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The following work of fiction contains graphic homosexual interaction, violence and non-consensual sex. With this work of fiction the authors do not condone in any way any form of intolerance and injustice, e.g. racism, sexual harassment, incitement of hatred, religious hatred nor persecution, xenophobia and misogyny. Neither do the authors through this work of fiction promote violence nor make light of such grave matters as genocide, any taking of human life, murder, execution, rape, torture, persecution of sexual orientation.

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September 1991, Thailand

Five 'o clock. Vadim opened his eyes to the grey pre-dawn room, felt Dan wrapped around him, Dan's face against his neck. Spooning. Dan. His. Life and living. Mission accomplished. He had him back. No more feeling hollow and empty and hurting, no more. Peace. Till death doth us part. He turned, looked at Dan sleeping there, and thought they should stay out of the wars, the Gulf, or whatever fucking place decided to blow up next. Stay the hell away because these wars were just inviting disaster to happen. They should try and live in peace.

He idly ran his fingers through Dan's hair, then turned some more and kissed him on the brow, nose, lips. "I'll go for a swim."

Hardly any reaction from Dan, just a nonsensical mumble, before he rolled into the warm space vacated by Vadim. Curled up into the thin bedclothes, his wild hair entangled on the pillows. Dark and silver streaks, barely visible in the murky light to come.

Vadim found the speedos, glanced back over his shoulder, but Dan was sleeping on, relaxed, except for one fist, the right one, that lay beside his head. Couldn't help but smile at the image, and more at the thought that Dan would be like this when he returned. Like he'd never been a soldier, just somehow had shed all military time keeping. He'd order breakfast on the way back.

* * * * * * *

When Vadim returned, the sun was lighting up the entire room, creating swirling patterns on the wooden floor, with the breeze blowing the light gauze curtains into the room. The smell of cigarette smoke was wafting across the wide open space, a sign that Dan was awake. Lying in the very middle of the vast bed, legs open, pillows in his back, and arms flopped by his side, lifting his head at the noise. His face was expressionless, until he caught sight of Vadim and his lips began to curve slightly, brighten, light touching his dark eyes, finally smiling.

Vadim shed the speedos on the way in, walked past to toss them into the bathtub and gather two towels, one of which he slung around his waist, drying himself with the other. "A penny for your thoughts."

"I've never seen the scar." Dan's answer came as swift as a bullet. Didn't move anything but his eyes that followed Vadim's movements.

Vadim paused, feeling oddly self-conscious about the scar. He knew at once which scar. The other scar Dan had given him. It had healed pretty well, all told. "I guess … you want to?" Cautious, not sure how to read Dan now. Didn't want to lie down and open up and get fucked. Not now. Too fast. The bitch that lay down at a mere gesture, ready to take it and get fucked.

I wonder if I can make a masochist suffer for real. Does this make you hard, Krasnorada? Should I be less gentle?

"Why not?" Dan smiled, confusion flickered across his face, before it was gone again and he pulled himself up to sit. As unselfconscious as ever. He held a hand out, palm up, open. Beckoning. "You were gone when I woke." His voice didn't hold accusation nor question.

"Yes, I was swimming." Vadim stepped forward, then lay down next to Dan, one towel still in place, but he let the other slip from his hand.

"No, really?" Dan rolled his eyes with a grin. "I wouldn't have noticed, with you all wet and in those things that are a mere excuse for swimming trunks."

"There will be breakfast in half an hour." Vadim turned his head, looked at Dan and smiled. Felt slightly reluctant as he took the towel off, still wanted Dan and always would, but at the same time that submission, that acceptance, just didn't come. Like his body had forgotten how good it felt. Like he was some weird kind of virgin again, reluctant, but willing.

"I missed you, waking." Dan turned his head, but remained on his back, merely lifting his arm to lazily run his hand down along Vadim's shoulder, arm, flank.

Vadim placed a hand against Dan's chest, saw the 'V' scar on Dan's arm when he moved it, and thought all will be good, we have the scars to prove it.

"How did it heal?" Dan murmured, as if reluctant to breach anything that touched the subject of Vadim's imprisonment.

"Took a while." Vadim felt that tightness in his throat again. "They gave me an examination after they brought me in. They were thorough." Bend over, bitch. They'd checked everything, every place inside and outside. As if he'd hide a gun in any of those unlikely places.

Dan twitched, had been too late to hide the reaction. "That means they saw … knew …" he shook his head, "Fuck, they knew anyway. That Colonel bastard told me about the camera." He wanted to shudder, instead just narrowed his eyes.

"Yes." The trial. The transcription, read out to him, to mock and humiliate him further.

What makes a man want to be cut? Explain to me, Vadim Petrovich, how you could possibly have wanted to be treated like that, used and abused and injured by an enemy?

"After the medical, they put me away for a few hours, and then warmed me up for the first … talk."

Dan's hand rested on Vadim's hip, a heavy, warm reminder. "Did they break anything?"

Vadim shook his head. "I wasn't raped." He felt himself choking on the next words. Couldn't say them. Couldn't.

"I didn't ..." mean that, Dan meant to say, but never finished the sentence. Waited instead, still, except for his fingers, curling and uncurling on the tautness of Vadim's hips. Waiting, for what, he wasn't sure, but for something that couldn't but should be said.

Vadim forced himself to breathe, keeping his eyes closed, body went rigid without him noticing, like bracing against a kick or punch. "… they said I'd enjoy it too much." He tried to turn over, lie on his side, wanted to get the words back, and couldn't. What a fucking faggot.

"Huh?" Speechless, Dan held onto Vadim's body, kept him from rolling away. "Fucking what?"

Vadim was glad to be held, pressed against Dan but couldn't look at him, wanted to die, or crawl away, hide.

You will never recognize yourself, Vadim Petrovich. Never again. If you walk out there to be shot like you deserve, they will only finish you off. Because I am here to kill you. You'll be a dead man walking. I will kill your mind, your soul, your emotions. You will never again function. Never again will you pass for normal or even human.

"He said … they won't put me into prison because I'd enjoy … too much. Nobody there … touched me. Same reason. Because … I'd like it."

"That's the biggest fucking load of fucking bullshit I have ever heard. Did you believe that shit?" Dan's fingers curled on Vadim's skin until his hand formed a fist. "I don't claim I understand much of what Maggie told me about isolation, but it's goddamned motherfucking torture, Vadim, it's not because you like it. Who the fuck told you that?"

Torture. Yes. Vadim forced himself to breathe. It was hard, but he remembered how to. "I'll … be alright. Don't worry. I'm better than I've been in ages." Vadim forced every muscle to relax, turned to look into Dan's face, hoped he'd not see disgust, and what he saw looked like anger and worry. "I can function. It's … just the shit they did … with my mind. I'm operational." And that means soldiering and sex.

Dan shook his head in bewilderment. He didn't understand, just that something had happened there, which was beyond his comprehension because it had dug so deeply into Vadim, it couldn't simply be extracted. He was angry, wanted to slam that useless fist into the bastards' faces, smashing the skulls of those who'd done this … this whatever it was, to Vadim. This thing he could not understand, far greater and worse than anything they'd ever done to each other.

He lifted his hand, forced the fist to relax and open, touching the ridge of Vadim's nose. Asking without words if they'd broken any bones. The physical realm he could understand, but the mind?

