Jake and The Kid, NC17 Slash, Drama Tony Edwards/OMC
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FRANCE-October-1944. “Captain Winters,” called a young corporal as he stepped through the General’s door. “Right here,” replied 1st Lieutenant Nicholas Winters. Corporal Smithy nodded cordially to the officer. “The General will see you now.” Winters stood, straightened his uniform, placed his cap upon his dark head and strode, with confidence, into the General’s office. “Nicholas William Winters, reporting for duty, sir.” General William Winters, who had been reading the young officer’s file, looked up and greeted one of West Point’s finest graduates. “At ease, soldier.” General Winters gestured towards a large chair in front of his desk. Winters sat down and removed his hat. He smiled at the sixty-something man. “How was your leave?” inquired the General. “Did you break any hearts when you were stateside?” The older man laughed, softly. “Relaxing,” replied Nick immediately. “And no, I didn’t meet any girls back home. Mother sends her love to you, Dad.” The General stood and poured two drinks sans ice; as he handed one to his son, he said, “No one caught your eye at all?” “Uhhh…no.” Nicholas could never tell his parents that no girl, no matter how beautiful, would ever, ‘catch his eye.’ “Did mother write you a letter or something?” Nick accepted the drink and took a sip. General Winters laughed again and sat in his chair. “She complained in her last letter that she lacked a daughter in-law and grandchildren.” He flipped up the top of a plain wooden box and pulled out a fat cigar, not bothering to offer one to the man before him. Nick shook his head; what did mother expect? He was only twenty-five. He was modeling his life after his father's: A career army man, William Winters had married late in life, to a much younger woman, and had fathered two children even later - Nicholas and his younger sister. Nick thought that his mother could at least have waited a year or two before complaining. William had seen his son’s potential early on, and it was due to him that Nick had graduated with honours from West Point. When war had broken out in Europe in 1938, Nicholas Winters was one of the first soldiers to go. He had signed up for another tour in early 1942, so he had been sent home for two months of R & R and had just now returned to France, refreshed and ready to face the war again. After a few more minutes of small talk, the General got around to business. He picked up the papers before him, and, after a second read through, he handed them to his son. “You’re to report to the Suffolk base in England. Colonel Winston is the CO of the base. You’ll take command of a platoon and lead them in their training as paratroopers.” Nick nodded as he accepted his new orders. “There’s a big push to drive the Krauts back to the Fatherland. The upcoming blitz will be a joint operation between the allied forces. Canada, Britain and the U.S will provide the majority of troops. Colonel Winston will brief you more in-depth as to your role in the encounter. You are to depart on the first plane out, but before you go, I want you to deliver these papers to a Lieutenant Anthony Edwards; he’s a newly promoted medic, and Headquarters has transferred him to your platoon.” The General handed Nick the file of Tony Edwards, giving the soldier a few minutes to peruse it. As soon as Nick saw the second lieutenant’s photo, he was enveloped with a strong sense that he had seen this soldier before. As the déjà vu rushed through him, he felt a familiar pull in his loins. He quickly flipped the page and continued reading the typed print. Lt. Edward’s personal statistics read like a nocturnal emission; twenty-three, six feet tall, green eyes and brown hair. The younger soldier studied the accompanying photo closely. The black and white photograph certainly flattered the handsome lieutenant; who was obviously very photogenic. In the picture, Edwards was wearing his dress uniform; it was his graduation photo from officer training, and Nick could see a soft spray of freckles across the bridge of the soldier’s delicate nose, making the man seem younger than his twenty-three years. The lieutenant’s background was the complete opposite of Nick’s silver spoon upbringing. Lt. Edwards had been born into humble, although by no means poor beginnings. Anthony ‘Tony’ Marcus Edwards had shone at many things, but in particular, baseball. A star pitcher with his high school team, Tony had attended his first year of university on a baseball scholarship -- the only way a young man from a small town would be able to attend such an expensive institution. Once there, the handsome young student had excelled at the pre-med program and managed to bring home a baseball championship to the Ivy League University for the first time ever, but fate had intervened. Just as he was about to begin his second year of studies, army recruiters came to the campus, and Tony was one of the first to sign up, selflessly putting the future of his country before his own. Now, finished with basic training, the newly commissioned medic was ready for combat. Nick noted that the young soldier had turned twenty-three only a few weeks earlier. “How did Lt. Edwards make rank so quickly?” Nick asked, curious. “That is one smart boy.” The General drained the last of his alcohol and set the tumbler down. “His high school and college transcripts place him in the top three percent of his class. The army needs young, smart and energetic soldiers like him…” “You sound like a recruiter, dad….” said Nick, interrupting his father. “That I do; I suppose it comes from making my life in the army. But still, he’s got brains and plenty of them. With his medical training, your battle smarts, throw in a little luck, you and most of your platoon should come out the other end of this coming battle alive, and that is all that counts, son.” Nick nodded. His father was worried for him and had decided that the army’s brightest new soldier would be the one to help him preserve his life, and those of his men. Nick looked at the medic’s photo one more time, then he closed the file and put it on the desk. Well, he could live with that. Nick was ready to die for his country if needed, but he really didn’t want to. 2nd Lt. Tony Edwards would, if nothing else, provide a pleasing distraction for the Captain. The medic was gorgeous, after all, and there was no mention of a wife, fiancé or girlfriend in his dossier. One never knew what could happen, mused Nick. “Lieutenant Edwards will accompany you to England and is assigned as the medic in charge. You’re fortunate to go into combat with three field doctors, so take good care of them.” “Yes, I will.” Nick’s reverie was broken; he stood and put his hat back on. “I’ll let the Lieutenant know his orders.” The Captain picked up Edwards’ papers. “Ask my aide for a folder for those on the way out; he has your itinerary too.” The General stood and went around the desk. He embraced his son for what could possibly be the last time. “Watch yourself, Nicholas, and take care of your men.” “I will dad,” promised Nick, extracting himself from his father’s secure arms.
“Excuse me, private, I’m looking for Lieutenant Edwards.” Nick was at the officer’s barracks. The young private was an aide to the four lieutenants who bunked in the large quarters. “He’s in the showers, sir.” The private that Nick had spoken to was busy tidying up a small desk near the door of the large tent. “You’re welcome to wait for him, sir.” The soldier pointed to the Lieutenant’s corner of the tent. “That’s his bunk, over there.” “Thank-you, private.” Nick smiled warmly at the young man and crossed the floor to where a wooden chair at the back of the tent rested in the heavy shadows. He sat in the chair, prepared to wait for Tony. “Uh…Sir?” “Yes?” Nick flipped open the file he had been carrying; in it were Tony’s travel orders. “May I be dismissed? I was just finishing a report for Lt. Edwards, then I’m off duty until oh-eight-hundred tomorrow.” Winters smiled, “Of course. Carry on, soldier. I’ll be fine.” “Thank-you, sir.” The young private was glad he didn’t have to stay and entertain the Captain. There was an afternoon showing of a Rita Hayworth movie starting in fifteen minutes in the mess hall, and the private didn’t want to miss getting a seat for it. Once the young soldier had left, Nick stood up and went over to the desk. The light was atrocious in the dimly lit tent. He re-read the orders, then plucked up the picture in the folder - a photo he had pilfered from the General’s file when his aide’s back was turned. He pocketed the snapshot then closed the file, leaving it on the desk. Crossing over, back to the chair, Nick made himself as comfortable as he could. As he sat in silence, he went over the contents of the lieutenant’s file in his mind. Lieutenant Edwards’ record was exemplary. The young man had excelled every step of the way in his rise up the military ranks. Yet, the young soldier had made no enemies in his climb. In fact, the opposite could be said for the baby-faced man. All he had in his files were commendations, praising Edwards for his compassion toward his brothers in arms. His consideration and understanding were what made Edwards such a fine medic. Tony’s files went on to state that he had done one full year of pre-med studies but had dropped out when he was accepted into the army. The lieutenant had come to France only six weeks ago, and since then he’d been helping in the army hospital, learning more about field medicine than he could ever hope to learn in a stateside facility. For the whole duration, Tony had been waiting for his orders, making it clear to his superiors that he was ready for battle, and now, those orders had finally come. 2nd Lieutenant Anthony Marcus Edwards, was about to embark on a tour of combat. ‘Jesus Christ,’ thought Nick. ‘Am I leading this handsome, fresh-faced kid to his death?’ The captain shook the thought away; he was in no way responsible for the ‘kid,’ as Nick had already started to think of him. Picturing the 2nd Lieutenant’s beautiful face, all Nick could do was promise himself to try and protect him in the field. Pushing aside gruesome thoughts of war, Winters once again brought Edwards’ bright smile to the fore. Tony Edwards was a very attractive package; he was just Nick’s type, tall, dark and brainy. Winters desired a companion; someone to share the rewards of peace with. That’s all he really wanted, but the circumstances-war, in a foreign country-were all wrong. Hell, even stateside and in a time of harmony, the circumstances would never be right. The world was not ready for two men to love each other. Despite that depressing thought, Nick considered the bright side. As he had noticed earlier, in his father’s office, there was no mention in the Lieutenant’s file of a wife, fiancé or girlfriend. Nicholas did not want to deceive himself into thinking that Lt. Edwards thought like him and was attracted to men. The odds of that happening were astronomical, although he could still hope. As the captain mused about the Lieutenant, the door to the tent opened.
