Zane was getting cabin fever holed up in the cheap
hotel. Who was he kidding, it was
because he was missing Ty. He
wasn’t really worried about Ty on base, but once SST Grady and his recruits
left the base on liberty, all bets were off and even Zane couldn’t be sure that
he and Wes could cover all the bases to ensure that they would catch the bad
guys before something might go wrong.
Normally Ty could take care of himself, but this one just had too many
variables for Zane’s liking. Wes
seemed level headed and capable, although he certainly wouldn’t be able to hold
his own in hand to hand combat.
That was why Zane was going to be positioned closer to the action and
act as the last ditch marksman, with live ammo to take out anyone who threatened
harm to the Marines. Wes would be
positioned further back and armed with tranquilizer darts, to stop but not
kill. Something about Wes and Nick
still bothered Zane… but a knock
at the door interrupted his thinking.
With one hand holding his Glock behind his back, Zane pulled the door wide. “Hi honey, I’m home!” Ty said, almost laughing at his own wit. Zane was both amused and a bit shocked; Ty sported a split lip and bruise on his chin. Zane stuffed the Glock in the back of his trousers and pulled Ty inside into a strong hug. Ty tensed up and called out involuntarily in pain. “Careful, my ribs… I’m bruised all over!” Zane released him, holding him carefully by the arms. They locked eyes, Zane’s expression curious. “Stark is a skilled fighter,” Ty said. Zane was cautious with his next question. “Did you… lose?” he said tentatively. Ty chuckled. “No. We were pretty evenly matched though. Didn’t get to finish it, Douglas broke it up. Just as well actually, before any real damage was done. Nick and I were about evenly banged up.”
“So did the fight clear things up between you two,” Zane
asked. Ty nodded, talking in
stream of consciousness, his brows knit.
“Yeah it was good, mostly for show,” he said, pacing, “but we had already sort of come to
terms and buried the hatchet.
Tears and hugging were involved,” he continued. Zane just raised an eyebrow. He cocked an eyebrow at Zane and added,
“Didn’t make me any less of a man though.”
Ty tossed his pack on the bed; Zane was watching him
closely. “What?” Ty asked. Zane shook his head, not answering; he
was concerned that based on the fight with Stark, Ty wasn’t 100% physically,
and it was possible that would be a risk for the mission that was going down
tomorrow. They had this night
together, and Zane wanted to fuck Ty into the mattress all night long before he
left in the morning to pick up the men for their weekend pass, and Wes came by
to retrieve Zane and get in position.
“I’m fine,” Ty said, reading Zane’s mind. Zane looked him up and down
lasciviously. “Yes. You are,” he drawled. Ty rolled his eyes. “Pickup lines still need help,” he
said. “I doubt I even need to talk
to get you naked and under me, Staff Sargeant,” Zane replied. Ty nodded, murmuring, “You’re probably
right.” With that, Ty lay down on
the bed and patted next to him, for Zane to join him. Zane crawled up, and pulled Ty into their usual positions,
with Ty’s head resting in the crook of Zane’s shoulder, his face leaning
towards Zane’s pec. “Missed you, Lone
Star,” Ty said, looking up at Zane’s face. Zane just tightened his arm in response. They dozed that way for a while, until
Ty started seriously nuzzling at Zane’s pec. “Someone’s frisky,” Zane said as he looked down and saw Ty’s
eyes looking up at him, eyebrows raised.
“What do you want, babe?
Your pick tonight,” Zane offered.
Without hesitation, Ty quietly answered, “Will you fuck me?” “Of course. That’s what I was hoping you’d want,” Zane smiled down as Ty
averted his eyes. Damn, he still
isn’t totally comfortable asking for it, Zane thought. So he went about stripping Ty and
tossing his own clothes aside with a minimum of talk or fuss, then laid Ty on
his back so his ribs wouldn’t hurt.
Lots of eye contact, almost no talking as Zane lubed Ty’s entrance and
loosened him, his other hand trailing light touches over his battered torso. Soon Zane positioned his cockhead and
nudged forward, breaching Ty’s hole. Ty moaned briefly; he was tight from
having gone without for the better part of a week. Zane pushed in, filling up his partner; he was rewarded with
a look of total bliss on Ty’s face, eyes half closed, head tilted back. Topman my ass, Zane thought as he took
his lover. But I have to keep on
making you think you are, he mused as his balls hit Ty’s ass. The deed was done quickly, Zane
shooting into Ty and Ty softly jerking himself and shooting over his hard torso
while Zane roughly worked his nipples.
