Captain McNally belongs to Peggs.
"Come on, Selkirk! If we miss our ride into town, I'm gonna use your guts for garters."
"Marshall, you might want to consider spending a little less time making idle threats and a little more time working on your personal hygiene. The way you smell right now, no self respecting woman is gonna get within a hundred yards of you."
"Who the hell said anything about a self respecting woman? Besides, you ignorant redskin, I took a shower."
"In what? Cheap cologne?"
"You're a regular laugh riot, Selkirk. Don't quit your day job."
Vin surreptitiously watched from behind the cover of his magazine as the two men, still bickering amiably, passed by his bunk on their way out of the barracks. He waited until the last echo of their voices had faded before heaving a disgusted sigh and throwing his dogeared copy of Guns & Ammo to the floor. Christ, but the two of them together had made a pretty picture. Rory was tall, dark and handsome. Marshall was tall, blond and handsome. They were The Cowboy and The Indian. The Best of the Best. The Pride of the Rangers. Tough. Brave. Smart. Vin could really grow to hate those two.
"Awwww hell." Vin sighed again and glanced around the now empty barracks. Everyone else was off enjoying their unexpected two day leave. They were painting the town red. Or purple. Or some other color of the rainbow. They weren't sitting here staring at the wall, watching the paint peel and wondering if they really would go blind if they jacked off one more time.
Decisions. Decisions. It was either go blind or... No. He'd promised himself he wouldn't. He wasn't that desperate.
But maybe he was that lonely.
Slowly, Vin got to his feet and went to find a phone.+ + + + + + +
"Leaving so soon, Selkirk? I thought you had more staying power." Alexander Marshall stuck his head out the door, grinning. The feminine giggles emanating from the room behind him went a long way towards explaining both the grin he was wearing and the fact that it was all he was wearing.
"Just getting a breath of fresh air, Marshall. It's that cheap cologne of yours. Offends my delicate sensibilities."
"You don't have any sensibilities. And it doesn't seem to bother the ladies, any. You just ain't got staying power. Admit it, Selkirk."
"If I were you, I'd worry less about my staying power and more about your own. Those ladies are depending on you to entertain them while I'm gone."
"They won't even notice you're gone. See ya when we see ya, Selkirk."
"Just don't hurt yourself."
Marshall gave him a time honored salute in reply before closing the door.
Rory shook his head, smiling, as he turned and began sauntering down the corridor toward the elevator. He'd been telling Marshall mostly the truth when he'd said he needed some fresh air. This motel was a cut above the normal ones frequented by the base soldiers, it being on the outskirts of town and somewhat more expensive than the average. You actually had to pay by the day here rather than by the hour. But when all was said and done, it was still a motel and they all had that same smell. Stale sweat. Stale smoke. And stale sex. It had just been getting to him, lately.
"You're getting old, Selkirk. It never used to bother you." Rory jabbed a finger impatiently at the elevator button, snorting in disgust at this sudden, and unwelcome, bit of introspection. Old at the age of twenty-one. Well hell, maybe for him, it was old. His Aunt used to say she despaired of him ever making it to eighteen. By those lights, he'd already lived three years beyond expectation.
Rory was still waiting for the damn elevator to arrive when he heard a dull thud, followed by a muffled cry of pain. Frowning, Rory glanced down the hall in the direction of the noise. There was a man just exiting a room several doors down. Shit. That looked like McNally, their CO. What the hell was he doing here? This wasn't exactly the kind of place you brought your wife and kids.
"Just a little reminder that I call the shots. Not you." McNally's voice wasn't particularly loud, but Rory had ears like a fox. Or so his Grandfather used to say. And the instincts of one, too. That was what his Aunt had always muttered afterward.
Those same instincts caused him to duck around the corner as McNally turned and headed in his direction. He watched as McNally stepped into the waiting elevator, wearing a look that was beyond smug. Rory felt vaguely sorry for the person back in the room who had been foolish enough to get caught in this man's web. McNally wasn't especially bad as CO's went, but he certainly wasn't brimming with the milk of human kindness. The word authoritarian had been invented for men like him. Rory could just imagine how that translated in the bedroom. No, thank you. Sex was supposed to be about fun. Not about rules and authority and most likely pain. Well, unless you liked pain, of course.
Rory was waiting for the elevator again, after McNally was safely gone, when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to see a young guy that looked about his age come to an abrupt stop and then spin quickly on his heel, with a muttered curse. Wait a sec. He knew that young guy. It was Tanner. The skinny, quiet sharpshooter from their unit. What the hell was *he* doing here? And had that been blood on his lip? How....
