Title: Duty Fulfilled
Author: Deb Hicks
Summary: Troy and Dietrich confront their feelings for each other after the war ends.
Note: Fourth in the "Duty" series; sequel to True Knight's Duty. Originally printed in FLANKING MANEUVERS 2

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New York – 1948



The clerk at the flight desk reached up and changed the placard to reflect the ten minute late arrival time for the London flight. Troy sighed and reached into his inside coat pocket in automatic search for his cigarettes. He frowned as he remembered his decision to quit smoking. Pacing the length of the waiting area, he finally threw himself into a chair, cursing the slow plane.

A slow smile touched his mouth. For three years, he'd been patient, waiting for the right time, waiting for the world to recover, waiting for final duties to be fulfilled. Three years, twenty odd letters, numerous phone calls and several telegrams - and he was being frustrated by an extra ten minutes. Straightening his tie, he sighed and settled in to wait.

Troy was heading for the gate even before the arrival call was finished. A sudden wave of nervousness hit him, and he wondered if perhaps he should have waited some more. The idea that this was a bad idea never occurred to him.

He reached the gate just as the first of the passengers were starting to come into the terminal. It was easy to spot the man he was waiting for, and Troy took a sharp breath at the sight of his old enemy. Hans Dietrich, ex-Werhmacht Panzer captain, looked lean, fit and healthy. He was wearing a gray suit that brought out the dark gold of his hair; the light gray shirt seemed to make the dark eyes bright. Troy was momentarily taken back, realizing this was the first time he had seen the man in anything other than a uniform, whether German, American or POW. He once more adjusted his tie, feeling very self-conscious in his own blue suit.

Dietrich spotted him, and a smile touched the lean features. Troy felt his own mouth lift in response. He stepped forward, and for a minute they regarded each other, remembering the many meetings before, most made over raised weapons.

Troy extended his hand. "Welcome back to America, Hans."

"Thank you, Sam." Dietrich took his hand, shook firmly.

The single touch was enough to rekindle all the fires, sharpen memories of desert nights, winter evenings, too brief minutes in a dying city and a good-bye on a frozen airstrip. A surge of warmth filled Troy's chest, and a jolt of lust followed it down to his groin. Catching Dietrich's gaze, he saw the same fire reflected there. His patience hadn't been wasted.

"Is that all your luggage?" Troy questioned, gesturing to the single bag.

"An old habit," Dietrich said. "I still travel very light."

"Yeah, some things are hard to shake," Troy admitted. With a smile, he added, "And some things are worth remembering."

Dietrich seemed surprised by his remark but only gestured for him to lead on. Troy led the way to the parking lot. The New York spring day was perfect, the sky bright blue, the air filled with the promise of life and the scent of flowers. Troy smiled, feeling very pleased with everything.

"Hope you don't mind riding in a truck," he commented as they came to a stop next to a new heavy pickup. On the doors were neatly printed signs that read "Samuel Troy and Sons Construction."

Dietrich noted it. "You are named for your father."

Troy looked at him in confusion, then remembered the sign. "Yeah. He was the one who started the business." Opening the door, he said a little sadly, "The "and sons" doesn't apply anymore."

Regret touched Dietrich's expression. "Your brother was kill..."

"No, no," Troy shook his head, seeing how his statement had been taken. "He's okay. He just decided to stay in England. He's an instructor for the RAF."

Walking around, Troy climbed in, waited for Dietrich before starting the truck. "Dad just wanted us to work the family business is all," he continued.

"Yes, I can understand that," Dietrich said, as they pulled onto the road. "My mother was very proud of me being appointed mayor but she was also a bit disappointed that I would not be working the farm."

Troy glanced at him. "Are you an only child?"

"No, I have an older sister, but she moved to South Africa with her husband in 1935."

For just a moment, a touch of nervousness hit him, causing Troy to grow silent. He and Dietrich didn't really know much about each other. The empathy they had shared over bullets and distance let him feel Dietrich's similar silence. And that made him laugh.

Dietrich looked at him strangely. "What do you find so amusing?"

"I was just thinking that we don't know much about each other." He got a confirming nod from the German. "Then I realized that we've been enemies who tried to kill each other, and we've been lovers who tried to keep each other safe. There's very few people in the world who know each other like we do."

Dietrich regarded him for a minute before an amused glitter entered the dark eyes. "You are quite correct. The rest is interesting but unimportant."

Heartened by Dietrich's assessment, Troy said, "Which do you want to do first, sleep or eat? The plane couldn't have been very good for either one."

"Perhaps it was the changes in altitude," Dietrich theorized, "but I find myself famished."

The traffic around them started to pick up as they neared New York. Troy keep them clear of most of it as he outlined the many varied choices for food available in the Big Apple.



It was amazing, Troy decided as he unlocked the apartment. He had been in New York a lot lately, setting up things for the company's expansion, but having a visitor opened up whole new adventures, like getting lost in Chinatown and ending up in a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. Much to both their pleasure, it had proven to be one of the best meals either of them had eaten in a long time. If he could find the place again, Troy had promised they would eat there again before Dietrich left for home.

Dinner had been relaxed, the conversation filling him with a warmth like spring rain. He had caught Dietrich up on the postwar adventures of his team. Troy was not surprised that Dietrich asked after each of them; Troy was not the only desert rat that had plagued his existence, he had come to know the others well too. They had enjoyed a long laugh at the absent Professor Moffitt's experiences in dealing with an Arab chief who wanted him as part of the family, no matter how many daughters it took to accomplish that. He had told him of his intent to hire Hitch as soon as he graduated from college. Tully, he hadn't heard from in a year but at last notice, he was a father for the second time, another girl, and his garage was doing well.