The stubble across Ty’s chest and flat belly was just starting to grow
back in, Zane noticed. He would
have to trim up before heading out tomorrow. Without even bothering to clean up, the lovers climbed under
the covers together and fell asleep.
After a few moments, Ty curled on his side and Zane slid up next to him,
arm over his lover with his hand planted on his stomach, which finally
relaxed. Ty drifted off first,
Zane enjoying seeing him at peace for a change. The fight and whatever he and Stark had talked about must
have done the trick; Ty’s mind was at ease. And it was classic Ty that he wasn’t worrying about
tomorrow; no point in worrying about it until it was upon him. Zane however laid awake a while going
over the plan and looking for any risks or needed contingency.
Ty’s internal clock had quickly restored itself from his years
in the Corps; after just a week with the recruits, he was waking at 0500 raring
to go. He slipped out of bed,
trying his best not to disturb Zane, who released his arms from around Ty, then
rolled over and snuffled before his breathing evened out again. Ty looked down at his sleeping partner;
his broad back and wide shoulders, and his thick curly dark hair, mussed from
sleep, cascading down the back of his neck. He was looking forward to both of them returning to
Baltimore, where they could relax and just be themselves. Ty liked nothing better than lazy
weekend days, when they could spend the morning hours lounging around the
bedroom, both comfortable being naked and amenable to the sex games they were
just starting to explore together.
Ty’s cock stiffened as he remembered a time just a couple weeks prior
where he had ordered Zane to kneel down as he emerged from taking his morning
piss. Zane had raised an eyebrow
and complied. Ty had roamed his
eyes over Zane’s hard torso, then nodded down towards his dangling cock and
balls. “Get it hard,” he had
ordered. Zane’s cock had already
responded on its own before he took it in his hand and started languidly
stroking. “Work your pecs” was the
next command. Zane silently raised
his other hand and started kneading the solid muscles of his chest, while Ty
moved to sit on the edge of the bed and masturbate himself. Zane knew the game; he was to remain
silent, not asking, just obeying.
Although he did take liberty enough to pinch his nipples as he worked his
chest. Ty got off on how Zane’s
taut abdominals flexed with each breath as Zane’s breathing became
shallow. “Getting close?” Ty
asked, his tone still commanding.
“Yes,” Zane replied, voice hoarse, adding “Sir” which made Ty’s cock
leap. “Lean back, take it on your torso,” Ty
ordered. Zane leaned back,
supporting his weight on one arm thrown back behind him. His muscled thighs were spread, big
balls swinging, as he stroked the last few times before semen erupted from his
shaft, spattering over his pecs and belly. Their eyes remained locked as Ty unfolded himself from the
edge of the bed, and quickly moved to stand over Zane, still stroking
himself. He squatted down over
Zane’s stretched torso, and with a moan and a few final strokes he added his spunk
to Zane’s. Almost before he was
done shooting, Ty knelt down facing his lover, pulling him up and bringing him
in for a deep kiss. Their arms
around each other, torsos wet with each others’ loads, loving the way they
responded to each other. “That was
hot,” Zane chuckled. “Ball’s in
your court next time, Lone Star,” Ty responded, “you can be the sheriff and I’m
the cattle rustler,” he added with a twinkle in his eye. Zane rolled his eyes, “You really need
to get over the whole Texas fantasy.”
Ty shook his head. “You
kidding me? You in the cowboy hats
and boots? And nothing else? I’d let you rope me and dole out some
frontier justice,” Ty proposed.
“Allow me to translate that,” Zane drawled. “You want me to tie you up and fuck you wearing the hat and
boots?” Suddenly Ty was shy; he
looked at Zane out of the corner of his eye, adding “Maybe,” in a subdued
voice. Zane was already working
out how he would work the scene, but that was for another morning, so he stood
and offered his hand to help Ty up.
“Let’s shower off before we’re crusty,” he said, pulling Ty after him to
the shower.
