Guess what I did instead of my Shakespeare paper?

Last chapter.

Doodley doo, enjoy.

Warren's elbow was throbbing like hell with the extent he'd pushed the joint to. He grunted in frustration, letting them limb fall. In defeat, he passed his lighter to his right hand to light one of the well-endowed "J's" that the hippies at the airport had given him. Once it was lit, he tossed the lighter on the nightstand.

Plopping back into the disarray of sheets and pillows, he took a long toke and held it in. After a few seconds he turned his head to look at his bedmate.

Will was lying on his side, propped up slightly on a pillow and sipping a beer. His skin sheened with drying sweat and those ocean blue eyes were sleepily watching the pyro.

Warren shifted, touching the Sergeant's cheek as he leaned in to seal his lips over his. The smaller man twitched slightly, but allowed the Private to exhale the smoke into his mouth. He breathed in slowly, taking what he was given.

Sure, he'd seen Layla and her parents smoke weed, as well as plenty of their friends back in high school. He was familiar with the scent and the basics of it. But he'd never done it before in his life.

Over the past year, he'd found himself doing all kinds of things he'd never done before with the sniper.

Warren leaned back, and took a sip from Will's can, watching him as he held it in for a second and burst into a fit of coughing. The damned Private smiled gently, comfortingly stroking Will's thigh with his left hand. It was all the limb could do at the moment.

Once Will had quieted again, the pyro asked, "You okay?"

The Sergeant swallowed hard, took a long pull off of his beer and chuckled, "Yeah."

Warren smiled, and leaned in just to kiss him this time. It was slow and tender, like he knew his lover deserved. Especially after the stress he'd just pushed the man's body to.

"How are you really? Tell me the truth." He said, taking a modest hit this time, opting not to shotgun it down the brawn's throat this time. Will closed his eyes for a moment, took in a deep breath and sighed.

"Honestly? Kinda sore." He answered, tossing the rest of the beer back.

Nodding, Warren dragged his left arm up to card his fingers back through the Sergeant's hair. "It hurts the most your first time. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I wanted to do it," Will smiled, carefully leaning over to put the can on the nightstand. He settled down to rest against his lover's side, "I wanted to do it with you."

The pyro frowned slightly, looking down at the man, "You didn't do this just for me, did you?"

Will frowned back, "What do you mean?"

"Did you really want to do it because you wanted to do it? Or just because it would impress me or something?"

The brawn snorted, and spoke honestly, "Both! I wanted to please you. And I mean, let's face it…it's only so long a guy can live on a few frantic hand jobs in a broom closet!" Warren snorted back at him, looking up at the ceiling and muttering before he took another toke, "We never did it in a broom closet."

"No. But I am glad we did it. I did want to. I mean…I didn't expect it to hurt like it did…but it did feel good." Will took the joint from between Warren's fingers and ignored the dramatic, affronted look he got. He tentatively took a hit, and coughed it back out, a little less harshly this time. "In fact, it felt pretty damn good right at the end."

"Why don't you tell me about it?" Warren chuckled, knowing that despite being outspoken and friendly, the man was bashful when it came to talking about this sort of thing. 'Too much of a gentleman' the boys used to call him teasingly.

The telltale blush crept across the brawn's face as the pyro knew it would. To stave off speaking, Will took another modest toke.

"Have you ever done it? Like I…well, you know." He asked after, handing the joint back.

"Have I ever taken it? No." And then the Private added as a matter-of-factly, "Well, once."

Starting, Will propped himself up on an elbow, "Really?"

Warren outright tittered at his lover's shock. Maybe it was the ganja kicking in a bit, but it did look funny. Adorable more like.

"Yeah. Sort of. I was fifteen." The sniper rubbed at the crease in his brow, smirking, trying to remember that night. "It was at a party I crashed. I didn't really get along with anyone I went to school on the Reservation with, but I stopped by because I didn't have anything fucking better to do."

Will snorted, "You? Not getting along with other people? No!"

Warren gave the brawn a light cuff on the side of the head and continued, "Anyways, I showed up, got drunk, and started going at it with this girl from the Senior class in a bedroom upstairs. Then her fucking boyfriend busts in the door."

He paused and took another hit while Will's eyes widened, "Christ! What did you do?"

The pyro placed a hand over his eyes and laughed out smoke, "I'm there on the bed, balls-deep in this chick and I look at him and go 'Care to join us?'"

Will pressed his face into the curve of the Private's throat, and laughing. "You're a fucking idiot!" He took the roach from Warren and shook his head, taking another hit. "He must've tried to take your head off."

