*****
He hurt.
His chest hurt, where the canine type HST had hit him; a sharp, stinging pain every time he took a breath. His back and head hurt, where he'd crashed into the tree; a dull, throbbing pain clawing at him with each movement.
However, the worst pain wasn't from the physical injuries he'd sustained that night. He'd dealt with worse in the past. He knew the hurt would go away sooner or later. It always did. What really tore at him was the look in Riley's eyes when the lights had flared up and they'd stopped him from leaving the compound with the HST. Riley had thought...still thought...that Graham had betrayed him. His conclusion-jumping hadn't been surprising, but it had still cut like a knife.
As if Graham had been able to betray Riley.
The Marine couldn't have deliberately hurt his CO any more than he could've sprouted wings and fly. He might be a fool, but he was a fool in love, and he'd do everything to protect the one person who mattered to him. He'd long stopped considering himself part of the Initiative. The moment he'd recognized the depth of his feelings for his friend, he'd mentally severed his connection to the organization and placed his loyalties firmly with Riley. It was the way he did things. He couldn't give only part of himself, couldn't serve two masters. He had to choose. Not that he'd had to think much about his decision. He'd belonged to Riley even before the other man had claimed his body.
But of course Riley didn't know that. And Graham sure as hell wouldn't tell him.
So he remained silent and kept his face a cool mask, following quietly when Forrest led Riley to an isolated prison cell and locked him in. He didn't dare meet his friend's eyes again, knowing he couldn't take another one of those razorblade looks. It hurt too much. Why didn't Riley trust him? He had to know that Graham couldn't jump to his rescue smack in the middle of the Initiative. That would've achieved nothing. Riley wasn't in any immediate danger, and Graham's first priority was to keep it that way. Which he couldn't do from inside a cell of his own.
But Riley, who'd always been lousy at hiding his emotions, kept glancing at Graham with hurt and betrayal screaming from his eyes. He didn't say a word, didn't even try to justify his actions, he just looked as if his best friend had just stabbed him from behind. The look ripped Graham to shreds inside. It was almost enough to make him throw caution into the wind and get Riley out immediately. He was pretty sure he could do it. It might cost him his life, but he could get his friend to safety without further delay.
The only catch was that if he died or got captured, then Riley'd be on his own once he was outside. Even with the help of the Slayer and her friends it wouldn't take the Initiative long to find him. Graham had a pretty good idea about the odds -- without help from the inside Riley would last about two to three days tops. A week, if he was desperate enough to kill the soldiers sent to retrieve him. Which he wouldn't. Riley was no killer. He'd never take a human life except possibly in self-defense. He simply didn't have it in him.
Graham did. He knew he could and would kill everybody or thing that was a threat to his friend, without hesitation or remorse. He had the steel core Riley was missing, the ability to detach himself from his emotions and do what was necessary. It was this skill that enabled him to bear Riley's looks and the sight of him locked behind bars, and bide his time.
He kept his face an impersonal mask when on their way back to their posts Forrest kept ranting about the Slayer and how she'd turned Riley into a traitor; he even allowed the other man to touch him repeatedly for emphasis. Graham didn't like to be touched. He'd been hurt too often to be comfortable with people invading his space. It made him feel defensive at best, threatened at worst. Only Riley's touch was different. Only he made Graham's body sing with anticipation every time he came near.
The reason why Graham still tolerated Forrest's nearness was that he genuinely liked his lively comrade. The ebony-skinned soldier was smart, funny and loyal -- a good man to have at one's back in any situation. He also was everything Graham wasn't: sociable, talkative, easy to make friends, witty...touchable. To this day Graham wondered why Riley had chosen him over Forrest when he'd needed somebody to release the tension during the rocky parts of his relationship with Buffy. Why he'd decided to take the taciturn, emotionally-challenged Marine into his bed instead of his handsome, willing second-in-command was completely beyond Graham.
How could it be that he'd seen enough of Graham's true self to trust him with this, yet now believe his friend had betrayed him?
Of course, Graham reasoned, that was probably his own fault. After all Riley couldn't read his mind, and he didn't know how much he meant to his quiet subordinate. For him it had been just sex. He had no idea that the Marine had never voluntarily had sex with another man before, that for him there had been nothing casual about the act.
//You've got me. Whatever you want, whatever you need. I'll do everything in my power to give it to you.//
The pledge he'd made to Riley the first time his CO had taken him echoed in his mind. He almost smiled. His lover hadn't recognized the words for what they were: an oath of loyalty. More than that. A gift. Graham had given Riley his heart and sealed the pact by offering his body. Riley had taken both and never even noticed what he did to his friend. For a guy who usually was remarkably perceptive of other people's emotions, he sure was blind as a bat when it came to his best friend.
The Marine suppressed a rueful sigh. He'd always had a talent for getting himself into trouble, but this was getting ridiculous. He'd fallen for a guy who was not only his commanding officer, but who was also completely oblivious about the way Graham felt, because he was hopelessly in love with the Slayer. And instead of running as fast and far as possible the second he realized his mistake, Graham had stayed, unable to leave Riley. How pathetic could he get?
