ATTACHED - JOINED, CONNECTED, BOUND BY EMOTION
Define ‘attached’…
Finding Captain Becker should have been the best thing that Matt Anderson had ever done, but it couldn’t ever be, he told himself firmly, his mission came first. However, that didn’t stop him looking. He could look, he reasoned, looking didn’t come under the heading of ‘getting attached’ he was sure, and after all, mission or no mission, he was only human! So he looked, covertly, out of the corner of his eye, or over the CCTV, and he found himself liking what he saw. The toned, muscular physic, the hard-man image, the neatly combed shiny brown hair, the way he stood, the way he smiled… these were the things that drove him crazy at night, as he tried in vain to sleep. Then Matt began to notice other things, like the way the soldier had of smirking when he was about to make a joke, the look in his beautiful hazel eyes when he was being all sassy and sarcastic, how expressive his eyebrows were, the way talking about the past always brought tears to his eyes, how he ordered his soldiers around in one voice and spoke to him in entirely another, the way he petted his guns when he thought they weren’t looking, the way his eyes lit up when he laughed… these were the things that drove him crazy all the time, at night and in the daytime too. But that didn’t mean he was attached, just that he had something tempting right in front of him every single day that he was having a tough time resisting, and that was not being attached. Alright, so maybe he shouldn’t have gotten drunk that night and kissed him, maybe that was pushing it a bit, and maybe taking him home and fucking him senseless hadn’t been the best idea, however satisfying it had been, but fucking was not being attached, and their little Friday-night-and-Saturday arrangement was nothing more than a means to an end. Yes, okay, it made him feel warm and fuzzy to wake up with him there in the mornings, but that wasn’t being attached either, it was familiar and comfortable that was all. He’d have to be careful now, he knew, because familiarity was right on the borderline, but so long as he was careful there was no reason why they couldn’t go on being comfortable and familiar. Then those three little words passed his lips one night, in the heat of their lovemaking, and as their flesh cooled and reality set in, Becker obliviously snoring beside him, Matt realised that it was too late. He wasn’t attached because he hadn’t ever been, he’d bypassed attached the second they met, and fallen head over heels in love. Carefully, he sat up, wrapping his arms around his bent knees. The white sheet covering them was both cool and warm at the same time, and he glanced over his bare shoulder to where his Becker lay, his face more open in slumber than it ever usually was, and Matt felt privileged. No one else ever got to see that. No one else was trusted this much. This was it, he realised, as he watched his lover sleep, he needed this, and Becker needed this, this was where they were supposed to be. Mission or not, he couldn’t just walk away now, and neither did he want to. He lay down again, curling around the sleeping soldier, who snuggled against him with a sweet little sigh. His mind was made, he needed Becker, and he was confident he could still complete his mission if they stayed together. Content at last, Matt Anderson closed his eyes, sleep rolling over him.
