《Front Sight》 Locked and Loaded. Grafenwoeher, Germany August 19th, 2013 1300 hrs The airport terminal buzzed with activity as Nixon Cannard stood by the baggage claim, waiting anxiously for his sponsor to pick him up. It had been a long 24 hours of travel, he had been scheduled for a flight with numerous layovers, and he was exhausted and sweaty. The man brushed his loose dark locks from his eyes, and he just knew that his deep brown eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion. He glanced at his watch, feeling a twinge of impatience as the minutes ticked by. He had been waiting at the baggage claim for awhile, his sponsor had said that he was on the way but... Man his patience was running out. Nixon tapped eagerly on the handle of his suitcase, and just when he was starting to wonder if his sponsor had forgotten about him, a voice called out his name. "Staff Sergeant Cannard?" Nixon turned to see a man in uniform approaching him, a warm smile on his face. "That''s me," Nixon replied, extending his hand. The man shook it firmly. "Sergeant First Class Reynolds, at your service. I''ll be your sponsor during your time here in Germany." Reynolds was about his height and looked somewhere in his late 30¡¯s, his forehead streaked with prominent wrinkles and his bright orange mustache just slightly out of regulation. Nonetheless, it was great to finally be getting somewhere. Nixon felt a wave of relief wash over him as he followed Reynolds out of the airport and towards the parking lot. As they drove through the streets of Germany, Reynolds filled Nixon in on what to expect at his new unit, the 45th Military Police Company. "They''re a good group of guys," Reynolds said, his tone reassuring. "You''ll fit right in. Unfortunately us sergeants still have to stay in the barracks out here, but you should be fine. As long as you keep your nose outta trouble all will be well. We¡¯ll stop by the company in a bit so you can sign in, then I¡¯ll take you over to the B¡¯s so you can settle down and get acquainted with your surroundings. Sound good?¡± ¡°Roger that.¡± The car ride was mostly silent, until Reynolds spoke up once more. ¡°Where ya from, kiddo?¡± ¡°California, Sergeant.¡± ¡°No no¡­ Where¡¯s your accent from?¡± ¡°Oh!¡± Nixon said with a bit of a start. ¡°Russia. I¡¯m from Kaluga, not far from Moscow. Sorry, I don¡¯t usually get many people who ask.¡± This wasn''t an uncommon question, but the question still threw him off sometimes. When he first joined the Army, his accent was much thicker and he struggled to communicate with his peers. Half of the time, his drill sergeants belittled him due to their lack of understanding and his Russian roots being a point of contention. Nowadays, he was easily understood, though his accent still prominent. ¡°All is well! We don¡¯t get a lot of Russian speakers out here¡­ You CID?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ No.¡± Nixon cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Love to hear it. We¡¯ll get along just fine!¡± When they arrived at the unit, Nixon''s nerves returned. He stepped out of the car and glanced around, taking in the sight of soldiers going about their duties with practiced efficiency. It was the middle of the duty day and it was a busy one. Nixon followed SFC Reynolds in, where he promptly signed in, received his room keys, and was told to report at 0700 the next day for inprocessing. Reynolds agreed to show Nixon to his barracks building and as they left the building, Nixon couldn¡¯t help but look around and observe. It was a bright day, the German base could have reminded him of his home in Russia if he thought about it- Wait a damn minute. Nixon was snapped out of his thoughts by some loud, boastful laughter and when he looked in the same direction, he spotted him: Nathan Brier, leaning casually against a nearby humvee. His uniform jacket was off, which left him in just his tan t-shirt, his dirty blond hair falling in front of his face (out of regulation but it was a hot day, it didn¡¯t matter too much.) His tanned skin glistened with sweat, and Nixon watched as he took a tattooed arm to his forehead, wiping away a few drops of sweat while he chatted with some of his soldiers. Nixon''s eyes widened as Nathan seemed to catch wind of his staring, and a grin spread across Nathan''s face as he seemed to recognize Nixon as well. ¡®What the hell?¡¯ ¡°Am I dreaming? Is that you Cannard? Ha! No shit?!¡± Nathan pushed himself off the humvee and began lightly jogging over, his dog tags jingling on his pocket as he moved. ¡°Brier? No fuckin'' way!¡± Nixon''s heart skipped a beat as he made his way towards Nathan, feeling a surge of emotion at the sight of his old friend. These two had been through damn near their entire careers together, making it through Basic Combat Training, Military Police school, and even Ranger school together. They were almost in Air Assault school together but Nixon had forgotten a red pen so he got pushed back a few classes. These two have seen the best and the worst of each other, shared blood sweat and tears in the span of years. They had both gotten stationed separately for a few years, and it was pure luck that they managed to come together again. Nathan''s grin widened as they drew closer, and without a word, they fell into a tight embrace, the years of separation melting away in an instant. ¡°If it isn¡¯t my favorite commie, long time no see!" Nathan exclaimed, clapping Nixon on the back as he pulled back. "You look like you''ve been through the wringer." Nixon chuckled, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders at the familiar banter. Nixon clapped Nathan on the shoulder, his hand remaining on his bicep. "You''re not looking too shabby yourself, Brier. It''s good to see you." Nathan peeked behind Nixon at Reynolds, offering an enthusiastic wave. ¡°What¡¯s goin¡¯ on, sarn¡¯t?¡± His southern drawl strong as he said so, a bright smile wrung across his cheeks. ¡°Ahhh nothing much Brier, just escorting SSG Cannard around the unit. We were just headed to the barracks so he could drop his stuff off.¡± ¡°Drop it off?! You just gettin¡¯ here, Cannard?¡± Brier¡¯s deep blue eyes widened as he peered at Nixon¡¯s duffel bag at his side. ¡°Actually yeah, you trying to come by?¡± ¡°Shiiiii- would I! I can¡¯t though, we¡¯re about to start patrols.¡± Brier jabbed his thumb to the pack of black humvees over his shoulder, all already occupied. However, he clapped Nixon on the shoulder, his smile as bright as ever. ¡°You still got my number though, right? Text me and swing by my room later, we¡¯ll catch up! It¡¯s great to have a familiar face out here.¡± Just then, a sharp whistle sounded behind him, followed by a soldier poking his helmeted head from one of the humvee windows. ¡°Sarn¡¯t, we¡¯re starting the patrol. Waiting on you!¡± ¡°N¡¯aww shit- Okay see ya around Cannard! Hey, don¡¯t you fuckin¡¯ forget to text me.¡± Nathan began turning towards the vehicles but held his finger adamantly pointing at the dark haired male. ¡°I have the personnel rosters, I WILL FIND YOU!¡± ¡°Okay okay!