Winters/Nixon Fic: "Too Far Along," 4/4
Title: Too Far Along, 4/4
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Dick Winters/Lewis Nixon, Eugene Roe, Harry Welsh, Don Malarkey, Colonel Sink, Floyd Talbert, George Luz, Ronald Speirs, Antonio Garcia, Bull Randleman, Johnny Martin, Shifty Powers, Babe Heffron, Hank Jones, David Webster, et al.
Word Count: 4,744 (14,777 total)
Notes: This is a reimagining of "The Last Patrol." Sequel to A Few Degrees Warmer. Lots of love to fenwic for endless support and beta skills, and to everyone who has read and commented. :)
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
All Dick wants to do is hold Lew close and breathe him in, warm and alive, but the advancing gunfire outside and the shouts of his men spur him into action. Stepping over the bodies of the bastards who’d tortured Lew, Dick half carries him out of the room. Every movement must be agony on Lew’s slashed and salted feet, but he keeps up valiantly.
Speirs, Luz, Webster and Talbert race ahead of them downstairs to the living room to smash the windows and return fire on the nearing Germans. Dick sets Lew down on the bottom stair and lifts a canteen to his lips. Lew coughs and chokes, but drinks desperately.
Speirs glances over. “Got them pinned down to the trees on the east side. Martin and the others should be flanking up the right any minute now.” His gaze flicks down to Lew. “How is he?”
“Never better,” Lew replies, swiping at the blood that's dripped into his beard. “Good to see you crazy sons of bitches.”
The men grin, and Luz calls back, “Good to see you, sir.”
Despite his bravado, Lew leans heavily against Dick’s leg where Dick stands beside him. When Dick moves to take his coat off, he realizes he’s not wearing it. Randleman’s already doffed his and hands it over before he and Heffron join the others by the windows. Dick wraps the coat around Lew’s battered body, gently putting his arms through the long sleeves.
When he picks up Lew’s left hand, a strangled cry escapes Lew’s throat. Dick peers closely in the dark, his stomach churning as he makes out the broken and swollen fingers. Lew tries to smile. “First day they gave me a pen and paper and told me to give them all the codes I know. Used my left hand so they’d break that first when they realized the lyrics to ‘Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy’ aren’t good for anything but cutting a rug.”
The urge to kiss him is fierce, but as the gunfire outside increases, Dick forces himself to stay focused. He finishes getting the coat on Lew as Speirs barks at the others to get ready to run. “Rest of the squad’s laying down suppressive fire. Moving out!”
Randleman heaves Lew over his shoulder before they race out of the farmhouse and back the way they came. Bullets whiz overhead and all around in the cacophony of gunfire, shattering glass and strident German voices as Martin and the other men trade gunfire with the enemy. Dick keeps a slower pace with Bull, who rumbles steadily across the clearing carrying Lew.
The clouds remain thick overhead, and they get lucky - returning to the forest without taking a hit. The Germans will surely pursue, and they run on as Martin and the others catch up, darting around trees as they head back to the river. Lew doesn’t make a sound on Bull’s back, and Dick thinks he’s likely lost consciousness, which is for the best.
Bull breathes heavily but never wavers, his grip on Lew unshakeable. The men lob grenades behind them, keeping their pursuers at a disadvantage. The dark forest seems unending as they push on, outdistancing the Germans who never had to run Currahee.
The river appears suddenly, and Garcia is ready with the boats. They pile on, Dick throwing himself in after Bull and Lew, reaching up for the rope. The enemy charges toward them, still unseen, and as the boats clear the riverbank, covering fire erupts from the Allied side, a machine gun roaring. Dick and Bull yank on the rope, Lew fighting for consciousness between them.
They’re more than halfway across when the Germans return fire, and the only sound Bull makes as a bullet tears into him is a surprised grunt. He cradles his injured arm to his chest, struggling to keep his balance, and Dick makes a desperate grab for Lew as they all topple over into the frigid river.
The shock of the icy water seizes Dick’s muscles, and he clings to Lew as they plummet under the surface. He kicks his legs, but Lew thrashes in his arms, now fully awake and panicking. They sink as they struggle, Dick’s lungs burning as his instincts cry out for him to let go and save himself.
He clutches Lew tighter, fighting to get them to the surface. Bull’s big coat is a leaden weight, and Dick’s boots are anchors on his feet. His heart hammers painfully against his ribs as the air in his lungs runs out, the current conspiring to hold them under as Lew suddenly goes still.
Then strong hands haul them up, and Dick gasps as he emerges, sucking in sweet oxygen. It’s somehow Malarkey who has a firm grip on him, and Wynn drags a sputtering Lew toward the shore. “Bull!” Dick’s voice is hoarse, and he swallows water as he turns frantically, scanning the water, bullets still shrieking overhead.
“They got ’im,” Malarkey shouts, tugging Dick onto the riverbank.
The others scramble up the embankment, and Dick can make out Lipton and Grant manning a machine gun, providing covering fire. Martin and Christenson drag Bull’s bulky frame to safety, and Dick grasps one of Lew’s arms as Speirs dives back down to the river’s edge to help haul them up.
They pull back away from the river and out of range. Of course, Roe is waiting among the trees and not in Haguenau as ordered, and he’s already tearing open Bull’s shirt. Lew shakes in the snow, barely awake, and Dick drops to his knees by his side. He wants to take Lew in his arms and carry him to safety, but he’s trembling, too, body rigid with cold.
Tail wagging, Trigger appears at Dick’s side to lick his face. “Hi, boy.” Dick flexes his frozen fingers and scratches the dog’s back.
Roe pours sulfa on Bull’s wound, ignoring Bull’s insistence that he’s fine. He glances over at Lew and barks, “Get him on the stretcher. Gotta get you all back to town.”
Liebgott and Jones rush the stretcher over, nudging Dick and Malarkey out of the way.
Dick tears his focus away from Lew. “You’re supposed to be resting, Sergeant.”
Malarkey’s teeth chatter. “And let you boys have all the fun? Nah. Lip was feeling better, and we all thought it was a nice night for a walk. Besides, would be a shame to go to all this trouble to rescue Nixon just to see him drown.”
It feels woefully inadequate, but all Dick can say is, “Thank you.”
Roe crouches by Lew as the others roll him onto the stretcher. “Any major wounds?” He peels off the sodden coat and runs his hands over Lew’s bruised and torn flesh. When he seems satisfied, he nods to the men. “All of you who were in the water, get your coats and shirts off, wrap them around your waist, and huddle up with someone dry as we go.”