Tony whistled softly to himself, refreshed from his overly hot shower and unaware of a visitor in the room. His eyes did not adjust to the tent until he had crossed the short distance to his bunk. Exchanging the whistle for a melodic hum, the towel was stripped off and tossed onto the small cot. Winters sat up straight and stared, wide eyed, at the soldier’s bare backside. The Lieutenant’s ass was a uniform pale white colour and looked incredibly tight. His buttocks were firm and round and completely flawless, neither pimple nor stray hair marred the perfect surface. Nick’s cock jerked to life even as he cleared his throat, making his presence known. Tony heard the noise - he’d thought that he was alone - and whirled around, eyes wide with surprise. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded. Suddenly realizing that he was naked, he reached down and snatched up the semi-dry towel, wrapping it efficiently around his waist. Slightly embarrassed, Nick stood up. “My apologies, Lieutenant. Private Aames let me in. I’m Captain Winters… ” He extended his hand. “Nicholas Winters.” Tony accepted the other man’s hand and made an attempt to compose himself. As soon as their palms touched, Tony felt as if the two of them had known each other before, although he knew they couldn’t have; he would have remembered meeting such an attractive man. He fought back the eerie feeling that he’d already met his superior and then tried to clear his mind of other, even more dangerous thoughts - such as the fact that he found the Captain attractive. “Captain, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” started Tony. Nick interrupted, “No. It’s I who should apologize, I’m the one invading your privacy.” He smiled and, unaware that he was doing so, swept his cool blue eyes over the lieutenant’s bare chest. Tony noticed what the Captain had done, and it made him wonder. There had been a few occasions in the past where a man had looked at him that way. Each time, it had meant that they were interested in him sexually. Tony blushed involuntarily, and goose bumps rose in recognition of the Captain’s questing gaze. He liked men too, but in the army, surrounded by ‘normal’ men, Tony knew better than to act on his urges. It didn’t matter that there was absolutely no one stationed at the base that even remotely caught Tony’s eye. Good thing too, because making the wrong assumption could get a person killed. This time however, he did not think that he was receiving the wrong message from the handsome Captain. He made a quick assessment of the man, something his medical training had made him good at. Tony liked what he saw; Nicholas Winters was tall, six feet at least. His icy blue eyes went incredibly well with his short, gingery-brown hair. An adorable little, colourless mole graced his right cheek; Tony had noticed it immediately. He slowly released the Captain’s right hand. The nervous butterfly flutterings in his stomach made him feel almost queasy, but he had to do something. So after they had shaken hands for the accepted amount of time, as he let go, Tony, in a rare, bold move, gave the other man’s hand a tiny, almost imperceptible squeeze. Under normal circumstances, a regular man - a heterosexual man - would not have noticed it, but because Captain Winters wasn’t heterosexual, he had felt it immediately and unconsciously responded with pressure from his own palm. Tony flashed the Captain a brilliant grin, then he dropped his hand. “Why don’t you get dressed, Lieu….” “Call me Tony.” “All right, Tony. You get back into uniform, and I’ll meet you in the mess tent. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee and explain to you what’s going on after lunch. “Certainly Capt…” “Nick is fine…” “All right. I’ll meet you in the mess hall in fifteen minutes, Nick.” Nicholas nodded, turned and walked to the door picking up the file containing the travel orders on his way by the desk. When he reached the flimsy wooden door, he couldn’t help but to turn around and look. To his pleasure, the gorgeous young lieutenant was watching him walk away.
SOMEWHERE OVER THE ENGLISH CHANNELL: “Christ, it’s cold in here,” complained Tony, pulling the threadbare blanket up further beneath his chin. “How long before we land?” Another shiver racked his large body. “Not for ninety minutes.” Nick replied, yelling to be heard over the roar of the behemoth plane’s engines. “Here, get in. I’m freezing too.” Nick flipped back his blanket and invited Tony under. “Two blankets are better than one,” reasoned the captain. Another chill ran up Tony’s spine, convincing him that body heat was what was needed. He scooted under the captain’s coverings and pulled his over the two of them. The men sat close, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, each acutely aware of the other beside him. So close, yet unable to look each other in the eyes. “How you two doing back there?” The co-pilot hung his head out of the cockpit and shouted to the huddling men. “Fucking freezing!” yelled Tony. The co-pilot laughed heartily and, before ducking back into the cockpit, said, “Cuddle close, boys, body heat will keep you warm, until we get there,” knowing full well that he and his pilot had the benefit of the engines and heaters keeping them nicely toasted. The co-pilot slammed the metal partition shut to keep the warmth inside the cockpit. “Why are fly boys such assholes?” asked Tony, his question momentarily cut off in the middle by a large yawn. “It’s part of the pre-requisite. Do you know why pilots are like seagulls?” asked Nick, casually, Tony shook his head no, and then Nick finished the joke. “Because they fly low and shit all over everybody while in the air.” Nick smiled and rocked sideways, knocking shoulders with his companion and offering him an amused wink when the grin was returned. Lifting his left arm up, Nick rested it behind Tony’s head on the back of the padded seats they were sitting on . “Go ahead and fall asleep.” “Na…I’m not really tired anymore.” declared Tony. He yawned again, and without realizing it, he shut his eyes and fell asleep.
“Tony, wake up, we’re landing.” Nick gently shook the lieutenant. “Huh? What?” Tony came awake at the movement. “I said, we’re going to be landing soon.” Nick reluctantly withdrew the arm that he had wrapped around his companion’s broad shoulders. As if to confirm Nick’s announcement, the steel door separating the cockpit from the rest of the plane slid open and the jovial co-pilot leaned out and announced, “Fifteen minutes to the ground, boys.” Then he pulled himself back in and slammed the door shut, lest he let out any of his precious heat. As Tony woke up, blinking away the sleepiness, he realized that he had his arm across Nick’s waist and slowly pulled it away. He smiled up at the captain, his white teeth visible in the dim green lighting. Tony eased himself up, so that he was sitting again. He was still close to the Captain but was no longer ‘cuddling’ him. “Did you sleep at all?” he asked, picking at the crust in the corner of his eye. Nick shook his head and grinned. “No. I hate flying. I had to stay awake and keep an eye on those pilots.” What Nick didn’t say was how he had passed the time while flying. That as the young Lieutenant slept, he had studied him. It was strange, but the lieutenant, a virtual stranger, had felt good in his arms; too good. It had been a very long time since he had held another man so close, and Nick had been comforted by the sensation. He was attracted to the medic, no doubt about it, and Nick had spent the last hour and a half wondering how the next two years were going to go. If his instincts were right, then the handsome Lieutenant Tony Edwards was interested in him too. The question was how to break the ice and go from merely flirting to acting on their feelings? That was a question Nick planned on finding the answer to before the B52 landed. “I should thank you for keeping me from freezing to death,” Tony said. “I guess I owe you one.” “That’s one IOU I’ll make an effort to collect on.” Nick said, turning to face Tony’s profile. “Is now a good time?” His voice was husky with ardour. “Sure.” Tony replied, turning and meeting the handsome brunet’s gaze directly. He studied Nick’s eyes; they were such a beautiful shade of light blue mixed with soft grey flecks. “What do you want in return?” Tony whispered, so low that Nick had to strain to hear him. “Can I kiss you?” Nick asked, searching Tony’s deep green eyes for permission. Tony returned the penetrating look. The word ‘honest’ popped into his mind as he studied the other man’s gaze. The captain’s face was very expressive, and it seemed that his light eyes accented the emotions that he was feeling. “Yes…” Tony said, softly, barely getting it out before Nick’s lips were on his own. Nick pulled Tony to his chest and squeezed him while they kissed. Somehow, the act felt familiar to both men, but the feeling passed when Tony’s tongue darted out, and for the very first time in his life, Nick opened his mouth to accept his comrade’s offering. 30 seconds into the lust filled kiss, low air turbulence rocked the large plane, and a sudden drop in the air caused the two soldiers to come apart abruptly, Nick having accidentally bitten Tony’s tongue in the turbulence. Both men laughed softly. A few seconds after the men had been so rudely separated, the co-pilot slid the door back and, yelling, he asked, “You two all right? We’re almost down; a low level storm is hammering the base right now!” Nick smiled at Tony then turned to the pilot and said, “We’re good.” “Yeah,” agreed Tony, turning to face the man, too, tasting blood in his mouth. “We’re good.”
ENGLAND: “D-o-o-o-c!” Tony heard his nickname on the wind; it came from somewhere behind him on the obstacle course. He stopped, and several soldiers - running all out with full packs on their backs- jostled him as they skirted by, trying to avoid a person to person collision. He got out of the line of fire and jogged to the side of the course, out of the way. This time he heard, “Hey, Lieutenant Edwards, we need you.” Tony turned and loped back down the course. About thirty feet away, he stopped in front of a downed soldier. “I got it from here, Sergeant O’Reilly.” Tony squatted down and hoisted off his heavy pack. “You’re in good hands, kid.” O’Reilly said, gently, to a young private. He turned and spoke to Tony as he pulled on his pack. “I’ve gotta' get going, Lieutenant, I think Private Gentry here has sprained his ankle.” With that, he settled his load then turned and ran off, up the hill. “Let’s have a look at your ankle.” Tony said to the young soldier, untying the army boot. As he examined the hurt private, a harsh voice sounded from behind him. “Lieutenant Edwards!” ‘Oh no, the captain.’ thought Tony, turning around and looking up at the officer who was looming over him. “What are you doing, Lieutenant?” “I’m attending an injured soldier, sir.” Tony despised Captain Jeffrey Rhode, the captain in charge of the obstacle course. Captain Rhode tested every soldier and evaluated their performances. Each soldier had to be approved ‘physically fit’ before leaving for combat. Everywhere Tony went, the captain was there. It seemed to Tony that the captain looked for any infraction he could, just so he could punish him; he wished he could figure out what it was that he had done to make the other man hate him so much. “You’re in the middle of a timed run, soldier, put your gear back on and get your butt back on course.” “But sir….” Tony, started, “Private Gentry is hurt; he needs medical attention...” “I SAID ON YOUR FEET, SOLDIER!” Captain Rhode snatched up Tony’s backpack and threw it at the lieutenant. Tony’s canteen, full of water, came loose from its binding and swung around with a strong force, slamming into the still-squatting soldier on the left side of his face and catching him by surprise. The heavy metal container hit Tony so hard that it split the skin on his left cheekbone and knocked him over. Private Gentry let out a little gasp of dismay and attempted to help Tony to right himself. Tony assured the private that he was okay and, under his own power, started to stand up. As he did so, there was a voice from behind Captain Rhode’s back. Captain Rhode stood there, frozen, staring hard at the startled Lieutenant Edwards. The Lieutenants’ cheek and outer edge of his eye were already starting to swell; red and purple stood out garishly against the young soldier’s light skin tone. Blood from the split trickled down the side of the medic’s face in thick, fast moving rivulets. The Captain immediately regretted his actions, If only the lieutenant wasn’t always so bloody contrary, he wouldn’t always have to be disciplining the handsome, young soldier. He did not hear at first, when the question came. “What’s going on? Captain Rhode?” Nick had been following behind the troop of soldiers running the course, in a jeep. He’d heard that someone was hurt and had gone to check it out. Instructing his driver to pull over, Nick had decided that he’d rather walk the course. He had come up on the three men