Author: Jenn (JD/stealthlamb)

Rating: Slash-NC-17

Warnings: This story contains some swearing and a consensual lovin relationship between two…maybe three men. <BG> Oh yeah, and it's my first TOD fic, so beware! Some grammatical errors such as double negatives are done on purpose. Its Zeke's POV.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Tour Of Duty. They are the sole property of Zev Braun and I make no money off of my work.

Summary: Myron comes down with malaria and Zeke takes on the responsibility of his care in the bush.

Authors notes: Sitrep: Situation Report. NDP: Night Defense Position.

TOC: Tactical Operations/Command.

Archive: Notes From The Underground; Anywhere else, ask first

Zeke's POV…

As if the bloody battles, disembodied screams, and clueless command calls from the 'higher ups' aren't bad enough in this nightmare. The mid-summer heat was stifling. Thick, moist and suffocating like a wet wool blanket pulled up over your face-heavy-preventing you from taking a single breath.

This place was *indeed* hell.

Heat brings around the mosquitoes and the mosquitoes bring around disease. That's where we stood. The mosquitoes were swarming and we were knee deep in 'em.

Half of the camp and third platoon were down with malaria when word came down for another mission. Doesn't Uncle Sam ever take a break? Well that ain't really fair-- Charlie don't.

Everyone was complaining. They all had somethin' to say. Shoulda' been saying it to Major Darling but being their Sergeant I'm the one that's gotta' hear it. I gotta' hear it so LT don't have to. He's going through it too an' don't need the added aggravation.

Everything the guys are sayin' to me, LT's already said to Darling on our behalf anyway, though he knew it wouldn't make no difference. Never does. That Darlin's a real prick. Seems to have it in for us grunts.

LT's coming this way an' I can see that he's pissed. He ain't lookin' too good neither and for him, that's a tough accomplishment.

Percell wastes no time in ambushing him before he can even speak. Can't blame him. He was just goin' to tell us that the mission was still on anyway, but still, Myron didn't need to hear it.

"Come on, LT. They can't be serious sendin' us out with a team of cherries! What if we make contact? Huh? Roo's down, Taylor, Ba…"

Myron closes his eyes and seems to tune him out. He looks like the weight of the world is restin' on his shoulders. It is… Our world anyway.

It's always LT's thankless job to dish out and take the shit. I Figure this time I'll step in an' give him a break. And he's sure lookin' like he could use it too, so before Percell can continue, I jump in.

"Can it, Percell. You know LT tried, didn't ya' LT? But Darlin' ain't havin' it. Gotta' meet his quotas for command ya' know." My voice is drippin' thick with sarcasm. "We're jus' gonna' have to th' best we can with what we got. So quit wastin' your breath and load 'em up."

As what's passin' for our recon team climbs into the chopper, LT shoots me a nod of gratitude. I'm sure he thinks it's just one a' those things you do for your C.O. without havin' to be asked, but with him there's more to it than that. I love the guy. I really do.

Sometimes I think he knows it too, but he'd never admit it. Neither will I.

First night in the bush is uneventful, no unusual sounds or silences and that's just fine with us. LT's getting' worse and the chills are startin'. He's tryin' his best to hide it. Thinks he's gotta' be tough but I know better. Know every quirk an' tell the guy has. Know what he does when he's pissed, upset, worried…know him better 'n 'ah know myself sometimes. Pay so much attention, he's gotta' know.

Callin' in the sitrep his voice starts to shudder. I go to him. Don't want it showin'--how much I really care but it'd be just as obvious if I didn't rush over. Everyone knows that I'm always lookin' out for him anyway. Lookin' out for all of 'em. But him especially.

He waves me off while he's finishing up with TOC so I just sit by watching him closely. He hangs up and looks at me.

"They're not happy unless we're giving them a body count."

His deep brown eyes are filled with frustration…tinged with a hint of anger. Take it all away from him if I could…If he'd just give me the chance.

"Sometimes I don't even think it matters if it's theirs or ours as long as someone's dying," he continues somberly. He sweeps off his hat and runs his fingers through his sweat soaked hair.

I stay silent. Gotta' give that statement the respect that it deserves because it's

true--least from my point of view.

"You okay, LT?"

He's really pale, looks drawn. His eyes meet mine and he knows he can't deny that he's sick. Not to me.

Smiling weakly, he sighs. "I'll live, Sergeant."

"Maybe," he adds as his smile gets bigger.

I smile back knowing exactly what he means. In this place you never know. It's a fine line between life and death.

I put a firm hand on his shoulder. "You need me, you just let me know now, okay?"

"I always need you, Sergeant," he says off handedly. His cheeks become tinted with a slight flush as he realizes the implications of his words but he immediately pulls the map from his pocket and starts to study it intently.

I don't let myself read into what he said, it's just one of those things. In the right context and situation I could twist it into my wildest dreams, but here, I take it for what it is. Just another word of thanks for pulling him out of the way of deaths grasp more times than either of us can count. 'Sides, I know he's already got someone.

I can dream though…

PART 2

For now it's business as usual so I go to make sure Johnson's keeping the cherries out of trouble. Sun's beginning to go down now and we'll have to be changing our NDP soon in case Victor Charles got a fix on us when we inserted.

Standard Operating Procedure States: stay in one place too long and your ass is grass. Okay, so that's not the way it's written in the manual, but it should be. If you don't move at night at least once after sun down, they can get a fix on your position and mortar you while you sleep. Like you really sleep in the bush.

We set up our second NDP next to the Perfume River in wagon wheel formation; everyone facing out and laying pretty close together. No one's gonna' sneak up on us tonight, though we don't think they would anyway. The base hasn't been hit in days, we haven't seen any fresh tracks on the trails and there ain't been no movement in the area.

San pan traffic on the river's been practically nil lately since the bombing runs. The VC

fled up to the mountains to re-group…or so we've been told. They probably won't be back for a week or so, so I'm pretty sure that we're not gonna' make contact. Course I'm not positive. That kind of overconfidence can kill.

The hours go by and it's dark, real dark. Two men take watch. From their position they can see across the valley for a few miles, so I'm not that worried. VC carry oil lamps that stick out in the blackness. Makes 'em look like giant fireflies movin' slowly through the jungle. We'd know if they were out there.

Takes another half an hour but the moon finally comes up illuminating the countryside. In its glow I can see LT's outline, he's asleep but I can tell he's restless. Everythin's quiet 'cept for those quick shuddering breaths comin' from him. Suddenly, I got a knot in my gut and

an overwhelming need to hear his voice.

"Hey LT?" He doesn't answer so I nudge him gently. His clothing is damp from perspiration and he sits up quickly, a little disoriented. I give him a minute to gather his wits about him and take in his surroundings.

"What is it, Sergeant?" he slurs, his strength slowly ebbing. The sickness is beginning to hit him hard. I know.

