Chapter Text
1) Mike Wynn
It was a week after the paddle party, and the day before Nate's flight out to Baltimore. Almost his entire life had already been packed up and shipped out, his old beater truck had been sold, and even his apartment keys had been handed over. Mike and his wife were letting him spend a couple nights on their basement futon, which was pretty generous considering the aftermath of the aforementioned party.
With that said, Cara had made it clear that she had her own entertaining to do that night, and suggested they might find somewhere else to spend a few hours. So it was off to a bar with them, albeit a relatively sedate one. If there were any Marines to be found, they were more Mike's type, quiet senior NCOs and family men more interested in pool or sports than whores and fistfights.
Their conversation was a little more stilted and stumbling than normal. They didn't have as much to talk about with the usual suspects removed, even with the enforced dividing line of rank removed. They weren't exactly people who'd hang out together if it weren't for the Corps. At the same time, there was enough, because you could say the same thing about Nate and his sister. Family was family - unless someone got disowned.
It was getting late when he finally worked up the courage to say something, enough that Mike was making noises about calling a cab to take them home. He could wait until the cold light of morning, but that might be worse than saying nothing at all. If there was a going to be a scene, better to do it among strangers than in front of the kids.
Nate downed a shot of liquid courage. "Mike, I don't know when I'm going to see you again."
Mike gave him a wry look. "Breakfast, I assume."
"And I know I've told you a dozen times how much your support has meant to me. How much I respect you." Mike waited for him to finish this time. "I don't know if I've ever lied about it directly, but if I have I'm stopping now. I'm gay."
"I'm going to need another beer." Mike said, signalling the bartender but otherwise his usual placid self. "Anything else?"
"What else do you want me to say?"
"You have a guy?"
"No."
"Huh." Mike took a sip. He seemed… surprised? Nate supposed if Mike hadn't suspected, then he must have been doing a pretty damned good job of keeping things under wraps. "Well, I'm honored that you told me."
"I'm sorry I didn't earlier."
"Nate, maybe I should remind you that you're no longer legally obligated to make excuses for things the Marine Corps forces you to do."
Nate cracked a smile. "I don't know, I bitched about a lot of other things when it was just us. But I take your point."
"You plan to come out to anyone else?" Mike said it a little too casually, one of those questions where he already had an opinion about what the answer should be but didn't want to say it.
"Maybe once there's something more to tell." Nate chuckled. "Or maybe I should just have it printed in Rolling Stone."
"Whatever makes you happy."
2) Elizabeth Weir
"You look like you had a long night."
"I was up late finishing this paper for you, had trouble sleeping, and then in the morning my boyfriend broke up with me after a screaming match about whether I was cheating on him with one of my Marines." And really, fuck him, Christeson and Stafford weren't even the same person.
"That sucks. Coffee?"
"Yes, please."
3) Ray Person
Ray was definitely trying to yank his chain. They were still feeling each other out, so to speak, a few days into a cross-country road trip between Maryland and Missouri. Virginia was in the rearview mirror, as were Walt and his family. ("Are you sure you've thought this through, sir?" he'd asked.) Ray was going to have to try harder than 'accidentally' taking them to a gay bar on drag night if he wanted a rise out of Nate.
"I swear, I had no idea it was this kind of place," Ray said, as if the tight jeans and low v-neck tee that exposed his tats were just a coincidence.
"Uh huh."
"We could find somewhere else if you want."
"Do they serve alcohol? Then we're fine."
And of course Ray took that as a challenge, so by the time the show really got started they were both well on their way toward hammered. Nate wasn't quite as well dressed - while packing he'd realized that at least four-fifths of his shirts were still either olive or khaki - but he was still having to fend off advances left and right.
"LT, you know I love tits and pussy, right?" Ray shouted over the music and cheering crowd, drunkenly leaning against Nate while they watched in awe as a sixty-year-old drag queen danced like she was a third that.
"I am assured of this."
"I love cock, too." He stared at Nate, wild-eyed and vulnerable. He looked like he needed a hug. Nate gave him one.
"So do I," Nate admitted against Ray's mouth. The sloppy makeouts and other things that followed were probably a bad idea, but fuck it, what was the point of a road trip if you didn't do something crazy?
4) Sarah Gardner
"So I understand the value of this as a training exercise," Sarah said as she and Nate watched a bunch of wet, shirtless Marines run past toward the climbing wall and the pyramid of (mostly) male muscle being constructed there. A few stragglers were still pulling themselves from the ocean. "But I'm not sure I understand all the touching."
"There's a book you should read," Nate replied. "It'd explain a lot about the homoeroticism."
"I already have. To be honest, it mostly confused me more."
Nate wasn't sure who put that ebook into the expedition's library, but he'd make them regret it someday. "I'll give you Brad's email, maybe he can translate. Or Ray." Actually, no, he wasn't going to let her ever meet Ray if he could help it.
"It's so much simpler with Jaffa. When they're being homoerotic, it's because they're angling for sex with another man, not trying to prove how straight they are."
"I don't quite get it myself. With events like this, I was always too focused on not getting a hardon to try to figure it out."
Sarah snorted. "No wonder you have so much self-control."
5 )Laura Cadman
"So you know how this place resembles a giant high school?" Laura asked as she spotted Nate at the weight bench.
"A lot of bases do."
"Well, I've been asked to ask if you might be interested in going on a date with someone."
Nate gave her a skeptical look. "I've heard about your idea of dating help. I don't think anyone involved has recovered from it yet."
"That was all McKay's fault. You can't blame me for what happened under the influence of a strange body. Anyways, Dr. Kusanagi's wondering if you'd be up for dinner."
"Please tell her I'm flattered," Nate replied, "but unavailable."
"Oh? Are you taken? Got yourself a Suzie Rottencrotch back home?"
"No, but if I did, he'd be more of a Sammy."
"Huh." Laura shrugged. "You'd think that'd be good news, given the male-female ratio around here, but the Marines throw everything off. I think Dr. Fitz is single."
"Still very much not interested in your attempts to help."
+1 Brad Colbert
Brad knew he was pushing things past the point of sanity. Drinking with your buddy after action was a time-honored tradition, not that a single cup of what was basically hard cider was going to produce even a mild buzz. Comforting him and telling he'd done well, ditto. Waxing poetic about his leadership and comparing him to the Captain of Gondor, well, Ray would be giving him shit for weeks if he'd heard that. But inviting him to share your bed and joking about rubbing off on each other, that went way past mandatory Marine homoeroticism and straight into the plot of a romance novel. He needed to back off fast, because he was on the verge of letting slip things he couldn't afford if he wanted to keep Nate's friendship.
Except then Nate looked into his eyes and said, "I only do that if a guy buys me dinner first," and even if his voice was light there was nothing but hard sincerity in that gaze.
'Oh, fuck, I'm an idiot', Brad thought to himself. His Marine training to act first and panic later saved his ass yet again, and he leaned in to kiss him.
+2 Walt Hasser
"Okay, so I'm just going to lay this out. Nate and Brad are fucking."
"Ray, you're not supposed to tell me this."
"No, Brad's not supposed to tell you this. I'm ripping off this bandaid rather than watch them dance around the subject with you for a month like they did me and Sarah."
"Could you two assholes have this conversation when we're not running from a fucking mob?"
"Sorry, Brad."