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Special Forces Chapter XXXXIV: Vaterland

May 1992, Berlin, Germany

Vadim liked the very civilian feel of the car he'd rented. It smelled new, no scratches, dents, it was as shining and clean as only well-maintained rental cars were. Listening to the radio, some host talking about politics, taxes, and he was listening and not listening, following his own thoughts and catching only the gist of it.

When he got into Berlin, he found his way to the airport eventually, parked the car, and went to the arrivals terminal. Not far away from where he'd seen Hooch vanish through customs. A much more relaxed looking Hooch who had recovered well from the injuries and would be okay in a couple days - perfectly in time for returning to base. Vadim remembered the awkwardness of seeing him go. They'd got much closer during the week. The days of the prisoner game, and when that was over, the remaining days which seemed to be shopping, talking, 'vanilla' sex, jogging, cooking, and generally feeling comfortable.

Vadim bought a newspaper and sat down in the waiting area, watching the list of planes get shorter, the time tick by while he worked his way through written German.

Finally, the plane from America was announced on the screen, with the luggage now in the baggage claim area. It took another twenty minutes at least before the first passengers came out through the gates. Some time after the first passenger, a man appeared. Tall, fit, tanned towards a gleaming bronze, dark hair with grey temples fairly long and rather wild and yet so obviously tamed by a very skilled cut. Shades on top of his forehead, he had a bag slung over one shoulder and pulled a suitcase behind him. Dressed in clothes that seemed simultaneously new and most attractively rumpled, a dark olive jacket with an understated and sporty square cut thrown over an off-white linen shirt that did all it possibly could to show off the tanned smooth expanse of his throat, with the first two buttons open. He didn't seem aware of the way an expensively dressed lady was walking behind him, staring at the way the dark brown leather trousers with their dull surface were clinging to his buttocks. Brand new ankle boots on his feet, they had a certain air of Wild West about them. He stopped, patted down the inside of his jacket, before pulling out a packet of American cigarettes, and walking on.

Vadim folded the newspaper, enjoying the sight. Matt's signature all over Dan. The different style, the haircut, and, of course, the ease and calm with which Dan was beginning to head out, probably looking for a taxi. Vadim stood and walked fast behind him, moving carefully as not to warn him too early, then moved closer. "Handsome stranger, do you need a ride?"

"Hey!" Dan flew round, startled for a second, his face immediately lit up with a giant grin. "Crap, Russkie, I'm getting old. My reflexes must be shot to shit." He let go of the suitcase, dropped the bag onto the ground and embraced Vadim, pulling him tight. He didn't kiss, no matter how much he wanted to. Keeping the embrace somewhat ambiguous, even though the elegant lady's face fell with disappointment and she turned quickly away and towards the exit.

Vadim kept him close and tight, Dan's scent, the warmth, the strength. Like he'd never been gone. Or just briefly. Not over a week. "Come, the car's over there", he murmured. "I'll take the other bag." He gave Dan a bright smile. "You look like you'd been in Hawaii or somewhere exceedingly pleasant."

"Pleasant? You must be fucking kidding me." Dan grinned, lighting a cigarette the moment they were in the smoking zone. "The kid dragged me around town. Can you believe it? The only way to stop the little bastard was to just do what he wanted. 'Get a haircut', 'buy this shirt', 'put your ass into those trousers', and so on." Dan rolled his eyes in mock exasperation.

"But he was right. You look … delicious." Vadim grinned and steered towards the car. "Part of me wants to drag you to a safe place and suck you …"

"Damn." Dan stopped, staring at Vadim, "I have no idea what Hooch did to you, but I think I got to thank him."


"You haven't wanted to jump my bones like that since Afghanistan." Dan was grinning like a fool. "The place you rented not safe enough? Or too far?"

"Too far." Vadim glanced around. "Let's just get the bags into the car." Maybe there was a place somewhere to do it. Or he could go with the slow simmering desire and unleash it once they were in the house.

"I guess the car's not private enough?"

"I'm sure it could be." Vadim opened the door for Dan, then tossed the bags into the trunk and sat down in the driver's seat, just quickly adjusting himself. The tight dark designer label jeans were getting too tight. He steered the car away from the airport building, and out to the parking lot, which wasn't very busy this time of day. Late evening. He stopped the car in the far corner, glanced around for a moment, then bent over, hands unzipping Dan.

"You're not fucking kidding." Dan stated, observing the obvious. "Shit, Vadim, is it really you?" Not complaining for a second, though, and as usual, he was commando. The leather warmed up by his skin. "Or is it a case of the body snatchers?"

"You're not making sense." Vadim freed Dan's cock and held it, pumping it slowly, firmly, while Dan adjusted the seat to sit more comfortably and allow more space. What was unusual, however, was the sight of his groin. Clearly waxed, and far further than just his balls.

"Nice. No hair."

"Matt …" but Dan didn't get another word in, when Vadim went down on his cock, taking Dan deep and soon deeper, rushing it, definitely, but he wanted to taste and feel Dan, more urgently than he wanted proper sex. He wanted him right now. There would be time to recharge. Different, again, so known, so good, the taste and heat as he started to deepthroat. A sudden, maddening need and hunger than he'd very rarely felt when sucking cock, but it was there.

"Fuck!" Dan arched up, towards Vadim's lips. Everything different, everything the same, and yet everything so goddamned different. That hunger … as rare as it had been, a lifetime ago. He was hard within a second, and panting within a few seconds more. Rapidly losing a control he never wanted to have in the first place.

Vadim reached for the door's arm rest, supporting his weight there as he went down, fiercely fucking his own throat. Out here, in the open, but in the dark. His own need clouding his mind, and he concentrated only on one thing - to give heat and friction and show Dan how much he was needed, right now.

Dan reacted, as much quicksilver as all those years ago. Too surprised by the speed, his mind still caught in figuring out where to find a taxi and how to get to the bungalow, and wondering in what state of mind Vadim was in - while his body was crashing over the edge already. Cumming with a suppressed shout, he gripped the corners of the seat tight and lifted towards the lips and mouth and throat - and everything. Everything that was Vadim and that could never be replaced by anyone. No one.

He was panting open mouthed and with closed eyes, slack in his seat like a boneless weight, while Vadim cleaned him, sucking carefully and licking, swallowing, then looking up with a grin. "Welcome back", he murmured, and kissed Dan, softly, tenderly, couldn't see enough of him, couldn't touch him enough. "Missed you."

"Shit." Dan breathed out, hand on his cock as he haphazardly tried to get his trousers back into a semblance of order. "I didn't expect that."

"Of course not."

Dan reached for Vadim's neck, pulling him closer again and kissing him for a long time. Breaking up, but so close, Vadim's face was a blur. "Missed you a lot. Hate being apart, but ... it's okay. The being back together is damn good."

Vadim smiled. "It is. Maybe over a week was too long." He started the car once Dan had tucked himself back in and fastened the seatbelt. He was still in a daze when they left the parking space behind, soon got onto the highway and were well on the way to Potsdam. "You'll like the bungalow. It's very secluded. How's Matt?"

Lucid thoughts not quite returned, Dan lit a fag after opening the window. "Matt, oh, yes. He's alright. Don't think anyone or anything could piss on his parade. If he were any sunnier, he'd destroy the universe." He shook his head, grinning. "And that even though his boyfriend threw him out when he got back at Christmas."

"He did? For screwing with Hooch, or some other reason?"

"No." Dan blew smoke out of the window, "for being in the Forces. Sorry, 'US Marines'." Putting on a fake American accent. "Seems the guy hated Matt's job." He glanced at Vadim, "can't blame him, aye?"

"I guess that was not a case of uniform … ah." Fetish. Kink. The words he'd used pretty freely and that reminded him very much of the Soviet uniform in the wardrobe. Uniform fetish all the way. "What kind of boyfriend is that?"

"Hm?" Dan half-turned to the side, watching Vadim. "What do you mean? A boyfriend who isn't into uniforms? Guess that's just ... a boyfriend." He flashed a grin, "and not a kinky bastard, even though I wouldn't be all that surprised if the guy was taken in by the uniform but then didn't like the bitter taste of reality. Besides, they have some real shit laws. Britain's fairly easy: you gay, you out. US? Holy fuck. Prosecution, all that. Punishable offence." He leaned back again, taking another drag. "Fucking weirdoes. Must have turned their stomachs, having to give us medals."

