Archive of Our Own

The note had been cryptic; just an address, a date, and a time.

Naturally, Actor had been intrigued. The debonair Italian had prepared for the meeting with more than his usual care and ensured that his arrival was ten minutes before the appointed time, so he could survey the location and further assess the reason for the assignation. That he found himself across the street from a smart London restaurant was unsurprising, the building elegant despite the heavy blackout screens that dominated the façade. His handsome face broke into a smile as he speculated on who might have arranged the date.

Perhaps the lovely Lydia, with whom he had spent an engaging evening at the theatre the previous month? Or Felicity, whose adventurous nature quite belied the chasteness of her name. His smile broadened. Whoever it was, he did not doubt that he was in for a memorable and thoroughly enjoyable evening.

It was with some surprise, then, that the Maître D ushered him to a table occupied by a middle-aged man wearing the uniform of a two-star general in the U.S. army. The man’s features bore more than a passing resemblance to someone Actor knew very well. The smile slid from the Italian’s face. The officer rose at his approach.

“Actor?”

The man’s face was lined with concern and Actor’s stomach clenched. Shaking the hand extended towards him, Actor nodded.

“Yes. What has happened to your son, General Garrison?”

The general reached for a tumbler of scotch before replying, cradling it in his hands although he made no attempt to drink from it.

Collecting his thoughts, Actor realized, and waited.

At length, General Garrison spoke. “Actor, what do you know of Craig’s whereabouts?”

Actor had to work hard to hide his surprise at the question. He and the other gorillas had been told nothing about their commander’s location, only that he would be away from the mansion for a week, possibly two. Those two weeks had stretched into six and still there had been no word. The cons had grown increasingly restless, the novelty of not having a mission quickly overridden by their concern for their leader’s continued absence. No amount of small-arms drills and Morse code practice could distract them.

“Very little, General,” Actor answered truthfully. “We did not speak before he left and have been told nothing about his whereabouts since. Colonel Stuart told us that he would be gone for a week, possibly two, but that was six weeks ago.”

The general sighed heavily. “Damn.” Now he did take a sip from his glass. “I had hoped…”

“General?” Actor prompted, when the man lapsed into silence.

“Craig’s been posted as missing, presumed dead.”

Actor’s chest constricted.

Dear God. Not now…

He collected his wits enough to ask a question. “But you don’t believe that, do you, General, or else you would not be here?” He searched the man’s face, desperate for some reassurance, some sign of hope.

The general twirled the tumbler in his hand. “I don’t know what to believe.” The officer’s voice was infinitely weary. “No one knows where he went, or why.”

“Surely Colonel Stuart would be able to…”

“Colonel Stuart’s dead.”

A shocked Actor could only stare at the man.

General Garrison contemplated the contents of his tumbler. “The building took a direct hit. Stuart and half his staff were killed. By the time they’d put the fire out, hardly anything was left standing. No one could tell me where Craig had been sent and, believe me, I asked everyone.” His expression spoke eloquently of his determination and his distress. “It seems only Stuart knew and he won’t be telling anyone now. Whatever records covered Craig’s assignment were destroyed along with the building. I had hoped…”

His voice trailed away and he drained the tumbler, replacing it on the table with deliberate care.

He wants to throw it, Actor realised.

He forced himself to concentrate. “I am sorry, General. If I knew where your son was, I would tell you.”

The general nodded absently, his mind already elsewhere.

“If he was in the field, would he not have posted reports?” Actor reasoned. “Surely Military Intelligence or OSS would have a record of such contacts?”

The general shook his head. “I made enquiries. No one has seen or heard from him since he left the mansion. Even internal German communications haven’t mentioned him. If he’d been captured, he’d have given name, rank, and serial number, but there’s been nothing. That’s why he’s been posted missing, presumed dead.”

“Then he may not be dead?” Actor asked, barely daring to hope.

“That’s what I was hoping. Then I received his effects.” The general looked away. “There was a letter from Craig amongst them. He said things,” the general’s gaze became distant, his mouth twisting into a rueful smile, “things I don’t think he’d have said if he’d thought he’d be coming back. I think he knew.”

Actor, who could think of nothing to say that would in any way assuage the man’s grief, kept silent. The general reached inside his jacket and withdrew an envelope. “He also left this.” He held out the envelope to Actor. “It’s addressed to you.”

His name, written in the familiar hand, constricted the Italian’s throat. The envelope was still sealed.

“You have not opened it,” Actor said softly.

The general shook his head.

“Thank you,” Actor murmured.

“Craig tried to call me before he left. I…” the general’s face twisted in pain, “I didn’t take the call. I’ll regret that decision for the rest of my life.”

Actor forced himself to focus on analysing the American’s words; it was the only way he could momentarily ignore the pain of his own loss. The general retrieved his cap from the table and rose. “I’m sorry I got you here on a fool’s errand.” It was clear he was only holding onto his own self-control by the very slenderest of threads. “Thank you for coming, Actor.” He turned to leave.

“General?”

General Garrison turned back to the table.

“What should I tell the others?” Actor asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” The general’s voice was laced with pain. “I’m sorry, Actor. I just don’t know.”

Actor nodded dumbly and watched as the general walked away, then he sank down into his chair and stared blankly at the wall.

Missing, presumed dead.

He could not believe it.

Craig.

Not like this.

Not alone…

He turned the envelope over in his hands, collecting scattered wits and shattered self-control, opening it only when he had convinced himself that he could bear whatever it contained.

A single sheet of paper on which was written an address in Austria.

He upset his chair in his haste to catch up with the general.

The sound of an accordion carried on the crisp night air, the only noise not dulled by the thick layer of snow that blanketed the ground as the two officers trudged through the snow, following the music to its source.

“You will like this place, Karl!” the leading man assured his companion. “It is wonderfully diverting!”

Actor nodded. A frigid gust of air blew into his face and he gripped the lapels of his greatcoat tightly to his throat, his fingers grazing the gleaming insignia on his collar that denoted his rank of Haupsturmführer. “If we stay out here much longer, I doubt that the relevant parts of me will be capable of enjoying anything.”

His companion chuckled in amusement before halting in front of an innocuous looking guesthouse in the otherwise quiet Alpbach street. “Here we are!” He pushed open the door enthusiastically, already brushing the snow off the sleeves of his heavy woollen coat and stamping his feet to rid his boots of the same. Gazing up at the steep slope of the Inn valley as if admiring the view, Actor surreptitiously checked to see if they had been followed and then entered the building.

Their coats and caps were taken from them by the doorman and then they were ushered inside where they were greeted by the proprietor.

“Good evening, Haupsturmführer Rautenberg. It is so good to see you again.”

Rautenberg acknowledged the greeting with a Teutonic click of his booted heels. “Ah, Glockner. Good evening. As you see, I have brought a friend with me this evening. This is Haupsturmführer Essing. It is his first visit to your establishment and I have promised him an evening that he will not forget. I trust you will not make a liar out of me, eh?”

The proprietor nodded happily at the implied compliment and was swift to reassure his patron. “Indeed not, Herr Haupsturmführer. Would you like schnapps in the bar first?”

Rautenberg shook his head. “No, no. I am eager to make good on my promise to my friend, so I would prefer to go straight up.”

Glockner nodded again. “Of course. If you would please follow me?”

Rautenberg’s smile broadened. He winked encouragingly at Actor, who duly smiled back.

The proprietor led them through the building, past the lounge bar where several lower-ranked officers were being entertained by three dirndl-clad girls, and along the corridor that led to the rooms at the back of the building. At the end of the corridor, they ascended a steep set of stairs that opened onto a narrow landing that was dominated by a heavy, wooden door. Glockner knocked discreetly. The door was opened by a mountain of a man with an acne-ravaged face and a nose that had been broken badly and poorly set at some time in his past. The sheer bulk of the man filled the doorway, effectively blocking their path.

Glockner exchanged quiet words with the doorman, who then stepped to one side to permit them access to the inner sanctum. The room Actor entered was sumptuously furnished, the floor boards dressed with a magnificent tiger skin and the spruce-clad walls painted a dark red and dominated by large, gilt mirrors that reflected the light from a myriad of candelabras. Couches, thickly upholstered in maroon velvet, had been arranged around the room and on them reclined men in various states of undress.

Actor let his gaze sweep the room, casually appraising the other occupants. Several of the men caught and held his gaze, their faces breaking into appreciative smiles. Actor smiled back, allowing no trace of the disappointment he was experiencing to show on his face.

Craig was not amongst them.

“See anything you like, Karl?” Rautenberg asked. He nodded a greeting to a captain who had a near-naked blond in his lap, the young man holding a champagne glass to the officer’s lips. The captain’s hand was busy behind the flap of the lederhosen worn by the young prostitute.

Actor smiled at his fellow officer. “Several, but I was hoping for something very specific.”

Rautenberg laughed affectionately. “A man who knows what he wants! I like that about you, Karl!” He tapped Actor on his chest. “Also that you have a hunting lodge in the Schwarzwald!”

Both men laughed. The captain was already deep in his cups, a state Actor had been cultivating with deliberate care. Whilst he had needed the man to gain entrance to the bordello, he certainly did not want him scrutinising his actions too closely now that they were here.

“And what, precisely, would that specific thing be?” Rautenberg enquired.

Which presented something of a dilemma for the con man. How best to describe Craig Garrison? “A blond, naturally, and handsome...”

“Naturally,” Rautenberg interjected.

Actor smiled benignly at him before continuing, “A man’s man who will not break when I touch him, not some simpering parody of a woman.” Actor thought carefully before continuing and hoped he was making the right choice, ”And I would very much like him to be… inexperienced.”

Glockner frowned and Actor held his breath.

“None of our young men are inexperienced, Captain, although several are blond and most would meet your other requirements. Of course, if you would like one to resist, so he can be restrained and punished, that could certainly be arranged.”

Actor’s stomach rebelled at the prospect of forcing himself on a lover, but the intelligence about this place had been most specific. This was no ordinary brothel. Here, the prostitutes catered to a very specific type of client. He forced himself to continue. “No, I do not require resistance, merely that there is some semblance of this being new to him. It amuses me to believe that I am the first.”

“Ah, a virgin!” The proprietor nodded his understanding. “Such a rare commodity. But if you would be satisfied with the semblance of it,” he looked hopefully, “then all can be arranged as you desire.”

