Something About Love

It wasn't ever easy.

In a rare moment where there was nothing he was supposed to be doing (well, nothing urgent, anyway), Myron was just lying there alone in the hooch, watching the ceiling and slowly smoking a cigarette. He'd take only the occasional drag, hold the smoke a long time, then let it drift out slowly, slowly to the ceiling.

It helped him think. There was a lot to think about.

He felt young, so fucking young. Out of his depth, out of his league, trying hard to keep up the front. Always keep up the front, no matter what. You're an officer and don't you forget it. Don't let anyone else forget it either. It's what you are, it defines you, and any step away from that appearance, that bearing, will do nothing but fuck you up. Sergeants had it easy, he thought sometimes. Sergeants got the respect of the men, but got to be friends with them as well as being in charge of them. It was a hell of a balance to keep, though. Myron thought about it some more, marveling yet again at how easy Zeke made it look. Friend *and* in charge. . .how was it possible?

Myron himself had a habit of closing off so well that even he could feel his face and eyes turn to cement. It was never easy for him to let his front down. He could do it, temporarily, with Zeke. Could feel that relaxation in his soul, in some particular moments, when everything seemed so easy. It wasn't even during the physical stuff necessarily. The physical stuff, as amazing as it was, was something he could do. Something he could understand and deal with. He loved what it invoked in him, being with Zeke.

It made him whole.

And sometimes, he could let that pervade his spirit. Make him more real. Let down that front. Say something, something real, and look Zeke in the eye, let him see how very much he meant it. It wasn't easy, saying real things. Even when he tried, he wasn't always very good at it. The words didn't seem to be enough to encompass his feelings. Maybe that's why the physical was easier…you could say a whole lot, without saying anything at all.

But when he tried to really speak his heart…he stumbled. What sounded real and true in his head didn't come out that way. But Zeke heard him. Heard both what he said and what he meant. It was a hell of a thing. Myron could stumble and get flustered, look at the floor, the ceiling, at anything except Zeke's eyes and still Zeke would hear him. *Really* hear him.

It was a hell of a thing.

*~*~*~*~*

(Zeke)

Dear lord, how long had it been since I'd kissed someone? Been a whole hell of a long time, let me tell you. And first kisses? Ain't nothin' like first kisses. Nothing comes even close.

It's weird, you know? You get used to it, get used to not having someone around to be close to. Get so used to it, you forget how it could be any different, really. You forget how easy it is to touch someone, how easy it is to just turn around and get close. You think you've always been alone, in most ways, alone and used to it, used to it to the point where you don't even know that you miss it anymore.

Then everything changes and you can't imagine how you ever lived without it.

Can't imagine ever getting enough of him. He gets so startled by all of this, it's just absolutely a sight to see. He doesn't deal well, in a one-on-one situation. He's gotten better with the men, made more sure by their trust in him. It was slow to come, but once he became "their" LT, their loyalty became fierce. He's not their buddy, but he belongs to them for sure. He's a good one to put your trust in; takes this war as seriously as he should. He gets that look on his face when he's planning something out in the field, figuring things out the way he would in a schoolbook. It's intense and serious and it's almost like he's super-aware of everything around him, but not even there at the same time.

When he's alone with me, or even just talking about it - talking about us - he veers between that same figuring-things-out look, and this wild intensity where *all* he sees is me…or us. Like nothin' else exists. Hate to admit it, but sometimes I push him on things, on our plans, on our time together, just for a chance to get that reaction out of him. I can live on it for days at a time if need be. It ain't enough, ain't near enough for me, not like being together, but it sure is something and I can hold onto it and let it tide me over.

I catch up to him when he's striding along the compound, those long legs of his just eating up the pace. He's thinkin' hard about something, like usual, and glances at me real quick, stops himself just short of pullin' a real double-take when he sees it's me. I grin, but only to myself, real glad that I'm enough to pull him out of his deep and serious thinkin'.

"Sergeant," he says, not breaking stride. Even still, I can tell he's real aware of me being right there next to him.

"Hey there, LT." My voice is as slow and easy as his is clipped. He don't mean it, I know, he's just playin' it close to the vest like he does. "I got a question for you."

"Yeah?" He glances at me quick and I don't get a real good look at his eyes. He hides a lot, even from me.

"Yeah. I need some time with you - we got some decisions to make - about the team." My pauses are barely discernable, but he hears them. His look is quick but fierce. ~Don't fuck around. Not here.~ He doesn't have to tell me that, I know it real well, but he's not entirely easy with me yet. Still needs to hold his ground, still needs to make sure that I'm thinking just the way he's thinking.

But my request is for real, and he knows it. We do this often, get together so we can take a look at things. The team, the guys, the plan for our next time out. Things like that. And we hadn't talked since our mission the other day, so it was time. He couldn't argue, 'cause I wasn't makin' things up, just to make time with him. Though I have to say that my heart beat a little faster at the thought of the time we were gonna get together.

He's cute when he blushes. He won't look at me as he says, "Yeah, okay." Takes a drag on his cigarette before he says, "Dinner tonight?" He still won't look at me, but his tone is direct and I hear just what he's saying.

"Sounds good, LT." I take a few extra strides along with him, not enough to be noticeable. I'm about to head off on my own, when he looks right at me. The blush is fading on his cheeks, and his eyes hold a clear invitation to what tonight is going to be about.

"See you tonight, then." One eyebrow goes up just a bit as he says it, and if I was like him, I'd be the one blushing right now. A little pushing works on me just as well as it works on him.

Can't quite speak, but I throw him a salute, for lack of anything more coherent to do. He doesn't smile, but I can see the humor in his eyes as he gives a sharp salute back and strides on across the compound, leaving me quite literally in his dust.

That boy is surely something.

~end~

---

back to witchbaby's Tour of Duty slash fic