Under normal circumstances it wouldn't take more than a small gust of wind to wake him in the bush. Had we made contact, Myron's slow reaction time might get him self or one of my men killed. Once again I silently begin cursing Major Darling. LT shouldn't be out here as sick as he is. We ain't even got a medic on this one 'cause Doc's down with malaria like the rest of the camp, and now I know for a fact that so is Myron.

"LT, you're soaked to the bone."

He checks himself over as if he's just realizing it for the first time. His shirt's plastered to his body and he's beginning to tremble. He meets my concerned expression with a sheepish smile. "'S'bit chilly tonight…"

"Chilly? LT, It's gotta' be 90 degrees out here."

His breath is hitching now as the fever begins to catch up with him. He hunches over with his hands between his legs to control the shakes then lays down and curls around himself in the fetal position.

" Johnny didn't think that it was a good idea for me to come. I thought that he was just being over protective…"

"S'not like ya' had a choice, LT."

I take off my ammo belt and lay my rifle and grenades out next to me where I can get to them quick-like, then lay down next to him. His body yields to mine as I coil around him and I feel sort of guilty enjoying this closeness.

"And if you ever mention it I'll deny it, but I agree with McKay." He laughs lightly at that knowin' that I'm not too fond of John.

I take my trusty towel and pour some water over it from my canteen. "It's warm but it's better than nothin'." Briefly, he looks over his shoulder at me; those deep brown fevered eyes thanking me for the small gesture and all I can do is smile helplessly. It's not doin' much good. He seems satisfied with it though, and drifts off again, sleeping or unconscious, who knows.

A short while later he begins to mumble incoherently. Putting my hand on his forehead I can feel that he's burning up. The heat is emanating from his body and through his clothes and I know that his fever is spiking. He starts shakin' somethin' fierce and I'm at a loss for what to do next.

Johnson musta' heard the commotion 'cause he comes rushing over. Takin' one look at LT, he knows just how serious this can get. "Sarge, we gotta' find a way to cool him off."

"You got any suggestions?" My mind ain't working right. I'm probably letting my personal feelings get the better of me here.

He offers to call TOC and see if he can't arrange a first light extraction. 'Higher' doesn't like to extract before the missions over, but McKay'll come. Guy's a Godsend when it counts.

Johnson also suggests submerging LT in the river. Since The Perfume is constantly flowing it doesn't have a chance to warm up in the mid day sun or grow stagnant. That Johnson, man, he's gonna' make a hell of a Sergeant one day.

Myron's too weak to walk so I carry him, laying him on the riverbank. Gotta' strip him down so he's got somethin' warm and dry to put on when he comes out. I reach for the buttons on his shirt and for a brief instant he struggles.

"It's okay, LT, It's Zeke. Jus' relax an' let me take care of everythin'."

To my surprise he immediately does just that and allows me to remove his shirt. Fever's got a grip on him and his body is trembling. His skin tightens with goose bumps as a cool breeze caresses his exposed skin.

I make quick work of his boots and socks. His pants are next and I can't help my own shakin' now. I'm wishing that this was another time, another place and I could be taking this slowly; savor every minute as I inch his pants down those smooth, slim hips--but I can't. Gotta' focus on getting him into that river and bring his temperature down. I decide to leave his boxers on. If I take that step… I'm the one that's gonna' need the cold shower.

Gathering him up in my arms I notice that he hardly weighs anything at all. His body is limp, almost lifeless as I wade into the water.

"LT…Myron…" Gotta' prepare him. Cold water's gonna' be quite a shock to his system.

"Myron, I know this is gonna' be uncomfortable but I ain't got a choice so just hold onto me, okay?"

Slowly I lower him down and he gasps, his body writhing in agony. "Z-z-z-eeeek, oh God Zeke, it hurts."

He clings to me shivering like a newborn and I hate myself to be causin' him such pain. With one cupped hand I spoon up some water over his head, allowing it to flow through my fingers and trickle through his hair.

"S-sooo cold, Zeke."

"Shhh, I know, baby, I know."

I change positions so that he's flat against my chest, his arms dangling loosely around my neck. He's not holding himself up, just leaning up against me really, depending on me to not let him go and I continue to bathe him in the cool waters of The Perfume.

Now I've got one arm around his shoulders and the other around his lower back, just resting on the rise of his ass that is now exposed as the water weighs down his trunks. His head rolls back and I catch it in one hand and bring it back up. He's looking into my eyes and I detect a glint of shame at his weakness.

"Ain't got nothin' to be ashamed of LT. Jus' you an' me an' I ain't gonna' let you go for nothin', understand? Jus' think of it as slow dancin', " I add with a light smile, but he's gone again. His head tips forward and comes to rest in the crook of my neck.

He's probably not even aware of the awkwardness of the situation. He's not aware of much right now. I on the other hand am acutely aware of everything. Like how much I want him, his body and his skin. Those quiet little moans from the back of his throat are making my entire being ignite with intense passion and white hot longing.

I'm tryin' to push it aside, but because of the feelings that I have for this kid I'm feeling pretty damned self-conscious right about now, holding his naked body right up close to mine and feeling his hot breath on my neck.

Everyone's got to be starin' at us…reading my thoughts. They gotta' know about me. I wear my heart on my sleeve like a damned badge.

For as often as I've dreamed of this, you'd think that I'd want it to last forever but I'm counting the seconds 'til I hear the sound of McKay's chopper whooping down the valley to fly us to salvation. He's depending on me.

Johnson got the guys to up their sweat rags and is waiting on the bank to help me dry LT off. Takes all of my strength and will to bring him out of that water and lay him back down on the shore. I've never felt as close to this kid as I do right now.

Johnson starts up top with his face, neck and chest while I'm left with his lower extremities.

I pause. He's the one lying out here helpless and I'm the one feeling vulnerable. I'd laugh about it if Johnson weren't staring at me.

Johnson's starin' at me--and smiling. "'S'okay Sarge…"

He knows. He doesn't have to say anything else and he doesn't expect me to answer. He knows and he understands. Johnson hands me LT's shirt and then proceeds to dry the rest of him with clinical thoroughness, doing away with the wet shorts and getting him back into uniform.

His understanding is what I need to bring me back to my wits. Finally someone knows. It might not be just whom I want to know, but the acceptance from Johnson is a damn good start, freeing me up from my longing long enough to allow me to take control again.

I lay Myron back down with his head resting on my rucksack. He's coming in and out of consciousness, but the brief soak seems to have kept the fever down to a manageable high.

"Water?" Myron's voice is gravelly and course.

I bring my canteen to his lips and he grasps it with two hands. He's getting more of it down his chin and the front of his shirt than in his mouth, but that's probably a good thing. He shouldn't overdue it.

