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September/October
1991, the Persian Gulf
Dan had
been slouched in his seat, deep asleep, ever since they'd
boarded the plane for the short flight across the desert from
Dubai back to the camp near Kuwait. With his wrist needing
another couple of weeks in plaster, duty wasn't upon him yet.
The plane
was small, with two-seater rows, and his head had dropped
onto Vadim's shoulder. Good hand resting on one muscular thigh,
Dan snored softly into Vadim's ear, never waking up beyond
a snuffle, even when the stewardess came to check if they
needed anything. Life had been too good and cosy the last
three weeks, and Mad Dog was as relaxed as a pampered pet.
Vadim
leaned his head against Dan's, glancing up only when the stewardess
passed. He didn't want to guess what she thought, but like
everybody else, she most likely found Dan endearing in this
state. He tried to concentrate on The Economist, but rolled
it up eventually and stuffed it in the pocket in the seat
before him. Still didn't manage to concentrate on printed
words. He looked outside the window, seeing nothing, just
barren desert. The flight was short, at least that, and Vadim
touched Dan's hand when the plane was about to land.
"Whassup?"
Dan's sleep-slurred speech turned the vowels and consonants
into a parody of his usual accent. "Mmmmm
"
Turning his head, he rubbed his face into Vadim's t-shirt,
lips curving into a slow grin while his eyes remained closed.
"Time for sex, yet?" Murmured.
Vadim
ran his fingers over Dan's stubbly cheek. "I wish",
he murmured back. "And unless we're talking the airports
toilet, sex is out for at least another hour or so."
"Damn."
Dan began to stretch, from the lower spine towards his neck,
yawning in the process. "That means we're about to land,
aye?"
"Aye."
Dan cracked
one eye open, looking up at Vadim from his twisted position.
"That also means that the question is now 'your hut or
mine'?"
As in,
living together? Vadim paused, then suddenly smiled. "I
don't know. I'm not very attached to mine. And I get less
visitors than you do."
Dan grinned,
rolling his neck, then sitting up straight to fasten the seatbelt,
or rather, to try fasten it one-handed, until Vadim reached
over and closed it, by accident brushing Dan's groin.
"Those
damn huts are too small for both our stuff. What about that,
we use one for sleeping and
," Dan waggled his
eyebrows and he produced a toothy grin, "and the other
to store our kit? They aren't that far apart and we could
throw both mattresses onto the floor to make it comfortable.
Bloody beds are too narrow." Clearly, he had thought
a lot about this.
Vadim
smiled. "I guess the possibility of couples forming was
not
thought of when they designed them. Sounds good.
We keep the emergency stuff where we are and use mine for
storage."
Dan laughed,
"Aye, couples. That'll be a shock for some of our favourite
'mates'." He glanced out of the window when the plane
went into descend, poking Vadim's ribs with his elbow. "Mitch
is going to have a field day, but that stupid son of a bitch
won't just have me or you to contend with, on our own. It'll
be the two of us, and I can't see the wanker having the guts
to confront us. Not even with his bunch of cronies for support."
Vadim
paused, and the thought of those bastards seemed an odd weight.
But Dan was right, of course. They'd do fine defending themselves.
If they were attacked. It might just be rumour, gossip, and
cutting remarks. "Well. They already established that
I was your bitch."
"And
that's a fucking load of bullshit." Dan's face had turned
in an instant from relaxed grin to angry snarl, but it could
just as easily smooth back into something else. "You're
not, and that's that. Just don't give a shit what the arseholes
say. Or punch them every time they do say something.
Don't know, what's the better approach?"
Vadim
smiled, seemingly still relaxed. "Just expect them to
say it, that's all. We need to be prepared. It will all be
behind our backs, and some likely to our faces. Teaching some
a lesson would be good - just
pre-emptive measures.
Gain the initiative."
"What
you want me to do, walk into the Mess and break Mitch's nose
once we get back?" Dan flashed a feral smirk. "Or
wait before he actually says it?"
"Well,
there's the CO. But I'm sure your friends would swear that
Mitch tried to ambush us and we only handed him his ass in
self-defence."
Dan was
leaning slightly forward, the ground coming closer as the
plane was about to land on the desert airfield. "Sounds
like fun, if you ask me."
Vadim
grinned. "Your idea of fun seems to have expanded somewhat
?"
"Well
" Dan's words were drowned out by the sound of
the plane touching ground, "if you had told me just a
few days ago that I'd ask you to fuck my arse with your fist
and actually enjoyed it, I would have told you you're
fucking sick. So, aye, seems my idea of fun has expanded quite
a lot recently." Grinning, Dan settled back while the
plane slowly rolled towards their parking station.
Vadim
tensed and felt himself harden - Dan being so
unabashed
and outspoken and them being out in the open. Oh fuck. "Yeah",
he murmured, forcing himself to think something else. Just.
Dan's reaction to what he'd done, and Dan demanding to try
that again, and what it did to him, and to Vadim himself.
"True
I used to be the more flexible one, once
upon a time."
Dan's
eyes remained focussed on Vadim for a long while, before a
slow grin spread across is face. "Seems I'm the more
flexible one, and bloody literally so. Who'd have though that
this
" picking up Vadim's wrist, lifting hand and
arm for a brief moment, "fits in something so tight."
He wiggled briefly on his seat, as if to emphasise his words.
Vadim
swallowed. Dan's teasing wasn't helping, and he leaned over
to kiss him, one way to shut him up and also because he needed
to. "You bastard", murmuring against the other's
lips, while Dan was stunned at the public display of affection
- and that in a non-western country to boot.
"Any
chance we
can have some more time before going back
to camp?" Vadim asked.
"And
where would that be?" Dan stayed as close as possible,
"got the safe house, you want to carry the luggage there?"
"Yes.
Why not. Safe houses have a tradition, don't they?" Same
place where he'd abducted Donahue? Probably. Vadim didn't
care, as long as it had a bed and was somewhat more protected
than the tin hut.
Dan cocked
a brow while Vadim opened his seatbelt, ready to leave the
plane. "In that case, follow me, but
I guess you
know the place."
They
grabbed their luggage from the plane, with the taped-up box
of gadgets being taken straight to the camp, and they hailed
a taxi just a little later. To Vadim, it was a blur and a
haze, mainly staying somewhat behind Dan to not give away
what he felt and needed, not in this country, and definitely
not in his profession.
The drive
was short, once again back through twisted streets and small
alleys until they reached the building that looked just like
it had a month ago, before Dan had sent one jarhead and one
Delta to the same place at the same time - not having a clue
what had happened in the meanwhile. He was careful with the
door, stepping inside after a few security measures, but the
place seemed tidy and deserted in the shuttered gloom. Nothing
that gave any hints to who had occupied it last, except for
Dan grinned when his gaze fell onto a different blanket
than the one he'd had left across the bunk and a stack of
water bottles, US make. He turned to Vadim who had followed,
then dropped the luggage and locked the door behind him. "So,"
Dan put his hands behind his back, standing with legs braced
and an impetuous grin, "what do you want?"
Vadim
dropped his bag, saw Dan assume that PT instructor stance,
while hiding the cast from view. It was easy to imagine Dan
was fine again and back to 100%. You know what I want, he
thought, but realized suddenly it was a game. Dan asked in
jest, or part jest. His eyes flicked over to the chair where
he'd had that chat with Donahue, then, quicker, back. Remembered
being tied up and beaten, remembered wrestling Dan to the
ground and having him on top. The memories made things worse,
better. "You. I've always wanted you."
Dan's
grin widened, bouncing once on the balls of his feet, thrusting
out his chest. "The question is, Vadim, how you
want me. Right now."
