Active Duty - Hunter And Bailey -gay- - Checked May 2026

A second pair of boots appeared beside his head. Worn, dusty, the laces tied with a specific double-knot that Hunter could have recognized in the dark. Bailey crouched down, his face appearing upside-down in Hunter’s peripheral vision. He held a tablet with the digital manifest.

Bailey reached down. He didn’t offer a hand—that would have been too public, too obvious. Instead, he ran his thumb once, quickly, along the edge of Hunter’s jawline, wiping away a smudge of grease. The touch was electric, forbidden, and over in a heartbeat.

Hunter lay back down, sliding under the landing gear. His heart was pounding against his ribs like a rotor out of balance. He pressed his thumb to the fresh checkmark, smearing the ink just a little. Active Duty - Hunter And Bailey -Gay- - Checked

Then he handed the pen back.

“Then mark it ‘CHECKED, GHOST’ and initial it,” Hunter grunted, twisting a wrench a quarter-turn. “I don’t need the Captain having a meltdown at oh-four-hundred.” A second pair of boots appeared beside his head

“I’ll sleep when we’re wheels-up,” Hunter replied.

“Bailey,” Hunter said.

Bailey didn’t move. He just watched. Hunter felt the weight of that gaze—not a supervisor checking on a subordinate, but something older. Something that had survived two deployments, a dozen near-misses, and one night in a FOB barracks when the mortar alarm had turned into something else entirely.