Liebgott and Webster carry the stretcher, and Speirs supports Bull as they double time it back to Haguenau. Lipton’s still wracked by coughs, but he yanks Dick to his side, arm firm around Dick’s bare back as they jog behind the stretcher. “Good thing you don’t listen to orders, Lip,” Dick mutters with a shaky smile.
“Thought you might need some support with the withdrawal, sir.”
“Didn’t want to bring anyone else into it. Already enough men risking their lives and disobeying the colonel.”
“Well, in for a penny….”
Eyes on the stretcher ahead, Dick nods his agreement.
*
Haguenau is eerily silent, and Dick wonders when the Germans will retaliate. The Gestapo doesn’t take defeat lightly. The men scatter back to their bunks to clean up and get warm, and Dick dismisses Webster and Liebgott after they carry Lew to Dick’s room, since another officer is moving into Lew’s unused billet in the morning.
Roe strips off Lew’s sodden trousers and shorts with economical movements, and Dick takes a deep breath as he sees the bruises and marks on Lew’s body in the bright light of the lamp by the bed. Dick wraps his arms around his stomach, and Roe glances at him. “You need to wash your face and get into a dry uniform.”
Dick nods, but doesn’t move from Lew’s side. Lipton, still hovering, puts a firm hand on Dick’s shoulder and leads him to the washstand. “It’ll only take a minute. Can’t let anyone see you with grease on your face, Captain.”
Acquiescing, Dick closes his eyes while Lipton scrubs his face with a wet towel. He keeps his gaze on Lew as he quickly pulls on dry ODs, and clears his throat before addressing Lipton. “Thank you for your service tonight. Now get some rest. We have a big morning ahead of us.”
Lipton nods. “Yes, sir.” His eyes flick over to Lew, who mumbles, eyes closed, as Roe gently prods him. “Good to have you both back in one piece.”
Dick closes the door behind Lipton, and then it’s just the three of them. He kneels beside the bed, and Lew’s eyes open as he speaks, his voice raw. “Sorry.”
Blinking in surprise, Dick shakes his head. “For what?”
“Getting caught. Almost drowning you. Lot of things.”
“Not your fault, Nix.” Dick longs to touch him, and he curls his fingers into fists on the side of the mattress. He can’t stop a frustrated sigh.
“You better take his hand.” Roe barely glances up from examining Lew’s brutalized feet. “Hold on real tight, ’cause there’s a lotta hurt here.”
It’s uncanny, the way Roe seems to read people’s minds sometimes. Dick smoothes his palm over Lew’s head, brushing back his thick hair. With his other hand, he squeezes Lew’s unbroken fingers. He supposes it’s nothing out of the ordinary for Roe - when men are injured or dying, their friends comfort them.
Lew grips his hand. “Barely let me sleep.” His voice is so hoarse it sounds painful.
“Shh. It’s all right.”
“But when I did, I dreamt you were there. Didn’t think you really would be. Didn’t think you could be.”
“Who’s gonna drink the last bottle of Vat 69 in my footlocker? Been lugging it around for months.”
Lew tries to laugh, but grimaces instead. “I thought I might never see you again.”
“I’m right here.” He wants to kiss him so badly, and maybe Doc wouldn’t care, but Dick resists. “You should know that we weren’t exactly following orders tonight. Sink wanted a prisoner snatch, and we had our own idea.”
Lew reaches up and touches Dick’s cheek. He frowns like he’s remembering something. “That’s why you had to wash your face.”
“Yeah. So just play along.”
“You all did that for me?”
Dick just smiles and gives him a look that says Lew should know better than even ask. Lew’s eyes shine, and he closes them as Roe moves to the other side of the bed. He prods Lew’s ribcage gently.
“A couple feel broken.” The bruises and cuts on Lew’s torso are accompanied by patches of blackened skin, and Roe points to one area on Lew’s stomach. “How’d they do that?”
“Clever bastards had a little machine. Electric. Metal ends. They were gonna use it on my balls next.”
Dick thinks for a moment that he’s joking, but realizes with a sickening lurch that he’s not. Roe quickly gives Lew’s groin a once over, then covers his lower half with a blanket. To Dick, he says, “We should get him to the hospital. Feet need sewin’ up, ribs need bindin’, fingers settin’. All these wounds cleaned and bandaged.”
Lew winces as he shakes his head. “I like it here. You can do all that, Doc.”
“Well, I can, but a doctor’ll do it better.”
“No. I want you.”
Dick nods in agreement. “He’s in good hands with you, Eugene.”
“All right. Gonna give you some morphine now, Captain. You need the sleep.”
Lew gazes at Dick as Roe injects the syrette. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?”
“I’ll be right here, Nix.” He squeezes his hand.
It’s only a few seconds before Lew goes under, lips parted, body still. Roe sets out his equipment at the foot of the bed and threads a needle. “Haven’t done many stitches before.”
“Can I help?”
“Need some water. Gotta make sure all the salt’s washed out of the wounds.”
Dick fills a basin and works quietly beside Roe, rinsing the gashes on the soles of Lew’s feet. As Roe begins stitching, voices murmur outside the door. Dick edges it open to find Easy men crowded into the hallway. Powers speaks up. “How’s he doing, sir?”
“He’ll be just fine. You all need to get to your racks.” He focuses on Bull, who leans against the wall. “Especially you, Sergeant. Did Spina examine your wound?”
Bull nods. “Just a scratch.”
“You should still be resting,” Martin mutters.
“You should all be resting. Remember, we’re moving off the line in the morning, boys. Need to look sharp. A long day of travel’s in store. I’ll pass on your regards to Captain Nixon.”
They shuffle off, and Dick leans against the door once he’s closed it. “Guess I should send a message to Colonel Sink. Tell him where Lew is, since I’m sure he’ll hear about it as soon as he wakes up.”
“No need, really.” Roe narrows his eyes in concentration as he stitches Lew’s feet. “He’ll come here first thing, I expect. If we’re ever lookin’ for one of you, just have to find the other, and there you’ll be. Been like that since Toccoa.”
He supposes it has. “Do you think….” He just got Lew back, and the thought that they could face a new threat from their own ranks makes Dick swallow hard, fear prickling his skin. “Do they know?”
Roe looks at him then. “No, don’t expect so. Think I see things a little more clearly than most.”
