Work Text
February, 1946.
He walked it, from the spot where his boots hit the dock.Over the wooden ramps that freed the men from their troop ship, through the waiting crowds of cheering loved ones. His uniform caught on skirts and coattails alike as he went; there was a band playing somewhere in the distance. The hassle of navigating it all fell away behind him – without family to greet or friends to find, it was just white noise.Red, white, and blue noise.He walked it, from the edge of the crowd all the way through the city. Canvas bag slung over his shoulder where it bumped rhythmically against his back. All his effects, personals, underwear; knocking one, two, one, two with every step down the sidewalk. If it was heavy, he couldn’t tell.When freshly painted billboards gave way to run-down housing and the occasional pit-stop; he knew he’d come to the right place.1541 Kingsbury Street. ‘Hitchcock and Son’s Used Cars’ the sign helpfully supplied, as if the rows of automobiles weren’t enough of a giveaway. Perhaps not, to the inattentive civilian. Who knew, he couldn’t even begin to guess what their minds provided. His hadn’t even begun to attempt the re-wiring required for such a feat. That old radio would need to be taken apart with the precision and care afforded to a hand grenade.There was something satisfying about it, pointing out the chipped blue pickup and slamming a wad of bills on the counter. Satisfying in a way only a poor man could appreciate; to be rich for a moment. As if money didn’t matter and those crumpled green notes weren’t almost a decade worth of blood, sweat, and tears. Hell, at least he’d never wasted a cent on luxury. The Marines had taught him to live with what only they and God could provide, and it was serving him something fine now.He drove that pickup out the lot with a smile and a half-hearted salute to the dealer. (The man had offered him a ridiculous discount, for his service to his country. It had been declined.)She was a beauty. Light blue paint chipping away to only the faintest touch of rust around the outer rims. The engine purred beside his knees in the cab, grumbling a song no tank could ever replicate. Warm, too, even this early in the year. Summer was coming.A sweet victory as he looked her up and down in the shade of the gas station, a little place on the edge of the port-city. He bent down enough to rub her mirrors with his sleeve, caring nothing for the grub on his winter uniform. His slacks had mud on the hems anyway. And this darling was worth it, he realised, gas flowing into her tank and a little sunshine flashing off her hood.If he knew what love was, he wouldn’t say this was it. But he didn’t, so he was pretty sure he loved this fucking car already.Another wad of bills handed to the store owner and he would have been on his way, had he not seen the red and yellow letters spelling out ‘COLD BEER’ overhead. Well, he wasn’t gonna say no.Passenger seat christened with a crate packed full of bottles, Hillbilly eased back down on the gas pedal and saw himself out. Back onto the crisp new roads heading highway-bound, every bump worth it for the sweet sound of glass rattling beside him.It felt good just to have the leather of the wheel warmed beneath his calloused hands. Palms and fingers grasped around something soft – softer, at the least. No bare metal biting his skin or the faint slick of gun oil. Just a fine car and a long drive ahead.It almost left him in a good mood. He headed east, but who wouldn’t.(He’d opted to avoid the train ticket the Marine Corps offered. He couldn’t give them a destination since he didn’t know where he was going.)Almost a year to make it back state-side, you’d think he’d have forgotten his way around. The pickup felt stranger than the roads, his bones so used to being knocked around inside green canvas trucks and roaring landing craft. Not that he remembered all of them.He’d been barely conscious for about a month of it; the trip from Peleliu back to Banika was nothing but a blur. A blur and a hum and sounds he had to blink away to keep his eyes on the road. The surgery he couldn’t even place. The aftermath, he could. They’d dropped the shrunken mess of the bullet into his lap back in the safety of the hospital, watched his dead eyes stare the metal down like he didn’t know what it could have been. Struck dumb, literally.Shrapnel in his chest, one bullet in his heart.‘You’re a lucky man.’If he’d been lucky, he would’ve hauled his ass over Okinawa. Instead he’d bounced around hospitals, from islands to Australia and back again. Specks of land on the map with names he couldn’t make the effort to pronounce.A lucky man in an unlucky spot.The shrivelling piece of metal that had taken him out of his war was somewhere in his duffle. Slipped away in an empty Lucky Strike tin along with some other equally worthless shit.A couple of Jap coins, washed up on the beach amongst the carnage. His dog-tags and marine pins. Stones from Guadalcanal, Cape Gloucester, Pavuvu, and Peleliu respectively. A silver star and a worn cross that hadn’t seen the light of day in some time. The usual mementos.The usual worthless shit.What mattered more was the fresh packet of Luckies on the dashboard. Hillbilly had one lit without even a pause to lift his foot off the gas, knee supporting the wheel as he flicked his lighter against the smoke between his teeth. The fire illuminated his face for a moment with orange hues before he was hanging his arm out the window. Smoke trailing away in the breeze as he let out a gust in the cab.It was getting dark and he felt like racing the setting sun. To where, he wasn’t sure. There had been a clear finish line during the fighting; it was called Tokyo and a lot people were gonna have to die for the blue ribbon.Not anymore. Now there was only empty highways and nothing telling him to stop.Hillbilly went east. At least it’d put as much distance between him and the Pacific as possible, just in case they wanted to jumpstart one more fucking war. He couldn’t stop wearing his uniform.Sure, he’d ditched the utilities. No more gaiters, cartridge pouches, and the like. No matching Sage Green. His t-shirt though, that was standard issue. He hadn’t quite made the transition to jeans yet, either. Dress slacks adorned his legs as he stretched them over his pickup’s hood. Back sticking to the dusty windshield, even in the early Spring weather. A comforting heat truly unlike the dry, bone-sucking sun of the Pacific.Hillbilly wondered if his jeans would still fit him. A question washed over his tongue by the cool beer, bottle glinting in the setting sun. (Not the one he’d raced out of California, a different sun. A younger, similar sun.)Those jeans were older than some of the boys in his platoon. The idea made him snort into the bottle, a bitter sound that had him leaning his skull back against the blue roof.They were his eighteenth birthday present. From himself, of course - his daddy would blow a hole in his own knee before he wasted a cent on such frivolous things. But Eddie had wanted them (needed them, in fact, but he’d never admit that) and he’d been stashing coins away since he was fourteen.Joke was on him; he only got a month and a half wear out of them before he traded them in for camp greens and the meanest set of boots he ever saw.He hadn’t the heart to fish them out the duffle yet.Just like he hadn’t the heart to cross the border into West Virginia or send the crumpled letter still folded away in that Luckies tin.It crossed his mind like claws dragging over flesh, digging, drawing back skin and blood as he lowered his beer. The sun dipped below the horizon. The heat fell away, as if it knew what scrawled away behind his pale blue eyes.A determined gulp and the bottle smashed against the dusty highway sign Hillbilly had parked himself beside. It twanged in the encroaching dark, matching the creaking of his girl’s hood as he slid back down to earth. Boots, floor, back up into the driver’s seat like nothing had happened.With a single tug of the wheel, Eddie turned his beast around and swung into the opposite lane.Suddenly, he was heading north. Turning tail, just like always. How could he run head-first into machineguns if he couldn’t even roll over a state border or throw a piece of paper in the mail?He truly was a stupid man. And a coward too. If the slop Hillbilly was eating was supposed to be grits then Merriell Shelton was the second coming of Christ. The greying liquid was more akin to porridge than anything else. Supposedly Eddie had eaten worse. Supposedly.His spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl hungrily regardless, shovelling pile after pile into his mouth without ceremony. He wasn’t about to tell the mill’s resident mistress her grits tasted like Jap wine. Wouldn’t be proper, especially if she’d ever tasted sake. (She’d be insulted regardless.)The entertainment made up for the taste. Two boys watching him eat. Just out of sight, brushing the corner of his vision where they were perched on one of the loading wagons. Dangling their legs through the bars and squinting at the foreigner in his own home, sat down on an upturned crate to eat his well-deserved lunch.“Yeah, guy’s a real hick- Real country. Thick as slop but he can carry twice as many sacks as a regular Joe.”Eddie forced his expression to remain faceless. The façade that he couldn’t hear their conversation would be shattered otherwise.“Mountain of a man. Must be six-foot somethin’.” – “Didn’t your old man say he was in the army?” – “Yeah. Somethin’ like that.”Hillbilly covered his offence behind a well-timed clearing of his throat. (The Army. Incredible.)It shut the pair up fast, giving Eddie time to tip the bowl back and slurp down the final dregs of its contents in appropriate hick fashion. Wiping his lips, he moved to stand back up and return to his work. Heaving two sacks of flour over his shoulder. Then another. Then a fourth, just when his muscles were starting to strain.He’d regret it in the morning. Worth it for the spectacle. Every morning, without fail, he woke up at six o’clock.Cracked open his eyelids with a groan and an uncomfortable hum. The pain flooding his spine, creeping over his chest, greeted him like a ton of bricks. He’d pushed his body an inch too far yesterday. And then several more inches to boot.He should listen to corpsmen more often. Or maybe he shouldn’t and instead just admit his inherent death wish. He’d have plenty of time to chew it over in the next hundred-mile drive.Work was scarce; staying in one place was impossible. Too many young men flooding back home after a good old war, too many towns accepting them with open arms. A stranger didn’t have time to make the connections, build the advantages, that a local kid had.Temporary labour, then. Odd jobs, undignified and honest. There weren’t many Hillbilly couldn’t do, after all, even with several shards of metal still lodged beneath his skin.And he had a head start; the roof of the pickup wished him a quiet good morning as he stretched out over the front seat. His boots hit the passenger door with a thump and he let out a curse. A quick peer over the dashboard revealed nobody around to hear him in the flour mill’s lot. Too early for working. Perfect time to slip away unhindered by help.Eddie slid himself into an upright position, blinking blearily over the wheel at the rising sun and yellowing sky. A quick rub of his palms over his eyes and he was ready to start the engine.His duffle bag thumped softly against the floor, in sync with the purring engine as he pulled out onto the road. Another job done, another fine night’s sleep in the car that was doubling as his personal home.Some might have called it a tragedy. Eddie called it an upgrade. “Where are you from, Hillbilly?”There was a hand moving over his jaw, fingers catching on barely visible stubble. The pad of a man’s thumb moving to brush the corner of his mouth, reminding him just how much he’d like take that digit between his lips. Just how lucky he was to even be allowed to consider such a thing.“That’s real personal, sir.” Eddie mumbled, persuaded to keep talking by the warm tingle of his skin moving against Ack Ack’s fingers, “Sensitive information.”From his position on his back, familiar face hovering above him, Hillbilly could make out Andy’s amused smile. Handsome features illuminated even in the dark of the tent, the tiny slivers of moonlight a blessing where they broke through the canvas.“I suppose so.” Haldane admitted. His smile didn’t falter. “I’m from Lawrence, Massachusetts.”Eddie could still mouth out his exact response, even now when letting the lukewarm water cascade over his hair. It brought a rare grin to his face, head shaking slightly as he shut off the shower. The tap squeaked as he stepped out the tub, droplets falling around his feet.“Well, Captain Haldane-” He’d said, trying so very hard not to smile, “a’ Lawrence, Massachusetts-”Eddie mentally blocked out the rest of his dialogue, running a palm over the wet skin of his cheek with profound embarrassment. Blood coloured him a flushed pink as he let out a frustrated chuckle as his own foolishness. Yet, despite the stupidity he’d displayed, he’d never forget Andy’s expression as he took the man’s fingers into his mouth.A heavy blink flushed the sinful images from his mind. Fingers flattened back his curls, for however briefly – just enough to free his sight, to squint at the chipped mirror and massage some soap into the hair rusting his jaw. Anything to keep his mind in the now, not the then, no matter how much he’d love to reminisce.It wouldn’t be proper, not here. A borrowed bathroom on borrowed time was not the home for memories that had already stirred his gut in a shameful but familiar twist.The good Lord must’ve been watching because his stubble snagged on the razor, slicing a clean nick into his skin. Hillbilly hissed out a curse, politely hushed by gritted teeth and a locked door. A crimson bead appeared as he checked his reflection. Somehow, it wasn’t the most disturbing of new additions.His locks had surpassed unruly and moved into the territory of untamed, lifting upwards from his scalp and falling in a flurry over his forehead. Short back ‘n sides had given way to slightly overgrown back and sides, with a mop on top to complete the look. The half-shaved beard wasn’t flattering the ensemble.Quiet pain electrified his skin as Eddie tugged lightly on a fallen lock, as if measuring the distance from his scalp. Comparing, evaluating. Lining it up with the imaginary trimmed curls he had maintained so religiously before now.He’d had no choice, though he would have chosen to anyway. The company barbers had made sure of that. And hated Hillbilly collectively, his unruly ringlets had always given their scissors a hard time.The Devil’s curly hair.He noticed the dark shape reflected behind his head, the wooden cross nailed to the beige of the bathroom wall. It was blurred by the steam, by his poor eyesight. And his reluctance to acknowledge it.A droplet of blood splashed quietly against the porcelain and Hillbilly gratefully followed it with his gaze. A splash of red to be washed away beneath another tide of water. He finished his shave. When he emerged from the bathroom, he was fully clothed. Respectful, of course, for the couple whose home he had so courteously invaded.They’d refused his offer of paying for the water he’d used. Little did they know, he was paying tenfold in shame.Never had he felt so decrepit, knocking on a stranger’s door. Dress uniform back on, cap in hand – literally. Explaining his disturbance with the truth, sprinkled with a pretty coating of white lies.Hillbilly would have avoided it if he could’ve. Over a week on the road with no work in sight put men in desperate situations, however, and there hadn’t been a working pit-stop bathroom anywhere.He’d swallowed his pride hard when the poor woman with greying hair had opened the door of her picket fence home. It’d gone down like a lump of brick, scraping his throat raw.“Good mornin’, ma’am.” That was his choice start for his heart’s eulogy, “I’m sorry t’ disturb you but I was wonderin’ if I could use y’ sink.”She’d been incredibly graceful about it all, mores the pity. Diligently questioned his intended use of her sink, which had led to Eddie telling his shuffling feet that he intended to have a wash. At which point, the shower had been presented as an option and his remaining dignity had rolled over and succumbed to its wounds with a final heaving gasp.She’d insisted he have breakfast too. He’d insisted she’d given him enough.Any excuse to get back in his truck and free himself from those dark, pitying eyes. There was a nagging truth that he was avoiding people. All interactions kept to the minimum, from the gas station clerks to the farm boys he worked beside when he got the chance. Small talk, not real talk. Greetings, pleasantries, business, farewells. One, two, one, two.It might have been lonely if Hillbilly had ever recognised the concept.How could he? There had only ever been him. Eddie looked out for Eddie, nobody else. He was the carer, not the cared for, and nowadays his help didn’t come free. He wondered how his brothers and sisters were faring without their eldest sibling to wrangle them into shape.He wondered if they’d been told he was dead. Maybe the whole county had been.He wondered if he should rectify that purposeful mistake, make his daddy red with rage.There was time for that later, surely. The highway stretching out beyond the dusty windshield, disappearing into the orange sunset; that was for today. It drew him into its fire as the pedal slowly eased closer and closer to the flat of the floor. Engine revving and purring as it let out a shudder, enjoying the release of speed Hillbilly fed it.He’d slap himself for wasting gas in the morning. Morning came sooner than he imagined.Parked up on an empty road when it’d gotten too dark to justify the drive, he’d laid his head down against the driver’s seat with a soft sigh. Never had he so actively cursed his long legs. Fully stretched out, his ankles rested against the brim of the window. Feet hung out, hovering over the steep drop into the dust of the roadside.It was warm. He needed the window open anyway, he told himself.A black sky disappeared as his eyes fell shut, drifting away into a bottomless sleep. One that swiftly sunk its claws into his bullet wounds and shrapnel scars alike.The sensations overcame him, the distinct feeling of nails digging into flesh. Through clothes, through skin, and finally into what lied beneath. Blood and tissue, fat and bone.Built from a steady string of gasps, then huffs, then whimpers, Eddie’s scream was able to rattle the cab. Hips jerking downward, the momentum folded him in two, sitting up as his body coiled into a defensive stance.He was, unfortunately, an unlucky man. And a tall one.His sweaty brow collided heavily with the metal roof, leaving him momentarily dazed as he let out a strangled curse. His palm flashed to his skull like he’d been struck, checking for a wound that wasn’t there. An animal on its last legs, one shot from giving up. Realising that the trap around its paw wasn’t budging and the rifle training its sights wasn’t going to hesitate.The violent tremors that wrenched at Eddie’s chest weren’t satisfied with his pained whimper. Muscles jolted and shivered, his ribcage unsteady as his heart slammed itself against its prison. It wanted to escape. It wanted to stop.A slow blink to calm the blurry vision, a deep breath to refill the lungs he’d neglected. The grey spots began to recede as Hillbilly found oxygen reaching his brain, force feeding the wretched, starving beast before it shocked itself to death. Wide eyes squeezed themselves shut, aching skull falling back against the damp cushion of the driver’s seat.Artillery bells continued to ring in his ears.Mouth clamped shut, Eddie continued to draw in sharp gusts of air through his nostrils. In and out with a religious precision. (He’d been practicing.) Only the occasional hiccup or shudder of fear could distract from his healing mantra, of letting his chest rise and fall, over and over and over again.Whatever tension they thought they held, his muscles begrudgingly let it go. The bells faded too.All that had conspired to take him had departed, left him alone to his sweat-soaked seats and sore body. Wet hair fell across his forehead, tickling the bruise he knew would bloom pretty. The only tremor remained in his lower lip.No sound. Just his breath, the wind. The creak of the car as he slowly, carefully, tried to sit up.Nothing challenging, just propping himself up on his elbows so his gaze could glimpse over the dashboard. An empty highway greeted him. The horizon was playing a mediocre rendition of a clear, dawn sky. He’d missed the sunrise spectacular.A couple of harsh kicks to the passenger door freed the dog from his kennel, booted feet managing to find that sweet spot of pressure on the inside handle that had the exit swinging open. (A display of aggression Eddie would feel guilty about later down the road. Enough that he’d toss a few extra dollars to the young man at the gas station, give him a frightening stare and say there was more to spare if he turned the hose on his ride. He’d fill her tank up all the way, too, just to hear her purr happily when he pulled away.)For the moment though, he couldn’t give a damn.His punishment was exquisite, his fall from grace a sight. His boots hit the dust but his body couldn’t follow through. One step forward and his hands had to prevent his face planting into the sand, scrambling in the dirt to try and get him back on his feet. It propelled him forward, his undignified stumble, so at least he had only a few more feet to stagger into the brush.His belt was an obstacle and his pants seemed to take an eternity to unbutton.Tipping his head back, Eddie felt his Adam’s apple bob against the sky as he swallowed thickly. A heavy sigh set his shoulders slumping as he relieved himself, pretending all of the agony from earlier was being released along with his steady stream of piss.He knew that couldn’t be true. His fingers shook as he clipped his buckle back into place. In a moment of weakness, Hillbilly had said ‘I want this to last.’A billboard reminded him when he finally passed into New York State. The lasting taste of Coca-Cola, or something to that effect. It had ignited a petty aggression in his gut.No soft drink had ever lasted for him. Not in equal value to the time he’d waited to get it, anyway. A rare treat that brought divine joy to him as a child had become mundane beside enlisted men. Men who had always known such pleasures, not that that was any fault of theirs. It was hard to express excitement over something so stupid surrounded by the toughest guys he’d ever known.Sipping his beer bottle, Eddie could admit that he’d stopped wanting every taste to last. Soft drinks had stopped being special, especially when alcohol was an available alternative.Those moments with Andrew’s arms around him hadn’t.They’d started uncomfortably special and remained so, painfully unfamiliar in a way that shook his very core.Eddie’d had sex before he’d met Andrew Haldane. He’d had good sex before then, too. He’d dropped to his knees in communal showers, been bent over his cot numerous times. Forced his fingers between his teeth to keep quiet in the darkest after hours, taken unsubtle recruits home from bars and let them pound him wild. Had sailors tuck themselves away and swagger hastily out the door, while he was left to stare up at the ceiling and light up a fresh cigarette.Eddie’d had sex before he’d met Andrew Haldane, not all of it forgettable or violent. Most of it pleasant.What he’d done with Andy was different. And it’d scared him. This was his new start, free of the Marine Corps, free of the war. Free of everything ‘before’, regardless of whether he wanted that to be the case. Eddie was determined to act accordingly.There would be no reminiscing, no throwbacks. No wallowing in pity or pain or longing for what he’d lost. He couldn’t allow it.So he didn’t think of K Company, of the boys he’d abandoned on Peleliu.He didn’t think of Burgie, how that young man would have made a fine officer if given half the chance. Compassionate to the end. Trusting him with command had been as easy as swallowing sweet honey.He didn’t think of De Leau or Leyden, wondering if the latter had ever returned to the company. If the former had been able to hold himself together under the crushing weight around him.He didn’t think of Sledge with his big brown eyes. Somehow always able to grow a little wider, break a little deeper. Eddie hoped that shock never left him. That he never, ever stopped being scared of what war could be. The alternative was far worse.He didn’t think of Shelton, that cocky son of a bitch. Always toeing the line, like he wanted to get thrown out the Corps. Unsubtle to the end, eyeing up recruits with his shirt off, swinging his legs back and forth, not even trying to hide his intentions. Eddie certainly didn’t snort at the idea of Eugene finally cottoning on to the outrageous lust Shelton displayed for him semi-exclusively. That certainly didn’t make him chuckle when it emerged from the depths of his memory.He didn’t think of Captain Andrew Haldane because there was nothing to think of. That man was either dead to him or dead for real. Both stung terribly, but only when Eddie thought about it in another moment of weakness. Other than that, the man was just a dull ache. Always present, but otherwise bearable.Hillbilly could go on like that forever. At least, he thought he could. Hiding the sting behind the ache, and the ache behind hard liquor. That’d keep him going until the end of his days, skipping from job to job across the east coast. He was certain he could do it.A little fun along the way would distract him, too. Sate the part of him the ache had yet to touch, the part simultaneously repressed by the Corps and fed recklessly by it. Because his sweaty forehead pressed against the steering wheel, his hand jerking himself ruthlessly as his panting breath left droplets on the leather just wasn’t cutting it these days. His own hand down the front of his pants wasn’t enough. He pulled into the gas station with one thing on his mind.Two things, maybe. The second being a restock of beer, some bread perhaps. Food to cram into his mouth when he remembered to eat. He was resigned to the belief that this was the only one of his itches that would be scratched today, the first and unspoken one having followed him all the way across the border. Through gas station after gas station, pit stop after pit stop.Eddie was a tall man. But today, he was also a lucky one.The old man behind the counter looked like his bones might crumble with every heave of his chest. Definitely not Hillbilly’s type, he could admit that without shame. The man browsing the newspapers across the store, however, was quite another story.Too warm for a jacket, the figure had stripped down to just his sweater vest and shirt, sleeves rolled back like the weight of the paper could take a real toll. Not that fashion had ever interested Eddie. Only one thing stood out to the marine; the red necktie perfectly knotted around the man’s throat.Hillbilly’s hands slid into his pockets, sauntering idly between the caged shelves.Judging by the car out front – a little too fancy for a gas station, he might add – his mystery person was from New York. The city, if anyone was taking guesses.Eddie knew what they said about red neckties in New York City. He’d seen his fair share before, under various bar lights around various men’s collars. Wrapped around his wrists, too, while hot breath tickled his neck and an almost mocking accent filled his ear.Hillbilly swallowed thickly, hiding it behind a sharp jerk of the head. Looking down, down, over the poor selection of magazines and comics on the other side of the news rack. Almost face-to-face with the red necktie, only a little metal and paper dividing their lower halves.The stranger noticed Eddie’s eyes on him - under the curly mop of hair that had fallen a little too far down his forehead - and raised his hand. Brought his finger and thumb to his lips as their eyes met and ran his tongue along the skin. With only a heartbeat’s pause, his stare moved back to the newspaper, as did his fingers. The page turned.Heat erupted across the back of Hillbilly’s neck.Red necktie smiled.“I got a long drive back to the Bronx,” He began, gaze still downcast as Eddie fumbled with one of the magazines, “Y’ got any recommendations for a bachelor on the road?”“No, sir.” Hillbilly replied, finding his voice a little raspier than he’d have liked. He took refuge in his thick accent, the perfect cover for short words. “I’m not too good at readin’ and drivin’.”The stranger chuckled, folding the newspaper as he leant forward. Over the shelves, a little closer.“You hayseed boys never are.”Oh, clever. Hillbilly didn’t rise to it. Recognising a test was more important than complaining about it. This one he’d passed before, with flying colours.“Reckon not.” A passive, passive answer for an ugly, ugly comment. But they weren’t here for a fight, were they? “But we make up f’ it.”Red necktie flicked a hair from his vest. The light bulb flickered above, lit dimly despite the sunshine outside. It was only just passing noon.“Oh yeah?” The stranger asked, folding his newspaper again, as if he meant to leave. They both knew he wasn’t going anywhere. “How’d you make up for it, hayseed boy?”Eddie lifted his gaze so their eyes met once more. A moment of stares exchanged before the tiniest of movements; blue eyes flickered downwards for a second and hovered over the front of the stranger’s slacks, before they returned. Red necktie licked his lips.“Y’know, it’s a long ride to New York.” The man was all but leaning on the shelving now, “I should really go take a piss before I get on the road.”A soft huff escaped Hillbilly’s lips, eyes half lidded as he enjoyed the familiar proposition.“Restroom’s just next door.” The newspaper was waved between them. “Think I’ll get this to go.”Red necktie turned back to the counter. The old man looked pleasantly surprised to actually get a sale out of the man. All while Eddie lingered, hands in his pockets. Fists clenching and unclenching excitedly.He could skip the food and beer to scratch this itch.The stranger left first, waving politely as the bell chimed and he sauntered out. Hillbilly paid for his gas with sweaty, crumpled bills and made a quick exit.He found red necktie outside, slowly but surely wandering towards the adjacent restroom. Eddie watched lustfully, chest rising with anticipation as he watched those slacks move across the parking lot. He took in the view gleefully, how the stranger’s dark hair was slicked back so perfectly despite the breeze.Dark hair.Almost black, though it rusted brown in the fading light. The sun had dipped behind a cloud and suddenly the orange hues had turned a tone of grey. No more rose tint. Everything faded back into real colour, except the stranger’s locks.They should be blond.Somewhere between his stomach knotting and the droplets breaking out across his brow, Eddie’s feet had chosen a new direction to walk in. The restroom door squeaked but he didn’t see it. He was already tugging on the handle of his car. Ass on the seat, key turning in the ignition. She roared into life and only got louder as she swerved violently out the lot and onto the open road.Nail imprints were left in the leather of the wheel as Eddie stared the highway down. As if he could ignore the racing of his heart, the screeching in his ears.He felt as if he’d been caught by that old man at the counter.He hadn’t. This was worse.As he tried to blink away the vice crushing his chest, Eddie realised that ever-present ache had finally infected the last part of him. That it had now seeped into every pore, every drop of blood. His last, dirty, desperate escape in a filthy gas station restroom had only fed the disease. He wouldn’t be able to go on like this anymore.At the next fork in the road, he sat at the empty turning for an eternity. In silence, as if God could hear his quiet torment and would graciously rip the ground out from beneath his tires.No such luck.The wheel spun beneath his hands eventually. Eddie turned off towards the Massachusetts’ border.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
There was a city directory under his fingers. Faint patches of sweat were left in his wake with every page turned, running his hand over the names as if he were actually reading them.Conveniently alphabetised, there should be no need for Eddie to be running over the ‘G’ section of the city’s residents. Nor ‘F’ section before that. Nor sections ‘A’ through ‘E’ either.Fear was such an insidious thing. It lived too deep in a man to ever gouge out entirely. If it were ripped from one spot, it would merely adapt and grow in another. He didn’t fear the crack of artillery overhead but somehow the idea of finding a familiar name shook him to his core.Clammy hands pulled back the browning paper and revealed the next chapter header. The ornately printed ‘H’ stared back at him. A trembling breath shook his nostrils before Hillbilly could allow himself to sit forward, arch his back, and finally bring the words into view. Squinting down at the finely placed marks across mottled paper, his skin pinched as he strained to bring the letters in focus.It’d taken him until the afternoon to reach the page. Reading was not his strong suit.It began with Hackett.Then Haddock. Then Haden, of which there were two.Hadfield. Hagan, one of three. Hague. Hailwood. Haime, two. Haine. Hainsworth, two. Hakes, three Halberns, and a Halbert.Haldane.His chest shook as his thumb ran across the blurry name.It seemed almost surreal. Not that he was used to seeing the word printed out, rather than simply escaping the lips of every officer and recruit on every island they stepped foot upon. It fit, however; even the structure of the letters seemed perfected.Eddie tore his eyes away. The blunt pencil that he fumbled out of his jeans pocket – he’d started wearing them again, just a little on the tight side but he’d make do – was quickly accompanied by a crumbled candy wrapper. Numbers gave way to poorly scrawled letters as he jotted down the address that sat so calmly beside his captain’s name.The wrapper was folded carefully away then, as if a single crease could ruin the precious information. A clap of paper had the directory closed in Eddie’s wake, tucked under his arm, and escorted back to its proper home. It slid onto the shelf a little too easily.The world just refused to try and stop him. He parked on the other side of town for two days.As much as he wanted to, scoping out the area was not a civilian activity. Or at least, when it was, it was exclusively for criminals and perverts. Eddie had no intention of spying on an unsuspecting family, hoping to catch a glimpse of their routine, even if it was relatively innocent in intent. He’d say his daddy raised him right but that lie was big enough to have him gagging, should he choose to tell it.Lawrence had a public shower and it left Hillbilly ready to fall to his knees and shout the Lord’s praises when he found it. Every man around him was ignored once he stood under the water’s tirade, making quick work of scrubbing his skin raw. Every trace of highway dust, cold sweat, and cigarette stains was erased beneath the rough motions of a borrowed cloth, rubbing him a pretty pink in the heat. Even his hair fell victim to the frothing bubbles he applied, massaged blessedly from head to toe.If the other patrons made note of his scars, Eddie didn’t mind. He’d never thought himself handsome to begin with, and you couldn’t take away from nothing.The scratchy towel was a bliss he wasn’t expecting as he dragged away the lingering droplets. It had him burying his face in it a few more times than necessary, running it over his curls, leaving it hanging comfortably about his neck. He leant against the long sinks and shaved away his stubble.There was nothing to be done about his overgrown locks, mores the pity. Barbers were expensive. He left the showers by eight o’clock, wearing his winter dress uniform. Creased and dusty at the edges, but otherwise in good condition. His peak cap felt like it would crack his skull under its weight and his belt felt tighter than a straight jacket. He kept both on regardless.Noticing the young man eyeing him up in the changing room hadn’t taken much work. Lean and big-eyed, the kid had fluttered his lashes and stayed nude longer than it took Eddie to get entirely dressed.He was blond. The ex-marine was certain this was his own last fleeting attempt at escape. But the pale, honey-touched curls of the man did nothing to keep Hillbilly from clipping his belt buckle firmly closed and slamming the locker door.Blond wasn’t enough. It never had been. He pulled up on the right street at ten o’clock. Parked, yanked the handbrake into place, and sat back in his seat. The summer sun was on its way and the rays left the cab sticky.In the wool of his uniform, Eddie knew he should get out. He stubbornly sat and stewed for another hour. His Boondockers hit the slabbed sidewalk with a quiet sound. They missed the climatic opportunity to send his ass running, leaving him standing awkwardly beside his beloved pickup instead. Back straight, hand lingering on the door handle. Dressed up, eyes down, shoulders hunched and looking about ready to panic.His tie felt tighter than ever. It’d collared his throat, and the leash wasn’t letting him leave this road. Not until he’d had his heart broken. Whether by death or by design, he didn’t care. He wasn’t sure which was worse; a quick but painful chop to the neck or the slow process of poison, feeling it crawl through every cell in his body.Either way, he couldn’t leave. Just like he couldn’t not get on that landing craft. Just like he couldn’t retreat from that beach. Just like he couldn’t shy away from that airfield, those hills, the bursting shells.Some things just had to be done.His boots clapped against the stone as he passed the neatly trimmed grass that was blooming along the row of houses. The suburbs, a nice enough area. White wooden homes with porches and pillars, glass panes on the doors and American flags blowing over every other entranceway.So, this was where the legend came from.Footsteps drew to an abrupt stop as a hedgerow dividing one pretty home gave way to the next.Number 56. His final destination.There could only have been fifteen feet to the porch, only three steps up and another heartbeat from there to the door. It stretched on as if it were miles of Australian desert. He’d come for a house visit, hadn’t prepared for a marathon.It set the cogs in Hillbilly’s mind loose, had them tumbling into his stomach to rattle around uncomfortably. Beating against the knots in his muscles and the clenching pain of his fists.With a sharp turn that only a military man could achieve, Eddie marched himself past the white porch. Down the sidewalk and onto the grass of the next house. Behind the hedgerow that sheltered him from view of the Haldane’s residence.His hands slapped against his thighs as he bent forward and retched, emptying his breakfast onto the neighbour’s lawn. His fingers fumbled for a hold on the bush but found none, leaving him to flail desperately for a moment. His hand eventually moved to cover his lips, damp skin pressing hard against his teeth. Holding back any other unwanted surprises that his gut might feel the need to send upwards.Wiping away the spit, Eddie straightened up with a heavy sigh. He viewed the splatter of vomit at his feet with distain. Less for the contents and more for himself creating it, his only redemption being that he’d managed to miss his shoes completely. He’d feel terrible for the poor lawn’s owner did he not feel terrible enough as it was.Tugging his jacket back into place, Eddie stood up straight. His hands adjusted his cap with a dignified jerk.It’d be noon soon.The sun was almost directly above, gleaming warm gold on every windowpane and car windshield in sight. The white houses looked beautiful.It was a spell that would have to break. Eddie would be breaking it.He slowly turned and approached the Haldane’s porch.He counted each stair. The first footfall; confident, a measure of his strength. There was speed to the drop of his boot, the hard surface pushing back against his weight. The second gave way to a creak; the whitewashed wood quietly protested such persons on their clean-swept terrace. By the third, his legs had slowed to a crawl. A fearful, aching crawl.The muscles of his thighs had taken a three-step shift and made from it a ten-mile march. Already Hillbilly was ready to collapse onto his cot, rip off his socks, and survey the burning blisters that wouldn’t be there.He stood on the top stair for the longest time, staring fixedly at the door. White wood, of course, framing a pretty little pane of clouded glass. Four panels, divided evenly by the slim beams.A crossroads with four available exits. Down the street to the left, down the street to the right, or straight backwards off the porch and into the oncoming traffic.Or forward. That just didn’t seem like an option.It left him gingerly taking another stunted stride towards the entrance. A final push and he let one more footfall impact, rooting him deep under the shadow of the porch’s roof.It was past noon.Eddie felt the rush, that urgent need to be punctual. For what, he couldn’t say. Yet, the longer he lingered in silence, the heavier his arms felt. The greater the lead became, galvanising in his veins and turning every thought of movement into a strain.The American flag blew carelessly in the breeze above his head, supported by a pole extended from the overhang. The white stripes looked almost gold in the sunlight. A gentle breeze took its colours to the dance, the tiniest flicker of motion in the corner of Hillbilly’s eye.He ignored it as his reflection stared unseeingly back at him. Grey-eyed and somehow looking through himself. A dead man walking.It was time to see if that made two of them.Eddie had to know. He had to be sure. Whether that be a confirmation of death or a confirmation of rejection, he had to know. Would he be weeping over a grave or the bottom of a whisky glass tonight? Didn’t matter. Drowning was drowning, in piss or seawater.Curled fingers met his palm, his hand rising to the challenge the door held. It was shaking. He let a steady breath escape him, hoping to settle the tremor in his bones. It couldn’t be helped.After another final, sharp inhale, Eddie let his knuckles rap firmly on the glass. Three taps that echoed eternally in his head.A part of him hoped nobody was home. Or, at least, that the announcement of his presence could not be heard down the hallway.Perhaps he was an unlucky man, then.No sooner had he blinked and attempted to pull down his jacket one last time than a familiar clunk rattled the glass pane. A handle was taken in hand and folded away, releasing the door with a jerk before it swung back gracefully.Curled and pinned silver hair greeted his eyes. She was far smaller than him and Eddie found his eyes dropping to meet hers, in perfect time with the rigid straightening of his back. Brought to attention by an elderly woman without so much as a spoken word. Her wrinkles attested to her age, to the glossiness over her eyes that conserved wisdom as well as judgement. The creases of her face marked out years of smiles and frowns in equal measure, as many as there were tiny petals across her dress.He was certain the grey across her locks was covering blond.“Yes?” She asked kindly, her frown one of concern and her smile sympathetic, “May I help you?”Every drop of blood was running down his body, pooling at his feet and seeping away through the floorboards, staining them red. Her expectant eyes drew every word, every thought, every feeling bar the need to flee from his tongue, dragged from his parted lips with his very breath. His mouth grew dry and even the most agonising gulp could not satisfy.He was too scared to speak. He must have looked it.Her smile faded to an expression of worry. The guilt of it had Eddie on the brink of collapse.Her voice was soft as she pushed against his silence.“Lieutenant?”Lieutenant. That was him, wasn’t it. The realisation didn’t stop him glancing down at his winter uniform, the dark green drawing his eyes to the leather strap constricting his chest. It was holding his heart inside his ribs. He followed her eyes for help – upwards. To the tiny, gleaming bars pressed against his shoulders then further, to the angles of his peak cap.His hands shot to his forehead with an angry draw of breath, filling his lungs in the hope of stifling his humiliation. Eddie quickly pulled the offending item from his hair, leaving his curls to fall wildly against his skin and shoot skywards in a horrible display, no longer tamed by the pressure of his hat. The eagle’s wings of his pin bit painfully against his palm as he clutched the thing in embarrassment.“I’m-” He had to stop, to swallow again between his words, “I’m sorry t’ disturb you, ma’am-”Another beat had his brow furrowing, unconsciously enraged by the thickness of his words. The rough, undignified accent that plagued every syllable of his so carefully prepared speech.“But I was wonderin’ if this were the Haldane residence.”Though the distain directed at himself was strong, the desperation directed at her was stronger. It filled his eyes with bright light, wide and scared and ill-equipped for what she might say next. What she might say after that.What he’d say to her now.“Why yes,” She said slowly, treading each word with a patience he couldn’t comprehend, “Lynn Haldane is my husband- Are you looking for him?”She seemed to answer her own question. Her eyes grew dark, her concern turning to a reserved hostility. As if that uniform before her could only bear bad news.“Or are you looking for my son,“ She said, “Andrew.”The word struck Eddie like a blade to the gut, sliding deep and filling his chest with another terrified gulp of air. His globe pin would be leaving deep indentations on his hands, drawing blood from his fingers where he gripped it like a vice.
Son.
This was Andy’s mother.Eddie’s expression crumbled, falling away to reveal the desperate features of a man living his final moments. All he could manage was a broken croak of “Yes.” through the tightness in his throat, the sudden iron grip of his tie as it throttled him silently.The American flag had fallen still.The woman in the doorway looked at him with a veiled expression. She considered, and then opened her mouth to speak.He braced himself for the worst.“Eddie?”Silver hair drew back as the woman turned, revealing the long, sunlit corridor of her home. Eddie followed that new voice, peering deeper into the wooden heart that had been built around something so precious to him. The figure within, clear only to the pair on the doorstep, stepped cautiously forward into the ray of golden air.The fingers clutching Hillbilly’s hat fell slack. The fabric, his pin – the globe, eagle, and anchor – sunk to the floor. A slow, cushioned drop down, down to the unrelenting floorboards. If the offending item clattered, no one heard.A halo shone around Andy’s head, growing in intensity with every pace he took closer to the doorway - the source of light, the crack that allowed the afternoon sunshine to pierce his home. It reflected in his eyes, left them shimmering in a way Eddie had never seen in him. Like daylight on the ripples of a clear, tropical ocean.Hillbilly’s ribs had shrunk, his lungs no longer able to draw in or out. Frozen in place, even in the warm weather and growing heat that spread fatally through his veins. Hands still poised as if they clutched his cap, lips still parted as if he might speak. That would not be possible for now.His brow softened. The muscles beside his eyes creased, released, relaxed, and tensed. His expression was unable to portray the sensations knocking against his chest, beating his ribs black and blue. Grey fuzz began to tickle the edges of his vision. A tilt took the world, only to reset a moment later.Andy put a stop to all that. He approached and his footfalls rung louder than church bells.Eddie blinked and cleared his throat. The sound reminded him of a scraping bayonet. Rough, undignified, and painful to the ears.“Captain Haldane.” He managed, “It’s… good t’see you ag’in.”It occurred to him, in a moment of confusion – when his heart had stopped and his body threatened to faint – that Ack Ack had greeted him quite differently. Without rank or pretence. With a softness only that man could make so strong and masculine; the perfect friend, father, and marine. (With something a little damp in his eyes, too, but Eddie didn’t recall.)Hillbilly couldn’t manage that. He would never be capable of such calibre.Andrew’s mother turned back to their visitor with a much less hostile expression, placated by her son’s recognition. Not that Eddie paid her any attention, incapable of drawing his gaze from where his captain held it. Anchoring their eyes together, meeting once and now co-dependent. Until Eddie’s superior permitted them to break.There was a silence as Andy approached. Hoping either of them could make sense of the unspoken conversation should they be a little closer, able to study the reflections of their eyes in more detail. No such luck befell Hillbilly; he could no more see what lie behind Ack Ack’s gaze than he could see the future.The stars and stripes above started to flutter again. The breeze returned.Captain Haldane spoke.“I could say the same to you, Lieutenant.” His hand reached for the doorframe. It supported him where he stood shoulder-to-temple with his mother. “I’ve never been happier to have a uniformed man arrive at our door.”The words left Eddie to swallow back his blush, crushing the butterflies threatening to escape his stomach. They were trodden to little more than smears as he bent to retrieve his cap, quickly and efficiently returning it to his hands. Andy’s eyes followed him down.“I’d understand if you never thought t’ see another set a’ dungarees ag’in, sir.” Eddie said. It was accompanied by what might have been half a laugh, and the smallest of smiles. Testing the seawater, hoping it was warm.Andrew let out a familiar huff of his own, shaking his head as his mother watched in content confusion. His smile was brighter than the sun that shone against his blond hair.“I’d hardly compare your greens to dungarees.” He must have felt Hillbilly’s embarrassment, seen the flush of his cheeks and the squaring of his shoulders, “But I’d be the first to defend your honesty there.”An undetectable sigh had Eddie’s muscles relaxing where he stood.“Thank you, sir.”They were both smiling.“Come on in, Eddie.” Ack Ack said, motioning inside as he stepped away from the threshold. Hand still gripping the doorframe, supporting his weight against the sturdy wooden beam. “You didn’t come all this way just to wish me well and be turned away.”Both men looked to Andrew’s mother, the last stamp of approval to allow Hillbilly into the grace of their home. She tutted, but it held no malice. Only fond disapproval.“Well, you’re not going to get much discussion done on the doorstep.” She huffed, as if the dragging out of the invitation had tried her patience. She turned away and strode back down the hallway. “We have a such a lovely garden.”It broke the spell that had struggled to hold the scene, peeling away the last remains of Eddie’s desire to flee. With a grateful nod at the disappearing silver hair, he stepped cautiously across the threshold, plunging into the freezing waters of an unfamiliar ocean. His shoulder brushed Andy’s chest as the door was pushed gently closed behind them, sealing the exit. The panelling left fractured patterns across their skin, the room suddenly dark without the direct sunlight lighting up the hall.Alone for the first time, Eddie found himself staring at the man lent so close to him – hand still resting for support on the door handle. A tall shoulder against a still-strong chest, such an awkward position to be so intimate in.Andy stared right back at him, under the shadows of the entrance.He smiled softly, then pulled away. Following in his mother’s footsteps, passing away down the hall. Hillbilly’s gaze followed his eyes until he could no longer see them.The scar beside Andy’s temple left so many terrible questions on his tongue. The garden proved small and shallow, only a fraction wider than the house itself. The rear fence could be reached with limited strides, though difficult to touch; the neatly trimmed bushes and maintained trees defended its honour from prying eyes. Flowers were exploding in every corner; freshly made pots lined the bright grass.It was as lovely as Eddie had imagined.Three chairs matched the ornate metal table, painted white of course. It felt wretched to take one, knowing there already dwelt a trio within the home. Hillbilly could only hope Andy’s father was currently not present as he sat carefully down against the warm iron. His hat was laid uncomfortably against his lap, back straight as a board. He felt out of place, even in his second-best uniform.Ack Ack wasn’t complaining, reclining far more casually in the seat to one side of his visitor. Though he kept his pale sweater vest on, his shirt sleeves had been rolled up to compensate for the heat. His watch still faced downward against the table. It would have felt odd for both of them to do otherwise after so long.The window of the kitchen behind them left Mrs. Haldane in full view as she moved about the room. Far enough to politely leave them alone; close enough to watch over her boy with every straying glance. Respectful and yet invasive. Eddie would have been tense regardless.The two men sat in silence for a few minutes. The breeze moved their hair and the sun warmed their clothes, keeping their trappings content. Tired eyes looked Eddie up and down, slowly taking in every angle of his figure. Hillbilly wished he could be so casual as to do the same, but found his gaze would not stray from Andy’s face. At least, it strayed no further than his eyes and the occasional, prying glance over that scar beside his temple.“It’s good to see you, Eddie.” Ack Ack began. “I’m… glad I came.” Hillbilly replied slowly.They’d each said the same thing.‘I’m happy you’re alive.’ But they both knew that, could translate the relaxed words into the heavy, agonising confessions they really were.“When they carried you off that ridge…” It was odd to see Andy struggle with his words, sounding so confident yet fading out into silence between thoughts, “There was nothing, nobody could tell us…”A disgruntled huff left his nose where he lent against the table. His elbows supported his weight as Eddie watched him tap his knuckles against the metal.“I suppose it was hard to get any confirmation, up in those hills.” He said.Hillbilly lowered his gaze to his lap, ashamed of the uncertainty he’d caused this man.“I survived.” He admitted bluntly, as if the words Andy had needed back on Peleliu could be said now to the same effect. “Made it t’ the hospital. They shipped me back t’ Pavuvu f’ surgery.”He omitted the surgery near Peleliu Airfield. And the surgery after that, on the beach, waiting for a ship to take him somewhere he could recover. Both times an emergency. Both times near fatal.Ack Ack’s smile was delighted and pained. A difficult mix to hold under such exhausted eyes.“I’d have given anything for that news.” He said. “Thank you, Eddie.”That phrase shouldn’t have given such flight to Eddie’s heart, but it managed it. A sensation of joy he was quick to squash, holding down the flapping beast as he adjusted himself in his seat.“With respect, sir, you saw what happened t’ me.” Hillbilly admitted, his speech once again slowing to a cautious crawl. He stopped there, refusing to continue and delve into the territory of prying. It wasn’t a conversation he could force. The invitation had been extended; it was his captain’s choice whether to accept.But when had his captain ever been anything but gracious?“Yes, that’s true.” Ack Ack huffed pleasantly.His fingers had come together on the tabletop, thumb rubbing lightly over the skin of his palm.“How much of three-five could you follow?”Eddie swallowed thickly. “I heard you’d been shot, if that’s what y’ askin’.”Andy turned his eyes back to his guest with an apologetic smile. Joke was on him, the sentiment only left Hillbilly aching. Desperate to wipe that look from the man’s face by any means necessary. Take him in his arms and violently assure him that there was nothing on this earth for him to feel sorry for, least of all towards his pitiful lieutenant.The backdoors swung open with a squeak. Both men straightened up instinctively, leaning back in their chairs and returning those precious extra inches to the space between them. Their faces turned to Mrs. Haldane as she descended the steps onto the grass, approaching with a glowing smile and a tray in hand.“It’s too hot to sit outdoors without a drink.” She instructed, placing the jug of lemonade against the table with a gentle clang.“Thank you.” The men said in hurried unison. They exchanged amused glances at the display.She left them with two glasses to compliment the generous jug of pale yellow, retreating to the kitchen but leaving the backdoor open. The windows squeaked as she cracked them loose as well. Neither of the pair commented.Eddie’s hands remained in his lap. Andy lacked the hesitation, taking the handle casually and pouring out two full cups of lemonade.“I only managed another two days after you left.” He chuckled. As if the word ‘managed’ could ever be applied honestly to Captain Haldane in such a context.Still, it left a confusing twist in Eddie’s gut. Amplified by the motion of Andy sliding one of the drinks over to his side of the table, something he reached for with a stiff, jerking movement of his own. Their hands collided against the cool glass, fingers placed atop one another as they fused in place for a second. The men shared a look for that moment before Hillbilly drew his touch away.Andy released his grip and allowed Eddie to take an unsteady sip of his lemonade.“We had to survey the situation beyond the ridge.” He explained. “Belly crawl up to the summit, lift our head a few inches above the parapet. Try and get something – anything – from those couple of seconds.”It was almost amusing the way Ack Ack recounted the tale. As if he had been an NCO, ordered to risk himself for the continuation of their objective. Rather than a captain volunteering for a danger his men were supposed to undertake, leading from the front as always.“Guess it was just an unlucky couple of seconds.” Andy said mournfully.As he looked down at his hands, Eddie’s gaze drifted up to the scar beside the man’s temple. The only significant change to the face he knew so well, one that could not be explained away by age or lack of sleep. A clean, pale scar over a patch of mottled skin. Surgery over wound.Hillbilly’s mouth was dry as he spoke in a quiet rasp. “Sniper?”With a bitter smile, Andy nodded.“Sniper.” They talked until the jug sat empty on the white table, drained under the falling afternoon sun. Small talk, not real talk. At least, nothing real after catching up on old wounds. It wasn’t a topic either seemed comfortable to dwell on for extended periods. Not yet.Mrs. Haldane came to refill their glasses as evening approached. She may have gotten impatient simply watching.Andrew invited her to sit. She positioned herself opposite Eddie, her son separating her and the stranger who knew her boy so well.“Mama, this is First Lieutenant Edward Jones.” Ack Ack had started.His hand rested on Eddie’s upper arm, squeezing the muscle there supportively. It helped drain away his fear.“He was my second in K Company. He was wounded on Peleliu.”It proved best not to complicate the description with more accurate terms. The basics were enough, and she nodded in understanding. The last addition certainly bled away even the traces of hostility she still held for her guest. Another wounded marine left no need for comparison to what had befallen her son.“It’s a pleasure, Lieutenant.” She said, extending her hand to him.Eddie took it standing, kissing it politely much to Andy’s poorly concealed joy.“Pleasure’s all mine, ma’am.” Hillbilly said, embarrassed as he sat back down.Mrs. Haldane seemed unphased, almost approving as she nodded appreciatively. She leant over the hands folded in her lap, scrutinising her visitor as she spoke.“Where are you from, Lieutenant Jones?” If she slowed her words a little, only Andy seemed to notice. Visibly, at least - the only one of the three who looked at her with a twitch of his cheek and the slightest concern hidden behind his eyes.Eddie, on the other hand, was untouched by the tone. It didn’t change the reluctance of his answer.“West Virginia, ma’am. Mingo County.”It was an expected response. Still, it was different when confirmed, admitted like a church confession.“My, that’s quite a way to travel.”There was no mention of the fact that one of the marines present hadn’t returned to his home upon arrival in the States. Hillbilly didn’t think it necessary to correct her.“Yes, ma’am. But I enjoyed the drive.”“I’d hope Lawrence was worth it.”With a genuine smile, Eddie’s shoulders relaxed for a moment. He looked to Andy.“Reunion certainly was.” He admitted, “I’m real happy t’ see Captain Haldane well.”Andy glanced back down at his hands. Hillbilly might have mistaken it for embarrassment had he not held the man in such high regard.“How long are you in Massachusetts, Eddie?” Ack Ack asked, pointedly making a move towards the more important questions. Always a leader, even here.“I-” Eddie took a pause to collect his thoughts, gaze moving between the two expectant eyes on him. “I planned on gettin’ a motel… f’ a couple a’ nights.” He lied.As well as his old girl parked street-side was serving him, it wasn’t a bedding situation he wanted to broadcast.Andy turned to his mother with a raised eyebrow. Mrs. Haldane scoffed.“Of course not. You’re welcome to stay here.” She explained. Lacking cruelty but rather speaking to a child, laying out an adult concept beyond their understanding. “So long as you can convince Andrew to share his bedroom.”Andy laughed.“I think we can manage.” Setting up the spare mattress in Andy’s room was a good distraction. It left them alone again, Mrs. Haldane busy downstairs preparing dinner for what was now going to be three hungry men.Despite being once again in privacy – even greater than that of the garden – Eddie found the conversation still floating on the surface of the water. The ocean of questions, confessions, real talk and real topics, remained unbroken by the relative seclusion they had retreated to.Comfortable? Yes. Open? No.Many of the preparations were completed in a content silence, interrupted by the occasional chatter or objective instruction. Ack Ack handled the pillowcases whilst Hillbilly tucked the sheets over the borrowed bed.It gave Eddie an excuse to take in Andy’s bedroom. The first door up the stairs, it faced the front of the house. Visible to the American Flag and slanting roof over the porch, a couple of windows to watch the street below. Pretty, sheer curtains, brushed with lace, sheltered the insides of the room though there wasn’t much to hide. A cast iron bed, double sized with cream covers. Nothing else apart from several unopened boxes and a dresser, with a washboard wardrobe built into one wall. The mirror sat opposite the bed frame, reflecting their operation.Eddie had to take note of the pillows that sprawled over Ack Ack’s mattress, all seven of them. Some piled atop others, a few strewn around. It fit with the crumpled duvet. Who knew Andy would be so unregimented when it came to making up his bed?“I hope you don’t mind if I take some of the additions from the bed.” The blond noted.He broke the silence as he fluffed one of the new pillows between his palms, tossing it against the bed frame. Eddie looked at him with a simple confusion.“Take ‘em where?” He asked.“Onto the floor.” The captain answered.The realisation had Hillbilly inhaling deeply, straightening up as his hands immediately landed on his hips.“No.”“You’re a guest here, Eddie.” Andy laughed, looking over his shoulder with a knowing and yet cheeky grin, “It’s only fair-”“Ain’t nuttin’ fair about it.” Eddie interrupted, “As the rankin’ officer-”“We’re not playing that game.” Ack Ack countered.“As the man openin’ up his home-” Hillbilly exchanged, following through with a change of tune, “I’d feel rotten takin’ y’ bed from you. I’m grateful f’ the gesture, but I refuse, sir.”Andy sighed.“I thought we weren’t playing that game.” He said, chewing over the ‘sir’ that fell so instinctively from Eddie’s lips.The sound of the front door unlocking broke up whatever kind of fractured conversation they were hoping to uphold. Voices downstairs had their gazes meeting, all arguments forgotten as Hillbilly looked to his captain with fresh apprehension.Andy yielded.“We can fight about it later.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