Actor nodded agreeable. “A semblance would be acceptable, thank you.”

Rautenberg looked extraordinarily pleased with himself and again batted the back of his hand against the broad expanse of Actor’s chest. “Didn’t I say you would like this place, Karl?”

Actor smiled good-humoredly. “Indeed, you did, Ernst.”

Glockner gestured towards an unoccupied couch. “If you would take a seat, gentlemen, I will have the young men shown to you.” He looked enquiringly at Rautenberg, “unless you already have ones in mind?”

Rautenberg shook his head. “Not tonight. I would have Karl choose his own fancy. I think I shall be content to watch.”

Actor settled himself on the couch and stretched his long legs out in front of him, feigning nonchalance and a passing interest in the couple kissing passionately on the couch opposite. Both men were dark-haired and, for that at least, Actor was grateful.

So, Rautenberg wanted to watch...

Not an insurmountable obstacle. The man was already three sheets to the wind. Another bottle of champagne would finish him off for the night and once unconscious, Actor would have unrestricted and hopefully unobserved access to Garrison.

Assuming that he was here…

… and not already occupied…

The surging wave of jealousy that coursed through Actor was as unexpected as it was unwelcome. He forced himself to ignore it.

The first two men that were paraded before him were attractive indeed, broad of shoulder and narrow-hipped, but although he nodded appreciatively, he waved them away and looked expectantly for the next. When Craig Garrison appeared, Actor almost didn’t recognize him, so transformed was he by the dark kohl rimming his eyes and the traditional Alpine clothing he was wearing. Shirtless, the short, tan, lederhosen clung snugly to the muscles of Garrison’s buttocks, whilst the bib and braces framed the hard muscles of the man’s abdomen and rubbed suggestively against his nipples. Hair the colour of spun gold snaked in a thin line down Garrison’s belly to disappear tantalizingly beneath the waistband of his breeches.

Stunning.

The realization was deeply shocking and Actor’s sharp intake of breath did not go unnoticed by his companion.

“Jens? You like Jens? Oh, he will be perfect for you, Karl!” Rautenberg’s eyes shone. “He struggled like a calf the first time I saw him breached. He would make the perfect ‘virgin’ for you, although once you've had your cock in his mouth, you’ll find the fantasy a little harder to maintain, I fancy.”

Garrison coloured and dropped his head, blond lashes fanning out on his cheeks, the perfect embodiment of teasing allure.

Actor clamped his teeth together so hard that his jaw ached.

Craig had allowed himself to be taken by the patrons of the club? Had fellated them and let them use his body for their pleasure?

He could scarcely believe it.

When he had learnt of the establishment’s “business”, he had assumed that Garrison had been employed in some menial or administrative capacity: a bar-tender perhaps, or a bouncer. It had never occurred to him that Garrison might be one of the prostitutes. The American had never given any indication that he found men sexually attractive and Actor would have laid money on the officer being as heterosexual as the next man.

Except the next man was apparently to be himself...

“Would you like to bathe, Herr Haupsturmführer?” Glockner asked solicitously. Actor threw an enquiring glance at Rautenberg, who nodded encouragingly. “Go, go. They have a quite delightful bathhouse here. I will amuse myself with…” the portly captain gazed around the room and gestured towards a slim, dark-haired youth lounging provocatively on one of the couches, “Gerhard there, and you can use the time to become better acquainted with Jens. Just don’t start anything without me, eh?” Rautenberg elbowed Actor playfully in the ribs.

“Excellent,” Glockner smiled expansively. “Jens will attend you. Be sure to tell him what you desire, Herr Haupsturmführer. You will find him most eager to please.”

Actor nodded with considerably more enthusiasm than he was feeling and wondered, not for the first time, what the hell he had let himself in for.

Alone in the bathhouse, the Italian and the American were finally able to talk.

“Actor!” Garrison shook the man’s hand warmly. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but what the hell are you doing here?” Turning, he rummaged inside a large, pine dresser in search of soap, towels and a washcloth.

“I’ve come to get you out,” Actor replied. He stripped out of his uniform while Garrison’s back was turned and climbed into the steaming tub, the sooner to hide all evidence of the effect that the American’s proximity was having on him. “An extraction has been arranged for Tuesday night, provided the weather does not deteriorate further.”

Garrison’s head bowed on a heartfelt sigh. “Finally! I thought I was here for the duration.”

“Why are you here?” Actor asked, carefully closing his thighs around his erection. It was wretchedly uncomfortable, but nowhere near as unpleasant as having to explain it to his commanding officer and friend.

“They didn’t tell you?” Garrison looked vaguely shocked. When Actor shook his head, the American dragged a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” His hands busied themselves with soap and flannel. “I was sent to identify the clientele of this establishment so their names could be leaked to the German High Command. You know that the Nazis are overtly intolerant of homosexuality, so it was expected that they’d be removed from command immediately and most probably shot, thus destabilizing the command-structure in the region as well as undermining morale.”

Actor stared at him incredulously. “That was your mission?”

Garrison’s expression was grim. “That’s what it turned out to be.”

The Italian’s eyed his commander pensively. “Colonel Stuart did not explain this when he offered you the mission, did he?”

Surely even Stuart did not have the authority to order Garrison to whore for the Allies…

“Oh, there was no ‘offering’,” Garrison confirmed, his face twisting into a brittle smile. “I was ordered to take the mission and Stuart left out a few key details when he briefed me, like the fact that this place was a male cat-house and I’d be one of the johns.”

“Bastardo!” Actor swore softly, outraged by the colonel’s duplicity.

“Yeah, well, let’s just say I’ll be having some choice words with the colonel when I get back to England.” Garrison dipped the flannel in the water, rubbed it against the bar of soap, and began to wash Actor’s back.

It took all of the Italian’s vaunted self-control to remain focused on the conversation. “Stuart is dead. His HQ took a direct hit in a bombing raid.”

Garrison huffed softly. “Saves me the trouble.” It was a sentiment Actor found himself very much in agreement with. “So, if Stuart’s dead, who sent you to get me out?“

The American’s hand skimmed sensuously over Actor’s torso and the Italian wondered distractedly where he had acquired the skill. He forced himself to hold the American’s gaze. ”Your father.”

“Dad?” Now it was Garrison’s turn to be incredulous.

“You were posted as missing, presumed dead.”

“Why?” Garrison wanted to know. “I made regular drops. OSS in London would have had regular reports from my contact.”

Actor shook his head. “There were no reports. No contact. No one knew where you were, including your father.”

Garrison digested the information, then let out a low whistle. “Stuart set me up. He never approved of the team. He must have figured that, with me out of the way, he could disband the unit." He paled as the import of the Italian’s words sank in, re-soaping the flannel and washing Actor’s chest distractedly. “Christ! I really could have been stuck here for the duration.”

Actor could only nod in agreement. “Were it not for the letter you left me, we would never have known of your whereabouts.”

“When did you get the letter?”

Garrison dunked the flannel in the water and dragged it across Actor’s chest to rinse off the suds.

The Italian’s eyes were riveted on the hand holding the cloth as it was swiped over suddenly-sensitive nipples and his face creased into a frown as he studied the bruises marring the American’s wrists.

What the hell?

All thoughts of how the bruises had been acquired were quickly displaced by an acute awareness of his body’s reaction to the attentions being lavished upon it. Actor fought the urge to squirm. The contact was having an extremely unsettling, if unsurprising, effect on his genitals. He was inordinately grateful that the soap-clouded water hid his arousal from the unlikely, and hopefully oblivious, object of his desire. He forced himself to concentrate on answering Garrison’s question.

“Four days ago. Your father gave it to me.”

“How did he get it?”

Garrison turned his attention to Actor’s back and the con man could have cried with relief, the nipples on his chest already hard with arousal. Hopefully, Craig would attribute that to the cold…

“He was sent your effects when you were posted as missing, presumed dead.”

Garrison swore softly. “Damn. He must have read my letter.”

Actor nodded. “When I saw him, he was deeply distressed.”

The American huffed derisively. “I doubt it. We haven’t talked in over a year.”

Since the unit was formed.

Actor tucked that information away for later consideration, along with his alarming and unwanted reaction to his semi-clad commander. Recalling the drawn face of the elder Garrison as he had risen to leave the café in Pimlico, when he’d thought his son lost and all hope of finding out where and why lost with him, he felt compelled to defend the man.

“Your father was devastated. He thought you were dead.”

Silence descended on the pair as Garrison digested that information.

“From what you had written, your father believed that you had not expected to return from the mission,” Actor added by way of explanation.

Garrison rolled his eyes.

“I wrote that letter years ago. It’s one of the first things they teach you at the Point: this is not a game, this is war, and war is deadly. If you don’t make it back, try and make that as easy as you can on the ones you leave behind. Hell, he’s been a soldier long enough to know that.”

“I suspect that he was not thinking as a soldier then, but as a father,” Actor said softly. The flannel was swept over his chest once more and then headed south. He caught Garrison’s wrist and drew it away from his body. “Enough, I think.”

Garrison’s words blew warm against his neck. “Don’t you want me to take care of that for you?”

Actor could feel his skin flush.

So, he had noticed…

Well, there was precious little he could say or do about it now, other than to perhaps plead extreme provocation. He settled for, “I will attend to it.”

“Won’t your pal, Ernst, be upset if you start without him?” Garrison added lightly, dropping the flannel into the tub and disengaging his wrist from Actor’s grasp with careful deliberation.

“I’ll attend to that too,” Actor repeated as he took the towel Garrison held out to him.

“So, a virgin?” The corners of Garrison’s mouth turned up in the merest hint of a smile. “Never figured that’d be your kink.”

“I had thought it would be a more accurate description of you than ‘accomplished whore’,” Actor retorted, unaccountably annoyed by the insinuation.

An uncomfortable silence stretched out between them. Garrison reached for Actor’s glass of champagne and drained it. “I guess I asked for that.”

Actor wished he had not spoken, finding the resignation and self-recrimination in the American’s quiet words deeply distressing. “No, you didn’t. Forgive me. I should not have spoken as I did.”

“Forget it,” Garrison said, dismissively. He refilled the glass and drained it again and Actor’s brow furrowed. Seeing his second’s concerned gaze, Garrison murmured, “It helps.”

