Cal grimaced and pressed an already bloody hand against his arm, attempting to staunch the constant flow of blood that had stained the dirt around him an ugly crimson. His squadron had already abandoned the trench he was laying in, not wanting to lose anymore soldiers than they already had. The bodies of his dead comrades were strewn across the thin trench, creating gruesome little hills of soon to be rotten flesh.
He closed his eyes against the pain, biting deeply into his bottom lip. As far as he could tell, the bullet had gone all the way through his arm, but had missed the bone; he could still move it, but not easily. At least the attack has ceased, he thought weakly, mentally slapping himself awake. He knew that there was no chance of survival if he fell asleep, but the pull of a long-needed rest was slowly dragging him down...
Till grumbled a halfhearted complaint, his blue eyes scanning the abandoned trench before him. He had been sent to scavenge for supplies or ammunition, and he had been given orders to kill any survivors. Secretly, however, he had already decided that he would simply ignore the remaining opposing forces and would let them die on their own.
As he carefully picked his way over piles of rotten refuse, a prone body caught his attention. The male was propped up against the wall of the trench, right hand clutched at his left arm. A pool of old blood lay beneath him, soaking his olive green uniform.
As Till made his way to the body, it moved. He stumbled back a bit, shocked to see that the man had not bled out already.
Cal's chest rattled as he breathed, forcing his heavy eyelids open. He had heard something coming closer. Much to his surprise, it was an infantryman, but not one of his own country. The man looked German.
He groaned and adjusted his hold on his arm, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain. "If you're going to kill me, hurry up and do it," he managed to say, hoping that the man had somewhat of a hold on the English language. He didn't know any German.
Before Cal could say anything more, he felt himself starting to drift away from consciousness once more, and he did not struggle this time.
When he awoke, Cal expected to see clouds, a pearly white gate, and a figure illuminated with light from within. Or maybe blazing fire and brimstone with a horned figure looming over him. What he actually saw, however, surprised him.
His eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light provided by a pocket torch, revealing a partially caved-in dugout. The tin roof held strong, but the back end had utterly collapsed, leaving a large pile of rock, dirt, and debris.
When he tried to stand up, a strong hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Do not move. You're too weak," said a man with a strong German accent, the same one that he had seen before passing out. Several questions popped into his mind at that instant, but the only one he could form into words was, "Why?"
The German soldier stared at Cal for a moment. In that moment, the Englishman couldn't help but notice the man's startlingly blue eyes that seemed to look right into him. The black-haired man then looked away, biting his lip. "I do not know. I saw you on the ground, sitting in your own blood, and I knew you would die unless someone helped you. As there was no one around except for me, I decided that I would help you," the man explained, reaching towards Cal and tightening the bandage on his arm. "I'm Till."
Cal sat silently for a moment, processing what Till had done. He owed this man his life, something you definitely do not want to owe your enemy.
"I'm Caleb. Cal. Thank you for saving me, I'm not sure how I could ever repay you," Cal replied, shifting his gaze to the floor. It was hard to believe that a German man had saved him instead of an Englishman, as he had expected. Not one of his fellow soldiers had come back, though. This hurt him much more deeply than he thought it would.
Till sighed and looked away, afraid to tell Cal the real reason he had saved him. Although he would identify as straight outside of the military, his time as a soldier had not afforded many opportunities to be with women, and he had found himself attracted to some of his fellow soldiers. It scared him at first, but he quickly got over, instead feeling sad when he knew that nobody else would reciprocate his feelings. When he had found Cal, he was automatically attracted to the man but knew that he wouldn't feel the same, so he decided to do the next best thing: save his life.
Instead of telling Cal this, Till simply placed a comforting hand on the man's thigh and smiled at him. "You do not have to thank me. It was the right thing to do, yes?"
What happened next surprised Till to no extent. Cal placed his hand atop Till's and leaned closer, his hazel eyes surprisingly clear. "I want to thank you. Tell me what I can do."
Till's throat dried up as he watched Cal, his gaze lowering to the other man's lips. His own lips parted in a breathy sigh when Cal smirked and grabbed his hand, pulling the German man closer until they were mere centimeters apart. "Is this enough?" Cal whispered before kissing Till. He was hesitant at first, but when Till did not pull away, he deepened the kiss, his grip on the man's hand tightening.
Cal was not sure what had possessed him to do this, as he had always been a hit with women, but his months away from society had depraved him of intimate contact. He craved it constantly, and this man with whom he was sharing a kiss did not seem to object, which pushed him further.
With a gentle tug, Cal pulled Till onto his lap so that the German was now straddling him, knees on either side of his hips. His arms went around Till's midsection, pulling their bodies closer together. He could almost feel Till's frenzied heartbeat.
Till could not believe this was happening. As his arms went around Cal's neck, he couldn't help but wonder if this was a dream. A quick lip bite from Cal assured him that it wasn't. He was disappointed when Cal pulled away from the kiss, but it quickly faded when the Englishman placed his lips upon his neck, alternating between kissing and biting the sensitive skin. Till arched his back and moaned, his nails digging into Cal's back.
Remembering Cal's question, Till trailed a hand down the man's chest until it came to rest on his groin, leaning down to whisper, "This is more than enough," before unbuttoning Cal's trousers.
Cal's breathing become short as soon as Till
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