A light wind had taken the warm evening air. June was fast approaching. Red and white stripes unfurled peacefully against the current, drifting in the watery nothing that bathed the fabric. Refusing to be out shone, flowers had begun to rise from the lawn out front. Colour had wasted no time in stealing back the state of Massachusetts, tearing apart the black and white photos of soldiers, sailors, and pilots.The sun was setting late in the day now. It was as if they had all the time in the world to spare.Yet Eddie still wished he’d taken a moment to change into his dress blues. Or worn them to the doorstep altogether, as if he’d had any concept of what those long, slow hours would meander him towards; this terrifying scene.A sturdy dining table, big enough for six but clearly only familiar with three. White tablecloth laden with neatly sewn patterns of lace and flowers, so elegant looking where it brushed against his slacks. (How he desperately wished it were meeting blue rather than dirty, forest green.) The temptation to fist his hands against the wool did not slip his mind, if only to calm his sweaty palms. Eddie resisted. He sat, straight-backed, against one of the Haldane’s dining chairs, wooden frame digging into his tense muscles and frail wicker failing to cushion his weight.And beside him, less than two man’s width away, sat Andrew’s father.It shouldn’t have been an intimidating sight.The man was something traditional; neither a meek, weedy figure not a huge, towering giant. Comfortably tall, maybe a half inch less so than his son, and several inches less so than his guest. A strong jaw that was impeccably shaven, cleaned right up to the straight cut of his trimmed moustache. Combed, of course, like his locks. His top lip showed greying blond, beneath a straight nose, and finally two dark, brown eyes.The dull colour was surprising. Hillbilly couldn’t quite place why.Regardless, the stare that accompanied those eyes was enough to wipe the slate free of all other features. The softness of age did not match the piercing light that Eddie found shining him down, unhindered by the wrinkles that mapped the man’s skin. Even the small circular panes of his spectacles did nothing to ease his presence.They shook hands when Mrs. Haldane called her son and unexpected guest down for dinner.Eddie had felt so cripplingly unprepared. So much so that he’d excused himself apologetically to the bathroom whilst Andy descended the stares, taking refuge in the safe upper floor of the house. The toilet seat remained shut. Nothing could come of him trying to use it, not with the strangling knot currently destroying his stomach.Inside, his hands found his tie. A tug, twist, and sharp pull left it uncomfortably tight, his collar smoothed down to match. Next, his sleeves; rolled back to their original place at his wrists. A frustrated hum, barely above the silence of the bathroom, escaped Hillbilly as he saw the creases that lined the wool, wrinkling bashfully as he roughly flattened them under his fingers. No effect stuck, so he moved anxiously onto his jacket.It returned to his shoulders as a noose. Heavy, unwanted, and certainly holding as great a burden as it had that morning. The buttons slipped painfully under his sweaty fingers. Getting the ornate metal through their correct holes begat an ordeal in itself. His brow felt hot, droplets on his temples.Had he the time, he might ask himself why this had become such a torturous exercise. Why he had made it such a trial, perhaps.The world knew why, continuing to turn despite his desire for it to stop then and there. Silently judging his every move, no matter the insignificance. What a bastard.He’d followed Andy down the stairs shortly. Left the security of the bathroom behind to move downwards, straight into the long hallway that faced the house’s entrance. A space now shedding an orange glow through the windowpanes and a yellow light from the flickering wall fixings.That was where he’d first seen Lynn Haldane. Stopped at attention just past the bottom step, nodded respectfully and given a stiff salute.The gesture changed nothing about the other man’s easy smile.Eddie had seen that same smile in the fire and brimstone of Peleliu. It did not signify any lapse in danger.Approaching with the confidence only the true owner of the home could achieve, Lynn offered Hillbilly his hand. Stiff fingers were forced to relax, retreating from Eddie’s temple to accept the greeting; a firm squeeze and a single, masculine shake.Testing him. Skidding a stone across the waters just to watch it sink.“You must be Lieutenant Jones.” Mr. Haldane said.The lieutenant wished he wasn’t.“Yes’ir.” A hard swallow to relieve his dry throat, “A pleasure t’ meet you.”Eddie had always preferred saluting his superiors over shaking civilians’ hands. It simplified the process. You couldn’t test what you couldn’t touch.“Andrew’s talked of you for quite some time.” The other man admitted, “Welcome to our home.”Before their guest could become truly embarrassed, Mrs. Haldane ushered them all away. To the right of the hall, through the living room and into the dining room where Eddie’s gallows had been prepared.Lynn sat with his back to the garden, at the head of the table. His wife sat to his right and Andy – hand lingering for a moment on his comrade’s shoulder – sat beside her.It left Hillbilly to circle the table, peak cap laid carefully against the cloth, and place himself at Mr. Haldane’s left. He waited patiently for his caretakers to all sit before he pulled out his chair.“Smells excellent as always, Deborah.” Mr. Haldane commented as he adjusted his spectacles, taking a moment to smile at his wife. He patted her hand where it rested on the table. “Hope an extra mouth didn’t cause too much trouble.”Mrs. Haldane laughed dismissively as Eddie felt his cheeks bubbling, hot under the shame.“Pay no mind to him,” She placated. She addressed her guest yet her gaze focused upon fixing her dress, “If there were any fault at all, it would certainly lie with Andrew.”Out of the corner of his rigid stare, Hillbilly felt Andy’s warm grin on him for a moment in response.“So it would.” Lynn agreed.The steam rising from his plate brought the small talk to a close. Eyes downcast, the oldest man’s fingers wove themselves together. He rested his wrists against the table. Andy followed suit.Mrs. Haldane folded hers into her lap. Her eyes closed but Eddie couldn’t ignore the distinct huff that was cleverly disguised as a sigh. He instead looked to forcing his own hands together in prayer. The gesture felt terrible, least of all because of how casual it all seemed. Hillbilly neglected to bow his head and rest his brow against his fingers, just as his daddy had always demanded of him. Forcefully, if needed.Eyes closed and mouths shut would be enough under this roof.“Bless us, please, oh Lord,” Lynn uttered simply, each syllable sharp and precise, “And for what we are about to receive may you make us truly grateful. Amen.”Brought back with a sudden crisp closing word, Eddie had to blink away his bemusement. A distinct sense of anti-climax filled his veins. Alas, knives and forks had already begun making soft clinks against porcelain as each Haldane made moves against their dinner. Hands drawing back from their position of prayer, Hillbilly took up his cutlery as if it were a loaded rifle and moved his eyes to his food.A healthy cut of fish pie – homemade, of course – beside a generous pile of succotash greeted him. Steam fogged his vision from staring and he hastily made a move to dig in, taking one last glance at his hosts to ensure they were also eating. Satisfied they were, Eddie took a helping of pastry and vegetables into his mouth.It was truly as excellent as it had been described.“So, Lieutenant,” Lynn began, perfectly timed with the closing of Hillbilly’s lips around the fork, “Were you and Andrew at Quantico together?”Any other man employing such a tactic would have Eddie chewing with distain.Mr. Haldane’s eyes bore into his temple. Mrs. Haldane looked on with simple interest. Both might have been searching for a little more about their son’s time away from home, for all the details he could never tell them. As if another voice, a spectator to what they cared about, could give an explanation.Impossible.Eddie finished his mouthful with a hum, swallowing as he turned his gaze politely from his food to the man who addressed him.“’fraid not, sir.” He looked briefly to Andy, who was watching the pair with an uncomfortable interest, “We was officially introduced on Cape Gloucester.”“Officially?”“Yes’ir.”“Eddie was transferred to K Company as my second.” Andy confirmed.Lynn let out a soft hum. One of approval. He swallowed his mouthful of pie, nodding as he gestured with his fork.“If not Quantico then,” He continued, “Where did you attend officer’s school, Lieutenant?”Ah. Quantico. The Marine Corps base, with officer’s training school to match.The question left a moment of pause to fill the air, rising with the steam and stagnating as their plates turned colder with every mouthful. It was a blessing to have the food present, to use it as a smokescreen behind which Eddie could hide the sinking feeling that took hold of his chest. Another forkful of vegetables conveniently stopping him from speaking was an excellent reprieve, and an even better excuse.For how he blinked, could no longer hold Mr. Haldane’s gaze. How his eyes darted uneasily down, at his plate, at the floor, back to a speck of fluff on the tablecloth. Anywhere but into the expectant abyss of that man’s features. Mrs. Haldane was little better, chewing on her pie before looking up, as expectant as her husband.And Andy – oh, Andy. Hillbilly couldn’t bring himself to spare so much as a glance his way.He knew what he’d find, could picture it in vibrant hues. Sympathetic eyes, full of concern, full of apologies undeserved. Full of embarrassment, caused by the very person he had eagerly welcomed into his home.(Had he taken the time to check, Eddie might have noticed that it wasn’t him Andy stared towards. It was across the table, to its head. And his gaze was full of anything but sympathy.)“I-” Hillbilly cleared his throat, “I didn’t go t’ officer’s school.”Another pause, lacking silence like the last. Interrupted by the clinking of cutlery and the soft swish of fabric and the buzz of the lights. Cooing birds outside marked the sun dropping below the horizon. None of it was loud enough to rip away the mocking laughter beating against Eddie’s skull.Lynn sipped his drink. His eyes were shadowed, masked, retreating behind his spectacles.“Mnn.” He swallowed, his brow creased in honest confusion, “But you are a first lieutenant-?”“Battlefield commission.” Andy uttered around the food he was chewing.His father ignored him, looking only at Hillbilly.“Yes, I-” A surprised glance at Ack Ack, quickly returned to Lynn upon better judgement, punctuated Eddie’s response, “I was given m’ commission on Guadalcanal. I was an enlisted man before then.”“You must have spent quite some time in the Corps.” Mr. Haldane deduced.“Yes’ir.” The lieutenant said. His words were almost mournful. “Eight years.”An admission that had each of his hosts’ motions slowing to a halt, forks held frozen halfway between their plates and lips. Again, Hillbilly refused to read Andy’s reaction. For the life of him he couldn’t remember if he’d told the man such a detail. Or, more horribly, whether he’d lied about it.Instead, Eddie turned his eyes forcefully upon Lynn. A hard stare, one every man in King Company had come to know. And every man in Fox Company before them. And every mouthy fucker he’d shared his barracks with back at boot camp too.Steel and fire in an unmovable eruption that expressed exactly how many inches he would move on a topic, a debate, or an order. A fat-fucking-zero. Judgement, that was what his eyes demanded this time.Mr. Haldane sipped his drink once more. Sat back in his chair, cutlery laid to rest for a moment as he nodded. Spectacles were carefully removed, scrubbed against the fabric of his shirt cuff. When his eyes returned to Hillbilly, they were no longer shielded by panes of glass.“Then I must thank you for your long service, Lieutenant.” Lynn said.It was difficult for Eddie to hear. Because he’d never heard it before.It must have shown. Maybe in his wide eyes, glassy and confused, or the way his lips parted as if he might speak but no words could muster. Either way, Mrs. Haldane read it as it was; a topic too weighty for the dinner table.“That’s enough, Lynn.” She scolded playfully, “This young man didn’t haul himself all the way to Lawrence to talk about last year’s war.”A soft chuckle erupted across the table, the tension diminished as the subject was quietly omitted from the evening’s agenda. Eddie took a moment to breathe, lean back and straighten his jacket before continuing with his pie. Now cold, but he would never complain. A full course meal was far beyond his usual window of experience. He relished every mouthful; hot, tepid, or cold as the grave.The discussion moved onto Lynn’s shortcomings of always attempting some form of debate across his wife’s fine cooking. Appropriately, and confident that he could make no worse disturbances than he already had, Eddie made sure to compliment Mrs. Haldane’s work. Perhaps a little crudely, but she seemed pleased enough to let it slide.From fish pie, they moved to the garden. And from there, to the city beyond the tree line.“Lieutenant Jones is from West Virginia.” Mrs. Haldane explained.Lynn sent her a look that spoke volumes as to how obvious that information was. A slight bump in proceedings for their guest, who’s shoulders tensed just a little, suddenly extremely conscious of the thick, rough twangs of his accent once again.“Is this your first time in Lawrence?” Mr. Haldane asked. His frown was one of curiosity.“Yes’ir.”“Oh, Andrew-!” Mrs. Haldane cooed, her hand moving to grip her son’s arm, “You must show our guest around town.”Her husband smiled fondly into his glass. Andy looked to his mother with the same adoration.“He won’t be here forever – oh, of course you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, Lieutenant –” (Eddie managed a cheerful “You’re too kind, ma’am.” between her cries.) “But he’s come such a long way, it’d be ghastly for him not to be given a tour!”A glance down the table revealed a highly approving nod from his father, leaving Andy to turn back to their guest with a raised eyebrow and warm grin. His mother still clung to his arm, jostling him playfully, his pause for thought causing her mock-pain.“If Eddie’s open to the idea…” The captain said, expecting his lieutenant to finish for him.Eddie scoffed, a noise of genuine offense erupting from his throat.“And miss the honour of a grand tour by m’ former captain?”He looked to Mrs. Haldane then, who lent on her hand and returned his gaze with an affectionate stare, terribly pleased by his agreement. Hillbilly shook his head, as if horrified by the implication he would decline such a request.“I’d be mad!”The words left Andy beaming. Mr. and Mrs. Haldane retired early. The working week hadn’t changed for a war, it wouldn’t change for an uninvited guest. Lynn disappeared up the stairs as his wife lingered in the kitchen doorway, her son assuring her that he would take care of the dishes. She seemed reluctant to leave the scene, regardless of his assertions. Each stair creaked softly as she finally ascended them, leaving the bottom floor in a relative silence.Crickets had already begun to sing across the grass, just beyond the windowpane. Out the front, the flag had fallen still. It would be a quiet night.“Y’ mother’s a fine cook.” Eddie said.Metal squeaked where Andy’s palm gripped the tap, letting the water begin its plummet into the basin. Warm moonlight illuminated his face where it reflected off the white porcelain, the window beginning to cloud with steam from the bowl.“I certainly can’t dispute the fact.” He agreed, “Her mother taught her everything she knew. It’s funny, even now I can still remember the smells I would come home to when grandma visited.”Turning off the tap with another squeak, the captain opened the buttons of his shirt cuffs. The fabric was folded back, up to his elbows. Eddie pulled off his jacket. Andy noticed. He let out a breathless laugh, hanging his head.“Eddie, you don’t-”Eddie gave an interrupting grunt, brow furrowed as he continued rolling up his sleeves.“Can’t wash up, can’t take the floor,“ His tie was left untouched, uniform immaculate besides his bare forearms as he turned his stare on his host, “Startin’ t’ wonder if you think I’m some kinda invalid.”Instead of meeting the playful glare like he used to, Andy’s gaze moved upward. To the windowpane, now foggy from the hot water beneath. The surface of his eyes reflected it; the blurry, unfocused glass, the swirls of evaporating vapour. An image lacking clarity, just as the water lacked solidity.He didn’t speak. Merely took one of the dinner plates from the counter and submerged it in the heat.Eddie looked on silently. His frown had fallen away an age ago. Only concern filled his eyes, his head, his chest. Not his mouth, however, sealed shut in fear of disturbing their newfound peace.He could have sworn that expression was one of pain.“Will you dry for me, then?” Andy asked suddenly. His voice was as persuasive and kind as it had ever been.He turned his gaze back to Hillbilly with a smile. The spell broke, whatever tension had held such an incredible man in silence torn away by his own determination. It was inspiring to witness, even within the confines of the small kitchen.Eddie responded in turn. A lopsided smirk found his lips and he took up his place at his captain’s side. Hip to hip, belt loops brushing occasionally. He took the towel offered to him.“Sure.” Dishes cleaned and stacked to dry, the pair retired to Andy’s bedroom. The moonlight illuminated their path as they crept up the stairs like frightened teenagers, both appreciating the humour in it. Two grown men, being so tentative with their footsteps so as not to wake the parents of the house. It left crooked grins on their faces as they squeezed through the door and let it click hesitantly shut behind them, sealing their voices away behind the safety of four walls.The sheer curtains did not deter the crisp, cold light that created jagged angles across their features in the dark.Not that it mattered, they’d worked under less light with more obstacles. Eddie folded his jacket neatly, placing it defiantly beside the makeshift bed on the floor. Andy stopped where he was removing his belt, tossing it onto the spare mattress in retaliation.The pair shared a look, both of their expressions equally unimpressed. Ack Ack’s arms folded themselves leisurely across his chest. If not for the scenery, they could have been back on Pavuvu’s shooting range.“Eddie.”The taller man had no reaction, arms fallen by his sides and features lifeless.“Captain.”Andy’s eyes closed slowly for a moment, only opening halfway as his shoulders rolled in a weighty sigh. It was no illusion; he truly did look unimpressed.Eddie held firm, frown unwavering.He expected a debate, maybe even an argument. Muffled by whispers, of course, didn’t want to wake their elders. What he got was far more agonising than he could predict, unprepared in the shadows of the starlit sky.From his position beside the wall, surveying the man standing beside his own bed, Hillbilly watched his captain’s features crumble.It started with his brow, unable to afford the upkeep of such a stern and unamused frown. His pale eyebrows softened, just as his eyes fell towards the floor. Toppling downwards like he couldn’t bear to meet Eddie’s eyes. Or look at Eddie at all, in fact, even in the heavy shadows that submerged the bedroom. Andy’s forearms began to relax, drawing back from where he’d held them so strongly. Yet his shoulders seemed more deflated than ever, hands remaining tight against his chest.He looked small for once.“I don’t want to pry,” Andy asked, “But do you feel more at ease calling me ‘captain’, even here?”Pain erupted in Eddie’s temples. His jaw clenched hard enough to shatter, the question so innocent yet so insidious. To himself alone; Andrew would never seek to strike out against him with his words. Lord in Heaven knew it would cripple his lieutenant easier than any hand, blade, or bullet could.Yet Andy wasn’t looking at him, gaze still turned away. Afraid of his reaction; afraid of confirmation. Afraid of a lie to smooth over the topic.Afraid of something Eddie might say.It left a terrible, bitter taste in Hillbilly’s mouth. He chest lurched a fraction as he gagged, covering it skilfully with his teeth on his tongue. Copper replaced that black sensation in his mouth, blood erupting from where he’d bitten himself too hard. Anything to cover whatever nauseous feeling had taken him.It wasn’t that Eddie couldn’t answer.It was that he didn’t want to. And that tore at what remained of his resolve most, the thought of so blatantly keeping something from this man. Especially when he had been kind enough to ask, despite his obvious reservations.How much lower he could possibly sink, Hillbilly didn’t know. Only the most wretched of people could be so cruel as to consider lying to his captain. And there he stood, opening his mouth to lie.“I-” He stopped.The truth was just too much.In some fantastical delusion, one concocted from his nightmares, a fictional Eddie explained himself. To an audience of none in the theatre of his head, where long silent gunfire was still rattling the raftersHe explained that he called Andrew ‘captain’ because he’d thought he was dead for sure. And he’d prepared for a funeral.He explained again, recounting the statement for another try, that he called Andrew ‘captain’ because he thought he might be married. And he’d prepared for rejection.These watery attempts drug up unpleasant images of such events, flashing like bayonets in foreign moonlight. A pristine white headstone that was as ugly as a smiling couple, a familiar blond man spinning some faceless girl around in his arms. That horrid version of Eddie that thought the two equally unpalatable danced those horrors across his mind, jabbing its nasty honesty deep enough to deafen.His defence deteriorating, this honest - but fictional - Eddie tried once more to explain himself. To give the succinct verdict that might make the judge take pity and put him out of his misery with haste. Not out loud, of course.He called Andrew ‘captain’ because he thought that the man would want to leave the past – their past – behind in the mud. Left in the dirt it came from, amongst shell casings and dead men. Where bad things were done for worse reasons and boys threw away their dreams to put lighters under crab shells.He’d prepared to be turned away from this place. Instead, he was in Andrew’s family home, offered warmth, food, a place to sleep for the night.The Eddie who could put it all into words, inside the safety of his mind, paused before his final closing argument.‘You always were one to give up your bed for a leper, weren’t you, Andy.’ He thought.He was right. But he’d never say it.It was far too much for Eddie’s mouth to force out. Barbed wire was grating his throat as he tried, his own features breaking down as his brow contorted into one of aguish. It hurt. Jesus, his heart was bashing itself against his ribs. Desperate for the tiniest bump in the bone to puncture it, have him bleed out and lose consciousness in seconds. It’d keep pumping all the while, his heart, relishing the release. It would help him die.How Andy could look at him then but not a moment ago, Hillbilly would never understand. His normally filthy and rough features made an ugly display when he dared show such a weak emotion as pain.But look his captain did. It was enough.“I-” Eddie used every inch of air in his lungs to get out just a single shuddering word, his breath drawing in sharply through teeth gritted. Agony punctuated every syllable. “I thought-”Dead. Married. Ready to move on. That nasty little fictional man in his mind provided his answer; ‘Everything you could aspire to be and I could never have.’Hillbilly thought this man so far above him he couldn’t even use his first name.The longing stare Andy sent him was the only source of strength Eddie found to draw on. The light reflecting in those clear, shimmering eyes fuelled his push, dragging the thorns from his throat, through blood and bile. This man had dragged him through the mud and over one ridge after another, the least he could do was tell him the truth. It was so much less than he deserved, yet it was everything Hillbilly had to give.So he’d give it. Of course, he’d give it. He’d give it all and more.“Thought y’ wouldn’t … want t’ see me.” Eddie whispered.It would have to do.His features still drawn into that ugly face of pain, he could only watch and wait for his own destruction. For any reaction Andy might bestow upon him, whether it forced him out the front door or threw him from the window. Anything would satisfy beyond silence.Andy’s voice shook as he spoke.“Eddie-!” He said, breathless, his words more water than sound, “Eddie, I-”A feeling of sharp pain turned to a deep ache of confusion. With everything turned upon its head, Hillbilly’s shuddering chest drew in another breath. His head moved side to side in desperation, the cogs grinding against each other as they failed to harmonise. He didn’t understand. He so fatally wanted to understand.“Eddie,” Andy tried again.His voice had found a level of relative stability.“Eddie, what we had out there-” A bladed halt sliced the sentence to shreds, replaced by Andy’s own design, “What we have-”The expected lines were provided in a short but grim list; Was just circumstance. Is just a fantasy. Can never be again. Eddie silently begged him to just say it.His plea was heard, as if he’d said it all out loud.The theatre in his head didn’t crumble, it vanished as fingers dug into the bare skin of his forearms. He was suddenly gripped by warm hands, drawing his wide eyes up to the face of the man holding him. Holding him, with the force of a vice and the desperation of the dying.Fitting, Eddie felt like he was dying. Reality tended to do that to a man.He looked to his captain for an answer and he delivered. Andy always delivered.“What we have is the most important thing to ever happen to me.” He said.He said it to Eddie, and to Eddie alone. With the conviction of a man with one hand on his heart and the other on a Bible. Directly into his face, their bodies so close yet joined only by that painful grip.Andy’s eyes were fleeting, dancing over his company’s face, and searching for a reaction. A front row seat in a new theatre, one of bedroom walls and lace curtains on a stage built in reality. Where he could watch the confusion die on Hillbilly’s face and the tide of realisation run over his skin. It soaked into Eddie’s pores, sending a different signal to his rapidly thumping heart.Stop. And it might have obeyed.It certainly felt like it as the tiniest of crooked smiles took to his face. A momentary expression of relief, of elated joy, was all Andy needed to recognise a mutual understanding. (Andy always was smart. Smarter than Eddie. Smart, and charismatic, and brave, and handsome. Smart and kind and perfect.)Those desperate fingers left his forearms and moved themselves into the forest of curls sprouting from Eddie’s scalp. The movement matched the lips pushed against his, Andy spurring himself forward to force a heavy kiss upon the pair. Hillbilly would never complain, even as his back hit the wall with a thump and his skull stung from the impact.It had been noted to him that muscle memories from combat – the fixes of a rifle, the adjustments of a mortar, the sharp defences of a marine awoken in the middle of the night – never left a man.Eddie certainly agreed, though it was not a fighting reflex that had his hands grabbing Andy’s empty belt loops, tugging him closer with every ounce of strength he had left. Their slacks ground together, all clinking buttons as those hands in his hair turned to fists.A heavy but chaste kiss turned rough, the warm sunshine over Cape Gloucester turned to a howling storm. Even real rain couldn’t calm the heat of their mouths, teeth catching as they desperately searched for each other’s tongues. Only the tiniest breaks were taken for heavy draws of air, before they repeated the dance, heads angled to better lap at the inside of their partner’s mouth.It was reflex, for sure. Only Eddie never remembered either of their cheeks being wet, at least not with anything that tasted salty and warm.Andy’s hands left his hair, his hips their next stop. That hard grip crushed the fabric of his shirt as he grabbed, Eddie’s own hands releasing the man’s belt loops to instead take his cheeks under his palms. Wet tears caressed his skin and oh, that had him choking back a desperate sob.He had never wanted to see Andrew cry, least of all over a man like him. (Had he been a spectator and not an accessory to it all, Hillbilly would have told his captain such a boy wasn’t worth it, son of a bitch didn’t deserve his remorse.)Eyes closed for the kiss was enough of an excuse not to look, but he could surely feel. The pads of his thumbs ran over Ack Ack’s damp cheeks, longing to scrub those stains away. It had Eddie leaning forward, pushing his tongue deeper into Andy’s wanting mouth, moving his lips as if to show him just how sorry he was.A hard tug from his captain had Hillbilly’s dress shirt falling free of his pants. Sweaty, familiar fingers ran up his waist, over his ribs. Over the horrible, ugly scar tissue that spanned the entirety of his right side.The kissing stopped.Slowly, Andy pulled away. His hands stayed.Their eyes met in a tearful reunion, though neither of them had let anymore fall since their lips had met. Eddie looked ashamed of what could be felt beneath the perfect fingers of his captain. Mottled skin, burned and blistered by explosives and peppered with hard scars. Nothing someone lucky enough to have Andy’s hands on them should possess.Ack Ack felt differently.“I swore you weren’t breathing…” He whispered, his breath tickling Hillbilly’s lips. His gaze flickered to something a thousand miles away, replaying the scene over in his head. “I thought…”They both knew what he’d thought. Neither let it slip from their throats, as if it might undo all the circumstances that had led them here.Eddie’s fingers moved to brush Andy’s temple. The smallest of flinches marked his hand to freeze. He’d found the scar.Hillbilly traced it under his thumb. From the raised, pink tissue on his forehead made by the impact, up along the fine surgery incision that ran all the way into the man’s hair, right over his skull.“We both did.” Eddie managed. It was enough.It had always been enough. Andy’s head shook just a fraction, his smile watery and full of disbelief.“I’m so glad to see you, Eddie.”Between his hands grabbing Andy’s jaw and their lips finding each other again, Hillbilly managed to speak.“You too, Andy.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
There’d been blisters, on more than just their feet. When they sailed free from Cape Gloucester, laid out in their stockings and t-shirts across the navy’s metal deck. The sun hadn’t given up tormenting them since Guadalcanal, it refused to disappear for anything short of a divine wind, forcing rainclouds across its glare. If there was a distinct smell of sweat, old or new, no marine mentioned it. It’d be miraculous if any of them could even register it anymore.The pair of officers – a lieutenant and captain, respectively – had been given one shaded alcove of the ship’s taffrail. Out of respect for their rank, they imagined. A small nod to those who had led King Company through the soaking jungle.The marines around them slept. Some with faces turned towards the sun, scorching under its gaze, others curled up, shielded by their hands. Cushioned on one another without a moment’s thought, without an ounce of hesitation.Exhaustion only broke civilian bonds down further, already weak under combat fatigue. It rebuilt stronger, less dignified ones in their place.As dull blue eyes watched the winch ropes sway, Lieutenant Jones listened to the sea. (He still felt uncomfortable with the title, lost in its size and weight. He’d earned it, but he didn’t suit it.)Waves rolled over each other behind him, the sound marking their departure from a faithful depiction of Hell. Sweetly crashing against the sides of the boat, coaxing him to sleep. They were nothing compared to the soft breathing against his neck, nowhere near as loud.And the waves didn’t have his heart racing.Captain Haldane had waited for the majority of his men to fall asleep, before allowing his head to slowly sink against Eddie’s shoulder. Supporting his weight, cushioning his skull and mop of dirty hair. Beneath his locks, his brow was finally relieved of its constant crease of concern. Free of the war, for but a moment.Well, in some sense. Not free, but distracted. One of them by sleep, the other by the sleeping.Hillbilly would have been content to sit and watch the sky pass overhead indefinitely. Forever, if God intended it. (Perhaps he’d slipped beneath the waters of Gloucester’s streams, or succumbed to malaria in reality. His firm belief that he would be wandering surely downwards after death was all that kept him from considering the idea.)The world saw fit to reward him, instead. Or rather, Andy did, adjusting his head against his living cushion with a soft hum. The fingers of his hand, black with dirt around the nails and stained with mud, slid further into the private crevasse between the pair. Formed of their outstretched legs, a valley of green cotton and two undisturbed arms, left boneless from exhaustion.It was here that Andrew entwined his fingers with Eddie’s, threading their hands together in the unseen shadow of their bodies. Flesh knotted with dirty flesh, gripped tight despite how it ached to do so.There was no force strong enough to keep Hillbilly’s sigh of relief at bay, to stop him resting his blistered temple against the warmth of Andy’s hair.They’d sung hymns on the trip towards Gloucester. Heaven had been silent, until now. It descended for but a blissful intake of breath, formed in the heat of Andrew’s hand on his and the lull of sleep that took the pair to darkness. A warm darkness, neither frozen cold nor burning hot.A darkness, Eddie knew then, he would follow Andy into forever, should he ask.He remembered waking up as they came to Pavuvu, but not the walk over the dock. The feel of the sand had been so unnatural, as if shards of glass were dragging him to their depths, compared with the hardened jungle roots of the Cape.Marine upon marine had marched into the rickety, desolate encampment. Each of them had gazed upon it fondly, humbled by their previous lodgings. A gleaming New York hotel sparkled in their eyes. The rotten coconuts had been cleaned away. There was no finer accommodation than those huts on Pavuvu.An angel bellowed from on high, breaking off the final shackles of combat. ‘Go and get your chow.’It was Andy. Of course, who else would be so kind. What might have been a cheer rippled through the rows of men, the lurching of bodies enough to cover the firm grip that took to Hillbilly’s sleeve.“Lieutenant.” The owner of the hand had said, as Eddie drew his eyes over the man’s face, “Do you have a moment?”Hillbilly didn’t remember his response. Possibly a grunt or incredibly witty remark.All he could hear was how adamantly he had spoken in his mind, left undiscovered in his personal silence. ‘I have all the time ‘n the world f’ you.’A hand on his lower back – friendly, supportive, keeping a limping and unsteady comrade upright despite Hillbilly being neither – had guided him towards the officers’ tents. Bigger (marginally) and darker than the enlisted counterparts. Eddie often found his fingers lingering on the heavy canvas in awe.Not today, however. The sun hung low in the sky, a position quickly matched by his dungarees as they crumpled to the sandy ground. The tarp door had barely fallen shut before Andy’s lips were on his, tugging desperately at his webbing. Pants and underwear fell away long before their pistol belts did, grasping blindly at each other’s thighs, heavy handed and without pause for air. Eddie had to laugh.The smell of sweat returned to them that evening, as time drew on and their bare skin remained pressed against each other’s.It was crude, unseemly. A rough and reckless fuck, with barely enough time to slide a condom on Andy’s cock before Eddie’s knees were bent up to his shoulders. Careless, effective.An incident to remember. It left them breathless. The bedroom’s pale wall felt cool against his back, shoulder blades laid bare as his shirt was left to slide towards the floor. A broad chest, mottled with the dark lines of ink to contrast with the pale skin of scars, still held proudly up to marine standard.Eddie couldn’t hide how it unnerved him. The cold had no part in his visible recoiling, chin lowered as if to hide behind his unruly curls. Away from Andy’s warm lips and pleasurable kisses, mores the pity. Arms tightening against his sides despite the grip he refused to slacken against his captain’s waist.It wasn’t the same.The Pacific, despite its raging sunshine, had been a dark place. Shadowed tents and murky foxholes and caving buildings and Melbourne bars. There was no light to see, no time to pick apart the details. There was a war on, boys. There was a war on.There was no war here. Not anymore, and it laid the reality of both men before the moonlight, highlighted in the cold tones streaming through the lace curtain.Andy, naturally, had nothing to hide. He was as handsome as he’d ever been, scar and all. The moon’s light bathed him as it would an artist’s sculpture, cascading off every angle of his face and wrinkle of his clothes. He was dusted in a white glow, strength meeting beauty where it would in marble.Even protected by the man’s shadow – Andy’s back to the distant window – Eddie felt unworthy.It had occurred to him on the long drive that he was not the only option available anymore, though he suspected he never had been. This was not circumstance; they were both free to seek better, brighter horizons.Andy wasn’t leaving yet. He had no intention to. His hands unclipping Eddie’s belt buckle made sure this was understood and the taller of the two failed to hold back his pleased hum. It was followed by a bend at his knees, Hillbilly intending to lower himself down to the floor. Take his captain in his mouth, let him fuck his face against the wall if he wanted. Whatever he liked, Eddie would be struggling not to cum regardless.A tender grip took his forearm before he could enact his idea, Andy’s eyes meeting his over the inch or so between them. Strong fingers slowly straightened the lieutenant back up, leaving his chest drawn in and his shoulders back against the cool surface of the bedroom wall. It would have unnerved him, the apparent rejection, had Andy not looked so sincere.Fabric glided over fabric, his captain’s knee sliding elegantly between the willing gap Hillbilly made between his legs. A heavy thigh lent against his crotch, crushing buttons and a belt loop without concern. It had Eddie shuddering, so horribly aware of how long it had been.If the shimmer of sweat on Andy’s brow were any consolation, it had been too long for him too.Yet his motions remained slow. At least, slower than they could both recall; Eddie’s belt was still tugged hastily from his hips, cast aside onto the useless extra mattress. The leather laid side-by-side with Andy’s, as Hillbilly’s uncertain fingers tangled themselves in the sides of the man’s shirt. He was unsure where he was being led.All that mattered was his willingness to follow.Dress slacks crumpled to the floor, beside his shirt, leaving Eddie standing in naught but his underwear. The chills were lost beneath the heat of Andy’s mouth against his neck, open mouthed kisses leaving patches of warmth that sparked fires in Hillbilly’s chest. His curls lent back against the wall and his closed eyes turned Heavenwards. His thighs felt tense around Ack Ack’s knee, that had returned to pressing upwards into the front of his underwear.A hand took one side of his neck, thumb against the edge of his face. Eddie’s eyes opened as he felt heavy breath tickle the untouched side of his head. A kiss was laid chastely against his cheek as Andy spoke.“I love every inch of you, Eddie.” He said quietly.Hillbilly didn’t understand what he meant.Not until Andy’s lips returned to his throat, then his collar, then over his chest. Laying a minefield of blessings with expert care, letting his mouth trail over the thin layer of curls dusting the man’s torso. Moving east, down, over the crumpled patch of skin that shielded Eddie’s heart.It had the lieutenant’s breath hitching, chin knocking his collar as he jerked his head downwards. Hooded eyes watching, waiting, unsteady hands burying themselves shamefully in his captain’s hair.Andy didn’t mind. Instead, his stayed where he was, bent over with his grip on Eddie’s hips supporting his weight. Face level with the palm-sized scar that twisted and coiled over a thin surgical incision and heavy lump that marked the bullet’s entry point. Marks upon marks, of those who desired to kill and those who wished to save.Andy laid firstly a soft, gentle kiss there. Unable to feel the details through desecrated nerves, Eddie still had the air escaping his lungs. It was the tiniest pressure, tickling his chest, something he would usually ignore. Yet, he could watch now, see Andy kiss the scar again; open mouthed and wet and warm.It was the warmth Hillbilly’s felt most. The heat of Ack Ack’s mouth - tongue moving in between all the dips and cracks of the ruined skin - fell through his chest, his ribs. It melted over his rapidly drumming heart and had Eddie closing his eyes.He understood what Andy had meant now.The tension left him and his captain felt it fall away beneath his hands, beneath his lips. It allowed him to move on freely, a pleased hum brushing Eddie’s skin as the man moved over to his side. The shrapnel wounds, torn pieces of metal, covered by an ugly layer of burns. A fine masterpiece. An ode to hideousness.It turned to crumpled paper beneath Andy’s kisses. A love letter, instead, marked by all the spots he chose to press his lips against, run his tongue over. It distracted from the thumbs that hooked over the band of Eddie’s underwear, sliding them carefully down his thighs.The frayed cotton reached his knees with a grunt, Hillbilly torn away from his scars as fresh air brushed the skin of his cock, sprung free by the dropping of his underwear. Andy was content to move his mouth back up to Eddie’s throat as the man kicked off the restricting fabric.Ack Ack’s hand moved steadily, down to grip his lieutenant’s cock, and that was when Eddie had to stop. An aggressive grunt accompanied his fist around Andy’s wrist, those warm fingers still cupped around his flushed member. Pink and full in his captain’s hand, excited by little more than kisses and the rough pressure of the other man’s thigh.Their gazes met, and one had the audacity to look concerned.“I’ll cum.” Hillbilly explained bluntly, the words scraping his dry throat as he rested their foreheads together with a heavy breath.Andy visibly relaxed, a relieved chuckle bubbling in his chest. The fear he had mistepped left him as quickly as it had arrived, though his hand did not move.“Is that so bad?” The blonde asked. Despite the warmth of his tone, there was a cold humour behind it.A sound somewhere between an indignant laugh and a growl rolled off Eddie’s tongue. His hard grip on Andy’s wrist moved instead to his hair, both hands fisting in the locks there. It had his captain letting out a similar sound; a rough, unpolished grunt that rumbled in his chest and lasted a moment longer than needed.They shared a forceful kiss before pulling back.Their foreheads pressed hard against each other, held in place by Hillbilly’s grip buried deep in Andy’s hair. It was a moment of heavy panting, breath mixing in steam clouds before their eyes. Not that they could look at anything but each other, eyes shining from more than tears now.“Andy-” Eddie began.He hoped the pent-up lust and hardened tone would cover the vulnerability beneath, the dying embers of a fear so close to being extinguished.Andy’s free hand moved to his hips. Tiny circles were left in the wake of his moving thumb. He wanted to hear the rest.“I ain’t fucked no one since.” Hillbilly admitted softly, punctuating the sentence with a thick swallow, “I- I couldn’t. It just- … They weren’t you.”The small, sharp inhale Andy drew was enough. The instinctive tightening of his hand was just a bonus. It had Eddie’s voice tipped with pleasure, first few words a blissful hum before he steadied himself.“I just want you. I know it don’t mean the same-” A pause, marked with a disappointed huff, “-as when a man says it t’ his girl, but…”A smile took Andy’s lips, still gazing at the face pressed forehead to forehead with his own. He let free his own warm sigh.“It means the same to me.” He said.Eddie laughed. A nervous giggle of sorts, watery in places and repressed in the rest. But the sound escaped him because he let it. Because Andy was allowed to hear such things.“Then,” Hillbilly asked, moving around the lump in his throat, “Will y’ have me, Andrew Haldane?”He didn’t use ‘captain’ this time.The moan of pleasure that rattled Andy’s chest was the only warning Eddie got. Those warm fingers left his cock, those handsome features dipping down so they could grab his thighs. The bedroom wall scraped Hillbilly’s back as he was hoisted upwards, grabbing Ack Ack’s shoulders in a moment of unsteadiness. He was lifted into the man’s arms, his gasp of surprise turned into the bells of laughter. Strong legs wrapped around a still clothed waist, Eddie’s thighs supported by Andy as he buried his face in his lieutenant’s neck.He breathed deep for a moment. Familiar scents – sweat, marine cloth, cigarette smoke – met with new and exciting ones. Soap, car leather. A distinct warm, earthy smell that had been shrouded by gun oil and seawater until now.Eddie ran his hands through Andy’s hair, distracting him, moving those stray locks from his face.Ack Ack looked up at him, still leaning them both casually against the wall. Naked in his arms, his handsome lieutenant, who had his fingers in his hair, gazed down like Andy had just told him of the Japanese surrender.Didn’t he know he’d been the sun on Andrew’s horizon for four long years?Knowing Eddie, probably not. That didn’t matter; that was past.This moonlit bedroom, their chests heaving against each other, sharing hard-earned, hard-fought warmth in the privacy of their homeland; this was what mattered.Andy pressed a heavy kiss to the other man’s lips. Eddie parted his without hesitation. Between breaks from air, Ack Ack replied in a breathless whisper.“I’ll have you for as long as you’ll have me.”It set every nerve in Eddie’s body alight with joy.Heavy kissing turned to a rough, forceful exchange. The bedroom wall peeled away from Hillbilly’s shoulders, feet thumping against the floorboards until his back made sudden contact with a new, softer surface. Andy’s mattress bowed in their presence, dipping under their weight before springing back. Nails scraped skin as the remaining layers of cloth were ripped away, tossed free of the scene. They were no longer required.Between tongues running over each other, teeth biting lips and the moans that followed as Eddie tugged demandingly; there were moments of muffled names. Quieted by courtesy rather than absolute fear. Waking the couple who opened their home to this would not be doing right by them.The moonlight was their guide, lining every sweaty muscle, every writhing limb with silver. It might have been romantic, were they man and wife. Were they not two hardened men, products of the Marine Corps, who could barely remember a world without gunfire and black smoke.It might have been romantic, for all its flaws and rough motions. And it was, regardless.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Beneath Andy’s sweater vest and pale shirt, not much had changed. Maybe a little thinner where his muscles curved over his arms and built the angles of his thighs, but that was all. And now with the exceptional addition of being clean, all the dust and dirt and grime of war scrubbed mercifully free.He was beautiful.Eddie knew that already. He just hadn’t appreciated it enough. (In his own opinion.)Sheets crumpled beneath bent knees; Andy held himself perfectly over Eddie’s equally naked body. Moonlight ricocheted between them, reflecting off the blonde’s chest down to the man sprawled out under him. Legs spread, thighs resting against each other.There was silence at they looked at each other, lungs filling with the warm air of the night.Waiting, enjoying. Catching a moment of rest before they both exploded. Grenades tended to set each other off after all, and Andy’s cock had been equally hard when Eddie had pulled it free from his slacks.A careful hand was placed beside brown curls, a tender face leaning down to plant a soft kiss to their owner’s lips. There was electricity bubbling under their skin, prickling every nerve. It took a strong willpower from both sides to keep from simply rutting blindly against each other until they were satisfied.Neither wanted that, too desperate to make this something lasting. It couldn’t be done, but fuck, if they wouldn’t try.The muscles of Eddie’s ass were strung tighter than a bow, his pants barely clearing his teeth as he met Andy’s stare with a mix of agony and bliss. Sweat beaded across his forehead, unshed tears still threatening his sight. All consuming; it was too much.Their pace had come to a lurching halt where Andy hovered over him, mirroring the same pained expression. Equally brushed with sweat, raindrops moving across the pane of his neck. Wet hair struck his eyebrows, locks turned to heavy strands.His need to continue eclipsed only by sheer force of will, demanding he stop and think.A moment’s pause. A foreign nation they’d never known before now.Asking permission had been left behind during the war, along with other luxuries. Clean bodies, comfortable mattresses, a much-needed shower post-relations. All gone.There wasn’t time.If the sex had to stop, it would take a firm hand or, if necessary, a swift knee to the stomach. It had never come to that, of course, but they both knew there would be no quiet words in between. Not enough time.There was never enough time.Because the dawn would break soon. There would be planes flying overhead, engines roaring. Guns would start cracking, boots marching. The island would need to be vacated, saving or condemning them to the next. The tent would rattle, the canvas shudder, and someone would need their captain and lieutenant back in action. So slide on a rubber and get to fucking, because there’s a war on, boys.There was a war on. Always raging ever onward, even when unseen and unsung.Unspoken words were everything, the backbone of their relationship, their survival. A hardened skeleton that held their love, their lives, together in dark jungles and across dusty ridges.Without the planes, the only engine roaring was in Andy’s head. Gears grinding uncomfortably as those unspoken rules and silent permissions failed to meet the pale bed sheets, the lace curtains, the chirping birds. They’d never needed them before, never voiced any agreement.Did that silent permission still stand?Hillbilly swallowed thickly. Wetting his throat, gasping for air. He hadn’t the heart to scream so a rough demand would suffice.“Stop teasin’ and fuck me, Andy.” He spat out, frustration and lust dripping from each syllable.It was enough to ease whatever moment of concern had gripped Ack Ack’s mind.Their heavy grunts were smothered by another crushing kiss. Throaty huffs turned to drawn-out growls as the movement bent Andy down, low enough to brush their aching cocks against each other. Barely a second of weak friction, yet it had both of them twitching, flushed and tense and craving more.Sweaty fingers left indents in the sheets as the blond pushed himself away forcefully, a sound of contempt bubbling from his chest. An anger at having to leave Eddie’s embrace, leave him groaning on the mattress, if only to reach over to the bedside table. A fumbling mess finally gave Andy what he wanted; a well-worn tin of Vaseline. The fading letters shed a certain light on life in the Haldane household, though Eddie didn’t notice.If precision was needed, they’d both be ruined since their thoughts became quickly occupied again. A heavy kiss found their lips, still tingling from earlier, as trained fingers scooped a generous helping of jelly from the tub. It was smeared over Andy’s cock by his own hand first, having to pull away as clenched teeth kept him together.Clenched teeth turned to a shuddering grunt as Eddie’s fingers slid under his, gripping the base of his shaft and running up, up, over his head. Spreading lube and pleasure in their wake, leaving their victim to bury his face in his tormentor’s neck, his fist all but tearing the sheets. He bit down on Hillbilly’s collar for relief and the hand jerked free with an equally tormented grunt.There wasn’t enough time here either, it seemed, though for reasons so wildly different from before.The Vaseline coating Eddie’s fingers wasn’t wasted, put to good use as he shoved a finger inside himself. It slid in without complaint, though he’d argue otherwise as he tasted how good it felt. Imagining the stretch of Andy’s cock was almost too much, especially as a second and third finger were hastily added.The digits moved in and out of his hole easily, Hillbilly fucking himself desperately as their chests slid against each other. A glance down revealed Andy had put a firm grip around the base of his cock, forefinger and thumb meeting in a vice-like bind. He was holding back, every accidental brush against each other causing more harm than good.Patience was not on the table tonight. If they were gambling men, they would lose.Slick fingers glistened in the moonlight as Eddie yanked his hand free, pulling his arm out from between them to scrape desperately at Andy’s nape. Trying to find a grip, nails digging into the skin beneath neatly trimmed hair. Their gusts of breath twirled against each other, lips close enough to feel the warmth as the blond shakily brought himself back up. Hand back beside those dark curls, now soaked through, other guiding his cock into Eddie’s waiting hole.The two touched, a familiar join, and Hillbilly’s eyes snapped wide beneath a furrowed brow. A hiss marked his violent draw of breath through gritted teeth. Their gazes locked as the slick head of Andy’s cock pushed against his entrance, sharing an intensity neither of them were sure they could remember.Perhaps on Cape Gloucester. Or the ridges of Peleliu.Never during sex.Andy pushed inside him. Almost one swift motion, with only a single shuddering pause to moan once his head was past the ring of muscle. A second hand fell beside Eddie’s curls, caging him between the blonde’s strong arms. The trapped marine choked, whatever noise he was trying to make disappearing as his chest lurched. Hesitation left them both as Ack Ack pulled back to thrust, to push forward for another shot at that pleasure. It buried him all the way inside, the grip on the back of his neck becoming violent.Eddie’s free hand fumbled, his chest heaving as he franticly tried to get a grip on his cock, to put a tight hold on its base. Not quick enough. The brush of his fingers was only extra stimulation; it did nothing to stop his hips jerking, crying out as threads of pale white splashed across his stomach. Trembling thighs tightened around Andy’s waist, curled toes leaving heels to dig into his back. It only pulled him closer, deeper, as Hillbilly’s head fell back against the mattress.His groan was exquisite to his love’s ears, warming every nerve in his already alight body. Andy let out a noise that in any other moment might represent pain, but the movement of his hips cried otherwise. A perfect, rough rhythm had him shoving in and out of Eddie’s ass, erratic and without poise. His eyes remained open and alert to the sight of Hillbilly milking the last few drops of cum from his cock.Another grunt of agony, louder than before, left Andy’s forehead to connect with the other man’s chest. Wet and dislodged locks met the panting curves of Eddie’s muscles. The momentary tremble that ran down from Ack Ack’s shoulders, followed by another short, violent shudder, left the room in silence. Two voices remained as wordless as ever, only their heavy breathing revealing any life in the house.Panting in unison, without even trying. Chests rising only to fall a second later, unable to hold much more than a spoonful of air.Outside, the moonlight had shifted. The American flag remained unmoved. Birds chirped quietly in the dark.A peaceful night in a peace-ridden country.Life began to return to the room in time. Andy’s forehead slid easily over Eddie’s chest, head rising up to reveal his slack jaw and half lidded eyes. A similar expression was mirrored as Hillbilly craned his neck, chin hitting his collar as he let their gazes meet. A hand came up to greet him, running sloppily over his cheek. Petting him, leaving a lopsided grin across his face.Andy grinned too, for a moment, tired and satisfied.It fell away quickly, brow furrowing uncertainly as his eyes travelled downwards. The petting hand retreated and his back arched, much to Eddie’s confusion, as Ack Ack looked down between the two of them. Hips retreating slowly, carefully. Hillbilly breathed a satisfied sigh as they watched Andy’s softening cock slip from inside him.A blink later and a droplet of pale liquid followed. Warm as it ran down between a pair of muscled cheeks, leaving the blond man in a state of tense and silent panic.His eyes snapped back up to Eddie, suddenly cutting through his bliss induced haze. Sobriety was a painful thing, the effect clear across Ack Ack’s face. It filled his eyes and kept him speechless, lip quivering as if all the fear from Peleliu had finally broken out and drowned his heart anew.Now sober himself, Hillbilly swallowed and glanced briefly at the scene below. He looked back up at Andy just as quickly.Two careful hands rose to cup Andy’s jaw. Fingers attempted to soothe away that pained expression.“S’alright.” Eddie whispered “S’alright.”His thumbs moving across Ack Ack’s cheeks could feel the tension, not yet released. Not yet satisfied with his consent.“Eddie-” The blonde tried.“No.” Any further protest was cut down by Hillbilly’s soft but firm denial. “Not anymore.”Those hands holding Andy’s head reignited, pulling gently on his jaw. He went willingly, arms bent as he was drawn down. Down to meet his love, lips pressing together carefully. A fragile kiss, turned soft as the fear began to ebb away from Ack Ack’s shoulders. Tongues brushed and dry skin became wet again, open mouths finally allowed to break their moment of grief. There was no sound bar their lips moving against each other, kissing breathlessly in the dark.In the cold light and warm embrace, Eddie made out the angles of the face that pulled slowly back from his. Parted lips, particularly, as if preparing to say something. A threatening stare was sent upwards.Andy persisted.“Are you sure?” He asked.The reply came without hesitation; “Always.”As if on cue, a quiet burble met their ears. The pair glanced down in the direction of their still slick and dripping cocks, soiling their chests and now the sheets respectively. Along with the culprit of the disturbance, more warm cum running down the valley of Eddie’s ass.The pair stifled their embarrassment behind childish grins.Smiles swallowed up when their lips met again. Whatever hurt Andy had felt take him melted away as they kissed, returning to the comfort of each other’s mouths.They dragged themselves up the bed, laying side by side against the pillows. A mountain of the things, enclosing them in their little mattress foxhole. The covers were kicked up by their feet, sluggishly pulled over their bodies. Sliding over strong thighs, heaving chests, tense shoulders.Their warmth filled any gap between them, where their stomachs couldn’t reach or their arms left spaces as they clung to each other.The lace curtains fluttered in the night’s breeze. Both closed their eyes.This wasn’t like the Canal, or Cape Gloucester, or Peleliu. It didn’t resemble Pavuvu either.Because their cheeks were caressed by soft, pale fabric. The finest silk in comparison to dry dirt or scratchy canvas. There was no true privacy under pacific stars or even the densest jungle leaves.Here, in this new, unfamiliar world, the safety of Andrew’s bedroom had been carved out for them. It wasn’t perfect, even with strong arms around Hillbilly’s waist and his breath mixing with his love’s. Their foreheads pressed together, limbs tangled in their embrace.It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t safe. But it could have fooled him.What it definitely wasn’t? Permanent.The thought crossed Eddie’s mind like cool wind on a trembling back. Alighting every nerve as his eyes slipped open. Pale, broken blue met the moonlight. He thanked the Lord for his luck; with Andy facing the window, he could see the angles of his features illuminated.Beautiful. And fleeting.The moon was cold here in Lawrence, Massachusetts. The moon over the pacific had always been warm, orange or gold. Dark as fire, ever casting terrifying shadows across their bodies.Lying side by side with his sleeping captain, Eddie recalled the same thoughts then as he had now. A painful sting pricked at his eyes, left damp droplets on the pillows. Silent, never to disturb the man breathing so peacefully before him.Hillbilly had learnt to cry quietly long ago.And to mourn a death before it happened, as inevitable as the rising of the sun.Back then, it had been just that; death. Andy’s death.A carefully timed bullet, a stray shrapnel piece. A crack, a boom, a grenade, a mortar. Drowning in mud or coughing up dirt, disease stalking or heat ripping. Every grain of sand another opportunity for that impermanence to rear its ugly, fateful head.Apparently, its bite had come close. So very, very close.Eddie didn’t want to stare. A watery view of the scar that mottled Ack Ack’s temple was bad enough, disappearing beneath his hairline. It had Hillbilly squeezing his eyes shut, clenching his teeth hard enough they might crack. Anything to keep him silent, to keep himself steady.No stutters and no shakes. Nothing, nothing to wake his sleeping captain.Heavy breaths left his nose when he dared let them, eyes open again and wandering over that moonlit face. Old creases remained, set into that handsome brow, carved a million miles from here. Yet he slept on, lost to the softness of the bed and the pleasure of their night together.Safe in Hillbilly’s grasp, comforted by the warmth of his skin.A slow blink had Eddie succumbing to the same madness. Something he would have fought, hailed as false and idiotic back then. To sleep comfortably, in the quiet of the moon and the safety of a bedroom. Tears shed and left to dry on his cheeks, lost to the soft fabric.He eventually fell asleep, in Andy’s arms, his arm around the man’s waist. Skin against skin, warm and content under the duvet.Mourning a loss before it could come.Death didn’t have to be close anymore, lurking down their rifle sights. Life would just as cruelly take Andy from him.He knew it would.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Two belts decorated the unused mattress.Crossed over each other, entangled in a bizarre display of leather. One bearing the distinct brass buckle, heavy in the hand, of a Marine Corps uniform. They were dark marks on a canvas of just-off-white, as much of the pristine bedroom wore. Pale shades of an earthly Heaven, allowing two deserving men to rest peacefully in the unlasting bliss of uninterrupted slumber.Lace curtains tickled their faces back into the deceitfully serene world of the living. The fabric was mercifully brushed aside by Andy’s fingers. He spoke softly in the rays of light breaking the windowpane.“Morning.” He said.Eddie grunted instinctively, still not having opened his eyes. He smiled instead. He could recognise that voice through greater pressures than sleepiness.“Mornin’.” He whispered.The warm draw of a deep, pleasant sleep was beaten only by the thought of seeing Ack Ack’s features so close to his. They were indeed the reward he expected, Hillbilly’s eyes opening to gaze upon the handsome curves of his lover’s face. Softly illuminated in the shadows of the morn, a grin growing stronger as tiredness fell away to similar elation.It was the slow slide into consciousness they had ever been denied and had both longed desperately for. Enshrined with the perfect support of a comfortable mattress and clean bedroom, held by the pair as an Eden on Earth. The reward that, should they have thought to ask, they would request for all their years of service.An age spent in dirt and agony, heads against helmets and tents rattling with the sound of a terrible ocean, had led to this moment.They savoured it as best they could.The flag outside the window waved their neighbours good morning, oblivious to the radiant joy of that insignificant room. Work was to be done.Work in neither the marine nor civilian sense of the word. More that of the child, the recuperation of a bad deed that had made a considerable mess. Not one iota of the room could be out of place, Eddie was distinctly aware.Or rather, not one iota of the second mattress could remain in place.The two men stared down at their accomplice-turned-traitor, having removed the two belts and tossed them to opposite sides of the room. (Overkill to any sane person.) A glance back at Andrew’s bed revealed a much more natural sight, the dips and creases of at least one body, the crumpled sheets. Their gazes took to each other for insight and found their company lacking.“Jump on it?” Ack Ack suggested.They exchanged boyish smiles, shoulders raising in uncertainty of the plan.“Think steppin’ should do fine.” Eddie countered.It was quite the scene, neither of them having extended their dress beyond last night’s underwear. Hands on each other’s upper arms were needed to support themselves as they tread across the mattress’ surface together, bare feet making creaks and creases in the bedding. Soft snorts of laughter were covered by firmly pressed lips, frowns of concentration failing to cut through the absurdity.Complete in their chore, the men were left gripping each other tightly, faces held close as they straightened their backs.The clock on the bedside table had hands pointed in strange directions. It was past eight o’clock.For the first time, one marine had slept past daybreak.Andy was the first to touch their foreheads together, grin fallen to a tentative smile. He followed with a tender kiss to Eddie’s lips, leaving him to sigh as his company pulled away.“Let me get you a towel.” Ack Ack said. They showered separately, more’s the pity. It was the one thing the old marine excuse had covered, the concept of communal showering long established as a soldier’s habitual right.Eddie once again found himself under the hot water alone.The steam was doing him in, determined to commit emotional murder. Every instance under such a cascade filled him with the same residual feelings. A sense of peace, relief, and the knowledge that the only operating pipes were ones far, far from the combat line. That his chances of the world crashing down around him were significantly reduced, perhaps enough to resemble those at home in some fatalistic delusion.He could close his eyes here, under the hot water, and see clearly again.See some other droplets of warm water, trailing down Andrew’s cheek. Not from the comfort of a shower, however, but the damp cloth Hillbilly was applying himself. Pressing against a sweat-soaked forehead. Squeezing, like he could yank out the fever laying claim to the other man. It only released more water.It was supposed to be cold. The rising sun had turned his helpful cascade a laughable lukewarm, one of his early failures as one newly commissioned. It made him feel unfit to wear his bars.Eddie was not long an officer then. He felt no more at ease in his captain’s sleeping quarters than he did under direct mortar fire.“It’s just a light fever, Lieutenant.” Andy – exclusively Captain Haldane back then - assured.He still wore the moustache he’d cultivated on Guadalcanal. It was an attractive addition, making him appear older than his fellow officer didn’t know he was. Its hair caught the drips from the cloth comically.Where Ack Ack’s skin brushed Hillbilly’s hand, the heat of fire alighted. A man burning up, sweat soaking his chest worse than any tropical heat could hope to accomplish. He was at least supported by his chair, still issued and intact at this point. (Poor piece of furniture would later be lost to a Japanese grenade, if the shower’s steam recalled correctly.)“We haven’t long been on Gloucester, sir.” Eddie had said, known as First Lieutenant Jones only, “Y’ boys here can’t be losin’ their captain so soon.”He was right. New terrain, unfamiliar territory. A change of command would be disastrous.A change like his unrequested arrival. How he longed for his sergeant chevrons in those first days on the Cape.Andrew had, with the narrowed gaze of someone wanting to hear more, succumbed to whatever charm unknowingly gripped the words. Hillbilly had assumed it to be the fever. He was himself distracted by the beads of sweat trailing a toned, tanned neck, dipping beneath that soaked collar.“What do you suggest?” The captain asked.His arsenal laid out, the pick of the litter handed to the lesser of the two. It had shocked the lieutenant to his very core.For the first time in all his service, an officer had relieved themselves of command and given over to Eddie’s experience. Ten years a marine - a competent marine - and a non-commissioned officer, never had he been trusted without question by his superiors. Not once.And he’d never forgotten it.The taps didn’t squeak where they ended the shower’s cascade, perfectly maintained in this pristine neighbourhood. The steam swirled as damp curls were shaken dry. With thoughts entrenched in his memories, Eddie ran the towel over his skin with little attention.The mop he called hair had begun a valiant offensive down the terrain of his neck. No longer could he claim to be sporting the old country Short Back ‘n Sides without needing to enter confessional. Time made fools of even the simplest things.A heavy huff, blown upwards, was all the man could do to free his vision from the intruding locks.It didn’t hold. He left his fast-appearing stubble as well, not wanting to hold the Haldane’s bathroom hostage a moment longer. It made no difference anyway. It turned out – as he had pieced together from snippets of conversation and the occasional carelessly placed document – that Captain Haldane had done his homework on his new officer transfer all those years ago. Braving the difficulties of wartime communications and arrogant rival companies, Andrew had looked to contact Hillbilly’s former CO.Whatever had been said, in words Eddie was too embarrassed to imagine, must have left an impression on Ack Ack. Left him with enough assurance to take a risk, at the least.That didn’t explain how he’d known to retrieve Hillbilly’s jeans from the car four years after the fact. Or which pocket he’d found the girl’s keys in, as even their owner could not recall. These protocols did not exist on any dossier.And yet, after an embarrassing dash from bathroom to bedroom that resembled a comical dive for cover, Eddie found the bed was adorned with these treasured gifts. T-shirt and jeans, socks, frayed underwear – all presented against the mussed sheets that embarrassed him so deeply. (Though he felt no shame over the deeds they’d enjoyed the evening prior, the knowledge that this was rightfully Mr. and Mrs. Haldane’s lodgings pulled his long-held values of decency into sharp relief.)Eddie intended to ask how his clothes had appeared and express his thanks. He was caught out instead by a passing Andy, fresh towel under one arm, laying a heavy smack to his own towel-wrapped behind. A hard bite of his tongue kept the elated curse and harsh rebuttal deep in his throat.This house had never seen the roughness of war and the behaviour that entailed; he would not be the one to bring it inside.Ack Ack disappeared into the bathroom’s sanctity. Closing the bedroom door, Eddie dressed himself alone.For a moment, he allowed himself to watch the flag flutter over the porch roof, the beautiful Lawrence street beyond the windowpane. Perched against the sill in just his jeans and socks, arms threaded through the holes of his t-shirt. Prepared, not yet committed.He couldn’t recall the last time he had been in a real home like this. Or any home unlike this.Andy had either not found his battered working man’s boots or simply decided to leave the wretched things in the footwell. It mattered little; a blessing remained a blessing. Centuries of dirt and dust that clung to those worn boots should not dirty this family’s floors.Outside shoes were for the outside, just like the mutty guard dogs of his childhood neighbours.A terrible shame, he thought; that gazing out at pristine Massachusetts streets, alight with smiling neighbours and brightened by the sun’s rays, would have him thinking about such dark and broken places. “You didn’t stay up too late, did you?” Mrs. Haldane asked them.She once again provided her gracious lemonade. Eddie thanked her more than needed, three times in fact. (Twice for the drink and once for the compliment on his informal attire. Complete with crooked smile and chest full of pride that only a mother’s kind words could give.)He needed the liquid, delicious or otherwise, to cover his mouth. The sipping sound and occupation of his lips meant he could pause to think. Adapt to a question he had felt the sting of before, in far more pointed incarnations. It had been a while, inconveniently, and his prepared excuses had been left unused.Watching him drink, Andy took up the mantle of answering. Cool as ever, unfazed in these dire times.“We spent a while talking.” He admitted solemnly, “We had so much to catch up on.”Eddie could have believed it, too.An uncertain narrowing of his eyes was inevitable, the realisation of just how convincing Andrew was at his deception leaving an equally familiar and concerned feeling in his throat. He washed it down with another gulp of lemonade.“Well, you mustn’t dally.” Mrs. Haldane said, “There’s so much to see, and you promised me, Andy, you promised-““That I would show our guest around town.” Her son laughed, “Yes, I remember.”His mother pinched his cheek tenderly, moving the skin back and forth as she beamed at her pride and joy. Eddie averted his eyes to the table, no longer adorned with the fine porcelain of last night’s minefield meal. Somehow, he could feel Andy’s glance his way regardless.They washed their glasses in the kitchen sink. Their belt loops didn’t brush this time, a distance kept in the daylight publicity of Andrew’s own home.By noon, with the sky turned a magnificent gold in the sunlight, they were stepping off the porch.Mrs. Haldane waved them farewell. She seemed increasingly disturbed by their departure as they had come closer to exiting, suddenly concerned as Andy kissed her cheek goodbye. Frown lines cut through her aging skin, pulled taught in concealed anguish. She caught her son’s wrist in her frail hands.“You will be careful, won’t you?” She muttered.Eddie pretended not to hear, hand shielding his eyes as he looked out over the street. His car, her blinding reflection, picket fences, and American flags. Beautiful, apple-cheeked perfection. The disingenuous poster child for ‘what you boys are dying for’ incarnate.He also chose to ignore Andy’s clipped response, accompanying a dark frown he couldn’t see.“Goodbye, mama.”The door clicked shut as the blond appeared at Hillbilly’s side. No mention was made of their departure and Ack Ack seemed consumed by his own thoughts on the matter. His guest broke the silence, lowering his hand.“Where to, Captain?” He asked, turning his head so his playful smile could be caught in the light.Andrew managed to beam back a suitably large grin.“Well, there isn’t really ‘so much’ to see.” He laughed, “But I have some ideas.”The warmth of his smile didn’t quite touch his eyes this time. They opted for a walking tour rather than a driving one.It was Eddie’s choice fundamentally. His host was gracious enough not to press for reasoning.It would be too difficult to describe, the sensations the taller man felt pacing the streets of Lawrence. Less related to the historic buildings or town planning, if at all, and most to do with the fact that his captain had been born there. Born and bred, raised in the footfalls he was now sharing with his lover.There was a thrill to it that Hillbilly had never expected, one he couldn’t hope to articulate with his limited vocabulary.Tailored exploration took them along the canal district – the ‘oldest and only noteworthy area’ according to his guide – where they found dark waters and families enjoying the weather. Glass rays reflected on the streams that cut through the town, divided and then repaired by iron bridgeworks. Only the tall mills and working factories shadowed the streets they walked, casual conversation supporting pleasant silences.All while at least half a foot apart. Hands in pockets, for their own benefit if nothing else.Temptation was the downfall of many a man.They stopped in Pemberton Park. Well situated to gaze across the water, it overlooked the many industrial buildings that formed the town’s backbone. Its charm laid in the neatly trimmed grass, the laughter of children, the flattened dirt paths and couples holding hands. Tourists, what few there were, could be seen snapping shots of the vista with their cameras.“It’s quite a grim affair,” Andrew was saying, after Eddie had naively asked after the park’s namesake, “One of the mills collapsed. My grandfather had only just been born.”Where they leant against the railing together, he rested his chin against his folded arms.“A hundred and forty-five dead. Terrible tragedy. They rebuilt the mill - we’ll pass it on our way - and dedicated this park to their memory.”Something about the words ‘terrible tragedy’ and fleetingness with which they were spoken had Eddie nodding in understanding. He knew nothing of milling or its hazards, only what he accepted to be his and his company’s nature regarding death. To cut the dramatics of mournfulness and give the dead their due respect, to not pretend to care about people they’d never known for the sake of appearing compassionate men.Hillbilly had learned to live for many years as anything but a ‘compassionate man’. Which he blamed upon his upbringing, in both the literal and military sense, where compassionate men were wasted.“Sad story.” He said. He kicked himself silently for the truly stupid addition.Andy huffed out a laugh, propping his elbow on the railing. His head rested in the cup of his hand as he turned to his company.“Quite.” He admitted, “And not one to share with the kids at a family picnic.”Eddie followed his drifting gaze. White and red checked fabric covered the grass where a young man and his love lounged beneath one of the trees. An enviable spot indeed, the branches providing the luxury of shade plus bonus entertainment to the waist-high boy who now swung from them. He couldn’t have been more than five years old.They wondered if the young man might have come home to that short-sporting, shaky-running child, having left behind only a baby.Andy wondered deeper still, lost to his thoughts as Eddie looked his way. His eyes were soft, clouded with his back to the sun. What little focus they had followed the child as he was brought down to the blanket by his father. The young man kissed his wife, bouncing the boy on his knee.Such a picture-perfect moment of familial joy. It shouldn’t make a man look so dejected.Hillbilly hadn’t the tools to tackle his own confusion at Andrew’s expression, let alone the expression itself.“Sad story.” Ack Ack repeated. He wasn’t talking about the mill.His smile returned as he caught Eddie’s eye. It was genuine again.“Let’s get some ice cream.” When claiming the best ice cream in the country, Andrew was no liar. (There was no need to remind him that Eddie had no point of reference beyond mess hall garbage. It would simply be rude. His taste buds were uncultured, not broken.)“You’ve got to try this pecan.” Andy insisted.The spoon was waved his way. Hillbilly dodged the uncoordinated attack, ducking under the ensuing blind jabs.In all brutal honesty, he’d panicked when presented with the three-tiered display of flavours Lawrence had to offer. Silently, of course, under years of layered coldness, built up to overshadow any emotion his expression could possibly reveal. It must have seemed mighty silly, a brick-built man glaring apathetically down at the twenty-one separate tubs. The teenager brandishing the scoop had looked ready to piss himself.Ack Ack had swept in to save the day. ‘Pecan please,’ he’d said, a comforting hand on his company’s shoulder, ‘two scoops.’It wasn’t that Eddie had never had ice cream before. He’d just never bought ice cream before. It was one of the staple treats the Marine Corps provided, like bones to dogs. If it was present, it would be provided.He’d taken a single scoop of strawberry, since Andy insisted on paying. It had tasted divine.“You’ve gotta try it.” That very man was still attempting to force a spoonful into his mouth.