just as Rhode threw the pack at Tony. He had seen Tony go over and then immediately start to right himself. When the captain did not answer right away he turned to Tony who, by this point, was standing up, his left hand gingerly feeling the damaged area around his eye, forehead and cheek. “Lieutenant?” Nick said, evenly. Tony pulled his fingers away from their explorations and studied the blood that filled the crevasses of his prints. He gave no hesitation in answering; he was a good soldier after all; automatically obeying his superior officers. Tony gave the simplest version possible. “I was called off the course by Sergeant O’Reilly; he said Private Gentry had hurt his ankle. I was examining him when Captain Rhode came and ordered me back on the course.” Nick studied his stone-faced lover for a few seconds. There was no way Tony would say more than he had to about the incident. It was up to Nick to say something to the captain, but not in front of the lower ranks. So Nick just nodded and then said, “Lieutenant Edwards, help the private up. My jeep is about half a kilometre behind me. Take Gentry there and wait for me, I’ll return shortly to escort you to the hospital. You might need stitches for that cut.” Nick fought the urge to reach out and touch the damaged face of his lover. “Yes sir.” Tony said, leaning down to gather Private Gentry up. “Yes Sir.” Gentry echoed, getting up and hopping on one foot, gingerly testing the strength of his ankle by touching the tips of his toes to the earth. Captain Rhode watched and listened to Captain Winters’ orders, but he said nothing, preferring to wait for the soldiers to be gone before confronting the very intimidating Winters. Rhode didn’t like being shown up like that, especially in front of Lieutenant Edwards. Once the two soldiers were out of earshot, Rhode demanded in a whiny voice. “How come you dismissed them? This is my course, and while on it, the soldiers are mine!” Nick could see that he had really angered the captain, but he didn’t care. The man was un-deserving of his rank as far as Nick was concerned. Rhode had earned his rank through sloppy paperwork and a medical condition. Deemed fit to help train soldiers physically, Jeffrey Rhode himself would never see combat. He had flat feet. Personally, Nick thought that the man was too chicken-shit even to pick up a gun, let alone get close enough to stick a bayonet into the enemy. Perhaps it was better that Rhode stayed behind -- a man like that would only get other men killed. Nick shook his head, pushing away the stray thoughts, and concentrated on what the captain was saying. “I’m in charge of those men, and…..” “No Jeff, *I’m* in charge of those men.” Nick cut the complaining captain off. “You are simply the custodian of an obstacle course. The men look to me for their leadership, as they should.” Nick smiled indulgently at the captain, angering the man further. He turned and looked down the course, Tony and Gentry had gone around a bend, and neither could be seen. Good. No witnesses at all as all of the soldiers were ahead, still running the difficult course. “Don’t call me Jeff; it’s, Captain Rhode, even to you, *Captain Winters*. “Do you realize, Captain, that you assaulted an officer of the United States army? By all rights, Lieutenant Edwards could press charges with the MP’s and see you court marshalled.” “But it was an accident, I never meant for that canteen to strike him.” “Really? Well, it looked to me like it was intentional. Why did you order him back on the course?” “Because he didn’t ask my permission to stop running. Lieutenant Edwards is very ….er…strong willed. He needs to be shown his place.” The captain didn’t know why, but just the sight of Edwards angered him: Actually, he did know why, but Jeffrey didn’t want to face the truth. He found the handsome lieutenant attractive, and that disturbed him. He should find his fiancée, Constance, more attractive than the dark haired soldier, but the fact was that he didn’t. He had managed to get by all this time by pretending that marrying Constance was the right thing to do. But Lieutenant Edwards had transferred in, and Jeff was stricken with powerful feelings for the handsome soldier. And Jeffrey resented him for it. “Lieutenant Edwards’ place is on the field, attending wounded soldiers,” cut in Nick. “Private Gentry was not wounded,” retorted Rhode, hotly. “And you’re a doctor now?” Nick scowled at the other Captain. The man was starting to piss him off; it was time to wrap up this discussion and get Gentry and Tony to the infirmary. “I know what you’re up to, Jeffrey.” Nick intentionally used the Captain’s first name. “I’ve seen the way you pick on the Lieutenant; you’re a bully, Rhode. Lieutenant Edwards did the right thing helping Gentry, and you can’t stop him from carrying out his designated duties. As for assaulting him, I’m pretty sure Edwards won’t say a thing, so I will.” Nick stepped up close to the shorter captain and menaced him. “Leave the Lieutenant alone, or I’ll report you to the MPs. Even if Edwards and Gentry don’t back me up, it will be my word against yours, and I’ll pit my history at WestPoint and three generations of Generals and Colonels against your *medically unfit to fight despite still needed in the efforts* history. Colonel Winston is a close friend of my father, the General. I’m sure he’ll believe anything I have to say.” Captain Rhode stepped back a pace, “Fine,” he said, intimidated by the larger Captain. “I’ll leave the Lieutenant alone. See if I care if he’s out of shape on the field of battle.” “He’s fit enough. Trust me on that one.” Nick spun on his heel and stalked away. Despite appearing in control, he wasn’t. Nick was so angry with the other Captain he just wanted to punch his face in; it took all of his military training not to lift his fist and hit the other man. He knew that Rhode tended to pick on Tony, making him drop at the slightest infraction and give fifty or even one hundred push-ups. Tony had also complained to him that everywhere he turned, the Captain was there, just staring at him, watching him. It unnerved Tony, and he couldn’t figure out why the Captain’s focus was solely on him. Though Nick had offered to do something about the Captain before, Tony had always refused, telling his lover that he didn’t want to make waves; he didn’t want to be known as a complainer. Nick knew that Tony could take whatever punishment the Captain chose to dish out, extra push-ups weren’t the problem; the problem was that the captain always seemed to be riding Tony. As Nick loped back to the jeep, he tried thinking of ways to tell Tony that he had warned the captain off. He supposed the truth was the best route to take.
“I told you, Nick, I can look after Captain Rhodes myself.” Both soldiers were in Nick’s tent discussing Captain Rhode. Tony had been to see the doctor already and was now back, sporting five small stitches on his cheekbone. The men were lucky to have a private place to vent their ‘frustrations’. As both a captain facing combat and a platoon leader, Nick was privileged to have his own private space. Other men of the same rank had to share, because they were permanently assigned to the base. Tony himself shared his tent with three other Lieutenants, of whom he was the only medic. His tent mates referred to him as ‘Doc,’ and the soldiers in his platoon had picked up on it. He did not mind the nickname too much. It was better than ‘kid’ - which was what the other soldiers had called him at first. Nick had laughed when Tony complained about his youth. He told the troubled medic that every one referred to medics with some sort of a nickname; it was inevitable. Tony had sighed then and supposed that it was better than not having the men know who he was at all. In a short while they would all be facing death together, and Tony felt that it was his job to keep the grim reaper from claiming too many of America’s sons. Shortly after, ‘Doc’ had transformed itself to his new nickname, and he’d stopped fighting it. The privacy of the tent came in handy for times like the present. Nick stepped up close to the mildly angry lieutenant. “I’m sorry if I over stepped my boundaries, but bullies like Rhode only understand one thing; strength. And I’m not just talking about muscle power, I’m talking about rank. I gave Rhode the ultimatum you couldn’t.” He reached out and grasped his lover’s hand, searching Tony’s expressive eyes for understanding. Tony sighed softly, then smiled. They were in a time of war and enough people were angry in the world; Captain Rhode wasn’t worth his or Nick’s time. “I know you were just trying to help.” He gave his light brown-haired lover’s hand a strong squeeze. Tony let go of Nick’s hand and then flopped down onto the small cot. “Well, it will be nice to turn around and *not* see the Captain. You don’t know what it’s like to have someone watching you all the time. Some one staring at you, waiting to pounce at the slightest infraction, real or imagined. It will be a relief, actually.” Sitting up, he patted the spot alongside him on the bed. Staring up into Nick’s eyes, Tony’s own, deep green ones grew dark with uncertainty, “I don’t know what I did to make the Captain hate me. As far as I know, most every one likes me.” Nick sat next to his lover. “I don’t think it was that he hated you, but more that he was attracted to you….” He reached out a hesitant hand and gently brushed the backs of his fingers over Tony’s right temple. “NO.” Tony shook his head emphatically. “No way. He has a fiancé, I think it’s more a case of he just didn’t like me for his own reasons.” He shrugged; it didn’t really matter. You couldn’t force people to be friends with you. Tony was only thankful that they’d be shipping out in a couple more weeks. Nick drew his hand back slowly; he was completely amazed. For such a smart guy, Tony was completely oblivious. “Oh, trust me; he was attracted to you. He bullied you because he didn’t *want* to be drawn to you.” Tony frowned, and a small crease formed across the bridge of his pert nose, vanishing swiftly as his features smoothed out again. “Well, I suppose that’s a point we could debate until the end of the war.” He turned and faced his secret lover. “I guess we will just have to agree to disagree on that matter. Now enough about Captain Rhode.” Tony flashed a large grin, his eyes sparkling in the dim interior. “I’m on duty at the hospital in twenty minutes, what do you want to do to kill the time?” He licked his lips, moistening them. The gesture inflamed Nick’s desire, and he pushed Tony over so that he was on his back, legs stretched out and head on the pillow. He pinned his lover down with a predatory gaze as he climbed over to straddle Tony across his muscular thighs. “Play doctor of course,” said Nick, leaning down and capturing his laughing lover’s lush mouth.
Thursday, June 1st, 1944: Tony glanced at his watch again; he had to be on duty in ten minutes, and still Nick had not returned from the strategy meeting in Colonel Winston’s office. Whatever was going on, Tony figured it was big; Nick had been gone for three hours. They had been supposed to meet at Tony’s tent, then go for lunch at the mess hall before Tony had to work a 15:00 to 23:00 hour shift. Tony groaned, of all the shifts, the three to eleven one was the busiest. Changing the dressings on wounded soldiers, the dispensation of medication and preparation for surgery took place during that time, along with the more mundane yet equally important tasks of changing bedpans and linens. Sighing, he sat up from his prone position, swung his legs over the side of the army cot and pulled on his combat boots. From there, Tony stood up, leaned over a large basin of clean water and studied his image in the small mirror for a few seconds. He picked up a small black comb and ran it through his hair, taming the wild strands into conformity. He smiled and thought that at least now he looked halfway presentable. Scratching at his chin, Tony thought that he maybe should have shaved, but there was no time to do it now. Hopefully no one would object to his five o’clock shadow.
Nick couldn’t believe how long the Colonel had talked. The upcoming offensive was huge; a lot of time had gone into planning it. It had taken the Colonel a full four hours to brief every man fully about his role in the operation. Finally, they were dismissed, and it was at that point that Nick had the good fortune of mustering his entire platoon, minus his medics, Tony and the very young Corporal Aiden Smith. He told the men that they were all granted leave from the base from 0700 Friday June 2nd to 1600 hours on Sunday, June 4th, but that was all he said. The soldiers were not to be told of the upcoming events. Command wanted the men to enjoy themselves. On Sunday night, they would learn the battle plan. Nick knew that Tony and the corporal had no idea about three days of leave being granted. Knowing that his lover would be busy working, Nick decided to go and make some plans for the weekend. Once they were in place, he would find Tony and let him in on the good news.
