Frank smiled at the frying pan and sort of gestured to the French press. He glanced over at Billy, saw the way his skin caught the light for a second, and he was gone. Totally lost. How was he supposed to make it through fifteen months in close quarters with this guy without anyone knowing that he absolutely adored this man?

He'd manage. They'd made it through Basic and SOI. They'd make it through tour.

"I don't think they've got good coffee in the MREs, man," he said. "We might be shit out of luck for the next year. I'll just have to treat you nice when we get back."