Deliverance - Hooch and Matt's Story (38 page)

Matt stared after him, then shook his head with a grin, and went to do the same for his own team. While he had keen memories of his time as a USMC, he knew that if Hooch pulled out all the way, he wasn’t going to have a chance, and thus he had to try and out-guess his Delta partner.

He had the advantage of some familiarity of the park, if vague, and at least there hadn’t been the funds to change the park much in the years since he left. He guided his team to a part of the grounds near the play equipment that gave them easy maneuverability and plenty of snow to stockpile ammunition. Keeping an eye on Hooch, visible in black, he set his team to snowball making, and waited.

Hooch ushered his troop into the lightly forested area, where they first made stacks of snowballs, which Hooch distributed in small piles along the area, strategically planning attack, defense and
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if must be
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retreat. He sent out a few of his team, three older kids armed with snowballs, to draw the other team closer by taunting them while pelting them with snowballs. Retreating into the trees, he waited until his scouts were engaged in a fight, before guiding his remaining troops in an arch along the side of the park, flanking the opposing team. The smallest kid held tightly onto his hand as they walked quietly, using the trees as visual shelter as best as they could. When his faction was close enough to belly-crawl through the snow, he placed the kid on his back, where she held on tightly, securing a stack of snowballs as ready ammunition for the moment of sneak-attack.

Matt’s team, realizing they were being drawn out into the open, had retreated to the play equipment, where they had the advantage of height, raining snowballs down on Hooch’s scouts. Matt kept a keen eye on the park, knowing that Hooch had held half his team in reserve, and he cursed himself that he had lost sight of them.

The older kids of Hooch’s team were holding out well. He’d briefed them that it would be hard, they were the decoys, after all, and he’d fired them up, just like he had done when he’d led his team into dangerous missions. The kids had lapped it up, bursting with pride to have been chosen and raring to go. Now they held their own, even though pelted with snow they still kept fighting back.

Suddenly a battle cry from the bushes surrounding the play area, immediately joined by a cacophony of kids’ voices that yelled as they attacked Matt’s team, that screamed in surprise, having been taken in a pincer movement. Hooch himself came running, the girl holding onto the hood of his tight fitting parka, and Hooch secured the kid with one hand, with the other aiming at Matt, snow balls flying in a crazy mayhem.

It was chaos of running and screaming kids, melting snowballs, white powder and lumps everywhere, slush and absolute fun. It was clear that Hooch’s team had ‘won’, though that was largely moot when everyone was drenched, chilled, laughing and exhausted, more than ready to head back to the house for lunch. Emily clung to Hooch like a limpet, refusing to let go until they were safely back and she was handed over to her mother, protesting all the way that she wanted to stay with “Unca Hooch”.

Hooch was still grinning like a loon by the time he’d stomped off the snow on his boots and had shaken off his clothes and hair. When Matt turned to tell him good humouredly he was a bastard for getting snow down his neck and chest, he stopped in his tracks and said nothing, just ruffling the snow out of Hooch’s damp hair with a sudden big lump in his throat.

Everyone went to their rooms to get changed, kids and grown-ups alike, before lunch was ready. Hooch stood in the room in his briefs, toweling his hair, when Matt came inside from the bathroom.

Matt closed the door firmly, took the towel and gently helped with the job, the awkward bits where his extra inch of height helped. “I think my mother and sisters are about to nominate you for sainthood for keeping the kids out of the house.” He put the towel down. “Thank you,” he turned to take Hooch in his arms. Even though he hated himself for deflating the mood, he asked because he had to: “what did that priest do to you?”

Hooch tensed and stepped out of the embrace. His face was closed off. “I’m not talking about this.”

Matt’s eyes fixed on him in worry, glad that he was between Hooch and the door. “Ok, fine, not now, but at least let me know if…well, I had no idea until last night when we got there and I would have come up with something else if…well…” who would have thought that there was one thing more awkward to talk about with Hooch apart from his need for ‘time out’.

“Let it go, Matt.” Hooch’s facial expression softened, as he kept his gaze on Matt. “Let it go, okay?” His voice gentled, reaching out to gather Matt back into the embrace. His lips moved against Matt’s neck as he murmured, “the past is the past. Let it stay there.”

Matt nodded into Hooch’s shoulder, knowing when to leave something. He’d left it well alone for fifteen years already, hadn’t he? “Should get dressed. They’ll be calling us down soon.”