Right
now. Just
yeah just two years and a few months
ago they would have stumbled to the bed, biting and kissing
and groping and rubbing.
Would
you like to suck me off, if you had the chance? Does that
arouse you?
Vadim
closed his eyes and lowered himself, slowly, onto his knees,
his hands moved back, crossed in the small of his back, right
fist closed, left hand firmly holding the wrist. Knees connected
with the ground, eyes still closed, but fluttering, like something
inside needed to see. Needed to see Dan. Vadim looked up.
"I
want to suck you off."
"Oh
shit." Dan breathed out, his voice hitched, instantly
husky. The grin had vanished, replaced by something larger,
darker, the instant lust like a punch to his guts. "Why
do you want to suck my cock?" He took a step closer,
slipped without thinking into a part of himself that he'd
almost forgotten. "What does it make you feel?"
His good hand on the button of his sand coloured jeans, working
on the zipper.
You're
a masochistic faggot. Degenerate.
Vadim
shook his head. "I need
to remember I want this.
How much I want this." His face twitched. His own, free
will. He could decide to do this. No force. He was offering.
To his lover. "It gives me
power. Over you, over
myself, and
" Over the interrogator. Couldn't
speak it.
Dan swallowed,
heard something in the voice that didn't make immediate sense,
would remember it later. "Damn right." Pushing the
trousers down, he stood naked, his cock clearly interested.
"You take my strength away when you do that. Legs tremble,
knees buckle and my thoughts are mush." Raising his hand
to touch the blond, short hair, Dan's voice dropped to a murmur,
"and that's exactly why I'm a cocksucker. Not many understand
the power, and it's fucking arousing to bring another man
off."
Vadim
looked up, Dan's voice crawled up and down his spine, mostly
down, made him tense, that voice - that tone - got him ready
to be fucked, just got him in the mind for it. "Used
to do it for the power. Just
the power. It's
different now." It's the demons, as the doctor called
it. "They haven't taken that away."
"I
know." Dan's hand moved from the top of the head along
the temple, "I remember." Caressing the cheek, jaw
line, then back to the hair once more. His touch became more
intense, more demanding. "Hope you remember me, too.
From the first ill-fated attempt, when you choked me, to the
last deep-throated greed that almost made me cum."
"I
do. Fuck, I do." Wanked so often to the one at knife
point, imagined so often how you do it. Vadim opened his lips,
gathered saliva in a too dry mouth, and moved forward. Just
his head, hands still crossed on his back, to take the cock,
suck on it to get it fully hard, and once it responded, Vadim
pushed his head down hard, nearly forced it down his throat,
concentrating only on the technique, denying the torturer
any room in this as the heat filled him, the impossibly strength
and the thickness that just took his breath.
Dan gasped
and let his head fall back into his neck for a long moment.
Hips moving forward towards that mouth, while his hand stayed
in contact with the head. Not forcing, not holding, just feeling
every movement. Connected. Images before his closed eyes,
memories, of caves, rooms, and the open. Nothing more potent,
though, than the sight of Vadim, when he opened his eyes.
Vadim
took him deep, several times, to get loosened up and get used
to it again, then pulled back to concentrate on the head,
sucking and rubbing it with his tongue, enjoying the taste,
the touch communicating something to him, something that Dan's
breathing pattern didn't. For once, the interrogator was not
in this room, didn't stand between them, and Vadim felt a
deep and desperate lust well up that he could allow now. His
motions becoming stronger, positively fierce, taking Dan deep
and powerful, fucking his own throat, and what discomfort
there was, what restriction, only made him hungrier for it.
Dan lost
control over his body, staring down at the sight, steadying
himself with his hand that had slipped from Vadim's head to
his shoulder. Moving in sync, not knowing who was setting
the rhythm and who was following it, he felt his lust sharpen,
deepen, settling in his guts and in his balls, making his
knees unsteady and turning his movements desperate. His breath
became as uncoordinated as his whole body, and he groaned,
murmuring nonsensical sounds of encouragement and, strangely
enough, gratitude. Yet all was forgotten when he felt his
balls tighten, drawing up to his body and then suddenly, with
a few harsh movements of his hips, he came with a barely suppressed
sound, gasping Vadim's name, moaning while he shuddered. Dan's
knees almost locked, and he could hardly stand, wanting to
just let go and slide onto the goddamned floor.
Vadim
reached up to steady Dan by his hips, cleaning him up while
swallowing the cum, then slowly releasing Dan to straighten
again, placing an arm around him to pull him closer, and hold
him. Felt utterly and completely at peace now that no amount
of shouts of 'faggot' and derision could touch him. "We
need to report back tonight? Or tomorrow?"
Dan buried
his face in the crook of Vadim's neck, inhaling the familiar
scent of soap, fresh sweat, and that which was purely, deeply
Vadim. "Tonight. Damn."
"Bad
planning."
Dan chuckled
lightly, felt exhausted in the most pleasant way. His whole
body strumming with contentment. Murmuring against skin, "what
do you want me to do for you in return?" Tongue 'accidentally'
snaking out to trace a vein and lap at salty, heated skin.
Remembering the particular spots along Vadim's neck and behind
the ear, that used to produce the most remarkable reactions.
Vadim
tensed, hands nearly closing, fingers digging into Dan's back,
and, yes, he was hard, and his cock twitched. He groaned and
pressed Dan closer. "Anything
just
anything.
Could
lend that good hand
"
"Or
I could lend you my throat." Dan's murmur returned to
huskiness, while his good hand was working on the other's
trousers. "Up to you. You just say. I'll be your whore."
Didn't have a clue how the last word had slipped out, decided
after a brief moment that this was far too interesting a new
game to bother about the ramifications. At least not just
yet.
Vadim
looked up, a sudden flash of something in his eyes, the blue
intense as lightning just then, and the frown disappeared
faster than it had come. He knew absolutely nothing about
prostitutes, had never been there, no females to keep his
cover, no males. Every conscript had been available, so why
pay? But Dan, rendering a service. Dan
submitting to
what he wanted. Unconditionally. "Suck me", he murmured,
hands sliding back to rest on Dan's shoulders, pushing him
down. His face, flushed, and heavy eyelids hiding most of
the emotion in his eyes.
"Aye."
Dan didn't quite manage to open the zip and pull down the
briefs one-handed. "Whatever you want." Looking
up, the darkness of his eyes intensified as he worked on the
zip while nuzzling cock and balls through the fabric, and
Vadim wanted to help him, wanted to make it easy and get to
the good part - when he suddenly realized this was already
the good part. A great part. Excellent part.
"How
do you want me to suck you." Mouthing the hard contours
while pushing the trousers down, "Sir." Added, out
of nowhere.
Vadim's
stomach muscles tightened, every muscle in his body electrified
at that word. Sir. The epitome of power. Part of him wanted
to tie Dan up and throw him on the bed only to fuck him, hard
and fierce, but he couldn't resist the lips. The eyes, that
dark glance that invited and lured and seemed mostly waiting
for something. "Deep", he said, voice rough. "And
fast." No patience, not with these stakes.
"Sir,
yes, Sir." Uttered sharply, as if he were still in the
Forces, Dan nodded, managed to pull the briefs down and free
the cock, pressing his face against it, revelling in the hard
smoothness. The game mixed-up. Hustler, soldier, who the fuck
cared. As long as he was right there, on his knees, about
to lick and taste that cock and feel once again the heady
power of the powerless.