"The doctor says I'm in fairly good shape for a man my age." Vadim reached up and took the hand, kissing the wrist, while Dan felt like trying to hold onto a slippery fish. Vadim still had not answered the question he'd asked for the second time.

Dan would make it whole again, Vadim thought. Nothing he couldn't cope with as long as Dan was there. Just forget it. Just try and find his feet again, and these sudden attacks would cease. He'd sleep like normal, would be able to do everything again. Free. He'd made it, shown he'd made it, and had escaped. It would all be good. Better not talk about it. The doctor could give better explanations anyway. "I brought the phone number. It's over there." Nodding towards the table. "And I think I just heard our breakfast arrive outside."

"OK," Dan nodded, "I'll phone the doc, soon." He turned his head towards the door, the breakfast had indeed arrived. Still, when he watched Vadim wrap himself into the towel once more, letting the waiter in, Dan kept thinking. He'd still not seen the scar, not even any kind of 'close-up', as if the other somehow avoided the scrutiny - of body and mind.

Vadim stood there and watched the waiter set up the table outside, gave a tip, and they were left alone again with enough food to feed a squadron of soldiers. He glanced back at Dan lying on the bed. Dan, who wanted to see the scar, and who was watching him. "Just didn't want to be interrupted", he murmured, and came back to the bed. Suddenly nervous, he took the towel off again and sat down on the bed, while Dan moved to sit. Vadim lay back, pulled one leg up and stretched out completely, relaxing.

Dan suddenly felt a strange awkwardness, as if he had to reacquaint himself with the other's body, his physical presence. Seemed Vadim felt similar, or perhaps even worse, in ways he could not understand. Despite the night before, for one painful moment Vadim felt like a stranger to him.

Eyes on the scar, the one letter, the cut that said 'mine'. "Are you?" Dan looked up, merely touching the scar with his fingertips. Tracing the clear-cut lines.

Vadim smiled at him. "Yes." Opened his legs further, knew it was an invitation, had the feeling things would be easier if they did. Wanted Dan to know it wasn't really all that different now, the basics were still in place. Didn't want to be hard to get, or hard to keep, mostly, not with Jean and Donahue only too willing to snap him up. Dan had other places to go. Other people. The fingertip tickled there, and Vadim studied Dan's face, who smiled.

The smile spread from Dan's lips to his eyes, until all darkness disappeared from his scarred face. "I do really fucking love you, you do understand that, don't you? With bells and whistles and 'till death' and all that shit."

"And I love … you." Whatever's left of me loves you. It's all I have left, Vadim thought, but it's enough to get me to the end. I know it will.

Dan dropped his voice while scooting closer, almost covering Vadim's body with his own. Lying between the open legs, his hand still resting on the scar. "If I touch you, back in camp or wherever the fuck else, I really don't give a shit what anyone thinks."

"You're just itching to get into trouble with the CO, aren't you? You know they will talk about it."

Dan shrugged, a feat in his position. "The CO can't do jack shit to me. As much as the bastard dislikes me, he doesn't have a chance in hell he'll ever get me kicked out. Anyone else? It's not like I'm eating your face off in public. Neither do we go on out on duty together. That'd be fucking lethal." He lowered his head, lips touching Vadim's chest, kissing his way slowly across and down. "No masks, comrade." Murmured, "No lies."

Vadim looked down, following Dan's trail of lips. Fuck. He'd forgotten how fucking good this felt. "No … lies." Live as a 'couple' in camp. There would still be weird comments, that was the general tone and feel there, but apart from sneering and the odd comment, what could happen. They'd both stood their ground alone … would anybody dare to challenge them once Mad Dog and … the crazy spetsnaz were 'back together'? Vadim groaned softly. "Dan …"

Lifting his head from Vadim's body, Dan murmured, "Aye?" He had reached the abs, and his path downwards allowed no hesitation.

Vadim breathed hard, muscles tight, lines forming under Dan, his body responding without questioning, without second thought. "I … missed … missed this so much …" He let his head fall back, pulled his legs up and kept them open, in case Dan wanted to fuck him like this. He didn't mind. Would be good. Would be so good.

"You have no fucking idea how much I missed this, too." Dan barely more than whispered, before concentrating once more on his task of kissing every inch of the exposed skin. Taking the open legs for an invitation, even though he was not sure anymore if the old signs were still valid.

He took his time, because they had this now, finally: the greatest luxury of all. Time. Reaching the smooth skin, softest silk and warmth, with recoiled strength beneath. Lips and tongue tracing the lines he had cut, over two years ago, making Vadim groan, cock hardening, in full view of Dan, who suddenly stopped. Lifting his head and peering at Vadim's face from across his body. "I've always used protection since … just so you know. I'm still clean."

Vadim glanced at him. Strange to say that. Clean? Oh. The AIDS thing. That disease faggots and junkies got. Always used protection. Donahue. Jean. And whoever else besides. Would have preferred to not know, not be told. Never spared a thought for that. "Doc says I'm clean, nothing … nobody … after that."

"After me?"

"Yes."

Dan moved his head, hair sweeping across skin. "I never had anyone before you." He chuckled softly, lowering his head once more and looking, really looking at that cock before his eyes. Appreciating the sight and inhaling the scent. "Perfectly monogamous." Murmured, before tasting skin, hot-smooth hardness and precum once more. After so long, Dan groaned when the taste hit his palate and the feeling of perfect fit, as much as absolutely knowing Vadim. What would create the greatest lust. Which movements, touches, how his tongue slid, his hand steadied and stroked, his teeth gently scraped, then harder, steady, and it all came back to him, each and every tiny detail. They were inextricably intertwined, how could they ever have believed they could be parted. Even death was not enough.

Vadim moaned, louder than he used to, thoughts wiped out at that feeling he'd remembered, but was even better now. Dan sucking and teasing him, better if that was possible, the same relish, the same devil may care heartfelt intensity that had never failed to blow his mind. He didn't care who else Dan had had, like this or any other way, because Dan wanted him back and was willing to keep him, and fuck everything else, there was a solution, no problem, none at all. Every motion made him groan and hiss, eyes closed, knew the sight would drive him insane, the sounds Dan made and the sensations.

Dan took his time, reacquainting himself, indulging himself with taste, touch and sound. Cocksucker, that's what he was and what he wanted to be, but no one other than Vadim could get to all his senses to deeply and completely.

Vadim was panting by now, thrusting up, a sheen of sweat on his body, which just reacted, just moved with no interference from his brain whatsoever. Reaching blindly for Dan's shoulders, just touching him there with his fingertips, groaning and allowing the sensations to wash through him. He'd do anything. Confess anything, commit any crime.

Dan finally raised his head, lips and tongue moving up the length of Vadim's cock, his good hand closing around the shaft, strength pitted against lust. "I want to fuck you, Vadim." His voice was rough with need, "is that OK?" Didn't know why he felt he had to ask, never had before.

Vadim opened his eyes, looked at Dan, his wet lips close to his cock, still, that strangely serious expression in his eyes, asking something, and Vadim felt so motherfucking grateful it sent shivers up his spine. "Please, do."

Begging for it, are you, Krasnorada? Like a good bitch?

Vadim shuddered, came up, took Dan's shoulders and pulled him closer. "Do it. Don't ... make me beg."

"Beg?" Confusion, but then Dan forgot all about the thought, when cock touched cock, and everything was different all of a sudden. Not just a body, no mate nor friend, no casual encounter, nothing and no one like this. This familiarity, this knowing. This owning.

