Finally, He Touches Me Pt. 05

Note to the editor: There are italics in this story that I'd like to be retained. Thank you!                           

A Message from Lana:

So, our guys have a few things to work out in this part...things always get more complicated when you start talking, am I right? Because of that, it is a longer than the previous ones, but don't worry, makeup sex is always the best. (Spoiler alert).

Also, I apologize for lying about Part 4 being the last part. Apparently, I underestimated how much people want to see a good healthy relationship, so I've decided to continue this series since now there is a whole base (if not a whole world) for the guys to discover! I hope everyone enjoys this new installment and is rooting for these boys as much as I am.

Keep an eye out for part 5, which WILL happen, even though it may take some time to fit it in with my other projects.

1. Sam

The next thing Sam knew, he and Trent were sitting in JR's office, the older man scowling at them from across the desk. He hadn't spoken to either of the young men during their awkward redressing session or the slow walk down the corridors, but Sam was nervous. It was no secret that JR was the compound's resident slut, so his dramatic reaction seemed a bit out of character.

Though...the man had known Sam's father, so maybe that's why it felt so awkward. He blushed at the thought. Thankfully, his dad wasn't alive to see this.

"JR I--" Sam began, casting a nervous eye at Trent. But the man held up his hand.

"Save it," he interrupted. "I've heard all the excuses. Hell I've used many of them, myself."

Sam swallowed hard. Then why are we here? He thought.

"But seriously," JR continued, "The kitchen?"

"C'mon, JR," Sam scoffed, even as he watched Trent blush further and look away. "I'm sure you've done it in weirder places." He gave the man a challenging stare. If he'd learned anything in his years working with JR, it was that the best defense against him was over-confidence.

"Well there was that one time on the Great Wall, overlooking the lights of Huariou..." JR began, gazing into the dimness wistfully. The he returned Sam's scowl, "But that's not the point. Point is...you got caught."

"Psh," Sam taunted, "And you haven't...?"

JR frowned, but before he could reply, a new voice sounded behind them. One Sam was none-too-happy to hear.

"JR, you'd better have a good reason why you pulled me off watch. I had to wake up Hawk and he was not hap--"

Sam's eyes met with the woman's, and he shrank. Why did JR have to bring Mara into this? She'd taken him in as a teenage runaway and cared for him better than his own mother. And no one wanted to have this kind of conversation with their mother.

"Sam? Trent?" she said, tone changing and brow furrowing in concern. "Is something wrong?" She turned to JR.

"I found these two..." JR said, pushing his hands together twice and when Mara raised an eyebrow in confusion, he made a face as if he'd swallowed something sour and continued, "Fucking...in the kitchen."

"Okay...?" Mara frowned, but she didn't seem angry. Sam hoped that was a good sign. She looked at Sam. "Was it fun?"

"Um...what?" Was it fun? He wanted to shrink even more as he grew hot to his hairline and the tips of his ears. Of course, it was fun, but he didn't want to tell Mara that. He looked at Trent, but his friend was just hunched in on himself, refusing to stare anywhere besides his knees. "Yes?" Sam finally muttered when he realized Trent would be of no help.

"Mmm-hmm," she grunted, studying the two for a moment. "Good."

"What the hell, Mara!?" JR interjected, "You aren't nearly as appalled by this as you should be. The kitchen!"

She snorted, casting her dark gaze back over the older man. "You can't tell me you've never fucked in a kitchen," she said, "Hell, I bet you can't even tell me you've never fucked in that kitchen!"

"I--" JR began, "That doesn't matter. They're kids, Mara. You're responsible for them."

The woman chuckled, leaning against the desk which creaked under her weight. "No, JR, you're getting old. Sam, you turned eighteen a few months ago, right?"

"Seven months," Sam muttered, "And Trent's twenty."

Mara nodded, gesturing at the two of them. "See? Not kids."

"But..." JR pressed, though some of the fire had drained from his voice, "You're just going to let this slide?"

She laughed again, "Are you mad because it wasn't you who was caught balls-deep in a lover, Mr. Casanova?"

The heat in Sam's cheeks threatened to burn his face off, but it also made him smile. He hadn't seen JR this flustered in...well...ever.

JR stammered, clearly now also embarrassed. "No, it's just...they're so...young."

"Not really, JR," Mara said, the only emotion in her voice mild amusement, "How old were you when you first had sex?"

