After the End Ch. 19

"How to do what?" he asked, his tone gentler too.

"Be with someone. Other than Avery."

"If you can be with Avery, you can be with me," he pointed out -- encouraging, not argumentative. "Besides, you've been with other people before: Nico, Sala..."

I shook my head. "It isn't the same. Even when I got together with Avery, that was over four years ago, and under particular circumstances. I have...more to lose, than I did when I was younger. And you're different from my husband, and from my ex-boyfriends."

Graham seemed to consider for a moment, then he cautiously reached for my hand where it was clasped at my knee. A terrifying thrill hit my stomach, but I let him match our palms and wrap his fingers around mine. With my hand secured in his strong yet tender grip, an even more terrifying warmth filled my chest and expanded outward until the whole universe seemed filled with lightness: vertigo and transcendence on an infinite scale.

"This isn't something you do, Julian," Graham corrected softly. "This is something we do, together. I'll be with you the whole way, and so will Avery. There aren't rules, except for ones we decide to create. So what is it you think you need to know?"

My throat had gone dry, but I didn't want this fear to keep us separated anymore. "How to...handle being so...unprotected."

He squeezed my hand supportively. "I went over this with your husband, didn't I? I've learned my lesson. I'm not going anywhere."

My head shook again. "It's not about you leaving." Not primarily, although the fact that his home was wherever the military sent him constituted its own set of risks. "It's about..." I cut off and took a steadying breath. "It's about being known. Not being able to hide. How I feel, what I want. Things my husband isn't aware of. Things I don't like about myself -- that I can't even bear to look at."

"Sweetheart..." The captain pronounced the new endearment as gently as when I used it with Avery. "I understand. You'll know all those things about me too, but we won't want to use them to hurt each other. It might happen once in a while, accidentally, or when we have an especially bad day. But mostly, it'll just mean I can take care of you." Graham looked at my face in the low lighting. "Don't you want that?"

The unknowns presented in that question went far beyond first-date jitters. I clung to his hand, feeling like a newly-assigned paratrooper ordered to jump out of a plane over enemy territory, with no map and little understanding of what the mission even was. I'd reach the ground alone, surrounded by foreign threats, navigating unfamiliar terrain with nothing but a theoretical framework for how to find my unit and accomplish our tactical goals.

Anyone with a healthy regard for their own life would experience visceral panic in that moment. Which is why paratrooper training focused so heavily on competitive camaraderie and shared identity. Refusal to make the jump would result in expulsion from the division, and that knowledge was usually enough to override the self-preservation instinct.

I faced a similar choice: take the leap with Graham, or lose my chance to be part of this unique three-person unit -- with the person I already loved most in the world, and with this man who knew my past as well as my present and was so generously offering to share my future. When I weighed those risks against each other, I knew which one to prioritize.

"I hardly know what it would be like," I told the captain, barely above a whisper. "I'm...quite unskilled...at being taken care of. I'm not like Avery: I'm not very cuddly, or very emotional. I'll need space, even on my best days. You'll still have to be patient with me." I swallowed the fear-induced saliva from my mouth. "But yes. I -- want to try."

Graham brought our hands up so he could kiss the back of mine. "I'm so glad, Julian. We're going to be so happy -- you and me and Avery. And of course, I know you and he have different personalities and ways of relating. I don't prefer one to the other. Taking care of you means figuring out what you need to feel safe and supported, which doesn't have to be what anyone else needs. And if that's more space, you can always tell me. Although," he finished with more buoyancy, "I'd love to spoon with you sometime. You can be the big spoon, since you are taller."

I had to laugh a little at his eagerness. "We'll see."

"Can I at least --?" He turned his upper body more toward me and shifted so he could lean his head on my shoulder. Then he sighed in what sounded like contentment. "Is this too much cuddling? Because I'll move if it is."

I measured his solid body against my side, his cropped hair at my neck, and his hand still pressed into mine. Strength bent to tenderness; maturity channeled into commitment. Improbably real and undeniably present. "No, it's alright."

"Just alright?" he asked, disarmingly at ease. "Not amazing and wonderful? This is already one of my new favorite memories."