Shit. Two and two suddenly made four. Or maybe five. McNally and Tanner. Tanner and McNally. Who would've thought... Hell. He'd sure never thought... It was always the quiet ones... Rory took a step in the sharpshooter's direction, shaking his head in amusement at his own folly. Rule number one. Never get involved. Don't ask. Don't tell. But then again, Rory had never been much for rules. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. Rory still had a life or two left to spare. And there had been something about the look in Tanner's eyes... He couldn't just walk away. So that was that.
"Hey, Tanner. Fancy meeting you here." Rory took a couple more quick steps and placed himself in the sharpshooter's path.
"I ain't in the mood for games, Selkirk." Vin tried to push past the taller man, his face flushing with embarrassment and anger.
"I guess I can understand that. It looks like you've already played one too many games tonight, as it is." Rory raised a brow and glanced pointedly at the split lip the sharpshooter was sporting.
"Ain't none of your business." Vin muttered, looking away. Shit. How much did the other man know? Or guess?
"Probably not. But didn't anyone ever tell you games are supposed to be fun, Tanner? They're not supposed to hurt. Unless you want them to hurt." Rory shrugged, his casual stance at odds with the searching look he was giving Vin. "Did you want them to hurt, Tanner?"
Vin met his gaze for a split second before shoving roughly past. "Ain't none of your damn business, Selkirk. Why don't you go bother whoever it is that you came here with. Most hookers charge by the hour, ya know."
"It's kind of you to show such concern for my financial well being, Tanner. Kind, but unnecessary. I'm already paid up for the night and Marshall is happily entertaining everyone in my absence. So, you see? There's nothing to worry about."
"Ain't worried." Vin growled, stalking back down the hall, away from the elevators. And Rory.
"Well, maybe you should be worried. About yourself. Not about me." Rory followed Vin down the hallway, wondering if maybe he should just walk away after all. He hardly knew the sharpshooter. Vin had kept pretty much to himself since joining the unit and he seemed to like it that way. He did his job and could be trusted to get it right the first time, which was all anyone really cared about.
"Who the hell do you think you are? Dear Abbey?"
"Well, I always fancied myself more as a Dr. Ruth type."
"Just go away." Vin sighed, opening the door to the room he and McNally had so recently shared.
"I'd say, make me, but I'm a lover not a fighter."
Vin snorted. He'd seen Selkirk fight. And he could only guess at how he fucked. Was it as rough and dirty as his fighting?
"Ain't they the same thing?" Vin walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, picking at a loose thread on the blanket as he spoke.
"No. They're not." Rory sat down on the adjoining bed and regarded the sharpshooter thoughtfully. "So, are you gonna tell me the story about you and McNally or what?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Beats the hell out of me."
"It ain't like me and you are friends."
"Nope."
"I ain't looking to be rescued. I can take care of myself."
"Well, you'd be a sorry excuse for a Ranger if you couldn't. So I'm guessing that maybe you just don't know any better."
"What're you talking about?"
"Does it ever feel good, Vin?"
"What?"
"Sex. Fucking. Doing the nasty. You know. What you and McNally presumably do together."
"Well, it... yeah... I reckon... what the hell kind of question is that?"
"It's a simple one. I'm asking if it feels good when McNally fucks you? I'm asking if you've ever not felt pain? It doesn't take a degree in astrophysics to answer this question, Tanner."
"The pain is no big deal. It's just part of the package." Vin shrugged, not sure what Rory was after. Getting fucked always hurt a little. Sometimes it was worth it. Sometimes it wasn't. That was life.
"Geez, you're a soft sell if you believe that. And I've got some ocean front property back on the Res in Arizona that I can get ya, dirt cheap."
"You know, you and Marshall ain't nearly as funny as you think you are." Vin scowled.
"You just have no sense of humor, that's all."
"Just get out, Selkirk." Vin was suddenly beyond tired. His lip hurt. Most of the rest of him hurt, too. McNally wasn't exactly the gentlest of lovers. Although he wasn't the worst one Vin had ever had. Tonight was the first time he'd ever actually hit Vin. And it would be the last. Vin would put up with a lot of shit, but a man had to draw the line somewhere. Ditching McNally for good this time would mean a lot of cold, lonely nights ahead of him though, watching guys like Marshall and Selkirk pass him by while he sat around and went blind whacking off over the latest copy of Guns & Ammo. What a fucking mess his life was. And he'd thought joining the Army and then making the Rangers would turn things around for him. What the fuck was wrong with him, anyway? He'd bet a month's pay that Selkirk didn't have problems like this. No. Selkirk had Marshall. Not McNally. Bastard.