“I’m starving.” Hooch smiled as he let go of Matt once more. If the smile was a little forced, it wasn’t the worst of his attempts at it, not by a long shot. “Taking the kids out was probably a ploy by your mom to get me to eat even more than usual.”

“You should know that by now.” Matt stepped back and headed for the door, leaving Hooch a few precious minutes of privacy before he had to come down and face the horde again.

When Hooch appeared downstairs, he was dressed in a tailored button down shirt that Matt had never seen on him, and which must have cost shitloads, judging by the fabric and the way it fit perfectly. Clearly Hooch’s concession to the holidays. He was carrying a large manila envelope, which he placed onto the bedecked mantelpiece. Everyone else was already at the table, inviting him to sit at his customary place, right beside Matt.

For whatever reason, they skipped saying grace, and if Matt suspected that something was up, he didn’t let on, but sent his mother a grateful look all the same. If at all possible, the table was even more loaded with food than it had been at Thanksgiving, so much so that the sturdy solid hardwood table was groaning under the weight. As predicted, Hooch was the recipient of all over gratitude from his in-laws for keeping the children occupied so that the adults could get on with the task of getting the meal under way without having overly excited children and their new toys getting in the way.

The children kept chattering away about the ‘awesome battle’ they had had, and if Hooch received an occasional not-wholly-approving look from one of the parents, it was quickly tampered by the relief and the knowledge that this man, no matter what Matt’s family might sometimes think about the quiet Texan officer, was probably the most reliable and safest choice to have around their kids. Besides, there was Matt, and everyone around the table knew without the shadow of a doubt that Hooch Bozic was devoted to Matt.

Hooch was more relaxed now, comfortable with Matt’s family through the repeated exposure over the years. The loud, happy, loving family with its perceptive matriarch who had taken him in without a question or a murmur. It was when he moved to reach for another serving of the mashed potatoes, that Matt realized that the fabric of Hooch’s shirt, though not exactly thin, was of such fine weave that the shape of his nipple rings was just barely visible when he moved. Matt swallowed his bite of ham with difficulty, wondering if anyone else could see, or whether it was because he knew what Hooch was wearing underneath.

No one else gave any clues if they’d noticed or not, but they might simply be polite. Hooch, turned his head as he reached for the salt, and gave Matt one quick, sharp grin. For once, clearly not oblivious.

Matt shot him a look and looked down at his plate, listening to his brother talk about his upcoming ice-fishing trip to Alaska, nodding at all the appropriate places, because that was all Paul really wanted when he spoke about his beloved fish.

Stuffed to the gills, as usual at his parents’ house
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Matt was amazed that nobody in the family was fat, given the amount of food that everyone down to the smallest child seemed to enjoy. Dessert, however, was where his sisters had always concentrated their efforts, and it seemed that after the table had been cleared from the main meal, it was just as full of pies, cakes, home-made ice-cream and other sweets.

Hooch sat in his chair as if he was never going to be able to get up again, after Anne had ladled a third helping onto his plate, which he’d been too polite to refuse,. He groaned, trying to resist any of the desserts, but in the end he agreed to ice cream, hoping it would somehow fit. The strong coffee afterwards, followed by whisky or brandy for the adults, was much appreciated.

It wasn’t before they’d all retired to the collection of sofas, chairs, and cushions on the floor, with all of the kids engrossed once more in their toys and gadgets, that Hooch retrieved the thick manila envelope, and handed it to Matt with a simple, “Merry Christmas.”

Matt looked at him quizzically, because Hooch never really took the usual suggested timelines for presents, and bought things when he felt it appropriate, such as Rex coming several months before Matt’s actual birthday being fairly par for the course. He opened it, eyes wide, and dropped the entire pile of papers in shock once he read the heading on the first one.

Matt picked up the stack papers, all neatly ordered, and the little plastic card that had fallen out, before the rest of the family noticed what was happening. He flipped through the documents: will, powers of attorney, insurance documentation, pension documentation, bank accounts, investment accounts. Neatly set out in typeface, all the formalities that they could do to make their partnership official, everything short of what their state and Hooch’s job would permit. Matt looked across at his partner, stunned.

“Some of those you have to sign in front of witnesses who aren’t related to you,” Hooch said. Sounding casual to anyone but Matt, who knew him better than Hooch probably knew himself.