“Why don’t you eat it?” Eddie bit back.The spoon, loaded with a fresh scoop of pecan butter ice cream, came souring towards his face. Dodged again by the man with hours of hand-to-hand combat training. And actual experience, though he never let that come to mind. Not while conscious.To kill a man with your bare hands took something no training could prepare for.They weren’t there anymore though. They were here, in sunlit streets, the sky turned a flushed pink. And the only use for such techniques was dancing around a scoop of ice cream, delivered by a determined ally. They were laughing, chasing each other as Andy kept up his spoon-fuelled assault. Spinning around each other in the empty afternoon, undisturbed by prying eyes or rifle scopes. If a dollop fell to the sidewalk, neither cared. Life and death were far away concepts.Their laughter left them breathless. “Do you think you’ll stay long?” Andy asked him.His skin was pink in the setting sun. Red and orange had replaced bright, bright blue. Their eyes reflected the sky. The street of his parents’ house stretched on endlessly before them. It would appear sooner than they expected, they knew for certain.Eddie was reluctant to answer. It showed.“I dunno.” He said after pause for thought. He never wanted to lie to his captain.A similar moment of contemplation took Ack Ack in its stride, his hands buried in his pockets as he walked. Their steps were slow and casual, matched against each other. It felt blissful and wrong in the same instance.“I hope you stay a while.” Andy repeated, as if the rearrangement of the words was exactly what he’d said the first time. They were certainly what he’d meant.Passing under some trees that divided one neighbour’s house from the next, the blond man took the time to check each direction of the street. From where they’d come to where they were heading, satisfied after an overtly casual glance either way.Removing one hand from his pocket, Andy slid a step closer. His fingers delved into the pocket of Eddie’s jeans, finding his own hand there.“Stay a while.” Ack Ack said, third time the charm.He squeezed their fingers together.Even in such public territory and the painful sting of fear it brought, Eddie couldn’t help but smile. They’d untangled their hands long before they ascended the steps of Number 56.The risk was beyond what Hillbilly could bear to stomach. He’d never dare.The stained glass rattled under Andrew’s knuckles. He was relieved swiftly by the door swinging back. Someone had been waiting for them, the dying light revealing the composed features of Mrs. Haldane.“Welcome back, boys.” She chirped.There was something fragile about her voice and the speed at which she’d answered the door. Eddie addressed neither, following the other man inside with a polite ‘m’amm’ to greet his host.That had her smiling more pleasantly.“Oh, you have such good manners, Lieutenant Jones.” She said.She patted his arm gently as he closed the door. Her attention and unwavering gaze kept Hillbilly from moving, even as Andrew sat on the bottom step, unlacing his shoes.“You-” She began, uncertain. She chewed over her question, glancing at the son she hoped was unaware. Her voice was lower than it should be for all parties to hear. “You didn’t have any… problems, did you?”The weight of the word forced a heavy gulp to need swallowing down, removing whatever horror had grown instantly inside Eddie’s throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed visibly, though she paid no mind, staring far too intently into his eyes. Her wrinkled cheeks were hollow with a fear he didn’t understand.He kept his lips sealed, swallowing yet another weighty lump that resurfaced. What she could possibly be referring to escaped his mind completely.Trawling through every conversation and action he had had or taken in this house was unpleasant, but necessary. Hillbilly did so as silently and as rapidly as he could, looking for any misstep, comment, or out of place piece of bedding. Somewhere, he was certain, his simplicity had caused this inescapable downfall.Desperate and without answers, he accepted a crushing defeat. In his surrender, he looked down to Andrew, his saviour in the wake of his weakness.He found the expression of a man he didn’t recognise. Dark eyes carved into a battle-hardened glare, hidden from the light by a deep frown. A look of impenetrable disappointment and disgust, one Eddie had never been subject to or seen in their odyssey across the Pacific Ocean.Personally, Hillbilly knew the expression well; reserved it for one of his own family exclusively. Just not, as in this case, his mother.“Deborah.” Mr. Haldane said, appearing in the kitchen doorway, “Can you come check on the potatoes, please?”The older man cut through the silence with a firm hand, landing a perfect coup de grace on the silence encasing the hallway. That frozen strangeness of the exchange, the one Eddie found himself uncomfortably buried within, shattered in a second.Mrs. Haldane straightened out the creases of her apron. Looking at her now, she was clearly in the middle of cooking.“Yes, dear.” She said with a tight smile.She retreated down the hallway. With an acknowledging nod to Eddie from Lynn, the pair disappeared into the quiet. A hushed conversation could be made out from beyond his range of hearing, but Hillbilly had closer concerns. His eyes followed the pair of leathers that were tossed carelessly onto the shoe rack beside the door.Andy had stood up from the stairs. He said nothing.Dejected and afraid, the taller of the two felt a new bile rise inside his throat. The bile of loathing, hatred for his inability to salvage a situation on his lonesome. Had these months without the Marine Corps softened him so harshly? Was he nothing - not a leader, not a fighter, not an officer - without a structure or combat actively shoving a hand up his ass?Ack Ack looked at him sadly, though not of his own accord. He was forced to - by Eddie’s hard grip on his wrist.“Put y’ shoes on.” It was far from what he’d imagined of the great Andrew Haldane, even with his direct involvement.Two ex-marines, reclining country-style over the hood of his pickup. Backs to the windshield, boots all but hanging off the front. The old girl was warm from the day’s weather, keeping them safe from the encroaching cold of the setting sun. Her scratched paintwork left a good feeling in Eddie’s gut. That, and the tobacco.He’d lit one cigarette, then passed it to his company. The man had accepted with a stricken ‘thank you’ that had Hillbilly’s mind reeling.He’d then lit his own, taking a long drag, and released it to the sky. For the clouds to enjoy, he thought.A display at odds with the white picket fences and American flags over every door. The lace curtains of the Haldane residence darkened to the view, hiding in the shadows to avoid the sight of the only son, the golden child, drowning in cigarette smoke atop a foreigner’s car. It was ill-fitting and it was the most at ease they’d been since their reunion. (Besides being inside each other, Eddie supposed.)This deviant display was his apt solution to their hallway engagement, which he still didn’t really understand.When they’d placed those lieutenant pins upon his uniform for the first time, he’d accepted the spikes into his very skin. Puncture wounds kept fresh by occasional replacements in rank. Just as he’d sewn on his own chevrons, leaving stitch marks in his flesh as he did so.To protect and serve more than just his country. He held the precious lives of his company, weighted in those insignia. Back on friendly soil, he would still never forsake that.So he’d solve this problem however he could. And chain-smoking atop a warm pickup was his best chance of doing so, quickly and temporarily. Andy finished his first smoke fast, tossing it over the hood. He didn’t stub it out without an ash tray or equivalent within reach. Hillbilly smiled at the gracious display and handed him another.“You can put ‘em out on her hood.” He explained, stubbing his own hastily consumed smoke on the nearest patch of chipped blue metal. He replaced it instantaneously. “She can handle it.”Andy gave him a quizzical smile, fond and concerned and confused in equal measure. Eddie knew why. And he wanted the other man to say it.“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak that way about a woman.” Ack Ack said carefully, a laugh bubbling on his tongue between drags“I’m a changed man, Andy.” Hillbilly said. “Haven’t y’ heard? Got m’self a wife n’ three kids back in Virginia.”A short snort escaped Andrew’s lips, his grin still warm for a moment. Then he let doubt consume him and he frowned.“You don’t actually…?”Eddie gave him a withering look. One the Great Captain Haldane had been spared for most of his career, despite their near constant usage by his second. The occasions they had been charged in Ack Ack’s direction were less than the fingers on a single hand. Nevertheless, they had occasionally been used on him, just as in this moment.For when the man uttered something truly stupid that even Eddie’s adoration and good graces could not ignore.“No, Andy.” He uttered bluntly, “I do not have a fuckin’ wife n’ kids back in Virginia.”His latest cigarette finished, he tossed it away like the others.“Or any other state f’ that matter.” He added.The former captain made an effort not to look relieved. He settled back against the windshield. Together, they watched the clouds fade from red to purple, vanishing against the growing darkness.“Your mom-” Hillbilly began.He felt his company shift uncomfortably, tension alighting in the shoulder touching his. The hands Andy had interlocked on his own chest gripped each other painfully. He let Eddie finish.“Does she know ‘bout you? About us?” It was the only possibility.What else could cause ‘problems’ for two white men in their prime, walking around Lawrence, Massachusetts?Andy responded too fast. “No.” He said.It had Hillbilly sending a suspicious glance his way. Though he trusted every God-given word the man spoke, he found this one to be particularly bitter to swallow. He pushed for clarification.“About me?” He asked.It wouldn’t be the first time an intimate acquaintance had thrown him into the line of fire. Metaphorically, of course. And in this case fully forgivable and without malice from either man.“No.” Andrew said again. He frowned in concern, “I’d never tell another man’s secret.”True, he wouldn’t. Even under torture, Eddie imagined Andrew would hold strong in that regard, choosing instead to sacrifice his own hidden truths long before considering those he’d been entrusted with by others.Hillbilly was left with the distinct knowledge that he was missing something. Or was being lied to, intentionally or otherwise, if his original puzzle piece turned out to fit. He didn’t understand and while he had come to accept that state as his lot in life, it never failed to sting.“She seemed pretty adamant that comin’ out w’ me would run you some trouble.” He stated.It was fact and Ack Ack mercifully didn’t try to deny it.Instead, he sat up. One knee rising, supporting himself with his hands splayed out behind him. The sun was just a memory now, the red and white stripes above the Haldane’s home now red and red again as the light fell away. Bloody shades, dark and deep.“She’s paranoid.” was all Andy said.He slid off the hood, sensing the front door was soon to open. Mr. Haldane appeared on the porch, scanning the street for his son and their guest. Eddie watched the pair wave at each other, the pleasant call of dinner being served bringing a fatal blow to the conversation.Paranoid about what, he couldn’t say, but it was linked directly to his presence in this poor family’s lives.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Some things he had left behind to the war.Shrapnel pieces and a sharp-shooter had pulled him away, leaving certain truths to rest forever on the ridges of Peleliu, with his marine career and the last dungarees he ever wore. (He’d left things behind before, along the similar ridges of Appalachia. He’d had things stripped away before too.)One of the things he had regained, after his war had ended, was time.Not the gift of extra minutes on his life – his youthful days were behind him and those chest wounds had surely shaved more than a couple of years from his ticker – but a sense of time passing. Suddenly, there were minutes in an hour, and days in a week again. The sun and a dusty wristwatch were not the end of it anymore; shops would close their doors before evening came calling, chatter would die out on the streets, lamplight would flicker across cityscapes.Eddie had suddenly needed to know, for his own sake, what day it was. To give specifics on the hour, rather than just a grunt and a finger pointed skyward.It had been very strange to come back to and he wasn’t sure it was welcome either. He’d been getting the hang of it throughout his hospital stay and trip back stateside.Perhaps the war had returned, now he’d stepped foot in Lawrence.He wasn’t sure what day it was. Mrs. Haldane was in the kitchen that morning.The morning after what Eddie considered his second real conversation with Andy, following their bedroom confrontation that had descended into tears and excellent sex. A conversation on top of his beautiful pickup, no less, but a real conversation he would count as a blessing regardless of its circumstance.They hadn’t spoken about it, him and Andy. Not after a quiet dinner that night, doomed to pleasantries so benign they could kill a man twitchier than he. He’d stayed silent for most of it, observing with as little intrusion as he could. Unfortunately, his company had been reluctant to speak much either.It had led to early retirement for all concerned.He’d reclined beside a half-sitting Ack Ack, who lent against the headboard. Supported by half of his many pillows, a trait Hillbilly admitted he had never seen in the field. (He supposed he couldn’t have, though it struck him as odd nonetheless. To see a man spend several moments fortifying himself with soft cushions, angling his head exactly even whilst they slept last night. A particular set up appeared to be in mind each time.)“Do you mind if I read?” Andy had asked.His gaze was soft and spoke testament to the exhaustion in his mind. Physically, too, though his company assumed that was merely a reflection of whatever he was wrestling with since their return home.“Not at all.” Eddie replied.That had been a familiar sight, watching the man read. Familiar and yet improved by the gentle setting, with a soft pillow under his own head where he lay on his side. Basking in the warmth and adoring the moments that passed; Ack Ack holding his novel with one hand and letting the other one fall precisely into Hillbilly’s curls. Twirling, expertly, fingers kindly moving through those gifts from the Devil.It was lucky Andy hadn’t looked up from his reading for a while. He might have seen Eddie’s welling tears.Joyful, of course. And bitten back with a heavy gulp and smile to remind himself that this was a reality again. Never had he felt safer than when Ack Ack stroked his hair and engrossed himself in his reading. He could die a happy man like that, even in their former establishment for such acts; the dirty interior of an island tent or worse, the crushed palm trees lining Peleliu’s foxholes.He loved to watch the man read, even if he could never get the hang of the words. Too long and complex, always a blur upon the page when he made any attempt.“Your hair’s getting long.” Was all his captain said.It didn’t need more confirmation than a huff.After the would-be tears had evaporated and Andy had come to what seemed like a conclusion, Eddie’s hand had wondered to the man’s striped underwear. Toyed with the waistband for several moments, which may have in fact been what encouraged the blond to hastily fold the corner of his current page.Skilled fingers had found their way beneath the fabric, just as Hillbilly’s lips had found his love’s. The headboard proved useful leverage, allowing him to continue stroking Andy’s cock beneath his pants whilst they kissed. Supported by that mountain of pillows, fortified by the mattress and bed frame.Their only threat; their gasps of pleasure and the soft laughter muffled by each other’s mouths. Eddie hated remembering such things when he was staring down Ack Ack’s own mother in the narrow hallway. Obviously, her son always went first to soften the sting of shame and the heat against his cheeks. It wasn’t for nothing, God bless Andy’s confidence in such matters, but one of them was a traditionally raised Christian boy from the Hill Country.And meeting eyes with the mother of a man he’d spent a portion of the night riding like a rodeo bull was something only the truly forsaken could find easy.“Morning.” Ack Ack said, already dressed and giving his mother a kiss on the cheek. (As was Eddie, the former at least. He gave a polite nod and a soft ‘Mrs. Haldane’ for the latter.)All was forgiven with the rising of the sun and she greeted them with a wide smile. Yesterday fell away to the pleasant memories alone.Whilst his mother fussed over fixing them some breakfast and her guest hovered nervously, trying harder than necessary to help with any cooking he could, Andy stood back and leant back against one of the kitchen chairs. It squeaked quietly where it hit the table behind him. He was smiling.He looked only a little like the photograph framed on the shelf behind his head, unnoticed by himself.Eddie noticed. Had from the first day, though it only froze him in his tracks at that moment, carton of eggs rendered limp in his hand. With the monochrome capture beside the real thing, their relationship was distant at best. The young man on the shelf wore a different grin, one of a final school year and forced seriousness. The living example beside had a smile that weighed forty times heavier.“Mama,” That living man said, bringing everyone’s attention his way, “Could I borrow your sewing scissors?” Three plates were stacked beside the sink shortly, scrubbed clean by an eager Eddie. His hosts had given up trying to stop him. An extra plate, covered by a piece of white muslin, remained on the kitchen table. It had Lynn Haldane’s share of breakfast, hidden away from any pests.“Pests like you, Andy.” Mrs. Haldane had scolded, “Don’t you eat your father’s fixings just because he likes to enjoy his lie ins.”She had then handed Andy her sewing scissors. Sizeable things but not unwieldly. Their use had been a mystery until the two men had moved to the garden, sitting with their signature lemonade. The metal item had been placed upon the painted table with a noticeable clunk.They had discussed this already, when they’d awoken. When Ack Ack had caught his company pulling on those curls of his in the bedroom mirror, expression sad in the way a man showed when he thought no one was looking.“I know a barber.” Andy had suggested first, “We could go today.”Hillbilly’s eyes had dropped in a new expression, one that reeked of disgust as much as sadness.“That’s not somethin’ I ever really-” He ignored his reflection as he looked for the cover-up words, knowing he’d see an innocently curious man behind him in the mirror, “Use.”Barbers were for people with money to spare. (The wads and wads of bills hidden in his pockets, boots, and car were impressive perhaps - if you’d never had much money. Or couldn’t count. Or knew they were a lifetime’s wages.)Ack Ack was gracious. He translated the words and still managed to smile, not a lick of pity in his eyes. He didn’t even offer to pay for the trip, avoiding accidently crushing Eddie’s soul underfoot in the process.“So, what do you do,” He had asked, “When your hair gets too long?”The explanation led them here.Andy’s smile was boyish once they were alone. It matched the kitchen photograph much better. He clearly had some laughable idea that his lover would simply start hacking at his hair right then and there.Eddie had to laugh at the immaturity on display.“Wipe that shit of y’f ace,” He said, reaching across the table, “Been trimmin’ these curls longer than you been usin’ a real toilet.”The scissors were cruelly dragged away from his hand.“We’re the same age.” Ack Ack reminded him.“Mnn.” Hillbilly hummed his disagreement with a frown, waggling a finger as he sat back in his chair, “No, I think I was born in April.”The grin remained on Andy’s face even as he let out a disbelieving huff. He pulled the scissors into his lap as he did so, seeming content to withhold them from the man. A bargaining chip, perhaps, in this debate heated only by the sun.“Forgive m’ classical education, now,” Eddie continued, scratching at his chin, “But I do believe April comes before August.”They had had similar discussions before, most definitely. Playful one and all. This time, however, the specific wording of the taller man’s jabs struck a chord with his captain. The mention of Andy’s exact birth month had gone unmentioned before, on Eddie’s part, or simply unnoticed.Either way, Ack Ack’s smile changed. He looked much as Hillbilly had, lying in bed beside him, about ready to let loose tears of joy.“You remembered.” Andy said, adoration in every syllable. He didn’t trust himself to get much else out with confidence.“Could never forget.” Eddie said. He didn’t try to elaborate on why, on how much the date meant to him. He knew he never could.Instead, they held hands across the table, fingers intertwined on the warm metal. A moment shared in loving silence.Only when Hillbilly tore his eyes from Ack Ack’s could he straighten up with a cough, nodding to the scissors kept in the hand that remained in his company’s lap.“You gonna hand me them scissors?” He asked, “Lemme get t’ work?”With their hands still clasped, Andy regained that cheeky smile. Its edges were soft with a shyness he rarely showed.“I was hoping I could.” He said, clarifying quickly after; “Get to work, that is.”Of all the great battlefield sacrifices he had asked the man he loved to make, it would baffle anyone as to why this one would give him pause for doubt. A touch of fear that he might have overstepped their long, enduring relationship.Eddie laughed. He looked out at the garden around him, the sun flashing on the well-kept flowers. The shake of his head was fondness, not rejection.“Y’ better not cut me.” Scissors made a surprisingly comforting sound when a man was allowed to listen to them.A soft, simple snipping, old but hardworking blades sliding against one another. Slicing rhythmically away at long overdue curls, dropping ringlet after ringlet to the bathroom floor. Eddie’s hair had grown lighter in the warmth of America’s sun, no longer dark beneath a war’s worth of dirt and grime.If Andy noticed, he made no note of it.He’d offered to do the deed out in the garden, in the beautiful daylight of an early summer. On the patio, they could sweep it away into the flower bed.His company had shuffled in his chair, looked away in that embarrassment Andrew knew well. Had come to know, time and time again, in the privacy of their discussions. Whilst never less than sure before his marines on the line, once Hillbilly opened up more than a friendly fraction, he could reveal a great deal of self-consciousness.It was a well-known fact for Ack Ack. And it twisted his gut each and every time.He didn’t ask whether it was concern for the discovery of their relationship’s true nature. Or the pity bred from seeing a wounded veteran unfit to cut his own hair. Or the humiliation of knowing that not everybody could afford a barber. He never asked the specifics when it came to Eddie, why he declined the warmth of a summer’s day for fear of its public location.The tight space of the bathroom, stuffy as it was, would do fine too.“You really had a marine’s haircut, all these years?” Andy asked.His frown was curious and nothing more. Eddie could see so in the mirror.“Since I signed up.” He admitted with a grin. It wasn’t embarrassed. Wasn’t proud, either.They were blessed by a country that venerated and idolised its returning troops, for better or worse. It was only those with similar experience that would spit on the idea, mock such a decade of dedication, for better or worse.“Ten years...” Ack Ack repeated, “The haircut, I mean.”He wasn’t talking about the haircut, but Hillbilly obliged the smokescreen regardless.“I’d say before that too.” He chuckled.‘Long hair was for women’, his daddy reminded him. With a large finger held inches from his son’s face, a warning veiled behind fatherly advice. ‘Women, and faggots’.“You ever think about growing it?” Andy asked. Neither party were sure if he was teasing.Eddie hummed for a moment. He actually thought about it, distracted only by the continued snip, snip, snip of the scissor blades.“Reckon not.” He finally decided with a huff. He angled his head slightly, turning his gaze of his captain-turned-barber. “Don’t think length’s gonna help these Devil curls.”Trimming work ceased, allowing Ack Ack to lean down. Hands on his lover’s shoulders, blade pointed upwards in his fingers so he could speak closer to the man’s ear. Eddie tilted his neck towards the sweet sound.“You really believe the Devil had any part in making you, Eddie?” Andy asked.Hillbilly wouldn’t dare ask if the question was rhetorical. He kept his mouth shut on the matter, merely turning to speak directly into his company’s cheek. Lips brushing the man’s skin, eyes focused on the barely visible stubble beginning to take that handsome jawline.The muscles of Andy’s face curved into a smile. He was watching from the reflection in the mirror.“They’re the Devil t’ me, Andy.” Was all Eddie said, voice quieter than he’d hoped.He finally turned back to face the mirror, realigning his head for work to continue. Andy obliged him, straightening back up.Those musical scissors went about their business once more. After completion, Andy filled the sink with warm water.He held a hand to Eddie’s nape, rubbed circles there with his thumb.Willingly, Hillbilly bent over the water. Close enough that the slightest pressure would force his face beneath that tiny ocean, keep him steady as he drowned amongst the floating battleships of his curls. Instead, he was baptised, Andy’s free hand scooping that pleasurable water over his hair to clean the site of his work.A tidal wave of relief fell down with the tumbling liquid. Streams ran over the fingers against Eddie’s neck, down around his closed eyes. He breathed heavily as he prayed he could ignore the feelings stirring inside him, desperately kept hidden from the man who washed him lovingly in the comfort of his home.The act renewed the faith Hillbilly had held steadfast since those early days on Cape Gloucester. A secret, silent belief that bore no cross and remained unstamped upon his dog tags.That Andrew Haldane was a conduit for something Holy, unbeknownst to himself. And to be in the presence of such a source of light, if only for a mere moment, was a gift beyond any preciousness mankind could conceive. Sat on the porch, cigarette in hand, Eddie felt like a new man.Somewhere between being inspecting his renewed haircut in the mirror and making his way downstairs, he’d found a burden pulled from his shoulders. It felt nothing like returning to his ‘default’ state. As he thought it should, since he rejected the notion that this was an all-new appearance, considering he’d never once deviated from the Short Back ‘n Sides.Except, now he had.His curls were left a little heavier on the top. No razors or clippers had come biting for his locks. The washcloth that had wiped his neck dry was gentle and warm. His t-shirt might be standard issue, but his jeans weren’t.And his barber had looked at his damp reflection with adoration, staring at treasured memory made flesh. The hand that had met his nape brought with it a loving temple against his shoulder. He’d supported Andy’s bodyweight, that smile that weighed a tonne.Smoke filled the air of the porch, drifting just beyond the front steps. He hadn’t stepped out for any curtesy.He wanted people to see what kind of good Andrew could make from him. They laid similarly that night, though without hope of any illicit relations. That crack under the door revealed a bedroom light was still flickering down the hall.“We’ll just have to be quiet.” Andy teased as he leant down, book still in one hand, to press their lips together.It was tender, incredible, made all the better by the fingers twirling those freshly trimmed curls. The sensations brought yearning to Eddie’s heart, gut, and groin. It didn’t change the answer.“No.” He growled, voice thick with lust but unwavering. He’d sooner roll out of bed, naked as a babe, and make a return to sleep in his car.There were certain respects (and risks) one did not poke without good reason.“Suit yourself.” Ack Ack chuckled. He meant it, but folded the corner of his page all the same.Book placed back on the bedside table, they arranged themselves into a comfortable embrace. Supported by their pillow-foxhole, of course.Where many couples of their predicament might find it difficult to hold each other so close, in the comfort of a warm night, and resist the temptation to make love, Andy and Eddie did not. They had come to the easier conclusion that it wasn’t worth it, huddled together against dugouts made of dirt and debris rather than feathers and fabric. Exhaustion had played a major part in this training, though they were proud of the result regardless.If one of them wanted to sleep, for whatever reason, then they would sleep. Together and without argument.Time beside each other was precious, conscious or unconscious. Dawn broke and six o’clock came.Eyes sliding open slowly, Eddie let out a deep, rib crushing sigh. A bad mood followed him from his rapidly vanishing dreams, slipping away quickly so not to meet his wrath. The residual taste of an unpleasant morning remained. He didn’t quite know why yet.The lack of heat at his side helped identify the targets in his emotional haze. Legs swung off the bed, Andy had already sat up. Back turned to the window and American flag beyond, arms raised as he stretched and cracked away last night’s aches.Without a word, Ack Ack stood. His sigh was similarly unpleasant, as if he shared the sensation Eddie felt but failed to identify.“You in some kinda hurry?” He asked from the bed, fingers pressing on his eyes to scrub the dreams away.“Mnn.” Came the noncommitted response, “Gotta get dressed.”“Oh, yeah?” Hillbilly mumbled. He was smiling crookedly, fingers knitted over his chest as he lay back down, watching the flag untangle itself from where the wind had spoiled its morning. “Errands t’ run?”He didn’t need to look to enjoy the strangled laugh that came from halfway into the cupboard. Early rising humour was a game for masterful players only; an expert could walk that line between a rousing ribbing to kick men into gear and pissing off tired marines. The stakes had always been high out there.The lieutenant had got pretty damn perfect at it.“Or maybe you’re just sneakin’ out t’ find a date.” He mused, finally turning his head to reveal his lazy grin, “You agree t’ meet her under the ol’ apple tree at daybreak?”Andy laughed. It was strange to see him holding a clean-pressed shirt, produced from his hastily closed wardrobe. Suspicious, in fact, considering the accusation of infidelity. His fingers smoothed over the sleeves briefly, before the hanger was flipped over his shoulder.Hillbilly’s smile was now confused, no longer casual. Andy looked him dead in the eye, hand on the door.“It’s Sunday.” He said before departing.The man he left behind remained in blissful ignorance for several seconds afterward, staring at the empty room. His smile held out, only fading as realisation came upon him like a brittle ocean mist.He’d lost track of his days again.Reverting to his old habits, allowing the war’s grip to creep silently back under his skin. And now, it was Sunday.Eddie’s expression twisted into a horrified rage. At himself alone, the stupidity he had failed to account for once again. Yet shock took precedent, keeping his heavy breathing scarily regulated as he processed the only possibility laid before him.Sunday. The Lord’s Day.The silence of the room rang in his ears, the sound of the shower down the hall the only grace keeping him from bolting. Eddie glanced out the window, viewing the bad morning sun with distaste.“Fuck.” He hauled his dress uniform back out the car.It had been stowed away, folded neatly into tight rectangles, placed upon the passenger seat for safe keeping. All in a vain hope that it would remain there for the foreseeable future, cast back to the cold uselessness from whence it came.It wasn’t like he had a suit on hand.The shirt, for all his routine folding, had become creased. No doubt from the first night they’d spent together, garments lost to the floor without much remorse. Scooped back up sadly in the morning to be exchanged for the more casual; jeans and a standard issue t-shirt.That dream was over; the uniform was back on.Andy watched him from the doorway. (They’d both showered. Had to smell good for the Lord’s house.)A sight to behold, Eddie facing himself in the dresser mirror. Fingers clawing at a tie he had strung himself up with enough times to know the noose by heart. Yet, there he stood, struggling valiantly on against the fabric menace. Hands slipping all over the place, making him look like a fool.A man who couldn’t tie a tie wasn’t a man at all. He couldn’t remember who, if anyone, had told him that that – it was a fact none the less. And if he weren’t a man, which he was currently proving himself not to be, then he definitely wasn’t a marine.Frustration and self-loathing creased his brow intensely as he cussed under his breath. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t pull the knot into place properly. His shaking fingers had nothing to do with it and could no more be blamed than the sweat beading at his hairline. He would not acknowledge either factor even existed.Performing well under pressure was supposed to be one of his strong suits. The birthmark of an officer, commissioned or not.He didn’t understand it, why his palms were clammy and the room felt burning hot long before noon.Without a word, Andy’s hands folded themselves over his own. Slowing the fumbling movements of his machinations, soothing the ache in his joints and heart alike. The man’s clean white shirt felt cool on his back, through the rough fabric of his own. Chest against his spine, belts brushing. Legs, too, along with the front of Ack Ack’s slacks against his buttocks.If the stress hadn’t been seeking to destroy him, he might have found it enticing.It was only calming instead, and he wanted that more.Those skilled hands guided his fingers, taking control as they slowly and precisely traced the motions of a knot. The result was a perfect tie, adjusted carefully so as not to apply pressure to the fragile skin of Eddie’s neck. They both knew what hands on those delicate bones felt like, pressing down to kill.“How’s it look?” Andy asked. He could see the reflection over the man’s shoulder, he knew himself.He wanted Hillbilly’s verdict.“Perfect.” Was the judgement given. A single word weighed down by all the internal writhing going on behind closed eyes.Eddie’s hand gripped Andy’s regardless. Squeezing them against his chest before tipping his chin to kiss both sets of knuckles. The callouses there were fewer than his own, but present without a doubt.Pistol grips did that to a marine. Mr. Haldane insisted they didn’t waste gas in taking two cars. And since Eddie’s was a pickup with two conjoined seats in the cab that might just squeeze two grown men and some kind of child inside, they would be taking the family car.It might have been the only time Hillbilly desperately wished he’d bought some fancy estate. The ride was pleasant for Andy.He enjoyed the schoolboy atmosphere of riding side-by-side with a good friend in the back of his parent’s four-seater. His smile as he watched the scenery pass made no secret of the feeling.He didn’t mention Eddie’s fixed stare at his lap, palms rubbing on the wool of his thighs. It wouldn’t help to draw attention to it. Small victories included convincing the agitated man to leave his jacket and cap at the house. The sun was shining and it was customary to remove headwear; there would be no need for either.Lawrence’s streets passed them by without issue. Mrs. Haldane had the radio on quietly, humming along to the occasional tune or tutting at the announcements.Andy’s finger met the glass of the window. He glanced briefly across the backseats, finding Hillbilly’s anxious gaze following where he was pointing.“That’s the blanket factory.” Ack Ack said.He had a pride in his voice that had rung equally strong across the islands of the Pacific, one Eddie personally couldn’t muster. Hearing it made him smile, though, however shakily. As if he too could share in the pleasure of a loving family and honest roots.Andy had turned his eyes back to the window. Looking upwards, letting the large brick building roll by with a grin on his face.“I suppose some time I’ll be taking over the place.” He mused, “I wonder what wars I’ll be making blankets for.”“Be careful what you wish for, son.” Mr. Haldane chuckled from the driver’s seat.The factory disappeared into the rear-view mirror. Glancing out his own window, Eddie couldn’t figure which prophecy the older man was warning about. The Haldane’s church was nice. That was about all the compliment Eddie could muster for the place.Facts, that was all his mind presented himself with, as they pulled up on the nearest available curb. (Parking lot was full.)It was a rectangular, modern building. The walls were flat plaster. An attempted had been made to uphold older traditions; the arched windows, large wooden doors, and the like. There was no steeple, just a large wooden cross stuck strangely to the roof. It stood out poorly.On second thought, it wasn’t really ‘nice’ at all. Perhaps exclusively in the Edward Jones sense of the word; foreign, uncomfortable, and aggressively not to his tastes.Andy’s parents led the way, blissfully ignorant of the grand service they were performing in doing so. Allowing their son to place a comforting hand on the small of Hillbilly’s back, if only for a moment or two, pulling them back into step together.Eddie hadn’t registered he was trailing behind.The surreal situation didn’t allow him to address his dragging footsteps or his dry throat. How the boxy building seemed to tower upwards to the Heavens, looming back down as it cast a deep, dark shadow over its new, unfamiliar arrival.Squinting in the sun, Hillbilly found himself glaring unintentionally back at the intimidating structure. His tight lips and scowl didn’t give a warm first impression.The churches of his youth were always made of wood. Commonly whitewashed, or had been once upon a time. Always with a steeple, or similar attempt.He supposed this was as good a way as any to forget those churches. Though he admitted he had been doing a fine job of such by simply not entering churches at all.Such a fact had certainly made itself clear; Andy’s concern was written plain as day across his features. His parents had mercifully passed the threshold already, without incident or pause for thought, leaving the two men standing one step down from the open doorway.“How long’s it been?” The blond asked, without need to specify any further.“Includin’ them short ‘n sweet services on Pavuvu?” Hillbilly offered with a smirk.He glanced up at that ugly cross, hoping perhaps it would be kind enough to topple downward, give another go at what the Japanese had tried. He didn’t think it appropriate to bring his captain in on the joke, so he spoke instead; “Year and a half, maybe.”Ack Ack considered this for a second, over the ringing of the bells. Had they not been so weak, they might have been artillery fire.“And,” He asked tentatively, “What if you don’t include those services?”The words ‘in a real church’ went unused.No longer able to hide under overgrown curls, Eddie’s small, guilty smile was on full display. This embarrassment wasn’t one Andy could ever hope to cure, since the man had brought it on himself. Andrew Haldane could do many things but impart God’s forgiveness had yet to be one of them.“How long was I in for?” Hillbilly asked quietly, refusing to give confessional himself.Ack Ack let out a soft snort. As he levered himself onto the final entrance step, he answered over his shoulder. “Over ten years.” He said it with the upmost weariness.With an uncomfortable hum of agreement, Eddie nodded stiffly.“Yeah, that about covers it.”He followed Andy inside. No ocean tide of relief washed over his body.The church was only a building, a little too warm in the rising sun and packed with strangers he could never hope to know. The wooden pews were filled with many faces and he was just one of them, sat in the back rows on the outermost edge of the congregation.It was exactly where he belonged. He didn’t resent the position.The pastor couldn’t have been much older than him. He greeted everyone as the returning faces he knew them to be. He made no note of the silent newcomer. Even the most naïve priest could spot a burden so unwieldly it would crush him, one that could not be lifted by inspiring words or forced debate.Somewhere Eddie couldn’t see, a piano began to play. Everyone stood. He thanked his lucky stars the tune of ‘Glory to God’ filled the scene. He knew it well.Of the four of them, Mrs. Haldane and her son held up the songbooks that rested on the pews in front. It would serve the tiniest victory later, if Hillbilly remembered, that Andy was not as familiar with the words as he was.Not that a man should be counting score on such things, brought about not by skill or hard work but forcefully repeated study.In the depths of his gut, Eddie felt a pleasant sensation growing, sowed by the sound of Andy’s voice. He had to look away from the man brushing his left shoulder, trying to shed the sinful enjoyment he felt. His sweaty hands squeezed each other mercilessly to aid the attempt.That mystery piano stopped and they were asked to ‘Please, be seated’.And so one ordeal passed to the next.Eddie was familiar with protestant services. Not this particular mainline, watered down, basic bullshit. But a raisin was technically in the same family as a grape, even if one was significantly stronger than the other, so he’d say he could hazard a good guess at the hurdles to come.He knew they’d read scripture next, then suffer a sermon, then drop five dollars into the collection plate and consider their fare to leave paid.Today would be John, 5. On page 862.Unlike the songbooks, all four of their company would need a copy to read from. Unfortunately, the pew in front only had two copies resting on its shallow shelf. Mr. Haldane went ahead unphased, taking one in hand and holding it in the space between him and his wife. He opened it on a chapter only a few pages from the one desired.Andy took hold of the second battered Bible before Eddie could, sharing a brief but smug glance between them before turning his attention to finding the correct page.He held it between them where they sat, now huddled together like the long-married couple to their left. It gave opportunity for Andy to study the other man’s face, showing no intent to hide it. Hillbilly chose to ignore him.“After this there was a feast of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem-” The pastor began.They were expected to read out loud. The pair started out fairly well, no different than all the other huddled figures muttering along to the scripture.“Now there is at Jerusalem by the sheep market a pool, which is called in the Hebrew tongue Bethesda, having five porches.”Barely three lines in and Eddie found himself struggling, stumbling over the words. He drew in sharp breaths, failing to pull himself back onto the rails as the train of voices steamed on ahead of him.“In these lay a great multitude of impotent folk, of blind, halt, withered, waiting for the moving of the water-”Ack Ack’s own words had grown difficult for unrelated reasons, coming through his gritted teeth. Almost as if he didn’t approve of the narrative being spun. It went unnoticed by his close company. He obviously had no interest in continuing without his partner anyway, gaze moving back up to the face mere inches from his own, a welcome distraction.In the sea of quiet recital, nobody noticed the two men fall silent.Eddie’s eyes were narrowed, skin pinching about his cheeks as he squinted intensely down at the page. His neck appeared craned, straining to draw his nose a little closer, his gaze a fraction further down. To meet the tiny, faded letters amongst the mass of identical, tiny, faded letters. Whilst one hand gripped the book like a vice, the other was using one finger to trace the line the congregation had long since passed by.The knowledge that Andy’s eyes were following his every expression, boring into his temple, only made Hillbilly struggle harder to keep up.Carefully, to disturb no one at all, Ack Ack moved the book away. It broke the tether that forced Eddie to struggle uselessly, leaving him to close his eyes in quiet contempt for himself and the situation.This second ordeal was testing him well. Not that Andy saw it that way, frown curious and concerned across that vast inch between them.“Eddie,” His voice drifted barely above a whisper, reminding Hillbilly of many a secret conversation within foxholes, “Do you need glasses?”Without considering it, the answer came out as a stubborn hiss. “No.”The book was tugged - carefully - back into a more neutral position between them. By Eddie, who leant his head down and continued his squinting.He knew Andy would never understand his reply. That the letters weren’t blurred because of bad eyesight; he was just stupid. Surely illiterate, just as his nickname would attest. He would omit the fact that, in the earliest days of his church attendance, he could read the pages just fine. That wasn’t relevant and he didn’t need glasses.Stubborn to no end, Eddie jumped on the lines he recognised around him. He recited with new vigour, stepping past the conscious knowledge of his grating accent.“Behold, thou art made whole. Sin no more, les’ a worse thin’ come unto thee.”His finger was pressed so hard against the page, he didn’t notice Andy’s solemn quiet.The third ordeal followed shortly after, once the Bibles had been laid to rest and the congregation had returned to communal silence.To Hillbilly’s left, stretching a mile away across the valley of battered books and fancy slacks, sat Mr. and Mrs. Haldane. They nodded along with the pastor’s words as he gave his sermon, their hands clasped together in prayer when requested. When not, they laced their fingers together silently. Respectfully, hidden by the back of the pew in front, laid lovingly atop Lynn’s knee.Eddie only glanced once at this mortal act within the house of immortality. It brought him no joy to wish for things he couldn’t have. Neither the Marines nor the war needed to teach him that; the lesson came free somewhere between birth and his teenage years.Instead, he faced forward. Not at the pastor, standing far over the heads of the congregation. Just forward.If that preacher dared look his way – and he did not – he would find Hillbilly staring tiredly ahead. Nothing within the church reflected in his eyes, what he saw was a thousand yards away. Even the depths of frontline memories couldn’t exhaust him more than the short time he’d so far spent within this church.His head ached, too. A throbbing pain that annoyed him greatly but remained bearable, stemming across his brow and around his cheeks. Distinctly like the sensation one would get from straining the muscles there to squint.The pastor was giving inspiration on the topic of ‘the invalid who Christ cured’ in the scripture they’d read. Funny, Eddie had been paying absolutely no attention to the subject he’d been asked to read aloud.He didn’t know there was anything in there about curing a crippled man.He did remember the mention of sin, however. The joyous sensation produced by Andy’s singing had rotted as quickly as it had sprouted, leaving blackened petals to float in the bile of his stomach.This was indeed the same as the services of his youth. Never once had they left him smiling. The rattle of coins being tossed into the collection plate had been akin to the whistle of a troop train.Louder to some, those who desperately needed to depart in particular. Crumpled notes had been tossed in by all three men in their pew, determined effort being made on Eddie’s part not to shoot up from his seat and dive-roll out the open doors.The pits of his shirt were wet and the back of his collar felt clammier than ever. He blamed the heat of the sun, just as he always had.Mr. and Mrs. Haldane were chatty and in good spirits as they departed. They occupied the front seats once again, talking pleasantly between themselves as the radio hummed softly. They paid no mind to the boys behind them, content to remain unaware of the painful silence gripping one half of the car.Andy stared out the window as he had on the way over. This time, only the ghost of his smile could be found.Eddie watched him for quite some time, saddened by the knowledge he had helped turn the weekly experience into as miserable an affair as he was used to. It sickened him to the point of sniffing back the threat of tears, knowing the burden he had stupidly shared the weight of. He should have known better than to agree to this trip.No tears fell. He was a man and a marine; he wouldn’t embarrass himself before Andy or his parents any further.He turned to the scenery passing by his side of the window. Experiencing the inverse of their journey, it was his side of the car that passed that red brick building Andy had so proudly pointed out. A glance at the blond this time showed none of that pride or any desire to acknowledge the factory at all.Eddie looked instead. Finally able to see the walls of a past he wanted to know every inch of, he could read the white letters that adorned the highest bricks with pristine care.‘HALDANE TEXTILES CO.’ reflected on the glass of the window.It was repeated like a scripture, silently but in his own voice, ringing in his head as the building disappeared from view a second time. ‘Sin no more, les’ a worse thin’ come unto thee’ followed without warning, recited within the safety of his mind.Andy might never get the chance to inherit that factory, if he continued to factor his former lieutenant into his future.Eddie couldn’t think of anything worse at that moment.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
God saw fit to punish him. Like that quiet Sunday wasn’t punishment enough for the direct insult of stepping foot in the good Lord’s house.Surely the Big Man upstairs could read his mind, didn’t he know Eddie was sorry? He’d made the wrong choice.He’d thought it would make Andy happy.Instead, it left them distant. Despite what might have been joyful, singing together and sitting close, they had both been left with a bitter aftertaste from the service. It dragged into their afternoon.They ate a casual lunch together in the garden.They talked about odd things. Where the blue pickup came from, how long the drive took to get to Lawrence. In turn, Andy answered how long his parents had been married, where each of them was from and how they’d met.“You back t’ playin’ football?” Hillbilly asked.He remembered that well; Captain Haldane loved his football. His love for it had led his lieutenant to quietly listening to the results on the radio, learning team names he’d never cared for, and never looking at a sports magazine the same again.He was so sure it was a pleasant topic.Yet, just as soon as the conversation had gotten rolling, the breaks were shot. By Eddie’s question, the stupider of the two.Following methodical consideration, Andy said; “I’m not quite up to it.”He cleared the plates away quickly afterward. Eddie was left to sit alone, staring miserably down at the white metal of the table, wondering where he’d steered his words wrong. In his dress shirt and wool trousers, tie pulled loose in the heat and only adding to the dishevelled state capturing his mind, body, and soul. His gaze followed the ornate patterned swirls. He felt sicker than any day before this one.Except Peleliu. That was a different kind of sickness. He lied to Andy that day.He lied to Andy’s parents too, though he felt that was forgivable. They’d never know the difference between his words and the truth, so he felt unburdened by it.Mrs. Haldane nodded understandingly as he tightened his tie, explaining to her that he had to stop by the Corps’ office in Boston. He’d been having such an excellent time, he’d forgotten he had papers to fill out by the end of the week. It wasn’t a long drive; he’d be back by sundown. He offered to wait until morning to return, not wanting to be a bother.She tutted and told him not to dare. Her son would wait for him.Oh, how Eddie wished he wouldn’t.There were no questions as to the details of this ‘Marine Office’, what papers he needed so urgently, or whether any such place would be open on a Sunday. Hillbilly had vague answers for all three; city recruitment building, returning troops final discharge notices which he’d had forwarded here, and ‘Well, there’s a lot a’ boys comin’ home right now, ma’am.’He put all his effort into leaving casually. No sprinting to the car, diving into the safety of the cab. The door didn’t slam behind him.He didn’t look back as he pulled out onto the street, didn’t see Andy standing in the doorway.There was a Marine Recruitment Office in Lawrence. There were no more documents to sign once Hillbilly had stepped off that troop ship. And no respectable business was open on a Sunday, no matter how many wounded vets were making their long way home.They both knew. They knew that each other knew, too.Anything to get out of that house. Eddie didn’t drive to Boston that afternoon. He just drove out of Lawrence, Massachusetts.He perched himself on the hood of his car on the side of the nearest open road and watched the birds. Hating himself more with every passing second as he considered, however briefly, the thought of just putting the pedal to the floor. Speeding away from that house and that town and that blanket factory. Away from family dinners and soft pillow fortifications and lemonade in a neat garden.All the things he never thought he might want. Assumed he didn’t need.Away from Andrew Haldane.The drive would be a long one, a tortuous one, over many a mental and physical mountain. Surely a veteran marine could make it. The West coast must be far enough, almost 3000 miles.It wouldn’t be enough, he knew that. He’d get there and stay a while. A day, a week, a month. Years and years perhaps.Then he’d drive back. All the way to Lawrence, Massachusetts. Praying God would grant him a third chance at finding a living, breathing, loving man – like the second wasn’t enough for his selfish hide.Another car drove by, the speed tussling his freshly trimmed curls. He’d never left a town with a debt to be paid.He watched the sun for quite some time. The rising of the sun had too many negative images attached and too few good mornings. He preferred the setting, how red the world became as that fireball fell away from the world.Eddie got back in his car. The wheel spun in his hands, not as fast as the first time he’d pulled off towards Lawrence.This time was slow. His fear was deeper and darker, now he knew there’d be a living man to greet him. The handbrake creaked as he parked in a different spot. A closer one, directly in front of the house, or near enough. Beside the white picket fence and mailbox marked with the calligraphy ‘Haldane’ almost worn off.Hillbilly glanced out the window and it stopped him in his tracks. He’d been happy to jump right out the car before, the shadows of the evening turning to early night-time, beckoning him into shelter’s comfort. The streetlights would guide him back inside, quietly after hours.Through the window, he found Andy sitting on the porch.Their eyes met, one man still caged within the driver’s seat, one man slouched against his neat little bench. From this distance, neither could make out much about the demeaner of the other.Eddie was grateful for it.His worn walking boots hit the sidewalk; the door creaked as it was shoved shut. He left his tie in the car. Along with the imaginary papers he’d been summoned to receive and a significant portion of his dignity. He approached the porch as he would Bloody Nose Ridge. He expected to receive a bloody nose for his trouble.Andy’s eyes followed him. They spoke of tiredness, above all else, and a patience dying with the daylight. He made no motion to stand.“How was Boston?” He asked with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.A reminder struck Hillbilly, of what became of lying to his captain. Of actions that led one into a pit, entrenching tool in hand, burying it into the mud with every uttered word. Digging your own grave was tiresome, and once you reached six-foot-deep, there wouldn’t be any reconciliation.“Can I sit?” He answered.Andy – his gracious, gracious Andy – tilted his head towards the room on the bench. Eddie didn’t hesitate at the silent order. As soon as he was seated, he spoke.“I’m sorry.” He said, facing the man as best he could.It wasn’t the apology he’d hoped he could give. Making do was apparently a never-relenting chore for those intimate with him. How he wished he’d never had the opportunity to taste the sting of punching above his weight sometimes. Andy should have never given him the time of day.Yet, here the man was. Speaking softly to the emerging moonlight and the humming of the crickets.“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He said, the calm words hurting Eddie more for how sincere they were. He’d have preferred a scolding or, better yet, a fist to the jaw. “I just wish you’d tell me when you need your space.”Throat contracted hard enough he feared if he breathed, he’d whistle, Hillbilly could only swallow thickly in reply. Then swallow again, with the same effect. Nothing made drawing in air easier. His tie was gone but the noose had only gotten tighter.He’d always known his attire couldn’t change him, not really.“I’m sorry.” He tried again. It was small and shaky, failing to hide how desperately he needed Andy to accept his apology. The confidence of the first gave way to the watery floodgates of a second request, from a man on his death bed. Death-seat, in their particular circus of affairs.Andy rested his temple against Eddie’s chest. Silence was fine, so long as they touched.Hillbilly followed his company instinctively, a heavy kiss of gratitude planted to those blond locks before his forehead was laid to rest. Soft hair supported his hanging head, eyes closed to remain unaware of any prying eyes. Public judgement would be greatly undesired.“You don’t have to stay for my sake.” Andy whispered, “If you don’t want to.”The head pressed to Hillbilly’s chest became an entry wound. An entire hand was forced through his skin, puncturing muscles and peeling back the bones of his ribs. They shattered under the force, the dryness in his throat forgotten as he struggled to draw in even the faintest of breaths over the pain upon his chest.He knew Andrew would never purposely be cruel. He clung to that thought alone, even feeling those fingers-turned-blades pierce the skin of his back. Out the other side, a gaping puncture left in its wake. Wounded, stateside. His open chest revealed a heart beating faster, screaming to keep going.Unlike before, he wanted to live. To survive the sting of that accusation, if only to reassure his witness that it wasn’t true.“I wanna stay.” He whispered back.Droplets landed on Andy’s hair. They were so weak they sank into those locks, unnoticed. (Their weeping owner hoped they went unnoticed.)Fumbling hands found his captain’s back, looping an arm around him. He pulled their bodies closer, overcoming the fear of rejection. He needed the warmth, he needed to fill that gaping wound in his chest. The darkness hid the blood Hillbilly saw, pooling around the pair, staining the decking with a circle of red.A rising sun on the Haldane’s doorstep. Eddie had done that.“I want you to stay.” Andy admitted.Someone who didn’t know his pedigree might have heard confessional in his voice. A guilt that Hillbilly would never allow, would kill to silence the slanderous claim. (He would make a lousy priest, he knew.)“But I need to know how long you’ll stay for.” Ack Ack said. Before a reply could be given, he spoke again, halting any questions on the matter, “We can talk about that tomorrow.”Dismissed, he might as well have added.With an ugly sniff to regain some composure, Eddie nodded. Andy could feel it against his head. Another kiss was planted there, apologetic and miserable.They retired to the bedroom in silence, so as not to disturb Mr. and Mrs. Haldane, they told themselves.Hillbilly didn’t notice the wet patch on his dress shirt where Ack Ack’s cheek had been. It would be dry upon inspection in the morning. There was only ever one location to Eddie’s bad dreams.One single scenario, playing out like clockwork whenever he went to sleep under the assumption he would be alright. When he was exhausted and couldn’t conceive of a day growing any worse before the dawn.Should a passer-by be questioned, they would correctly assume the location was from the war. Their vagueness would be testimony to their own past, not his. They might then incorrectly claim a battle, a combat scenario, a violent darkness that threw him out of unconsciousness in a sweat and vicious struggle.If they’d been as smart as Burgie, they might’ve said it was that boy Eddie brained with a shovel.All would be wrong. Hillbilly found himself on a boat.Sometimes, he’d be on a beach first. A little introduction to the misery, not that he’d recognise it as such. Sure enough, however, that painted metal would appear above him. He’d hear the ocean, crashing waves, water preparing for a hurricane. Always distant planes, gunfire banging on seafaring walls.He’d know then what was happening.He used to try to escape. Sit up, get up, rise from where he lay. On a stretcher, of course, every time without fail. Either he wouldn’t be able to or there’d be straps across his chest that would vanish later down the line. It didn’t matter; a deadweight was a deadweight.He didn’t try to escape anymore.A cloth was scrubbing the table. It squeaked and slapped and filled with a liquid he didn’t want to acknowledge. His voice was hoarse as he cried out, no sound meeting the scene. The wiping continued, until all the blood was gone from the ship’s table.His stretcher thudded against the surface, metal screeched against metal. It hurt, sending shockwaves through his back, into his bones. They splintered. He was cast down, the ceiling further away than ever, thrown with his stretcher and his deadweight and his skull slamming against a bloody workspace.Silent, he still opened his mouth. Tried to ask one of the faceless navy corpsmen if he had a sidearm on him. If he’d do his brothers in the Marines a favour and put a fat slug into his fucking forehead.He couldn’t speak, though. He couldn’t in the reality this came from and he couldn’t in his own mind’s reconstruction. Could gurgle and cough, spill blood up over his chin, but never speak.Everybody else had more than enough to say. Amongst the spinning metal rafters, he could hear faceless bodies, masses of flesh in unrecognisable uniforms, shouting about the battle.One that wasn’t unfolding here, but on the shore.“Gunshot wound to the chest.” Was always repeated, along with the quieter “Trauma to the lower right side.”There was a man in white scrubs standing over him. He had instruments of torture in his hand. They were shoved into Eddie’s chest.He screamed. The sound was delayed and sounded like it came from the shoreline. The shoreline, where it belonged.He couldn’t lift his arms. He couldn’t grab and pull at those steel implements, tug them out of himself. His stupidity failed him only here, in this unreal world, and he couldn’t even play the fool and shove away the doctor attempting to save his life.He couldn’t take it. The pain, the trauma, the gunshot wound to the chest. He was hurting and this man was hurting him.But he laid still. He shuddered and coughed and dirtied the table that had just been wiped clean for his arrival.Why did he do that? Nice boys weren’t supposed to spit on the family dinner they were invited to.He saw that too for a moment, in the blink of an eye. A family dinner in a house decades away. His daddy’s hand grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face into the plate for his insult, bringing him back onto the boat.The implements had multiplied. Looking down, terrified, he could see five – no, ten – surgical tools stabbed into his chest. They stood as tall gravestones, shining crosses that marked every mistake he’d made to meet his fate. They stood in a filthy pit upon his body, a cavity big enough to show his ribs, white bone against shuddering muscle, slick with a red so vivid it had his vision spinning.The doctor’s scrubs remained pristine white. Through the tears bubbling up and running down his cheeks, neck straining to have him witness his undoing, Eddie turned to the man.“Why ain’t you savin’ me?” He asked. His lips didn’t move, but he heard his voice.In answer, another surgical instrument was shoved deep, deep in his chest. Slowly. Straight into his heart, Hillbilly was sure. The metal table rang out as his skull slammed against it. Teeth bared, fists clenched, scream rattling only his jaw as he let it rip through his body.‘Be a man’, echoed from beyond the hull. It beat in time with the waves, the gunfire, the airplanes. ‘Be a man.’“He’s gone.” The doctor said.In the madness of this reality, he was talking about Eddie. And his patient couldn’t deny it, head limp against the stretcher and his chest heaving as he sucked in air that tasted like ash.“Get him below.” The doctor said.The ship shuddered and creaked as the white scrubs disappeared. The screams of other patients had gotten louder, more demanding. Help was needed elsewhere.The surgical bayonets remained, pinning down a man still breathing. Desperately trying to lift his head, to shout out, to tell someone – anyone – that he was still alive. Still kicking, not dead. He wasn’t dead yet.He couldn’t speak and he couldn’t raise his head for long. His arms were free but they shook, trembled with the effort of lifting enough to touch his chest. His fingers scraped at the blood still pumping from his heart, thumping in time with the tide and the shouts and the banging of the footsteps on the stairs.They were going to take him below. They were doing to take him where he couldn’t come back.His hands were smeared in a rich crimson. Tissue and flesh fell between his fingers where he tried desperately to scoop it back into place, knocking the surgery tools as he did so. Every jostle made his back arch, an electric shock that had him jumping from his stretcher. More teeth rattling screams echoed from Hillbilly’s corner of the pounding ship, melting into sobs of anguish as he begged someone to notice him writhing.The footsteps got closer every second. The boots on deck felt like they were stomping directly on his head.He didn’t want to die here. Like he didn’t want to die on that ridge. Or on that aifield, or in that landing craft, or on that beach. Not in any jungle or under any rising sun.He wanted to live. It was a hefty desire to hold for a man declared dead, but he had to try.So he screamed again. Choked back his ugly, pitiful sobs and opened his mouth. His lungs inflated even with the instruments puncturing them, spraying crimson flecks across his miserable throat. Flesh grated over slick metal, blood bubbling up and over that scrubbed worktable. He always knew how to make a mess of himself, of everything he touched.He wasn’t looking down anymore, he couldn’t bear to see what was hurting him. The claws of the dark were reaching over, ready to grab his stretcher and pull him below. Beneath the waves and the gunfire and those screeching airplanes.He opened his mouth to scream for help one last time and Andy’s hands were on his face.Palms against his cheeks, thumbs beside his parted lips. The man’s face hovered in the dark, cold moonlight washing his frightened features. Those wide blue eyes weathered the storm of the ocean, replacing it with silence; he blocked out the painted metal of the ship’s ceiling with his very body.He sheltered the trembling boy beneath him, mouth still agape as he panted for breath. Lying on his back, just as he had been before, Eddie’s chest shuddered as let out whimpering gasps. Repeated, over and over again, as his shallow draws for air failed to sooth any sense into his situation.His back rested against damp, sticky bedsheets. His skull, no longer beaten by stomps of pain, pressed against the feathers of a pillow. And his own wide eyes found Andy staring down at him, both hands still hot against his cheeks where they held firm.Hillbilly couldn’t speak.Without the urgency of a moment prior, his panicked gaze could dart briefly to his surroundings. To his chest, which felt no pressure, no searing pain, which was free of any surgical tools, or gore, or soaked marine uniform. To lace curtains on his right, with glimpses of the red and white stripes of his homeland’s flag beyond, shedding crisp summer moonlight into the room.And finally, to the plaster ceiling and Andy’s face, holding steadfast above him from where he was hunched over his lover. Strong thighs pressed against sweaty, trembling ones where he sat astride him. All his weight was put upon his own knees, Ack Ack having the good sense to let the mattress take the dip of his weight rather than put any pressure on the fragile body beneath him.They stared at each other, the quiet broken by shuddering gasps and nothing more. Eddie didn’t speak until he was certain he could hear crickets chirping.“Andy?” He croaked out, produced in a hoarse whisper.His stubble grazed Andy’s fingers where his jaw moved. No blood was brought up with the words. One of those gentle hands left his face, returning instead to stroke his sweat-soaked curls, and the man above him spoke.“I’m here, Eddie.” Ack Ack said.Hillbilly blinked, confirming this was real. The room didn’t disappear, the only change being the release of tears from the corner of his eyes. They ran over his skin towards his ears, afraid to be part of the rapidly solidifying scene.“I’m sorry.” Was all Eddie could think to rattle from his chest.Andy’s expression crumpled. Crushed like paper, wrinkled up and squeezed painfully tight. He’d have been brought to his knees, were he not already there. Eddie’s name left his lips like a mantra, their foreheads suddenly pressed together.They sat, just like that. Skulls pressed against one another, vibrating as Hillbilly let the sobs consume him. The blubbering tears he often fought back with a vengeance, his arms remaining against the sheets. Fingers knotted there, clinging to the fabric and the mattress as if they’d float away on his nightmares.He held the bed and Andy held him.The dawn hadn’t yet broken. “What did you dream of?” Andy asked in the morning.Eddie was sure the man could fathom it. The violent circus they had endured, many a shared awful moment. Guadalcanal was perhaps their only differing experience and even then, they would have some similarity. Dense jungle closing in and the flashing faces of gored marines. A smell of damp penetrating so deep it got beneath your skin.Hillbilly looked to his captain and merely shook his head.He wouldn’t say. It wasn’t a shared experience, it was his and his alone. He had never been protective over personal belongings; his burdens were the exception.Ack Ack’s eyes were filled with sadness. It reminded Eddie horrifically of the porch scene from last night. Hopefully this was a misery directed at the nightmare’s occurrence, not the lack of shared information.“Let’s get you out of this house for a bit.” Andy mused, already sliding out of bed, “It can only do you good.” That morning’s shower was cold by choice.Eddie placed both hands on the tiled wall and leaned forward. Let chilled water pour over his curls until they laid flat against his skin for a change, shoulders tense and back arched against the chill. His knuckles were white and his eyes squeezed shut.Someone should tell him this self-punishment was meaningless and undeserved, even more so since he wouldn’t acknowledge his motivations. Good for the muscles, he’d say. Something about basic, something about the heat of the tropics. Another white lie or twelve.He turned off the cold water. Hot water made better for his reminiscing. A risk he couldn’t afford today, less he be pulled back into pleasant memories too long he couldn’t return. Icey chills didn’t cut the same deal.Andy had already showered, opting to go first. He wanted to let his mother know his latest plan; for him and Eddie to drive out somewhere. To Boston, maybe, enjoy a comfortable drive and catch a baseball game. Show a foreigner what Massachusetts could offer, Lawrence notwithstanding.Hillbilly hoped he wasn’t being scapegoated as the mastermind behind the idea, or even the instigator. He’d hate for his hosts to think he didn’t like their hometown.With the buttons of his jeans sealed and another plain t-shirt pulled over his head, Eddie started his trip downstairs. He could hear the distant rumble of voices, beyond the bedrooms and into the kitchen. One was familiarly Andy’s, the other he had come to know as Mrs. Haldane’s. Bare-footed, Hillbilly made no indication of his approach on the descending stairs nor the floorboards of the hallway.Without warning of his encroaching figure, the conversation went ahead without the grace of an audience.“You can’t be serious.” Andy was saying.Whatever had offended him was unclear, the harshness of his tone being what had Eddie stopping down the hall. Sliding to one side casually, back brushing the wall, pretending for nobody’s benefit that he wasn’t eavesdropping. A crane of his neck let him peer just a fraction into the kitchen, a view he found unhelpful.He couldn’t see anyone. And they couldn’t see him.“Do you think I would joke about something like this?” The response, from Mrs. Haldane, was equally frustrated in its motions. The slight hiss on the end of the words made Hillbilly think she was trying her best not to attract his attention.It would’ve worked, had he still been upstairs.