The door swung open and Troy picked up Dietrich's bag, motioning his companion inside. Through the windows that dominated the west wall the red-purple of sunset colored the New York skyline, turning the gold and bronze of some of the old roofs into a glorious blaze of color. Dietrich stepped past Troy to admire it. Troy sat the bag down, watching Dietrich's enjoyment. When the German turned back to him there was the slightest bit of condemnation in his expression.

"Really, Troy," he chided, "it wasn't necessary to go to this expense to impress me."

Troy stared at him blankly. "What expense?"

Dietrich gestured around the well furnished room, finished by indicating the window. "A normal hotel room would have done nicely."

"Yeah, this place is kind of expensive to rent," Troy said with a slight smile. "Good thing I own it."

Dietrich's look of complete surprise was one Troy had seen only a few times, once in the dark of a desert tent, once in the harsh light of an SS cell. "The apartment is yours?"

"The building is mine or the company's actually," Troy explained.

Shaking his head, Dietrich turned back to the fast fading sunset. Troy stepped closer as Dietrich chuckled. "You will forever continue to surprise me, Troy."

Dietrich's dark eyes caught the fading glow of the sinking sun as he smiled at Troy. Troy didn't know who moved first. They were suddenly together, the spring warmth that had surrounded two friends all day now built with one touch into a firestorm between two lovers. Troy's tongue slipped into Dietrich's mouth and he moaned softly at the well remembered taste. He reached for Dietrich's coat, managed somehow to get it off and the shirt open with only losing one button. Dietrich tugged down Troy's zipper, hand sliding inside.

Breaking the kiss, Troy gasped at the hot hand that tightened around his already hard cock. His own shirt didn't fare as well, losing several buttons to his haste. Releasing his shaft, Dietrich stepped away, shedding his clothes with equal abandon. Troy managed to get his pants off just as Dietrich grabbed him. Troy took Dietrich's mouth again, sliding his tongue into wet welcome. They went down to their knees on the thick carpet, still locked in the deep kiss.

For an instant Troy thought of trying to get them into the bedroom but Dietrich's hand on his cock vanquished the idea. He moaned against the sensuous mouth, reached for Dietrich's long shaft, firing flaring along his nerves. As his fingers tightened around the head, Dietrich tipped them over. The position they ended up in, Troy flat on his back on the hard floor with Dietrich's strong arms under him, should have been uncomfortable. Troy didn't notice.

All he could feel was the hard press of his swollen cock against Dietrich's muscled stomach, the prod of Dietrich's solid shaft just under his balls. Dietrich moaned, shifting, sliding his cock between Troy's thighs. Troy pulled Dietrich even closer, fired by the weight of the solid body. Dietrich's mouth sucked at his shoulder as the man became to thrust, sliding his whole body against Troy. Troy groaned, meeting each move with a counter effort, feeling the strong muscles flex under his arms. Grabbing Dietrich's head, he brought them together in another searching kiss. Fire whipped through him. He arched up to it, driving desperately against the German's stomach.

The body wrapped in his arms stiffened and Dietrich cried out, thrusting down with all his strength. Hot liquid flowed between Troy's legs, splattering his balls and ass. It was gasoline on the fire. With a deep groan Troy shoved up, coming in one quick shattering flare. He pumped his offering between the two of them, his final thrust smearing it across their stomachs.

Several long minutes went by as they fought to get their breathing under control. Dietrich's weight becoming a little heavier as the tense muscles went limp. When at last reality floated back in, Troy started to chuckle. With an effort, Dietrich slid off, lay by Troy's side, staring at him in confusion. Troy only laughed harder.

"Damn, Dietrich," he finally gasped. "I haven't come that fast since I was eighteen."

Dietrich looked down at their sweaty bodies, at the thick fluid spread across their stomachs and on the floor; he noticed the clothes scattered just inside the door. Very slowly, he smiled, then gave way to laughter. Troy rolled them together, holding Dietrich, enjoying the feel of his laughter, enjoying the German completely enjoying life.



The boat swung around, bringing Lady Liberty into perfect view, into the view that had greeted millions of refugees as they came to their new home. Troy felt a tug of pride. His own family had come in before the statue had been put up, but it was still a symbol he understood. He cast a quick glance at Dietrich. The tall German was staring at the statue with a neutral look. Troy frowned, wondering if perhaps this had not been the best place to finish their day of exploring the city. Dietrich was a noble, proud German, would he see this as Troy rubbing in America's victory over his own country?

"I guess us Americans like to show off sometimes," he offered lamely.

"It is a magnificent sight," Dietrich said softly. "You have every right to be proud."

The small ferry swung back toward the dock and the skyline of New York greeted them. "You were awake very early this morning," he observed to Troy.

"Yeah, had to check on couple of things." With a smile Troy added, "Oh, yeah, seems there was a package arrived at the office yesterday for you."

"For me?" Dietrich asked, puzzled. "Who would be sending... Ah, Professor Moffitt's yearly gift."

"I'm having it sent over to the apartment," Troy added.

Shaking his head, Dietrich said, "I have written him to explain that he does not need to send me a bottle of champagne every year."

"That's Jack," Troy acknowledged. "Knowing him, he'll do it until you die."

"And if he should go first?" Dietrich prompted.

"He'll have his estate do it," Troy said with complete certainty.

Dietrich regarded him for a minute, then with characteristic insight, asked, "What is he sending you?"

Not surprised he had been figured out, Troy admitted, "A tin of beef stew on the anniversary of his joining us."

The ferry docked with a slight bump as Dietrich said flatly, "I think I prefer the champagne."

