Halos and Heroes Ch. 10

Thank you all who have been reading and following along. I always appreciate getting feedback. It helps with becoming a better writer and it's always an ego boost, so feel free to reach out. I will always respond!

The usual spiel: This isn't a stroke story, (more porn with plot.) Be warned, it's very long. 33+ chapters, and many sexless ones to come before it gets sexy, which is why it was originally published under novels/novellas, but readers asked for it to be put under gay male due to content, so here we go.

This book is dedicated to all of the brave service members and their families who sacrifice so much every day so that the rest of us can enjoy the liberties that they swear to protect and uphold.

Although references in this novel may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are complete works of fiction. They are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental. In an effort to do the United States Army justice, and to show my respect to my country, I have applied all possible efforts to merge fact and fiction to entertain, while portraying the military, and the hardships and achievements of soldiers, with respect, dignity and accuracy to the best of my abilities. It's my hope that I've done you all justice, and that all of the creative licenses taken with this novel are understood to be the efforts of imagination, and not any judgment or disrespect against the U.S. military. Thank you all for your service.

***

The man who says he is willing to meet you halfway is usually a poor judge of distance.

—Author Unknown

The gentleness of Ben's kiss surprised me. Not that I expected aggression from a priest, but he was going so slow, giving me the chance to backpedal. When I didn't move, his hand slid up to cup my face, his thumb rubbing along the sensitive skin just below my jawline. Calloused fingertips traced the contours of my mouth, pressing until I opened for him. His tongue slid slowly against mine, more request than demand.

A hand slid down my body, but instead of moving to my fly or under my shirt, Ben's strong arm encircled my waist. His free hand rested on the wall, and I shifted my balance, allowing him to sink deeper into the embrace without us falling over. This unhurried exploration was a luxury I hadn't had in a long time. Necessary discretion in the military hadn't allowed me many opportunities to make out with anyone like a horny teenager.

I allowed myself to enjoy the heat building between us, getting lost in the scent of his cologne and the cinnamon candy on his tongue. Never in my life had I been so turned on, and this was just a kiss. All I wanted was to lay Ben down and worship him inch by inch.

Ben broke contact first. His forehead rested against mine for a minute, both hands rising to rest on either side of my throat. "As much as I hate to say it, this isn't happening tonight," he breathed against my pulse with a huff of laughter. "Your face is the color of cement, you're covered in blood, and just a general hot mess."

My ears heated. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I've been there," he said with a smile. "The bathroom is through there. Toilet was just cleaned, so feel free to hang your head if you have to throw up again." He held onto me with one arm when I swayed. "How much did you drink?"

"A lot. The bartender wanted to get into my pants."

Ben smirked. "Ah, so she plied you with booze, expecting to get you flat on your back in her bed. Bet she never saw my couch coming into that equation."

"I never saw it coming. Why do I get the couch? Isn't it customary that a guest gets the bed?"

"Since I'm going to be in the bed, that's a negative."

"Thought you wanted to hear my confession," I said with what I hoped was a sexy smile and not a drunken grimace. "I'll even do it properly."

Ben yanked me up before my knees could touch the carpet. "Hello! The only place you're going is to the couch."

When his hands went to the waistband of my jeans, I blinked. My dick thought this was an amazing play, but I was confused. "I thought you didn't want to fuck."

Ben looked amused. "A) I said we're not going to, not that I don't want to. B) You're too trashed to be trusted alone in the shower and, no, I'm not getting in there with you. And, C) Sitting on my clean couch in those clothes isn't even an option. So let's lose the shirt, socks and shoes, and you can just relax while I brew some espresso."

Ignoring all further protest from me, Ben maneuvered my arms to pull my tee shirt up and over my head like I was a kid, discarding it in a rumpled heap on the floor. "Sit."

The numbness that inevitably followed an alcoholic induced happy stint was starting to set in, so I obeyed, flopping heavily onto the couch.

Though it was comfortable, I was still thinking of ways that I could make the transition from it to Ben's bed until he reappeared in the doorway as the scent of fresh coffee wafted over to me a few moments later; rich and robust, guaranteed to wash away the sins of inebriated stupidity.

"Here," Ben said as he offered me a mug of black coffee. The dark blue enamel was decorated with flying pigs.

