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And then a thought occurred to him.

“Is…” He hesitated as he felt Carter tense further and decided to risk it. “Is that why you’re here? In Port Dale, at the fort?”

For a moment, it felt as though he were handling a bomb primed to explode. Marco waited, knowing there was nothing more he could do to help Carter. The man had to choose for himself.

Carter swallowed thickly. “My last team.”

A pause. He cleared his throat and took a breath.

And tried again. “I didn’t know them all that well, a few months. Just another group of jackasses, but that’s soldiers for you. We don’t know how to, I don’t know, behave? All of us had been shunted around, the military trying to see if switching people made shit better. It didn’t. All it did was fuck up morale and make everyone hate what was happening.”

Carter kept his eyes on the wall next to him, and Marco didn’t try to pull his gaze back. He knew better. This had to be done Carter’s way.

“They were alright, this last team. Stone, Michaels, Coome...who,God, he got so much shit for his name. Bose, Villion. Good guys, dumbasses, but damn fine soldiers and good men. Put up with my shit, and I guess I put up with theirs. We got on alright after a few months, and then we were...it was supposed to be a simple recon job. Go out to the village, abandoned for weeks, chase out the stragglers, be back for dinner. Whatever.”

Marco watched, enraptured, horrified, and spellbound as Carter’s throat clenched, his jaw tightening. He realized halfway through the story that Carter’s hand was gripping Marco’s hip tightly.

“It was an ambush. Don’t know if they thought it would be some big victory or if they just wanted to kill some soldiers. Caught us out in the open. Bose was the first, just...there, and the next thing I know, he’s on the ground, hole in the head. We scrambled for cover but, fuck...it all went to shit. Michaels caught a bullet and bled out while we dragged him away. Stone was team leader, and he tried, fucking...he tried. Tried to get us out, tried to keep us alive.”

Carter’s head drooped, and he stared at the floor. Though Marco didn’t think he was seeing it, not truly.

“When Stone was cut down from behind, it was up to me...next in line, you know? Command ordered over the radio, we were supposed to wipe out the insurgents, kill the people when we didn’t even know where they were or how many they were.”

Carter gave an ugly snort, shaking his head.

“I said, ‘fuck that,’ and got the rest out while I could. Coome, Villion, and I got out and hoofed it back to base. Had to drag Villion behind us as we went, took a couple to the leg. And those...thosefuckersin charge decided Stone had fucked up, and I’d disobeyed orders.”

Carter vibrated, though if it was with pain or rage, Marco couldn’t be sure. His heart was in his chest, breaking for the man struggling beside him.

“I lost it,” Carter said simply. “I’d just watched my team die around me, and one of them was being blamed, and so was I. Because I chose my team over their stupid as fuck orders. And I lost it. I don’t even remember what happened, blacked out? Fuck if I know. I woke up in the medbay later and was told I was being shipped out and that I was lucky I wasn’t being discharged.”

Carter sneered, which was the most heartbreaking thing Marco had ever seen. “Lucky. Right. How lucky was that? Thrown away from the only thing I’d known for years. Thrownaway after watching them all die and then not knowing what happened to Villion and Coome. Treated like shit wherever I went because somehow, what happened, or enough of it, got leaked. Lucky. Fuck, do I feel so goddamn lucky?”

Swallowing hard, Marco slowly circled Carter so he could stand in front of him. Carter was still looking resolutely at the floor, his chin trembling slightly before he controlled it. He couldn’t keep the pain from shining out of his eyes, though, or the fact that they were wet.

Marco reached up slowly, giving Carter the chance to draw away. Carter did no such thing, though he didn’t react either. Not until Marco carefully cupped one side of his face, feeling the tight muscles flex. Carter didn’t move for several heartbeats before letting out a heavy breath and then leaning into the touch.

“How?” Carter asked softly.

Marco cocked his head. “How what?”

“How do you put up with my shit? With all the bull I know comes with being around me.”

Marco smiled gently. “That’s easy. From the first, I had a really good feeling about you deep in my gut. And it seems like every time I see you, it’s no longer about a feeling but being proven right. You’ve been proving that gut instinct right every damn day, and I’m loving it. I love finding out more about you, seeing the man you are, and not the man everyone likes to think you are...or the oneyouthink you are.”

As he spoke, Carter’s eyes slowly slid over to look Marco in the face, gaze stuttering for a moment before locking on. Emotion drained as Carter’s face went almost entirely slack. By the time he finished, Carter’s mouth was partly open, and only his eyes showed anything, wide open and filled with something bigger than Marco had words for.

“Because you’re a good man. A strong man who has survived so much, enough that no one would blame you for being bitterand angry at the world. Instead, you keep trying to do the right thing, even if other people don’t always see it that way.Thatis who I see. That is the man named Carter Grant.”

Then Marco saw a slight flicker of life behind Carter’s eyes. The twinkle of hope, painful and inspiring as it was. Along with it were a flash of joy, a surge of pain, and an ache that had nothing to do with anything painful. It shot across Carter’s face, and Marco smiled when he saw it.

Carter’s arms were strong and fierce as they wrapped around Marco, pulling him close. His fingers were gentle as they grabbed Marco’s face and tilted it so Carter could bend down and kiss him. It was nothing like the other kisses, having all the heat from before but slower and not nearly as sharp.

It was perfect, and Marco felt his heart skip as he melted against him. He could feel Carter coiling up as though preparing to strike or drag Marco off, and he had a good idea of the destination. That was okay with him. The physical was where Carter spoke the clearest and felt the most comfortable expressing himself.

“Marco,” Carter breathed, voice quivering at the edges.

“The bed this time?” Marco asked with a small smile.