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“Why do I want to know?”

“Yeah, Matt. Why would you want to know? Isn’t it enough to know it’s a thing and leave it at that?”

“No.”

“No?”

Matt’s hands flopped into his lap, fingers twitching. “Look, it’s not enough, okay? I-I’m still trying to wrap my head around all this, trying to see things clearly. And you know how I am when I can’t figure something out.”

Nick couldn’t help his smile. “You get obsessive.”

“I don’t obsess. I get...focused.”

“Yeah, obsessive.”

Matt swatted him. “I do not. Now quit distracting me and answer the damn question.”

What could he really say in the face of that? Nick sighed, studiously picking at a loose thread on his pants.

“A while,” he muttered.

“That’s...vague.”

Nick tugged on the thread. “I don’t remember the exact day.”

That was a lie because he did. It was a crystal-clear memory. Two years into his friendship with Matt, he’d known he was attracted, but he could live with that. And sure, at the time, the friendship made things awkward, but a crush was livable, and he knew with time, it would pass.

Until they’d been helping some fresh-out-of-boot recruits. He and Matt had been fresh off their first deployment, the horrors and struggles still fresh in their mind. Helping starry-eyed recruits helped somehow, even if they knew there was a chance some of them would one day lose that innocence in the bloodiest way possible.

Nick still didn’t know what caused the sharp crack that sounded far too much like gunfire. But it had been enough to send both him and Matt into action. Nick had dived for cover, and Matt had grabbed the younger man he’d been sparring with and dragged him down. Problem was, they’d been near a small trench after a heavy rain. The two men had slid into the thick mud below, with the recruit squawking in confusion.

Shimmying close to the edge, Nick had looked down, making sure nothing was broken. He’d found a dazed and worried recruit covered in mud. Matt was no better, covered head to toe in thick mud, sitting back and cracking up. His moment of fear and training-driven instinct had passed, and he’d seen how ridiculous the whole thing had been. Nick’s chest had squeezed as he looked down at this crazy man who had been his best friend for a couple of years already—a brother in arms and someone willing to laugh hysterically at himself over the stupidest thing.

“Years,” Nick finally amended, voice rough.

“I’m guessing this hasn’t been just the past couple of years, huh?” Matt asked softly.

Nick could still see the mud smeared over Matt’s eyebrow. Could still remember the warmth of his hand as Nick helped him out of the trench. He’d looked tired, worn down, a little startled, still covered in mud, but God, had he been beautiful. Everything Nick had been holding off had crumbled, and he felt himself teetering from the realm of crush and straight into love. Pure and bright, warm and aching, love.

“No,” he said softly.

Matt shifted uneasily next to him. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Nick snorted, yanking the thread free finally. “Would you?”

“Have said anything?”

“If it were you, yeah.”

“Well, yes...I don’t know.”

Sitting next to Matt was strange, talking so openly about something he’d kept buried for so many years. It could have almost been any other conversation they’d had, sat side by side. Conversations where Nick could enjoy Matt’s presence, feel the warmth coming off his skin, and know they might end up curled around one another in bed for comfort. It was their habit, their pattern, which had deepened the ache in Nick’s chest and, over the years, brought him comfort.

Matt let out another heavy sigh. “It’s just...weird to think about.”

Nick winced. “I get that.”

Matt shook his head. “I don’t mean...I’m not, like, freaked out or anything.”