They walked around the harbor side for a while, talking, remembering their adventures and the city's future. Troy frowned, it seemed impossible to keep his eyes off Dietrich. The man looked younger, happier than he had ever seen him. The wind from the harbor kept blowing his hair down into his eyes and it was all Troy could do not to reach up and tug on it. Forcing his mind away from thoughts like that on a public street, Troy motioned them toward a hot dog vendor. Troy brought them street side lunch before starting back to the truck. After a few bites, Dietrich was obviously less than excited. Halfway back to the truck the German tossed his to a stray dog that was sniffing around one of the ferry docks garbage cans.

"Hey," Troy suddenly spoke up. "What did you do with that dog?"

Dietrich squinted at him in confusion. "What dog?"

"You know, the little one that followed us in the tank..."

"You!" Dietrich's eyes narrowed. "You were responsible for that cur!"

Startled by the outrage in the deep voice, Troy said carefully, "Well, we rescued him and he kind of followed us..."

"That.... dog," Dietrich hissed, "chewed up my only decent pair of boots the day before I had to report to Rommel! By the time I returned to base he had also managed to break in and eat a sack of dried fruit I was saving for the next leave."

Troy was having a hard time not smiling. Very carefully, he asked, "So, what did you finally do with him?"

"I gave him to the Arab cook and had him stewed," Dietrich said.

Troy's mouth dropped open. "You didn't," he denied, though his voice was a little squeaky.

Dietrich held his haughty glare for an instant longer, then squinted at Troy. "No, I didn't. I arranged to have him sent to my mother. He still lives with her."

The sentimentality that such an effort displayed caused Troy's face to lift in a soft smile. He very much wished they were somewhere off the street, somewhere he could have kissed the taller man. As it was, he settled for a hand on the strong shoulder.

Looking embarrassed by the whole affair, Dietrich said, "Yes, well, it seems that associating with too many sentimental Americans had rubbed off on me. Much to my regret. The little demon has chewed up most of my mother's best rugs."

Tightening his hold on Dietrich's shoulder, Troy said, "I'll buy her a couple of new ones."



The view offered by the restaurant was spectacular; the food, incredible. Troy picked up his glass, savoring the champagne the Moffitt had sent to Dietrich three days before. The time in between had passed far too quickly, the days marked with touring the city, the nights marked with youthful passion and the comfort of another body close during the night. And each day Troy started to ask the question, and each day he found himself unable to get the words right. With only two nights left, tonight, he told himself, tonight would end what he had waited three years to ask.

He looked across at Dietrich, and found his gaze returned by dark eyes. Dietrich smiled. "I must be getting slow," Dietrich said. "I have only just realized that you are no longer smoking."

With a shrug, Troy said, "Doctors say they aren't good for you." Dietrich's knowing gaze held his. With a sigh, he added, "I decided to quit when your doctor told you it would be easier on your chest."

The light from the table's flickering candle sparkled in Dietrich's expression. "You quit smoking for me?"

"Yeah," Troy said, a little defiantly. "I didn't want you not being able to breathe, for God's sake."

The smile Dietrich gave him was dazzling. "Thank you. That was...."

"Dietrich," Troy leaned forward intently. "Join me. Albert is retiring in three years. The company is about to expand into Europe. I want you to come to work for me."

Dietrich stared at him in complete shock. Taking a deep breath, Troy said, "I know this is kind of a surprise but I've been thinking about it a lot. Germany needs steel and workers and architects. You know the schools, where we can hire the best. You speak French and German. I need someone to set up the office. You said you didn't want to stay in politics. Now's your chance."

A grain of sand rolling across the table would have sounded like thunder. Troy watched the warmth faded from Dietrich's expression, and realized what the whole thing must have sounded like. He reached across the table, touched Dietrich's arm.

"Look, this ain't just a job offer." Suddenly very conscious of his surroundings, he said, "Let's go home and I'll explain."

Eyes flat and wary, Dietrich nodded in silence. A few minutes later they were standing outside the restaurant. A strong breeze shook the trees across the street in Central Park. Troy hailed a cab and started to get in, Dietrich's hand stopped him.

"I think perhaps I will walk back," he said calmly.

"It's gonna start raining," Troy argued.

The wry half-smile answered him. "Then I will get wet." Seriously, Dietrich said, "I need time to think."

Understanding, Troy nodded. "Be careful. This isn't Africa but it can be just as dangerous."



For an hour Troy paced the well-carpeted floor cursing himself. The more he thought about his sudden announcement the more inept it seemed. He wanted Dietrich to share his life, but romantic words were not something he was good at. Smiling weakly, he wondered if he would have had this much trouble asking a woman to marry him. He went over the words again, trying desperately to think of how to make it better.

Rain pattering on the window caught his attention. Glancing down at his watch, he realized that Dietrich should have been back. His anger at himself turned to anger at Dietrich for not just coming back and hearing him out. Worry followed hard on the anger, making his pacing more frenetic. Half an hour later, he slipped on his coat, intent on finding his companion. He swung the door open - Dietrich was standing there, key out.

"Damnit, Dietrich, where the hell have you...." He stopped as he realized the taller man was shivering. "Shit!"

Grabbing Dietrich's arm, Troy practically threw him into the room. "Get out of those clothes before you get sick again."

Dietrich straightened, still reluctant to take orders from anyone. "It is only..." Troy glared up at him and slowly, exasperation touched Dietrich's mouth. "Very well."

Ten minutes later, stripped to his shorts and wrapped in a bathrobe, Dietrich sat on the couch, sipping the coffee Troy had poured. Troy sat opposite him in a wide, overstuffed chair, also sipping the hot drink. A lengthy silence went by, both obviously getting their emotions under control.

Running a hand through his hair, Troy leaned intently forward, "I'm sorry, Hans. I've fucked this whole night up."

"Troy..."

"No," he cut Dietrich off. "Please, I need another shot at it."

The lights of the city sparkled through the rain streaked window, adding a soft glow to the single lamp in the room. With a deep breath, Troy met the dark gaze, let all his thoughts and feelings reach his own expression, as he had so long ago in a cold cell in Berlin.