“Why is that, Eugene?”
He goes back to work, knotting off a row of neat stitches. “I have an uncle. Sid. Went away to New Orleans when I was thirteen. He and his pal Joey used to take me fishin’ out on the bayou. We’d sit out there for hours in the mornings, then fry up some of what we caught. Take my momma the rest. They were real good to me, all my life.” He goes quiet for a few moments before continuing. “One night there was a disturbance; lotta hollerin’. Bunch of men all worked up into a kind of rage I didn’t know existed.”
Dick’s breath is lodged in his throat. He waits for Roe to continue.
“Gators probably got Joey if there was anythin’ left of him. Daddy convinced them to spare Uncle Sid, but told him to never even dream of coming home again.” He snips another length of thread and starts on another gash as Lew sleeps on, undisturbed. “All this death; I watch these boys suffer and bleed. Day in, day out. The way I see it, there’s nuthin’ wrong with a little comfort.”
Swallowing hard, Dick takes a moment to speak. “I’m glad to know you, Gene.”
Roe looks at him with those dark, fathomless eyes. “I’m gonna go to New Orleans if I make it back. Look Uncle Sid up. Shoulda done it years ago.”
“You’ll make it back.”
Roe’s lips twitch in a smile. “Hope so, Captain.” He finishes one of Lew’s feet and goes to work on the other. “Need some fresh water.”
Dick rinses out the bowl and pours another from the jug. As Roe stitches, Dick kneels at Lew’s side, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest.
*
“Well, I’ll be damned. Look what the cat dragged in.”
It’s zero-seven-hundred, and Colonel Sink stands in the doorway of Dick’s room, Speirs behind him. On the bed, Lew’s groggy, but he attempts a salute, which makes Sink bark out a laugh. “Good to see you, Captain Nixon. At ease.”
Dick stands beside the bed. “Sir, the patrol encountered-”
Sink waves his hand. “No need, Dick. Captain Speirs here filled me in. He’s already written up an excellent report. Quick with the paperwork, unlike someone else I know.”
They all chuckle, and Dick clasps his hands behind his back to hide his sweaty palms.
Sink regards him evenly. “Hell of a lucky coincidence, that patrol stumbling across Captain Nixon.”
“Yes, sir.” Dick’s never been a good liar, but he holds Sink’s gaze steadily.
Sink nods and goes to the other side of the bed, where he gives Lew’s shoulder a squeeze. “Good to see you again, son. We’ll talk more when you can join us in Germany.” He glances at Dick. “Shouldn’t Captain Nixon be in the hospital?”
“Actually, sir, he’s going to ship out with us to Stürzelberg. He’s been cleared for travel.”
“Has he indeed?”
Roe speaks up from the back of the room. “Yes, sir.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it. We’ll be moving out at thirteen-hundred hours. In the meantime, I believe you’ve got a battlefield commission to formally present to Mr. Lipton.” Sink digs in his pocket, pulling out a small box. “And I’ve got a little something here for you, Dick.”
Dick takes the proffered box, smiling when he sees the oak leaves inside. “Thank you, Colonel.”
Sink salutes and takes his leave, Speirs following suit and shooting a small, closed-mouth smile over his shoulder. Dick sends Roe off, but he’s sure Roe will check up on Bull and the others, and will be back sooner rather than later - no matter how much rest Dick orders him to get.
“Alone at last. And conscious.” Lew’s still sleepy and a bit dazed, but he smiles. “Barely.”
Kneeling at his side once more, Dick is finally able to lean over and press their lips together softly. But he has to take a shaky breath, and he sits back on his heels. “Nix, I….”
Lew reaches up with his right hand, brushing Dick’s lips with his fingertips. “Remember the day you volunteered for the paratroopers?”
“Yeah, of course. It was the same day you volunteered.”
“Told myself that if anyone would get me through the war, it would be Richard Winters.”
“Lew, I couldn’t do it without you.” He swallows thickly. “Can’t.”
Thankfully they hear the eager, uneven footsteps thumping in the hall, and when Harry bursts through the door, Dick’s safely perched on a wooden chair in the corner, retying his boots. Harry grins. “Looks like I got back just in time, huh?”
Lew and Dick share a smile, and welcome their friend home.
*
Lew winces as he settles on the four-poster bed, propped up to a half-sitting position with pillows. “Well, if there’s one thing Germany has going for it, it’s the accommodations. These Nazis have style.”
The winding, roundabout journey to Stürzelberg took three days. Lew slept through the vast majority of it, stretched out in the back seat of Dick’s jeep, Roe riding shotgun. Dick leans Lew’s crutches against the wall before pouring a tumbler of brandy. “Sorry. No whiskey downstairs.” Lew had gifted his last bottle to Speirs and the men who rescued him.
“This is fine.”
Frowning, Dick presses the back of his hand against Lew’s forehead.
Lew laughs and turns his head. “I’m all right.”
“Hungry?”
“No.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Think you’re up for a sponge bath, Nurse Winters?”
“If the patient promises to cooperate.”
“When have I ever been uncooperative?
Dick snorts. “Do you want that list alphabetically, or by date?”
He calls downstairs for his orderly, dismissing the young man after he promptly brings up soap and a basin of warm water. Dick drags a chair over to the side of the bed and helps Lew out of his uniform. At the sight of the injuries the Gestapo inflicted, he has to swallow down a swell of rage.
“I’m okay, you know.” Lew watches him steadily.
“But if we hadn’t been able to get to you…if Jones hadn’t gotten that intel. When I think about what would have happened; what would still be happening….” His stomach churns.
“I’m here now. You found me.” He grins. “My hero.”
Scoffing, Dick picks up the basin. He washes him carefully with a small cloth, mindful of Lew’s injuries and the bandages wrapped around his broken ribs. It’s heady, finally being alone. Being so close to Lew, breathing him in, touching him. As heat pools in his belly, Dick chides himself sternly to get under control. Nix is in no condition. Yet despite the bruises and healing wounds, he can’t help but admire Lew’s body. Desire it.
Lew runs a hand over his beard. “You have your razor handy?”
Dick nods, breathing deeply as he thinks of Bastogne, and Lew’s patient and tender attention. He retrieves his shaving kit and soaps Lew’s face before gliding the blade over his cheeks. It’s been months since Dick’s seen him clean shaven, and it takes years off his face. He caresses Lew’s soft cheek, wanting him with a powerful hunger.