¡± Nixon chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender. ¡°I¡¯ll text. Hell, I¡¯ll text you on the way there!¡± ¡°Great! Bye Cannard!!¡± And with that, Nathan turned around and jogged back over to the vehicle. Nixon watched as he snatched his jacket and helmet from the hood of the humvee, throwing them both on as he hopped in the vehicle. Nathan poked his head out one last time, ¡°Cannard! I MEAN IT!¡± ¡°OKAYY!¡± Nixon let out a loud laugh, shaking his head and turned around. Reynolds had a similar smile on his face, one that showed how accustomed he had become to Nathan¡¯s goofiness. ¡°What a kid. C¡¯mon sergeant, let''s get you settled in.¡± Nixon nodded and followed along with SFC Reynolds, his mind abuzz at the fact that he already had a close friend here. This assignment was going to be just fine. - Grafenwoeher, Germany August 19th, 2013 1400 hrs Nixon had made his way to his room, and he had to admit that it was actually pretty nice. The central common area was spacious and welcoming, serving as a shared space for socializing. The walls were painted a calming shade of light gray, and the floor was covered in polished linoleum, making the space easy to maintain. The large windows allow natural light to flood the room during the day, creating an airy and open atmosphere. Heavy-duty blinds provided the option to block out light and ensure privacy when needed. A kitchenette was situated in one corner of the common area, equipped with a fridge, microwave, and a medium sized oven and stove top. Above the kitchenette, a few cabinets provided additional storage for food, dishes, and utensils. Adjacent to the kitchenette was a small dining table with four chairs. The common area also featured a shared desk space against one wall, with two workstations and comfortable office chairs. Each desk was equipped with built-in drawers and shelves, providing ample storage for documents, electronics, and other essentials. Desk lamps ensured adequate lighting for late-night study sessions or writing letters home. Off the common area were two separate private rooms, each offering a personal retreat for its occupant. Nixon¡¯s was to the left, and it didn¡¯t look like he had a roommate. ¡®Thank goodness,¡± Nixon thought to himself. He didn¡¯t mind having a roommate, but it was wonderful to be able to have his own privacy. He was a reserved man who liked his peace, could you blame him? The walls were painted in a soothing neutral color, and the floors were covered in durable carpeting. Inside his room, a twin-sized bed with a sturdy metal frame was neatly made with standard-issue green blankets and crisp white sheets. The bed was raised off the ground, providing storage space underneath for personal belongings. A wooden nightstand beside the bed held a singular lamp.A large, double-door wardrobe in his room provided plenty of space for hanging uniforms and storing folded clothes, boots, and other essentials. The wardrobe was made of dark wood, adding a touch of warmth to the space. Each room also had its own small desk and chair, offering a private workspace separate from the common area. Overall, the room was well made and comfortable, which set Nixon¡¯s mind at ease. He made his way to his room and immediately dropped his bags, heaving a sigh as he plopped onto his bed. ¡°Finally¡­¡± He murmured to himself, flopping on his side and taking out his phone. He had a few messages, his mom and dad had both texted him as well as some buddies. He first opened his mother¡¯s message; If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. ¡°Ty sdelal eto bezopasnym, synok?¡± -Did you make it safe, son? Nixon typed out a quick response. ¡°Da, mam, spasibo, chto sprosila. YA pozvonyu tebe i pape pozzhe.¡± -Yes mom, thank you for asking. I will call you and dad later. Nixon then moved onto his father, who spoke in a similar regard. Syn moy, ya davno nichego o tebe ne slyshal. YA nadeyus'', chto vashe puteshestviye proshlo khorosho. My s tvoyey mamoy s neterpeniyem zhdem tvoyego otveta, kogda ty pribudesh'' v Germaniyu. Luchshe zastav'' nas gordit''sya. Ot tvoyego ottsa. -My son, I haven''t heard from you in a bit. I hope that your travels have been well. Your mother and I look forward to hearing from you when you land in Germany. You better make us proud. From, Your father. Goodness. Why did his father have to speak as if it was a business exchange? Nixon was his 23 year old son, not his employee. Growing up, the two never truly got along, as Nixon was never keen on the family¡­ business. His father had high expectations that were damn near impossible to meet, and he never held back when it came to voicing his disappointment. That¡¯s why he left in the first place, to find somewhere where he could be praised for the work he put in. The ¡®you better make us proud¡± was rather necessary, Nixon thought to himself, but he responded nonetheless. Spasibo, chto zaglyanul, papa. YA pozvonyu pozzhe. -Thanks for checking in dad. I will call later. As Nixon went to open another message, a familiar name popped up with a message: CANNARD! What room number are you?!?! It was Nathan. ¡®Of course, as soon as I get in..¡¯ Nixon chuckled, amused by the other¡¯s enthusiastic message. Nathan has always been like that, determined and serious when it came to his work but surprisingly bubbly when it came to his friends. It was comforting to have a friend at his unit already, and even better since it was him. They hadn¡¯t spoken in a few years, so he was eager to catch up. Nixon responded with his room number, and within a minute of sending the message, he heard a pounding at his door. Before he could even say anything, he heard his door swing open, and a loud chipper voice, ¡°Oh honeyyyyy!!! I¡¯m HOMEEEE!!!!¡± The sound of plastic bags rustling and glass bottles dropping to the floor could be heard, and Nixon¡¯s eyes widened. How the hell did he find him so quick?! ¡°Jeez Bri, don¡¯t you have anything better to do?¡± Nixon called out, opening the door to his common room. Nathan stood there, grinning from ear to ear, his arms laden with bags of Chinese takeout. On the ground were two 6 packs of beer. ¡°Not when I know my best buddy just landed,¡± he said, dropping the bags onto the small table in the center of the room. ¡°I figured you¡¯d be starving and in desperate need of some decent food after that flight. I let my troops go home early since they got all their stuff done and I had some other priorities to attend to.¡± It made sense, since Nathan seemed to have already changed. Instead of his uniform, he was now clad in a black gym tank and blue basketball shorts. Nathan seemed a lot more toned than when they last saw each other, and a lot more tan since it was still summer. His previous slicked back blond hair now looked ruffled, slightly falling in front of his deep blue eyes. Nathan Brier was a handsome dude, Nixon couldn¡¯t deny that. He had always been the extrovert of the two, coming up with the most random schemes on their nights out and planning all of the events. He was your average American soldier, professional in uniform but not afraid to be a goofball outside of it. Nixon shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. ¡°You always know how to make an entrance.