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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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April 1992, France

Dan was becoming aware of the body in his arms, when the grey of the morning was lighting up the room. Pressed against a back, he sighed, comfortable in the familiar heat. Convinced he was lying behind Vadim, holding him close and pressing his morning hard-on against the other's arse. Dan sighed once more, comfortably drifting in half-sleep half-waking, pushing his hips in tiny movements against the firm buttocks.

Waking up, the first Beauvais thought was that he was late. Which woke him up with that urgency that came with expecting a bollocking, something that was not easy to shed and, for him, had always been effective through any alcohol-induced mist. The second thing he was aware of was somebody pressed against him, with a hard-on. Which brought everything back that had happened yesterday. In fact, he was lying against a chest, broad, hairless, with sight on an armpit, hairless, male, and a hand, warm, strong, lying curled up near his cock. Looking into the blonde man's sleeping face brought back what the same man had said. This is sex. Proper sex. And that man's lover shared the bed, pressing up against him, moving his cock between his cheeks and the general area which felt sore. He'd been fucked by two men. First time ever. At his age. His job. Men he hardly knew. He shifted in the other's arms, felt an increasing, if sleepy, insistence. "Hey."

"Hm?" Dan snuffled, his hand slowing the exploration of the other body's hips. "Whassup?" Only then opening his eyes, yawning, and being presented with the back of a head that was anything but blond, short-shaved dark instead; a body that was anything but broad and tall, wiry and shorter instead. "Oh." Dan grinned sheepishly, "sorry. Thought you were Vadim." But he didn't stop the movements, returning to the exploration with his hands.

"Never mind." Beauvais relished the touches, the other man's strength, that sleepy, gentle, insistent, and horny exploration, like the other was measuring him up, and he remembered the tongue in his ass. And the feeling of being pounded, of a sensation that he'd never known existed, not like this. Semi-hard himself, he took Dan's hand and moved it to his cock, which readily curled around and began to stroke. "Seems you want to repeat?"

"Aye, if you're not too sore?" Dan grinned, eyes closed again, keeping his voice low, even though he didn't expect Vadim to be asleep any longer. Not with the growing movement. "While I don't let myself get fucked all that often …" whispering into the Lieutenant's ear, the grin audible in his voice, "I'd say I know that being sore from fucking can be a good … or a bad thing. What's it to be?"

"Go ahead." It was a good ache right now, and with that hand around his cock, it felt even better. Hardening fully under the strokes, he was ready for another round. Beauvais knew time was limited, he couldn't do this again, so better get the most of it. Curving his back to press into the cock. Yes. Sore.

"Wait …" Dan chuckled, "if you're too eager it'll hurt like fuck. And that's not the good kind of ache."

"Yes, doesn't work with just spit ... does it."

"No, but gun oil works just fine." Leaning back to look for condoms and lube, but damn, while Dan could get hold of the lube, the condoms were out of reach behind Vadim's back. "Bugger, the condoms are over there."

"Never mind. Go ahead."

Dan paused, lube warming in his hand, and fuck was he tempted. "No." Murmured, "can't. I don't know …" Didn't continue, felt like an idiot, not that he didn't believe the officer was clean, but fuck, damn, and …"not because of me."

"Fair enough. I fucked around in Africa."

Dan reached out and prodded Vadim, while his hand began to rub the lube between the legionnaire's tight buttocks, carefully slipping a finger into the sore ass, which made Beauvais hiss. Yes, sore. But it also made him press back.

"Vadim … hey!" Softly, but insistent.

Vadim opened an eye and smirked. "Requiring my accompliceship?"

"You bastard." Dan grinned, "knew you'd be awake." Never letting up his movements, as his other hand dropped back to Beauvais' cock. Now two fingers entering, while stroking.

Vadim stretched some more, had already been stretched by now, but found a few more inches in his body that he could stretch. "Condom?"

"Aye, and if you want to be a proper accomplice, put it on my cock, if you please. My hands are busy …"

"Okay." Vadim reached out, found another condom in the box - seemed Jean had been optimistic about that orgy thing - tore it open and manoeuvred behind Dan to roll it down over his cock. Beauvais was visibly enjoying what Dan did, the Legionnaire already panting, perfectly ready for another round of fucking. "Least complicated virgin I've ever encountered", Vadim murmured.

"That's because he's one of the fucking hard ones - foreign legion, aye?" Dan grinned, the huskiness in his voice growing, "I'd say they come close to SAS and spetsnaz …" he chuckled, but was still taking his time. 'Cruelly', because the man under his hands was damned delicious in his need, and fucking him with his fingers while stroking him, feeling every tiny reaction, was a bloody fine foreplay.

Beauvais closed his eyes, hands formed fists, then he moved, pushing himself up on hands and feet, and looked at Dan. Teeth bared, daring him to finally do it, then to Vadim, same challenge in his face. Vadim laughed. "Seems here's another one that's very patient. Do you want to get fucked, soldier?" he asked, voice low.

"Yes. No games. Just do it."

"But the games are half the fun." Dan grinned back, teeth and all, accepting the challenge. He was behind the Lieutenant and between his legs, sheathed cock lubed and poised at the obviously sore arse, hands firmly on the lean hips. "You'll like this one. It's called accepting a challenge …" With that he pushed forward, no holding back, thrusting and plunging in deep, all in one stroke. Holding the slighter body firmly, there was nowhere for Beauvais to go.

Beauvais' legs nearly buckled, the groan was part pain and part a dark kind of lust. The sound made Vadim's guts tighten. He knew exactly what Beauvais was feeling. That need, lust spiked generously with pain, both mixed until they became something more, something greater, and Dan was the perfect partner to achieve that.

Beauvais knew he'd regret abusing his body like that, but like any good, driven soldier, he just took the consequences of a decision, even if it was pain or death. The state of his cock didn't leave any doubt just how much he 'enjoyed' getting fucked even while he was raw. The lean body tense and taut, resisting the onslaught with everything he had, and fully melting into it. Again, he closed his eyes, listening into himself, just climbing and using the lust. He spread his legs a bit more and pushed back, as if pitting his strength against Dan's.

And Dan did not disappoint. Used once again all the considerable power of his body to fuck that man, and make him feel with every fibre of his body and mind, what he was doing - and why. Breathless, heart racing, sweat shimmering on his body, Dan never let up, never slowed down, imprints of his hands deeply in Beauvais' flanks while fucking him without mercy, because mercy was not what the legionnaire wanted. It took longer this time, far longer, morning and sleep and last night's exertion, all coming together. By the time Dan finally let go with a few last erratic, and utterly vicious thrusts, he took Beauvais' cock in his hand, stroking as brutally as he had fucked him, cumming with a shout.

Beauvais came shortly after, convulsing like he was in agony, rigid, taut, exhausted, and clearly in pain, but his eyes glowing like those of a wolf who'd just killed. A primal hunger sated for the moment, and a wild beast let loose with it. He collapsed, belly down on the mattress, shuddering, hands in fists, sweaty.

The scent made Vadim smile, and he looked at that ass, wondering just how much pain the legionnaire wanted. He could deliver. He wanted to fuck him, whether he was still aroused or not, whether he could take it or not. For a long, long moment, Vadim did absolutely not care.