He got his answer when the power went out and the emergency lights flickered on. Both he and Forrest knew what that meant: Buffy Summers had come to retrieve her wayward boyfriend. So Graham turned and deliberately bumped into Forrest, and he didn't try to break their fall or hide his pain when his bruised and battered body hit the floor. Instead he allowed a muffled cry to escape and then lay shaking on the cool tiles, closing his eyes so he didn't have to meet Forrest's gaze.
Using a friend's concern for his welfare to divert him. That's how pathetic he could get.
He didn't react to Forrest's frantic questions, refused to speak or open his eyes. He could sense the other man's conflict, his desire to stop the Slayer from taking Riley away warring with his instinct to protect his fallen team-mate. To help him with his decision, Graham moaned softly, just loud enough for Forrest to hear. He felt like shit for doing what he did, but he'd rather deceive his friend than hurt him. One way or another he'd keep Forrest from interfering with the rescue. There was no way he'd let them court martial Riley. Not after what Riley had told him about the Initiative.
"Graham, keep still. How badly are you hurt? Why didn't the doc tie you to the bed, dammit?!"
He felt Forrest's hands move over his body, trying to gauge the extent of his injuries, and had to forcefully suppress a shudder. He didn't want to be touched like this, not here, not by Forrest. He was tired and cold and hurting, and all he wanted was to find Riley and claim sanctuary in the protective circle of his arms.
Since that wasn't an option, however, he clenched his jaws and endured the fussing, not even complaining when Forrest cut his sweater and the bandages off to inspect the damage. He heard his friend draw in a sharp breath and realized his chest must look almost as bad as it felt. He just hoped Forrest wouldn't turn him over and take a look at his back...the rough tree-bark had left him with a lovely mix of abrasions and contusions. Had the Initiative not been that short on soldiers, the doctor would've insisted he stay at the sick bay.
"Goddammit, Gray," Forrest breathed, the tips of his fingers ghosting over Graham's skin, gently outlining the massive bruise forming on the Marine's muscular torso. "Why didn't you say something?"
He didn't expect an answer and Graham didn't give him one. They both knew that Maggie Walsh's death and the skirmishes with Adam's followers had hit the Initiative hard. The soldiers were working double shifts as it was, trying to maintain their cover while at the same time catching the brunt of the attacks Walsh's escaped pet project was launching at Sunnydale. They couldn't afford another man in the infirmary. And Graham's injuries, while inconvenient and painful, weren't life-threatening. Since he hadn't been bitten or scratched by the creature, he didn't have to be quarantined. So he was still on duty.
It was a strange, surreal feeling to lie half in Forrest's arms and half on the cold floor while the emergency lights flickered and the alarm was clamoring. Somewhere in the complex, Riley was busy destroying his career and endangering his life, and all Graham could do was hold still and at least keep Forrest off his back. Forrest, who despite his need to go and face off with the Slayer, kept holding him, trying to ease his pain.
It would have been much easier if Forrest had been a bastard who didn't care if Graham and Riley lived or died. It wouldn't have felt so much like betrayal when he let the other take care of him. It wouldn't have hurt so much too sense his worry and his desire to help. It wouldn't have shocked him so much when Forrest's hand started to stroke down his abdomen, caressing his skin, then trail further down to gently cup his crotch. His eyes opened then, opened wide, and he found his friend staring at him intensely.
Forrest's smile was bittersweet. "So you love him too, hmm?"
He swallowed. Kept his mouth shut. Asked a thousand questions with his eyes. Didn't dare move, because if Forrest decided to drop him and go after Riley, he'd have to stop him. He didn't want to hurt Forrest. He didn't have that many friends. And apart from that -- knocking out an officer was generally a bad idea. So he lay frozen while Forrest kept petting his cock through the rough material of his pants and staring at him strangely.
"You scared the shit out of me," Forrest said after a while. "When you went down and didn't get up again...fuck, Gray, I thought..." His grip tightened, almost bordering on painful. Graham, who really could do without additional pain, moved carefully, subtly signaling his discomfort. The pressure lessened at once, but the hand stayed where it was. "Don't ever do something like that again, okay?" It was an order, not a request. Graham nodded slightly. It seemed to calm Forrest down a little.
"Gotta admit it, though -- as a distraction, it worked like a charm," his friend admitted finally, when it became clear that Graham wasn't going to say anything. "But next time, just say something, okay? That fall must've hurt like a bitch."
//No shit.//
"Would you have listened?" Graham asked soberly. He wished Forrest would take his hand from his crotch. The urge to lash out at him was getting harder to ignore.
Forrest didn't answer immediately. He cocked his head and listened to the alarms, his fingers kneading Graham's cock almost absent-mindedly. The Marine gritted his teeth, his body reacting to the touch against his will, moving almost imperceptibly to allow better access. Part of him couldn't help the thin thread of arousal drifting up from the depth of his being, while another part just wanted to beat the shit out of Forrest for touching him like that without permission. He quashed both desires.
