thank you nonnie! love me some icefick in the morning! 

hope you enjoy! 

two weeks before nate went back stateside, he’d written brad a letter. 

it wasn’t much, barely a page in total, but it was the most important thing he felt he’d ever write in his life. 

harsh lines littered various sentences he deemed too frivolous or too sentimental before he abandoned all hesitation and just wrote, concisely and simply, what he needed brad to know. what he knew he couldn’t leave without saying…or writing.

in the end, it didn’t matter what he said because brad already knew. 

years of being together in combat were enough for brad to be able to read nate from two klicks out.  

and in the end, it didn’t matter because all brad said, albeit a little hesitantly, was, “i can’t.”

and nate understood and he accepted it. he hadn’t hoped for anything more than the soul-crushing rejection, so it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. brad was staying on anyway and nate was going back to the states. and though that sat like a hundred-pound stone in nate’s stomach every day, he knew that had he stayed, he would’ve lost who he was. nate was willing to give brad everything, except that. 

but some innate part of nate, held onto the look in brad’s eyes before he rejected nate. the look that told him that brad felt something but he wasn’t ready to confront it.

and that is something nate counted on because as much as brad could read nate, nate could read him just as well, if not better.

which is why nate hastily scribbled the final part of the letter onto the scrap paper he’d found.

when you’re ready. santa monica pier. 4 p.m. i’ll be there. 

no date. no restrictions. they never had any and they weren’t going to start now. 

i’ll wait.

those two words sat on the back of the page and nate  only hoped that brad read them when or if he read the letter again. 

so nate continued on. he got an apartment, a dog named trevor and there’s a cat that hangs out on his fire escape whom with trevor will share his food. he gets a simple job, a motorcycle, and he tries to live happily. he sees ray, walt, gunny, pappy, and rudy semi-regularly, but it always feels like a piece is missing and nate sometimes end up wallowing in memories of brad. 

but still, everyday, at 4 p.m., he’s on the santa monica pier and he will walk for an hour. even when he knows there’s no way brad could even physically be there.

he made a promise and he wasn’t going to break it.

and that’s how he continues on for three years. 

ray and pappy try to set him up with other people and he tries, for their sakes, but his “dates” know it won’t work from the moment he starts talking about brad. he wishes he could move on. he knows that ray and gunny are worried about him as much as they’re worried about brad, but he’d made a promise. he would hold that promise until brad got back. 

and it’s on an unassuming, but increasingly challenging tuesday in the middle of may that nate is late for the first time in three years, four months, and nineteen day. 

he had to lead a workshop the entire day. his phone died the moment he tried to call ray who had left him 12 missed calls and by then it was 3:40 and he needed to get to the pier. at this point, it was a compulsion rather than a conscious decision. 

something about today felt different. while nate was speeding and weaving in and out of cars on his way to the pier, he couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something. at a red light he couldn’t run, he checked his watch and when he saw it read 4:15, he heart accelerated. for nearly three and a half year he was never late. as soon as the light turned green, he sped forward the last mile and half and double parked his bike. the moment the engine died his feet were speeding him down the pier and for the first time since this started, he looked for familiar blonde hair.

it was nearly 4:30 and as he scoured the pier, out of breath and looking frantic, he realized that he was alone. 

again. 

like he’s been for the past three years. 

he walks all the way down to the last bench, furthest away from people, and sits down heavily. 

he doesn’t cry, though he knows he wants to, but as the day settles down and his clock strikes closer to 5 p.m. something settles in him and he calms down. 

he closes his eyes and relaxes as the sun warms his skin. it reminds him of the desert and of soft touches, softer whispers, and the look in brad’s ice blue eyes saying everything and nothing at the same time, but still calming nate to his core in a matter of seconds. 

a strong sea breeze kisses his skin and the wind carries with it a smooth, deep voice that nate thinks he’s imagining until the tell tale sound of boots follow it. 

“you’re late.”

nate takes a solid minute before he opens his eyes.

and when his eyes connect with brads soft and bright ones, he gasps softly.

brad looks older, more tired, more battle-weary, but he looks healthy and whole and he’s here which is more than nate could have ever asked for, more than he could hope for. 

nate just stares and brad stares back and nate think of everything he wanted to say in the desert and everything he’s wanted to say since then, but all that comes out is a shaky breath.

then, “first time.”

brad laughs softly, “what?”

nate is still staring at brad, the sun silhouetted behind him and make brad look even more unfairly attractive than before. 

“i’m late for the first time in three years, four months, and nineteen days. and of course you choose today to show up, colbert.”

nate sighs deeply at looks back up to brad who is staring at him like he’s grown a second head. 

“you…” brad trails off before clearing his throat nervously and continuing, “every day?”

nate smiles softly as he nods, “i didn’t know when you’d be back,” he shrugs slowly, “i made a promise.”

brad kneels in front of nate, dark blue jeans scraping against the concrete and it takes nate a long moment to memorize brad in civilian clothing.

he reaches into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out a yellowed, slightly burned piece of paper, and nate’s hands shake as he runs his fingers along the singed edge.

nate smiles and blinks back the tears that have been threatening to spill over as brad speaks softly.

“i can’t believe you came here every day since you got back. that you’ve waited. that you remembered.”

the “me” at the end of the sentence went unspoken. nate knew brad and he knew how rare his vulnerability was shown. 

nate laughs, nervous and borderline hysterical, “did you think i forgot?”

nate grabs brad’s hand holding the letter and he smiles wide and bright and only for brad.

brad places his other hand over nate’s and cradles it softly as though anything harsher would break this moment.

brad looks into nate’s eye and immediately nate is taken back to the desert. his focus solely on brad’s eyes.

“nate, your commitment to me is the only thing i have absolute confidence in.”

brad looks a little shocked, as though the “to me” was supposed to be kept secret. 

nate doesn’t think, doesn’t breath as he brings his lips to brad’s.

the moment their lips touch, they both sigh as though they’ve just come home after a long day. 

there are no sparks, no fireworks, but more the entire puzzle falling into place. a split moment making every grain of sand, every scar, every sacrifice, everything they’d done to get to this moment completely worth it.

nate pulls back, panting softly, and places his forehead against brad’s.

“i’m sorry,” nate whispers, “i didn’t know what else to do.”

brad kisses him again, firmer and more serious, making nate’s face heat even more in the california sun.

“don’t ever apologize for that, nate. ever.”

nate nods again and links his fingers with brad’s.

“okay?”

brad nods with a bright smile.

nate has to ask what’s been pushing at his mind throughout their reunion.

“how long until you ship out again?”

brad pulls nate into his chest and kisses his forehead solely because he can.

“i’m not.”

nate pulls back sharply and stares at brad.

“what?”

“i’m out, nate. for good.”

nate laughs and jumps into brad’s arms and wraps his legs around brad’s waist. 

“thank fucking christ. if i had to wait any longer, i think i would’ve reenlisted.”

brad pulls nate to him roughly, “please don’t.”

nate shakes his head against brad’s collarbone, unaware of the people staring at them, “i’ve waited for you for so long brad, i’m not gonna leave now.”

nate pulls brad into another kiss before he feels his feet touch the ground again.

he laughs warmly as they walk hand in hand down the pier that had become nate’s second home over the past couple of years. 

“maybe ray and pap will stop trying to set me up with other guys now.”

he heard brad swearing as nate jogged towards the beach, sand under his feet and brad on his heels. 

the way it used to be and the way it would always be. 

together.