Stress I hadn't realized I was still carrying drained from my muscles on the next exhale. "It is...pretty nice."

"You ol' softie," he teased fondly.

"Mm hm," I agreed in the same tone.

We stayed there for a while, talking idly, securely tethered by our joined hands and by the new definition of our relationship. When Graham left, he kissed me briefly at the door.

"You'll ask Avery about changing the rules?" he reminded meaningfully.

"Yeah. I can't guess how he'll feel, but we can at least discuss it."

"Ok. Goodnight, Julian. See you tomorrow."

"Night."

I was still lying awake, wrapped in replays and daydreams cozier than the quilt, by the time Avery got home.

* * * * *

Graham:

Over the next few days, no one re-opened the subject of adjusting our sex restrictions, so I decided to have a conversation with Avery myself. The time I'd spent alone with Julian, and the communication line we'd been able to open, had been an incredibly beneficial investment. I was eager to get some bonding in with Avery, too, now that we'd moved into what I hoped was a more secure phase of our relationship. During these last few weeks, I'd really only seen him for work and with Julian. Since he had watch duty in the evening again -- this time his scheduled rotation -- I checked the roster for his location. Spare time was hard to come by when every day was a battle for survival, so I used to join him for part of his shift sometimes, back in the summer. Once I'd wrapped up my own duties for the day, I set out on the shadowy forest path to join him.

It was still strange to think that although I'd lived and worked all over the western part of the country, from Puget Sound to California's fertile Central Valley to the deserts of Nevada, and trekked every mountain range from the Cascades to the mighty Rockies -- not to mention my journey through Fort Worth to Shreveport -- Avery had spent his entire life in the woods of Louisiana. He hadn't been more than 250 kilometers from his birthplace, whereas I was currently 3000 kilometers from mine. He'd never even laid eyes on the ocean, despite growing up in a coastal state. He knew nothing of crashing surf, towering peaks, flowing prairies, or barren rock formations, except for faded photos he'd seen in Fort Laurel's outdated library.

If a person had to confine a lifetime to one region, though, the Piney Woods were a solid choice. The ecosystem was deceptively diverse, interspersing evergreens with oaks, gums, and shorter flowering species. The trees were cut by a network of streams and bayous draining into the nearby Mississippi, mixing wetland diversity into the upland forests. Although many of the trees and shrubs were leafless now, plenty were not. When I'd first arrived here in early summer, the towering trunks had anchored a stunning tapestry fluttering with a million overlapping shades of green, which shifted as the sun moved through the sky, from pale spring tones in the morning to deeper emerald shades in the evening. A limitless palette of natural splendor.

At this hour, the forest canopy was silhouetted against the star-studded backdrop of space, and only the faintest hint of texture was visible by the waxing gibbous moon. It was a decent walk to Avery's post tonight, above the mostly-empty creek bed to the south. I called for him when I got close so he wouldn't be alarmed, then I approached the ladder to the platform where he was perched in one of the older trees.

"What's wrong?" the Avery-shaped outline above me asked with anxious urgency. Despite the work I knew he'd done over the years to counter his trauma-ingrained tendencies, worry still usually seemed to be the first place he went when anything out of the ordinary happened.

"Nothing," I assured him. "Just thought you might like some company."

"Ok," he conceded, so I grabbed the wooden hand-holds and started the climb up.

Once I'd emerged on his level, the low-contrast moonlight didn't show much of his expression, but his body language seemed wary, like he was still waiting for me to announce that someone had died.

"Avery, really -- nothing's wrong. I'm only here to see you."

His reply sounded suspicious. "Kind of a hike just for that, when you already saw me earlier."

"Well earlier, there were other people around. I wanted to see you."

There was a pause before he answered, much less enthused than I'd expected. "I'm only on until midnight. You could have come over when I got back."

It hadn't occurred to me that the lack of one-on-one time since I rejoined the relationship might have been intentional. "If you're not comfortable with me being here, I can see you later instead," I offered. "Or tomorrow. Not a problem."

It looked like he shrugged in the dark. "It's fine."