"Yeah, we're not gonna talk about that," JR said, scowl returning.

"I rest my case," Mara chuckled again, then turned to Sam, "How long's this been going on?"

"Couple weeks..." he answered reluctantly.

"A month," Trent corrected with a small triumphant smile.

"Does General Qian know?"

"I don't see how it's any of his business," Sam said, wincing at the mention of the general.

"Good," she sighed, "Make sure it stays that way. The general will make something his business if he thinks it endangers the mission."

"Does it?"

Mara shrugged, "Not if you don't let it." She exchanged a look with JR who seemed to have lost some of his initial fire. "But maybe be a bit more discrete," she said, with half a scowl directed at JR. "I don't really need a riled-up officer pulling me from my duties to reprimand two lust-struck young men. Got it?"

"Got it," Sam choked, and Trent nodded, his dark hair flopping in front of his face.

"Now, you'd better get back to whatever duties you were shirking in the kitchen before someone decides to write you up," she said with a smile, giving Sam a friendly squeeze on the shoulder.

"Yes, Sir. I mean ma'am...I mean...okay, Mara," Sam stammered, standing up so quickly his prosthetic leg got tangled around the chair and he tipped it. "Th-thank you."

"I'll help!" Trent said. He raced in front of Sam, heading for the kitchen.

The only thing that followed them out was more of Mara's amused laughter.

#

2. Trent

The two finished up the dishes in silence, though Trent kept flicking a longing eye toward the counter where they'd had their last encounter. On the one hand, he was secretly proud to have thrown JR for a loop. It was rare to see the playboy so far off his game. But on the other...he shuddered. Why did they have to have gotten caught?

"A month," Sam muttered as he dropped the last dish into the drying rack. "Way to nitpick."

"What?" Trent replied, "It's true!"

They made their way from the kitchen. Trent was itchy from the dust and dried sweat on his arms and chest, while other places felt too slippery.

"I told you we needed to talk about it," he continued.

Sam stopped and whirled at him. "Then let's talk about it," he said.

"Here?" Trent asked, looking up and down the halls. Judging from the steady stream of people, he guessed the guard was changing.

"Why not?" Sam pulled him into a corner, "You've only been talking about it all night. What's your problem?"

Trent sighed. "Fine. Sam I--" his throat caught as he watched Sam's intense gaze. The slight impatient scowl made him look far older than his eighteen years. And somehow--even handsomer. "I don't understand how you're not utterly mortified by what happened."

"What the sex?"

"Shh!" Trent snapped, dragging Sam the rest of the way to their room. "We don't need the whole base to know!"

Sam snorted once they'd entered. "Who cares? It's just sex," he said, though the pink tinge on his cheeks belied Sam's overconfidence.

That was the other part of Trent's problem.

"Just sex?" he asked with a frown, "Didn't seem like JR thought it was 'just sex'." And to be honest, Trent hadn't either. To him, it had been more than that. "He was pretty pissed," he finished lamely, still unsure how to bring his feelings up to Sam.

"Psh," Sam said, "He was just jealous it wasn't him."

That caught Trent off guard. "What?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Sam asked, striking a pose by puffing out his chest and placing one hand on his hip, "He wants me."

Now that really caught Trent off guard. "You can't be serious," he said, "JR's like old and stuff."

"Eh, maybe like forty. It's not that old...besides, I've seen the way he looks at me," Sam said. Did his friend actually sound...proud? "You know, actually, maybe I should--"

"No!" Trent shouted before Sam could finish the thought.

It was Sam's turn to frown. "I bet he could teach me some things."

Thoughts raced through Trent's head, sending him reeling. He staggered against a wall, shock piling atop exhaustion from his recent flight. "Wait...you're actually considering it?"

"Why not? He might be the most experienced person on the base. And," he moved toward to Trent, their faces inches from each other, "We're both pretty new at this."

Despite the intoxicating feeling of Sam's breath brushing over Trent's cheeks, he pulled away. This was not what he'd wanted to talk about. "Again, he's old!" Trent snapped.

"Experienced," Sam retorted.

"Old!"

"Competent."

"OLD!"

"And still not bad looking..."

Trent glared and Sam put a hand on the wall next to him, bringing his body in even closer.

"I want to learn more...for you," Sam said with a wink.

