BITE THE BULLET

By Creed Cascade and SassyInkPen

Pairing: Zeke/Myron

Rating: Adult

************

The ashtray was full of cigarette butts and the bar was scattered with discarded beer bottles. Smoke hung thick in the air. Laughter intermingled with the distorted rumblings of the jukebox. It was playing the same damn love song over and over again. A single word sliced through the noise.

 "FAG."

 Myron stiffened and his knuckles went white as he grasped his half finished beer bottle too tightly. The officer in him turned to locate the source of the trouble and he met the gaze of a soldier sitting at a nearby table. 

The man exchanged a look with his friends and, downing a little bit of liquid courage, he got up from his chair and walked over to Myron. "That's right, I called you a fag," he drawled. "Saw you looking at me." 

Before Myron could even form words to respond, his fist connected with the man's nose. An instant reaction, even as the blood spattered onto his uniform. 

"Fuck!" the man bellowed, stumbling back and clutching his bleeding nose.  

Rising to defend their buddy, three men stumbled from their chairs and circled around Myron. Two of the men managed to pin Myron's arms behind his back, but not before he got a few good shots in. 

"Robinson, get the hell over here and show this fag who's boss!" 

The soldier spit blood onto the floor and smiled at Myron's dilemma. "Not so cocky now, are ya, pretty boy?" 

Myron opened his mouth to respond, but a sharp sucker punch to his stomach caught him off guard, followed closely by a second punch to his jaw. He tried kick out at his attackers and was just starting to put up a struggle when the MPs burst into the room. 

Voices boomed out over the clamour. "Break it up!" 

Myron pulled away from the men holding him, falling against the bar. Strong hands soon grasped and held him upright as the world spun. The shouts from the crowd and the MPs seemed to blur. He felt the hands guide him until he was sitting on the floor and leaning against the bar. Myron pulled his knees up and laid his head down across his folded arms. 

The next thing he was aware of was someone running their hand through his hair. He flinched away from the touch until he heard a familiar voice. 

"LT, I'm here now," Zeke whispered to him. "Everything's gonna be okay. We just gotta get ya outta here." 

<><><><><><> 

After stumbling through the darkened streets, being held up by Zeke's sure hands, he was finally able to rest. As Zeke helped him lie down in the cheap Saigon hotel room, his hazy mind struggled to comprehend everything that had just happened. 

Myron closed his eyes and wished he was drunk enough to simply pass out. "You don't have to be here," he sighed. "Go back to the base." 

"`Fraid not, LT," Zeke answered and sat down on the edge of the mattress. "Got a call from the MPs about this brawl. They wanted to give me a heads up before they had ta inform Brewster." 

"Just tell me you didn't go AWOL?" Myron groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. 

"Nope, just came ta get ya," Zeke answered and didn't even bother to hide his grin. "Didn't expect ta hafta rescue my LT like a cherry." 

"Hey!" Myron protested and struggled to sit up, but as the world began to spin, he flopped back down onto the bed. "Don't forget I outrank you." 

"No, Sir," Zeke said, but he said it with that damn smirk on his face. 

Myron glared at his sergeant and took a quick look around the room. "I fail to see how so-called rescuing me involves a hotel room." 

Zeke reached out and patted Myron's arm gently. "It involves you sobering your ass up enough for me to take you back to base, LT." 

"And Brewster doesn't know?" Myron pressed. 

"Nope," Zeke told him. "If I came and got ya in time, the MPs just report it was a ruckus with a bunch of enlisted men. One of them owes me a favour." 

Myron relaxed visibly. That was one less thing he had to worry about. No one needed to know why the fight had started, particularly Zeke. Thoughts churned over in his mind, trying to grasp why anyone would think that about him. 

"Lookin' thoughtful, LT," Zeke said after a few minutes. "Wanna tell me what got ya inta trouble?" 

"No," groaned Myron. "I got drunk. I got in a fight. End of story." 