Bodies touching, Dan's knees between Vadim's legs. "Shit," he murmured, "where is the lube?"

Vadim gave a breathless laugh, Dan across him like this, the sight of his cock, heavy and hard and veined, and he found it impossible to speak. He glanced around, didn't see the lube, not right away. "Try … nightstand", he whispered, couldn't resist and came up to nip Dan's throat, grinning.

Dan nodded, but the nightstand was to his left and his hand was still in plaster. "Damn." Rolled over and off Vadim with a grunt when he hit the fading bruises, until he could rummage in the drawer with his right. Finding the tube of KY, kept it between his teeth. He needed his hand to touch Vadim, run fingers down a shoulder and back to the flank, the lube landing beside his head. "I want to fuck you like I did in that cave… Been dreaming about that. Remembering. Everything, every goddamned little thing."

Vadim nodded, rolled onto his side in front of Dan, craned his neck to kiss him, hand touching Dan's leg, firm grip as if testing the muscle underneath. Suddenly had the strange feeling Dan didn't do this to any of his other lovers - not this spooning, not fucking them slowly on their sides. Couldn't imagine either Jean or Donahue like this, but of course he might be wrong. "So have I … everything. You were … are worth that … that fucking, stupid war …"

You are worth everything, Dan thought, but couldn't say it. Felt his throat suddenly constricted. Worth that ex-wife of yours, worth a smashed room, worth suicide missions, worth hatred and hell and worth all the money and more. Said none of it, instead moved even closer, handed the tube to Vadim, his own palm open. "Help me?"

Vadim nodded, flicked the cap open and squeezed a good amount of that stuff into Dan's palm, then put the lube down near the pillow, and lifted his leg, which exposed the scar there. He swallowed, curved his back to give Dan a better angle, just falling back into it, wanting Dan and what he'd do. "Good … good I found you in the desert", he murmured to cover the moment of nervousness. Been a while. Fuck.

"Aye .. . damn good thing." Dan rubbed the cool gel all over his cock, before swiftly but thoroughly working it between Vadim's cheeks, stalling a moment to relish the sensation of his finger sliding unhindered through the readily yielding muscle, making Vadim push back against his hand.

"There was a time …" Dan murmured close to Vadim's ear while his good hand worked him open. Insistent, gently, yet unrelenting, and Vadim's breath went harder, lips open, trying to speed things up and be ready.

"A time when I couldn't … even … wank …" Drawing in a deep breath, Dan found it hard to hold himself back like this. "Too painful, then … but not now …." One finger was met by a second, the third almost there as well.

Vadim nodded, sex had become impossible, some point he didn't even feel any arousal, or anything but dread, and the wanking in camp had been nothing but some kind of waste disposal, a vaguely embarrassing function of his body, nothing more. "Not … a virgin. Just … do it, like you … ah, did." He glanced over his shoulder, leaned back to rub his head against Dan's for a moment. "Come on."

Dan shook his head, though, and smiled. Tender, despite his flushed face and almost feverishly gleaming eyes. "It's been so long." Murmured, while his fingers pulled out, before pushing back, three this time, making Vadim groan and buck back, unable to control the building lust that washed away what disgust he'd felt at the thought. Disgrace, shame, filth. None of that, now. Not now, not right now.

"No one else, like this. No one else …" Dan did not finish the sentence, kissing the back of Vadim's neck instead.

He'd been right. Not Dona… Matt, not Jean. Vadim shook his head, banished the thought, wanted more of that, deeper, harder, wanted to feel thrusts and Dan's length sliding inside and out and accept him as deep as he could, with as much force as he could. Dan's fingers stretching him and teasing, slicking him up, a slight burn, but no discomfort. Last man touching him had been the doc, and he didn't count. Just clinical. "Same … here. I'm … clean." Healthy. Functional.

"I didn't mean that." Dan's voice barely a murmur, as his lips curved into a smile in the back of Vadim's neck. Fingers at last replaced with the tip of his cock. He didn't know where in heaven and hell he took this restraint from, just that it was of utmost importance he didn't rush anything. Had to draw out, relish and engrave in his mind forever each and every endless second. "I meant … not like this." And he pushed forward, stretching, demanding, moving until he felt yielding and acceptance - agonisingly slow.

Vadim's lips opened wider, a choked sound came out, feeling this, so damned good, just so good, his body responding on its own with his mind still outside like a guest that was not allowed in. Lost the thread of conversation, just felt the slick heat and the stretching and Dan moving inside him, hand reaching behind him, trying to pull Dan closer and deeper, but most of all touch and feel him. Dan. Dan like in the cave, Dan like in those days when there had been nothing to fear and nothing to regret. Dan was everything that mattered. Struggled hard to think, but couldn't, just felt the warmth and the skin and Dan's strength and control. "I'll … beg … before … this … is over", he murmured, "but … I don't care …"

"You'll never need to beg with me. Never." Dan found it hard to talk, consumed by the sensations. All feeling concentrated in his cock, flaring from the centre throughout his body and mind. Synapses firing lust across his brain until he was hardly able to think at all. Nothing but Vadim's body, Vadim's heat, Vadim's scent. Eleven years reduced to a blur of memories and emotions. Nothing else mattered but the here and now. "Whatever you want …" words tumbling, while his body took over. The good hand roaming across muscles and skin, until they found Vadim's cock, curling around it. Could feel every vein beneath his calloused palm. "Whatever … wherever ... I'd do it for you … no begging … ever …" His body was rocking into the other's. Smoothly and steadily, their bodies combined, and his stroking in sync with the same perfection.

No begging. He didn't need to beg. No humiliation, no submission, no shame, no disgrace, not even when Vadim could think clearly again, not in his memory, not when they'd both be mercenaries again. Vadim closed his eyes, one hand rested on Dan's wrist, moved with it as Dan brought him further, stroked him, no begging, just equals as they'd always been, sometimes at each other's mercy, but never less than themselves. "I … know", Vadim breathed, flexing again as the lust built up further, but he took over Dan's rhythm, trusting him so completely that he wouldn't beg, knowing Dan didn't want that and would just listen to it anyway. Knowing he didn't truly beg, not on his knees, not for his life, not for his pride, but whatever he'd say would only truly be 'I love you more than I can say, than I can even think and what you give me takes my breath away, but breathing is overrated when I can kiss you', and he suddenly smiled, while he could hear his own groans, sensuous, and, he thought, damned sexy, as they had to be. Dan sexy as he was, doing sexy things, himself, in prime shape, and they were a feast for the gods, and no shame whatsoever. "I love you", Vadim muttered, barely coherent.

Dan was smiling, at nothing and no one and both of them. At words and feelings, and the sheer utter perfection of everything. Shifting his body, the angle of his hips changed, and his entrance became deeper while the speed increased slightly. Still as intense, and just as perfect. "Never stopped …" loving you, wanting you, even when I was about to kill you and hated your guts, your very sight. Picking up speed and strength once more, his thrusts still as smooth and controlled, but deeper and harder. "And always will." Breathlessly murmured, Dan's eyes closed, starting to fuck in earnest, with all his strength, yet the strength remained controlled by their position and by everything he felt. No wild, insane coupling of greed like the night before, but years worth of emotions expressed in lust, moving further towards orgasm.

