#I just love Burgie and Florence so much like

[izzy-b-hands]

freebooter4ever replied to your post: Loyalty

THIS IS SO SWEET! Burgie is a saint lol

Thank you!!! And aklfsd;dsfj god he is tho. Burgie is the ultimate ally, best friend, and saint to them. Eventually I’m gonna write a fic where they gift him like...a couples spa day for him and Florence or something, where they promise to hold onto their phones for them for the duration, calling the spa only if a major emergency occurs. Otherwise, the power couple is unreachable and relaxing and does not have to worry abt counseling or assisting anyone, even family or found family in the form of their friends lol. They do a good job, but everybody needs a break sometimes. 

[joe-mazzello-archive]

Two Lost Souls

A Eugene Sledge x Fem!Reader fic

Rating: PG

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: references to the war/violence (duh), references to ptsd, panic attack/nightmare, snafu being his crass self, so much awkward flirting, a teeny tiny bit of angst

A/N: okay story time -- one day a few months ago i rewatched the last episode of the pacific and then took a nap and proceeded to have a lovely dream about cuddling with eugene in a train booth and running my fingers through his hair sooooo here we are. i’m extremely nervous to post this as it was a labor of love and it’s almost my first full period piece. i hope you enjoy! also bonus points if you know what book the reader is reading.

moodboard by @brianmays-hair

--

The nightmares started while Eugene was still in Peleliu. Flashes of blood and corpses and metal and dirt. Screaming and explosions, the sound of bodies hitting the ground. But then he’d wake up to the same visuals, the same sounds. His reality was one long nightmare. There was no escape, no end in sight.

Now Eugene was afraid this was all a pleasant dream. No screaming, no blood. From the moment he set foot back on the mainland, he was in constant fear that he’d wake up and be back there. Especially when the nightmares felt so real. Sometimes he didn’t know what was his true reality.

It had taken a while to get the dirt out from under his fingernails, to get the stench out of his hair, but eventually he did feel clean again.

You can’t shower away the memories. Those linger much longer.

Distractions helped. He read, he smoked. He chatted with his fellow marines. He enjoyed the good food he was given, tried to find comfort in the bed he got to sleep in. He thought about Mobile and his parents and Sid and how he’d be home to them soon. He was hyper-focused on everything and anything, knowing that if he let his mind wander, it’d wander right back there.

It’s how he found himself people-watching at the bustling San Diego train station. The boys were prattling next to him about some girl Snafu had gone fishing for, but Eugene was more engrossed in the crowd around them. Sure there were tons of other marines around, but they were mixed in with parents wrangling their children, businessmen with their briefcases, lovers saying their goodbyes.

A flash of dark red caught Eugene’s eye. A woman, probably around Eugene’s age, stood alone on the platform, clad in a burgundy blazer and matching skirt with a brown trunk resting at her feet. Whereas most of the platform was hectic and frazzled, she stood firm and patient, a calmness about her. She seemed unperturbed by the world around her, lost in her own thoughts, her eyes cast downward as she let out a sigh.

She was beautiful.

Not in the way that the nurses back on the island greeted soldiers with their red-lipped smiles and white uniforms. Not in the way that the girls had primped for the Murphy High prom, practically fighting to dance with Sid while not paying Eugene any mind -- which seemed a lifetime ago now. No, this girl was beautiful in a way that Eugene couldn’t put his finger on. She was beautiful in a way that stopped him in his tracks like no girl ever had before.

The whistle of the train finally arriving at the station and a hand on his shoulder pulled Eugene out of his trance.

“Last leg, Sledge,” Burgie commented with a nod towards the train. Eugene replied with a half-smile before following the corporal, Snafu already ahead of them. Sneaking one last quick glance in the direction of where he last saw the beautiful woman, Eugene was greeted with a sea of people - no flash of burgundy in sight. With a sigh, adjusted the duffle on his shoulder and boarded the train, ready to get home.