But that would be rape, wouldn't it?

He shook his head, needed to take his eyes off Beauvais who couldn't and wouldn't defend himself right now.

Dan collapsed on the air bed, beside the Lieutenant, and just about managed to take the condom off, tie it up and chuck it into a corner. Lying there, breathing hard, he placed a hand onto Beauvais' sweaty back. "You okay?"

"Yes."

Voice breathless, Dan glanced up at Vadim, blinking sluggishly. His smile began to grow into a grin. "And you?"

Vadim forced his eyes off Beauvais, remembered an icy night, an officer, and a shot that had blown his brains out. Remembered the ultimate vindication of thoroughly destroying a man.

And you are nothing but an animal, Vadim Petrovich. A danger to civilization and everything humanity has accomplished.

Konstantinov was right. That flaw was in him, part of him, and would never leave. Just ... feeling that way, just imagining this, taking advantage - hell, Beauvais would likely even think he'd invited it. Because, yes, he was pushy for a virgin, and he'd shared this room and this night with two total strangers, dangerous strangers at that - that was a possibility, and everything in his body said go, while his mind reeled. "I'm okay. Damn, you used him all up."

"Hey …" Dan waved a lazy hand in a come-hither motion. "I can blow you. You know how much of a cock sucker I am." Grinning, he stretched out on his back, reaching for a couple of pillows to prop up his head. "Just don't make me get up." Holding his arm out, beckoning for Vadim to come close.

Vadim firmly pushed Beauvais out of his mind, instead moved close, over Dan, positioning his cock at Dan's lips. Moving carefully and gently, even though some impulses wanted to be brutal, and wanted to fuck, and not this. Too nice, too ... consensual. He groaned at that thought, kept his mind focused, as Dan took him in deep and allowed him to fuck his throat. It was good, great even, fuck, but there was something else that he wanted, and he couldn't have that, shouldn't do it. He was relieved when he came, as that sated feeling covered up that other need, that other impulse. He moved to place his head on Dan's shoulder, holding him, eyes closed. He didn't want to see the officer.

Dan was lying for a while, eyes closed, smoking a cigarette from a pack he'd discarded nearby. Holding Vadim and stroking his back, before he turned his head to look at the Lieutenant, who seemed to have drifted back off to sleep.

"Any idea what time it is? I'm starving, got to have a proper breakfast and wash-up before getting into the wedding clobber. Can't be stinking of sweat and sex." He grinned from ear to ear.

Vadim reached over to check the time. "Seven thirty. Maybe head back into our room and have a good, long shower before the fun and games start."

"And here I was, thinking we've already had our fun and games."

"Well, before Jean's fun and game start ..."

Beauvais turned around. "I should go first." He got to his feet, face stony enough to show he was in quite a bit of discomfort, then reached for his clothes that were on a pile. He got dressed, slipped into his shoes.

"See you later." Dan waved a hand briefly, "we'll slip out in a few minutes." Getting onto his elbow, calling after the Lieutenant, who was already at the door. "One tip, shower really hot, don't use soap on your arse and dry thoroughly. You'll be as good as new in no time." He added, "by tomorrow anyway."

Beauvais glanced over his shoulder. "Not much of a war wound, is it?" He then headed out.

Vadim exhaled deeply, glad the man was gone, mostly because he had triggered that old response. "You are the gay virus", he murmured and kissed Dan, who just laughed.

* * * * * * *

Breakfast had been prepared in the large downstairs kitchen. A buffet affair, brought in from the local butcher's, cheesemonger's and baker's, with plenty to eat and a multitude of foods to cater for all tastes. The bride and groom were nowhere to be seen, and so they shouldn't, as guests trickled in and out of the kitchen, filling up before the big event.

Dan and Vadim had a substantial breakfast, still unshaved and 'scruffy' from the night, before they retired to their room to get titivated and dressed. It was Dan's turn first in the bathroom, and he took much longer than his usual five minutes including shaving. He was dressing in the room, while Vadim had taken over the bathroom, grooming to perfection.

Standing in front of the large swivel mirror, Dan was fiddling with the cravat. "Have you drowned in there?" Shouting towards the bathroom, amusement in his voice.

"I'm a competent swimmer", Vadim said, opening the door which hid Dan, then pulling his shirt cuffs out from the cuffs of his suit, so the simple metal studs caught the light. Shaved, showered, dried, moisturised, and decked out in highly polished shoes and a suit that seemed both sombre and festive, and was several steps up from the ones he'd bought in Thailand, as nice as they were. For one, it was a three piece suit that played off Vadim's body better than all two piece suits he'd ever worn.

"Good, I was starting to worry." Dan pushed the door shut and came out from behind, looking at Vadim. Dark eyes widening, he exclaimed, "holy fuck." Speechless for a moment, before his face turned into a grin that kept growing until it threatened to split his face. "Shit, you work this male model stuff. You look so fucking good I'd rather stay here and get back out of my own clothes again. But I've got the rings. Damn."

"You're not half bad, either." Vadim smiled, taking Dan in, that strange combination of formal shoes with leather ties that went all the way up to the knees, black knee-high socks with weird fabric 'bunting' that peeked from under the turned-over top of the socks. The black, woollen, pleated 'skirt' with its subtle black-on-black woven tartan; a waistcoat and a very formal jacket on top it, and all with shiny square silver buttons. Never mind the black fur 'pouch' with silver and furry tassels that hung from the broad belt. Strange image. Dan managed to pull it off, though, with his narrow hips and broad shoulders - smoothly shaved, hair washed and shining, he did cut a dashing figure. "Wearing nothing under all that?"

"Of course not!" Dan protested, leaned forward and took hold of the hem of the kilt. "I'm a true Scotsman!" He lifted the fabric, revealing a bare and mostly shaved groin. Letting it drop again, he smirked broadly. "I tell you, my ancestors must all have been gay. After all, can you imagine anything more convenient than easy access - front and behind?" He twirled around, the heavy 'pouch' keeping the 'skirt' in the front down, and the ornamental silver pin kept it from flapping up, as the pleated back swung with the movement.

"Unlikely. You wouldn't be here, then." Vadim couldn't help but grin.

"I would have gone for the proper McFadyen tartan, but they didn't have it in stock, and since I am too bloody tall, this black-on-black one was the best option they had in the shop."

"There are different patterns for each family? And your family is one of them?" Vadim moved closer, running his hand over the woollen 'skirt'. Kilt.

"Aye, it's different tartans for different clans and their septs. The McFadyens have their own tartan, but as far as I know the whole thing only really got going in the 19th century or so. Queen Victoria, stuff like that. Doesn't matter. It's national pride for a Scotsman to wear a kilt and this here," smoothing the fur of the tassels with a grin, "this is the evening version. Worn with Prince Charlie jacket, waistcoat, cravat, silver belt buckle and broad belt, and, of course, the sporran. And before you ask, the bits of fabric on the top of my stockings are called flashes." He grinned even broader, eyes alight, and so very pleased with himself and his outfit. "What do you think?"