"I bet." Vadim frowned and kept his eyes on the road. "I only hope it won't bite Hooch in the arse. But he seems far better adjusted than Beauvais likely ever was."

"And what about Matt?"

"You said he takes it all lightly. He should be alright. Didn't look like a rules breaker to me."

"Then again, Hooch? Never seemed to be the 'I am gay' type to me. Thought he was an opportunist."

"The opportunist stuff is gone. It was a mask."

Blowing smoke out of the window, Dan leaned back once more, regarding Vadim. "You got to know him well, didn't you?" Smiling slightly, "better than Matt, it seems."

Vadim smiled. "I think so … I learned some surprising things, too." Like touching in public, like hitting and whipping a bound man who wanted all that pain. The tenderness mixed with power. The trust. He'd told Hooch so much in such little time, as if the man posed no threat, no danger, like dirty secrets were only half as bad like that. "Didn't have the opportunity to meet Matt much …"

"Didn't mean that. Meant I think you know Hooch better than Matt does. Not sure how much of a clue the kid has." Dan shook his head slightly, blowing out smoke again before snipping the cigarette out of the window. "And he doesn't even realise that he's in love."

"In love? Oh bugger." Vadim laughed. "Poor bastard. Deltas and their travelling … that should be almost as bad as when we started out."

"Fair enough," Dan grinned, "he doesn't realise it anyway, and I sure as fuck wasn't going to push his nose into the open secret. Figured Hooch wasn't a man to be in love with, not if you're a kid like Matt."

"Why not? Assume he's aware he's gay, and actually relaxed and talking? Which is rare, but I've seen it happen."

"What did you do to the man?" Dan grinned, head rolled to the side, towards Vadim.

"The usual. Shopping, cooking, eating, well, yeah, and sex." Don't forget hitting, dressing up, kicking, shouting, whipping, tying him up and fucking him, eating his ass and other things. "Seems there's Hooch the Delta and Hooch the man." And the man's name is Bozic.

Dan laughed, "must be the cooking, then, because Matt can sure as fuck do the shopping, and I wager he'd manage the sex." He looked out of the window when they turned into a residential street. "Well, as long as you had a good time, all's well. Just don't tell Matt about 'Hooch the man' or his infatuation might become worse."

"It's not my job to blow Hooch's cover …"

Dan grinned, noticing how the car slowed down. "Best to wean him off the Delta, eh? No future. And sure as fuck not in the US military."

"Who knows?" Vadim parked the car, then pulled the key from the ignition. "There we are. The bungalow behind the trees." He got out, grabbed the bags and then headed towards the house. "You like the place?"

"Very nice. You booked it for another week?"

"Yes. I can extend, too."

"Looks positively suburban." Dan smiled, following Vadim.

"Aye it does, doesn't it?" Vadim laughed and opened the door, allowing Dan to enter first.

"Got any plans or can we just hang out? Not that I haven't already done a lot of hanging out. Didn't do much but sun beside the pool and beast myself in the gym, back at Maggie's."

"We can drive over to Berlin to do stuff … there are nice restaurants, I could show you some places." Vadim headed into the bedroom and dropped the bags there, then shrugged out of his jacket. "Home sweet temporary home."

The jacket already in his hands, Dan looked around himself, standing in the middle of the hallway. "Not bad." Throwing the jacket over the clothes stand. "By the way, want to know what Matt made me do? Tried to tell you, but you had my cock down your throat the next second."

Vadim laughed. "Sorry for that."

"I'm not."

Getting rid of his shoes, Vadim asked, "what did he do? New haircut, new dress sense and …?"

"Dress sense? Fuck that, but he got me drunk and made me do this …" Fingers on the buttons of his shirt, Dan had it open in no time, slipped it off his shoulders and onto the ground. "Said it was a shame because I was so tanned from Dubai." Opening the trousers as well, he bent over and pushed them down to his ankles, "and that you would appreciate it." Coming back up, he stood, arms wide, and … completely hairless except for a neat patch of pubes. The scars pale in contrast to the smooth expanses of undamaged skin, which glowed darkly tanned in the low light. "The little bastard filled me up with booze and then got me waxed in some fucking beauty salon!" Turning slowly around himself, legs trapped in the trousers that were pooled around his boots, Dan looked more pumped and his muscles more defined than he usually did. The result of extensive gym work, good food, swimming and lying by the pool - and otherwise pretty much nought else. "And? Was he right? Do you appreciate it?"

Vadim licked his lips. Knowing how rare this was and likely how much pain, but Matt had been right. He adjusted himself again. "I … do. Shower … sauna … or bed?" Dropping the food option.

Dan tilted his head, a slow grin starting. "Bearing in mind you've just blown me … you look like a man who wants to fuck."

"Don't want you to suffer, I can wait." Vadim gave a pained expression. "Well, I can, but I don't particularly like it. But you know that."

Dan laughed. "I offer you a deal: you rim me, you get to fuck me. What about that?" He winked.

"Sounds good. Very good." Vadim began to undress, no games, uniforms or anything, just skin on skin. He smiled to himself at that thought. "Just wonder … how much you want to know. Or me, for that matter. About … the other guy. What you did, what you felt … I know it turns you on to see me with somebody else. Would that be just me getting fucked, or me fucking somebody else - or just generally me with somebody else?"

Dan undid the boots, stepped out of the trousers. Naked and positively gleaming with sun, health, and strength. "You getting fucked. It blows my mind, I don't know why." He shook his head, thinking a moment, "don't know if I want to hear about it. Maybe I do, but I sure as fuck want to see it."

"Sorry, no camera."

"Damn." Dan flashed a grin before glancing behind and spotting a door. "That the bathroom? Shame we haven't got anything to get cleaned out properly. Or I might ask you to do your magic …" wiggling his hand, "once you're done with the fucking." Grinning, he stood hands on hips, the picture of self confidence.

Vadim grinned. "Just look through the drawers." Hooch had left his stuff there, and Vadim had figured they might be needing it. But he fully intended for Dan to find out by himself.

Dan raised a brow. "I am not sure I dare …" contrary to his own words he was at the chest of drawers and pulled the first drawer open. It took barely half a second before he pulled out a handful of rather interesting finds. "Holy fuck. What did you do?" Turning round with a dildo, a gag, a blindfold, and some chains in his hands.

Vadim crossed his arms in front of his chest. "No idea. But it felt good." Saying that with a straight face, watching Dan intently.

"On you?" The same intense gaze, and something … a hint of a flicker perhaps in Dan's eyes.

"No. Hooch likes his pain real." Vadim kept the gaze steady, allowing Dan to grasp what he'd said, maybe imagine it.

Dan's first reaction was entirely involuntary. The flicker vanished, replaced with something that could almost be described as relief, before his expression was back to normal, apart from the once again raised brow. "Hooch? Pain?" He shook his head. "You got to be fucking kidding me."

Vadim smiled. He'd caught it, had seen whatever had coiled behind Dan's eyes, and it was the kind of thing that tightened his guts - more - and he figured it might give Dan ideas. "Feel free to have a look."

"Great answer." Dan grumbled when Vadim moved back and headed into the kitchen, allowing Dan some time and privacy while he made tea and waited.

About five minutes later, Dan reappeared. Still gloriously naked except for the Russian greatcoat that was draped over his shoulders. "So. Pain, you said?" Standing in the doorframe, hip jutted forward.

Vadim was just pouring tea, and looked up. "Yes. And I guess he'd have given Major Krasnorada a run for his money." Vadim smiled. "Only that Hooch is too professional to ever mix sex and job. At least that's what I think. You like it?" pointing at the coat.

"It reminds me of a time gone by. Good and bad, and some seriously awful shit." Dan pushed himself forward, smoothly, towards the kitchen table and its mugs of tea. "Did you play games?" Slowly looking up. If they weren't pretty much the same height, his eyes would have been shielded beneath his lashes.

Vadim met the gaze. "Aye. The prisoner game. He was mine, not the other way round." Did that matter? It did. The way Dan's eyes looked, the expression on his face, the timbre in his voice - it did.

Dan tilted his head, thoughtful for a moment. "Did you play rape?"

Vadim swallowed. "No." He frowned and now lost the staring contest, like his strength was suddenly gone. Only that it wasn't a staring contest, more like holding each other in balance, and he'd lost. "No." He shook his head and sat down, feeling heavy.

