Deliverance - Hooch and Matt's Story (23 page)

“It’s okay.” Hooch said in a far more soothing voice than a man like him should be capable of. “You are who you are and if you weren’t you wouldn’t own me.” Before Matt could say anything Hooch continued, “yes, you do, so no comments on that one. There’s no one else I want to be with and no one else I love. Got it?” Hooch covered Matt’s fist with the balled-up tissues with his own hand. “I. Love. You. You better remember that, I won’t say it often. I don’t give a shit if we stick to vanilla or if you lose control or if you come with me to the club or not. I don’t care, because I care about you and being with you, and if this crap here,” Hooch gestured with his free hand at his throat, “if that upsets you, then we forget about it, because it’s not worth it. I’ll never get tired of sex with you, we don’t need to go into stuff that freaks you out.” Hooch drew in a deep breath. “I talked too much now and I really need some food and drink and to blow you. Not necessarily in that order.”

Matt smiled at that, and leaned into Hooch for a kiss. “Depending on what order you want that,” he was still smiling, “you either need to get some clothes on or I should be taking them off.”

Hooch grinned, “or we could order in and stay both naked.”

Matt laughed in reply, feeling much relieved. “Now that is an excellent idea.”

February 2001, Fayetteville

A month later, Saturday lunchtime, Matt was waiting for Hooch to return from Raleigh. He knew when he’d left the club in the night, receiving a text at 3 AM stating simply “back at hotel,” then got a text when Hooch was up a few hours later and heading for breakfast, then another when he’d got into the truck to head back home. He’d been surprised to receive those texts that recounted Hooch’s whereabouts, they’d never talked about this previously. They had, in fact, not talked about much at all, only that Hooch would go to the club for the first time on a Friday night so he had Saturday and Sunday to recuperate. Matt hadn’t asked any more questions and Hooch hadn’t volunteered any answers.

Hooch entered the gym around the expected time, carrying a bag of takeaway containers.

Matt stuck his head around the door of his office, deliberately casual, and not at all as though he’d been watching for Hooch’s arrival. “Hey,” he said, “how was it?” Keeping it ambiguous, even though there was nobody within earshot except Mandy, and Mandy hadn’t been paying much mind to anything except her work since Jeff had left for Afghanistan.

“Okay.” Hooch said, looking relaxed, even though some of his movements were stiff. He smiled and held up the bag. “I got Thai, your favorite. Hungry?”

Matt nodded. “Upstairs?” He turned to Mandy. “You want any?” he asked, though it was largely useless.

The answer was, as it had been since Jeff left. “No, thanks, I’m not hungry.” No exclamation marks, no bubbly enthusiasm.

“Doesn’t matter.” Hooch stepped towards the reception desk and opened the bag, looking for a particular container. “I got you some anyway.” He pulled out the right one. “You think Jeff wants to come back to a wraith? He’ll be starved of sex and affection when he’s back, you got to keep in shape.” He set the container down in front of her and gave her a look that would have made any recruit quake in their boots. “Eat, Mandy, or I’ll get word out to the ‘Stan about your moping.”

She looked up at Hooch, blushed hard and obediently opened the container. “Thanks,” she said, picking up the fork. “I know we’re luckier than most—at least I can write to him and stuff and they’ll let me know if anything happens to him. Thank you.” Behind her, Matt smiled at Hooch as he started to move towards the door to the apartment.

“You’re welcome.” Hooch followed Matt up the stairs to the apartment, where he dropped the bag on the kitchen counter.

“Well,” Matt asked, “how did it go?”

“Better than expected.” Hooch pulled Matt into an embrace. “I tell you everything if you want to, if not, I won’t say a thing, or keep it vague.”

Matt exhaled and returned the embrace, reminding himself not to check Hooch for injuries too overtly. “Only as much—or as little—as you want.” He bent his head into the crook of Hooch’s neck. “Anything you want to get off your chest, or anything that I…” not ‘can do’, there was quite a lot he couldn’t, “anything that I should watch out for.”