"I'll get used to it", said Vadim, grinning. "Like that shirt." Tight at the throat, a great contrast to Dan's tanned skin, the cravat only adding to that. The jacket emphasised the chest, and it did look all formal and ceremonial, vest, silver buttons and all that. "I imagine that must be warm underneath."

"Hm, that's not the enthusiastic response that I expected." Dan frowned, heaved an exaggerated sigh and shrugged. "Guess we can't all be perfect and Scottish, can we?" Reaching for the small knife in its sheath, handle decorated with a large stone on the top.

Vadim laughed and kissed him. "You'd look good in everything. And that includes the kilt and flashes and sporran. And stockings." Moving his arm around Dan, embracing him for a long moment. "I even thought your Muja garb was rather fetching."

Dan laughed out loud. "And you're a fucking weirdo if you thought that." He winked, bent down to slip the sheath into his left hand stocking, explaining. "That's a skean dubh, and it seems to be the only way I can legitimately walk around with a blade displayed on my body. If that isn't an argument for being a Scotsman, then I don't know what is." He grinned, rattling his sporran. "And here we have the most important items of the day, beside an emergency flask with whisky, and right after the bride and groom."

"And I was wondering where you had the rings." Vadim pushed his cuffs to the side to check on his watch. "Twenty minutes. Should we head downstairs?"

"I think we should. I need to show off my fucking sexy, goddamned perfect partner." Dan grinned, checked a last time that the rings really were in his sporran, made sure he had a crisp clean handkerchief, and plenty fags and lighter, as well. When all was set, he walked to the door, opening it for Vadim with an exaggerated bow. "After you, Monsieur in the expensive tailored suit, which cost about five times as much as my whole outfit." Grinning, "and damn worth it is."

"You'll cause the greater stir with that kilt." Vadim headed outside, now hearing the sounds from downstairs, which sounded like a lot of people talking, cheerful, excited, and so it was when they came down the stairs. He spotted Beauvais near the buffet, which was easy with his white hat and flawless uniform. He was fully kitted out like a Legionnaire, and Pascal next to him in civvies looked greatly diminished in a boring suit that was clearly on the cheaper side.

Dan grinned when he saw Beauvais, steering straight towards him. "I thought there was a no-camo rule?" Acknowledging Pascal with a matey slap on the shoulder.

"It's no camo, that's the dress uniform. I thought someone has to represent the Legion." expanding his chest.

"I give you that, the legion manages a better dress uniform than SAS does." Dan grinned, "but since I'm a mere humble civilian these days …" Shimmying his hips for a moment, which made the kilt swing out to the sides, accentuating the length of his muscular legs and the narrow width of his hips.

"So you are a full-blooded Scotsman. Nice handbag." Beauvais grinned to take out the sting, but still made Pascal give a laugh, and Dan to roll his eyes.

"Sporran, Lieutenant, it's a sporran."

Beauvais looked at Vadim, with appreciation barely hidden. "Very dashing."

"Aye, and mine." Dan quipped, looking up when he thought he'd heard his name being called out. At the other end of the hall stood Jean, who looked just as brushed and polished as anybody else, but he actually wore a tux that somehow took five or ten years off him and transformed him into an endearingly cute young guy that was too nervous and high-strung for his own good.

"Oh dear," Dan grinned, "I guess it's time to take over my duties." Nodding to Beauvais and Jean, he reached for Vadim to touch him for a moment. A look, smile, and a murmured, "don't you go off with anyone while I'm away, Mr model …"

"Hardly. The countdown's started ..."

Dan winked and walked off, making his way through the crowds until he stood in front of Jean.

"You look bloody magnificent." Smiling, "she'll be bowled over."

Jean took Dan's arm and pulled him along to a quieter area. "I'm scared", he murmured, and he did look pale. "What the fuck am I doing here, Dan?"

"Right, then, let's have a look at what you are doing here." Looking around him, Dan saw the door to the pantry, and pulled Jean into the small, windowless room. The only light coming in through the old fashioned venting lattice in the door, once he'd closed it behind them. "Let's forget about all those people out there, aye? Just think of what you really are doing here and why you are doing it." Dan smiled, face illuminated dimly, the lattice pattern of shadow and light making his scar twist. Standing in front of Jean in the small space, hands on his shoulders. "Do you love Solange?"

"God, yes. I still feel like I have to throw up."

"That's a damn good basis to start from. Not the throwing up, though." Dan grinned. "And do you want to spend the rest of your life with her? Growing old and all that shit, through good and bad, and all that?" Leaning closer, "like Vadim and I seem to be doing, just without the tux and the white dress?"

Jean moved in and pressed close against Dan. "I just don't want to hurt her, and I ... don't deserve all this, and there's you, and fuck I can't even think clearly."

"Me?" It slipped out, before the moment of irritation and confusion was gone again. "Right, in that order, then. You won't hurt her if you love her and accept that things might not go the way you want them at all times, and that maybe you might grow bored or too comfortable, or whatever. Whenever this might happen, you have to remember the one great truth: that you love her. And I let you into a secret: whatever happens, if you shout at each other or don't talk for hours, do not ever go to bed angry. Do not ever sleep in another room when you are in the same place. And do not ever be in a huff at night. No matter how long it takes, talk it out. Solve it. I know talking is shit, and awful, and hard, and whatever, but as long as you go to bed, and even if it's at 8 AM, and you hold each other close again, falling asleep in each other's arms, then all will be well." Dan smiled and winked, leaning close enough to murmur into Jean's ear, "and I shall never tell you where I got that bit of wisdom from, just that it works, but if you tell anyone that I told you all this soppy stuff, I will kill you, and it won't be pretty." Placing a kiss at the side of Jean's neck, "as for deserving, the whole notion of deserve or not deserve is crap. Things happen. Too often shit ones, and sometimes good ones. This good thing happened to you, so grab it and keep it and fall asleep with it every night."

"I'll try. I need to make this work. All of this."

Leaning in to place a kiss on the other side of Jean's neck, "and as for me … I'll always be there, but I'm different to Solange. She is your lover and partner, I am your friend. And I'll always be your friend."

Jean looked into Dan's eyes and nodded, willing himself to relax, even though it didn't really work, but at least he made an effort.

"Right now your lover is waiting in the town hall, to become your wife." Leaning in again, this time a light kiss onto Jean's lips. "and thus I think we should leave now, because she's the best and the most important thing that ever happened to you in your life. You said so yourself."

Jean pressed Dan's arm, briefly, nodded. "Going into battle is easier", he murmured.

"You coward." Dan chuckled, then slapped one of Jean's tightly-clad buttocks. "I knew that all Frenchies were good at raising the white flag, but not at fighting." He winked and opened the door. "Now show them what a man with Russian blood can do. Aye, soldier?"

"Kill a lot of Nazis?" Jean grinned and headed out.

"That wouldn't be appreciated right now." Dan shook his head, grinning.

Chrestien had started to usher the guests towards the mayor's office, and only Beauvais, Vadim, and Pascal were there, as well as a few stragglers.

"It's five minutes on foot and the other half of the village will be there", Jean murmured. "Got the rings?"