Gazing down at Garrison’s bruised wrists, Actor took a deep breath. “I’m sure that it does.” He picked up the champagne bottle and refilled the glass, waving aside the second glass the American held out to him. “One of us should stay sober.”

“Thanks for saying it doesn’t have to be me.” Garrison drained the glass again and Actor’s concern grew.

“Craig, you don’t have to do this. I will claim a headache and then make my excuses to Rautenberg and leave. Come to my hotel room when you can. I have a uniform and papers for you. Provided the weather breaks, an aircraft will pick us up in two days’ time.”

Garrison shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. If you back out now, it’ll arouse suspicion.” He glanced away. “Besides…”

His hesitation caused Actor’s eyes to narrow.

“I’d rather it was you than someone else.”

The admission stole the breath from the Italian’s lungs. “I did not want this to happen, Craig.”

Which was a lie.

Actor found that he did want this to happen, very much, but not under these circumstances. He had fantasized many times about taking Craig to his bed, the handsome American’s unconscious sexuality irresistible to the hedonistic Italian, but never had he imagined it would be without the other man’s consent.

He did not want it to happen this way at all.

Unfortunately, it appeared he would have as little say in the matter as Craig. Still, there was one thing at least he could spare the man.

“At least let it be you who takes me. I am large and could hurt you if you are not prepared for this.” The thought of hurting Craig was anathema, especially under these circumstances. “I’ve had considerably more experience of this than you.” Even so, his own fear made him feel that a warning was still necessary. “Just, be gentle. Please take your time. It has been a long time since I did this.”

Garrison’s eyes glowed with affection and a smile flickered across his face. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to the Italian’s and kissed him gently before leaning back and thrusting a dry towel into the stunned con man’s hands. “More experience than me? After six weeks in this place, I doubt it. We stick to the original plan.”

Actor found that he loved the man even more for it.

The private room to which they retired was less lavishly-furnished than the salon, but a log burned in the grate and heavy, burgundy drapes enshrouded the windows, keeping the bitter cold at bay and adding to the intimacy of the setting.

Garrison helped Actor remove his boots, straddling each leg as he pulled at the tight leather. From where Actor was sitting, the view was enticingly impressive. He unbuckled his belt, drew down his trousers and stepped out of his shorts, exposing his body to the other occupants of the room.

Rautenberg nodded appreciatively.

“Oh, our little virgin is going to feel you, isn’t he?”

Actor forced himself to smile, despite the sickening plummet of his stomach. The very last thing he wanted to do was to hurt Craig; a man he respected, admired, and, God help him, had come to love. He draped his uniform fastidiously over the back of a chair so it would not wrinkle, much to Rautenberg’s amusement, and used the time to compose himself.

The German lowered himself into a generously-upholstered armchair with a sigh of satisfaction, his fingers spreading out over the broad armrests as his gaze lingered appreciatively on his compatriot’s nakedness. “I’m glad it’s you who’ll be doing all the work, Karl. I’m quite fatigued.”

He snagged the champagne bottle from the ice bucket on the side-table and refreshed his glass before filling a second. “Do you want one?”

Unabashed by his nakedness and impervious to the lascivious gaze of his fellow officer, Actor shook his head, gazing across the room to where Garrison was stripping out of his lederhosen. “No, but I think my new friend would.” He took the glass from the German and held it out to the American.

“Don’t encourage him, Karl!" Rautenberg cajoled. "He’s probably been told to see that we drink as much as we can hold, and that French champagne is damned expensive.” He sipped from his glass. “None of that fake piss you get in other establishments. Here, you get the real stuff.”

Actor, who was very familiar with the ‘real stuff’ and knew this was assuredly not it, thought better than to comment, smiling encouragingly as Garrison accepted the glass. “Lie on the bed,” he commanded softly, his eyes never leaving the American’s face. At the question in Garrison’s eyes, he qualified the instruction. “On your back.”

Garrison drained the glass and obeyed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Part your legs for me,” Actor ordered softly. A moment’s hesitation and then Garrison obeyed, spreading his legs wide. Actor climbed onto the bed and settled between them, holding out the champagne flute so that Rautenberg could refill it. Then he dripped its contents over Garrison’s chest and belly, the liquid pooling between the man’s nipples and running to settle in the concave of his navel.

Rautenberg chuckled lasciviously. “Oh, yes! Now that is one use for champagne I wholeheartedly approve of!”

Leaning forward, Actor lapped at the droplets. The muscles beneath his tongue were rigid with tension. Craig needed to relax or he would hurt him.

He would need to take his time.

“Beautiful.”

It was all Actor could think as he gazed down at the man sprawled in debauched glory beneath him, golden in the candles’ glow and as glorious as a fallen angel.
Actor’s splayed hand trailed slowly down Garrison’s chest as he continued his leisurely exploration of the enticing body now spread wantonly before him on the bed.

Rautenberg barked out a laugh.

“Beautiful? You need your eyes examined, my friend! There’s nothing beautiful about those scars.” He gestured to the puckered skin that marred Garrison’s left shoulder and side. “He’s lucky anyone wants him, marked like that.”

The American’s gaze lowered, but not before Actor had seen the flicker of emotion in his eyes. The Italian carefully banked his anger. Garrison was a valiant officer, loyal and selfless, the wounds testament to his bravery and courage and his unswerving determination to serve his country, irrespective of the personal cost.

“War wounds?” Actor asked quietly as he traced one of the scars with a gentle finger. He already knew the answer; had dug the bullets from the wounds himself, whilst Garrison had held himself still in silent agony beneath unintentionally cruel hands.

The American nodded slowly, but did not speak. Neither would he meet the Italian’s gaze.

“Then they are badges of honour,” Actor murmured softly. Bending forward, he pressed his lips to the mutilated flesh with tender reverence. “And you are as brave as you are beautiful.”

Garrison’s eyes lifted to meet his own, and shone.

Actor’s hands roamed the American’s body with apparent carelessness, but very deliberate intent, until Garrison’s face was flushed with arousal and his skin gilded with sweat. In the flickering candlelight, Actor found himself captivated by the play of light and shadow on the athletic musculature of the man’s body. Surrendering to his curiosity, he trailed a hand down the hard plain of Garrison’s belly and tangled his fingers in the golden curls that cradled the man’s genitals.

“Exquisite,” he breathed, as he studied the half-hard organ. “You have let men touch you before, yes?” Since he had asked for a virgin, it now behove him to perpetuate the deception.

Garrison’s eyes dropped demurely as he nodded. “Yes, Herr Haupsturmführer.”

Actor trailed a hand across Garrison’s lean hips and curled his fingers around the man’s shaft. “Did you let them do this?” he asked softly as he caressed the sensitive flesh, smiling as it firmed beneath his touch.

“Yes, Herr Haupsturmführer,” breathed Garrison, eyes riveted on Actor’s hand.

The Italian rolled his thumb over the sensitive head of Garrison’s shaft, spreading the slickness that had spilled there over the velvet surface. “Did you let them do this?” he asked again.

The muscles of Garrison’s flanks tightened and his voice was hoarse as he answered. “Yes, Herr Haupsturmführer.”

Bending forward, Actor drew the head of Garrison’s erection into his mouth and caressed it with his tongue, hands gripping the American’s hips and holding them down on the bed. When he finally leant back, he asked, “Did you let them do that?”

Garrison was trembling now, the muscles in his thigh twitching at the maddening contact. “No, Herr Haupsturmführer.”

Leaning forward, he claimed Garrison’s mouth in a gentle kiss. He did not know what to expect, or whether the man would even respond, and was unprepared when the American’s tongue duelled with his own. Unprepared also for the bolt of lust that lanced through his groin, stiffening his shaft until it ached. Reluctantly breaking the kiss, Actor dropped his head to Garrison’s chest and gently worried a nipple with his teeth, a distraction as he pressed an oil-coated finger against the man’s anus and slowly pushed it inside. “And did you let them do this?”

Garrison moaned softly as his body was penetrated. “No. Never, Herr Haupsturmführer.”

There was surprisingly little resistance: the passage already slick with oil, the muscle yielding readily to the invader.

Had Craig prepared himself, or let another prepare him?

It was shocking, the intensity of the jealousy invoked by that thought. Very deliberately, Actor forced himself to set it aside. He crooked the finger embedded in Garrison’s body and was rewarded with another, low, moan. “Did you let them touch you like this?”

“No,” came the breathless reply.

Actor’s smile broadened and he nodded at Rautenberg. He crooked his finger again, gently stimulating the sensitive prostate, and Garrison’s head thrashed on the pillow, his hips arching against Actor’s restraining hand. “I thought not,” Actor murmured, worrying Garrison’s shaft with his lips and tongue as he pressed another finger into the man’s body. His next words were chosen with deliberate care. “Did you let them make love to you?” He rasped his tongue the full length of Garrison’s shaft before fastening his lips over the weeping head and sucking it.

“No,” Garrison panted, thrusting up into Actor’s mouth.

“Then I will be the first?” Leaning down, he dragged his tongue the length of Garrison’s shaft.

“Yes.” The word was a breathless moan.

Rautenberg moaned also, but Actor ignored him. The thought of lying with Garrison and making love to him was intoxicating. Despite the sordid situation and the unwanted audience, Actor was resolved to make this, their first time together, memorable.

He had waited so long for this. For Craig, whom he had desired from the first time he had seen him in the prison Governor’s office on a bright, summer’s day a lifetime ago. He would let nothing sully it for either of them.

With renewed determination and exquisitely tender hands, Actor continued to explore the hidden recesses of his lover’s body, patiently arousing him, his groin tightening at the quiet gasps that escaped from the American’s throat.

Rautenberg groaned his approval too, his hand busy at his fly before snaking inside his breeches. Wrapping his fingers around his engorged shaft, the German sighed his pleasure and stroked himself purposefully. “Take him now, Karl! I want you to be fucking him when I come.”

“Patience, Ernst,” Actor counselled. “He needs coaxing, don’t you, my love?” His lips twitched into the merest hint of a smile as Garrison rolled his eyes.

Rising from the armchair with a curse, Rautenberg rummaged in the top drawer of the bureau beside the window. “Here. Use this on him.” A leather-handled flogger landed on the bed beside Actor’s leg. “It’s braided horse hair and carries quite a sting in its tail. A good thrashing will be all the coaxing he’ll need to get the blood flowing. If you’re worried about him struggling, we can strap him to the bed,” his eyes gleamed with lust, “or get some of the others to hold him down while you bugger him.”