I lift his head and maneuver myself under him so his head is on my lap. I gently tip his chin up allowing the tepid liquid to flow easily down his throat. He nods when he's had enough, too exhausted to form the words.

'S'ow most a' th' night went. I don't move out from under him for fear of wakin' him up…'S'what I tell myself anyway. I don't want to move. Jus' want to stay right where I am, watching him, holding him while I still have the chance.

He looks so innocent when he sleeps. So peaceful and even younger, as if that's possible. I want to hold onto this moment for as long as I can--hold onto him.

PART 3

I settle in, supporting myself in the roots of a large tree with LT cradled between my legs and his head pillowed against my stomach. If I close my eyes this seems perfect.

I can picture us restin' on a beach somewhere, maybe Hawaii on R&R, the murmured sounds of a summer radio hangin' in the air, waves softly lapping against the shore line lulling us to sleep as the sun goes down around us…Of course, it can't last long. Johnson comes sneakin' over, bringin' me out of my reverie and practically scarin' the crap outta' me to boot.

"Sarge, TOC says that there's a storm front movin' our way and they probably won't be able to get any choppers in the air until the day after tomorrow."

"Monsoon season," I comment to no one in particular. Bein' here as long as I have, I've grown to expect it, loath it, but expect it nonetheless. "All right, have the men get their gear together and be ready to move."

"Where, Sarge?"

"I got somethin' in mind, jus' do it."

"When it rains it pours, huh Sergeant?"

I look down to see Myron smilin' weakly. "LT, you made a joke. Now I know you're sick." He laughs lightly. "You know if TOC says there's a storm comin', you can bet that any time now the sky's jus' gonna' open up and dump all over us."

"Yup."

We both stay silent for a minute or two jus' thinkin' 'bout what's comin' our way. Those torrential downpours…Man they're tough. Freezin' rain in the middle of a tropical jungle, soaked to the bone for days on end--gotta' piss yourself jus' to stay warm and now with the LT as sick as he is I know we gotta' find some cover and fast. Guess he knows it too…

"Aren't we just a couple of mikes from that abandoned concrete bunker that was left over by our friendly predecessors the French?"

"There's the LT I know and love, always thinkin'," I smile. "You musta' been readin' my mind." Hope he doesn't read too much further. I'd hate to haf' ta' explain the things that been runnin' through my head over th' last few hours.

"Johnson," I whisper as loud as I dare and he appears next to me in a flash. "Tell the men to police up the NDP. We're movin' out to an abandoned bunker across the river ASAP."

"Gotcha' Sarge." He looks down to see Myron awake. "How ya' doin', LT?"

"I feel like shit, Johnson, thanks for askin' though."

Johnson smiles, "well, you just hang in there, LT, we'll have you outta' here before the rain…"

At that very moment the sky jus' opens up and shits all over us. Within seconds the only sound for miles around is the thunderous clap of those dime size drops of water ricocheting off of the elephant ear and triple canopy jungle surrounding us.

"You were sayin'?"

Johnson smiles incredulously, clapping a hand across LT's shoulder then disappears to carry out his orders. "Think you can make it, LT?"

Myron sits up slowly. "No, but anywhere's better than here, Sergeant."

"Stay put 'til I get the men organized. I'll send them on ahead with Purcell on point and we'll pick up their slack." He doesn't argue. Jus' pulls him-self into a little ball restin' his head on his knees and waits for me to come back.

Johnson and I check the map and realize that we're right on the money as far as the bunker is concerned. It's not too far from us and I'm pretty sure that we can find it in the dark, so I feel confident as I send the men on up ahead. I return to LT and he's practically seizing he's

shakin' so hard in his rain soaked fatigues.

I reach down, loop my right arm through his left and lift him off the ground. He sways backwards almost takin' us both down and I realize that he's got as much chance of makin' it on his own as a snowball's got a chance in…well, in Vietnam.

I'll have to sling him and my gun over my shoulder if I plan on getting him across that river. With the fierceness of the rain, the current is really moving and it'd be easy to lose footing and get swept down stream.

I only stumble once as we're crossin' but it don't make much difference. In this rain you're drenched within the first fifteen seconds of precip anyhow.

When we near the clearing I call out quietly, "Hendrix is one of us," our little code to let our guys know when we're approachin' them so's they don't blow our heads off mistakin' us for gooks.

Johnson stands up in an overgrowth of 'wait a' minute' vines that mother nature has graciously provided to camouflage the trail that opens up to the bunker, and he helps me lower LT to the ground. "Take him inside and warm him up, Sarge. I already lit a ball of C- 4 inside the bunker. Me and the guys can deal with the rain."

I don't even say thanks. I jus' high tail it inside the bunker and lay Myron down by the pit containing the glowing ball of C-4.

I'm removing his clothes again but my minds on nothin' else but his health. He hasn't said a word in over ten minutes. I'm sure his body's goin' into shock, unable to handle the sudden and drastic changes in temperature it's goin through.

As quickly as I can I remove my own clothing and lay down on top of him, talkin' to him as I vigorously rub my body against his. "Shit, you hold on Myron, you stay with me damnit, you hear!"

He groans, his breath hitchin' with each shaky breath. "C-can't feel anythin', Zeke."

I wrap my arms and legs around him pulling him closer to the C-4. "You jus' give it a minute, kay? Johnson built us a nice 'fire' here, see?"

Thank god he turns his head to look. Least I know he's lucid. After a moment or two he begins to come around. His hair is still wet but the moisture cascading down his forehead and face are beads of perspiration, not rain, and the floor that he's lyin' on is damp from the leaky ceiling. I'm frantically lookin' around the bunker for anything dry that I can put underneath him when I see an old dusty tarp in the corner.

"Hang on a minute." I lean over, grab the tarp and lay it out by the C-4. Then I drag him over and lay him on top of it, wrapping it around him. "Better?" I ask as I lay back on top of him.

Rolling his head down to look between us, he raises his eyebrows. "Do I h-have to ask?" he shudders half laughing.

I feel my cheeks turn read and I hope that it's too dark for him to see. Or buy that it's just from the warmth of the "fire."

"Umm, body heat…I was tryin' to warm you up. Ya' see, you were freezing." I wait a second to see if he has any complaints, but he don't. "You want me to get off… I mean, up now?"

Myron laughs again, quietly, but it turns into a hellacious cough. I start to move away to allow him to sit up but he protests.

"Not yet." His lips are tinged blue and quivering. "God, I can't get warm."

I lay back down slightly askew on top of him and begin to rub his arms and shoulders a little more gently this time. My legs are entwined with his and I'm suddenly aware of his stiffness pressing against my thigh.

"I hope McKay ain't the jealous type," I say as he snuggles against me.

"Extremely," he sighs with a smile. "I won't tell him if you don't."

