Foreign Territory (Active Duty #2)

In Private

"You sure this is safe?"

Sergeant Jason Williams kicked shut the rickety door with his patrol boots, twisted the various locks and clanged the metal chain across the rusty hook. Turning, he set his dusky blue eyes on Private Robin Underwood behind him. Robin, decked out in his full army clobber, arched an eyebrow to the point it was hidden under his red beret and the thick dark hair peeking out beneath, awaiting a response to his valid question.

"You undermining my authority, Private?"

Robin swallowed. Folding his arms over his tactical vest, he glanced around to take in their dishevelled and decrepit surroundings. The bloke had a point, but Jason couldn't be arsed to warrant him with a decent response. Pulling rank had worked so far. And Jason had far more pressing matters to attend to.

"Get over here." Jason nudged his head, using his demanding commanding officer tone. "Now."

Robin didn't move. A loud clatter made him flinch and he widening his eyes in hesitation. Jason flattened a palm to the wood, leaned his ear toward the door and listened. Holding in a breath, Jason curled a hand around his PLCE belt, flicking fingers into his pouch to hover over the flip knife inside. A further slam and bang rattled the entire room and Jason waited, impatiently, for the muffled voices and clambering feet to disappear from ear shot.

"It's fine." Jason waved a hand at the door, glancing to Robin out the corner of his eyes.

Robin gave a dubious cock of his head. Then, gradually, he relaxed. Trailing his arms to his side, he locked his eyes on Jason. Raucous giggling from behind the walls wafted into the room and Robin raised his other eyebrow. Jason stood his ground and cleared his throat

"Scared, soldier?" Jason smirked. "'Cause I ain't asking twice."

Robin exhaled, his shoulders dropping from the squared stiffness he'd been stuck in the past couple of days.

That's when Jason knew he had him. Robin leapt forward and smashed his mouth onto his. Trailing his hands behind Robin's back, Jason gripped the soldier's pert arse. It was all clumpy and awkward. Both had their full winter MTPs and tactical vests on with the varying equipment attached. Jason couldn't get the man close enough and inhaled heavily through his nostrils, taking in the scent of musky sweat, two day old stale mud, and caked on war paint.

Jason ripped Robin's beret off his head and lobbed it across the room like a Frisbee. Wriggling free of his own head gear, he forbade his mouth from leaving Robin's. Staggering the man backwards, Jason fumbled with Robin's vest, unclipping the belt attachments and Velcro seals, all the while Robin rummaged around in Jason's mouth with his tongue, almost to the point it was invasive. Not that Jason minded. Robin's tongue was warm, his body hot beneath all the winter army clobber, which was a welcome relief from the freezing temperatures they were currently in. Even though they'd found solitude inside a decrepit building, there was no central heating and he didn't have time to fuck about with the makeshift furnace. Heat would rise between them. All in good time.

Well, not that much time.

"Get the fucking stuff off!" Jason barked.

Robin chuckled, stepping back. He squirmed free of the tactical vest and threw it to the hard wooden slabs of flooring covered minimally by a frayed and dirty rug. He unzipped his top as Jason frantically ripped off his own MPT's. Shoving his arms from the sleeves to reveal the thermal vest beneath, Robin shivered.

"It's fucking freezing."

"Then get under the fucking covers." Jason flapped a hand toward the double bed in the centre of four bare walls.