Hearts Under Fire (14 page)

Daniel rested against the cool, hard surface, and he trembled. Clark made a tender noise, and Daniel swallowed old fear and let old resistance slide down the drain.

“Thank you,” Clark said against Daniel’s neck, then busied himself with the task of soap and water. He washed Daniel’s arms while his mouth kissed Daniel’s shoulders, chest, and collarbone. He kept one hand steady on Daniel’s body at all times.

When he was finished with the upper body, Clark sank into a crouch, resting on his heels instead of his bruised knees, Daniel was glad to note. Clark ran the soap and his hands from the juncture of Daniel’s leg and body down to the top of Daniel’s foot. His palms glided, fingers digging into muscles, and Clark kissed Daniel’s hipbones, first on one side and then the other.

Daniel let his head fall back against the tile, hand settling on Clark’s hair. Clark shifted his weight and let the water run over Daniel’s skin. Sighing, he stood, licking from Daniel’s navel to the ring through the left nipple. But he merely kissed the skin there and straightened, setting aside the soap and pulling Daniel into an embrace.

Resting his forehead on Clark’s shoulder, Daniel couldn’t figure out why Clark sometimes felt like such a threat when everything the man did was considerate, gentle, and seemed to point toward...

For a moment Daniel’s thoughts got completely tangled, and then he remembered Clark saying,
“I’m... happy to give you anything you want, Daniel.”

Clark tightened his arms around Daniel.”I think we’re clean enough to sleep. Let’s get you dried off and to bed?”

Daniel looked up and got lost in Clark’s tenderness. The tone and the lilt of the question got by all his defenses; it took exactly that combination of things from Clark to make him feel safe. He smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Okay, then,” Clark murmured, kissing Daniel’s cheek before shutting off the water. He got the door open and kept one hand on Daniel’s elbow as they stepped into the bathroom. Clark grabbed a towel and wrapped it around Daniel, making fast work of drying him off.

Daniel grinned. “Now I feel about five... “ He wrapped the towel about himself when Clark was done and smiled.

“I like taking care of you,” Clark said with a chuckle. He shrugged and grabbed a towel for himself, running it over his hair.

“You do, don’t you?” Daniel asked with wonder in his voice.

“I do,” Clark answered, kissing Daniel’s shoulder. “And right now, all I want is to pass out with you for a while.”

Clark tossed the towel over the shower door and headed into the bedroom. Daniel gently dried off his hair, tossed his towel after Clark’s, and walked into the bedroom that still smelled of sex and sweat.

Clark ripped back the covers and switched off the lamp before grumbling to himself and walking through the apartment. He locked the door and shut off the lights.

Daniel slipped between the sheets naked, pulled the covers over himself, put his head on a pillow, and closed his eyes, waiting for Clark’s return. The mattress moved in warning before Clark wrapped around him, and Daniel shivered as he melted into the embrace. Being entwined with Clark was far nicer than Daniel would ever have suspected, and he was so tired that even the unfamiliar feeling of being held couldn’t keep him awake.

“Night,” Clark mumbled, breath already slowing.

“G’night, Clark,” Daniel whispered, closing his eyes and slipping into sleep.

Chapter 8

Clark groaned and watched Daniel moving above him. The slide of his lover in and out of his body threatened to burn him alive.

“God... yeah... baby... fuck...”

Clark frowned and blinked, grabbing Daniel’s face with both hands. That voice was not Daniel’s. Those words were not ones Daniel would use.

Brian smiled down at Clark, slow and sweet, and then his mouth opened in a silent scream. His gaze grew still and glazed, and he collapsed on top of Clark in a heavy pile of dead weight.

Eyes flying open in the darkness, Clark held his breath. He tensed every muscle in his body and didn’t let himself shake. He clenched his teeth hard enough to make pain rip up the side of his face into his eye, but he made no sound. And it was important to do this because... because...

I’m not alone.

At some point, Clark had slid away from Daniel and now lay on his back near the edge of the bed. Daniel faced away from Clark, and he seemed sound asleep.