"Thanks. Look... are you sure it's ok that I'm here right now? It's late and you probably have other shit to do..."

"Don't worry, Sam. I don't have plans with anyone else. Not tonight." He grinned, reading the flicker of unexpected jealousy in my eyes. I knew better than to ask, but my tongue betrayed me, lack of common sense amplified by the alcohol.

"Not tonight huh? You have a full little black book?"

"I'm a priestnow, Sam." Ben's smile was slow and lazy, and would've knocked my knees out from under me if I wasn't already sitting down. "But this isn't the only collar I've ever worn in my life..."

His grin deepened as he allowed that to sink in and explode my brain withwhat-the-fucks.

"I'm going to take a shower," Ben said as he set a coaster down on the coffee table. "Stay here. "Drink that. Sober up. I'll be quick."

The thought of Ben in the shower did more to sober me than the strong espresso. I wanted to be as alert as possible to imagine the play of water over his skin, creating little waterfalls where it slid down the small of his back to the cleft of his ass...

"Falling asleep on me?"

Ben was standing in in the doorway with one shoulder pressed snug against the doorframe when I opened eyes I didn't remember closing.

"No, just coming back to earth. Do you mind if I take a shower now?" I grimaced as I looked down at myself. "I promise not to break my neck."

I pushed myself to my feet. When I swayed, Ben was there to steady me.

"Be warned the pipes are old, so the temperature fluctuates," Ben said as he let go of me long enough to get the water running.

"But it's an up and coming neighborhood."

My snark earned me a splash of water in the face, but I couldn't really complain. Not when Ben wiped his hands dry on his white tee shirt and the fabric turned translucent. His nipples were little brown nubs, abs tight and sleek. It was doubtful he'd done it on purpose, but the effect on my dick was still the same. "Shut up," I told it under my breath, taming it with a dose of icy water before I could get any ideas that would get me into more trouble. I thought I heard Ben's soft laughter when I hissed, but after I dunked my head under the spray, I didn't hear anything.

My shower wasn't long. The water temperature proved as unreliable as Ben had warned. The upside was that the alternating shots of hot and cold helped clear my head. When I finally emerged, shivering and blotchy, I felt normal, aside from the killer headache already forming.

On the edge of the sink I found a new toothbrush in its wrapper and a clean set of clothing that was tight on me, so obviously his and not anything that had belonged to one of those 'other men,' he'd mentioned. I didn't like the relief I felt.

Ben seemed like a nice guy and my dick thought he was especially amazing, but I wasn't the kind of man who'd ever appreciated a nice guy other than Max. Since my best friend had always made it clear he wasn't even a fleeting option for a long-term relationship, I'd gone for what was easy.

Give me your liars, your cheaters, your closet cases yearning to breathe free... Not quite the words Lady Liberty embodied, but they worked for me. They kept a nice safe distance between the Sam who gave a shit, and the one who'd have to pick up the pieces when his hopes crumbled into dust. Getting involved with a priest would be the crown jewel of bad decisions that I'd made in my life, my involvement with Devlin among those. Men like Ben didn't do casual, and that was all I could give. Meeting my tired eyes in the fogged mirror, I reminded myself of that nine times.

"You look better," Ben said as I emerged. "How do you feel?"

He gestured me into the open kitchen area, pushing a bar stool toward me with his foot. A second cup of coffee found its way to my side when I sat down. I took a sip without looking at it, and gagged when liquid sweetened enough to inspire a sugar coma hit my tongue.

Ben grinned at me. "Not a café con leche fan?"

"If that means drinking a drop of coffee with my sugar, no. I prefer it black."

"Sorry. I gave you the first one black to sober you up, but when I was pouring these cups, I went on autopilot. I like it light and sweet."

There were so many places I could take that, but I bit my tongue and dealt with the coffee and the two aspirin Ben held out to me.

"Thanks," I said, washing down the medicine first before I continued. "I'm all right. Worn out."

"I believe it. You've had a long day. How are your hands? Do you need new gauze?"

"No, they're okay." I held them up so he could see. "Not even bleeding anymore." I paused. "Look, I'm sorry about before."

"Why?"