Matt nodded, still in disbelief. “
I…
” he swallowed. “Thank you.” He’d think of possible witnesses later, but for now still amazed at the thought behind Hooch’s actions. “I guess I should go and see your attorney too,” he said, knowing Hooch would understand that he’d reciprocate formally.

“It was all I could do.” A hint of insecurity in Hooch’s voice, very much unlike him.

“It’s more than…” Matt stopped again
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what was it with him being unable to think things through, “it is all that we can do.” Quite literally. Nothing else that could possibly be done, considering who they were and where they lived. “Thank you.” He looked down and carefully placed the precious documents back in the envelope before anyone else in the room noticed the quiet in their part of the room.

For the first time ever in front of Matt’s family, Hooch reached for Matt’s hand and squeezed it tightly. It was clear to Matt what Hooch would have rather done but didn’t dare to.

Matt squeezed back, then let go as Emily toddled up, large stuffed bear held close, completely smitten with Uncle Hooch, who smiled ruefully at Matt before picking up the little girl to sit on his lap.

September 2011, Fayetteville

It had been a pleasant summer away in Europe, first to Kisa’s wedding in Budapest—that had been a lot more enjoyable than they had envisaged—followed by a relaxed, sunny trip down the Adriatic coast. A respite from all the gloom and the doom, a reminder that there were still plenty of happy things going on in the world, and just how lucky they were. They returned home in early September, and settled back into life as it had been. The gym ran smoothly, still as popular as ever, and Matt was able to take more time off to indulge in his photography, which had turned out to be quite successful. Male nudes remained his specialty, with one particular body appearing more often than others, though he was very careful about publicizing his art, using a pseudonym.

He had been paying attention to the achingly slow progress of the repeal of DADT but hadn’t been involved as much as he would have like. One thing for him and Hooch to be an open secret at the base, quite another to be seen to be actively interested.

Hooch didn’t appear as if he had been interested at all, never mentioning the a potential repeal of DADT. He did his job like he’d always done, lived his life with Matt like he’d always lived it. He’d made Major a couple of years previous, increasingly working on a strategic level, which he’d learned to accept, because at fifty-one his body had begun to make him feel the extremes of his life.

Everything was as it had been, until Tuesday, 20th of September.

Hooch had gone to work early, leaving Matt in bed with a cup of coffee beside him. With the top news of the day firmly embedded in his mind, he dumped his pack on his desk first, before walking straight to his CO’s office.

“Major Bozic, what a surprise.” The man looked up. It had been three COs since Hooch had taken the instructor post, three men who could have been clones of each other.

“Good morning, Sir.” Hooch saluted, then sat down when indicated. “About the Ball at the end of the month…”

“Yes, Major?” The man looked slightly harried. He hadn’t been in his post long, and Hooch doubted that he knew very much about anything that wasn’t plainly in front of his face.

“I feel it necessary to inform you that I will bring my long-term partner for the first time.” Hooch looked at the man with an unreadable expression.

A glance look in his direction as the Colonel focused on him. “I fail to see…” he began, before it registered what Hooch was saying. The man blinked, as he remembered the news of the day, even though it felt like he’d been spending months at endless committee meetings on the topic. Another blink. “Ah. I see. That’s…” he swallowed, and a look of disbelief crossed his face before it was forcibly schooled back to neutrality. “Forgive me’ Major, this is somewhat unexpected.”

“With all due respect, Sir, but from what I understand, you must be one of the very few personnel on base for whom this will be unexpected.” Hooch’s face was still in neutral.

The Colonel opened and closed his mouth several times as though discarding the first few responses before settling rather feebly for: “I appreciate that you are telling me in advance, Major.” Treading water while trying to get his lagging brain into order, to process both new pieces of intelligence. “I presume,” he hesitated just a fraction on the pronoun, “your partner is aware of the etiquette?”

“Etiquette?” Hooch tried very hard to keep his poker face, but a grin was threatening to break out. “I assure you that he does. He is a former US Marine and first Gulf War veteran where, incidentally,” Hooch’s blasé air was spoiled by his grin, “we met.”

“I see,” the Colonel said faintly, and it was clear that he was trying very hard not to see. “Twenty years,” he said, almost to himself. “I…” he stopped, “that was a remarkable exercise in discretion.”