"It's alright if it's not. I know this is still new. I didn't mean to catch you off guard."

"I just...wasn't expecting you."

"I'll make sure to give you a heads up next time," I promised, feeling bad for accidentally causing him any amount of distress.

"No, it's fine. Sorry."

I stepped over, careful not to startle him, and laid a reassuring hand at his shoulder. "No reason for you to be sorry, little one."

He let me move in for a kiss, and I made sure to keep it brief.

"So how's it going?" I asked, settling at one end of the small platform so I could help keep an eye out for danger.

He sat cross-legged as well, hips parallel to mine but facing the opposite direction so we could see each other and the forest at the same time. "Nothing exciting so far. Which is the goal, I guess."

"Rae wanted to make sure I reminded you about the card game tomorrow, since we had to reschedule. She had a lot of fun with you last week."

There was a hint of smile in his reply. "Yeah. Me too."

"Will Rowan be able to make it?"

"She's got a patient she expects to go into labor anytime, but she would probably only get involved if there was a serious enough complication to interest her. Emma can deliver most babies, and Vik usually handles the rest."

"You talk to him lately?" I asked, curious. I hadn't spent a ton of time with the doctor; just a few group expeditions I'd joined with Julian and Avery, and the occasional chat at dinner or community events. Vik was clearly a caring person and provided a crucial service for the community, but I didn't feel any particular connection with him, other than my gratitude that he'd paved the way for me. Still, I was rather fascinated by his former and ongoing relationships with my two partners, especially Avery. It seemed surprising they'd shared the strong chemistry I'd heard so much about, given how different Vik was from me.

I knew he and Avery had remained close friends, and I imagined I'd been the subject of several discussions by now. Would have given a lot to be a fly on the wall for those. As open as Avery was with his physical affection, verbal communication continued to be much less abundant.

"Uh, not a lot," he said. "Been pretty busy with you."

I knew I was being nosy, but I asked anyway. "He take the news ok, about us getting together?"

Avery sounded self-conscious again. "Yeah -- why wouldn't he?"

I shrugged. "It just sounded like, from what you've said, he might have wanted the kind of relationship we have, but you and Julian didn't reciprocate. So I didn't know if Vik might...resent me."

"He's really not a resentful type of person. And he and Gavin are like soulmates, so there would be nothing to resent." There was a brief pause. "He's happy for me, and for Julian. I'm sure he's happy for you too."

"Ok. Good." I still wondered if there might be more to the story, but either Avery was oblivious to it, or he was protecting Vik's privacy, which he had every right to do.

It was quiet for a moment -- the kind of deep silence you only get in the middle of nowhere, away from people and livestock and machines. Even the insects had nothing to say, at this time of year.

I opened my mouth to start another sentence, but Avery spoke at the same time.

"You might as well just say why you're here."

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused by his accusatory tone.

"I know you didn't come all this way, during the only time I would be alone, just to make small talk."

"Ok..." I didn't understand why he seemed offended. "I did want to ask you about something."

"So ask me," he insisted when I didn't proceed.

Maybe surprising him at his post hadn't been a great idea. I looked at him for a moment, but with nothing brighter than the moonlight, I couldn't see enough to clue me in.

"I was going to ask if Julian talked to you about changing our rules for sex...but it seems like you already know that."

"He talked to me," was the uninformative response.

"Look, if you'd rather not discuss this, we don't have to. I just thought it would be helpful for me to hear your thoughts. It's fine, whatever they are."

There was still an unfriendly edge to his voice. "You could have said something when the three of us were at home last night."

"You could have too. Either of you."

"But we didn't, so you decided to ambush me out here?"

I abandoned my watch for enemies in the forest and turned to face my inexplicably belligerent boyfriend. "Avery, what is going on? I wasn't trying to ambush you. I've hung out with you on duty before, and you didn't have an issue then. Why are you angry with me? You know how much I care about you; I obviously wouldn't do anything on purpose to upset you. Can we please take this down a notch, and you can explain what I've done wrong?"

In the silence that followed, I heard Avery pull in and release an intentional breath, then a second.

"Sorry," he said for the second time in ten minutes. "I guess this subject...and you showing up like this...brought up some stuff."