--

You weren’t a big fan of long train rides. The rumbling of the cars, the confined spaces, the stale air, the bad food -- it was miserable. Last time you’d boarded a train, it had been under bittersweet circumstances - excitement mixed with worry. But three years had passed since you had arrived in San Diego, and after finding yourself jobless with no place to stay, your time in the port town had come to an end.

So you booked your ticket back home, with nothing but your childhood room and your disillusioned parents waiting for you. What a way to make an already miserable form of travel even more miserable.

You found your only solace was in reading. Luckily you had grabbed a newspaper from the stand at the station -- and snatched a book from your sister’s home before you left. You planned on losing yourself in words while the American countryside passed by your window. You had quite the trek ahead of you.

You sat at a table in the dining car, a bottle of barely-sipped cola accompanying the plate of lunch that had been hardly touched. You held the newspaper in one hand as you used your fork to idly push around your roasted potatoes.

“Is your meal alright, miss?” sounded the voice of a slender waiter above you. With a deep sigh, you lowered your paper and plastered a polite smile, meeting the young staff member’s stare.

“It’s just fine, thank you,” you replied, your voice cheery despite your true demeanor. The gentleman nodded before leaving you be, stepping to the next table. As you watched him leave, your eyes drifted across the aisle of the car. A lone marine sat at the table catty-corner to yours, a private first class by the looks of his uniform. His auburn hair was neatly coiffed and a striking nose divided his face. His eyes were downcast, staring out the window, an almost solemn look to him. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, he was handsome - in a genteel boyish way.

But he was no boy. Many of the servicemen you had encountered in the past few years maybe were boys before they left. But being sent overseas to be met with nothing but violence and death -- those boys grew up quickly. This marine was no different. You could see it in the distant look in his eyes. He had seen terrors and lived to tell the tale.

Your thoughts were disturbed by a drawling southern accent behind you.

“Hiya,” the voice greeted. You glanced over your shoulder to find another marine trailing behind a woman. The woman turned at the greeting. “I��m Merriel Shelton. How about I take you to the back and you can show me your caboose?”

You spun back forward, eyes wide and your hand shooting up to cover your mouth, hiding your smirk. And when a resounding slap echoed behind you, a short giggle escaped your lips. The woman stomped down the aisle in a tiff, while the extremely forward marine and his buddy took their seats, joining the lonely marine you had been admiring.

You shook your head at the antics, turning your attention back to your paper. The boys’ voices across the aisle carried over to your side, but you tried to tune them out, not wanting to unintentionally eavesdrop. You urged yourself to focus on the words in front of you, but your ears betrayed you. After reading the same sentence over four times, not digesting a single word, your gaze drifted back over to your marine, who had taken up buttering the biscuit that had been sitting on his plate. His posture and manner had shifted, he seemed more relaxed in the presence of his fellow soldiers. His eyes were soft and friendly, and the ghost of a smile had taken up residence on his face.

“Guess I’m gonna find out soon enough whether I’m getting married or not,” the colonel who sat across from your marine declared wistfully before turning his attention to your marine. “What about you, Sledgehammer?”

You grinned at what you assumed was a nickname. How a seemingly mild-mannered fellow like your marine could have gotten the moniker of “Sledgehammer” was beyond you. Your eyes drifted back to the man, interested in his answer. He seemed to ponder the question for a moment, a flash of uncertainty briefly crossing his face as he picked at his biscuit.

“I’m just hoping this Florence girl comes to her senses,” he finally cracked with a smirk. So he was clever, too. You found that you couldn’t help but smile through the exchange, your gaze dropping back to your lap.

“Got a job lined up in Mobile?” An Alabama boy. That was an interesting development.

“Nah,” he revealed, his apparent uncertainty no longer bothering him. “No job, no girl…no plans.”

You and the lone marine had more in common than you had originally thought.

“How long you think that’s gonna last?” the flirtatious marine from before inquired, relaxing back in his seat. But the laughter of a pair of businessmen passing by your table concealed the marine’s answer. You shot a glare towards the rowdy gentlemen’s backs. How dare they prevent you from snooping on some strangers’ conversation!