No time for that this morning, Ty thought, as he started to
focus on the mission at hand. He
lathered up his torso to give it a fresh shave as he reviewed the plan from his
perspective. He would drive to
base, gather up the recruits, and they would spend the day enjoying liberty
before heading to a bar that the Marines frequented in a seedy part of
town. He would let them drink,
including himself, but not get too hammered for when it went down. The whole purpose was to lure the
kidnappers out into the open. They
hadn’t figured out how they pulled off incapacitating and taking fit young men
and making them disappear, but based on what they had learned by reading the
reports of the other disappearances it had to be somewhere between the bar,
where the recruits typically drank as a group, and the individual rooms where
the hookers plied their trade. At
the end of the night, one or more of the guys simply wouldn’t join their
buddies to head back to base, and by that time the trail had gone cold. So, Ty would farm out the recruits
while both himself and Wes and Zane were watching both from inside the building
and from the surrounding area.
Ty looked down; he had finished shaving his chest and belly
while he was concentrating. He
reached over and turned the shower on, nodding to himself that he was mentally
prepared for the day. Physically
might be another story, as he held his bruised ribs. He thought of Stark with a bit of concern; Douglas had
seemed to come down pretty hard on Nick, and he hadn’t returned by the time Ty
had cleaned up and left base for his liberty.
“We don’t usually take them that old,” the lean man
said.
“He’s fit, and he saw combat in Desert Storm,” the fat man
replied.
“You sure about that?” the lean man asked as the cell was
unlocked. He moved in and knelt
down beside the unconscious Marine.
He lifted both eyelids, and used his finger to part the lips and inspect
the teeth. “If so, I’ll take
him. There are always buyers for
that. But you’re signing his death
warrant,” the lean man continued.
“I don’t give a shit what you or the ragheads do with ‘em,
long as you pay,” the fat man said roughly as the lean man ran his hands over the
bare torso, inspecting the musculature through the thick pelt of dark hair.
The lean man nodded.
“Fair enough. Help me strip
him so I can finish inspecting his body.”
Both men worked at removing the boots, camouflage pants, and
jockstrap. As they rolled the
powerful body over and back the Marine’s handsome head lolled, no muscle
control holding it up. The lean
man finished checking out the now naked body. “He’s impressive.
I’ll take him. How long
will he be out?” he lean man asked.
“Couple hours more.
But you should be off base pretty soon, you’re supposed to be delivering
supplies. Let’s load him.”
Silently the lean man and the fat man secured the Marine
with duct tape over the mouth and around the wrists and ankles. He was loaded into a hamper, towels
thrown over the top, then wheeled out to the loading dock and into the back of
the panel truck.
As the lean man pulled the back closed, he said to the fat
man “Money will be in the usual account.”
The fat man nodded, not able to resist a grin. “Pleasure doing business with you,” he
said, closing the door as the truck started and rumbled off.
Zane rolled over onto his back as the shower was turned
on. He wanted more sleep, but knew
that he would rather see Ty off, then he could take a nap before Wes showed
up. When Ty emerged naked from the
bathroom, Zane was sitting at the desk chair in his jeans. Zane studiously avoided running his
eyes over Ty’s body; he knew Ty didn’t have time for a roll in the hay. Ty broke eye contact and started
pulling on his civvies, starting with some tight white briefs. The silence stretched. They sometimes got this way when a case
with too many variables kept them unsettled, running options, scenarios and
risks in their minds. “I’ll be
watching. So will Wes,” Zane
finally said. Ty just nodded, not
even looking up. Zane wanted badly
to tell Ty to be careful, ask if his body was up to it, even just tell him he
loved him. But he resisted,
knowing they had to be FBI agents first and lovers second for this to
work. They had achieved an uneasy
if workable balance, keeping their relationship secret while still maintaining
their workplace banter, and more importantly their success rate and reputation as
partners intact.
As Ty shouldered his duffel and headed towards the door,
Zane just followed him with his eyes.
Ty sighed, and quickly bent down to deliver a quick kiss. He cupped Zane’s cheek briefly. “We’ll be headed home early next week,
Lone Star. Watch my back for me,
ok?” Zane nodded, no words being
needed. Ty straightened and
continued towards the door. Zane
watched Ty’s butt in the fatigues as the door shut behind him.