Oh, holy fuck. What have I done?

Moving cautiously, Clark swallowed, breathed silently, and rested an arm over his eyes.

Did I tell him? In the kitchen?

Clark tensed again when he wanted to flinch at the memory. Such a cowardly reaction to things already done was not allowed.

And then he...

Clark tried not to feel his lower body. He ignored his cock when it twitched in memory of delicious sensation.

In the shower, I...

It was easy to forget himself when lost in Daniel. Easy to forget rules or baggage, anything and everything. He still
wanted.
Clark searched and couldn’t quite find regret over his behavior, but he still felt --

Exposed. Middle-of-the-desert wearing a neon target that says, “HURT ME NOW.”

Clark tried to organize his thoughts. The dream kept playing over in his mind, but that wasn’t so bad; it was an old dream. Thinking that Brian was Daniel was new, however.

Swallowing and shaking despite himself, Clark rolled onto his side and bit his lip. He looked longingly at Daniel and refused to kick himself for showing how worried and alone and stunned he felt. It was dark. Daniel was asleep. No witnesses, no worries.

A storm brewed in Clark’s head, and all he could think was that Daniel meant stability. Moving so as not to disturb his slumbering sanity, in the form of one resting brunet, Clark inched closer and laid a hand on Daniel’s hip. He remained still for a moment -- waiting -- and when Daniel didn’t move and his breathing didn’t change, Clark let himself shiver against the mattress.

He’s asleep. It’s okay.

Closing his eyes, Clark saw Brian’s face. Saw the grit and dust in the air as Brian died. He remembered the incredible, insane relief when Daniel told Clark he was wanted, that Daniel would keep him as best Daniel could. Clark shuddered hard and hated it, and a quiet noise escaped his throat: a mixture of old pain, new worry, and constant self-debasement.

“Clark?” Daniel asked, turning. Clark froze. “What’s the matter?”

Head tilted down and eyes closed, Clark found he had no idea what to do. He wanted to say, “Nothing,” apologize for waking Daniel, and then smile as they resettled and went back to sleep. It was early -- probably around four a.m. -- and it was not the right moment to talk about anything.

I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to feel, I don’t know if I can do this, I hate myself for being such a mess. And you don’t understand, and I’m terrified I can’t explain it, and how in the hell did we get here so fucking fast?

Daniel wrapped his arms around Clark, hands stroking down Clark’s back, making the muscles jump, and in a sleepy, deep voice, he murmured, “Something is really bothering you. Was it a bad dream or something?”

Clark tried to relax into the touch, but his body jerked again, instead.
“Yeah,” he croaked. “Just a bad dream. Sorry -- didn’t mean to wake you.”

Daniel hummed and softly chuckled. “It’s okay. I’m not used to sleeping with someone is all. It’s kind of new to me. Do you... would you want to talk about it? Or talk about something else so you can go back to sleep?”

Clark’s mouth opened and closed, and he hoped it was too dark for Daniel to see that. “I...” Clark swallowed. “Just the bombing... sort of...” Clark sighed. “No. Not the bombing.” He covered his face in his hands and rolled onto his back.

Daniel waited until Clark settled. “I’m listening.”

Clark took a deep breath. “I have a recurring dream where the other...” Clark paused and then whispered, “Brian. We’re in bed and then... he dies. On me. Just falls.” Clark tried to make the explanation matter-of-fact, but his voice was raspy and thick.

Daniel’s rested an arm over Clark. “That would be a really nasty dream.”

Clark felt the edges of panic, and for a second he had no idea why. His hands fell away from his face so he could breathe deeply and try to calm down, and he rocked in Daniel’s embrace.

Oh fuck. I said Brian’s name, and I never admit that we were together. Shit. Shitshitshit...