"Did you want to?" There was no accusation in Dan's voice, no relief, no nothing. Just a mild, if not gentle, curiosity. Brought about by slowly growing understanding.

Vadim's brow remained dark, his eyes moved up once, just a flash, pained, and he lowered the gaze again, reaching for his tea mug. "I didn't." Wanting and feeling the horror of it. The urge, and the disgust at the same time. Facing the monster, right now, expecting anything from Dan now. He'd deserve it. Whatever it was. "Fuck."

"I'd understand if you'd wanted to." Dan sat down slowly, great coat draped halfway across his body as he reached for a mug as well, but only looking at it. "It would have made sense. After all, you said Hooch likes his pain real. Something I still can't get my head around, though." Still looking at the tea, he tentatively raised it to his lips, but stalled halfway. Wasn't quite what he wanted.

"He's purging … the job, the stress … it's one way to do it. To … deal with it. I don't know. I didn't do it. I made it as real as I could, but …" It was too real and I didn't cross the line. Or I'd be sitting here, even more ashamed.

"Okay." Dan smiled a little, putting the tea down, untouched. "I won't ask anymore, because it isn't my business. Is Hooch's … and yours." Glancing at the mug, "and apart from all of that," flashing a small grin, "got anything stronger than tea?"

"In the freezer." Vadim stood and brought out the vodka and two glasses, setting it down between them. Rattled, yes, and nervous, and with a churning unease in his guts.

"I knew I could count on you to have some good stuff." Dan smiled, pulling the great coat closer, fondling the coarse fabric for a moment, "also, how do I look in this?" He was slowly getting back to his usual irreverent and easy-going self.

"Not sure it's quite your colour or cut." Vadim tried a smile.

"You rather have me in camo, Afghan rags, reporter gear, or suede leather?" Dan cocked a brow, hand creeping forward along the table, towards Vadim.

"Leather is good. A nice suit is good, too. Camo." End of story. No more reporter look, and rags were right out as well. Vadim poured the vodka, two and a half fingers of it, and tossed his back straight away.

"Well, in that case, if you went shopping for this," lifting an edge of the great coat, "and for this …" waggling his brows, Dan indicated towards the bedroom with his chin, "you could very well go shopping for leather, aye?" Tossing his own vodka back, his hand moved towards its old spot, and closer, touching Vadim's hand that lay on the table. "I gained a remarkable tolerance for shopping and being prodded around, across the pond." He winked, fingers stroking Vadim's lightly.

Vadim grinned, still uneasy, but turning his hand to take Dan's fingers in his. "Tomorrow. We can burn some more money." He began to relax again and leaned back. "Whatever you want. Whatever … turns you on."

"I'm not sure, to be honest." Dan smiled, refilling both their glasses with his left. A bit awkward, especially with that fucked hand, but he managed. "How long have we got to find out?"

"A lifetime." Vadim pressed his hand, then shrugged. "Or about ten days. Wasn't that what Maggie said?"

"Aye, I think so. Then off to the happy land." Dan rolled his eyes with a grin, tossing down his vodka. "What you want to do now, though. Abuse this old man, or let this old man sleep his jet lag off, or make love to this old man until he remembers why he fucking loves you as much as he does?"

"I think that's rimming, then, and then fucking, as requested." Vadim smiled. "Pretty sure we can do the fisting thing too, but maybe tomorrow, when we're rested a bit more. I'd like to take my time."

Dan grinned, teeth and all, getting off the chair. "In that case, I'll be in the bathroom with some of the kit Hooch left." He winked and was out of the room after another shot of vodka, to take advantage of being awake for another couple of hours.

* * *

The next day saw the unbelievable, the hitherto unseen, and the nigh impossible happen: Dan went shopping without complaints and with a remarkable amount of patience. With Vadim's help he got himself leather trousers that were simultaneously tight and comfortable, while not making him look like an aging man who was trying to recapture his youth. He stayed a long time in the 'toy' shop, poring over gadgets, but in the end venturing back out without having bought anything. All he could think of was already in the house.

Yet an idea had been brewing, and Dan enquired if the city had surplus shops, which they had - obviously, and if they sold British uniforms.

Vadim took him there, smiling as he watched Dan pick and choose. He was standing near the door, surveying the whole shop, deliberately not looking too closely what Dan was buying. He didn't want the hunger to get too bad.

Dan ended up with two rather full bags and an odd grin on his face, which was almost self-conscious. Stepping outside, he lit a fag the moment he was out of the shop. Joking if he should cut his hair, but the idea wasn't met with approval, and he grinned and shrugged, pointing out that he was hungry, needed feeding, was still jet lagged and wanted to get back to the bungalow, unless Vadim preferred him to be asleep instead of horny.

They headed back and Vadim heated up the sauna for Dan, while he started to cook something in the kitchen. Steak, salad, some potato wedges, solid food. Encouraging Dan to sweat it out, shower, and then rest. Still not looking at the bags or what they contained.

Only later, when they had eaten and Dan sat back with a cold Pils in his hand, did he look at Vadim with that expression that was part incredibly intense and part challenging. And part … unknown. "I think you should get some of your kit on. But just the basics. Field gear."

Vadim cleared away the dishes. "Want me to prepare? Clean … out?"

"You wouldn't have done …" Trailing off, Dan lifted the glass to his lips, adam's apple bobbing as he drank two gulps. "But we're not in the Afghan mountains anymore." He nodded, wiped his lips, and smiled a curious smile.

"Okay." Afghanistan. The word sent off an electric spark, every single time. "Be right back." Vadim headed into the bathroom and cleaned out. Not his favourite thing, but he did see the point. Then a quick shower, towelling down, and dressing in the 'field gear' in the bedroom. Commando underneath, would give Dan less to content with. And another thing which felt weird, but which was very likely helpful to what they were going to do. Using some Vaseline on his ass. If Dan wanted to fuck him roughly, he wouldn't even have to stop or pause.

By the time Vadim returned, the kitchen light was off and instead the light in the hallway on, and the living room and bedroom were dark, too. Dan was standing out of immediate sight, leaning at ease against the doorframe to the living room. Dressed in British camo, the boots, the combat uniform, the olive webbed belt with its brass belt buckle and the olive t-shirt underneath. Wild hair pulled back behind his ears, Dan had a black beret at the correct angle. Not the SAS sand coloured one, impossible to get, but this one would do. Especially since he'd found a uniform with the Sergeant stripes, even though the Staff Sergeant crown was missing. Glowing cigarette between his lips, he was watching Vadim intently. Perfectly aware that Vadim had never seen him in uniform before. Ever.

And the effect was like a punch to the guts. Somehow, it was like Hereford, or Royal Marines, suddenly real. Dan wasn't dressing up, wasn't faking it, this was pretty damn close to what Dan had to have been wearing once. He suddenly fit into the stories he'd told, and Vadim could see Dan as a grunt. Well, NCO. He moved closer, dressed himself in the camo of the enemy. Not quite sure what the game was, exactly.

"You know …" Dan breathed out smoke, away from Vadim, an old habit by now. "If I'd been who I am now, if I'd fucked who I fuck now, I'd have taken your offer … back in the mountains." His voice no more than a low rumble. Dark eyes intense.

Offer. Of all the things he'd said, all the things he'd offered, Vadim knew exactly which one offer Dan meant, and it made him break eye contact. Another punch to the guts, but good, excruciatingly good. Do what I did to you. And we're even. Vadim shivered.

Dan paused, watching Vadim. Inhaling the smoke deeply. "You're not Hooch. I'm not you." Another pause, slowly exhaling, "how real do you want to play?"

"I don't know." Naked, blind truth. Dan wasn't KGB. Dan had tortured him before. Love. Trust. The brink of madness. "I … trust you." Keep me this side of sanity.

The cigarette was almost down to the filter, and Dan lowered his hand. "I want to take you back to the Afghan mountains. Will you come with me?" His voice was hardly audible.

The most wretched time in his life, apart from the prison, of course. "Aye." I was strong then, Vadim thought. A lion of a man. Reckless. Unbroken. Until I did break. "Before … or after the torture?"

"You'll find out." Leaning down to bury the butt in a pot plant, Dan pushed himself away from the doorframe, standing face to face with Vadim.

Vadim didn't budge, looked into the dark eyes, and nodded. Accepting whatever came, agreeing to the 'game' if it was a game, and trusting Dan to begin it and to end it and keep control throughout.

