Active Duty - Hunter And Bailey -gay- -

"They won’t," Bailey said softly. "Not unless we tell them. And I’m not asking for a parade, Hunter. I’m asking you to stop pretending you don’t feel this."

Hunter’s thumb traced Bailey’s jawline. "Don’t call me that when you’re in my lap." Active Duty - Hunter and Bailey -Gay-

"You need to stop worrying about me," Hunter said, voice low. "That’s an order." "They won’t," Bailey said softly

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." I’m asking you to stop pretending you don’t feel this

Bailey grinned. "Yes, sir."

Hunter finally looked at him. Really looked. Bailey’s face was smudged with dust and exhaustion, but there was something unshakable there. Kindness. Courage. A love that had grown quietly over six months of patrols, near-misses, and late-night conversations about everything except what mattered most.

Hunter sat on the edge of his cot, unlacing his boots with the mechanical precision of a man who had done it ten thousand times. His hands were rough, knuckles scarred. He was all sharp angles and hard lines—until Bailey walked in.