Vadim wanted nothing more than change position, himself pressed into the mattress, or on his hands and knees, this slow, drawn-out love making wrecking him from the inside and outside, stripping everything away. His pretences, the bitterness, the darkness, and for a while even the interrogator's voice. Just emotion and feeling, and he glanced over his shoulder, too close to see anything, but felt Dan's hot breath against his ear and neck, and every thrust that went right through him, up to his chest and his throat while tension built up. At least that was something that still worked, and something he remembered and that had been nothing but good, and Dan finally there where he wanted him, where he remembered him, and where he fucking needed him. Relief so powerful it hurt as his body tensed, close to orgasm, but never able to get there on its own, always needed Dan's help to get him there, his groans sounding desperate now.

Close, so damn close, Dan could feel nothing but the pressure building, almost unbearable in his cock and balls. He shifted once more, angle steeper, and he sped up, increasing strength. His hand remained in the same rhythm, same sync with is body's thrusts. "Aye …" whispered, without thinking nor seeing, "I'll take care of you." His hand gripping tighter, harsher, his strokes as demanding as his thrust, now.

Care. Overwhelming gratitude as Dan took him over the edge, and Vadim's fingers dug into Dan's hip as he felt himself fall, pressing back, tensing as he just let go, coming with breathless groans, into and against Dan's hand, against his body. Absurdly surprised at the depth of emotion, the intensity, the clarity as if the darkness didn't exist, as if everything was still clear and simple, and for a long moment it was, just him and Dan.

Dan followed almost immediately, his whole being had just waited for that moment when he could finally let go. Felt his cock clench, deeply embedded in the powerful body that was all his, and his alone. That very moment, there was no past - no future, just present. He felt himself drained of more than just total ecstasy, his entire being crushed and elevated at the same time. Felt emptied of every memory and emotion, like an infected wound: drained of everything that had turned bad. Finding himself with eyes scrunched shut and his arm wrapped and holding tightly onto Vadim. Emptied so much, there was nothing left but a shell, like it had been before, the day of Vadim's execution. But this time it was not pain that filled the empty shell, but feelings, flooding back, bringing knowledge and realisation. Here, and now, and his once more. Vadim. Forever and always. Vadim. His.

And Dan cried, helplessly, while his good hand clawed at the other's body, his body pressed so close, as if he was trying to crawl inside.

Feeling Dan shudder and the tension that didn't leave him, Vadim glanced over his shoulder, feeling and hearing the odd pattern of breathing, and what seemed like despair to him, the sounds wretched. Suddenly realized just how much he'd fucked up Dan, and felt a wave of tenderness come up that took his breath. Moving, separating only to turn around and grab hold of the man, feeling him tight and close and helplessly crying. Small sounds for such a powerful man, and Vadim swallowed hard, pressing the other man to him, knowing nothing really could stop that and all he could and wanted to do was hold Dan through this, help him deal with the pain. Fingers running over his skin, feeling tears himself, an echo and a shadow of Dan's. Feeling so fucking sorry for having got Dan this far and breaking him up so badly. "Shit, I'm sorry. I'm so very … very sorry", he murmured into Dan's ear.

Dan shook his head, repeatedly, trying to say 'no, not your damn fault', but he couldn't get a sound out, let alone a coherent word. Couldn't stop those motherfucking tears either, completely helpless and resigned to whatever they were doing to him. 'They': tears, emotions, and two and a half years of shit, but he had no idea why he just couldn't stop. Just couldn't. No chance, and when he finally gave in, the tension flew out as his body capitulated to tears and old, so very old pain. Sobbing like a broken child, while memories were fading. Death, fear, blackmail, hopelessness and hope. They became nothing but past.

Vadim's tears were silent, just running from his eyes into Dan's wild hair. Hardly painful, they came, and went, bringing an odd sense of relief and cleansing, but most of all regret as he held Dan, stroking his back and shoulders, thought they'd rushed it, should have been more careful, and at the same time felt like things could be good again. Not just sex, not just friends, but something similar to what they had been, plus comrades. Finally on the same side, their own side, with nothing else to fall back onto.

It took a long time before Dan calmed, and he never realised he had fallen asleep in the other's arms. Utterly exhausted. Vadim rolled onto his back, shifted Dan to lie on his shoulder, could still feel him inside and listened to the rustle of palm leaves, eyes half closed. It could be good again. All they had to do was stick together, whatever came - Jean, Yank, whatever. They were far away, and they weren't important, not when Dan had cried like that, and Vadim felt embarrassed and proud and full of regret - too many shifting emotions to examine that feeling.

You will see that some people might react strange to things you do or say, Mr Krasnorada. Guilt will only deepen that gap. They are entitled to their responses, some of which might seem strange to you. It won't be your fault. Don't take them personally - trauma quite significantly shifts our perception of self.

Dr Williams.

"I'll try", he murmured, looked to the side at Dan's eyebrows, smooth forehead, looking relaxed and peaceful, and looked down to Dan's scarred hand, partially in plaster. It would be good. It would be a battle fighting it out, but they'd win this. They'd leave the past behind and use what they'd left. All of it.

* * * * * * *

When Dan woke about an hour later he stretched his muscles and moved his arms and legs long before his mind was engaging. Pure luxury of not having to be awake from one second to the next. Even though he was still half asleep, his mind knew that no danger was near, and his body revelled in slowly returning to the surface. He felt warmth - human warmth. Skin, and arms, a body that was hard and smooth and simply perfect. Held, resting, and lips close to skin, as he breathed in the other's scent. Dan's lips curved into a smile while his eyes were still closed. Moving his head a fraction, his wild hair brushed across Vadim's chest. "Mmmm …" Dan almost purred, completely at peace and more relaxed than he could remember. Except for his eyes, they felt somewhat swollen, but it was of no importance. What had been, had been, and he felt no shame for the display of emotions. He had merely functioned, and functioned well, until now, and from now on he could live again.

"Any chance for breakfast? Am famished."

Vadim twisted a bit, rolling onto his side to kiss Dan's forehead - that was the only bit of his face that he could reach without moving too much. "The food is still there", he murmured and smiled, running a lazy hand through Dan's hair. Soft. The length made that hair too soft to keep his hands away. "I might dredge up enough strength to … get up and feed you", he murmured. "Depends on the incentive."

Laughing, Dan rolled over onto his back, able to twist his head up,peering at the other. "And that would be? Let me think … sex?"

Vadim grinned. "Not just yet, but … yes." Predictably starved after steaming alone in his tin hut. Remembered Dan's skills too well, going savage or skilled or teasing, slow, harsh, enthusiastic.

Dan rubbed his eyes, still swollen. "The coffee's cold, though, aye?" Adding, while pulling himself upwards to half-sit. "I have no idea when I conked out nor for how long." It didn't matter, and he shrugged while searching one-handed for his packet of fags.

Vadim reached and found Dan's shorts, pulling them closer so Dan could get to them. "We have time. I think … a bit more than an hour." He rubbed his face and yawned, stretching. "Plenty of time, though. My next treatment is at twelve, that gives me time for breakfast."

"Treatment?" Finding his fags, Dan fished one out and lit it, all one handed before picking the shorts up with his toes and with a deft flick catching his foot in it. He grinned while inhaling the nicotine deeply. "What's that for?" Smoke curling out of his nostrils and mouth.

"Yes. Massage, exfoliation, and epilation …" Vadim smiled. "Mostly treating the scars, though, and the girl yesterday said that some parts of my spine are locked and that I should go for the full treatment and bring time." He shrugged. "Guess they know their thing better than I do."