Your gaze fell back to the trio of boys, and you couldn’t help but admire the redhead’s smile. The way his eyes lit up with warmth at his friends’ jokes, the way the dimple between his brows appeared and disappeared -- he was beautiful.

You were lost in your musings when for a brief moment, your marine’s eyes suddenly locked on to yours.

His smile fell and a look you couldn’t identify -- confusion? recognition? irritation? -- flashed across the features of his handsome face before you broke the spell and looked back down at your paper. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you stared down at the black ink on the page. How embarrassing. You had been boldly staring at the man for an inappropriate amount of time -- listening to his conversation, no less -- and now you had been caught.

You couldn’t help but think about the marine’s reaction. In the fleeting moment that he held your gaze, it was almost as if he’d seen a ghost. You didn’t want him to think you were some creep or some crazy woman.

You lifted your eyes slightly, glancing across the aisle. Your marine’s cheeks were pink as he gazed back at you softly - but only for a moment before his eyes quickly fell back down to the plate in front of him.

And that became the game you played. As the train chugged through the desert - what you assumed was Arizona - you and your marine took turns stealing glances at each other. First you, then he’d notice and you’d look away. Then he’d stare and you’d catch him. Each time, a rosy color would come to his cheeks and a hint of a smile would appear. Your own shyness began to fade with each time you’d catch him, even throwing him a wink at one point.

After another hour or so, your marine’s friends elected to head back to their coach seats. You assumed your game was over, and you tried to not let yourself be too disappointed. You closed your paper, having finally read every word -- though whether you absorbed any of it was up for debate. You gathered your things, pondering your next move. Maybe you’d wander to the observation car - it tended to be quieter as the sun went down. You slung your messenger bag over your shoulder and were about to step into the aisle when you were met with the sight of your marine, alone once again, staring out the window. Just like the first time you noticed him.

You took a deep breath, channeled your sister’s boldness and took a seat at the marine’s table.

--

It was her. The mystery woman. The beautiful girl clad in burgundy from the train platform was sitting across from Eugene.

It took him a moment to collect his thoughts as he gaped at her. He had spent the last hour stealing glances at her across the aisle, unsure if she was real or simply a vision. Now there she was, close enough for Eugene to reach out and touch her, gazing at him with soft eyes and a friendly smile.

“Hi,” she spoke after a few moments, breaking the silence and Eugene’s daze.

“Hi,” Eugene practically whispered, unable to find his voice. He cleared his throat before starting again. “I do apologize for staring, miss. You know, before.”

The young woman let out a soft chuckle, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, let’s not pretend you were the sole offender, private. I believe I was staring at you first.” Oh how wrong she was. But Eugene would keep that correction to himself.

She offered her name and her hand across the table for a shake, and Eugene almost immediately felt at ease in her presence. She certainly was not like the girls back in Mobile.

“I’m Eugene,” he offered in return, trying to ignore how soft her hand felt in his. She smirked as she let him go.

“So where does ‘Sledgehammer’ come from then?” she questioned with a quirked brow, and Eugene flushed at his nickname falling from her gentle lips.

“My last name. Sledge,” he explained. “Private First Class Eugene Bondurant Sledge, at your service, miss.” His explanation earned a bright smile from the girl, and Eugene decided right then and there that he’d do anything he could to make her smile again.

“Well, pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Sledge,” she said with a nod.

“I assure you, the pleasure is all mine, miss.”

The woman playfully narrowed her eyes at Eugene, as if she were examining him.

“Was all that true? Before?” she asked before pursing her lips.

“Was what true?”

“No job. No girl. No plans,” she recited back to him, adding a twang to her normal voice. Eugene could feel the heat in his cheeks once again. He let out a nervous chuckle and scratched at the back of his neck.

“‘Fraid so, miss,” he responded, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Hope you don’t think less of me.” The woman shook her head as she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

“Of course not,” she assured him. “I just don’t believe you.” She shrugged and cocked an eyebrow challengingly. Eugene was thrown off by her answer.

“You don’t believe me?” he inquired with a furrowed brow. She casually shrugged once again, as if she was making perfect sense.

“No way you can be this handsome and charming and not have a girl waiting for you back home.”