“Well, I’m glad I haven’t lost my touch.” Lew grins slyly as he looks down at the bulge in Dick’s trousers.
Dick’s cheeks flame and he stands quickly, the water sloshing over the sides of the bowl. “Sorry.”
“Hey, hey, don’t be sorry.” Lew nods toward the expanse of bed to his right. “C’mere.”
After cleaning the razor and squeezing out the cloth, Dick removes his boots and carefully settles onto the bed beside Lew. He pats Lew’s chest and neck dry with a towel. “I shouldn’t be thinking like that. You’re hurt.”
“I’m okay, Dick. It helps, having you close. Come on, lie down with me.”
Dick gingerly leans beside him against the tasseled pillows. Lew rests his uninjured hand on Dick’s thigh. He’s still weak, but he caresses Dick lightly. “There were a few moments there when….” He trails off.
“What?”
“When I thought I was going to die without ever seeing you come.”
Dick inhales sharply, heat surging in his veins. He tries to reply, but nothing comes out except a whimper. His cock tents his trousers.
“Let me see you.”
He swallows thickly. “Nix, you need to rest.”
“It’ll make me feel better. I promise.”
Dick’s fingers ache to wrap around his length and relieve the pressure. Lew is naked beside him, and Dick’s still in his uniform, and there’s something erotic about it that he can’t explain. He rubs the heel of his hand against his straining cock.
A moan escapes his lips, and Lew’s whisper is hot on his ear. “Show me.”
Before he can think better of it, Dick unbuckles his belt and opens his trousers. He pulls his cock out, groaning softly as he touches himself. Precome is already leaking from the tip, and he swipes his thumb over it with a shudder. Lew takes Dick’s left hand, threading their fingers together as he watches avidly.
Panting, squeezing Lew’s hand, Dick arches his hips up, grasping his cock with firm strokes. He makes needy little noises in the back of his throat and bends his knees to get more leverage.
Lew’s voice reverberates up Dick’s spine. “One day, I’m gonna make you scream, Richard Winters. Make you curse like a sailor.”
Dick groans, biting his lip as the pleasure builds. Harry is right next door, and the headboard is swaying against the wall as he works his cock. “Nix….” He meets Lew’s dark gaze beside him on the pillows.
“You ever think about fucking me? Being in me? Because I think about it. Have for a long time now. I think about fucking you. How tight you’ll be, and how I’ll come inside you-”
With a gasp, Dick shoots over his hand, splashing his shirt as he shakes, his whole body releasing as pleasure crashes over him. He milks himself, little aftershocks flickering through him. His legs flop down to the mattress, and he breathes deeply.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Lew smirks, and Dick laughs softly. He’s about to wipe his hand off when Lew stops him. “Let me.”
After a moment of confusion, Dick understands and lifts his hand to Lew’s mouth, slipping a sticky finger inside. Lew licks him clean, one finger at a time, and Dick thinks of Bastogne and smiles. “You knew exactly what you were doing that morning.”
“Well, I had a little idea. Never thought you’d go for it. For me. Thought I was being crazy.”
Dick kisses him gently. “Guess we’re both crazy.”
Lew nods toward his crotch. “Looks like there’s life in the old boy yet. I’ll be up and about in no time.”
Reaching down, Dick takes Lew in hand. It’s the first time he’s ever touched another man like this, so he just strokes the way he likes it himself. Lew leans into him, murmuring. “Yes. Mmm. You know those boys at school I told you about? That was nothing. Kid stuff. No girls around, so we made do. With you, it’s…oh, Jesus.” His cock throbs in Dick’s hand. “I can’t explain it. Never thought I’d want a man like this.” His breath catches. “But I want you. Want it all.”
Feeling bold, Dick sucks Lew’s earlobe. “Should I use my mouth?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, is that a trick question?”
He shimmies down, careful not to jostle Lew. Holding the base of Lew’s cock, he licks up and down the length before taking it between his lips. The taste and smell fills his senses and his own spent cock twitches. Dick’s not exactly sure what he’s doing, but Lew is hot and swollen in his mouth, moaning above him, so he must be doing something right.
Tongue swirling, he sucks and licks, moving up and down Lew’s shaft. Dipping his head lower, he laps at Lew’s balls, and Lew gasps, fingers grasping for Dick’s head. “So good,” he mutters.
Dick sucks him deeply again, and Lew warns him a moment before his hot seed fills Dick’s mouth. Dick swallows as fast as he can, some of it dripping from his lips. It’s salty and he can’t think of anything to compare it to, but he knows he wants more.
Lew’s already sounding sleepy. “Definitely feel better.” He tugs on Dick’s hair, and Dick stretches out beside him, kissing him gently. “Thank you,” Lew murmurs. He gazes seriously, cupping Dick’s cheek. “Thank you.”
Dick knows he’s talking about more than sex. He kisses Lew again and tucks him in under the thick duvet. The bed is soft, and they sink into it as Lew drifts off. For a moment, Dick allows himself a fantasy that the bed they’re in is their own. That they’re home in America, far away from any war.
Later, he fixes his uniform in front of a cheval glass in the corner of the bedroom, buckling his belt and dabbing at the stains on his shirt. He gazes at his own reflection and straightens his tie, shoulders back. Beyond him, he can see Lew sleeping soundly. He feels no shame. No regret.
He feels like more of a man than he ever has firing his rifle.
*
At zero-three-hundred, Lew wakes, shifting his limbs heavily and moaning. Dick sits beside him atop the blankets, leaning back against the headboard. He’s fully dressed but for his boots, because privacy in the army is fleeting, lock on the door or not.
Dick brushes Lew’s hair back from his forehead, tracing the neat line of stitches there. He’d opened the heavy drapes after turning off the light, and the moon streams in through the gauzy curtains left underneath.
Blinking up at him, Lew’s lips quirk up in a ghost of a smile. His voice is hoarse. “Know what else I thought I’d die without doing?”
Dick puts his arm behind Lew’s shoulders and helps him sit up a bit to sip a glass of water. “What’s that, Nix?”
“Telling you I love you. That I don’t care if it’s wrong. Because I feel so damn happy when I’m with you, Dick. Always have.”
Then he’s back under, head resting on Dick’s shoulder as sleep claims him. When Dick can breathe again, he wants more than anything to wake Lew and tell him he feels the same, and always will. But Lew needs his rest.