“I think you’re being ridiculous about it.” Came the hushed reply.Ah, so Andy also wanted to keep this conversation from travelling. It made Eddie consider revealing himself. The consideration lost the campaign against his curiosity.“Your condition is no joke, Andy.” Mrs. Haldane said.If he hadn’t seen the way she gazed adoringly at her only son, prouder of him than any fine sculpture, Hillbilly would have said there was venom in her syllables.“I’m not some kind of invalid.” Andy spat. There was the distinct sound of chair legs against tiles, like he’d stood up suddenly, “I’m not some sick child.”By this point, Eddie had pressed his entire back against the wall. Hiding without remorse, afraid of the rising voices and shaking rafters. His own mouth was tightly shut, lips pressed together painfully. What he was holding back, he wasn’t sure. But something might come out and when it did, he felt it couldn’t make the situation better.Or maybe nothing would come out. And that was worse; he had nothing to say. He wasn’t sure who to agree with. He remained ignorant, stupidly uneducated on the inner workings of this household. Yet the distinct feeling remained; he’d started all this.“You’re wounded-” Andy’s mother tried.She was right. Wounded in Action. Probably had the papers to prove it.“I’m not in a wheelchair!” Her son shot back, “I can still walk on my own two feet, can’t I?”He was right. They’d held boys missing legs, knowing they’d never learn to drive. Never make the football team, never take a girl dancing.“Until you fall over again!” Mrs. Haldane cried.Eddie’s chest lurched. He couldn’t rightly say why.If the argument continued, he didn’t hear the next act. He was too consumed by her words, caught up in the unravelling of his former ignorance. That typewriter slide, pinging as the page ended, rung louder than any artillery fire. The little blurry letters struggled to be read, now barely six inches from his eyes.‘Until you fall over again’, they said. The ink for ‘again’ was damp and it smeared.What she meant, Hillbilly didn’t dare speculate. Forced himself not to because he didn’t want to, no matter how obvious the answer was. If he didn’t look at it, acknowledge it, digest its bitter taste, then it couldn’t plant itself in his head. The puzzle pieces were all there, bar the final confirming few.He could identify the picture that the jigsaw made. He pretended he needed those last few pieces.He was still pretending when Andy stepped into the hallway. His surprise was written across his features; he looked at Eddie with wide eyes. Big, guilty eyes and a mouth held tightly shut.Hillbilly looked back at him slowly, equally ashamed. For a real reason, this time, having been eavesdropping on what shouldn’t have ever been his to hear.He should have never stepped foot in this house. He’d put that shameful look on Andy’s face. Andy took him to the garden. He shut the door behind them.(When he passed the kitchen, Eddie was certain he could hear the muffled sound of a woman crying. Sniffles and quiet tears, nothing to disturb the perfect white picket fences of their neighbours. The sound vanished as they stepped outside, a blur of a person using their distraction to disappear upstairs.)They sat at the white metal table. There was no lemonade this time.“I take it you heard… all of it?” Andy dared ask.He wouldn’t look his company in the eye. It was a rare occurrence, perhaps never having graced this earth before.“Heard enough.” Eddie replied.Exactly what enough was, he didn’t know. He was still waiting for the confirmation of what they all already knew.In another rarity, Ack Ack was silent. No longer handing out conversation leads, driving the stubborn bull of this particular subject by the horns. No, instead he sat back in his chair, fingers playing idly with the cigarette in his hands. He didn’t place it between his teeth nor reach for his lighter.There would be no saviour role played by Andrew Haldane in today’s production.“What’re you not tellin’ me, Andy?” Eddie asked. It came out pointed and he didn’t mean it to. Wanted it to, but was sure he couldn’t manage it.Well, he’d managed it.Andy blinked, his gaze turned skyward for a moment.“I didn’t think to talk about it.” He replaced the word ‘want’ with ease. “Since you’re…”Eddie’s eyes narrowed. The sharp sting of a familiar blade slid into his gut. One inch deeper for every time he’d been on the end of such a phrase.What exactly was he, this time? Thick, maybe? Poor? Some hick whose daddy was probably his granddaddy too? Or just indicative silence and a hand gesture, maybe the words ‘Well, they call you Hillbilly, don’t they?’“What?” He laughed. It tasted of ocean salt, threatened to turn sour in his throat. “The man y’ had sex with f’ three years straight?”Though it wasn’t meant to sound romantic, it came out worse than blunt. Andy looked at him with a frown. Like he’d just proclaimed them both faggots who needed to repent and handed him a genuine Bible. It sounded like disgust.“Exclusively.” Ack Ack said flatly, “The man I had sex with exclusively for three years straight.”They were staring at each other. There were no smiles, no casual crooked grins to ease the tension in the ground beneath. The sun had disappeared behind a cloud and the warmth in the air evaporated along with it.“Yeah,” Hillbilly said, “Well, we ain’t in those years no more.”Andy didn’t seem to draw breath, no doubt shocked by the curtain-closing proclamation. It wasn’t the signal for the end he expected and it showed, his frown fluctuating. His hurt was fresh across his handsome features, as if he could really feel the pain in his mind. His eyes drifted down to his knees where they rested on the dark fabric of his slacks.Eddie watched. Watched and felt his cheek twitch, equally floored by his own absentminded proposal.He hadn’t thought; he’d spoke. And instead of the usual stupidity, that nasty man on the mental stage had spoken. The ugly puppet who looked exactly the same as him but wasn’t, couldn’t be – filled with hatred and left without compassion, even for the ray of beautiful sunlight that sat barely four feet away.That Eddie had spoken. He opened his mouth to explain, justify and excuse, apologise for the hurtful words he hadn’t meant.He shut his mouth soon after. It was a lie to say there was more to it, that another part of him had spoken.There was only one Edward Jones. And that man had nastiness rotting his insides, an anger that he’d just let loose.When he’d entered this house, Eddie had thrown a match to gasoline he couldn’t see in the blazing sun. Now he was pouring gas on the flames, still telling himself he thought it was water. It wasn’t and he knew that. He knew that.Andy said nothing. His distant stare remained fixed on his slacks. The pressure on Eddie’s chest returned, and with it, his wish to perish under its weight.“We’re home now, Andy.” He explained, “Y’ got a future and a family t’ take care of you. You got a good life and a fair deal.”Hillbilly blinked. He felt that newly familiar wetness in his own eyes. Still, Ack Ack said nothing.“How long we gonna pretend that we can still be together?” Eddie asked.Again, nothing. Not a word of contempt or a pained plea. Andy’s eyes were dull, fixed upon his knee. On his slacks and the dark material.“Fuck’s sake, Andy,” Eddie cried, bitterness and anger and regret biting at his heels, “Just fuckin’ answer me!”Andy didn’t look away from his slacks. His eyelid twitched. Just the faintest flutter, the tiniest lick of movement. The cigarette slipped from his fingers.Eddie watched it fall. His frown evaporated, his chest filling with realisation as he drew breath.He should give his commission back. Whatever commendable ability he’d shown on Guadalcanal, whatever strategic ingenuity or lightning precision, he certainly didn’t have it now. Call him Private Jones because he was thicker than pig shit.Luckily, he’d always be a big man. Physically tall and strong – hill country strong. It made it easier to dive forward, catch Andy as his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell out of his chair.Pretty metal furniture hit the patio stones. The neighbours probably heard the clatter.They definitely heard Eddie scream for Mrs. Haldane, clutching a convulsing Andy in his arms and wishing he was anywhere else in the world.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Andy was laid on the couch by the front window, head supported by a cushion. The sun warmed his face in the dying light. He had stopped twitching now.Eddie remained at the door. He had retreated there like the coward he was, finished with his duty; helping Lynn carry his unconscious son to another room.Mrs. Haldane’s hand was slowly stroking his hair. Her husband looked on with a distant gaze. When he turned, he was met by his guest’s desperate eyes. Hurting deeply, though not for himself, and shaken to the core. The older man must have recognised it all.He took a final glance at his son before committing himself elsewhere.“Why don’t we go sit down, son.”He addressed Eddie and Eddie alone. They made their way to the kitchen, departing the scene with a stiffness unfelt before now.They sat at the small table. They were facing each other, though Hillbilly wished they weren’t. He couldn’t look into his company’s eyes, yet he couldn’t bear to shut his own. His stare bored into the wooden surface instead, tenser than his locked jaw and twitching foot. He hid his trembling hand in a tight grip against his lap.“My son has spoken about you.” Lynn began, “You sustained a terrible injury on that island.”Somehow, it was a question. Elaboration was mandatory, their distant acquaintance relationship crushed under the weight of their situation. If there were to be an interrogation, or near enough, Eddie would be expected to fold like a deck of cards. Respect was a strange thing.“Yes.” His accent threatened to consume the word into a pathetic mumble. He tried his best to enunciate. “I was hit by a grenade and… shot.”It would never be right to say, outside the battlefield. Never could the sound fit within a civilian home.Mr. Haldane carefully removed his spectacles. The glass was rubbed slowly against his shirt cuff. If the answer satisfied, he gave no indication.“Andrew’s own injury was committed similarly. He received a rifle bullet to his head. It has…” His pause was uncharacteristic, left a fearful taste in the air, “Permanently damaged him.”Every word hung around the pair. Tiny verbal individuals, strung up by the neck. Hanging, swinging by the noose. Eddie’s nails bit into his palms, his eyes aching under the strain of his gaze, still locked down upon the table.“His seizures come and go… But they’re frequent enough.” The words rattled from Lynn’s mouth with level-headed explanation, reciting lines he had clearly endured many times before. Perhaps they were from the diagnosing doctor himself, parroted painfully now by the patient’s doting father, “He has medications that keep them manageable. However, there is no permanent solution.”There was one permanent solution, Eddie’s mind supplied. The terrible implication must have come from some gruff marine years ago, yet the voice in his head who presented the idea sounded more like his daddy’s.“He…” Another pause from Lynn. They could both hear the squeak of the noose’s rope as it pulled ever tighter on the conversation, “Will never fully recover.”Hillbilly recalled his own words the night he’d arrived, stabbing him with sadistic pleasure in his knotted gut. ‘Startin’ t’ wonder if you think I’m some kinda invalid’, he’d said. How funny he’d thought it, not being allowed to do the washing up due to his host’s graciousness. How funny, how hilarious that he might have thought so.Such a terrible thing to say to his captain, suffering silently by the hand of a man who claimed to love him.Eddie no longer dared think that. To love was to know a person, and his ignorance grew daily. It staggered him still how low his intelligence truly must be, brought out in a parade of humiliation as he tarnished these good people with the fallout.It was the end of the conversation. Lynn’s spectacles slid back over the bridge of his nose.Hillbilly did not meet his eyes. Painfully, he nodded.“I understand, sir.” He asked if there was anything he could do, like a fool.He got the answer they all wanted regardless. A request to visit the local drugstore, Andy’s fall may have bruised him somewhere. There would be a cream for that.Anything to separate an unconscious man’s parents from their unwanted guest.Eddie left with unflinching speed. His foot pressed down on the car pedal without remorse. The speed began to climb. He was forced to calm down by the danger of it, the other cars that slammed their horns to let him know his reckless driving was not palatable.The local store sold bruise cream. Two kinds, in fact.He didn’t know the difference. He bought both and left in a hurry.Hillbilly seemed to finally pull a shaking breath into his lungs only then, when he slammed the driver side door shut. Left to sit, stew, with two tubes of medicine as a passenger. His chest shuddered as he forced it up and down. The street was quiet where he’d pulled up for his errand.Cool glass hit his temple as he let his head fall to one side, resting on the window. Eyes closed slowly, at first, resting. Then they grew tighter, squeezing out a guttural sob. The shake of his shoulders rattled the seat cushioning his pitiable display. The tears that fell were fat and nasty. They left blotches on his jeans.He sat alone for as long as it took for those ugly sobs to cease. He cried for quite some time. He returned to the Haldane household eventually. After he’d found a bathroom to splash freezing water on his face and let loose a prayer that it did what he hoped. He had to be sure the flush from his weeping was gone.Lynn opened the door. Ushered him inside this beautiful cage, like a prized bird who’d escaped to terrorize the neighbourhood. Andy was sitting at the dining room table. Awake, more’s the pity.There was an ache in his features. Heavy around his eyes, ageing him, pulling him down as if he desperately needed to sleep. He looked to Eddie with those heavy eyes and had the audacity to smile. Hillbilly thought he might just put a fist to his captain’s jaw for it.They were left alone, though it wasn’t a development either of them could find any pleasure in this time.They weren’t teenagers hiding from a disapproving father. They were men, and men kept six inches from each other at all times, disapproving father notwithstanding.The pathetic scene fit poorly with the ornate wood table and white lace tablecloth. There was a glass of water, half empty, sat just in front of Andy. Calloused fingers tapped lightly on its surface. His expression had become pleading, but he didn’t vocalise his request. Eddie could imagine it.‘Sit down’, of course. ‘We need to talk’.Neither of them spoke for far too long. And just as the silence began to drag, to itch at their skin and bring yells up their throats and threaten tears to their eyes, Hillbilly turned to leave.This wasn’t a game he was willing to play.“I gotta go.” He said.There was no need to lie this time. The crushing possibility he might not come back need remain unsaid.It pulled Andy from his exhaustion with a frown, the anger and fight drawing blood back into his cheeks.“Eddie-” He moved to stand, leaning heavily on the table. It clearly wasn’t as easy to follow his lieutenant as it used to be. “Don’t leave it like this-!”To Ack Ack’s surprise, Hillbilly had already stopped in his tracks. To his frustration, it clearly wasn’t because of what he said. Those cold blue eyes were alight with concern as they flashed over the straining muscles in his arm. To the slight shake in his knees, the hand hidden behind his back, trying desperately not to show how he needed his chair for extra support.Eddie was afraid he’d follow, that Andy would drag himself into another world of hurt just to do so.It killed the captain then and there, without the need for physical ailments. His lover’s expression of fear was enough. It was everything he’d tried desperately to avoid and more.The solution came in the form of Hillbilly’s hand digging deep into the pocket of his jeans. A soft swish and a heavy clunk; a set of truck keys slid across the table. The metal knocked against Andy’s knuckles as he glanced down. By the time he looked back up, Eddie had disappeared through the doorway.The front door swung back and then slammed shut with an echoing thud. The shockwave forced Ack Ack back into his chair, slumped and defeated by the weight of his own body. He felt dizzy. He wasn’t sure if that was the aftermath of the seizure or not.Beyond the windowpane, Hillbilly’s silhouette stomped across the front yard. He turned left and vanished down the street. Not once did he turn to look back, even for a second.Andy’s eyes drifted to the ceiling, to whatever Heaven might lie above. He sniffed and hoped he might be able to keep himself together. ‘Thank You for Visiting LAWRENCE, MASSACHUSETTS!’ the sign said.A flouncy, curved font accompanied the loaded statement, winding faded red letters over the chipped cream background. Its coy voice and subtle mockery sent a heat through Eddie’s veins he’d long since thought behind him. A petty anger, vicious and vile.He’d accepted it, after his terrible behaviour in the garden; there were no good and bad parts of him. Just one, rotten, stinking core, built up and torn down by a wasted adulthood.The bottle in his hand smashed against that mocking sign. The metal wobbled, trembling before his wrath. Glass sprayed the dirt by the side of the open road, exploding in a pathetic impression of a mortar round. It twinkled and vanished, just as the apparent maniac loaded up his next shot.Pressing the next bottle to his lips like he needed it to breathe, Hillbilly gulped down the warm beer without complaint. It was past his third or his fourth and he had no plans to stop or slow down. Either of those options would be the last choice he ever made.Glass flashed in the dying sun. The Lawrence sign shook under a second assault.He’d bought a new batch of the cheap dishwater, two six-packs of bottles to numb himself with the Good Lord’s water. Then he’d carried it here, challenging himself not to take a single sip lest he end up doing this to some poor family’s white picket fence.Eddie didn’t care. Either or, he hated both equally. Both deserved to be shown exactly how he felt about them.The next bottle went down hard and fast, easier to swallow with his throat already plied by the warmth in his blood. He flung the empty glass too hard, watching it catch the top of the sign and go cartwheeling into the distance. He let out a yell in response. An enraged howl that had his hands slapping against his knees to keep from keeling over himself.Private Jones was back again. Back and bitter; dumber and dumber and dumber than before.This, he told himself, was why he had tossed Andy his car keys. Because he wasn’t drunk but he was headed that way, with a spring in his step and a song in his heart. What a fucking joke he’d become.It wasn’t, he told himself, because otherwise he might drive past that fucking road sign. Past it and past the state border and on, on, onwards. Far away, over the rolling hills and crashing seas and shell-ridden beaches. All the way to Japan. Anywhere that would take him, of course.There was dust across the bottom of his jeans, dirtying his boots with a fresh coat of hard-working filth. He’d stripped down to one of his old vests, suddenly hot and bothered by the setting sun. Maybe the beer played a part in that, who was he to wonder. He’d established he wasn’t even qualified to buy bruise cream at a drugstore.He wasn’t qualified for any of this, he’d realised. Wasn’t qualified to help Andy, wasn’t qualified to be in Lawrence, wasn’t qualified to be an officer, wasn’t qualified to join the Marines in the first place. That was his first mistake and it had been his only option.He realised, slamming another bottle at the sign, that he wasn’t any better than he’d been then. A kid without options, told to make something of himself. Which was a lie, too, he remembered. It wasn’t to ‘make something of himself’. It was to make himself useful.Ah, that was it. Eddie smiled, head thrown back as a bitter laugh rattled his chest. His eyes slipped shut and those old, buried words washed over him once more.‘Make yourself fuckin’ useful’, his daddy had said. All vitriol and hatred, spitting as he threw his own bottle at his son’s head. ‘Maybe that way, you can at least die for y’ fuckin’ country.’He wished he had. One thing they finally agreed on, after all these years.The thought resonated, reflected in the darkening sky and angelic light that hit his back. Eddie turned, stumbling slightly as he squinted into the growing brightness. A beam that extended to illuminate him, sweaty and dirty at the roadside, half empty bottle hanging from his fingers and Lawrence sign smiling blissfully behind.It must have been quite a sorry state to match such a dark, terrible thought. The combination summoned an angel from on high to set him straight. Maybe it could come beat the shit out of him, punch some bullshit out and push some sense back in.Eddie grinned at the thought, hand raised to shield his eyes before the headlights switched themselves off, familiar engine purring to a stop. He knew the hum of his old girl. A blue driver-side door swung back, revealing a concerned figure heading his way. The hand beside Hillbilly’s temple became a mock salute, his smile now soft and embarrassed.“Skipper.” He greeted quietly. He lowered his hand, exchanging it for the one holding the beer.He took another heavy swig. God, he hoped it choked him.To his credit, Andy didn’t seem angry. And his disappointment was veiled behind concern, masterfully concealed as he glanced between the remaining packet of beer and the lieutenant avoiding his eyes.“Oh, Eddie…” He breathed.Hillbilly detected the whiff of responsibility in those muttered syllables. As if this was Ack Ack’s fault somehow, by proxy or by rank, who knew. With a new heat biting his heels, Hillbilly scoffed, louder than intended but without a pause for regret.Spinning on his heel, Eddie laid another bottle into the Lawrence sign.It landed right in the centre, the perfect aim of a qualified marksman. Andy watched the glass shine and settle. His company didn’t turn back around.“I can’t, Andy.” The words weren’t slurred, though the alcohol-fuelled honesty was clear. Hillbilly pushed on regardless, finding it easier if he didn’t face the man in question, “I can’t do it. You didn’t tell me you were hurtin’ like that.”His sniff was loud and ugly, failing to stop the mucus that dribbled over his lip. Fat tears had already salted the well-trodden routes across his cheeks, relighting the trails they had come to love this past week.“I ain’t y’ wife!” He cried, the tickle of laughter on the words wet and pained, “And I ain’t never gonna be. I can’t take care a’ you like you need, I can’t-!”He turned back around suddenly. Hoping he would catch a glimpse of anger to feed his tirade, finding an equally tearful man instead. It didn’t kill what he wanted to say, if only because he didn’t know what he wanted to say. The list was endless and difficult and complicated.He didn’t want to bore Andy with it.With his insecurities and regrets, his missing hopes and unrecognised dreams. With the beginning, middle, and end of his shortcomings, forced on him early and only getting heavier each day. Of the war he’d fought before the real one, of hardship he didn’t acknowledge as hard because that would make him weak for complaining, stupid for not asking for help, pitiful for having to endure.Bending down, Eddie scooped up another beer. The cap came off between his teeth, spat back down to the dirt. It joined the others by the roadside.“I can’t give you what you need.” Hillbilly whispered. It was a plea, begging to be believed, “I don’t think I ever could.”With a chest drawn tight, he watched Andy blink, droplets splattering his nice pressed shirt, crumpled from his short stay on the couch today.“You can’t?” The lines of the man’s face were drawn deep, creasing marble as those handsome features lashed out in hurt and anger, “You can’t?!”Eddie’s eyelids fell and rose heavily, taking a moment to catch up with the rage erupting from his lover. Bubbling and boiling and suddenly bursting in a way that sent a shock through his bones. A shock, for certain, but an electric one. A feeling coursing through him of excitement and fear, elation and guilt, all in equal burning quantities.“I can’t play football!” Andy cried.That wasn’t what Hillbilly expected either, blinking harder to try and focus his gaze. Every word had Andy stepping closer, jerking forward as he jabbed a finger deep into his own chest. Stabbing deep, too close to his heart for Eddie’s comfort. His drunken hands reached out sloppily, trying to prevent Ack Ack from poking himself as shushing noises fell from his lips. It might puncture, it might hurt him.“I can’t go out alone! I never know when I might seize up again!” Andy continued, slapping Hillbilly’s fumbling fingers away painfully, “I wake up every morning wondering what kind of embarrassment I’ll be today!”Those hands grabbed Eddie’s vest now, dragging him closer. Resistance was a lost cause, the lieutenant’s boots sliding in the dust as he stumbled forward, their foreheads almost colliding in the heat of it all.“If you can’t handle it, that’s your call.” Andy spat, biting out each syllable as tears splashed their chests, “But I think you can handle it, Edward Jones, and you’re just looking for a reason to run away from me!”It was Hillbilly’s turn to get a grip, beer bottle falling to the ground without a thought. Instead, the fingers of both his hands grabbed hold of Ack Ack’s shoulders, digging nails into the shirt fabric, hard enough to tear.“I never wanna be anywhere but by your side, Andy!” Eddie sobbed, voice loud enough to yell, broken enough to crack, “But I can’t give you any kinda life that y’ deserve! There’s nothin’ for you with me!”“There’s nothing for me without you!” Andy yelled back. The sunset had been red the day Captain Haldane laid into him for the first time.The first and, to his recollection, the last time. It had been his fault entirely, no dispute was present there. He’d waved the right to a defence; he was guilty as sin. Everybody made mistakes. Except officers, they couldn’t afford them.And Eddie was an officer now. A First Lieutenant, stuck on the miserable landmass known as Cape Gloucester, starting to forget what dry clothes felt like.The sun wasn’t red, not really. That would be a Jap myth, fit only for the flags his marines were so fond of stealing. No, the sun was orange and comforting, falling down behind Appalachian mountains or chasing a speeding pickup truck. (Eddie was going to own one, someday. After Guadalcanal, he’d stopped wishing and started promising. An officer’s salary couldn’t hurt the cause.)But the canopy above made a convincing argument that the sun was in fact a deep, bloody red. Dropping rapidly and casting intimidating shadows on his captain’s tent, dark against the torrential rain.He pulled back the dripping canvas slowly. There was truly no way to politely knock out here.“Sir.” Eddie said, his head bowed a little more than comfortable, “Y’ wanted t’ see me?”The usual curve of Captain Haldane’s moustache when he smiled was presently absent.“Come in, Lieutenant.” He said, “Close the flap.”The canvas fell behind Hillbilly with a wet slapping sound. His uniform was dripping and his cap scraped the ceiling. The rain hadn’t stopped for the war, it wouldn’t stop for this.Ack Ack sat at his foldout desk, covered in a mess of papers that could never be called organised. His cot had a puddle appearing where a leak in the roof was dripping down. The man hadn’t noticed, occupied only by his work. One glance at the scribbling had Eddie’s heart sinking.Those were supposed to be his reports. The originals had been left outside a waterproof container, however, and were now rotting in some other leaky tent. Several people had noticed, the captain included.Hillbilly swallowed thickly. He stood at attention and budged not an inch.“Glad t’ see y’ fever’s better, sir.” He noted.He meant it, but it still felt hollow. He had always been one for taking his thrashings quietly. This one man truly brought out a pile of exceptions in him. Why could he not keep his fucking mouth shut?Genuine or not, the gesture pissed Ack Ack off royally.“Jones, you cannot be leaving this kind of information lying around!” He cried, slamming the back of his hand on the desk, “The water damage is the least of it!”He looked up then, meeting his lieutenant’s fixed stare at the backwall with a fierce scowl. It didn’t suit, and the captain stood, placing himself directly in Eddie’s line of sight.The taller man swallowed for a second time. Partly because of the reprimand, mostly because of how close those handsome features were to his own.“With radios on the fritz everywhere, we’ve got men dying to run these papers up and down the line!” Haldane continued, “I can’t have officers looking like they don’t care.”His tone softened by the final word, rage falling away to closed eyes and a steadying draw of breath. Yet he remained in position, their noses an inch apart. Sweat was beading on Hillbilly’s brow. He didn’t dare speak.He waited for more. Some kind of insult to his character to drive the point home.A warm hand patted his shoulder instead. It gave Eddie a start, twitching like he’d been hit. Glancing down with a shock and awe he hoped his concentrated scowl hid. (His wide eyes gave it away.)He’d never felt a touch so tender.“You’re everything a man could want on the line, Lieutenant.” That moustache had curled up a little, an apologetic smile appearing on Ack Ack’s face, “You’ve just got to…”Familiar territory returned as Hillbilly straightened up, prepping himself for the regular ribbing. Any number of complaints could be inserted. Cut the Hillbilly shit, learn to read, stop sucking cock behind the mess. Not so much that last one, if he’d stuck to his secretive methods.“Focus on your admin.” The captain chuckled.The confusion must have been clear as day across Eddie’s face. A sense of discontent at the overall bizarre experience, though he should have known it wouldn’t be a regular thrashing if Andrew Haldane was at the reigns. He’d been called to the man’s tent, for starters. Most officers just loved the opportunity to chew out the hillbilly-officer where every marine could see.Not this man. His very own captain, a gentleman to the last.The fuzziness Eddie felt in his chest was not what he’d expected to feel at that moment. He couldn’t take his eyes off those beautiful features, the lamplight flickering as the red sun died beyond their canvas fortress.“Yes’ir.” He said, with a nod, “I’m sorry, sir.”Andrew Haldane made no attempt to move away. Their locked gases held, hovering there for a long moment. Hillbilly thought he might have seen the man’s eyes drop briefly, looking him over. He pretended he saw distaste, a judgement of his soaked uniform.He definitely could never have seen interest.The lieutenant shivered. Once with embarrassed arousal, then twice more with cold.“Let me get you a change of dungarees.” The captain muttered.His words brought some warmth back to the room, a power rarely granted to mortal men. It didn’t stop him rooting around in the empty munitions box he was using to store his dry clothes. Pulling out a fresh and crumpled uniform, Ack Ack approached his company once more, holding out his gift.“I couldn’t, sir.” Eddie responded on instinct.The captain laughed. It was a magnificent sound to hear. “Don’t make me order you.”He changed at the back of the tent. It was not a sensual display but he’d be a liar if he said he did it as modestly as possible. Webbing hit the floor easy, along with his shirt. The fabric of his vest took more work. He peeled that off with a shake of his head and a spray of water from his curls.He was met with a deadpan stare from his captain. Eddie smiled sheepishly, the tiniest flicker of an expression.That fell away quick once he realised he’d splashed droplets over his superior’s papers.“Fuck sake’s, Jones.” Andrew breathed. They both ignored how fond it sounded.It did nothing to ease Hillbilly’s third thick swallow of the night. (His throat felt like sandpaper around this man.) His speech was littered with apologies and hastily added ‘sir’s as he scrambled to dab the papers dry with his clean uniform.Which, again, wasn’t his usual demeaner. An embarrassed silence usually sufficed.He wanted so desperately – and so obviously – to do right by his captain. It was a bad colour on him.Then again, his superior made no move to stop him. Sitting back in his chair, in fact, one might think he was enjoying the view. A tall, shirtless marine desperately trying to pat away his mistake. Muscles flexing beneath worn tattoos as he strained to reach all the documents. Hillbilly wasn’t too busy to notice Ack Ack bite down on his bottom lip, however subtle it might have been.You had to look for the little things, in his line of romance.When Eddie had finally accepted defeat and Haldane had assured him that a few drops were negligible, the removal of his clothes reinitiated. There was little interest to be found in unlacing his spats and sodden boots, leaving his captain to turn back to writing his reports. The occasional glance each other’s way, eyes meeting as if to challenge; those went unmentioned.Purposely leaving the dry uniform until last, Hillbilly finally unbuttoned his pants.“I meant what I said, Skipper.” He noted, emboldened by the tug of his waistband, falling away to reveal equally soggy standard-issue boxers, “I’m real glad you got over y’ fever.”A hum of acknowledgement punctuated by the sound of a pen being laid against the table announced Haldane’s return to conversation. The unsubtle glances were over, it seemed. Eddie had given him an excuse to twist in his chair, turn to face the now-naked marine.“It’s thanks to your excellent care, Lieutenant.” Ack Ack admitted, “A captain is nothing without his second.”Hillbilly had to laugh, a small and self-conscious sound as he scrunched up the wet fabric of his boxers. Folding had failed to work, leaving his fingers clutching something crumpled and damp. He was too preoccupied with turning a fraction, enough to be half-facing his company.The flickering lamplight cast dark shadows from where it sat atop the table. Shifting highlights illuminated the curves of Eddie’s chest, warping the images of ink on his skin. The curls leading down across his abdomen were damp, releasing droplets to run down over his cock.Only the curve of Andrew’s jaw was defined where he faced away from the lantern, leaving his expression a mystery in the dark. Even so, Hillbilly could appreciate the clench of his teeth, how his Adam’s Apple bobbed with desire.Eddie did eventually get into that new uniform. It was just the following morning. They were kissing as they fell through the passenger door of Eddie’s pickup.Rough and heavy, fingers still buried in whatever clothing they could get a grip on. Nails biting into skin beneath, stinging deep, reminding them how alive they were. How lucky they were.They knocked teeth in their haste to keep their tongues in each other’s mouths, making Andy growl deep in his throat. He pulled back with a jerk, a string of spit still connecting them. It landed on Eddie’s vest, his ass sliding against the worn leather of the cab. Those two strong hands gripping him fell slack, only to shove him down, his spine hitting the seat as hot lips found his neck.Boots went flying a moment later, kicked off to skid away in the dirt. Hillbilly gave up battling with his belt, dragging his pants and underwear down over his hips instead. The gesture scraped his skin, tiny pricks of blood appearing in the wound. It was nothing; he couldn’t feel it.All he felt was Ack Ack’s teeth on his collar, the sucking of the skin there to leave yet another flushed, red bruise. The buttons of the man’s shirt were ripped free by Eddie’s impatient fingers, caring for nothing but opening up the fabric. Letting him run his hands over that toned chest and dusting of fair hair, the garment hanging open as he attacked the buckle of his captain’s belt.It was tugged free just as Andy pushed their mouths back together, fully inside the cab now and atop his lover, forcing Hillbilly’s head back against the seat with his lips. The lieutenant’s eyes closed but he didn’t need to look down anymore. He’d done enough during the brief period he was allowed to undress his company, he need only yank the offending belt free with glee. Shoving his thumbs into Ack Ack’s jeans, one hard tug and they were both finally naked enough to continue.Andy’s cock sprung free, flushed in the dying light, his pants around his knees and having no time to pull them down further. He stubbornly ripped away the jean leg clinging to Eddie’s calf, however, as he pushed the man’s thighs up against his chest, wanting to see every inch of his lower half. Socked feet scraped the roof of the cab as Hillbilly’s hand fumbled with the glove compartment, shoving his fingers into the Vaseline tub residing inside. The lubricant was warm, melted in the setting sun that had disappeared beyond the horizon. There was only shadows and deep red highlights left to guide them.Not that Eddie appreciated the aesthetic, knees against his shoulders and hand grabbing at Andy’s erect cock. His smearing was stopped by Ack Ack slapping his fingers away, his other hand wrapped tightly around Hillbilly’s ankle. Keeping his legs bent up and spread, just where he was wanted. The captain’s weight kept the taller man bent into position, ass angled perfectly for him to admire. He didn’t take the time to for once, busy lining up his slick cock with Eddie’s hole. The head pushed inside and an audible shudder ran over the two men.The moan that escaped Andy’s lips echoed from Hillbilly’s throat, head falling back against the seat as his back arched into the sensation. The rest of Ack Ack’s cock followed suit, sliding easily into Eddie’s ass. They shared heavy pants from the exertion of it all, but the pause didn’t last.Tightening his grip on the ankle resting against his shoulder, Andy thrusted deep inside Eddie’s waiting hole. He lent down and forced their lips together, free hand supporting his own weight by the other man’s head. Hillbilly grabbed instinctively at that blond hair, fingers clenching around those sweaty locks as their tongues met once more. Gruff snorts of air escaped their noses, revealing short, excited grunts of pleasure as they continued to rock against each another.Andy’s thrusts became more desperate with every pull of his hips, slamming his cock into Eddie with short, quick movements. It was too much in the heat of the cab, Hillbilly’s vest sticking to the leather as sweat ran over his brow. When Ack Ack sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, Eddie tumbled over the edge, ripping his mouth from Andy’s with a loud, shaken moan. Warm cum splashed his abdomen, his legs trembling where they were still held up against his shoulders. His moans fell away to gasps for air, tiny strained pleas as he shuddered from the aftermath of his orgasm.Having straightened up as best he could, Andy watched with hooded eyes as his lover clenched and shuddered around him. He managed to fuck the man through his climax before his own eyes shut, squeezed tight as his brow furrowed against the pleasure that threatened to erupt. His hips stalled, jerking a few final times as he clenched his teeth, pressing lips to Eddie’s ankle in an attempt to muffle his moan. It failed, the sound rattling the cab as Andy came hard inside the warmth of the other man, the sensation leaving him breathless and panting hard.Outside, the highway was empty and dark.Andy fell back against the passenger side, barely managing to get a grip on the leather before he fell out the open door. Eddie laid still, legs spread limply and head raised just enough to meet Ack Ack’s stare. His chest rose and fell in heavy strides, the strain of craning his neck only making it worse. It was worth it to see the satisfied smile that graced his captain’s lips, the laughter that rattled his chest.It made Hillbilly’s grin grow wide, splitting across his face as he let out a wet laugh of his own.They sat like that for a while. With one foot on the seat and the other in the footwell on Eddie’s part, Andy could enjoy a perfect view of the mess he’d made. His eyes were drawn to the muscles of the man’s ass and his pink, stretched hole, the thick drops of cum running slowly between his cheeks. If Ack Ack wasn’t exhausted from their fight and subsequent fuck, he was certain the sight could have him ready to go another round.Instead, he was drawn to another sight; Hillbilly’s arm shifting. First to wipe the sweat from its owner’s brow, then to extend across the cab. Eddie’s hand reached out to his company, forearm resting on his own flaccid cock. Andy focused on the upturned palm, and the tired blue eyes that peeked out from beneath damp curls.Reaching out, Ack Ack took hold of Hillbilly’s hand. Their fingers squeezed together tightly, making sure the message was mutually clear.Neither was letting go tonight.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Somehow, the hood was still warm for them. It was a hot night, they supposed.Enough that they could recline, legs stretched out, in just their boxers and shirts. The undrunk beers sat with them, whittled down over the last hour. Windshield at their backs, they gazed up at the bright Massachusetts stars. Constellations only one of them could name shone across the deep blue.“Where are you heading, Eddie?” Andy asked softly.If it wasn’t a loaded question, it certainly sounded like one. It had earned an honest answer so Eddie pondered it for a moment. Warm beer met his lips as he did so, frown not one of concern or anger but simple uncertainty.“Somewhere big.” He replied, “Somewhere y’ gotta drive to. Somewhere nobody knows my name.”Not the longest list, nor the highest standards. Certainly not meant to be philosophical.“Missouri.” He continued, but it was a guess at best, “Somethin’ like that.”Beside him, one arm around his waist, Andy smiled.“Missouri sounds nice.” He said, snuggled against his company’s chest. He continued blissfully, “I’d be alright with that.”Eddie glanced his way, furrowed brow softened to the slightest slope of worry. The words were beautiful, sweeter than honey. They left him aching in ways their love making never could.“I won’t ask you t’ leave.” He whispered. There was nothing more to it.“And I wouldn’t ask you to stay.” Ack Ack countered, still studying the stars.He tilted his head after, the same as his company, their eyes meeting as they faced one another. Little ceremony was taken before their lips pressed together, the fire from earlier dulled to embers with the night. The kiss was careful, tentatively exploring each other’s mouths against the breeze that was setting across the highway. When they broke apart, their eyes opened slowly to drink each other in.It wasn’t enough for Eddie, leaning down to plant a final chaste peck on Andy’s lips before he spoke.“I don’t wanna take you away from home.” Hillbilly chuckled; a laughter filled with nervousness rather than comedy.Ack Ack’s own laugh responded will real humour.“I think I’m far too old to be darkening my parents’ door.” He huffed, grinning at the very idea.That grin had Eddie smiling too. That familiar expression from the Cape, from Melbourne, from a world long since lost to artillery fire. How he loved that smile, that handsome curve of Andy’s lips when the man was genuinely pleased with a situation.“Where do you wanna go, Andy?” Hillbilly asked.That grin never wavered, even as Andy took a heavy swig of his beer. He sighed contently, head thrown back to once again enjoy the sparkling lights across the sky.“Missouri.” Whatever burdens, heartbreaks, heavy farewells, and familial tears were required to consummate their decision – they were Andy’s and Andy’s alone.It was a rare severance of his and Eddie’s communication channels, one that the latter would otherwise fight tooth and nail to prevent. Letting his love shoulder any weight without him trying his upmost to shoulder it first would be a crime against God.This could be the exception. Since Hillbilly was, in the meanest terms, the wrench in the works of this formerly united family machine. He was the force prying them apart, might as well let Andy pretend otherwise for a bit.What white lies he must have spun.Clearly, not the brightest ones, as Mrs. Haldane still shed a tear that following morning. (The sunrise after they’d crept back inside, pick-up quietly falling silent at the curb. Andy shouldn’t have been driving, but he was the best of their only two candidates.)Eddie could hear the water in Mrs. Haldane’s voice faintly, sitting out on the porch, just a windowpane away. Watching the birds chirp and sucking on his fifth cigarette since planting his ass down. He desperately needed them to cope.He'd be chugging on hard liquor if he didn’t think that would cause a scene. (He had his jeans and dress shirt back on. Tucked in and all, presentable for prying neighbours.)This was what happiness was supposed to feel like. He recognised it acutely; the drop before the high. The guilt for pursuing something in life that benefitted you, your lover, and nobody else. That clench that pushed a bayonet deeper into his gut.No, wrong blade. A Ka-bar, with a serrated edge. Something that would catch when it twisted.Emotional profit was sinful. It was cursed; it was for marital bliss where man and woman met. Pursuing it was hedonistic, selfish, crafted the worst of people.Guadalcanal’s blue number-one reappeared beneath his fingers. The skin of his thumb tore, weakened where it had been scrambling over and over to get the flame to catch. He got what he wanted eventually. His latest smoke sizzled into life.For the first time in his entire, wretched life – looking out past the white picket fence and neatly trimmed lawn – Hillbilly shrugged and said ‘Oh well’. Maybe it was the smoke talking, rolling from his nostrils as he ignored the quiet voices within. That gut-wrenching guilt and urge to burst through the door, beg Andy to reconsider his horrible decision, was never going to stop. It would follow him into his grave, perhaps beyond.Eddie would never feel adequate. All he could do was trust when Andy said he was.He realised, slowly and painfully and on that highway where he’d almost run away, that he couldn’t say he trusted his captain if he constantly acted otherwise. It had become insulting. If he kept assuming Andy was lying to him, then his faith was clearly not as concrete as he claimed.Either he jumped when the man said jump, or he should stop pretending he’d follow him into the depths of Hell.He couldn’t just take the hard orders, over brimstone and into gunfire. He had to knuckle down, accept the easy ones too.The front door swung back softly. A seventh cigarette was lit and it wasn’t Hillbilly’s this time.Andy sat down beside him. Close enough for their shoulders to brush like they used to, like always. A youthful smile tugged at Eddie’s lips; he liked the man’s shirt today. It was pale blue; it brought out his eyes. Not that the lieutenant, in his creased and sweaty uniform shirt, would be outwardly flexing his fashion commentary.“We’re going up to Boston for a while.” Andy commented between drags, “You and me.”Eddie grunted in response. He didn’t want to interrupt.“Looking at houses, that kind of thing.” The man was smiling. The eyes he kept on the neighbourhood were nostalgic rather than sad, “You’re helping me move myself out.”“That I am.” Eddie noted. It was sad.He inwardly gut-punched himself. Now was not the time for that kind of guilty bullshit. Andy patted his knee in understanding. It was worth every beat of contact.“Yeah, you’re going to help me pack my things.” He agreed, “Just the basics, what I’ll need in a new home, new job.”He paused and Eddie held his breath.“New life.” Andy said.Hillbilly sent him a look of equal parts dismay and elation. Both were dwarfed by uncertainty.That hand returned to patting his knee. Firmer than before, replacing a gentle hug or loving kiss that they wouldn’t risk in the broad daylight. The touch spoke volumes, coupled with the encouraging gaze that met Eddie’s.There was no uncertainty there. Ack Ack knew what he wanted. Domestic chores in a foreign home, between two secretly entwined men, would be a strange pitch to any individual. The Marine Corps came up trumps, once more; the scene was a regimentally efficient one, contrary to the items strewn across the bed.“Five shirts.” Andy instructed. He was busy himself, folding clothes into a sturdy leather case.“Five shirts.” Eddie repeated, leaning on the open wardrobe door, “Which ones?”Without missing a beat, his partner replied; “Whichever you like best.”The grin that tore up Hillbilly’s face was clamped shut to strangle his excited giggle. The tension in his cheeks only brightened the pink colour there, his glance Andy’s way blessedly unnoticed as the man continued packing. What a pathetically petty power to hand over. Eddie felt like a God.He dutifully carried over five chosen shirts, after much consideration.“Anythin’ else?” He asked, joining his company in pulling the clothes hangers free and folding the garments.(They fold the shirts identically. Old dogs really cannot be taught new tricks.)“Anything else in the top drawer.” Andy muttered, scratching his stubble for a second. Eddie loved him dearly but he was truly terrible at keeping up clean-shaven appearances.They’d already scooped out the socks and underwear from the dresser. (Boxers, one and all.) Not told otherwise, Hillbilly had left the rest. Collecting it now revealed a miscellaneous handful of items. A barely-worn watch, expensive but clearly not as beloved as the standard-issue one on Andy’s wrist. Two handkerchiefs with blue patterned edges, embroidered with the neat letters of A.H. A zippo engraved with the crest of Bowdoin College. (A quick snap of the wheel showed it was empty.) A tie-clip, several pens, and the rest was paper.Eddie unloaded the objects first, leaving them for his partner on the bed. He returned to the drawer to sort through the paper.They were well organised, for the most part. A small leather holder had Andy’s civilian identification tucked inside. An elastic band held his military documentation separately, the top file revealing his discharge notice on account of his ‘cerebral trauma’. It was certainly a polite term for bullet to the head.Hillbilly stacked them on the top of the dresser. He was left with a final scattering of paper, none bearing any official print or stamps. Not usually the prying type, Eddie managed to place two sheets with the rest before he found himself squinting. Eyes narrowed, deeply concentrated as he scanned the third piece of unidentified paper.The handwriting was Andy’s, though the pencil scrawl appeared to be draft work rather than a finished product. The aggressively crossed-out lines, some deep enough to tear, were a testament to this. That, and the blank space at the bottom, unsigned and unsung.The only consistency was the address and title of the intended recipient, Eugene B. Sledge.Every one was addressed to their redheaded mortarman.Eddie was too polite to read the full story. He stacked them in hand and approached the bed. The pile landed firmly in the centre of Andy’s open case, a pointed gesture for explanation.Side by side, Ack Ack could only glance his way briefly. “Thanks.” The man’s hand reached for the papers but hesitated over the unfinished letters, laid in plain view. Top of the pile. His fingers brushed the pencil scrawl.“You lookin’ to set up a reunion party?” Hillbilly asked.The pang of jealousy was not romantic in nature. He had no delusion that Captain Andrew Haldane was looking to woo their most tragic of sexually repressed marines. Should he reveal a platonic pen-pal scenario, however, Eddie might feel the contempt to be justified.“I never did manage to send any of them…” Andy remarked and the jealousy was whisked away in a flurry.“Y’ seem pretty…” Hillbilly searched in vain for the right tone, “Overwhelmed with what t’ say.”He closed his eyes momentarily in dismay at his own vocabulary. It was not the feeling he was attempting to pronounce.A huffed laugh escaped Andy’s nostrils. He understood regardless.“Those last few days,” His fingers pressed against the pencilled words, no longer ghosting across their form. Feeling for the indents where he’d rubbed away sentence after sentence, “On Peleliu, when you...”He trailed off.The rise and fall in Eddie’s throat marked his surprise. This was not a story he assumed he played a role in. Whatever stage had erected itself behind Ack Ack’s melancholy stare, Hillbilly couldn’t clearly see. Someone was acting his part, regardless.“I sent Eugene up that ridge with a stretcher.” Andy muttered. He looked left, straight into the eyes of the man beside him, “I sent him to get you.”Oh. A single chime of comprehension rang across Eddie’s mind. He wasn’t just a sideshow; he was the lead fucking part. Our protagonist, ladies and gentlemen. He was Juliet, eyes tight shut with the world turning on knowledge of her death. Except she wasn’t dead.And neither was Hillbilly.“I thought,” Ack Ack chewed his lip between the words, “After all I’ve done for him, just this once, I can ask him to do this for me - this one thing.”A plethora of images from before the ridge, events he was witness to, sprung to Eddie’s aid.He remembered when they landed, how Andy fell behind – only to return a moment later, his hand firmly clasped around Eugene’s. He’d dragged the kid out of that shell-blasted ditch when he’d frozen up.He remembered the dark of the second night, fires burning on that airfield; how Andy squatted down beside a Private he didn’t need to remember the name of. Told the redhead about war and about justice and about his fear. Looked into those brown and eyes and said ‘I see you’.He remembered how he himself had called on Sledge and Leyden to climb over that machine gun-encrusted nightmare-fortress, get a better look. Had, until Andy said no. ‘No, no, I’m gonna scout it.’ Even Hillbilly, the good and former NCO, had thought it beyond sacrificial.He remembered the coffee pressed into Eugene’s hands from Andy’s, handed to a boy they both hoped would survive to go home but wouldn’t bet their money on it.His captain had cared a little too much, that was all.In the comfort of the bedroom, Andy let out a laugh, gaze turning to the ceiling. Embarrassed, a shake of his head and a short sigh portraying only exasperation at himself. An iconic sight to see; Andrew Haldane thinking himself a fool.“I asked too much.” Eddie’s heart lurched as his company spoke. “It wasn’t fair.”A calloused hand reached around Andy’s waist, squeezing him close. Their hips pressed together; a blond head of hair rested against Hillbilly’s shoulder. He cradled Ack Ack until the man could let out another sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to forget.It was suicide to dwell on it. Any of it.“So, why all the letters?” Eddie asked. He was calling curtain on this depressing production.“Well, I wasn’t around long after they sent you back.” His captain admitted, “But in those few days, I was cruel to Eugene. Wouldn’t speak to him much, barely acknowledged his presence. It wasn’t right.”He trailed off. Hillbilly used his free hand to shut the suitcase, pressing the leather down on its contents. The letters vanished into shadow, condemned to the road trip they would shortly be undertaking. Not addressed presently, guaranteed to be discussed later.Andy hummed in gratitude, twisting his head to bury his face in Eddie’s neck.“I need to apologise to him.” He admitted against his partner’s skin, a confession cradled in a sacred and intimate warmth, “I regret it every day.”The grip on Ack Ack’s waist released, replaced by that same hand in his hair instead. Fingers combing through his trimmed locks, Hillbilly stroked his head comfortingly.“I’m sure he can wait a lil’ longer.” He approached Mr. and Mrs. Haldane in the living room that afternoon.It was a strategic ambush, relying on Andy visiting a neighbour across the street. He had to return something he’d been meaning to, found in his things, before he left for an extended period. Jury was still out on the exact length of this absence. Unspoken predictions disclosed it might be quite the while.Forever, in theory. With visitation rights, of course.Eddie had the good graces to look as nervous as he felt. To wear the heart he had on his sleeve, even if it wasn’t what people wanted to see.“I wanted t’ thank you for lettin’ me stay in your home.” He began, nodding at each of them respectfully, “It was a pleasure and I’m sorry for any inconvenience I’ve caused you.”His attempt to speak properly fell short as ever. Mrs. Haldane smiled softly and tutted without her usual vigour.“It was lovely having you, Lieutenant.” She assured.A moment of silence, mourning what they all knew was coming, held the room. It smelt of acceptance and homesickness rather than discomfort. The old couple has resigned themselves to their son’s decision. Their honouring of it would be quiet and unobtrusive.“He’s certainly taken a shining to you, Lieutenant.” Mr. Haldane said. He had wandered away from his wife, after a squeeze of her hand, reaching the window.Eddie had to follow his gaze for confirmation. Beyond the glass, Lynn’s son stood across the street. Laughing on a neighbour’s porch, a child hugging his leg while their parent patted him lovingly on the shoulder. Naturally, everyone who’s life had been graced with Andrew’s presence loved him.It made Hillbilly swallow thickly, failing to dislodge his own Adam’s Apple. The wretched thing had doubled in size, trying to choke him for the greater good. This community would be avenged for his thievery of their darling boy.“He’s smiled more with you around than I think I’ve ever seen.” Mr. Haldane commented, his glasses returned to his hand for cleaning.His shirt cuff moved methodically across each lens. The rhythmic motions articulated his observation; a statement of fact, nothing more. Yet the fact, when aired, swelled Eddie’s chest with pride. (His glance toward Mrs. Haldane for rebuttal failed. Her soft smile had grown, her nod one of reluctant agreement.)Ribs trembling as he drew breath, Hillbilly straightened his back and dug his nails into his palm. The sharp pain kept the stinging in his eyes at bay. A thousand doubts circled him, shadowy sea creatures ready to catch his feet if he dared move a single each. They were loud in their convictions, heard through the roaring of blood in his ears. How he didn’t deserve this confessional, how the stupid hick with the nickname ‘Hillbilly’ could never truly earn the treasure he had somehow bedded.“Take good care of my son, Lieutenant.” Mr. Haldane said, “I can’t condone all his choices, but a man can’t be beholden to his father forever.”Lenses were returned to tired eyes, Lynn’s hand running briefly through his hair.“We can only wish him happiness.” He muttered, more to himself than his guest.Eddie heard nonetheless. Heard and swallowed, forcing the admittance down, down, down into his stomach. He’d keep it there forever, never forgetting the taste.“Make sure he steers himself right.” Mr. Haldane said, “And calls his mother regularly.”“Yes,” Mrs. Haldane cried, voice filled with her usual concern and confidence, “Make sure he calls!”Lynn laughed, as did she. Their mirth forced a breathless shudder from Hillbilly, a chuckle that freed the final rooting fear from his gut. The shackles that had almost pulled him from this house yesterday, threatening his greatest resolve, at last broke.“I will, sir.” He replied, “I will.”He could ask no more than their acceptance of this reality. Just like that, they left.It hit Eddie like a freight train the next morning, eyes drawn open by the dawn’s light and that infernal boot-camp habit. He laid there, against the soft sheets of the Haldane household for the last and final time. Cream and clean and sparkling with the patterns of those lace curtains. There was blond hair tickling his neck and warm breath rolling over his skin, Andy’s head resting with divine provenance against his chest.Outside, the birds were chirping. They greeted the gentle sway of those stars and stripes hanging just beneath the window.The bedroom ceiling was as pale as ever, Hillbilly’s only escape from the perfect beauty surrounding him. He had been unable to appreciate it truly until this moment.The features that created his form jarred so significantly with the world he was reclining in. Dark curls, scarred muscles, and worn black ink making up navy tattoos could never match this blond and beautiful home.What shook him was that, on this exact date in June, 1946; he could forget the guilt that came with the displacement. He could stretch and grin and crack his joints with teeth gritted happily.Because today he was leaving this place, where he didn’t belong. And he was taking the household’s crown jewel with him. It felt a lot like stealing.Andy kissed his parents goodbye on the porch. They hugged and spoke some then hugged again. His father shook his hand with a firm, paternal grip. His son then received a clap on the shoulder and wish for good fortune. The hugging continued again. Kisses were exchanged. Hands were clutched, old around young, not wanting to let go.Eddie watched from the road.It felt exactly like stealing because that was what it was.Which irritated the lieutenant; thievery was not a vice he ever formerly held. Drinking, gambling, cussing, fighting, killing - all sat relatively safe in the pit of his stomach. (Not including sodomy, the all-time family-favourite and reigning champion of the Edward Jones sin competition.) He’d never been a thief though, not that he could recall why. Taking hard earned goods off of other men just seemed dishonest in his eyes, if the world could put its prejudices aside long enough to believe him.Well, he could add it to the list. He’d just stolen the golden child from a previously undisturbed family of three.His arm rested on the top of the cab, driver door open and one foot already in. Not that he wanted to pretend he was in a hurry; if Andy was to be believed, they had a long road ahead of them. A couple of decades at least and lots of time together.The excitement for those years to begin was the only cure for the heartbreak, watching his captain bid farewell to his parents.Andy’s feet hit each step of the porch with a clatter. One after another, Eddie counted each stair, remembering the ten-mile march he’d found on them when he’d first arrived.His captain’s first footfall was slow, so not to startle his mother; careful but not hesitant. The second gave way to a creak; the whitewashed wood quietly protested the departure of their star inhabitant. By the third, his legs had sped to a rapid walk; briskly he crossed the garden path that separated him from the blue pickup awaiting him.Already Hillbilly was beaming. He looked to the American flag waving over the Haldane’s porch, one last time. In resolute silence, his fingers brushed his temple and he gave a brief salute.God Bless Lawrence, Massachusetts.Andy reached the car and tapped the roof with his knuckles.“Well?” He asked, “Shall we?”The grin across Eddie’s face cracked his features in two, pulled to the absolute limits of expressible joy.“Thought you’d never ask.” On a faraway island – Pavuvu, it was called - in 1944, Edward Jones left blood on a palm tree.Not any significant amount or for any ritual purpose, just because he scraped his forearm against it. Those trunks were rougher than they seemed and the tropical homestead was covered in them. It used to be a coconut plantation before the Imperial Japanese Army decided they had a better use for it. The U.S. Marine Corps then decided it had the best use for it; housing thousands of men.Rowdy, sweaty men who still hadn’t dried off from Cape Gloucester.Which bestowed the minor injury upon Hillbilly, a scrape caused by a particularly hard thrust on Ack Ack’s part. One Eddie relished in the moment, gritting his teeth to quell the shudder that ran up his spine. The growl he gave in response was nothing if not encouraging, his forehead joining his forearm where it rested against the tree. Using its trunk for balance, his knees planted firmly in the sand and his legs spread. His free hand gripped his cock tightly, pumping in time with his company’s motions.The rough slap of his cheeks as Andy thrusted into him was dulled by the thick vegetation they’d escaped to. Not that they should be doing this; they were supposed to be sensible officers who saved this from the privacy of their tent. That concept had been thrown swiftly out to sea when they’d found themselves with a morning off.“Fuck, Eddie-!” The captain’s hand slammed against the trunk to join his partner’s, almost falling over himself after another overexcited jerk of his hips.It brought their skin together, the sticky warmth of Eddie’s back flushed against Andy’s chest. The only relief from the heat was the pair of dog tags sandwiched between them, biting into Hillbilly’s shoulder blades. Again, he relished it.“Don’t-” He panted, “Fuckin’ stop-!”Incapable of patience, he arched his back, shoving his ass against Ack Ack’s cock. It forced the man’s length deep inside him, stretching him exquisitely. A hand grabbed his hips to stop his exploits. Overstimulated groans were wracked from Andy’s lips and Eddie couldn’t help but grin menacingly. What a sinful pleasure it was to force his captain to stop him in his motions.The deep chuckle he released must have given his enjoyment away. Ack Ack bit his neck in response, producing a new sound; a strangled moan from Hillbilly to match the coiling of his gut. The tree trunk found itself hit with a pale streak as Eddie came hard.“Quiet down.” Andy growled against the bruise blossoming on his lieutenant’s skin. It was nothing short of an order.“Can’t.” Hillbilly drawled, eyes shut and face fully pressed against the tree, “Came.”He couldn’t bring himself to care. Give it a few minutes and he might, for now he was content with slowing his breathing and enjoying the fading sensations of his orgasm. And the feeling of Ack Ack’s cock sliding in and out of him, of course.The other man had huffed at his premature display, shaking his head before he turned his focus back on his thrusts. Eddie dutifully adjusted himself, spreading his thighs and leaning over properly. Forehead on both his forearms, both his forearms on the tree. Back arched and toes curled, humming contently as Andy straightened up and gripped him with both hands.There was always a deep satisfaction to be found watching his captain use the most intimate part of him. Eddie could admit to that. It stirred him in a visceral way, cracking an eye open and craning his neck just enough to see Ack Ack fucking him against that tree. The concentration his lover gave, lip curling slightly as he fought against the wave of pleasure building. The marks left behind by his fingers, digging into Hillbilly’s hips, were testaments to the effort he put in.Boy, did Eddie love that effort. Even past his own climax, member already soft between his legs; his grunts of delight in time with Andy’s thrusts were always genuine. The deepest of which marked his captain doubling over, clenching his abdomen and knocking his forehead against Hillbilly’s shoulders. His rattling groan was unstifled, low and heavy and completed by a final few spasms of his hips.Andy finally fell still, his movement replaced only by heavy pants for air. Eddie turned back to the tree and grinned. A muttered “Fuck.” escaped the man behind him.“You okay?” The taller party chuckled.“Yeah-” Was mumbled against his shoulder, “Yes.”Hillbilly reached out blindly and patted his lover’s ribs. (He was aiming for the hip but shot a little too high.) He hissed quietly as Andy’s softening cock slid out of him, head hung in amusement and for the spectacle. This way he could look beneath himself, the area shadowed by his leaning form. To the disturbed sand and drops of lubricant falling from his hole.His captain fell back to the ground without any grace. He sat naked, legs parted as he wrestled briefly with the condom still on him. Bothering to tie it off was apparently a luxury the mighty Captain Haldane couldn’t afford; he tossed it away into the brush without trying.Eddie had turned to face him by then. Though his position was much the same – legs spread, ass in the sand - his back rested against the tree. The knowledge this was the more comfortable of their locations did not escape him.Leaning back on the heels of his hands, Andy smiled wickedly his way, “You always know how to get me riled.”“Hmph.” Eddie’s grin grew, “It’s a specialist skill I’ve cultivated.”Between their heaving chests, he noticed Andy watching him. Gazing, lingering on every inch of his features. Probably because his lieutenant was usually a gentlemen and eagerly sucked him off after their exploits, cleaning up after the show. That was the logical explanation, since it couldn’t be anything aesthetic related. Eddie would proclaim he wasn’t much to look at, even on his smartest days.And under the scorching sun and dirt of their occupation? Nobody could love such an appearance. (So Eddie believed, in absolute completeness.)“What?” He grunted, confident there was no sweet explanation.Andy’s honesty trumped him again.“Just enjoying you.” He replied, “You’re gorgeous.”Heat erupted over Eddie’s cheeks, unrelated to his orgasm. His legs instinctively shifted closer together, his gaze averted to the brush line. All the signs of discomfort and yet no justification to the feeling’s origins. His low self esteem need go unstated by now; Ack Ack was the respectful type and had never asked.He simply continued to compliment, without embellishment, praying for the day his words would be accepted.“Shit.” Hillbilly broke them free of that potential conversation, lifting his arm into view, “Scraped m’ arm.”The gash was skin-deep and the blood flow mere droplets. He inspected it with distain, wiping the crimson on his stomach. Andy grasped his forearm gently, bringing his rough mannerisms to a halt. His captain had crawled closer, planting his knees either side of Eddie’s outstretched legs. The man rested there comfortably, straddling his lover as he tended to his wound. Their cocks were pressed together, soft and sensitive flesh brushing. It was intimate beyond compare, feeling the heat of each other’s skin. The warmth was cozy; Hillbilly glanced down longingly to make sure he wasn’t imagining it.His unwounded arm wrapped itself around Ack Ack’s waist, fingers rubbing circles into the small of the man’s back.“I love you.” Eddie muttered, looking back up at his partner.They’d said it before now. Sometime on Gloucester when they felt they needed to. It didn’t remove the power that single word held or the rarity with which it fell from the lieutenant’s lips. A handful of times, counted on two hands easily.And only since meeting Andrew Haldane.His captain paused his work, dabbing the cut clean with his discarded shirt.“I love you too, Eddie.” He whispered.Finished with the scrape, the garment was re-discarded. It freed Andy’s hands to be laid flat against the tree trunk, either side of his lover’s head. His wrists brushed Eddie’s ears. They shared a gentle kiss when Ack Ack leant in closer. His waist was gripped by two strong arms, fully coiled around him now. Their naked bodies shared their warmth, radiating into each other under a blazing sun.“I wanna go f’ a drive.” Hillbilly mumbled against his captain’s lips.Pulling away but an inch, Ack Ack asked; “What do you mean?”His frown was barely visible and only a fraction concerned. Almost like he feared he couldn’t deliver.“When we’re home.” Eddie explained.The longing in his voice was a burden they shared. It was stupid to wish out here and though the lieutenant told himself he did not do so, the desperate desire in his tone lacked only the literal request. He thought he could get away with it.If he said it as a statement, then they could declare it was a fact. A certainty, that he would get exactly what he said he ‘wanted’. Naturally, a marine would do exactly as he pleased back home.But getting in a car back home wasn’t the uncertainty in the sentence, was it.Neither men expressed any of this. There was no reason to air laundry that everyone saw on the line each day.“You want to go for a drive?” Andy chuckled instead, amused at the simplicity of the desire.Eddie’s frown was unhappy.“No.” He said, rough speech extenuated by his displeasure at the question, “Not just me.”“Oh-” Andy breathed, smiling with genuine embarrassment, “My mistake.”Satisfied with the apology, Hillbilly nodded and grunted again. He lifted his head from the tree to close the inches between their lips. Their open mouths enjoyed a slow, steady kiss, tongues moving without any hurry.“Mnn-” Ack Ack pulled back once more despite Eddie’s protesting hum. Apparently, this conversation was important and demanded an encore. “Where’ll we go for a drive?”Not thinking much of it at the time – or believing it to ever be a possibility – Eddie only huffed. He gave whatever answer sprung to mind, keen to press their lips together again and get his tongue back in Andy’s mouth.“Boston. I ain’t been there.” The picture they painted across the horizon was immaculate.They were a flash of flecked blue paintwork, the faintest red rusting the pick-up’s edges. Sheltered objects were strapped in the truck bed, covered with canvas tarp, a mystery to the world. Their precious items were safely piled in the footwell and on their laps, behind the seat at their necks or shoved into their overloaded pockets. They were a two-man travelling band and the tune was a marching one.A single hand on his large steering wheel, Eddie could enjoy their shared cigarettes from the dashboard. He briefly steered with his knees before he noticed Andy already reaching over, zippo in hand. His fingers returned to the wheel as his captain lit his smoke then leaned back into the passenger seat.Even after so long, their unspoken vows and split-second conversations had gone nowhere.Eddie tipped his head up in gratitude, relishing a long, sweet drag. The smoke disappeared out the window for the highway to enjoy. Andy was tapping a pencil against his ear. It had been playing between his fingers for some time. His right knee was still hooked up against the door; his thigh was his writing table for the letter he was drafting.“What y’ got so far?” Hillbilly asked around the smoke between his teeth.Ack Ack blew out his cheeks.“Dear Eugene,” He recited, “I hope this letter finds you well and in good health. I assume with all confidence that you have made it safely home to Mobile and are enjoying the approaching summer. Though I cannot apologise on their behalf, I can still express my condolences and regret-”He paused, leaning down to scratch out a word.“Regret, that should say, not ‘reget’.” Andy cleared his throat, continuing on, “And regret that you would be deployed several additional months in China come the war’s end.”“What cunts.” Eddie remarked. There was no chance he was referring to Eugene or his company.Andy pressed on without remark.“It would be a pleasure to hear what has become of you and your family, who I also send my best wishes in these times of recovery.” He sighed, breaking his flow to glance at the driver, “Too much?”Hillbilly laughed, smoke pulled from his lips to speak gruffly; “Keep goin’.”“You’re not going to give me notes?” Andy teased.“I’ll give ‘em you at the end.” Came the harsh response, “So keep goin’.”Ack Ack cleared his throat once again.“While I would be thrilled to hear from any of King Company now that our fight is over, I specifically wish to write you and make amends for my-“ He paused, remorse punctuating his recital, “Transgressions.”The pencil tapped the paper, alight with indecision. Silence reigned until Hillbilly changed hands on the steering wheel, able to reach over and give his love’s knee a squeeze.“I believe-“ Andy muttered, letters now appearing as he spoke, “That I acted unbefitting of both your commanding officer and your friend, during our final days together on Peleliu. I burdened you with my grief and fixed you with a blame that you did not deserve. I acted as if your actions were anything but that of the finest marine, dutiful servant to our cause, and courageous young man.”The breeze from the driver window whipped Andy’s hair against his forehead. The locks moved over his scar, the mottled skin and surgical incision that left the faintest of balding where it met his hairline.“I asked something of you that you could-“ Ack Ack swallowed, the memory dancing across his vision.He sniffed. Once.Eddie helpfully passed him a cigarette. The captain took it between his lips but made no effort to light it. His partner noted the act of sacrifice sadly. Forgoing the small relief of nicotine could not undo their acts of warfare.“That you could never undertake with certainty.” Andy continued, voice dropping in volume with every passing moment. Barely a whisper as he desperately clawed for the finish. “I feel nothing but regret and remorse for how I treated you then, after Lieutenant Jones was taken off the line. I failed you as a leader and wronged you as a companion. Please accept my deepest and sincerest apologies, along with a request that we meet once more in person, if only so I may express my grief over our parting.”A deep inhale lifted the man’s chest, his need for air having gone ignored under the weight of his confession. He glanced out at the highway disappearing under their tires, a beautiful landscape witnessed through tearful eyes. The road was stained orange in the afternoon sun. A bright and familiar colour, far enough from crimson that no mistake could be made.There would be no more red and rising suns across their horizons.Andy then looked to the one beside him, steering them right and true. Foot on the pedal, stripped down to his vest, thick belt, and worn jeans. Jeans from a youth Ack Ack was determined to know, to explore as he had with every inch of the man’s body.He loved this man.Eddie knew he did. He could feel it, without taking his eyes off the road. He had always known, only been unable to accept.“Your obedient servant,” Andy muttered, no longer speaking to the letter’s recipient, “Andrew Haldane.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