That was the last straw. "You're unbelievable!" Trent snapped, ducking under Sam's arm. This was not what love was supposed to look like--his da had taught him that much. "Here I was thinking we had something special, but all you wanna do is fuck around."

"But we do--" Sam turned, his green eyes wide and expression genuinely confused. His face reminded Trent of a disobedient puppy. He wanted so badly to take that face and kiss it--or slap it--if only that could make everything better. "I just--I'm eighteen, can't you understand...?

"No," Trent huffed. "I'm gonna go take a shower." He pulled out a handful of clean sweats from his trunk.

"Trent!" Sam grabbed his arm looking completely hurt, "What--"

"I want you," Trent replied before he could think. The words poured out of him, "From the first time this started, hell....since...ever....I've wanted you. I want to explore with you. Be your boyfriend. I want us to--I want us."

Sam's mouth dropped open and Trent felt his cheeks burn once again. He waited to see what Sam had to say, but after several awkward moments of stammering, the best his friend could produce was, "Trent, I'm eighteen."

"I'm done!" He yanked his arm from Sam's grip and stormed from the room with hot, angry tears streaming down his cheeks.

#

3. Sam

"Fuck," Sam muttered, pressing his forehead against the closed door. He was equal parts frustrated and shattered at Trent's reaction. How could his friend expect anything when they'd only been fooling around for a month? Yes, Trent was dear to him. In fact, Sam had grown closer to no other person, besides maybe Mara...but again...she was like a mom.

And Trent had been like a brother--a very attractive, sweet, sexy brother. The kind you don't mind fucking because they're not related to you. The kind that knew Sam better than anyone. And he'd just gone and screwed that up.

The doorbell buzzer startled him, and he straightened with a jolt. Through the peephole he could see it was Mara and he instantly began blushing again. Cautiously, he opened the door.

"Um, hey?" he said, scuffing the toe of his boot across the floor.

"Came to see if you guys were okay," Mara said, "JR can be--a bit much."

Sam snorted in agreement.

"But then I saw Trent stomping down the hallway like it was his job..."

Sam sighed. "I fucked up," he said before he could stop himself. He didn't really want to talk about his relationship problems with Mara but, then again, he had to talk to somebody. And he sure as hell wasn't going to go find JR. "I think Trent's mad at me."

"Even a blind person can see that," Mara scoffed, giving Sam's arm a gentle squeeze. "This sounds like the kind of conversation that's best had over a beer and since I gave up the rest of my shift anyway...C'mon..."

Dutifully Sam followed, feeling super awkward. He knew the officers kept beer in their lounge--he and Trent had even stolen some once--but the realization had begun sinking in that he was about to have his first real, adult conversation with his mentor. Over a beer. Like real adults.

He wasn't ready.

Mara pulled two beers from a cooler and led him to one of the three tables in the lounge. Without a word, she cracked the caps off with her bare hand, tossing them toward an empty garbage can. If he'd been anyone else, Sam may have worried that the causal display of strength was a veiled threat--or at least a warning, however Mara wouldn't do that to him. They'd been through too much together.

She slid a beer across the table. "So, tell me, why's Trent mad? Is it 'cause you got caught?"

He shook his head, then shrugged. "No? Maybe? Might be part of it..." He took a sip from the bottle. The bitter, carbonated liquid slid down his throat and he tried not to gag. Beer wasn't really his favorite, but for the privilege of being offered anything alcohol-related, (normally only the officers were permitted to drink, and their supply was limited anyway) he'd choke it down all the same.

Mara sipped her beer without responding, waiting for him to swig a few more mouthfuls as he tried to figure out how to ask what he really wanted to ask. When no good way presented itself, he just blurted out, "How many people have you fucked?"

His mentor made a face and tried not to spit beer, though whether she was about to laugh or scream at him, Sam couldn't tell. Once she swallowed, she bellowed, slamming the empty beer bottle down on the table.

Laughing. Okay, laughing's good...he thought, though he didn't understand why that question was so funny. "What?" he asked.

She finally finished with heaving breaths and gasped at him. "Do you really want to know the answer?"

Sam shrugged. Maybe it would give him some perspective. He knew Mara had loved his father during the war that killed him, before Sam was even born, and he'd also seen her flirt with JR and Clark, so he knew the number was at least three.

"I've lost count," she answered frankly, her expression neutral, "More than you and less than JR."

Sam sighed. That went about how he expected it would go. "Do you recommend it?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Sex? Yeah."

