The General had allowed for a week of leave for certain supply staff following the inspection. It was supposed to be a reward for a remarkable space and a flawless inspection. Hanson scowled to himself as he thought about it. The week off had Crawford's handiwork all over it. The sailor must have really liked the "performance" he and Kline put on Saturday.
It was Monday and he got into his Ranger and drove to base. He was dressed for running and maybe a little weight training. This was his normal routine during the week, and he wasn't about to interrupt it, leave or no. He frowned as he pulled into the gym parking lot. He turned off the truck and sat there. His jaw clenched and relaxed as he thought.
"I can't believe we did that." He gritted his teeth in disappointment and self-depredation. "I can't believe I did that." He thought about Kline, and how impossible to resist he'd found the man. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" He glared at his reflection in the rear view mirror. "I'm not a goddamned fag." After staring into his own eyes he looked away from the mirror and glanced over at his gym bag. He grabbed it and opened his door. He entered the gym and walked to the locker room. There were a number of sweaty guys in the large room with him, but he paid them no attention. He picked a locker and put his stuff inside then secured it with a lock.
He left the room. His mind was filled with emotional crap he wasn't used to dealing with. He exited the gym and started running along the roads snaking through the base. It felt good to have the wind in his face and the air was still cool enough so that running wasn't a miserable experience.
Hanson ran hard. He could feel himself trying to keep his legs in a manageable rhythm, but his anger made him push his limit far earlier than he would have normally. He let his lungs take in the air as he sprinted along, and felt the pain of exertion grounding him, making him think about nothing but being alive. Though he knew it wouldn't last. He was running at nearly top speed and looked like someone trying to get away from something frightening. People driving turned to look at him as they passed. He didn't care. They didn't know him. They didn't know what he was going through. Nobody did. No, someone did know.
Hanson ran back to the front doors of the gym and doubled over, panting with the effort of his exercise. Sweat ran freely down his face and body. He stooped with his hands on his thighs as he caught his breath. Kline knows.' Hanson thought. He's going through this shit too.' He felt his ire rise up again. No. He made me do it. Damn Kline.' He frowned and his face wrinkled in an angry frown. If he'd not wanted me to do it, I wouldn't have.' Hanson worked himself into a furious state of mind.
He entered the gym and picked up his bag. He came back out and jumped into his truck and sped for home. On the way he opened his cell phone.
"Kline. Meet me at my place. We have to talk."
Hanson hung up after he left the message and forced himself to stay within 15 mph of the speed limit.
Kline was also on leave, courtesy of the General. He got home after some chores and heard Hanson's message. He could hear the strain in the man's voice and picked up his jacket immediately. He tried not to think about the way he was beginning to feel for the Captain. And he tried not to think about how good it felt to have him fucking him senseless. He got into his car and started it. He grinned and shook his head at his unruly and hardening cock and then he left for Hanson's house.
The Captain paced back and forth in his living room. His stomach twisted itself into knots and he felt sick with himself. A knock sounded and he stalked to the door and opened it. Kline stood there, gazing calmly at Hanson.
"You all right sir?" He could tell immediately that the Captain was upset.
"Get in here." Hanson ushered him inside and shut the door. He turned to the Lt. who looked at him questioningly. "We need to talk about what happened."
Kline nodded. "All right." Hanson fumed at Kline's serene exterior. How could he be so damned calm about this?
"Look," Hanson started, "what happened was a big mistake." He shook his head. "I ... I never should have done what I did."
Kline frowned. "What choice did you have sir? Crawford would have made ..."
"No!" Hanson turned on him like a shark. "Crawford wasn't the one who made me to do it." He glared at Kline with eyes filled with emerald fire. "You did."
Kline narrowed his gaze. "Sir. I didn't MAKE you do anything." Kline approached him, his hands up and out to his side in the centuries old sign of peace. "The way I remember things, we both were pretty into it."
Hanson half turned away. His hands unconsciously balled themselves into fists and he forced them open again. "Kline, this can never happen again." He refused to look at the Lt. and closed his eyes at the revulsion he felt.
"Captain, what are we supposed to do when Crawford has us at his place next weekend?" Kline folded his arms over his chest. "Do you have another plan? Can you get us out of this?"
"It's not about the physical shit!" He turned back to Kline. "It's about liking it!"
Kline stared at Hanson and took a deep breath. "Sir. I ... I tried to tell myself that I didn't like what was happening." He looked down at his feet then back up at the Captain. "But that's just not true. I mean, we got off." He shook his head. "If that's not liking it, then I don't know what ..."
Hanson's fist shot out and connected against Kline's heavy jaw with a crack. The Lt. staggered back with surprise and pain. He caught his balance and squared off in front of Hanson. The Captain stood with a half-angry, half-surprised look on his face.
"Just ... just shut up." Hanson's chin trembled. He didn't even feel himself decide to hit Kline. He just did it.
Kline reached up and touched his face. His jaw showed a cut from the blow and he pulled away fingers covered in blood. He stared at them, then he brought his eyes up to meet Hanson's. He shook his head gently from side to side. "You know. I agreed to do this so you could stay in." He smiled; a sad and pained expression. "Crawford misjudged me. I was ready to let him drum me out of the Corps." He grimaced at the spreading pain in his jaw. "But I agreed to play his little game, because without both of us, YOU were going to suffer." Kline walked past Hanson to the front door and opened it. He paused at the threshold. "I thought you deserved to keep your family tradition. I thought you were a good marine. And ... I thought you were my friend." He walked out, and softly shut the door behind him.