The man stared across the endless sheet of blue before him. It was almost time. Soon he’d be in the thick of the action, the night air fragrant with the smell of the ocean, of sweat, of blood. He felt a stirring in his pants as he thought about the familiar and satisfying weight of his gun. This was what he had waited for; years of sacrifice and training all boiling down to this one frantic night. He took one last drag from his cigarette and flicked the butt into the endless water that carried him to his destiny. A slight sound to his right startled him out of thought. “Randy,” a voice called quietly. “Are you ready?”
Randy turned and smiled as his bunkmate Johnson stepped out from the shadows. “I’ve been waiting a long, long time for this, Johnny. It’s payback time. Those bastards won’t know what hit them. I’m gonna take me home a soldat ass trophy. How about you? All set?”
Johnson grinned at his friend’s enthusiasm. “I’m more than ready, man. This is for all the boys who never made it this far. This is for my mom and her apple pies. This is for sweet Suzy, the girl I left behind. This is for America. OH SAY CAN YOU SEE –“
Randy reached out to steady his friend. Johnson’s voice throbbed with a passion that Randy knew all too well, but this was not the time for patriotic shout-outs. He gripped Johnson’s shoulder tightly, a small gesture to show his friend that he shared the sentiment. As he stood there holding Johnson in a timeless show of friendship, Randy couldn’t help but be surprised at the barely constrained strength he felt beneath Johnson’s crisp khaki uniform. He licked his lips nervously, unsure of what to do next. How much longer could he live this lie? How many more nights would he spend in sleepless agony, his mind anchored to the firm, muscular engineer who slept in the bunk below? Randy was excruciatingly aware of the heat of Johnson’s gaze. He cleared his throat nervously, unsure of where to begin.
Just then, a shrill cry came from the stairs below. They had landed, and it was time to make their move. Randy shook his head as if to clear his mind of the lustful thoughts he had allowed to creep in. He quickly 1-6’d his position to the rest of his team. “I’m a medic!” he radioed, closely followed by Johnson’s declaration of being an engineer. It was time.
But yet .. he couldn’t leave. They were on a mission, one that could very well cost them their lives. If he didn’t take this chance now, it might never happen again. Randy took a deep breath and braced himself for the aftermath of his confession. “Johnson, I .. I ..”
Randy’s words were cut off by the crush of Johnson’s lips. The two men stood on the deck swaying slightly, held up only by the soft yet unyielding power of entwined tongues and lips and the occasional butt-grope. The soundtrack to their passion rang out as a symphony of air strikes and lobbed grenades. An airstrike roared overhead; the vibration from the destructive firepower adding more sensation to the kiss as it blew out the Axis sea wall. Dizzy with his first taste of hot engineer meat, Randy’s heart soared as quickly as the blood that rushed to the Thompson in his pants. This was what Randy’s war was all about – not death or destruction or blowing up radio communication towers, but the sweet taste of engineer flesh dancing on his tongue. The battle on the beach had just barely begun, but Randy had already won the war.
This was for Tom, who said my updates were really boring lately. Nothing says “non-boring blog” like homo-erotic Return to Castle Wolfenstein stories! :D