Which explained the bruised wrists…

Garrison’s face was an expressionless mask but, beneath Actor’s hands, his body trembled. Actor smoothed his expression with an ease borne of a lifetime’s practice, letting none of the fury he was feeling show on his face. “Thank you, Ernst, but I am in no hurry.” At the man’s exasperated snort, Actor added, “And, whilst I don’t mind you watching, I do object if you’re going to heckle.”

The quiet admonition had the desired effect and Rautenberg retired to the armchair once more, his hand disappearing back into his britches.

Actor's chest tightened to think of what Garrison had endured in this place.

To be touched without kindness, taken without consideration, in pain…

He forced himself to set the thoughts aside and returned his attention to his bed mate. Easing his fingers free of Craig’s body, he wiped them fastidiously on a towel before reaching for a condom and the bottle of oil on the nightstand. Garrison watched him through eyes glazed with pleasure. Or the champagne, Actor thought sourly. He dearly hoped it was the former. The prophylactic was rolled on with practised ease. He liberally slathered his erection with oil before settling between Garrison’s legs once more and lowering his body to cover the younger man.

“Tell me what to do.” Garrison’s voice held a low, sensual throb that lanced straight to Actor’s groin. “I’ve never done this before.” Garrison’s voice broke on the last word.

And he accuses me of overacting…

Actor was already regretting his request for a virgin, but since Garrison seemed determined to see the ‘fantasy’ through, he was left with no option but to play along. In truth, he was grateful that the man was sufficiently compos mentis to remember the part he was playing. He’d plied the man with so much champagne, there’d been a very real possibility he’d simply pass out.

Which perhaps would have been a mercy.

Actor gazed down into the face of the man beneath him. Craig had had little say in this encounter and yet, the Italian could not find it within himself to regret what would be between them now. He would see that Craig did not regret it either. The head of Actor’s erection nudged against Garrison’s body and the American dug his hands into the coverlet to anchor himself.

“There will be pain,” Actor murmured softly, “but then there will be glory.” His gaze caught and held the American’s. “Trust me.”

Garrison’s eyes turned to flame.

Actor mated their mouths again, unaccountably needing the reassuring intimacy, and breathed into the American’s mouth, “Grip the headboard.”

Garrison’s hands lifted to tighten around the heavy wooden bed head, his body unconsciously arching against the Italian’s erection.

Actor bit his lip as sweat broke out on his skin. Lifting one of the American’s legs, he rested the ankle on his shoulder, holding it there as his other hand positioned the head of his erection between the man’s buttocks. “It will be easier this way,” he murmured to green eyes now darkened to the colour of a storm-tossed sea, “and I want to see your face when I take you.”

Passion-glazed eyes flared briefly with something suspiciously like annoyance.

“When I make love to you for the first time,” Actor murmured, with no trace of artifice.

Garrison fixed his gaze on Actor’s face and nodded once, benediction and absolution in the simple gesture.

Releasing his grip on Garrison’s ankle, Actor splayed a hand on the taut muscles of Garrison’s belly and slowly rocked forward. Garrison’s face contorted, teeth clenching against the pain as his body was claimed, his erection softening.

It took every shred of self-control that Actor possessed to hold himself still then, when every instinct urged him to thrust forward and claim this man as his own. “Breathe and bear down,” he counselled softly, his own body shaking with the effort of maintaining his control. “The pain will ease. Bear down.”

Garrison was panting, sweat pooling in the hollows of his throat. He nodded again, visibly trying to relax. The excruciating grip around Actor’s shaft loosened minutely and Actor eased forward again before forcing himself to still once more. Leaning forward, he slid a hand into Garrison’s wheat-blond hair and anchored it there, pressing kisses to Craig’s shoulder and throat. “Breathe, my love. Almost there.”

He pressed his hips forward again and slid in the rest of the way, moaning with the exquisite pleasure of it, as something wild and primal within him howled in possessive triumph. Garrison pressed his face against the inside of his raised arm, his lips a tight line of pain. Gently, Actor curled a hand around Craig’s softened member and worked the skin back and forth, back and forth, and when Garrison’s organ finally began to respond, Actor eased his hips back and rocked forward again. This time, the American’s lips parted in a silent exclamation, pain receding to be replaced with a breathless pleasure.

Ah… better.

Actor repeated the movement, careful to maintain the same angle, and again, Garrison’s mouth softened. Actor settled into a rhythm then, thrusting smoothly, as one hand anchored Garrison’s head to the bed and the other stroked his shaft into hard and weeping engorgement. The American grunted with each thrust, the knuckles wrapped around the bed head white.

Sheer pleasure seared Actor’s body, setting his skin on fire. He could smell Craig’s arousal now, a heady scent of musk, tobacco and salt, as the man’s erection bucked in his hand, slick with sweat and his own emissions, and throbbed in time with his heartbeat.

Rautenberg groaned again, the hand inside his trousers moving furiously as he watched the pair coupling on the bed. “Harder, Karl! Fuck him harder!”

But Actor would not be hurried.

The slow slide was an exquisite torture, but he took his time, giving Craig time to catch up as, slowly and deliciously, the passion between them built. He clung to sanity by a thread, thrusting harder into the exquisite friction, his hand moving purposefully over Craig’s flesh, increasing the pressure and the pace in order to fuel his lover’s arousal, and when Craig’s grunts gave way to hoarse moans of pleasure, Actor was entranced. He had dug metal from this man’s flesh and he had made no sound. To hear him cry out now in the throes of passion was the most erotic thing he’d ever heard.

Bending lower, he thrust forward again.

Garrison’s response was immediate, a sharp cry of pleasure, and Actor was lost. He ground his body harder against his lover, his harsh pants finding answer in Craig's groans of pleasure, the intensity of his arousal increasing until he could not see and could not breathe, only feel, and thrust, and thrust, and thrust, until Craig convulsed around his shaft, crying out as his body spilled its seed over his lover’s demanding hand. A final thrust, powerful and deep, and Actor stiffened, too, as orgasm finally and gloriously raged through him, intense and all-consuming.

When he regained his senses, it was to find Craig asleep in his arms, their bodies still joined by his softening erection, and Rautenberg enthusiastically applauding.

Actor waited for a month after they returned from Austria before making his move.

Casino, Goniff, and Chief had gone to London for the weekend and he had declined their invitation to join them, knowing that Craig had no plans and would be remaining behind. When quiet had descended on the mansion and he was sure that the two of them would not be disturbed, Actor purloined a bottle of champagne from the cellar, collected two champagne flutes from the kitchen, and went in search of his lieutenant.

The soft tap at the door was a welcome distraction from the mind-numbing task of clearing his in-tray. Lt. Craig Garrison laid down the requisition form for new windows in the common room, signed it with a flourish, and called out, “come.”

An unfortunate choice of word, under the circumstances, for he had no doubt that the man waiting on the other side of the door would like nothing better than to do just that.

He had known it would be Actor, had been expecting this approach ever since their return from Austria. Seeing the engaging smile on the Italian’s face and the champagne and glasses in the man’s hands, he pasted a puzzled expression on his face and went on the offensive. “Let me guess, it’s your birthday and you’re too much of a cheapskate to want to share it with Casino, Chief and Goniff?”

Actor feigned horror. “Warden! You wound me! My hospitality is legendary!”

Garrison smiled at him. That much was true. Actor was as generous with his money as he was with his talents.

And boy, did the man have talents…

“So, what’s the deal then?” His own innocence was equally feigned, but hopefully far better concealed.

“Does there need to be a reason?’ Actor countered with a disarming smile. “I thought we could celebrate surviving Austria.”

“Did you now?” Garrison mused. “Not thinking about getting me drunk so you could talk me into a repeat of what we did in Austria?”

Actor’s smile did not falter.

No wonder you’re such a good con man,Garrison thought. Let’s see how much of it has rubbed off…

“The thought never crossed my mind, Lieutenant. But now that you mention it, I, for one, would not be averse to a repeat performance.”

Garrison shook his head. “Actor, that’s not gonna happen.”

“Why ever not?” Actor countered with a grin. ”You can’t say you didn’t enjoy it and I know I certainly did.”

“Enjoy it? Hell, I don’t even remember it,” Garrison countered. “What I do remember is waking up the next morning with the mother of all hangovers and feeling like I’d been reamed with a bottlebrush.”

Now the Italian’s smile did falter. “Craig, I’m sorry if I caused you distr…”

Garrison waved away the apology. “Look, Actor, I’m sorry if that offends your ego, but it sure as hell wasn’t a pleasant experience for me and I’m not about to throw my career away so you can do it again.”

Still Actor persisted. “It need not be that way. I know it could be wonderful between us. If we are discreet, we could…”

Garrison forced himself to laugh aloud. “Discreet? With Casino and Goniff around? If word got out, I’d be lucky not to end up in Leavenworth. I’m sorry Actor, my career’s too important for me to throw it away on a meaningless fuck.”

Actor’s lips thinned.

“What happened in Austria was unfortunate, but unavoidable,” Garrison added, forcing himself to ignore the hurt in the Italian’s eyes that his deliberately callous words had put there. “It’s not going to happen again. I get hurt enough on missions without wanting to get hurt on my own time as well.”

The muscles in Actor’s jaw tensed, but still he did not speak.

Time to deliver the coup de grace, Craig…

“I know you had no choice in the matter. Hell, neither did I, but the way I see it, it was just another form of torture. You need to see it the same way.”

He knew it would be devastating for Actor to hear his lovemaking described as torture, especially considering the gentle thoroughness with which he had prepared him and the almost reverential way in which he’d finally taken him, but he needed to kill this growing attraction between them once and for all, and this seemed to be the best way to do it.

He wouldn’t jeopardize Actor’s chance of parole by having an affair with him, no matter how much he wanted that for himself. And, God help him, he wanted it more than anything he could ever remember wanting in his entire life, including his elusive captaincy.

Actor listened in silence and then slowly nodded. “I see that you have already given this matter considerable thought, Lieutenant,”

‘Lieutenant’, not ‘Craig,’ thought Garrison. A victory, but a hollow one...