"Our little secret, LT. It don't mean nothin'," I trail off quietly, thinkin' he's already out.

"It does, Zeke." His answer startles me. His eyelids heavy as he tries to stay awake. "Means something to me." Within a few moments though, his breathing evens out and I feel his body relax as he gives in to exhaustion.

Filled with elated shock from what he's just said, I wrap a lose edge from the tarp around him and slide off of him a little more. With my heart pounding hard, I Rest my head on his bicep and close my own eyes.

While absently running the palm of my hand across his bare chest under the tarp, I repeat his words over and over again in my head. Soon though, I too give in to a much needed rest.

PART 4

I thought the sun would never come up and yet when I heard someone yell out that the chopper was coming I was dumbstruck. I look up from where I've been sitting vigil over Myron and I see that the sky is now kissed with a hint of purple where the night is being chased off by the light blue of the oncoming morning.

~When did that happen?~

Then, like an angel sent straight from the gods I catch a glimpse of Johnny McKay's chopper descending into our alpha oscar. Johnny sets down in an area that wouldn't hardly be classified as an LZ under the most dire of circumstances, but that's McKay for ya'.

He quickly unasses his chopper, grabs a poncho liner from the door gunner and comes running in our direction. Leaning over LT; his usual sarcastic grin now softened into a concerned stoic stare, he takes in Myron's appearance. He don't like the way LT's lookin'

either and without a word he gets right down to business, helping to get Myron wrapped up so we can carry him to the bird. He takes a minute to steal one more glance waiting for me to give him the okay for lift off.

Don't know why I never noticed it before, just how much Johnny loves the kid. All you have to do is look at him to see it. It's written all over his face. I'm wonderin' now if maybe I misjudged the guy. Anyone who cares that much about Myron can't be all bad, A little aggravating maybe, but not bad.

At the moment though, this doesn't mean much to me. I'm only thinking about how much time it's taking to get Myron some help. I know that Johnny is flying the propeller off of his bird but it feels like forever and a day 'til we were finally setting down at Tan Son Nhut.

When we do arrive, I jump out to see that all that is there to greet us is one damn nurse with a stretcher and no medical staff. I feel like I could scream. For a brief instant I'm glad that Johnson took the liberty of returning my car-15 to the armory 'cause I don't want to think of

what I might have done if I was still armed.

It's all a blur. I musta' freaked out though, 'cause Johnny felt the need to take a firm grasp on my shoulders, and the nurse, she's yelling at me to relax.

She goes about checkin' LT's vitals, his heart rate, pulse, pupil reaction, and temperature--she's tellin' me to calm down. Tellin' me that everyone's sick; it's an outbreak. They think that they've got it contained, but those who aren't sick are either tending to those who are or filling in abandon posts until some reinforcements can arrive. "It's a war after all," she says. Like I gotta' be reminded of that.

"What? A war? Really? Well thank you so much for lettin' me know that, ma'am. 'Cause here I thought we was on vacation…"

Luckily, she seems to understand where I'm comin' from and gives me an apologetic smile but I'm already regretin' what I said. Ain't like me to disrespect a woman but I guess since I found out that Myron's sick, I ain't been myself at all.

After supplying Myron with a hefty dose of Dapsone this sweet little red head tells us that either Johnny or me are now responsible for Lieutenant Goldman's care. The hospital's full and there's no available medical personnel to take over. Besides he's stable and all we can do is take him back to his hooch and make him comfortable until the meds have time to work.

She gives Johnny a slip of paper with some instructions and two vials of Dapsone, then turns to make her way across the compound leavin' me practically out of my mind. I just spent the last few hours thinkin' that I was gonna' lose one of my best friends in the whole

world to a fuckin' bug bite and no one gives a damn!

Nothin's makin' any sense to me, but in this place, nothin' ever does. "That’s it? That’s all you're gonna' do for him?" I'm yellin' after her, but next to me, there's Mckay, standing there as cool as a cucumber, grinning. I can't understand how he can be smiling at a time like this

but then I follow his gaze back to the stretcher and I see why.

Myron's awake. His eyes are peering back sleepily, but open.

"Mornin' sleepyhead," Johnny whispers.

"I feel terrible," he mutters back half conscious.

"See what happens when you don't listen to me." Johnny's smile is warm and comforting and his voice husky and sweet. "Come on then, let's get you home and into some warm jammies."

As Myron starts to roll off of the stretcher, Johnny reaches out to give him a hand up and he just falls into his arms. I stand back.

It hurts as I watch them walk away together, Johnny's arms around him, his head restin' on McKay's shoulder, but I force myself to leave. I don't belong there with them. Gotta' bring my focus back to the one friend that never lets *me* down after a stressful mission, the one that's always ready to keep me company on those lonelier nights, nights like this one's gonna' be. The friend that helps me forget what ails me, *my* support--that tall glass of whiskey jus' waitin' for me at the bar. I don't get too far, though.

"Anderson, where do you think you're going?" Johnny calls after me.

My emotions and strength are completely sapped at this point and I don't feel like dealin' with McKay's taunting. "Been a hell of a day, LT, I was going to grab myself a drink," I answer wearily.

"And leave me to take care of Myron all by my lonesome? I don't think so. Besides… You've done such a good job of playin' doctor with him so far…"

I can tell by the condescending tone in his voice that he's baiting me and not willin' to let me off. He knows that I want the boy, an' I know that he ain't mine to want. That's his territory, somethin' that we're always fightin' over with subtle remarks and stolen glances.

For a brief instant I'm thinking that he wants to get me alone so he can finally haul off an' hit me for what I been thinkin', and for what went on in the jungle. Heard Johnson tellin' him about it on the chopper on the way back to camp. Not everythin', but enough. If Myron was mine, I know I'd be pissed.

It's not Johnson's fault, he doesn't know about them. 'S'not like they go around publicizing that they're an item. Still, with the night I've had I'm way too frustrated to deal with Johnny right about now, and don't do too much to hide it, rank or no rank.

In a wave of confusion, frustration and exhaustion, I turn to face my tormentor. "Well Lieutenant, I just assumed …"

"You don't assume anything, Sergeant," he interrupts me boldly. There is a definite hint of sarcasm in his voice now. Johnny was never one to pull rank, especially on me. It wasn't some sort of unspoken respect between us like I had with Myron, it just wasn't the guys style. Now I know he screwing with me.

"You are going to help me get Myron back to the hootch and fix him up."

"Oh come on now, LT, I mean, Myron's *your* 'responsibility' after all," I say givin' in. Jus' tellin' him what he wants to hear so I can be done with it and get on with *my* life. Get to the bar, get fall down stinkin' drunk, stumble home and punch a wall. It's what I do. I've resigned myself to it already, like so many nights before… Myron's his, and I just can't handle the argument today

"Come on, Zeke, he's just as much your responsibility as he is mine. Besides, I've got a few bottles of scotch that I've been savin' for a rainy day."