If the young woman was on a mission to make Eugene blush at all costs, she was extremely successful. Eugene shakily laughed as he stared down at his lap, unable to meet her gaze after that.

“My apologies, Mr. Sledge,” she spoke again, and Eugene let himself glance back up to see her timidly looking away this time. “That was awfully forward of me.”

Eugene was so thrown by his woman in burgundy. The prettiest dame he’d ever laid eyes on had gone out of her way to talk to him. Ask him questions. Compliment him. Yet he could see that she was just as nervous as he was. It was disarming in a way.

“No apology necessary, miss,” Eugene affirmed, offering a friendly smile when she met his gaze once again. “I’m just not used to getting attention from a gal as beautiful as you.”

A new game began. Eugene and his woman in burgundy took turns trying to make the other bashful, his confidence rising with every clever quip and retort to her own flirtations.

Eugene wouldn’t realize until much later that he hadn’t thought once about the war the entire evening.

--

“I feel like I should ask,” Eugene spoke up, rousing you from your thoughts. The two of you had relocated from the dining car to the observation car. You had been correct: it was virtually empty at this time of night, and the two of you were enjoying the peace. “Where are you off to?” You gave him a lopsided smile.

“Home,” you replied. “Tallahassee, Florida. Lived there my whole life until a few years ago.”

“Florida, huh? Why we’re practically neighbors,” Eugene commented with a grin. “So how did you end up in San Diego?”

“Few years back, my older sister married some businessman from California. Didn’t even get a chance to meet the man myself before he was drafted and shipped off to Europe.”

Eugene listened intently as you told your story. You knew he understood the horrors of war more than anyone else you’d ever spoken to.

“She demanded I come out to San Diego to stay with her,” you explained. “She’s always had terrible nerves and couldn’t bear to be alone in the house. So I took the train out, got a job at a bond office, and spent my free time keeping my sister away from the radio.” You let out a sigh and let your eyes fall to your lap before going on. “By the end, we assumed he’d be coming home safe and sound. They told us he was shot two days before the ceasefire was called.”

“To say my sister was distraught would be quite the understatement. After locking herself in her room for a week followed by five months of her ignoring my existence entirely, she told me I had until the end of the week to leave. Perfect timing really, since the bond office had terminated me that morning. No more war meant no more war bonds.” You shrugged as you recalled your story, as if it wasn’t such a fresh wound. You chanced a peek at Eugene, expecting a look of pity. But instead you were met with his warm hazel eyes, expressing nothing but understanding.

“So now here I am. Headed home. No job. No man. No plans,” you finished with a wink. Eugene smiled at your quip before turning to gaze out into the darkness.

“It seems like we both deserve to just do nothing for a while,” he suggested. Doing nothing. You quite liked the sound of that.

“Inspired idea, private.”

Eugene’s warm eyes locked on to yours once again, and you swore everything stopped and fell away. Nothing mattered except the marine in front of you, his bright smile, the lock of auburn hair that had fallen out of place. He was beautiful and clever and sweet, and though you knew he was haunted by his past, you’d never hold that against him. Gosh, you knew it was ridiculous, seeing as though you’d only met the man a few hours ago. But there was a part of you that wanted to pull him into your arms and never let go. Be there to make him laugh and make sure he knew he was safe. Listen to his stories and share yours in return. You wanted to do nothing for a while, like Eugene had said, but do that nothing with him next to you.

As you continued to gaze at the handsome man before you, you absent-mindedly tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. And you swore that for a brief moment, Eugene’s eyes fell to your mouth.

You practically lept to your feet, letting out a shaky breath before speaking.

“Well, I’m going to get some shut-eye,” you announced as you collected your things. “I suggest you do the same, private. Or at the very least you should spend some time with your friends before you have to see them off tomorrow.” Eugene, seemingly confused by the suddenness of your exit, nodded a few times before finding his voice.

“Right,” he said, “Well, goodnight.”

You cringed at what sounded like disappointment in his voice. You hadn’t meant to offend him - you just got startled is all.

You offered him a warm smile. “Goodnight, Eugene.”