"No," Forrest said suddenly. Graham looked at him, wondering for a second whether the other man had heard his thoughts. Dark brown eyes met silvery blue ones. "I wouldn't have listened," Forrest said simply. "And I might still kick your ass for stopping me from going after Riley."
Graham stared at him, revealing nothing. "I'm sorry, sir. I should've watched my step. I guess I'm still a little dizzy from getting smashed into that tree." Which was the truth. He suspected the doctor had decided to overlook his light concussion so he could declare him fit for duty.
Forrest's gaze softened a bit. "Is it really that bad?"
He shrugged carefully. "I'll live."
The hand that wasn't caressing his shaft tightened around his shoulders, trying to ease the shivers that were running through the powerful muscles, unaware that it wasn't only the pain that made the Marine so tense.
Forrest leaned down to press his forehead against Graham's, his breath a soft whisper against his comrade's skin. "Don't worry, Gray. I won't report you. I know you only did it to protect Ri. You're a good friend." He shifted a bit and his lips brushed over Graham's temple. "I'll take care of you. You're the only thing I've got left." He gave his friend's half-hard cock a warning squeeze. "But don't get between me and the Slayer again. Ever."
Graham cleared his throat, then whispered his answer into Forrest's ear. "Take your hand away. Slowly. And don't touch me like this again. Ever."
Forrest froze. Blinked. Retreated a bit so he could look into Graham's eyes. Then took his hand away. Slowly.
Graham sat up, trying not to put too much strain on his cracked ribs and sore muscles. He felt like...well, like he'd been smashed into a big fucking tree by a big fucking werewolf. Somehow he still managed to get to his feet in a surprisingly smooth movement. It was decidedly easier to breathe once he was out of immediate reach. Now that Forrest wasn't crowding him anymore, he didn't feel threatened by him either. And he figured that Buffy had gotten Riley safely out of the compound by then. Things were looking up.
Forrest was staring at him strangely, almost as if he were seeing him for the first time. Graham raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't know."
He shrugged, half annoyed, half embarrassed by the understanding he saw in his friend's eyes. Great. One admittedly not very subtle hint and Forrest got it. But even after he'd all but declared his undying love to Riley the dumb fuck remained oblivious. He really had to work on his verbal skills.
"Forget it," he mumbled. "Can we go now?"
Forrest shook his head. "You're not going anywhere -- except back to the infirmary."
Graham was too tired and sore to argue.
********************
When Graham found him in the old Sunnydale High School (or what was left of it) a few hours later, Riley was sleeping fitfully, tossing and turning on the hard floor, shivering from the cold. He'd kicked off the covers. Again.
The Marine moved closer silently, careful not to wake the man he still considered his CO. He picked up the discarded blanket and draped it over the long-limbed body, smiling when the tough soldier snuggled into the warmth like a little kid. Unable to stop himself he reached out and stroked a strand of dark blond hair back so he could look at the face he'd come to love.
The deserter sighed softly and leaned into the touch, nuzzling the familiar hand in his sleep. Graham couldn't quite suppress a half exasperated, half affectionate grin. //So, *now* you trust me. Contrary bastard.//
He wanted nothing more than to slip out of his clothes and under the blankets with Riley, to make sure he'd sleep soundly and safely and maybe have some great sex when his friend woke up. Unfortunately, things never were that easy with them. He had to get back to the Initiative before anybody noticed he was gone, and judging from the way Riley had stared at him back at the base, he'd rather beat Graham senseless than fuck him.
So he pulled his hand back reluctantly, not without brushing his fingers against a stubbled jaw and smiling at the contented little purr the caress provoked. The smile died slowly as he stared down at the sleeping man. This might be the last chance he'd get to ever tell Riley how he felt, even if Riley couldn't hear him. *Especially* since Riley couldn't hear him.
He didn't know how long he was kneeling on the dirty floor, trying to work up the courage to voice his feelings. He'd never been good at that romantic stuff. It was so much easier to risk his life protecting the man he loved than to bare his soul to him. He knew where the real danger lay: The Initiative and most demons would only kill him. Riley could destroy him.
And still...
He closed his eyes and tipped back his head in surrender. Time to come clear, if only to himself. "Love you," he breathed.
Riley smiled in his sleep, instinctively moving closer to Graham's warmth. The Marine leaned down and brushed his lips against his. //Love you// he repeated silently. //Always will.// He straightened the blankets once more, making sure his friend would be warm enough, and made a mental note to drop off a change of clothes as soon as he got the chance. Knowing Riley he'd assume one of Buffy's friends had left them.
He was up and half across the room when Riley moved, unconsciously searching for the familiar presence. When Graham didn't immediately return to his side, he got more specific. "Hmmm...get back here," he mumbled.
The Marine stopped and looked back, torn between what he knew he had to do and what he wanted to do. Then Riley sighed and called out again in his sleep. "Buffy..."
Graham left.
The End