Now that everything was in order, Nick left his tent and started for the hospital. Arriving a few minutes later, he pulled the wooden-framed door open, stepping into the dim interior. He stood mannequin-still, just inside the entrance way and let his eyes adjust to the lighting. Once they did, he did not like what he saw; a young, buxom nurse with blazing red hair was standing way too close to Tony for Nick’s liking. Tony for his part, seemed casual enough, but the big-boobed redhead appeared to be flirting shamelessly. Nick could see the girl blushing and dipping her head at whatever it was that Tony had said to her. It was apparent that neither of them saw or heard Nick, so he approached slowly, passing by dozens of wounded soldiers in row upon row of tiny cots. Most of the men were sleeping, others were awake and occupied in reading or writing letters, while a few just lay there, watching the Captain with haunted eyes as he passed them by. “Listen, Heidi, there’s no point in being shy about it.” Tony said to the nurse as he clutched a metal covered medical chart in his hand. The girl blushed and giggled. Tony sighed softly; he couldn’t believe it. This girl was supposed to be a recent graduate of nursing school - not high school. “The soldier in bed 21 needs a sponge bath, badly, I might add, and you need to give it to him.” “But Lieutenant Edwards, I’m not married,” said the nurse, looking up at the tall, handsome man from a veil of light red lashes. “And what has that got to do with anything?” Tony asked, getting tired of the pretty nurse’s routine. The door to the ward opened, but neither of them turned to see who it was. “Well….I’m not supposed to see a naked man until my wedding night; my pa says so.” Heidi’s pale skin stained to an even deeper shade of pink, and she averted her gaze as she tucked an escaped lock of hair behind her ear. Tony sighed, “He’s unconscious, Lieutenant Lindman. Sergeant Eames will never know and neither will your father, so please stop stalling and give the man a bath. He needs to be clean in case the doctors need to operate again, and if you had bothered to read the chart, you’d know that.” Slightly frustrated, his tone was soft, yet severe. He tried smiling gently at the newly made nurse, to put her at ease. “Excuse me, Lieutenant Edwards.” Both Tony and Heidi turned to face the voice. Tony’s lips formed a tiny smile, then suppressed it. It wouldn’t do to look ‘too’ friendly in front of the nurse. “May I have a word please?” Nick’s voice was even; almost bored sounding. He worked at keeping his handsome face neutral. “Sure.” Tony gave his lover a confused look. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that his Captain was angry. ‘Must have been the strategy meeting,’ thought Tony. “Outside.” Nick turned and started for the door. “I’ll be right there, Sir.” Tony watched Nick stalk away for a second, then he turned his gaze away and said, “Listen, lieutenant, if you don’t like what’s on the duty roster, I suggest you take it up with your own commanding officer, otherwise, just give the man a bath and be done with it. Understood?” Usually, Tony stayed out of the nurses’ affairs, but this time he couldn’t. The girl didn’t want to carry out the duties that had been assigned to her by the head nurse, and Tony sure as hell wasn’t giving the man a bath, not because he objected to the detail, but because he was already off duty. “Yes sir.” Heidi snatched the soldier’s chart out of Tony’s hand and, in a typical female huff, spun on her heel and stalked away, thinking that the handsome Lieutenant was not so ‘nice’ after all; he definitely was not worth any more of *her* time. As soon as she turned her back, Tony followed the same route as his lover. Once outside, Tony waited expectantly for Nick to tell him why he had come to the hospital, something unusual for the Captain. But when his lover just stared at him, with that funny look on his face, Tony couldn’t take it any more. “What’s the matter, Nick?” he asked, finally. “Were you flirting with that nurse?” Nick hated the way he sounded, like a jealous boyfriend, but he couldn’t help it; he *was* a jealous boyfriend. Tony laughed softly and drew Nick aside, into the shadows of the night, where no one could see them. “Nick….I wasn’t flirting, and neither was she. We were discussing a patient who needed a sponge bath. Nurse Lindman didn’t want to give the patient a bath; she objects to the nudity associated with bathing.” Nick sighed; he felt like such an idiot. Why would Tony flirt with a woman, anyway? That was not where his attractions lay. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Tony. It’s just that….” Nick, usually not one at a loss for words, didn’t know what to say. Talking to his soldiers was one thing, trying to talk to his lover was quite another. “….You were jealous?” Tony cut in, saving the stuttering captain. The shadows hid his small smile. He sighed and said, softly, “I know what’s in your heart, Nick, I’d never destroy that, ever.” Uncaring of the consequences, Tony leaned in and whispered airily, “I feel the same for you.” Then he pressed a long, languid kiss on Nick’s warm lips. Certainly not an outright declaration of love, but as close as Tony could get to one considering they were standing in the darkened shadows of an American army base. Nick let out his breath after Tony had kissed him, although he hadn’t realized that he had been holding it. He was relieved to hear that Tony felt the same for him; his plans for the two of them were perfect, and with that now in the forefront of his mind, Nick said, “We should go to my tent, I’ve got good news for you.” “I hope that’s not all you’ve got for me,” cracked Tony, suggestively.
CROYDEN - NORTH EAST LONDON: Tony shut the door to the small dwelling and dropped his and Nick’s duffel bags to the ground. Nick was busy hiding the jeep in the small lean-to that was supposed to be the ‘garage’. It was going to take a few minutes to disguise the military vehicle. Tony had said that he would go inside and start a fire as there was no other means of heat. Instead of getting down to setting the fire at once, the soldier took a minute to absorb his very English surroundings. He looked all around himself and smiled, wondering how Nick had managed to come up with such a great place in so short a time. Shrugging, he supposed that, with a general for a father, you could do anything. The cottage was very tiny, but homey, just what the two of them needed, considering what they would be facing a few days later. The kitchen and the sitting room were separated by a giant stone fireplace that was accessible from either side. The bathroom was a small outhouse, a quick trip from the kitchen’s back door, and the only other room was a bedroom. Tony bent over and picked up the canvas bags, setting off for the bedroom. A large, wrought-iron bed with a massive, down comforter dominated the room. The fire took hold quickly, and the place had already started to warm up by the time Nick came inside. He had taken some time to become familiar with their surroundings. Just because he was off the base a soldier did not cease to take precautions. Nick felt better knowing where the possible escape routes were, should trouble arise. He entered the house and shut the door quietly. Leaning in the frame of the door, Nick watched as his lover unpacked his duffel. Unaware of being watched, Tony went on about his business, natural and at ease. Nick’s heart clenched; he knew that he loved Tony; he had never felt this way about another person. The thought that his handsome lover could possibly die in the next couple of days scared the shit out of Nick. He himself might die, for that matter, leaving Tony alone to face the rest of the war. Nick made a snap decision. If that was to be the case, then he wanted to let Tony know exactly how he felt about him. Tony bent over to dig out his shaving kit from the bottom of his bag, and saw out of the corner of his eye that his lover was staring at his ass. Grinning, a plot sprang forth in his mind. Finally and truly alone, Tony did not want to waste any time. He pulled his shaving bag out and placed it on the top of the nightstand. There were things in there that the two of them would need later, but for now, Tony just wanted relief. He crammed the canvas bags under the raised bed and stood up. He turned around slowly, making sure to capture his lover’s blue-eyed gaze as he did so. Once Nick’s eyes were fixed on him, Tony started the show. First, he crossed his hands in front of himself, grabbing the hem of his un-tucked shirt and slowly drew the garment up and off, exposing his torso. His nipples immediately puckered into tiny pebbles in response to the chilled air in the bedroom. Slinking to the bedroom door, Nick leaned seductively in the entryway and watched, his whole person held rapt by his lover’s impromptu strip tease. Tony threw Nick a seductive wink as he ran the fingers of his right hand over his sparsely haired chest, going from one dark copper nipple to the next, fingering each. Then he drew his hand downward and slowly caressed his own abdomen. His stomach muscles stood out, all six well-defined muscles rippled down his lean abdomen, a tempting ladder leading the way to the exotic treasure that lay just below the belt line. Tony knew very well how much Nick loved his body, especially the area of skin between his navel and the top of his groin. He eyed Nick seductively as he undid his belt, using only his right hand to do so while slowly raising his left hand to his mouth and stroking his bottom lip lazily with his pointer and index fingers. Belt undone, Tony expertly undid the button and fly to his dark khaki pants one handed. They slid freely down his legs and hit the wooden floor, emitting a soft ‘whoosh’ when they met the ground. Already out of his army boots, Tony kicked the pants away and stood before his rapt lover wearing only his wool socks - the floors were too cold to go barefoot - and his cotton underwear. Knowing the effect his little show was having on his lover, Tony completed his performance by drawing the tip of his index finger into his mouth and sucking on it while simultaneously reaching down and cupping his considerable erection. Pulling his finger out from his mouth with an overly wet pop for effect, he left a slippery trail as he traced the wet digit down his chest, bridging the gap between generous pectoral muscles. “Well, are you going to stand there all afternoon staring at me, or are you going to come over here and help me unpack?” Tony asked, his voice husky with invitation. It took Nick about two seconds before he had his lover in his arms and flat on his back on the large bed. He had tackled Tony and propelled him backwards, landing on top of him. “You should be out of uniform, captain,” Tony said, burrowing his hand between their tight pressed bodies in search of his lover’s erection. He found the khaki clad organ easily and cupped it in his large hand. “You’re right, lieutenant.” Nick kissed Tony once on his lips, “I should be.” He jumped up and quickly stripped off his own uniform in a neat, efficiently ordered manner. While Nick removed his clothes, Tony crawled under the thick down quilt. There was a fire going, but it was only just starting to heat up the kitchen and sitting area; none of the warmth had yet made it into the bedroom. It was far too cold to make love on top of the covers. “Get over,” demanded Nick, genially, as he pushed his way into the cozy bed. “Brrr…it’s cold under here.” “Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up.” Tony turned on his side and faced his chilled lover; He propped his head up with his right hand and put his left to good use by slowly running his fingertips up Nick’s bare side. Nick rolled and settled himself close to Tony’s chest. He mirrored his lover’s position and motion. They hadn’t had the luxury of lying like this, close together, for quite sometime. The most the men had been able to experience were stolen kisses and quick, efficient love making sessions. Tactically speaking, it would be suicide for both men, if they were discovered in each other’s tattooed arms. “What?” asked Nick finally, as Tony seemed intent on staring at him. “Do you ever look at me and feel like we’ve met before?” Tony’s previously active hand had stopped moving and was now resting possessively at his lover’s waist. Nick smiled but shook his head. “No.” He said, not recalling how he had felt when he had first seen Tony’s photo in his father’s office. “Do you?” “Yes. Sometimes, when it’s quiet, and we can be alone, like now, I look at you and think, ‘we’ve done this before’.” “You mean like ‘here’ in this bed together.” “No. More like the ‘relationship’ between us; we’ve done it before. Don’t laugh at me.” Tony tried to sound serious, but his tone was light. His fingers gently tickled at Nick’s side, causing the normally stoic soldier to giggle. Tony ceased tickling upon hearing his lover’s whispered, ‘stop’. Nick laced the fingers of his free hand through Tony’s, thus preventing any further attack on his overly sensitive side. He stared up at his green-eyed lover thoughtfully for a few long seconds, then he blinked and said in a serious tone. “Maybe we have been together before, perhaps it’s destiny that we meet.” “You’re humouring me.” Tony said softly, “I sometimes feel like that people keep meeting each other over and over again. The names and faces change, but it’s still the same person, reincarnated.” “Well, if you say so Tony, then I believe it.” Tony smiled and leaned forward as Nick closed his eyes in readiness for a kiss. But Tony didn’t kiss his lover; he spoke instead. His warm exhalations came out on a breathy whisper, caressing Nick’s lips. “If only your men knew what a romantic their captain was.” Then Tony pressed his yearning lips forward. He pulled back briefly and said, “Thank you for this weekend.” His thoughts of reincarnation were replaced with lust filled ones. Nick wrapped his arm around Tony’s neck and pushed him onto his back. He rolled with him and settled himself on top of his slightly smaller partner. The smile left his face as he stared down into large green eyes. What his beautiful lover saw in him, Nick couldn’t say, all he knew was that he was glad that Tony had even given him a second glance at all. The odds of them meeting had been astronomical, falling in love even greater. And now that Nick had the love he had been searching for, there was no way he was going to lose it. ‘No matter what,’ Nick vowed silently to himself, ‘I’ll keep you safe.’ “What’s the matter, Nick?” The way his lover was staring down at him concerned Tony. His hands had been roaming gently over Nick’s back and hard butt, but he stopped his caresses and let his warm hands rest on his lover’s ass cheeks, gently cupping the flesh. ‘Maybe Tony was right’, Nick thought, ‘maybe we have done this before.’ Suddenly everything felt familiar, filling Nick up with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. “Nick?” Tony questioned softly again. “Nothing,” lied Nick, shaking away the seriousness of the moment and kissing Tony’s plump lips. “I was just imagining us making love.” “Well don’t imagine, Captain, do. There’s a jar of lanolin on the nightstand.” Tony reached out blindly and managed to find the slick balm that he had appropriated from the base hospital’s supply room. Two simultaneous hand jobs later, both men, content with their release, cuddled into one another and fell asleep. Nick woke first. Used to very little sleep, two hours of late afternoon slumber had completely rejuvenated him. He kept his eyes on his still sleeping lover as he dressed; his mind once again on the medic’s safety. All this, the tranquility and comfort of a house, would soon be gone. The time the two men would have alone together henceforth would not only be limited, but also uncomfortable. After this weekend, everything would change; one or both of them could die in battle. Nick certainly hoped not, he aimed to do everything possible to prevent such a tragedy. Dressed, the soldier quietly snuck out of the bedroom, pulling the door closed behind him. As Tony slept, Nick went about the business of making them some food. A hearty meat and vegetable stew would do nicely. The wife of the owner of the cottage had stocked the cupboards with a couple of loaves of fresh white bread, cookies and a few other baked items. It had cost Nick a little extra, but the cottar was more than happy to provide his wife’s services. The times were lean for the citizens of Britain, every little extra served to help feed the farmer and his family. Nick pulled down a loaf of bread from the cupboard and set it aside. He bent down and rummaged through a lower cupboard, finding a large glass bowl. He took that out and then went to the root cellar located at the back of the small bungalow. The cellar was dim and very, very chilly. Nick left the small half door open, and the late daylight provided just enough illumination for him to select his supplies. He picked up a large turnip and put it in the bowl. Two potatoes, four carrots and one onion followed that. The farmer had left a good chunk of mutton wrapped in brown paper in the cold cellar, along with some fresh churned butter and a pail of milk. Nick took those items as well. Back in the house, he set about lighting the lamps and stoking the fire. Once the house was in order, Nick started the stew. He had plans for a romantic night, and everything had to be just right. Tony rolled over in his sleep, his long arm snaking out over the empty space beside him. When the bed failed to produce another occupant, the soldier rubbed his still closed eyes. The cold sheets were slowly coaxing him awake. Tony turned onto his back and lay there, perfectly still, taking his time in rising. Lids fluttered between closed and open as eventually lucidity fully replaced drowsiness. He was in no hurry to rise; it would be a long time before he would be in a comfortable bed again, and he intended to enjoy it for as long as possible. After a while the medic sighed. It was no use, he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Erratic hours at the base hospital had made it so that even after three hours of sleep, the soldier felt fully rested. His body was used to short catnaps, able to fall asleep anywhere, anytime. Opening his eyes, Tony was surprised to see that the room was dark. ‘Well, almost dark’, he thought, lazily. The flickering light of the fire in the living area danced across the aged wallpaper, like gypsies at a fair. ‘What time is it?’ he wondered, just as the clock on the mantle chimed out six rapid, out of tune ‘ding-dongs’. Tony rose and slipped on his pants, socks and T-shirt. The room was dark, but he knew exactly where his clothes were. As he pulled on his socks, the scent of stew wafted slowly through the bedroom. Tony sniffed the fragrant air, and suddenly, all he could think about was how his stomach was complaining about its lack of nourishment. Whatever it was that his lover was cooking smelled delicious. His empty stomach gave an approving grumble, spurring Tony through the bedroom door. Tony silently padded out of the bedroom and in through the living room. He came to a standstill by the frame between tiny kitchen and the designated dining spot. His lover was standing over a wood burning stove, peering into a giant pot of something, his back to the rest of the house. Nick was dressed the same as he was, in shirt, socks and loose boxer shorts, but, Tony noted a pair of white cotton straps done up neatly in a bow. That made the younger man grin; his lover, a big, tough captain in the U.S Army, was wearing an apron. Sensing eyes upon him, Nick froze for a brief second before returning the ladle to his stew pot. Still smiling at the sight, Tony crept up quietly and wrapped his arms around Nick’s waist, hugging him tightly. Resting his head on Nick’s shoulder, Tony peered into the pot. “What?” Nick asked, turning around in his lover’s arms to face him. He could see that Tony was amused; it was apparent that he was trying to stifle a laugh. Tony forced his facial muscles to relax. His lover looked adorable in the apron, but he doubted the no nonsense soldier would want to hear that. With a grin still trying to escape, Tony said diplomatically, “It’s surprising to see you look so ..er..domestic.” He squeezed the man in his arms tighter, then planted a strong kiss on Nick’s stubbly cheek. “Mmmm. Smells good.” Tony scrubbed his own whiskery cheek lightly over the side of Nick’s face then pulled out of the embrace, finishing his thought. “I like it.” He looked around and saw that Nick had set the coffee table for dinner. Many large, homemade pillar candles were set around the room. There was a bottle of red wine nestling between two pewter candle plates. “Why, Captain Winters.” declared Tony. *You really are* just a big old romantic.” Tony’s light southern twang showed for a moment, before he quickly squelched it. Nick removed his apron and set it over a chair. He pulled on a pair of home-made oven mitts. “I’m not all hard edges, no bullshit, all the time, Tony.” His voice was light hearted. He was glad he had surprised his younger lover. “Grab that loaf of bread and dish of butter and bring it to the table.” Nick carefully picked up the large tureen and led the way to the coffee table. He put the stew down, and Nick found space for the butter and bread. “I like this side of you, Nick. It gives me hope. Hope that after the war, we might be able to build a life together, somewhere quiet.” Tony settled himself on a large cushion in front of the table. Nick did the same, then poured the wine, while Tony was speaking. He smiled at his lover and said with emotion. “I’d like that too, Tony.” He covered the younger man’s large hand briefly with his own, then let go and picked up his wine, tipping it in the other’s direction. “Not exactly a champagne flute, but I guess it will do,” Nick said of the short juice glasses they were using. “I like the colour,” remarked Tony, eying the soft bluish-green cups in the dull lighting, preferring to look on the bright side of things. “I hope you don’t mind all this romantic stuff, as you call it,” Nick said, sipping his wine again before putting the glass down. “No, it’s nice. Eating in the barracks gets tiring after a while. I like just the two of us for dinner much better.” Nick nodded in agreement and picked up Tony’s heavy ceramic bowl to dish some stew into it. “I wanted to be alone with you and just relax, take our time about things.” Nick blushed slightly. “After this weekend, it won’t be just *the two of us* for a very long time. We’ll be lucky to find any privacy at all.” Setting the bowl down, Nick picked up his own bowl and started to fill it. Tony nodded knowingly as he sliced of a few pieces of bread. He’d been waiting for something like this. “I figured something was up.” He buttered the bread slices. “Your meeting went on for hours.” Nick gave his lover a sombre look. “It’s the big push we’ve been waiting for.” He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about the operation yet, but Nick trusted Tony implicitly, In fact he trusted the handsome green-eyed lieutenant with his life. “We’ll be out fighting for quite some time.” “Well, then we’d better make the most of our time together.” Tony popped a chunk of turnip into his mouth and bit down, seductively. “I’m sure we’ll be able to snatch a kiss or two in a foxhole.” Ignoring his dinner, Nick’s eyes instead devoured Tony as he continued to eat his meal, a grin plastered to the corners of his full mouth. “Mmmmm,” Tony said. “This is good. Why don’t you try it.” He dipped a length of bread into the thick juice and slowly brought the bread to his lips, sucking in, then biting off a piece to scarf down noisily, like a growling dog. Then he laughed and said, “Come on, eat!” His lover’s antics broke the spell. Nick shook his head and picked up his spoon. Now he thought about it, he was starved. After a dessert of Hershey chocolate bars and milk, the men cleared the dishes away and left them in the sink. Nick moved the cushions and coffee table back, making space in the small living room area. He poured them each some wine from a second bottle and sipped the fragrant liquid. In the corner of the room, Nick had set up an old phonograph. He selected a record and put it on. He cranked the handle hard and fast, then he set the needle to the first groove. “Shall we dance?” Nick said, turning around. Tony took a large swallow from his glass and said nervously, “Okay. But I should warn you that I’m not that good at it.” “I guess I’ll lead then.” Nick swept up his lover in his arms and hugged him tight. “Years of West Point cotillions have made me an expert.” Music from Bing Crosby’s version of Danny Boy filled the tiny cottage. The deep, baritone of Bing’s voice enveloped the men: they moved as one as they slowly swayed back and forth to the Irish ballad. Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling Tony squeezed his lover tight to his chest, and Nick responded by blowing in his love’s small ear, raising goose-bumps over Tony. But come you back when summer's in the meadow Tony responded to the stimulus by sighing contentedly and exposing his neck to his older lover. Nick exhaled heavily and pushed his groin into Tony’s. Complying with his partner’s wishes, Nick kissed and then gently bit a spot on the exposed flesh. And if you come, when all the flowers are dying “Tony?” Nick stared into Tony’s dark eyes. And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me “Yes?” Tony replied, his voice quiet and soft. Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so. “I think I love you.” Tony smiled sweetly and said, “And I think I love you too.” Then he leaned forward and kissed Nick on the mouth.
