Soldier Boys
Title: Soldier Boys
Author: ladygray99
Chapter: 1/1
Pairing: Alan/Colby (yes you read that right)
Rating: FRM
Disclaimer: Not mine, I have no money to give.
Warnings/Squiks: Um...go back and look at the pairing. Plus a little angst.
Summery: Some sounds haunt you, like the clink of a soldier's tags.
Notes: This is completely the fault of boymommytotwo This never even ghosted across my mind until she flat out asked for it at a time when my ego was emotionally vulnerable. That being said I actually put some thought into this so feedback would really be nice.
Beta: riverotter1951
Soldier Boys
Alan watched as Colby contemplated the chess board. The house was quiet of human sound. The clock ticked and the fire, warding off the chill, crackled softly in the hearth.
Colby reached across the board shifting a lone pawn deep into enemy territory.
Alan heard the clink of metal against metal. A thin chain of metal beads ran around the back of Colby's neck and vanished under his shirt.
"You're wearing your tags." It wasn't a question.
"What? Oh, yeah."
"You don't usually."
Colby shrugged. "This last case. We had such a hard time identifying the bodies. I guess they just felt...comforting."
"Understandable."
Alan left the pawn knowing it was a sacrificial offering to try to break his defensive line. He slid his rook against his queen instead.
Colby leaned back to study the board.
*clink*
Alan took his empty beer bottle and Colby's and went to the kitchen. The glass bottles clinked together as he left them on the counter.
Colby hadn't made his move when he returned with fresh ones.
Alan sipped his beer and studied the board. He took another sip and studied Colby studying the board. Colby backed his pawn out.
"Ah, retreating."
"Regrouping."
"Pulling out."
"Never a good strategy."
"Tell me about it. How do you think we got Donnie?"
Colby choked on his beer. Alan put Colby into check.
"You are an evil, evil man, Alan."
Alan smirked and leaned back comfortably "I have my moments."
"I'm sure you do." Colby went back to looking at the board. "So what evil thing are you going to do to me next if I get myself out of check?"
Alan gave a slow smile. "I'm sure I can think of something."
Colby leaned forward over the board.
*clink*
"Are you flirting with me?"
Alan looked at the beer in his hand then down at the chess board. "I don't know. It's been too long. Sorry."
"I don't mind." Colby's knight hopped over Alan's defenses. "Mate." Colby said softly.
"I'm an old man." Alan said to the look of promise in Colby's eyes.
Colby shrugged and leaned forward. His tags clinked together under his shirt.
~
Alan closed his eyes. Laughing green eyes and a mop of honey blond hair swam in front of him. Alan opened his eyes. Colby hovered over him, holding himself up by strong arms, long legs. His tags dangled above Alan's throat.
"What are you doing?" Alan asked.
"I don't want to hurt you."
"I don't care."
"I do."
Colby moved.
*clink*
*clink*
Alan tried to breathe between the clink of Colby's tags swinging in a rhythm nearly forgotten. Nearly. Not Nearly enough. Alan grabbed them, silencing them. He felt the edges cut into his fingers; Colby's name, number, blood type, faith impressed into the soft skin of his hand.
Colby wrapped a hand around them both.
Alan held onto the tags, trying to keep his eyes open, seeing only the face before him and not the one behind him.
He hoped the sound of their shouts would drown out the clink of tags he knows are silent.
~
Alan ran his fingers along the skin of Colby's arm. In one area the skin is thick and raised.
"IED" Colby replied to the unasked question.
"It says something about the world that I know what that is."
"I guess it does."
Alan looked at his palm where Colby's name could still be made out in the skin.
"I had a friend in the Army once." Alan said running his fingers along Colby's blood type.
"Really." Colby replied, watching Alan's fascination with his own palm.
"Draft got him. First number, first day. I told him I'd make out with him at his physical to get him out of it." Colby laughed. "Only time he ever turned that down."
"He went."
"He was a patriot before that word was dirty or dangerous."
Alan tilted his head and watched as Colby's name began to fade.
"Where is he now?"
"MIA. Dead by now. Bottom of a rice paddy or some jungle ravine. They never even found his tags."
"I'm sorry." Alan shrugged. "What was his name?"
Alan rolled over, his back to Colby. "I'm tired. You should let me sleep."
"What was his name?"
Alan sighed and watched as Colby's name disappeared form his hand. "Charles. But everyone called him Charlie."