Dick closes his eyes, and promises God and himself to tell him every day.
fin
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Dick Winters/Lewis Nixon, Eugene Roe, Harry Welsh, Don Malarkey, Colonel Sink, Floyd Talbert, George Luz, Ronald Speirs, Antonio Garcia, Bull Randleman, Johnny Martin, Shifty Powers, Babe Heffron, Hank Jones, David Webster, et al.
Word Count: 4,744 (14,777 total)
Notes: This is a reimagining of "The Last Patrol." Sequel to A Few Degrees Warmer. Lots of love to fenwic for endless support and beta skills, and to everyone who has read and commented. :)
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
All Dick wants to do is hold Lew close and breathe him in, warm and alive, but the advancing gunfire outside and the shouts of his men spur him into action. Stepping over the bodies of the bastards who’d tortured Lew, Dick half carries him out of the room. Every movement must be agony on Lew’s slashed and salted feet, but he keeps up valiantly.
Speirs, Luz, Webster and Talbert race ahead of them downstairs to the living room to smash the windows and return fire on the nearing Germans. Dick sets Lew down on the bottom stair and lifts a canteen to his lips. Lew coughs and chokes, but drinks desperately.
Speirs glances over. “Got them pinned down to the trees on the east side. Martin and the others should be flanking up the right any minute now.” His gaze flicks down to Lew. “How is he?”
“Never better,” Lew replies, swiping at the blood that's dripped into his beard. “Good to see you crazy sons of bitches.”
The men grin, and Luz calls back, “Good to see you, sir.”
Despite his bravado, Lew leans heavily against Dick’s leg where Dick stands beside him. When Dick moves to take his coat off, he realizes he’s not wearing it. Randleman’s already doffed his and hands it over before he and Heffron join the others by the windows. Dick wraps the coat around Lew’s battered body, gently putting his arms through the long sleeves.
When he picks up Lew’s left hand, a strangled cry escapes Lew’s throat. Dick peers closely in the dark, his stomach churning as he makes out the broken and swollen fingers. Lew tries to smile. “First day they gave me a pen and paper and told me to give them all the codes I know. Used my left hand so they’d break that first when they realized the lyrics to ‘Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy’ aren’t good for anything but cutting a rug.”
The urge to kiss him is fierce, but as the gunfire outside increases, Dick forces himself to stay focused. He finishes getting the coat on Lew as Speirs barks at the others to get ready to run. “Rest of the squad’s laying down suppressive fire. Moving out!”
Randleman heaves Lew over his shoulder before they race out of the farmhouse and back the way they came. Bullets whiz overhead and all around in the cacophony of gunfire, shattering glass and strident German voices as Martin and the other men trade gunfire with the enemy. Dick keeps a slower pace with Bull, who rumbles steadily across the clearing carrying Lew.
The clouds remain thick overhead, and they get lucky - returning to the forest without taking a hit. The Germans will surely pursue, and they run on as Martin and the others catch up, darting around trees as they head back to the river. Lew doesn’t make a sound on Bull’s back, and Dick thinks he’s likely lost consciousness, which is for the best.
Bull breathes heavily but never wavers, his grip on Lew unshakeable. The men lob grenades behind them, keeping their pursuers at a disadvantage. The dark forest seems unending as they push on, outdistancing the Germans who never had to run Currahee.
The river appears suddenly, and Garcia is ready with the boats. They pile on, Dick throwing himself in after Bull and Lew, reaching up for the rope. The enemy charges toward them, still unseen, and as the boats clear the riverbank, covering fire erupts from the Allied side, a machine gun roaring. Dick and Bull yank on the rope, Lew fighting for consciousness between them.
They’re more than halfway across when the Germans return fire, and the only sound Bull makes as a bullet tears into him is a surprised grunt. He cradles his injured arm to his chest, struggling to keep his balance, and Dick makes a desperate grab for Lew as they all topple over into the frigid river.
The shock of the icy water seizes Dick’s muscles, and he clings to Lew as they plummet under the surface. He kicks his legs, but Lew thrashes in his arms, now fully awake and panicking. They sink as they struggle, Dick’s lungs burning as his instincts cry out for him to let go and save himself.
He clutches Lew tighter, fighting to get them to the surface. Bull’s big coat is a leaden weight, and Dick’s boots are anchors on his feet. His heart hammers painfully against his ribs as the air in his lungs runs out, the current conspiring to hold them under as Lew suddenly goes still.
Then strong hands haul them up, and Dick gasps as he emerges, sucking in sweet oxygen. It’s somehow Malarkey who has a firm grip on him, and Wynn drags a sputtering Lew toward the shore. “Bull!” Dick’s voice is hoarse, and he swallows water as he turns frantically, scanning the water, bullets still shrieking overhead.
“They got ’im,” Malarkey shouts, tugging Dick onto the riverbank.
The others scramble up the embankment, and Dick can make out Lipton and Grant manning a machine gun, providing covering fire. Martin and Christenson drag Bull’s bulky frame to safety, and Dick grasps one of Lew’s arms as Speirs dives back down to the river’s edge to help haul them up.
They pull back away from the river and out of range. Of course, Roe is waiting among the trees and not in Haguenau as ordered, and he’s already tearing open Bull’s shirt. Lew shakes in the snow, barely awake, and Dick drops to his knees by his side. He wants to take Lew in his arms and carry him to safety, but he’s trembling, too, body rigid with cold.
Tail wagging, Trigger appears at Dick’s side to lick his face. “Hi, boy.” Dick flexes his frozen fingers and scratches the dog’s back.
Roe pours sulfa on Bull’s wound, ignoring Bull’s insistence that he’s fine. He glances over at Lew and barks, “Get him on the stretcher. Gotta get you all back to town.”
Liebgott and Jones rush the stretcher over, nudging Dick and Malarkey out of the way.
Dick tears his focus away from Lew. “You’re supposed to be resting, Sergeant.”
Malarkey’s teeth chatter. “And let you boys have all the fun? Nah. Lip was feeling better, and we all thought it was a nice night for a walk. Besides, would be a shame to go to all this trouble to rescue Nixon just to see him drown.”
It feels woefully inadequate, but all Dick can say is, “Thank you.”
Roe crouches by Lew as the others roll him onto the stretcher. “Any major wounds?” He peels off the sodden coat and runs his hands over Lew’s bruised and torn flesh. When he seems satisfied, he nods to the men. “All of you who were in the water, get your coats and shirts off, wrap them around your waist, and huddle up with someone dry as we go.”