"It wasn't about a job." Bluntly, he said, "I need you in my life."

Dietrich blinked at him, nothing more.

Troy gestured around the room, to the window. "All this--the business, the life I have, the future I want to build--it doesn't mean anything if there's no one to share it. I want you to share it with me."

At the slight pause, Dietrich started to speak, but Troy cut him off. "I know you love Germany and you have responsibilities there. That's why I thought you could handle the European office. We'd be sharing the work, and I'd have to spend time there, and you'd have to spend time here. I..."

He stammered to a stop, looking helplessly over at Dietrich. The German smiled sadly. "You can't say it, can you?"

It was Troy's turn to start to speak only to be cut off.

"How do I know how you feel if you can't even admit it to yourself?" Dietrich said quietly.

Coming across the floor in one quick move, Troy knelt in front of the man, gripped his cold hands. "You think I can't admit it? I love you. I can't tell you..."

A slow, satisfied smile spread across Dietrich's handsome face. Troy took a sharp breath. "You sneaky Kraut," he accused. "You knew I'd..."

"Do whatever I said you couldn't," Dietrich said slyly.

Troy pushed up and kissed slowly down the long throat. When he eased away though his expression turned serious. "Did you think, after Berlin, that I didn't? I thought you knew..."

Dietrich's hand cupped his chin, his eyes once more soft, open. "I am thirty nine years old, Sam. In my life, except for one very young girl speaking to one very confused young boy, I have never heard those words." He kissed lightly along Troy's mouth, hands running through his hair. "I had always wished to hear them, if only once. You don't have to say them again."

"I love you, Hans Wilhelm Dietrich," Troy whispered, letting himself enjoy the words. "Hey, that sounds pretty good."

"And I love you, Samuel Alan Troy," Dietrich said very seriously.

Troy suddenly started talking excitedly in between slow licks and quick kisses, "There'll be a lot to do. We have to figure out the best place for the European office. I'll make arrangements here for you to get the next apartment over. We'll..."

"Sam."

Troy pulled back, stared into sadness in Dietrich's gaze. "What's..."

"No," Dietrich said evenly.

"No?" Totally confused, Troy stared at him. "No, what?"

Dietrich sighed, stroked his hand down Troy's cheek. "No, I won't work for you. No, I won't join you. No, I won't share this life with you."

Cold such as he hadn't felt since a Berlin cell filled Troy's blood. "What? You said..."

"I said, and I meant, that I love you, Sam," Dietrich said quietly. "I love you enough not to ruin your life."

Emotions which he would barely acknowledge spun in a tight circle through Troy's stomach. Anger tore free. He shoved up, coming to his feet. "What the fuck are you talking about?!"

Dietrich stood, hands behind his back, very straight and very formal. "You are not like me or your brother," he said firmly. "We have no choice in who we love or how we must live. You do. You don't have to live with the hiding, the lies, the risks..."

"I know what I'm getting into," Troy protested hotly. "I'm not stupid. I've talked to David. I understand what the two of you..."

"Troy, you have a chance at a normal life." The rich voice Troy had known in so many tones, now became wistful. "You like women. You can marry, have a family."

"God damnit, Dietrich," Troy snapped. "I love you."

"And I you," Dietrich said softly. "But I will not let you destroy your future on a... wartime fantasy."

A thousand responses and arguments filled Troy's mind, but he was more than familiar with the stubbornness in the sable eyes. He knew Dietrich, knew there was nothing short of a loaded pistol that would make him change his mind. Swallowing the anger, outrage and hurt, he took a deep breath. Cold silence claimed the room. Dietrich's gaze dropped to the floor.

"I knew you loved me," Dietrich said softly. "As I knew the offer was not just for a job. That's way I needed the time to think."

He looked up, eyes very bright in the dim room. "I am sorry I forced you to confess your love. I had only wanted to know.... it was not just my wartime fantasy." He took a deep breath, "Perhaps it would be better if I were to fly home tomorrow."

Troy's instincts told him to yell no, but he fought it under control. Calmly, he said, "No, don't do that. We still have to take that ride in Central Park."

Troy reached out, put a hand on Dietrich's shoulder."That day, when I had to leave you in the oasis, I made myself a couple of promises. One was that I would stand by you as a friend. I still plan on doing that."

Dietrich's dark eyes shone with relief that he had not lost everything. Troy gave him a forced smile.

"I also promised to introduce you to my brother," he said lightly. "I haven't done that yet."

The awkward silence returned, and Dietrich broke it again, by saying, "I think I will go to bed now. It is late and... I'm still a bit cold."

"Okay," Troy said. "I'll wake you in the morning."

With a nod, Dietrich turned and headed for the bedroom. Troy watched him go, feeling numb. As Dietrich started into the bedroom, he stopped, half-turned.

"Troy?"

"Yeah?"

"I will always remember your words."

The door closed finally on Troy's dream.



He broke the lamp first, then the vase, then seriously considered shooting out the window. Instead, he sat down on the bed and fought his anger under control. Once that emotion were gone, he was afraid of what was left. There was a large, empty feeling in the middle of his chest, a hole he'd felt twice before, each time with more intensity. Once it had been of his own making, when he'd tossed a grenade and watched Dietrich knocked to the ground; next had been when he'd awakened in a hospital, thinking the German was dead. The feeling had been wrong those times, and he knew there had to be a way to make Dietrich see how wrong it was this time.

Dietrich loved him and knew Troy returned that love. He also sincerely believed he was doing the best thing for Troy. Dietrich was being noble, fulfilling his duty to his friend. How could Troy argue with that? How could he convince Dietrich that they belonged together? Why couldn't Dietrich see that?