Now I'm thoroughly confused and a bit stunned with McKay's little game. There's an undertone of softness to his order and I don't know what to make of it. And though I don't rightly remember giving them the order to move out, my feet start moving in the direction of their hootch.

When we get there, Johnny lays Myron down on his bunk and pushes his hair back with the palm of his hand. Myron smiles. He's still pretty out of it but I can tell that he's aware of McKay's presence and it seems comforting to him.

After a minute of silent communication between them and a look or two in my direction, McKay gets up and heads over to a cabinet by the bed and pulls out a bottle and two glasses. He pours us each a drink and hands me a glass, guzzling his down quickly.

I'm just starin' at Myron and Johnny's starin' at me. I catch him lookin' at me and I suddenly feel an extreme sense of vulnerability. His expression is more serious than I've ever seen it before and I think I know what's comin'…. Boy, I couldn't have been more wrong.

PART 5

Johnny approaches me and I swallow hard, almost wincing as his hand nears my face but instead of sluggin' me as I'm expectin', the back of his fingers gently bristle across my cheek. His hand is trembling and he seems extremely self-conscious.

"You took good care of him, Zeke. Thank you."

I'll tell ya', a grenade couldn't a' floored me faster than that little gesture an' I find myself stumbling over my words. "Weren't nothin', LT. Anyone woulda' done the same for him."

"Yeah, but it wasn't anyone, it was you," Myron rasps quietly. "And that means a lot to me."

I glance over to the bed attemptin' to put on one a' my best 'shucks t'wern't nuthin' grins', but those heavy lashed lids and dark serious eyes are fixed on me, instantly breakin' down all of my defenses. Once again, McKay takes the initiative and his fingers gently bring my attention back to him as he tips my chin. "Means a lot to both of us, Zeke, to know that you're gonna' be there for him when I can't."

I'm too stunned to speak and silence briefly fills the hootch. Myron starts to sit up slowly, swaying a bit as his boots touch the floor. He's shivering, but a little more alert than before as the Dapsone works its way into his system and the movement immediately has McKay's

attention.

"Where do you think you're going?" Johnny hurriedly reaches forward ready to push Myron back down, half expecting him to want to go to debriefing or something, but instead I end up chokin' back a laugh as I see Johnny visibly brace himself as the boy's expression becomes stern and focused on him.

Obviously immunity to the young lieutenant's wrath doesn't come along with bein' his lover.

"Nowhere, but I thought I heard you say something about warm jammies…" He counters with a self-appreciating smirk, then begins to fumble around with the buttons on his shirt.

Johnny rolls his eyes while shakin' his head as he reaches into his dresser and pulls out a pair of light blue pajama bottoms. As he sets them on the bed, the two exchange a conspiratorial glance that was not missed by me an' I'm beginning to wonder jus' what I've gotten myself into.

McKay then turns to me with a twisted smile. "Why don't you help him get undressed while go see if I can find a wash basin and some towels."

"John." Myron's tone sounds oddly concerned.

Johnny holds his hand up silencing Myron. "Don't. I'll be back in a few minutes."

He sounds firm but choked up and I know I'm missing something. As McKay leaves the room, I look at Myron. "What was that about?"

Myron just shakes his head looking a little sad. I want to argue 'bout bein' left to do this again, helping him undress. Don't think I can handle it three times in one year much less two days, but McKay disappeared before I had a chance to say anythin'. There's definitely something up with that boy…

Myron pretendin' to be oblivious to it all or he's too sick to care. Either way, he's still trying to get his fingers to obey him and open his shirt with little success.

I sit down on the side of his bunk and reach for the button that was him such a hard time. He lets go---lets his arms fall to his sides as I go to work.

My eyes are glued to his chest. I know he's watchin' me, watchin' me undress him, his eyes studyin' me as I move from one button to the next. Finally it's done and I lean in close to him as I slide the shirt off of his shoulders. I pause a moment feelin' the moist heat emanating from his skin.

"I have to lie down, Zeke," he whispers suddenly into my ear. I sit up and he smiles sheepishly, that slightly crooked and boyish grin an' I'm wonderin' if he knows jus' what he's doin' to me.

I snicker shakily as I think about the night before in the bunker. "We gotta' stop makin' a habit of this LT, people are gonna' start talkin'. "

"Would it be so bad?"

I look up into his eyes taken aback. They're palyful, lustful and lookin' straight into my soul…Yeah, he knows. Always in control…

*Laugh it off. * I quickly remind myself that not only would McKay put up one hell of a fight for the kid… I know I would, but that McKay is also an officer and could just about make my life a living hell. "Now you’re the one that said that McKay was the jealous type, LT."

"I never said that it was me that he'd be jealous of, Zeke."

"Yeah," I laugh incredulously trying to let that remark slip by. Kid's got Myron, why on earth would he be interested in me. My hands begin shakin' as I continue to undress him.

He lays flat allowing me to go to work on his pants. I open the zipper and peel the pants back revealing his slim hips. He's so beautiful, his delicate frame and slight features are in such sharp contrast to the sheer strength of will that this kid exudes under fire.

I'm lost in every detail of him. He raises himself up so that I can slide his pants off. I know that I got to look him in the eyes before I drink in any more of his deliciously smooth flesh. It's already burned it into my mind anyway. I'd never forget an inch of *that* terrain as long as I live.

Still as that dark patch of hair is exposed my breath catches in my throat and I gasp aloud unable to control myself. It was different the night before; there wasn't time to take him in. There was just a desperate need to keep him warm and out of danger, but now there is just

desperation and need. So much so, that I barely notice that McKay is back and standing behind me.

Maybe it's not really that I'm just so drunk on the sight of Myron, the way his dog tags are hanging slightly askew across his chest or the way the chill in the air has caressed his exposed, fevered skin causing his dark brown nipples to peak. Maybe I'm just completely absorbed with the freedom that he is giving me with his body that's keepin' me from caring that the hands are slowly and carefully kneading my neck and shoulders. They feel so natural, tentative and unthreatening. Questioning, as if at any moment, at the slightest flinch they'll be gone.

I don't want that. They are waiting for an answer to an unasked question. So the bomb has been dropped….

PART 6

Propping himself up on his elbows, Myron is watching my every move trying to gauge my reaction as McKay maneuvers himself in front of me and sits down on the cot beside him. Slowly, he starts stroking his hand across Myron's rib cage and belly.

I note his body language as McKay keeps his back to me. His discomfort is apparent and Myron catches my gaze as if to say, 'see'. I know it's not right, but I can't think about that right now. I'm just following McKay's touch, allowing it to guide my eyes over the boy.