Dan nodded slowly and smiled. Unveiled, disarming. "After you." Gesturing towards the living room.

Vadim's guts tightened, but he turned around. In Afghanistan, that had been a mistake, and he knew it, that very instant.

The next second there was a faint sound of fabric, movement, and then the full weight of Dan's body, shoulder, knee and hip impacting into Vadim's back.

Vadim lost balance, the weight brought him down, the impact painful, but mostly disorientating. He tried to half-turn at least, reflexes, tried to land on his back, or in some other position where he could defend himself, but Dan made that impossible. The impact pressed the air from his lungs. The game was on.

"My Russian cunt." Dan said softly, an echo of long ago. 'My', now, not 'you'. "You're not going to trick me this time, aye?" He was moving swiftly, a handcuff clicked around one wrist, first, then pulling the other arm close, with another metallic sound the second one shut. Steel, not ropes. Vadim's fingers found the connection, the steel links, and he remembered what Hooch's wrists had looked like. He shuddered. There was nobody that forbid Dan to kick the shit out of him, as long as he was fighting fit in ten days. And no chance to escape from these cuffs.

"I'll do what's necessary", murmured Vadim, glancing over his shoulder. The weight left his body when Dan stood, walking around.

"Get up." Standing right in front of Vadim, hands in the pocket of his uniform trousers. "You're more trouble than it's worth." Growling, softly, "I should have killed you."

Vadim stood, body tensed, expecting kicks or punches, somehow. Natural response. Reflexes, like one of Pavlov's dogs. "Maybe." Vadim's lips were dry. "Maybe I can be useful. Don't kill me." He remembered how he had begged for his life, the blurring of tears, the nausea, the realization that he'd been at the end of what he could endure.

"And why shouldn't I?" Dan took his hand out of the pocket, casually weighing a knife in his palm. Combat knife, surplus, and he twirled it between his fingers as if he'd never done anything else in his life. Until it lay firmly and steadily in his hand. Light glinting off the blade. "Why the fuck shouldn't I get rid of you, you Russian cunt? Why shouldn't I cut you, and this time watch you bleed dry?" Voice trailing off, lowering with every word, but increasing in intensity. A game, perhaps, but it didn't feel like it. "What's keeping me here …" whispered, "what's keeping you alive …?"

Vadim kept his eyes on the knife, felt his back tighten, like the muscles remembered the pain, being wounded. Suddenly breathless. Bleed dry. Cut his throat. Carve more words into his flesh. Blood. Pain. Glinting steel in that tanned hand. Vadim's eyes were somewhat widened, and he glanced at Dan's groin. "I'll be useful", he murmured.

"How?" Sudden movement, barely a glint in his eyes, before Dan's body moved full-force into Vadim's. Pushing him against the wall, impact of shoulders into chest and a fist resting in the pit of Vadim's stomach. Right next to the blade that was nestled in the uniform cloth. "You remember?" Whispered, Dan's face so close, lips ghosting across a cheek, jaw, earlobe.

Vadim bared his throat, lust hitting him with the impact, with the fist, and fuck, the knife. "I do." No more than a whisper now that his throat was so tight. "Whatever … you want me to do", he managed. "I could … suck you, or …"

"What?" Voice sharp, body, hands, eyes and blade drawing closer, voice gaining in intensity. "What the fuck makes you think I'd want that?" Dan was hard, shit, and the game was too real. Too much, no, just right, and fuck he'd been jealous and Vadim was his, and damn he'd never admit it and … "What the fuck did you say?" Hissed.

Vadim's breath was going faster, eyes now wide, recognising the intensity, remembering. "Nobody would know", he managed to get out. "I'm your … prisoner, nobody would know what you did, and it's … just a deal. For my life. I'll do whatever you want."

"But I'm not like you, cunt." Dan hissed, remembering, body pressing closer, the knife slipping upwards, towards the throat, the other hand downwards, pushed against Vadim's groin, trapped between thigh and cock. "I want more. You understand? You fucking understand?"

Vadim moved his head back, eyes on the knife, wanting the touch at the same time, need and knife, each one heightening the effect of the other. Fuck. Pull a knife on me and I'm yours, part of him thought, and he swallowed. "Yes. I … understand. You can … have more." Struggling with the word. "Fuck me. Do what you want. Just keep me alive." Wrong. "Let me live." Keep me alive. Both sentences so close in English, but very different meaning.

"And why, why should I?" Pressing in hard, Dan's hands twisted in the confinement, blade to the throat, whispering along sensitive flesh before moving down, cutting the fabric of tunic and shirt, cutting the surface of flesh and skin as well, which made Vadim shudder and sweat, feeling the burn when the sweat entered the cuts. "Why should you live?" One swift movement, and Vadim's chest was bared.

Vadim's lips were open, catching breath. Why. Why. He had no idea. What should he say? "Because … I need you." It broke the game, whatever, but Vadim did, and it was the only thing that made sense, and yet it didn't break it, because Dan didn't even stop, nor flinch, nor noticed anything, except for skin beneath his hand and the minuscule line of a shallow cut between the pecs.

"You wanted to fuck me. Right? Admit it, you fucking bastard." Dan was breathless, suddenly, and hardly above the audible.

"Yes." Vadim met his gaze, swallowed again, against the knife against his throat. "I still … want to fuck you."

Aggression and lust, in equal measure, blazing in Dan's eyes. "And how many others?" Catching himself too late, he growled, "but you're mine, you cunt." Almost forgetting the game, far away, back in the mountains. In heat and dust and anger. Pushing forward, hand twisting into the cut fabric, pulling Vadim close, before bodily thrusting him towards the living room door. "Inside!"

Vadim didn't resist much. How many others. It wasn't about the recruits. It was, at least in part, about Hooch. "Yours", he said, almost too loud in his own ears while he stumbled into the living room.

"Why?" Dan laughed, once, harsh, like he might have done, back in the mountains. Delivering a kick once Vadim was inside that made Vadim stumble and go down on his knees, barely managing to not fall onto his face.

"Because you keep me alive", Vadim whispered, "and sane."

"And what the fuck did I get for it?" Past, present, future, make-believe and reality all blurring together. "You know what you got yourself into? With your fucking foolishness? You won't get rid of me, Russkie. Never again."

Vadim glanced over his shoulder, then opened his legs to brace himself, after Dan had opened the buckle, pulled Vadim's trousers down. "I don't want to."

But Dan said nothing, didn't react, just bared the arse before him, and stared down at it. "I never finished the line."

Vadim's legs and ass tensed, the hands in his back clenching, remembering the madness and pain when Dan had written into his flesh. He wouldn't … would he? Do that? Again? His stomach grew so taut that he was bordering on nausea. He wasn't sure. He simply wasn't sure. He couldn't place this, had no idea where Dan was heading, felt disoriented. Still horny, fuck, yes, but otherwise had no idea what was going on. "Fuck me", he murmured, hoping that that was where it was going. Sane. Something he knew. What he'd set out to get.

"No." Running a hand across that arse, Dan had to physically hold himself back. "Got to prepare you." Close by, the heap of 'toys' he had dropped, and he chose the dildo, the smaller one. A brief, unseen quirk of a brow, when he realised Vadim had greased himself up. Poised and ready, he worked the silicon cock deep inside. Steadily, no mercy. "What did they teach you, Russkie?"

Vadim had no idea what Dan was talking about, who 'they' were, or anything else, what Dan could possibly mean, instead fully focused on the thing that was entering him. And which would allow Dan to do this as much as he wanted, and as long. "Who … what?"

"Your handlers." Murmured. The dildo had already been accepted, and vanished inside the body he'd never stopped craving. Touching, watching, the contrast of taut flesh, black silicon, and camo cloth of uniform and black leather boots. "Never fraternize." Dan recited, quietly. A memory from his old SAS days. Pulling the cut-off tunic and shirt over Vadim's shoulders and down, until the fabric ended bunched-up at his shackled wrists. "What would you do to survive? Tell me."

"Anything." Vadim groaned, his eyes were closed now, and it was true, he'd do anything and had done anything to survive. Including 'fraternization'.

"Good." Dan breathed out, reaching for a length of rope. Still in Vadim's back, unseen, he swiftly and securely tied the rope around one booted ankle, leaving a short length in between the feet, before tying off the other ankle. He'd be able to hobble, no more. Then walking to the front, Dan looked down while fishing for his cigarettes and a lighter. "Look at me, cunt."