"I was out of line. I shouldn't have made a pass like that. You put yourself out there for me, twice. This isn't how I usually repay debts, so I'm sorry."

"Technically I kissed you," he said. "So how about we consider this the action of a friend instead of a debt?" He smiled. "Sam, I didn't turn you down because I don't want you." Those warm eyes met mine. "You're sexy, intelligent, and you look good in a uniform. What's not to like?" he said with another smile. "But if we make love, I expect you to remember it in the morning."

That calm, rational explanation stung my pride more than a flat-out rejection. I bristled, going for self-preservation. "And men like you don't do casual."

"Men like me?"

"Someone who believes in monogamy and the long term."

Ben snorted. "I think we passed the casual stage the second time I had to scrape you off the floor."

His gaze followed me when I got up and started moving around his kitchen. I paced when I was nervous. "You don't sleep around," I amended.

"No, I don't. Do you?"

"I take what I can get when I can. The military isn't exactly open season for a gay man."

"The same could be said for the priesthood, though that's not why I choose to be selective."

"Picky people end up alone."

"And men who sleep around end up with crotch rot."

"My pizzle stick is in prime condition, handsome. Want to see?"

Ben laughed and added another heaping spoonful of sugar to his coffee mug like he didn't fear the dentist. "I'm sure that it is, but I'm still not going to sleep with you."

"Tonight," I corrected. "You weren't going to sleep with me tonight because of a minor inebriation issue. Tomorrow is a new day." I crooked a finger at him. "If you're already in bed with me, logistics get easier."

Ben smiled, but didn't move.

"No? What else are we going to do all night then?"

"Do you know what the name Samuel means? It's Hebrew, from the Old Testament," he enlightened me when I didn't respond. "Samuel was the prophet who anointed Saul and David as kings of Israel. All of the translations, name of God, asked of God, heard by God, mean the same thing...God chose Samuel as His voice."

I shrugged, though I was more interested than I let on. Like all kids growing up in Irish Catholic families of my day, CCD had been a part of my life. But it'd been years since my communion and confirmation. Bible stories were hazy around the edges, so I took the defensive.

"Do you think I'm supposed to have long, soulful conversations with God? Maybe throw in a walk on the beach?"

It was easy to give Ben credit for patience. Instead of slapping me upside the head as I no doubt deserved, he continued. "I always think of Samuel as a soldier—someone with the courage to not only hear, but also to carry out God's plan."

My eyebrow cocked and held. "And what exactly would that plan be?"

"I don't know. A chance to give your head and heart a chance to heal? Maybe to unite you and your family again, allowing you to pick up some of the broken pieces Connor left behind."

"My brother was killed in action. Are you saying God wanted that to happen?"

"No." Ben's voice was firm, his gaze steady when I tried to make him look away first. "Sam, I don't know why it was Connor and not you, or why it's ever anyone." Ben's voice gentled. "God works in ways that we don't always understand. It wasn't your fault you survived the things thrown at you and Connor didn't. It was just something in His plan, like your returning to Florida is."

"I came because I had to," I argued. "My family needed me."

"They needed you before," he said, not backing down. "Where were you then?"

"Out saving the goddamned world."

Ben stood immediately, reaching out a hand to stop me. "Sam, wait. That came out wrong. I'm not judging you."

"Like hell you're not. Do you really think I wanted any of this to happen? If I could take it all back, I would. But I can't." My voice raised and every muscle in my body tensed, including my fists at my side. "Connor is dead. His family's a mess. I'm a mess. And I don't know how to fix any of it. But that's on me, not some all mighty deity."

Ben sighed. "Ok, this is going sideways. I'm honestly not judging you, Sam. I just believe that God has a plan for everyone, even when the plans seem to suck at first."

"Well I don't give a fuck what you believe."

"I don't buy that."

We glared at one another like two children for all of thirty seconds before I backed down. I was bigger and stronger, but Ben seemed like the scrappy kind, and I didn't want to risk an altercation when I was drunk and he had the angels on high on his side.

Ignoring all etiquette about smoking in other people's homes, I stalked into the living room and pulled out the lone pack of cigarettes that'd made it out of the bar after my drunken interlude. I had one lit before Ben could protest. Out of a sense of propriety, I offered the cigarette to him. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, just long enough to grant me a perverse sense of satisfaction. He was human after all.