He'd
meant to take his time, but he had his order and there was
no preliminary niceness, no licking of the head and shaft,
lapping at precum, toying with the sensitive opening. Just
his lips, closing around the swollen tip, and his head, moving
down, his throat, opening. Impossible to deep throat in the
pace he was setting himself, but his good hand closed tightly
around Vadim's cock, stroked with the same rhythm as his head
and the suction was hard and unforgiving. Fucking himself
fiercely.
Vadim
couldn't help it, worse, didn't want to help it, instead
placed both hands on Dan's head, against the back of it, knew
how much he could ask and at the same time knew Dan would
deal with it, and that he wouldn't last long, anyway, not
at that speed, not with Dan doing this. He thrust forward,
forcing Dan deeper, taking control, just like that, feeling
everything inside tighten as the pressure came down harder,
fucking Dan in hard, not very controlled thrusts, just. A
few. More, and went rigid, came hard, while Dan was gagging
around the intrusion. Vadim shuddering and sweating, legs
weakened as he heard himself pant and groan like a horrible
weight had been taken off his shoulders.
Dan didn't
tense, though, not after the first reflex. Did the opposite
instead, just let go. Strange, to simply let go. Relaxing
with that cock down his throat, and the urge to cough and
worse, and yet his body went slack and his eyes closed. Just
waiting. Taking. Waiting until he could swallow again. Could
breathe.
Vadim
pulled back, not completely out, loved Dan's heat and wetness,
instead ran his hand down one cheek while Dan drew in deep
breaths through his nose. Thumb tracing the line of the upper
lip that was still semi-pursed against his cock, fingers cupping
the chin, stubble and sweat against his hand, and it hurt
to love so much.
Dan's
eyes opened, and he blinked once, twice. Didn't move anything
else, just stayed right there and then, arms slack at his
sides, the cock softening in his mouth. Right where it belonged.
Trusting, if Vadim was going to shove anything else down his
throat, he'd take that, too. Even a muzzle. Or a blade.
Vadim
gave him a smile, calm now, relaxed, at peace, happy, all
tension gone, all fear gone, all darkness gone. "I liked
that thought. Both. The
hooker. The
'sir'."
Dan cleared
his throat as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
A missed drop, but he still licked his hand, making Vadim's
eyes widen a touch. "I had a feeling you did." A
slow grin began to spread across Dan's face. "No idea
where they came from, but I think they will be back."
Back?
A game. Dan liked his games, and, thought Vadim, so do I.
"Interesting." Lame answer, but the blood still
hadn't returned to his brain. Vadim pulled back, stowed his
cock away, could still feel Dan. Was about to step away to
find something to drink, but extended a hand. "Come."
Dan's
fingers closed around Vadim's hand and he let himself be pulled
up and back onto his feet. "Are you telling me now how
good it was for you, asking me if it was good for me and declaring
that I'm the one, the only one and you want to make an honourable
man of me?" His grin turned into a full-blown smirk.
Vadim
grinned. "You think the CO has the legal powers to marry
us? Like a ship's captain?"
Dan laughed,
deep-bellied, except that he his throat tickled. "We've
already been through that, and you've decided I look shit
in a dress, so let's forget about that one."
Vadim
glanced around, then saw bottles of water stand near the bed.
Didn't know the brand, which was strange, come to think of
it. He knew all the possible brands of water that were drunk
in the merc camp, so
these were not drunk in the merc
camp. Good work, Sherlock. He stepped over, picked one up,
checked the cap for tampering, then unscrewed it. "That
jarhead water?"
Dan took
a glance and nodded. "Seems so." Holding his hand
out, impatiently waiting for Vadim to finish drinking. "Right
now I'm thankful for it having been left here." He looked
at Vadim, who lowered the bottle, straight on, not a flicker
of his eye and not a twitch in his expression. Jarhead. Matt.
Donahue. Delta.
Vadim
met the gaze. Donahue. His water. The place where he and Dan
met. He handed the bottle over and wiped his lips, watching
Dan. That expression was too schooled, too controlled. Dan
was hiding something, protecting. From him, and against him.
The closest thing they could get to hostile. Or was it? He
couldn't trust his judgement. Dan might be joking
only
that he didn't joke like that. "Well." Didn't know
what else to say and looked away first. He didn't win staring
competitions any more. That particular bone in his body appeared
to have been broken, no, pulverized.
Dan took
the water and lifted it straight to his lips. Drinking in
long, thirsty draughts that rolled over his tongue, down his
throat, filling his stomach. The water was lukewarm, but the
shady room had kept the worst off it. Finishing, he set the
bottle down on the chair beside him, only now realising his
trousers were still pooling around his ankles, which made
him grin and the atmosphere changed, all tension dissipated.
"You want to stay here for a while before heading into
camp, or tackle the bull straight by its horns?"
"Wouldn't
mind stretching my legs", murmured Vadim, and moved towards
the bed. Dan never managed to lie with a smile. These were
100% gold. "Just rest up a few minutes." Unlacing
the boots, then pulling them off, he pondered what the Donahue
thing meant. What it actually meant, not what it was.
He looked up and gave a smile. "Your American and French
buddies can wait five more minutes for their presents, aye?"
"Shit,"
Dan sat down with his bare arse on the bed. "You're saying
something here. I didn't bring any prezzies, now did I?"
Looking inconsolable for a moment, until he had Vadim's full
attention and only then did he break into a grin. "Well,
not much anyway."
Vadim
shook his head, grinning. "I thought you did." Just
like Dan to bring
whatever presents to soldiers that
needed a change to the same old. Just like in Afghanistan,
leaving full bergans behind. This time, it would be Jean and
Donahue that received the gifts.
Bending
down to undo his bootlaces, Dan glanced sideways, "besides,
I'd take a Russkie any day over anyone else. You did get that,
didn't you? Roof top, Thailand, embassy and all, eh?"
"Yes.
You just can't kick the habit of Slavs
" Vadim
moved, patting the mattress next to him. Didn't care what
else Dan had done in this room. It was safe, and quiet, and
he ignored the fact that Jean, strictly speaking, was a Russkie
too. Didn't matter. Not for the next five minutes. Or ten.
Shuffling
over, Dan lifted his legs, fiddling with the laces of his
boots in that awkward position. "Morose, hm?"
"Always."
Vadim stretched to reach the laces, but pulling the boots
off Dan's feet proved impossible from that position, so he
got up and pulled from the other side, setting the boots down
and studying Dan there, on the bed, his, and soon again a
mercenary and not a bored tourist. Civilian shoes were less
difficult to take off, he reflected.
He got
on the bed again, close to Dan, and held him with one arm,
tight, feeling him breathe and the heart beat, and thought
the whole soldiering business was such as waste of time.
*
* * * * * *
Two hours
later and a quick nap in between, they were in a rickety taxi
on their way to camp. Dan had his old bergan strapped to his
back, one bag in his good hand, Vadim carrying the rest of
their luggage. They got out of the car after a quick exchange
with the driver, not even bothering to haggle the price, then
striding towards the gates.
"Home
sweet home, right?" Dan flashed a grin at Vadim.
Vadim
squinted his eyes against the low sun and knew the beast would
swallow him up again. 'Home' was no place. Not here, not anywhere.
Dan would have to do, like before the prison, but even then,
there had been a family. This place wasn't home, this was
merely where he slept after work. "At least the pay's
good."
"Aye,
and that means I can take you to New Zealand, show you the
farm I bought, and then have it all done up for our retirement."
Dan's lips curved into a cocky grin, seemingly not being able
to imagine such a thing as retiring from active duty. Forty-two,
a knackered body, but he kept beating it into submission.