Liebgott and Webster carry the stretcher, and Speirs supports Bull as they double time it back to Haguenau. Lipton’s still wracked by coughs, but he yanks Dick to his side, arm firm around Dick’s bare back as they jog behind the stretcher. “Good thing you don’t listen to orders, Lip,” Dick mutters with a shaky smile.
“Thought you might need some support with the withdrawal, sir.”
“Didn’t want to bring anyone else into it. Already enough men risking their lives and disobeying the colonel.”
“Well, in for a penny….”
Eyes on the stretcher ahead, Dick nods his agreement.
*
Haguenau is eerily silent, and Dick wonders when the Germans will retaliate. The Gestapo doesn’t take defeat lightly. The men scatter back to their bunks to clean up and get warm, and Dick dismisses Webster and Liebgott after they carry Lew to Dick’s room, since another officer is moving into Lew’s unused billet in the morning.
Roe strips off Lew’s sodden trousers and shorts with economical movements, and Dick takes a deep breath as he sees the bruises and marks on Lew’s body in the bright light of the lamp by the bed. Dick wraps his arms around his stomach, and Roe glances at him. “You need to wash your face and get into a dry uniform.”
Dick nods, but doesn’t move from Lew’s side. Lipton, still hovering, puts a firm hand on Dick’s shoulder and leads him to the washstand. “It’ll only take a minute. Can’t let anyone see you with grease on your face, Captain.”
Acquiescing, Dick closes his eyes while Lipton scrubs his face with a wet towel. He keeps his gaze on Lew as he quickly pulls on dry ODs, and clears his throat before addressing Lipton. “Thank you for your service tonight. Now get some rest. We have a big morning ahead of us.”
Lipton nods. “Yes, sir.” His eyes flick over to Lew, who mumbles, eyes closed, as Roe gently prods him. “Good to have you both back in one piece.”
Dick closes the door behind Lipton, and then it’s just the three of them. He kneels beside the bed, and Lew’s eyes open as he speaks, his voice raw. “Sorry.”
Blinking in surprise, Dick shakes his head. “For what?”
“Getting caught. Almost drowning you. Lot of things.”
“Not your fault, Nix.” Dick longs to touch him, and he curls his fingers into fists on the side of the mattress. He can’t stop a frustrated sigh.
“You better take his hand.” Roe barely glances up from examining Lew’s brutalized feet. “Hold on real tight, ’cause there’s a lotta hurt here.”
It’s uncanny, the way Roe seems to read people’s minds sometimes. Dick smoothes his palm over Lew’s head, brushing back his thick hair. With his other hand, he squeezes Lew’s unbroken fingers. He supposes it’s nothing out of the ordinary for Roe - when men are injured or dying, their friends comfort them.
Lew grips his hand. “Barely let me sleep.” His voice is so hoarse it sounds painful.
“Shh. It’s all right.”
“But when I did, I dreamt you were there. Didn’t think you really would be. Didn’t think you could be.”
“Who’s gonna drink the last bottle of Vat 69 in my footlocker? Been lugging it around for months.”
Lew tries to laugh, but grimaces instead. “I thought I might never see you again.”
“I’m right here.” He wants to kiss him so badly, and maybe Doc wouldn’t care, but Dick resists. “You should know that we weren’t exactly following orders tonight. Sink wanted a prisoner snatch, and we had our own idea.”
Lew reaches up and touches Dick’s cheek. He frowns like he’s remembering something. “That’s why you had to wash your face.”
“Yeah. So just play along.”
“You all did that for me?”
Dick just smiles and gives him a look that says Lew should know better than even ask. Lew’s eyes shine, and he closes them as Roe moves to the other side of the bed. He prods Lew’s ribcage gently.
“A couple feel broken.” The bruises and cuts on Lew’s torso are accompanied by patches of blackened skin, and Roe points to one area on Lew’s stomach. “How’d they do that?”
“Clever bastards had a little machine. Electric. Metal ends. They were gonna use it on my balls next.”
Dick thinks for a moment that he’s joking, but realizes with a sickening lurch that he’s not. Roe quickly gives Lew’s groin a once over, then covers his lower half with a blanket. To Dick, he says, “We should get him to the hospital. Feet need sewin’ up, ribs need bindin’, fingers settin’. All these wounds cleaned and bandaged.”
Lew winces as he shakes his head. “I like it here. You can do all that, Doc.”
“Well, I can, but a doctor’ll do it better.”
“No. I want you.”
Dick nods in agreement. “He’s in good hands with you, Eugene.”
“All right. Gonna give you some morphine now, Captain. You need the sleep.”
Lew gazes at Dick as Roe injects the syrette. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?”
“I’ll be right here, Nix.” He squeezes his hand.
It’s only a few seconds before Lew goes under, lips parted, body still. Roe sets out his equipment at the foot of the bed and threads a needle. “Haven’t done many stitches before.”
“Can I help?”
“Need some water. Gotta make sure all the salt’s washed out of the wounds.”
Dick fills a basin and works quietly beside Roe, rinsing the gashes on the soles of Lew’s feet. As Roe begins stitching, voices murmur outside the door. Dick edges it open to find Easy men crowded into the hallway. Powers speaks up. “How’s he doing, sir?”
“He’ll be just fine. You all need to get to your racks.” He focuses on Bull, who leans against the wall. “Especially you, Sergeant. Did Spina examine your wound?”
Bull nods. “Just a scratch.”
“You should still be resting,” Martin mutters.
“You should all be resting. Remember, we’re moving off the line in the morning, boys. Need to look sharp. A long day of travel’s in store. I’ll pass on your regards to Captain Nixon.”
They shuffle off, and Dick leans against the door once he’s closed it. “Guess I should send a message to Colonel Sink. Tell him where Lew is, since I’m sure he’ll hear about it as soon as he wakes up.”
“No need, really.” Roe narrows his eyes in concentration as he stitches Lew’s feet. “He’ll come here first thing, I expect. If we’re ever lookin’ for one of you, just have to find the other, and there you’ll be. Been like that since Toccoa.”
He supposes it has. “Do you think….” He just got Lew back, and the thought that they could face a new threat from their own ranks makes Dick swallow hard, fear prickling his skin. “Do they know?”
Roe looks at him then. “No, don’t expect so. Think I see things a little more clearly than most.”