The answer was Sahara heat and Berlin cold, a wave that filled him with exasperation at German pride and stubbornness and his own inability to be talkative. He came to his feet, smiling. Nearly running to Dietrich's room, he jerked the door open and hit the light switch. Dietrich sat up quickly, too quickly to have been asleep.

"Troy?"

"You goddamn, stupid German," Troy snapped. He stalked to the bed. "Get your stubborn ass out of that bed."

"There is nothing left for us to discuss..." Dietrich started to argue.

Troy cut him off by suddenly straddling Dietrich's narrow hips and grabbing the man's wrists, pinning his arms to the solid oak headboard. Dietrich was too startled to resist.

"I have called you a lot of names since you first tried to kill me," Troy growled. "But this is the first time coward comes to mind!"

Every muscle under him tightened, preparing to fight. Anger flared in Dietrich's eyes. "How dare you!" Dietrich hissed. "I will..."

Troy kissed him, hard, without a hint of gentleness. "How dare I? How dare you think you can cover the fact that you're scared shitless!"

His words struck hard, harder than the kiss, harder than the hold he had on the narrow wrists. Dietrich flinched, but his eyes stayed cold. "I don't..."

"Yes, you do," Troy said firmly. "You know what I'm talking about. You're afraid I'll get tired of wartime fantasies. You're afraid I'll wake up one day and want a family and a wife and a normal life. You're so scared of losing what we have that you're willing to throw it away under the guise of fulfilling your duty to me."

Troy watched the anger in the dark eyes fade into guilt. Very slowly, he eased his grip on Dietrich's wrists, lowering them until he held the slender hands in front of him. He raised first one then the other, kissing slowly over the pulse point, across the still-tight fists.

"And it's my fault," Troy admitted. "I'm not good with words, not like you and Moffitt. So, listen close, Hans, I don't wanna have to repeat myself. Once all we had was duty--to our country, our army, our men. Now it's time to fulfill the duty to ourselves, to give ourselves a chance at a little happiness. Don't be afraid of it," he said through clenched teeth.

Slowly, he kissed along the set jaw. "I love you, and only you, and will for the rest of my life."

For a long time they sat there in silence, Troy lightly holding Dietrich's wrists, Dietrich's eyes locked with his. Very slowly, astonishment colored Dietrich's face.

"I knew you... loved me," Dietrich said lowly. "But... I wasn't. I didn't realize.... You really are quite serious."

"Yes," Troy said firmly.

Dietrich slipped one hand away from Troy's loose hold, very slowly brushed his fingertips over Troy's cheeks and lips, touching as if it were the first time. His hand circled the back of Troy's neck and pulled him down to met his mouth. The kiss was slow and easy, filled with love and promise. Troy suddenly found himself wrapped in a tight hold, lowered back to the bed. Dietrich trailed kisses across his cheeks. The touch brought relief so strong it was like morphine after a bullet wound.

Chuckling, Troy asked, "So, is that no a yes now?"

"Yes," Dietrich said, smiling back.

"It's a good thing one of us has more brains than stubbornness," Troy said. He cut off Dietrich's reply by kissing him very lightly, very gently.

"There's much that I will have to take care of," Dietrich started, hand playing through Troy's hair.

"Yeah, same at this end," Troy answered with a sigh, leaning back into the erotic touch.

"Perhaps tomorrow we should spend the day planning the moves," Dietrich suggested.

Smiling, Troy let his hands drift down the lightly-haired chest, touching almost reverently over the harsh scar on Dietrich's chest. He still flinched inside, but now that they were safe and together, it didn't hurt as much to think of it.

"Think of something better to do tonight?" Troy kidded.

A soft chuckle answered him, and the hold around his shoulders loosened, the caresses becoming gentle and soothing. He looked up at Dietrich, marveling at the look of hunger and happiness that lined the lean face. Dietrich followed his hand down Troy's chest, brushed lightly over his stomach. Troy laughed.

Dietrich looked up, suspicion in his gaze now. "What do you find so amusing, Troy?"

Troy could still hear the word "sergeant" in front of his name when Dietrich used that tone. "The fact that we did it. We survived each other, the war, and fate."

"And now," Dietrich picked up, "I can enjoy the fact that you really are mine."

Troy smiled at the possessive tone. "So, what are you going to do now that you've got me?"

To Troy's surprise, Dietrich stretched out next to him. "Considering the hour, I am going to suggest we both get some sleep."

Before Troy could voice the other things he had in mind, long arms wrapped around him, pulling him deep into the German's hold. The look of exhaustion he had seen in Dietrich's eyes stopped him from doing anything else. Turning sideways to lay his head on Dietrich's shoulder, he started to say something about their plans in the morning but the warmth and security he felt in Dietrich's arms lulled him to sleep before he could voice the desires.



Rolling over, Troy blinked at the dawn light just shining over the rooftops. They hadn't closed the curtains last night. He knew in the future they would have to be more careful, but he was glad they hadn't. In the pale, rainy light he gazed at the man sleeping soundly next to him and smiled. He wouldn't have thought it possible for a man to look happy sleeping, but Dietrich managed it. The handsome face was soft, relaxed, the hair falling across his forehead, inviting Troy's touch.

Troy smiled and, despite his best intentions to let Dietrich sleep, he reached out and stroked slowly down one muscled arm. The slight touch brought his companion instantly awake, another habit left over from the war. The sable eyes, very dark in the subtle dawn light, studied him in quiet pleasure. Troy gave him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself," he whispered. "Go back to sleep."