The thin material of cotton sheet is draped across Myron's hips, just high enough to give him modest coverage-low enough to display the light sprinkling of hair below his taught belly, and just thin enough to leave little room for imagination. Myron smiles timidly, as I'm finally able to meet his gaze.

So this is going to happen. I don't dare move as McKay leans into him for a kiss. In a fluid motion Myron wraps his arms around McKay pulling him closer while McKay's long fingers lightly encircle Myron's throat, the other fingers sweeping gently through his soft hair as his tongue probes deeply into Myron's mouth.

I'm in a trance hardly able to believe that I'm watching these two beautiful, young officers smother each other with lips and tongues, going at it with a heated fervor that could only have been matched and most likely sparked by their constant conflict.

I can almost imagine their first kiss; probably an argument that got out of hand so intense that it bordered a physical confrontation, and then, the realization. Probably McKay, he's the only one that could be bold enough; pinning Myron to the side of the hootch and crushing his lips into LT's with such violent passion that neither man could deny it any longer.

I can picture LT's expression as he's released, eyes flickering with anger at McKay's audacity, anger and confusion and then given McKay's charms and relentlessness, overwhelming need. Kind of like I'm feeling right now.

I'm brought back to the exquisite display before me. As I watch them ravage each other a low growl escapes from the back of my throat and I lick my lips hungrily.

They break the kiss slowly; their eyes still closed as McKay hovers close to Myron's swollen lips. The two are breathless, barely an inch between them and for the moment they seem oblivious to my presence in the room.

Tenderly, McKay brushes his thumb across Myron's bottom lip, bringing the boy back to him. His eyes flutter open and he seems to be just as entranced as I am.

"I'm jealous of everything you two have," McKay says quietly. He turns to me and can obviously read the dubious expression that I'm wearing, but instead of laughing, he smiles sadly. "I'll be in your tent, Zeke."

"Johnny," Myron sighs. "You don't have to go."

I'm totally perplexed. "Go? Wait, I don' understand."

McKay turns around and touches me gently. "I won't if you don't want me to," he says softly. Tentatively, he palms my face. His fingers are soft as they dance across my stubbled cheek, definitely not the fingers of boonie rat I think to myself while I can still think.

Cautiously, he moves in and just has he had with Myron, he captures my mouth in a sweet

embrace. My mind is all over the place and I can't help but think about how many times I've wanted to knock McKay on his sarcastic little, self confident fly boy ass and now all I want to do is get my hands on it.

As I bring my left arm up and grasp his well-chiseled bicep he breathes a broken little moan into my mouth, something so out of character for him that it makes me shiver. Then, just as slowly and carefully as he had started it he breaks the kiss. Before I can react to what just happened with McKay, Myron moves up towards me.

I almost can't bring myself to look at him feelin' as though I've just made some unspoken commitment to McKay; all of that uncertainty and need coming off of him, the exact opposite of everything I've defined him as long as I've known him has gone straight to my cock. But with a simple gesture of his head, he concedes to Myron.

Myron's timid expression is tellin' me that he won't make the first move, but his eyes are so dark and seductive that there's no mistaking it. He wants this as much as I do.

I'm hotter than a signal fire, but instead of drowning myself in his mouth like I want, I decide to test the waters first. No need to rush, I been wantin' this for the better part of my third tour.

He closes his eyes as I reach out to him. Lightly, I run my fingers across his across his shoulders. He rolls his head to the side as I slowly trace his collarbone, then trail down the center of his smooth chest bringing my hand back before I venture too far down.

He's breathing hard. I lean forward barely makin' a sound and start to caress his neck with my lips.

Gaining more confidence, I taste him with the tip of my tongue as I make my way across his throat to his Adams apple. With the back of his head perfectly cradled in the palm of my hand I pull him to my mouth an' gently begin to suck. Quiet reverberations of tiny moans coming from deep within him briskly tickle my lips and travel through my own body makin' me shiver inside.

As I nibble on his throat, he eases himself back down on the bed bringing me with him and before long I find myself finally enveloping that sweet mouth of his. My tongue dances across each of his teeth individually beginning to memorize every inch of him from the velvety texture of his tongue to the satiny skin lining the inside of his lips as he opens himself up to me fully.

The next thing I know, we've stopped and we're starin' at each other. My heart is pounding hard in my chest and I'm too choked up to speak. We've crossed that line somewhere, and I don't mean the physical barriers. He's mine in here. In the bedroom, between the two of us, the chain of command has shifted.

I don't want look away from him. I'm afraid that if I do all this will all jus' disappear and I'll find myself drunk, face down in a puddle of god knows what out side some bar in the back alleys of Saigon.

But this *is* real. I'm really here. Myron's really here. I can still taste him on the tip of my tongue. His reassuring hands are caressing me with gentle soothing motions and without me knowing how or when, he's already done away with the top of my uniform.

His touch is not what I would ever have expected from him, self-confident and extremely knowing. I'm lost in him. He's pressing his hips and hardness firmly against my thigh and we connect once again. God, but he's demanding…

My stomach quivers as I feel the scruff of Myron's five o'clock shadow move against the sensitive skin on my chest. Two days without showering or shaving always gives him the sexiest disheveled look and I tremble as I feel him begin to move down to my abdomen.

"Oh God!" I gasp as unexpectedly Myron is grazing the exposed tip of my penis with his lips. My cock's doing the thinking now and I bring my hands down firmly on the boy's head, not pushing him, just touching.

I could cum right then and there from the sight alone, Myron peering up at me through his thick dark lashes, his eyes still the very definition of innocence even while lapping gently on my swollen head. With my undivided attention now focused on him, he leans forward swallowing my shaft whole and I can't help but reach down and caress his lips with the tips of my fingers.

He knows what he's doing. "Myron…Myron stop," I gasp, my breath hitching, catching in the back of my throat.

LT immediately stops and looks up at me in surprise. "Already?" he asks in that snarky tone of his.

I laugh and tip his chin up. "You're so fuckin' hot, boy."

He smiles lewdly as he lies back down. His voice is thick with need as he stares me right in the eye.

"I want you, Zeke." I don't need to hear that twice and in an instant I'm allowing him to pull me down.

Part 7

Myron's passed out. His arm is draped over my chest, his face pressed close against my shoulder. I can feel the heat coming off of his skin again and I'm reminded of how sick he is. A pang of guilt sweeps through me.

Probably time for his second shot. Where's that paper the nurse gave to McKay?

Johnny…I hadn't even noticed him leave.

Looking over to the nightstand, I see the slip of paper that the nurse had given to him. Another shot in six hours. I check my watch. Shit, has it been that long already?

Next to the note are the viles of Dapsone and two syringes. Thankfully, hootches aren't all that big and I don't have to jostle LT too much to reach and fill the needle.