Hooch cradled the back of Matt’s head in his hand, guiding him to look at him. “Last night was all about me. Selfish bastard and all that. Now it’s about you. I tell you—or don’t tell you—what you want to know.”

Matt exhaled, not entirely sure. On one hand, he wanted to know everything that had happened: what Hooch had done, or more accurately what had been done to him, but on the other, the thought of hearing about him hurt was painful in itself. “Just…briefly…” Matt said, after a pause, “an outline and some sort of idea and especially if we need to be careful about anything in the next week or so.”

“Okay.” Hooch smiled and slowly let go of Matt. “I can do that, but let’s get the food before it’s cold.” He peeled out of his jacket and left it hanging near the door, then went to help Matt who’d started to dish out.

“I forgot to give you something.” Hooch went back to the jacket and pulled an item out of a pocket. “Hand out, palm open.” He placed the collar into Matt’s hand. It had a blue color flash on it, and nothing else. The same collar they had bought a month ago, now with traces of wear, such as the indentation of the buckle on the top of the leather. “Yours.” Hooch said softly while sitting back down.

Matt held it in his hands, the collar bought at the pet store, the collar he’d put on Hooch, claiming him as Matt’s. “Mine,” he echoed, before winding it up in his hand. “Where do you keep it?” he asked, genuinely puzzled. It had completely slipped his mind where it had got to after he’d thrown it on the couch the day he’d attacked Hooch’s neck like some deranged vampire.

“In the bottom drawer of the bedside table.” Hooch flashed a grin. “You never look in it, because the lube’s in the top one.” He started on his plate full of food, swallowed the first mouthful before speaking again. “I’d like you to keep it. It is yours, after all, just like I am.”

Matt opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t find the right words. He nodded in agreement. “Yes, I will.” His hands closed around the collar. Just a strip of leather, a metal buckle, but a wealth of meaning. Hooch, his, just as much as he was Hooch’s. With or without the symbols.

Hooch nodded, eating in silence for a moment. “I’d like you to know that I made it a rule never to see anyone at the club. I don’t want to know who they are and what they look like. I don’t want anyone to be anything but anonymous to me, that’s why I’m blindfolded at all times. It’s in my file now.” He continued to eat as if they talked about the weather.

Matt blinked and only barely stopped his fork falling from suddenly numb fingers. “Oh,” he said. The thought of Hooch, bound, blindfolded, helpless—he didn’t know what to feel. “Is that a new thing?” he asked, slightly warily, going into territory that he’d never gone before.

“Yes.” Hooch swallowed his last mouthful. “Do you know why?”

Matt shook his head. “No.”

“I wonder who’s the blind one, then.” Hooch leaned forward and poked his finger right in the middle of Matt’s chest.

Matt looked at Hooch in surprise. “I’ve got no idea what goes on in your head most of the time and this is no exception.”

“Why would I want to see anyone else? I don’t care about anyone other than you.”

Matt’s brows steepled in confusion, because there was no doubt this was one of the times that Hooch simply made no sense. “What’s that got to do with it.”

“I can’t explain it better.”

Matt shook his head. “I suppose I’ll get it in time. It’s still all a bit new to me, but if you find it works for you…”

“Yeah. Yeah it does.” Hooch was visibly closing back up again.

“What’s it like?” Matt asked, after a few minutes of silence. “Not seeing what’s being done?”

Hooch glanced up from his food. “It means I can’t brace myself for whatever is coming, which makes it better. Most of all it means I can stay in my head and don’t get distracted by other bodies and faces.”

Not sure whether this made him feel better or worse, Matt continued with his food. “Do you think the club is going to be enough?”

“Yeah, it’ll do.” Hooch finished his meal and leaned back, arms crossed over his chest. “How do you feel?”

Matt exhaled. “I don’t know. I know you need something, and I don’t mind other men, it’s not that, it’s just…well, I’ll get used to it in time.” Matt’s thoughts were all over the place. “I wish there was a better way, but we know there isn’t.” He finished, feeling that it was lame.