Over the past few nights, enemy planes had stolen through the dark to release their deadly cargo over the citizens of London. Bombs fell on the city’s neighbourhoods in a lethal rain meant to destroy. Tonight, was no exception; London had once again sent frightened citizens to the shelters. As the foreign bombs hit their targets and exploded, bright lights lit up the city like floodlights at a movie premiere over the calm skies of Los Angeles. In the English countryside, in a warm bed, two men made love to one another. The explosions far off in the distance were no louder than gunfire to them. They were oblivious of everything including the flashes that lit up the small bedroom for brief seconds at a time. The light’s source was no more than a distant flicker; no stronger than far off lightning. While the bombs of London lit up the horizon, seemingly exploding in time to his thrusts, Nick ploughed steadily into his tight lover again and again, hips moving faster and faster with each push. Then, finally, as the last and largest bomb yet landed on the city, lighting up the dark sky for miles and miles, Nick pushed once more into Tony. His back arched in lust and relief, yelling his pleasure as his release finally came to him. He collapsed on top of his lover then, completely satisfied. Tony took all of Nick’s weight onto his body and wrapped his arms around him. He was just as satisfied as the man atop him. Never before had someone taken his cock into their mouth the way Nick had, kissed him down there the way Nick had. No other lover had made sure of Tony’s pleasure before their own before. “Mmmmmm, Nick, that was …so…I…No one has ever done that to me before,” Tony finally managed. His finger gently caressed Nick’s strong, tattooed left bicep. Luxuriating in the warm afterglow, he shut his eyes, intending only on resting them. He smiled into the dark, when he discovered that he could still feel the spot on his neck where Nick had sucked and bitten the flesh; leaving a large mark. “Mmmhmmm,” agreed Nick, shifting his weight so that his 200 lbs didn’t rest solely on the man below him. Yawning, Nick said, “It’s never been like that for me before, either.” Reluctantly, the captain rolled off his lover. Reaching out for the sheets, Nick pulled at the blankets and covered them both up. He rolled and cuddled in close to Tony, spooning tightly in behind him. Both men were naked, and each wanted to stay so. The feel of fresh clean sheets against their own newly washed skin was heavenly. After this, both men would be sleeping in their clothes and army boots. Just as sleep was beginning to claim him, a sense of déjà vu swept over Nick. He blinked sleepily as what he had just experienced sank into his thoughts. He had done this before, with Tony; cuddled in behind and then gone to sleep. I couldn’t have, reasoned Nick to himself. This is the first time we’ve shared a bed like this. Nick smiled, Tony was right. They had met before; maybe, he thought, you keep meeting the same people over and over again. The names change and the faces too, but it’s still the same person. A few seconds after that, Nick drifted off - as his lover already had-into contented nothingness.
“Fall in” Shouted Captain Winters at the top of his lungs, gathering his officers to him for instructions. German anti-aircraft guns thundered in the distance as machine gun fire pinned them down in the ditches of the lush French countryside. Nick had led his men from the landing point after a night-time parachute trip into enemy territory to the target destination behind the German resistance guns. Due to poor weather over the English Channel, the troops had jumped a day later than planned. The airborne soldiers’ jump had not been without peril. The Germans had fired on the low-flying planes. Many had been shot down, forcing the paratroopers to leap out of the burning planes like lemmings over a cliff. The pilots had gone down with their craft. Still, Nick had managed to gather his men, all relatively healthy and uninjured. Nick was in command of the 1st platoon of Easy Company. His four squads were gamma, delta, epsilon and zeta squads. The men hsd complained at first at the names, but as Nick explained, grouchily, General Patton had picked their designates. Nicholas Winters made a perfect officer. He was efficient, brave and had empathy for his men. Getting down to business quickly, he briefed his sergeants, and they in turn briefed their squads. Once ready, the platoon dispersed as they had been ordered. Winters picked the epsilon squad to walk the point; he himself followed behind with the delta squad, watching the front, while the zeta and gamma men followed, protecting the rear. As their leader, Nick should have been in the rear of the platoon, giving orders, but he had learned, over time, that it was far more effective for him to be close to the vanguard; orders had less chance of being misinterpreted. The men in Winters’ unit appreciated a C.O who stood on the line with the rest of them. Refusing special treatment in any form, Tony had assigned himself to the delta squad thereby making himself the first medic in the line of defence. He would take care of any injuries in the front ranks. The platoon’s other two medics followed in the other squads looking after the men in the rear. Nick was leading his platoon deep into the forest; their objective was to take out the German guns that protected Normandy beach from an allied offensive. The captain had received two orders from the Colonel: destroy all the anti-aircraft guns and take no prisoners. He hoped some of his younger soldiers would be able to fire their guns when the time came. To kill a man was not as easy as some might think, and one particular young man worried him. This soldier Nick had moved to his squad where he could keep an eye on him. As for the other inexperienced men, Nick knew that his well-trained sergeants would keep tabs on them. Captain Nick also intended to watch over Tony; he was determined to protect his favourite medic. Tony appreciated his lover’s feelings, and had told him so that last morning at the country cottage. But he still warned the captain about being too protective; after all, Tony had a job to do, and if a soldier yelled for help, then Tony would go to him, gun and mortar fire be damned. In an attempt to placate his protective lover, the medic had said simply, ‘I can take care of myself, you worry about keeping yourself alive, and I’ll do the same.’ Nick had apologized, then silently vowed to watch anyway.
The ‘Fall in’ order rippled through the ranks, and the men retreated to where their captain and commander waited. Nick held a map and was busy using a compass to navigate across a very detailed map of the French countryside. Once the four sergeants were near, Nick began to fill them in on the next steps of their objective. They had managed to fight their way to the ditches, and now, behind the German guns, they were to remove all four of them. Despite the odd machine gun fire, Nick briefed his men calmly, almost tuning out the mayhem of another skirmish taking place miles away from where they were. That fight was not their problem. The plan was simple; each platoon had to fight their way close enough to the target to blow it up; by any means necessary. “Go now, and we’ll rendezvous here,” Nick coloured a tiny spot on his map as the sergeants did the same with theirs, “At seventeen-hundred hours,” Nick folded his map up and stuffed it inside his uniform. “Dismissed. Sergeant McNorris, a moment of your time,” Nick inquired how a particular private was holding up. The sergeant informed his captain that despite being green, the young private in question was doing just fine. “Brave where he had to be and smart enough not to get himself killed, so far,” declared McNorris. “Good,” Nick said. Looking just past the tall blonde’s shoulder, he watched Tony taking advantage of the down time to stitch up a soldier who had been cut on the arm by an errant bayonet. “That’s one less worry.” He shifted his focus from Tony and his task to Private Graves, who sat huddled in a tight bundle at the base of a tree, shaking excessively. “I’ve got my hands full with that one.” McNorris’s eyes followed and the seasoned soldier smiled. “Better you than me, cap.” With that, the soldier turned and went to find his men. “Doc!” Nick yelled, affecting the name for Tony that the rest of the platoon had; no need to stand apart considering. Tony turned immediately upon hearing his name. He saw Nick motion for him and in return, he nodded his understanding. “You’ll be fine. Make sure to find me tomorrow to check out the bandage, if I don’t come to you first.” Tony slapped the soldier on the arm and stood. “What’s up?” Tony asked casually. He pulled his canteen and took a deep pull on it. “It’s Private Graves,” Nick said, concern for the young soldier evident in his voice. “He says he can’t see, but he has no injury as far as I can tell.” Copying the medic, he removed his canteen and drank from it. Tony nodded knowingly, he had heard about this from the doctors at the base. “It’s called, ‘hysterical blindness’. The events of last night, and this morning’s fighting were so traumatising to him that his brain, in an effort to stop the fright, has found its own solution. Blindness, rendering him incapable of fighting -- no fighting means no dying.” Nick shook his head; human beings were so complex at times. “What do we do about it?’ Nick asked, handing off a pack of cigarettes to Sergeant O’Reilly as he passed by, the sergeant issuing a hasty ‘thanks’ as he kept on moving. “He needs reassurance that everything will be okay -- that he will be okay.” “Jesus Christ, Tony, I can’t promise that!” Nick was frustrated; he needed everybody he could get for the next phase of the objective. The platoon had another hour of rest before they had to pull out. “This is war; there are no guarantees.” “Well I’d send Private Graves home then, because even though there’s nothing wrong, he isn’t going to get better, until you tell him what he wants to hear.” Tony’s lips formed a thin line as he thought silently for a few seconds. Seeing that Nick had no intention of speaking to the terrified private, he said finally, “I’ll talk to him.” “Private Graves?” Tony asked gently, squatting down in front of the terrified soldier. “Who’s that?” Graves head bobbed up, but his eyes did not settle on the medic directly in front of him. “It’s Lieutenant Edwards…” “Doc?” “Yeah, it’s Doc,” agreed Tony. He reached out, picked up the private’s wrist and felt for a pulse. “Captain says you’ve gone blind.” The pulse felt good, onto the next step, feeling for temperature. Tony put his hand to the young man’s forehead. “Yes sir,” replied Graves quietly. No temperature, Tony continued with the rest of his examination. As he did, the medic spoke to the private. “Listen Frederick, I know why you’ve gone blind.” “You do?” “Yes. The doctors call it hysterical blindness. It’s your body’s way of trying to cope with what’s going on around you.” “But I don’t want to be blind,” the young private retorted, sounding like a petulant child. “Maybe not, but your inner mind says otherwise. At any rate, I know how to treat it.” “You do?” “Yep.” Tony opened the first aid knapsack that he wore and started to search through it. “I have some pills you can take.” He said matter of fact. “They will force your brain to agree with your orbital…” “What’s orbital mean?” Graves cut it, confused. “Your eyes.” Tony smiled and kept digging around, searching for his sugar pills. “As I was saying, the pills will help you, and so will Captain Winters.” Tony pulled a tiny bottle full of sugar pills from the sack, shook out two and pressed them into the private’s dirty palm. Nick joined the other two, just as the scared private swallowed the pills. “Doc is right, soldier.” Graves head swung in the direction of his commander’s voice, his eyes still unfocused and unseeing. Nick squatted down and reached out a fatherly hand, cupping the back of the young man’s head. The private’s hair was still clean from his shower, hours before the jump, the short strands still soft in texture. He stared into deep brown eyes and promised, “I’ll take care of you, soldier; I promise to personally look after you.” “Sir... but why would you do that?” The very young soldier trained his unfocused eyes on the captain, feeling better already. “Because it’s my duty to do so, son. I promise, you’ll see your mama again.” Nick cast a quick sideways glance to his secret lover, then stood up and ordered gently, “Get well soon, soldier. I need you.” Then he turned away. He had no more time to coddle Private Graves. This was war after all; he was a platoon leader, and this was the best he could do, offer a scared young man a lie as the truth. If his lie kept the boy alive, his job would have been done. “Captain,” called Graves. Nick turned back around. “Soldier?” “I can see again. Those pills of doc’s really worked.” The young man stood and brushed himself off. “They certainly did. Didn’t Sergeant O’Reilly tell you? Doc here is the best medic in the field. He won’t let anything bad happen to you, either.” At this, Nick did smile openly at Tony. A few of the men were watching, and they knew all along that the medic had not given Graves any real medicine. The young soldier was well liked, and it was good to see him on his feet again. The observing soldiers smiled at the man they called ‘Doc’ too. “Carry on, then.” The private turned away from the two officers and went to find friends among the troops. “Good call, Tony.” Nick said, once the soldiers had turned again and were going about their business. “I could say the same for you too. Very good father act. It’s what did the trick.” “Hey, I learned it from the best. I’ve heard my father recite that a hundred times. I suppose there’s one advantage to being a general’s son. You want a coffee? We push out in an hour.” Tony gave a jaw-cracking yawn and said, “Sounds good, but I think I’m going to bunk down for an hour instead.” “Take the nearest foxhole, lieutenant, and I’ll have O’Reilly wake you.”
