it.
Brad’s fingers joined his in his hair, massaging his head gently. Nate let his arms fall to his sides and closed his eyes. He went willingly when Brad maneuvered him under the spray. After a few moments he felt Brad’s hands settle on his neck, thumbs behind his ears, stroking his matching soft spots there. Nate tilted his head and opened his eyes, looking at Brad. His skin was darker than when he left; Florida’s sun clearly did its magic. Nate wondered how the ocean looked, but he didn’t want to ask.
Brad kissed him gently and all remains of anger slowly slipped away from Nate. He felt himself relax, shoulders losing the tension they carried for a week. He moved his lips to Brad’s neck and collarbone, hiding his face there for a moment.
.
“I won’t lie about you and me to anyone ever again,” Brad said, later, when they were lying in their bed. “I promise you, Nate.”
Nate kissed his shoulder and smiled.
*
Q: It took some time, but now not only you're out as a couple, you're also married.
A: Yes, we are. [Smiles.]
Q: For how long?
A: Nine years.
Q: Big anniversary next year!
A: [Laughs.] Yes, that's true. But on the other hand, last year we had the fifteenth anniversary of being together, so... numbers are getting mixed up.
*
"Hello?"
"Everything alright?" Nate closed his eyes for a moment and let his head fall back on the couch. Mike had this freaky ability to recognize his mood from one word.
"Everything's fine. Just, you know, stupid people at work."
"I know, I was right there with you, learning a lot about it during OIF. And then you had to go into politics, as if you didn't have enough of the stupidity there."
"I'm a masochist."
"Clearly, I'm not going to argue that one," Mike deadpanned. "So, what was it?"
It was stupid, really.
"There's this guy, Stevenson, who decided that if I'm not married, I don't have a chance to become a senator," Nate said. "He made it very clear that me being gay is difficult enough, me being gay and in an informal relationship..."
"Does he know that you've been in the same 'informal relationship' for what, seven years now?"
"Apparently it doesn't matter to him. But fuck him, I don't care what he thinks..."
"Clearly." Mike wasn't his Gunnery Seargant for years now, but he never stopped to call him on his bullshit, when Nate needed it. And when he didn't.
"...I wouldn't be the first gay senator without a husband. Not so long ago they wouldn't even allow us to get married. Now the fact that I didn't is a problem."
"For whom?" Mike asked and Nate wondered if he was even listening to him.
"According to Stevenson, for the Republican party."
"Stupid people are the fact of life. The problem of the Republican party is the number of them in the party. It's not your problem. You want me to tell you what your problem is, Nate?”
No.
"Sure, why not."
"The real problem here is that you want to get married."
Nate closed his eyes.
"Mike."
"Don't tell me it's not true. You always looked like the marrying type to me."
Nate didn't say that it was probably before he knew Nate was gay. It wasn't supposed to change anything and it would be unfair to Mike.
"I'm not asking him to marry me to become more politically correct, Mike."
"Do you want to marry him?"
Mike was a pain in the ass.
"I want to be with him for the rest of our lives, married or not."
"That doesn't answer my question. Do you want to marry him, Nate?"
Nate sighed.
"I won't ask him. I hadn't asked him before, now it would look like political game."
"He knows you better than that." Idiot was definitely implied, but it was implied half the time Mike talked to him anyway.
"I won't ask him."
He could almost see Mike rolling his eyes at him.
"Do I really have to play marriage counselor here? He would say yes."
"You don't know that for sure."
"Yes, I do. Why don't you?"
Nate was silent for a long moment.
"He didn't say anything."
"And you were so forthcoming."
"I know. It's just..."
"You are basically married already. You've been together for years and that's not going to change."
Nate opened his mouth to answer when he heard the movement. He turned and saw Brad standing in the doorway, with his arms crossed and his eyes looking straight at him.
"I need to go, Mike. Brad's home," Nate said and closed his phone.
They were both silent for a minute. Nate didn't even know what to say. He didn't know how much Brad had heard.
"Yes, it would be the right move for your career. So what? That's the reason we shouldn't do it? It's insane," Brad said, coming into the room. They did this sometimes, they would start in the middle of a conversation and just go from there.
"I don't want it to be a game, Brad," said Nate, getting up from the couch. His voice was tired, like they’d discussed it many times, not for the first time.