“Why is that, Eugene?”
He goes back to work, knotting off a row of neat stitches. “I have an uncle. Sid. Went away to New Orleans when I was thirteen. He and his pal Joey used to take me fishin’ out on the bayou. We’d sit out there for hours in the mornings, then fry up some of what we caught. Take my momma the rest. They were real good to me, all my life.” He goes quiet for a few moments before continuing. “One night there was a disturbance; lotta hollerin’. Bunch of men all worked up into a kind of rage I didn’t know existed.”
Dick’s breath is lodged in his throat. He waits for Roe to continue.
“Gators probably got Joey if there was anythin’ left of him. Daddy convinced them to spare Uncle Sid, but told him to never even dream of coming home again.” He snips another length of thread and starts on another gash as Lew sleeps on, undisturbed. “All this death; I watch these boys suffer and bleed. Day in, day out. The way I see it, there’s nuthin’ wrong with a little comfort.”
Swallowing hard, Dick takes a moment to speak. “I’m glad to know you, Gene.”
Roe looks at him with those dark, fathomless eyes. “I’m gonna go to New Orleans if I make it back. Look Uncle Sid up. Shoulda done it years ago.”
“You’ll make it back.”
Roe’s lips twitch in a smile. “Hope so, Captain.” He finishes one of Lew’s feet and goes to work on the other. “Need some fresh water.”
Dick rinses out the bowl and pours another from the jug. As Roe stitches, Dick kneels at Lew’s side, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest.
*
“Well, I’ll be damned. Look what the cat dragged in.”
It’s zero-seven-hundred, and Colonel Sink stands in the doorway of Dick’s room, Speirs behind him. On the bed, Lew’s groggy, but he attempts a salute, which makes Sink bark out a laugh. “Good to see you, Captain Nixon. At ease.”
Dick stands beside the bed. “Sir, the patrol encountered-”
Sink waves his hand. “No need, Dick. Captain Speirs here filled me in. He’s already written up an excellent report. Quick with the paperwork, unlike someone else I know.”
They all chuckle, and Dick clasps his hands behind his back to hide his sweaty palms.
Sink regards him evenly. “Hell of a lucky coincidence, that patrol stumbling across Captain Nixon.”
“Yes, sir.” Dick’s never been a good liar, but he holds Sink’s gaze steadily.
Sink nods and goes to the other side of the bed, where he gives Lew’s shoulder a squeeze. “Good to see you again, son. We’ll talk more when you can join us in Germany.” He glances at Dick. “Shouldn’t Captain Nixon be in the hospital?”
“Actually, sir, he’s going to ship out with us to Stürzelberg. He’s been cleared for travel.”
“Has he indeed?”
Roe speaks up from the back of the room. “Yes, sir.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it. We’ll be moving out at thirteen-hundred hours. In the meantime, I believe you’ve got a battlefield commission to formally present to Mr. Lipton.” Sink digs in his pocket, pulling out a small box. “And I’ve got a little something here for you, Dick.”
Dick takes the proffered box, smiling when he sees the oak leaves inside. “Thank you, Colonel.”
Sink salutes and takes his leave, Speirs following suit and shooting a small, closed-mouth smile over his shoulder. Dick sends Roe off, but he’s sure Roe will check up on Bull and the others, and will be back sooner rather than later - no matter how much rest Dick orders him to get.
“Alone at last. And conscious.” Lew’s still sleepy and a bit dazed, but he smiles. “Barely.”
Kneeling at his side once more, Dick is finally able to lean over and press their lips together softly. But he has to take a shaky breath, and he sits back on his heels. “Nix, I….”
Lew reaches up with his right hand, brushing Dick’s lips with his fingertips. “Remember the day you volunteered for the paratroopers?”
“Yeah, of course. It was the same day you volunteered.”
“Told myself that if anyone would get me through the war, it would be Richard Winters.”
“Lew, I couldn’t do it without you.” He swallows thickly. “Can’t.”
Thankfully they hear the eager, uneven footsteps thumping in the hall, and when Harry bursts through the door, Dick’s safely perched on a wooden chair in the corner, retying his boots. Harry grins. “Looks like I got back just in time, huh?”
Lew and Dick share a smile, and welcome their friend home.
*
Lew winces as he settles on the four-poster bed, propped up to a half-sitting position with pillows. “Well, if there’s one thing Germany has going for it, it’s the accommodations. These Nazis have style.”
The winding, roundabout journey to Stürzelberg took three days. Lew slept through the vast majority of it, stretched out in the back seat of Dick’s jeep, Roe riding shotgun. Dick leans Lew’s crutches against the wall before pouring a tumbler of brandy. “Sorry. No whiskey downstairs.” Lew had gifted his last bottle to Speirs and the men who rescued him.
“This is fine.”
Frowning, Dick presses the back of his hand against Lew’s forehead.
Lew laughs and turns his head. “I’m all right.”
“Hungry?”
“No.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Think you’re up for a sponge bath, Nurse Winters?”
“If the patient promises to cooperate.”
“When have I ever been uncooperative?
Dick snorts. “Do you want that list alphabetically, or by date?”
He calls downstairs for his orderly, dismissing the young man after he promptly brings up soap and a basin of warm water. Dick drags a chair over to the side of the bed and helps Lew out of his uniform. At the sight of the injuries the Gestapo inflicted, he has to swallow down a swell of rage.
“I’m okay, you know.” Lew watches him steadily.
“But if we hadn’t been able to get to you…if Jones hadn’t gotten that intel. When I think about what would have happened; what would still be happening….” His stomach churns.
“I’m here now. You found me.” He grins. “My hero.”
Scoffing, Dick picks up the basin. He washes him carefully with a small cloth, mindful of Lew’s injuries and the bandages wrapped around his broken ribs. It’s heady, finally being alone. Being so close to Lew, breathing him in, touching him. As heat pools in his belly, Dick chides himself sternly to get under control. Nix is in no condition. Yet despite the bruises and healing wounds, he can’t help but admire Lew’s body. Desire it.
Lew runs a hand over his beard. “You have your razor handy?”
Dick nods, breathing deeply as he thinks of Bastogne, and Lew’s patient and tender attention. He retrieves his shaving kit and soaps Lew’s face before gliding the blade over his cheeks. It’s been months since Dick’s seen him clean shaven, and it takes years off his face. He caresses Lew’s soft cheek, wanting him with a powerful hunger.