"Of course." Dan rattled his sporran again. "Best get the entourage going, aye?" He grinned at Vadim when they approached.

"Yes." Jean still looked nervous, but not as bad as before. They left the manor and walked down the street to the centre and the mayor's office, where all the guests were. Several people with cameras, last minute checks and fixes of clothes, and somebody official came out, shook Jean's hand, and the whole crowd surged forward into the office. Some people remained outside, chattering in French, while the close friends - and not a single relative - moved forward.

Inside, Solange and another very beautiful, thin woman waited. Solange's long white dress carefully arranged, and she was surrounded by flowers, huge amounts of roses. Jean hesitated when he saw her, and she had to reach out and offer a hand to get him to move closer. When he still didn't move straight away, too much in awe, Dan gently prodded his back.

Standing to the side of Jean, Dan leaned forward to smile at Solange. All four of them remaining with their backs to the crowd that had filed in.

Everything happened in French, but it was clear enough when the official asked for something that he meant the rings, and Dan, with his rudimentary French, got the clue and took the expensive looking box out of his sporran. Opening it, he presented the elegant gold wedding bands, handing them to the mayor. Jean's voice shook, whereas Solange's voice remained steady and she just radiated love which continued to dazzle Jean, and he looked ready to bolt and possibly take her with him when he ran away - again. But Dan stood by his side, as best man and as best friend, ready to keep him from running. In the end, nothing like that happened, and to the great cheer of all around, the couple finally kissed as husband and wife. When Dan glanced behind him, he was grinning like a fool as his eyes met Vadim's, who smiled and nodded and gave a quick 'thumbs up'.

It was time, then, to sign the register, and both witnesses, the maid of honour and the best man, were signing the documents. When the bride and groom sat at a little table to sign the papers as well, the cameras were wildly flashing away.

Vadim then moved to Dan's side and took his hand, entwining their fingers. "Well, he's taken care of", Vadim murmured.

Dan smiled, squeezing those fingers in his. "Just like us, aye?"

"Well, I've been married. It's a nice feeling, actually."

Dan raised his brows. "That's sure as fuck not what I meant." A grin breaking through the mock consternation. "We're two blokes, we can't marry, and even if we could …" grimacing, but fortunately all eyes and attention were on the bride and groom. All … except perhaps one pair of eyes, but Dan had his back to the spectators. "Let's just say I wasn't made for 'marriage vows'. Besides, we are as good as married. Don't you think?" Dan chuckled.

"Then how could a piece of metal hurt you?"

" What do you mean? The rings? It's just all that exclusion crap and … and I just wasn't made for marriage. Girls marry. Women marry. I'm neither."

"The exclusivity crap is bound to work really well for Jean, hm?" Vadim cast a pointed glance towards Beauvais, who was standing rather stiffly, and listened to Pascal.

"But …" And only then did it hit Dan, following the glance and murmuring, "oh shit. He just gave his vows that he would forsake all others, didn't he?"

"Chance of a snowball in hell", murmured Vadim. "I think he'll do whatever he pleases. And it pleases him to ..." Glancing around. "Pursue other openings."

"But if he vowed it, then …" Dan shook his head, "whatever." Turning away, he walked towards the happy couple, smiling brightly, but before he could congratulate them, he was already prodded and shoved into position for photos. Endless photos. Couple, witnesses, and once again and all over.

Vadim was watching, then felt somebody move close to him, to his shoulder. He looked at the man from the corner of his eyes. Beauvais. He could have told just from the way he had drawn close.

"What are your plans after the marriage?" asked the Frenchman.

"No plans. We're on R&R. A week here, then we're out to New Zealand, take a look at the farm."

"You got some property there?"

"Dan has. Why, are you looking to invest?"

"I was planning to look at a few properties around this area." Beauvais murmured. "Good value for money, good, quiet area. I don't want to retire in the legion retirement home, and I have saved a good amount in the last years."

"Very little opportunity to spend, I assume." Vadim placed a hand on Beauvais' uniformed shoulder and turned to face him, moving close, to keep his voice low. "What are you actually asking for, Beauvais?"

"I need more time."

Beautifully ambivalent. Was that 'more time with you'? Vadim assumed it. "I'm sure Dan will be happy to oblige you with that."

"And you?"

"Me?" Vadim grinned. "Yeah, me too."

Dan was looking over the heads of the crowd, saw Vadim talk with Beauvais and noticed the hand on one uniformed shoulder. The sight made Dan grin, wondering what they were talking about. He detected a gap in the throng of well wishers the next moment, heading straight towards the couple before they were to be rushed outside to be celebrated in the village square. Wine and pastries already waiting.

"Solange," Dan smiled, stepping towards her before anyone could whisk the beauty in white silk and pearls away. "Are you going to honour the tradition of kissing the best man?"

"Oh, please." Solange smiled at him and moved forward, lace-gloved hand on his arm. Dan placed his calloused hands on her bare shoulders, a delicate touch, as he leaned in, kissing her gently on the lips, which seemed to surprise her a little, but she smiled into the kiss.

"He loves you very much," Dan murmured, "and he's worried to muck it up, but I think you might forgive him for the odd bit of muck, hm?" Smiling wistfully, "he tries, and from my point of view of a friend, he's a good man, and I am so glad that he has found happiness with you."

"I know I haven't married a saint", she said. "But a saint would be boring, don't you agree?"

"Indeed. After all, I'm everything but, and so is Vadim."

"And both of you are gorgeous together."

Letting go of her shoulders, Dan took her hand, placing another kiss on its back. "I wish you all the happiness in the world, because I am sure you'll make him very happy." With that he stepped away, the wistful smile still on his face, watching the crowd taking over. She smiled at him, but then had to answer another well-wisher, and Jean had to shake a lot of hands, too, and they joked and looked incredibly happy together.

Dan watched for a moment, then squeezed his way through the well wishers who were heading outside. Looking out for Vadim, while searching the sporran for his cigarettes and a quick swig from the pewter flask.

Vadim spotted him immediately and joined him. "What are our plans right after the marriage? Jean and Solange are off to the honeymoon. What about us?"

"Hm?" Dan had been somewhere else in his thoughts, lighting the cigarette. They stood on the stone steps that led down to the market place, which was teeming with people, enjoying themselves. Pulling in a deep first lungful of nicotine. "Haven't thought that far. Travelling round?"

"Beauvais wants to spend more time with us. I guess he isn't sore enough. We could show him how to do some stuff. Maybe he's as enthusiastic at cocksucking as he is at getting fucked. What do you think?"

"Sure, if he wants to?" Dan was somewhat distracted, concentrating on his cigarette. "I'd be the last man on earth to say no to that offer." Watching the smoke rise into the air, before casting another glance over the jolly crowd. "We could hire a caravan or something. Less conspicuous than three men in a bed, I guess."

"Good idea." Vadim looked at Dan. "What's on your mind?"

"Ah … nothing." Dan waved his hand about and exhaled smoke. "Nothing a lot of booze, good food, and merry company can't get out of my head." He suddenly grinned, groping Vadim's arse, right there in public. "Let's find our apprentice and grab some wine on the way. Can't have everybody else having a jolly except us. Besides, my kilt hasn't had any admirers yet." With that he turned and walked down the stairs, towards a stall with pastries and wine.