He knew he wouldn’t nap anyway, so Zane changed into a pair
of running shorts and put himself thru a series of calisthenics and an
abdominal workout that he had come up with while posted in Miami. Pushups, crunches, squats, dips, you
name it. It was enough to get him
sweaty and keep his mind focused while the time passed. He was actually startled when he heard
the knock on the door. He glanced
at the digital clock on the nightstand as he got to his feet, running a towel
over his face and bare torso to get most of the sweat off. Almost two hours had passed, and his
body felt tight and alert as he moved to the door. On some level Zane enjoyed keeping his body looking good for
Ty. He attracted all sorts of
interest, but his only goal was to see Ty’s eyes light up whenever he saw Zane
naked. Ty’s cock rising was reward
enough.
Looking through the peephole, Zane saw what he expected. He opened the door and let Wes in,
lugging a couple long heavy cases.
“Morning,” Wes nodded, a bit surprised to see Zane just in a pair of
running shorts. He set the cases
down on the second bed. “Sorry, I
lost track of the time, was just doing a quick workout,” Zane explained. “No problem, I can wait while you get
ready. We have plenty of time,”
Wes said as he sat down. Zane
grabbed his dopp kit and went into the bathroom to start getting ready. Wes looked around the room idly; he was
dressed in comfortable jeans and a polo shirt. It hugged his pecs and biceps, but was loose over his worked
out abdominals. After the shower
ran, Zane came out into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. He dug through his open suitcase,
pulling out a black tee shirt and black jeans. Stepping into a jockstrap, he pulled it up under the towel,
tossing the towel off as he cinched the strap around his waist. He turned his back to Wes to step into
the jeans, giving Wes a full view of Zane’s muscled butt, dusted with dark
hair, darker at the crack. Not a
single flicker of reaction to the FBI agent’s near nudity or lack of modesty
crossed Wes’ face. Buttoning up
the jeans, Zane turned to face Wes as he pulled the shirt over his head. While
Zane’s face was covered by the tshirt as he struggled to pull it down over his
torso, Wes’ assessing gaze traveled over Zane’s stretched pecs and down the
treasure trail on his six pack as it thickened towards his groin. Zane tucked the shirt in, cinched his
belt, and ran his hand thru his hair.
He purposely hadn’t shaved, and didn’t bother to slick his hair back;
the part of town they would be operating in called for just the sort of look he
was sporting. In his own way, Wes
would fit in as well, looking like some married businessman whose wife no
longer put out and wanting to get laid with no strings.
Zane laced up his boots, then Wes opened both cases and
walked thru the finer points of the rifle and the tranquilizer gun. They had been over the plan many
times. Ty was playing designated
driver, and would lead the recruits as a group to one of the popular bars that
they had agreed upon. Wes and Zane
would take up positions on nearby low rooftops, with clear shots towards both
the front door and the back alley.
It was assumed that the kidnapped Marines didn’t leave under their own
power; lugging a couple hundred pound man required some logistics and a
vehicle, so there should be plenty of opportunity to catch them in the
act. Plan A was that Ty would pull
his service weapon and engage the culprits, with Zane and Wes as backup. Plan B was that if Wes and Zane saw it
going down but there was no sign of Ty, they would fire either bullets or
darts, depending on what was needed.
They wanted these men alive, so they could interrogate them and find out
who was behind the operation.
Bullets could be used to maim or shoot out tires, and darts to knock
them out.
Ty was the ringleader for the ongoing beerfest that was the
recruits’ liberty. They knew they
had all day Saturday and Sunday to let loose and get drunk, and hopefully get
laid, then still have Sunday night to sleep off any hangover before being ready
to get back to their training on Monday.
And who better than to lead them to all the hot spots of the low rent
district of Miami than their new buddy, Staff Sargent Ty Grady. There was still a bit of a cloud
hanging over the men due to the handling of Captain Stark by Major Douglas, but
as an officer Stark wouldn’t have been accompanying them anyway, so they figured
they would see him on Monday, scowling as usual.
