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crack_van2009-08-24 04:22 pm
dawnchsr.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2009-08-24 04:22 pm
Entry tags:
Room 12 by Sendal (PG13)
Fandom: Tour of Duty
Characters: Lt Myron Goldman/Sgt Zeke Anderson/Lt Johnny McKay
Length 3204 words
author on LJ: No LJ
author website: Notes From the Underground
Why this is a must read: This story features the one true threesome in Tour of Duty. Sendal beautifully contrasts what goes on between these three men in the privacy of a room hidden from judgemental eyes and the necessary restraint they have to show in their professional relationships as officers and NCO. That restraint is sorely tested when Anderson is badly injured while on a mission. Sendal also neatly turns the tables by having the young officers seduce the older, otherwise more experienced NCO who hadn’t yet dared to act on his attraction to other men.
Excerpt: Not sure he wants to risk his entire military career, Zeke Anderson hesitates at the door with the number "12" elegantly stenciled on it. His hand is raised, but he doesn't knock. He listens hard, but no sounds escape the room--no padding footsteps, no music, no voices. The old hotel, deep in the heart of a discreet neighborhood, lies still around him. Like a tomb, maybe. Like a grave.
No, not like anything dead. The smell of lavender hangs in the air, faint but soothing. The ceiling fan whirls with a tiny wobble to the blades, pushing air down to circulate. The burnished wood of the floor and walls gives off a warmth and elegance missing in most claptrap dives that cater to soldiers. The rugs are rich and intricately woven with vines, flowers and birds. A nice place, all in all. Too nice for a grunt like him.
He should just turn around and head back to base camp.
Instead, he knocks.
Knocks, listens, waits. No sounds from inside. A long moment passes. Plenty of time to regret coming here. A dozen regulations stand between him and what he hopes is behind the door, and if word gets out he'll be ruined by gossip and scorn long before military guards escort him to prison.
He turns to go, and the silver doorknob rotates with a soft click. The door opens.
Throat dry, Zeke meets the brown-eyed gaze of his platoon lieutenant. Myron Goldman is dressed in boxer shorts only. His lean, narrow body is brown from the sun. His nipples are rosy, as if someone had been playing with them. Myron has a relaxed, languid air about him, and the first hints of a smile around his lips.
"You made it," Myron says.
Zeke nods. Myron opens the door wider. The room beyond the threshold is luxuriously decorated with handcrafted furniture, silk wall hangings and a four-poster bed large enough to hold an entire Vietnamese village. Sitting in a bamboo chair with his feet propped up is Johnny McKay, also in boxer shorts, his dog tags gleaming around his neck.
"Good lord," Zeke says. "Both of you."
A smile, a tug, and Myron pulls him into the room.
Room 12
Characters: Lt Myron Goldman/Sgt Zeke Anderson/Lt Johnny McKay
Length 3204 words
author on LJ: No LJ
author website: Notes From the Underground
Why this is a must read: This story features the one true threesome in Tour of Duty. Sendal beautifully contrasts what goes on between these three men in the privacy of a room hidden from judgemental eyes and the necessary restraint they have to show in their professional relationships as officers and NCO. That restraint is sorely tested when Anderson is badly injured while on a mission. Sendal also neatly turns the tables by having the young officers seduce the older, otherwise more experienced NCO who hadn’t yet dared to act on his attraction to other men.
Excerpt: Not sure he wants to risk his entire military career, Zeke Anderson hesitates at the door with the number "12" elegantly stenciled on it. His hand is raised, but he doesn't knock. He listens hard, but no sounds escape the room--no padding footsteps, no music, no voices. The old hotel, deep in the heart of a discreet neighborhood, lies still around him. Like a tomb, maybe. Like a grave.
No, not like anything dead. The smell of lavender hangs in the air, faint but soothing. The ceiling fan whirls with a tiny wobble to the blades, pushing air down to circulate. The burnished wood of the floor and walls gives off a warmth and elegance missing in most claptrap dives that cater to soldiers. The rugs are rich and intricately woven with vines, flowers and birds. A nice place, all in all. Too nice for a grunt like him.
He should just turn around and head back to base camp.
Instead, he knocks.
Knocks, listens, waits. No sounds from inside. A long moment passes. Plenty of time to regret coming here. A dozen regulations stand between him and what he hopes is behind the door, and if word gets out he'll be ruined by gossip and scorn long before military guards escort him to prison.
He turns to go, and the silver doorknob rotates with a soft click. The door opens.
Throat dry, Zeke meets the brown-eyed gaze of his platoon lieutenant. Myron Goldman is dressed in boxer shorts only. His lean, narrow body is brown from the sun. His nipples are rosy, as if someone had been playing with them. Myron has a relaxed, languid air about him, and the first hints of a smile around his lips.
"You made it," Myron says.
Zeke nods. Myron opens the door wider. The room beyond the threshold is luxuriously decorated with handcrafted furniture, silk wall hangings and a four-poster bed large enough to hold an entire Vietnamese village. Sitting in a bamboo chair with his feet propped up is Johnny McKay, also in boxer shorts, his dog tags gleaming around his neck.
"Good lord," Zeke says. "Both of you."
A smile, a tug, and Myron pulls him into the room.
Room 12