“Well, I’m glad I haven’t lost my touch.” Lew grins slyly as he looks down at the bulge in Dick’s trousers.
Dick’s cheeks flame and he stands quickly, the water sloshing over the sides of the bowl. “Sorry.”
“Hey, hey, don’t be sorry.” Lew nods toward the expanse of bed to his right. “C’mere.”
After cleaning the razor and squeezing out the cloth, Dick removes his boots and carefully settles onto the bed beside Lew. He pats Lew’s chest and neck dry with a towel. “I shouldn’t be thinking like that. You’re hurt.”
“I’m okay, Dick. It helps, having you close. Come on, lie down with me.”
Dick gingerly leans beside him against the tasseled pillows. Lew rests his uninjured hand on Dick’s thigh. He’s still weak, but he caresses Dick lightly. “There were a few moments there when….” He trails off.
“What?”
“When I thought I was going to die without ever seeing you come.”
Dick inhales sharply, heat surging in his veins. He tries to reply, but nothing comes out except a whimper. His cock tents his trousers.
“Let me see you.”
He swallows thickly. “Nix, you need to rest.”
“It’ll make me feel better. I promise.”
Dick’s fingers ache to wrap around his length and relieve the pressure. Lew is naked beside him, and Dick’s still in his uniform, and there’s something erotic about it that he can’t explain. He rubs the heel of his hand against his straining cock.
A moan escapes his lips, and Lew’s whisper is hot on his ear. “Show me.”
Before he can think better of it, Dick unbuckles his belt and opens his trousers. He pulls his cock out, groaning softly as he touches himself. Precome is already leaking from the tip, and he swipes his thumb over it with a shudder. Lew takes Dick’s left hand, threading their fingers together as he watches avidly.
Panting, squeezing Lew’s hand, Dick arches his hips up, grasping his cock with firm strokes. He makes needy little noises in the back of his throat and bends his knees to get more leverage.
Lew’s voice reverberates up Dick’s spine. “One day, I’m gonna make you scream, Richard Winters. Make you curse like a sailor.”
Dick groans, biting his lip as the pleasure builds. Harry is right next door, and the headboard is swaying against the wall as he works his cock. “Nix….” He meets Lew’s dark gaze beside him on the pillows.
“You ever think about fucking me? Being in me? Because I think about it. Have for a long time now. I think about fucking you. How tight you’ll be, and how I’ll come inside you-”
With a gasp, Dick shoots over his hand, splashing his shirt as he shakes, his whole body releasing as pleasure crashes over him. He milks himself, little aftershocks flickering through him. His legs flop down to the mattress, and he breathes deeply.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Lew smirks, and Dick laughs softly. He’s about to wipe his hand off when Lew stops him. “Let me.”
After a moment of confusion, Dick understands and lifts his hand to Lew’s mouth, slipping a sticky finger inside. Lew licks him clean, one finger at a time, and Dick thinks of Bastogne and smiles. “You knew exactly what you were doing that morning.”
“Well, I had a little idea. Never thought you’d go for it. For me. Thought I was being crazy.”
Dick kisses him gently. “Guess we’re both crazy.”
Lew nods toward his crotch. “Looks like there’s life in the old boy yet. I’ll be up and about in no time.”
Reaching down, Dick takes Lew in hand. It’s the first time he’s ever touched another man like this, so he just strokes the way he likes it himself. Lew leans into him, murmuring. “Yes. Mmm. You know those boys at school I told you about? That was nothing. Kid stuff. No girls around, so we made do. With you, it’s…oh, Jesus.” His cock throbs in Dick’s hand. “I can’t explain it. Never thought I’d want a man like this.” His breath catches. “But I want you. Want it all.”
Feeling bold, Dick sucks Lew’s earlobe. “Should I use my mouth?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, is that a trick question?”
He shimmies down, careful not to jostle Lew. Holding the base of Lew’s cock, he licks up and down the length before taking it between his lips. The taste and smell fills his senses and his own spent cock twitches. Dick’s not exactly sure what he’s doing, but Lew is hot and swollen in his mouth, moaning above him, so he must be doing something right.
Tongue swirling, he sucks and licks, moving up and down Lew’s shaft. Dipping his head lower, he laps at Lew’s balls, and Lew gasps, fingers grasping for Dick’s head. “So good,” he mutters.
Dick sucks him deeply again, and Lew warns him a moment before his hot seed fills Dick’s mouth. Dick swallows as fast as he can, some of it dripping from his lips. It’s salty and he can’t think of anything to compare it to, but he knows he wants more.
Lew’s already sounding sleepy. “Definitely feel better.” He tugs on Dick’s hair, and Dick stretches out beside him, kissing him gently. “Thank you,” Lew murmurs. He gazes seriously, cupping Dick’s cheek. “Thank you.”
Dick knows he’s talking about more than sex. He kisses Lew again and tucks him in under the thick duvet. The bed is soft, and they sink into it as Lew drifts off. For a moment, Dick allows himself a fantasy that the bed they’re in is their own. That they’re home in America, far away from any war.
Later, he fixes his uniform in front of a cheval glass in the corner of the bedroom, buckling his belt and dabbing at the stains on his shirt. He gazes at his own reflection and straightens his tie, shoulders back. Beyond him, he can see Lew sleeping soundly. He feels no shame. No regret.
He feels like more of a man than he ever has firing his rifle.
*
At zero-three-hundred, Lew wakes, shifting his limbs heavily and moaning. Dick sits beside him atop the blankets, leaning back against the headboard. He’s fully dressed but for his boots, because privacy in the army is fleeting, lock on the door or not.
Dick brushes Lew’s hair back from his forehead, tracing the neat line of stitches there. He’d opened the heavy drapes after turning off the light, and the moon streams in through the gauzy curtains left underneath.
Blinking up at him, Lew’s lips quirk up in a ghost of a smile. His voice is hoarse. “Know what else I thought I’d die without doing?”
Dick puts his arm behind Lew’s shoulders and helps him sit up a bit to sip a glass of water. “What’s that, Nix?”
“Telling you I love you. That I don’t care if it’s wrong. Because I feel so damn happy when I’m with you, Dick. Always have.”
Then he’s back under, head resting on Dick’s shoulder as sleep claims him. When Dick can breathe again, he wants more than anything to wake Lew and tell him he feels the same, and always will. But Lew needs his rest.
Dick closes his eyes, and promises God and himself to tell him every day.
fin