Not too far away, Beauvais was doing his best to get plastered. Drinking the wine like it was water and he'd just come out of Algeria. A couple of girls attempted to strike up a conversation, but he skilfully directed their attention to Pascal, who, doubtlessly was having fun. Surrounded by girls and, thought Vadim, maybe one or two that hadn't been born as girls. But as long as Pascal didn't realize that.

"Heh." Heading towards Beauvais. "Looks like Dan is up for it."

Dan sauntered close, wine in one hand, couple of pastries in the other. Raising his brows with a grin. "Does a week's tour of the region in a caravan strike your fancy?" Downing his second glass of wine, following the Lieutenant's example in getting pissed as soon as possible.

Beauvais nodded. "I could actually show you some nice areas around here. I was born not too far away." He shrugged. "I was Belgian when I joined the Legion, of course. Just in case you were going to ask."

"I wasn't going to ask, I don't actually give a shit." Dan grinned, "but since you offered the information, doesn't anyone in the Legion ever ask for a passport?"

"They know you well when you join and if they want you, they still take you in. Anybody could have placed my accent in this general area. Doesn't matter. Some rules are just there to be broken." Beauvais again seemed more reserved now, as if reminding himself that nothing about this was about bonding or sharing information.

Dan took a third glass from a tray, emptying it half-way. "Aye, I've broken a few rules myself in my life. Actually, with a mate who's a Russian Frenchman and a partner who's a Russian Brit," grinning at Vadim, "I really wouldn't give a damn if the Legion believed you were Scottish even though you didn't speak a word of English and had donned a skirt made from towels." Dan laughed.

"Ah. Now I get what you mean." Beauvais grinned.

"Why, what did you think I meant?" Dan finished his wine.

"Wasn't sure ... It's all up for negotiations, isn't it? Life is more complicated than the rules. Talking of rules ..." He looked around, very carefully. "I'm bored. You two are the most interesting guests."

"Aye, but I'm the best man. I can hardly vanish behind the next hut for a quick fuck." Dan smirked, getting hold of his fourth glass. "Unless we're off duty before the main celebrations start." Looking at Vadim, "any idea what the plans are?"

"I assume that's more food back at the castle, more drinks ... more of the same. Ah, and dancing. Unless, of course, we'd abduct the bride."

"Aha!" Dan grinned, suddenly alert. "Now that sounds like a plan, but wasn't Pascal meant to do that?"

"Pascal?" Vadim looked across where the ex-para was holding court. "He's busy."

"Well, that's true." Dan flashed a grin. "Anyone still sober enough to drive?"

"I am", said Vadim. "no problem."

"Any ideas?" Pointing at Beauvais, before fetching glass five and glass six, pushing one of them into the Lieutenant's hand. "You know the area, anything fairly decent and yet out of the way enough that it would take a while for Jean to find his bride, or - better still - not to find her, and he has to pay a hefty ransom of food and drink?" Dan winked. A prank was a prank and even better if it came with a lot of tradition.

"There are a few hotels around ... what about a bar or a restaurant? We could wine and dine her ...? Actually, I know a place that has good wine, friendly service, and is a bit out of the way."

"Aye, but would Jean figure it out?"

"Not immediately." Beauvais laughed. "He'd have to work a bit, but no doubt the friendly locals would help him. He should be alright."

"Hmmmm …" Dan mused, "that's all very well, but not particularly interesting for the bride, or is it?"

"You think getting abducted is boring?" Beauvais looked quizzically at him.

"If I was abducted by three more-or-less middle aged straight women, then taken to a restaurant to have a mediocre meal with perhaps a glass of wine, and not a chance in hell for sex or even just innuendo, yeah, I'd be bored." Dan grinned.

"That's the problem with the villages. No outrageous nightclubs. If we were anywhere near Marseilles or another civilised area, I'd know a few nice strip bars where she could have a lapdance ... All the women I brought into places like that enjoyed a lapdance."

"A lapdance, as in: a woman dancing on your woman's lap? Pretty much scantily clad?" Dan raised a brow.

"Yes. And they do enjoy it. Trust me."

"I wouldn't enjoy one." Dan shrugged, not convinced, but grinned and finished his wine. "Well, not anymore. I used to exclusively fuck women, till I was in my early thirties." He tried to get Vadim's attention with a nudge, "what a damn fine wasted opportunity, all those years."

Vadim looked at him. "You'd have been gay in the SAS, sitting in those atrociously dull barracks, wondering about the bodies under the shower. Trust me, being gay 'all my life' wasn't fun. There's always a comrade you have a crush on, always something to prove ... it's hard work."

"I guess …" Dan mused, the wine at lunchtime, without much food, was making him mellow. "While all I had to prove to myself was that I was a 'real man' by treating those girls like absolute shit and fucking them senseless while drunk as a skunk." Falling silent, snatching a glass from a table nearby, he downed half of it in one go. "I was a fucking little shit. Better make it up to one of them." And that was that, he didn't even wait for an answer. Turning, kilt swinging in the movement, he weaselled his way into the crowd and towards the bride and groom.

Vadim laughed. "I'll get the car. You help him get her out. Maybe tackle the groom or distract him?"

Beauvais nodded. "Deal." Heading after Dan while Vadim rushed to get the vehicle.

Dan was kind of circling, trying to find the right time and angle to strike, when he saw Beauvais. Sidling up to him, he grinned. "You do realise you stick out like a fucking thumb in your white uniform? So much for the stealth attack …"

"I'm not sticking out to somebody who knows and trusts that uniform. How do we do it?"

"Oh for fuck's sake, cheer up, Legionnaire. I know you're an officer, but you don't have to swallow that fucking rod." Dan grinned to take the sting out. "I was just saying that you're no good for a camouflaged stealth attack in your blinding whites. Other than that, pull that rod out your arse and relax for a few days, aye? It's good to be proud of La Legion, but chill for a while."

Beauvais nodded briskly and moved away, into the background, where he remained. He was watching, however.

Dan looked after him and sighed, shaking his head. Tipsy or not, and as sensitive as a bulldozer or not, he realised that he'd obviously pissed off the Frenchman, not having a clue what it was that kept annoying the man. He might have pondered some more, had there not been an opening in the crowd. The first chords of music were heard, when a small band of locals started playing traditional songs. Dan rushed forward, legionnaire and prissiness forgotten, and managed to be the first one in front of Solange. "Fancy a little dance, my lady?" He bowed swiftly, before taking her hands in his.

"Always", Solange cheerfully agreed and followed him. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Very much so," Dan smiled, twirling her around, albeit not very elegantly. "But most importantly, are you happy?" Steering them towards the edge of the marketplace.

"Oh yes. Who would have thought it could be like this?"

"I'm not the right one to ask." Dan chuckled, twirling them around again, almost reaching the edge, when he spotted the car with Vadim inside. "I've never been married." One more step, and he lifted her up and over a small wall, while looking around for Beauvais. The Frenchman was there, climbing the wall in an instant.

"What are you doing?"