Hooch sat for a while in silence. Realizing eventually there was nothing he could say to make Matt feel better. He was fucked up, no way around it, and Matt had chosen this path for him, Hooch, to allow him to deal with that fucked up self of his while they stayed together. Only now, confronted with Matt’s painful acceptance, did Hooch truly understand the magnitude of what Matt was giving him.

Hooch slid off the couch and onto his knees. Moving closer, until he nudged Matt’s legs to settle between them. He reached for Matt’s face, cupped it and gently pulled him close until their lips met. He tried to put everything he felt into his kiss: gratitude, love, respect, trust. Above all, love. More than he ever thought his broken self could feel.

Matt closed his eyes, just feeling. Thoughts and fears banished for now, with Hooch here, his. No matter what else, Hooch would come back to him, and that was the most important thing. It had to be.

He pulled back gently, his own hand on the side of Hooch’s face, touch light. “It’ll be okay,” he said softly, not sure whether he was telling Hooch or himself. “It will.”

Hooch nodded. “Yeah.” The word not much more than a soft exhale. “Come to bed with me.” Knowing full well that any bruise, any sore spot, any cut and scrape would be visible to Matt’s eyes, but trying to hide the evidence of what he had needed, would only prolong Matt getting used to it.

Matt nodded, pulling away and taking the plates to dump them in the sink before returning. He took Hooch’s hand, the only obvious sign of his insecurity. “Come on,” pulling him gently, though Hooch needed no such guidance or encouragement.

Hooch slowly peeled out of his clothes; a more pliant and patient man than the one who had left the day before. He lay down in top of their bed and let Matt examine the damage that had been done to his body by men he didn’t care about but needed.

Gentle hands moved over each bruise and scrape and welt. Matt winced even though Hooch did not, and each of Matt’s gentle touches on his sore body reminded Hooch not of what he’d done the night before, but of why he was doing it: so he could be the man who was capable of being in this relationship.

“Love you,” Matt murmured into Hooch’s ear, “no matter what.” Feeling the weight of Hooch against him, soothed into the sleep and the rest that his body craved so that it could heal.

Early Summer 2002, Fayetteville

Hooch went to his club every month or two, almost always on Friday night and returning Saturday lunchtime. There were occasional phone calls, too, and a week once a year that Matt never commented on, just as he didn’t comment on the club. That was Hooch’s business, and Hooch’s alone.

Perhaps forewarned by Mandy’s observations, Matt began to notice the knowing looks in his direction from his clients. Less conscious of having to hide all the time, he surprised himself when he accepted the first frank approach from Greg, one of his personal training clients, and then some of the others after that. Usually after-hours in the gym, in the personal training rooms or treatment rooms.

Hooch called them Matt’s ‘nibbles’, and seemed to be supremely comfortable with his occasional indulgence. ‘Nibbles’ was a good way to describe them

fun, temporarily satisfying, but somehow not feeding the hunger quite enough.

* * *

“You realize that you’ve never so much as asked me in for a coffee?” Greg asked one Friday evening, putting on his clothes after their latest meeting. “We’ve been having some fun for the past three months, what’s wrong with your bed?”

Matt froze as he was pulling on his t-shirt, and then forced himself to relax. “I’m not the only one in the apartment,” he kept his voice light.

“So what? Your buddy’s a homophobe?” Greg laughed, as if he’d just made the funniest joke in a decade. “It’s not a secret you’re gay.” He shrugged on his sweater jacket and straightened back up.

Matt snorted, covering up the first reaction of relief that Greg was so completely off the mark about Hooch. “No, he’s not. It’s not that.” He pulled down his t-shirt and then ducked under the massage table to retrieve his shoes.

“What is it, then?” Greg made a grab for Matt’s ass and squeezed one firm buttock with an appreciative grunt. “You think military guys get the heebie-jeebies when in close contact with
two
gays?” he grinned.

Matt caught Greg’s wrist firmly. “Leave it, Greg.” His voice anything but joking. “He doesn’t bring anyone up to the apartment, and neither do I.”

“Hey, what’s up with you?” Greg was taken aback and not a little put-out. “Lost your sense of humor? What the hell’s wrong with you and your roommate?” His eyes narrowed as he pulled his arm out of Matt’s grasp, calculating. “Or is it not just your roommate?”