Vadim's eyes opened, his head raised slightly to be able to meet Dan's gaze. Lust and confusion in the bright blue eyes, a hint of worry, more than a taste of fear. Cigarette. The burn mark at his throat. "What do you want?" he asked, voice rough. "Me to do?"

"Not to ask so many questions." Dan raised his brows, exhaling the first plume of smoke as he put the lighter back into his pocket. A slow smile started to creep into his face. "Silence, aye?" Putting his index finger in front of his lips. "Sssshhhhh … no sound. I want you to shut up. Not a peep. You think you can do that?"

Vadim nodded, jaw muscles tightened. Shut up. He had gagged Hooch. But he preferred to be able to scream. Just in case. If that was what Dan was planning. Konstantinov had allowed him to scream. It had been the admission that he was in pain - something he hadn't given him for a long time. At least it had felt like a long time. Vadim shuddered.

"You know what they do to prisoners in the SAS?" Dan smoked slowly, leisurely. "When we have to interrogate them?" Half-turning, he walked over to the sofa, pushing the low table away, but leaving the rug. A space now, freed, and he sat with legs braced, leaning back, as if he were holding a relaxed conversation. Crooking his finger towards Vadim to make him come closer. "Well, do you?"

Vadim shook his head, then straightened a bit, and moved, on his knees, shuffling closer with the small movements the rope around his ankles allowed. His eyes meeting Dan's, watching him closely. Just in front of Dan's feet, he stopped and straightened more, fingers in his back intertwined.

Dan smiled, not his usual smile, but a dangerous one, an old one. A smile from long ago. "We work at them. Slowly. We take our time."

I have years. But I will not need years. Konstantinov.

Opening his knees further, Dan crooked his finger again for Vadim to come closer. "I could fuck you now, or I could make you suck me." Inhaling the smoke, the cigarette glowing bright red. "But that would be too easy, don't you think?"

Yes or no were both wrong answers, so Vadim shrugged and moved closer, as ordered. You call the shots, he thought. Eyes flickering to the redness of the burning tobacco, the smell, and the spot under his throat itched. Might be sweat.

Dan watched, the uniform cloth on his own hairless skin an overpowering sensation. Unknown, not just long forgotten. Simply unknown, like the waters he'd jumped into right now. He'd sink or swim and didn't care either way. Whatever happened. "Would definitely be too fast." Nodding to himself, Dan dropped his free hand, taking hold of a nipple and twisted, hard, while moving the cigarette down to the hollow of Vadim's throat. Not touching, but the heat was there. Right there, making Vadim squirm, inside, outside, biting back the groan from the nipple, and the pleading to not get burned.

"Remember, no sound." Smiling. "Unlike in the mountains."

Vadim breathed hard, nodded, but he was definitely sweating again. Eyes now showing more fear than confusion. He was settling into the rules, followed them, didn't think about them anymore. Minimizing whatever danger he could.

The cigarette went upwards. Slowly, ever so slowly, and almost touching the skin, but never quite. If Vadim did so much as just twitch, he'd burn himself, but as it were, Dan moved it all the way up towards the face and then took it away. Only then stopping to twist and flick the nipple. "You know where the knife is?" A strange sort of amusement in his voice. "You think you could get hold of it if you knew?" Moving to the other nipple, twisting, again and again, short nails flicking across the hardened bud.

Knife. Where had the knife vanished to? He couldn't remember. Didn't see it right away, and his nipples were the focus of his attention, the slow torture that still kept him hard, the pain and the pleasure, making his breath catch a few times. He didn't want to betray the effect, but he did. The question. Vadim shrugged again. Teeth clenched, lips had opened a bit.

Dan let go and leaned back, regarding the man in front of him. As well known as his own body and yet right now as deep and dark as the water he was in. "This is no game, aye?" Musing, more to himself than to Vadim, as he smoked slowly until the cigarette was finished. Abusing another plant to stub out the butt.

Was it? Was it not? If it wasn't, why had Dan not added another burn mark? If it was ... why was he asking. And if it wasn't, why wasn't he fighting, resisting? Because Konstantinov had broken that bone in his body, Vadim realised. He'd learnt that he couldn't resist, that he was powerless, fully dependent on the torturer. Lover. Assuming that that was what Dan wanted to see, he shook his head. No game.

"As little as with the Delta?" Dan traced a line from Vadim's jaw down to a nipple, before taking it between his fingertips and twisting it once more. Slowly, everything slowly, making Vadim flinch, his hands formed fists.

Vadim nodded, then. He was at the receiving end of the same kind of not-game. And maybe he should fight this, only, he stood no chance. He couldn't get away, couldn't run, couldn't punch or kick.

A sudden flash in Dan's eyes and he nodded, once, and stood up. "Move." Pointing to the rug and its very centre.

Vadim shuffled backwards until he was in place. Thinking about the knife's whereabouts, when Dan was behind him instantly, another length of rope in his hand. Doubled up, he fixed it in a loop around the steel links of the handcuffs, each end tied to one ankle. Pulling hard, until Vadim's shoulders were taut and his chest thrust out, shackled hands as far down as physically possible - and then a little more, forcing a groan from Vadim, who felt it keenly in his shoulders, chest, neck, the small of his back.

Dan moved to face him, crotch at eye level. "I have time. I even give you a choice, cunt. Knife or cock." And there it was, the blade gleamed once again in his tanned hand.

Vadim nodded towards Dan's groin, then glanced up, hoping it was understood. Shuffling slightly forward, to move his face towards the cock. Knife was not an option.

Unbuckling the belt, Dan opened his fly, letting the uniform trousers fall to his ankles, all without a word. His cock interested, but not fully hard. Too much concentration - until now. Still no word, when he stepped closer, one hand gripping the back of Vadim's head, the other holding the knife against his throat, which made Vadim's cock jump.

How would he give head to an enemy? Vadim pondered just for a moment, then opened his lips, moving to take the cock in. Smooth, he had to do it, and it was the first chance he got to fuck Dan's mind as well. Careful to not put pressure against the blade, he made a show of reluctance to do anything with the flesh between his lips, undecided. Swallowing as if he were nervous, then slowly using his tongue to run it across the flesh, probing, trying out, breathing through the nose, a loud sound in his own ears.

The feelings real, and the reluctance a make-belief that was too realistic to ignore. Dan shuddered, his own breath quickening after a few short moments. "Best make it good." His voice husky, tilting the blade to avoid cutting, yet letting it scrape against the skin as he pressed in harder. Making a statement between the hand that forced Vadim's head closer, his cock deeper, and the blade at the jugular.

Vadim took another bit, some more cock, right to the point where novices could get it, and moved his head back and forth in the constraints of hand and blade, trying what many tried, to do it just with the friction from the lips, which didn't work and couldn't work, but that was beside the point. He remembered how much Dan had enjoyed this from Jean, who'd been anything but a pro in this, but he'd made a few serious attempts. He sped up those movements, as if his jaw was getting tired, wondering if he should let Dan force him, or force himself to go deeper.

The decision was made for him, when Dan hissed out, "useless!" Before the hand in the back of Vadim's head pushed harder, brutal, with no way to go but forward, forcing the cock down the throat.

The choking was damned real, and Vadim did struggle against that reflex like he hadn't in ages. He managed to focus, forced himself to focus, even if his body fought the panic of not being able to breathe. Moving again, raw throat giving Dan more friction, and he doubled his efforts, sucking on the cock, focusing on getting the other man off, trying to be free and to breathe again. Soon, finding a passable rhythm and strength, enjoying this, he stayed hard, using some of his skill, as if by accident.

Dan's breathing was harsh now, faster and shallower, the closer he got, yet the blade remained steady, hand and knife moving along with Vadim's rhythm. Pulling suddenly out, almost all the way, allowing a split second to catch his breath. Eyes intensely on Vadim, whose eyes were burning, before he bore down once more, cumming that very moment. The blade pressed flat against the throat, his hips jerked, as his cock was buried deeply. He spasmed, and Vadim took it, swallowing for every overspill, a reflex as his throat fought the intruder, but his breathing was under control, allowing Dan to stay there, keep the cock there. His own twitched, too, but he knew making him cum was not high on Dan's list of priorities right now.

Breathing deeply, to counteract the aftershocks, Dan pulled back and out, using Vadim's lips to ensure every drop was caught and his cock was cleaned, and Vadim swallowed again, but the taste lingered. The feeling of having been used, of having offered and that this game had turned real.