Nick dropped down into the foxhole Tony had chosen to sleep in. He hated to wake his lover; the man was sleeping so soundly; amazingly, the medic was curled up into a tight, yet serene ball. Nick took a quick peek around, no one was paying attention, so he reached out and gently touched the side of Tony’s lightly whiskered face. His hand had barely made contact when Tony’s eyes flew wide open, startled and unaware for just a second or two of where he was and what was happening. Then he smiled sleepily at his lover. “An hour already?” he asked, rubbing away the grime that had collected in the corners of his eyes. “Yeah,” Nick replied, standing up. He reached out a hand, and Tony took it, allowing the Captain to pull him up to his feet. The contact felt good to the men, even if it was just a touch. “We pull out in five; time enough to piss and that’s it.” With mutual reluctance, the soldier’s hands drew apart. “Captain…” called a voice from somewhere behind the two. Nick turned and saw that Sergeant O’Reilly wanted to talk with him. “Five minutes, Tony.” Nick said softly, his eyes sweeping over the tall soldier. Nick winked then turned away leaving the seductive gesture to act in proxy for the kiss that could not take place.
Nick looked around quickly, his squad and the Epsilon squad were pinned down behind a large stand of cottonwood trees. Bullets hailed overhead but did not interfere with his orders. “Me, Fallin, Toya, Weir, Pincher and Graves will take this gun…hang on…” Nick shouted to his men, then he grabbed a hand grenade from his belt loop, pulled the pin and standing up he threw it in the direction of the large gun they were after. The grenade hit the target, taking out the group of German soldiers who were firing at them. The gunfire abruptly stopped and distant screams of pain could be heard. Nick plopped back down and kept on speaking as if nothing had happened. “The rest of you stay in the rear,” Nick trained his eyes on Tony for a second. Tony had seen the look, but said nothing to Nick. “..And make sure no Krauts sneak in behind us. Once we’re at the tower, split into two small groups and flank the gun, clear the area as you go. No prisoners, boys. Shoot to kill, the troops on the beaches are counting on us to put these guns out of commission.” Turning to his trusty sergeant, Nick commanded, “O’Reilly take the point…” “No sir, I’d like to do that.” Private Graves looked to the captain hopefully. Nick nodded his permission. ‘Let the man redeem himself,’ he thought. “All right Graves, you got the point.” The soldiers set out, and Tony obeyed the Captain’s orders, staying behind the first small group of men, although both men knew that Tony had to stay close to the platoon. It wasn’t a matter of ‘if’ he’d be needed, but ‘when.’ Tony readied his rifle. Graves cleared the stand of trees and crept slowly into the clearing, trying to keep his body in the tall grass and out of sight. When he was about thirty feet ahead of Sergeant O’Reilly, who was next in line, a mortar blast came out of nowhere, hitting the ground one foot in front of Graves. The young man screamed and fell out of O’Reilly’s sight. “Medic!” screamed the Sergeant in a panic, and dropped to the earth, trying to stay out of sight. With no thoughts for his own safety, Tony upon hearing his moniker, bolted past the soldiers in front of him, in the direction of the voice. He ran as fast as he could, knowing that a sniper would have a harder time hitting a moving target. Nick looked to his right and saw his secret lover barrelling headlong into the gunfire. ‘Shit,’ he thought, but then a mortar went off in the distance, and he turned his mind back to the battle. He’d have to talk to the ‘medic’ later about his unsafe antics. “O’Reilly?” yelled Tony as he reached the tall grass and fell down. He secured his rifle and readied his knapsack. All around him, he could hear the shouts and cries of the other soldiers; he heard Nick shout for the men to push on, and, all around him, soldiers entered into the clearing, crawling their way through the tall grass toward the gun tower. “This way…” guided the sergeant. “Help me help..me..helpmehelpme.” cried out Private Graves, from somewhere ahead of the two soldiers. Gunfire was everywhere, and there were more deadly mortar blasts, although none landed close to Private Graves. Tony found O’Reilly, and the two men snaked their way on their bellies to Graves; the sergeant leading the way. Oblivious to all that was going on, Tony set to work on the wounded soldier, but it was a losing battle. Graves’ legs had been blown off, leaving a large jagged rip where his torso had once met his extremities. The young Private’s life force was pumping out in spurts from the torn femoral arteries. All Tony could do was comfort the dying young man. A bullet zinged by the medic and grazed over his well-muscled neck, but he did not even notice; he was busy administering a useless dose of morphine to the soldier. Sergeant O’Reilly had seen the bullet cut the medic, and something in him snapped. He stood up and bellowed in a New York accent. ”Mother Fuckers…Shoot the doc will ya.. I’ll kill you all!” Then he ran in the direction of the gunfire, shooting his weapon as he went. Tony let the soldier go; it was his job after all. “How am I doc? Give it to me straight.” Tony looked down into the soldier’s eyes; he could see that the morphine was already taking effect. Graves, wasn’t that much younger than he was, yet the private treated him as if he was much older, and at the moment, Tony felt that way. “You’re going to be fine, Frederick.” Tony didn’t dare look to where the soldier’s destroyed legs lay, a few feet away, staining the long, green grass crimson red. “Can you feel the morphine?” he asked. “Yes…I’m so sleepy…” Graves looked the medic in the eye and implored, “…am I dying, Doc?” Tony stared back at the young man and said, “Let the sleep take you, Graves, and everything will be okay.” Better the brave young soldier should die painlessly and unafraid. Graves eyes shifted focus skyward, and he sighed contently. “Captain was right, I can see my ma….” he whispered softly, then, his shallow breaths ceased, and the private knew no more. “Rest in peace,” Tony said softly as he reached out and swept his palm over Graves’ lids, closing them. Then he pulled the young man’s dog tags from around his neck, placing one tag in his uniform pocket and the other in a special flap on the side of his knapsack. Someone else cried “Doc…” and Tony had no more time to mourn the passing of the private. He shouldered his heavy sack and ran in an uncomfortable half crouch in the direction of the voice. The shout had come from a reliable soldier by the name of Frank Toya. He’d never seen action before this campaign, but he came from a long line of military men and seemed to be bred for war, instinctually knowing what to do and how to conduct himself. The late-twenty-something man lay in the deep grass, sweating profusely, and bleeding liberally from the groin area, yet he remained calm. Tony reached him and dropped to his knees. Toya could see where he was bleeding from, and it scared the daylights out of him. “Give it to me straight, Doc, did a god-damned German shoot my balls off?” Tony stuck a finger in a small hole in the fabric of Toya’s pants and ripped them open wide enough to get his fist in there. He jammed his hand in, cupped the Catholic’s balls and felt around just enough to know that the man’s cock was still intact too. He pulled his hand out and said reassuringly, “Everything is where it should be, Frank…” The soldier was still staring at Tony worriedly. “Just tell me the truth Doc…I can take the truth but not a lie.” “I’m telling the truth; your privates are intact, private.” Tony flipped the flap of his sack and set about pulling out the items need for a field operation. “Whew,” Toya said, relieved, “For a minute there I thought it was all gone.” Toya hissed, trying to control his pain as he undid his canvas pants and wrestled them down. “I never figured another guy would touch my balls…” he joked, lightly, trying to cover up his discomfort. The soldier gave a nervous chuckle, and Tony looked up from what he was doing, “I never thought I’d touch your balls either, Toya.” he said, dryly, grinning afterwards. “Pull down your shorts, so I can have a look,” he instructed, dousing his hands liberally in alcohol before snapping on a precious pair of rubber gloves. Toya did as he was told and pulled one leg out of his underwear and pants so that Tony could see better. “Okay, looks like shrapnel has grazed you quite deeply on the inner part of your right thigh. I’ll fix you up here and spare you the embarrassment of yet another man handling your ‘business’.” Toya laughed at that, calm now. If Doc said he was going to live, then he’d live. “I’m going to recommend to the Captain that you take a couple of weeks to mend. I’m sorry to say you won’t be going home. This isn’t that type of injury.” Tony froze the spot on Toya’s thigh and quickly assessed the damage. The wound was fairly deep; it would need a few layers of stitches and some repair work on the damaged tissue, but nothing serious enough to get a surgeon to operate. “Put your hand over your privates.” Tony instructed, bending in close with a suture needle and thread.” He looked up into the soldier’s dark eyes and said with a smile, “I wouldn’t want to accidentally poke you with the needle.” Toya, always a good humoured man, laughed and pulled his large testicles out of Tony’s path. “Hey, doc,” Toya said, a few minutes into the stitching. “Hmmm?” Tony didn’t look up from what he was doing; he was concentrating on the task at hand. “You’re bleeding too.” “I know.” Tony said focused on examining the wound closer. He could feel the cut across the right side of his neck throbbing in perfect meter to his heart beat. But he ignored his own needs in favour of Toya’s. “You should maybe get Corporal Smith or Sykes to look at it.” Tony shook his head in the negative, and said a curt, “I’m fine.” He was busy making sure no large vessels or veins in Toya’s thigh were damaged. The smaller vessels would seal off by themselves once the wound was closed. Finally satisfied, Tony began stitching a second layer of sutures using catgut thread on the inside and on the outside. The natural material would eventually be dissolved and absorbed by Toya’s body, and the doctors at the base could remove the external stitches. A few minutes later Tony straightened up and began to gather his supplies. He bandaged the wound and then instructed Toya to get dressed. “You wouldn’t want the men to talk, after all.” He said, jokingly; he had no sexual feelings for the heterosexual, dark-haired soldier at all. Toya agreed with a grin and pulled on his damaged pants. “Uh…Doc?” He gestured to the large tear in his pants. Tony sighed and quickly used up the last bit of his catgut to sew up the hole. By the time Tony was done attending to Toya, the fight for the gun turrets was over and was, thankfully, successful. He and the other two medics quickly scoured through the platoon and checked out the men. As well as Graves, five other American soldiers had died in the battle, and there were ten injured. Four soldiers had major wounds. Those men Tony dispatched to the battalion aid hospital located twenty miles to the south, sending Corporal Sykes with them. There were six men with minor wounds remaining, and Tony and Corporal Smith would care for them. It was only after all of the soldiers had been attended to, that Tony agreed to let Corporal Smith stitch up his neck. “No.” Tony gently grabbed the corporal’s wrist and stopped him from freezing the wound. “Save it for a real emergency.” He dropped Smith’s wrist and said, “Just stitch it up, and make them small, Smith.” Corporal Smith shrugged and did as he was told. He was a little nervous to be working on the higher ranking medic, but the young soldier kept his hand steady, and, soon enough, he was tying off a neat row of seven stitches. Smith pulled out a small bottle of morphine and showed it to Tony, who shook his head, no. The younger man sighed. Personally, he would have taken the pain medication, but who was he to argue? Tony sat in the passenger seat of an army jeep, legs dangling over the side of the vehicle as Corporal Smith worked on him. Over the medic’s shoulder, he could see his grim-faced lover talking with Sergeants O’Reilly and McNorris. Every so often, Nick would throw a hard glance at him and then turn back to his men. Tony saw the angry looks, but chose to ignore them. He was sure that what ever was on the Captain’s mind, his lover would be sure to find him later and let him know just what it was that had him scowling so.