"Nothin' is ever that simple with you," Zeke replied and shifted on the bed, moving closer to Myron. A comfortable silence hung in the air between them. Like everything else in their lives, they knew exactly what the other person needed. 

Eventually, Myron pushed himself up on his elbows and looked Zeke straight in the eyes. "Do I look like a fag to you?" he blurted out. 

Zeke's mouth dropped open. "Wha-?" 

An instant blush started to burn on Myron's cheeks as he realized what he had just asked. He groaned inwardly and flopped back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

After taking a few moments to collect himself, Zeke cleared his throat. "Now LT, what makes ya ask a question like that?" 

"Because that's what started that damn fight," Myron admitted, draping his arm over his eyes to hide from Zeke's knowing gaze. 

"Someone called ya fag?" 

"That's what I said, wasn't it?" 

"No, ya asked if I thought you looked like one." Zeke reached out and laid his palm flat onto Myron's chest carefully, watching Myron's reaction to his touch. "And ya don't look like one anymore than anyone else." 

"That's pretty much a non-answer, Zeke," Myron sighed. 

"Well now," Zeke started out slowly. "I have wondered from time to time…" 

Myron's eyes snapped open and he lifted his head to glare at Zeke. "Why would you think that?" 

"`Cause I was hoping it would be true," Zeke answered evenly and his eyes stayed locked with Myron's direct gaze. 

A quick gasp escaped Myron's now parted lips and his eyes widened with shock. He started to shake his head slightly, but still no words would come. 

Zeke's hand still rested on Myron's chest and now started to rub reassuringly. With a gentle push, he eased Myron back down onto the mattress. Cautiously, he moved to lean over Myron, his eyes fixed on parted lips. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Myron croaked, his voice wavering with the uncertainty. 

"You're lookin' at a fag," Zeke told him quietly. It was so easy for Zeke to lean forward and brush his lips against Myron's. 

Myron pushed Zeke and squirmed away until he was pressed against the headboard. "I'm not like that…" 

Zeke stood up and put one knee on the bed, leaning forward to grasp Myron's hips, pulling him back to the centre of the bed. "I think you are," Zeke said, his voice deep and even. 

"I'm not," Myron protested. He started to struggle against Zeke's hold, but stopped when he felt one of Zeke's hands slide across his thigh to his crotch. "Zeke, please… I can't do this…" 

"Yes, you can," Zeke insisted. Now he was steadily massaging Myron's cock through his fatigues. "Just have to trust me, Myron." 

"I trust you, but I really have to leave," Myron stammered. He tried to stop the groan that escaped his lips as Zeke's touch became too intimate. The need to escape pushed him to fight back. He pushed Zeke's hands away and tried to get up. 

"Easy now," Zeke tried to calm Myron. Taking in Myron's panicked expression, he came to a quick decision. With one hand he kept Myron pinned to the bed and with the other, he started to unbuckle his belt. "Let me make it easier for you." 

Myron's eyes widened, even as Zeke climbed over him and pulled his hands above his head. "What do you mean make it easier for me?" 

"If you can't run from me, then you're not asking for it." 

Myron felt the belt close around his wrists as Zeke bound him to the headboard. As Myron tested the strength of it, his body started to relax when he realized he wasn't going anywhere. 

"I shouldn't let you do this…" 

Zeke laughed and started to unbutton Myron's shirt. "Well, ya ain't now... are ya?" 

Despite his vulnerable position and nervousness, Myron couldn't help but scowl up at Zeke. "You tied me down." 

"Yep," Zeke agreed with a smile. Myron's shirt was now completely open, allowing Zeke to run his hand freely over the pale skin. "Now just let it happen, Myron." 

"I don't think so," Myron tried to say, but his voice came out much shakier than he intended. 

Zeke paused and met his eyes. "You don't have any choice," he said softly. He gave the boy a slight grin, and then added, "It's all my doing, see?" 

Myron stared, open-mouthed. He started to say something rude, but snapped his mouth shut. He had just enough sense to realize that he'd better tread carefully. The feel and taste of his sergeant was still fresh in his mind. Slowly he nodded, not sure what he was doing, but certain that Zeke did, "Right... all your doing..." He relaxed and let Zeke guide him. 