I smirk as I stare down at Myron's overly white and very exposed ass and think of a few of the teasing remarks he shot at me a few hours ago; how he made me hold off coming until he was good and ready to let me. Always givin' orders.

"OUCH! What the hell didja' do that for, Anderson!?" I laugh watching Myron rub his sore bottom.

"Just watchin' your ass, LT." I smile. "It's my job after all."

He scowls at me and carefully rolls over onto his back. "Where's John?"

"Gone. Didn't even see 'im leave…" I say guiltily. Myron looks sad.

I sit up and slip my pants and boots on. Can't have someone walking in on us like this.

"Wanna' tell me what this is all about, LT? He was actin' real strangely."

I find my tee-shit in a ball on the far side of the room and throw that on as well. "I mean, not that sharing your boyfriend with his Platoon Sergeant isn't strange in an' of itself, but I had thought that he was going to stick around."

Myron's lying on his side with his hands pillowed beneath his head. The sheet is twisted loosely around his midsection and he looks sleepy. "He's in love with you, you know."

No, I didn't. "Me?" I'm baffled. "He's got you."

Myron smiles. "And you'd think that'd be enough, wouldn't you?" he laughs. "We happened because of you, Zeke. A fight…"

HA! I knew it! I sit back down on the side of the bed and like a little boy, Myron starts playing with the edges of my untucked shirt. "Really now, due tell."

"Nothing to tell, really. It's the same old story. He's lonely. That cocky, 'holier than thou' attitude of his is just a front and one day I couldn't handle it anymore and called him out. I guess he'd been keeping it in for a long time, because he just let loose."

Myron glances at me and knows that that's not going to cut it. "Say's things like 'I wouldn't understand. I have you and don't know what it's like for him.' That he can see how much you want me and how lucky I am…"

Good 'ol McKay. I smile. "And you didn't know." A fact, Myron was probably floored.

Myron's cheeks turn bright red at yet another shot at his youth and naivete. "No," he chuckles. "No clue."

"And how did you take it? I mean, about me and all?"

It's just like high school. I want to know exactly, word for word what he said. I can't help it. I gotta' know.

"About you?" he confirms. "I told him that he was insane. 'Zeke Anderson is the manliest man I know. No way is he interested in men, much less me in that way.'"

I smile, pin him down with my lips and murmur in his ear. "Surprise…"

He laughs again. "I asked him why he cared so much anyway, and then he told me. He said that *he* loved you and that I was blind if I didn't see what was staring me right in the face…"

"Then he threw you up against a wall and kissed you silly." I grin thinking about my earlier summation.

"Actually, I was the one doing the throwing. He needed to feel a connection, ya' know. You'd be surprised how insecure he can be," he answers quietly. "He assumed that you and I… Well, I guess he knew, didn't he?"

"Yeah," I smile. "Guess he did."

A quiet falls over us and he looks sad and serious all at the same time. "So?"

"So?" I know what he's asking, but I don't know how I feel about McKay. I'll be the first one to admit that when his lips were on mine, I could've eaten him alive, but before I can think about that, I gotta' know where I stand with *him*.

"So what are you going to do about McKay?"

I wait until I have his attention and let my eyes speak for themselves. 'S the best thing about me and the LT. We don't need words.

"We could have something, Sergeant. But I won't hurt him."

I'm grinin' like an idiot. I'm sure it could light up half of Siagon in a black out and I jump on him kissin' him long and hard. "That's all I needed ta' hear, LT." I stand up and head for the door.

"Sergeant?" I turn back.

"I'll be gentle with him, LT. I promise. I'll check in on ya' in a couple a' hours."

"Hey, I do need some sleep you know." With a grin, he rolls over and pulls the blankets to his chin. "Night, Zeke."

"Night, LT" And I head off to my tent.

PART 8

It's been hours so I don't know why I'm surprised that the kid's asleep, propped up in the corner of my bed. I'm kinda' glad he's not a light sleeper 'cause if he woke up on his own right now I don’t rightly know what I'd say to him. Do I want him? My eyes travel over his body.

He's hard as steel and well defined. There's no question about that. I'd be lying if I'd denied checkin' out his ass on more than one occasion but he's just so irritatin'.

Now though, he looks so young and vulnerable, different from how he normally presents himself. Looks like he cried himself to sleep too. Can't help but find that sexy…

One leg's crooked at the knee, arm resting precariously on it, teetering in mid air. The other draped loosely over his stomach. His shirt is opened a few buttons at the neck, the way he wears it most a' th' time and I can see the full length of his exposed throat and part of his chest, tight, smooth and sleek.

His hair is disheveled but in a uniform way, raked. A bit like he's been running his fingers through it over and over again. His face is perfectly relaxed in sleep, his lips just barely touching, the slackness in his mouth makin' them look swollen and pouty…

Now that's got me thinkin' 'bout tastin' them. Am I attracted to him? I don't think that's really the question now. Of course I am. Physically he's beautiful. Have I thought about fucking him before? Yeah. It goes along with all those times I wanna' knock him on his cocky little ass, put 'im in his place but that don't mean nothin'. I've thought about fuckin' Percell too. Don't mean I wanna' relationship with him or nothin' and given what LT said, Johnny's got some serious feelin's for me.

I musta' sighed awfully loud 'cause he's up. He looks around a bit disoriented and I wait for him to focus on me.

"Zeke," he breathes deeply tryin' to shake the sleep out of his system. "Everything okay?"

He checks his watch, then yawns and runs his fingers through his hair. "Sorry, must have fallen asleep," he says sheepishly as he unceremoniously scoots to the edge of my bunk. "Myron asleep?"

He's nervous. I know he's babbling to keep me from talking so he can make a quick and uncomplicated exit.

A few hours ago I mighta' let him too but it dawns on me while I'm watching him that I do have feelings for him. I noticed it when we kissed and I'm noticing it now. It's his nervousness and self-consciousness that's doin' it to me. It's part of the real him, not the flyboy that everyone else sees an' it makes me hot. I smile as he gets himself together unable to meet my eyes.

I do that to him. It touches somethin' in me. I don't know what, but I'm willin' to find out.

Before he's able to stand up and take his leave of me, I place my hand firmly against his chest. "Now hold on, boy. Jus' where do ya' think your going?"

He looks like a deer caught in headlights. "I'm going back to my hootch…"

"Not yet yer not. You an' I are gonna' have a little talk first." He looks completely dejected. Probably thinks that I'm givin' him his walkin' papers from Myron, and up goes that mask.

"Hey," he smiles. "I knew the deal, it was my idea, really. You and Goldman are good together. Don't worry about it."

So cocky and slick and I realize that the boys only got one face. 'S'why it's so easy for him to drop in and out of it at a moments notice regardless of the circumstances…like your entire life fallin' apart around you.

"We are good together, aren't we?" I smile back attempting crack his wall. A hairline fracture… but the mask goes right back up. "He's quite a handful, ain't he?"