Vadim
smiled and shook his head. The farm. A far distant place on
the other end of the world, and both of them retired old pensioners
sitting on a porch, watching sheep? Actually, that did sound
nice. "You'll have to take me there", he murmured.
"Next
R&R, if it works out. My treat." The guards opened
the gate after Dan's and Vadim's ID passes were shoved under
their noses, and Dan kept walking, straight towards the guard
house, to sign in with the duty officer. Craning his head
back at Vadim, "I'm just thinking about the poor bastards
who do this as their regular army job. They earn how many
times less than we do?"
"Substantially."
Vadim had to remind himself not to touch Dan, had to remind
himself to stay away and was still standing close as he signed
in as well, would have to remember no kissing, no touching.
He glanced towards the camp. Mitch would certainly raise the
issue - but then, part of him was looking forward to fighting
him again. "Do we move the kit right away?"
"What
time is it?" Dan turned half-way to face Vadim, the shades
back over his eyes after a brief stint of identification.
He stood close, one booted foot between Vadim's legs, and
a hand brushing along one thigh as he turned back to the guard
who'd said something. "What?"
"I
said tea time, mate." The soldier pointed to the wall
clock behind him, a cheap plastic affair. "Scran's up
in a second."
Turning
once more to Vadim, Dan grinned. "Sounds good to me.
Let's dump our stuff in my hut and catch some food. Starving
again. We can pick up the big parcels from the mail station
afterwards."
Vadim
nodded, and kept himself from placing a flat hand between
Dan's pecs to push him away. Close. Whatever would happen
in this desert, Dan was close. "Mail. Right." Mail
was hardly worthwhile - sometimes legal letters and tax stuff
from Her Majesty's Bureaucracy. No more letters from a dutiful
wife. "Started any pen pal friendships while you were
bored?"
"Bored?
When?" Dan smirked, "and no, no pen pals, but I
had parcels delivered here. Already forgotten? My new CD player
and the other goodies."
"Oh,
your shopping. You entirely manly male shopping, that is."
Finding some of the lightness of Dubai, and holding onto it.
Ignoring everything else, most of all the feeling he didn't
belong here.
"Exactly,
that one." Dan laughed. The manly shopping. Techno
gadgets." He winked behind the shades, only the quirk
of one brow and the twisting of the scar in his face visible.
They
headed deeper into camp, where two teams had just arrived,
covered in red dust, and heading towards the armoury to hand
in the weapons. Vadim thought for a moment they looked like
mythical creatures, more animals than men. Like those soldiers
in myth, grown from dragon's teeth. Dragon spawn. He didn't
look closer, merely trotted towards Dan's hut.
Walking
slower for a moment, checking out the men, Dan tried to find
a familiar face amongst them. He had to catch up with Vadim
a second later. "Wondering yet what the scran assassin
has cooked this time? I already miss the buffet in Thailand."
"Something
with enough fat, sodium, and cholesterol to get even my heart
into a nervous stutter, no doubt." The salt made sense,
though, with the amounts they sweated out. "Good I start
patrol duty tomorrow. That way I can get rid of the calories."
"Bugger,
and I'm still off for at least another couple of weeks."
Dan gave his hips a quick twist until they collided with Vadim's.
"Guess that means I'll turn into a fat bastard in the
meantime." He grinned, "oh, and better get the wrist
checked out with the medic, don't I?"
"The
way you treat that bandage, no doubt."
One dusty
sweaty face lit up in the group of men while Dan was talking,
and Jean briefly raised his rifle to acknowledge him, gesturing
that they'd talk later. Noticing no doubt how Dan and Vadim
were far closer now. A roguish grin, and Jean gave a wink.
"Hey!"
Dan called over, "missed me, Princess?" Laughing
his head off at the reaction, when Jean flipped the bird and
called back: "Damn, we got off the wrong road. This must
be the magic kingdom, I just saw a fairy."
"Ha
ha ha!" Dan shouted across, wiggling his hips in an exaggerated
fashion and bumping into Vadim a few times, who seemed just
plain bewildered. "You're just dried up and missing me,
wanker."
Jean's
crew, tired and dusty, were laughing and joking amongst themselves
and Jean gave Dan a nod, another grin and an insulting gesture.
Dan was still laughing as he waved the Frenchman off.
They
had almost reached the hut and Dan checked out Vadim, who
glanced back over his shoulder, brow dark, as if he was unable
to read Jean's comment, his joke, or the whole interaction.
"Hope
you won't regret having me on the same mattress every night."
Dan suddenly flashed a grin.
"No.
Will you?" Vadim couldn't help but ask, and felt stupid
as his voice seemed heavier than he'd wanted.
"Why?"
Throwing his right shoulder against the door, which had got
stuck from the constant change from heat to cold, Dan stumbled
inside with a bright grin. "I'm the one who manages to
sleep curled around you, at 48 plus degrees, while you are
turning into a big puddle of sweat. I sure as fuck won't regret
anything."
"It
gets colder at night. Then you are clearly welcome. And
even in the heat." He'd regret that, Vadim knew, but
the little discomfort was worth it. Maybe Dan's sleeping brain
just needed the connection. Like his own sleeping brain always
fucked him up.
Dan waited
until Vadim had stepped into the gloom, then kicked the door
shut, grabbed the other's shirt into his fist and yanked him
close. All in one fluid motion that Vadim didn't resist at
all. "I told you, my Russkie, I won't ever be without
you again." Murmured, lips so close they almost touched
until Dan crossed even that minimal distance and pulled him
into a kiss.
Vadim's
hands connected with Dan's back, pulling him closer, digging
into his flesh as his lips opened and the hunger was back
like there had been no quick release just a couple hours ago.
It would be difficult to turn up for duty, Vadim thought with
humour, pulling away just to murmur, "No regrets. Not
ever."
"Good."
Dan's shades hung at a precarious angle. "Just a bit
of a problem now." His hands still on Vadim's hips, the
good one digging into muscles as he rubbed his groin once
against the other's to emphasise his unspoken point. "Still,
I'm starving, guess I got to think of icebergs and bomb proof
hairdos."
Vadim
managed to pull away, his mind somewhere completely different,
and yes thinking something else would be good now, otherwise
he'd feed Dan a couple of snack bars and not let him out of
the hut. He pushed the bag to the side with his foot. "Let's
get you some food, then. And maybe
call it an early
night tonight?"
"Definitely."
Dan lifted his shades and stared down at his all too prominent
cock. "Damn." Muttered, "down, boy, down!"
To no avail, even when he added a frustrated "woof!"
He sighed, "can't be helped, I'm starving, and it's not
that the guys haven't seen a hard-on before." Grinning
from one ear to another, "and if I'm really lucky they
think it's a greeting for them."
*
* * * * * *
Around
lunchtime the next day, Dan was walking across the compound,
carrying a bag in his good hand, while whistling. Back in
the customary shades, t-shirt, shorts and flip-flops, he ignored
any stare that had potentially grown nastier since they've
returned - and returned together, clearly a couple. Nodding
with a grin to those who couldn't give a shit either way.
"Hey!"
Hollering before he even got close to Jean's hut, "Princess!"
Smirking at the odd turn of head and incongruous gape from
some of the passers-by.
A little
later, the door opened and Jean was leaning against the door
frame, white dusty wifebeater clinging to his upper body,
camo trousers riding low on his abs, displaying an expanse
of shining skin with the faint glory trail towards his belly
button which was just barely covered by the shirt. "Ah.
Mr Honeymoon is paying a visit."
Dan's
eyes were going ostentatiously from head to toe and back again,
grin blooming into a fully-blown smirk. "Aye, and I thought
I'd better deliver the favours to the wedding guests, aye?"