¡± Nathan shrugged, his smile never fading. ¡°What can I say? I¡¯ve got a gift.¡± He pulled out containers of various dishes, the smell of warm food quickly filling the room. ¡°Come on, sit down. We¡¯ve got a lot of catching up to do.¡± As they settled at the table, Nathan handed Nixon a set of chopsticks. ¡°So, tell me everything. How was the flight? How¡¯s Texas been treating you? That''s where you were, right?¡± Nixon took a moment to gather his thoughts, as well as his chopsticks Nathan was right, he was STARVING. ¡°The flight was long, service sucked and I need a shower desperately but I¡¯m just glad to be here. Texas was... alright. Busy. I was really focused on my work, so I didn¡¯t have much time for anything else.¡± The dark haired Russian responded, already beginning to scarf down his food. Nathan was an angel, bringing dishes of chow mein, dumplings, and orange chicken galore. Nathan nodded, his eyes full of understanding. ¡°I get that. It¡¯s been crazy here too, but I¡¯m glad we¡¯re finally in the same place again.¡± He paused, studying Nixon¡¯s face. ¡°You look different, you know. More serious.¡± He frowned slightly. ¡°You good bud?¡± Nixon laughed, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. ¡°Life has a way of doing that to you. Also I may have uh¡­ Totally got ¡®Jodyed¡¯ right before I got here.¡± He said with a sad sort of chuckle. Nixon was referring to the fact that right before he left Texas, a woman whom he had been seeing had, out of nowhere, decided that they were ¡°no longer the right match.¡± It had thrown Nixon all the way off, especially since she had been the one to suggest that they continue their relationship long distance. It wasn¡¯t the most serious relationship, them only having been together for a few months¡­ But Nixon knew that she had found someone else, and he was more upset by the audacity than anything. Nathan¡¯s expression softened and he tilted his head slightly. ¡°Hey, we¡¯re gonna make the most of this. We¡¯ve got each other¡¯s backs, just like always.¡± They dug into the food, the conversation flowing easily between them. They talked about old times, shared stories from their respective deployments, and reminisced about their days in training together. It felt good to laugh again, to be in the company of someone who understood him so completely. It wasn¡¯t until after they finished their food and they began to crack into the beer cases that Nixon asked, ¡°Bri, How¡¯s Vanessa and little Nate doing? Last time I saw Nate he was still in swaddles!¡± Vanessa was Nathan¡¯s wife, whom he had met when they first went to the police academy. Nixon had remembered how smitten they had been, how excited Nate had been when he introduced them. She was beautiful, with long golden hair and big gorgeous brown eyes. She was a southern belle like Nate, both of them with matching accents, and it wasn¡¯t long until Nate announced their engagement, and soon their future son. Nixon noticed the subtle shift in his friend''s demeanor when the subject was brought up, the shadow of a smile masking deeper emotions that Nathan seemed unwilling to confront. ¡°Hey man, today ain''t about me! Today is about you getting here. Why sweat the heavy stuff?¡± Realizing how quick and awkward he was to respond, Nathan sighed. ¡°It could be better, but I¡¯ll tell you about that another day. For now, let''s focus on the good stuff ahead, yeah?¡± Nixon nodded, a sense of curiosity yet relief washing over him. ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s do that.¡± No matter how curious he was, he didn¡¯t want to pry into Nathan¡¯s business on their first day back together. He respected the other¡¯s feelings, and thus proceeded like nothing had happened. The two proceeded to converse over a few beers, Nixon¡¯s mind filled with peaceful and hilarious memories. - Grafenwoeher, Germany Autumn of 2013 As the weeks passed, Nixon and Nathan fell into a comfortable routine at the 45th Military Police Company. They spent their downtime catching up on lost time, immersing themselves in various video games and adventures in order to reconnect. They ended up spending so much time together that at one point, their soldiers started calling each other ¡°uncle.¡± Nixon didn¡¯t care though, it had been forever since he had seen one of his best friends and being able to have someone dear be so close in a new location was wonderful. Nixon found solace in the familiarity of his new unit, gradually adjusting to the rhythm of military life in Germany. Nixon would often do patrols around the post with his soldiers, who he had begun to grow close to. It also turned out that Nathan and him were in separate platoons, both taking on leadership roles within their teams. This was often a topic of discussion, from work gripes to boasting about their soldiers. There was one day in particular where Nathan came into the motorpool beaming, and when Nixon asked why he proudly responded, ¡°that soldier, Specialist Robbins, that I was talking about? WON HIS COURT MARTIAL! So damn proud of that kid.¡± There was no one more enthusiastic about soldier care than Nathan, and Nixon couldn¡¯t help but admire him for that. With Reynolds'' guidance, he navigated the ins and outs of his duties with confidence, and before he knew it he began to feel right at home. Meanwhile, Nathan took it upon himself to show Nixon the best that Germany had to offer, eager to share his love for the country with his friend. They spent their weekends exploring quaint villages and hiking through picturesque forests, soaking in the sights and sounds of their new surroundings. Nathan had a knack for taking pictures, always insisting on setting up his polaroid to take pictures of them. Just to be annoying, Nathan would sneak goofily angled pictures of Nixon, whether he was eating or struggling up a hill on their hikes. At this point, Nathan had about 15 of the ugliest pictures of Nixon known to man. But amidst the laughter and camaraderie, there was one topic that Nathan tended to avoid. No matter how gently Nathan tried to ask about Vanessa, Nathan never answered, either ignoring the question completely or pretending that he didn¡¯t hear him. Despite his curiosity, Nixon respected Nathan''s silence, not wanting to push it any farther. To him, it sounded as though Nathan was just missing them a lot, and he didn¡¯t want to keep reminding him of that. He understood, he missed his family a decent bit¡­ But he had a mission to do. - Grafenwoeher, Germany November 20th, 2023 1230 The company administrative office was bustling with activity as Nixon sifted through paperwork, trying to familiarize himself with his new duties. He was trying to get some leave forms in for the holidays, especially since Thanksgiving was only a few days away and some of his troops decided to make his life difficult and submit their forms late as hell. Nathan had just hit the ¡°send¡± button on his email when he heard the office door swing open and Nathan walked in with a young soldier in tow. ¡°Hear ye, hear ye!