“Nothing is ‘wrong’.” Matt pulled on his shoes, keeping calm despite the thudding of his pulse around his ears, knowing that he had to deflect Greg’s thoughts before they went in the wrong—the right—direction. “He’s my best friend,” he said at last, “but that doesn’t mean I let him know everything I do.”

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to keep from him that you’re gay.” Greg sneered, which gave his usually handsome face quite an ugly distortion. “I’ve got news for you, buddy, that’s too late That sounds like bullshit to me.”

‘‘Firstly,’’ Matt began, tying his shoelaces with a nonchalance he didn’t feel, ‘‘Hooch is neither blind nor stupid. I imagine he’s worked out by now why I quit the Marines.’’ He straightened up. ‘‘Secondly, I don’t get why you’re so pissed. This isn’t anything more than a bit of fun.’’

“Yeah, I get that, but I’m not used to being a bit of fun that has to be hidden away.” Greg frowned. “What the fuck’s wrong with drinking a coffee together? That’s part of being fuck buddies in my book.”

“Let’s go out for a drink sometime,” at least the worst had been headed off. “It’s no secret, but neither Hooch nor I bring anyone up. That’s the deal.”

The easy smile was back on Greg’s face within an instant. “Okay, buddy, if that’s the deal, that’s alright.” He took his gym bag and threw his towel on top. “Next week same time after cardio?”

“Sure,” Matt nodded, glad the tension was diffused. No-strings fun was meant to be just that. “Have a great weekend.”

“You too.” With a wave of his hand and a last smile, Greg sauntered out.

The gym was deserted, and Matt quietly locked up and turned the lights off before heading upstairs. It was Hooch’s Friday in his club, so he planned an early night with a few movies. When he opened the door to the apartment, he was taken aback.

The TV was on and Hooch was sitting on the sofa, bare feet on the couch table, a bottle of lager in his hand. He craned his neck as Matt entered and greeted him with a quick smile. “Hey.”

Matt blinked. “Hey,” he echoed automatically. “I thought you were going to the club this weekend?”

Hooch took a mouthful of the beer. “Got called into a late meeting. Couldn’t be bothered to go to Raleigh after that.” He hit the mute button on the remote. “Working late?”

“Nah, just meeting up with Greg after his session.” Matt shook his head. “Just give me a minute, I need a shower. You had dinner?” he asked on his way to the bathroom.

“Had a burger on my way home.” Hooch called after Matt, before turning his attention back onto the TV, the sound back on.

Matt ducked into the shower, washing quickly, then dashed to the bedroom for clean clothes, before heading to the kitchen to throw together a salad. He sat down on the couch next to Hooch. “Whatcha watching?”

“Soccer.” Hooch glanced at Matt with a raised eyebrow. “The ball, the green field, the guys in shorts should have given you a clue.”

“Soccer.” Matt repeated, as he stabbed at a mushroom. “You going to the club next weekend then?”

“No, I’m okay. Don’t need to, yet.” Hooch leaned across a little to stare pointedly at the mushroom Matt kept spearing repeatedly. “I reckon it’s dead by now,” he commented drily.

Matt looked up. “Yeah, but you never can tell with the bastards.” He shoved the mangled remains into his mouth, and swallowed without chewing.

“You don’t act like someone who’s just had some fun with a guy.” Hooch finished the last dregs of his beer and put the bottle onto the table.

“He complained that we hadn’t gone out for a coffee.” Out loud, it sounded ridiculous.

“So he fancies you. That’s not a surprise, is it?” Hooch hit the mute button once more.

“No, “ Matt finished the salad and put the empty bowl on the table. “Just weird. It was never meant to be anything than a bit of fun, and all of a sudden he was getting pushy and asking to come up here.”

“He’s falling for you.” Hooch shrugged, but a hidden line of tension in his shoulders betrayed the indifference
. “One day one of your ‘nibbles’ would. Those guys aren’t stupid.”

