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Nick and Cody had been inseparable in Vietnam.
They weren't the only ones: need was different over there. Everything was different over there.
After they came home, they parted ways. Nick, home to his mother, doing his best to fit "dutiful son" somehow over Second Lieutenant Ryder.
Cody, maybe more honest, certainly more frightened, aware that Second Lieutenant Allen would find no welcome in Massachusetts, found a roommate in L.A. through his one-time fraternity brothers. "College dropout" was achievable where "prodigal son" could not be borne.
Cody drank. Nick didn't, because he knew if he started he wouldn't stop. Cody partied, filled his waking hours with people and avoided being alone. Nick barely tolerated his family and his boss, and avoided everyone else.
It wasn't sustainable, and it was Cody who broke first. A fist fight with his roomie over a girl who meant less than nothing, and he was gone - back to the recruitment office, back to the army.
That night, he called Nick from a payphone outside a bar, sober after dark for the first time since he'd shipped home. And the next morning, he met Nick outside the recruitment office sharp at 0800.
---
Six years later, they're finally ready to try civilian life again. Together, this time. Buddies. Best friends. Partners.
Nick's tried on "career soldier" and found it wanting, but wears "decorated vet" and "chopper pilot" like they fit. His mom died in '76 and there's no one else that matters.
Cody's learned to make "rebellious son" work for the annual visit he can't get out of, and for the rest, he likes "surfer boy" or even "beach bum".
The labels give them space to be, a persona to adopt, somewhere to fit in this little beach community. The army's like a second skin, a safety net, and as much as they've chafed at it over the years, it's been their support.
Now all they have is each other.
---
Nick and Cody are always together. King Harbor got used to that fast, their favorite table at Straightaway's, double dates on Friday nights, playing beach volleyball, working out or just hanging out.
There are plenty of ladies but Mama Jo wont let it go beyond dinner and a movie, even that only if she's in a particularly generous mood.
Nick and Cody complain, of course. It's expected, and anyway, a cozy armful is nice, especially when it comes with a happy ending.
Home on the boat, alone together, a goodnight beer. Or maybe a coffee. They share a stateroom - at this point, they've been sleeping in the same space for nearly ten years, and it's the only way they can truly relax.
"You wanna?" Nick murmurs, clicking the light.
Cody, in the act of getting into bed, sits on the side of Nick's bunk instead. "You said we wouldn't…" he breathes.
Nick sits forward, reaches for him, pulls Cody close so he can lean his forehead against Cody's temple. "I did," he confirms. His lips brush Cody's cheek.
Cody turns toward him, sliding an arm around him. "We're not gay, right? That's what we always said."
"We said a lot of B.S., big guy." Nick kisses Cody, stilling any reply, and Cody kisses him back hungrily. "I don't care what we are. I'm dyin' here without you, that's what I know."
"Lay back," Cody mutters, pulling back to give Nick room and swinging onto the bunk, shoving the blanket aside and straddling his partner. "Bambi's given you blue balls tonight, is that it? And you think I'm the cure?"
Nick grins up at Cody, teeth gleaming in the dark, and reaches up and grips his ass. "Babe. Eight years? Nine? An' I remember everything, you know? I remember how you taste, how you sound, how you fucking smell. And it's driving me crazy, you know?"
"Fuck," Cody said, as Nick pulled his hips down. "When you put it like that…"
---
Morning in the marina is bright but slow. Sun through the stateroom window, voices and machinery drifting down from the road and the storefronts. The Riptide moving gently in her berth.
Cody, snuggled close to Nick in the cramped confines in the single bunk, has been awake since daybreak. He hasn't moved to get up though - doesn't want to, doesn't want to break the spell. He'd made himself believe, all the years, the lies they'd told each other back in Vietnam.
Now, enveloped in the truth, he's determined not to go back - terrified Nick will want to go back.
"Morning," Nick murmurs, and sits up.
Cody stares at him, mute, unable to put everything - anything - into words.
"Hey," Nick says, and grabs his hand. "Which is it? You want this? Or - not?"
Cody swallows and grips Nick's hand like he's drowning. "Yes," he forces out. "This."
Nick lets out a breath, smiles, and lays back down. "Well then," he says, "what's the problem?"
Nick quirks an eyebrow and Cody can't help himself. He starts laughing. "No problem, big guy. No problem at all."