¡± Nathan¡¯s voice rang out, capturing the attention of the room. ¡°I come bearing the greatest of news! Our young Soldier in Christ, Specialist Robbins here, has finally earned his rightful place in the Corps of the Non-Commissioned Officers! That is right folks, I now introduce you to¡­ Sergeant Robbins!¡± Nathan spoke in an over exaggerated medieval accent, waving his finger around with one hand and throwing his arm around his soldier. The office erupted in applause and cheers as Specialist Robbins, a shy but proud smile on his face, nodded in gratitude. Robbins was a 21 year old kid, with a spray of freckles across his face and wild red hair. He was a bit misguided at times, but since his court marshal he had really straightened up as a soldier, at least from what Nathan had said. From what Nixon has heard of the kid, he deserved this promotion. Nathan patted him on the back, then turned to the rest of the room with a grin. ¡°And to celebrate this well-deserved promotion, I declare, as your platoon daddy, that we go for drinks tonight! Beers are on me. It¡¯s going to be a night to remember!¡± Nixon looked up from his desk, catching Nathan¡¯s eye. Nathan winked at him, the sparkle in his eyes promising a good time. Nixon couldn¡¯t help but smile back, feeling a surge of excitement. As the workday came to a close, the soldiers began to gather their things, buzzing with anticipation. Nixon found Nathan near the door, grabbing his backpack and throwing on his patrol cap. ¡°You ready for tonight?¡± Nathan asked, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. Nixon chuckled. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m ready. It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve had a proper night out. Plus, I could use a drink or two. These troops are killin¡¯ me these days.¡± Nixon threw on his own cap, ready to walk out with the other. Nathan¡¯s grin widened. ¡°Great! You¡¯ll love the guys, and it¡¯ll be fun. Trust me.¡± He chipped before he opened the door, and the two made their way out and onward to their night of fun Trigger Happy. Grafenwoehr, Germany November 20th, 2013 1730 hrs The two stopped by the barracks to change before heading out that night. Like a bunch of school kids, Nathan had insisted that Nixon come over and get ready with him, to which Nixon willfully obliged. They used to always get ready together anyways, whether it was to military balls or even on double dates. Tonight Nixon had decided to go with a thick, dark leather jacket over a Foster The People T-shirt. His leather jacket had been an old gift from his father before he left for the army, and even though it was slightly tighter now, it still fit like a glove. It was his comfiest article of clothing, and he paired it with a dark set of jeans and a set of deep brown combat boots. Nathan always joked that he dressed like those ¡°edgy tumblr kids,¡± but as far as he knew¡­ This is how everyone back home dressed. Nathan, on the other hand, was dressed a little more preppy. With his deep blue cardigan sweater over a white button down, fitted khakis, and deep brown dress shoes, Nathan looked more like he was on his way to an interview¡­ Or a really uppity yacht party. Nathan adjusted his collar in front of the mirror on the back of his wall locker, glancing over at Nixon who was fussing with his hair in the bathroom mirror. The small barracks room felt even smaller with both of them trying to get ready at the same time, the air filled with a mix of aftershave and the faint hum of conversation. "You heard about Martinez? He finally got an award for that drug bust he did on the other side of post. Hearing that shit was insane," Nathan said, his voice carrying a hint of pride for their friend. Nixon, running his fingers through his hair in frustration, gave a nod. "Yeah, good for him. He''s worked his ass off for it. Well-deserved." He grumbled. Nixon couldn¡¯t decide what kind of style he wanted his hair in at this point. He never wanted to cut his hair too much so the top was left fairly long, but the sides were neatly shaven and in regulation. Right now he felt like no matter how much product he put in, something was sticking up somewhere and it was driving him mad. Nathan chuckled, stepping over to help Nixon with his hair. "Here, let me help you idiot. You''d think all those years in uniform would make this easier." ¡°I can do it myself.¡± Nixon grumbled. ¡°Clearly not, you¡¯re looking a lot more like Beetlejuice right now than anything.¡± Nathan fired back with a quick chuckle and an easy smile. Nixon glared at the other as he watched him finish with his own collar then head over to him. Nathan reached up and began deftly working on Nixon''s hair, their faces were close, and Nixon could feel the warmth of Nathan''s breath. For a brief moment, their eyes met, and Nixon thought he saw something in Nathan''s gaze, a flicker of longing, but he quickly dismissed it as his imagination. "So, how¡¯s it been with the new platoon? Whatcha think of the guys in the unit?" Nathan asked, his fingers moving smoothly through Nixon''s hair. He eyed the tub of hair gel next to the sink and with one hand holding a tuff of hair in one place, he swiftly dipped his fingers in the club and began working on the patch he had. Nixon shrugged, glancing to the side at his reflection in the mirror. "Its¡¯s actually been really good, there¡¯s some real good characters here. Like Sergeant Kelsey, Kelsey¡¯s a good guy. Tough, but fair. Reminds me a bit of you, actually." Nixon said with a bit of a smirk. Rouge was one of the squad leaders in Nixon¡¯s platoon, and probably the second closest person to Nixon. Rouge grew up in the capital of Poland, Warsaw, so the two were able to bond over their strict slavic backgrounds. Ironically, he also enlisted out of California, so the two spent a lof of their reminiscing not only about their slavic upbringing, but their weirdly American ones too. While Nathan was accepting and patient when it came to his accent and background, it felt nice to have someone who actually understood. He occasionally came to hang out with Nathan and Nixon, but since he worked with intelligence his time was a little scarce. He was 23, just like Nixon, having been in about the same amount of time as Nixon. With his mischievous dark green eyes and neat dark hair, Rouge had been pretty popular within the unit. Though, like Nixon, he didn¡¯t seem to have much of an interest in fraternization, preferring to spend his time in the Sensitive Information Facility where he worked. For whatever reason, Nathan hadn¡¯t seemed as keen on their friend as Nathan''s smile faded slightly, his brow furrowing. "Rouge Kelsey, huh? Just... be careful around him, alright? There''s something a bit off about his energy." Nixon laughed, brushing off Nathan''s concern. "What, are you jealous, Bri?" Nathan quickly shook his head, a defensive edge to his tone. "No, it''s not that. I just want you to be cautious¡­ I don¡¯t know, you don¡¯t think there''s something off about him?" Nixon tried to think on it, but he genuinely couldn¡¯t think of anything. Rouge had taken the initiative to introduce himself when they first met, and he had been nothing helpful not only to himself, but for his soldiers. If there was anyone that he could trust other than Nate, it was Rouge¡­ But still. Maybe Nathan sees something that he doesn¡¯t? Regardless, this didn¡¯t stop Nixon from teasing Nathan farther. ¡°I don¡¯t see anything, the only thing I can see is that giant ass nose hair coming out your nostril. ¡° Nixon teased, reaching up to flick Nathan on the tip of his nose. Nathan gasped and checked the mirror, pulling his nose up to check. Nixon chuckled as Nathan¡¯s face sank and he glared over at the other. ¡°Ha ha fucker¡­ Nice try.