“I apologise for the distress and discomfort I caused you in Austria.” The remorse in Actor’s voice made Garrison feel a complete heel. “Clearly, I misjudged the situation very badly and, now that I am aware of that fact, I will not mention it again. Please accept the champagne as a belated, if ill-conceived, peace offering. I hope we can put this behind us and still remain friends. Your friendship and respect are very precious to me.”

The unexpected candour and sincerity of the Italian’s words made the American feel even lousier. Garrison had never had a lover as considerate and generous as Actor, so the apology was both unwarranted and unnecessary, but even as his heart went out to the subdued Italian, his head was already shaking in callous dismissal. “Look, Actor, thanks for the sentiment. You are, and continue to remain, an integral member of this team, but I can’t accept the champagne. I’ve a lot of paperwork to get through and need a clear head. Take it with you when you go.” He picked up the next document from his in-tray and began reading it.

When he heard the door to his office being quietly closed, he counted slowly to fifty and then reached for the whisky decanter.

Actor slumped down on the bed and rolled onto his back, his chest heaving as his lungs demanded the oxygen that the vigorous bout of love-making had denied them. Dragging an arm across his eyes, he tried not to think about what had just happened.

Or with whom.

His companion had other ideas. A cigarette case was retrieved from the bedside table, two cigarettes extracted and duly lit, and then his arm jostled as one of them was passed to him. Actor accepted it in silence.

“So, caro, do you want to explain what just happened?”

What indeed, Actor wondered. He did not know where to start...

“Don’t get me wrong,” his lover continued. “I’m thoroughly exhausted by your enthusiasm and inventiveness, not to mention your single-minded determination…”

Actor could have groaned. This had been a bad idea…

“… and your frankly astonishing stamina, but I cannot help but wonder why it has been two years since you last sought my bed…”

Such a bad idea…

“… and why you seemed to derive no satisfaction from our coupling.”

Actor sighed softly.

“Who are you trying to forget, caro?” Raphael Crocetti, personal aide to the Italian ambassador in London, asked quietly.

Rolling onto his side, Actor gazed at the man who had been his friend his entire life and his on-off lover for more than half of it.

“There were three people in this bed tonight,” Raphael continued, “and whilst you know that I am not above sharing, I sense that you are.”

It was true. In their youth, they had shared lovers on many occasions. Neither of them had been the faithful type and their periodic encounters had always been passionate, inventive, and deeply gratifying, but with no strings attached. “I’m sorry,” Actor murmured, taking a drag on his cigarette. He exhaled and watched as the smoke spiralled upwards. “I should not have come.”

His companion laughed softly. “Well, I, for one, am glad that you did. You have lost none of your skill in the intervening years, my friend, and, though it pains me to say it because I know how it will stroke your ego, you actually seem to have improved. I am all but dead from your attentions and thoroughly sated, not once, but twice, and probably will not be able to sit comfortably for at least a week.”

Actor’s face twisted into a sad smile as his erstwhile lover continued.

“But you, my dear friend, are not happy and I would know the reason why.”

Actor sat up, drawing one knee to his chest and closing his arms around it.

“Why now, caro?” Raphael asked gently, “And why me?”

“It was an itch that I thought needed scratching,” Actor explained quietly. “It would seem that I was wrong.”

Raphael nodded thoughtfully, taking a drag on his own cigarette. “You needed to take a man, any man, to get another man out of your system?”

“You are not just any man, Raphael,“ Actor chided softly.

His friend smiled and laid his cheek against Actor’s chest. The con man gathered the man into his arms and absently rubbed his back.

“Indeed not. I am one of your oldest friends. But I am not the man either, am I, caro?”

When Actor did not reply, Raphael pressed a kiss to the conman’s belly. “Tell me about him, ‘Torio. Why is he so irresistible, yet unobtainable? I would not have believed that there was a man or woman alive you could not entice into your bed, once you had set your mind to it.” A second kiss was pressed to Actor’s chest. “Tell me about this paragon of masculine virtue.”

Actor sighed again. “He was a whore in a brothel in Austria.”

Raphael sat up and stared at him.

Actor winced and continued. “And he has been in my bed, but is there no longer, and that is the problem. I would have him back.”

His friend shook his head in disbelief. “Truly, ‘Torio, you are joking, si? There is a war on, in case you had not noticed. Your whore is probably wearing a German uniform now and, if he is as beautiful as your usual conquests, being fucked by an entire Panzer division.”

Actor’s fist was raised before he even realised it and Raphael rolled away to avoid the blow. “Torio!”

Actor turned away abruptly, shocked and ashamed by his loss of control. Being reminded of what Craig had done in the brothel still rankled deeply. Dropping his head into his hands, he swore softly. “Forgive me, Raphael.”

A gentle hand settled on the back of his neck and carefully massaged it. “The fault was mine. I did not realise he meant so much to you.”

Actor sighed softly and surrendered to his friend’s gentle ministrations. “Neither did I. Unfortunately, he is now my commanding officer and determined that the encounter will not be repeated.“

“Your….!” The hand paused as his friend digested the improbable information.

“Yes,” Actor repeated wearily. “My commanding officer.”

“Who was once a whore in a brothel in Austria?” The hand recommenced its ministrations and Actor groaned as it was joined by a second and began working the knots out of his shoulders.

“He was not really a whore. It was just a role he was playing.” He could not say more, he knew, and finished somewhat lamely with, “It is… complicated.”

Raphael laughed softly. “Torio, your life always was. Turn over and let me do this properly.”

Too tired to argue, Actor did as he was bid, closing his eyes and moaning softly as his friend straddled his hips and set to work on the tense muscles of his shoulders.

“And you would have him back.”

“I would have him back,” Actor confirmed, ignoring the pang in his chest.

“And his objections to this are what?”

The fingers felt wonderful and Actor felt his eyes closing. “Honour,” he murmured.

Dear God, he was so tired.

“Yours or his?” Raphael wanted to know.

“Surprisingly, mine,” Actor murmured wearily. It had taken him a sleepless night of examining and re-examining Craig’s words to understand why the American had said what he had, and by the end of it, Actor had come to an unassailable conclusion. The real reason why Craig had not consented to an affair was the one reason he had not mentioned at all.

Craig was protecting him.

Had they embarked on an affair and subsequently been discovered, Actor would assuredly have been returned to prison with no hope of parole and, whilst the scandal would also have reflected badly on Craig, having his father fighting his corner and the defence of having been led astray by a notorious con man to fall back on would undoubtedly have mitigated the consequences.

Not so for Actor.

Craig had not lied to protect his career; he had lied to protect Actor’s parole.

Actor knew Craig, knew how much the man’s unlikely team of misfit cons meant to him. Craig had moved heaven and earth to get the team formed and then done it again to keep them together and Actor knew he was hell-bent on ensuring that the Army made good on its end of the bargain if, by some miracle, they survived the war. It was inconceivable that Craig would not have considered this when making his case, yet he had not presented this argument at all because he didn’t want Actor to know that he was protecting him.

And if Craig had lied about that, perhaps there were other things he had also lied about, such as what he really thought about their time together in Austria...

Raphael smiled and continued to work on his friend’s shoulders. “A paragon indeed.” The laughter in his voice belied the seriousness of the declaration.

“A handsome, honourable, loyal, impossibly brave, infuriatingly stubborn, idiot of an American,” Actor muttered with increasing ire.

“Who you love to distraction, and who loves you enough to worry about your honour,” Raphael finished softly.

“We are both of us, idiots,” Actor murmured softly, his eyes closing in sleep.

And perhaps both of you need a little help, thought Raphael.

Lt. Craig Garrison re-read the invitation, then shook his head in disbelief.

Why the hell had he been invited to a reception at the Italian embassy? He was no diplomat. He’d asked Colonel Edwards the same question, only to be told that the Italian ambassador had asked for him personally, and no, he had not meant General Garrison, because the colonel had already asked.

Consequently, he was now expected to present his credentials to the Italian ambassador at the Italian embassy in London at 1900 hours that Friday, in full dress uniform.

“Damn,” Garrison cursed as he dropped the ornately-inscribed missive into his ‘Pending’ tray.

After yet another night of disturbed sleep and haunted dreams, quite the last thing he wanted to do was to make small talk with a bunch of politicos and their bored and over-bejewelled wives at some damned party attended by his father.

He reached for the decanter.

“Hey, Warden! How’re you doing?” Goniff’s enthusiastic welcome greeted Garrison as he walked into the common room. The second-storey man was perched on a stool beside Actor’s armchair, watching as the Italian and Chief played chess.

“Fine, Goniff,” came the inevitable reply.

“Yeah, like you’d tell us even if you weren’t, eh, Warden?” Casino said sarcastically as he retrieved his darts from the board on the far wall. Garrison ignored the comment.

“I’m going to be away overnight. I’ve told Sergeant Rawlins you have my permission to go into town, but I need you back by 2300. No exceptions, okay?”

Actor cleared his throat.

“Actor?” Garrison asked.

“I have been invited to a reception in London. As we did not have a mission, I did not think there would be a problem in accepting.” His voice, like his expression, was emotionless, giving nothing of what he was thinking away.

Garrison found himself sighing inwardly and wishing, not for the first time, that things between them could go back to how they’d been before Austria. He caught himself in the lie and made a mental adjustment to the statement.

Before he’d said what he had to Actor, after Austria.

As the import of the Italian’s words sank in, the hairs on the back of Garrison’s neck stood up. “A reception where, exactly?”

Actor blinked, the question unexpected and unwelcome.

He would never hear the end of it from the others.

“The Italian embassy, if you must know.”

“Oh, hark at him?” Goniff teased good-naturedly. “Of course, we shouldn’t be surprised. Nothing but the best for our Actor, eh?”

Actor frowned at the little thief, but Goniff had long been inured to the Italian’s disapproving looks and his smile remained undimmed.

“Is this some kind of joke?” There was no trace of amusement in Garrison’s voice, and it stripped the smile from Goniff’s face.

Actor was nonplussed by the question. “I beg your pardon?”

“The reception at the Italian embassy,” Garrison elaborated. “You really have an invitation?”

Actor stiffened, unaccustomed to having his integrity called into question in this way, and by this man. “Would you like to see it, Lieutenant?” he asked coldly. “I have it in my room.”

Goniff, Casino and Chief exchanged pointed glances, but Garrison merely shook his head. “That won’t be necessary.”