I made my voice calmer. "Usually we've been able to talk about sex pretty easily. I wouldn't have raised the question, and definitely not in this context, if I'd realized it would be a problem. So I'm sorry I didn't plan better for that possibility."

His only response was another slow release of his lungs, an apparent attempt to restore equilibrium.

"Would you be able to tell me what bothers you about this? I'd like to understand, so we can work it out."

It took a minute, and though he spoke hesitantly, I was encouraged that he decided to answer.

"I kind of...have a thing about...worrying that someone only wants me for sex." I was still trying to figure out how that connected when he went on. "With the three of us, it never really seemed like that, but when Julian told me you wanted to change the rule, it made me think maybe it was more about sex after all."

I wanted immediately to relieve his concern, but he didn't seem finished speaking, so I forced myself to patience.

"And then you show up here, saying you want to hang out with me, when actually you had a different reason -- to corner me away from Julian, to convince me to let you have sex with us whenever you want..." The wounded, guarded edge to his voice hit me like a gut punch. "Feels like you're just trying to get something from me."

"Baby, I'm so sorry," I told him passionately, feeling horrible that I'd somehow managed to come across as a coercive creep, especially to someone whose well-being meant so much to me. "That wasn't my goal at all. When I hung out alone with Julian the other night, it really helped us, so I thought it might be good for you and me too. I wanted to talk with you about the sex rules, but only to have a discussion and see how you felt. Not to get you to agree to anything. I was trying to avoid making you think I was just here for one reason. Clearly I messed it up."

Avery wasn't looking at me, not that the darkness would have let me see much if he were. I wanted so badly to gather him into my arms, but I couldn't until I fixed this.

"I would have hoped you knew this already," I told him. "But let me say it anyway: I would never want anything from you that I had to get by manipulating you in any way. Especially when it comes to sex. No one wants you to do anything until you're ready. And again, I am very sorry I made you feel that way."

His face turned toward me finally, and to my great relief, when I held out an arm, he accepted the offer of my embrace.

"I'm sorry, Avery," I repeated more softly, caressing my palm between his shoulder blades while his head rested against mine. "I love you. I would still love you if you never had sex with me again."

He swallowed hard, and then I heard the miraculous whisper for the first time. "I love you too."

I held him tightly, overwhelmed by his willingness to offer me the infinitely precious gift of his heart. I would have done anything at that moment to protect him from whatever experiences had seeded these fears. I knew it was unrealistic to think I could completely avoid causing him pain as we grew in this relationship together. There would be too much I didn't know, or wasn't careful enough about. But I was going to try my damnedest.

Eventually he sighed and straightened, but he didn't move from beside me, so I kept one hand at his lean back.

"I'm really sorry I disrupted your night," I felt compelled to tell him again. "I had no idea the conversation would go like this."

Blessedly, Avery nudged my shoulder and almost smiled. "You can stop apologizing, Graham. I'm ok."

It was a relief to hear him say my name. I still felt I hadn't adequately expressed my remorse, but I quelled the impulse. "Ok."

I waited to see if he wanted to address the original question, and after a minute he did.

"I don't think I'm ready to changes the rules yet," he confessed quietly. "It doesn't really make sense, because we've already had sex tons of times, and I -- we --" He stopped, maybe to avoid saying the L-word again. "I know we're...together. It just feels different, for us to be alone."

That was disappointing, but I could see why it might feel too soon, when our relationship had only been official for a few weeks. Especially after what had just happened. Laying more groundwork was probably smart.

"I understand," I told him. "Thank you for telling me. You're the only one who knows what's right for you. We can always talk more about it, whenever you want."

He didn't say anything, so I gave his back more affectionate caresses.

"Can I ask -- is that also how you feel about me and Julian being alone?"

"I'm...not sure, about that." I remained quiet until he went on. "I used to be paranoid about him leaving me for Vik, and that was before I even knew Vik had literally propositioned him. When we started hooking up, Julian was super careful at first, to avoid even touching Vik, so I wouldn't have a reason to worry, but I still ended up having a meltdown about it."