Clark turned to Daniel, his eyes finding the other man’s in the dark. “Please -- don’t... don’t say anything about
him
. Nobody knows about anything that happened, but they know he died. And… God help me, if his family ever... They’d all hunt me down in a lynch mob even now, so please just --” Clark paused to pant and realized that he was babbling and semi-incoherent. His mind told him that Daniel didn’t even
know
Brian’s family. Or last name. But it would be so easy to find out.

No, that made no sense. This was Daniel, who wouldn’t hurt him like that. Probably. Definitely. Maybe?

A part of Clark observed his own horror with confusion and cold hatred, and Clark couldn’t breathe.

“Clark, I won’t say a word,” Daniel said clearly.

“It was just that night,” Clark said, rapid-fire. “So stupid... but he was... and I wanted... That’s all, but... oh... God...” Clark felt sick. And he couldn’t get clear of the fog to find a shred of connection to sanity. He clutched at Daniel, felt the solid weight of the other man. He moved them both so that he could wrap himself around Daniel. “No one knows,” he said against Daniel’s skin.

Daniel held onto Clark, who clung to him in the dark. “I’m glad you got the night,” he said and moved so that his lips were close to Clark’s. “No one else needs to know about you and Brian. He loved you, kept you for that night.”

Clark’s chest rose and fell in a frantic rhythm. His hands gripped Daniel, and his heart pounded in a deafening roar in his skull. He sucked in air with Daniel’s mouth still hovering over his. Daniel sighed and breathed softly into Clark’s mouth, then closed the gap, locking their lips open so that Daniel could take a slow, deep breath from Clark’s lungs.

Panic flash-flared when Daniel pulled air away, and Clark wanted to scream in the second he had to wait until Daniel breathed slowly, deeply into Clark. Like a bird of prey suddenly catching sight of something tasty moving on the ground, Clark’s mind turned away from the maelstrom of panic and saw only what Daniel did. How it felt. How it needed to work.

Clark inhaled through his nose and blew breath into Daniel’s mouth, eyes blinking but unseeing and body coming down off a cliff of tension. Daniel breathed in Clark’s gift and again sent air back to Clark, steady and slow, his lips gentle against Clark’s, his hands and arms firm.

A quiet sound of gratitude and relief came from Clark’s chest, and it took him a moment to realize it really was him who had made the noise. He repeated the same pattern of air flow and felt Daniel pull breath from him. Clark thought about water covering his face and not knowing when he would be allowed the next snatch of oxygen; he thought about Mother Nature taking and giving as she saw fit. There was such peace in the space between the hope for air and the certainty and trust that someone else had to give it.

Hands relaxing from their death grip on Daniel’s skin, Clark let Daniel take control. The hurricane of fear and panic blew away from shore.

Daniel stroked Clark’s back and repeated the calm, steady exchange a few more times before he broke off and kissed Clark. Daniel rubbed his chin against Clark’s hair. “Better now?”

Clark’s mind was alert but not frantic. He licked his lips and moved down until his forehead pressed against Daniel’s chest. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I’m... sorry.”

Daniel pulled Clark closer until Clark could hear Daniel’s steady heartbeat. “I’m glad I could help. No reason to be sorry.”

“Mm,” Clark murmured, letting himself enjoy being held despite everything. Daniel was safe and stable, and Clark was awfully tired of fighting uphill battles.

“I’m sorry I woke you. But glad you’re here.” Clark shifted and felt warmth in his face. Blushing. But in the dark, thank God.

“I don’t like it when you’re so scared.” Daniel hesitated. “May I... may I ask you something?”

Clark melted at the affection and kindness in Daniel’s voice, even though he felt like he should brace for impact. “You may.”

“Can you -- will you tell me about Brian? Maybe tell me why you called me by his name when you were...” Daniel took a deep breath. “When I finally got the nerve to grab you on the mountain?”

Clark blinked and eyelashes dragged on Daniel’s bare skin. As was always the case, Clark felt his throat close, his heart hammer, and his guts twist at the question about Brian. Clark swallowed, tongue too thick for his mouth.