"We're making Jean work a bit for you", said Beauvais.

Dan grinned, climbing after her, pushing the kilt down to prevent flashing the entire neighbourhood. "It's the age old tradition of kidnapping the bride." Bowing deeply as he pointed to the car, "if you'd please, Madame Leclerc?"

"Oh the poor man", she said, smiling. "Dear me. What nice abductors ..." She gathered her dress about her and got into the car.

Dan laughed as he closed the door, getting into the seat beside her, leaving Beauvais the passenger seat to navigate to the place. "He probably deserves it." Winking at her.

Vadim kicked down the gas pedal to give Jean a bit of a warning that something wasn't right - screeching tires should clue him in, and then followed Beauvais's directions. Heading onto the fast street that connected the villages in this area, while Beauvais gave directions from memory. Heading into yet another picturesque village, he ordered Vadim to park outside a similar wine bar to the one they'd got drunk in two days earlier.

Dan jumped out of the car and opened the door for Solange, holding his hand out to her. "Can't be easy to get out of this in all your finery." Dark eyes amused, he helped her out.

Solange took his hand and managed to get out of the car. "Not the most practical dress I've ever worn", she remarked, while the others got out of the car as well. "Men have it easier ..."

"That depends," Dan chuckled, offering her his arm. "Not if you have to wear certain dress uniforms, even though our legionnaire, here …" leaning closer to her, "seems to be bearing up remarkably well."

Beauvais pointed towards the bar. "They have a lot of good, local wines here."

"Sounds like a pleasant place, then, and the groom should be able to find it. Eventually." Guiding her inside, the moment they stepped through the door, the whole place fell silent. Men, a lot of old men and not a single woman, all staring at them, faces lifted from their wine glasses and their chess, cards or board games. "Bonjour," Dan smiled brightly, scraping together the remains of his French, "we abduct woman." Correcting himself, "ah, non, bride."

The mood shifted then. Maybe it was the French, maybe it was the trio of a stunning bride, a man in a skirt, somebody in a very expensive suit all topped off with an officer of the Legion. A number of old guys invited them over to their table, and Beauvais went to order some wine. Solange wrapped one after the other of the local men around each of her fingers when she sat down and said something in French, which was doubtlessly lovely and charming.

Within half an hour, everyone in that place was merry with wine and chatter. Dan understood a few scraps here and there and managed to join in on occasion - after he'd explained with Solange's help that he wasn't wearing a skirt but was a true Scotsman, and that Vadim and he were from Britain, but not English - which pleased the guys very much. Some of the old geezers scrabbled some instruments together, and soon the bar was filled with cheerful music, not dissimilar to the market place.

Time passed quickly as they were having fun, each one of the locals daring a little dance with the lovely bride, until, finally, two hours later, the door opened again and Jean appeared, looking somewhat frantic, but immediately relaxed when he found his prize. "You bastard", he said to Beauvais, who shook his head and pointed at Dan. "His idea."

Dan stood in the middle of the room, conversing with a couple of men who were showing him how to play boule, when he looked up and shrugged, grinning. "Me? I am innocent. It was his idea." Pointing to Vadim.

Vadim raised his hands. "Guilty as charged. What are you going to do about it?"

"My rescuer!", said Solange and rushed into Jean's arms. Who stared at Vadim, but could simply not resist his wife, either.

"I need her to cut up the cake ..." Jean muttered darkly.

"And I guess you'd rather cut up Vadim." Dan laughed. "I'm afraid we haven't got time for that, even though Solange suffered terribly. Didn't you?" he winked at her.

Solange nodded cheerfully, which made Jean laugh, too. "The places I looked for you", he murmured and kissed her neck. "Come. I should have fitted you with a collar, my dear."

Dan suddenly coughed and lit himself another cigarette before finishing of his umpteenth wine. "Thank you for hospitality." He called into the round with his broken French, and a cheer for the bride and groom were heard, as they all left the bar, heading back to the main festivities. By now Dan had had a lot of wine and very little food, but was bravely soldiering on.

Jean kept Solange in his car, and they drove in both vehicles back to the manor, where there was a vast amount of food and much more alcohol and everybody seemed to have a great time. The reappearance of the bride was celebrated with a cheer, and Jean looked like he couldn't wait to carry her upstairs, but instead, they cut up the cake together and more photos were made. Then it was time for the speeches, and Dan managed to keep his best man speech short and sweet, hardly stumbling over words in his inebriated stage, and making the whole crowd laugh, with Jean occasionally glaring at him when the joke was - predictably - on his side. After a lot more toasting and good wishes, the music started once more and the party went on.

Beauvais went back to drinking, something he had hardly stopped with since after the ceremony, while Dan indulged in the same, but only after stuffing himself with food. He found himself standing with a plate in one hand and a glass in another, suddenly surrounded by a bunch of girls who were giggling about his outfit, and if he really didn't wear anything underneath. Dan being Dan, he grinned at Vadim and ignored a strange and altogether unfriendly look from Beauvais, and challenged them to check for themselves … which they did. To their great merriment and his lack of bother, especially when Vadim stepped close and placed a possessive hand on his hip, which told the gaggle of models a lot more than Dan had and made them giggle even louder.

Pascal seemed to enjoy himself with a similar ilk, the set-up with the girl had worked really well with him and he seemed very popular with the ladies - whether that was because of his attractiveness or because he was the only single, straight and friendly guy in the room was everybody's guess. The party went on for many hours. A buffet was brought, with hot and cold delicacies, and a different band played music, to the great joy of most who enjoyed to dance, which was mainly the fashion crowd. Jean and Solange opened with the first dance, and then it was a free for all, but Dan preferred to stick to food and booze, and mainly the latter.

Eventually the place became less crowded, late at night, when some people started to head home, and only the closer friends were still around. Vadim found himself sit mellow near the fireplace, staring into the fire and half-listening to the melodic French, feeling at peace, content and tired.

Dan was at the other end of the large room, laughing with a couple of girls who had taken him under his wings, while he was steadily drinking and enjoying himself, now and then glancing over to bride and groom, but never interfering with the fun and the joy, and never walking across.

Finally, it was time for Jean and Solange to retire. Under great cheer of the remaining guests, Solange threw her bouquet, and Dan had been refilling his glass, and despite all logic and care, was hit with the bouquet, catching the flowers by reflex, under great laughter and perplexed surprise on his part. Playing along, though, he laughed and joked, and waved the happy couple good night, before walking along the remains of the buffet to check out the desserts.

Vadim finally claimed one of the big couches for himself. He shed the jacket, kicked off the shoes and stretched out, his feet pointing towards the fire, arms crossed on his chest, and, having slept too little recently, closed his eyes and drifted off.

Beauvais cast a glance at Vadim resting and headed over to the buffet. He wasn't completely steady on his feet anymore.

"Seems we're the only ones left." Dan grinned, pouring himself a large measure of whisky, to round off the night.

"L...last men standing", Beauvais murmured, reaching for the bottle once Dan had put it down, then poured some into his wine glass and emptied that, too.

Dan grinned, took the bottle back, filling his own glass to the brim after he'd. "And what happens now?"

