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Dawn came slow and cold over the German countryside on the seventh day of March. The snow was still deep, the bitter cold a constant struggle, but warmth was starting to tinge the winter rays of sunshine and give in to something resembling spring. The thaw was coming and with it the gloom of the past months was lifting into a late change of seasons. But all it really did was shed more light on the gruesome aftermath of a world war still raging. The relentless but waning efforts of the German army was finally, Sergeant Don Collier sensed, reaching a close. But a whole lot of people he knew would have to die first. Such was the way of war.
It made moments like this something to appreciate all the more. The brief breaks, the moments of laughter, the things that kept a man going. When opportunities for something like that came, for a break in the carnage, Don was never one to overlook it. They had to take what they could and hold onto it through all the rest. So when it became clear that they needed to send Fury to get an overhaul and regroup and gather some supplies, Don allowed Grady, Gordo, and Red to take Fury further west just a few miles to do just that. There was a town that was pretty much the most safely occupied place currently inhabited by American troops and he knew his crew wanted to stretch their legs, relax, and let off some steam.
The mechanical issue had made itself clear when they’d stopped to check an abandoned, German estate house. It was maybe a few bedrooms and a few bathrooms big with a servants quarters, two floors, and an expansive but empty kitchen. The plan had been to push further east and receive new orders but with that now impossible, Don saw a very rare opportunity for a brief respite. Even if it was only for a day. Because come light they’d have to get moving again - that was if the more specialized mechanics the town over could fix Fury that quickly. He was imaging so. Either way they’d be out again come the next sunrise.
His relationship with Boyd was something unspoken among the crew. They didn’t voice it, didn’t speak of it and ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ firmly applied. Don didn’t treat anyone any differently and they didn’t treat him differently either. He’d been pleased to note that it hadn’t affected the tank crew seemingly in the slightest. But it was definitely why they didn’t question when Don announced that Red would assume temporary command and him and Bible would stay behind and wait for their return.
Don knew the officer in command in the town over. And he knew Captain Carson pretty well. The man knew he didn’t like to take part in much of what other men like to do for rest and relaxation. He knew he didn’t care for the drinking, the gambling, or the women and he knew Don generally preferred to keep to himself and a vigilant eye on his men instead. So he’d take into account without question that Don had stayed behind to go over the plan for the next week with his second and his gunner. And that was all that needed to be said. He didn’t ask any of his men to lie and he didn’t ask them to keep secrets. And they wouldn’t have too.
He had made it well aware, after they’d started giving Bible more shit than usual, that if they kept on and outed them both that Don wouldn’t be their commander anymore. That Fury’s crew would be forcibly split up and if they wanted that than so be it and keep acting stupid enough to tell the whole world. It had promptly shut everyone up. And business had resumed as usual.
Nothing was different and nothing had changed. And Don didn’t play favorites.
And as his feet touched down on German soil for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he got his bearings as he looked up at Red from the turret, leaning against the Fury with a hand on her armored hide. “You take her straight west. They got a radio in there. I gave you the code. Let me know when you get to the town and when you’re coming back.”
“You got it, boss.” Red said.
Boyd followed after, Red giving him some room, carefully climbing off the tank with army issue bag in hand. Don had already taken his out and it was waiting by his feet. “You got the maps?” he asked Bible.
“Yes I do.”
Don reached out and patted his leg as he came down, pointing up at Red with the same hand. “You keep Grady out of trouble. I don’t want to hear about it from a ranking officer this time. Trusting you, Red.”
“I take full responsibility for that last time, sir.” Gordo said, a little chagrined, squinting at him from the open driver’s hatch.
Don turned the pointed finger at him before dropping his hand, “Damn straight you do.”
Giving the M4 Sherman a pat, Don reached down for his duffel and stepped away from the Fury. “You boys have fun. Give me a shout when those repairs are finished.”
“Yes, sir!” Red said, giving him a two fingered salute. He had to practically shout over the roar of the engine as it came to life. Neither Bible nor Don didn’t even blink or cough as a steady blast of smoke and carbon monoxide filled the air as the machine rumbled to life.
It was the first time him and Boyd would be well and truly alone. If even for just a part of a day, a night, it would be the first time since they’d met that they wouldn’t be surrounded by the American military and Fury’s crew. It was practically unbelievable.
