They sat around the firepit at Bagram air base. It was a quiet night after a few hectic days which had bled into each other.

Bravo and Charlie team were there at the same time. Which meant that they all had to suffer through Thirty-Mike's unreliable stories.

All of Bravo team were banged up to some degree.

Jason pressed a cold compress against his elbow. Ray leaned on his left armrest, his back had gotten some unwelcomed beating during a fall. Sonny was performing redneck first aid to his bruised right hand by having it wrapped around a cold one.

Trent felt low grade bruised all over. His right shoulder being the worst, but it was just like a pulled muscle, nothing he couldn't handle.

Brock's left eye was swelled shut, and the bruising was painting the area dark purple.

Clay had required a few stitches.

And Metal had ended up limping pretty obviously after stepping in a pit.

123123123

Trent had kept an eye on Metal since he first had noticed the limping.

After they had gotten back to base, he had noticed the limping getting worse. After they sat down at the firepit, he had seen Metal shifting in his seat a few times, before he eventually loosened up the laces of his right boot. Then when that wasn't enough anymore, he started shifting around in his seat once more.

"If your ankle feels swollen, you should probably elevate it…" he shrugged as he met Metal's eyes.

"Not too bad…" Metal shrugged before twisting off the cap of the bottle he used to spit in when it would annoy other people if he just spit on the ground.

Trent rolled his eyes, "You stubborn jackass…"

A brief smile flashed across Metal's lips. Ever since their first moment of being a couple, that term had become one of endearment.

"Come on now, I'm getting tired of seeing you search for a less bothersome position to hold your leg in…" Trent sighed as he leaned forward and grabbed a hold of the fabric covering Metal's lower leg, a second later he had positioned his boyfriend's ankle and lower leg across his own lap.

"Bro, I'm good…" Metal frowned a bit, "You don't have to…"

"Just shut up and drink your beer…" Trent chuckled as he placed his left hand on top of Metal's leg.

"I swear, the two of you sound like an old married couple…" Thirty-Mike chuckled.

Most of the other guys chuckled a bit as well.

Trent took a sip of his own beer before he replied, "You guys try being the medic for people who don't know their own best interest…"

The Charlie team medic glared over at Charlie-5 for a brief second, then nodded. "Man, I know where you're coming from."

123123123

Time had crawled around to the small hours of the night, and everyone but Jason, Metal and Trent had turned in for the night.

"You know, you can be open about it now…" Jason shrugged after tossing another log into the firepit, "No one can bump you off the teams for it anymore. The policies changed, what, nine years ago?"

"Policy might've changed…" Metal nodded and looked over at Trent before looking back at Jason, "But there are still people out there who wouldn't like to know that the people they're bunking with likes this and that."

"On our team?" Jason furrowed his brows.

"No. Not our…" Trent shook his head and let his hand glide up and down Metal's shin, "But it's probably still safest to keep quiet about it. Besides, it's a nice secret to have."

Metal smiled, "Yeah. I like it too. No one questions it when we need some space from each other."

Trent chuckled, "You're still lucky my ego is hard to damage, you know that?"

Metal chuckled, "Yeah, I do have my antisocial caveman moments. I know those probably suck to be on the receiving end of."

Trent took a slow breath, "No… I know that's just something you need, it's not got anything to do about me."

"Yeah…" Metal nodded, "Still makes me feel a bit guilty from time to time."

"Nah, don't be." Trent winked back, "Means I don't have to fight you for the covers. That's nice as well."

Jason chuckled, "Ever heard of having two duvets?"

"He'll steal both…" Trent rolled his eyes as he jerked his thumb towards Metal.

"You know what, somehow I have no problem believing that."

Metal shrugged, "I'm usually asleep when I do so…"

Trent chuckled, before looking towards Metal's foot. He had taken the boot off for him a couple of hours ago, and the swelling of his ankle as pretty bad.

"It ain't that bad…"

Trent looked back up at him, "It's swollen as heck."

"I walked around on it for at least eight hours before we got back to base. I didn't exactly sit still when we got here either, not before the debrief, unpacking, going to the mess hall to get some grub… I still have to take a shower, or Brock will probably drop kick me if I even plan on going to sleep before washing the four-day mission stank off myself."

"You're pretty ripe…" Trent nodded with a soft grimace, "I'll admit that."

"I can smell myself, I know…" Metal frowned.

Trent let his left hand glide a little closer towards Metal's ankle, and his right brushed up against the sole of his foot. A slight pressure from his right hand caused Metal to pull his leg towards himself with a hiss.

"You think you're going to be able to walk anywhere?" Trent tilted his head as he guided Metal's leg back across his lap with his left hand.

"I wasn't prepared, alright."

"Want me to do it again?"

"No." Metal scowled. "I promise, it's just bruised and swollen…"

"-If you say so…" Trent shrugged, "But I still think you're gonna have some problems moving around without crutches or help. It's probably stiffened up a lot over the last couple of hours."

Metal nodded a little, "-You might be right about that…"

"I could go find some crutches for you." Jason offered, "And some less ripe clothes you can change into…"

"Yes, please… Find both…" Trent chuckled.

"You know, if I get a pair of crutches, I'm perfectly able to find clean clothes on my own." Metal shrugged.

"Yeah, but you won't exactly be in stealth-mode, and Brock doesn't sleep like a log." Trent chuckled.

"Okay, fair."