Marching Home
Author: ladygray99
Chapter: 1/1
Pairing: Alan/Colby (yes you read that right)
Rating: FRM
Disclaimer: Not mine, I have no money to give.
Warnings/Squiks: Um...go back and look at the pairing. Plus a little angst.
Summery: Some sounds haunt you, like the clink of a soldier's tags.
Notes: This is completely the fault of boymommytotwo This never even ghosted across my mind until she flat out asked for it at a time when my ego was emotionally vulnerable. That being said I actually put some thought into this so feedback would really be nice.
Beta: riverotter1951
Soldier Boys
Alan watched as Colby contemplated the chess board. The house was quiet of human sound. The clock ticked and the fire, warding off the chill, crackled softly in the hearth.
Colby reached across the board shifting a lone pawn deep into enemy territory.
Alan heard the clink of metal against metal. A thin chain of metal beads ran around the back of Colby's neck and vanished under his shirt.
"You're wearing your tags." It wasn't a question.
"What? Oh, yeah."
"You don't usually."
Colby shrugged. "This last case. We had such a hard time identifying the bodies. I guess they just felt...comforting."
"Understandable."
Alan left the pawn knowing it was a sacrificial offering to try to break his defensive line. He slid his rook against his queen instead.
Colby leaned back to study the board.
*clink*
Alan took his empty beer bottle and Colby's and went to the kitchen. The glass bottles clinked together as he left them on the counter.
Colby hadn't made his move when he returned with fresh ones.
Alan sipped his beer and studied the board. He took another sip and studied Colby studying the board. Colby backed his pawn out.
"Ah, retreating."
"Regrouping."
"Pulling out."
"Never a good strategy."
"Tell me about it. How do you think we got Donnie?"
Colby choked on his beer. Alan put Colby into check.
"You are an evil, evil man, Alan."
Alan smirked and leaned back comfortably "I have my moments."
"I'm sure you do." Colby went back to looking at the board. "So what evil thing are you going to do to me next if I get myself out of check?"
Alan gave a slow smile. "I'm sure I can think of something."
Colby leaned forward over the board.
*clink*
"Are you flirting with me?"
Alan looked at the beer in his hand then down at the chess board. "I don't know. It's been too long. Sorry."
"I don't mind." Colby's knight hopped over Alan's defenses. "Mate." Colby said softly.
"I'm an old man." Alan said to the look of promise in Colby's eyes.
Colby shrugged and leaned forward. His tags clinked together under his shirt.
~
Alan closed his eyes. Laughing green eyes and a mop of honey blond hair swam in front of him. Alan opened his eyes. Colby hovered over him, holding himself up by strong arms, long legs. His tags dangled above Alan's throat.
"What are you doing?" Alan asked.
"I don't want to hurt you."
"I don't care."
"I do."
Colby moved.
*clink*
*clink*
Alan tried to breathe between the clink of Colby's tags swinging in a rhythm nearly forgotten. Nearly. Not Nearly enough. Alan grabbed them, silencing them. He felt the edges cut into his fingers; Colby's name, number, blood type, faith impressed into the soft skin of his hand.
Colby wrapped a hand around them both.
Alan held onto the tags, trying to keep his eyes open, seeing only the face before him and not the one behind him.
He hoped the sound of their shouts would drown out the clink of tags he knows are silent.
~
Alan ran his fingers along the skin of Colby's arm. In one area the skin is thick and raised.
"IED" Colby replied to the unasked question.
"It says something about the world that I know what that is."
"I guess it does."
Alan looked at his palm where Colby's name could still be made out in the skin.
"I had a friend in the Army once." Alan said running his fingers along Colby's blood type.
"Really." Colby replied, watching Alan's fascination with his own palm.
"Draft got him. First number, first day. I told him I'd make out with him at his physical to get him out of it." Colby laughed. "Only time he ever turned that down."
"He went."
"He was a patriot before that word was dirty or dangerous."
Alan tilted his head and watched as Colby's name began to fade.
"Where is he now?"
"MIA. Dead by now. Bottom of a rice paddy or some jungle ravine. They never even found his tags."
"I'm sorry." Alan shrugged. "What was his name?"
Alan rolled over, his back to Colby. "I'm tired. You should let me sleep."
"What was his name?"
Alan sighed and watched as Colby's name disappeared form his hand. "Charles. But everyone called him Charlie."
Marching Home