Don paused in the doorway to watch the backside of Fury as it left, Red staying up top to navigate out of the turret. They were at risk anywhere, didn’t matter how occupied an area was by the United States. But this was as safe an area as most. Don wasn’t intending to let down his guard, he didn’t know if he’d ever know how to do that again, but some part of any soldier had to force themselves to do just that.
“They’re in good hands.” Bible said, shouldering his duffel bag and heading through the door past Don, giving Fury a glance himself and his commander a firm pat on the shoulder. But that was all he spared Fury, already well inside the estate house.
Don followed him after a pause, agreeing with his statement. Red was oldest of the Fury crew besides himself, older than Boyd even and in this war that was a rarity. Men rarely lived to be veterans but that’s what his entire crew was and he could trust them more than anything. If he could trust anyone it was them. They weren’t kids and he couldn’t remember a time they ever were. Boyd maybe. When he’d gotten him for the Fury crew he’d been fresh out of tank school but he’d still been approaching his thirties.
Letting go some of the tension Don found a smile, forcing himself to relax as much as he could and just let the stress of everything go. He’d been called out once or twice for liking to ‘play house’ instead of half the trouble the military boys got into when they had down time. He liked the simple domestic matters over the drinking and sleeping around. Call him too controlled of a man but he hated becoming unhinged. And as a commander he especially didn’t have that luxury in a place of authority as he was.
“Hey!” Bible called from the other room. “Found some American records. Go figure.”
As Don took steps into the house after locking the front door, leaving his duffel bag by Boyd’s, music filtered through the estate house. A female American singer he didn’t recognize even if her voice was hauntingly beautiful. But if she was popular or not he wouldn’t know it. The war was a whole other world in and of itself. A hell on earth. They didn’t often hear about what was going on elsewhere, least of all at home.
“Play house, put your favorite records on-”
Don gave Boyd a look and the man gave him a wry, amused half smile. “Uh huh. Thought you’d like that.”
“Smart ass.” Don smiled. Boyd just chuckled.
It was ironic. It really was and he knew it. Don was unquestionably into men. He’d never been attracted to women and trying to force himself hadn’t even been possible. Certain parts of his anatomy had refused to even take part in the charade. But he did like simple, domestic actions. Watching someone make him a meal was soothing, comforting. It appeased the man in him. Maybe he liked to play house but he figured all men, deep down, did. But he knew he’d never have a wife.
“What are you looking at?” Bible smiled, tossing his jacket over the couch. His voice was gentle, not teasing. Not abrasive. He was intelligent, usually soft spoken, a southern gentlemen in many respects. Everything that appealed to Don and more. He’d never thought it was possible to have a relationship with a man and love one so deeply until Boyd.
“You.” Don smiled, meeting him at last in the center of the room.
“You make me crazy, you make me wild-”
Boyd’s expression softened even though the smile held and wordlessly, he held out his hand to the tank commander, which Don took. Slipping his hand into Boyd’s and immediately stepping into his waiting embrace - Don took the lead, he always did, easing them into a steady, easy rhythm that matched the music, tucking an arm firmly around the man’s waist as their bodies came flush together.
Leaning close, he breathed deep, letting his eyes fall closed. Taking in the smell of Boyd, the barely noticeable days old cologne, the sweat, the smell of war, everything beneath that was unquestionable male. It soothed him deep down, relaxed tension he didn’t know he had. The warmth of his hands, always so warm, one in his hand, the other against the small of his back. Even the wedding ring Don had never asked him to take off was a strange comfort.
“I don’t even know what I’m saying, but I’m praying for you. You make me crazy, you make me wild-”
Boyd was taking him in just as much as Don was him and Don wondered at the rare privilege he had now, in his arms. He took in everything he could, soaking in the moment and letting it settle in soul deep. He took in every detail, every sense of the moment. He’d do that for every moment to come until this time between them was over because more than anything they needed it. And they’d need to hold onto it in the days to come until the war finally decided to end. Even after the war they may not get a chance to have this. But it was hard to believe a love this deep, this completing, this right could possibly end. Could possibly be just a war time fling.