¡± Nixon smirked, but he couldn''t help but notice the way Nathan looked at him, a soft, almost longing gaze that lingered a moment too long. He quickly pushed the thought aside, convincing himself it was just his imagination. "Alright, alright though," Nixon said, still grinning. "Thanks for the help with my hair. It''s been driving me nuts." Nixon went to pat his hair but the blond batted his hand away. ¡°Don''t touch it.¡± Nathan mumbled as he gave a final tweak, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "Better?" he asked, his voice a low murmur. Nixon turned to the mirror and peered at himself. His onyx hair now sat neatly combed and gelled to the side, the strands glistening and shining as he moved. "Yeah, much better. Thanks," Nixon replied, their eyes meeting once more in the mirror. Nathan wore a warm smile, and Nixon couldn¡¯t help but acknowledge how well dressed both parties were, but especially Nathan. He was always the more extroverted one of the two, so naturally he was usually the one to put more effort into his appearance. Yet tonight, he looked very casual and carefree, which is one of the things that Nixon admired the most about him. "Ready to go?" Nathan asked, breaking the moment. "Yeah, let¡¯s get out of here," Nixon replied, pushing the lingering thoughts aside as they headed out the door, the night promising a blend of laughter, memories, and whole lot of alcohol.
The Red Oak November 20th, 2013 1815 hrs The bar, known as "The Red Oak," was a cozy yet lively establishment nestled in a quaint corner of the town. Its exterior featured rustic wooden panels and a neon sign flickering with the bar''s name in vibrant red letters. Inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, with dim lighting casting a golden glow over the room. The walls were adorned with vintage military memorabilia, photographs of soldiers, and flags from various units. A long, polished wooden bar ran along one side, lined with high stools where soldiers chatted and flirted with the local bartenders, hoping to find themselves a wife. Opposite the bar, a series of wooden tables and plush booths offered seating for groups. The center of the room was left open, often used for impromptu games or dance-offs, adding to the lively vibe. In one corner, a jukebox played a mix of classic rock and contemporary hits, filling the room with a steady stream of music that set the mood for the evening. The bar was alive with energy when they arrived. Laughter, chatter, and the clinking of glasses filled the air. Nathan¡¯s platoon had taken over a corner of the room, their camaraderie evident in the way they welcomed each other. As soon as Nathan and Nixon stepped inside, a cheer went up from the group. ¡°Brier! Cannard! Over here!¡± shouted a tall, burly soldier who introduced himself as Sergeant Martinez. He was short and stocky, but clearly worked out as his navy blue t-shirt clung to his skin. Martinez¡¯s hair remained in the same neat comb over from work, and the scar that ran through his upper lips became more pronounced when he smiled. Nathan led Nixon over to the table, where they were greeted with a round of applause and a chorus of cheers. Tall beer glasses were quickly shoved into their hands, and the celebration began in earnest. Nixon looked around as Nathan began chatting and hooting with his guys, he recognized a few of Nathan¡¯s soldiers but knew he was only at an acquaintance level. He continued to look around until his eyes fell on Reynolds, who was currently bent over the pool table about to shoot his shot. He carefully weaved his way through the crowd of soldiers as he made his way over to the pool table, careful not to spill his drink. Once he made it, he clapped Reynolds on the back, grinning. ¡°Ya better not miss, Big Sarn¡¯t¡± ¡°HA! Not in your life kiddo. Watch and learn.¡± Reynolds glanced back for a moment before focusing back on his game. Carefully, he made sure his aim on the while pool ball was accurate before jutting the stick forward, hitting the ball with force. Unfortunately for him, the ball hit the corner just wrong, and instead of hitting the balls he needed, the ball went right into one of the corner holes. SFC Reynolds pursed his lips. ¡°Oops. You distracted me.¡± ¡°Uh huh.¡± Nixon snickered. Reynolds straightened up and turned to him, beaming once more. ¡°Glad to see you and Brier out and letting loose, Cannard. Was getting a bit worried that you¡¯d be overworking yourself. You¡¯re looking good!¡± Nixon looked down at himself. It wasn¡¯t much, but he supposed that Reynolds hadn¡¯t seen him outside of uniform before, so anything was better than nothing. ¡°Thank you, you as well.¡± Nixon responded, eyeing Reynold¡¯s salmon polo and baggy blue jeans that reminded everyone that he was a dad (they didn¡¯t need reminding, the mustache said it all.) The conversation was short lived as few of the junior soldiers burst into the group around the pool table. ¡°We¡¯re saying cheers y¡¯all! C¡¯mon over!¡± One of the privates yelled, nearly stumbling and spilling his drink a little. One of them grabbed Nixon by the shoulders and shook him eagerly, a cheesy grin plastered on his baby cheeks. ¡°CMON SERGEANT! PARTY!!¡± ¡°Okay okay!¡± Nixon laughed and shook his head, trying to prevent his drink from spilling. Together they huddled over a large booth, where Robbins sat in the middle. Nathan and Sergeant Martinez had their arms wrapped around him, their beers raised shakily. Both were absolutely plastered and it was so obvious. ¡°To Sergeant Robbins, the best damn soldier we¡¯ve got! We love ya kiddo!¡± Martinez bellowed, raising his glass in a toast to the newly promoted NCO. The others followed suit, clinking their glasses together before taking hearty swigs. Nathan ruffled Robbin¡¯s hair as he sipped, the two of them giggling like children. The sight warmed Nixon¡¯s heart, and he couldn¡¯t help but smile the same cheesy smile as the two of them. Nixon found himself relaxing as the night went on. Nathan¡¯s platoon was a friendly, tight-knit group, and their enthusiasm was infectious. He chatted with several of them, exchanging stories and getting to know the people Nathan had spent so much time with. As the night progressed, the mood grew even more jubilant. A few of Nixon¡¯s troops had shown up so he began socializing with them, chatting about dumb MP training stories and reminiscing on the past years of their service. Occasionally he would glance over at Nathan, who was either taking a shot with someone, singing along to the music, or telling some kind of story that had his troops enraptured. He couldn¡¯t help but chuckle at how much Nathan was in his element, it was sweet to see. The group moved from their corner to the bar, where a line of pitchers and mugs were set up for a beer chugging contest. Nathan, ever the life of the party, turned to Nixon with a gleam in his eye. ¡°You up for a challenge, Cannard?