Page 4 of Christmas Miracle
“Right. Sorry. Proposal.” A little shiver went through John, one that he tried his best to ignore. “Lay it on me.”
Brett shifted, and his hands clenched tightly at each other, fingers interlacing, as John knew always happened when Brett was nervous. Whatever he was about to say, he wasn’t entirely at ease about it, and John arched an eyebrow, curious now. What could Brett have to ask him that would have him nervous?
Brett frowned, and John took a moment just to look at the other man. Sometimes, just for a moment, he would feel eyes on him when Brett was the only one in the room with him, but by the time John looked up, Brett would be looking at something else. Every so often he had wondered if Brett looked at him more than John knew, but it didn’t seem likely.
He had never seen Brett date anyone, and even though John had been gone so much, he felt like he would know. Brett would tell him something like that. So, if Brett weren’t into dating, into romance, maybe not even into sex, with anyone, why would he be with John?
Or maybe, something desperate inside himself whispered, maybe Brett just didn’t know how to deal with people. For all of their many amazing qualities, Brett’s parents had been repressed, had taken him out of school in the second year of high school to keep him safe. Luckily for John, they had liked him, but Brett had never had very many other friends.
So maybe Brett did have a thing for John. Or maybe he could. And if John leaned over and kissed the other man now, maybe Brett would kiss him back.
Also, maybe both of them would sprout wings and be able to fly everywhere. Brett wasn’t interested in John, and John, he told himself firmly, wasn’t interested in Brett, either. Or any man. Nocturnal fumblings with the other soldiers aside, he’d never gone very far, after all, and it was just because there hadn’t been that many women around.
If there ever could be a man that John could be with, though, it would be Brett. But he couldn’t. There were so many reasons why not. So, as always, John bit his tongue and gritted his teeth and waited for the urge to go away. It always did, eventually. Booze helped.
He got up and went to the fridge as Brett spoke, because speaking of booze, he could definitely use a beer or three. It helped with the pain a little, which was quite bad right now. It was a relief to pop open the beer, to hold onto the counter to help keep him on his feet and swallow down the golden liquid.
He almost fell over when Brett spoke.
“Move in with me?”