Don lifted his head back just a little but before he could open his eyes, he felt a tender, slow kiss and the brush of a mustache against his face - next to the corner of his mouth, just over a scar. It was impossibly tender, so full of love it that it made his chest ache and he let out a soft exhale of wordless pleasure as they continued to dance. The song was coming to an end but he could barely bring himself to stop.
He didn’t often say it but the moment demanded no less that he try. His voice was hushed, just a little rough when he said to the man in his arms. “I love you.”
“Like an American.”
Boyd stopped dancing, not enough to be abrupt, but the arms that immediately came around him and held him close were warm, strong, and loving. Boots touching, Don held him back just as close, reaching up to put a hand firmly on the back of his neck. He didn’t ever want to lose this. He couldn’t stand to lose this. It would break him more than any war possibly could.
“I love you too, Don.” Boyd murmured in his ear and his voice almost broke with emotion.
Don felt himself break just a little too. But in the best way ever.
The song came to an end and the scratch of the record was the only sound in the silence before Don eased away, resting his forehead against Boyd’s a moment and breathing through the chest constricting amount of love he was currently feeling, holding the man’s face in his hands, Bible’s hands firm and warm on his hips.
Bible felt so impossibly much that sometimes Don felt a flicker of guilt for making him feel so much between them. But he waited until he sensed he’d gathered himself a little, the other man withdrawing with a quick breath. And he’d definitely needed the moment too. “We should probably eat something.” Don murmured.
“Yeah.” Boyd sounded at least a little gathered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll see what I can fix up.”
Don let his eyes fall closed a moment and when he opened them, impossibly deep brown eyes were looking directly back at his own, eyes connecting in that single instant. And suddenly Don didn’t give a single damn about food. His eyes flickered to Boyd’s lips of their own accord and that was the end of both of them. When he met his gunner’s eyes again, the same amount of lust and desire was reflected right back at him.
But the moment was interrupted rudely by his stomach, making it known that Don hadn’t eaten since he didn’t even remember when. He’d given his last rations to his men and had been skipping meals to keep them fed over the last few days. Bible had been pushy about giving some of his portions to Don but the tank commander had only accepted a bite here and there, mostly refusing. Combine that with a lack of cigarettes lately and Don’s stomach was making it’s emptiness loud and clear.
Don groaned in frustration over Boyd’s laughter, the incredibly rare sound forcing a smile out of him despite the irritation he felt at the horrible timing. He felt Boyd put a warm hand against his stomach and opened his eyes, giving him a long practiced and skilled look of long suffering. “I’m hopeless.” but his anger was mostly gone. He couldn’t possibly stay angry watching Boyd laugh, to see his smile, if even for a moment. It was beautiful. The laugh lines around his eyes, the way his face lit up, the way the lingering darkness that followed him around lifted like sunshine. Beautiful. And the sound was just as good.
“Come on.” Bible chuckled. “I’ll see what I can fix up.”
Don followed Boyd out of the room, already missing his touch, his warmth, his body when it left his. But the promise of food was what made him follow. That and he’d follow that ass absolutely anywhere.
“Checkin’ out my ass, Don?”
“Can I help it?” Don returned.
“Wouldn’t stop you if you could.”
Don chuckled, pulling out a dinning chair and sitting heavily into it as Bible continued on to the kitchen. He’d wash up before they ate, find something resembling heat in the building even if it was probably putting logs over a fire. He didn’t exactly want to risk the smoke but out here it wasn’t like anyone would notice anything amiss. And although spring was late it definitely wasn’t here yet. They’d need something.
They had a quiet meal together. They’d both washed up before eating, Don after he’d brought some firewood in from the storehouse and Boyd just before the meal was finished. Red did a lot of the more serious cooking but the MREs provided by the army didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out. Luckily they were saved by some passing neighbors or they would have been eating the last of those and would have probably gone to bed hungry. The young couple had seen the smoke from the fireplace, the tank arriving previously and had given them eggs, some meat and bacon and potatoes. They’d been even more shocked that Don spoke fluent German. But Don had thanked them, learned that they were more than a bit grateful for the Nazis being driven out, and had seen them out the back door.
Even if the Nazis were gone they were paranoid and didn’t want to be seen with the US troops. Don figured. Generally they were left well and alone and avoided like the plague. If anything the war didn’t make him hate Germans. It made him hate the Nazis and Hitler and the atrocities they were doing to their own people. That only proved how unspeakably evil they really were.