"You'd think so! But after I said that, he shut the door and started ripping off his clothes!"

Laughter and smoke filled the room as the two lay there, shaking in hilarity.

"I remember him climbing up behind me, and he just started digging his fingers into me with lotion or something. Like I said, I was drunk, so I didn't think it'd be a bad idea. Anyways, she's moaning, I'm sweating, there are legs and hands everywhere. Then he finds that spot, you know, the one that feels really damn good?"

Will nodded, having just learned about the existence of that spot very well.

"So, I tell him to just fucking put it in already. He's telling me 'no, no, you're not ready yet'…which now that I think about it, was a pretty nice gesture. I heard that he turned out to be a fag and just had a girlfriend to keep it a secret." The sniper puzzled at the ceiling for a long moment before shrugging and taking another hit. "She's telling me to go harder; he's telling me to relax. It was a fucking mess."

The brawn smiled, "What did you do?"

"He probably got one inch in me, she started coming, and I blew my load." Warren chuckled. "She fell asleep, I told him to fuck off, pulled up my pants and then stumbled home. Poor guy."

Will shook his head, "Wow."

"Yeah, I know. I'm a jerk." The Private chuckled, dropping what was left of the doobie in the ashtray on the nightstand. The Sergeant laid his head on the sniper's shoulder, "No-oot completely."

"Yeah…you know, you made me a better man, Stronghold."

Cocking an eyebrow, Will scoffed, "You're stoned."

"Yep." He shifted out from under the brawn, and climbed on top of him.

The Sergeant grasped his lover's powerful thighs and shook his head, "War, I don't think I could t-take it again…not yet."

The pyro chuckled, stroking his thumb up and down the underside of the brawn's cock. It twitched with interest, and slowly began to fill out. "Don't worry, Stronghold. I'm so high right now, I don't have the coordinate…coordination. So, you'll just have to make due."

His large hand wrapped around the both of them and proceeded to stroke.

Will had thought that things couldn't much more new between the two of them. But this was indeed different. Having the Private's cock flush up against his was…it was warm, and soft, but yet so hard and resilient. It felt amazing. It felt even more amazing when Warren thrust his hips against his. The friction was hot and almost hurt, but still the brawn moaned for more.

However, it was perhaps five long minutes of sluggish pulls and thrusts, sloppy kisses and fits of giggles later that the two men collapsed side by side.

"Ohh, fuck me, I'm too stoned to even get off." Warren laughed weakly, holding his stomach. Will covered his face with his hands, and snickered as the pyro pulled him close. "Sorry, Stronghold," He chuckled, "I'll just have to fuck you or something in the morning."

Snorting, the Sergeant reached down to adjust himself, "Groovy."

"Oh, don't start that shit."

The alarm was going off. The sun peaked through the blinds. The room smelled of beer, marijuana and the musk of sex. Will found himself waking up in a tangle of limbs and bed sheets. Blindly he reached for the source of the alarm clock on the bedside table and slapped the snooze button, habitually turning off the switch.

He cracked open his eyes and grimaced at the light, and the slight soreness in his scars. His hands felt completely numb, and he felt over-warm. It took him a moment to come to the realization that he was lying atop Warren's back. His left hand had been hanging off of the bed beside the pyro's and the other was tucked under his chest.

The brawn carefully pulled his hand out from under his slumbering lover and jumped to see that he'd drooled all over the man's shoulder. Swearing quietly, he grabbed an edge of the sheet, and gently wiped it off.

"Quit squirming, Will."

With a chuckle, the Sergeant dropped a kiss onto the back of the pyro's neck. "Well, good morning to you to, sunshine."

"It'll be a good morning when I can fucking feel my arm again." Warren groaned, nudging Will off of him. He rolled over, and hugged his left arm to himself. "Never mind, I don't want to feel it anymore…Christ…got any pain poppers left?"

"Yeah, hang on." The brawn slid off the bed and went to his bag. After finding the bottle, he flicked out a pill and brought it back to the pyro. As the pyro took it and washed it down with some leftover, flat beer, the Sergeant studied the sensitive pink flesh around his lover's elbow.

He grasped Warren's left hand and caressed his knuckles over and over with his thumb.

"Whole fucking thing's useless. You know I can't feel anything in my last three fingers? Fucking war…" the pyro grunted, brushing his hair back.

Will leaned down and kissed his knuckles, and then kissed the scarred joint. "This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't gone back for me. If you had just kept running, you would have been fine."