Unexpectedly mollified, the Italian analysed the question he had been asked and Garrison’s reaction to the answer and then asked a question of his own. “Why were you so surprised to hear that I had been invited?”

Garrison actually looked embarrassed. “Because I’ve got an invitation too.” Eyeing the Italian speculatively, he added, “You have any idea why?”

Actor thought for a moment before replying. “No, but I know someone who might.“

Garrison nodded. “You can call from my office.”

“So, what’s that all about then?” Casino asked as the door closed on the two men.

“No idea, mate.” Goniff’s face broke into an optimistic smile. “Still, nice for them to have a night out. A reception at an embassy’s got to be pretty swank.”

“Only if it don’t make things worse,” Chief drawled. His switchblade danced in his hand.

“Between those two?” Casino winced. “They’re already at rock-bottom. It couldn’t get any worse.”

Actor replaced the handset on its cradle and looked up into enquiring green eyes.

“Apparently, the reception is being thrown in your honour. You are to be decorated by the Italian Government for your part in the Monasterace mission.”

Garrison stared at him in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

Actor rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Are we back to that again?”

Garrison held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry. Look, the embassy is sending a car to pick me up. You’re welcome to share it, if you want?”

I very much doubt that, Actor thought bitterly. Garrison barely tolerated his presence these days.

Still, there had been something in Garrison’s expression, a tentativeness to the offer that was uncharacteristic of the normally self-assured American. Craig had been uncertain about extending the offer to him.

A disconcerting discovery, not least because Actor had no idea why.

The part of him that was world-weary and jaded decried any suggestion that it might be because Craig desired his company, but the romantic in him, the loyal, lonely, helplessly devoted and increasingly desperate lover, could not suppress the sudden and unexpected resurgence of hope.

For one, ignominiously-juvenile moment, he thought of refusing the offer purely to spite the man, but what purpose would that serve, other than to telegraph the magnitude of his distress to the very object of his desire and in doing so, reveal more about how he felt towards the American than he felt able to risk?

Accept, and he would be as good as alone with Craig for the better part of an hour and a half.

It would be eminently preferable to having to take a jeep or a taxi.

There. He was simply being pragmatic.

“Thank you, Lieutenant. I will.”

The medal presentation went off without incident.

The mandatory speeches were received with polite applause, the medal pining endured by Garrison with a carefully neutral expression. When the room finally broke up into small groups, Actor made his way over to where Raphael was standing. After the sterile environment and stilted conversation of the car ride into London, it was with relief that Actor could finally talk to his old friend. As always, Raphael looked immaculate in his dark suit and sash.

“I take it this was your doing?” Actor said without preamble.

“You give me too much credit, my friend,” Raphael replied. “It was entirely the Ambassador's idea. I merely facilitated.”

Actor eyed him with suspicion. “And you had no idea that Lieutenant Garrison was my commanding officer?

Raphael bore the scrutiny without flinching. “I knew of Garrison’s Gorillas, certainly. I wasn't aware you were one of them.” Then, with reproach, “You should have told me, caro.”

Actor snagged a glass from a passing waiter, his eyes unconsciously scanning the room. Lieutenant Garrison was standing with his father, together with Colonel Edwards, Major Richards, and the Italian ambassador. To Actor, he seemed too still; immaculate in his dress uniform and politely attentive, but very much wishing to be elsewhere. Having found the object of his attention, he looked away and sipped from his glass.

“I regret telling you anything about him,” he said softly. “I should have known better.” Another sip. “I do know better.”

Raphael laughed at his friend’s discomfort, the sound of it drawing the attention of the younger Garrison. Raphael watched him from beneath lowered lashes and deliberately stepped closer to Actor, before whispering, “He is a beauty. You always did have impeccable taste.” He smiled slowly, gazing up into the face of his oldest friend. Watching Garrison in the mirror, he was pleased to see the man stiffen.

Garrison was doing his own surveillance. He observed the interaction between Actor and the ambassador‘s aide with all the fascination of a man watching a train crash. The two men were clearly old friends. He was shocked to find that he was jealous.

Garrison wasn’t naïve enough to allow himself to believe that anything between himself and Actor would ever amount to anything.

Actor did not love.

Oh, he wooed and complimented and appreciated and bedded, but there was nothing of substance in his affairs, nothing that persisted afterwards beyond a fond affection, nothing that would induce him to constancy or fidelity. Garrison wanted more from a lover than that, and the thought of having to settle for anything less was unacceptable. He’d rather have nothing than the memory of what he had held once and then had to let go.

Except…

He’d already had Austria.

He cursed himself for a lovesick fool and drained the tumbler before making his excuses to the other officers and stalking towards the bar for a refill.

“Raphael… what are you doing?” Actor asked, his voice carrying a warning.

Raphael laughed again and batted his hand against Actor's chest, as though his friend had said something impressively erudite.

“Careful, he is watching you. Don't spoil the moment.”

Actor gritted his teeth and fought the urge to look in Garrison’s direction.

“This stops, now. Raphael. Whatever you are doing, it will not work. This will not help.”

Raphael spoke into his glass, surreptitiously watching the mirror as Garrison detached himself from the other group, collected a fresh drink, and headed towards them.

“On the contrary, it is working perfectly.” His smile was blinding as he looked up at Actor. “He's coming over.”

It took all of Actor’s vaunted self-control not to throttle Raphael, there and then.

“Mr Crocetti? Craig Garrison. It's a pleasure to meet you. The Ambassador said you organised the evening. I wanted to thank you in person.”

Raphael shook the proffered hand with genuine pleasure. “It was the least I could do. You are a hero, Lieutenant Garrison. And please, call me Raphael,”

“I don't feel like a hero,” Garrison was charmingly dismissive, “and it wasn't a solo effort, I had a lot of help from my team.”

Raphael turned to Actor,

“And I did not know that one of my oldest and dearest friends was one of your Gorillas.”

Garrison's eyes lit up. “You know Actor? Then I'm sure you'll have a lot of stories I’d be interested in hearing.” He put a hand on the small of Raphael's back. “Shall we freshen our drinks and find somewhere to sit?”

Actor watched disconsolately as the two men headed towards the bar. At no point had Garrison even looked at him. Gritting his teeth, he followed behind. When he could get him somewhere private, he was going to throttle Raphael.

As the evening progressed, Raphael’s tales became more and more revealing, much to Actor's consternation, but more worrying was the amount of alcohol that Garrison was consuming. Actor was grateful that the senior officers had taken their leave earlier, so there were no witnesses of any consequence.

At length, Garrison excused himself. When Raphael was called to attend the ambassador, Actor went in search of his commander. Garrison was sitting at the bar, nursing a tumbler.

Actor took the seat next to him and caught the scent of whisky on his breath as he murmured a greeting. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” he asked quietly.

Garrison drained the tumbler before placing it on the bar and gesturing to the bartender to refill it. “Not nearly.”

Actor’s patrician face creased into a frown. “Are you trying to drink yourself to death?”

Garrison’s face twisted into a parody of a smile. “There are worse ways to die.”

His voice broke on the last word, his hands trembling around the tumbler.

“Why don’t you tell me what is wrong?” Actor said softly.

Garrison rounded on him angrily. “Damn it, Actor, why can’t you just let it drop?”

“Because you cannot let it drop,” Actor explained calmly. “You are still deeply troubled by what occurred in Austria,” he said perceptively, “beyond what happened between us. You’ve been having nightmares about it. You barely sleep during missions unless you are with us; even Casino has noticed that. You are exhausted, you cannot bear to be touched, even by accident, and you are drinking far more than is good for you. You need to talk to someone about this.”

Garrison shrugged off his concern. “Thanks for the advice, but there’s really nothing to worry about.”

“Before it gets you, or someone else in the team, killed,” Actor finished softly, and had the dubious satisfaction of seeing the blood drain from the American’s face.

Garrison contemplated the contents of his glass.

Actor waited.

“I drink so I don’t have to remember. So I don’t have to see their faces, or smell their sweat, or taste them in my mouth. I drink so I don’t have to remember how it felt to be held down and whipped until I couldn’t think because of the pain and then have my legs forced apart and lashed to the bed so some bastard could…”

He broke off, shaking violently.

“And that wasn't even the worst of it,” he whispered.

Actor said nothing. He did not need to.

Garrison took a steadying breath before continuing.

“Ah, hell. You have no idea.” He held the Italian’s gaze with angry defiance. “Well, you wanted to know and now you do.”

He drained the tumbler and stalked away.

Actor paused before following.

The wail of the air raid siren sounded loud in the still night air.

Actor hurried after Garrison, distant explosions already warning of impending danger. They didn't have much time. He had just caught up when Garrison turned to address him.

“We'll never make it to the shelter. Our best bet's the basement.”

They joined the stream of people in the stairwell. Another explosion, closer now, shattered the glass in the windows. Someone screamed.

“In here,” Garrison said, pushing Actor into a storage room off the main basement corridor. They had barely crossed the threshold when there was an almighty blast and the door slammed shut behind them. Caught in the blast, Garrison was thrown against the far wall and collapsed unconscious to the ground.

The light was too bright and hurt his eyes, so he covered them with a raised arm. “Ow.”

The lights snapped off, plunging the room into darkness, and he softly sighed his relief.

“Better?”

Garrison nodded. A mistake. His head throbbed mercilessly. “Much,” he managed to grind out, biting back a groan.

Maybe if he just lay there for a while with his eyes closed…

“You’re bleeding,” Actor’s quiet statement got his attention. “Let me see.”

Hands skimmed over Garrison’s torso, running down his side, probing gently, but thoroughly. His breath hitched. “No.”

The hands continued on their way, pulling at his shirt to release it from his pants and when they reached for the buckle of his belt, he rolled away, his head protesting the movement with an intensity that made him nauseous.

Great, just what he needed now - to throw up and embarrass himself even more…

“I said, no.” Curling into a ball around his injured side, he muttered, “I’m fine. Just leave me alone.”

Actor cursed vehemently, his voice laced with frustration and annoyance.

“Enough! I am doing nothing more than I would do for any of the others if they were hurt. Be reasonable, Craig. Damn it, you’re bleeding!”

Garrison groaned inwardly. Actor had a point. He was being unreasonable.

Only…

He sighed heavily.

Enough.

“Okay. Just…” He had no idea how to end the sentence, so just let it hang.