"Scars? Sounds good, you think I should do the same?" Dan looked up while the shorts kept slowly sliding down his lifted leg.

"Absolutely. If nothing else, it feels really good."

"OK, book me in for the whole hog as well. Oh, and are we ordering more tea and coffee?"

"Just a moment. " Vadim nodded, rolled over again to reach for the phone, ordering another set of tea and coffee to their bungalow. Turning back towards Dan. "Should be here in five. I better get dressed - at least shorts."

"Damn right, that's what they were for." Grinning, Dan kept the burning cigarette between his lips while reaching for the shorts. Struggling one handed, he ended up laughing, while lying on his back like a stranded beetle, the twisted shorts somewhere halfway down his legs.

Vadim grinned and bent down to take hold of the shorts and pull them up. "Lift yer arse, soldier boy", he mimicked one of the PT instructors, and pulled them up for Dan. Even zipped him up and closed the button, leaning down to kiss the mess of scars peeking out over the cloth. "Can't wait to peel you out of those again", he said lowly and flashed another grin, getting one in return. Then found his own shorts and slipped them on as well, managing to be partially dressed at least and not entangled with Dan when the Thai waiter appeared and served the tea and coffee pots. The young man didn't move a muscle in his pretty face, even though the situation was absurdly clear, and Vadim marvelled at the way everything seemed normal here.

"Well," Dan remarked when the guy was gone, "they are rather stoic, aye?" Remembering the 'ladyboy' bar, and the fact he'd been told there was nothing one couldn't get for money in this country. Even things that made his stomach turn. "Stoic, or polite, or plain and simply incredibly tolerant."

Vadim shrugged. "I like them for that. Seems to create less trouble."

Dan reached for his clothed crotch, scratching vigorously, before he swung his long legs over the edge of the bed. "You do realise we haven't even showered yet, aye? Feel a bit of a sticky mess and bet you're not any better, but food first …" a thought suddenly occurred to him as he stood. His eyes lighting up. "A bath! We've never had a bath together and I've got addicted to bubble baths. Back in the embassy."

Vadim gave a laugh. "Sounds good. Jacuzzi? There was the hamam in Kabul, but that was different." He watched as Dan padded over to the trolley that held the breakfast and now the fresh tea and coffee, pulling it towards the bed.

"Breakfast in bed, Monsieur?" Moving into an exaggeratedly deep bow, Dan lifted the first of the covers off the food. "Would you like me to feed you, Monsieur?" He grinned before letting himself fall back onto the bed.

Vadim smiled and reached out to touch Dan's side again, feeling mellow and tender and like he couldn't touch and hold him enough. "Yes, why not? If you want to?"

"Only if you do the pouring of tea and coffee. I don't trust my hand right now, too much sex, you know." Dan waggled his brows, grinning.

Vadim smiled. "Then let that hand recover some." He leaned in to kiss, a short, gentle touch, then began to sort the cups and prepare tea and coffee. Black coffee with sugar for Dan, more sugar than seemed right, while he stuck to black coffee. Too many tea jokes, too much history. He offered Dan the cup, and sat down on the bed, pulling one leg up.

Sipping the hot coffee, Dan let the over-sweetened concoction roll slowly over his tongue, savouring every mouthful. "Since when do you prefer coffee?" Pointing at Vadim's cup before putting his own down, picking out bits of different breads, toppings and fruit to place on a plate.

Vadim glanced up. "Too Russian; I'm trying to break the habit." Carefully dropping the definite article into the sentence. Just keeping away from anything that reminded him of the state that had fucked him up, and its people, that had allowed it to happen.

"Hm?" Dan looked up from what he was doing, studying Vadim for a moment. He had to learn to decipher the other anew. Signs and signifiers, unknown and waiting for him to make sense of. "You could drink your tea with milk," smiling, "that's a very British way to take tea. Or you could have Earl Grey. You can't get anymore English than that." Moving the plate onto the bed and scooting closer to Vadim.

Vadim shook his head. "Not sure I'm ready for that habit." British passport, and as British as blinis, and vodka, and Siberia. Not very. The only place where he fit in was gone, and the place that saw some worth in him was so very alien to him, and he shared that sentiment. "Coffee is fine. Smells much better than it tastes, but the smell is very good."

"Well, in that case, I let you test out if the food smells better than it tastes. And, of course, if you can figure out what it is." Dan grinned, gently poking Vadim's chest with a finger. "Close your eyes and open your mouth."

Vadim smiled. "Don't make me guess." Felt oddly embarrassed about it, and relished the weird tenderness - a strange and new situation. He opened his lips to invite the bite of food.

Dan chose some lightly toasted white bread with butter, a smidgen of cream cheese and freshly smoked fish on top, holding it to Vadim's lips. "It's pretty straightforward." He grinned, couldn't help but laugh. "Nothing 'straight' here, eh?" Murmured, while preparing a bite for himself.

"Hmmmm … no. Try as I might, I can't come up with anything straight, not after …" you fucked me like that. He let the words trail off, thought Dan probably could hear the complete sentence. The bite was moved between his lips, as if to tease, bread and faintly salty slick fish, something like cream came out at the sides as he closed his mouth.

"And? Don't tell me you don't know what that is."

"A second."

Dan was chewing, too, while watching the other's face. Every movement of those jaws, the dark blond lashes fanning over high, Slavic cheekbones. The closed eyelids, fluttering, as if Vadim was forcing himself to keep them closed. Watching the throat as it swallowed, the strong tendons and muscles, and the scar … his scar, right there in the hollow. All Dan wanted was to forget about the food despite his stomach's rumbling, and to dive into Vadim instead. "You're so fucking sexy." Reverent, his voice was barely more than a rumble.

Vadim's eyes opened, licking his lips to make sure he had the whole thing. "Well, tastes a bit like you. A bit salty, and like more. A lot like more." He ran his finger across Dan's lips, pretending he was wiping crumbs off, but of course he wasn't, merely wanting to touch, so he knew that he was allowed to touch again, that it was his right again, that he had been accepted again and would be, in future. In camp. He wouldn't lie there with his heart and mind torn open, knowing Dan was with somebody else … or even preferred being alone to being with him.

"There's a lot more where that came from." Dan smiled against the finger on his lips. "Both food and me." Catching the tip of the finger to suck it into his mouth. His dark eye alight and smiling all the time.

Vadim stared at Dan's lips and his finger, and suction, heat and wetness made his guts tighten in a good way. Just barely breathing. Dan playful. Dan sexy. Dan teasing. Mad Dog Dan. "I … we … breakfast?" Knew he made no sense, but didn't care.

"Aye …" Dan reluctantly let go of the finger. His voice husky, it seemed that anything took his mind from no-matter-what right to sex. Or had it ever been any different? With Vadim? "Considering I'm forty-two and not a spring chicken with endless orgasms anymore …," he swallowed, his body trying to contradict his own words, "and fucking hungry … I guess ... breakfast …." But he made no attempt to actually get to the food, despite the loud rumbling of his stomach.

Vadim gave a laugh. "Chicken no, cock yes." Loved the ambiguity of the word, while Dan chuckled at the pun and Vadim wondered who had ever decided to call the male part the same as a male chicken, but would ask about that later. He reached up to bring a tray of food closer, not too bothered to place it on the plates first, instead took it with his fingers and offered Dan some rolled-up cold cuts, and pieces of fish, and fruit, all in a mix that he thought worked well in succession while he got fed by Dan in return. "You're different from Kabul, too, you know that?"

