Coming Home

Kane:

I run through a maze of exploding mines, desperate to reach the end. All around me I see blurs of men in digi's, guns screaming as they fire on each other. I stumble and slam face first into sand. I struggle to get up but the sand keeps dragging me back down. Finally I manage to yank myself free, but when I look down, I'm covered blood. It's happening again. All around me, uniformed men are dying.

They're torn to pieces. Their blood won't stop flowing, surrounding me. I scream and floundered through the red muck. I reach the nearest body and grab for his dog tags.

Emilio Ortega. No, no no no. Please, not again. I back away from his body and trip over another form behind me.

It's Jason.

Oh, god.

I slowly stand up and make my way to the next body.

Isaiah.

I stand there, the still flowing blood forming a lake around me. My tears mix with the gruesome scene until I can only see shadows.

I fall to my knees, praying the blood will rise over me and take me away from this pain. As I open my mouth to scream, I hear a quiet voice behind me.

"You didn't tell me your name."

I jerked. The voice was familiar, after all, I had been thinking about it nonstop for days. But why would he be here? He shouldn't be. He was everything this place was not.

I slowly turn to face him.

It was him. His devastatingly green eyes soft and compassionate. His head tilted as if he was waiting for an answer, but I couldn't remember anything past his eyes.

His pink lips quirked into a smile, and he spoke again.

"You didn't tell me your name."

His voice was smooth with a faint lilt. It washed over me, eradicating all of my troubles, cleansing me of my past.

He was walking towards me now, his freckled hand outstretched. He was so beautiful.

When he was only a handbreadth away from me, he reached up to my cheek. His fingers drifted over my scars. His grass green eyes implored me quietly.

"Don't cry."

I shot awake. The feel of his fingers on my skin still lingered. Breath exploded in and out of my chest. The dream had started as it normally did, but then...

He saved me. As soon as I had heard his voice, everything else in the dream faded away. There was no more blood, no bodies, no explosions.

Sweat was running in rivulets down my chest, and I realized that I was painfully hard. My cock was tenting the sheets and demanding attention.

I usually don't jack off. In bootcamp everyone's so tightly packed together that it would be hard to get away with rubbing one off. Overseas, it was basically the same thing. And I was usually too tired to bother. Since I came back home, The pain was too great and raw to even think about getting hard. But now, I couldn't think about anything else.

Sliding my hand underneath the sheets, I grip my dick. I started to slowly stroke, images of copper hair and freckled skin flitting through my mind. Fully hard now, I pumped my cock faster, imagining it was him.

Imagining that he was leaning over my chest, nibbling on my ear while his small hand stroked my cock. I reached up with my free hand to tug on my nipples, but in my mind, it was his teeth, pulling tightly, then laving away the sting with his tongue.

In my fantasy, he licked and sucked his way down my chest. I could feel my self starting to come as I thought about his perfect lips wrapped around my cock. The image blew my over the edge, and I erupted with a loud groan.

Holy shit.

I haven't responded this way to a man in... well, ever. The few relationships I've had were short lived, and mainly about sex.

Glancing at the clock, I see that it's about time to get ready for work. For the first time, I'm excited.

I really, really hope that he comes back.

*******

He's here! I feel giddy, like a kid at Chuck 'E Cheese. I saw him walk in with the same friend he was with the other night. Unfortunately, I'm across the room.

Some idiot decided to upturn his beer over his boyfriends head, and started a fight. So I'm stuck dealing with this while the man of dreams dances only a few yards away.

I can see him swaying to the music. God, he's beautiful. Everyone around him seems to gravitate towards him, and yet nobody touches him. He laughs at something his friend says and his whole face lights up. So different from the watery half-smile I received the other night. I wish I could hear it.

Fuck it. I'm desperate.

I grab my radio and call for one of the other bouncers to come take of the two idiots.

As soon as they're no longer my problem, I make my way over.

Suddenly, I'm stuck in the middle of the writhing crowd, my breath coming short and fast. My old fears assault me. What if I'm not his type? What if he's disgusted by my scars? What if I scare him?

The noise of the club starts to pound in my head.

I feel so stupid. Why would a guy like him be interested in me? I look like a monster. It was ridiculous to even think about. There's no way a man as stunning as him would even talk to me

Despondent, I turn to run back to my corner.

Oh, shit.

He's right in front of me. Smiling at me. At ME.

"Hi, my name's Emerson. You're the bouncer who helped me and Chad out last Saturday right?"

His voice is exactly like it was in the dream. Soft, smooth, lilting. His smile is even more beautiful up close. His freckles stand out in relief against his pale skin. The black shirt he's wearing shows off his coloring and makes his eyes pop.

Fuck. I haven't answered his question. Just like in the dream. Damnit.

"Oh, uh... yeah." I am so freaking stupid.

He laughs and bounces on his toes, fucking adorable.

"Chad and I were wondering if we could buy you a drink or something, to thank you for your help. We have a booth right over there."

His eyes plead with me, happy and carefree.

"Uhm, sure. I guess, but I'm still working so I can't drink..."