A sign welcoming them to Boston passed their window before the orange sun dipped below the horizon.The warmth of summer had set in and it left their journey with a strange haze, dulling the sting of the weighty decision coursing through their veins. They showed it no consideration, parked up by some railroad tracks and reclining in the truck bed. Amongst their belongings, Andy’s suitcase and Eddie’s guitar. The moon had faded into view whilst the sky still clung to the light.Folding the paper ever so carefully, Ack Ack placed his letter to their mortarman inside a sturdy envelope. He did not seal it.“It still needs a return address.” He said. His head rested in the crook of Eddie’s neck, the man’s arm around his waist.“Put y’ parents then.” Hillbilly replied.He couldn’t see the smile that took Andy’s lips, but he felt it. The shift of cheek muscles against the tanned skin over his throat. It was a radically beautiful sensation.“They’ll need a forwarding address.” The captain said.His point was not lost on Eddie a second time.A tired man’s temple found rest atop blond hair, a sigh rattling from Hillbilly’s chest. Acceptance could be smelt on his breath, fresh as morning dew and twice as wistful. He’d never tasted such hesitant belief on his tongue. Yet, with the brute force and raw determination he exalted in, he pushed himself through.Allowed himself to be convinced that he and Andy were going to forge a home together. Somewhere they wanted to. Anywhere they wanted to. They were going to live in the peace and happiness that their country, their military, their God had promised them.They were going to make this work. They slept beneath the stars together.Claiming it was the first time would be a lie. Many a foxhole had seen them share weary embraces and brief interludes of rest. They’d held hands similarly to how they did now, fingers intertwined and legs tangled. Only with their chests rising and falling peacefully here, under a civilian sky. The only artillery was the rattle of the train cars passing by. Such noises failed to rouse them in the dark.It didn’t need to be the first time to be special. Boston was nice.‘Nice’ in the same instance as it was used for the Haldane’s family church. The unconventional sense of the word, meaning unfamiliar and unwelcome, rubbing Eddie the wrong way, and leaving him grimacing at the sheer expanse of distaste he felt for the place. A ‘nice’ said with a curt smile and wandering eyes.He was glad he got to see it, however. The experience of the city was one he’d never repeat, but gratefully enjoyed.The Boston Gentleman’s Club was nice, too.Another kind of nice. A ‘nice’ said in a breathless grunt after a thick swallow, to cover the sinful performance running behind embarrassed eyes.Not that Eddie had known that when he’d handed over the flyer, found shoved down the back of his bed. How suspiciously easy it was to get a shared room in the South End had not gone unnoticed. The single-sex rooming houses were numerous and spared them not a single glance when they’d stepped across the threshold.Perhaps God was sending him a sign. Perhaps people like them were simply good at carving out space for themselves, away from prying eyes.Andy took the paper in the hand not occupied by his cigarette. He looked youthful, back against the metal bars of his bed and legs stretched out. His toes flexed beneath his socks, shifting his garters slightly. All on full display for his company, having stripped down to his boxers. (Leaving his shirt on, of course, to preserve his modesty. Hillbilly was not so concerned, reflecting the opposite; nothing on his top half or feet but his jeans still squarely around his hips.)“Looks intriguing.” Ack Ack mused.His frown was one of curiosity and respect, digesting the printed advertisement word by word. He nodded slowly as he worked his way over it. The cheap brown paper between his fingers boasted a monochrome illustration of two men in suits, engaged in a risqué waltz. The address and dates were surrounded by innuendo and requests to join the fictitious pair for a dance.Clearly the advertisement had worked. Andy wanted to go.“Sounds like a quick way t’ get y’self a blue ticket.” Eddie said.A careful blink moved Ack Ack’s gaze from the flyer, upward, cast dangerously in his company’s direction.“We’re not in the marines anymore, Eddie.” Andy reminded him.Powerful words and that sharp stare pierced Hillbilly’s quiet glance, forcing him to look elsewhere. His averted eyes roamed the floorboards for a moment, considering that proposition. As if it were a proposition, a suggestion of change that he might deny, rather than reality itself.“I don’t have a suit.” He mumbled.He didn’t have any fancy clothes, to be accurate. There was a smart jacket and pale tie somewhere in his lover’s suitcase, that was it between them. All his personal fittings were made of cotton or rough wool, spun to military regulation.Andy’s smile accompanied the shaking of his head. Exasperation fuelled by fondness and affection; he would never judge the man who glanced back at him nervously. With vulnerable blue eyes and a fear that had been pushed so far down his throat Ack Ack wondered if he could ever coax it all back out. (Who had forced it down there was no mystery. A long list that Andy would bet money started with a Mr. Jones, senior.)The captain rolled the flyer between his fingers. He held it up to illustrate his elaboration, used it to jab in Eddie’s direction. His words were loving but pointed.“You have your dress blues.” Better than any suit, they’d always said.Men flocking back to the States in all manner of ties and brass belt buckles. Garrison caps for the average joes, poised peaks for the commissioned boys. Pink and green, blue and white. The latter for the sailors, naturally. (Eddie’s old favourite. Formerly, perhaps, but he’d always hold a soft spot for those navy types. They were the most accommodating of his preferences and very generous with their service.)Dress uniforms had a certain allure to them, that wasn’t up for debate.He could confess such before now. While never one for leering, chasing boys with his eyes like a certain Cajun atop an oil drum, Hillbilly had always enjoyed a glance over varying dressed up men. Subtle trails left by his gaze, rolling up pant legs to neatly knotted ties. Bashfully, his eyes would retreat each time and never linger.He’d keep those glances in his mind’s eye. Resurrected like the grave sins they were, during the darkest nights against Melbourne sheets. Even that was too late an admission; Eddie had followed the vanishing uniforms against officer’s backs throughout his time in the marines. Imagined their feel under his fingers, encouraged by their owner’s smile.He’d stopped needing to imagine, eventually. With summer uniforms, khaki and bland, then with thick winter ones.Never with that deep, dark blue.He was embarrassed as he pulled his own dress uniform out, carefully so, from a duffle he slung on his bed. (Two single beds for two grown men? Perfect. They could use one for their bags and laugh about struggling to fit onto the other.) The wool was old, thick, the buttons shining in the dying light they had rarely seen. It was pristine and immaculate.In his hands, it felt cheap.Eddie was ashamed of the red piping. These were an enlisted man’s dress blues, he remembered.They had never issued him different, not having needed to after ’42. Besides, men going home to nothing had no need to play dress up. (They’d handed over officer’s greens, at least, and even that had taken some teeth pulling.)Juliet would have no need to attend any fancy ballroom affairs. She’d be dead.As Eddie should have been, in another life. In this one, he could run his fingers over the incorrect uniform. It was wrong in a more pressing sense; it was too fine for his calloused hands. A decoration only for those who enlisted to uphold the doctrines of God and country.Over the back of his hand, a less calloused palm was placed. Andy gripped their fingers together, skin to skin to dress blues’ fabric. The warmth was that of a Melbourne beach when touching the sand.“I, er-” Eddie spoke as he felt the man’s eyes on his temple, soft and crying out to give him aid, “I gotta use the restroom.”Not to relieve himself – though he’d welcome a cleansing heave, similar to what he’d graced the Haldane’s neighbours with. Throwing up all the twists and turns rolling around the muscles of his abdomen, making mincemeat of his gut. He walked stiffly to the bathroom the moment that sun-kissed warmth freed his hand.He wanted so desperately to get away. He did so only when Andy graciously let him.The door to their small washroom snapped shut and Eddie released a trembling breath. Shoulders rattling with his chest, his forehead laid itself against the splintering wood. Fingers still clutching the handle, thumb brushing the keyhole. He thought of pressing his skin there, blocking any peeping view. As if Andy could be so cruel.The book that was Edward Jones sat open in Captain Haldane’s palm and the man would have to be blind not to read the word ‘distress’ blotted over the current page.Outside, Hillbilly could hear his lover helping him. Through a wooden door and across a rented room, Ack Ack was humming merrily to himself. An upbeat tune going nowhere, the purposeful squeak of one mattress. The sounds of putting on socks, of buckling and unbuckling and buckling a belt again. The flick of a lighter.Casual sounds. In a casual rented room, free of judgement and full of nothing but compassion.Andy was ensuring their outing was no big deal. He was succeeding.He must’ve been; Eddie’s forehead lifted from the wood of the door. He gazed longingly at the slight damp patch left in his wake. It was only then he realised that he clutched this dress blues beneath his arm. The sweep of his forearm over his sweaty brow was genuine, hastily straightening out the uniform against the toilet. His ass pressed against the sink, no room left for him to cower.This was not how he remembered himself.Years upon years in the marine dirt, dust, and sweat – the latter never just your own – had not shaped a boy shy about his body. He’d laughed at the sight, in fact, of boots like Sledge when they’d arrived. Clutching their uniforms close and wide-eyed at their shirtless comrades. (Maybe he’d laughed for a few other reasons when it came to Eugene.)If Andy ever ordered Eddie to strip in Times Square, Eddie would shrug. And he’d follow that order, afraid of not a single consequence. Nudity in the public gaze didn’t scare him. Prison didn’t either these days.His left hand laid on the porcelain, he supported his weight on the toilet. He clutched the uniform in his right.Eddie wasn’t shy, yet he’d retreated all the same. He wasn’t sure why. Andy was dressed when he emerged.His dress blues were officer standard. A true black tunic, rather than a botched shade of darkest blue. With sparkling gold and silver pins, captain’s bars pressed deep into his shoulders. That same shine caught his Sam Browne belt, polished black leather creating a regal, elegant contrast. There was a gold band across his peaked cap, currently being mulled over in his hands where he faced his bed.Same pants. That was something, Eddie supposed.He’d never seen Andy in garb like that. A pity he’d never taken the time to mourn before today.Hillbilly let his gaze drag over that uniform the same way he always had. Leaving subtle trails behind his gaze, rolling up pant legs to a firmly buckled belt. Bashfully, his eyes continued to a collar free of ugly red piping.And there he found a first, something extraordinary to break his trance. He had to blink and force back a frown of confusion.He was left to look Andy in the eyes. To briefly study his captain’s features in the warm orange that fell through the slats of their broken blind, illuminating the shaken look. Eyes slightly wider, lips parted, cheeks twitching with the ghostly grip of a smile.It came together to create an expression Eddie could only call smitten. He was loathed to use the word on a man looking directly at him.Once again, he’d attempted to outsmart Andrew Haldane and failed. He’d expected the man to look magnificent in his blues and prepared only for that. He hadn’t expected his love to think the same of him.Yet, Andy still beamed. Infatuated with an awe that licked at his rising smile, crinkled his tired eyes with new life and the curves of pure joy.“Eddie,” He began, voice teetering on cracking but remaining firm, “You’re gorgeous.”The frown fell away from Hillbilly’s brow. He had yet to release his grip on the bathroom door.In his endless stupidity, he needed to glance down. To check and confirm that he was, in fact, dressed in the uniform he believed he had pulled on. A single droplet fell from a curl of his hair, caught where he’d splashed his face with cool water. A technique to compose himself for the moment he was currently butchering.He lifted his head once more to face Andy. Vulnerable, as his eyes reflected what he’d inevitably found; an old set of dress blues, pristinely cared for in their ten-year coffin. With neat red piping about the collar, and a set of red and gold chevrons he had yet to remove.Looking up from under his curls, Eddie pleaded for something more. Anything to keep him here, where they were right now. In the reality they had seen broken and then built again, beaten into shape like the stubborn steel it was.For the first time, the lieutenant didn’t want to think back. He didn’t want that cutting compliment to drag him back to a coconut tree on a bastard island. Somewhere he’d hate and treasure for the rest of his life, basking in the warmth of his captain’s glow. Somewhere pure and bloody and good and not here.‘Bring me home’, Eddie pleaded.The door to the bathroom shut with a clatter, forced into place by the weight of Hillbilly’s back. The weight of two men really, rattling the chipped wood as Andy rammed his lover against it. Fingers fisted in that red and blue collar, faded marine pins slicing into the skin of his palms. The pain electrified him in the way it always had.The situation thrilled him in the way Eddie always did.Their lips broke apart after a moment, a thin trail of saliva the last thing connecting them. Hillbilly’s arched eyebrows, raised high to compliment his heavy panting, portrayed his innocence in the abrupt affair. He swallowed thickly in their pause and wiped his fingers over his moistened lips. His free hand remained flat against the door in shock.The heat on his cheeks was of the rarer kind. Under no delusion that his captain, whilst shorter, couldn’t floor him in a moment; he did enjoy the brisk reminder.Andy had his teeth gritted, breath heavy not from surprise but pure arousal. His grip slackened on Eddie’s uniform collar for the fabric’s sake alone.His slow blink punctuated the movement of his eyes. He dragged them over the handsome attire of his lieutenant then brought them back, drunk and sated, to Eddie’s expectant features.“We’re going to be late.” Andrew heaved breathlessly.It was an order. Hillbilly was inclined to obey. Sat on the edge of his single bed, Eddie fastened his collar back up to where it belonged.The buttons were stiff and required an ounce of strength to force back through the holes. Lucky he’d only undone a couple so that a warm mouth could find his neck. The sheets behind him remained untangled beyond some bags and his ass; they’d been spared this round. The pair had utilised Andy’s strong arms instead and graciously used the wall.The mattress dipped as said man sat beside him. Following his eyes, Eddie found him looking to his chevrons.The marks of a Staff Sergeant. Red and gold.Careful fingers brushed the insignia. They were loving.“Cut ‘em off.” Eddie said, with all the ceremony of the dying.The hand retreated an inch, burned by his blunt tone. Hillbilly watched in silence, eyes cast down on that tender touch and nothing more.Andy paused before he spoke. He considered every word carefully. His lips parted to speak and then closed shortly after.Instead, he said nothing. It was the right call.What respect could be shown by questioning the request, besides implying that perhaps Eddie should keep the mark of an enlisted marine. Continue to uphold the doctrine of a universe in which simple men did not officers make.Andy reached out, to the bags behind them. He returned momentarily with a pair of unpolished scissors. He didn’t pause or falter, not even glancing upwards so their gazes could meet.The severance was Eddie’s to order and endure. And Ack Ack would carry out that order, to the letter. He trusted his lieutenant.Those rhythmic snips created soft, simple music in the dark. They’d had to turn the bedside lamp on as the evening drew deeper. They were definitely late to tonight’s grand affair.It was worth it, to feel Andy fucking him so smittenly against that flaking door, so completely overwhelmed by the sight of his dress blues. It was worth it now, too, to hear the quiet snip, snip, snip as age old threads were carefully unpicked.The chevrons he had sewn into his very skin fell away, pulled free by loving hands. The wounds left behind did not bleed.Eddie turned. He pressed one knee on the mattress and knelt. He presented his other arm without a word. It was Andy who pressed the lieutenant’s bars into his shoulders.Fitting, the man had pressed a fair few things into him over the years.His dick, for one. That fleeting immaturity didn’t escape Eddie’s mind, making him grin as the second silver bar was secured against the fabric. His smirk was small and went unnoticed. (Or so he hoped.)There were far more important things, he knew, that Andrew had pressed into him during their time together. He recited them silently as they descended the stairs of their rooming house, shoes clapping in time with one another’s.Officer responsibilities, a sense of belonging to a rank Hillbilly felt beyond his scope of understanding. Turned out officers were just like everybody else, for the most part. (Captain Andrew Haldane, leading him down the lamp-lit alleys of Boston, was an outlier to the statement.)Self-respect, the art of putting unflattering doubt and decade long embarrassment to the sword. That was still a work in progress, having needed to be pressed upon him slowly by an ever-patient touch. From their first meeting, shaking hands with a genuine congratulations in Melbourne, to the firm grip against the back of his collar now. Squeezing those dress blues, the sweaty skin beneath, and drawing in close to whisper.(“You look dashing.” Andy muttered against his ear, lips running over the sensitive skin. They could see the dimly lit basement entrance and though Eddie had refused to run, his hesitation must’ve been clear. That was all put to the slaughter under that firm grip and those excitable words, alighting his spine with a heat that made his step quicken.)Sympathy for men like himself, cutting out a fear of God’s wrath and replacing it with acceptance of their fate, if little else. Eddie had hidden the cross his mother bestowed on him under the fragile metal of a cigarette tin, and thought the burial enough. It had haunted him fleetingly, day in and day out, until he met a captain who didn’t fear God in the slightest. A man who led him down those basement steps by the hand, into the roaring music and twirling cigar smoke.A place illuminated by crimson lampshades, covered in tassels. A faithful depiction of Hell itself, shadows spinning over the bar amongst flying skirts and dresses, with not a woman in sight. All the Devils were dancing and having a wonderful time of it.It was hard to fear God’s wrath beside someone who seemed perfectly willing – and capable, even – of standing toe to toe with the divine.And finally; a belief in compassion, in tenderness, in love. Its existence wasn’t debated, merely that Eddie deserved it. That had been a hard one to allow to permeate his skin. It seeped deeper with every passing moment, saturating his heart, and soaking the parts of him he thought untouchable. Andy loved him so completely, he wished he’d had the humility to accept it earlier.He accepted it now and that was enough, it seemed. Leaning on a polished bar, two marines in their dress blues, stood closer than they’d ever dared. Two glasses, ready and waiting, just for them. Whisky splashed their fingers and they roared with laughter rather than curses, hands grabbing each other’s waists to crush that gap between them.With Eddie’s wrist in his grip, Andy pulled his love’s fingers closer and devilishly ran his tongue across them. Lapping up the alcohol dripping from warm skin, wasted on the wooden surface. Spilled from cups overflowing. Eddie hadn’t touched a drop yet and his hot, surly embarrassment cut across his features, plain as day. His furrowed brow and panicked stare returned for an instant, though he tamed them with silence and tight pressed lips.“Relax.” Ack Ack muttered, eyes narrow and drunk on something unrelated to liquor, “Not a man here minds.”He was right, as per. A quick but pointed glance around their company revealed exactly that.Men too preoccupied with their dance partners, some in pants and a few in magnificent frocks. Or those scattered around the many, many tables; in chairs or each other’s laps. On the stage, a singer in what might supposedly be a toga moved lovingly to his own melody, lips massaging the microphone. Suits and gowns and uniforms all around made for a splendid array, splattered with the crimson of the lampshades.A red light that was unnatural and harsh. Not even a distant relation of rising sunlight.Eddie had to look back to his company, satisfied and yet left cold in his expression. The club truly was impressive but it felt shameful to show his glee for the display. Some bizarre pride, thoroughly misplaced, had Hillbilly believing that he should appear unphased. Indifferent, uninspired. Seen it all before.He'd never seen anything like this. Not once, throughout the entirety of his stellar queer career.A setting he’d never sought after as equally as he’d never known where to find it. His watering holes tended to be regular bars in choice locations, after hours, and down by the dockyards. And gas station bathrooms. And park bathrooms. A lot of bathrooms, come to think of it. (He preferred not to.)Maybe that was exactly it; he’d spent so long being a faggot, he should have experienced at least a simple taste of this decadence.He hadn’t and he felt distinctly like he should have. Entitled to enjoy the culture he so actively avoided. It left a fresh embarrassment to blossom within his chest, frown buried in the whisky he brought to his lips. Head thrown back, he gulped it down. Andy had released his wrist to sip his own drink and Eddie wouldn’t waste the opportunity to drown his emerging sorrow.“Scotch…” He muttered to himself as he inspected the empty glass.This wasn’t whisky, not as he understood the term. This was higher quality. Flying far above the bourbon of his childhood, watered down for worse measure.“Correct.” He heard Andy chuckle beside him, “A fine deduction. And a fine brand, as well.”His lover leant over the bar, holding up two whisky-splashed fingers. A longing glance caught those digits, sent by Hillbilly, who desperately wished to return the favour from a moment earlier. He could still feel Andy’s tongue on his skin.“Another of the same, please.” The blond asked the bartender.A man with a neatly trimmed moustache came to serve them again. Slimmer than Mr. Haldane’s had been, this moustache was stylish in its pedigree. Eddie felt nostalgia tug at his mind, loosened by the smoke rather than the pitiful amount of alcohol. (He was just getting started.)Pilots had that kind of fine grooming. Along with attractive uniforms, silk scarves, thick jackets. The latter laid on the cold bathroom floor, to keep Hillbilly’s knees comfortable. An act of a gentleman as flyboys often were. Cocky, in several ways, and pompous – but usually gentlemen.Eddie turned back to the bar, scooping up the second whisky poured for him to cover his splitting grin. He tossed it back to smother the thought of those moustaches tickling the sensitive skin above his hole, barely hiding satisfied smirks as he grunted for more.Somehow, this den they stood in felt a good fit for such fleeting sensations. It certainly brought them out in him easily.“What do I owe you?” Andy was asking, punctuated by his lieutenant’s glass clattering against the bar.“On the house.” The bartender replied, though he took the time to run his eyes up and down and up again, over Eddie’s hand still clutching his second empty drink and tall stature, “For now.”Ack Ack tutted softly, gaze still focused on the moustached man. As his lover beside him was, frown almost threatening. Only Eddie could sour a kind gesture with suspicion.“Thank you,” The blond said, “But to what do we owe the pleasure?”The interrogation technique was flawless. What an outstanding officer, tone ever managing to draw submission from an array of personnel. Carrying command quietly, even over the sweet tunes of their entertainment behind them.The bartender, to his credit, leant forward rather than back. Both fists on the bar, knuckles down. He looked to each of them in turn. Hillbilly’s scowl softened as the lamplight rolled over that moustache, revealing grey tickling the brown.“I’ve seen all manner of uniforms in here.” The bartender explained, tipping his head towards the other patrons, “GI’s for each season, flyboys in their leather-”For the briefest second, their narrator gayly rolled his eyes. Red light flashed against the whites of his eyes. Andy’s smile grew.“Sailors every fucking day of the week.” The bartender droned.Eddie failed to catch himself before he started nodding in agreement. Eyes shut momentarily in solidarity before his back straightened, snapped back to the present in humiliation. A truly pitiful display of immorality, spurred by a mention of sailors that Andy certainly didn’t miss.Hillbilly was relieved to see his captain stifle laughter at the glimpsed display, snickering into his latest sip of whisky. They shared a knowing look, one smile coaxing out another.“A few marines, too, when they could be persuaded off their bullshit bravado,” The bartender continued on, bold as brass, and it was a refreshing tune to their ears. Both marines listened more intently from the insult. “But this-”The moustached man was unscrewing a different bottle of summer coloured liquid, using it to indicate the uniforms before him. A different brand than the one that had been requested prior. An older, darker whisky.“Never these blues.” He finished, punctuated by the plump pop of the bottle opening, “And I like a nice surprise.”The scotch glugged softly where it refilled their glasses. Almost to the brim, on Eddie’s side, making a silent but pointed statement as to his prior behaviour. This was not gulping whisky from the buttfuck region of nowheresville, West Virginia.Hillbilly felt challenged. He certainly gripped the glass like he had been.A finger slapped the skin of his hand. He almost flinched. The digit was then pointed at his nose, the bartender holding his gaze as he scolded a naughty child.“Savour it.” He ordered.They shared that heated look for another second before Eddie slowly moved his eyes to Andy. Who was leant comfortably against the bar, sipping his own scotch, and failing to reign in his absolutely face-cracking smirk.“Do as he says, Lieutenant.” Ack Ack agreed, “He’s being very gracious.”On command, Eddie’s hand withdrew from the glass. He leant forward, bowing to the bartender it seemed, as he hovered his face over the scotch. (He pretended he didn’t catch the bartender’s knowing look, shared with his captain. Of respect and admiration for a dog well trained.)He inhaled deeply, making a show of smelling the fragrance of the whisky. Which was a truth in itself; his nostrils filled with the strong scent and it had his mind reeling. Searching, not spinning, for the words to describe the taste.He didn’t have them, he knew. He didn’t desire to impress Andy with false academic jargon, far from it, but he did want to express his feelings. Because he truly had never smelt a whisky so fine, alighting the senses with a flavour from the deep. Deeper than any stolen mountain region he called home, despite the stories he’d been told.Something ancient, from somewhere older and wiser. The kind of place Eddie appreciated with awe and Andy belonged as royalty.He glanced up at said royalty, still bent over the bar. Eddie smiled.“Smells good.” He said.This time, he wasn’t embarrassed by the simplicity. Not here in this den, where Ack Ack could have any man he fancied without hesitation or consequence.Andy was still there at the bar. He was here with chosen company, wasn’t he.Seemed he was, as Hillbilly straightened up and took the glass in hand. Tipped his head back and took two, three gulps to empty the glass. Slow ones, with pause to breathe in between.He was a creature of habit, not just obedience. It was worth the chuckle from Andy, the way he dipped his head and rested it against his forearms on the bar in defeat. The bartender laid a hand against his own forehead and wailed quietly, decrying the display.“Fuck, that’s good.” Eddie said, addressing their gracious server with genuine delight. His smile was gone, replaced by the slightest furrow of his brow, interested and apologetic in the same breath, “Thank you.”The moustached man considered the gratitude, digesting it. It seemed to satisfy and he lent forward. He placed a single chaste kiss to Hillbilly’s cheek, obviously appreciating the simple honesty.“My pleasure.” He said.His hips swayed with renewed vigour as he sauntered down the bar. To another customer vying for his delightful attention. The tall, curly haired man watched him leave, head turning to follow his moves.“A fitting start to a fine evening.” Andy murmured against his ear.Eddie refused to turn into the warmth, mostly for fear of slamming their heads together in some comical failure of intimacy. He continued watching the bartender instead, revelling in the sensations that he couldn’t see the source of. The damp heat of breath against his ear, the warmth of a body pressing close to his side, the tight grip of the arm snaking around his waist.“Start?” Hillbilly managed to murmur, around the burn in his throat and the lust coiling his gut.This whole place was drowning him in sinful pleasures. He was inhaling the water himself, swimming deeper rather than kicking towards the surface.“Mnn.” Ack Ack hummed in confirmation, “Did I not inform you of our plan of attack?”“Why, no.” Eddie chuckled, mimicking the same Shakespearian dramatics, adding words where grunts would do, “I believe y’ have left me without orders from the brass, sir.”His weight shifted, leaning into that warmth. Through radiant fabric, skin melted into skin. Andy had silently waved over another bartender, exchanged payment this time for more drink. All without disturbing their intimate contact, a feat that owed significantly to their servers’ unique discretion. Familiarity with the clientele, it seemed.“Well,” Andy murmured, chin now on Eddie’s shoulder and not a gasp of air between their bodies, “This isn’t from the brass, per se…”A dangerous line. Forgiven by the fingers appearing in Hillbilly’s line of sight, glancing down to find another full glass of scotch slid across the bar. Around his elbow, supporting both their weight on the wood. He used his free left hand to take it and swallow the burning liquid. He didn’t dare to move too much, relishing their closeness, the hand flat against his stomach where Andy had wrapped his arm around him. Presumedly, he was using his other to sip his own drinks in between muttering sweet nothings into Eddie’s ear.“But I fully intend on dancing with you until we’ve had enough to fall into one of those chairs,” Ack Ack explained, “Maybe rob a few men of their earnings under the guise of cards, if I can keep my hands off you long enough.”Cautiously, Hillbilly turned within the man’s hold. Shifting with a grunt that became a quiet sigh, shoulders rolling as he did so. He lowered his adjusted arms carefully down, one elbow back on the bar, the other hanging lazily around Andy’s shoulders.“Disgustin’.” Eddie said slowly, dragging every syllable.His captain’s features softened a fraction. In any other man, it might have been doubt over the confidence of his plan. Here, it formed concern, worry that he’d overstepped into a territory even Edward Jones would not wander.“I’ve always wanted a night like this with you.” Andy admitted, leaving his half-finished whisky in favour of sliding a second arm around Eddie’s waist, “Ever since we met.”The captain’s hands ran over his love’s back, kneading the muscles there, slowly dragging across his spine. All while his eyes focused solely on Hillbilly’s, never wavering, watching intimately as those stern features melted to exposed adoration. Fragile and hanging on every muttered word, formerly lustful attention turned gentle and longing.Confessional had been called and Eddie’s entire being hung solely on the gaze reaching deeply into his own. Those two blue eyes suddenly alight with the reflections of bottled glass, sheltered from the harsh red lampshades. Their foreheads touched, pressed closer still.They might as well have been the only pair in the entire room.“I want-” Ack Ack explained, his lips close enough to brush his company’s, “To be with you, just like this, where everyone can see.”Intimately, and unapologetically. He need not recite the full saga, Eddie understood. It had his heart swelling, straining with pride at being a prize worth showing off. No, more – Somebody worth loving in the way their peers loved. Company worth dancing with, worth serving with, worth drinking with. Worth holding close. Kissing and hugging and running fingers through tangled hair.Hillbilly was shaking his head. Painfully slowly, every motion. He wasn’t disagreeing at all.“Andy,” His hands found those blond locks, running into them as his palms ran over those handsome cheeks, “Y’ know nothin’ would make me feel more special.”Andy had the confidence to huff, released through a toothy, open mouthed grin. Confidence born from certainty, knowing they shared the desires that mattered. Satisfaction ebbed from their pores, lips pushed together to share a short but pressing kiss.Then strong hands found Eddie’s ass and his grunt tore them apart. A deep, guttural sound on the taller man’s part, telling how impressed he was. Impressed that his captain had the nerve to be so rowdy after such a soft statement, a noise of amusement at his immaturity.Hillbilly snatched up that delicious scotch, discarded in Andy’s unfinished glass. He tipped his head back once more.Their next kiss was passionate. It tasted of excellent whisky.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Metal bars never felt so good beneath a man’s palm.He’d always assumed, pessimistically, that if he ever felt iron bite his fingers, it’d be because he got caught. Read the wrong signals, flirted with the wrong marine. Got too handsy too quickly and received a fist across the jaw.That was assuming it was Eddie who’d made some misstep. Stupidity did run in families like his.It remained unlikely. Something a little more cliché would fit better to reality, to his experience and cautious nature. A third-party bursting through the wrong door or an MP happening to squint down a dark alley. Wrong place, wrong time, that would be the fitting curtain call.If said third party or MP could catch Lieutenant Jones when he ran, of course. He was a tall man and, occasionally, a lucky one.Whatever fantastical chase and sobering night in a cell he could imagine, pressing his palm to cold, unsympathetic metal was an image he had grown familiar with. The key would be thrown away and he’d rest his head against the bars, knowing this was it. ‘It’ being exactly what his daddy had prophesised for him. The end of all he stubbornly clung to, regardless of the dangers.It would be where he deserved to be.Instead, the metal beneath his hands was a bedframe. The forehead he pressed to it sweaty and hot, sliding over the iron as a slow, drawn out groan was pulled from his gut. Up this throat, damp like all his skin, and out into their little rented room. His half-lidded eyes were open only because he couldn’t stand not to look, to continue his motions without gazing downward.Two equally tired eyes stared back, exhausted by satisfaction and overindulgence rather than hardship or labour.Andy looked up at him with parted lips and beads of sweat on his forehead. His hair was askew against the bedframe, his skull meeting warm iron, the pillow supporting his back sliding down under his weight. Expert attention was given to his breath, each fall of his chest a long exhale in time with his thrusts. His hips rolled to meet the bend of Eddie’s legs, pushing his cock deeper into his ass in a slow, purposeful rhythm.Nothing felt better than taking their time.The lieutenant knew he wasn’t very good at it, his own gasps shuddering and overwhelmed. Gentleness was a sensation he’d had to get used to, intimidating him more than any choking grip on his neck or unlubricated thrust ever could.It used to scare him, the intimacy they shared.Nowadays, his eagerness to fuck hard came only from his own impatience. A personal desire, left over from years of cumming hard to deep, rough thrusts inside him.His talented captain wasn’t above that. He had simply mastered other ways of making his lover come apart beneath him.Or on top of him, in this case, his strong hands gripping Hillbilly’s waist on both sides. Fingers pressing into the skin, ignoring the scar that reached beneath a few of them. Ack Ack’s hold was firm and unafraid of causing a little pain. The man riding him appreciated that. Nothing would hurt him more than being treated like a fragile, wounded veteran.“Mnn-” Andy’s grunt rattled his chest, punctuated by heavy panting. He had to catch his breath, wet his lips, tear his eyes from where he watched his cock slide in and out of Eddie’s eager hole. “Wait.”That grip on the lieutenant’s waist intensified, short nails digging into the skin. Its receiver hissed, coming to a shuddering halt in his motions. A droplet fell from his curls where he bent over the reclining figure below, both hands clutching the top bar of the headboard. It took obedient and military restraint to keep himself still. He wanted to fuck himself to a tipsy orgasm this morning and not expend the energy asking whether Andy approved.The blond’s cock had slid almost entirely from inside him where he held himself up, only the head still pushed past his ring of muscle. It was held there tightly, the captain’s arm threading between their bodies to take his own length in hand. His fingers moved back and forth slowly, massaging the skin, stroking himself while Eddie was forced to make do with only an inch of him.Ack Ack hummed contently. He loved the view.Hillbilly wasn’t so keen, mouth open as gasps for air escaped him. His thighs threatened to buckle, pressured by the strain of his position and the desperation of his arousal. The mattress shuddered slightly where his knees trembled. That warm hand that remained on his waist made sure he stayed just there, iron bedframe in his grip and Andy’s cock teasing his hole. His dick was left ignored, even on his own part. He couldn’t think past the hot metal against his forehead and the beautiful sight beneath him.The endurance test was worth passing to see Ack Ack’s pause, the slow sigh he released. A barely stifled moan of delight, the smile on his lips warmed with the overindulgence of the night before. A night of dancing and cards had left whisky and hedonism in their veins. He was taking his sweet time. Every moment spent stroking his length between Eddie’s thighs, watching his lieutenant’s hole flex unconsciously around him, was worth savouring.Hillbilly felt the hold on his waist pull. Down, it commanded, and slowly. He obliged.He got to watch Andy tip his head back, skull knocking the bedframe as he let out a loud, shuddering groan. Trembling as his lover’s thighs did, buttocks clenching and tightening the grip on Ack Ack’s cock. Each inch slid in painfully slowly, past the tightness that had the captain’s eyes closing and his teeth gritted. His nostrils flared as his hand was crushed beneath Eddie’s body, lowered down onto him. He extracted it quickly, returning his two-handed grip to the lieutenant’s waist. He wanted his length buried to the hilt, all the way to the base. His fingers almost prevented that pleasure.“Fuck-!” Andy all but spat.His thighs gave their own jerking shudder beneath Hillbilly’s, who had to huff out what would be a laugh, were his eyes not shut tight and his expression pained. Amazing how close exquisite pleasure could feel to agony.“You gonna cum inside me?” He forced through his teeth.The grin he received was devilish. He could see it flash in the dawn sunlight as he opened his eyes, warm rays breaking through the broken blind. An aroused, possessive smirk that had him gasping in delight.He loved being wanted so completely, above all else.“I intend to.” Andy breathed.One hand still gripping Eddie’s waist, he brought the other to the man’s nape. Running over sticky skin, up into damp curls. He found a new grip there, a hold he could use to draw his lieutenant away from the bedframe. Away from those prison bars, cold metal christened with warm sweat.The captain pulled Hillbilly down to the bed, into a crushing kiss. Their teeth caught where they moved their lips desperately, running their tongues against each other’s. Eddie resigned himself to falling atop his lover’s chest, fingers curling into the pillow either side of the man’s head. All his weight on Ack Ack’s body, supported and cushioned lovingly above a borrowed mattress.Andy graciously took over the movement to bring them back to action. He’d been ridden so generously; it was only fitting. The hand not still buried in Eddie’s hair reached around and repositioned the lieutenant’s thighs. They were tugged apart with an aggressive jerk, put into their place as the captain grunted. Satisfied, he returned his grip to Hillbilly’s waist.He needed to keep the man where he wanted him.Eddie let out a shameless moan as he felt the thrusting start again, the loudness of it stifled by the lips against his. The fingers in his hair kept them kissing, mouths forced together as Andy’s pushed his cock up into him. His hips bucked quickly, penetrating in short, deep motions. It rattled the bed, the metal bars hitting the wall repeatedly in noisy thuds. Thighs slapped against each other as the captain held his lover in place, jerking upwards into his waiting hole and never slackening his grip for an instant.“That deep enough?” Andy gasped, finally wrenching Eddie’s head away.A string of saliva connected their mouths, Hillbilly’s tongue held out as he panted eagerly. His eyes were hooded, full attention on the man he laid on top of. His temple found the pillow where he lost the strength to hold himself up. He nodded and nodded again, short grunts of pleasure keeping his throat occupied from speaking.Andy let go of his hair. He needed two hands on the man’s hips, leverage to make sure his cock reached as deep as he promised. The thighs either side of his were shaking, knocking against his body. It had him growling, struggling to speak himself. There was a wetness between their stomachs, Eddie’s neglected length aching and leaking in the heat between their skin.“Fuck, Andy-!” The lieutenant sobbed, teeth clenched as he choked out some semblance of words, “Please-!”He bit down on the soft skin as Ack Ack’s collar. It had the man below arching his back, letting out his own cry – a brief shout of “Fuck, Eddie-!” – as his hips spluttered and stilled. His grip pressed them together painfully, forcing his cock up and Hillbilly’s ass down, burying his length deep inside until he was finished.He felt Eddie’s muscles clench under his fingers, the way his hole tightened around him. All the way up his spine and over his limbs, the tall marine was shaking. Tremors that had tiny, rapid gasps for air wracking his chest, desperate to breathe and choked by his own moans.Andy didn’t need to open his eyes, rolled back into his head, as he settled back against the mattress. He could feel everything well enough. There nothing quite like emptying his cum inside his former lieutenant.“Eddie…” He whispered, “Eddie…”A quiet whimper was what he got in response, a small whine to mark he had been heard.The strong hands the captain had around the man’s hips slackened. They petted the skin there, running up over a shuddering waist, raked lovingly over the hardened scars he found. Massaging damp muscle, caressing every reachable inch of that handsome body.Then, after a moment of reprieve, Ack Ack hoisted his lieutenant upwards.Hillbilly scrambled to get a hold of the bedframe bars again, clammy finger slipping against the metal. The moan that came through his teeth was strangled, choking where he felt Andy’s cock slide out of him. A quiet but satisfying pop followed its removal, the blond’s softening length falling against his stomach. Pale beads dripped onto flushed skin below, seeping from the lieutenant’s hole.Eddie was all but dragged up onto his knees, thighs against Ack Ack’s arms and squarely sitting on his chest. His ass rested above his stomach and two firm hands came to meet the strong muscles, squeezing his buttocks as Hillbilly panted for air. His forehead rested on the top bar of the bedframe again. His eyes were tightly shut.For once, Andy didn’t tease him. His tongue only briefly brushed the head of his lieutenant’s hard cock before he took it in his mouth, bobbing his head down as far as he could reach. He used his grip on the man’s ass to tug him closer, perfectly positioned so he could fuck the blond’s mouth.Feeling his stiff length hit the back of his captain’s throat had Hillbilly sniffing back a sob.Still a little drunk and definitely very overwhelmed, he pressed his teeth to his hand. Lips firmly shut against his skin and his weight on the metal frame, bars clutched in his fists hard enough to snap.The delighted hum he heard his captain give vibrated around his cock, that talented mouth of his moving back and forth at a rapid pace. He wanted Eddie to cum as much as Eddie himself did, and he was willing to work for it. Where drops of cum had continued falling from Hillbilly’s ass, Andy slid two fingers inside him. He must have noticed the shaky whimper, a pleasurable noise cut short of a moan by the lieutenant’s dedication to staying quiet.The blond was skilled enough to know where to push inside his lover. He massaged exactly where he knew he should, fucking Eddie on his fingers while he sucked his cock, keeping his smile at bay. He recognised the jerk of the man’s hips and shift of his weight, the way his nostrils flared as he inhaled sharply.Hillbilly didn’t shout his love’s name, but it was all he could think about. It repeated over and over and over again behind his closed eyes.Andy made damn sure he pushed his face forward the moment he heard that strangled sob, forcing the head of his lieutenant’s cock as far down this throat as he could. Ack Ack fought back his gag, coughing only once as warm cum filled him mouth. His chest jerked briefly, then he regained control, eyes slipping shut as he relished the sensations. The sensitive skin of Hillbilly’s dick, the twitch of his length as he emptied himself in the heat of the blond’s mouth.Every bit of it satisfied the captain, had him humming with a happy sigh. He swallowed thickly and relished the taste.His fingers retreated carefully, without the hurry he’d taken with his own cock. His hand was slick and his stomach splattered with pale droplets of his own cum. It dribbled down Eddie’s thighs, too, leaving him an exquisite mess.Climbing down those bedframe prison bars, Hillbilly lowered himself back towards the mattress and crumpled atop his love. He laid his weight on Andy, knowing he could take it. Their lengths met, soft and warm skin pressed together in that overly intimate way. Sweat kept them stuck together, beading on every part of their bodies from the effort.Definitely a little drunk after last night; sober enough that it didn’t detriment this morning’s activities.Exhausted limbs got to work shortly, strength returning to both men even as their breathing remained heavy. Eddie wrapped an arm around Andy’s waist, holding him tight. Likewise, Andy slid a hand under Eddie and brought gentle fingers up to his hair.“You alright?” He asked.First, he got a nod. Then its giver realised that wasn’t enough and spoke.“Yes.” Hillbilly said firmly. “God, yes.”His hand retracted from its hold briefly, to hastily wipe his eyes and sniff, before it returned to Ack Ack’s waist. They sat like that, legs tangled against damp bedsheets. The rented room was cosy and the single bed familiar. They’d had to squeeze into many a one-man cot like this. Had to learn to fuck on them too, which was a real challenge for the inexperienced queer. Those things squeaked.Apparently, they hadn’t been educated thoroughly enough. Both men jolted onto their elbows as a loud banging slammed against their door, a stranger’s fist beating four times for their attention.“Keep it down, boys!” Echoed from the hallway, barely muffled by the peeling bedroom walls.Tension remained in both marines’ bodies, every muscle stiff and ready to dive from the scene of the crime. Andy’s hand had grabbed his love’s nape protectively, Eddie’s hand flat against the other man’s chest as if to hold him fearfully still. Their wide eyes glanced each other’s way, meeting in a moment of withheld panic and fractured daylight.The door didn’t burst open. Nobody came to drag them apart.This wasn’t some marine billet in the tropics. This was a South End rooming house in Boston.They’d forgotten that. Or perhaps they’d never internalised it in the first place. Safety had always been a foreign concept, as indistinguishable as any pacific island’s name or Japanese battle cry.Certain the footsteps had disappeared down the hallway, the two officers’ lips began to curl. Their grins split their faces, their laughter falling from their lips as relieved chuckles. Breathless and watery, their fear clinging to the sound and likening it to sobbing.It subsided to real laughter eventually, as Andy pulled Eddie back on top of him and wrapped his arms tightly around his waist. They tugged the little table between the beds closer.From its surface, they pulled two cigarettes and enjoyed them in a comfortable silence, catching their breath on the fine tobacco. It should mark the end of their time reclining, lazing away the morning hours. Dawn had long since broken and afternoon would appear sooner than expected.Instead, they spent that day in Boston lying on their single bed - a comically tight fit for two grown men - and talking.Just talking.They wiped their mess on the sheets. They could use the other bed for sleeping if need be. They let their sweat dry and pulled the covers back up over them. It was too warm for it, the summer sun cracking through the blinds to peer suspiciously at them. That didn’t matter, nothing outside did.There was no war out there anymore that required their attention. Anything else was trivial.Topics moved freely, weaving around the fingers that played with blond chest hair and feet that poked at shins teasingly. With his tears all dried up, Eddie returned to his crooked grin. He shamelessly confessed to some unspoken truths; how he loved making love without condoms anymore, how he loved that they could do that together. Andy responded with a laugh and whispered agreement.“I never would’ve asked…” He admitted, his thumb rubbing his lover’s hip. “Though I always wanted to.”His gaze was cast downwards, his smile professionally subdued. He looked to Hillbilly’s ass, outline perfectly visible under the sheets, taught muscles upheld where he had one leg hooked up over Ack Ack’s thighs.There was something equally funny and intimate about the words.Eddie hummed thoughtfully, kissing the man’s ear where their heads laid side by side.“It’s a thing you ask y’ ‘boyfriend’.” He murmured. “If you’re fuckin’ stupid.”The disparagement in the term wasn’t missed. Nor was the judgemental remark, but the captain nodded along to that one. Agreed, it would be stupid, meant in the way Hillbilly meant it.Two young people, thinking they were old enough to commit forever to each other. Ending up waddling over to the nearest doc or corpsman, scratching the front of their pants and wondering where they went wrong. That, or a baby.In their case, it would’ve been the former, however. Had they not dedicated themselves to each other exclusively over the duration of their all-expenses paid holiday, curtesy of Uncle Sam. Exactly like boyfriends, in everything but name.Rubbing his eyes briefly, Andy reached out to grab the cigarette packet. He caught two fresh smokes between his fingers and brought them back. His hand returned for his lighter.“Will you be my boyfriend?” He asked.Despite the oddity and weight of the question, he didn’t look up from the cigarettes. Both of them between his teeth, sucking hard where he held the flame to the ends.Hillbilly laughed. Open mouthed and rough around the edges like the hick he was.“No.” He said clearly.He took one of the Luckies from Ack Ack’s mouth and placed it in his own. He rolled onto his back as he did, chest rising Heavenwards as he inhaled. Smoke was freed to float up and bother the yellowing ceiling.“Oh?” His captain chuckled. There was no judgement present. “Why’s that?”Confident as he seemed, Eddie had to chew on the question. He considered it as he took another drag, taking the cigarette between his fingers. His arm moved up to support his head, skull against his hand. His elbow scraped the wall in the limited room of the single bed.“’Cause we ain’t like that.” He replied.Andy had already rolled onto his side. His elbow pressed against the pillow and his head was propped up by his hand. Silent and listening. Pressed to Hillbilly’s side, sharing their body heat under the thin sheets.It was good to have their naked chests unadorned with metal tags.Eddie turned to face the man as he spoke. He owed him that. Cigarettes were forgotten where they withered between their lips.“You’re everythin’ t’ me, Andy.” The lieutenant tried, explanation failing to galvanise on his tongue, “More than everythin’. More than any ‘boyfriend’.”A gruff chuckle escaped him. The description stopped there.Sure enough, Hillbilly assumed that his usual simplicity left him without the words to be specific. As his snigger faded, he was left with an emptiness in his throat that no tobacco could cover. A hollow feeling on his tongue and a numbness in his voice and a distinct sense of lacking.There weren’t any words for them, he realised. He didn’t know them because they didn’t exist.He saw the same sensation reflected in Andy’s eyes, smiles slackened for a sobering moment. The sheets shifted, Ack Ack’s hand finding his and intertwining their fingers. A hefty squeeze followed.“I’d make you my husband, if I could.” The captain said.There were truly few things he couldn’t do, but that was indeed one of them.The fabric slid over Eddie’s chest where he inhaled, deeply and instinctively. He held that breath, sweet and wistful beyond belief, savouring the taste. It tumbled from his nose slow and quiet, like he never wanted to let it out.“I’d like that.” He said.It sounded like a confession. Except he could see the priest - the saint, in his opinion – that he was speaking to, clear as the room’s daylight. There was no metal grate separating their faces, sharing a closeness as their heads laid against the pillow.In no church had Eddie ever seen such a dejected looking expression. Not from the painted disciples or empowered preachers, anyway.Yet Andy looked sad, mournful, his smoke leaving ash on the mattress where it burned untouched. His features rested in a way that was familiar, a facial arrangement Hillbilly knew he’d seen recently.In Pemberton Park, no less. When Andy had looked at the young couple there, with their wedding rings and baby boy. The lieutenant hadn’t recognised what could have caused it or even what it truly was at the time.He understood now.“I’m sorry.” Eddie whispered. He couldn’t help himself.This wasn’t entirely his fault, he had to remember that. It was difficult not to name him as a catalyst, however. An instigator, an encouraging force. A part of him always wondered if, unlike his rotten inclinations, his captain might be capable of falling for a woman. Getting married like he wanted, raising a son like he wanted.All those lovely, normal things. All denied him.“You-” His captain said, voice a low and unhappy growl, “-have nothing to be sorry for.”His anger was directed beyond Hillbilly. Pulling them free from the sheets, he lifted his arms and took the man’s head in his hands. Curls threaded between his fingers and cheeks against his palms as he drew close, planting a heavy kiss against his lieutenant’s forehead. It was pressed there, forceful and passionate and weighing a ton.When he pulled back an inch, he looked into his love’s eyes. They shared that sorrowful expression, an unfriendly repetition from when they’d lose a marine and begin longing to bring back the dead. They’d done the same thing in that scenario as they were doing now.Imagining all the things they could never have. A sad and dangerous game.“I love you.” Andy said. He spoke directly to Eddie and Eddie alone, voice clear as he bit the words out intensely. “Completely. Not ‘if’s or ‘but’s, no conditions, nothing.”His breath came out in slow, ragged gusts, his fervour getting the better of him. He pressed their lips together, a brief but passionate kiss before ripping himself away. He needed to see those two blue eyes again.“No matter what.” He said. “I don’t need anything else.”Eddie believed him. God, did he need to believe him. “There’s somewhere we need to stop by.” Andy said.He was squinting through the blinds as he said it. They were straight, he’d fixed them using the pen knife he kept in his bag. Less out of charity and more because, during his initial peering, he’d accidently pulled one side out of its bracket.Eddie had hoisted him up to reach the screw. He’d buried his face against the man’s naked back to hide his sniggering.“Another queer cabaret, is it?” The lieutenant laughed, rubbing a towel between his legs.They’d slithered down the hall when they were certain the coast was clear, dipping inside the building’s communal shower room. There’d been a couple of other guys in there and somehow, that was better. It was just like the Marines, only the smiles were genuine.It was fun to play grab-ass with each other and only hear chuckles from anyone who noticed.“No.” Ack Ack replied softly.Back to the question to the question at hand; their destination, still a mystery to Hillbilly. It couldn’t be another occasion of debauchery since the sun was still in the sky. It was early afternoon; good boys were still up and about.“You’re not going to like it.” The captain added.Tugging those worn jeans up around his hips, Eddie shrugged.“Lead the way.” He said. Andy was right; he didn’t like it.The blond was allowed to drive. He wore that pretty blue shirt that brought out his eyes. His hands spun the wheel and he leant over the dashboard, looking upwards at the storefronts they passed. If he knew where he was going, he wasn’t acting like it.A vague set of directions were steering him across town.Eventually, Ack Ack found what he wanted. Eddie knew because the man sat back against the driver’s seat, easing his foot off the gas. He pulled up against the sidewalk as soon as he found a spot to park in. The engine rattled off and he bit his lip.He got out the car before his passenger could ask where they were.Hillbilly followed him, stepping out into the heat. Circling his pickup, he found that they’d pulled up in front of a hardware store. ‘Jackson’s Tool-shed’ was written in flaking white paint over the door, its background an ugly shade of lime green.The lieutenant’s hands found his hips. He looked to his driver with utter bemusement.“What the Hell we doin’ here?” He asked, gesturing towards the tool shop.Hands in his pockets, Andy was already sauntering back up the way they’d came. He looked over his shoulder as he spoke.“Maybe if you’re good, we can go in there after.” He teased, “I’ll buy you a new screwdriver.”He received an aggressive middle finger in response. He shook his head and laughed. At his side, Eddie quickly reappeared. They matched steps as they paced along the high street, passing store after store. Cars rattled by and they kept that imperative foot-wide gap between them at all times.When Ack Ack finally came to a halt, it was in front of an opticians. The spectacles on display in the window and overhanging sign gave it away. He looked to Hillbilly with an apologetic smile.He didn’t need to explain further.Neither of them had forgotten the disastrous morning in the Haldane family church, though one had been valiantly trying to.To anyone else, Eddie did look angry. And he was, really, an instinctual and gut-wrenching annoyance bubbling away at his stomach. It boiled to a seething rage. His grunt was low and unimpressed. Such a display would have lesser men backing away.Andy stayed. His hands remained in his pockets, shirt sleeves rolled up in the hot weather. His gaze was pleading and his smile stiff. He said nothing.Captain Haldane would not beg for submission to his wishes. Even if he did, it wouldn’t help matters. He could lead a horse to water, but he couldn’t make it drink.(He’d led many a marine to water. Foul, deadly water, unfit for human consumption. And realistically, though he’d never ask; each of those marines would have taken a helmet-full of that poison and swallowed it down at his command.)With a sigh that seemed to rattle every store’s windows, Hillbilly let his head tip back and his eyes look to the sky. Bright blue burned him for a moment as his hands grabbed his belt and adjusted it uncomfortably. His t-shirt was shoved back into jeans respectably where the drive has mussed it. He smoothed down his curls.As he passed his company and grabbed the door handle, he caught his captain open his mouth to speak. Eddie took a moment to raise a finger and stop him. Firmly and angrily and silently, making sure no words escaped the man’s lips. Andy lovingly obliged him, nodding instead.The bell of the optician’s door was louder than any artillery shell. Eddie didn’t know what lie Andy told to allow him into the optician’s backroom, and he didn’t want to know.Something about a wounded veteran needing his comrade’s guiding hand. Something regarding a backcountry man’s simplicity, the clinical diagnosis of the word. Either worked.Either fit.Whatever lie – or unfortunate truth – it was, Hillbilly was eternally grateful for its telling. Even if he couldn’t ask Ack Ack to hold his hand like he desperately wanted to and never would, his presence alone was comforting. He stood by the wall with those casually rolled up sleeves and his hands folded neatly over his chest.His smile was proud and soothing. He nodded when Eddie glanced his way.There was unmistakable fear in the lieutenant’s eyes as he sat on that backroom’s leather chair, the optometrist standing close by and fiddling with the lenses on his device. A beast of a thing, all black metal and Bakelite dials. The eye holes, as Hillbilly might anxiously call them, were beady little things. They stared back at him as he willed them to be kept away.A ‘refractor’, it was called. It was held up by a gangly metal arm, swung carefully around to place it in front of Eddie’s face.It reminded him of a bunker slit. Only he wasn’t spotting Japs amongst the brush and waiting to catch a bullet in the eye.He was looking at letters lined up along the far wall. If he adjusted his head slightly and glanced down, he could see the leg of Andy’s slacks by the door.“Could you read the letters back to me, Mr. Jones?” The optician asked.Flexing the grip he’d been boring into the chair’s armrests, Hillbilly swallowed. Drawing in a slow breath, he spoke.“K.” He began. It was over quickly.It left Eddie rubbing his eyes and running his fingers over his eyebrows. Hateful, every moment. Embarrassing and awful.His stupid, illiterate, hick mind had sputtered and floored itself by the second line of letters. The lenses had squeaked, unable to change quick enough to keep up with his idiocy. Never mind that he’d been able to read far better after a minor adjustment of a single dial; in his head, this was a test and he’d failed spectacularly.That mean looking refractor had set his teeth on edge. He’d forgotten what that felt like after setting foot back home.“You’re far-sighted, Mr. Jones.” The optician was telling him.His patient was listening intently, though his eyes were directed elsewhere. They were lost to the floor, fixed on the office baseboard and wider than they should be. The words were delayed by the thick denial they were cutting through, felling pillar after pillar that had upheld the marine’s firm belief that he was just fucking stupid.There was no cure for that.“You’ll need glasses to read and write comfortably.” The optician was saying, scribbling his deductions against a piece of paper, “These lenses should fix the issue.”The sheet was held out for his patient.Eddie lifted his head. He took the optician’s verdict as he would diagnosis of an uncurable disease, leaving him with six months to live. His fingers clasped the paper tightly, drawing it close and holding it in both hands for a moment. He looked down at the blurry writing and nodded.“Thanks, doc.” He said, tapping the note against his palm.It stung.During Andy’s quiet observation, silent and steadfast where he leant against the wall, he mulled over which he thought was killing Eddie more; admitting that he needed help or admitting that his strong, infallible body was beginning to fail him. The former required no deeper thought, it was as ingrained in the man as the ink across his chest. The latter took graver consideration; a terrible change that was inevitable for all people as it was for Hillbilly.A man who’d relied so long on simply being the strongest, the tallest, the one who could carry twice as much and complain twice as little. Fierce and proud and a head above the rest, literally, even if the person inside felt none of those things. Every problem he’d ever faced, he’d brute forced his way through, with a grit and determination that could inspire any marine, soldier, or sailor.A beast of burden, that was beginning to grow weary by no fault of its own.Andy wondered if that’s what Eddie would call it. He never liked asking Eddie to describe himself. It was truly enraging, an action akin to sticking his hand in a bear trap and wondering why he had to hold back howls of pain. Ack Ack knew what his lieutenant thought of himself and he hated it.Led back to the front of the store, an assistant began showing Hillbilly all the available frames he could enjoy. Drawer after drawer was pulled back, showing lenses and spectacles and everything the man despised. He pointed to the first, cheap, unintrusive pair of round wire frames and said no more about it.Even in the bright of daylight, Andy dared place a hand on the small of his back. The optometrist had remained in the backroom office and the young lady serving them couldn’t see over the counter. In that relative safety, Ack Ack received only a sideways glance from his love. A warning and a gratitude rolled into one dark stare.Eddie paid for his glasses, tucked away in a neat leather case. His captain didn’t dare offer otherwise. There was a café back in the South End.One with white tablecloths, pretty lace things a lot like in Mrs. Haldane’s dining room. Flowers were left in a glass on their table, despite two men pulling out the chairs. By the window for all the world to see, it should have felt dangerous. Something told them the young women occupying all the other seats, coupled in pairs and only half of them in dresses, wouldn’t mind too much.“You should try them on.” Andy said. He’d been saying it the entire drive back.Every instance, every repeat, had received the same response. A cold, hard glare, occasionally accompanied by a grunt or a sharp ‘no’.Eddie paused where he’d been enjoying his eggs. He returned that same look for a second. That beautiful, charming grin around slight stubble shone back at him in the summer sunshine, cast through elegant café windows.Tossing his fork back onto the plate with a clatter, Hillbilly relented. He shoved a hand into his jeans pocket and came back with that leather case. He opened it up in his lap and stopped. Two circular lenses stared up at him, reflecting the same light that had cast such a romantic hue across his recent days. On the spectacles, the rays flashed angrily. They hurt his eyes.A glance back up at Ack Ack found that smile still present. Everlasting, always patient. The captain reached across the table and squeezed his arm briefly. When he retreated, Eddie unfolded the glasses in his fingers. Awkwardly, he brought them up to his eyes, pulling them over his ears.He couldn’t meet Andy’s gaze and watched the man’s tea instead. The whole pot had been left on the table for them and he wholeheartedly believed the blond could finish it. He loved his tea, more so than he’d ever enjoyed coffee. The latter simply served a purpose in the dark of the jungle and murky nights of torrential rain.Across the table, Ack Ack had lent his elbow against the lace. His chin was propped up on his hand and his foolish grin accompanied by a noticeable blush. With no need to hide his reaction here, he refused to resist it and his breathless huff was one of absolute delight. More importantly, Hillbilly needed to see exactly how he felt about the appearance presented before him.Where one of them assumed his tall stature and hill country appearance, rough around the edges and rougher still in his mannerisms, was something merely tolerated; the other would disagree. Beyond the reasons he’d recite regarding Eddie’s gallant character and beautiful soul, Andy would happily admit he’d found the man physically attractive since they’d first locked eyes. 'Love at first sight was a stretch; desire to bend the then-Sergeant over the nearest billet cot at first sight was not.Now, the captain was presented with this. His handsome lieutenant, hair freshly trimmed in tidy curls, looking particularly scholarly with his shiny new spectacles.“I love them.” Andy whispered.He took Eddie’s hand in his and rested their arms against the table. The squeeze he gave drove the honesty home.Even if Hillbilly still wouldn’t look him in the eye, the tiny smile he gave made it clear he’d heard.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