"Hm?" Chewing, Dan tilted his head, looking up in surprise. "What do you mean? I thought I was back to what I was like those months before ... ah …." Trailing off, "you know." Deciding to quickly go for another mouthful of food instead of talking. The balance act on rope or thin ice was not over yet.

"Hard to put into words … seems you've grown into the boots you were wearing then. No doubts. You're not much of a doubter anyway, but now you look like you never were. All balls."

Swallowing his latest mouthful, Dan looked nothing short of utterly confused. "I don't get what you mean." Then shrugged, "I just got older." Offering a smile.

"We both did." But it looks good on you. You wear it with a cool and confidence that makes my heart thump in my throat. How can I not want you like that? How could I not feel anything?

Dan just smiled brighter, offering another mouthful of food to Vadim's lips. "I reckon we have a fair few more years in front of us and that after all this shit we deserve each of them." Leaning down to take some more fish and fruit from the other's hand, "unless one of us, or both, get KIA, we'll just keep on living. Together. But I don't think we will. Got it in me waters, you know." Tapping the side of his nose.

Vadim took the bite, chewing, and pushing away the thought of death. Working on different teams was really the only thing they could do to keep the job running, because he knew with absolute certainty that Dan would always choose him, no question, and the CO knew that too, and thus kept them both from making that decision, ever. And this meant it would be one of them that got KIA, and the other would go on. They'd managed once before - if it ever happened, it couldn't be worse than the last two years. "We are too good to let that happen. And, all told, we are fairly lucky, too."

"Aye, damn lucky in a sea of shit." Dan laughed, washing the food down with the rest of his coffee, before he turned more serious. "No, you are right, we have been damn lucky, all considered. It's a miracle we are both alive and that's worth for something, isn't it?" Picking up a piece of honey smoked fish, he looked at it for a while, pondering, before he grinned. "By all what's right I really shouldn't be alive anymore. Just look at this ragtag bag of scars." Stuffing the fish between his lips, he lifted both his arms as if he crucified, offering himself for inspection.

"Yes, you attract pain", murmured Vadim and bent down to kiss Dan's abs, back up to his pecs, to his shoulder, the scar. "Pain, and more pain …" He wanted to kneel and give Dan a blowjob, just compare tastes and sensations.

"No … you're not pain." Not anymore, "and it seems …" Dan's breath hitched, "that you're pretty much attracted to me."

"Can't … think anything else, sorry." Vadim looked up and smiled. "Do you … want me to …"

You were nothing but his bitch, and you made yourself that willingly.

"… give head?" Seemed the best term to what it was, less crude, maybe. Vadim didn't know why it jarred him, only of course it was on his knees and part of him wanted to be there, and another part shied away.

"Hm?" Again, that confusion, as Dan felt a strange twitch inside. "Why do you ask?" Since when, and how, and why, and … the thin ice felt like breaking underneath.

"Don't want to distract you from breakfast, but it's …difficult." Difficult to not end up in bed all the time, pretending things were normal and they'd do things slower, not rushing, but Vadim was head over heels and wanted to touch and keep and confirm, over and over, that the old vows and promises were valid again. Still held true.

"Oh …" Dan started to smile, felt himself slipping across the ice instead of breaking through. "I just wondered, because you asked, and you didn't use to."

No, I sometimes did when the mood struck me, or when there was a knife, or pressure, or hands around my throat. Vadim watched Dan lean towards the plates, hastily stuffing himself with a few mouthfuls, chewing while grinning.

"You can do with me whatever you like." Swallowing quickly before managing to pour himself another cup of coffee without spilling too much and ladling the sugar in, as Vadim went down onto his knees between Dan's legs. "Don't ask, just do, and if I don't like it," Dan grinned, then washed down the food with the whole cup, quipping his lips, "I'll just punch you." He laughed and winked, "gently, that is."

"I wonder how much is gentle …" retorted Vadim, and then thought he did wonder how much was gentle these days. They'd gone from brutal to savage to passionate, and he wasn't quite sure where they'd end up. "… or how gentle I want you to be." Slipped out, not on purpose, surely not, not with the trauma and the doctor telling him to be extra special careful in his interactions with people, even those he knew, as he could take nothing for granted.

"Don't give me ideas." Dan grinned, reaching to place his hand on Vadim's shoulder. Just resting and feeling the heat of the skin beneath his palm. "Or, at least, give me some time to reacquaint myself with you, the 'vanilla' way. Then we'll see from there." He chuckled while leaning forward, resting his lips on the top of the other's head.

"Vanilla?" Vadim's hands rested on Dan's thighs, and he opened them. Running his hands towards Dan's knees, knew the scar and its place, remembered it from long ago. A different man, a different Dan.

"It's something I heard the guys talk about." Dan lifted his head, watching the progress of the other's hands. Whenever he was touched like this, no matter by whom, he wondered every time what the hell anyone saw in him: a worn-out battle-scarred old war horse with no other talents than waging war. "They were boasting about their birds, back home, and how some of them took it up the arse and wanted it rough, while others were into cuddling and missionary-style sex, and the guys called that vanilla."

Cuddling and missionary style. Vanilla. Okay. Strange. Vadim suddenly smiled. "But I take it up the arse. So vanilla between men is different?"

Dan snorted, throwing his head back, hair whipping around his face as he laughed with abandon. "Guess us blokes haven't got much option, aye?" Vadim shook his head, but he was grinning. Dan's laughter finally quietened down to a chuckle. "Now, what about a bath and, or, your proposition?"

"A bath is always good ..." And you. The way your skin tastes when it's wet. "And, not or."

"That's alright, then, because I guess we both could do with a bath, even though I'd lick every crevice of yours, would bite every inch of skin, and suck every part of your body - washed or not."

Vadim shook his head. "Bath. I prefer you clean. Had too much Afghan dust between my teeth to be into not-clean."

Dan nodded, holding his hand out to Vadim to pull him up, despite the prospect of a blow-job. "Let's get the bubbles started, and I'll let you play 'u-boat and torpedo missiles'." Grinning like a kid, his dark eyes flashing with delight and his whole face relaxed. They had time, for the first time ever. Truly time. They'd deal with the past later.

* * * * * * *

In the bathroom, which was as big and as airy as the whole bungalow, Dan sat down on a cushioned stool, eyes fixed on Vadim. "Guess it's your task to run the bath water." He grinned broadly, while waving his plastered hand around. "Big bubbles, if you would."

Vadim sat down near the tub and stretched to reach the levers, sealing the tub with a twist of that, and starting the water with a twist of the other. Running the water over his hand, choosing a good temperature, then reached into a little woven basket at the side to add bath oil - it said something about Tahitian monoi oil on the little bottle - and turned to face Dan. Looking at him in wonder, and a relaxed happiness that felt alien but too damn good to disturb.

"What, why are you staring at me?" Eyes sparkling with mirth, Dan pointed impatiently at the bottle Vadim was holding. "You think bubble baths aren't manly?"

Vadim pulled off the cap, and peeled off the foil seal. "You could wear a dress and like chocolate and you'd still be manly." He glanced up, keeping his face impassive.