Matt snorted. “You’d have thought they knew better. At least Greg seems to get that I won’t bring him up here, even if he thinks it’s because ‘military guys get the heebie-jeebies around two gays’.”

“Good one.” Re-crossing his ankles on the table, Hooch projected a casual unconcern
. “What should they know better, though?”

Matt frowned. Unusual for Hooch to be probing quite so much. “They should know better than to think it’s more than just a bit of fun. It’s not as though they don’t know about the others, after all.”

“Yeah, right, and they all think you’re actually single. What’s to stop any of them having a go at becoming more than a bit of fun?” Hooch rolled his head to the side, resting on the sofa’s back, looking at Matt.

“How about me saying ‘
No, t
hanks’?” Matt met Hooch’s gaze.

“Without a reason?”

“Would I need to give one?” Matt paused, “and why would you care what I tell them?”

Hooch shrugged. “Just figured you might get annoyed with a persistent one.” Neatly avoiding the second question.

Matt scratched the side of his nose. “Greg took it well enough, and he’s the only one who’s pushed for anything so far. Neil hasn’t been around for a bit, and Tom and Craig are only out for a bit of no-strings fun.”

Hooch huffed a laugh. “You’re collecting a stable.”

“You said you didn’t mind,” Matt said doubtfully. “Do you?”

“Of course I don’t mind.” Nothing in Hooch’s face, voice, or demeanor gave any signs to the contrary. “I’ve never in my life said anything I don’t mean. You of all people should know that.” He flashed a quick smile.

Matt answered it, relieved that the weirdness seemed over. “That’s okay then. I’m beat, I’ll wash this up and go to bed.” He picked up his bowl and headed for the kitchen area.

Hooch didn’t say anything while Matt did the washing up, and was still silent with his eyes on the game while Matt occupied the bathroom, but when Matt came out to make his way to the bedroom, Hooch hit the mute button again. “I guess you’re not up for sex tonight?”

Matt stopped in the doorway and turned around. “I’d probably fall asleep,” he said frankly. “Unless you want to do all the work?”

“Depends on you telling me what kind of work it is you want me to do.”

Matt furrowed his brow. “You’ve lost me.”

“I meant, is there anything you want me to do, or you want to do to me, which we haven’t done yet? Things you get from the other guys but not me, or are the other guys just variety?” Hooch looked at Matt with open curiosity.

Matt blinked. Hooch had never said anything of the sort before, whether in terms of sex or other men. “No,” he shook his head. “They’re just a bit of fun, and I thought you were going to be out this weekend anyway.” He stayed in the doorway, curious at what Hooch would come up with next.

“Okay.” Hooch nodded and to all intents and purposes the case was closed. “I let you sleep unmolested, or don’t you let them fuck you?”

Matt who was turning to go into the bedroom, paused for a second. “I don’t think I have, no. Not even all that much actual fucking to tell the truth.”

Hooch hit the off button on the remote and stood up. “I’m asking too much, huh?”

“Surprised me, is all.” Matt turned back around. “You’ve never asked before, and I don’t ask you about the club.”

“I’m not you.” Hooch walked towards Matt.

Matt stood, waiting. “No.” He tilted his head. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, I don’t.” Hooch squeezed Matt’s bare shoulder. “As long as you don’t fall in love with any of them.”

Still a little perplexed at Hooch’s sentimentality, Matt snorted. “Course not.”

“Good, because you’re
mine
. It works both ways.”

Matt smiled. “You coming to bed?”

Hooch turned towards the bathroom. “Yeah, be with you soon.”

Matt shook his head, wondering what had got into Hooch before sliding under the covers. He hadn’t been lying, he was exhausted from a busy week and the enthusiastic session with Greg, and wanted nothing so much than a good night’s sleep before the early Saturday morning spin class he was due to lead. By the time Hooch slipped under the covers Matt was already out like a light, snoring softly.

Hooch reached out to brush his palm along the smooth skin. Matt didn’t stir, the touch too light, just as he has intended, and with the lights off, Hooch settled in to sleep.

The next morning, Hooch was back to his usual silent self, and didn’t revisit the baffling conversation of the night before.