John's smile is genuine. "Yeah, but don't tell him that. Takes it the wrong way. He thinks your commenting about his size."

I laugh. "And you?"

"What about me, Sergeant?" he says pulling on his baseball cap.

Like I'm going to let him out the door. Yeah, right…"You aren't a handful?"

His eyes twinkle. "Oh, I'm more than a handful, Anderson." There's a bit of bite to his tone.

I smirk. "Really?" He looks suspicious, like I'm challenging him and he's real uncomfortable. It's obvious.

"Mind if I go see Myron now?" he says quickly.

"Yeah actually, I do." Guess he's hurtin' pretty bad 'cause he looks like he's about to cry. Not surprised or angry, but like he'd expected this just not so soon.

"I ain't done with you yet." Nodding slowly, he sits down hard on my bed as if the whole situation is weighing him down.

I remain silent waiting for him to look at me. "You got somethin' you wanna' share with me, LT?" His head snaps up, stunned. "'S'all right," I soothe. "Myron already told me. I just wanna' hear it from you."

The color's drained from his face and I kneel down in front of him. "I make ya' nervous, boy?"

"No." But there is absolutely no conviction behind it.

"Then tell me." He makes a few attempts but can't find the words, so encouragingly I place my hand on his thigh. "Go on." He's quiet for a minute then turns those bright green eyes to me.

"Kiss me, Zeke."

"Yeah," I say, my own voice hushed. "I can do that."

PART 9

I take 'm hard, claim him 'cause that's what he needs. He wants to feel owned, needs it to heal somethin' broken inside him. He yearns for ma' touch, ma' strength ta' push away his loneliness. 'S a dangerous thing, what that boy's playin' at an' he knows it.

He's trembling as he melts into ma' arms. I weave my fingers through his silky soft hair; pull 'm close feedin' on that fear as he clings t' me, his breath hot in my throat. I crush his lips to mine and he coos sweetly.

Wanna' crawl inside that tight little body, wanna' swallow him whole an' make 'm mine. Feels like he's gonna' let me too.

He kisses deeply throwin' everything he has into it like it's the only thing keepin' him alive. It's intense and full and suffocating and warm. I'd steal his breath if I could; so sweet and clean and I start to wonder if he tastes that good all over.

I pull away and he looks dazed, swaying a bit. "I know what *you* want, Johnny," I say. He looks upset.

"Wanna' know what I want?" My body's hard all over 'cause I know he's gonna' give it to me no matter what it is.

Those beautiful green eyes are focused solely on me and he nods hangin' on ma' every word. Suddenly I don't know what to say, these are some pretty heavy feelin's I'm dealin' with an' I don't want to say the wrong thing. At the moment, I opt for the truth. By the way his pants are burstin' at the seams, I don’t think he's gonna' mind none.

"Want ya' ta' put those pretty lips a yers around ma' cock." I press against them with my thumb wanting to see them swell. "Wanna' feel 'em plump and tight as they glide across my dick. You gonna' do that for me?"

I'm his world right now and it'd be so simple to take advantage of that. It's burnin' me somethin' awful, how much I want him. I want everythin' he's willin' ta' give and that's everythin'. If I don't keep a clear head here, this could get out of hand real fast and I promised Myron I'd be gentle.

Speakin' of hands, he's working my zipper. He's nuzzling his face against each new patch of my skin as it's revealed, nipping and licking and worshiping my body like a well trained whore.

I swallow hard. He's so beautiful. There's somethin' about that innocence of his that makes me wanna' spoil him, ravage him and make him come and cry all at the same time.

Unfortunately my cock's still soft. Myron really did a number on me an' I don't know if I'm gonna' be able to come again but I ain't gonna' stop 'm. He's doin' this as much fer himself as he is me.

He's suckin' on my root, his full lips gently tugging at the loose flesh, the sides, the underside. His face buried in my crotch, his hands grippin' at ma' hips, his cheek fused to the inside of my thigh. His tongue swirls around a couple a' times and I know he can probably taste and smell Myron on me along with a few days in the jungle.

He's sucked me in a few times already but it's obvious that it ain't gonna' happen no matter how much I want it to. Oh there's a stirrin' but I'm just so worn out from lack of sleep, worryin' over LT, not to mention the last few hours I jus' spent fucking. Still feels good though.

I can tell that Johnny thinks its him an' I know I gotta' find another way to take this boy so he knows it ain't. "That's enough, McKay."

My voice is hushed; kid puts on quite a show an' though I don't tell 'im, I know that come the weekend, he's gonna' be walkin' with a limp. Gonna' fill that mouth and fuck it good an' proper, fuck his ass 'til he's seein' stars.

"Guess I'm not really good at this," he grins an' I can tell he's hurt. "It's late anyway..."

He's offerin' me a way out. "Get up here," I order firmly. I split his lips with my tongue and grab his crotch roughly in ma' hand so there's no mistakin' what I want. He whimpers and rubs against me. I bite his lip bringing tears to his eyes. I push him down hard onto his back still with a firm grip on his cock through his pants.

I bite his nipple through his uniform. His torso rises with me. He wants more. So do I.

I start to rub the coarse fabric against his body knowing the sweet ache that's pulsing through his stiff and sensitive nipples. I rub his cock with the same ferocity. Its gotta burn as much as it feels good.

"Zeke…" It's a plea, he's warning me.

I smile and take his lips again. I press my groin against his maintaining the friction and drop my hand further between his legs to press up against his opening. Pushing down, he squirms mindlessly, both of us wishing that I'd taken the time to strip him. I want to feel my finger in his ass as much as he does.

His body goes rigid and I can feel the moist heat forming under my hand. He's sighing and whimpering and makin' all sorts of sweet little noises and only now do I begin to peel away his clothes.

He's still trembling as I strip him, just watchin' me with a heavy lidded gaze. Doesn't even lift up as I yank his pants down, just sleepy and curious.

His cock is beautiful; all pink and slick, larger than I would have thought. God really done good with this boy.

I gather some come onto ma' finger and suck it off. Yeah, sweet.

His breathin's heavy and he strokes ma' cheek as I begin to clean him with ma' tongue. I part his legs and he moans quietly as I tug gently on his sac, shivers as I glide over his perineum.

I sit up and pull off my fatigues. He watches as I toss them aside, rolls over as I curl up behind him, my cock nestled against his ass as I pull him against me. I kiss him on the back of the neck.

"Zeke?" His voice is almost childlike.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

He's cryin' softly an' I pull him closer. He needs me bad, needs me to heal him. I realize as I lay there holdin' him that I need him too, both of 'em, him and LT. Need their love the way they need mine and I know that this ain't the last time I'm gonna' be playin' doctor.

~The End~

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Jennifer Rosen copyright 2001