"I quit a long time ago. I prefer not to choke on myself."

"No worse than garlic breath," I said taking another hit.

"I'd suck a garlic clove before I'd kiss an ashtray."

My lips twitched, but I switched the cigarette to my left hand to keep the smoke away from Ben.

"You said there wouldn't be any more kissing," I reminded him. "I'm also too drunk to fight with a priest who lives out in the middle of nowhere, and would probably get away with hiding a body."

Ben's smile was reluctant, but genuine. "Tonight there's no more kissing," he said, quoting me. "Quit smoking by tomorrow, and we can renegotiate."

"I'm going to finish this outside," I said, avoiding like a son-of-a-bitch as I pushed open the sliding deck door. The muggy air wrapped around me like a wet blanket, but it was still less stifling than being inside had felt. I had a few moments to myself before the door re-opened and closed again with a gentle bang as Ben joined me on the deck.

Leaning across the railing, I squinted against the deck lights that Ben switched on until my eyes adjusted. The sea still spread out black around us, but now I saw the oil-like sheen highlighting the surface where the moonlight hit. The sound of the waves breaking against the deck support beams was soothing. Out in the quiet, I found an odd feeling of peace despite my earlier outburst.

"Sam?" Ben said, his tone low as not to spook me, but still confident enough to convince me he hadn't come out here to apologize for anything he'd said. I wasn't sure if I was more annoyed or impressed by that.

"Judging isn't what I do, but if it came across that way, I assure you it wasn't what I intended."

I exhaled a smoke ring over my head. "What were you after then?"

"All I wanted was to help you make sense of things. I know you're conflicted about coming home. I use religion to help me figure things out when I feel lost," he said. "Sometimes I forget that isn't true for everyone, so I'm sorry if that was too intense."

I could hear his sincerity, but instead of leaving it there and keeping it simple, I said, "It's not that I don't believe in religion. I used to pray every time I went out in the field. I just stopped."

"Was that before or after Connor died?"

"Before. I'm not angry at God about Connor."

Surprise registered in Ben's tone. "Really?"

I shrugged, perching up onto the edge of the rail the way I had in my house when I was a kid, allowing my feet to dangle. "It'd go against the beliefs that helped me survive." My gaze lifted to meet Ben's. "Every single time a soldier goes out there and puts their life on the line, they believe it counts for something. It's a conscious choice.

"So you're saying that you want to be respected for those choices, and believing in some greater plan takes away from that sacrifice?"

"I guess."

Ben smiled. "I can understand that. You don't want to feel like some marionette being moved around by its strings."

"Does anyone?"

"No, but I think of religion more like one of those Choose Your Own Adventure books; the ones that gave you two options to decide one of several possible outcomes depending on your choices."

"Yeah, I remember those. Connor always ended up with the good quests. I got attacked by cannibals or mauled by lions." My smile slipped a little as I took another drag off my cigarette. I watched the ash crumble into the wind as I tapped it free.

"Connor was always the one with the better luck. He used to say it was because he took bigger risks."

"With great risks come great rewards," Ben agreed. I could feel his gaze on me. "Your brother was a brave man, Sam."

"Connor was an adrenaline junkie. He liked the high...always did. It was my job to keep him grounded, and I failed. Like you said, it's about choosing the right adventure. I chose poorly."

"So what? You need to let that go. Otherwise it's going to eat at you like a cancer. You can't control the world. Get over yourself."

My eyebrow cocked and held when I turned his way again, but Ben didn't look impressed.

"Trust me," he said. "I know what I'm talking about."

"Because you're a priest and are tapped into the whole ever after?"

"I wasn't always a priest, Sam. I just practice what I preach because I have a past just like everyone else does. Demons still chase me. But now I chase back."

"Are you an avid runner?"

"Seven miles a day."

Smartass. Though it wasn't that difficult to believe with how lean he was. "I try to get a minimum of ten a day just to have some down time to clear my head."

Ben's smile was both sweet and suggestive as he said, "I'll have to work myself hard to keep up then."

"I won't go easy on you."

"If you can dish it, I can take it." He grinned. "But back to what you were saying. Did you grow up with religion?"