Raising his bag he waved it about. He didn't even try to hide
the reaction in his shorts to the sight of that French motherfucker.
Jean
moved to the side only enough to allow Dan to squeeze in,
allowing him to pass by getting very close, glancing downwards.
Mildly surprised, but still on top of the game. "Wedding
guests? I want cake, then. And maids of honour to
dishonour."
"Fat
chance, Frenchie. Unless you like to fuck the nice arse of
a gentleman of honour." Grinning ferally, Dan slipped
past and into the hut, adding when the door closed behind
him, "wait, as far as I remember you do like fucking
a nice arse."
"Yeah,
but only if it's extra special nice." Jean gave a laugh
and clapped Dan on the shoulder. "You look well rested."
"Easy
to do after two weeks in Thai heaven and one in Dubai luxury."
Dan held the bag out to the other. "Here. And happy birthday
to you, too."
"Awww,
you shouldn't have." Jean took the bag, glancing at Dan
to gauge what might be in it - like a rattlesnake or other
practical joke, then opened it.
Inside,
packets and CDs, a wrapped up Sony Discman, a round black
box with cables, the CDs were The Doors, Jimi Hendrix, Steppenwolf,
and some of the other classics. Jean glanced up, grinning.
"You got my birthday date wrong, but that's fine. Let's
make it Christmas today."
"Aye,"
Dan grinned, "figured you needed an edumacation in good
music taste."
"Careful
the Legion has a long and rich musical tradition."
Jean pulled out a final box with a beautiful oriental pattern,
which contained a silk scarf with deep, rich colours, and
Jean raised an eyebrow. "Aw, you do love me after all.
It wasn't just a thing for one night."
"Har,
har, har." Dan almost blew a raspberry. "Very funny,
Frenchie. That's for your lady, thought she might appreciate
something from Dubai." Sitting down on the bed, Dan pushed
the shades into his hair before leaning back. "Don't
get your hopes up, Princess, I might bring you prezzies, and
might kiss you awake, but I sure as fuck won't sweep you up
into my arms and take you away on my mighty steed." He
laughed, adding, "unless it's for a shag of course."
Jean
glanced towards the door. "I guess the other knight in
black armour might disagree about any sweeping up stuff going
on here, eh?" He put the scarf back into the box and
set it on the table to the side.
Dan shrugged,
"That's not up for discussion. I love him, that's that,
but you think I am going back to the monogamy of Afghanistan?
I never bloody shagged anyone except Vadim, until I got here.
No fucking way I go back to that. Wouldn't be fair on my harem,
right?" Flashing a smirk, "Love's one thing, and
everything else is another." Stretching put his long
legs, he dropped the plastered hand across his lap. "Or
don't you agree?"
Jean's
eyes dropped, continuing to dip lower as he grinned. "Okay,
fair enough
" He moved closer and placed a hand
on Dan's chest. "Can't say I disagree. Can't say I'm
not fucking needy after three weeks with just Mrs Thumb and
her four daughters
"
"What,
you didn't find yourself another fuck-toy?" The mock-shock
brought an evil gleam to Dan's dark eyes. "And here I
was, thinking that the whole camp was lying down in front
of your feet, squealing 'take me! Take me!'" He managed
simultaneously to grin, snort, pull the t-shirt up to his
throat and the waistband of his shorts down as much as they
would go, revealing the line of dark hair.
Jean
moved nearer, his chest hovering close to Dan's, supporting
himself on one arm as the other went up to pull the shirt
off, briefly lowering his head. "As a point of fact,
nope, no such offers. But I hardly hang 'round the Americans,
might have been luckier scoring there, eh?" Dipping his
head low to kiss the exposed flesh, while Dan chuckled in
the back of his throat.
Jean
flicked his tongue across and into Dan's belly button. "I
guess there were a few holes left unstuffed while you were
gone
"
"You're
pretty one-track in your thinking, mate." Dan's good
hand rested on the bent neck, making its way against the growth
into the short hair, stroking upwards. "It's not all
about fucking
"
"Sometimes
it's about being fucked?" Jean looked up, grinning, bared
his teeth and traced the ridge of one of the scars, then the
pattern of sixpack that became visible.
"Ha,
ha, tosser," Dan rolled his eyes, laughing breathlessly
at the touch of lips and teeth. "Here I was, thinking
a Frenchman like you knew all about l'amour. Sucking,
stroking, rubbing, all that shit." His hand slipped beneath
Jean's white vest, tracing down heat-damp skin as far as he
could reach. "I happen to like a male body, and whatever
can be done with it."
Jean
came up to meet Dan in a kiss, playful, but with heat and
determination, almost straddling him now. "Here
"
he murmured, breathless, "is a male body, so
what
do you
want to do with it, huh?" Kissing again
with lips and teeth open, tongue following as he pressed in,
enjoying the building passion and heat and not stopping once
to think.
"Well
" Dan breathed out, "you could always return
the favour." Tugging on fabric to get the top off Jean's
body. Dan managed to grin from ear to ear while never completely
stopping the kiss.
Jean
shed the vest, tossing it to the side without looking. "Which
favour?" Sucking on Dan's lower lip now, pressing up
against him, skin smelling of soap and sweat and dust.
Dan's
eyes closed for a moment, as he fought, then lost, and let
go of the groan that had been building up in his chest. "Your
arse
." A man had to try, no matter how well he
knew the answer. He'd still try and try again, while grinning
like a fool. Hand roaming across Jean's back to rest on the
powerful neck, relishing sweat, strength and skin beneath
his fingers.
Jean
laughed. "I'm curious, but not that curious ..."
"OK."
Dan smiled and shrugged one-sided while Jean swallowed, debating,
maybe, for a moment. Horny too, but at the same thing, that
would make him gay, right? "You been thinking about my
ass?"
Dan's
laughter hitched, while his fingers tightened into Jean's
neck muscles. "I think about everyone's arse,
if they are worth thinking about. I'm a bloke, for fuck's
sake. I think about sex 24/7." Lifting his hips off the
bed to grind against Jean, then pulling him down, close to
his lips once more. "And you, Frenchie
" murmured,
while kissing, "have a particularly nice arse."
Jean
was on top, grinding into Dan, kissing deeply, lust still
growing. "I'm flattered, but trust me, if I ever want
to know what it's like getting fucked, I'll ask you to do
it, but
just
doesn't really do it for me, okay?"
Dan grinned,
shook his head when Jean did seem sorry, and seemed to want
to make up for it by opening Dan's trousers, sliding them
down, helping him to shed them fully.
"Don't
be stupid." Dan's interest was obvious, but then he had
started to be interested back when Jean had opened the door.
"I don't care. I get enough arse in my life anyway. Can't
complain." Kicking the shorts into a corner, he grinned.
"Just give me your speciality."
Jean
paused, wondering, maybe, about Dan and Vadim, then grinned
at him. "Yeah." He stripped the shirt off Dan, kissing
his chest and sides, slowly moving up over Dan's throat and
jaw, chin to his lips, hands roaming as he did, taking hold
of Dan's cock like it was his own, kissing him deeply and
hungrily while beginning to pump him.
Moaning
into Jean's mouth, Dan lost himself within heartbeats. Just
like every single time he kissed that wannabe French motherfucker
with his Russian face and Russian eyes and ... nothing otherwise
Russian about him. Nothing like Vadim. Nothing
and
then Dan ceased to think. Hips pushing towards the hand, his
own digging hard into Jean's neck muscles, pushing and pulling.
Close, closer and more, as always drowning in that goddamned
skill of lips and teeth.