Actor ignored it, hands working at the belt buckle again. Garrison laid his head back on the floor and closed his eyes, willing himself not to react. His body had other ideas, the blood pooling in his groin as Actor’s hands worked on his body.

It’d been too long since he'd got laid.

The thought caught him by surprise. After Austria, he hadn’t wanted sex with anyone.

Well, present company excepted.

His body responded enthusiastically.

And God damn it if that wasn’t the wrong thing to think right now.

He curled his hands into fists and dug the nails into his palms. Pressure on his side had him hissing at the unexpected pain. Actor’s voice was both remorseful and reassuring. “It looks to be a clean cut, but I need to stop the bleeding. I’m sorry.”

Garrison nodded wearily, not trusting his voice. He distracted himself by gazing down at his groin.

At least the pain had been good for something.

“The door won't open. I think it's been blocked by falling masonry.”

Actor spoke more as a distraction than for any other reason. He wadded a face towel and pressed it firmly to Garrison’s side.

“Hold this.”

“I guess we’re staying put for a while,” Garrison conceded. He lent his head on one hand and closed his eyes.

Dark was definitely better.

Actor gazed around the storeroom. It was full of housekeeping items, everything from sheets and blankets to pillows and mattresses, and several crates of what appeared to be toiletries.

“Then we should at least make ourselves comfortable.” He dragged a mattress onto the floor and threw blankets over it. “Lie down,” he instructed, dispassionately. “It will be more comfortable than the floor.”

Garrison allowed himself to be settled on the makeshift bed. Actor folded a blanket carefully under his head, then sat down beside him.

“So, what now?” Garrison asked, his eyes still closed. “And don’t say ‘I Spy.’”

Actor shrugged.

“Truth or Dare?”

Garrison cranked one eye open and eyed him speculatively. “You’re crazy.” He shook his head in disbelief and instantly regretted it.

“It will pass the time,” Actor said with another shrug. “If you want, I will go first.”

“What the hell,” Garrison muttered, too sore and too tired to argue. “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“Who’d you lose your virginity to?”

Actor’s head snapped round.

“You could ask me anything and that’s what you want to know?”

Garrison closed his eyes again and tried not to let his satisfaction show.

“Hey, you wanted to play the game. We can stop right now if you’ve changed your mind.” He’d known the man wouldn’t answer. Actor was too much of a gentleman to kiss and tell.

“Raphael. We were both young and my mother had just died.”

Garrison’s eyes snapped open and he struggled to sit up and face the other man.

“Actor, I’m sorry.”

The Italian’s head was bowed, his handsome face lined with sorrow.

“I was devastated and Raphael sought to comfort me. We were too young to know that what we did was wrong.”

Garrison wished he’d never asked.

“Actor, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.” Even as he spoke, the cynical part of him that had not been shocked rigid by the disclosure was wondering if Actor had made it up.

Con man…

“Is that not the purpose of the game?” Actor asked softly and it was then that Garrison understood the purpose of the Italian’s suggestion, and the veracity of his answer.

A truth for a truth…

“Truth or Dare, Lieutenant?”

Garrison hesitated. He could still refuse, choose Dare instead of Truth, though God only knew what Actor’s devious mind would conjure up to test his mettle then. Or he could simply lie and keep his secrets to himself. But when he thought about what Actor had trusted him with, the gentle, unrelenting concern the man had shown to him since their return from Austria, hell, even when they’d still been in Austria, he knew that he wanted to talk.

“Truth.”

“When did you realise you preferred men to women?”

The relief at being asked a question he’d actually be able to answer was almost tangible.

“I’ve always liked sex with men,” Garrison admitted. “I never had any trouble responding. Of course, enforced celibacy probably had a lot to do with that. It’s not easy getting laid when you go from school, to a military academy, to a war zone.”

“But I have never seen you as much as look at an attractive man,” Actor protested.

“That’s because I’m very careful,” Garrison said.

“Not, very discerning?” Actor teased.

“Oh, I’m that too,” the American confirmed with a grin.

“When given the choice,” Actor said softly.

The smile slid from Garrison’s face. “Actor…”

“What did you mean when you said, ‘That wasn’t the worst of it’?”

Garrison sighed disconsolately.

“What happened?” Actor gently prompted. "You know that whatever you say to me will not leave this room.“

Another loud explosion rocked the building. Garrison gazed upwards as a trickle of dust rained down on them.

“If they keep that up, we may not leave this room.”

Garrison met his gaze squarely. “Austria happened.”

Actor looked away. “I am sorry. If I could…” but Garrison interrupted him.

“Hey, no. I didn’t mean you. What happened between us was… incredible. After everything else, it was like…” Garrison dragged a hand through his cropped hair in a gesture Actor had come to realise signified exasperation, “… coming home.”

The revelation spilled the breath from the Italian’s lungs.

“I was pretty much at the end of my tether. I was so confused by my reactions, I didn’t know who I was any more, or what I was.”

And, finally, Actor understood.

“You found yourself responding to the beatings, the coercion, the pain, didn't you?”

Garrison nodded in silence, his expression eloquent.

“You were surviving,” Actor said softly. “You were doing what you had to, to survive.”

Garrison’s eyes were alarmingly expressive: despair and loathing evident in their troubled gaze. “Yeah, well I didn’t have to enjoy it.”

“Did you?” Actor asked carefully. “Did you really enjoy it?”

“They made me come,” Garrison confessed, his eyes averted and his cheeks stained dull red with embarrassment. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

When Actor smiled reassuringly at him and said nothing, he continued. “When they wanted me to, they could always make me come.”

Actor considered the statement. “And when they didn’t want you to, did you still find release?”

A terse shake of the American’s head.

“Then I think you are confusing an unavoidable reaction to an irresistible stimulus with a willingness to be dominated and hurt.”

Actor observed Garrison appraisingly, then slapped the American across the face.

Hard.

“What the hell?” Garrison’s face was a picture of aggrieved confusion.

Actor raised his hand to repeat the gesture, only to have his wrist caught in an iron grip.

“Try that again and I’ll break your arm,” Garrison warned through gritted teeth.

Actor was unconcerned. “Didn’t you like it? The pain?”

Garrison’s face betrayed his confusion. “What? No! Why would you even think that?

“I thought you would find the pain stimulating.” the Italian eyed him intently. “That you would be aroused by it.”

Garrison glared back. “Well, I didn’t, and I wasn’t.”

“Then perhaps you are not as confused about your sexuality as you thought you were.”

Garrison’s look was incredulous. “That’s what this is about? You’re analysing me?”

Actor nodded. “It’s time someone did, and you won’t talk to anyone else.”

“I’m already regretting talking to you,” Garrison said with a scowl.

“Come now,” Actor countered. “You will not find answers in a bottle. At least let me try to help.”

Garrison muttered something that sounded very much like a curse in Russian.

“Please, Craig,” Actor’s tone was serious now. “I am worried about you.”

“Don’t be,” Garrison snapped. “I can take care of myself.”

“Can you?” Actor’s dark eyes were full of compassion.

Unaccountably, it made Garrison angrier. “I told you before, I don’t need a nursemaid.” He glared at the conman.

Actor bore the censure without flinching. “No, but you do need a friend. At least let me be that.”

When Garrison’s head dropped on a sigh and the man made no attempt to contradict him, Actor pressed on. “When I slapped you, what did you think?”

Garrison rolled his eyes. “Oh, God. You’re not going to let this drop, are you?”

Now it was Actor who was silently eloquent.

“Okay, have it your way,” Garrison’s tone was resigned. “My first thought was, what the hell did I do to deserve that?”

“So, you assumed that you were being punished for something you had done?” Actor eyed him appraisingly.

“That’s what I thought,” Garrison confirmed with a shrug.

Actor nodded. “You didn’t instinctively associate the violence with pleasure?”

Garrison stared at him. “Are you crazy? Of course not.”

Actor’s mouth quirked into the smallest of smiles. “Good.”

Garrison paused. “Oh.”

Actor’s smile broadened. “As I said before, perhaps you are not as confused about your sexuality as you had previously thought.”

“Fuck.”

Actor eyed him affectionately. “I do wish you had spoken to me about this earlier.”

Garrison sighed tiredly. “Yeah, well, so do I.” He shook his head slowly. “I really thought I was turning into some sort of freak.”

Actor frowned. “There is no shame in taking your pleasure in whatever way pleases you, so long as that pleasure is shared by all the parties involved in the act.”

Garrison looked at him dubiously. “What? So if I told you I wanted you to tie me up and beat me, so I could get off on it, you’d do it?”

Actor shrugged his broad shoulders. “It would not be the first time, although I freely admit that bondage and discipline would not be my choice with you.”

“Seriously?” Garrison’s expression was incredulous.

Actor threw up his hands in exasperation. “Why do you not believe anything I tell you any more?”

It was even more annoying when Garrison had to think before answering.

“Because you’re the best con man in the business?”

Oh. Well. He had a point…

“Well, I am not conning you now. I have indulged in such scenes in the past with lovers who requested them, but it is not the sort of sex play I favour. I derive no satisfaction from hurting others, other than when it helps them achieve their pleasure, and in those cases it is simply a means to an end and tolerable because of that. Certainly, I derive no personal pleasure from being tied up and hurt.”

Garrison barked out a laugh. “When you think how many times that happens to us, we’d be better off if we did.”

Which brought a smile to Actor’s face. “Perhaps they could add that to the OSS and SOE application forms?”

Garrison laughed again. “Imagine Richard’s face in the interviews. ‘Let’s dispense with the amenities and get down to your sexual proclivities…’”

Actor joined in the laughter, eyeing the younger man affectionately. “It is good to hear you laugh.”

Garrison sobered. “I’m sorry. I know things haven’t been easy of late.”

“For you, more than any of us,” Actor acknowledged softly.

“That’ll change,” Garrison promised.

Actor nodded his agreement. “I hope so. We have all been worried about you.”

“Have you now?” Garrison murmured, his gaze never leaving the Italian’s face.

Actor saw no reason to deny it; it was, after all, the truth. “You have become dear to us,” he said simply. “And very dear to me.”

“As you have, to me.”

Actor could not breath for the tightness that constricted his chest then, but he knew he still needed to address the root cause of Garrison’s problem.

“If you compare what the other men did to you in Austria to what I did to you, which of the two did you prefer?”