You spun on your heels and headed for the doorway before you could change your mind and kiss him the way you really wanted to.

--

Eugene didn’t get much sleep that night, but that was nothing new. What changed is what kept him up. Thoughts of his burgundy girl swam through his head most of the night. He replayed every conversation they’d had, half of the time berating himself for what he said and the other half thinking about what he wished he’d said instead.

Snafu made sure to point out the bags under Eugene’s eyes that morning at breakfast.

But Eugene didn’t pay him any mind. He was too busy keeping an eye out for the woman, hoping he could flag her down to at least wish her a good morning.

By the late afternoon, there was no sign of the woman, and Eugene, Snafu, and Burgie had moved back to a booth in the coach car. Burgie was antsy, knowing they were not far out from his hometown of Jewett. He was recalling his excitement to see his little brother again when Snafu interrupted him, tapping his hand on Burgie’s chest.

“Would you look at her,” Snafu drawled out. Eugene glanced over his shoulder to where Snafu was indicating, only to be met with the sight of the very woman who had been on his mind all day, casually walking down the aisle towards him. She had traded out her burgundy ensemble for a cream colored blouse and a navy skirt. Eugene perked up, sitting up straight in hopes of getting her attention. But Snafu was faster, rising to his feet and cutting her off. She was surprised for a moment, but a look of recognition flashed across her face.

“Afternoon, miss,” Snafu greeted as the woman eyed him warily. Then her eyes flitted over to Eugene and a hint of a smile appeared. Then she looked back at Snafu.

“Something I can do for you, soldier?” she asked, arching an eyebrow and folding her arms across her chest.

“Ohh, there’s a lot you can do for me, girlie,” Snafu countered. “Hows about we head somewhere private and I’ll show you?”

Something in Eugene’s chest tightened at Snafu’s words. Sure, he had watched Snafu use line after line on any girl in his vicinity since they boarded the train. Even laughed at the man’s antics at times. But something was different about him putting the moves on his girl--or at least his friend. Acquaintance? Eugene didn’t know what the two of them were.

“Tempting,” she responded, rousing Eugene from his thoughts. “But I think I’m gonna sit and enjoy my book instead. Thank you for the offer, private.”

Snafu seemed confused -- Eugene assumed he was used to either getting the girl or getting a slap. He probably wasn’t used to getting no reaction at all. Snafu plopped back down in his seat, his brows furrowed, and Eugene chanced a look at the woman. She shot him a wink before settling in the booth directly across the aisle from the group of men and pulled out a book.

Eugene fidgeted in his seat -- his instinct was to go join her. But he respected her wishes. Maybe he’d ask her to dinner later.

--

It wasn’t long after you had settled into your booth that you watched Eugene say goodbye to his sergeant.

The mutual respect was evident, and the goodbye was definitely bittersweet. The normally chatty boys fell silent after he left, and Eugene’s far away look returned once again.

Eugene’s flirtatious friend then announced he was headed to the dining car to get a drink, and Eugene simply nodded, his gaze never leaving the window.

You waited until the audacious marine was clear out of the car before you shifted across the aisle to grab his empty seat. Eugene perked up immediately, sitting up and grinning.

“Afternoon, miss,” he greeted with a nod. “Sorry about Snafu before. I think he’s determined to pester every woman on this train before he gets off.”

“Oh, no apologies necessary,” you assured him with a chuckle. “I found it quite funny.”

Eugene’s eyes sparkled as he looked at you. Gosh, you’d almost forgotten how beautiful he was in the sunlight. Those hazel eyes you could just get lost in. You noticed the littlest bit of stubble had formed across his upper lip and around his jaw since last night.

Then you realized you were staring again and you quickly dropped your eyes to your lap out of habit.

“How’s your book?” Eugene spoke up, easing the awkwardness. You appreciated the gesture.

“It’s good so far,” you explained, patting the cover. “Not the most uplifting thing to read on the train, but I’m hoping it ends on a happy note.”

“What’s it about?”