Boyd never called him out for appreciating the quiet, domestic life whenever he could have it. Never made fun of him like some of the men rarely dared. If anything he amused him. He’d cook for him, seemed to take pleasure in doing small things for his commander if they were alone like helping him wash, picking up, doing chores. More than anything Don liked to watch. It was soothing. Calming. It was a piece of a life he wasn’t sure he’d ever have which made him even more grateful for the small moments. But while he enjoyed watching a woman do the same it wasn’t about the gender. It was the acts themselves.
They washed dishes side by side even if they didn’t have too. Even if the residents were long gone and no one was expecting manners in this war. Least of all in this hell. But Don just couldn’t leave his behind and Bible was a true southern gentlemen. It was one of the many reasons he loved him. His manner, his culture, his intelligence. His quiet reserve, gentle nature, and easy going composure. He loved how deeply he felt, how easily he could be moved to tears. His quiet, steadfast strength. Boyd was a constant and Don loved structure.
To show him his appreciation, both for cooking and for setting out the washing and cleaning it up without word or complaint, among everything else, Don decided to indulge himself in something that was another luxury out here. Time together alone like this was infinitely precious. They’d never had this much time alone together in all their three year history.
Boyd was leaning against the sink, hands on the thick porcelain veneer, Don standing close in front of him - their boots nearly touching. The sun was rising over the German countryside and Boyd looked especially good in this light, enjoying the warmth of the sunshine, something he knew the lieutenant liked.
Don didn’t say anything, but neither men usually needed a word. Not between them. And wordlessly he reached for Boyd’s belt, never leaving his eyes for a second as he deftly unlatched the buckle and reached for the zipper. Boyd himself was scarcely breathing, quiet, eyes dark with desire and Don took in the sight of him, every inch as he slowly eased to his knees at his feet. Imperceptibility Boyd seemed to sway a bit where he stood as Don lowered himself to the pale clay tiled floor, reaching for his shoulders. They weren’t wearing jackets and Don briefly closed his eyes in pleasure as his gunner’s supple, strong fingers, dug briefly into tense muscles and then up across his mostly shaven head and then the spiked, thicker hair down the middle.
He opened his eyes and the sight of Boyd standing above him was enough to render him as speechless as he already was. But that was okay. They didn’t need words. Never had.
Boyd pulled his hands away with seeming reluctance, the touch lingering and giving Don chills. The man didn’t make Don wait a single second from the moment he was on his knees and he reached into his military issue tan boxers and took out his already hardening cock, spreading his feet apart and standing more solidly from where he was leaning on the kitchen sink, taking in a short breath seemingly to steady himself. Their eyes never lost contact but Don’s mouth did go a little dry with desire when he saw Boyd’s cock out of his periphery.
He loved it. He loved everything about it and the man that it belonged too. He loved the taste, he loved the act of it, he loved the feeling of his mouth stretching around the hard meat and length of the man. He loved the hardened strength, the pre-come a dick would reward ones efforts with, and he loved the conclusion most of all despite how much he’d never want it to end. Don loved sucking Boyd’s cock with a passion that defied most measurements and he wasn’t ashamed of admitting it to himself.
Don’s face found an open hand and he leaned into it, the warmth, breath catching as Boyd’s eyes, truly the windows to his soul, caught with love and something close to amazement. He looked momentarily overcome and the feeling was pretty mutual. And he didn’t have to say it, they really never had to say it. One look was enough, one word was assurance, was love, was affirmation of that love without uttering a single sound.
Don lowered his eyes at last from Boyd’s and settled his hands on the man’s hips, letting out a soft breath of pleasure at the hardening cock waiting for him. Boyd immediately reached down and took it by the base, settling his feet just a bit wider apart, the other finding the back of Don’s head and resting there warmly. With him holding it, Don easily took the length and head into his mouth, groaning immediately at the sensation. Boyd himself let out something close to a whimper, he heard it in his breathy exhale. Don immediately sucked, unable to stop himself, eyes falling closed as he took it further into his mouth and down his throat before pulling back easy and slow, reveling in the hardness which was only getting harder by the minute. It was practically fully erect now, didn’t take much and Don worked his mouth around the shaft, sucking firmly but not too hard.