"You
sexy bastard", murmured Jean between kisses, pressing
against Dan's leg, knowing he'd come into his pants. Free
hand holding Dan close, who was losing control, rapidly, as
suddenly somebody banged against the door.
"Jean,
you in there?"
"Merde!"
hissed Jean, jumping off Dan as if stung by a scorpion. "What
the fuck do you want?" Called out.
"What?"
Dan croaked. Lips swollen, body in the dumbfuck state of arousal.
"I
wanted to talk about the route tomorrow." The voice behind
the door shouted.
Jean
closed his eyes. "Putain", he murmured, already
getting up, fishing for the shirt.
"You
can't be fucking serious!" Dan groaned, desperate, yet
already looking around for his shorts. What the fuck was he
going to do with that hard-on of his?
Jean
shrugged, cast an apologetic glance to Dan, who was cursing
under his breath while getting to his feet and towards his
shorts. Bringing out a stream of the most colourful expletives
he could find, in every language that came to his mind, including
Pushtu and Russian.
"We
should talk through the route and the map. I'm going to brief
the boys, so
" The disembodied voice called out
once more.
"Yeah,
it's important, it's about the job. Get ya." Jean slid
the shirt down, got his trousers back in order, then walked
towards the door while Dan just about managed to get into
his shorts and close them haphazardly. The t-shirt was irretrievably
lost. Couldn't be helped.
Jean
glanced at him, and Dan nodded before scooting back onto the
bed, snatching his shades and pushing them onto his nose.
Flip-flops somewhere, t-shirt hopefully out of sight, in nothing
but those goddamned shorts.
"Sorry.
Come on in." Jean called out, opening the door. That
very moment Dan spotted a deck of cards, hastily went for
it, and leaned over the table, hiding his raging arousal by
dishing out cards.
He'd
kill that motherfucker. Tomorrow.
The other
merc came through the door and Jean kept in his back, or half
covered by the door, hiding the evidence nonchalantly, as
if he'd never done anything else.
"Thanks,
Jean. You lucky bastard are off tomorrow, but after what happened
last week, I want to be one hundred percent sure."
"Sure,
no problem. Only
didn't want to turn my back on Mad
Dog. The bastard's cheating at cards."
"Aye,
Frenchie!" Dan called out, even managed to laugh, while
randomly dishing out cards.
Jean
brought out a map and unfolded it on the table, explaining
the route and the possible problems, again. Apparently, the
route had changed after an attack, and people were generally
more on edge than normal. Jean kept close to the other, hiding
behind the man's body, who seemed at ease with that closeness,
while Jeans spelled out the road. His finger tracing the line
on the map and speaking, monotonous, precise, every now and
then clasping the other's shoulder and cracking a stupid joke.
Mates.
"Thanks
man, that's helpful."
"Take
the map, and bring back Pascal in one piece
I'd miss
my sweetheart too much." More jokes, promises of bringing
back the whole team alive, and Jean saw him out the door,
closing it firmly and locking it as soon as the guy was out.
"Oh fuck."
"Well."
Dan pulled his lips from his teeth, baring both rows, while
stretching his arms to the side, letting muscles slide along
skin. "That was fun."
"No.
Shit. Yes. Fuck." Jean shook his head. "Fuck. Killed
the mood."
"Wouldn't
say so." Dan started to grin, while slowly pushing the
shades off his eyes, perching them on the top of his wild
hair. "You missed a whole show, here. All that touchy-feely
shit going on between you two? Didn't need much imagination
to get the porn rolling in my head." Dan patted the front
of his shorts. "Only thanks to my steely determination
I managed to keep the boy down. The show would have been even
better with booze."
Jean
laughed. "What? Me and him? That was
completely
innocent. Hey, I'm not gay. Seriously."
"No,
of course, not, mate. You're as straight as fuck, your lady
is proof to that." Pointing leisurely at one of the pics
on Jean's wall, Dan smirked, but there was nothing malicious
about that grin.
"Yes.
She is." Jean shook his head. "Pervert. But
booze I have. I'm off tomorrow, he's taking over my patrol."
He nodded towards one of his chests. "There. Some red,
and some whisky."
"Whisky."
Dan didn't even think before deciding. "Where the fuck
did you get the stuff from? Not quite legal here, aye?"
"Nope.
I have friends in high places, and they don't always check
everything. Plus, what I do in my off time is my own business,
and none of theirs. Fuck them." Jean went digging around
the chest, found the whisky, glancing with regret at the wine.
"Wrong temperature. Completely wrong temperature. Shit."
"And
what does that mean? You not even bothering to drink it? Booze
is booze, mate."
"It's
wine." Jean rolled his eyes. "Okay. Yeah, I'll drink
it."
Grinning,
Dan threw the cards onto the table, then shuffling them into
a lose pack. Glancing up from a haphazard fringe of dark hair
and entangled shades. "Think it's safe yet to get our
kit off again? Booze is so much better naked."
"Strip
poker, huh?" Jean nodded towards the cards.
"You
want to play?" Dan laughed, "I'm game, but I warn
you, I'm damn good, with my skills honed by a very special
lady. You'd get naked anyway, so there's no challenge."
Jean
laughed. "No need to draw it out, then
?"
He pulled his shirt free again and dropped it on the floor,
then opened his fly, pushing his trousers down, half-interested,
mostly because of the situation. "I won't dance, you
know."
"Dance?"
Dan laughed at the mental image. "Why the fuck should
you dance?"
"Stripping.
You know. Pole dancing. Don't gays have bars where guys strip
and do dirty things on a pole or on a lap?"
"What
the fuck do I know?" Dan shrugged. "Never been to
anything like that."
"No?"
Jean sounded incredulous.
"No."
Extracting the shades from the mess of his hair, Dan shrugged
before chucking them to the side, then once again getting
out of his shorts. "Got any mugs, or is it drinking straight
out of the bottle?" Dan reached for the whisky as Jean
found two mugs.
"Drinking
wine like this is a crime. Take it from a Frenchman, this
is
a crime."
"I
don't mind. I'll sure as fuck get into the mood again."
Jean
laughed. "I bet you will." He poured drinks, starting
with whisky himself, clearly trying to get drunk quickly as
he gulped it down in a few deep swallows.
"Hey,
you got an agenda, or what? If I keep up with you, I'll be
piss drunk in fifteen minutes." Grinning, Dan downed
his first liberal shot. "Or are you waiting for me to
take advantage of you so that you can claim later it wasn't
because you wanted to do it but because you were pissed?"
Jean
quirked an eyebrow over the rim of the mug. "You think
I'm capable of such a nefarious lie?" He moved closer,
grinning, before Dan could utter any piss-taking remarks.
"You think I'd claim I kissed
" his lips touching
Dan's, moving closer, "caressed
" hands running
over Dan's heated skin, "and stroked
" hand
rubbing the insides of Dan's leg, fingers splayed, "by
accident?"
"Aye."
Dan's grin was on full beam. "I think you are capable
of a hell of a lot." Emptying the mug in one go, the
whisky was running down his throat like liquid fire. He just
about managed not to cough while clinking the empty mug against
Jean's. "But I'm not complaining."
Jean
downed the rest of the whisky, flushing slightly, and poured
more. Feeling the alcohol already, after the enforced sobriety.
Half sitting on Dan, his lips again on Dan's chest, only pausing
to take another swallow of the alcohol. "Hey, never did
anything that was bad for you, or did I?" Pushing Dan's
legs apart, which opened readily, his lips had arrived at
the place where leg met torso, close to Dan's cock, but not
touching. Just biting the inner thigh playfully.