“He never listened when I told him I was fine,” Clark whispered. “Made me take care of myself. My mother died just before I enlisted. My father just before I started SF training. I was a little self-destructive. So you reminded me of him. That’s... what I can answer.” Clark spoke in a quiet rush before he thought about it too much. “If you want to know more, asking won’t work.”

“It won’t?” Daniel paused and asked, “What will?”

Clark thought of all the times he’d been asked to expound on how he
felt
about nearly being blown to bits and watching his friends die. And he never said a word about Brian, because it would disrespect the family’s memory of their enigmatic, straight-as-an-arrow soldier son. The truth was dangerous for many reasons, and Clark counted them like his own private rosary.

All of it was painful -- every single memory -- and the physical pain wasn’t nearly bad enough to drown the guilt. What was an eye or an arm compared to losing a life? And Clark didn’t dare let any of it go. The pain was all that he had left. He couldn’t save Brian, but Clark could hide anything that might disgrace the fallen soldier.

At least, that’s how it began -- the fear of maligning Brian somehow. Later, Brian and everything connected to him became too personal for Clark to discuss. As the years passed, Clark started to feel beyond stupid for being so attached to a man after only one night.

Clark blinked, thought of Daniel in his bed, and nearly drowned beneath the irony.

Daniel was the second exception in Clark’s life. Such exceptions were to be trusted. Clark was good with people, good at knowing what made them live and breathe. He was good at recognizing those who were different from the rest, even if sometimes he missed it at first. That tended to happen with the exceptions, it seemed. They stayed below the radar until it was too late. Until they became too important to dismiss as they transformed into the people who could save pieces, or perhaps all, of Clark’s life. Brian had helped him through attempted self-destruction by alcohol and violence after his parents died. And now Daniel...

I need him to know me. I want him to understand. He’s safe. I’m safe with him. And he might damned well need to know everything, considering.

“You’d have to do what three therapists, all my friends, and the military didn’t do.” Clark’s voice was so quiet, he almost didn’t hear it himself. “You could... would have to...” Clark shifted and felt hot all over. “You could
order
me to tell you about my relationship with Brian.”

***

Daniel’s heart pounded in his throat. He didn’t want to know about this other man, this one and only who held so much of Clark’s scarred, scared heart. Daniel didn’t want to find himself lacking, especially since he felt lost about exactly what to do with this man who infuriated him, turned him on, and made him so afraid he was going to fail them both.

Ordering Clark to do anything, even based on what Daniel knew, what small research he’d been able to do after that lunch talk, seemed impossible. At least he knew that of the three people killed in the explosion that ended Clark’s career, only one had been named Brian.

If there’s any chance at all, I have to take it.

Daniel took a slow breath, and with a hard twist of his body, he rolled on top of Clark. He used his desperation and fear to light up his voice with ferocity. “Sergeant Maxwell Clark. Report, man. You have to tell me what you were doing with Sergeant Brian Patterson and why you were together on the day he died. I need to know the situation, before I can...” To his horror, his voice broke, and he ended on a whisper. “... before I can take responsibility for you, soldier.”

Clark stared at Daniel. Daniel waited for long seconds until Clark gasped a breath and made a noise of pain, but relaxed in Daniel’s grip.

“Sir... yes... Sir...” Clark whispered. He closed his eyes. “Anything... Sir...”

Daniel struggled to get his voice steady. “Tell me how well you knew him.”

“Patterson and I met in boot camp,” Clark answered immediately, voice clipped. “Everyone liked him -- including me -- but there was no time for anything except PT and sleep. Didn’t even occur to me to want time for anything else.” Clark shook his head, eyes still closed.

“Years later, and I’m stationed in Kuwait with Detachment Charlie. I’m the intelligence, and Patterson is one of our weapons sergeants. It’s... fate. That’s what he said when he saw me again -- ‘Fancy meeting you here. Must be fate.’ I told him it was chance. He said, ‘Nothing good’s left to chance; he’s a corn-fed bitch. Fate’s the fuckin’ queen.’” Clark swallowed and tears began to slip from the corners of his eyes.