Hooch settled back in his chair. “The first seven were easy, we didn’t live together. The second thirteen were trickier, but I had help on base. Seems that ignoring anything and everything has been a specialty of my boys.” Hooch sat up straight once more. “Are you familiar with my military record, Sir?”

The Colonel had given up trying to hide his shock and simply stared and nodded. “Yes, I am very aware of it, Major.”

“Would you say I served my country well?”

“Of course.” Not quite knowing but suspecting where the conversation was going, but without a way to avoid answering the simple truth to the simple question.

“So, you wouldn’t think I have been a bad influence on the morale of my men in any way.”

A look, unreadable. “No, of course not.” The words almost forced out.

“Just checking.” Hooch stood up. “If you don’t need me for anything else, Sir, I’d better get to work.”

“Yes,” the Colonel echoed faintly, still not quite believing his ears. “Thank you for telling me, Major. I…ummmmm,” he blinked, and tried to finish the sentence. “I look forward to meeting…uhm…Mr…” he trailed off.

“Donahue, Sir. Matt Donahue.” Hooch saluted and strode out of the office with a shit eating grin on his face.

The Colonel watched him go, paused for a second, and then opened the bottom drawer of his desk filing cabinet for his hidden bottle of bourbon.

Hooch didn’t realize he was whistling as he strode along to the cafeteria to grab his morning coffee. Nor did he notice the dumbfounded looks from the other personnel as he passed them. Major Bozic, cheerful, was a sight rarely seen.

“Sir?” a voice somewhere to the left of Hooch called out.

“Yeah?” Hooch turned his head, about to step into the canteen.

“Is everything alright, Sir?” there was a look of disbelief on the speaker’s face.

“Fuck, yeah.” Hooch grinned, “didn’t you hear the news?”

“News?” the Captain parroted. Major Bozic grinning was news in itself.

“DADT got repealed.” Hooch turned and walked through the open door, leaving the Captain standing.

“Sir?” the Captain called after him, then followed, lengthening his stride. “Sir?” he called again coming up to Hooch. “Yes…but?”

Hooch huffed a laugh. “I’m gay, Captain.” He grinned as he turned into the self-service lane.

The Captain’s jaw dropped momentarily at the pronouncement, before closing with a click. He wasn’t the only one who had heard Hooch’s proclamation, and a buzz began to spread through the room.
Hooch silently grinned to himself as he filled his cup. He was fifty-one years old, he’d served his country all his life, and for many years he’d even laid it on the line. He deserved some fun on account of others.

* * *

The day continued as it had begun, with Hooch amusing himself with the same bluntness. He might be a desk jockey these days, but he still managed to get all of Fort Bragg talking, and wasn’t it ironic that all it took was saying out loud his partner was a man.

He remained in excellent spirits on the drive home. When he got back to the gym, Matt was in the reception area, leaning over the desk, talking to Mandy.

He looked up at Hooch’s entrance, noting the rare grin. “What’s up?”

“This.” Hooch dropped his pack on the floor, stepped towards Matt, took his face into his hands, then proceeded to kiss him deeply. In the middle of reception, right in front of staff and customers.

The cheering, hooting and hollering was deafening by the time Matt recovered from his shock and pushed Hooch away. “I take it that means we’re now out.” He said, rather redundantly.

“It would look more convincing if you didn’t push me away.” Hooch grinned as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, ignoring Mandy’s delighted giggle that would have otherwise scraped his nerves raw.

“You think?” Matt raised an eyebrow before reaching for Hooch and plastering himself against the leaner man, returning the kiss with equal enthusiasm.

The noise crescendo started up once more, Mandy’s voice cutting through it all as she delivered a cheerleader-worthy encouragement. Hooch was breathless and laughing when they broke the kiss, only now noticing how the training rooms had emptied and a crowd was filling the reception area. There wasn’t a single person that didn’t show approval. The gym attracted loyal members. “Twenty years with that kid, how did I survive that?” Hooch smirked.

Matt laughed. “Come on, old man, I think this calls for a more private celebration. Clear the way, guys.” Taking Hooch by the arm and pulling him towards the door to the apartment.

One of the regulars shouted: “DADT repealed, huh?” Others clapped as Hooch raised a thumb, the last bit of him that was still visible before Matt had pulled him through the door and up the stairs.