"I do like chocolate, as you damn well know, Mr Peanut Butter Energy bar, and I am Scottish, and thus prone to one day proudly wear my national attire: the kilt." Dan tried to look stern and menacing, but could not hide the grin all too well. "And if you ever call a kilt a 'skirt' or a 'dress', I am going to fucking strangle you."

Vadim poured the oil into the bath, watching it form a glistening film on the rapidly rising water. A nice, clean scent rose with the steam. "If you do it tenderly …" A quick glance to Dan.

"Hmm … that means not the way you used to do it to me, aye?" The memory brought heat to his face, and Dan's lips parted for a moment, transfixed on the way muscles shifted over tendons and bones in Vadim's body. His breath hitched. "But is there … any other way to strangle?"

Shit. The teasing - flirting, Vadim heard Jean say - went right inside his body again. Vanilla. He had the vague idea that strangling wasn't vanilla. He took pains to put the cap back on, fitting the little bottle back into the woven basket. "Well, dropping the garrotte and using … hands would be ah ... a start."

"Does a neck cloth count as a garrotte, though?" Dan's head tilted, leaning closer. "You used to use one."

"I … did." Breathing grew a little harder. "I liked", breath, "that power." The power to let you breathe or gasp for air. The power to kill you. Or let you live. The feeling of controlling your body. And at the same time, that cloth was part of the uniform, had been used to stem blood flow, or support a fucked arm around the neck, or any of the one hundred uses that a piece of cloth could have during a war. Strangle his lover.

Dan's breath caught once more in his throat. "And I … goddammit, I liked it." Felt as if his voice had suddenly turned rusty for no reason. "Was the only way I could let you. You know." Didn't know why words got stuck, nor where hesitation came from. Had to physically jerk himself upright, to finish. "Only way I could let you fuck me." Past, or still present? He wasn't so sure anymore.

The only way I could let you fuck me. Vadim nodded, inhaling deeply, felt regret at that, the thing he'd done that made Dan resist him at every turn, certainly his body, a deep terror he had started himself, and that would always linger like a nightmare, like the taste of rotting meat. Vanya had paid with his life, and he, too, in a way, if less literally. He stared into the water, and thought again of Dr Williams who'd warned him to be careful, question every reaction that was too dark, too violent, too bitter. Might all be perfectly harmless. Still, it remained rape, a crime, and what the fuck had made him do that? What was that thing nesting inside his heart and that made him force and violate and fucking revel in it?

My best guess is, Vadim Petrovich, that you are punishing yourself for your debased urges.

Konstantinov.

"Vadim?" Dan leaned forward once more, reaching out to touch the other's thigh, whose reaction once more felt alien. "It's okay, Russkie. It's a long time ago, doesn't matter anymore." When Vadim looked up, Dan smiled, did his best to, at least. Steered his own thoughts away from lust; the deep, dark coiling lust that was fed by blood, pain and aggression. "It's okay."

Russkie. All wrong, for a moment, and then Vadim felt the touch and thought of the roof in the merc camp and what that touch meant. Covered Dan's hand with his and pressed it, glad for the touch. "Do you … ever feel like punishing me for that?" Because if Dan didn't, why should he? Or what else had he done that deserved punishment? Or had Konstantinov created that doubt?

"Don't you think I have already done that? Eleven years ago." Dan kept his hand in Vadim's and stood up. Reaching to trace with the fingers of his left hand across the scarred back. He lowered his head until he was eye to eye. "You bear the scars of my revenge." His voice had softened, "and I wear mine. We're quits. It's done and over, a long time ago."

Vadim leaned forward, cheek against Dan's scarred stomach, just touching it with half his lips, half his mouth, while Dan continued to caress the broad back. The warmth of Dan's body, the trail of dark hair - what was left after the scarring. "I sometimes don't trust my mind." That was it in a nutshell. "I'm thinking, and then I'm thinking that's wrong. And then I think that's wrong." Vadim inhaled. "He screwed me up", he murmured.

Dan froze for a heartbeat, before the slow meandering of his fingertips continued. "Who is 'he'?"

The other man who tortured me, thought Vadim, and dug his forehead deeper into Dan's body. He remembered kneeling at the man's feet, remembered being patted like a dog. He jerked up, needed to see, see it was Dan, and hated himself for that same instinct. "Not … a lover." He tried a smile but nearly lost it, his face twitching. "The man who … made me sign the confession. He screwed me up. Like he said he would. He said so from the start." He wanted to stop the words and wasn't sure he could.

"KGB?" Dan moistened his suddenly dry lips. The running water forgotten, the bathroom was filling with steam. The heat oddly soothing. Dan lowered down, despite stiffness and lingering bruises. Getting onto his knees to be close. Figured, instinctively, that nothing else would do.

With an effort, Vadim met Dan's gaze, felt tense and scared and knew at the same time he was perfectly safe. Knew he was going through something, but this time, Dan was right there with him. He just didn't know whether that made it easier or not, dealing with it. The dread, yes, the shame, no.

"That man, who made you sign the confession. Who …" broke you, "said he would. That was that man's job, aye?"

"Yes. Konstantinov. That's his name. What the judge called him." Speaking the name felt surreal. He hadn't even told Dr Williams the man's name.

"He was a professional, then." Dan's voice lowered even more. The rare, rumbling depths, reserved only for a few occasions. "A professional, like us, just that he wasn't trained to destroy bodies. Was trained to destroy minds." Tilting his head to look at Vadim.

"I know, but …" My brain knows, but nothing else does.

"Shit, Vadim, if such a man was out to destroy you, goddammit, he had to succeed. With anyone. It's a testament to your strength that you signed so late." The hand in Vadim's back had stilled, but contact remained. "But that doesn't make any of it any better, aye?"

"No. He knew me. He knew what I was thinking, feeling, have … ever felt. Digging around in my past, my crimes, my weaknesses, the people I was ever close to."

"But did he also dig around in the good things? The love, the caring, the fact you would have torn yourself apart for your family - and that you almost did?"

Vadim gave a wry smile. "He was less interested in that … he made it all sound like it didn't matter." Insinuated I'd raped my own son. Sasha's son. Our. Whatever. Nikolai. How was he? Better now? Katya would protect her kids with her life. "Sometimes it just feels like he peeled the flesh from my bones. He skinned my soul. And I don't even believe in a soul."

"Nor did I." Dan murmured, "until I met you." Studying the other with dark eyes, "don't you want to seek help to sort things out?"

Vadim shook his head. "Dr Williams put me back together. He said it might decrease in intensity, but most only learn how to live with it. He said I'm coping well, all told."

Dan nodded slowly. Had to take Vadim's words for what they were, but a slither of doubt lodged itself even firmer in his mind. "I wish I could understand all this. I did read those articles on trauma that Maggie gave me, but I don't think I understood the stuff. I'm … I'm not a brainy man, but shit, I'm here. Whatever happens. I gave you my word by accepting the bullet, and I'm not going to break it. Ever."

Vadim pulled Dan into a tight, powerful bear hug, hearing the water gargle into the sieve that prevented spill-over. "You wouldn't. Just … don't pity me, okay?" He felt ridiculous asking that, and even worse for how it sounded in his throat. "Act like I was alright."

"I should punch you for asking that." Dan murmured, "or did I ever ask you not to fucking pity me for that rag tag body of mine?" Casting a glance at the dangerously high water level, he couldn't get himself to give a damn. "Mmmm …," his low voice rumbled, "seemed we are making a perfect pair. My body's fucked and your mind's knackered. Together we should be unbeatable."