"I can see I have my work cut out for me."
"What work?"
"Project Tanner."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Come here and I'll show you." Rory's sudden smile brought the barest hint of a dimple into play. Vin stared, not sure where Rory was going with this. Was the other man having a joke at his expense?
"You'll show me what?"
"How to get it right."
"How to get what right?"
"Fun. Sex. Games. Fun sex games."
"Is that an invitation to fuck or to be fucked? Cause I didn't think I was your type. Hell, I didn't even know you were into men." Vin was blunt and to the point. He'd had enough talk.
Rory shrugged, lounging back on the bed. "Both. Neither. And no. You're not really my usual type. I tend to like them taller and blonder."
"Like Marshall."
"Yeah. Like Marshall."
"So what is this supposed to be then? A pity fuck?" Vin demanded angrily, cheeks burning.
"Yeah, right. You may not be my usual type, Tanner, but I didn't say anything about you not being hot. Have you looked in a mirror lately? Sorry to disappoint, pal. You're not pity fuck material."
"Oh." Rory thought he was hot? "So what is this about, then?"
"I told you. It's about getting it right."
"What about Marshall? I ain't about to fight a duel over your honor come morning."
"Don't worry your pretty little head, Tanner. I don't have any honor for you to fight over." Rory got to his feet and moved over to stand in front of Vin.
"Just so we're clear." The words came out slightly breathless as Rory skimmed a finger lightly across Vin's lower lip.
"What about McNally?"
"I'll take care of McNally. Don't worry about it."
"I'm not worried. I hardly ever worry. Worry makes you old and wrinkled before your time. It would be a crime to do that to this face. Kind of like spray painting Kilroy was here on the Mona Lisa, don't ya think?"
"How the hell do you ever fit through a doorway with a head that big?"
"I manage." Rory leaned down and kissed him. Vin moaned softly in the back of his throat, arching his head so that his companion could trail kisses down the side of his neck. McNally had hardly ever kissed him. A lot of his lovers had been that way. But not Rory. Rory's lips were everywhere on him. His lips and his tongue and his hands. And they all felt good. Dammit, maybe he *would* be willing to duel with Marshall for this.
Somehow, Rory managed to get their clothes off and ease them both down on the bed without a single awkward moment. Bastard. But a talented one.
"Are we having fun yet, Tanner? Are we getting it right, here?" Rory's voice was husky, laced with just the barest hint of drawl.
God, did he really have to answer that? When Rory was kissing his way down Vin's stomach? Nibbling at the sensitive skin of his inner thighs? Rubbing circles across his nipples with his hands? Using his tongue to....
"Well, are we?"
"Dammit, yes. Yes. We're having fun, ok? We're getting it.... I'm getting it...gaaahhh..." Vin gasped, nearly coming up off the bed as Rory found a particularly sensitive spot with his tongue.
"This is what it's all about, Tanner. Fun. Remember that." Rory whispered those same words later on, as Vin came, shuddering and breathless beneath him.+ + + + + + +
"So I guess you're gonna go find Marshall now?" Vin asked, when he could speak again. He lay against the pillows, watching Rory button his shirt, feeling all the awkwardness they'd managed to avoid earlier.
"What is this this fixation you have with Marshall? I hate to burst your bubble, Tanner, if you were hoping to get into his pants next. Marshall doesn't do guys."
"But I thought you and him..."
"Well, he makes an exception for me. You really want me to tell you the gory details?"
"No." Vin felt like seven kinds of fool. One for each day of the week.
"I'm going to get a soda. You want one?"
"A Pepsi, if they have it."
"I can see I still have my work cut out for me. Barbarian."
"Savage."
"You know it."
"Rory?"
"Let me guess. You want me to get you some sugar laden, artery clogging, processed snack food, in addition to the Pepsi."
"No. Well, yeah. That sounds good. But no. That ain't what I was going to ask."
"What were you going to ask, then?"
"Do you ever... want anything more than ... fun?"
"What else is there?" Rory replied, his tone light. There was only the briefest glimpse of something different in his eyes. Too brief for Vin to see it.
"Yeah. Right. What else. Hurry back. I'm starving."
Vin sighed quietly as Rory left the room. Fun. It was enough for today.
The End
Comments to: mismiz@alltel.net