"I know you don't. Neither do I. If this was the only reason. But it's not."
They stood in front of each other, almost touching. Nate's fingers were half-way towards Brad's hip, before Nate stopped himself, suddenly unsure.
"Do you want to get married?" Brad asked.
"I think it's the best way to ensure all the rights we can get" was the first stupid thing Nate came up with.
"How romantic."
Nate looked at Brad and hoped that their talking-without-talking thing worked this time, too. You already know how I feel about you. You already know my reasons.
Apparently it worked just fine, because Brad put his hand on Nate's neck and pulled him closer.
"We both want it, but neither one of us would ask, if there wasn't any other reason to say anything. Is this what's happening here?"
"Maybe," Nate breathed into Brad's mouth.
"We're crazy." Brad ran his tongue on Nate's lower lip.
"And stupid." Nate licked into Brad's mouth, his fingers on Brad's hips.
They kissed slowly for a minute and when they parted, Brad asked:
"So, are we doing this?"
"This is how you propose? Really? How romantic." Nate's hands were on Brad's back, stroking slowly. He was grinning.
"Hey, you were the one that came up with the idea, Fick. You should propose." Brad was whispering with his mouth touching Nate's. "Not that the answer will surprise you, really."
Brad was right, Nate knew that. But that didn't stop him from being nervous and it took a moment before he was sure his voice would work without a hitch.
Brad's eyes were dark blue and expectant.
"Would you marry me?"
Brad's fingers were touching Nate's ears, tips stroking slowly, when he said "yes" and kissed Nate again. Nate hid his head for a moment against Brad's neck, breathing in.
"So," said Brad after a while, "are you calling your mother or should I?"
.
"In the interest of full disclosure - I wouldn't say yes if I knew what's going to happen," said Brad, coming behind Nate, who was looking through the window. Outside there were over seventy people waiting for them to get married.
"Liar," Nate laughed and turned around. He wondered briefly if the sight of Brad in uniform would ever not make his heart beat a little faster, but he decided that it was unlikely. He stroked Brad's sides and drew him closer for a kiss.
Brad smiled.
"Well, you make a valid point," he said and kissed Nate again. "But I'm not sure it's enough to survive the next couple of hours, you know. There's Ray who will probably hump Walt's leg, although hopefully after the ceremony, not in the middle of it. There are our mothers who will most definitely cry, again, during and after, and maybe even tomorrow as well, because it's so beautiful..."
Nate smacked him in the head.
"Please don't impersonate my mother ever again."
"Or at least until you say yes. After that, everything is allowed."
"I think we should talk more before the ceremony, you know. Make sure we understand each other." Nate started to move away, but Brad just tightened his hold.
"Oh no, it's too late now."
"Is it? Because I didn't make any vows yet."
"But you paid for my ring. You don't want to lose that money."
"Well," Nate pretended to consider that. "The economy isn't so good, I guess I should try to hold on to my investments."
"Exactly."
They grinned at each other and Nate wouldn't tell anybody this, ever, but when Brad smiled at him like that, Nate felt... Well, Nate was a pretty confident man and he knew what he was capable of, but when Brad smiled at him like that, he felt like he could do more and be more. And yes, Nate was aware how that sounded, thank you very much. There was a reason he wasn't going to tell anybody about this.
They were about to kiss, when they heard his mother coming in.
"Boys... oh," she stopped in the doorway and looked at them adoringly. Nate remembered the time when his mother wasn't tearing up every time she saw them, but that was before they told her they wanted to get married. He really hoped it would end after they did it, because that would be difficult otherwise.
Brad stood with his back to her, so he could roll eyes freely. Nate bit his lip not to laugh.
"It's time, boys."
Brad raised his eyebrows at Nate, question in his eyes. Nate shook his head and smiled.
"We're going, Mom."
*
Q: Do you think we will ever see an openly gay person becoming the President of the United States?
A: Are you fishing for an answer if I’m going to run? [Smiles.] In our lifetimes we have seen the first black person and the first woman to become president. I really hope we’ll get the chance to see an openly gay person in the White House, too.
Q: Is this going to be you, Senator?
A: [Laughs.] Next question, please.
PART TWO (A)