Boyd was as sensitive physically as he could be emotionally and spiritually, responsive, electric under his hands and touch. Don could feel the tension in his legs and hips as he held back, politely still, always polite. The hand on the back of his head didn’t even exert the barest amounts of pressure, a thumb stroking against the base of his skull as gasping, whispered words of affection fell from his lips when he could find the English language. Don bobbed his head over his steel hard erection, tongue pressed to the base of the shaft, and lips firmly encased around the girth.
What Boyd lacked in length he made up for in circumference. He was about four inches but he had to be just that around fully hard. His thick cock was perfection to Don, who could take all of him into his mouth and down his throat with enough effort, the perfect length, the perfect width to make his jaw ache pleasantly after enough time. Give him pleasant reminders of this hours later, especially shouting orders in the Fury. A lingering reminder of love shared, given, and received.
Don took him deep, easing him all the way inside, fighting back his body’s natural gag reflex. He groaned at the feeling, the taste, and the way Boyd’s hips jerked in his hands and he gave a ragged groan himself from above, full balls drawn up tight pressed against his chin, nearly slumped over.
“Don!” he cried out and Don took mercy on him, pulling back for air himself and taking in a lungful. Just in time to catch some pre-come with his tongue, sucking his lips around the head and going back to it. He replaced Boyd’s hand with his own, holding him by the base of his shaft, stroking him in a fist while he sucked on the other half. Up and down motions, firm suction, knees pressed into the floor, gazing up at him and rarely leaving his eyes with his own. He was reveling in the feelings, the sensations, the stretch of his lips around his erection, his own achingly hard cock pressing insistently against the thick material of his pants.
Another hand free, Bible used it to brace himself on Don’s shoulders, gasps steadily coming from his lips now. Groans, words of love and praise. Telling him how much he liked it when he could manage words at all. He was struggling to hold himself completely still and upright but managing it, Don prolonging it as long as he could but he sensed his gunner was getting damn close. Pre-come was steady on his tongue now, he could feel Bible starting to tremble under his hands, the noises he were making were far more desperate and loud.
More than anything Don loved to be the one to make him come apart and then put him back together. And he wanted to do just that right now. They had time for everything else later. Right now Don absolutely couldn’t get enough of this.
“Aw fuck Don I’m gonna come. Jesus Christ-” Boyd groaned and Don shared it, removing a hand from his hip and fisting it in his shirt as he steadily worked Bible’s cock over with his mouth, faster now, as much as he wanted to keep it going forever. He took his hand away from his cock and only used his mouth, taking him in deep every single time, rapid up and down motions and firm suction on the way back up. Only to dive in deep again, tongue pressed firmly to the underside of his lover’s shaft.
He looked up, Boyd’s eyes met his, and it was right then that he came completely undone. His lover’s cock erupted inside his mouth, releasing it’s seed, Don groaning loudly in pleasure as the taste hit is tongue. Bitter, salty, perfect. Every drop he drank down, swallowing it, making the man groaning loudly, his cries echoing in the room as loud as shouts. Boyd couldn’t keep his eyes open, slumped over Don where he stood, cock spasming into the tightness and wet heat of his commander’s mouth until a long moment or two later he was entirely spent.
Don didn’t want to let him go. And for many moments he didn’t, reveling in the spasms and jerks of the body under his hand as his softening, over sensitized erection, released a bit more seed into his mouth. Finally spent.
Taking mercy on him, Don pulled away at last, but no matter how easy it still pulled a gasp from Boyd. Don moaned in response, pleased, immensely satisfied, the taste of his lover’s seed lingering in his mouth. He just couldn’t get enough of it and, a bit breathless, turned his eyes up to Boyd’s.
“Fuck I love you.” Boyd managed between gasps, his hands stroking over the back of his head and much more gingerly, his back. “Oh Don I love you so much. Fuck Don-”
He’d be more than okay with that later. And speaking of, Don stood, knees protesting as they left their stationary position on the hard floor. Boyd on reflex purely immediately helped him stand, both men leaning heavily into each other for a second, Don reaching out and pressing his lover’s hand to his own insistent erection in his pants as he pressed kisses to the man’s neck, face, and an exposed piece of skin along his collarbone.
