Moths and Men: Dave & Jesse, #1
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About this ebook
Now that Dave's tour of duty is over, he just wants to forget about 'Nam...and stop the nightmares. A new friendship and a new job offer him hope. Especially when Dave's growing feelings for his friend just might be mutual.
A sweet gay romance or sweet m/m romance set during the Vietnam War era.
Length: 19,000 words
Heat level: Low
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Moths and Men - Hollis Shiloh
Moths and Men
by Hollis Shiloh
The little town was alight with the glow of the sun going down. Dave slung his bag over his shoulder and followed the other passengers off the bus. He looked around the town's landscape, automatically searching for places of ambush. All he saw were civilians walking around without concern.
He hadn't gone home. Now that his mother was gone, there was no reason to return to the rough, hardscrabble town where he'd clawed his way from birth to adolescence. Besides, there was nothing to do there but go in the mines, and wasn't that why he'd signed up for the military? First day he was legal, not even waiting to see if he'd be drafted.
Maybe not his smartest choice. War turned out to be a special kind of hell, even if it didn't take place underground.
Nearby, a couple of little kids played kickball. The sight made fear flutter in his belly like trapped moths. But it was just kids, no danger, no bombs. He walked past, not looking at them.
He just wanted to forget the war, to start living again.
His growling guts reminded him that food needed to come before showering the stink off. He pushed open the door of the first diner he found. A small place, with the 'D' newer than the other letters, and the 'R' crooked on the end, looking about ready to fall off.
The bell tinkled as he opened the door. He stopped. The place was full. Rock blared over the speakers. Burly men hunched over coffee cups and enormous sandwiches. Everyone ate with a grim intent.
Great. It's crowded.
Even the booths and tables were all occupied. He hesitated a moment, wondering if there was a place in the back he could sit alone and unobtrusive.
Hey,
said someone. He whipped around to stare at a stranger. The slim man at a nearby booth motioned for him to come nearer. The booth was cluttered across from him with dirty dishes that had yet to be cleared away. The man pushed some of them back so there'd be room across from him. Sit here. You can get your food the same time as me. Then you won't have to wait.
He stared at the stranger for a long moment. Handsome, smiling, friendly. Dave felt an unwanted, wistful twist of longing. He'd almost forgotten this feeling, had thought maybe the war really did knock it out of him.
But in spite of himself, he found this guy's face immediately appealing. He looked youthful, maybe Dave's age, maybe younger, but there was something about him. He looked open-faced and kind, but with an edge of street-smart and clever, seemed like he smiled naturally and a lot. He had gray eyes and gleaming black wavy hair. A handsome, wiry man, probably about Dave's height.
He motioned again for Dave to come closer. There's room, see?
He nodded to the other side of the booth. I don't bite.
Dave's tired legs dragged him over to the booth. He sat like an automaton and tried to smile. Thanks.
'Nam, right?
asked the man, observing him with a sympathetic expression.
He winced, remembering the people in the airport who'd shouted Baby killer!
But this guy's gaze held interested sympathy. Yeah. You?
He shook his head. Flat feet and dicky heart. But you guys have my sympathy. Been back long?
Dave swallowed. He shrugged.
Okay.
He smiled wryly. I'll shut up and let you eat. Name's Jesse, by the way.
Dave nodded. Dave. Pleased.
He reached across for a handshake and tried not to feel anything more than a stranger meeting a stranger. Jesse had a nice hand, warm, lean, and strong.
Jesse fell silent. It was less awkward sitting there across from him than Dave had expected. He even managed not to think about finding the dark-haired man attractive.
The service came slowly from a plump, harried waitress in a dirty apron. She pushed back a lock of greasy, blondish hair and held her waitress pad, slouching.
I'll have a turkey sandwich, tomato soup, and coffee, please,
said Jesse, sitting up straight and alert.
She made a note and nodded, then turned to Dave. For a moment, his mind was awfully, terribly blank.
Uh, the same,
he managed. What had he ordered? He glanced at Jesse after she left, and then dropped his gaze. He lowered his head to his hands, raking fingers back through his hair.
Hey, don't worry. The food's good here.
He nodded but kept his head down, not wanting to look at anyone, not wanting to think about anything. He tried to steady his breathing, keep it calm, keep it certain. Not going to think about anything. Not going to think . . . There was a loud buzzing in his ears . . .
Something touched his arm.
He jerked away, yanking back into a defensive posture, hands turning to claws to defend himself. What?
Food's here,
said Jesse, drawing back. He was already chewing. Dave gazed down at the meal in front of him and realized he was somehow still hungry. He picked up the spoon.
A few minutes later, the food warm in his stomach, the taste of tomato and coffee still in his mouth, he sat back and heaved a quiet sigh, feeling much more human. That was good.
Yeah, there's a reason it's so crowded.
Jesse smiled at him. Want some pie?
Dave thought about his job prospects and his dwindling cash. He shook his head. No, thanks.
Suit yourself.
Jesse motioned the waitress over again and gave her a charming smile. Hey, two pieces of pie, please. Boston crème if you have it, apple if you don't.
She nodded again without speaking and clattered their