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When Gabriela asks to meet at their usual spot after he gets back to camp after the whole bridge debacle he initially doesn’t think anything of it, not really, not until he is sneaking out, not until he walks to their spot. The feeling of something being off is confirmed when he walks into the clearing and sees not Gabriela in her coat standing there, but Manny. Bode freezes, staring at the man, not wearing his Cal Fire clothes, but dressed in civilian gear, looking more beat down and torn apart than Bode has ever seen before.
“Cap,” Bode says, voice sounding loud in the quiet of the evening.
Manny looks at him, eyes still haunted, like they were out there when they found Bode and Gabriela in the woods, like they were before Gabriela responded to care.
“Captain, what’s wrong? Did something happen to Gabriela?” Bode asks, stepping closer.
Manny shakes his head no and sniffs, eyes shining even in the darkness. “Not here.”
Bode furrows his brow in confusion, taking another step forward, “Not here?”
Manny puts his hands on his hips and looks up at the sky in the clearing for the moment, as if willing the tears on the edge of his vision not to fall, “I’m not your captain here. Not here. Not right now.”
“Cap-” Bode begins, trying to get closer, wondering what this is all about.
“Bode,” Manny says, looking Bode in the eyes and everything that has been unsaid between them, everything unspoken over the past few months comes spooling out in that look. Bode can see the affection and tenderness and love and want and connection they have been burying under camaraderie and hiding in the appropriate venues of respect between a firefighter inmate and his captain. But here in the dark, alone in the woods, in the gaze of Manny’s eyes Bode can feel every touch that they never had and hear every word they have bitten back and it slams into his chest and he can’t breathe for a moment.
“Bode,” Manny says again, voice cracking, an awful look on his face as though he’s fighting some horrible internal pain.
“Manny,” Bode replies, frozen, letting all his affection spill forth, trying to wrap his voice around those two syllables with every tender piece of care he still has in his heart and something breaks in Manny’s face.
“I don’t know if I can do it anymore,” Manny says. “I don’t know if I am strong enough.”
Bode isn’t following, too overwhelmed with everything. “I-I don’t follow.”
“I almost lost you out there! I almost lost you and Gabriela,” Manny says, the words sounding like they are being ripped painfully from his throat, pulling out chunks of his heart as he spits them into the night. “I had to watch you two go over the side of a bridge on a call that I should have done better on.”
“Manny,” Bode says as he reaches out to touch him, to console him, but Manny steps back, something a little wild in his eyes.
“I can still hear the sound of your dad trying to reach for you in that car,” Manny says, voice full of pain, eyes closing, lost in the memory of it. “Of the car sliding off the side of the bridge. When I close my eyes, I just see you falling off the edge over and over again. When I try to sleep I just imagine you and Gabriela out there in the woods, I see her so still and cold.”
Bode grabs Manny’s arm, startling his eyes open. “We made it out, okay? We’re here. We’re safe. We’re okay. Gabriela’s fine. I’m fine.”
Manny nods and wipes at his face. “You see I got to hug my daughter and tell her how much I love her. I got to hold her and check on her after all of this. I got to know she was going to sleep safe at night in a warm bed knowing how loved she is. Everything spoken.”
Bode freezes, but Manny barrels on, grasping at the arm Bode extended to him like a lifeline.
“But in the moments before she jumped in after you and even while we were looking for both of you out there in the dark I kept thinking to myself about everything we haven’t said.”
“Cap,” Bode says.
“No. Not here. Not right now. Not after all of this. Please, Bode,” Manny says, stepping into Bode’s space.
Bode can feel the heat radiating off of him, even through all of his layers, can smell his clean and spicy scent, can feel his breath on his face. He is right there in front of him and the aching part of him that wants Manny, that needs him, demands satisfaction. Bode wants to pull him in tight and not let go, not for a long time. He wants to melt into the warmth promised to him and let himself just feel and be. He wants to just be Bode and Manny.
Bode slides his hand up Manny’s arm and uses it to grasp the back of his head, taking a moment to wonder where Manny got the beanie he’s wearing because it brings out the color of his eyes even in the lowlight, before bringing Manny’s forehead to his. He feels Manny’s sigh, feels the way Manny presses his forehead against Bode’s as Bode works his thumb back and forth against the nape of Manny’s neck, rubbing a soothing pattern against the skin he’s been dying to touch for so long.
“Okay, Manny,” Bode says, his own voice shaky, feeling unmoored despite being so close to his anchor, to his lighthouse. “Okay.”
Manny loosens his death grip on Bode’s arm in order to wrap his arms around Bode’s shoulders, taking in deep breaths, relaxing into the hold, letting go of the tension Bode has seen him carry on his shoulders for weeks now, Bode almost forgetting what it looked like when him drops the weight of the world, shrugs off his titanic burden. Bode aches as he holds him in the dark, angry at himself and the world that stops him from being able to do this openly. Because it soothes Bode to, it fills the cracks of himself that he didn’t even know were coming apart, calms the aches, eases the yearning that he has grown to live with inside of his chest.
