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been.
     
     
    Four years ago—Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton, California
     
    “H EY , E VERETT , catch!”
    Carey turned just in time to catch the strip of condoms Jase lobbed at him. He looked down at them, then back up to his grinning friend before saying drily, “Thanks, but you’re not my type, dude.”
    “If you say so,” Jase winked. “I know you’re going partying with Rhiannon tonight, so be sure to—”
    “—wrap it before you tap it,” they finished in unison, Carey rolling his eyes.
    As unit doc, Jase had taken it upon himself to give everyone “safe sex” lectures at the start of each liberty weekend, sometimes standing at the doorway to the shuttle bus that was taking the younger recruits off base and down to the nightclub district, handing out strips of condoms to men and women alike as they boarded. He’d earned himself the nickname “Condom Nazi” for that, but Jase didn’t care, explaining to Carey he had a younger sister who had gotten knocked up at sixteen. She’d decided not to have the baby, and Jase had teared up a little describing her anguish as she’d weighed her options, then made the choice that was best for her.
    “Be safe, and see you tomorrow night, man,” Jase said as Carey stuffed the condoms in his pocket, noticing Jase slipped several into the pocket of his own jeans before breezing out the door of their shared barracks room. Over the past few months, after the incident where Jase had stitched his arm closed, he and Carey had become good friends, discovering they had quite a bit in common, including a love of outdoor sports and the beach, and they spent most liberty weekends together, even going so far as to request to be roommates when a double room opened up at the barracks.
    They also enjoyed an active social life, and it didn’t take long before Carey met a girl he really liked. Soon he was dating her regularly, spending most of his free weekends at her small apartment.
    That night Carey and his girlfriend were out with a group of her friends in an unfamiliar part of downtown for someone’s birthday party, and as they ambled slowly up the sidewalk hand in hand, she suddenly leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Ooh, that’s a gay bar. And oh my God, look at those guys. Fuck, that’s hot. Oh shit, Carey! Is that—”
    Curious, Carey turned his head to see one man had another man pressed against the rough brick wall not far from the club entrance. The man against the wall had thrown his head back as the other man kissed his way down his neck, and the light emanating from the bar had fallen across his face. With a nasty start, Carey realized the man against the wall was Jase, and he stopped dead in his tracks.
    As Carey and Rhiannon gaped, the man kissing Jase gripped him by the back of the thighs and lifted, and Jase wrapped his legs around the other man’s hips. The man pressed him back against the wall, and they ground together, kissing, until Carey took Rhiannon’s elbow and hurried her away, murmuring some stupid shit about leaving them to their privacy.
    The next morning Carey eased himself away from a sleeping Rhiannon, telling her he had to take care of something and he’d be back in an hour. She gave him a knowing look and rolled back over, asleep again before Carey had even closed the door of her apartment behind him.
    Jase was snoring softly when Carey let himself into their shared room, and he went over and kicked the end of Jase’s narrow bed, growling, “Get up, Jase.”
    He repeated the action twice more before Jase woke up and looked around in confusion, disentangling himself from the rumpled covers and stumbling to his feet, yawning and scratching his taut belly, a pair of boxer briefs riding low on his lean hips. A belated realization hit, and Carey looked around warily for naked men hiding in the corner, sighing in relief when there didn’t seem to be any.
    “Whassup, dude?” Jase drawled, an undercurrent of irritation in his voice