The answer was Dietrich's arm tightening around his back, urging him closer. Troy went eagerly, kissing the nearest flesh he could find, which happened to be Dietrich's shoulder, hands sliding down Dietrich's flank and over his narrow hips. Rain pattered against the window, recalling another stormy night and the passion that had flared between them. Troy leaned over, licking over Dietrich's full lips, sliding into wet welcome as Dietrich sucked his tongue into his mouth. With a combination sigh and groan, Troy moved on top of the bigger man, his full cock sliding across the flat stomach. Dietrich returned the moan, thrusting up.

Troy moved off with one quick kiss to each of Dietrich's taut nipples. Without waiting to see the response, he flipped around, straddling Dietrich's shoulders, putting his straining shaft within reach of the talented mouth. Flashes of memory touched him as he ran his hands through the thick gold curls surrounding Dietrich's wine red cock. He had not been in love with the German captain on their first passionate night, nor even the next time in a cold prison cell. Yet, he could not deny the warmth that was beyond lust when they had next met in a sunlit Alabama field. Slender fingers ran hotly around his own cock, cutting off any further contemplation.

He wrapped his fingers around Dietrich's cock, tightened, released, teased and enticed. Dietrich groaned, hips coming off the new sheets, trying to urge Troy's hand to faster moments. Lowering his head, Troy licked once across the flared head. Dietrich cried out, loud and full, giving himself to the freedom of solid walls and unrestrained passion. With a smile, Troy slipped the hot cock through his lips and deep into his mouth, treasuring the feel of solid flesh heavy on his tongue.

"Troy..." Dietrich whispered. "God..."

Anything else Dietrich might have tried to say was lost as he echoed Troy's move. Troy sighed, closing his eyes and letting himself feel the slow slid of his cock into Dietrich's mouth. The long tongue swirled around his shaft, teasing under the head, tracing the throbbing vein. Heat flared, causing him to pause, to stop and let himself enjoy the slow burn he could feel in his nerves. Troy returned the move by increasing the suction on Dietrich's cock. His hand tightened around the swollen base, sliding on the saliva he dribbled down the shiny length. He started to move, building a rhythm he had learned from Dietrich that first night together, a pulse that he knew would feed the fire in both their bodies.

Dietrich also started to suck harder, and Troy felt a single finger slip in next to his cock, gathering the slick moisture. Troy squirmed, moving his ass into an easier position for Dietrich to reach him. Another image, much like one Dietrich had once fulfilled, flared through his mind like a hot wind off Sahara sands. The image alone swelled his cock a little more, threatening to send him over far, far too soon.

Troy moved away, sliding his cock regretfully from Dietrich's mouth. He rolled next to Dietrich. Taking the puzzled face in his hands, he kissed along Dietrich's jaw, down the long, white throat.

"Make me feel those desert mornings," Troy whispered against the full lips.

Dietrich drew back, eyes sparkling with delight and fright. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Did I hurt you?" Troy asked quietly, kissing across the high cheeks.

"Only for a moment," Dietrich admitted. "But you had done it before."

That statement stopped Troy argument. "You've never...?"

The blond fringe fell across Dietrich's forehead as he shook his head. "There was never anyone worth the risk."

Understanding, Troy nodded. Curiosity forced him to ask, "Would you have risked it for me?"

Dietrich looked thoughtful for a minute, his hands moving without his knowledge down Troy's sides. He gave a careful shake of his head. "No." At Troy's surprised look, he said, "For me, yes." He raised his hand, stroked along Troy's cheek. "But I would not have risked your life."

The glow of love in the sable eyes filled Troy's heart. Swallowing hard, he said, "I love you."

"I had noticed," Dietrich said dryly.

"You're not going to hurt me," Troy assured him. "You never do anything without being careful and thoughtful. It's what always got you into trouble."

"What?" Dietrich asked, sounding confused.

"In Africa," Troy explained. "You always over-thought things."

A flash of annoyance went over Dietrich face. "Careful planning...."

His defensive response was cut off by Troy once more taking his mouth, licking along the full lips. Dietrich's tongue pushed against his own teeth and he opened his mouth, taking the other deep and sucking hard. Dietrich groaned, thrusting down against Troy's stomach.

When the kiss broke, Dietrich looked put out. "You are a most annoying person, Troy."

"Yeah," Troy smiled. His hands pressed between their bodies, one finger stroking up Dietrich's full shaft. "And afterwards? After the pain?"

A sensuous, pleased look flooded Dietrich's eyes. "It was everything I had ever hoped for or imagined."

"Then what's the problem?" Troy asked quietly.

Dietrich slid on top of him, kissing his face, hands playing lightly over his chest, swelling cock prodding his stomach. Troy sighed, letting himself sink into the feeling of being possessed, of giving everything to Dietrich The pause had let the fire in his blood die to hot embers. Dietrich's tongue flicked out, barely touching one nipple. Troy's fingers tangled in the fine blond hair, urging Dietrich up to meet his mouth. He shoved his tongue through the perfect lips, sliding into the wet velvet. Moans from two throats filled the room. Dietrich pressed down, sliding his cock across Troy's. Troy gasped, breaking the kiss, arching up.

Grabbing Dietrich, Troy rolled them over, pressing down against the bigger man. He plundered the deep mouth, rolled the sensitive nipples with his thumb and forefinger. A throaty growl sounded in the room, making Troy smiled.

"I like when you make noise," he said huskily. Much to Troy's delight a flush colored Dietrich's features and the man glared at him.

"Really, Troy," he chided. "Does everything I do amuse you?"

That required a moment of thought. Troy leaned down, flicked his tongue lightly over Dietrich's left nipple. He let his eyes meet Dietrich's, let his breath whisper over the wet flesh. "No, most things get me hot."

That caused a combination of exasperation and amusement to lighten the coffee-colored eyes. Dietrich squirmed beneath him, frictioning their cocks together. Before he could get too carried away, and take Troy with him, Troy moved off the bed. As before in a damp Antwerp hotel room, he went to the bathroom, emerging a minute later with a jar of lubricant. This time he made no attempt to hide it, offering it to Dietrich with only the slightest tremble of his hand.