Bursting into the door at the top of the stairs, Matt preceded Hooch into the room by barely a step. “What brought all that on?”

“The guy downstairs got it right.” Hooch flashed a grin. “You didn’t think I was following the whole thing, did you?”

Matt blinked. “Oh God, you told everyone on base today, didn’t you?” barely a question.

“Yeah.” Hooch grinned, smug from head to toe. “I started with my CO.”

“And went all the way down to the janitor.” Matt groaned. “How did they take it?”

“It didn’t seem to be a surprise to many. Worst secret of Fort Bragg.” Hooch shrugged.

Matt shook his head, but a smile was beginning to emerge. “Just when I thought you couldn’t pull any more crazy stunts.” He stepped closer and put his arms around Hooch’s neck. “I believe I promised a private celebration,” the smile was full-blown now.

“I believe you did.” Hooch placed his hands onto Matt’s hips. He really should tell Matt about the Mess dinner, but he wasn’t going to spoil the sex he was about to get.

“Bedroom?” Matt disengaged from Hooch and headed in that direction without waiting for a reply, shedding his clothes along the way.

Hooch followed suit, chuckling as he worked his way out of his uniform. “Guess I’m getting too old for carpet burn.”

* * *

Matt was half-asleep, in a sated post-coital haze, playing with one of Hooch’s nipple rings. “You’ve got something on your mind,” a statement as Hooch stared at the ceiling.

Arms behind his head, Hooch lay stretched out in all his smooth and tattooed glory, a feast for Matt’s eyes. “Yeah, I told my CO I’ll bring my partner to the next Ball.” Hooch let the words stand in the room, sounding casual, but there was minute tensing of his muscles beneath Matt’s fingers.

The fingers stilled. “Did you now?” Matt’s eyes snapped open, instantly wide awake. “And what did your CO say to that?”

“He’s looking forward to meet you in a couple of weeks.” Hooch replied with a straight face.

“Oh, I’m sure he does,” Matt replied drily. “So, I’m the ‘plus one’ now, am I?”

“Haven’t you always been for the last thirteen years?”

“I guess I have.” Matt smiled, his fingers started moving again. “When is it?”

“Last Saturday this month.” Hooch craned his head to look at Matt. “You OK with that?”

An affectionate snort. “I suppose I am.” he paused. “Be weird, actually, Officer’s Mess and all.”

“Is that weirder than being there as my partner?”

“Each as weird as the other, actually.” Matt replied, before turning over to his belly so he could look Hooch in the eye. “I’ll come, with one condition: I get to choose what you wear—under your uniform.”

Hooch’s brows rose. He didn’t say anything for a moment, then replied with a firm: “yes.”

“Good,” Matt nodded, “I might just come up with something special.”

Hooch huffed. “I’m sure you will. My body is proof of that.”

Matt grinned smugly and shifted onto his side. “And now I really need a nap after all that.”

Hooch leaned across to kiss Matt’s shoulder. “I go feed Rex.”

“Huummph” Matt murmured sleepily in agreement, dropping off.

October 2011, Fayetteville

Ten days later, the afternoon of the Ball, Matt was looking through their toy cabinet, while Hooch had an appointment with Pam for his regular full body wax. Hooch’s well-edited toy collection had long since outgrown the bottom drawer of the bedside table, and had expanded to a wide selection that took up the space of a double-door wardrobe.

Matt touched the collection of leashes, all black leather, from when he’d have Hooch curl at his feet at the club, like some enormous pet panther, obedient and yet patently dangerous. The drawer of neatly arranged collars, though the first one from the pet store, its leather supple and worn, still had pride of place. The polished metal cock cages and chastity devices, made to measure. The collection of piercing rings and bars, and the weights to go with them. The containers of dildos and butt plugs in various sizes and materials. The wands, metal rods and hollow tubes in differing lengths and thickness, some of them to be secured via the piercing holes, others to fuck his cock. Going through them all, pondering what he might put on Hooch that night.

He could choose a collar, but the risk of glimpses of the collar being seen was small but there, so he abandoned it in favor of pondering things placed further down: he could choose nipple rings with weights that would pull on Hooch all night, which would have him in definite discomfort. His gaze fell on the brand new chastity device that looked like something out of sci-fi movie in polished chrome, which would mean that Hooch’s cock was kept under control all night.