Dan smiled briefly, face flushed beneath the tan, as he struggled for a moment to bring his breathing back under control. Slipping the knife into the utility pocket on the trouser leg, he tucked himself in, closed fly, buttons and belt, and went towards Vadim's back. He said nothing, not even when the knife came back out and he started slicing the remains of the tunic into strips, before cutting the fabric off that had been bunched around Vadim's wrists.

Vadim closed his eyes, felt the motions in his back, around his arms, assumed Dan wanted him naked. Or maybe it was to bare the scars that were on his back. He cleared his throat, but no other sound.

A doubled-up strip of camo fabric was slipped over his eyes, then knotted tightly in the back. A touch of Dan's fingers along his jaw the last contact Vadim felt before Dan turned and walked out of the room. Closing the door behind him.

Gone. Empty. Vadim shuddered. Taking our time. Remembering how he'd been left alone, for weeks, hours, years, how his mind had started to race, and right now, he had to cling to the fact it was a game, but his face twitched. Fingers tensed, hands became fists, the stress position growing painful, keeping him upright by using his own body against him. Vadim began to sweat. As time passed, the fear came. Crawled up to him, curled around his mind, until he felt himself breathe fast. What if he was back in Moscow? Everything else just a dream. Just an illusion. One of the many dreams. A hallucination? Carpet under his knees. That was the only clue. He wasn't hungry, hadn't been beaten, and Dan's cigarette could still be smelled in the room. Nevertheless, the reaction was violent, nausea, fear, and cold sweat.

Eventually the door opened quietly, muted steps were felt rather than heard, as Dan returned. Stopping in front of the bound man, Dan studied Vadim for a while, before his fingertips lightly touched the face, which moved forward to nuzzle against the hand. The touch growing firmer, caressing the cheek, then running down towards the sweat gleaming chest. Brushing over a nipple, no pain this time, before the hand came back up, ending as a steady presence in the back of Vadim's neck. Cool glass then touched the lower lip, offering water. Vadim tilted his head and accepted the drink, swallowing, drinking without restraint, trusting the kindness. Dan.

He raised his face, blindly meeting a gaze he only guessed, shifting his weight and broadening his stance. Close to speaking Dan's name, or something like 'please', but a finger was placed against his lips, silencing him without speaking a word.

The faint sound of cloth shifting, as Dan leaned down, lips moving against Vadim's, silently urging to open up, while both hands caressed the bound body. Running across sweaty skin, moving along tense muscles. Towards cuffs and ropes, back and up once more.

Vadim answered the kiss, opened up, fully, hungrily, needed the reassurance now, needed the kiss more than anything. There was a small sound, for a moment, that he couldn't suppress, but Dan didn't stop, allowed the sound, as he kissed deeply, hungrily, tasting of vodka. One hand moving down, towards the dildo, manipulating the base that held it securely inside, pushing it deeper, moving, rhythmically, while he drank in every emotion, as they kissed for long minutes. Vadim's need growing, and he moved as much as he could, pushing back against the intrusion, like he'd welcome a real cock.

Dan finally pulled back, caressed Vadim's face once more, before his muted footsteps retreated out of the room and the door closed.

"No", said Vadim, but Dan had not heard, too quiet, and he was already gone. Left alone with the need and the taste of Dan. Wanting. But there was no way he could cum, even if he could fuck himself on that thing, it would only worsen the need. Forced to wait again, and soon disoriented about time, but not space. He knew where he was, but his mind just didn't respond to that. There was the fear again, of having been abandoned, forgotten, made to wait, and he soon had no idea how long it was.

Once again the door opened and the scent of cigarette smoke crept into the room. No sound, though, no footsteps, not for several minutes, while Vadim's heart raced, listening for the smallest hint of movement, of presence.

"Please", he murmured, swallowing harshly, turning his face to where he'd heard the last sound. "I'll say everything. Do anything."

No answer, no sound either, not for another couple of minutes, but neither punishment for speaking. Finally the footsteps once again got closer and the cigarette smoke got stronger. Dan came to a stop, once more in front of Vadim, and sat down on his heels, face on the same level. Still not a word, just the slow inhaling and exhaling of nicotine.

Vadim could feel Dan's breath on his face, smell him, and his heart calmed. He shivered as he wanted to see him, touch him, know it was Dan. He didn't speak again, only shuffled closer, towards where he knew Dan was. Trying to touch, somehow, even if his hands remained tied in his back.

He was met with fingertips that touched his face, the cigarette gone. With lips that replaced the fingers, when hands once more ran over his body. Touches, everywhere and constant. Caressing the tensed up muscles, a touch that grew firmer, kneading tension out of shoulders and arms, while the lips, those kisses, travelled across Vadim's face, throat, down to his chest. Never ceasing, as if hands and lips worshipped him; adored his bound helplessness, relishing in the control they had over him, and Vadim relaxed, calmed, found a deep, strange solace in this. Half-leaning into it, still feeling the thing inside him, but it was less torturous now, just a reminder.

A reminder that grew in intensity when a hand dropped to his cock. Strong, calloused fingers closing around the flesh, stroking slowly. Taking their time - with time the most precious commodity they'd ever had in their lives. The other hand moving down, down, once more manipulating the dildo, embedded deep inside. The kisses continued, now back on Vadim's lips, concentrating on coaxing them open, allowing Dan's tongue to slip inside, to explore, clash, and taste. Vadim moved - the clever hands stoking the fire until he was breathless, wanting to be properly fucked, by flesh, wanting to cum, but Dan's hand didn't go that far, never quite that far, instead keeping him right there, wanting, and he groaned with frustration into that kiss, wanting to beg again, ask for it.

Dan pulled back after long minutes, voice husky. "Almost …" You've almost conquered the mountains.


"Not yet." No comment on Vadim's lack of silence, no move to enforce it either. With hands and lips gone, something ice cold went to Vadim's lips, with the strong scent of vodka. Vadim opened his lips, drinking, thirst and need making him reckless, downing all of the offered vodka.

Instead of wiping Vadim's lips, Dan licked them, caught a drip off the chin with his tongue, then stood up and walked away again. Again. This time, though, the door remained open and yet there was no sound once the footsteps had disappeared into another room.

Vadim hung his head, relaxed, feeling the burn of the vodka, focused on breathing, on the tingling memory of Dan's lips on his. Shifting his weight again, as much as the restrains allowed, relaxed his muscles. His ass was beginning to feel sore, he should have used more lube, but he hadn't seen this coming, not at all. He waited, clinging to Dan as a memory. Dan, who might be watching him, Dan, who would come back to do the same thing again - for as long as he wanted, and as often.

But Dan didn't come. Watching Vadim from the hallway, in silence. No sound, not even cigarette smoke. Sitting in a kitchen chair he'd brought out, legs braced, booted feet planted on the ground. Fly open, he was stroking himself without any hurry. Just stoking the simmering lust while he watched and sat, relishing in the sensation of power. Control. Yes, that's what it was: control. Controlling each breath, each movement, each moment of lust and each taste and kiss and thought. Watching, studying. This work of art, the glimpse of scars in the back - his scars - the knowledge of another, hidden between the opened knees. The way the sweat increased on the smooth skin, glistening in the low light of the single lamp in the room. How the body shifted from time to time. Imagining the strain, the fatigue, and the impossibility of knowing. Control … like he should have had in the Afghan mountains.

The fear came back, Vadim's mind suddenly shifted with fear, a moment of losing it all, the focus, and any thought, when everything became a swirl of emotions he couldn't name. Vadim groaned as it hit him, he remembered that feeling, the fear of going insane as his mind was coming apart. Struggling, breathing harshly through the nostrils, just aware of sweat running in drops down his back, his flanks. "Oh please", he murmured in Russian. "Get me out ... get me out ..."

Dan looked up, alerted, tilting his head as he strained to hear the words. Still for a moment, he stood up, as quietly as he could, cock still out and he didn't care. Trousers barely held up with the belt, he took hold of the tub of Vaseline he'd stored beside his chair, and the bottle of vodka he'd been drinking out of. Seemed it was time, now. Vadim was ready. No mountains, this, and a long time since, but he could still smell the heat and the dust.

Vadim wasn't aware that anything had shifted. He pleaded, and his words didn't make much sense. They sounded strangled, half Russian, half English words, many of them just stuck in his throat, choking him, but the despair was audible, and 'please' was the word he used most.