Ty had the course all mapped out, hitting a few dive bars
with cheap beer and pool tables and dartboards ready for the men to loosen up,
before hitting the place that was suspected to be where the kidnappers had
taken at least several of the young Marines. It was the last place any of them had been seen; a place
called Spotty’s. The main floor
was your typical rough bar, older and not very clean with neon signs in the
windows. There were a few rooms
upstairs, ostensibly for drunks to sleep it off so they wouldn’t have to drive,
but it was suspected that some of the barflys and even a few of the cocktail
waitresses would spread their legs for a hundred bucks in the rooms.
Spotty himself, a faded older Irishman with freckles across
his cheeks and nose, nodded and grinned at the Marines as they entered. Generally speaking the men from the
base got pretty rowdy with each other, but they didn’t cause trouble with
anyone else and certainly were a deterrent for other troublemakers. Plus they were generally nice guys, and
free with their tips, so Spotty welcomed them. Ty had never met Spotty, but as he approached the bar with
his hand out, Spotty was all too eager to shake his hand warmly and start pouring
pitchers for Ty’s men. “Hi,”
Spotty said, taking the firm handshake, “I’m Beauregard, but everyone calls me
Spotty.” Ty’s eyebrows shot
up. “Beauregard? Well shit. I never tell anyone this, but my real first name is
Beaumont. I go by Ty though.” Spotty gave Ty a wry grin. “We both have reasons to keep our first
names hidden, huh Beau?” They
shared a chuckle, as Ty started ferrying the pitchers to his men. “Some darts, Spotty?” Ty asked. With a quick nod, Spotty handed over
the darts and chalk to keep score.
“Thanks,” Ty said as he sat on the barstool, and turned to watch him
men. Or at least that’s what he
appeared to be doing, as he quickly surveyed the entrances, exits, windows and
stairs. It seemed straightforward
enough; alley out back, probably a few rooms on the top floor. Nothing fancy, probably a second set of
stairs that led from the upper floor directly outside. It was assumed that the captured
Marines were subdued during or after they drained their balls. Smart plan, to catch a man when he’s
sated and at his most vulnerable and least prepared to fight; probably even
still with his pants around his ankles.
Nick wasn’t going to force it; he thought it was best to let
nature take its course. Certainly
there were some attractive females present, a few of whom had already given Ty
the eye. He smirked inwardly; if
only they knew what turned his crank.
Ty’s thoughts turned to Zane; he assumed that Wes had picked him up, and
by this time they were already in position. Ty’s eyes next roamed over his men; he was trying to decide
who might be tempted to part with some cash for a piece of tail. The Hispanic boys were always prime,
since with their Catholic upbringing they had the least opportunity for
premarital sex growing up. However
the vast majority of the men taken had been Caucasian, with a preponderance of
those being good looking and fit, with fair complexions. Oh well, Ty thought, nothing to do but
wait. He poured himself a glass of
beer from one of the pitchers, only his third beer of the day, and let himself
be lured into a game of darts as some of the men waved him over. These boys didn’t know what they were
letting themselves in for, he thought to himself as he stood and walked over to
join them.
Zane’s sixth sense was pinging like crazy. Something didn’t seem right. He and Wes had been in position
for just over an hour, and sure enough they had seen Ty and the recruits arrive
at Spotty’s and head inside. Since
then, not a single suspicious vehicle or person had driven by, walked in, or
come through the alley. Zane
rubbed his chin, liking the feel of the scruff. He envisioned rubbing it up Ty’s spread asscrack, since he
knew how much Ty hated Zane’s facial hair. Ty was a bit obsessed with Zane’s looks; ever since their
Special Agent in Charge Dan McCoy had referred to Zane as “pretty” in front of
the assembled Baltimore team, Ty had become hyper aware of Zane’s physical
attributes, and how they appealed to the people Zane interacted with,
especially women. Ty discovered he
liked controlling exactly how Zane looked. Zane played along, secretly loving the fact that Ty even
wanted to tell him what to do, while being in denial that he was any great
prize. All Zane saw was his
crooked nose, his graying temples, and the skinny kid that he had once been. Ty had always been focused on Zane’s
muscled back and broad shoulders, and recently had added Zane’s hard six pack
and thick longish hair to his fixations.
Zane had grown it long because Ty asked him to; he had been immensely
touched when one day he came home to find a selection of hair gels that Ty had
purchased for him laid out on the vanity in the bathroom they shared. Each day Zane had styled his hair
slightly differently, with different product, asking Ty which way he liked
it. Once he found one that Ty
declared his favorite, he didn’t vary it.