Nick waited until the young corporal was done working on his lover’s shrapnel wound before approaching. He was angry at Tony for just rushing out onto the field of battle. Logically, he knew that was what his lover’s job entailed, to go to wounded men when he was called. But it had scared Nick to see the man he loved just get up and go like that, with no second thoughts or hesitations. In addition, the man had been grazed by a bullet and completely ignored it until three hours after the fact. Nick found that completely unacceptable, and he intended to let Tony know it. “Lieutenant Edwards,” Nick said, striding over as the young medic was leaving. “Captain,” was all Tony said, standing up and facing his angry commanding officer; his angry lover. “I need a moment of your time. Get in the jeep,” Nick ordered, far more sharply than he had intended too. Tony’s eyes opened at the gruff command, then he saluted and did as he was told. Nick stepped around the front of the jeep and got in. He started up the noisy vehicle and started down the road. There was an abandoned farm house five miles up the road, and that’s where he was going, knowing that there were no soldiers from any of the platoons in the vicinity. The whole time the two were in the jeep neither man spoke. Nick was trying to reign in his anger, and Tony figured that this was *Captain Winters’* show. After fifteen minutes of driving over deeply rutted roads, Nick finally reached an abandoned farmhouse. He pulled the jeep into a stand of trees, hiding it from the eyes in the sky. He shouldn’t be here alone with his medic; it was dangerous in more ways than one, but he just had to be alone with Tony, had to try and talk some sense into him. Tony sighed heavily and got out of the jeep. He was tired; the adrenalin rush of earlier events had drained him, and the side of his neck throbbed painfully. He was almost regretting not letting Smith freeze it, but there was nothing to be done about that, now. As for being tired, Tony wondered why recent events did not seem to affect Nick in the same way, then again, the soldier was experienced and had seen action before this campaign, so being in battle, after all, really was nothing new to him. “Let’s go inside,” Nick said. This time his voice was gentle. “All right.” Tony turned away and started towards the small shack. Nick preceded his lover and, cautiously, with his side arm drawn, stepped through the door. Even though this area had been cleared, that didn’t mean there couldn’t be an intruder hiding inside. Tony followed, and as soon as he had closed the flimsy door, Nick shoved him hard into it, shaking it behind Tony’s back, although it did not give way. Nick casually holstered his weapon, then, without provocation, lurched forward and mashed his lips to Tony’s, in a brutal, primeval kiss. He reached down and found his lovers wrists and, grabbing them, pulled them up tight over Tony’s head, pinning them there. Tony could feel his lover’s erection through the many layers of heavy cotton and wondered where all this had come from; fighting sure as hell didn’t make *him* horny. As quickly as the kiss had begun, it was over. Nick pulled back and stared into Tony’s deep green eyes, panting heavily, keeping the arms pinned. “Don’t you ever do that again!” warned Nick, pushing his groin into Tony’s. Tired of the overly aggressive act, Tony fought with Nick to pull his arms down and finally succeeded. He pushed Nick away and rubbed at his wrists. “What the hell are you doing?” Tony shot back, not afraid of his lover’s rank. “And what are you talking about?” He scowled, stepping away from the door and headed into the kitchen area, where there was still daylight. The glass had long since been blown out, and a ragged window curtain flapped gently in the soft breeze. Tony stood in front of the sink and gathered his thoughts. “Tony I’m sorry…” started Nick. “It’s just when I saw you get up and run into the battle like that, I was petrified. Then O’Reilly got up, screaming that you’d been shot too, then he went berserk…” Tony sighed heavily and turned around to face his lover. “Listen Nick. You have your job to do, and I have mine. That’s just the way it is. You can’t protect me all the time, and I don’t want you to. You look after your men and yourself, and I’ll take care of myself. When I’m called, I gotta go, Nick. That’s all there is to it. If you can’t accept that fact, or if it’s too distracting for you to have me in your unit, I’m sure General Rice will transfer me out...” “NO!” Nick stepped up close to Tony, then more gently he said, “No transferring; that would be worse for me.” “Worse for you, hey?” Tony cast a tiny frown at his lover. “You know, I feel the same way about you running into battle, Nick. Only I keep those feelings to myself, and you need to do the same, or the guys in the squad are going to figure out that something is going on between us. You don’t fawn over the other men like you do me.” “I’m sorry,” Nick apologized. “This is all so new for me. I guess I just have to get used to things.” He wrapped his arms around Tony and boosted the large man to the counter top. “I’ve never been in love with a soldier in my command before.” “I should hope not,” Tony remarked lightly, allowing himself to be placed upon the counter. Nick fingered Tony’s wound softly. “You scared me, Tony.” Tony closed his eyes and leaned his cheek toward Nick’s stroking hand, experiencing déjà vu again. Nick’s rough fingers stopped moving, and Tony opened his eyes. “What?” Shaking his head, Nick said a quiet, “Nothing. I need to make love, Tony,” he said, leaning in and capturing Tony’s plump lips.
The jeep sped back to where the rest of Easy Company was camped. Each man’s mind was on the sex that they had just had. Tony had allowed Nick to make love to him as he perched precariously on the unstable counter top. He had felt his lover’s need to possess him, if only for a few short, fervent minutes. Nick was afraid and needed to ‘have’ Tony to reassure himself. Tony understood the psychology of that, but then, right after the love making, he had ordered his commanding officer to stop treating him differently, and Nick had reluctantly agreed. Tony had declared to his lover that he would not always allow himself to be on the receiving end of the lovemaking. That the next time they were together, Nick would be the one to be on the bottom, and Nick had flushed slightly, then agreed huskily, for the thought of Tony ‘in charge’ of him was an unexpected turn on. Now they had weeks, maybe even months to anticipate the next time they could make love; both men looked forward to it.
Patrick McNorris had been in charge of the men in Nick’s absence. He’d made sure that the men had eaten and repacked their supplies before hunkering down to rest until the Captain and the Lieutenant returned. As McNorris sat beneath a tree, relaxing, he thought about the Captain. It was apparent to the Sergeant that the Captain was attracted to Lieutenant Edwards. He’d seen the way Nick had kept diverting his gaze to where the lieutenant was, and McNorris knew those looks for what they were. The sergeant had an uncle, and his uncle had a ‘friend,’ and the two older men lived together in a farm house in the middle of Oregon. Patrick had loved to visit his uncle there when he was a kid and though the men were never overt in their affection for each other in front of him, he knew they shared a bed. The two old men looked at each other the way the Captain and the Lieutenant did. In deference to his favourite uncle, McNorris would keep the soldiers’ secret. He doubted any one else in the platoon had even picked up on the subtle signals the two men gave each other.
CARENTEN - JUNE 1944: Bullets rang all round Tony; He had been cut off from the rest of the platoon when he’d stopped to help a downed soldier, unfortunately, it was to late for the young man; a bullet to the head had cut off his life prematurely. A projectile passing by Tony’s red-cross marked helmet reminded him that Germans tried to take out the medics first. He stuffed the corporal’s dog tags into a pocket and ran for cover. A mortar exploded just minutes after Tony had vacated the open spot; he leapt over a garden wall as the explosive hit, showering him with bits of cobblestone. Realizing that he was going to have to fight his way back to the squad, Tony pulled his sidearm and leaned against the cool bricks, calming himself. To his left, he saw the there was a small hole in the wall so he quickly crawled there, knowing it would be safer to shoot from that location. He peeked through the opening and saw two German soldiers approaching fast; they must have realized he was there. Tony took aim and, to his surprise, managed to shoot the helmet off one of the soldiers with his first bullet. The young soldier was startled, and he stood still for just a fraction of a second long enough, Tony fired again and took down his target. It was then, that he realized the soldier he had just killed was a mere boy, no more than fifteen or sixteen. The look on the blond boy’s face as he fell was burned into Tony’s mind; shock, giving way to fear. It was all the medic could do to not get up and run to the fallen soldier. Tony knew it was impossible, that he couldn’t save the enemy’s life, and it was right then that he realized it was not so easy to take the enemy’s life either. As he readied himself to try for the other advancing soldier, a grenade exploded where the other young warrior was crouched down, killing him instantly. Surprised by the grenade explosion, Tony looked back over his shoulder. He saw Corporals Fallin and Pincher scrambling towards him on their hands and knees, trying to keep their bodies hidden behind the low wall. “Captain sent us back to find you, Doc,” Fallin said, with a South Boston accent. “Follow me, we’re this way.” Fallin smiled and turned, leading the way.” “Won’t do anyone any good if you get yourself killed, sir,” Pincher reminded, as he prodded Tony on towards safety. Later on that night, Tony sought out Nick, who was bunked down in a semi-private tent a few hundred metres from the rest of the men. It was his makeshift intelligence headquarters, and at that moment, Nick was heavily involved with Colonel Winston, receiving his orders and then handing in his casualty reports along with the proper requisition forms for ammunitions and food supplies. Actually, it was a young clerk in Nick’s squad who filled in all the forms and reports, Nick just signed where the corporal told him too. Tony paced back and forth outside the tent, far enough away from the entrance that he could not overhear what the men were saying inside. Finally, the Colonel walked out and climbed into a waiting jeep with a driver. As he pulled away, Nick stuck his head out of the flap and saw his lover pacing agitatedly back and forth. He called out, “Lieutenant Edwards.” Tony heard his name and turned around. Nick beckoned him towards the tent. Inside, Nick turned to the clerk and said bluntly, “Dismissed, Ashton, go find yourself some grub and get some sleep; we pull out at 0h-five-hundred hours.” “Yes Captain,” replied the corporal, energetically. He was leaving the tent just as Tony was entering it. Tony stepped aside and let the much smaller man pass. “What’s on your mind?” Nick asked, pouring some water into his steel mug. He walked over to the flimsy door and threaded a metal hook through an eye, sealing the two men alone, inside the tent. Tony sat on a small folding stool and ran his fingers through his dirty hair. He sighed heavily. Finally he looked up into his lover’s eyes and said, “I killed a man today. |