Dan frowned, placing bottle and tub down, and knelt once more, sitting on his heels. Right in front of Vadim, who hadn't noticed him this time. No touch, yet, speaking instead, to make a difference. "You're ready, aye?" Softly, Dan's voice a mere rumble, when he did reach out, fingertips touching Vadim's face.

Vadim shuddered violently, and nodded, biting back the fear and insanity. Dan. Touch. Ready. Yes. "Please. Dan." Voice strangled. "Use me."

Dan breathed out, shuddering when the words hit his core. Shooting straight to his cock - and to his heart, mind, his entire being. Touching something deeper and beyond any 'game'. This was different, this was far more and he'd eventually understand its importance.

"Aye." Touching, moving, the knife was back, cutting through ropes. Severing wrists from ankles, making Vadim groan with relief. Free. Pressure off his back, but he was so stiff now he had no control of his body.

Dan was steadying the body that slid against him, helping Vadim's chest to the ground. Arse up, back arched, the rope between the ankles allowing enough access. "I will use you alright."

Vadim rested his cheek against the ground, shoulders taking his weight. He opened his legs as far as the rope allowed, knowing full well he didn't look very dignified, instead submitting, completely submitting to Dan like this, while at the same time being hard and more than ready with the silicone cock up his ass, which was moved the next instant, slowly being pulled out. No harshness, not right now, not before it was out and gone, and Dan's hand was back, this time with more Vaseline. Slicking himself up, as well as Vadim, he paused a moment. Kneeling between Vadim's legs, his hands spreading the grease-glistening buttocks, opening him up. Lips moving, but the 'you're mine' was not audible, just a silent whisper.

He pushed forward, the muscle relaxed enough to accept his cock without resistance, and Dan groaned out loud when he rocked himself in, once, twice, before he was deeply engulfed, to the hilt, balls pressed against Vadim's arse. Vadim shuddered hard, uncontrollably, his cock twitched, whole body tensed and tried to cum, but didn't manage, of course not. He pushed back, hungry, wanting, sore, fingers reaching for Dan's body, desperate for more contact.

But Dan just fucked him, long, deep strokes in an ever increasing, near-punishing rhythm. Holding Vadim's hips steady with both hands, he had stamina now, the second time round, and was putting all his strength and need into each thrust. Using the body and mind, one with his own.

The ever-increasing pressure, the fact he couldn't move, the burn and soreness in his ass and the way Dan fucked him, no consideration, really, truly using him, built up the pressure to a point where Vadim didn't know what hit him. The pressure tearing, close to bursting, going through him, and he came, hard, with a sound that was between pleading, shout and groan, cum splattering the carpet, while his whole body tensed.

Dan's mind imploded, realising that Vadim had cum. Just like that - fucked, while his own cock was gripped tight in the convulsions. Unable to retain the rhythm, Vadim's orgasm took him along, topped him over, and Dan threw his head far back into his neck, groaning out with abandon as he came, deep in Vadim's body, erratically thrusting.

Vadim gritted his teeth, keeping the tension to not collapse, but it wasn't easy. Dan's strength rocked him, and all he could do was take it and resist, for his own sake, and Dan's. Then, the movements slowed, stopped, and Vadim managed to breathe again. Fuck. There had been no hand involved. Nothing to help him along. Just like this.

Dan lowered his head, breathing hard with his heart racing, hammering against his chest as if it tried to kill him. Mindlessly stroking the damp body, sweat-gliding skin, until he had himself enough under control to pull out carefully. Struggling to breathe, still, he was searching for the key, and unlocked the cuffs, then reaching over to pull the blindfold off. "Holy shit." Voice husky, he smiled at Vadim.

Vadim fell to the side, breathing harshly, and reached up to his face to wipe the sweat away. Removing the cuffs that were dangling from one wrist, while Dan cut off the rope that connected his ankles. They didn't speak. Dan helped Vadim up, to the bathroom, and cleaned him up, while Vadim felt so sore and stiff and tired he didn't manage to string two thoughts together. He was washed and towelled, and then brought to bed, where he lay on his side, shuddering every now and then. Dan close behind him, until they drifted off to sleep in the shared warmth.

* * *

The next day saw both of them having a lie-in, with Dan being more attentive than usual. He actually managed to get a coffee going before Vadim was up, serving the strong brew in bed, after he'd had his first cigarette in the kitchen. Preparing breakfast was obviously too much for his abilities, and he suggested heading out for brunch. So they did, staying in the area, they found a nice café that served a buffet of everything imaginable that tickled the Continental palate.

Heading off for the Berlin Zoo afterwards, Dan enjoyed the animals more than he would any museum or art gallery, but let Vadim choose the evening's entertainment. Vadim seemed thoughtful, attentive when Dan looked at him, and more mellow than usual, every now and then thinking back to the previous night and what he'd experienced, but he didn't feel like talking about it. Good that Dan didn't appear like he wanted to talk about it, either. So he took Dan on a tour through East Berlin, showed him places he'd lived, met people, witnessed things, where the Stasi had kept their prisoners, back in the days. He told the stories with a sense of bewilderment, as if it had been a thousand years since he'd been involved in these matters.

Dan watched him, far more intensely and with a much increased frequency than usual, as if the man who told stories of the past was recalling events of a certain frailty. Eventually, he coaxed Vadim away from those places and to a bar that looked inviting. Finding good beer 'vom Fass' they settled into a nook for an hour, before it was time to head for dinner. Deciding on a whim, Dan stopped in front of a Turkish restaurant, and with light-hearted banter luring him inside, where they found the service friendly and the food excellent, with a burst of flavour in every bite. It was still early when they ventured out again, pleasantly filled with food and drink, and with Dan musing aloud if they should look for another bar or club or if they should return to the bungalow.

Deciding to return, they hailed a taxi fairy quickly and were back in the bungalow just a little later, where Vadim opted for a quick shower, some lotion in a sensitive area, and then crawled into bed.

"You alright?" Dan stood in the doorway, naked, finishing off his last cigarette for the night. Vadim stretched out, pulled the pillow closer and stuffed it under his neck.

"Aye. You?"

"You've just been damned quiet all day." Dan flashed a smile, "not that you are usually a grand talker, but … been wondering if I went too far last night." Stubbing out the fag in an ashtray he'd been holding, Dan stepped into the bedroom.

Vadim smiled and pulled the covers back to allow Dan to get skin to skin with him. "No. It was ... intense. I wasn't quite sure what you were doing ... where it would get us. You. Me." Vadim kept his eyes on Dan, admiring the body, the grace, the scars. "Felt strange." And I came. I came without having been touched. Couldn't help it, and it was nearly painful.

"But you seemed to enjoy it." Dan grinned, a little wistful and oddly self-conscious. "Well, it just felt like what was right at the time." Sliding under the covers, he moved close to embrace and hold Vadim. Chest against back, legs and arms moulded.

Vadim leaned back, holding Dan's hands. "I did. Fuck, I did." Thinking for long moments. "Getting ... off on it. It's too strange. But it was ... good. The ... kit, and the ... memory, the knife. Danger. Brutality. Not ... caring what I want. That's all ... part of it. Guess you just fucking me after you ... broke me is always with me, somewhere. It's when I give up, Dan. When I'd do anything. That's ... a very strange place to be."

Dan frowned, unseen in Vadim's back. "I don't get it. I didn't fuck you after I broke you. What the hell do you mean?"

"But I wanted you to", said Vadim, keeping his eyes closed. "Yeah, and that's me, telling Hooch to accept what he wants and I'm still fucking ashamed of myself."

"Ashamed?" Dan asked quietly. The taste of ashes was back in his mouth and had nothing to do with nicotine. Remembered what he'd been told after the blow-up over visiting his family in Scotland. "Ashamed of being gay?"

"Ashamed of wanting ..." Of wanting. Of wanting to be hit, fucked, tied up, threatened, brutalized. Of wanting to rape and brutalize in return. "That darkness. That extreme. Things like the cutting, the ... games we play. I want that. I'm still sore, I still remember what you did last night, what I ... allowed you to do. I keep thinking I shouldn't."

"But why not? Who's there to tell you what you can and cannot do?" Dan nuzzled his face into the back of Vadim's neck for a moment. "I certainly don't judge you. Ever."