Bible immediately groaned, pulling him in with a hand to the back of his head into a kiss that was nothing short of breath taking, soul searing, and passionate enough to make him see stars. Bible didn’t even hesitate to thoroughly ravage the confines of his mouth, Don meeting him back measure for measure, the taste of the man’s seed on both their tongues. It practically made Don weak in the knees and it was a wonder they didn’t just give out.
That same breathtaking, soul shaking, make ones knees weak type of pleasure is what led to Bible riding him right there in the kitchen on top of the dining table. A little help with supplies from their pack and the gunner stripped down to what he could spare and didn’t hesitate to ride him until he came, deep inside, holding him there until he was spent. And they were left rattled by the sheer force of their love for each other, in each other’s arms, holding on for dear life. By that time Boyd was hard again, well and hard, and they moved everything upstairs to the master bedroom where Boyd made love to Don, their passions stilled and gentled with both of them previously being satiated.
He took him at first on his stomach, in nothing but their dog tags now, the metal cool against each other’s skin. Don would only bare those scars to one man, one soul only and as Boyd took him deep and easy with measured strokes, he ran infinitely gentle hands over the expanse of his scars - scars deep, ugly and expansive but that didn’t stop him from touching them, kissing them, whispering loving words against the ruined skin. And just as their passion started to reach another peak, Boyd urged him over onto his back and took him into his arms, his eyes never leaving his as he made love to him sweet, slow, and just as deep. An all consuming type of love that robbed Don of the ability to form any words whatsoever in the face of it. Swept over, willingly and blissfully torn asunder by the passion of it, left awestruck and speechless, breathless in it’s wake.
All of it was heaven. Every single moment, every breathless second of passion, every spark of immeasurable pleasure, every touch and every whispered and uttered word. Heaven. Ironic from a man named Bible, perfect in every sense of the word.
And Don wouldn’t deny the bit of a breakdown they both had afterwords. Overcome, Don hadn’t been able to stop the silent tears and Boyd hadn’t either. They held each other and lent each other strength, Boyd whispering words of love to him and reassurance. Telling him there was no shame in coming apart like that. Not here. Not with him.
Don wished he could tell him the same, find words at all, so he used his hands where he couldn’t find the words to speak and hoped that was enough. And it seemed to be. The wordless understanding stretched here too, in the silence of an unfamiliar, abandoned bedroom made a temporary piece of heaven no man would ever forget, in the middle of hell war had made this place.
That following morning, as Don watched Boyd shave from a chair beside the bed over a washbasin, still nude and partially covered in bed covers, he asked him in so many words what he’d thought of before in passing moments to himself. He wasn’t exactly the most religious of men but Bible was. He was the spiritual heart and consciousness of Fury. And sometimes, in passing darker thoughts, Don wondered if he’d somehow corrupted him. If some part of Bible rejected the idea of their relationship because it was condemned by God. And the rest of the world
Boyd’s response was immediate. “And it came to pass, when he had made an end of speaking unto Saul, that the soul of Jonathon was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul.”
“Book of Samuel.” Don murmured.
Boyd gave him a smile as he made a pass with the razor over the left side of his jaw line. “I’m gonna convert you yet, Don Collier.”
“With words like that? Maybe.” Don admitted, even if he said it with a smile.
Boyd stopped what he was doing, half of his face shaved, the other holding the razor in the soapy water. “Are we hurting anyone with the intentions of causing them pain because we enjoy it?”
“No.” Don said immediately.
“Are we hurting each other because we like to cause each other pain?”
“No.”
“When you kiss me, does it feel wrong?”
“No.” Don said and the moment of silence that followed was deep.
“Does anything we do feel wrong, Don?” Boyd asked quietly into the silence that followed.
Don shook his head. “It feels right.” and he could say that without fail or the slightest hesitation.
“That’s because there’s nothing wrong with our love for each other. And loving you is as right a thing as I’ve ever done.”
A sharp intake of breath was at first all that he could manage, momentarily overcome, and Boyd’s hand reached out and immediately found his, leaning over the side of the bed and meeting his eyes intently with his own. All Don could do for a long moment was stare at the man in front of him in complete wonder. And although there was something suspiciously like tears in his eyes, he didn’t care.
Not a bit.
~FIN~