On a metal barred bed in the South End of Boston, Eddie placed a pile of pillows.One, then two, totaling four with those already there. He built carefully, gentle hands laying the foundations of a foxhole. To serve and protect the man watching him, perched on at the other end of the mattress, whom Hillbilly sent the occasional glance. Looking for approval, naturally, and receiving gracious nods.The bags under Andy’s eyes had grown significantly. He couldn’t sleep properly without cushioning his head just-so. Without his fortress of pillows, he was vulnerable to the legacy of his wounds.At least he never had nightmares. His dreams were dark and frightfully calm, as he described them.He hadn’t dreamt of anything since Peleliu. Not once.“It took some getting used to.” He’d admitted, during their discussion on sleep and his lack thereof. “There was nothing worse than being unable to glimpse your face, even when I slept.”Despite their time together, they still had so much to catch up on. Every moment revealed new injuries their separation had inflicted. Every bruise needed its own remedy.Ack Ack never complained and he chose cuddling on a single shared pillow over supporting himself. (Literally and metaphorically.) But, like always, Eddie caught on. He’d rattled the door on his way out, snarling angrily when he realised how tired Andy had become. The wood had clattered and it echoed the sting in Hillbilly’s chest.He should have known better. He should’ve seen this coming; he should’ve stopped it altogether. Paid attention, as marines were taught to. Ears up, eyes out, always alert. He’d slept in that foxhole of pillows back in Lawrence, keeping both him and Andy at the perfect angle for slumber. He should have looked to the Haldane household’s example.He was falling back into old habits. These weren’t the sunny streets of Melbourne.They weren’t those men anymore.When he returned to their boarding room, Eddie’s anger was gone. Evaporated on his skin, leaving the heat of shame in its wake. He should have known better.Andy was sat miserably on the bed. He moved to stand, to take his love in his arms and apologise for not speaking up sooner. The gesture was cut short by a harsh glare sent his way. ‘Stay’, it said, and the captain obeyed. He watched Hillbilly shut the door with a nudge of his hip, arms occupied by the pillows he’d requested from the owners.They were the bricks he would build Andy a comfortable resting place with. They felt about as heavy.“Looks perfect.” Ack Ack said when he was finished.His smile cut through the exhaustion in his eyes. It was sent upwards as Eddie approached, standing over him where he sat on their shared bed. Two large hands ran over the blond’s cheeks, drawing lovingly against his skin. Those fingers reached his hair, thumb brushing tentatively over the scar above his temple.Andy let him. He closed his eyes guilty and hummed.Such an ugly addition didn’t deserve this kind of awe. Yet Hillbilly touched the wound delicately, bent down to press his lips to the other side of his captain’s forehead. A hard, desperate kiss; the opposite of his soft fingers.“This ain’t gonna work,” The tall man whispered, “If you don’t tell me what you need.”When Ack Ack nodded in reply, it was with pursed lips and crinkled eyes. His smile was watery and forced. Before he could send it upwards again, he found his lieutenant on his knees. Lowered to the floor before him, bowing to his lover, the man he worshipped in every sense of the word.Those gentle hands never left Andy’s skin, drawn down to his neck, thumbs rubbing careful circles against his throat.Eddie wished – where his education and his intellect and his vocabulary failed him – that his body would provide. That the knee he took and the touch he gave and the wide, shining blue of his eyes might suffice. As if he could communicate beyond words, beyond their silent understandings, and bear everything he felt.Love was a dangerous, volatile substance. It spilled often, it caught fire, and it caused many a wreckage.Hillbilly had tried very hard to never ignite what love he held inside him. Once, he’d even claimed he had none of it to hold; many years ago, stretching behind him from ’43. He’d assured several naïve companions that men like him didn’t get to fall in love.Then Andrew Haldane had walked into his life and taken him by the hand. And still, Eddie had refused to set the love he felt alight.It had taken far too long to finally take a lighter in his hand and thumb the wheel. Somewhere on Cape Gloucester, he believed, where ironically no real fire could be found.He’d tossed his zippo onto that emotional gasoline and waited for it to catch. He’d realised it was already burning.He begged, silently, that Andy might see that now. It wasn’t just written across his face; it bled from every part of him.Through tearful and tired eyes, wrongly embarrassed by his condition, the captain recognised it. He always had been smart, capable. A watchful gaze on hostile lines, wherever they had shifted to.Ack Ack nodded again and laughed quietly. A nervous sound, his chuckle mocking himself.For the first time – in his entire life, Eddie suspected – he held something his confidence couldn’t reach. Headstrong in helping others, he’d refused to help himself.Hillbilly was always there to help him. Every request, every order Andy gave his lieutenant from the day they met until the day they died, he would complete. There was nothing he wouldn’t do.Voicing that felt wrong, like it might take the weight from the sentiment. Instead, Eddie settled down fully on his knees. He rested his head in his captain’s lap, at his feet with eyes closed. Whatever misplaced shame the man had, he wouldn’t watch. He’d leave Andy in peace; those hands in his curls would let him know if he was needed.After a heavy sigh, Ack Ack sniffed. He nodded and wiped his nose. His gaze found the ceiling and he blinked away the embarrassment he’d masterfully supressed.Bending over, he planted a kiss to the head in his lap.A gift greater than God could give. Hillbilly knew he’d chosen to kneel at the right altar. They drove down to Cape Cod, or near enough. A beach that wasn’t too popular, the weekend already rolling in. Everybody was itching to enjoy the sunshine, the first spring without war riding on the breeze.Andy drove. He prepared for the journey extensively, going so far as to charm the young lady serving breakfast to get hold of a basket. A wicker holdall and a borrowed bedsheet later, and they were off on their trip. A short daytrip, the captain had been pointedly reminded, though it didn’t faze him.When Andrew Haldane had a plan in mind, that plan would come to fruition. He’d make sure of it.For Eddie, it felt a lot like being taken out behind the woodshed and shot. Less dramatic, perhaps, but the same sentiment. Old dog that needed putting down, a mercy kill. He was being led towards a difficult conversation.He let Ack Ack take the wheel and guide him by the hand wherever they needed to go. Woof.They ended up on the beach. Maybe they could play fetch with a piece of driftwood.The sun was shining yellow and they sat on their makeshift picnic blanket. Rummaging in the basket, Andy passed over a Coca-Cola before taking another for himself. He popped both caps. As Hillbilly sipped the lukewarm soda, he realised why this felt familiar.Melbourne, that was it. They might well have been in Melbourne.Except they weren’t in uniform, there were no planes overhead, and nobody would be calling them back to barracks when evening came. They were blessed, even if their scars claimed otherwise. They weren’t those young men who’d rolled in Australia’s sand, choking out each other’s names while they fucked breathlessly.They weren’t marines anymore. They were veterans and that had Eddie shaking his head.Instead of Andy rutting into him, as roughly as Hillbilly could get him to, they sat and enjoyed their drinks. They both laughed as they clinked their bottles together. Stolen toast from breakfast was shared as their lunch. Andy even pulled out some cookies, hidden until that moment. He’d been very careful to keep that secret addition to himself.Snapping one in half, he reached out and pressed it to Eddie’s lips. The lieutenant dutifully hummed and took it in his mouth. It tasted sweet and crumbled on his tongue.“If Missouri can’t wait,” Andy said strategically, exactly when the other man’s mouth was preoccupied, “Then we can go now. There’s no need to wait around.”Bastard really was his father’s son. With a sigh, Hillbilly turned his eyes towards the sea. The waves rolled in calmly and he grunted around his chewing.“I’ve got enough to get us a house.” Ack Ack continued. He never looked away from his company, gaging the reaction.True, he did have that kind of money. That wasn’t even including his parents, the gifts they might bestow upon their pride and joy. (Nor the inheritance dangling macabrely over the future.)This was about his wages. Former wages.Never enjoying mathematics, Eddie still knew a captain’s pay packet. Thicker than his, to be sure.When the lieutenant sighed, it wasn’t sad. His consideration wasn’t the miserable kind, the guilt that plagued him regarding his own slim earnings. Relying on Andy for the rest of his life sent shudders down his spine, disturbing images flashing behind his eyes. Ones with him cooking pathetic dinners every night and greeting a disgruntled lover when he came home from work. A twisted kind of American Dream, where Eddie was some equally mutated kind of housewife. If he could put it into pictures, he could have his daddy wailing.Ack Ack waited patiently. He knew what lurked in his lieutenant’s thoughts; it was why he’d driven them out here. To the peace of an ocean all theirs, unsullied by battleships on the horizon.Hillbilly shook his head. “We got time.”He turned and smiled Andy’s way. A smile soft and crooked and content. It erupted a grin across the captain’s features and he beamed.“Yeah?”Eddie nodded. “Yeah.”They held hands against their blanket. When Ack Ack picked up a cookie for himself, Hillbilly quickly lent in to capture his lips. The half-displeased, half-thrilled sound he made was worth the cruelty. The treat was forgotten in his fingers, the captain preoccupied with sliding his tongue against his company’s.There was a string of spit caught between them as Eddie pulled back. Just enough to open his eyes and enjoy Andy’s features, the sunlight flashing on his hair. It turned the dirty-blond to brass.“Think you should do what you told y’ folks you would.” The lieutenant murmured.It might have held more weight, were Ack Ack not distracted. He’d craftily brought the cookie between them, attempting to move unnoticed. He nibbled on it guilty. He did love his snacks.Hillbilly’s rough grunt was annoyed and fond. He pulled away and sat back on his hands, using distance as a punishment. He heard a childish giggle and felt a kiss placed to his cheek. He brushed away the crumbs it left behind.“Living in Boston?” Andy mused, adjusting himself on the fabric. He scooted over so he could lay down, resting his head in Eddie’s lap. “They’d like that. Close to home and all.”While not particularly serious, something about his tone let Hillbilly know that wasn’t preferred. He was happy – thrilled, even, that his captain didn’t have parents who hated their son’s guts. It was refreshing and comforting and induced a little jealousy at times. (A lot of times when he was in the Haldanes’ collective presence.)Yet some things simply wouldn’t change. No family could fully embrace a son who chose to be queer.Chose in the lifestyle sense. Eddie knew he’d never chosen to be uninterested in women, never taken an eyeful of a drunken sailor and said ‘Yep, this is the sex I want to be attracted to’.But he chose to embrace it. He chose to risk it ruining him. He chose not to pretend.Andy could pretend, if he wanted. He had enough to lose.He could have Pemberton Park; a rosy-cheeked, apple pie house, with an unassuming wife who he kept unsuspicious. Whatever job he wanted and maybe even a son, if he tried hard enough or looked away at the right times.Instead, he was here. On a sunny beach in Cape Cod, tapping an empty Coca-Cola bottle in his fingers and talking about their future together. Him and a man he’d met during a terrible war, who’d stumbled into his life face first. An uneducated, underprivileged, undeserving first lieutenant who’d move Heaven and Earth to make his captain smile.“There’s jobs ‘round here.” Eddie explained helpfully.He’d give the excuse Andy needed.“Pick of the litter f’ you.” He chuckled, “And the dockyards f’ me.”As he stroked Ack Ack’s hair, carding those locks lovingly through his fingers, he was able to look down at the man’s grin. A rough shove to his stomach reminded Hillbilly they weren’t so far from Australia’s coast. They were still men, older but not weaker, who could do almost everything they’d done before. Give or take a few details.“You really want to hang around sailors that badly, huh?” Andy was asking. “Maybe I should’ve joined the Navy.”God, that made Eddie laugh. Loud and strong, rattling his broad chest in true hillbilly fashion. When he bent over his captain, trapping him in his lap with a fist in his shirt, Eddie growled lovingly.“Shut the fuck up, Andy.” Boston worked.Or rather, the edge of Boston worked. An apartment they found with an acceptable rent, that wasn’t too far out and wasn’t too close in. Technically, it was in Waltham, but neither lived in a big city before so they weren’t versed in petty border disputes. They chalked it down as Boston and simply didn’t mention it to anyone with an obnoxious accent.There was something terrible about it, at first. Eddie drove them through the neighbourhoods, scouting for ‘TO LET’ signs or, if they were in a real pickle, an estate agents. (They didn’t get to that point, thankfully. Hillbilly didn’t think he’d be able to look at all those four-figure digits and refrain from sweating his way through the floorboards.)It wasn’t the first apartment they drove past with the necessary sign. Many a door was noted down on the paper against Andy’s knee, listing addresses where Eddie eased his foot off the pedal. They’d slowly roll by, but never stop.By the afternoon, they’d reached Waltham. They pulled up to the sidewalk by accident, for the purpose of fishing a couple of lukewarm beers out the footwell. Ack Ack popped one open, handed it to Hillbilly, then did the same for his own. They sipped their drinks and sighed, leaning back against the sticky seats. The tedium of civilian life really was smothering.The sunshine reflected off the cast iron fencing and the signpost standing crookedly halfway down the street.It wasn’t the first apartment they’d seen. But when Andy got out the car, stood in front of it, and put his hands on his hips, it may have well of been. The front garden was tiny and malnourished. The porch was cut in half by more metal railings, separating the house it was joined to next door. It looked cramped and dark inside. A real skinny building, two floors and still no room to spare. There was a slim possibility it had a back garden.Right on the city limits. The South End would never be far away.“What do you think?” Andy asked the man who appeared beside him.Eddie folded his arms over his t-shirt and scowled. He thought it looked horrible.“Looks ‘bout right.” He said.He felt the beaming smile that glanced over his cheek. His captain scrunched the notepaper up into a ball. He tossed it over his shoulder and patted Hillbilly on the shoulder. It didn’t rain so much on Peleliu. Not in comparison to Gloucester anyway, the warm puddle of an island barely distinct from the ocean’s depths.Peleliu was all dust. Dry plains that sapped the moisture from their mouths and rocky ground that failed to split under an entrenching tool. Digging went from a chore to hard labour, fit for a prison sentence. Eddie saw the irony in that and took it out on himself, grumbling angrily with ever stomp of his boot. His foot plunged the shovel deeper and levered another chunk of dirt over his shoulder.There was nobody stronger than him, that knowledge kept him going. No man nor marine could stop him with force alone. No fucking pacific landscape could either, and this would prove it.He dug himself a foxhole nestled in those hills. It left him with satisfying blisters on his hands and a groan on his lips as he settled down that evening. The digging was the final call of the day. Theoretically, he could have gotten someone else to do it, but he wasn’t that cruel – or that stupid.He could still hear several boys shovelling as the dark set in. Nobody was stronger than Lieutenant Jones.A red rising sun fell away to a warm night. Dry as ever, Hillbilly’s canteen nestled squarely beside his foot. Where he couldn’t reach it, tempted to chug the contents, but was also protected. You never knew whose wandering hands might be looking for relief.Speaking of relief, a body dragging itself his way broke the quiet. Andy rolled into the foxhole, giving an equally exhausted sigh. He landed with their sides pressed close, his head laid against Eddie’s shoulder. Who sent him a withering look and an arched eyebrow.“Lilliputia.” The captain murmured flatly.Eddie smirked. “Bit late f’ that.” He said.He didn’t need to tap his sidearm to drive the point home. Passwords were there for a reason. He watched Ack Ack set his rifle down, pulling off some of the many straps over his chest. The bare minimum to get comfortable, never his shoulder holster.“You knew it was me.” He chuckled weakly.That was right, Hillbilly did know it was him. He was intimately aware of how his captain crawled, the exact shape of his ass in the dim moonlight. That didn’t translate well to romantic sentiment or combat advice, however.Andy was unfolding his poncho. The movement killed the lieutenant’s reprimand; he felt it die on his tongue as he was subsequently tucked under the fabric. Spread over both of them, secured around their shoulders and reaching down to their outstretched legs. Their gaiters and boots stuck out comically.Observing all this, Eddie gave a single grunt. It begged to be answered.Ack Ack’s lips brushed his ear. His breathing was sluggish, tired beyond belief and weighed down by the day’s trials. His voice was rusty at the edges, strained from barking orders. Deeper, too, a low rumble from his chest. That burden needed unloading and the captain wanted to see it lifted sharpish.“A little privacy.” He muttered. There was zero humour to it.Under his dirty fingers, the buttons of Hillbilly’s pants were already coming free. The second grunt the lieutenant gave was more understanding, a crooked smile taking his lips. He looked down at the face resting against his shoulder. Despite the cracks in Andy’s lips, he still desperately wanted to kiss him, use his tongue as a cure for the dryness.He loved every inch of his captain’s features, come Hell or low water.Adjusting himself against their rocky cushion, Eddie got to work getting his own hand in Ack Ack’s pants. He carefully undid the man’s buttons, knowing there were no replacements if he lost any. He palmed the front of Andy’s frayed underwear, humming at the half hard length he found. Too tired to tease, Hillbilly slid his fingers under the waistband and squeezed his captain’s cock.He received a grateful grunt in response. Soft and a little frantic, followed by a frustrated sigh. The exhale fell from Ack Ack’s nostrils, his eyes slipped shut for a second. He hated how much he needed this, that was clear enough.Eyes darting around the edge of their hole, Hillbilly craned his neck. His lips brushed helmet fabric as he laid a quick kiss. It hurt to know the gesture wouldn’t be felt through the metal.“Don’t worry ‘bout me.” He whispered. “Close y’ eyes.”No argument followed besides a single flicker of Andy’s gaze upwards. God, he must have been exhausted. He kept his hand resting inside of his company’s pants but stopped his motions.When Eddie looked down, all he saw was the poncho. A slope of fabric, hiding everything he longed to see. Maybe that was for the best, the dirt under his fingernails and the sweat on Ack Ack’s skin far from romantic.His hand moved up his captain’s length, his thumb coming to the slit. It was wet and warm, sliding under the pad of his finger. The response was strangled, a small and shuddering exhale from Andy. Hillbilly wouldn’t tease; he moved his hand down to the base, strokes starting a lazy pace. His teeth dug into his lip. He was glad his lover couldn’t see his pained scowl.He wanted to kiss. He wanted to watch. He wanted better than this.This wasn’t about him, though. It was about Ack Ack and if his lieutenant got to enjoy the touch, the sounds, then that should be enough.Eddie gripped Andy’s cock firmly, sliding the burning skin up and down in short, sharp strokes. He knew where the man liked pressure applied, bringing his fingers up and over the head every so often. Spreading the sweat and the precum and making sure this was as good as it could be.The captain shifted, swinging his legs over his company’s. All but sitting in Hillbilly’s lap, the taller of the two could use both hands. (Ack Ack’s had retreated from Eddie’s pants, now running over his chest and fisting in his uniform.) He slid a palm under Andy’s jacket, over the bruises from his webbing, rubbing a thumb over his nipple. It helped immensely, the stifled moan lost to the lieutenant’s shoulder. Ack Ack tactically pressed his lips to the fabric and remained quiet.It was music to Eddie’s ears. Even as he doublechecked the edge of their hole, he felt his smile growing. This wasn’t so bad, after all. He’d forgotten how much he loved hearing his captain gasp under his hands.Rapid pumps made the poncho rustle, Hillbilly jerking Andy’s cock faster as he rolled his nipple between his forefinger and thumb. Pinching hard, a rough pleasure as he heard Ack Ack cuss.A short “Jesus fuck-!” hissed through gritted teeth and nothing more.Eddie didn’t stop his strokes, even as he felt Andy’s cock twitch and warm cum splatter his hand. His motions slowed, running his palm all the way up and over the tip again, spreading that mess across the man’s length. He milked every drop from a shuddering Ack Ack, a damp sigh tickling Hillbilly’s throat where the man tilted his head towards him.It was difficult to glance down, but the lieutenant managed. He wished he hadn’t; he found two hooded eyes gazing up at him. Filled to the brim with sated gratitude.Back then, Eddie had to swallow thickly. He tasted blood in his mouth, biting himself hard to stop from leaning in. He wanted to kiss that tender expression right off his captain’s face. He’d be rough about it, too.“Thanks.” Andy rasped. He swallowed as well, for different reasons.He enjoyed the final, lazy strokes of his softening cock. They were accompanied by that hand on his chest petting gently, rubbing comforting circles against his hip.“You’re so good to me, Eddie.”He watched the words draw Hillbilly’s brow downwards. A deep, painful scowl, tipped with annoyance.“I love you.” He replied, like it was the most obvious explanation.Ack Ack smiled adoringly and kept his thoughts to himself. The ones about love and acts of service, as some might call them. The follow-up debate as to whether his lieutenant could distinguish the two.Eddie had already buttoned up his pants for him. His hand was then wiped on the inside of the poncho, before moving to repeat the gesture on his own fly. Andy tried to stop him sealing himself away, humming his disapproval, but was too slow.“Don’t worry ‘bout me.” Hillbilly repeated sternly.“That’s not fair.” His captain replied.The grunt the taller man gave was sneering, a humour darker than the sky above. He kissed Ack Ack’s helmet again, firmly enough to knock the thing and make sure it was noticed.“Life ain’t fair.” He chuckled.Conveniently for him, Andy was a gentleman. Never the type to shove his hand where it wasn’t requested or tug Eddie’s legs apart to hurry things up. Unlike what Hillbilly might have known before, his captain never simply took what he thought was owed.Andy had never taken anything from him.Ack Ack’s head was growing heavier against his shoulder. He was growing sleepy as he came down from his orgasm, though he valiantly tried to fight it off.“Where’d you learn to give them as good as that?” He asked.Hillbilly laughed softly and shuffled down against the dirt. He cradled his lover close, strong arms wrapped around his waist. He’d take first watch tonight.“Some Dutchman back in Mingo County.” He joked. It wasn’t a lie and he huffed at the memory. “He had some real helpful pointers.”Fearing a follow-up conversation he couldn’t handle – and would distract his captain from sleeping – Eddie grasped blindly for a different tone.“They don’t exactly teach ‘em in school.” He added.He omitted how little of school he remembered. How little of it he ever attended. Those were details unneeded.“No, they don’t.” Andy replied casually. His voice was soft in the quiet din.His eyes were slipping shut. His helmet dug uncomfortably into Hillbilly’s collar and not once did he complain. He’d take a helmet smack to the fucking chin and keep silent tonight. His captain needed his sleep.“I want to be a teacher someday.” Ack Ack mumbled.Exhaling a stifled laugh, Eddie shook his head. The fondest, most crooked grin curled his lips.“Teachin’ handjobs?” He asked.Over the edge of their foxhole, he could glimpse other helmets pressed close. Men lying atop each other, cuddling together. Anything for warmth that wasn’t a blistering sun, touch that didn’t come with the promise of pain.They looked just like him and his captain did. Tucked away and quiet in the dark.“History, actually.” Andy’s words rode on his exhale, sliding to nothing as he drifted off, “It’s the only career I’ve ever wanted...”The confession hung sadly in the moonlight. Hillbilly was left to watch it dangle, gaze moving up to the stars he’d become familiar with. Sleeping outside so often, he knew them better than those of his homeland. Some of their names he remembered, others he couldn’t. All of them provided by Andy, naturally.They were bright tonight. They didn’t suit the bloody ridges beneath them.“I think you’d make a great teacher.” Eddie muttered.He received soft snores in response. Though he hadn’t been heard, they made him happy all the same. Leaning down, he laid another kiss to Andy’s helmet.A final wish for a peaceful sleep. Their apartment was cramped, with outdated floral furniture and a dirty stove. It had a garden, overgrown and narrow. Rather than a pretty white metal table and chairs, it had a wooden bench with the bottom caving in. The iron railings at the front were rusty, the front door squeaked, and the wallpaper was peeling. The rent was cheap but probably not as cheap as it should be.And it was all theirs.Andy had seemed nervous, standing under their shared porch. Suitcase in hand, bag over his shoulder, pickup parked on the curb behind him. He’d gestured a little too enthusiastically, desperate for someone else to get the door. To take the important first step.Eddie wasn’t the sentimental type. Nor the luxury type, nor the anxious type. This wasn’t the big deal one of them clearly felt it was. He’d turned the key and kicked the entrance wide open. Then, shouldering his duffle and guitar case while he checked the empty street, he’d taken Andy’s arm and led him over the threshold.It was perfect. Hillbilly had been sure to say so.He’d known exactly how perfect when he looked out their front window that afternoon, listening to Ack Ack wrestle with the ugly couch; it was scraped up against the wall of the cramped sitting room. When the sunlight flashed off his blue pickup and he watched oblivious strangers pass their front garden, Eddie knew he’d found it.What he wanted, all laid out for him.He hated to acknowledge it, but he’d killed to be here.He’d killed and he’d fought, and he’d choked men to death under his fingers for daring to try the same on him. He’d bled and he’d cried, and he’d gasped himself awake from nightmares that tried to pull him down with them. He’d waited and he’d watched, and he’d kept silent as men like him were thrown out the Corps to raucous laughter. He’d begged and he’d lied, and he’d played the wounded veteran signing the lease to this very place, two marines moving in as ‘temporary’ roommates.He'd given just about everything to be here, things no man should have to give. Things he was ashamed of, hot under his cheeks, that he thought made him unworthy to reach this destination.He felt an arm snake around his waist. They were shielded from the sun and prying eyes by the lace curtains. Andy kissed his neck and squeezed him close. He pulled away when he felt Eddie’s chest hitch and heard the ugly sniff that followed.This was a bigger deal than one of them had anticipated.“Oh, Eddie…” Ack Ack murmured, letting himself trail off.He brought his hand to the man’s neck, kneading the skin. He dragged Hillbilly’s head to his chest, let him take fistfuls of his shirt. The fabric was pulled tight, mirroring the lieutenant’s shoulders. Tense and trembling as he was wracked by sobs, jerking violently where he tried to suppress them.Andy stroked his back and kissed his curls, running his fingers into them and taking a tight grip. Painful, almost, tugging Eddie as close to him as physically possible.It didn’t seem to work. There was no damming these waters.Captain Haldane wasn’t deterred. He took his lover’s hand, squeezed his fingers tightly, and led him from the room. Into hallway, up the narrow stairs that creaked noisily. Past the tiny spare room, the single bathroom, and across the landing.They came to the bedroom at the front of the house. The bed was wooden and lacked the necessary number of pillows, bearing just two. They would rectify that later.Andy led him to the window. He stood behind Eddie and wrapped his arms around his waist. He gently coaxed the man to watch with him.In the street below, cars passed by and rattled the railings. A radio was streaming through someone’s open window. Everything was sunlit and nobody was around to bother them. There wasn’t any need to file into a landing craft or climb over the next ridge.The captain perched his chin on his lover’s shoulder and spoke adoringly into his ear.“All of this?” He whispered, nodding to the street, glancing about the room, “Every bit of it – It’s all ours. And only ours.”His lips found Hillbilly’s cheek and they kissed the tears away. The laugh the lieutenant released, wet from his crying, forced his smile to return. There was nothing better than feeling those lips on his skin, his jaw, fluttering down to his neck. A hot mouth was pressed to his collar, t-shirt nudged aside by Ack Ack’s nose. Those arms around Eddie squeezed protectively.“I’ve never been prouder, you know that?” The captain said. He didn’t wait for an answer to his rhetorical. “This is everything I need, right here.”He wasn’t talking about the apartment. He jostled Hillbilly in his grip, indicating what he was referring to. The movement had his lieutenant sniffing, his chuckle shuddering from his chest. Overwhelmed didn’t cover it.With a crane of his neck, Eddie forced their lips together. He couldn’t handle anymore confessions like that and, gracious as ever, Andy accepted that. They had time for them, a thousand years stretching out across their creaky floorboards and tiny garden.Hillbilly twisted around so they could face each other, his hands cupping Ack Ack’s face. The grip he left there was desperate, pushing his tongue into the man’s mouth in the hope to muffle his sobs. If his chest hiccupped again, his captain politely ignored it. They held each other close and ran themselves breathless, sliding their lips over each other’s until they were panting.Between sharp pulls for air, Andy managed to ask; “Wanna break in our new bed?”Tears forgotten, Eddie managed to growl between their kisses. Boy, did he like the sound of that. Love it, in fact, feeling those strong hands leave his waist. They slid downwards, grabbing his ass in time with him knotting his fingers in blond hair.“Thought you’d never ask.” Hillbilly choked out, leaning back in to take Ack Ack’s lip between his teeth.He bit down lightly, his arousal rattling his chest as he hummed. Eyes closed, enjoying those locks against his palms and the warm skin against his mouth.He received no response. That grip on his ass had tightened painfully.Eddie blinked open his eyes. He carefully retreated, pulling away from their kisses. He glanced behind him first, fearing someone might be peering through the window. Unlikely, since they were on the second floor.When he saw no one watching, he looked back at Andy. He found a dull, sightless gaze, clear blue turned to unseeing grey. No excitement, no lust. A blank slate.Ack Ack’s eye twitched. They might well have been back in Mrs. Haldane’s garden.Around gritted teeth and a sharp inhale, Hillbilly wrenched himself free of his captain’s grip. Just in time; he felt the man’s weight shift as his legs gave out. Luckily, Eddie would always be a big man. Physically tall and strong – hill country strong. And a damn fine marine, fast in his reflexes and dedicated in his learning.He'd learned. He knew better.He caught Andy as his eyes rolled back in his head. Two strong arms caught him as he fell, lowering him gently to the floor. Cradled to Eddie’s shaking chest, his breathing shallow and fearful. There was no amount of training that would make this easy. Everything he’d watched Mr. and Mrs. Haldane do, he’d committed to memory.How his gasps trembled didn’t give that impression.Supporting Ack Ack’s head in the crook of his arm, feeling the man convulse and jerk violently, Hillbilly hung his head and let out a cuss. A single snarl of anger to steel himself, exactly like the battlefield.Then he slid a hand under his captain’s knees and lifted him, bridal style, up into his arms. Nobody was stronger than Lieutenant Jones. He carried Andy to the bed, laying him carefully against the mattress and supporting his head with two pillows. Angled exactly as he knew how, a miniature foxhole to keep him half-upright.Still, Ack Ack shuddered. His twitches were strange to watch. They looked like they hurt, yet between them, he seemed peaceful. As if he were asleep, stabbed briefly in the dark of his dreams, before returning to slumber.With quivering fingers, Eddie stroked his hair. The faintest of touches; he tucked the strands behind his lover’s ears, keeping them out of his eyes. It was all he could think to do.This was a waiting game. Brute force would help no further.Drawing in a deep breath, Hillbilly sank to his knees. His hand remained on the mattress above, gripped tightly around Andy’s wrist. He knew he shouldn’t restrict him but couldn’t resist. He needed to feel him there, have the warmth of his skin to remind him he was still alive.That they were both still alive.Eddie let out the breath he’d been holding. It came up as another sob. Ugly and loud, ripped from his chest where Ack Ack had lovingly soothed it down. Those gentle comforts were nothing without his handsome features, kind words, adoring gaze.The lieutenant cried silently, with his forehead against the edge of the bed. He prayed for the convulsions to stop and offered up anything in the world for them to be painless. Anything, he’d give anything.It wasn’t his bargain to strike. He knew when Andy finally settled, it was none of his doing.Eddie remained on his knees for some time, stroking his thumb over his lover’s wrist. He wondered if he fell asleep himself, leaning on the mattress. Behind his eyelids he saw pecan ice cream, a used car lot, dotted lines on a stamped form, paintings of Appalachia’s hillsides. Everything that had brought him here and nothing he’d ever want to return to.All he could ever want was right here. It felt ungrateful to cry over it.The wrist beneath his fingers shifted. It pulled away, replaced by a weak grip on his hand. Hillbilly’s head shot up, his knees cracking painfully as he scrambled to his feet. He lent over the man on their bed, holding the headboard to support his weight.Those blue eyes blinked open, fighting off their exhaustion. After several deep breaths, Andy spoke.“Where am I?”For a terrible second, Eddie wondered if Ack Ack had forgotten him. With his captain’s tired gaze turned on him, however, he knew otherwise; the blond gave a slanted smile and raised his eyebrows expectantly.He didn’t remember coming upstairs was all.Hillbilly grinned back, panic forgotten. He stroked Ack Ack’s cheek and laughed softly.“You’re at home.” A simple dinner, brought upstairs by Hillbilly, would suffice for tonight. Grits he’d warmed on the grimy stove. The sun had drooped beneath the horizon and their apartment was comfortably warm. The lampshade on the bedside table flickered on.Andy’s protests when Eddie tried to spoon-feed him were light-hearted. The captain accepted one assisted mouthful after promises of no dinner otherwise, shaking his head all the while. (A man of his word, Eddie let him feed himself after that. He knew Andy’s limits and wanted it clear he was teasing.)He took the finished bowls downstairs and came back with two glasses of water, their bags, and today’s newspaper. They sat and sipped their drinks in peaceful silence.Ack Ack kept the two pillows. Eddie assured him he was fine; he’d been sleeping in his pickup for a couple of months, and on many a navy bunk before that. That was the deal struck; he revealed a little about his return stateside and Andy remained propped up by the cushions.The captain settled down against them and hummed. His eyes were closed.After a moment fiddling uncomfortably with his shirt, Eddie took the glasses case from his jeans. He slid his spectacles on.“Mind if I read?” He asked.Andy smiled. “Not at all.”He cracked open an eye. His grin doubled in size when he saw the glasses, neatly sat on Hillbilly’s nose. He was opening out the newspaper, immediately flipping to the Help Wanted section.Ack Ack watched in silence for as long as he could. He also fiddled uncomfortably with his shirt.“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I really wanted tonight to be special.”Eddie, despite every muscle in his body begging him to, didn’t look up from the paper.“You got nothin’ t’ be sorry for.” He said in a gruff tone.He reached out blindly, groping until he found his captain’s hand. He squeezed their fingers together. This was the part Hillbilly had learned the hard way. Go about pretending this was nothing, acting like the ordeal had been easy.Never making Andy feel like a burden.Soon finished with the paper, the lieutenant tossed it onto the nightstand. He folded his glasses gently, placing them with far more care. He shuffled down the bed and rolled over to face his company, head supported by his arm. Ack Ack glanced his way expectantly.“Wakin’ up beside you,” Eddie muttered, “That makes any day special.”He couldn’t meet his company’s eyes and didn’t want to. Such a naïve statement, his former distaste for such declarations nagging at his heels. Honesty couldn’t fully eclipse the feeling, though he was making progress. He hoped someday he could tell his love how he felt without his lip twitching.That hand in his squeezed lovingly.“It’s my favourite part.” Andy whispered back.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Eddie had awoken to his fair share of painful sensations.More than his fair share, though that was relative. And beyond what he’d admit. Self-pity was an ugly trait, for weak men with weaker hearts.There was a long list, running the tolerable into the terrible. Younger siblings tugging at his curls until he slapped them away, drifting into hard blows from his daddy when Sunday came calling. Pranks from bunkmates, or attempts at such – not to be confused with the rough grips of those he’d actually invited into his bed the night before. The cracks, jostles, bangs of any number of combat fields, nothing like fireworks with how they shook the ground. Nasty tree roots digging into his spine or bugs whizzing about his ear, the gut-twisting of a month’s bad rice or the rotting smell that had him heaving. The rain or the cold or the heat, every element God had to offer. A tearing, aching wound in a hospital bed that begged for morphine, blurred with the sweat from a nightmare, the flashing of darkness that sought to kill.Besides the last, he rarely thought of the bad mornings. He’d woken up, hadn’t he? That was what mattered.He couldn’t help but think of them all now, as his eyes slid open. He was lying on his side, no pillow beneath his head. There was sunlight breaking through the lace curtains, splaying pretty patterns over the bedsheets and his skin. Eddie didn’t care for that; he’d gotten ungratefully desensitised to the civilian sight.The view wasn’t what had him frowning, confused by his beautiful awakening. It was the tickle of the shifting sheets, keeping him safe and comfortable from prying eyes. It was the fingers running gently through his curls, leaving joyful trails over his scalp. It was the warm body pressed against his back; the hand laid to rest against his hip. It was the kisses on his neck, fluttering towards his throat as they moved over his jaw, up to his ear.They were warm. They soothed him deeply.A turn of his head and they might reach his lips. He craned his neck to indicate what he wanted, twisting as best he could without rolling over. Those kisses dutifully met his mouth and Hillbilly, never one to lie in, briefly shut his eyes again. A silent command told him he should cover his sight and enjoy the sensations that blessed him. He parted his lips willingly for Andy, letting their tongues slide lazily against one another. Slow, sluggish, and taking every second of time available. They’d earned it.Ack Ack shifted, drawn closer by the hand that reached up and lightly brushed his jaw. It was all the permission he needed, though the kissing gave a pretty clear approval. His thigh slid between his company’s, nudging them apart while he kept his hand in those curls. He wanted to feel them against his palm where their owner turned his head, those good morning kisses making them both hum softly.Eddie felt the man’s free hand running over his hip, his ribs, his thigh. Any skin reachable, adoring every inch. The touch was firm and caressed him affectionately. When his head finally fell back against the mattress, released from their kissing on Andy’s command – a gentle tug of his hair – Hillbilly released a deep sigh.He couldn’t keep his eyes on his captain long, those beautiful features gazing so intensely at him. (Never mind the twisting of his neck to look over his shoulder.) The lieutenant looked to the window instead, giving a second sigh. Shorter, this time, like he couldn’t believe his luck.He couldn’t.Those fingers in his hair turned to gentle petting, parting in curls at their leisure. Andy hummed against his nape.“This is what I want.” He murmured quietly against the skin.His hand moved down from Eddie’s hip, hooking a thumb into the waistband of his underwear. They’d gone to bed in their shirts and boxers; a reminder of their brief scare yesterday that needed to be removed. Ack Ack dragged the clothing down Hillbilly’s thighs, exposing his ass. Those fingers took a handful of the muscle, squeezing carefully, kneading the skin beneath his palm.The lieutenant’s grin was wide and crooked.He could feel the smile against his neck. How Andy could give those words such weight while tugging down his underwear, Eddie would never understand.What he understood was the real meaning. The wider picture, it might be called. His captain wasn’t talking about his body or anything it might provide.Andrew Haldane had handcrafted a thousand ways to say ‘I love you’, and then a thousand more. All to meet the needs of a man who required the reassurance, who for so many years simply wouldn’t believe the old-fashioned phrase.Somewhere between Melbourne and here, Hillbilly had come to terms with that. Pinpointing when was a waste of effort.Andy wanted him completely and every damn time he’d ever said it, it brought the lieutenant another step closer to believing it. All of it.These days, Eddie finally believed him.Those hot kisses returned to his neck and Eddie grunted his approval. His legs parted for the thigh Ack Ack pushed higher, rubbing heatedly between his legs. That grunt turned from content to demanding, Hillbilly craning his neck again to capture Andy’s lips. Laying like a limp sack of shit was never to his liking (nor Andy’s). His hand swiftly reached up and fisted in those blond locks.He wanted to be kissed and he was getting what he wanted this morning.He felt the smile against his own, the chuckle that tickled his lips when they allowed an inch of space to breathe. His captain’s little sighs were full of satisfaction, even as he pressed his chest against his lover’s back. There were limits to how close two bodies could be and it was killing him, it seemed. Shirt to t-shirt, his grip on the lieutenant’s waist could only pull so hard before it was abandoned.An apology peck was left on Eddie’s lips, then Ack Ack turned away. He spat on his hand, ran his tongue over his fingers, drooling over his skin in a rushed motion. Hillbilly had to chuckle, replacing his grip on the man’s hair with a mocking pat to his cheek.“Get ‘em nice ‘n wet for me.” He teased, “I ain’t fuckin’ gettin’ up.”Their bags weren’t too far away. A ten-mile march compared to the warmth of their bed and somehow, the tub of Vaseline wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t like they hadn’t done this before.Andy’s hand moved down to his cock, running his messy fingers over the skin. He hissed softly at the feeling. The flushed head slid tantalizingly between Eddie’s ass cheeks, making the lieutenant sneer. Half amusement, half impatience. Still, Ack Ack returned his fingers to his mouth, sucking and drooling more spit over his hand. He’d never been cruel, always wanting the best for both of them.His compassion wasn’t appreciated and a hard tug to his hair let him know. It pulled a growl from the captain, vibrating in his chest. Hillbilly felt it against his back, giving a grunt of satisfaction in response. Whatever Andy needed to hear to bring his lips back to Eddie’s neck, to show how much his lieutenant enjoyed those possessive sounds.Ack Ack’s knee retreated from between the man’s legs. A rough grip tugged Hillbilly’s thighs apart instead, before those slick fingers were quickly pressed inside him. His grunt turned to a strangled whimper, followed by a huffed gasp. Then, finally, a laugh. He couldn’t believe his luck, grinning from ear to ear as Andy fucked him with his fingers.“We’re not getting up.” The captain corrected. The words were a damp whisper against his lover’s ear. “Not until I’m done with you.”Eddie’s moan was sent towards the window, aimed directly at the Heavens beyond the lace. The slightest shake of his head accompanied it, eyes hooded as he wondered, truly, what he did to deserve this. If it was dragging his ass over those Godforsaken islands, he hoped every other marine was getting fucked as exquisitely as he was right now. Felt like an unfair trade; he’d been handed perfect extasy in return for chump change.But then, he’d been told he was a lucky man once. It could be just that, pure dumb luck. That was more believable to him than being in the Lord’s good graces.Those fingers retreated and the head of Andy’s cock pushed against his hole. The muscle protested and it slipped up between his ass cheeks, making the blond cuss. Hillbilly merely sniggered, twisting his neck to look over his shoulder again. He returned his hand to Ack Ack’s hair – though not as roughly as before – and grinned.“Losin’ y’ touch.” He commented.His captain’s chuckle was radiant. It permeated Eddie’s skin where the man kissed him, open mouthed and hot, lips pressed against the muscle between his nape and shoulder. Sucking gently, no more than a graze of his teeth.“What can I say,” Andy huffed, “I’m getting old, Ed.”That had Hillbilly laughing again. He shook his head fondly.“Shut up and fuck me.” He drawled, tired of this ring around, “And kiss me this time.”Ack Ack hummed his affirmative. “Yes, sir.”Despite the submissive words, his fingers tapped the inside of Eddie’s thigh, a come-hither gesture indicating his command. The taller man dutifully parted his legs, knee bending upwards to give his captain the room he wanted. It created a tent in the sheets, sliding the hem down tantalisingly but keeping the most interesting areas still covered. Like where Andy was running his hand over his slick cock, guiding the tip to Hillbilly’s ass.Ordered or otherwise, Ack Ack dutifully leant in and pressed their lips together. He felt the heat of Eddie’s mouth as he pushed inside him, drawing in a deep breath as he relished the simultaneous sensations. Two perfect pleasures, least of which was his lieutenant’s rumbling moan, stolen from his mouth by the tongue running over his own.Andy’s hips moved without hesitation, burying himself deep and staying exactly there, pressing them together. The closest they could achieve, especially with underwear pulled down around their thighs. His hand no longer needed, the captain caressed his love’s hip, running his palm up over his ribs. Ack Ack wasn’t satisfied, not until he’d cupped Hillbilly’s jaw. Held in his fingers and thumb, angling the man’s face so they could continue kissing. Kept there, in that complete closeness.A test of endurance that took its toll. Eddie was left breathless when he was finally allowed to pull away. He found those intense blue eyes, burning with that adoration he often tried to avoid.Not this morning. Not in this house.He wanted every second of Andy’s attention and he didn’t care if he deserved it.Hillbilly growled, unhappy that he’d been drawn away. He forced their mouths together again, lapping up the surprised grunt from Ack Ack. He swallowed it down as they kissed, groaning against Andy’s tongue as the blond started thrusting. Long, deep rolls of his hips, almost letting himself slip free. The captain would never, not when that perfect heat was offered so enthusiastically. He’d enjoy every inch of his lieutenant to the full, and be grateful for it until the day he died.The mattress creaked beautifully beneath them, matching the moans that rattled their chests. Lazy sounds of a slow pace, each stroke leaving them shuddering.Eventually, Eddie had to pull away from the kissing. Enough to swallow, hard, and let his panting fall freely. Feeling every inch of Andy’s cock, stretching him roughly under those careful thrusts, had him coming apart. Under his captain’s hands, those fingers running possessively over his throat. Treating Hillbilly as something precious and worth savouring.It stirred Eddie’s gut wonderfully, though he couldn’t help his frown. There was a heat under his cheeks as he melted into the bedsheets, leaving them damp with sweat. From nothing more than being fucked slowly. (He’d snort at the idea on any other man, he wouldn’t pretend otherwise.)The arm he had pressed against the mattress fumbled for a grip on his cock, difficult with his knee bent upwards and his other hand still in that blond hair. His fingers were quickly slapped away.Andy shifted, sliding his right arm underneath his love. He replaced his grip on the man’s throat with his right hand; his left moved down to squeeze Hillbilly’s length. The lieutenant found himself caged, two strong arms around him and holding him at his most vulnerable points. Those fingers on his neck caressed him lovingly, never squeezing, the grip on his length starting up firm strokes.The captain kissed his love’s shoulder and hummed, glancing up with dark eyes. He made sure their gazes met, wanting to know if this was wanted.He received trembling gasps, Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobbing beneath his palm. The lieutenant felt like he might break, looked like he might too. All desperate eyes and breathless panting, his thigh shaking where he fought to keep his leg bent.For once, Andy was the one to close his eyes. Overwhelmed by the view, his hips jerking as he struggled to keep the slow pace. He gave two rough thrusts before he collected himself. He left apologetic kisses to Hillbilly’s ear for them, ignoring the approving moan they elicited. He focused his attention on Eddie’s cock instead, hand pumping him easily as he spread the precum down from the head. The skin was hot and flushed, straining as the lieutenant fisted both his hands in the sheets. His grip tightened and he struggled to speak.“Kiss me-!” He hissed.Not trusting his own words, Ack Ack nodded rapidly. His quiet dominance, the silent authority he’d kept throughout the pacific, had evaporated. His breaths were gasping and his smile watery. He pressed their lips together desperately, choking out a moan to match Hillbilly’s.It didn’t take long, not as Andy abandoned the gentle pace, feeling his partner thrusting back against him. Short, hard jerks of his hips and both men were groaning, teeth catching as they fought to push their tongues deeper, kiss harder. The grip on Eddie’s throat became forceful, tugging him closer as Ack Ack pumped the man’s cock with rapid jerks of his fist.The bedframe rattled the wall and all Hillbilly managed was a sobbed “Fuck-!” before his back arched.His cum splattered the sheets and covered his lover’s hand, his violent shudders leaving him yelling. The sound was muffled by his captain’s mouth, falling to a loud moan as Ack Ack swallowed it greedily. Feeling Eddie cum, clenching around him and trembling with pleasure, had Andy’s gut twisting. His thighs spasmed and he emptied himself inside his lieutenant, buried deep and whimpering from the pleasure.Their mouths shared breath and their chests heaved in unison. There was no American flag beyond the windowpane, just sunshine behind lace curtains. There were cars honking.Boston was getting up for work.Carefully, Ack Ack took his hand from Eddie’s neck. He replaced the firm grip with gentle fingers, brushing over the sweaty skin. He was mesmerised, eyes hooded as he drank in the body pressed against his. The damp curls, worn t-shirt, clenched fists. The long legs, bent for his enjoyment and trembling from the effort. Every perfect inch had Andy kissing his lieutenant’s nape in gratitude.“I love you.” He whispered, fighting for air but desperate to speak, “You’re everything to me.”Hillbilly smiled. He didn’t argue.He planted a kiss to Ack Ack’s lips and caressed his jaw with his fingers. Despite the awkward angle, looking over his shoulder, he was happy to lay like this for a while. Warm and sated and together.“I love you too.” He muttered. “This is all I ever need.”Wiping his left hand on the bedsheet, Andy threaded their fingers together. He brought Eddie’s knuckles to his lips and kissed them. With his right, he returning to petting those curls.They both sighed. Their weight shifted, adjusting themselves. Hillbilly’s knee was lowered, his legs no longer needing to be spread. He settled down with Ack Ack at his back, arm draped over his waist and hands held tight. The lieutenant felt the breath against his nape, the lazy kissed laid between the rises of Andy’s chest.Six o’clock had passed. They closed their eyes and went back to sleep. The sunshine cracked open many a window on that Waltham street. Next door was playing from their bountiful record collection and the tunes were crystal clear. Glenn Miller was back in business.They collected everything from the car, anything left lurking under the seat or on the dashboard; Eddie’s dress shoes, Andy’s pen, and a cigarette packet they both laid claim to. In a natural division of work, they would each unpack their own things, although they watched intently as to where they were placed. There was an intimacy in it, previously unavailable in the standard-issue gear of the military and the sheltered detachment of the Haldane home.You could tell a lot about a man by what he kept in his things.It put Eddie in a worse position, though he suspected he’d always been in such. He’d already seen the contents of Andy’s suitcase and bag, having helped him pack the former. (He was overjoyed to see the shirts he’d chosen pulled out again. Hillbilly hung them in the wooden wardrobe with such care.)Some things remained brand-new. He watched Ack Ack open the bathroom medicine cabinet, placing three or four bottles of pills onto the shelves. They fit uncomfortably with the usual items, soap and razors and the like. They’d been hidden in that additional leather bag until now.Eddie didn’t pry, despite having never seen seizure medication before. He’d be sure to scour the back of the bottles later, locked away in the privacy of the toilet. He’d tuck his spectacles into his pocket, unnoticed, next time he went for a piss.His belongings certainly contrasted with Andy’s, something he’d noted before but never vocalised. The holdalls alone spoke volumes. A neat and barely-worn suitcase, metal protecting the corners and the clasps shiny, and a polished doctor’s bag for his lover; a military issue duffle with stained and frayed canvas for himself.His haul was embarrassing because it was small. Standard issue t-shirts and vests, socks, frayed underwear. His two uniforms, concealed away in the closet with his captain’s dress blues. They perched their three peak caps side by side on the top of wardrobe. Two officer, one enlisted. It left them smiling and settled Eddie’s bubbling nerves.There was nothing to be ashamed of. Andy had seen it all before.His busted boots that were probably his grandaddy’s once and his single pair of ancient jeans. His long-avoided spectacles and his marine-stamped boxers and his thick belt. He really did only need a single canvas bag, there was nothing else to show. Besides his guitar case, but he assumed Ack Ack smart enough to know there wasn’t a Tommy gun inside.So far, so boring. No mementos, no luxuries. His captain was the one with the sentimental letters and the pretty suit and the college engraved lighter.The pairs of old socks that tumbled out the bottom of the duffle, shaken aggressively onto the bed by Eddie, revealed the complete lack of any personal effects. (If Andy was disappointed or concerned with the missing sentimentals, he made no indication.)That was, until the Lucky Strike tin fell out as well.The thing rattled where it bounced against the mattress, formerly pressed to the very deepest and darkest depths of the duffle bag. The pit nobody would ever see nor reach a hand into, not without going through Hillbilly first.The green box sat on the bedsheets in silence. Eddie stared blankly down at it. It failed to reflect the sunlight from the window, having been battered beyond such character.He loathed the tin. He feared its contents.A body appeared at his side, a careful hand pressed against the small of his back. Ack Ack had a suit jacket slung over his arm, having been halfway through unpacking his suitcase. He had more to put away and Hillbilly was eager to move on from his worthless ensemble to help the man.He'd ground to a halt, presented with that Luckies tin.Glancing between his solemn lover and the scratched brand logo, Andy carefully reached out towards the bed. A firm grip caught his wrist and he stilled instantly.Broken from his trance, Eddie scooped up the tin. He held it in both hands, as if the tiny box weighed a great deal. He circled their bed, to the side by the window that he had unofficially claimed, and pulled open the bedside cabinet. Besides his spectacles and a tub of Vaseline, he placed the tin.The drawer snapped shut. His captain said nothing.When he turned Ack Ack’s way, Hillbilly found a guarded curiosity. Not wanting to disappoint or turn that interest into concern, he sent Andy a crooked smile. Small, but genuine.It wasn’t worth worrying about and he hoped Andy trusted him on that.The lieutenant scratched his jaw briefly before moving away from the bed. He was watched closely as he took his guitar out from its battered case, greeting it with a far happier reception. Planting his ass on the mattress, Eddie settled the instrument in his lap and strummed a chord. Both men winced at the out of tune strings. Horrible as it sounded, it returned the ease to the bedroom.Hillbilly chuckled.“Think we should stick t’ Glenn Miller f’ now.” Their home was a castle and their lives protected within its walls.Luxury wasn’t accurate. Their bathroom was small and the bathtub had struggled with two sweaty, adult men squeezing into it that morning. Every floorboard creaked and dust cascaded from the ceiling if they used the stairs too enthusiastically. Rugs were frayed, curtains yellowing, and the taps squeaked. The garden would need a lot of work.Luxury wasn’t the word because it wasn’t needed. There were other things this place provided, unspeakably important ones.They finally had an address to put on Andrew’s letter.Penned at their new kitchen table, it was written neatly in the corner, under two names. Eddie loathed that when he saw it, asked to reread the words to check for any error. What mistakes his captain could possibly make were beyond his scope to see.He did it for Andy, as with all things. He found an addition to the return address that he did not appreciate.‘A. Haldane & E. Jones’, followed by their location.It had Hillbilly shaking his head. Unwilling to change it, however, he merely folded the paper and handed it back to its creator.Ack Ack slipped it inside a waiting envelope. On the front, in elegant cursive letters, it spelled out a distant city along with ‘Cpl. Eugene B. Sledge’. As the letter was sealed, Eddie sidled up behind his seated lover. He placed both hands on the man’s shoulders and rubbed them comfortingly.“He made corporal?” The lieutenant asked, a casual topic to alleviate some weight.“As far as I know.” Andy muttered.There was a loss to be mourned, no longer all crushed together in one company. They missed knowing how their boys were doing with a mere glance. They didn’t miss the dirty foxholes and artillery fire.Hillbilly kissed his temple. Below his scar, murmuring against the soft skin.“Do y’ want me t’ post it?”Despite the grateful look sent his way, Ack Ack shook his head.“I’ll send it on the way to the employment office.” He said. “Give you some time to get acquainted with our new home.”“Got pretty damn acquainted with it earlier.” Eddie huffed.The sex, not the seizure. He feared clarifying that; it would kill him to say something stupid and accidently offend.Andy knew what he meant. He grinned childishly and patted Hillbilly’s cheek. Pulling on the suit he’d brought, Andy headed out the following morning.A beige, double-breasted number, such was the fashion. Excellent as he looked in it, the jacket was too hot to be worn and ended up over his arm as he slid on his shoes. A domestic affair that Eddie found worth every second he spent watching, admiring that perfectly knotted tie and neatly tucked in shirt. It stirred a feeling familiar and unfamiliar in his gut, something he might mistake for jealousy.His captain looked so handsome all dressed up. Hillbilly suspected he’d grown desensitised to uniforms over the years and hadn’t ever got the chance to appreciate the man he’d managed to hook himself. (Dress blues incident notwithstanding.)When Ack Ack had stepped into the hallway earlier and asked the cliché question of ‘how do I look?’, he’d received a twisted smirk in reply. A strangled smile that threatened to split his lover’s face in two. The epitome of restraint that was Edward Jones, however, wasn’t deterred and quickly gave a real response.“Handsome.” He said, “Y’ look real handsome.”The crinkle of Andy’s eyes was beyond pleased. The only thing missing was a red tie.He’d kissed his lieutenant goodbye and put on his shoes. Fished from his jeans, Eddie had tossed him the pickup’s keys and wished him good luck.As if he’d fucking need it.Hillbilly was left alone in their apartment, arms folded, gazing at the front door.His skin crawled with an intimate sense of blissful wrongness. That horrific housewife nightmare he’d conjured, with him in some chokingly tight dress cooking for a miserable husband, bit at his heels aggressively. It had him picking at his vest, watching the threads split and come undone under his fingers. This couldn’t be his home and he should never expect Andy to return to him.Yet his it was and expected he did. He didn’t need to be wearing some woman’s apron or crying ‘welcome home, dear!’ to make that reality.The stove provided reassurance. It was filthy and only had one working burner.Eddie would be rectifying that while Andy was gone, dirty sleeveless vest on his back and wrench in hand. This was a man’s work and he felt at peace, laying uncomfortably on his back with his head inside the oven. Every wipe of his hand left another streak of black grease across his brow. He relished the sensation; the filth over his calloused hands and the grunts of exertion from tightening the joins.After an hour, he was finished. He marked his success with a backbreaking sigh, tossing the wrench away, and giving his jeans a heavy tug up his hips. He clambered out of the oven and lit the hobs. They all crackled into flame.Eddie smiled. Andy was home by four o’clock. He seemed pleased with his findings. Eddie sauntered out the kitchen to greet him, wiping his hands on a rag. He’d been scrubbing away at the stove, bringing it back up to marine standard. So not spotless, but well-maintained. (It hadn’t felt like that dreaded housework, what with the effort he’d had to exert to cut through years of grime. The muscles in his arms glistened with sweat and he hoped his lover noticed.)“Any luck?” He grunted.He knew the pleasure weaved into Ack Ack’s smirk, could see it up close as the man approached and planted a greeting kiss to his lips. That grin was infectious, transmitted by the kiss and leaving them both smiling.They moved into the kitchen. Andy gave an impressed hum, nodding appreciatively at their clean stove. He sat down at the small wooden table and loosened his tie. Without being asked, Eddie filled the kettle from the sink. He placed it on the boil before returning to scrub his hands.“There’s a couple of clerk positions, filing and the like.” Ack Ack explained. “They were keen to get me into an interview. They said they’d let me know by Tuesday.”His fingers tapped distractedly against the wood. That unwavering confidence dipped as the sun did, shadowed by a brief passing cloud. The captain inhaled uncomfortably and resigned himself to speak.“It’s good money.” He said. He then forced out the rest. “Three days a week.”Keeping his eyes politely in the bottom of the sink, Hillbilly knew that cold tone. Understood it, after their argument on that dark highway.A part-time position, suited to a wounded veteran. Somewhere in a warm office, enjoyed sitting down and lifting nothing heavier than a paper-bound file. Co-workers just a door away, always checking in for a chat.Tailor-made for a man who might collapse at any moment. Against the stove, the kettle began to bubble.“If I play my cards right, I’ll be starting next week.” Andy continued, pushing ever forward. Pretending he was immune to the shame, that he was unfazed by the distain he felt towards his injury. “Maybe get a promotion in a couple of years.”Still at the sink, Eddie dried his hands. He hummed, frowning, his mind steering him a thousand miles away. Rather than a bloody battlefield, drawing him to silence, he recalled a warm foxhole and conversations therein.“Thought you was gonna be a teacher.” He mused.Glancing over his shoulder, he found Ack Ack where he’d left him, sat at their kitchen table. Except the captain looked away, avoiding his gaze completely. As if Eddie wasn’t supposed to remember that.The misery held in Andy’s eyes was guarded as best he could. Tucked away behind tight lips and tapping fingers, pressed harder than they should be against the wood.Hillbilly felt his scowl deepen, his expression folding into concern.“Y’ didn’t look for any teachin’ jobs?” He asked.He already knew the answer. He’d loved this man long enough to recognise true sadness in his eyes, the attempts his captain made to keep himself above it all. Stepping over his own pains in order to project the strength others needed. This wasn’t disappointment at a lack of education jobs pinned to some noticeboard. It presented the very opposite.There might’ve been several teaching positions on offer; Andy had chosen to ignore them.With the kettle rattling quietly and a towel in his hands, Eddie couldn’t fathom why.A heavy sigh fell from Ack ack’s nose. Master of his own demeanour, he turned his eyes back onto Hillbilly’s. Their gazes met and the captain seemed strong again. Accepting defeat never looked as serene.“Eddie, I can’t be a teacher.”An ultimatum. It struck the room with absolute authority, despite how kindly it was voiced. Those soft tones of Andy’s voice were patient to the last, gently explaining to his stupid lieutenant. All the points had been missed and Hillbilly felt himself scrabbling uselessly to predict the ending to this discussion.His confusion was clear and Ack Ack’s tolerance limitless. Those fingers against the table rubbed distracting circles, little movements that traced the woodgrain. The blond’s eyes drifted to them and there he found the confidence to continue.