Dietrich sat the jar aside, took Troy's hand. With his eyes narrowed to dark slits, Dietrich sucked on each finger, swirling his tongue around each digit as if they were mini-cocks. Troy gasped at the sensuousness in so simple a move.

"Damn, Dietrich," he panted.

To control the waves of fire the slow sucking had started in his blood, Troy reached for the jar. Urging Dietrich away just slightly, Troy took a handful of the slippery gel and warmed it between his hands. Very slowly, as he had done once before, he coated Dietrich's large cock, reaching down to roll the taut balls. Dietrich's eyes slipped shut, and he swallowed hard. After only a minute, he reached down and caught Troy's hands.

"Enough." Releasing him, Dietrich said quietly, "Roll over."

"No," Troy said huskily. "I want to watch you."

A frown lifted Dietrich's mouth. "That is not an easy position."

Troy smiled. "When have we ever done anything the easy way."

His joking did not relieve Dietrich's concerned look. Troy ran his hand up a well muscled arm. In a soft voice, he said, "I couldn't see you when I did you. I want to see your face, like in Berlin. I like seeing what I can do to you."

A very characteristic look crossed Dietrich's face as he thought it over. It was all Troy could do not to smile. He waited, letting Dietrich think. After what seemed an eternity, Dietrich nodded very slightly.

Bending down, he kissed Troy's chest, teased over each nipple, drawing a gasp from Troy's throat. "Roll over," Dietrich ordered.

"Hans..." Troy started to protest, only to have his own tactics turned against him. Dietrich cut him off with a gentle kiss.

"I promise," he whispered hotly to Troy. "You will see me, as I will watch you, but for now, roll over."

Trusting Dietrich's word, and only hoping they both didn't come too soon, Troy gave the man one more kiss, then turned over, coming to his hands and knees. Immediately, soft hands started to stroke along his back, Dietrich's sweat-slick thighs pressing against his legs. Slow strokes combined with wet licks and gentle nips as Dietrich continued down his back. Troy squirmed, feeling the fire each touch fueled in his blood.

"Hans...."

"You are incredibly handsome," Dietrich praised. "I love watching you."

The mattress dipped as Dietrich shifted and Troy felt himself tense despite the heat that was melting his bones. Something wet drifted down his ass, over the tight entrance to his body. Troy gasped, too startled even to think as Dietrich tongued and teased the ridged muscle. Then something else, a single finger, sliding deep on saliva and gel, entered him. Troy groaned, pressing back, letting his lover know he wanted, needed to be filled. Pressure followed, and a little pain as Dietrich slipped another finger in next to the first.

"Come on, Hans," Troy pleaded. "I want you."

The two fingers eased out of the well-oiled muscle. Dietrich leaned over him, kissing lightly along his shoulders. One hand went under him, pumping his swollen cock. He felt Dietrich's hard shaft press against his ass, then slow, sure pressure as Dietrich forced his way past tight muscle. Pain ripped along Troy's nerves. He bit back a cry and fought the urge to lunge away. The arm around him tightened, held him steady.

"Remember your words to me," Dietrich urged. "Relax, breathe."

Troy took a deep breath, willed the pain away, told his muscles to let go. Underneath the pain he could feel the promise of pleasure, the alien sensation of fullness. Dietrich held still, letting him ride out the worst of it. Soft wet kisses rained along his shoulders, down his spine.

"Talk to me," Troy pleaded quietly. "I've always liked your voice."

A deep chuckle, something else he very much liked, sounded from near his ear. "What would you like me to say, Sam?" The rich voice became unashamedly seductive. "Do you know that I've never shared this with anyone? Would you like to know how wonderful it feels to be inside you? Do you want to know how long I've wanted you?"

Troy shook his head, feeling his back loosen, feeling the wide invader touch deeper into his body.

"That night, in Mohadid's camp, when you let me kiss you, since then." The soft admission startled Troy. Before he could wonder too long, Dietrich added, "You were accepting and trusting, and very handsome. How could I not want you?"

The hard shaft moved slightly deeper, and the first stirrings of pleasure touched Troy's nerves. "Damn..."

"Shall I tell you what I first noticed about you?" Dietrich continued hotly, hand stroking steadily down Troy's full cock. "After I stopped seeing only a target?"

Troy spiraled between feelings: between the fading pain and the building passion; between the embarrassment of Dietrich's words and his curiosity. "What?" he questioned.

"It was when you took the radio station," Dietrich said. "As we stood there taunting each other, the thought came to me that you had eyes the color of winter sky."

Troy laughed shakily, still a little unnerved at such open flattery. He let his thoughts drift to his first impression of Dietrich. The gun the German had held seemed to be the only thing he could remember. He had been convinced he would die then, having just blown up the captain's half-track. A single thought struck him.

"You were graceful," Troy said.

"What?" Dietrich questioned.

"The first thing I noticed," Troy explained. He took a deep breath, feeling the tension fade under the surprisingly clear memories. "When you jumped out of the hit half-track, then when Moffitt surprised you, you seemed graceful."

Any further memories were lost under the rain of kisses along his neck. For the first time, Troy pushed back, feeling their heartbeats in their joined bodies. Twisting, he looked over his shoulder at Dietrich. His unasked question was answered as Dietrich leaned forward and kissed him. The movement drove his cock deeper - and every nerve in Troy's body suddenly exploded in pleasure.

He broke the kiss with a cry of ecstasy. It was echoed by a deep groan from Dietrich. With the pain evaporated under the heat, Troy gave himself to the incredible sensations, to the need for more, to the desire for everything Dietrich could give him. Shoving back, Troy raked that special spot again, gasping. Dietrich's hands tightened on his hips, holding him still.