Bode does not know how long they stand there holding each other, just breathing together, foreheads pressed together in the dark. Bode would live in the moment forever, wishing he could bottle up this feeling for days when it is rough and for when he doubts himself and feels the world doubt him, so he can just bask in the pure feeling of being wanted and being needed and of wanting and needing in equal measure. But eventually when Manny shifts and begins to pull away so does Bode, reluctant as he is to let this moment drop, hand still at the back of Manny’s head.
“Bode,” Manny whispers, voice rough with emotion, the sound of it sending tingles down Bode’s spine.
Bode can’t look Manny in the eyes, staring down at his chest. He’s afraid of what will happen, what he will see there. His control is hanging on by a thread, the boundaries that they have put in place are disappearing and Bode does not know if he is strong enough right now to hold the line.
Manny lets go of his shoulders and brings a hand to Bode’s chin, tilting Bode’s face up to look at him. Bode thought he has seen everything Manny feels for him, but the look on his face simultaneously feels like a high and gut punch.
“I know,” Bode chokes out, unable to look away from Manny’s gaze, hoping his own face is naked with the love he has for his captain, his friend, his mentor, his fucking compass. It’s more than attraction and chemistry. Manny can reach inside Bode can make him care, push him to be a better leader, a better person, sees all the failures and broken parts of him and still believes in him. It does not matter that he has never said it, he knows. He is so changed by it he cannot imagine a world that is not changed in turn.
Manny laughs. “You still haven’t let me say it.”
Bode smiles with regret and sadness as he replies, “I think if we say it it’ll just make it harder.”
“It’s already hard, Bode. Please,” Manny continues earnestly. “The job we do, the risks we face. I don’t know how I could live with myself to know we were so close and didn’t fucking do anything about it.”
Bode tries to pull away, letting go of Manny, but Manny holds him there, gripping his arms tight. Bode knows what it is like to lose someone too soon, too young, to leave things unspoken. But there are reasons they can’t. Reasons they don’t. Manny could lose his job. Bode could be sent back to Lompoc, losing his chance at parole. Manny could end up in worse trouble if aspersions are made. They both have served time, both know people who would not hesitate to weaponize and abuse the authority Manny has over Bode and his fate, let alone in something so intimate and delicate as this. There’s been an agreement. They have never said anything out loud, never did anything, the promise of tomorrow and when Bode gets out, returns to Cal Fire hanging there, nebulous, tantalizing. They can wait. Life has beaten patience into the both of them. But here, right now, everything so tumultuous and rough, knowing how close death is, it’s hard to see the long of it. It’s hard to want to play it smart.
“You know how-” Bode begins, torn up at the thought that maybe Manny doesn’t know, maybe he can’t see it, maybe Bode has been too good at hiding it, too concerned about the consequences that he has even fooled the man standing right here.
“I do,” Manny says, releasing one of Bode’s arms, moving his hand up to cup Bode’s face, thumb stroking his cheek. Bode wants to melt into the touch, wondering how long it's been since someone has held his face like this. “I know, Bode. You have to know I do. And I do too.”
Bode nods. “Then why do you have to say it?”
Manny looks at Bode like he is trying to see to the very depths of his soul as he holds him there and Bode fights the urge to shy away under the prolonged scrutiny. “Because we don’t know if we’ll ever get the chance. And I don’t want my biggest regret to be that I never told you that I love you when I got the chance.”
Bode lets out a small pained noise at the confession, titling his head into the pressure of Manny’s hand on his face. “How am I supposed to go back to normal after this?” he asks, voice thick.
Manny smiles, eyes shiny again. “I don’t know. When you find out you tell me. I think I was lying to myself that I could be normal about this. But I can’t. I love you and I know we can’t-”
Bode surges forward, cupping Manny’s face with his hands, kissing him, chasing the ‘I love you’ with his lips, wanting to taste it, wanting to savor it if this is the only one he’ll ever get. It takes Manny a second to respond, but then he kisses back and he kisses Bode like he’s been starving, like he’s on fire and Bode is the oxygen he needs to burn. And Bode burns, pulling Manny against him, letting him have this, letting him indulge in this moment, letting him just feel Manny against him, letting him taste him on his tongue, feel that damn mustache against his face, hear what he sounds like when he is being kissed for all he is worth.
Bode pulls back and Manny chases for a moment, pupils blown as he pants, hands clutching at the front of Bode’s coat.
“I love you,” Bode says, leaning in, nuzzling his nose against Manny’s, fighting the urge to steal another kiss.
“I love you,” Manny replies, tracing his thumb along Bode’s bottom lip.
Bode tries to memorize everything about this moment too, knowing he won’t have anything like this again for a long while. He takes in his red mouth and spit shiny lips and way Manny looks when is kiss drunk and files it for when he has time alone in his shower to replay for the months until his parole, knowing that the closest he’ll get to touching him anytime soon, but it has to be enough. This has to be enough.