¡± Nathan asked, already knowing the answer. Nixon chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°You know I can¡¯t turn down a good contest. Let¡¯s do it.¡± Was it a good idea? Probably not. Nixon could already feel his resolve fading, he himself had already had a decent bit to drink. He can typically hold his drink very well, but he was teetering an unfamiliar line right now. Nathan was definitely worse for wear, his cheeks now flushed as an indication of his intoxication. Getting home would be interesting tonight. They joined the line of eager participants, each of them eyeing the pitchers in front of them. Nathan¡¯s platoon members gathered around, cheering and shouting encouragement. ¡°Alright, on my count!¡± Martinez shouted, acting as the impromptu referee. The man was just as flushed as the rest of them, his speech slurred as he pressed clumsily at his watch. ¡°Three, two, one¡ªchug!¡± The room erupted in cheers as the contestants lifted their pitchers and began chugging. Nixon could feel the cold beer rushing down his throat, the familiar burn of carbonation making his eyes water. German beer was different, and he wasn¡¯t much of a chugger. Beside him, Nathan was gulping down his drink with impressive speed. The cheers grew louder as the pitchers emptied. Nixon could hear Nathan¡¯s platoon shouting his name, their enthusiasm spurring him on. He focused on the task, determined not to let Nathan beat him too easily. As he neared the bottom of his pitcher, Nixon stole a glance at Nathan. His friend was just a few gulps ahead, his face red from the effort. Nixon locked in and inhaled the best he could, and with a final, determined swallow, Nixon finished his beer and slammed the pitcher down on the bar, narrowly beating Nathan. The room exploded with applause and laughter. Nathan set his empty pitcher down, beer foam flowing down his chin as he gave a light cough, shaking his head in mock defeat. ¡°Damn, Cannard. I forgot how good you are at this.¡± Nixon grinned, wiping the foam from his mouth. ¡°Takes a lot to beat me, Brier. That¡¯s why you don''t mess with a commie.¡± Nathan¡¯s eyes sparkled with pride and camaraderie. ¡°You earned it, man. Drinks are on me for the rest of the night.¡± He threw his arm around Nixon and pressed their hot cheeks together, his breaths shallow and smelling of beer. ¡®He¡¯s so drunk,¡¯ Nixon thought, his own intoxication beginning to creep up on him. They spent the rest of the evening celebrating, the beer chugging contest just one of many highlights. Nixon found himself more relaxed and content than he had been in years, the easy camaraderie of Nathan¡¯s platoon making him feel at home. Not long after the competition,, Nixon had found himself leaning against the bar nursing a beer and chatting with a few of the other platoon¡¯s soldiers. The air was thick with the smell of beer and camaraderie. "That was impressive, Cannard," a familiar voice called out over the jukebox. Nixon turned to see Rouge Kelsey making his way through the crowd, a grin plastered on his face. "Thanks, Kelsey," Nixon replied, raising his glass in acknowledgment. "Didn''t think I had it in me." Rouge chuckled, sidling up to the bar beside him. His deep black hair was in a similar comb over as the other troops, and over a black t-shirt he wore a simple red flannel with the sleeves rolled up. The red of his flannel made his bright green eyes pop, and with the easy smile that he tended to have it was no surprise that he was a favorite amongst the unit. He was a handsome dude, Nixon wouldn¡¯t deny it. "You surprised us all. Pretty sure you made a few fans tonight." This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.Nixon smirked. "Just trying to keep up with Nathan." Rouge''s eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. "You and Nathan, huh? You two are pretty close. It''s admirable, really. Not every day you see a bond like that." Nixon felt a flicker of something¡ªpride, perhaps, mixed with a tinge of defensiveness. "We''ve been through a lot together. He¡¯s a good guy." Rouge nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of his drink. "You know, I admire that kind of friendship. It''s rare. Especially in our line of work." "Yeah, well, it helps having someone you can trust," Nixon said, glancing across the room at Nathan, who was engaged in animated conversation with a group of soldiers. One soldier gave Nate a firm but playful shrug, making him spill his beer. Nathan couldn¡¯t care less, as he threw his head back and let out a loud howling laugh that filled the bar. Rouge''s expression softened. "You''re a lucky man, Cannard. Not just for having a friend like Nathan, but for being the leader you are. Your soldiers respect you. Hell, I respect the shit out of you." Nixon was taken aback by the compliment. "Damn Kelsey, that¡¯s really kind of you to say. I appreciate it." Rouge clinked his glass against Nixon''s. "Just calling it like I see it. Not everyone has what it takes to lead, but you''ve got it in spades. Nathan''s lucky to work with a soldier of your caliber." Nixon smiled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. "I appreciate that. Really." Rouge leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. The bustle of the bar roared in Nixon¡¯s intoxicated ears, so he had to keen in really hard to hear the other. "Just remember, Cannard. In this world, trust and loyalty are everything. Don''t let anything come between that. You do that, you¡¯re set. The minute you start to falter¡­ " The tan skinned male paused for a moment, his lips pursing before he continued. ¡°Just watch your back. We need you in this section. In this unit, man.¡± Nixon¡¯s eyebrows furrowed at the rather ominous tone that Rouge gave. Maybe this was the strange energy that Nathan gave off? Yet just as quickly as the tone came, it went, and Rouge straightened back up and gave a charming smile. With slight hesitation, Nixon nodded, sensing the weight behind Rouge''s words. "I won''t. Thanks, Kels." With a final nod, Rouge drifted back into the crowd, leaving Nixon with his thoughts. He glanced over at Nathan again, their eyes meeting for a brief moment. Nathan flashed a quick, reassuring smile, and Nixon couldn¡¯t help but return it. ¡®Trust and loyalty, huh?¡¯ Nixon thought to himself as he took a sip of his beer. What did Rouge know that Nixon didn¡¯t? Later, as the bar began to empty and the celebration wound down, Nathan and Nixon found themselves standing outside, the cool night air a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the bar. Nathan had bummed a cigarette from Nixon, insisting over and over again that he ¡°doesn¡¯t smoke nasty cigarettes¡± and that Nixon is a ¡°bad, naughty influence.¡± ¡°Tonight was good, wasn¡¯t it Nixxy baby?