Beauvais looked at him. "Maybe lure you outside and ... cut you to size. Don't want to wake your friend."

"Huh?" Whisky untouched, Dan stared at the legionnaire. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Simple. You two together against me means I'm hopeless. You against me, that's different."

Pouring some of the whisky down his throat, Dan ignored the burn. "What the fuck's the against about? You think I'm some enemy?" Not quite steady on his feet, he leaned against the table.

Beauvais gave a quick glance around. "I'm outside. If you have any balls, you follow me." He turned on his heel, every inch the legionnaire who'd learned the hard way not to wreck bars off-duty.

"You fucking stupid arsehole." Dan growled, following the Lieutenant immediately. Didn't have a clue what the hell was up and why the fuck that man was behaving like an irrational bastard. "What the fuck's your fucking problem?" Pushing the door open, he stepped into the night air.

He was greeted right away with a fist. Beauvais obviously didn't believe in fair and proper duels - the moment Dan was out of the way of the other guests and things that could be broken, he gave a straight punch towards Dan's face.

"Shit!" That was the last thing that Dan had expected, and the fist hit him full on. Snapping his head back, pain exploded behind his eyes and in his nose, and he staggered backwards, not as steady on his feet with all the booze. "You fucking bastard!" Hissed, and that was it. Throwing himself towards the smaller man, Dan used a feint at the last moment, twisting his body, and his shoulder rammed into Beauvais.

Beauvais reeled back, then hit the ground which knocked the air from his lungs, but he got another two punches in, into Dan's short ribs, knowing he was at a disadvantage, but determined to sell himself as dearly as possible.

Dan groaned, but his heavier body crashed onto Beauvais's, and nothing the other could do to stop the motion. Alcohol holding the worst back, and dulling the pain. Defence and attack slowed down, and yet reflexes still functioned and Dan got to his knees the next moment, straddling the Lieutenant. Blood running from his nose onto the pristine white uniform. He shook his head, wiped the worst away with the back of his hand, before snarling, "what the fuck is your fucking problem?" Angry, hurting, damned pissed off and at a total loss at what the hell was going on.

Beauvais was seething with rage, expecting clearly to be punched and kicked, and took hold of Dan's jacket to pull him off, bucking underneath to free himself. "Get off me! Putain!"

"Putain? Fucking what?" Dan understood damn well. He'd never been called a whore before, and wasn't going to take it. Punching Beauvais' arm, forcing him to lose the grip on his jacket, while grinding down onto the Frenchman's hips and groin, to keep him from bucking up. "You fucking arsehole, you didn't complain when I fucked you!"

The movement and the words together did it. Beauvais exploded with rage, the smaller man going all out berserk, and displaying surprising strength and coordination despite his state. He bucked up, throwing the weight off, then hurled himself on top of Dan, whose reactions were slowed by the booze and he had simply not expected this outrage. Knees, fists, head, all weapons that Beauvais brought to bear, punching Dan's face and chest, whatever he could reach, face showing nothing but fury.

When pain exploded once more, unexpected, unbidden, Dan flew into anger himself. Pissed off beyond measure at this irrational man, and the whole goddamned situation that made no fucking sense - except for the pain. If he could only stop that French bastard to pummel him like a berserker, he might find out what the fuck was going on. Dan lifted up to get leverage, twisted, bucked upwards, got caught in the kilt. Bare arse grinding into the grass, caught under the other man's mad thrashing. But he fought, furious enough, fists hitting Beauvais's face. Faster, harder, without holding back. He grunted, breathless, satisfied when the Lieutenant let out a groan. Hitting Beauvais's jaw hard, giving him enough time to take hold of the legs and throw his whole body weight to the side, taking the legionnaire with him, and rolling on top.

Beauvais pushed, bucked, fighting and channelling anger into every motion. Anger that was made worse because - despite the pain and the fight - he was hard, and if there was one thing he didn't want, it was Dan to notice it. This was a fight, and he hated the man, had been humiliated enough already. He wouldn't bear another humiliation. "Get the fuck off me!" he shouted in French, looking around frantically for a weapon or just a large enough stone, shielding his face with one elbow.

"Why?" Dan shouted back, grabbing the front of Beauvais's uniform, splattered with his blood, and he spit out another mouthful. "What the fuck is your fucking problem?" Lifting the slighter man's chest up from the ground, shaking him. Dan moved back onto his haunches, kneeling once more atop Beauvais, bare groin grinding down. Pushing, harder, and shit it felt damn good. The pain, adrenaline, and the whole goddamned anger, and it all came crashing back to Dan: the fights with Vadim, how they'd almost killed each other many times, the hatred and greed, the heat and lust, and he thrust once more, grinding purposefully into the man beneath, because it felt so fucking good.

Beauvais stared at him, hands had formed fists, the touch going through him with an intensity that made him nauseous, or dizzy, or was just too fucking much. "I'm done being treated like shit!" he hissed. "The whole point of getting a commission, you bastard!"

"What?" Dan stilled, groin on groin, but no movement, and he let go of the Lieutenant, dropping him back down to the ground. Breathless, voice forced. "You fucking think I treat you like shit? Are you out of your mind?" Leaning forward, giving himself a dangerous opening when both his hands came down on each side of Beauvais' head, but Dan didn't care, too shocked at those words. And whatever Beauvais might have said was swallowed when Dan exposed himself like that. Body language far easier to read than verbal clues.

"What the fuck makes you think that? Why the fuck would I do that in the fucking first place?" Dan spat out a last mouthful of blood, this time into the grass, "it's just the way I fucking am, or you think I don't bloody respect you? You think I would have touched you if I didn't?" Exasperated, but most of all, goddamned horny, and nothing could change that.

"Do you ever listen to yourself?" Beauvais knew he sounded weak, and to distract, he reached up to touch his face and looked at his hand, checking for blood.

"Why? You think I'm a fucking peasant who talks like scum? Damn right. Get over it. I didn't operate for umpteen fucking years on my own with nothing but bloody Mujas in goddamned Afghanistan for fucking nothing." Dan growled, baring his bloodied teeth.

Beauvais glanced down his body, and Dan's, which was more visibly aroused beneath the kilt. "Shit. Total mess. All of it. Fuck." Wanting, and unable to want, reluctance in his face, but at the same time, he shifted to press against Dan. The humiliation burning like acid, but the need was greater.

Dan lowered further down, face to face, hard cock pressing against trapped one, which made Beauvais go rigid, and, almost against his will, move his legs just to get more from it. "You don't want this, do you?" Damn, and it was all so obvious all of a sudden, why the hell hadn't he realised it before? "You don't fucking want to be like this. You fucking hate it, aye? And so you fucking hate me."

"No. Yes. Fuck!"

Down, further down, Dan could kiss if he wanted - or dared. "Tough shit, Lieutenant, I've been there, fought it, and I know that you can't win." Voice low, the calm before the storm, "you have to accept it. So, you're gay. Fucking deal with it. You made it to officer, in the foreign legion, that means you're fucking tough, so you can bloody well deal with being gay!"