“Men like us aren’t tolerated around children.” He muttered coldly.Eddie’s inhale was sharp, distinctly visible under his thin vest. His whole chest hitched, reacting to where he’d been struck. A painful, calculated punch, hitting upwards and under his ribs. The force slammed against his heart and left his lips parted, without anything to say. There was no remedy he could conjure and his brow twitched as he wrestled for a rebuttal.None came, slipping through his fingers as his shocked expression crumbled into anguish. The words bit down hard and refused to yield, the scratchy towel rubbing against his palms as he clutched it painfully tight.Their gazes met again, and Hillbilly had loved Ack Ack long enough to see beyond his cool, bland expression.The grief in Andy’s eyes was soul crushing.From his clenched fists, Eddie felt rage ignite under his skin. Through his arms, it boiled under his tattoos, burning under the inked words and worn symbols. His lip twitched and curled, jaw flexing and muscles trembling in anger. At whom, he couldn’t imagine. There was no individual alone responsible for the harsh truth his captain served to them.But truth it was and there could be no violent solution. Some beliefs were strong enough to break apart even the lives of those who rejected them.It wasn’t the belief that had Hillbilly’s wrath bursting in his veins; it was the absolute lie of it.Eddie himself was the average faggot, rotten as they came, and he still stood above that horrible misconception.The beautiful, compassionate man sat before him soared a thousand miles above that. Andrew Haldane could sit beside saints and never appear out of place; he’d worked and he’d bled and he’d pulled every one of his company through the gate of Hell itself. With his bare hands on the bars, holding the doors as if they were nothing. His voice was angelic, his leadership sublime, his courage overflowing. He was everything a person should aspire to achieve, the highest a human being could reach before they tumbled over the threshold into Heaven.The world should be able to see that.Was that lie thick enough to dim to Andrew’s light? He shone brighter than the sun, rising over golden hillsides; there should be nothing that could blind a person to it.Maybe that wasn’t the issue. Otherwise, so many men wouldn’t have devotedly followed Captain Haldane into the depths. No, the world was awed by him. It could overlook that one, unwanted trait.So long as nobody drew attention to it. So long as it wasn’t indulged. So long as it was held without any pride.So long as Eddie wasn’t part of the picture, dragging Andy down with his love and rocketing the risks to deadly.Without a target for his rage, Hillbilly was left consumed by it. His nostrils flared and he turned away from Ack Ack, his growl muffled only by gritted teeth. With an ugly snarl, he punched the kitchen cabinet, rattling the doors ferociously. They trembled and squeaked, coming loose from the hinges as he tore his fist away. The wood was splintered.Against the stove, the kettle shook violently.Like the coward he was, Eddie fled the scene. He stomped into the hallway, ignoring how the boiling water screamed, leaving Andy on his own. Miserable and alone, unsupported in his grief.Hillbilly pretended he didn’t hear a quiet sniff as he retreated up the stairs. In the back garden that evening, sat on the good end of their broken bench, his thumb slid uselessly against his zippo. The skin tore and he cussed, forcing his trembling fingers under control. He lit up eventually and took a hefty drag, his third in as many minutes. The setting sun was warm and yet he shook like he was cold. If asked about it, he’d lie and say he felt a chill.Back to lying already. He’d demanded honesty from Andy and here he was, gearing up to lie again.The dark, sinister hatred creeping over his heart had grown since their earlier conversation. It was tightening its grip, with the force of a vice and fingers like bayonets. Eddie didn’t think he could survive the pressure much longer. That violent rage still bubbled under his skin.He had everything he could ever want, the privilege of dreaming small and knowing no better. Andy, on the other hand, was trading in dreams for dimes at every turn. He was giving up everything to be with a man who, in contrast, was gaining more than he could ever imagine. It crippled Eddie, brought him to his knees, ripping all the progress he’d made to shreds.He felt wretched. The shadows of their perfect apartment were growing stale.His usual half-remedy – smoking until the packet ran dry – kept him from jumping in his pickup and hightailing it out of Boston.He’d be sure to make it further than the welcome sign this time.Andy appeared eventually, bare feet creaking the pitiful amount of decking before the grass. The wood was rotting. He ignored it, bigger things on his mind. He knew there remained an open wound, despite having moved on hours ago himself. He’d already identified the root cause.“Eddie, when I told you I’d like to be a teacher-” He began.“No, no, no-!” Hillbilly hissed, shaking his head, “Y’ said it was the only career you ever wanted. Don’t you fuckin’ tell me it weren’t so.”Hands buried in the pockets of his slacks, Andy could only draw in a deep breath. With his exhale, he let out any hope of pretending. Glossing over the pure resentment Eddie held for himself, trying to minimise the damage, was a waste of both their time.“Yes.” Ack Ack muttered, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”His eyes stared out over the garden, lit by orange hues as the light faded. Lucky for Hillbilly, who had his eyes squeezed shut in an expression of agony he didn’t want seen. The words stung. A physical pain, a bob of his throat as he swallowed down the barbed wire that constricted his chest.“Nothing’s changed.” Andy said peacefully, his tone strangely serene.He left it there, point dangling in the silence. The insects had begun chirping. Eddie took a final drag of his smoke, ground it to ash under his boot heel, then pulled out another. An expectant hand appeared once he’d lit it and dutifully, loyally, he passed the cigarette to his captain. He dragged a new one out for himself.“I couldn’t be a teacher back then, either.” Ack Ack mused, between the swirls of smoke, “I knew that.”He dragged his eyes over Hillbilly, looking down on his brown curls and sleeveless vest and miserable scowl. The blond smiled softly and repeated himself.“I knew that.”Cigarette in his fingers, Eddie sighed and rested his temple against his hand.“You could be one.” He muttered sadly, “If nobody thought t’ question you.”If you didn’t have a questionable roommate, another bachelor and unapologetic faggot. Andy’s laugh was callous as he folded his arms.“How long would that last?” He asked, “Unless I marry some poor woman and take a vow of celibacy, there’ll always be questions.”He hummed, grinning cruelly around the smoke in his teeth. His fingers scratched Hillbilly’s hair, coming back when they were slapped away. The lieutenant submitted to the touch the second time, as Ack Ack knew he would.“I’m but a man, Edward.” He joked, “I have needs.”“Fuck off.”It was a weak retort, Eddie’s slow sigh taking a little of his guilt and self-hatred with it.His captain was right, as ever. This couldn’t be his fault; it wasn’t like he’d turned the man queer. Sometimes it was hard to think of Andy that way, living the same life by design rather than choice.There wasn’t a single occasion Captain Haldane had ever shown interest in women – not during their brief reprieve in Australia nor in any recollection of his past. He was no less of a confirmed bachelor than Eddie.Hillbilly bit his lip and realised this might be on him. Whatever kept him from aligning ‘Andrew Haldane’ and ‘homosexual’ needed to stop. Unfortunately, identifying the cause might unearth some worse issues to tackle.“I remember that conversation.” Andy mused. “It was up in those fucking hills.”No further description required. The casual curse fit perfectly, wasting zero effort on the island’s name. They’d wasted enough on it in person.“I’d had a terrible day…” He continued, “You dug our foxhole.”Finishing his smoke, Ack Ack tossed it to the decking. Without being asked, Hillbilly ground it under his boot heel. (An earlier glance had revealed his captain’s bare feet.)Eddie huffed. “You remember the hand job.”He flicked his own butt to the floor. Under his boot, same treatment as the rest.Rubbing his eyes, Andy sighed. It took his laugh with it, covering the crack in his solemnity.“You told me where you learned how to give them.” He recalled. “A Dutchman in your hometown.”Ah, so he did remember.Hillbilly ran a hand through his hair and sighed. From his nose fell the dregs of that terrible anger, the old and the new. While he kept his contempt for the world’s misconceptions regarding his beloved, he resigned himself to accepting the ignorance. It couldn’t be helped, all that mattered was that the two of them were innocent. For all the faults one of them possessed, they weren’t monsters.Merely men, just like all the rest.In that, they had to support one another. Rest easy knowing they had each other, understood each other. That those nasty beliefs couldn’t penetrate the walls of their lovingly built home, steadfast against such fatal ideas.To build a castle, strong foundations were required. There was none stronger than honesty, Eddie had learned.“What do you want t’ know about him, Andy?” He asked.His tone mimicked his captain’s, for all its rough additions. Serene where his voice drifted over their little garden, ready to be shaped into a pretty haven for them to enjoy. Every weed would need to be pulled, replaced by clean stones or blooming flowers. Hillbilly would use his bare hands; he’d rid the world of anything that stood in the way of their happiness. No matter how big, no matter how small.He had to trust Andy would do the same.“That he was baldin’ about the head?” Eddie continued, hearing the expectant silence. He dutifully obliged it. “That he liked t’ go nettin’ up the creek?”Propping his elbow on the back of the bench, Eddie leant back and looked over his shoulder.“Or that he was the first man who ever fucked me?” He asked, making damn sure their eyes met.They had so much to catch up on. It would be a crime for Hillbilly to blame their years apart for it.His cowardice was the culprit. He’d shied away from everything about himself besides the present and the obvious. Now, he had a thousand miles of ground to cover.Good thing Andy was a patient man. He chuckled softly, glancing down at his bare feet.“Mnn.” He hummed, “The last one, I suppose.”With a crooked smile, Eddie sat back against the bench. He flexed his fingers thoughtfully.No lie came to mind. He didn’t want to flee, either.“He was a lot older than me.” He began, “Or I think he was- Hard t’ say. He came t’ paint the Appalachian mountains, stayed f’ the whole summer.”His huff was affectionate and his blush warm. It tingled his cheeks; he liked the memories he found erupting.“Everybody humoured him, nice folks that they was. Let him walk about with his easel an’ waved at him in his lil’ rented cabin.” Hillbilly found his eyes drifting as he spoke, moving up to Andy’s waist, not yet ready to meet his eyes. “He asked me if I could fix up a leak in the roof. And I did.”His gaze flickered up to Ack Ack’s. A soft, vulnerable look, desperate for approval. His captain provided, his grin attentive and warm. He returned his fingers to those curls, carding through them gently. Encouraging the rest of the tale, hanging on every word.“That old place was fallin’ apart- I spent a good deal a’ time helpin’ him.” Eddie said. “They weren’t excuses, neither. Not at first. He was sweet to me, always gave me an odd handful a’ dollars f’ my trouble. I don’t think he knew how much he was givin’ each time, but he never let me refuse.”A snort filled his nose as he shook his head, scratching his forehead in embracement.“Hopje.” He said.Andy arched an eyebrow. “I’m sorry?”“Hopje.” Hillbilly repeated. “Them sweets he gave me. They was called hopje.”Understanding the joke now, Ack Ack kept his chuckle dignified. He swallowed it down to a mere gurgle in his throat, clearly enjoying the mental picture he’d been provided. A younger, ganglier Eddie, with wide blues eyes as he bit down on an exotic confectionery handed to him by a doting stranger.His lieutenant told the story with such fondness, Andy found himself swept up in the joy of it.“When there was nothin’ left t’ fix, I’d sit and watch him paint. Hands between my knees, like some kinda idiot, scared t’ touch anythin’…” Hillbilly hummed softly. “I reckon I knew why I wanted t’ be around him, deep down. He certainly did.”Stretching in his seat, the lieutenant cracked his back and grunted. He’d grown bored with his reminiscing.“I got the hint eventually.” He joked, “Once he realised all his subtle touches weren’t clickin’ with the dumb hick who’d fixed his busted stove, a’ course. He put a hand on my knee and said ‘Edward, I would like to kiss you’.”His snort was embarrassed as he shook his head.“Damn near shit my breeches.” He laughed.Hovering above him, Andy was chuckling again. Lest restrained, allowing that wonderful sound out over the garden. He squeezed himself behind the bench, positioned over his lieutenant. A hand on Eddie’s shoulder and the other deep in his curls, carding through them affectionately.“And what did you say?” Ack Ack asked.Hillbilly grinned smugly, flashing his teeth as he hung his head back and turned his eyes upwards.“I said he could, if he wanted. And anythin’ else he wanted, as well.” He replied. “I’d always fantasised about it- About other boys kissin’ me, not just him. Sure wasted a lot of nights doin’ so.”He hummed, reaching up to place his hand over Andy’s on his shoulder.“It was nice.” He admitted. “Fuckin’ was nice, too. I was real eager, kept apologisin’ and rubbin’ my hands on my shirt they were so sweaty. But he was patient with me and we had a good time.”Eddie sighed. His eyes slipped shut and he realised there were greater burdens than air leaving his lungs.The weight of keeping himself locked away, never thinking his stories worth sharing, rolled over his tongue with every word uttered. They were collected by a dutiful and caring listener, who bent down and laid a chaste kiss to Hillbilly’s forehead. A simple gratitude, thanking him for the sincerity.When Eddie inhaled, he was filled with a peace he didn’t recognise. He grinned lazily.“That was a good summer.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Andy got that clerk position. But then, they both knew he would. None of the other candidates stood a chance against the handsome, cheerful, perfect Haldane.Not one to be outdone on the work front, Eddie headed down the dockyards. Plenty of dismantling to be completed, cruise liners that their owners wanted back up to civilian standard. Hard work that wasn’t hard to get, with no more soldiers to ship or caskets to repatriate.He came home sore the first day, groaning softly when he slid through their door. The chain snapped into place, stifling his complaints by laying his head against the wood. He wasn’t quiet enough; he heard the creak of the armchair in the living room.“Eddie?” floated into the hall.It wasn’t a wistful greeting. It demanded explanation for the groaning.Releasing a whispered “Fuck” to the entrance, Eddie opened his eyes. Dark wood stared back and he cursed his lover’s excellent hearing. He stepped through the open doorway into the sitting room and smiled tiredly. It didn’t amuse; Andy’s eyebrow arched. The book he held was left slack in his lap, tie pulled loose, and sleeves rolled up.For a moment, Hillbilly was struck by how handsome he was. Relaxed and definitely content, judging by the fact that his slacks were slung over the couch. It was warm and he’d stripped down to his boxers, socks, and garters. His blond hair remained impeccably combed to one side, still in its career-abiding position, unlike the rest of his suit.Still, Ack Ack retained that unimpressed stare. Demanding explanation and knowing full well Eddie would cave to his order.Cave he did; the tall man sunk into that ugly couch of theirs with a heavy groan. His new – and already dirty – overalls would surely leave a few extra stains on the upholstery. His head tilted towards the ceiling and he hummed. A spring was poking him from beneath the cushions, ratty old thing. It was bliss on his aching scars, pulling up his side and over his chest. He hoped the pain wasn’t obvious; he’d always prided himself on being able to hide such things. With his eyes closed, he heard shuffling from the armchair; the sound of a lighter snapping open and shut. He smelt smoke and grunted. His hand came up and sent a rude ‘give’ gesture towards the culprit.Cracking an eye open, Eddie found his request strangely obeyed. A cigarette packet was tossed his way and he caught it with a trained jerk of his arm. Hand-to-hand combat reflexes.It cost him. He hissed, feeling the motion catch his battered skin. Looking at Andy, he realised that had been the point.“Thought so.” The blond muttered bitterly, bringing his smoke to his lips. He took a punctuating drag as Hillbilly lit up himself. “You’ve gone and hurt yourself.”He kept his tone flat, hovering between teasing and resentment. Like gasoline spilt in the sun, his anger was fluid. It would need igniting or ignoring, depending on the heat of Eddie’s answer.“It ain’t so bad.” The taller man chuckled.His crooked grin received a twitch of Ack Ack’s lip in response. The gasoline almost caught fire. The captain took another pull of his cigarette, longer this time.“Any man can see you’re still strong, Eddie.” Andy said, “Nobody thinks otherwise. They just need look at you.”Hillbilly let his gaze wander, over the window with the lace curtains pulled. The sun was on its orange decent and they were alone in their lovely apartment. The iron fence kept them safer than prison bars and yet he still found his hands drifting into his lap. Hanging between his knees, dirty, sweaty fingers wringing together. Agitation, some might call it. He didn’t like this conversation.“But we all have to work within our limitations.” Ack Ack continued, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “Lord knows I do.”“You ain’t got no limitations.” Eddie hissed, words sent towards the floor.It brought that handsome smile back to the blond’s features, along with a humble chuckle. Hillbilly found his eyes drawn to it, longing to see that stern expression melt away. Replaced by a serene grin and a loving shake of Andy’s head.My, the things Hillbilly would do to see that smile. If his filthy attraction didn’t make him a sinner, that list certainly did.“You want me t’ quit?” He asked. He meant it.Ack Ack shook his head. “No.”Cracking his neck, he stubbed his cigarette out on the ashtray by his chairside. He laid his book to rest on the table with it, corner folded, and slouched comfortably against the back of his seat.“We’ll work something out.” He included a wag of his finger to keep Eddie from claiming a victory on the conversation. “But you need to be more careful.”Hillbilly’s grin could have split his face in two. Clambering off that ugly couch, he sidled over. He stood before the armchair for a moment, gazing down at the content man below. His captain stared back, head tilted upwards and features calm. Towered over by a dirt-streaked marine did nothing to change his rising eyebrows, his expectant gaze.With a quiet snort, Eddie began unbuckling his overalls. They fell away to the floor, revealing a distinct outline on his t-shirt. A patch unsullied by dockyard dust and grease stains, roughly about his chest. He stepped out the discarded clothes and pressed his knee against the chair. Climbing carefully into Andy’s lap, Hillbilly enjoyed sliding his hands over the man’s shoulders. Across the fabric of his shirt, moving to grip the back of the seat. The lieutenant settled himself, straddling his captain’s thighs, and hummed. An appreciative sound, nodding at the hands that slid up his bare thighs, coming to grab his waist.Worn military boxers met pretty navy ones from some fancy department store. That didn’t matter, not whilst Hillbilly could enjoy the intimate heat beneath. They pressed against one another, Ack Ack adjusting himself to get comfortable under the weight in his lap.Not once did he look away from Eddie’s eyes. Andy gazed upwards with an expression of contentment. Head tipped back, neat blond hair off his forehead, quietly enjoying what he saw; his brave lieutenant, pink tinging his cheeks where he fought back a frown. An instinctual need to hide, to shy away from a gaze he didn’t think he deserved. Just another hateful part of himself desperate to drag him downwards. Crippling self-doubt that he had the tools to kick aside these days, to hold Andy’s stare and smile under it.With confident hands, Hillbilly ran his fingers through those blond locks. Shifting that combed perfection out of place, purely for the sensation. For the pleasure of it, because he wanted to. He liked his captain’s hair better tussled.“Welcome home.” Ack Ack murmured.He was grinning. It infected Eddie, drawing him down with a pleased chuckle. Their lips pressed against one another, chaste but heavy, retreating only to rest their foreheads together. Andy kneaded his love’s hips and squeezed the muscle protectively, feeling his lieutenant’s hands slide down from his hair. Warm palms rested against his cheeks, thumbs brushing his skin.“Glad t’ be back.” Hillbilly sighed. They settled into a routine. Or rather, Andy settled them into one.Each morning placed a little domestic magic on their plates, along with healthy helpings of eggs and bacon. Two men’s salaries, even in a combination of part time and cheap labour, put them in a comfortable spot.They always got ready for work together, on the days Andy worked. Rolling awake at six o’clock, as usual, but with additional groans of annoyance at the need to get dressed. Up and at ‘em boys, no morning fuck to be had. They’d smack each other’s asses at the slightest whiff of delay, staggering into the bathroom with cusses and gurgles of laughter.Opening the cupboard, Hillbilly would toss his captain his seizure pills. Ack Ack would knock them back dry and without complaint. Soon, it wasn’t just Ack Ack’s medication bottles Eddie would toss across the bathroom.In the evenings, he would open the cupboard with a snort of annoyance. Reaching inside, he’d pull out the metaphorical cement that really made this a routine.The scar cream Andy had acquired. Expensive stuff, its receiver would bet, but he never asked. Whatever it was, it did the trick and didn’t come with a hospital visit.Hillbilly had started off by accepting it with grumbled complaint. He’d angrily slapped away any attempt to help him apply it, sending his captain a look that could cut diamond. That held up for a week or so, when Eddie was still getting over the fact he needed the stuff. When he was finally out of his sulking, leaning against the sink one evening and staring down at the tube on the counter, Andy tried again.The captain’s hands were warm, running over the terrible burns that tore up his lieutenant’s side. Over his chest, to that jagged and grisly scar that hid his heart.It wasn’t supposed to be intimate and, in some ways, it wasn’t. What it did was make things easier, once Hillbilly got used to the idea.Andy was thorough. He wasn’t overly gentle nor dismissively rough. He ran his hands over his love expertly and rewarded him with a kiss to the temple when he was finished.A routine, then. This must be what domestic bliss was really like.Eddie savoured the taste every day. He loved it. Amongst the healthy, happy routine, they could still stave off the monotony afflicting their neighbours.The fantastic sex helped. Nothing to dissuade a little boredom like moaning into each other’s mouths as they fucked on the couch. What was another stain or two to that hideous upholstery? (Even Eddie, in all this aesthetic stupidity, thought the pattern was beyond dreadful.)Being men, they flexed all the expected entertainment they’d learned to love. They shouted at the radio when the football results fell short, Andy even throwing his beer bottle at the wall on a couple of occasions. They played baseball in the park, a bastardised two-man version, purely for an excuse to hit the ball into the road and howl. They drank together in the garden until they passed out on the bench, tore their favourite beefcake pages from fitness magazines, hammered a shitty dartboard onto the kitchen wall.Being queers, they didn’t have to draw a meaningless line and stop there. They listened to their neighbours fight like schoolboys, hands over mouths, whispering debates as to what was going on behind the wall. They spent time potting plants in the garden, Andy instructing as they created the perfect flowerbed he longed for. They danced to records or enjoyed renditions from Eddie’s guitar, letting the music they’d been denied for years fill the house. They slid their way into the South End and then staggered out again in the early hours, drunk and content with sequins stuck to their shirts. They drove down to the beach for little picnics, held hands in the darkness of the movie theatre, borrowed a couple of bikes and road around Boston.Every day, Eddie felt in under his skin; the sensation of being alive. He didn’t recognise it for familiarity reasons.No, this feeling was new. A sad realisation, something he mercifully kept from Andy, watching the man lose his footing on his pedals. His bicycle swerved and he let out a strangled yell, stumbling as he fell over onto the grass. The great Captain Haldane, laid waste by an uneven footpath. His laughter overtook his groan of pain, finding green stains streaking his slacks.And as Eddie circled around him, still pedalling as he laughed heartlessly at his captain’s accident, he knew he couldn’t tell him.Because Hillbilly had turned twenty-nine a month or so ago; he’d passed the day by during his useless meandering towards Lawrence. Almost thirty, his best years behind him. Lost to the dust of islands everybody once wanted and nobody now cared about.Twenty-nine. And here in Massachusetts was the first time he’d felt truly alive.Though he’d promised to stop lying to Andy – an oath he had been keeping sincerely – Eddie could forgive himself for not divulging that miserable statement. It was in the past, after all. No reason to dampen the world a little darker with the knowledge.All that mattered was that here, he was alive. Here, he was happy. He caught Andy looking at that Luckies tin, tucked away in Eddie’s bedside draw.Each time he reached for his glasses or Vaseline or a fresh pack of cigarettes, he’d catch his captain’s glance. A single, polite flick of his eyes. Nothing more. A silent peek, followed by an easy smile and not a word to follow. The questions on Ack Ack’s tongue must burn terribly.But Hillbilly had fallen in love with an ever-patient man, one who had always coaxed confessions from him rather than choked them out.For some time, that was all it was.Glances. Eddie was sure he’d never finished work early before. Today must be a day of firsts.Some unimportant date in early July, as summer bloomed fully and lit up the streets with blinding sunshine. The lifting and welding and ripping and tearing of the dockyards came to a halt that afternoon. Somebody told him why but his grunt took the statement away on the breeze. He was busy scratching his chin, considering the application of his sudden free time.It had been a while since he’d thought of the Corps, longer still since he’d thought of Peleliu – outside of his dreams, that is. Could be Guadalcanal or Gloucester, the specifics didn’t matter. He couldn’t help but reminisce, nails raking over the tiniest of stubble he wore.It wasn’t the gunfire he thought of. Nor the crushing heat, the bloody sun, the drowning rain. It wasn’t the shitty food or the mud that crawled up his legs or the dust that choked him when he breathed. Not smoke, not dirt, not sirens, not grinding tracks. Nothing of the unpleasantness that stalked him when he let his mind drift, when he dwelled like he was ordered not to.For the first time, he wished for a little piece of those hellscapes to be with him. Right here, right now.He wished he had a radio.The communication kind. Pieces of dogshit that they’d been, they could hold a crackling signal long enough to help. What was he to do without one. Runners weren’t sent dashing through civilian streets and there was no C.O to beg an explanation from.With his hands shoved deep into his overalls, Hillbilly went strolling from the dockyards. Past the seafront and into the hooting streets, under store awnings and around lampposts. It passed him by under a stern frown, mind humming with the broken radios he had never thought he’d miss.In his usual stubbornness, he intended to walk all the way home. Maybe with a bus ride in there somewhere. He’d done it before and he wasn’t exactly an anxious man.He stopped when he found a payphone. It stared him down for a long moment, black metal meeting a harsh glare. To the protest of every bone in his body, his steps faltered.This was it, wasn’t it. The possibility of a normal he’d never known, three times over.He’d never had the money, back in his hometown. He’d never needed the things, riding with the marines.And he’d never had anyone to call.The rattle of his coins and clacking of the dial was strange. Asking for help was strange. Eddie hooked the received up to his ear and held it there with his shoulder. He was busy pulling a piece of newspaper off his battered boots, needing to busy his hands. He pretended this wasn’t against his natural instincts, like he didn’t feel giddy at the idea of it.He got through to who he wanted eventually. He cleared his throat.“Hello, Mrs. Henderson.” He said politely, “Sorry t’ bother y- Yes, this is Edward Jones… Yes, from two doors down.”His accent gave him away again.“…Yes, I’m Mr. Haldane’s friend.” He agreed.Shifting his weight and leaning against the phone, Hillbilly had to roll is eyes. Fittingly queer gesture as it was, it felt appropriate. He’d learnt to find comedy rather than tragedy in the words, the dramatics eclipsing the depressing reality of the lie.“I was wonderin’ if y’ might be able t’ give him a message from me.” He explained. “I finished work real early and he’s got my car.”Their car, but Mrs. Henderson didn’t need that detail.She didn’t need to know the ins and outs; how Andy drove his love to work and visa versa, how they dropped each other off with barely contained smiles. Where shoulder pats replaced kisses goodbye, where they shared cigarettes from the dash and longed to have their hands brush.“Yes, ma’am… Yes…” Eddie sniffed and nodded, closing his eyes in despair as he realised she couldn’t see him, “Tell him I’ll be waitin’ in the usual place… Thank you.”His teeth found his bottom lip as he nodded again without thinking. He thanked her twice more, conscious of running up a bill. He wasn’t made of quarters.The receiver was hooked back into place with a sigh. Waiting was the worst part. It gave him time to formulate ideas.Stupid ideas.Like the one he felt pierce him as he walked back towards the dockyards. He chose a different route, wanting to explore the city in a minor capacity.It took him past a flower shop. Summer had swung in and hit Massachusetts in the face. The colours were vibrant, the petals splaying out in a ridiculous plethora of hues across glass. In his second breakthrough that afternoon – that he would never acknowledge as such, not before his deathbed – Eddie’s footfalls stopped.He looked at the flowers and the flowers looked at him. He felt heat on his neck, a familiar anxiety. His scowl deepened, driving a painful wedge into his thoughts.Andy loved flowers. His garden was a testament to his green thumb, beautiful work in progress it was becoming. The Latin names would fall freely from his lips as he gestured enthusiastically, running through his hopes for their backyard. It kept him busy on his off days, safely on the grass where any falls wouldn’t kill him.Petunias were his favourite, Hillbilly knew that. He cursed himself for it, having committed the fact to heart like so many of Ack Ack’s preferences.It wasn’t like the man needed to return the favour. Eddie didn’t have favourites to remember in turn.There might be petunias in this shop. Definitely, considering he also remembered what time they bloomed, how many colours they came in, and their ideal potting techniques. But it wasn’t the availability of the flowers that was stopping him, was it?Bouquets weren’t for men to receive. Give, sure, and only to girls. The prospective girlfriends or the budding sweethearts or the wives they’d upset. Soldiers in peaked caps held handfuls of tulips, cock-sure flyboys put roses between their teeth. All for the ladies.Not for Eddie to give or receive. The thought made his palms sweaty, had his boots shifting uncomfortably. He skirted closer to the flower stalls only to keep out of strangers’ ways. It brought the petals into sharp relief and he had to avert his eyes.Flowers were for girls. His daddy had told him so, catching sight of what his son had come home with. A dollar and a tulip, from that visiting Dutchman he’d been spending time with. The latter had given rise to the painful but brief reminder of his daddy’s disapproval.He really should be on his way. Andy would be at the docks soon to meet him. Andy who, at his silly request, was driving all the way out to pick him up.He deserved some petunias for the effort. The ones he’d planted hadn’t bloomed yet.When Hillbilly blinked and tried to leave, he saw a tulip, though there were none in the shop. He saw mangled petals, squashed into old floorboards.He turned back around. He looked like a damned fool, desperately waving to the poor shop assistant who’d been anxiously watching him glare at her flowers. He apologised and all but begged her to tell him if she had any petunias. His apparent stupidity soothed her nerves as she pointed to the very display he’d been scowling at, no more than a foot away from him.Dutiful embarrassed, Eddie said he’d take the yellow ones. Every second she spent wrapping them up in a paper bouquet was torture.Clutching the flowers like a loaded rifle, Hillbilly handed over a handful of coins and left in a hurry. He said she could keep the change. He knew the sound of his old girl before he saw her.Beautiful chipped blue paint flashed in the afternoon sun, the pickup rolling around the corner to the same spot they always used. The one currently drenched in about four inches of Eddie’s sweat, his uncomfortable pacing having bored holes into the sidewalk.He wouldn’t call himself a wreck because that would be too dramatic. It would be a disservice to how he appeared to the few strangers who passed; a tall man with a deep scowl, tapping his foot and pacing about like he was lost in thought. No indication of the battle behind his eyes, the sweat at his nape. They weren’t interested in him, despite the glances he sent their way.They had absolutely no inclination about the flowers clutched tightly in his fist. Why would they suspect something abnormal. If anything, the bouquet explained his concentrated demeaner.Asking an attractive woman out was a big deal.Just like that pickup pulling up to the curb wasn’t. It was part of their routine.There was nothing routine about this, even as Eddie inhaled sharply. Instinctively snapping to attention, his hands coming up to his chest. The flowers were in full view as the passenger door swung open, Andy having graciously reached over to open it. There, he stopped, hanging on the steering wheel to support his leaning. His blue eyes moved over the petunias, widening ever so slightly as he digested their bright colour.Ack Ack’s gaze moved up to meet his lover’s, finding a fearful expression hidden beneath that terrifying scowl. A desperate request for approval, hidden in a man who sent enemy soldiers running for higher ground.The captain’s expression softened. The cigarette in his mouth shifted as a warm smile bloomed across his features, held down in the light of day. His eyes crinkled, the wrinkles of age drawn in the lines of laughter.He looked so Goddamn happy. It had Hillbilly’s shoulders sinking in relief, his own crooked grin tugging at his cheeks.Composed as ever, Andy patted the passenger seat then settled back against his own. Eddie hopped inside and slammed the door, the engine purring as they pulled out into the road. He couldn’t tear his gaze from his captain, watching him in the hopes of drinking in a little more of that approval.With his attention on the road, the blond still couldn’t keep from glancing at the flowers.“You have a good day?” He asked first.“Same old.” His lieutenant replied. It wasn’t the most exciting of topics and he’d much rather move on to brighter things.“They’re beautiful flowers.” Ack Ack continued, “What lucky individual might they be for?”He received a warning glance from the passenger seat.“Dumb don’t suit you.” Hillbilly replied curtly.He loved the laughter it elicited. A hand fell against his thigh, giving him a loving squeeze. When Andy glanced his way again, he was beaming. Behind a locked front door, away from prying eyes, Eddie could play his part properly.Nervousness remained in the tips of his fingers but he chose to ignore it. If rejection was intended, Andy would have said so in the car.Instead, they were here. In the cool shadows of their home, barely six inches apart where they kicked off their shoes. They stood beside the closed door and paused, chests brushing in their intimacy. Glancing down, Hillbilly carefully brought the flowers up. His thumb ran over the crisp paper and he smiled.“You know they’re f’ you…” He muttered accusingly.Andy grinned. “I know.”They both turned their attention downwards, at the bright petunias held between them. Their foreheads knocked and they each grunted. Two unimpressed sounds where they bumped heads, turned to chuckles as they exchanged glances. A pair of hands were laid atop the lieutenant’s where he clutched the flowers.“They’re beautiful.” Ack Ack repeated.Gently, he rubbed a petal between his fingers. His soft ‘oh’ of delight and enraptured stare had Eddie sighing. He couldn’t have wished for a better reaction.Their eyes met again. Holding hands around the petunias, Andy leant in and kissed him. Andy put the flowers in an old tin mug.“I promise I’ll get a vase for next time.” He said, arranging the stems just right. “I’m sure mama has one I can borrow on a permanent basis.”Eddie had to chuckle at the suggestion. “Who said they’ll be a next time?”His coyness wasn’t appreciated. The peck he received in response was forceful, accompanied by a grip on his chin and a growl. Andy got that vase. They weren’t far from Lawrence.He called ahead. He wore his pretty blue shirt. He drove the pickup and he went while Eddie was at work. He was back long before his lieutenant came home.There was an apple pie on the kitchen table. Heated in the oven and smelling gorgeous, the scent guiding Hillbilly through the hallway.Ack Ack was sipping some tea. They sat together with their strange dinner ensemble, a bottle of beer joining them. They tucked into the pie, the pastry crumbling deliciously and leaving crumbs they licked their fingers to grab.“I take no credit for it.” Andy was explaining between mouthfuls, “Though I did make sure it was hot for you. And with our oven, that’s an achievement. I deserve some praise.”“You’re a real fantastic cook.” Eddie said, deadpan as he fixed his love with a cold stare, “Fit f’ the caterin’ corps, I’m sure.”“Next time, I’ll finish it before you get home.” The blond replied, equally cold.They chuckled into their treat. Two-thirds of the tin disappeared before they pushed the steaming carcass away. Both men sat back in their chairs with heavy grunts, sharing disgusted glances as they realised their mistake. They weren’t as well adjusted as they claimed; they still shovelled down sweet foods like they’d never have another chance at them.Popping open a second beer, Hillbilly’s cigarette shifted between his teeth as he spoke.“How was it?” He asked.He wasn’t talking about the pie.Andy had gotten to his feet, taking their used plates to the sink. He put the kettle on and laid a cloth over the unfinished treat.“Good.” He said, nodding to the counter. “She was relieved to see me. It felt good to give her that reassurance.”Eddie believed him.His love was free from that overbearing house, for better or worse. That oppressive concern was natural, understandable even, but it didn’t change the weight of it. The thought brought a smile to Hillbilly’s lips, tiny and cruel. He’d pulled Ack Ack away from that. Given a second option to shrivelling away in his childhood home, smothered with a love that considered him a fragile ornament.Eddie should really start searching for the good in his actions, after all the time he wasted on the bad. (Andy had a habit of leading him to realisation eventually.)“You must’ve done a good job reassurin’.” He huffed. “Since she was nice enough t’ send her boy home with a pie.”Smelling his fresh mug of tea, Andy had to laugh. “She was desperate for you to try it. There’s homemade jam in the cupboards too.”He turned back towards the table. He leant against the counter and took a slow sip.“She sends her best wishes.” He said carefully.To you, he didn’t add. Something told the lieutenant the words had been modified somewhat. Played down, perhaps replacing ‘love’ with ‘best wishes’. Maybe omitting further comment, like a request that her son’s good friend come visit next time.“She was asking after you.” The blond continued, “How your parents were faring with the move, what with you being so far from home.”Another pointed sip. Eddie did not retreat from his captain’s stare where they locked eyes. The room was held in silence, neither man acknowledging the conversational swords hanging over their heads.Humming, Hillbilly turned back to the table with a shrug. He stubbed his cigarette in the ashtray. He twisted it for longer than needed.“She’s a lovely woman.” He replied.Meaningless. He gave no additions.“That she is.” Andy murmured.He hid his disappointment behind his tea. He’d been hoping for something akin to their conversation in the backyard, the voluntary opening of the heavy tome Edward Jones. Despite his expert probing, he’d slammed into a brick wall. Leave it to Hillbilly to bring an iron curtain across himself. Sensitive information, he’d called it, all those years ago.Sensitive, indeed.Eddie’s stomach rumbled loudly. He grunted, tugging roughly at his belt to free his gut.“Fuck.” He laughed, “She sure makes the best apple pie I ever tasted.”He slapped his belly twice, shifting in his seat so he could direct the gesture Andy’s way. It resulted in stifled sniggers falling into his captain’s tea, distracted by the stupid display.Anything to replace the quiet with laughter. Anything to keep Eddie’s family out of the happy home he’d built without them. It was hard to watch those petunias wilt. Harder still to see the vase Andy’s mother lent her son, sat empty in the flower’s place. Empty, unfilled, reflecting the morning light when Eddie awoke. There was a constant reminder of the family that remained a part of the strange domestic life they’d built, something he’d never imagined possible.It had Hillbilly chewing on uncomfortably heavy thoughts. Bitter tasting, impossible to swallow, moving around his mouth as he grappled with them silently. He’d have to spit them out eventually.Because Andy never pried. Andy never complained. Andy never put himself first between the two of them.Eddie had to do this himself. He had to give his captain what he owed him.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Chatter floated up the creaking staircase.Andy had come home in a good mood, hanging his hat and coat by the door. He’d had a rough time of it recently, having collapsed in the office last week. Apparently, the co-worker who’d cushioned his head and waited for him to rouse had come in for a chat today. When presented with Ack Ack’s well-concealed embarrassment and professional apologies, the man had waved them away.“His brother was a bomber crewman.” He was explaining, skipping up the stairs with a spring in his step, “He took a nasty splinter to the head when they went down over France. Can’t imagine it, myself- But the result was, as he put it, much the same.”His huff was quiet as he pushed open the bedroom door. He was shaking his head, seemingly healing a little of his humiliation over the whole affair.“Of all the people to pick me up, I’d prefer it be him.” He explained, “A little sympathy can’t hurt…”His voice faded. The room was empty.On the bed, stark against the pale sheets, sat a little green tin. Closer to the door than not, distinctly placed on Ack Ack’s side of the mattress. A perfect position for his eyes to fall on it, lips parted as he read the ‘LUCKY STRIKES’ flaking from the lid.Andy’s inhale was deep and slow. The creak of the floorboards behind him revealed the man stepping out from the bathroom. A silent presence at his back, waiting in the doorway as he approached the bed. His slacks brushed the mattress and he stood, unmoving, for a brief moment. He didn’t reach out. He didn’t take what he so desperately wanted to.Looking over his shoulder, Ack Ack looked to the figure leaning against the doorframe. Eddie’s arms were folded and his expression plain.“Open it.” He said, like it was nothing.It was. He knew that.Andy’s eyes left his, wandering over the floorboards. Considering, finding no reason to disobey, then moving back to the tin. With a firm hand, the captain took the box from the sheets. He sat on the edge of the bed and rested it on his knees. He ran his thumbs over the metal before he pressed the lid back, the hinges creaking softly.A neglected grave stared back. It was a hole dark and deep. Andy’s fingers shifted the items out gently, placed by his side one at a time.A couple of Jap coins, washed up on the beach amongst the carnage. Dog-tags and marine pins. Stones from Guadalcanal, Cape Gloucester, Pavuvu, and Peleliu respectively. A silver star and a worn cross that hadn’t seen the light of day in some time. The usual mementos.The usual worthless shit.“Careful with the medal.” Eddie chuckled weakly, “Think it might be made a’ tinfoil.”His jokes couldn’t help him; the hand rubbing the back of his neck gave him away. That star was laid against the sheets with the rest of his personal items. Pieces of a story he’d lived but never told. It glimmered amongst the tiny pile, shying away from Andy’s intense stare.His fingers moved to the bottom of the tin. Skin brushing paper, retracting at the sensation. With the caution afforded to a hand grenade, Ack Ack peeled the crumpled letter from the box. Folded away for months, years perhaps, yellowing and stained with dirt.When he looked up, seeking final approval, Andy found Hillbilly’s eyes boring into the baseboard. With a settling breath, the captain turned the letter over in his hands. The paper creaked uncomfortably as it was unfolded, aching from its long time crushed out of sight. The scrawl was messy, scored in pencil, and distinctly Eddie. There were crossed out words every paragraph and what looked like water damage in a couple of spots. There was no return address in the right-hand corner.And there, in a shaky first line, were the words nobody wanted to read.“Oh, Eddie…” Andy whispered.‘Dear mama’ was followed by a lengthy list of siblings, wishing them all well. A hope that this message found them all happy, healthy, as if they’d been speaking for years. As if this wasn’t the first they’d heard of their son, their brother, for over a decade. Pretending was easier. It was so easy when appearing under the lead of a pencil.Men could be anything they wanted on paper.There was an apology for not writing sooner that was nervously scored through. There was talk of the marines, of the war, sanitized for civilians' sake. His commission was reduced to three words, the briefest ‘I made lieutenant.’ and nothing more. As if it didn't matter. There was a single poetic line regarding the beauty of Melbourne, so incredibly sincere in its prose, followed by a bland list of other places he’d visited. It was too humble to be boastful. Then came a damning justification of the words. An explanation that he just wanted them to know that he was alright, that he didn’t want to bother them, that he wouldn’t write again after this one time. Begging, almost, to be understood.There was no mention of the man he’d fallen in love with.Ack Ack’s brow furrowed in pain as he came to the final scrawl. ‘Edward’ stared back at him, signed for finality. It looked completely wrong.“Never did get round t’ sendin’ it.” Eddie muttered, like that wasn’t obvious.He hadn’t sent any letters to Andy either but that was a different dilemma. One of fear, for a romance lost or an officer killed. And a purely practical problem; they’d both been dancing around hospitals, never knowing where their love could be. Hell, they hadn’t even known where they were themselves. Hillbilly had never given his captain an address to use since he didn’t have one outside the marines, so it wasn’t like he’d have been getting mail from Ack Ack.They’d forgiven all that anyway.This letter went unsent for a thousand reasons, most of all because it should never have been written at all. But write it Eddie had.The war had ended, his wounds had been healing, he’d made it back to California’s shores. There had been confetti in the streets and people embracing in joy. Even in the following months, that delight didn’t fade. There was no more fighting to be done. And fuck, now he’d settled himself in Boston, content in the work he’d found. Gratefully accepting his Captain’s offer of sharing a place, a home, on the pretence that two recovering marines needed the help as they adjusted.In that bliss, any of it, Hillbilly had wanted them to know. That he was still alive - despite what the neighbours had probably been told. That he had survived his service and done right by his country. His siblings, if not his mother, who had been so sad to see him leave. He’d addressed his letter to her and them, and her and them alone. Each of their names shakily inked across clean, crisp paper, back when it had been pristine. (He’d bought it special.)Not a word to his daddy, who would no doubt be disappointed his son hadn’t been buried in an unmarked grave.There was no war to be fought overseas. Just the stateside one, and Hillbilly couldn’t hide in the marines anymore. He’d been honourably discharged, with medals and stars and a respect he’d earned.All that meant nothing. The letter was refolded in Andy’s hands.“Eddie…” He murmured, trying to find the words.His finger ran over his top lip in thought. Back and forth, slowly. His company watched from the doorway, expression miserable. Marching for a conclusion, Ack Ack sighed. He glanced at the items on the bed and the letter in his hand. Then, without putting any of them back, he closed the tin.“I’m sorry-” Hillbilly muttered but found a hand raised sharply.Holding up his palm and demanding silence, Andy got up off the bed. He strode quickly across their bedroom and embraced his love, squeezing him tightly in his arms. Against the lieutenant’s ear, his whisper was angry.“Nothing.” The blond repeated, “You have nothing to be sorry for, remember?”Eddie remembered. He nodded, chest hitching as he gave an ugly sniff. His arms wrapped around his captain’s waist, hugging him back roughly. They squeezed and felt their chests shake together, though only one of them was fighting back tears. The trembling ran over both of them, sharing the hardship that wracked the love they’d been born to.“I love you.” Hillbilly sniffed.His arms remained around Ack Ack’s waist as the man pulled back, taking his lieutenant’s face in his hands. His blue eyes were alight, shadowed by strands of blond hair. Tussled, just how his lieutenant liked it. Andy squeezed his cheeks and pressed a forceful kiss to his lips. He pushed them back against the doorframe and when he pulled away, that boiling passion had only grown behind his eyes.“I love you too, Eddie.” He whispered. “You deserve so much- Things that I can’t give you.”He saw Eddie’s expression turn ugly, twisting in annoyance even under the tears that bubbled up in his eyes. The wet sniff he gave sounded like he was about to argue. Andy stopped him with a trembling smile and tearful huff of his own.“But I will always be here,” He continued, “And I’ll do everything to give you even an ounce of what you’ve earned- I’ll do anything to make you happy.”With their foreheads pressed together, Ack Ack choked up a laugh; a horrid sound matched by Hillbilly’s equally broken huff. Droplets splashed Andy’s handsome suit, tiny stains only they would ever know about. Those warm hands slid into Eddie’s curls, holding him close as they shared another kiss.“Y’know I’d do the same, don’t you?” The lieutenant whispered against his captain’s lips, “That I’m tryin’ t- That I-?”“Yes.” Ack Ack whispered, his smile growing with every stammer, “God, Eddie, yes, I know- You’ve been doing it for years!”They laughed breathlessly and kissed again. Their tongues slid against each other this time, pushing deeper and fighting to get as close as possible. Eddie preferred it this way, not having to stumble out his unpoetic confessions. He’d need a little longer to craft them, always second to Andy’s perfect way with words.Their bedroom glittered in bright orange, closer to yellow than red, as the summer sun set on Massachusetts. The rays flashed over their forms, locked in a passionate kiss, cutting through the lace curtains. Illuminated in the dying light, the floorboards cradled a discarded letter, lost where it had slipped from the mattress.It was ignored. After all, it had no address on the outside.There was nowhere for it to go. Eddie was sure he misheard him. Damn fucking sure.Because, if he hadn’t, then they were going to be having quite a difficult conversation today. Hillbilly had been hoping for some discussion of the planter he was currently hammering together. On his knees in the dirt, as per most of his life, lining up another wood join. The nails in his mouth kept him from replying instantly, and he was certain Andy knew that. Sidling out into their garden, sifting through the mail in his hands, he’d spoken far too casually.“I want to meet your parents.” He’d said.Eddie had dutifully spat the nails onto the grass.“What?” He’d snarled.It wasn’t a tone he usually took with his captain. An aggression reserved for young marines whose stupidity had put the company in danger, that sort of thing. A competent officer above his station would never hear it.Ack Ack’s eyes moved up from the envelope he was scanning. His stare was guarded.“I want to meet-” He tried but was cut off.“I heard.” Hillbilly growled. It did the trick.He sat back on his haunches and wiped his forehead. His hands gripped his jeans tightly, head tilted back to look up at Andy. Who, patient as ever, was waiting silently for his reply. God, Eddie had to laugh. A rough snigger, followed by a shake of his head.He collected his nails and picked up his hammer.“No,” He replied, “You don’t.” They had a picnic on the grass.Discarded Coca-Cola bottles littered the scene, sprawled out in the tiny space, on a threadbare blanket Andy had acquired. The sun was glaring hot and they were barefooted. Shirts still on but pants discarded. Hands behind his head, Eddie’s legs were long enough he could put his feet up on the planter he’d finished weeks ago. The flowers living inside had bloomed beautifully.Andy was resting his head on his lieutenant’s chest. He had a pen in hand that tapped rhythmically against his piece of paper. They were debating a trip out of town since they both had holiday to take.“So, where d’ you wanna go?” Hillbilly drawled.Fifth time the charm, hopefully. He’d made it clear he didn’t much care, excited for the long drive and sleeping in the truck bed together. And getting fucked over the bonnet, that as well.Ack Ack’s smile was sheepish, a different thought playing across his mind.“To meet your parents.” He replied nonchalantly.He had to be joking. Hillbilly huffed and rolled his eyes closed.“No, really.” He said, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face.Squinting was giving him a headache. Andy didn’t let up.“To meet your parents.” He repeated, his tone serious, “I mean it, Ed.”Blond hair shifted as the lieutenant’s chest rose and fell heavily. His eyes cracked open and he was blinded briefly by the light. It was a lovely Sunday. No church in sight.“I know y’ do.” He murmured.He had come to terms with it since the last time Andy asked. It had been a while. Ever-patient was becoming an understatement.Still, it felt right to have Ack Ack asking. Foreign and uncomfortable, being the first time in Hillbilly’s memory that the man had demanded something from him like this. But that wasn’t a good thing and, for all its growing pains, this was how relationships survived.Eddie would feel rotten if Andy felt he could never, ever ask.“Mnn.” The lieutenant hummed.He closed his eyes again.“We’ll see.” The mail came. One envelope, pretty and white.It had Andy gasping softly as he picked it up off their doormat. He carried it into the kitchen with a beaming smile.“Eugene wrote back.” He said.Eddie was embarrassed how his eyebrows shot up, eyes wide and suddenly alert. The radio he’d been screwing back together was abandoned, left to rot on the table. All his attention was on Ack Ack, who sat down at the other end. He watched his captain turn the letter over in his hands, marvelling at the calligraphy. The silence was electric and Hillbilly grew impatient.“Well?” He demanded, gesturing aggressively, “Open the damn thing.”His excitement must have been adorable, tipped with anxiety as it was. It had Andy grinning, reaching for the screwdriver his lover had discarded. He sliced open the envelope masterfully and unfolded the letter. His eyes scanned the words intently for a moment before they flashed upwards. Back to Eddie.“Dear Captain Haldane,” He began.Hillbilly let out an excited chuckle. He felt himself leaning forward.“I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits.” Ack Ack read aloud, “I apologise for my unacceptable delay in replying; I have found myself thoroughly lost in my studies. I express this regret explicitly, as your letter brought me such profound joy that it was unbefitting to keep you waiting on a response.”“A real gentleman.” Eddie commented.He watched Andy’s smile grow, mirrored in his own crooked grin.“Indeed.” The blond murmured.Shaking his head, the lieutenant sat back in his chair, content to enjoy the show.“It is a privilege to hear from you once more. To know you are back stateside is a great relief.” Ack Ack continued, “My brother returned before me and I am happy to announce the Sledge household has regained its colour. As for myself, I am indeed doing well after returning from the orient. I have enrolled at Alabama Polytechnic and, for the first time in many years, am enjoying the heat that has arrived here.”Andy let out a snort, clearly amused as his eyes skipped ahead to the next line.“I find myself reminded of you when watching the football team.” He recited, voice vibrating with repressed sniggers, “They are doing atrociously this season and could benefit greatly from your advice on their performance methods.”Eddie’s head fell back as he howled with laughter. They both did, Ack Ack forcing his down behind a hand against his mouth. His grin was so unlike the former misery he’d express for the sport. There wasn’t a trace of it as he composed himself, wiping his eyes and taking a settling breath. Tears of happiness, unshed as he sighed.“I will not do you the disservice of pretending I had forgotten our parting…” He recited, smile fading, “It was a dreadful time as you are all too aware.”The laughter couldn’t last, could it. They both sombrely remembered what the original letter had contained, the purpose for reaching out. Eddie tapped the table thoughtfully, gaze resting sadly on the wood.“I can, instead, articulate my sincerest understanding of our last interactions.” Andy read. His frown deepened and he paused, concern alighting over his features. “There is no forgiveness I can give as I do not believe your actions-”His finger brushed his lips, eyes never leaving the letter. Confusion melted over his expression, battling sadness and relief in whatever he found. Patiently, Hillbilly waited for the punchline.“Do not believe your actions… require such.” Ack Ack murmured.Finally, he looked his company’s way. They shared a longing stare, tipped with heartbreak. With an ache in his chest, Andy turned back to the paper.“The wounds you and Lieutenant Jones suffered were felt by all of King Company.” He read, “I speak confidently when I say that any grief you expressed has never coloured your character in the eyes of those under your command. Every marine who had the pleasure to follow you understood your compassion for each of your men. It was with that knowledge that, I believe, we were able to pull through the darkest days thrust upon us.”Watching his captain inhale, Eddie could see how his chest shook. It matched the tremble in his hands; slight and barely noticeable.“The complexity of what we have known is far greater than I can, or wish, to convey in writing.” Andy whispered, voice failing him, “Upon our next meeting, if you desire to discuss this further, I would do so without reluctance.”He tore his eyes from the paper, knuckles knocking the table where he wrenched it out of his sight. His gaze wandered the ceiling franticly, holding back something unspeakable.Hillbilly got to his feet. He circled the table, coming to rest behind his company. Both hands were placed on Ack Ack’s shoulders, squeezing him under a firm grip. The pressure quelled the shake, forced it into a single, dignified sniff from the captain.With a nod, Andy looked up at his lieutenant, his love. He found solace in two stern blue eyes. Nodding again, he adjusted the letter in his fingers.“I conclude this letter with a mirrored request;” He said, voice returning to its usual confidence, “It would be a pleasure to hear what has become of you since your return home. My best wishes will always be carried with each correspondence, extended to both you and-”The pause had Eddie looking down expectantly. He received a loving grin where the blond turned his head, meeting his gaze.“And Lieutenant Jones in earnest.” Andy read.That had then both smiling. Genuine joy, bubbling in their chests. A large hand patted Ack Ack’s arm enthusiastically, egging him to continue.“In addition, it would be my pleasure to continue correspondence and an honour to meet again in person. In fact, I write to you whilst in the process of arranging a ball in Mobile, in light of a close friend’s engagement.” He recited, excitement tipping his words, “I would be delighted if you would consider attending. I have been assured by Romus Burgin himself that many of King Company will be present!”They both chuckled at that, Eddie shaking his head. He stopped when Andy spoke again.“It would be a pleasure to have Lieutenant Jones there as well.” He read.He felt those fingers tense against him. A reflex action, born of fear or embarrassment or both. The last remaining tell of a flight or fight response, the terrible jerk of a man who never wanted attention upon him.It was soothed by Ack Ack, as it would always be. Holding the letter in one hand, he placed the other over Hillbilly’s, squeezing tightly. He ran his thumb over the warm skin, feeling that tension melt away under his grip. Patiently, he awaited his lieutenant’s reply.After chewing it over for another agonising moment, Eddie nodded once.“Guess we’ll have t’ break out the dress blues ag’in…” He chuckled quietly.A warm laugh bubbled from Andy’s chest, falling away to a delighted hum. Out of the corner of his eye, he read the final line.“Your obedient servant,” He concluded, “Eugene Sledge.”Holding his love’s hand, he let his head rest against the man’s arm. He felt the kiss laid against his hair.He closed his eyes and grinned. Andy wrote his reply. Eddie gave him notes this time.They were going to Alabama, it seemed. That would be their summer holiday, a beautiful drive if not a beautiful destination. Neither man had ever been to Mobile; they promised each other they would not succumb to its Southern charm. A great deal of teasing followed on Hillbilly’s end, convinced that the fancy New Englander between them would be the one to fall for Dixie’s ballroom glamour. Because it sure wouldn’t be the lieutenant from the Hill Country. Six generations of the Jones clan had toiled on those smoking hillsides and they did not forget a southerner’s cotton-toting bullshit.Nor did they forget a northerner’s slick smile, but Eddie omitted that part. Wouldn’t fit the company and sure as Hell wouldn’t look good on him.“I’ll remain true to my Massachusetts’ values, I assure you.” Ack Ack was telling him.Hillbilly tutted loudly. His frown was condescending.“If the devout southern gentleman Eugene Sledge can fall f’ a man two shakes outta Boston,” He explained, “I think we’re all susceptible.”A pointed glance was sent his way from Andy. Whose smile remained, punctuated by a sip of his tea.“You noticed.” He said, not quite a question.His lieutenant huffed. Loudly.“Hard t’ fuckin’ miss.”He received a nod of agreement. They’d never discussed this little topic before. Probably because there had been no time, out on those islands.It wasn’t something easily forgotten, the absolute infatuation Eugene had shown for his captain. An adoration so blindingly obvious, it bordered on comical. Or tragic, when the realisation hit as to what it truly was. Admiration didn’t light up dark eyes like that, didn’t have a shy smile appearing at every conversation. An intelligent, well-educated young man didn’t fumble over his words, desperate to hold his commander’s attention for another moment. Not on a battlefield.Eugene had been in love with Captain Haldane. Or rather, the idea of him. It didn’t help that the poor boy hadn’t had much experience of love in his short lifetime, couldn’t recognise the barriers between them. Their age gap or their ranks or the romance currently unfolding with another man. Not to mention the one of Sledge’s own creation; kid had repressed his homosexuality so hard it was falling out his dungarees.They’d never discussed any of it. Andy cut straight to the point.“Think it’ll be a problem?”He asked Eddie and Eddie alone. He received a lazy smile and a shake of the head. Nothing more.If it didn’t concern Hillbilly, then it wouldn’t concern him. Ack Ack went back to sipping his tea. Those dress blues did come out again. Laid on the bed, stared down by Eddie with his hands on his hips.He’d accepted their place in his life; he was resigned to wearing them. Wanted to, if it would illicit the same reaction from the boarding room. Instead of embarrassment, the red piping only pissed him off these days. You’d think the Marine Corps could spare a little navy thread to spin him a nice new set, after all they’d put him through.Andy was admiring his peaked cap in their dresser mirror. His frown was thoughtful.“Y’know, to get to Alabama, you have to go through West Virginia.” He muttered.It was spoken so casually, it might have been teasing. Joke or not, it stirred the air.“You absolutely do not.” Eddie grunted, “Y’ can go through Maryland.”Cartography wasn’t a talent of his, but he didn’t need to be right. He tossed the belt he’d been fiddling back onto the mattress, beside his uniform.“Or fuckin’ Ohio.” He added bitterly.He didn’t miss what his captain was getting at. It seemed like the man wasn’t willing to push the conversation, however, and he soon appeared at Hillbilly’s side. Laying his peaked cap down, over their few belongings to be packed. His small smile was content with the answer, refusing to spoil their preparation.As he laid a kiss to his lieutenant’s temple, the man spoke.“It’s an awful place.” Eddie muttered.He wasn’t talking about Maryland or Ohio. The shock in Ack Ack’s eyes was poorly guarded, his face pulling back as if he’d been burned. This wasn’t the breakthrough he’d expected. The walls that guarded his lover were old and thick, riddled with bullet holes but impenetrable nonetheless. This shouldn’t have pierced them.When Hillbilly turned to look at him, his features were weighed down heavily. He’d aged, brow creased in a misery fitting someone twice as old. All the years of toil caught up to him in that moment.Worst of all, he looked scared.Composing himself in an instant, Andy nodded. Validation for those feelings, accompanied by his hand reaching out to thread their fingers together.“I don’t care.” Ack Ack stated simply.“I know.” Hillbilly replied. He nodded too, driving the point home, “But you gotta remember that, Andy.”Hands clasped together, he turned his attention to the bed. He picked at the sheets and swallowed. A final squeeze and Eddie pulled away, determined to resume packing. He spoke as he did so, voice quiet.“It’s an awful place.” They left in the afternoon. They passed the billboards bidding them farewell to Massachusetts.A sign welcoming them to Pennsylvania rattled by the window as evening started rolling in.Eddie drove. The cab was sticky, leaving him stripped down to his vest, jeans, and thick belt. He barely registered the highway disappearing before his eyes as the sun set. For all he hated their destination, he did enjoy a long drive. Empty cigarette packets, littering the dash, were testament to the discomfort in his gut. Ever-present and going nowhere. Eased by the tobacco but too heavy to be pulled out with the smoke.The cure was the man sitting in the passenger seat. He kept Hillbilly’s foot on the pedal, held the wheel firm and straight. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Andy leaning against the open window. Elbow up and smiling.His blond hair flashed in the evening light where it whipped his forehead. The sky was still bright and they felt like racing the setting sun. To where, Eddie would rather not recall. There was a clear finish line and it had his lip curling into a sneer; it was called Mingo County and a lot people had heard him swear he’d never return.Not anymore. Now there was an empty highway beckoning and his passenger spurring him to continue.“I’m looking forward to this ball.” Ack Ack admitted to the breeze. “It’ll be good to see the company again.”His lieutenant snorted quietly. “Gotta make it outta West Virginia first.”He felt Andy’s arched eyebrow and pointed look more than he saw it. Clearly unimpressed, the captain used his teeth to pull out a fresh smoke.“I was shot in the head by a Jap sniper.” He murmured blandly. “I think I can handle a brute with a shotgun.”He paused and reconsidered. Taking the cigarette out his mouth, he turned towards his driver to apologise.Eddie was grinning.“Yeah,” He chuckled, “He’s a brute alright.” They pulled up in the dying light, near the Maryland state line.Down a dirt track amongst the trees. Never far enough to reach the houses or farms that might lurk at the end of the road. The tries rolled to a halt and the breaks whistled pleasantly, bringing them to their hotel room for tonight. Free of charge and away from prying eyes.The doors creaked as the two men stepped out, their boots landing in the dust.Andy circled the pickup and started rearranging the bed. Blankets were laid out and their duffles pushed towards the cab, their pillows. Perfect weather to fall asleep under, ready for an early start tomorrow. While his hands busied themselves, the captain could sneak glances over the car. To the man still lingering by the hood, leaning his hip on the metal. He’s managed to bring a cigarette with him and get it lit.When Eddie pulled in a drag, there was a clear tremble in his fingers. The sun hadn’t set and the evening air was warm. No chill to be found. There was smoke tumbling down his throat and it failed to wash the words from his tongue. Bubbling like burns, leaving him swallowing thickly and glancing at Andy when he thought he couldn’t see.Hillbilly felt the terrible statement clawing at his teeth. ‘I don’t want to do this’. He wasn’t strong enough to push that brick back down.Lucky he knew someone who could. A hard swallow and he was done glancing, turning his gaze on Ack Ack pleadingly. He didn’t need to beg out loud; his expression did it for him. Those two wide, blue eyes flashed in the orange sunlight, signalling his desperation.His captain caught it. He’d always been the smarter of the two of them. Combine that with his watchful stare and nothing could get past him. (Eddie had never attempted to hide much and he certainly wasn’t trying now.)Turning back to the sun on the horizon, the lieutenant felt a warm chest pressed to his back. Tan slacks rubbing against worn jeans, a firm hand running soothingly up his side. A gentle kiss was placed on his nape. It had smoke tumbling from his lips in a steadying exhale. Careful fingers slid over his, prying the cigarette from his grip. Still touching him, stood incredibly close, Andy took a brief drag of his own. He stubbed it out on the hood, just as he’d been told he could.“Bend over.” He murmured.Even said softly, only for Eddie to hear, the command was firm. Though the lieutenant managed to remain upright, much to his own surprise. After all these years, it was a true miracle he could pause before mindlessly obeying orders. As Hillbilly turned his head, stealing a glance towards his handsome captain, he found the reason for that change. He saw the approval in Ack Ack’s eyes, how his lip curled lovingly.In their silence, they could still communicate so much. Same as ever. They really hadn’t lost anything that mattered on that island, had they.Andy’s adoring grin met Eddie’s grateful smile. He wanted the distraction and his captain was always willing to provide.The taller man stole a chaste kiss, lips barely brushing in a slow blink. Carefully, he turned back to the sunset and bent over the hood. He felt that strong hand retreat to his thigh, prying them apart as he enjoyed the warm metal against his chest. One of his wrists was taken in a firm grip, pinned carefully behind his back. His exhale was a heavy, trembling sigh as he let Andy take control. Forcing the strain and fear to bleed out of him, replaced by lustful breathing against his ear. A beautiful, exciting sound; his captain barely reigning himself in. Letting his lieutenant know just how much he was wanted.“I’m going to enjoy this.” Ack Ack murmured.He placed another kiss to his lover’s nape. The replying huff – a rough grunt that almost formed a laugh – was all he needed from Hillbilly.The rattle of that thick belt buckle coming loose was music to their ears. It wasn’t much of an obstacle under Andy’s skilled fingers, even with one hand keeping his lieutenant down. Worn jeans were tugged over strong thighs, a rumble bubbling up from Eddie’s chest as they fell around his ankles. Even summer air felt enticingly brisk on his skin, exposed to the elements for his captain’s use. Ack Ack dragged down his underwear next, leaning back slightly to admire. He didn’t whistle but his exhale was sluggish, blowing imaginary smoke from his lungs. He licked his lips.He pushed that standard issue t-shirt up his lieutenant’s back. He could see Hillbilly’s unpinned hand curled into a fist, forearm flat against the hood to support his weight. Busted boots shifted in the dirt as he spread his legs. Andy gave his ass a light smack for it.“Didn’t say spread them.” He remarked, sliding three fingers into his mouth.He caught a glimpse of that crooked smirk as Eddie spoke.“Didn’t have to.”No, he supposed he didn’t. Pulling slick digits from his lips, Andy bent back over his company. Right where they both wanted him, laying his full weight on the other man. Pinning him for real, twisting the arm behind his back and letting his breath tickle his lieutenant’s ear again. All three of them – both officers and their car – felt Hillbilly shudder.Ack Ack hummed. His fingers slid inside Eddie without permission, two at first, then three. Moving leisurely in and out, getting him comfortably prepped, teasing his hole.