¡± Nathan clapped Nixon on the back. Nixon nodded, a genuine smile on his face. He stumbled forward a bit when Nathan clapped him, though it didn¡¯t seem to phase him. ¡°Yeah, it was. Thanks for bringing me out, Bri. I needed this more than I realized.¡±Nathan grinned, his eyes twinkling in the dim light. ¡°Anytime, Nixon. Anytime.¡± Nathan smiled warmly, taking a drag of his cigarette. ¡°What do you say we get outta here? My bed is calling me tenderly.¡± ¡°You got that right.¡± Nixon agreed, sticking his cigarette in his mouth and whipping out his phone to call the taxi. The buttons on his phone were going blurry, and as he struggled to punch in the numbers, he felt himself stumble as Nathan threw an arm around him and began swaying. "Nixon?" Nathan leaned into the other, holding his cigarette out to his side as not to burn the other. Nathan was so close he was knocking Nixon off balance. Nixon stumbled and chuckled, wrapping his other arm around Nathan as he tried to concentrate. Despite how drunk they were, how cold the night was, the ominous advice from Rouge... The dark haired Russian was as content and happy as could be. "Hmm?" "Can we get McDonalds? I might throw up or cry if we don''t." Nevermind.
Grafenwoehr, Germany November 20th, 2013 0200 hrs ¡°Jesus christ it¡¯s cold!¡± The tall blond laughed as he swung open the door to his room, damn near waking up everybody on the floor. ¡°I know, I can''t feel my fucking hands dude..¡± The dark haired man with the Russian accent followed, his giggles matching those of his friend¡¯s. It had been a long night of drinking and partying, and it felt so wonderful to be home. It was a bitter cold night in Germany, the cold just now setting in as the year came to an end. The base was silent at this time of night, except for the bustle of drunken soldiers casually strolling in after nights that matched the ones that these two had. The blond, obviously plastered out of his mind, gripped the sink before him as he placed his head in his hand, giggling like a little school girl. ¡°Can¡­ Cannard..!¡± ¡°Oh c''mon man, you¡¯re telling me a country boy like you can¡¯t hold his drink?¡± ¡°Fucking hell I cant stop laughing.. Can you get me some water dammit!!¡± The male exclaimed, unable to contain his now wheezing laughter. Cannard couldn¡¯t help but laugh along with him, his laughter was just too contagious. The dark haired male pattered over to the fridge, clumsily rolling a water bottle out from the bottom shelf and pittering over to his friend. ¡°Let¡¯s go Bri, I¡¯m putting you to bed.¡± ¡°Oh shut the fuck up, it¡¯s the weekend! I¡¯m staying up allll~ night!¡± ¡°Nooo you are not,¡± Cannard protested, handing his buddy the water with one hand and firmly gripping his shoulder with the other. ¡°-Because some of us, aka you, have work tomorrow.¡± ¡°Ah fuck¡­ ¡®Kay.¡± Brier grumbled, allowing Nixon to guide him through the bedroom door and onto the bed. Brier loosely wobbled for a minute before plunking on his side on the bed and watching as Cannard took the bottle from his hand and placed it on the floor. ¡°Nixon~?¡± ¡°Yes, Nathan?¡± Nixon rolled his eyes at the other, speaking in the same cooing tone that the other had used. ¡°Did you notice that one girl hitting on you at the bar?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± Nixon asked, mostly because he couldn''t hear that well right now, but also because what he did hear genuinely confused him. ¡°Nixon~??¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°You were flirting with her weren¡¯t you~?¡± ¡°Are you talking about the redhead? I wouldn¡¯t exactly call that my type.¡± While they were out and about, Nixon had struck up a conversation with one of the local women. While she had been beautiful, with bright green eyes, red hair and a beauty mark by her chin, Nixon had not really been out in search of a lay. He was mostly out to celebrate his soldier''s promotion. ¡°She¡¯s a cutie, you should go for it..¡± Brier reached down and grabbed his water, his eyes droopily closing as he took a sip sideways. A little dripped from the edge of his lips, causing Nixon to chuckle softly and use his sleeve to wipe it off. The blond muttered a thank you before looking up at him. ¡°You¡¯ve always been so quiet, I¡¯ve only seen you with women a handful of times. Are you keeping things from me, Cannard?! DO YOU NOT LOVE ME ANYMORE?!¡± The blond flung his arms out dramatically, his water bottle sloshing some water onto the floor as he did so. ¡°Oh shut your mouth! It¡¯s not that!¡± Nixon couldn¡¯t help but laugh at how soft Brier gets when he''s drunk. Nixon drank just about the same, but his old days in the barracks made him less likely to get¡­ messy like this. We aren¡¯t talking about a small statured person either, Nixon was a large man but Brier was more packed muscle wise by a long shot. Both were PT studs, but it always seemed that Brier could excel where Nixon lacked proficiency. The male admired the other, so much so it was borderline jealousy. ¡°I¡¯m just not a slut like you.¡± Nixon teased as he sat on the bed beside the other¡¯s head. ¡°I love the military too much, you know this.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ You¡­ You should bang that girl who works in Admin. You know which one I¡¯m talkin¡¯ about.¡± ¡°Nathan Brier.¡± ¡°I..! Am just saying.¡± ¡°Well because you wanna snoop and you never wanna answer me.. How are you and Vanessa? How is little Nate doing too?¡± ¡°Yeah about that...¡± Brier mumbled sort of briskly, ¡°We uh¡­ We split back in May.¡± ¡°What?! Is that why you¡¯ve been avoiding the question?!¡± Nixon sputtered, taken aback by this sudden news. Nixon had always teased Nathan because they always seemed so starstruck together, he never would have suspected that they would have any kind of problems. Yet he spoke so nonchalantly. ¡° Yeah man,¡± Brier sighed, sitting up lazily and bracing himself up against his pillow. ¡°It just didn¡¯t click I guess.. We just had some self discovery to do. We got married so young so we fought a lot I guess.. It wasn¡¯t healthy for Nate Jr..¡± This was probably the most serious tone Nixon had ever heard from Nathan, noting how the male¡¯s brows furrowed and his mouth formed a slight frown. ¡°Do you miss them?¡± ¡°Sometimes¡­ Especially Nate.. I think this is for the best though,¡± He shrugged. Nixon was speechless for a moment, still taken aback. He could have sworn that he saw the other¡¯s lips tremble. ¡°Damn man.. Then we really need to get you back out there! You know how many Germans there are out there who would love a blondie like you? ¡° Nixon spoke up, trying to sound and appear more upbeat by playfully nudging the other. Brier cocked an eyebrow and shrugged once more, not looking at him. ¡°C¡¯mon Nate, so we¡¯re both single out here! We might as well live it up! Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯ve gone fruity on me!¡± Nixon continued, eyeing the other searching for even an inkling of a reaction. Brier remained silent, staring off into what seemed like nothing. The room was silent, the only noise that could be made was the soft humming of the vents going. Did he say something wrong? Did he not like German girls? Was his joke offensive? Di- ¡°Hold up..