"That
" Dan gasped out, "depends on what you define
as 'good'." His cock was definitely convinced that this
was very, very good, especially the way those lips kept moving
South. Not that Jean could get any further South, perhaps
a little more North would be perfect, and a bit more
he drew in a deep breath while the fingers of his plastered
hand carded through the short blond hair. So much like ...
and yet not
and all was different. No rules and not
giving a damn about what the fuck was going to happen next.
"I need more booze." He managed to get out after
a series of particularly promising nips and bites of the far
too sensitive flesh of his inner thighs.
Jean
grinned and reached over to pour more whisky, adding some
to his own mug, and taking another deep swallow, fingers sliding
down Dan's dam and towards his ass. "God, I fucking loved
fucking your ass", he suddenly said, grinning, changing
sides to nip the other thigh, nose brushing past Dan's cock
by accident.
Dan's
cock jumped towards Jean's face at those words, barely missing.
Downing all of the whisky in one go, he coughed, which rapidly
morphed into several noisy breaths as the lips and teeth kept
doing their work while his legs kept opening further to allow
better access. "I can
imagine. I
"
but he shut up, dropped the empty mug on the bed and his good
hand joined the other, stroking Jean's neck and temple, jaw
line and cheek.
Jean
grinned, baring teeth as he pulled at Dan's flesh. "You
what?" Visibly enjoying the touch, biting firmer until
it stung, then lapping the same reddened skin with his tongue,
as if soothing it. Hand moving to Dan's cock, circling it,
as he moved a little closer to the centre. Cock in full view,
and he glanced up to Dan, almost nervous. "Shit",
he murmured.
"S'okay."
Dan slurred the words together in a husky mumble. The fingers
of his good hand spread across Jean's neck, up the back of
his skull. Even though he didn't mean to, light pressure was
guiding, pointing the way. "Don't have to." Murmured,
but fuck, he'd be ready to pray to any god, Allah, Jehovah,
Baby Jesus, who the fuck ever, if only Jean would. He was
so hard and horny, he'd offer his soul to the devil, if the
old codger didn't already own it. "S'okay
"
Jean
swallowed audibly, the pressure in his neck reassuring, tender
and gentle, and clearer than a thousand words, as clear as
Solange's helpless whimpers or her squirming on the bed. Only
that Dan was by no means Solange. Wrong equipment. Right equipment.
Oh fuck. The taste was salty, almost smoky, a strong taste,
but clean, healthy, and he opened his lips and slipped the
head in. Hand holding the cock, twitching flesh, veins thundering
under his fingers, or his own pulse. He forced his tongue
to extend, probe the thick piece of flesh that was entering
his mouth, lick it, strange, silky, hot, his eyes fixed on
Dan's taut stomach, the terrible groves of scars, survival
written all over that body.
Dan's
groans were everything but controlled. Jean. Straight Jean.
Mate Jean. Friend Jean. Comrade Jean. Straight-as-yeah-hell-fuck
Jean. His hips twitched, but he stilled himself, while he
never increased the pressure on the neck, but never diminished
it either. Just there. Shuddering with lust and staring down
at the sight of the utterly focussed way his cock was being
tasted, licked, and touched.
Jean
took another inch, felt that was as far as he could go, put
pressure on his lips, then remembered his hand, slowly pumping
Dan.
"Shit,
I
" Dan let out incoherent sounds, while his thighs
tensed until he could feel the strain down to his toes. "I
let you
tell
won't cum
know
"
Jean
glanced up at the words, seemingly putting the meaning together
very slowly, then thought he just couldn't look at Dan, not
while
doing this, and stared straight at Dan's stomach,
mind blanking as he tried to remember what to do now. Breathed
in through his nose and sucked on the flesh, feeling Dan respond,
moved up with resistance, and licked across the head, more
taste. So that was precum, he thought, mind blurred by what
he did, while the alcohol was truly nothing but an excuse.
He almost pulled off, then pressed his lips firmer together
and went down again, hand pumping faster than his mouth as
he remembered, and back up again, the motion less stiff now,
coming from his neck and shoulders.
Dan's
thighs tensed even more. Rock solid muscle under deeply tanned
skin, except for the flesh itself that Jean was sucking and
stroking. The sight was killing him, and he didn't have a
clue why this man, of all men who'd sucked him off, was blowing
his mind, not just his cock. Perhaps the unexpected, or the
forbidden, or
and then Jean moved down again, with
slightly more speed and pressure this time, as if he really
meant it and Dan could do nothing but groan and shudder. Heart
racing, breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps, struggling
for control, not to push down on the head. "Oh shit
not long
"
Jean
pulled back again, understanding suddenly what he did, understood
why he did it, and moved with some force, almost jerking back.
Sucking on the head, more taste, feeling Dan tense and wrestle
the emotion, or rather taking it, riding it, and he thought
fuck, he really likes this, really, really enjoys this, and
there was an odd tenderness that made him forget this fucking
awkward thing, this wanting and not wanting, this offering
for something else. Then took him deeper again, careful to
not go too deep, instead working with his tongue and neck,
finding a strange kind of way to do it, one that seemed alright,
less weird, while his hand kept pumping him, and the other
hand dug into Dan's thigh, steadying himself.
Dan's
leg muscles so tense, he was almost on the balls of his foot,
while his abs kept contracting. Wanting to hold Jean's head,
dig into the neck, push him down, but did nothing like that.
Good hand forming into a tight fist instead, eyes closed at
last. Too much onslaught onto his senses, despite the unskilled
attempt, but it wasn't about skills nor experience. It was
the goddamned fact that it was Jean, and that he did
this. His eyes opened before it got all too much and he felt
his balls draw up, abs contracting helplessly, while the orgasm
built up like a geyser, pressure bursting to the surface.
His plastered hand pushed clumsily at Jean's face, pushing
away despite wanting to force that throat down deeper to take
him in all the way. "Now." Forced out, his good
fist slamming into his own thigh.
Jean
pulled back, face flushed, hand still pumping as Dan came,
splattering cum across that belly and thighs and he felt it
hot against his shoulder, and the side of his throat and run
over his hand. He grinned, meeting Dan's gaze, who was staring
at him with inscrutable dark eyes, while Jean's own betrayed
emotions, fondness, and tenderness and more. He released Dan,
who fell back on the bed like a boneless weight. Jean stood,
reaching for his shirt to clean up, saying nothing.
Dan started
to smile, didn't say anything either, until the smile began
to morph into a grin. "Thank you." Clearing his
throat and wetting suddenly dry lips.
"Hey,
just returning a favour." Jean wiped his shirt over his
neck and across his chest. "And I did not learn that
in the Legion. Or in the Soviet Army. Seriously."
Dan was
grinning like a fool. "You sure about that? Compared
to my first blow job this was paradise. Mine was utter crap,
couldn't even get him off."
"Absolutely
sure." Jean grinned and came closer again, one hand on
Dan's shoulder as he leaned in to kiss. "Well, you get
me off fine, so I thought I'd make an effort. Solange is really
good, and you are good, and, well, seems pretty complicated
to me
doing several things at once, you know?"
"Shut
up." Dan murmured, simultaneously teasing and awfully
gentle. Surprised when Jean really did shut up. "You
were doing just fine, Frenchie, and you never need to pay
me back for anything, aye?"
"I
know, but
"
Dan shut
Jean up with a kiss this time, using his hand on the neck
and a fair amount of pressure.
Jean
pressed in, wanting the kiss, needing it worse than any other
touch, desire and lust coming in hard and bad and worse, and
goddamned motherfucking right. He took hold of Dan's good
hand and led it down over his body, to his cock, all the time
kissing him like his life depended on it. "Want you
fucking
need
want
must have", he
said, almost comical as there was no fierceness, only odd
tenderness that was more begging, more inviting than any aggression.