"No, fucking around."

She laughed again, though this time not as hard. "Sure. As long as you're safe...and honest."

Sam nodded.

"Though, you probably won't listen to that. No one ever does," she chuckled again, but now it sounded harsh and humorless.

"But Trent..." he tried again, but the words died on his lips. He looked at the table and his half-finished beer.

"Doesn't want you to fuck around," Mara finished for him.

He looked up, startled.

"What? I wasn't born yesterday. I know what it's like to be young and in love."

Sam noticed the L-word and winced. That hit a little too close to home. "Yeah," he mumbled.

"Let me tell you something," she said, leaning in and resting on her elbows. "I was 19 when I met your dad, and dumb. He was a bit older, but still equally as dumb--maybe dumber. We were in China, two continents away from everyone we knew...away from his family. He was my superior officer. We didn't use protection. It was a mess."

Sam's eyes went wide as he tried not to cringe at the thought of Mara and his dad--all this while his mom was in America, pregnant with him.

"But it was a beautiful mess," she continued, "And we got damn lucky. Well, aside from the part where he died." She sighed for a moment, her expression turning into the kind people get when imagining an idealized past. "For a long time after his death, for years, I refused to move on, thinking he was my one and only."

Sam frowned. He didn't like where this was going. "Was he?"

"Hell no!" She snorted and rose to get another beer, placing three on the table. "I loved him then and still do, but there are others out there. They'll give you different things. You'll learn from them. You'll grow. And there's nothing wrong with wanting that."

"So, you're actually saying I should fuck around?" This conversation had gone a full-360 and Sam's head was reeling. Mara was actually serious. He gulped his beer.

"Yes," Mara said, "But be safe and honest," she repeated her earlier statement.

"But what about Trent?" he asked. His heart felt trapped in his chest, both racing in excitement and contracting with guilt. He didn't want to hurt Trent, but also...other experiences. He felt a tingle between his legs.

"What about Trent?" Mara echoed quietly, rubbing her forehead. After a long moment, she looked back up. "Be honest with him."

Sam raised his eyebrows.

"Unlike many of us, he grew up with much more romanticized ideals. You can blame his father for that. Quentin was always a hopeless romantic. But, he deserves to know the truth. No jerking him around. No evading the subject. Just," she paused here, dark eyes boring into him, utterly serious, "Honesty."

Honesty--something Sam hadn't been very good at lately. Mentally he kicked himself for his stupidity. "And that'll work?"

Mara shrugged, "He may not understand it or accept it. Then...you need to make a choice."

Sam gave a defeated sigh. That's what he was worried about. He didn't want to have to make that choice.

Noticing his down-turned expression, Mara shrugged and her eyes glittered. "Or he may secretly find it hot, but just needs someone else to say it. He's a smart young man and eager to learn." She winked.

Sam responded by instinct with a dramatic gagging noise, and she chuckled.

"Feel better?" she asked.

"I guess," Sam mumbled. "I guess he and I have some things to talk about."

Mara nodded. "Do it now, before things get worse," she advised, pushing the two unopened beer bottles toward Sam. This time, she included a church key. "These may help."

Sam gave a weak smile and rose on shaky legs. He took the bottles his mind reeling. Maybe Trent will find it hot, he thought hopefully. "Thanks, Mara," he said, giving her a one-armed hug.

"Don't mention it," she replied and when Sam gave her grave tone a questioning look, she elaborated. "Seriously, don't mention it to anyone. If people on this base knew I gave relationship advice, these perverts would never leave me alone!"

Sam snickered and nodded, wishing her a good night.

"Remember!" she called after him, "Honesty and safety!"

He gave an exasperated shake of his head. I guess she wouldn't be my guardian if she didn't warn me about safety seventeen times...he thought.

#

4. Trent

"Hey."

Trent ignored Sam's greeting. He was curled up facing the wall, trying to sleep. The shower hadn't made his frustrations any lighter and, if anything, coming back to see Sam gone only aggravated Trent's feelings of distrust. He wore only his boxer-briefs and had the cover loosely draped over his legs in the still-warm room.

Something cold touched the small of his back and he jumped with a gasp. Turning around he saw Sam holding two beers with that infuriatingly cute lopsided grin on his face. He held up the church key in his other hand. "I brought a peace offering," he said. "I'm sorry."