Lately it was an easy way to tease Ty, that Zane would cut his hair
short. He never did though,
keeping it slicked back and under control at work, still looking clean cut and
professional, and a bit more unkempt at home. Today however, Zane was sporting messy loose curls cascading
down his neck and 3 days’ worth of beard.
As he shook off the memory of Ty’s obsession with him, he reached up,
ran his hand through his hair, down to his neck, which he absently rubbed hard
to try and relive some tension. He
turned his head from side to size, trying to pop the vertebrae. As he did so, he looked over his left
shoulder to where Wes was hidden behind the chimney of the building; Zane was
closer to the parapet, at the top of the service stairs behind a dormer
window. They made brief eye
contact; Zane could see the sights of Wes’ weapon, so he knew he also had been
scanning the area. Trusting that
both of them were trained professionals and would respond according to the plan
they had worked out, Zane turned his attention back to the building containing
Spotty’s.
Damn it, thought Ty.
Three of his men had already gone up to get laid, and come back down
with smiles on their faces. Two of
the Hispanic dudes, which he wasn’t sure would draw the kidnappers out; but
Kroeter had just come back down as well. Kroeter was a tall strapping blond
farm boy from the Midwest, with a killer body and fair skin. If they didn’t make a move on him, then
he didn’t know what else to do. Obviously
they weren’t waiting, or they had been warned off. Ty scowled as he turned to face the dartboard; anyone
looking at him would just assume he was concentrating on the dart game, not
running options for what might have gone wrong with their trap. He sighed, relaxed his upper body,
tensed his arm and launched the dart.
It hit the center of the dartboard, to the sound of a collective groan
from his men; he was already cleaning up, having won every game so far. Frustration made Ty’s concentration
sharp, and it was showing. He
strongly suspected someone was onto them; he knew Zane could take care of
himself, and he looked forward to hearing what if anything Zane had seen.
Zane was not in a position right that moment to see
anything. Ten minutes ago, a dark
panel truck had pulled up in the alley behind Spotty’s. Zane was instantly alert, as he knew
Wes would be as well. He looked
thru the sights of his rifle; he had binoculars as well, but it would take precious
seconds to put down the binoculars and switch to the rifle and aim; seconds he
didn’t want to gamble, when Ty’s safety was at stake. The impact in his upper back caught him off guard. He fell forward slightly, the rifle
skittering out of his hands. Even
as he started to lose muscle control, he knew what was happening. He turned to look back at Wes, who was
lowering his weapon and turning to beckon behind him; by the time Zane could
make out two other figures carefully walking down the sloped roof his vision
was already blurred. He sagged
forward, trying to move his arms to his hip where he had a handgun. His fingers wouldn’t work. He saw two sets of boots in front of
his face. They were reaching for
his arms. “Careful, he’s got
knives strapped to his wrists,” he heard Wes explain. Zane was grabbed by the biceps and drug out of his
perch. In so doing, his tight
black shirt came untucked and pulled up out of his dark pants. The gritty composition roof scraped on
his exposed abdominals as they forcibly pushed his sleeves up and disarmed him,
before wrenching his arms behind his back and cuffing him. His handgun was also removed. As they lifted him fully in order to
drag him away, Zane’s head was dropping, his vision nothing more than blurred images
moving jerkily; his eyes watered and his throat was dry. That’s all he thought of as he slipped
into unconsciousness.
They had carried their heavy burden down the interior stairs, and out to the back of the building, where the panel truck had moved. The diversion had worked like a charm, distracting Zane from checking his surroundings while Wes adjusted his aim, the crosshairs on Zane’s broad back. Although there was little hope of him doing anything other than taking the dart as planned; he was a sitting duck for Wes to take down.
Zane was loaded into the back of the truck. Wes knelt next to him as the back door
was slammed, and the two men got in the front. As they pulled away, Wes was
already wrapping duct tape around Zane’s boots. He gently lifted Zane’s head and pressed a six inch strip
over Zane’s mouth. He didn’t
bother blindfolding him; Zane knew Wes had betrayed him. If only Wes could tell him the whole
story, but he needed to keep Zane silent and assuming Wes had sold him
out. Wes sighed, then called out,
“He’s secure,” to the men in front.