¡± Nixon mumbled, his eyes once again going wide at the other. ¡°Did.. you go- Are you..?¡± ¡°Well¡­¡± ¡°I¡­ OHHH!!¡± A lightbulb went off in his head, and Nixon promptly smacked himself on the forehead. ¡°I-.. Jesus Nate¡­ I¡¯m so sorry..¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± ¡°Nah nah.. I wouldn¡¯t have made that joke if I would have known- wait you like-¡± ¡°It¡¯s a sort of new thing man, I swear it¡¯s okay.¡± ¡°But-¡± ¡°Shhh..¡± The blonde male sat up and pressed his finger against the other¡¯s lips. It seemed like he had begun to sober up since he wasn¡¯t as wobbly, which made Nixon a little weary. Nixon went to speak again, but stopped when Brier took a deep breath as though he was going to say something. ¡°I think I¡¯ve always been like this, I only realized a few months before the divorce.. Don¡¯t spread that shit around the unit, okay?¡± ¡°No¡­ No of course not, Bri..¡± Nixon began to trail off, and stopped as he turned and faced forward. His eyes fixated on the lamp on Brier¡¯s desk, he had no idea what to say now. This was a lot to take in.. What was he supposed to say now? It got quiet once again and Nixon heard Nathan give a long sigh before slowly slumping against his shoulder. He felt the other put his weight on him, which caused a gentle frown. ¡°Nix¡­?¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± ¡°Have you ever thought about being with a guy?¡± ¡°Uh- Huh??¡± Nixon looked down at Brier, who was staring up at him with glossy eyes. ¡°What-¡° ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Bad question?¡± ¡°I- uh- It¡¯s just¡­ I- No??¡± Nixon replied, shaking his head and facing forward once more. What kinda fucking question was that? And why was he acting all bashful all of a sudden?? The truth was¡­ ¡°I just¡­ It never crossed my mind, Nate. What are you getting at?¡± ¡°Do you wanna know?¡± ¡­ Okay. He was gonna ignore that Brier was saying anything. He began nervously tapping his feet, his eye shifting to the ground. This was one of his best friends after all.. What was he trying to prove?? ¡°Cannard..¡± The blond¡¯s husky voice murmured. Nixon felt two fingers press gently against the other side of his jaw, his body stiffening as he was slowly turned to look at the other. He watched as Nate shifted to an upright position, the mattress dipping as the other hand was placed directly behind Nixon. He felt cornered, being forced to be so close to the drunken man. At this point there was no telling how fucked up Nate was, all he knew was that he was getting dangerously close¡­ ¡°Hey,¡± Surprisingly soft fingers traced the outline of his stiffened jaw, and Nixon had to avert his eyes as he felt the other¡¯s piercing eyes on him. ¡°Look at me.¡± He heard the other coax him and felt him lean forward. Wow¡­ Hot breath on his neck.., Okay.. Weird¡­ Chills up the spine¡­ Even worse. ¡°Nixon,¡± The dark haired male held his breath, feeling every letter imprint itself onto his neck. ¡°-I won¡¯t do anything without your permission¡­ Just tell me when to stop..¡± Jesus.. Nixon couldn¡¯t figure out why he couldn¡¯t get the words out. This was all kinds of wrong, this was one of his boys; he had never even entertained the idea that he was even a little attracted to men. Yet everything about him burned. Nathan¡¯s hand on his chin migrated to his face, cupping his cheek as he drew closer. He couldn¡¯t bring himself to tell him no, not because he was uncomfortable; he wasn¡¯t uncomfortable in the slightest¡­ Which was honestly the weirdest part. ¡°Nate-¡± And then he felt the warmth against his lips and he froze. Nathan¡¯s lips were rougher than any of the women that he¡¯d ever been with, yet held a softness that Nixon never knew he had. His eyes had widened as Nate¡¯s closed, and he knew that he should have pushed him off. This was weird, his MALE BEST FRIEND was kissing him. He had to get him off, he HAD to¡­ Yet despite these thoughts, he found his eyelids fluttering half shut, his body slowly but surely melting into the other¡¯s touch. Their lips and bodies moved cautiously at first, the kiss starting as a prolonged peck and quickly deepend. Nathan, still wobbly, swayed a bit as he inched a bit closer, one hand still holding himself up and the other moving to the back of Nixon¡¯s neck, where he guided the other¡¯s head closer to his. When Nathan had slid his tongue in to taste Nixon¡¯s, Nixon couldn''t help but taste the beer on his tongue. He hadn¡¯t meant to, but he heard himself make a soft breathy moan that he tried to catch in his throat but failed. He hadn¡¯t realized that he was gripping the bed sheets until he reached up to grab Nathan¡¯s arm, firmly gripping onto him but not pulling him away. ¡®What the hell is going on¡­ And what the HELL am I doing?!¡¯ Nixon tried asking himself, but he felt like he was in a haze. A haze that his drunken self refused to pull out of. That is, until he felt the warmth that once began to envelope him pull away from him. It was then that he drowsily opened his eyes and leaned back on his palms, looking over to see Nathan still looking at him. This time, he looked concerned. ¡°Cannard¡­ Jesus¡­¡± Nathan breathed out, his cheeks flushed from both the alcohol and the encounter. He turned away, biting the corner of his lip and clearing his throat. ¡°I um.. That was really fucked up of me. I know you don¡¯t swing that way, I shouldn¡¯t have.. Fuck I¡¯m so drunk.¡± The stoic man placed his face in his hands, rubbing his face like there was something on it. Meanwhile, Nixon was blinking away his fogginess, his mind going haywire. The sudden temperature shift had brought him back to sober reality, and it sunk into him that he had just MADE OUT WITH HIS BEST FRIEND? His heart was pounding and he knew that his face was just as flushed. A million thoughts raced through his head, the same recurring thoughts and fears¡­ Yet his foggy mind didn¡¯t dare process any of it. He took a shaky breath, mouth turning to cotton as he just stared at the other. ¡°Um¡­ I should go.¡± ¡°Nix-¡° ¡°Sorry Bri um¡­ Are you gonna be good?¡± He felt terrible for leaving him here but he swore if he stayed, he might actually go nuts. He stood up and dusted off his jacket, while Brier stared at him with a blank, almost confused look. ¡°Uh y-yeah I¡¯ll be fine.. See you tomorrow?¡± ¡°Absolutely yeah!¡± Nixon said in a rushed voice, feeling like he needed to leave right that moment. ¡°Yeah yeah dude I¡¯ll uh¡­ Yeah I¡¯ll see you tomorrow! Okay yeah um.. Yeah¡­ Bye..¡± Nixon nodded quickly and spun around, almost tripping over his drunken self. He didn¡¯t hear a response from Nathan but he didn¡¯t need it, he had already rushed out of the room as fast as he could. As he sped walked down the hallway he caught sight of Rouge, who was ushering one of his soldiers into their barracks room. Rouge squinted his eyes at Nixon and called out to him. ¡°Cannard? You good?¡± ¡°Yup yup just¡­ Need some air..¡± Nixon called out, hanging his head low. He needed more than air, he needed a whole new body. A whole new brain. What the FUCK. END OF CHAPTER 2