Zeke rewarded Myron with a kiss that turned from gentle to passionate. Myron was kissing him back. With Myron's arms bound, the best Zeke could do was push his shirt aside to get at Myron's crotch. As he continued to kiss the boy, he used one hand to unbutton his fly. A quiet moan escaped Myron's lips as Zeke worked his hand inside and grasped his cock. 

When Zeke spoke again, his breath teased Myron's lips. "Been wanting to do this for a long time." 

"Oh, god..." groaned Myron. He rocked his hips awkwardly, caught between wanting to pull away and wanting to thrust harder into Zeke's warm hand. "Why do you want this?" he gasped, "Why do you want to make me feel this way? It's not right-" 

"Feels plenty right to me," shot Zeke, pulling back to stare directly into Myron's eyes. "I know what people say, what they think, but it ain't wrong, Myron. You're different, like me, but you ain't wrong. Got that?" 

"I don't want to be different…" 

"But, ya are," Zeke insisted with a bit more steel to his tone. His hand now worked Myron's cock with slow, practised strokes. "Saw that from day one, Myron." 

"No…" Myron denied, but his hips lifted slightly off the bed and he pushed into Zeke's grasp. "I'm not." 

"Hush," Zeke all but cooed. Despite Myron's denials, he could see the boy giving into the pleasure. 

"Zeke!" Myron panted, struggling more as his pleasure grew. "I don't want to hush, we shouldn't be doing this at all. Do you have any idea what kind of trouble we could in?" 

Zeke sensed the panic welling up in the boy and slowed his pace. He couldn't quite bring himself to stop, but he couldn't ignore the situation either. "Now settle down. You won't get in any trouble if you don't call attention ta yourself." 

He slid his hand up the boy's neck, caressing his jaw with his thumb as he resumed his pace, stroking harder... intent on making Myron feel it. "That means no more bar fights." 

Myron's eyes were wild and fixed on him. 

"That means no other guy but me," Zeke continued and squeezed Myron's cock to emphasise his point. "Real easy, Myron. Don't need that booze to make those feelings go away. I can do it." 

"Stop…" Myron begged, his voice tense. 

"Nope," Zeke said and shook his head. "Never gonna stop now. Not once I caught ya."

Myron moaned and thrust against the increased pressure, arching his hips and tugging against the belt that held him. His voice was breathless and he panted, "What do you mean, never?" 

A slow grin spread across Zeke's face. "You don't think I'm gonna be able ta resist you now, do ya?" Zeke was able to read a moment of intense longing in Myron's eyes that contradicted any protests Myron voiced. "Not just this, not gonna be able to get rid of me, Myron." There it was again. The look in Myron's eyes that proved Zeke had struck the right chord with the boy. "Promise not to abandon you of my own free will." 

Zeke would only leave him in death and he sealed the promise with another kiss. He did not expect an answer from Myron. It was all too much for him. Too overwhelming. Instead he just increased his strokes, smiling when he felt Myron's entire body tense. 

Myron was panting and gritting his teeth, wrists tense against his bonds. He turned his head, keeping his face away from Zeke. 

Zeke tightened his grip, "Come on, Myron... quit fightin' what you are. Let go, now." 

A tense look crossed Myron's face, then he let out his breath, ending in a moan as he came hard. His hips bucked and his feet scrabbled at the blanket. After a few moments, he calmed and lay there with his eyes squeezed shut, a deep flush on his cheeks. 

"Let me go now," Myron said in a thick voice. 

"Why?" Zeke's hand still touched Myron's now over sensitive cock. 

"Because you're done!" Myron snapped and struggled against the belt. "Now let me go!" 

Zeke's answer at first was a deep chuckle that promised so much and he rubbed his own hard cock against Myron's thigh. "We're nowhere near done, Myron." 

Myron sucked in a breath and bit his lip, staring at Zeke. 