Playful, still, and sensuous with no holds barred.
Dan was
shaken to the core by those words. Couldn't quite grasp their
meaning but sensed it, and some strange tenderness welled
up. An odd soft spot, where he didn't think he should have
one. Not for anyone other than Vadim, and perhaps the Baroness,
and otherwise
and yet the words and that near desperate
kiss turned the post orgasmic haze into something far mellower.
Breaking the kiss, but keeping his hand in the back of Jean's
neck. "What do you want?" Dan smiled, murmuring
against the other's lips. "Want my arse?" And he
didn't even ask himself what he'd just offered.
Jean's
lips opened, nodding, feeling protected and a whole lot more.
"Hand
a hand's alright
but if you
If I can have that, fuck yes
" Lust growing only
worse, weeks and weeks of need and the memory of Dan's body.
"Shit. Oh shit." Knew what it all meant and couldn't
think it, couldn't think desire and lust and more and wanting,
friend and comrade, and mercenary, and fellow man, man.
Dan did
nothing but grin and nod. Strange, how this seemed the most
normal thing in the world. No holding on to his male 'power',
and least of all no Kabul. Was all good, just as he'd said.
"How do you want me?" And that, for fuck's sake,
that was something he had never asked before, never offered.
"Like
this
on your
back." Jean was kissing again.
Didn't say, couldn't even think that this was how he did Solange,
most of the time, assumed it was the position that felt best,
or something, but in truth wanted to understand, wanted to
see it was Dan, and that thought aroused him more. Dan. Mad
Dog. Not just a body, not even just a man.
"Like
this
" Dan repeated, his fingers in Jean's neck
stilled. His smile faltered for a moment as he just looked,
searched, pondered. On his back. Face to face. He'd never
done that, not once. Then he suddenly smiled again, and he
nodded. Was all good in the end, was all okay. No past, no
dark secrets and no extremes of anything. No rollercoaster
of emotions with magnitudes of life and death. No Kabul, and
no derelict house in a stinking alley that had long been reduced
to rubble. "Okay." His hand slid down Jean's shoulder,
resting on the biceps, while his lips quirked lop-sided.
Jean
paused as well, as if he sensed the reluctance, and kissed
Dan again, eager, tender, passionate, heartfelt. "That
alright?"
"Aye.
Just be gentle with me." Dan winked, but there was seriousness
in the humour. "I just came."
"Shit."
Jean gave a laugh. "That means that
you're tender,
right? It's fine, I'm okay with a hand. Or just let me cool
down a bit and keep kissing and stuff, until you're
recovered."
"No
worries, I'll be OK." Taken aback for a moment at this
oddly tender way of being taken care of. With Vadim it was
different, each expected the other to put a stop to things
if they needed to. This was
like being a girl, perhaps,
and Dan suddenly laughed low. "Just don't pound away
like a meat cleaver." Flashing a grin while slowly moving
onto the side so he could scoot properly onto the narrow bed.
Jean
shook his head. "Hey, I can be gentle, now, can I?"
"Aye,"
Dan grinned, "you are."
Almost
as if apologizing. "I am good with just
other stuff." Jean followed onto the bed, lying on top
of Dan, arms keeping most of his weight off Dan's chest, like
he would with Solange, but his cock pressed against Dan's
thigh.
Dan started
to laugh again. "Don't treat me like a china doll, I'm
fucking Mad Dog!" As if emphasising his point, he lifted
his legs, with the other's body between them, and pulled his
knees nearly up to his chest. "What are you waiting for?
I see you're gagging for my exquisite arse." Hiding some
of the strange feeling with a lopsided grin.
Jean
stared down at him, his grin faded, face suddenly smooth and
relaxed, like he rarely was. Jean's usual expression was a
grin, or the beginning of a grin, or a moment of wicked humour.
Dan cocked
his head to the side, and simply watched the face and its
expression he had never seen before. He could not decode it,
but stored it away.
Jean
suddenly frowned as if he had just become aware of himself,
and rolled his eyes as the grin came back. "What a slut",
he muttered, in good humour, and he crawled over, reaching
for lube, and reaching further for a condom.
"Yeah,
I guess." Dan took his knees, hooked his arms underneath
to lift his legs up. Spread, open, and suddenly goddamned
uncomfortable when Jean's body left and he just lay there.
"Hurry up, aye?"
Jean
grinned. "Listen, I'm trying to take it slow and you
already start pushing." Shaking his head as he flicked
open the cap and smeared a generous amount of gel on Dan's
ass, who cursed at the sudden coldness. "Relax. You can
always put your legs on my shoulders
it's easier on
your fucked arm, too." Reaching for a pillow and shoving
it under Dan's ass. "Lift it, sweetheart." Dan did,
and felt a notch more like an idiot.
Slippery
fingers struggling to hold the condom which Jean opened with
his teeth - skilful and practiced enough to alleviate all
fears of punctures, and he rolled it down over his cock, then
leaned against Dan's knees and rubbed Dan's hole. Warming
and distributing the lube, sliding the thumb in, just the
first digit, teasing Dan and grinning as he did, not disgusted
by any of this, merely a friendly, experienced tease. "But
you're right. You have a great ass."
"I
wouldn't know. Can't see it from here."
"Just
trust me with it." Jean leaned in to rub his face against
Dan's leg, pushing his finger deeper, bending it and massaging
the muscle, getting it to relax for him. Strangely erotic,
still, to have Dan like this, and do this, and it gave him
time to calm down, too. Just a bit.
The touch
was good, no question, and if it continued it could even ignite
another slow-burning fire, that soon after he'd cum, but Jesus
fucking Christ, was that what a bint felt on an examination
chair? "You going to find a foetus up there?" Dan
hid the discomfort with a grin.
"Only
if you stuck one up there", Jean retorted, grinning.
"What? You nervous, babe?"
"Did
you just fucking call me 'babe'?" Dan's incredulity couldn't
be any more comical. Especially not with a finger up his arse
and his knees wide open, thighs pressed to his chest.
"I
think I just fucking did." Jean laughed like this was
some stupid standoff in the chow hall. "So what are you
going to do about it, sweetheart?" Joining another finger
and pushing it in, then sliding it out, slowly fucking Dan
with two fingers and giving him the Mother of all Grins. "If
I go too fast or rough or whatever, tell me, okay? Talk to
me. Solange just hits me with a pillow when I do." A
wink, and the grin turning softer, gentler.
"I'm
a bloke. I'm not your Solange." Dan's voice betrayed
that those fingers had an effect. Yet so
vulnerable.
So much for his reputation as Mad Dog, hard-as-nails motherfucker.
"I
noticed. You got the full set." Jean smiled, looking
pointedly at Dan's cock. "I'm not even sure I'd like
you if you got an operation and turned into a girl."
"Shit."
Dan pressed out. "It's just that
damn." Taking
in a deep, shuddering breath, "never done it like that
before." Adding, with suppressed aggression, "okay?"
"On
your back?" Jean paused, pulling his fingers out only
to adjust Dan's hips. "Okay. No problem." Then why
the pause, the reluctance, and then agreeing to it? "Are
you positive you want this?"
"Aye,"
and he was. "I just feel
," he grimaced, "like
a total idiot like this, with my legs up in the air. Waiting
for the gynaecologist."
"Yeah,
I can imagine." I can't really, Jean thought. Despite
the vastly powerful body under him, open, ready, Jean couldn't
drag his mind off that thought. Dan's reluctance to get fucked
even though he'd done it, a |