Warren scoffed, "And then you'd be dead."

The brawn shifted, carefully moving his right knee over the sniper's body so that he straddled him. "I've thanked you for saving my life right?"

The Private pretended to think about it for a minute. In the meantime, his hands idly stroked the edges of his lover's muscled thighs. "Not today, no."

Smiling, Will leaned down and kissed him. The pyro slipped his tongue into his mouth and it just nearly made the brawn melt. A gasp caught up in his throat when Warren bit at his lower lip. A sigh floated out of him when his lips trailed down. His teeth nipped at his throat, and he sucked on the nape of his neck.

The Sergeant whimpered, mouthing at the pyro's shoulder. He cried out when the sniper's hip rocked up into his.

He glanced over at the clock. It was 7:08. The bus would arrive at the station at 8:15. There wasn't much time left to be with him alone. There wasn't much time left to just be with him. They'd only be together on that bus as far Cheyenne, Wyoming. And then they would part ways. Warren would head home to North Dakota, and Will would head home to New Mexico.

The brawn could have just taken a bus straight to Albuquerque and would have saved nearly half a day of traveling. But he'd opted to take the bus with the pyro to his connection station. Neither had said anything about it.

But now, the Sergeant felt a lump rising in his throat. His chest felt tight. He didn't want to part ways. He wanted to stay here in this room. He wanted to stay here with his best friend. He wanted to stay here with his lover.

"Warren…I," Will started, voice breaking, "I want you to," The air in his lungs left him very suddenly when the Private sat up, and pressed him down against the mattress. A shiver went up his spine as the sniper's hands and tongue caressed his skin.

He breathed deeply through Warren's preparations and entry. He moaned in pleasure or hissed in pain when he couldn't help it. His cock was a little easier to accept this time. A little less painful. A little more enjoyable. Even if it felt like his heart was breaking.

"You'll call me sometime, right?" Will asked as the Private quickly folded up the paper with his address and phone number on it to keep it from getting wet in the rain.

"Yeah, I will." Warren answered quietly, brushing wet locks of his hair away from his face. "You sure you're gonna be okay waiting here by yourself for another four hours?"

They'd arrived in this ass crack of a bus station in Wyoming at one in the morning. It was now 5am. The sniper's bus was getting ready to load up its passengers to head North. The brawn's bus wouldn't head South until nine.

Weakly, the Sergeant smiled, "Yeah, I'll be fine." Don't go…

Behind them they heard the bus engine start up. Warren glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was looking. And then he turned back to Will.

He'd been trying to subtly wipe at his eyes when he hadn't been looking. But he'd been caught. His sad, ocean blue eyes moved immediately to the wet, filthy ground. The pyro listened to the shuddering breath the brawn took.

He thought longingly to the morning before. All the love they'd made. All of the comfortable talking. The uninhibited touches. He thought about the years they'd spent in the 'Nam together. He thought about the first time he'd saw him, and how much he'd hated him.

But he could never hate him now.

Stepping into Will's space, Warren cupped his face and kissed him. Their lips moved with one another like they never had before. Their movements were slow, and desperate. The pyro's cheeks felt wet with the rain and his lover's tears. It was all he could do to keep himself from breaking down. So, he embraced the brawn, holding his body tightly against his.

The Sergeant closed his eyes and let himself feel the Private's warmth. He breathed in deep his scent. He wanted to remember everything about him. He didn't know when…or if…he'd ever see him again. He pressed his face into sniper's shoulder, choking back a sob.

He stroked a hand up and down Will's spine as long as he could before he murmured, "I gotta go."

Don't go. "Alright." Will said, stepping back, wiping at his eyes.

"I'll see you." Warren said, walking backwards with his rucksack over his shoulder.

"Yeah." Will bit the inside of his cheek. Please don't go…

He watched him climb onto the bus. It closed its doors behind him, and waited a moment while he found a seat in the back. And then it was moving. Driving away. In the dark, Will thought he saw Warren turn and look back. So he raised a hand, waving goodbye from where he stood in the light of the station.

He waited for something to change. He waited for the bus to screech to a stop. He waited to see the pyro jumping out to come back to him. But it didn't. The bus kept on driving up that road until Will couldn't see it anymore.

With that he went and plopped down on the bench that they'd sat on for four hours together. His hand pressed into the wood beside him, wishing he was there. He wished he could feel the warmth of his thigh pressed against his. He looked down at his shoes as the rain drops dripped from the awning onto his toes.

He leaned forward, pressing his face into his hands to cry. Don't leave me behind…