"That's right," grinned the sergeant. "You're done, but I ain't." He reached down to unlace Myron's boots, taking his time as he let his eyes roam hungrily over the boy's body. 

"Zeke..." Myron panted, but couldn't quite bring himself to ask the questions he wanted to ask. 

"I know exactly what's running through your mind, Myron," Zeke chuckled and reached up to pat Myron's cheek. "You're all worked up about what I'm gonna do to you. Things ya think you're not ready for yet. You got your mind all caught up on that." 

"Don't patronize me, Zeke," Myron warned, but it was completely futile, even though he still struggled against the belt holding him captive. 

"You can be as pissy with me as you want," Zeke told him. Now that he had Myron's boots off, he started to tug at Myron's pants. "Not gonna stop me. In fact, just makes me want ya more." 

Myron watched helplessly as Zeke pulled his pants off and dropped them to the floor. His heart started thudding in his chest when the sergeant grabbed the waistband of his shorts and pulled those off as well. He'd never felt so exposed in his life. 

"Oh man..." groaned Zeke as he ran his hands up Myron's lean thighs. "You know how long I've been wantin' to do this?" 

Myron was breathless and trembling, trying to shut the sensation of strong hands out of his mind, but failing completely. He couldn't deny the part of him that liked it. "Are you serious?" he gasped. 

"Yup. Since the day I first set eyes on ya. I knew." 

"No," Myron groaned immediately and again gripped the belt binding his wrists. "I'm not like that. You know that…" 

"Wasn't gonna push you like this at first," Zeke told him and started to undo the buttons on his own pants. "But I'm just a man, LT. Don't know what's gonna happen tomorrow, so I'm not willing to wait." 

"You waited all this time," Myron croaked. His eyes were glued on Zeke's fingers as they worked slowly and his pants fell open. 

"True," Zeke agreed with a smirk. "But not anymore." 

He reached for a bottle of lotion sitting on the nightstand and squeezed a dab into his hand, rubbing it around with his fingers. 

"Zeke..." Myron prodded nervously. 

"Hush, now. I know what I'm doin', I'll take care of ya." Slipping his hand down between Myron's legs, he started massaging the opening, fingers entering slowly, bit by bit. 

Myron gasped and shut his eyes. His cheeks were flaming red and he felt too hot. He knew he could make Zeke stop, if he really wanted to, certain that if he put up a big enough fuss, the sergeant would give in...but he couldn't quite bring himself to do it. 

"Breathe, Myron," Zeke reminded him. 

Myron took in a shuddering breath when he felt himself breached by Zeke's fingers. The burning was close to pain, but at the same time it caused his cock to ache. He felt hot all over. He told himself the need he felt for more was just the wish for it to be over. It seemed like it was forever and that Zeke was trying to drive him mad. 

"Do it!" Myron finally gasped through gritted teeth. 

"Easy now," purred Zeke, trying to suppress a grin. He knew Myron's internal struggle was no laughing matter, but it *was* damned adorable. 

"Zeke!" Myron pleaded. "We need to get out of here, we don't have a lot of time..." 

"We got all the time in the world, don't you worry 'bout that." Zeke rolled Myron to his side and eased up behind him, brushing his straining cock against the bare skin of Myron's backside. He couldn't help but moan softly. 

Myron bit his lip and gripped the belt that bound his wrists. It had been pleasurable up to this point, but now he expected pain. He could feel Zeke's heavy breath against his neck and the sensation of stretching as Zeke pushed deep inside. 

He tried to focus on the pain. It would give him strength to say no to Zeke in the future. But all too quickly, the pain passed and Myron couldn't stop the deep moan that escaped his lips. Zeke thrust slowly, causing new sensations that made Myron's cock leak. 

Zeke wrapped an arm around the boy and held him tightly as he pushed deeper. "Ya can't deny it now, Myron...I can hear how much you want it." 

"No," groaned Myron through gritted teeth, even as he arched his back. "No, I...this isn't me. I just can't help it. I'm not a fag." 