"Oh, that's okay! A coke or something then. Come on, sit with us."

With that, he grabs my hand. It's so tiny in mine. He drags me over to their booth and shoves me into a seat with a big grin.

"So, what's your name?"

********

Emerson:

Holy Jesus almighty he was even hunkier than I remembered.

When he got Paul, my stalkerish ex off my back last saturday, he'd done it so calmly and proficiently that he immediately grabbed my attention. I mean, Paul had been swearing at him and trying to put some kinda dent into the hunks skin, but Hunky barely even batted an eyelash. Just picked paul up, walked to the door, and threw him out.

Which was super hot, by the way. Paul's no little guy, but Hunky picked him up like he weighed no more than one of those itsy bitsy purse chihuahuas!

Like I said, soooooo hot.

Chad's disappeared off somewhere. I've been yammering his ear off all week about the hot bouncer, and he knows I want some alone time with him.

Anyways, I just had to come back to see him again. I mean, I haven't seen a guy this gorgeous in ages. Like, seriously, Mr. Hunk is the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. Now, with him sitting in front of me, he's ten thousand times better than I remember.

Instead of the loose green shirt he'd been wearing last time, he's wearing this tight black number that shows off his enormous chest.

Drool!

And I can tell he's nervous. When I asked if he could be him a drink, he just stared at me for the longest time. I was starting to get scared that maybe he wasn't even gay. But then he blushed really hard and it was super duper cute.

He doesn't seem like one of those arrogant types that knows he's all that, which makes him even hotter. He keeps blushing! It makes me want to crawl right into his lap and have my wicked way with him. So cute!

Which, by the way, makes me realize that he still hasn't answered my question. Again. He's just blushing and staring at me with these intense brown eyes. Yeah, I'm for certain that he's gay now. Just meeting those lusty eyes makes me pop a woody.

Agh! Name first!

"You still haven't told me your name. Is it a secret?"

Ahhh he's blushing again! He smiles hesitantly at me, then huffs out a short laugh. I can tell that I'm making him squirm, but I don't really know why. I'm not exactly intimidating.

He finally looks back up at me. "Uh no... Ah it's Kane. Mckinney. Uhm. Yeah..." Then he blushes real hard again and rubs the side of his face.

That's when I notice the scars. Before, I was too busy gawking at his body and those unnerving eyes to notice the lacerations that cut through his lip and cover practically the whole left side of his face. They all seem to be going one direction, slashing down through his hairline and over his cheekbone. And, oh lord, half of his ear is gone. The scars continue on down his neck until they disappear into his t-shirt. Looking at his hand, I can see that even there, several scars obscured his skin.

Finally I make my way back up to his eyes, and what I see there make me sad. He'd put some kind of shield up. His eyes were hard now, scary almost.

He sat back and crosseds his arms over his chest, all nervousness gone.

"Finished with your perusal? I have to get back to work, so if we're done here, goodbye." He sneers at me and jerks himself out of the seat. Shocked, I can see that his jaw is set, and his fists are clenched tight. I can't let him go like this.

I reach out and manage to lightly grab his hand before he escaped. He stops abruptly, but doesn't t turn to face me. Through his hand, I can feel his whole body quivering.

"Please don't go." He finally turns to look at me, his jaw twitching. "Kane, please. What did I do wrong?" At that he jerks and stares wide eyed at me.

"You... you don't... my scars. I thought you were going to freak out or something..." He collapses back into the seat across from me and drops his head into his hands. "I decided to just save you the trouble and get out before you tried to let me down gently."

Okay, now I'm confused.

"Why would I need to let you down gently? Your scars don't bother me if that's what you think."

"What? They don't?" I have to giggle at the look on his face. He looks terrified and like he just found the end of the rainbow all at the same time.

"No, of course not. If anything, they're kind of hot." With this his mouth drops open and I start giggling again. "I mean, I'm sad that you had to go through whatever caused them, but they don't change you." Smirking, I add "And I like what I've seen of you so far."

His mouth slams shut and his cheeks flush bright candy apple red. Just the reaction I wanted.

Before he can respond, his radio goes off. Please don't tell me he has to go. This is just starting to get fun.

"Kane, it's Gordon. We need you upstairs, some guys are really having it out."

"Alright, I'll be up in a sec."

He looks apologetically at me, "I'm really sorry, but I have to take care of this..." He motions towards the stairs.

I'm disappointed, but I understand. "It's okay, just go do your thing."

He gets up, then pauses and turns back to me.

"Uhm, if you don't mind, do you think I could get your number? I'd like to see you again." He's not looking at me, staring instead at my hand on the table, as if he was scared I'd turn him down. As if!

My happiness renewed, I jot it down and hand it to him, making sure to brush his fingers with my own. He blushes again, but gives me a big smile that changes his whole demeanor.

His delicious brown eyes light up and crinkle around the corners. His teeth are bright white against his tanned skin, and the dimple I see on his unscarred cheek makes me want to dip my tongue into it. Before I can ogle further, he jogs off, leaving me staring at his perfect ass.

I'm not complaining.