Vadim breathed laughter, and was so grateful for Dan just taking it in stride, like he'd taken everything in stride. Courageous Dan. Mad Dog Dan. Dan McFadyen, SAS, merc, survivor. He felt oddly proud for having Dan, and proud of Dan, and thought, yes, they could tackle that shit together. Not the worst they'd gone through. He slowly relaxed, willed himself to relax; it was less difficult now. "Let's keep the thought with the strangling, but … not just yet."

"Aye," Dan grinned, his normal self returning: irreverent and easy-going. "I'll keep the thought, beside all the others. I have a whole damn bucketful of thoughts." Glancing once more to the side, he heaved a deep sigh before straightening up. "And if we don't do anything about it, we'll be drowning soon."

Vadim grinned. "I can swim. To Olympic standard. Maybe not to compete, but this small thing will not drown me." He reached over to pull the lever that stopped the water, feeling strangely better, like he'd bandaged a wound. It hurt like fuck and was still bleeding, but there was always something reassuring about being patched up.

* * * * * * *

After a long bath in the overflowing tub, talking about nothing darker than SAS Selection and their respective youths in their home towns. Vadim rubbed Dan dry once more, who was chuckling at the care and relishing the touch. They had just about time for lunch and Dan opted for a snack at the buffet, keen to call Dr Williams, while Vadim booked him into the same beauty treatment. A treatment Dan had no idea about, except that it was about dealing with scars.

When Dan returned, after a phone call that had lasted three quarters of an hour, he was quieter than usual, and somewhat absentminded. Smiling at Vadim, he shrugged when asked how it had gone, needing time to digest the information. He wasn't stupid, not even slow, but by no means an intellectual. Dan's intelligence was practical, coupled with sheer bravado to survive - and an astonishing depth of emotion. And he wasn't going to forget a single thing he'd been told.

* * * * * * *

In shaded huts right at the beach, a tiny woman handled Vadim's body with a mix of skill and effectiveness that awed him, and he relaxed into her stretches, just going with what she did, as every motion and every strange position seemed to loosen him up more, and he lost track of time. There was no muscle in his body that she didn't somehow work with, she even pulled his toes and ears, and Vadim could just feel parts of his body he'd never been conscious before. Felt warm and good and taken care of, no urgency in anything, he learnt to trust her fingers, and elbows, and feet - something he hadn't expected. Maybe because of Dan, maybe because of the sex and the worry that had left him. He could feel the vertebrae shift and slide into position, his 'locked' back relaxed, and he closed his eyes, just allowing her to handle him.

Dan lay right next to Vadim, separated only by a paper thin partition. The combination of gentle breeze, soft rustling of palm leaves, the scent of oil the woman was using, and her skilled hands that carefully worked on his bruised and abused body, had sent him off into such a peaceful state, he had fallen asleep. It was pure bliss, lying prone and snoozing, while she worked on his back and legs. Dan smiled to himself in his slumbering state, as he felt something warm glide over his skin, covering his thighs and arse, and he subconsciously parted his legs a little further, just to feel the luxurious warmth that spread all over him. Face cushioned on his arm, he let out a soft sigh, completely at peace with himself and the world.

Until ... a sudden, almighty pain ripped all the way up from his knee, along the thigh and across his buttock. Dan jerked up, pulling the bruises, and screamed blue murder. "Fuck!"

At that, Vadim reacted without thinking. Age-old reflexes that had been honed by words like "incoming!", or screams, or just a comrade going down with a headshot. He rolled off the table and went for cover before he even realized anything, putting the fear of god into the little Thai girl who jumped back, a shocked expression on her face, hands raised and speaking something, but he didn't know one word of Thai. Half kneeling, half crouching, Vadim peered past the massage table. "Dan?"

"Oh shit, shit, fucking goddamned, bloody shit!" Dan was cursing, curled up on the table. Holding simultaneously his bruised side, his hand, and arm and leg and arse, and just about everything else. His own Thai girl had pressed herself into a corner, looking absolutely terrified, with two long white linen strips in her hands, coated with sticky wax.

"What the fuck was that for? Why the hell is she skinning me alive?"

Vadim glanced around, then saw that his own Thai girl had been preparing the same stuff for him, and he couldn't help but laugh. "Hot wax. It's harmless."

"Hot wax?" Dan managed to sit on the table, peering over the partition to try find Vadim, who had decided that there was no RPG incoming and that it was safe to stand and walk over to Dan, who was staring at his naked body far too blatantly.

"But why is she doing that? It hurts like fuck." Dan frowned, but when he realised that the girl looked petrified, he raised his hands, trying to placate, apologising time and time again while nodding. Trying to explain without being able to talk the language that he was sorry and it wasn't her fault. Even though he still didn't have a clue why the hell she'd done that. "Did you book me into a torture chamber, or what?"

"It's hair removal." Vadim tried to control the laughter, but it was just too funny, Dan sitting there in all his injured pride, flabbergasted that this could and actually did hurt. "You wanted the whole hog. My wax is just being heated."

"But I didn't know what 'the whole hog' meant! I thought it was massage and stuff." Eyes narrowed, Dan pointed accusingly at Vadim. "You did that deliberately, didn't you? You bastard."

Vadim laughed, but raised his hands. "No, Sir, I didn't. I booked the same treatment twice. I didn't think it … would have that effect." Trying again for the straight face approach, but it was funny. Dan's wool clinging to the waxing strips, and the girl still out of reach and not getting what the problem was. "It'll be better once you get used to it. I guess you were just startled."

"There is no way I am going to get used to this." Dan huffed, shaking his head for emphasis. "That's it. Never again. I'm dark skinned and dark haired, and most of all, I'm a bloke. Blokes have hair, especially dark haired ones."

"But she started." Vadim waved for Dan to get up, and walked around him, seeing the patch of reddening, hairless skin the Thai girl had cleared. "Well. It's a bit irregular, but I'm sure the other mercs in camp won't mind the patchy look."

"What the fuck do you mean?" Dan's brows raised as far as they could go, trying to twist backwards to see what Vadim was referring to. Didn't manage, though, his ribs protested.

"There's a patch of hair missing already. If you leave it like that … well. It's not the best look in the world." Vadim reached for a mirror and held it down beside Dan's tortured backside. "See what I mean?"

"Oh … fuck." Dan breathed out in heartfelt misery, as he saw the extent of damage. "I look like a fucking idiot."

"That's about right", said Vadim, but smiled.

Frowning, Dan turned back to Vadim. Would have crossed his arms before his chest, if it hadn't been awkward with the wrist in plaster. "Alright. I got it. I have to get through with it. Just one thing, she's not going to go anywhere close to my cock and I shave my nuts anyway. Pubes are out. Is that clear?" He raised his brows again.

Vadim grinned. "Explain that to her. I'm not giving you the treatment." He shook his head, thinking how Dan could even make such a situation into something it hadn't meant to be. "Hope you don't mind if they get rid of mine, though", he said, winking, and turned to lie down on his side of the partition. It was hard to relax as silent laughter kept coming back. Oh Dan.

Dan was about to huff an answer, but shut up and pressed his lips together instead. Okay, he'd been caught out, well and truly and 'insult to injury' came to his mind. He sighed when the girl was looking at him with wide eyes, and proceeded to explain in simple English what he wanted. She began to smile, as if nothing had happened, and kept nodding, especially when he promised not to scream again. With heav