Bailey grinned. "Yes, sir."
"You skipped chow again," Bailey said, leaning against the doorframe of the conex box they shared. His ACU top was unbuttoned, revealing a gray t-shirt underneath. A medic’s patch was sewn over his heart. "I brought you an MRE. Chili Mac. Your favorite." Active Duty - Hunter and Bailey -Gay-
Bailey set the MRE down and turned to face him fully. In the dim red light of the tent, his eyes looked almost golden. "I’m a medic. Worrying about you is literally my job. But this?" He reached out and placed a hand over Hunter’s clenched fist. "This isn’t the job." Bailey grinned
Then Hunter moved. Not fast, not reckless—but deliberate. He cupped the back of Bailey’s neck with his scarred hand and pulled him in. The kiss was chaste at first, a question. Then Bailey answered, lips parting, hand gripping Hunter’s thigh for balance. It was desperate and tender all at once—two men who had seen too much death finally holding onto something alive. A medic’s patch was sewn over his heart
"Liar." Bailey crossed the small space and sat on the cot beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed. "You’ve been pulling twelve-hour patrols and sleeping four hours a night. You’re not a machine, Hunter."
Active Duty: The Distance Between Us