“I’m gonna fuck you nice and hard, okay?” The blond muttered.There was nothing quite like it, that calm authority wrapped in soothing tones. Captain Haldane could demand the gravest of sins and the order could be confused with a love confession. It was never a mystery why men would die for him, kill for him.Right now, his commands were only for Hillbilly to follow.“You can take it.” He reminded his lieutenant, still moving his fingers in and out.The pace was rough but never quick. It had Eddie swallowing hard, nails digging into his palms. His shoulder ached where his arm was forced behind his back, his stomach flat atop the car. He sucked in air through his teeth, overwhelmed with lust and something else. That same tide of emotions he always felt under Andy’s attention.“Yes’ir.” He forced out, forehead pressing hard against the metal. Shielding his face, as ever.Ack Ack hummed. He kissed his lieutenant’s neck, wanting him to feel his smile. “Good.”His fingers retreated from the man’s hole, enjoying the instinctive jerk at their removal. He shushed softly, tugging open his slacks, running his hand over his length to spread the spit. Keeping them both bent over, Hillbilly pinned between his chest and hot metal, the captain guided himself inside. He felt the slight resistance, the hiss it elicited, then the pleasure as he pushed past. Into that perfect heat that had them both groaning, stifled by their gritted teeth. Held down against the hood, Eddie’s back arched under Andy as he pressed all the way in, forcing himself deep with the first thrust. He waited like that for a moment, feeling his lieutenant shudder and gasp.Another kiss on the nape. Another whisper in the man’s ear.“You can take it.” Ack Ack reminded him. “Right?”Dragging in a shuddering inhale, Hillbilly realised he meant more than the sex. He managed to nod, laying his cheek against the hood.“Yes’ir.” He repeated.It came out weaker than he’d like but he meant it all the same.The grip on his wrist squeezed briefly. A reassuring pressure, even as Andy’s other hand grabbed the meat of his thigh. Spreading his legs wider with a painful tug, positioning his subordinate where he was required. Finished adjusting, that hand moved up to grip the back of Eddie’s neck. A warm palm over those warm kisses, pressing him down hard. Completely at his captain’s mercy, lips parted as he breathed shakily. Overwhelmed and desperate for more.With a satisfied hum, Ack Ack rolled his hips once. A short and hard thrust, testing the man beneath him. He stilled again, cock buried deep as he heard the stuttered gasp, the almost soundless noise of pleasure his lieutenant gave. It had the blond smiling again, a smirk that showed far more affection than fit his role this evening.Adjusting his feet, Andy started up a rough pace. He wasted little time picking up speed, hips jerking as he gripped his lover hard. Fingers digging into Hillbilly’s skin, using his weight on the hood as leverage. Fucking into him hard and leaving him whimpering through gritted teeth. The clench of his jaw couldn’t keep down the needy sounds, groaning as he felt another thrust rub his cock against the fender. It was pain-tipped pleasure, sensitive skin sliding over unforgiving metal. Sweaty handprints were left on the hood where his free hand clawed against it, desperate to keep himself still and where his captain needed him.The grips on his neck and wrist ached, pulling him back against Ack Ack’s cock. Short, unforgiving jerks, slapping clothed thighs to bare ones. The pickup creaked and Eddie managed to grunt out a threat between his moans.“You stain m’ car, Skipper-” He panted, words broken by a grunt of pleasure, “I’ll fuckin’ kill you-!”Andy’s head tipped forward, knocking his forehead against a quivering shoulder. He laughed loudly, breathless as he shook his head.“Watch your mouth, lieutenant.” He sneered, directly into Hillbilly’s ear, “Or you’ll be cleaning up my mess with it.”The lieutenant choked out a groan in response. Tightening his grip, Ack Ack punished the insubordination with a faster pace, making sure to slam Eddie against the hood with each thrust. Every jerk stretched him around Andy’s cock, dragging whimpers from the tall marine. Hillbilly felt the head hitting him painfully deep, rutting into the perfect spot that had his eyes rolling back. He felt himself trembling against the metal, his moan lost to rapid breathing as he was pushed towards the edge. Sweat dripped from his curls as his nostrils flared, short of air under the weight on his back and the hands holding him down and the soreness spreading up his spine. His cock scraped roughly over the metal and a sob was ripped from his chest. Open-mouthed and loud, crumbling into a clenched jaw and whimpers as he splattered the tire with cum.He felt himself tighten around Andy, the final jerks of his hips painful as he forced his cock past the protesting muscle. It drove his captain wild with him, Ack Ack shouting a snarled “Fuck!” to the trees as he slammed them together. Ass against his thighs, not a speck of space between their skin. He held them like that, emptying himself inside Hillbilly with a heavy groan. His legs twitched, matching the trembling of the body under him.They laid in the same position, one marine over the other, fighting for breath against the hood of the car. The hold on Eddie’s neck and wrist slackened, releasing him to rest more comfortably against the metal. Andy wanted those hands in the man’s curls, carding all his fingers through his love’s hair. Petting him to compliment the open-mouthed kisses between laid against his nape. Lazy, slow motions of Ack Ack’s mouth, stifled by his gasps as he came down from his high.They both groaned exhaustedly as his cock slipped free from the lieutenant’s hole, the muscles flexing instinctively. The movement had warm cum drippling down Hillbilly’s thighs.“Jesus...” Andy whispered, planting a firm kiss to the man’s hair.Showing his gratitude, even if this was exactly what was wanted. Exactly what was needed, but that didn’t matter. Every moment of pleasure Edward Jones delivered was a gift, one of them recognised that.Carefully, Ack Ack straightened himself up. To give his company room to breath properly, shifting back and placing his hands on his hips. And to admire the view, those strong legs still parted for him. It was an exquisite picture, watching his cum drip from his lieutenant’s hole, droplets landing in the dirt and in the jeans around his ankles. What a mess they’d made.A loving pat to his ass encouraged Hillbilly to push himself up. Onto his elbows first, every muscle aching from the roughness of their fuck. He had to rest his forehead against the hood briefly, blowing out his cheeks as he breathed deeply. Decompressing, realigning himself. Comforted by the knowledge that when he finally got back on his feet, his captain would be patiently waiting for him. There was no rush; Andy wasn’t going to drive away.Not trusting his shaking thighs, Eddie shuffled to one side. Hands firmly on the car, he supported himself as his back cracked and he groaned softly. Leaving his pants around his ankles, he slid down to sit on the running board. Slumped with his back to the driver door, legs parted and left limp. Letting his panting settle down, Hillbilly dragged his gaze up to meet Ack Ack’s. He sent him a tired, sated smile.He watched as Andy leant on the hood, head tilted expectantly to one side. His equally exhausted grin was tipped with some remaining lust, slacks still open and spent cock on full show. There was some unfinished business to attend to. Following his eyes, Eddie found the mess he’s left on the tire. Several streaks had landed on the fender, still liquid on the warm metal.The two men shared another look. Chest rumbling, Hillbilly chuckled. He scooted towards the fender. Keeping his eyes on Ack Ack’s, the lieutenant leant over and opened his mouth. He ran his tongue slowly over the metal, lapping up his cum leisurely. The taste was worth seeing his captain eyes roll back, closing for a moment as he groaned softly. He must like the view.He couldn’t seem to stand it either. A gentle hand quickly found Eddie’s curls, drawing his head away from his cleaning duties. He was guided towards Andy’s cock as the man stood in front of him, free hand flat against the driver window. The lieutenant hummed, pleased with the change. He much preferred this taste to his own cum.Hillbilly took his captain in his mouth, sucking eagerly on his soft length. A steady pace, rolling his head back and forth to enjoy every inch. His hands rested idly between his legs, simply enjoying the delicate skin running over his tongue. Listening to Ack Ack’s little gasps of pleasure, milking the last drops of enjoyment from the evening. When Eddie finally retreated, he kept his mouth open. Head of Andy’s cock resting on his tongue, held out as he dragged his eyes up to meet his captain’s. Those fingers continued to card lovingly through his curls, letting him know how appreciated his work was.How loved he was. The tall marine couldn’t help his smile as he saw how affectionately Ack Ack looked down at him.“You’re fantastic, Eddie.” The blond muttered.He received a quick kiss to the tip of cock in response. Avoiding the compliment but it still made Andy chuckle. He patted Eddie’s cheek and stepped away. Enough for him to shift towards the truck bed, turning around to slump down next to his company on the running board. The car creaked and dipped under two men’s weight.Leant back against the metal, the captain shook his head like he couldn’t believe his luck.“What did I ever do to deserve a man like you, huh?”Eddie grunted around the cigarette between his teeth. He took it out to speak.“A whole lot’a things.” He replied simply.He placed a second smoke between his fingers. He fished his zippo out of the pocket of this jeans. It took a little longer, trying to find the thing with his pants still around his ankles. That made two of them with their cocks out, enjoying that same intimacy they’d had during the war. Nothing much left to be embarrassed about, body wise.Hillbilly lit both the cigarettes, inhaling deeply before passing one to his captain. The man accepted with a grunt of his own, pulling in a similar drag.A moment later, Ack Ack reached out and threaded their fingers together. He squeezed comfortingly.They sat and smoked for a while, leaning on the pickup. Holding hands and looking up at the branches above. The sun was about to dip below the horizon, the orange hues growing dark as it fought to keep its head above water. Only the tips of their cigarettes were left illuminated as the stars began to appear.They climbed into the truck bed eventually. It creaked as they got comfortable, heads cushioned by their bags and a couple of blankets thrown over them both. They pulled their pants back into place through Eddie was keen to toss his belt elsewhere. He chewed his lip in the moonlight, concerned as he felt Andy’s chest press against his back, an arm wrapping around his waist. He didn’t like the man sleeping without his cushions. It would mean a terrible rest for him.But Ack Ack had assured him it was fine for one night, then they’d be in Mobile. With a real bed of some fashion and enough time to sleep before their ball.Trusting his captain more than himself, Hillbilly let his company tug them closer together, feeling a face bury itself in his hair. He heard Andy breathe deep, drawing in a lungful of the scent he’d grown accustomed to. Eddie smiled as he heard an approving hum, feeling a hand reach out and tussle his curls lovingly. He made sure to catch that hand as it retreated under the blankets, threading their fingers together again. He was rewarded with a kiss to his neck and a squeeze of the arms around him.There was no fear left to keep him up. His captain had pulled all of it out, thread by thread, and left them both satisfied and exhausted. He still knew exactly what his lieutenant needed. Eddie gave a soft sigh, grateful for every second of it.“Goodnight.” He muttered.As his eyes slipped closed, he heard Andy hum sleepily.“Goodnight, Eddie.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Their journey continued under a rising sun. Their silence was the comfortable kind.Andy’s fedora was in his lap, finger tapping against its surface. Eddie’s battered hat was squashed into his duffle in the truck bed; he feared wearing it might be a touch too respectful. Yet he’d pulled a denim shirt over his vest, which he couldn’t help but tuck in under his belt. Who he was trying to impress was a mystery to all involved. At least Ack Ack wasn’t wearing a tie under his brown sweater vest.Mingo County passed behind the window’s glass. A blur of forested hillsides, scattered with rough dirt slopes where the trees had been stripped away. Smoke trailed up from many a jilted valley, wooden mine shacks towering towards the Heavens only to stop short. They stood alone and cast dark shadows beneath them as morning pressed into afternoon. White painted letters marked them out from the run-down store fronts and farmhouses that appeared in clusters along the way. The sturdy road that bumped them over several train tracks gave way to rough dirt paths, the steering wheel spinning under Eddie’s expert hands.All of it, Andy watched pass by. Enraptured, eyes reflecting the bright sky above. It was almost peaceful, letting the two men enjoy the hum of their pickup as it rattled ever onwards.Out of the corner of his eye, Ack Ack saw Hillbilly’s fingers flex. Once, then twice, the motions growing in number and frequency.They were getting close, then.The wheels creaked as they slowed at a narrow crossroads, stopping for no one in particular. The tracks were all empty. Eddie had ducked his head, leaning forward so he might also gaze out Andy’s window.Their eyes found a tall wooden church by the roadside. Whitewashed, as was common out here – or it had been once upon a time – with a steeple hovering high above. Quite unlike the Haldane’s version, no ugly modern architecture to be found. This building was old, steadfast on the stilts that held it up above the dirt.“Wonder if the pastor’s still the same.” Hillbilly muttered.Andy’s glance his way revealed the smallest of scowls from the lieutenant, chewing over his thoughts with ease. No pain, thank God; just a man curious about what he’d left behind. Wondering if he’d returned to the same or something new, whether any of it had stood the test of time.A grunt and Eddie sat back in the driver’s seat. The engine roared as he pulled off the crossroads, turning around the corner. His captain got to follow the church with his eyes as they went, gaze lingering on the looming presence in any young man’s life.“I stopped by there-” Hillbilly said, “When I left home, I mean.”His eyes did not leave the road ahead.“Lookin’ for somethin’- Sympathy, maybe. A place to spend the night.” He explained, his eyebrows rising and falling as he judged his past self harshly, “I wasn’t yet sure the marines’d take me. Hadn’t thought much ‘bout anythin’ like that.”The fact that he hadn’t left his childhood home willingly needn’t be said. Andy had suspected as much, long ago, and had gradually pieced the story together. He was woefully unqualified to comfort such an experience, unable to imagine his parents throwing him out. Lawrence certainly was a far cry from the smoky hillsides of Mingo County.“Pastor found me feelin’ sorry for m’self amongst the pews.” Eddie snorted, “He wasn’t best pleased.”Ack Ack remained silent. He hoped his soft stare and small smile was enough. The tale saddened him deeply, yet still no words fit a response. This wasn’t for him to understand, they both knew that. So he sat and he listened and he reached out, gripping Hillbilly’s knee firmly. Those strong fingers squeezed and the lieutenant dared send his company a grin, crooked as ever.“Y’know, he said ‘God hates you, son’.” Eddie recalled, sniggering softly, “Told him the feeling’s mutual.”They both laughed. Quiet and fuelled by miserable comedy. Expecting any different for men like them was a lost cause, after all.Might as well find some humour in it. The dirt track narrowed. The pickup’s tires began to slow.They’d left the church, the intermittent store fronts, the train tracks behind. The dregs of civilisation that clung to the hillsides had faded and here, there was only dirt and smoke. They’d passed the neighbouring house several minutes ago. The trees disappeared too, shying away like the rest.Against a bare-stripped slope, the slightest incline towards a sharper peak, sat a cabin. Steam was rising from the brick chimney, the rest resigned to wood. A sheet metal roof was rusting away, one side of the porch crooked. The thin and pathetic fence around the yard marked little more than a moral boundary. There were mutts barking somewhere out of sight. Faded bedsheets billowed from the washing line, strung between two skeleton trees, failing to bloom even in the summer sun.The pickup lurched where they drove over wooden boards, bridging the track over a swallow ditch along the front of the property. As they passed, Andy glanced down out his open window. He kept his lips tightly pressed as he smelled the foul odour, the water stagnating in the bottom. Thankfully, he knew Eddie would miss the expression, eyes fixed blankly on the path ahead. Unseeing, lightless, the blue dulled to a dark and unyielding grey.He was steeling himself, they both knew it. Suffering in silence as he retreated behind that cold façade he wore so well. Tall and menacing and unfeeling, an unshakably masculine presence with a terrifying shadow to cast.Ack Ack knew him better than that. He sighed as he squeezed the man’s knee again, having never taken his hand away.It helped. Hillbilly was able to glance at him as they rolled into the yard.A single shared moment, their eyes catching and allowing a little of the burden to lift. The captain would take it all if he could.Just inside the fence line, past the non-existent gates and still some way from the door, the car came to a stop. The wheels whistled and the handbrake creaked. The engine rumbled into silence, leaving them in a terrible finality. In the quiet, Andy could hear Eddie’s sigh clearly; a controlled exhale through his nose, masking the burning heat that twisted his gut. Releasing steam, if that were possible. A low breath that revealed almost nothing of the pain and the torment and the raw anger that sat inside him.There was only one Edward Jones, and that man had nastiness rotting his insides; an anger that rested and waited within. Rotten to the core, some had called him. (He’d believed it.)And this was the cause of that rot, the place that had bred it inside of him.That hand squeezed his knee. He blinked and looked to his captain. Ack Ack wore a grave expression, searching his lieutenant’s face for a moment. When he found only that blank stare reflected back, he resisted the misery his features wished to show. He nodded instead, followed by a forced smile. Encouragement, all the way.All the way to the front door and back; Andy would be there for every step.With a quiet grunt, Eddie forced open the driver door. He was swiftly followed by his passenger, two men standing either side of the pickup. They didn’t need to discuss it.There was nothing to discuss.Fingers placed between his lips, Hillbilly whistled once. Then he buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans and lifted his chin, casually waiting for a response. Unbothered, it would appear, despite how tightly he clenched his fists beneath the denim. He could hear the movement beyond the cabin walls, the familiar creaks of floorboards and flutter of the stained curtains. There was no mistaking it; they knew he was here.Blood filled his mouth where he bit down too hard on his cheek, washing copper over his tongue. It fit horribly well. Kept him level as his gaze dragged up those broken steps, splintered wood leading him to the front door he’d left behind. Even his reminiscing wasn’t allowed; the entrance squeaked as it swung back, clattering against the wall. A brief glance inside the Jones’ household, concealed by the dark shadows of the afternoon. The burning sun was directly overhead, casting stark colours over the figure stepping onto the porch.The silence stretched unendingly, grinding moments into hours. The breeze was cool where it moved over the house, the car, the rise and fall of Hillbilly’s chest. He didn’t dare look Ack Ack’s way but knew he was staring, scowl curious as he appraised the stranger in his midst.The man at the door had a shotgun hooked under one arm, its metal rusted at the barrel rim and wood cracking at the butt. From a distance, one might guess it was a relic from the civil war. Rough hands cradled the crumbling thing like they knew a single shot would shatter it. A fraying shirt sat over a strong chest, grown fatter in the belly with the years, whilst a scowl faced the pair setting foot upon his yard.The clouded sky revealed the same brown hair Andy’s fingers had run through countless times. (The sun had retreated for their grand adventure’s climax, disappearing behind a cloud. The captain didn’t blame it.) Only the strands falling over the brute’s forehead were straight, not curled.Fitting, that the Devil would keep his hands off the heads of such men. Those doing fine on their lonesome, without a guide to brutality. The arched eyebrows and lip curled in distaste were features Andy mournfully recognised, without a shred of doubt. It stung to see.Mr. Jones lifted his chin as he spoke.“Thought you was dead.” He called.He addressed his son alone. From that vast distance of barely fifty feet, Eddie shouted back over the dirt path.“Hoped the same ‘bout you.” He replied.Cold as the grave, the two men fixed each other with hard stares and fell silent. Father and son, though only looks would indicate as much. That shotgun rattled as Mr. Jones adjusted it in his grip, the distinct sound of a cartridge in the breech. It was loaded.Hillbilly didn’t flinch. He didn’t move. He stood strong, tall, and silent. Every hair on his body alight with a quiet challenge. Daring this man to take his shot, to give him an excuse. Hand him the ticket he’d always dreamt of holding, never having the courage to accept until now. The bullet that would ignite ten years of gunfire and heartache, sending him stomping across their yard to plant a hard fist across a deserving jaw.He'd make sure his daddy didn’t get back up.The muzzle shifted upwards an inch. Eddie saw it, clear as day, his head lowering as if prepared to pounce. Dark shadows over his eyes, his scowl painfully deep across an angry gaze. Suddenly, he wanted that excuse more than ever.It vanished with the squeak of the front door. The shotgun dipped back under Mr. Jones’ arm and Hillbilly’s back was suddenly straight, dangerously close to attention. His frown fell away to humiliatingly wide eyes, guilty as his lips parted in surprise.A second figure stepped onto the porch. Barely so, a hand remaining tight on the doorframe and taking her no further. Her shawl was pulled around her shoulders despite there being no chill, protecting her slim arms from the terrible exchange she’d entered. Her skin was too smooth for the creases in her brow, the bags under her eyes. The marks of hard work but not age, a woman in her mid-forties but dressed in the clothes of a long-dead generation.Cut short to her shoulders, Andy still recognised those curls.Mrs. Jones looked quietly at her son, ignoring the husband who reached out and gripped her arm. To keep her inside or to protect her from the strange men on their doorstep, whichever suited. Neither were necessary; she stepped no closer than the doorway.Her expression was sad. It bore a hole into its receiver’s chest, Eddie’s brow crumbling as his anger evaporated. The clouds reflected in his eyes, wet but held at bay. He couldn’t blink; he couldn’t look away, even for a second.It had been so long.He didn’t dare wonder what Andy must think, seeing a mother so wildly different from his own. Mrs. Haldane’s neatly pinned hair, greying with age, and gifts of apple pie were as foreign as those islands. Hillbilly’s inhale was deep where he tried to form words. It stung as it filled his lungs, desperate to break the silence but lost for what to say.He managed to force out something.“Mama…” He greeted. It was too quiet to reach her, though his lips moved painfully around the title.She must’ve seen, because her eyes closed. Her head turned away, moving her gaze to the floor of the porch. She gave no reply.If it killed Eddie to see, he didn’t have time to dwell on it.“What you want, boy?” Mr. Jones hollered.Leave it to him to get them back on track. His son’s eyes snapped angrily his way, reignited by the reminder of the man’s awful presence.“Just-” An embarrassed swallow took Hillbilly’s throat, forced up by a glance his mother’s way, “Just here t’ see mama. And the kids.”He composed himself quickly, though he didn’t look back at his father. Didn’t want to give the man of the house the satisfaction, undeserving of the title as he was. God, how he wished Andy could reach him across the pickup’s roof.“Wanted you t’ know I was alright.” The lieutenant called, still addressing only one person on the porch.He received a glance from Mrs. Jones this time. It had his lip twisting hopefully, in what might have been a smile. Or what might have been a sob, he couldn’t tell.His daddy grew bored of the conversation, shifting his shotgun absentmindedly. Neither up nor down, just a distraction.“Kids ain’t here.” He called.Hoping they were at school would be too great a fantasy. Several of them should’ve left for good by now.Not wanting to fall back to that dreadful silence, Mr. Jones added; “Y’ sister ran off w’ some northern bastard.”For the first time, Hillbilly glanced pointedly at Andy, before moving his eyes back to his daddy.“Smart girl.” He replied.It broke whatever miserable spell had squashed his chest moments ago. The twist of disgust on his daddy’s face helped a great deal, reminding Eddie exactly of what he’d run away from. The calloused hand Mr. Jones reached down with, yanking on his thick belt, helped a great deal more. His son’s eyes lingered on the ancient leather, cuttingly familiar with the length of it. And the buckle, too.Again, Hillbilly felt that twitch of his lip. This time, he was certain it was a sneer.“Why’re you here, Edward?” His daddy cried.This charade had gone on long enough. Curtain was being called and the actors could stop pretending to be friends.A hand against his spine, cracking his back momentarily, and the lieutenant grunted.“Oh, I’m just along f’ the ride.” He jabbed his thumb Andy’s way, “But he wanted t’ meet my folks and, well. Here we are.”Mr. Jones turned his sneer on Andy. He spat softly, sending his chewing tobacco to the ground. It joined the stains on the porch.“You a faggot too?” He asked.Finally, their destination arrived. Blinking once, Ack Ack remained unphased. This wasn’t mortar fire; this wasn’t bullets raining Hell. Just a man on his porch and all the baggage this world made them carry daily. Andy’s hands found his hips as he chewed over the words, giving a short hum of consideration.“Yes.” He mused, “I suppose so.”He glanced Eddie’s way, sending him an amused smile. He was overjoyed to find pride reflected back in his lieutenant’s expression. That same small grin, crooked and handsome. The one they shared when they were in on a secret, as they had been for so many years. A glance to replace a comforting touch, to shrink the distance of a battlefield to mere inches. Eyes locked in something far greater than a silent declaration of love.Mr. Jones adjusted his shotgun again, like that could threaten them. His lip twitched, exactly as his son’s did when his temper was flaring. Taking the sight in with a glance, Hillbilly snorted. He turned back to Ack Ack, bored of this production. Like father like son.“Y’ got what you needed?” He asked.Andy kept his expression calm. “Did you?” He asked.Another glance at the porch. A silent look to the doorway, the woman standing there without a word. Her scowl weak and her eyes shining and her lips tightly sealed. Her shawl wrapped tight as her arms remained folded, guarded, unwilling to speak beyond her husband’s mouth.Her son stared back at her and found nothing different. Nothing new and everything he expected.His head dipped. It could have been a nod of acknowledgement. The weight on his shoulders brought it down to a bow of farewell.Eddie gave the goodbye he’d never gotten to. The pickup’s door swung back with a clatter.“C’mon.” He grunted.Andy didn’t need to be asked twice. For all he wanted to pretend otherwise, this truly was an awful place.Just like he’d been told it was.He sent his own look of longing towards that dark porch. The slanted roof and the crumbling steps, he committed it to a terrible portrait in his mind. Two pairs of eyes found his for the first time, and the captain desperately wished he could change the coldness of their stares. It wasn’t within his power and, with a deep breath, he accepted that. He couldn’t fight the shake of his head, the mark of his disapproval laid bare.How blind the world could be.Tapping the roof of the car sadly, Andy slid into the passenger seat. The final door slammed shut and he settled against the leather, humming unhappily as he did so. That made Eddie chuckle as he yanked on the handbrake, hands taking the wheel. It spun easily under his grip, engine roaring into life as it took them back out the way they came.They pulled out onto that dirt track and left the Jones family home in their rear-view mirror. Neither man glanced back. The silence was uncomfortable for some time.For Andy, at least, desperate to summon some healing words for his driver. Few came to mind, and those that did were woefully undernourished. The stitches for this wound take taken years to administer and there was no rushing further treatment. Whether Ack Ack’s request to visit such a place was a cruel reopening of an old scar or a life-saving antidote was up for debate.It would be another twelve hours to Mobile. The captain hoped the silence would dissolve somewhere between Virginia and their destination. He’d leave it up to his company.There was nothing in this world he wouldn’t leave with his lieutenant.“College.” Eddie said suddenly.His eyes never left the road. His scowl was deep and his stare deadly serious. He was certain – from what he caught of Andy’s stunned expression in the corner of his vision – that his passenger thought he was talking about himself.Hilarious, and dead wrong. Hillbilly would never be deluded enough to think he was cut out for any education beyond what was under an engine’s hood. Any fantasies he had about that were fleeting, GI Bills and all. He was good at what he did and what he did had no place in academia.Fearing he’d crush Ack Ack’s hopeful assumption, he glanced the man’s way to explain.“Teach college kids.”Before turning back to the road, he caught the flicker of relief behind his lover’s eyes. That they were talking, that the awful place they’d left behind hadn’t killed one of them. It wasn’t the understanding Eddie wanted, however, so he pushed onwards with his thoughts.“They ain’t children.” He explained, snorting sadly as he added; “Fuck, some of ‘em might’ve even shipped out with the rest of us.”He could feel Andy’s eyes intently, burning into his temple. Intrigued, held silent by politeness alone. It felt as fantastic as it always did, having all of Captain Haldane’s attention. Not everybody got to enjoy such a privilege.“You won’t have parents breathing down y’ neck and you won’t need t’ worry about bein’ looked at like some dangerous queer.” Hillbilly said curtly.He’d sat back in his seat. A hand on the wheel, an elbow hanging out the window. The air was warm.“Eddie, that’s…” Andy’s blink was brief and his joy breathless, “That’s brilliant.”That was it, the height of that incredible feeling. Where Captain Haldane’s face cracked into a grin, open mouthed and overwhelmed. Surprised, perhaps, that he hadn’t thought of such an idea. Understandable, since he was such a smart man.Didn’t change how Eddie’s chest lifted, filled with a deep breath. Air pulled in through a tight smile, forced down as he enjoyed the taste. A unique flavour of pride that tinged his cheeks pink, tipped with ecstasy as he heard Andy laugh. It was loud as the man’s head rolled back, his hand slapping down on Hillbilly’s thigh. The driver was jostled playfully, sneaking a glance his company’s way. He watched as Andy ran his free hand through his hair, eyes creased with that blinding smile. The yellow sun turned him truly blond, a warm light capturing his features in a chapel’s fresco. Every second Hillbilly devoted to staring was an act of worship, committing every inch to memory.Ack Ack’s gaze was soft when it returned to meet his. Blue eyes filled with adoration, a rich joy that never ceased. It tore into the lieutenant’s chest, a sharp pain that constricted his heart and threatened to crush it.He let it. He turned back to the road with a smile, enjoying that worthwhile sting.Andy loved him, despite it all. Despite the darkness of that creaking wooden porch, despite the horrors of his dreams. Despite the roughness of his hands, the rattle of his truck, the deep well of his insecurities.That wasn’t quite right. The sting didn’t come from that.It came from knowing Andy loved him because of all those things. They didn’t get the pleasure of being welcomed by Mobile’s signs.By the time they rolled over the city limits, it was dark. Stars had flickered into life and only the rattle of the trams confirmed they’d made it to their destination. Streetlamps guided Andy’s weary pointing, directing them to the curb in front of a modest hotel. Eddie was reluctant but kept silent on the matter. He spun the wheel, parked, and made no comment on the expense of such lodging.Out of pocket or not, he couldn’t resist a soft bed tonight. Exhaustion had crept into his very bones.Something about seeing his mother’s face after a decade had drawn bags under his eyes. Worse even than Ack Ack’s after a bad night’s sleep – which the truck bed definitely was for him.Hillbilly merely watched, mouth a grim line, as his captain slid the five dollars over the counter. It was just for one night, he’d assured Eddie in the car. That made it worse, the extortionate price leaving the tall marine to stare menacingly at the receptionist. Expression cold, tired, and knowingly unimpressed by the absolute scam.He'd call it daylight robbery but that wouldn’t be fair. It was night-time.Somehow, they managed to drag their bags upstairs without resorting to a crawl. Andy audibly groaned when he fumbled with the key, struggling to get their door open. So unlike him to break decorum and show his frustrations, it was a testament to how exhausted they both were. Hillbilly chuckled cruelly at the display, resting his head against the wall in defeat.It wasn’t fair, considering he’d caused this.By being born to such an awful cradle as Mingo County, the visit to which he suspected had drained Ack Ack as much as it had himself. There were places that could suck the energy from a man like a lit cigarette. Pull the very life out of him, if allowed to.Luckily, his captain wouldn’t let that happen. With a hard shove of his hip, the stuck door clattered open.“Fuck.” Andy huffed quietly, head tipped back and eyes towards the Heavens, “Thank God.”He didn’t stand aside or wave his company in; he strode over the threshold with the desperation of a dying man. That was alright, Eddie was enjoying feeling the wallpaper against his temple. A cool sensation, supporting his weight and closed eyes. He stumbled in after his love and shut the door.Their bags slid from their shoulders and slapped against the floorboards. Together, they crumpled against ones of two mattresses, feeling it dip and creak in pain. A protest against the grown men who collapsed as sleepy boys would, fully clothed and groaning. Boots were kicked off with awkward, half-hearted jerks, if only to spare the sheets. Lying on his back, Hillbilly’s eyes were closed even as his belt buckle rattled free, sliding from his jeans to be tossed childishly across the room.Nothing else was attempted. The soft snoring told him Ack Ack had already fallen asleep beside him.That had Eddie smiling crookedly, cracking open one exhausted eye to glance over the man. He snaked an arm under his captain – still wearing his brown sweater vest and tan slacks. He drew their bodies closer, feeling Andy mumble in his slumber. Blond hair shifted against the pillow as he curled into the heat he felt, rolling onto his front and nestling his face in the lieutenant’s neck. Carefully, Hillbilly adjusted the pillows around his love, building that familiar foxhole to support him. The tall marine used his own body where he ran out of material.Finally, sliding both arms around his captain’s waist, Eddie drew in a deep breath. He overwhelmed himself with that perfect scent he loved.With that warm weight pressed against him, his eyes slipped closed again.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
They awoke to bright sunshine over Mobile.A beautiful, yellow glow, with barely a cloud and the faintest of breezes. A perfect day.With a hand on the windowpane, the other drawing back the curtain, Eddie was struck by the view. A foreign city shone back in the daylight.For once, he could enjoy it.He’d been to many places, one and all on the Marine Corps’ dime. Most of them familiar shores, some less so. Certain expectations remained for such visits. Do exactly as he was told, keep his head down, pack up his shit and move on when called. Ignore the blood on his boots or the blisters on his hands or the screaming that woke him in the night.Never appreciate the view.He could do that here.He felt Andy’s hand slide over his back, squeezing his nape. A yawn came before the man pressed a kiss to Hillbilly’s ear, humming sleepily. It had the taller of the two chuckling, turning his head to capture those lips with his own.“Got any plans?” He muttered against Ack Ack’s cheek, pressing gentle kisses to the stubble there.They had an afternoon to kill before the ball. This was their holiday, after all.The pill bottle rattled as the captain tipped the medication into his palm. He chuckled, a sweet hum of confirmation.“A few.” Being men from far away, they flexed all the expected attractions that tourists were known to love. They wandered downtown for breakfast, the hearty southern kind they’d been promised. Andy paled at the biscuits and gravy, but a generous helping of steak and eggs fixed his polite grimace. Worth hearing him snort around his food, watching his company pour the rejected biscuits down his throat with a satisfied ‘Ah!’.They smacked their lips and laughed, the sound carrying them onwards through Bienville Square. It turned to howls as Eddie splashed his captain when he attempted to admire the fountains. There was a band practicing on the bandstand, providing music to the ridiculous chase that ensued – Hillbilly’s hands cupped around a scoop of freezing water and Ack Ack begging for mercy.Mobile Bay sparkled for them, reflecting the golden sun above. They strolled down the pier with their ice cream cones – two scoops each this time. Pecan and strawberry respectively. Maybe it wasn’t as good as Lawrence’s, but who was to say. They spent a moment watching the boats sail by. Then onto Monroe Park, which offered the pinnacle of it all; a somewhat shrivelled amusement park on the waterfront.Eddie’s eyes were alight with wonder, flashing from under his curls. His quiet admission that he’d never been on a rollercoaster before averted his eyes, but only for a second. There were two hands securely on his shoulders and an enthusiastic captain steering him towards their new destination. Pinned by the seat bar, the strangled shrieks from behind Hillbilly’s tightly pressed lips fit strangely with his imposing stature. Repressing his screams as he held on for dear life, beside a man letting out whoops of joy. Strawberry ice cream splattered the grass behind the ride once they were back on solid ground. It had them both laughing again.Being queers, they didn’t have to draw a meaningless line and stop there. They took the tram across town, just because Andy asked if they could. He wanted to see Duffee Oak, a two-and-a-half-century old tree. And it was just that, a big old tree. But the captain enjoyed it, hands on his hips beneath the shade of its many limbs. That was what mattered; his smile was so impressed and full of awe. Strange, perhaps, considering the feats of human cruelty he had seen. Strange, and worth preserving.They had to cling to the back railing of the return tram, the vehicle packed with dock workers heading home. Pressed close against each other, Hillbilly’s back to Ack Ack’s chest. Knuckles white against the metal rail and certainly not just to keep them upright. Their smirks were small and hinted at their shared secret, every jostle of the tram forcing their bodies closer.They were sticky from the heat when they reached their stop, searching for another distraction. Evening hadn’t set in, so they sidled over to Saenger Theatre. Andy was similarly enraptured by the extravagant twenties architecture of the building – less so by the portrait of Robert E. Lee in the foyer. They’d missed the opening of Road to Utopia; they slid into seats in the back corner. One of them was enraptured, for the most part, until he felt his captain’s hand sliding over his inner thigh.Eddie’s scowl carved a deep disapproval into his features, sent directly to the seat beside his own. His put-upon sigh didn’t stop him palming those tan slacks, hands shoved into unbuttoned pants so they could squeeze each other’s cocks.The satisfied sigh Ack Ack released to the ceiling when he came was exquisite. (His lieutenant gave more of a grunt.) Head tipped back against the seat for a moment before he tidied up their attire and moved to stand. He stopped when he caught Hillbilly’s eyes still fixed on the flickering screen. With the most adoring expression, the captain settled back into his seat. They stayed until the credits.And as they wandered back to their hotel, in need of a shower and their dress blues, Eddie felt relief fill every exhale.Every breath drawn from him was warm, as afternoon tipped into evening. Side by side, their hands would brush occasionally. Though they could never grasp them together, the occasional touch of skin had them grinning, not grimacing. Their cigarettes kept their fingers occupied, adding sweet nicotine to that relief that washed over the lieutenant.They’d earned this.He’d earned this.Philosophy was not a pursuit of his; he wouldn’t attempt to calculate whether the sacrifices he’s made held up to the joy he was living. Whether the lives he’d taken from others were appropriate payment for the pleasure. Whether anything he’d done was righteous enough to allow him into this Heaven, whether anything he’d done was right at all.He could only speak for himself. And Eddie had spent so long floating on the surface of misery, working hard just to keep his head above water.He didn’t know if he’d earned the hand that had reached out to him, with a marine-issue watch on the wrist and a light dusting of blond hair up the arm. All he knew was it had pulled him onto dry land.Exactly where Hillbilly wanted to be. Where he deserved to be. Captain Andrew Haldane fixed the collar of his dress blues in the hotel mirror.Gold and silver pins sparkled, that polished black belt across his broad chest. With a pretty peak cap tucked under his arm, his combed hair was on full display. It fell neatly over his scar. His jaw had the barest hint of stubble and the dark of his jacket brought out his eyes. He was so handsome.When he turned around, he sent a smile across the room. A comfortable, easy smile. One that bled security, let the world know nothing was wrong.Eddie got to receive that smile.Over a quiet snap as he clipped his white belt into place, under calloused fingers. Over a different uniform, one with red piping. An enlisted man’s uniform. Contradicted only by the silver lieutenant’s bars, rather than the person wearing it. Curly hair, a strong nose, and the hidden scars of a long, difficult journey.When Ack Ack sent him that smile, he lifted his chin to meet it.Hillbilly sent back a crooked grin.His hand was taken by his captain’s, pressed to his lips in a simple romance. Their fingers squeezed together, arms swinging between them for a moment. Andy led him out their hotel room, towards the ball they’d been personally invited to.A perfect end to a perfect day. Even from the cab, they could hear the music blaring.The wheels whistled, pulling them into quite the spectacle. Strings of brightly coloured lanterns illuminated the large colonial-style building, flashing over the stone steps and combed gravel. The grass lawn was lined with comfortable wicker chairs; the balcony ran the entire length of the top floor. Through the ornate railings, men in suits were chatting, women spinning. All freshly painted white, splashes of colour blooming from the vases of flowers perfectly positioned about the place.It was grand. The extravagance reflected in Eddie’s eyes as he took it all in.He fiddled with the white gloves in his hands, casting his gaze over the lanterns. Behind him, Andy tipped their driver, giving a half-salute as the car pulled away. He came to stand beside his companion, shoulders brushing in the warm night air. His hands were less distracted, thumbs hooked into the pockets of his slacks. Having probably seen such events before, Ack Ack’s expression was more serene. It lacked the roundness of Hillbilly’s eyes, the tiny scowl that fluttered against his brow as the awe turned to embarrassment.This was no place for a hill country man, rough around the edges and rougher still in his mannerisms. Southern hospitality might tolerate such a presence, but it would never welcome it.Andy, studying his company’s features, took hold of his upper arm. Eddie glanced his way, expecting the reassurance he knew would always be there.Except, from his captain’s parted lips, a different voice echoed.“Captain Haldane!”Both officers turned, caught like deer in the headlights. Up the steps, towards the large open doorway, the milling crowd parted for the approaching young man. Along came a pair of dress shoes, a pretty black suit, and a crop of red hair.Hand slipping from Hillbilly’s arm, the two marines found their expressions softening.“Eugene.” Ack Ack greeted happily.Eugene almost skidded to a halt in the gravel, he was marching so fast. His smile was elated, lighting up his dark eyes. His hand lifted to salute but it was awkward, all three men finding it at odds with his civilian attire. After a moment’s hesitation – and an expectantly raised eyebrow from Andy – the redhead offered his hand to shake.It was taken with pleasure, grasped firmly in both the captain’s hands. He grinned widely.Neither officer missed the flush that erupted over Sledge’s cheeks.It was ignored by the mortarman, who turned to Eddie instead, as if his fingers weren’t still being warmed by Captain Haldane’s skin.“Lieutenant Jones.” He chirped, “I’m so glad you could come!”Funny, he still looked to Hillbilly as he said it. With a slanted grin, the tall marine grunted. Almost a laugh, surprised by the sincerity across the young man’s features. It refreshed him, soothed his nerves to know he was truly wanted.The lieutenant offered his hand. Sledge took it enthusiastically. What a ball it was.The band was playing live. The music was fantastic and loud. The drinks swirled around, carried on silver trays by white-wearing butlers.Two of which Andy scooped up in either hand, a graceful motion topped with a gentlemanly gratitude. He twirled on the heels of his dress shoes, sliding neatly back into the conversational circle. A group consisting of himself, his lover, Romus Burgin, Bill Leyden, and Jay De’Leau. Three of which he had been overjoyed to find here, healthy and happy. They all looked very handsome in their dress blues, strapping young men who had a shot with any of the young ladies adorning the dancefloor.Yet, here they all were, standing off to the side. A huddle devoid of female company. Reasons varied, of course, from already established relationships to a distaste for southern girls. (Bill’s words.)Still, it spoke volumes. Particularly with them all marked out as marines.Andy handed one dainty glass to Eddie, who inspected it as he had the last four. Holding it up to the light, scowl disgruntled by the thing. Such a fragile little cup, he could shatter it simply by clenching his fist. That, and it held a pitiful amount of alcohol. Champagne mostly, with a punch in the third glass that had Hillbilly audibly growling.Just as he had with the last four, the lieutenant knocked the drink back like the remains of a bad whisky.He always caught the endearing smile and tiny shake of Andy’s head it caused.“You’d think the Aussies would be more fuckin’ grateful.” Bill was saying, unapologetically shoving an entire canapé into his mouth at once, “Considering we kept the Japs outta Darwin.”“It’s not the Australians that’re the problem, Bill.” Burgie was explaining, his thick eyebrows raised high and his laugh barely contained, “It’s the U.S immigration rules.”They were talking about Florence. Credit to him, Romus was still working hard to marry the woman he’d fallen in love with during the war. Few men would battle the American border for someone they hadn’t yet married. But then, this man had battled worse.“I have a lawyer for an uncle, if that’s any help.” Ack Ack offered, carefully sipping his champagne. He glanced Hillbilly’s way and added; “Mother’s side.”He received an acknowledging grunt. He grinned.“You lookin’ for another drink, Jay?” Burgie asked, noticing Jay attempting to peer around him.The young man wasn’t subtle, craning his neck to look at something across the room.“Wha-? Oh, no.” He replied, big eyes turned on Romus. “It’s… It’s just Eugene, is all.”Unsubtly being highly contagious, the entire group turned to follow Jay’s gaze. A simple shift of the neck for Burgin and Hillbilly, a full peer from Bill, standing on his tiptoes without shame. Ack Ack at least looked out the corner of his eye, taking another slow sip of his drink to cover the action.They all saw the same thing.Eugene Sledge, in his civilian suit, lingering by the entrance door. On the opposite side of the room, they could still make out his lack of smile. An expression of distant thoughts, the twirling couples of the dancefloor failing to captivate him. He’d left their conversational huddle some time ago, excusing himself with a need to talk to his good friend Sidney.Eddie felt his brow furrow. He wasn’t sure why.“Why isn’t he wearing his dress blues?” Leyden asked bluntly.“I didn’t want to ask…” Jay murmured.Each of them took a mouthful of their drinks. Excluding Hillbilly, who could only roll the empty glass in his hand.“Some guys don’t-” Burgin sent his captain a brief glance as he searched for the correct word, “Feel so good in ‘em.”Good old Burgie, ever respectful. He received an appreciative tilt of Andy’s head, a fraction of a nod.“He’s probably disappointed, is all.” Jay said.He received a raised eyebrow from Ack Ack, demanding explanation. He got it from Romus.“Snafu didn’t show.” He muttered into his glass, finishing off the last of his drink.Everyone looked back towards Sledge. All except Eddie, who’d never turned away.He’d kept his eyes on Eugene, who was now fumbling to get out his pipe. Once he’d found it, he straightened up off the wall. He turned and stepped beyond the open door, disappearing down the steps.The lieutenant heard Ack Ack inhale. Slowly, deeply, holding it for a second. It was released as silently as possible.Tapping his glass absentmindedly, the captain took a moment to consider. Then he turned back to the circle, sending them all that award-winning smile.“Will you excuse me a moment.” He said, already stepping away.It wasn’t a request.He was stopped by a hand on his upper arm. The group fell quiet, watching as Hillbilly took hold of the man. Two officers locked eyes, surprise barely concealed in Andy’s gaze. A wordless conversation flashed between them, the tiniest flicker of their features enough to convey a lifetime of prose.Without saying a thing, Eddie held out his empty glass. His captain took it obediently.“I’ll go.” He muttered.Wetting his lips, Ack Ack hummed softly. Coming to terms with the order, chewing and digesting it. It was difficult to relinquish responsibility, but it wouldn’t be right to keep. Not when Hillbilly so clearly wanted it.With a final glance around the circle and a nod, the lieutenant stepped away.He wove around the dancefloor, dodging other attendees ungracefully but effectively. He snatched up two more of those punch glasses on his way, reaching the door. Warm night air filled his lungs, dress shoes clattering down the stone steps rapidly. The gravel’s crunch was relieving.He didn’t come out here for himself. That didn’t mean it wasn’t where he’d rather be, stifled by the extravagance of the interior.His pace slowed as he approached the second set of steps. Hidden behind a flower arrangement, Eugene had perched himself on the low stone wall, smoke already trailing from the bowl of his pipe. Out of range of the chatter, beyond prying eyes.Eddie stood at the top of the steps, waiting to be noticed. He cast a terrifying shadow in the lantern light.Sledge glanced up at him. Those deep, dark eyes looked guilty, quickly averting back to the grass.“Lieutenant Jones.” He greeted cheerfully, his smile weak.He was trying his best.Hillbilly grunted. He lent down and offered one of the drinks.“Y’ can cut that shit right now.” He said gruffly.It took the redhead by surprise, scrambling awkwardly to take the glass held out for him. The punch splashed about and he released an embarrassed huff.“Sorry.” He replied. “Old habits.”He got a snort in return. He watched his company sit down on the top step.“You ‘n me both.”Another glass was knocked back. Eddie grimaced. He leant over the stone rail and spat on the grass. No use pretending anymore, they were out of sight. And, to his satisfaction, the motion had Eugene smiling. Chuckling, even, though he tried to stifle it.Such a familiar marine display. Hillbilly sent him his crooked grin.“You ain’t wearin’ y’ blues.” He said.Chewing his pipe, Sledge seemed to move his response about his mouth. When he spoke, he spoke to his glass.“I didn’t think anyone else would be wearin’ them.” He replied.Eddie sent him a cruel look. Hard and cold and cutting right through his bullshit. As perhaps the oldest man at this ball, he could smell a lie when he heard one.The redhead glanced up at the lanterns. He exhaled before correcting himself.“I don’t think I…” He swallowed, “Will ever put on a uniform again.”A soft clink. The lieutenant placed his empty glass down beside him. Elbows on his thighs, he threaded his fingers together between his knees. Pressing his thumb to his palm, settling himself. A strong, masculine presence. Silent and deadly and so, so comforting when you knew him to be on your side.When he turned back to Eugene, his stare wasn’t cold. His silence coaxed the young man to speak; there was no better listener.It took a while, before Sledge could meet his eyes again. But when he did, he found exactly that; someone who wanted him to speak. Someone who wanted to hear.A second, softer clink. The mortarman set his glass down on the bottom step. His pipe clicked against his teeth and he wet his lips.“Why do your blues…?” He trailed off.His glance over Hillbilly’s uniform indicated what he meant. The lieutenant cracked his neck, smile twisting into a chuckle.“’cause I weren’t always an officer.” He said.Strong fingers took hold of the ancient blue wool. Pulling it away from his chest where he could look down on it, running the red piping between his fingers. His features no longer held the distain they once had.“Now, I’m proud of m’ commission.” He explained, “An’ the marines could’a spared a lil’ thread for some officer’s blues, since they spent all that money in China.”Sledge scoffed. Their eyes met and they sniggered together. It wasn’t a lie. Sometimes it helped to poke fun at the petty things, the little annoyances that sat atop a larger, heavier ordeal.“But…” Eddie continued, voice quiet and firm, “These’re still mine.”His finger tapped his chest. Over his heart and the bullet scar that protected it. Eugene’s gaze clung to the motion, throat bobbing as he swallowed.“Can’t change who we are.” Hillbilly muttered.Those two dark eyes flickered back up to his. They weren’t talking about uniforms anymore.They shared another beat of silence. Alcohol and a hot night warmed their skin, enjoying the safety of staring into each other’s eyes. Watching the features of a kindred spirit; someone who knew and who cared and who understood.Eddie desperately hoped that was clear. That he understood, more than just the war.Chewing his lip, Sledge finally spoke. It took two tries, opening his mouth and then closing it again. With a patience worthy of his lover, Hillbilly waited in perfect silence.“Captain Haldane…” Eugene began, fiddling with his pipe, “He wanted to… apologise to me.”The lieutenant hummed.“That he did.”“There’s nothing for him to apologise for.” The redhead explained.His company nodded. “No, there ain’t.”A thousand words unsaid hung sadly in the moonlight. He was left to watch them dangle, gaze moving up to the stars he was becoming familiar with again. Sleeping outside so often, he knew those of the pacific better than those of his homeland. These lights above them were foreign, but comfortingly clear.He'd get used to them again.“I’m sorry, Eugene.” He said.The sky still reflected in his eyes, he caught that sudden flash of red hair. How the young man turned to him sharply, struck with confusion by the statement. Hillbilly blinked.“I got m’self taken off the line.” He mused. He spoke to the sky, the stars, the darkness beyond the Heavens. “I left Andy alone…”It sounded like a confession.To whom he wanted to apologise became foggy. Swirling faces in the dust of broken islands, crimson waters rolling in with the tide. Rolling years of heartbreak into a final climatic explosion, of dirt and gore and a final, heavy blink of his eyes.Eddie blinked. He looked back at Eugene.“Think y’know what that’s like y’self.” He said, “Havin’ someone you wake up to in the mornin’. A man you lean on- You rely on, above all else… who suddenly ain’t there.”He found realisation reflected in brown eyes. No shock, merely confirmation of a suspected truth. And, beyond that, something far more important.Relief.The very same sensation that had washed over Hillbilly. A cab was rolling into the drive when Andy sauntered down the entranceway steps.His composure kept his wandering gaze casual, as if agitation wasn’t twisting his gut. Eddie and Eugene had been gone some time, left alone without an escape route for either of them. Two wounded veterans in a loud and unfriendly environment.Finally glancing over the second set of steps, Ack Ack caught a crop of curly hair in the lantern light. He exhaled steadily, calming himself as best he could. Nobody noticed the shift, could only see his confident strides as he straightened his dress jacket. His shoes crunched on the gravel as he approached.Suddenly, he stopped. His footfalls fell silent.Neither marine had noticed him. Indistinct chatter drifted from their mouths, their conversation flowing freely towards the night sky. The possibilities of their discussion were endless, though Andy imagined it to be important. He had rarely seen Hillbilly hunched over so seriously, features held in such soft concern.Perhaps they were addressing the many elephants in the room. The invisible wounds they were all nursing that drip, drip, dripped onto the fancy dancefloor and made everyone else uncomfortable. The letters they’d exchanged, the deep trench of guilt that had kept the mortarman and his captain apart. Or maybe the deepest, darkest depths of their shared interiors; the fact that neither man had been dancing with any woman present. And never would.From the angle of their faces, turned just enough for him to see, the captain could recognise their expressions.Both men were smiling.As he watched the pair talk so sincerely, Andy felt his shoulders sink. A tension drained away, his lips curling into an adoring grin.What a raw display of Eddie’s gallant character and beautiful soul. One day, the world might recognise what lie beneath his hard exterior.The cab that had been approaching tooted its horn. It disturbed the conversing pair, both men peering over the steps to see what had happened. They found Ack Ack with his hands raised, graciously stepping aside for the vehicle to roll to a stop. He backed up a few paces, hands retreating to the pockets of his slacks. Standing beside the flower arrangement, he could turn his head Hillbilly’s way. Who looked up at him with a vulnerable expression and stars reflected in his eyes.He was relieved when his captain grinned down in return.The cab door opened and shut, its passenger stepping out on the entrance side. Out of view, until the car shifted into reverse and drove back the way it came. It left the newcomer’s back to them, peaked cap in hand and dark hair flashing under the lanterns.Unmistakable dress blues sat heavily on his shoulders. Corporal chevrons adorned his sleeve.The two officers shared a glance. Though Eddie didn’t stand, he shifted to the side, allowing Sledge to pass by. The redhead had stood to get a better view, his shoes hesitantly climbing the stone steps. When he reached the top, his pipe hanging limply by his side, he spoke.“Merriell?”The newcomer’s shoulders tensed. A moment of fear, of silence, of fight or flight.Then he turned. Illuminated by the building behind him, Merriell presented an easy smirk and tired stare, like nothing was amiss. The way he clenched his cap gave him away, though his superiors expected they were the only ones to notice.“Hey, boo.”Eugene bristled. His face flushed and his fists clenched and his lips parted. Every sign of every emotion, a shattering and rejoicing and melting of his heart all at once. Moving his tongue about his mouth, he searched for a reply. The pause settled him as he watched Shelton falter, his visitor’s dark eyes averting to the floor.A look of shame.It had Sledge exhaling sluggishly. Forgiveness was pulled in with his inhale.“You’re late.” He huffed, starting to march across the gravel.“I showed up, didn’t I?” Merriell drawled, not one to be outdone.Eugene snorted in annoyance.“You sure did.” He agreed.By then, he’d reached his companion. The awkward hand Snafu tried to offer was ignored; the redhead threw his arms around the man’s shoulders. A one-sided embrace, as Shelton’s feet stuttered to keep them upright. A moment where two onlookers held their breath, fearing an unrequited greeting.Carefully, Merriell wrapped his arms around Eugene’s waist. They squeezed each other tightly, briefly, then let go. They remained close.Two officers breathed sighs of relief.The mortarmen began bickering over the late arrival, voices returned to their usual demeaner. If they had harsher topics to discuss, they could do so later. Alone, when the party had subsided. For now, Sledge ushered them inside – sparing a brief glance back at his former company. Andy gave him a gracious smile, bowing his head and indicating towards the entrance. Go on. They could all talk again later, there was plenty of time on these shores.With a grateful nod, Eugene continued inside, Merriell in reluctant tow.Outside, two officers were left alone.The sky was no longer empty and dark. The music drifted under the glow of the lanterns.A peaceful night in a peace-ridden country.Sitting down on the top step, Ack Ack pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He freed two with his teeth, leaning towards the lighter Hillbilly already had in hand for them. They flickered into life, the captain taking a drag from both before holding one out for his lieutenant. It was taken in the man’s lips with a grateful grunt.Two smoke trails, mixing together as they wafted ever upwards.Their knees brushed against each other, their shoulders pressed close. They both watched the stars and enjoyed their tobacco.“Never seen someone happier to have a uniformed man arrive at the door.” Andy mused.Eddie gave a soft chuckle. He patted his love’s knee, sending him a knowing glance.“I have.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
For the longest time, Eddie had believed he deserved to be nothing more than ‘Hillbilly’ to anyone.Not to his comrades in the Marines, not to the company he enjoyed after hours, not to the civilians he passed by. It was easier that way. Simplified his complex and unsatisfactory existence into one unavoidable statement.Because Edward Allison Jones was a man of ill repute.Academic, intellectual types would assure him that this wasn’t his fault. He’d been born to the social class designated to the description, homegrown in the cultural cradle of a specific mountainous region. His childhood had cultivated his disgrace in these inevitable birth rights; his second life in the Marines fed it to the fullest.Combining all his vices lived up to exactly the portrait of a man fathers closed their doors to, mothers covering their children’s eyes for fear that seeing him might turn them equally rotten. Every unpalatable trait; the liberal cussing and the lack of education and the violent resolutions and the drawling accent. The unruly curls and the busted boots and the casual draining of every alcohol reserve within reach. The battlefield commission and the noisy second-hand pickup and the estranged family. The hot and heavy fucking, the lovers as numerous as waves and twice as short-lived. The unspoken secrets, the slim wallet, the battered guitar. The never-in-church, always-in-the-bar.The fighting, fucking, fleeing, forward-marching Edward Jones.He agreed with this deduction, this classical reading of the novel that transcribed him. Normally, that would be enough to close the book and move on. Most people did just that. Not exactly a stroke of literary genius.Until Andrew Haldane pulled him off the crumbling shelf of some marine’s makeshift library, and started scribbling notes in the margins. Never changing a word or crossing out a line. Commentary only. The man had never made a single attempting to change Hillbilly.Soft pencil strokes made neat remarks, reading between the lines like nobody had ever bothered to.‘Have you seen how Eddie gazes at the sunset?’ One note might say, ‘I wish I could recognise the beauty in simple things like he can.’ They didn’t make it to Missouri. But then, they never needed to.Their time in Massachusetts was God-sent. Their apartment bloomed with memories they treasured; their trips away made special by their return to a familiar home. It was their home, for the years they spent in it. The petunias flowered over and over; their mountain of pillows saw many a replacement. There were scuff marks where they’d place their shoes by the door. They’d had to replace the mattress twice by the time it came to move on.Joyful, that was the departure. No sad sentiment clung to the walls.Because Andy came home one day with a letter in his hand and a tremble in his lip. He shut the door so quietly; he stood in the narrow hallway and glanced up the stairs. His eyes were wider than they should be.As if he’d never seen the tall man carefully stepping down towards him, pace ground to a crawl as he searched for answers in that vulnerable expression. As if Eddie’s frown, flashing behind his spectacles, was anything other than concern.“Andy?”He reached the bottom step. The letter trembled, its poorly resealed form held up for emphasis. Andy huffed out a laugh, breathless and broken.“The college came back.” He gasped. “I- I got it.”Edward Allison Jones had never had a dream of his own.His dreams were dark and his goals quick. He wanted to fight and fuck and forward-march, until the end hit him in the face like an entrenching tool. There were no plans beyond the practical and there were no fantasies he hadn’t quashed.That didn’t mean he didn’t recognise it, the joy that cracked Andy’s expression and tore down his calm, collected features. How his chest lurched and he threatened to choke himself, had Hillbilly not run forward and grabbed him around the waist. They embraced like dying men; Ack Acks hands in those curls he loved and arms squeezing him painfully close. He was hoisted up into the air and spun around.Their loud, whooping laughter echoed through the house.Eddie didn’t need a dream; he had Andy. Such a kind, capable captain could carry enough dreams for the both of them. In 1961, Andrew Haldane became the newest professor of history at Earlham College, Indiana.He didn’t quite have the PhD he wanted yet, but it was in the works. (The subject of which was kept close to his chest, lest it upset the aging academics he shared coffee with inside the staff room.)Some might call him too young for the job at forty-four. Nobody would say it to his face.No, his friendly smile and wave from the passenger seat of a blue pickup would kill the criticism. Such a pleasant man didn’t deserve such petty comments. Especially since he was a captain, years ago. A glance at the scar about his forehead would tell all you needed to know about that.That pickup’s engine would roar and beaming students would disappear in the rear-view mirror. A long drive home across empty roads would replace them. A modest farmhouse, whitewashed wood, and a sturdy porch would eventually appear on the horizon. Tires would squeak on the dirt track and the chickens in the coop would start squabbling for a better view. No American flag hung over the doorway.It wasn’t Missouri, the gentle slopes and swaying trees that of Indiana. But it was somewhere big. Somewhere you had to drive to. Somewhere nobody knew their names.Something like that.The handbrake was pulled back with a squeak and Andy slid out the passenger side. A joyful skip in his step drew him towards his beautiful home, clattering up the steps with glee. There were petunias blooming around the porch.His driver, one side of his overalls hanging loose, remained for but a moment. Just to collect some parcels from the footwell. Then he slid out the car.He walked it, from the spot where his boots hit the dust.Over the drive that boasted a slanted mailbox, filled with scribbled notes from loved ones. His new t-shirt caught on the pickup’s doorhandle as he went, freed with a snort; there was a radio already playing somewhere inside. The hassle of navigating the city roads all fell away behind him – without teachers to greet or a lover to find, it was just white noise.Red, white, and blue noise.He walked it, from the edge of their yard all the way through the front door. Paper-wrapped groceries brushing against his chest, following in the footsteps of the man he’d driven with. All his effects, personals, greeted him beyond the screen door. If they were heavy, he couldn’t tell. The only weight in his arms was the groceries, placed on the wooden dining table.When Glenn Miller began to waft over the room, he knew he’d come to the right place.Eddie chuckled softly. His pockets were emptied, spectacles and crumpled wrappers tossed beside this week’s food. He’d get them later.Right now, he was busy with the man hanging up their jackets. The one who twisted the dial and turned up that sweet serenade, who approached to snake an arm around his waist. All windows covered by sheer curtains, Andy leant in without hesitation.And Eddie didn’t hesitate to meet him halfway. Their lips pressed together, chaste and warm, their smiles getting in the way. Blue eyes locked, gentle palms running over clothed skin.“Good day?” Ack Ack asked.There was a hand moving over Hillbilly’s jaw, fingers catching on barely visible stubble. The pad of a man’s thumb moving to brush the corner of his mouth, reminding him just how much he’d like take that digit between his lips. Just how lucky he was to even be allowed to consider such a thing.“Oh, that’s real personal.” Eddie chuckled, persuaded to keep talking by the warm tingle of his skin moving against Andy’s fingers, “Sensitive information.”From his position against the table – arms around each other’s waists and a familiar face so close – he could drink in his captain's amused smile. Handsome features illuminated even in the dying sunlight, the tiny slivers of orange a blessing where they broke through the curtains.“I suppose so.” Ack Ack admitted. His smile didn’t falter. “But I’d like to know. Call it research- For my paper. Statistics from Milroy, Indiana.”Knowing the topic he was writing on, it wasn’t too far a stretch. It still had Hillbilly shaking his head.“Well, Professor Haldane-” He’d said, trying so very hard not to smile, “a’ Milroy, Indiana-”A loud, handsome laugh complimented the music floating over the air; Andy was hoisted up into his lieutenant’s arms, supported with his legs around the man’s hips. Upheld without a care, a strong grip pulling their chests flush. Bare feet carried them away from the table, Eddie’s grunt complaining of his limited view. His captain had taken his face in both hands, pressing them into a heated kiss. It made for poor coordination in heading towards the hall, worse still in attempting to ascend the stairs.That was alright. There was a forgiving mattress upstairs waiting.Outside, the sun was setting. A gorgeous orange, not a trace of red in sight. Birds chirped quietly where they swept over the fields.A peaceful evening in a peace-ridden country.