"Would you listen to yourself?" said Zeke with narrowed his eyes, then he reached down and grasped Myron's cock. Frustration and anger at what Myron was putting himself through drove him on, and he pushed the boy forward, leaning on him as he started to fuck him in earnest, stroking him roughly in rhythm. 

Myron squeezed his eyes shut and let out a long, low moan. When he came all over Zeke's hand, he cried out Zeke's name. Zeke leaned over and bit Myron's shoulder lightly as he, too, came. He didn't move afterwards, but held Myron close, running his hand over Myron's hip, knowing the boy would say something. Knowing Myron like he did, he knew it would probably be something heated in an attempt to push Zeke away and punish himself. 

"I hate you for this," Myron finally said, but he wasn't struggling. 

"No, ya don't," Zeke answered and kissed the spot on Myron's shoulder he had just bit.

 "I'm not a fag," Myron hissed. 

"Fine, you're not," Zeke answered calmly. "Never liked that word anyway." 

Myron huffed a little under his breath in growing frustration. "You can let me go now. You got what you wanted." 

"Hey now..." said Zeke with an edge to his voice. "Is that what ya really think? Is that what you think of *me*?" He reached up and yanked the belt free, sitting back on the bed and fixing Myron with a searching gaze. 

Myron sat up rubbing his wrists, eyes everywhere but on Zeke.

 "We should get back to base," Myron answered, his eyes looking down at the shabby bed sheets. 

"I asked you a question, Myron." Zeke's tone demanded an answer. It was a tone he rarely, if ever, used with the young man. 

"I… I liked it," Myron blurted out. He balled one of his fists until his fingernails dug into the flesh of his palm. "Happy?" 

"Well, yeah, I would be... if you looked it." 

Myron finally looked up at him, expression held tightly. "I'm a fag, Zeke. I'm exactly what they said. I've tried to deny it for so long, but it finally caught up with me." 

"Is that so bad?" Zeke asked, keeping a check on his own reactions. He had to remind himself how hard this would be on someone like Myron. 

"I... I..." Myron stammered, and by the look he was giving Zeke, Zeke was pretty sure he'd made his point anyway. 

"Look, kid... I'm sorry," Zeke told him, feeling a knot in his stomach. "I shouldn't have pushed ya into something you weren't ready for." 

Myron immediately recognized the expression on Zeke's face. That was a look of guilt… the kind of guilt that tore him up inside over his daughter and when he lost a man in action. Except now Myron knew he was the one causing Zeke this pain. 

"It wasn't that bad," he said quickly. 

"It won't happen again," Zeke said, shaking his head. He grabbed his t-shirt and pulled it on. 

"Zeke…" Myron ground out and ran his hand nervously through his bangs. "I just…" 

"We'll head back now, LT." 

Something inside Myron seemed to snap when he saw the anguish on Zeke's face. He leaned over and kissed Zeke quickly on the lips. He pulled back after a moment and licked his lips nervously. "I said it wasn't that bad, okay?" he whispered. 

Zeke faltered for a moment and then put a gentle hand on Myron's waist. "I can't help the way I feel, Myron." 

"I know that," said Myron, a faint grin crossing his face. "Just... give me a little time..." 

Zeke brightened at this, his eyebrows raised in question. When Myron shrugged nervously, Zeke said, "I gotta admit, I was lookin' for a little better than `…*it wasn't that bad'*..." 

Myron flushed and muttered, "Give me a little time on that, too." 

"See now, Myron," Zeke answered and ran a gentle finger over Myron's flushed cheeks. "Time's somethin' we don't got a lot of… I apologize for pushin' ya before you were ready, but…" 

Myron's eyes lifted with a wary gaze. "But?" 

Now Zeke gifted Myron with a little smirk. "But I think ya liked the decision being taken away from you after all." 

"I didn't…" 

"Hush now, LT," Zeke cut him off. "You don't have to worry about it. I'll never do anything you *really* don't like." 

Myron closed his eyes and sighed, "But how will you know?" 

"Trust me," Zeke answered. "I'll know." 

END.