Beauvais was seething with anger, but at the same time, he needed. The pain - again - just spiking the lust until he didn't know what he wanted and whether he could want this. His body just wanted release, part of him wanted to kill that man for what he'd done to him and was still doing, another part wanted to touch and kiss, but that would have given the other an unforgivable opening. All his life he'd had everything under control, and it was this bastard who took it all away and brought him face to face with himself. It felt like breaking inside.

Dan stared at him, the face, twitching muscles, the hatred and need, and the impossible fight this man tried to win and was destined to lose. He suddenly knew. Knew, as well, that it was crazy, faced with that rage, lust and doubtlessly pain. "You want to fuck me?" Low voice, "Do you, Lieutenant?"

Beauvais cursed again, caught out like that, but he nodded. "Yes. Get … off me." Less angry now, still confused and the alcohol blurred everything, but that was what he wanted. Even if it was a trick, even if Dan only lured him away further, it was a risk he'd take.

Dan got up, knees nearly buckling, he nodded, wiping the last blood from his face. Didn't say anything, just took off into the direction of the outhouse. He noticed Beauvais picking up his kepi, before following. Despite the booze and the lust, Dan was fully aware how fucking crazy it was to give himself over into the hands of that raging madman, who didn't have a clue what to do and was most likely to finish off with his cock what his fists hadn't managed. But fuck, he was horny, and it seemed like a good idea a minute ago.

The room was untouched - Jean had been too busy during the day to stow anything away. That included the booze, candles, lube, condoms. Beauvais closed the door behind them, and stood there, becoming aware of the bruises, his throbbing jaw that hurt, and wanting somebody he didn't like - not that that had ever been a problem with women. He still moved in, hands on Dan's chest, took the jacket off him, didn't actually know how to do all this. Part of him just wanted to push up the kilt and fuck him, but it was far more complicated than that. It would have been easier in the fight, or just after, now that his thoughts returned he felt out of his depth.

Dan shrugged out of the jacket, unbuttoned the waistcoat, not bothering to take off anything else. Would take too much time, and he might regret that insane offer otherwise. Taking a couple of steps back, he lowered down onto the airbed with a grunt. Fuck, he ached, but all that was forgotten when he lay on his back, knees bent, legs falling open, pushing the kilt out of the way. "Putain, eh?" He snorted, mocking, still half-hard.

Beauvais swallowed, then joined Dan on the bed. All he took off was the kepi when he got between Dan's legs. Remembering how Dan had done it last night, he was surprised the other had meant what he'd said. Staring at him, brow furrowed with thought and concentration, he reached for the lube, uncapped it, squirted some into his hand, and then rubbed it between Dan's cheeks. Very different. Male. Hairy, and he was about to do this.

Dan remained silent, nothing but a torch on the floor that gave light. Breathless, still, from the fight or the apprehension. Slipping his hands under his knees, Dan pushed his legs up to his chest. Watching Beauvais's face as he opened and bared himself, with the same irreverence and macho attitude, as he'd been fighting.

Beauvais opened his trousers, pushed them down, just enough, and went for a condom pack. Rolling the thing down, he lubed himself up, not thinking about what he was about to do, then, taking hold of Dan's leg with one hand, he guided himself closer and to the point. Pushing in, slowly, mostly to make sure he didn't slip in his alcohol-dazed brain, but surprising Dan with the slowness, who'd expected an angry assault.

Beauvais moved deeper, slow but inevitable. The heat. Tightness. All the good things, and Dan let out a groan, expelling a breath he had held when bracing himself. Booze made it easier, and the ache of being stretched was nothing compared to the bruises. He flashed a grin, pushing against the invading cock, concentrating on relaxing.

Beauvais got in all the way, and the surrounding strength took his breath away. The anger was gone, this man just gave back, all of it, with no anger about him. No humiliation, he just did it that easily. Nothing about 'stupid cunt' or 'asshole' or 'pull the stick from your ass'. That had grated, because ever since that sex Dan had gone on about how he considered him an asshole. "How …?" Do you like it, he wanted to ask, because it was clear as day that Dan did like it.

"What?" Dan's voice was husky and he grinned again. Damn, getting fucked while being pissed after a crazy fight was a new experience, and shit, he enjoyed it. Perhaps too much. Letting go of one leg, he placed it on the Lieutenant's shoulder, and Beauvais reached up to move the other and both into the right spot. Dan's hands were now free, which reached and pulled Beauvais closer, firmly gripping his hips, and the Frenchman moved in, still trying to find the best angle. "Expected …" Dan groaned out when he moved. Pushing upwards, cock fully hard again, "… you'd just …" arching up with a sound that came from somewhere deep, " … thrust in … too fucking ... angry, but damn …" he grinned, hands increasing their firm grip, urging the legionnaire on, "this is good."

Beauvais grinned, didn't quite get his own emotions. From anger to this, instead thrust in deep, deliberate strokes - drunk enough to last a while, and he enjoyed taking it slow and intense. A man a completely different ball game. The scent, for example, but even more the strength, and Dan's bruised face that began to darken where it wasn't shaded with blood made him want to take it slow. A way to apologize, but also to fully taste the strange feelings. "Can do that, too. Like you did … me."

Dan dropped one hand to his cock, stroking himself. Fuck, this was good, all of it, the whole insane package. "Did it because …" suddenly pulling in a hissing breath and he arched up, shuddering, when the angle was just right, "that's what you wanted." Voice and breath getting more erratic, stroking himself with growing intensity. "You just do … what you want. I'm fine." Another thrust that hit everything right, leaving him shuddering once more, "better than fine. Shit."

Beauvais grinned, loving how Dan clenched around him every time he did it like that, and kept the angle, long thrusts alternating with two short ones. He loved every moment of it, and Dan touching himself was another detail that made this too damn good. Keeping himself under control, but moving all the time, thrusting, expending more focus than he'd ever on a woman - any woman. They'd just been whores and he had needed to get off. This now opened a whole new world, and he didn't want to be done with it yet.

Dan finally sped up stroking himself when he couldn't bear the steady, excruciating climb any longer. Shirt sweat drenched, breath coming loud, erratic and fast, he got himself higher, and over the top. Arching up, all muscles clenching, cumming with an uncontrolled groan, all over himself, his hands, the kilt, his shirt.

The tightness was too much to bear, and Beauvais slammed in a few more times, cumming as well, not long after Dan, who simply collapsed when Beauvais lowered the legs and pulled out. Getting rid of the condom, first and foremost, he stowed his cock away, back into the uniform trousers. He lay down, within arm's reach of Dan, catching his breath, but even more to rest and enjoy the comedown.

Lying sprawled, breathing, Dan was doing absolutely nothing for a long time. Booze and sex, a heady mix, especially with the aggression and pain thrown in. He finally turned his head, but when he tried to look at Beauvais, he realised his right eye was starting to swell up. "I hope you're at least as bruised as I am." Dan grinned, voice reflecting how sated he was.

Beauvais again touched his jaw. "The teeth are all still there." Wiping a hand over his face and inhaling deeply, content. "Not bad for a punch up."

Dan chuckled, then groaned, deep and heartfelt. "I am getting too old for this shit. Couldn't we just have fucked without the punch-up first?"