Vadim smiled. "I guess I just want to be strong and honourable ... worthy." The smile was ironic - he'd long since said goodbye to the notions of honour and worthiness. Strength had remained, and he'd even learnt the limits of that - the very hard way.

"But you are. I don't understand what sex and lust have to with being strong and honourable? As long as it is consensual?"

"You don't look down on me when you do that? You don't think ... what a pathetic bastard I am?"

"What?" Dan physically coiled back, propping himself up on his elbow. "Tell me you are fucking joking and this isn't really a question."

Vadim half-turned, studying his face. Seeing the truth. "No. Not a question. You don't. I'm sorry."

Dan looked down at Vadim, reaching out to touch his face. "Don't be sorry. We've been through so much … no need to be sorry. Ever. Aye?" He smiled.

Vadim smiled and placed his hand against Dan's, kissing the inside of his hand, relishing the warmth and strength. "No. I'm okay. I'm just thinking too much. Worrying."

"About what?" Dan settled back in, couldn't think of anything at all to worry about. They were alive, had jobs, were financially settled, as long as they could keep working for a while.

"Everything. And nothing. My mind just does it. Always something going on." Vadim leaned back against Dan. "Bad habits."

"Would sleeping help? While being … 'cuddled'?" Dan grinned, lips curving in the back of Vadim's neck.

"Always works." Vadim smiled and reached over to switch off the light on the nightstand. "Sleep well, Dan."

"Yeah." Dan murmured, smiling. "Sleep well, Russkie." His voice carried all the tenderness of a man who knew who he loved and had known for a long time.

It didn't take long for Dan to fall asleep. Less than ten minutes later and he breathed regularly and softly, while holding onto Vadim.

* * *

All gloom was gone by the morning, and they started the day far more light-hearted than the one before. Laughing and joking, Dan was in a good mood, especially since they were off to explore, and that included a visit to the local pool. The evening brought good food and even better entertainment, and surprisingly, Dan enjoyed the theatre that Vadim got him into. It was fun, and a lot of banter, half of which Dan couldn't understand but laughed anyway, and they spent the night in a local bar, enjoying the initially reserved and then rapidly warming friendliness. The day after that wasn't much different, except for a bit more sightseeing and the odd gallery that Dan let himself get dragged into, but most importantly, a tender session of lovemaking at night. The comfort of two men who knew each other better than each on their own could know themselves.

Vadim had fallen asleep after that, relaxed and happy, even though aware of the fact that time was moving on and they'd have to head back in less than a week, but at the moment, the little holiday seemed to last.

It was that same night when he suddenly awoke with a start, unaware he'd been screaming, and sat in bed, upright, drenched in sweat. The dream too real. Far too real, and disturbing like few others. He'd dreamed Konstantinov had pushed something with steel blades into his mouth, cutting his lips, his gums, his throat, laying bare the roots of his teeth and penetrating him through the neck. And with the logic of dreams, this very disturbing thing had been Konstantinov's cock - if the cold-hearted bastard even had one - it was bizarre and his mind reeled, at the same time he kept swallowing, half-expecting to taste his own blood again, feel the shredded flesh in his mouth, and whistle through the open wounds in his throat and neck that he'd suffered in his dream.

"Vadim?" Dan was scrambling for the light, unable to find it at first in the unfamiliar room. Alerted and frantic, he sat on the bed when he finally found the switch and light flooded the room. Heart hammering.

Vadim shuddered, only slowly coming back. Light, room. Dan. His hands were on his lips, teeth, checking his flesh, making sure he was okay. "Just ... a dream." Only they weren't 'just' dreams.

"Shit, Vadim, you've been screaming your head off." Dan stretched out with his hand, but stopped mid-motion, remembering. "Can I ... can I touch you? Want some water? Want to be left alone or not? Or …" trying to calm himself and make sense. "Fuck. Thought the nightmares were over. Shit."

Vadim shuddered, again, his cold sweat smelled foul, rotten, somehow. "He's still there. He's still in my head." He shook his head, felt he was panting, and kept swallowing what should have been blood and was only saliva. "It's okay. Water's good. I'm ... calm."

"Okay ... okay. Just give me a sec." Dan jumped out of the bed and managed to get to the kitchen and run a glass of cold water in record time. Returning to the side of Vadim's bed, where he sat down, offering the water. "With 'he' … did you mean the torturer?" he asked quietly.

Vadim reached for the glass and drank it, deeply, thirstily, hoping to wash the memory of the blood away. "Him. Konstantinov. Fucking bastard." Saying the name conjured him up, brought the face back, the voice. The touch.

"Shit." Dan looked down, shook his head. Remembered Dr Williams, and the fact that no matter what, he was actually helpless. No matter what the doctor had said. "Any idea why now? Anything I did or said?" Of course, the sex, a couple of days ago.

Vadim shook his head. "Don't think so. I was fine when we went to bed. Relaxed. Nothing that could have triggered this." And the thing with the blades had been a new invention, at least he hoped so. Most dreams were wordless, no images, just bone-grinding dread. This one had been more immediate, less severe, if disgusting and appalling, but different. Less bad. "Not because of Hooch. Not because of you. The dream was nothing like that."

"Nothing like what? Dan tensed, alerted, but tried to keep looking as relaxed as he could. "You mean you have the dream more often?" More often than the last and first time he'd encountered one.

"Too often for my taste", Vadim said wryly, reaching for a discarded T-shirt to wipe off the sweat that annoyed him. "Sometimes I just wake up. Sometimes I don't - it just stops, I think, eventually, and I sleep like normal. This one ... wasn't just ... an emotion, it was more immediate, clearer, more of an ... image, and a sensation. More physical."

"Fucking hell, and I never realised."

"It's not every night. Just ... often enough." Nice way to skirt around it, but Vadim really didn't want to think of it, didn't want to speak the words. Dan wouldn't want him give head for a while if he had to fear that that was what Vadim thought when sucking him off. No reason to do that. "Something ... weird. I got injured. I was bleeding."

"Did that have anything to do with the knife?" Alerted again, and undoubtedly confused.

"That wasn't a knife." Vadim shook his head, wiped his brown again. "No. I like you with a knife." Reaching over to press Dan's hand. "Don't worry about it. I try to ignore it ... maybe I should have a shower. I'm reeking."

"What about a bath?" Not worrying about it? Bullshit, but Dan understood that the chapter had just been closed and Vadim didn't want to talk. "I'll join you in a nice hot soak, what about that?"

"Sounds great. I'll start the water." Vadim stood, noticed his legs were tired as if he'd run a half-marathon, but he started the water and soon they shared the tub, relaxing again, and thoroughly warmed up, refreshed and tired, they went back to bed, even though it was beginning to dawn.

Dan was holding Vadim once more, but this time, he couldn't fall asleep again. It was bright morning when he finally dozed off, still wrapped around Vadim.

* * *

The last days were mellow, though. Taking it easy and enjoying the luxury of freedom. No routines, no duties - and no more nightmares for now. Letting their R&R between jobs peter out in the best possible fashion.

They had their marching order, and what had been crystallising was now a definite on black and white: the Balkans. In a few days' time, after organising storage and stopping over in Britain to leave all their fanciful new civilian possessions behind, they were finally back on a plane, heading towards their next destination

No more Jean, no more wine; no more Hooch, and no more whisky. No more Maggie nor Dr Williams and no more Beauvais and no more Matt. No more desert, and no more heat.

But plenty of hatred.

Special Forces Chapter XXXXV: Live and Let Die
Warning for Readers

The following work of fiction contains graphic homosexual interaction, violence and non-consensual sex. With this work of fiction the authors do not condone in any way any form of intolerance and injustice, e.g. racism, sexual harassment, incitement of hatred, religious hatred nor persecution, xenophobia and misogyny. Neither do the authors through this work of fiction promote violence nor make light of such grave matters as genocide, any taking of human life, murder, execution, rape, torture, persecution of sexual orientation.

By accessing this work of fiction you hereby accept and agree that this is a work of fiction and does not reflect in any way the opinions of the authors. The authors do not necessarily endorse the views expressed by the fictional characters.

By accessing this work of fiction you hereby indemnify the authors against all claims and actions whatsoever arising from reading the work of fiction.

All characters are fictional. Any similarities with living or deceased people are coincidental. In case of real life events, creative license has been applied. Special Forces is intellectual property of Marquesate and Vashtan. Copyright © 2006-2009. All rights reserved.


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Published 31 July 2008