Garrison blinked in surprise at the question. “No contest. I’d take you every time.”

Actor smiled wryly. “I seem to recall that it was I who did the taking.”

And you refused me, the last time I asked…

Garrison’s gaze skittered away.

“Is that what you like?” Actor pressed gently. “To be taken?”

Garrison shook his head. “No. At least, not before. I’d always preferred to pitch. With you…” his voice trailed away at the memory and his gaze softened, “with you it was different, but I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

It was clear that Garrison was deeply conflicted by what had happened in Austria, but at least now Actor had an idea how to help him.

“And now that we are alone, with time on our hands and no imminent likelihood of being disturbed, what would you like to do?”

Garrison hesitated, his gaze dropping to contemplate the fingers laced on top of his knees, the knuckles white with tension. “Actor, we can't. I won't risk your…” He bit off the sentence as soon as he realised what he had been about to say.

“My parole,” Actor finished for him.

Garrison pinched the bridge of his nose. “You weren't supposed to know,” he admitted softly.

“Truth,” Actor said gently.

“I have no right to jeopardise your parole because I'm lonely and want to get laid.”

Actor contemplated his words.

“It's more than that, though, isn't it? You don't want an easy lay. You want something permanent. Something to fight for. Something to live for.”

Garrison closed his eyes and nodded slowly.

“So do I. But only with you.”

Garrison winced.

“Actor… “

Actor cut him off.

“I know. I'm a con man. But if Austria taught me one thing, it was how much you mean to me. I'm serious, Craig. Serious about you. Serious enough to risk my parole. Serious enough to forsake all others.”

“Til death us do part?” Garrison asked, cynically.

“I already follow you into fire,” Actor said softly. “Death would just be another step.”

Garrison stared at him, searching his face for artifice, and finding none.

“You're serious,” he said, incredulously.

“Truth,” Actor said simply.

Garrison breathed out slowly.

“If anyone found out…”

“They won't. If we can con the Germans, we can con G2. They will never know. They're far too busy trying to win the war to even look. And Chief, Casino, and Goniff will never betray us.“

For long moments Garrison said nothing.

It was clear to the Italian that he would need a little encouragement before he would open up further.

“Let me tell you what I would like to do now,” Actor said softly, trailing a finger along the American’s collarbone. “I would very much like you to make love to me as I made love to you in Austria.”

Garrison was already shaking his head. “Look, Actor, you don’t have to…”

Actor interrupted him before he could finish. “Craig, please do not think I am suggesting this as a remorseful penance to atone for my previous behaviour. Whilst I am perfectly capable of being the pitcher, as you so colourfully put it, I much prefer to be the catcher.”

He held the American’s gaze levelly.

“You know that I am bisexual. Whilst I can penetrate a man as readily as I can a woman, it is only with another man that I can enjoy the glory of being taken.”

He had Garrison’s full attention now, the man’s eyes huge.

“Which is why I want you to take me, Craig. Why I want that very much indeed.”

Garrison just stared at him.

God, it was tempting…

“Can’t we forget the war for once?” Actor asked plaintively.

Garrison's voice was all astonishment. “In the middle of an air raid?”

The Italian was undeterred. “So, let us live in the moment.” It was Actor at his irresistibly charming best.

“I don’t stand a chance,” Garrison murmured to himself. “You’re incorrigible,” he complained. Rising to his feet, he began tugging more blankets from the shelves onto the mattress.

Actor’s face broke into a smile. “Is that a yes?”

Garrison didn’t even look at him, simply kept spreading the blankets on the mattress and then draped a sheet over them. “Yes.”

Actor’s smile broadened as he reached for his bow tie and rummaged through a crate of toiletries for something to use as a lubricant.

Much later, they talked.

“How did you get to be so smart?” Garrison asked, absently, one hand mapping the contours of Actor’s belly. The Italian shrugged and continued to stroke his lover’s back.

“I am an avid reader.”

“Is that how you got to be such a good lover?” Garrison teased. He slid a hand between Actor’s thighs and gently caressed the tender flesh there. Delighted by both the compliment and the attention, the Italian sighed in pleasure, spreading his legs to allow his lover greater access. Garrison shifted down the makeshift bed and began pressing kisses where his fingers had been moments before.

“No, that’s because I’m an empiricist,” Actor added after some consideration.

Garrison’s lips vibrated as he laughed, dragging a low moan of delight from his lover.

“A most diligent and ardent one, when presented with the right incentive.” The Italian’s voice was throaty and breathless.

“So I see,” Garrison agreed, watching with delighted fascination as his lover’s shaft filled. He drew his tongue along its length and was rewarded with another low moan. “Seems like I have some catching up to do.” He swiped his tongue over the head of Actor’s shaft and then pressed his lips to the sensitive underside, his lover’s hips lifting in unconscious reaction. He spread his hands out over the Italian’s muscled thighs and held him down.

“Not that much, believe me,” Actor replied, his voice hoarse with passion. “Oh, do that again.”

“Liked that, did you?” Garrison asked with a smile. And waited.

“I will beg, if I have to,” Actor said in a strained voice.

Garrison lowered his head and repeated the movement.

“Oh, God!”

“Tell me what you want,” Garrison breathed raggedly.

“You,” Actor answered. “Only you.”

And meant it.

Afterwards, Actor carefully checked the cut on Garrison’s side, and they talked some more.

“You have no idea how I have been tormented by this,” Actor confessed.

“This?”

“Your proximity. So close, yet so tantalisingly unattainable. It almost drove me mad. You have no idea how many nights I cried your name as I touched myself, your moans in my head and your face in my mind. Oh, and how hollow those releases were without you to share them.”

Garrison stared at him, open-mouthed. “I had no idea.”

“A fact I was acutely aware of,” Actor said, with feeling.

Garrison stroked his thumb against his lover’s cheek. “Sorry.”

Actor sighed, the anger releasing as quickly as it had built. Turning his head, he pressed a kiss to his lover’s palm. “I forgive you, caro. Just…”

“Just…?” Garrison prompted when the Italian’s voice trailed away.

With a smooth roll of his powerful torso, Actor eased the American beneath his body and settled between Garrison’s thighs, his lover spreading them wide to allow a greater intimacy, lips spilling open and eyes narrowing with passion.

“Promise me you will not send me away again?” There was so much honesty and desperation in the quiet plea that both men were momentarily silenced by it.

“I promise.”

Garrison’s hand cupped the back of Actor’s head and drew it down, their lips meeting in an increasingly passionate kiss.

“I promise,” Garrison breathed into his lover’s mouth, and arched his hips against his lover’s body, dragging a low moan from the Italian. “So, let’s see how those night time fantasies of yours play out for real.” He arched his hips again, grinding their heated flesh together, and Actor groaned again, fingers entwining with Garrison’s as he drew the man’s hands out to the side and claimed his mouth in another searing kiss, rocking his hips in rhythm to the cadence set by his lover.

“Oh, God! Yes!”

Actor threw back his head, revelling in the sensation of the slick, slide of their bodies together, the agonising, erotic friction as their organs slid against each other, as the tension between them built, and moaned again.

Afterwards, they dressed with the unhurried gravity of men who had just survived both catastrophe and confession. Buttons were fastened with care, collars straightened, and dignity restored, piece by careful piece. Between them, they did what they could for the storeroom which, given that a German bomb had recently made its opinion of British architecture violently known, was an act of unabashed optimism.

Crates were righted, debris was shifted, and one particularly offended shelf was persuaded back into some semblance of duty. The blankets were folded into a corner and the mattress lent against the wall once more.

And then they waited.

When they heard voices echoing down the battered corridor outside they stood, side by side.

“Is there anybody here?”

The call carried panic, hope, and fear.

“Here. In the storeroom,” Garrison called back, his voice steady.

There followed the scrape and grunt of effort, the violent diplomacy of men arguing with fallen masonry. Eventually, with a final wrench and protest from hinges that had not consented to such treatment, the door was dragged open.

Actor blinked against the corridor light and felt immediate, unalloyed relief.

Raphael.

The aide to the ambassador was directing the rescue operation, his suit and sash now shrouded in dust, his authority sharpened by concern. The two old friends crossed the threshold at once and embraced tightly.

“You are unhurt?” Raphael demanded, already pulling back to inspect Actor’s face with the thoroughness of a field medic and the anxiety of a brother.

“I am fine, Raphael,” Actor assured him, warmth lacing his voice. “Lieutenant Garrison was cut by a splinter and briefly knocked unconscious, but he, too, will be fine.”

Raphael’s attention shifted at once.

Garrison stood close to ‘Torio, closer than he had stood before the bombing, and whatever rigid tension Raphael had noted earlier in the evening was now entirely absent. The lieutenant’s posture was easy, his expression composed, yes, but also softened, and ‘Torio, for his part, appeared far too relaxed for a man who had just had his plans for the evening rearranged by Axis ordnance.

If he did not know better…

Raphael firmly escorted that thought to the nearest filing cabinet in his mind and slammed the drawer shut. Whatever had transpired in the storeroom - and clearly something had - it had been good for both of them and that, above all else, was what mattered.

“I am very glad, ‘Torio,” Raphael said sincerely, and this time the words held a deeper meaning. “For both of you.”

“Thank you, Raphael,” Actor’s reply was quiet and unguarded. “For everything.”

Reassurances were telephoned, first to the mansion, then to General Garrison, who received the news with the measured calm of a soldier and the unmistakable undertone of a father who had very nearly lost something precious. Again.

An embassy staff car was summoned.

The ride into London had been all stiff collars and strained silences, sterile, and suffocating. The ride home was something else entirely. Darkness folded around the car like a curtain falling after a theatre performance. The city lights receded and the road stretched ahead of them. The world felt closer, more intimate, and inside the vehicle the silence was not strained, but shared. Only when London was well and truly behind them did Garrison finally speak. His words were soft and spoken in French.

“Truth or Dare?”

Actor did not hesitate. With a slow, knowing, curve of his mouth, he answered in the same language.

“Truth.”

Garrison’s eyes did not leave him.

“Did the earth move for you?”

Actor laughed, properly laughed, the sound warm and irrepressible in the dim interior of the car. He pressed his knee firmly and very deliberately against Garrison’s.

“Yes, my love,” he replied, voice silk over steel. “But I believe that may have been the Luftwaffe.”