"Dear God, Sam..." Dietrich breathed against his neck. "Perfect... wonderful...."

Dietrich shoved in, pulled back. On the next slow slide in, Troy pushed back, feeling the heavy balls grind against his ass. "Damn.... Hans, do it..."

The answer to his demand was for Dietrich to ease out. Troy's head snapped around. "Dietrich! What..."

Eyes filled with heat and lust met his. Dietrich started to speak, managed a near growl, "Roll over."

Only now remembering his original idea, Troy flipped over, raising his legs. The sight of his lover's condition sent a wave of love to match the lust already heating his blood. Dietrich was breathing hard, hair plastered along his face with sweat, cheeks flushed, eyes glittering. Troy smiled, sliding down further, offering himself to Dietrich. He stretched to run his hand down Dietrich's thigh.

"You're incredible," he told Hans.

The smile that answered him was blinding. Dietrich leaned forward, sliding deep and sure into Troy's body. Troy arched up, throwing his head back against the pillow.

"God damn...." he groaned.

The position was awkward, the strain on his legs strange, and the pleasure that had filled him before was now multiplied, was now beyond any thought or comparison he could find. Dietrich completed him, made him realize just how long he had wanted this, how much he wanted this man with him forever. With a soft groan, Dietrich pulled back, the move sent unimagined passion through Troy's nerves. He cried out again, a wordless plea for more. The answer was for Dietrich to move, a little harder, a little deeper. Troy twisted, pulling the cock into his body.

He looked up and watched his feelings reflected in a pair of sable eyes. Dietrich's lean face was tight with pleasure so intense it almost looked like pain, with the need to thrust, with the desire to make it last. Troy reached up, stroked the stubbled cheek.

"I love you, Hans," he said hoarsely.

Dietrich leaned down, kissed him, tongue rubbing against Troy's own. Two groans filled the room. Troy broke the kiss with a hard shove back, impaling himself solidly on Dietrich cock.

"Yes," Dietrich hissed. "Want you... want to take you with me..."

"Do it," Troy demanded, raising his legs until they almost touched his shoulders.

"Always giving orders," Dietrich complained, thrusting hard and fast. The wet sound of flesh sliding together filled the room.

Any reply Troy might have had was lost under the torrent of erotic sensations that ripped through him. His eyes slipped closed as he gave himself to the feelings, as he let the passion carry him to a place without time or reality. Existence narrowed down to where he was joined to Dietrich, to the joining that went beyond the physical, to the perfection of having found his future. Bursts of light and heat danced along his nerves. Somewhere far away he heard Dietrich mumbling in German, a soft litany of love and lust, of promise and desire. The words heated his blood to the boiling point, and he was suspended there for an instant, caught between heat and ice. Then the firestorm swept over him.

"Hans!" he sobbed, coming long and hard, splattering white fluid over Dietrich's tight hand.

Dietrich drove into him, twisting, crying out. Troy forced his eyes open, entranced as he watched Dietrich. Once before, Troy had watched the man give himself to passion. From that moment, he had known it was a sight he would never tire of watching, or of causing. Dietrich's head was back, his mouth tight, solid muscles locked under the glistening gold skin, groaning as he spilled his offering into Troy's body. Troy closed his eyes again, concentrating on the feeling of Dietrich's cock, of the soft warmth that filled him, of the weight on his legs and the whispered words that Dietrich was still uttering, some in German, some in English.

A long minute went by before he looked up at his lover. Dietrich's head was down, his whole body trembling with release. Sensing Troy's gaze, the dark eyes met his, and Troy saw the sparkle of unshed tears in the fathomless deeps. He didn't offer any words, knowing there was nothing he could say to the proud German that wouldn't embarrass him. Reaching up, he ran his hand through the thick hair, brushed lightly over the full lips.

"Come here."

Dietrich slipped off him and Troy slowly lowered his legs, wincing as he did. Immediately strong hands starting rubbing his thighs.

"Roll over," Dietrich said. "I will rub your back. I don't want you to be stiff." Troy gave him a leer and Dietrich amended quickly, "At least not there."

"I'm okay," Troy assured him. "Lie down and kiss me."

This time Dietrich didn't protest the order, doing it with pleasure. When the kiss broke, he laid his head on Troy's shoulder, wrapping long arms around him. They lay together for a long time, watching the rain run down the window, listening to the distant thunder.

"It won't be easy," Dietrich said suddenly.

Troy nodded. "I know."

"I am glad you had your brother to talk to," Dietrich said. "Not having anyone to trust--that is one of the hardest parts."

A smile touched Troy's mouth. "Well, there was always Moffitt." He counted off the seconds.

"Moffitt! Sergea... Moffitt knows about us?" Dietrich demanded, his tone accusing Troy of talking.

Troy rolled over, pushing up on his elbows. "Yeah. It seems someone couldn't keep his hands to himself during our escape from Berlin."

Dietrich straightened, understanding what had happened. Troy smiled again; only Dietrich could come to attention while lying down. "From your reaction," Dietrich surmised, "he took it well."

Kissing lightly down Dietrich's chest, Troy said, "Surprised the hell out of me, but yeah, he thought it was a good idea. Thought we'd keep each other out of trouble."

That made Dietrich smile. "I am grateful he was accepting, but I have a feeling his belief may have been misplaced." Troy started to added something, but Dietrich laid an open palm on his cheek. Very softly, he said, "I am even more grateful that you love me."

Troy proved the statement by kissing him slowly, sensously. When he pulled back, he was smiling. "Know what I'm most grateful for?"

The light in Dietrich's eyes let Troy know he suspected a setup. "What?"

"That in 1942, we were both pretty lousy shots."

They melted back into the easy embrace, both laughing.

THE END

---

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