You sighed as you stared at the book in your hands. “It’s about family hardships. Talks about poverty and alcoholism.” You paused to think for a moment before looking back up at Eugene with a smirk. “I don’t mind reading sad stories usually. But I can’t help but wish I’d stolen a happier book from my sister on my way out.”

That earned a chuckle from Eugene.

“Well, I--”

“Now now, what have we here?”

The two of you had been so focused on each other that neither of you had noticed that Eugene’s friend -- you remembered Eugene called him Snafu -- had returned, and was leaning against the side of the booth with a bottle of Coke in his hand.

“Thought you wanted to read your book?” Snafu continued, a playful tone to his voice. He cocked an eyebrow before taking a sip of his soda. You glanced over at Eugene to find him beet red in the face.

“Actually, I was just inviting Mr. Sledge here to grab some dinner with me,” you improvised, not wanting to have to lose your alone time with Eugene. “If he’d like.” His eyes lit up.

“I would be honored, miss,” Eugene replied, getting to his feet and holding a hand out for you. Your cheeks hurt from how wide you were smiling as you placed your hand into his and let him help you from the booth. Eugene looped your arm under his and began to lead you down the aisle when Snafu’s slow, southern dialect called out behind you.

“Oh, I see how it is. Well, don’t have too much fun, you two!”

--

“So what did you miss the most while you were away?”

The question surprised Eugene a little bit. It was the first time she had asked him anything that had to do with his experience in the war.

“My dog,” he replied, his eyes dropping to his half-empty plate. “Closest friend I’ve ever had. He passed while I was gone.”

She nodded in understanding, and Eugene appreciated that she didn’t offer him pity.

“Dogs really are better than humans sometimes.”

Eugene simply nodded as his gaze drifted out the window. Time passing in the pacific had been a blur, even with him keeping track of the days in his notebook. He couldn’t even remember when it was he got the letter about Deacon. Maybe it was sometime during Okinawa? It must have been. He was just so angry --

“Where do you go?” The woman’s voice interrupted Eugene’s thoughts, and he blinked rapidly as he realized he had been zoning out.

“Sorry, what?”

The woman seemed unfazed. She simply looked at him with curiosity, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

“When I first saw you yesterday, you were staring out the window. Eyes glazed over, lost in thought. You’ve done it a few times actually,” she explained. “You drifted off the same way just now. So my question is, where do you go?”

Where to start? Should he sit there and detail the horrors he’d seen? How every second he spent on those islands would flash before him, his brain forcing him to relive the atrocities he’d witnessed and been a part of? And could he even begin to put into words how affected he was? Was it fair to unload his burdens on this innocent girl, who’d brought him nothing but peace since he had set foot on the train platform?

“Back there,” was all he said, hoping it would be enough. It seemingly was, as his dinner date nodded her head once again. A silence settled over the pair, and Eugene couldn’t help but kick himself. If he hadn’t gotten lost in his thoughts before, she wouldn’t have asked and they could have continued their lovely dinner.

“I’m no expert,” the woman spoke up, and Eugene’s eyes locked on to hers. “But I have a feeling it’s going to take some time for you boys to fully leave that place.” The woman leaned forward, and Eugene was struck by how warm and comforting her eyes were. “And in my humble opinion, the world shouldn’t expect you to be okay right away.”

Eugene was blown away. This woman -- this beautiful, funny, clever, smart woman, who’d never set foot on a battlefield in her life -- somehow got it. Sure she hadn’t physically seen the things that Eugene had seen, and she never would, so she couldn’t completely understand. But she respected him and what he’d been through. And not in a superficial way, like when strangers on the street would thank him for his service. But in a way that made him feel seen and heard -- without having to speak a word of the horrors out loud.

With a nod of his head, Eugene finally spoke up.

“I appreciate that,” he said. “Now if only the rest of the world agreed with you.”

--

By the time Eugene and you walked back to the coach car, the sun had gone down completely. You could tell Eugene was beat, and you wondered if he even had slept the night before with how large the bags under his eyes were.

You tucked yourself back into your booth across from the boys, continuing where you left off in your sister’s novel.

The boys were relatively quiet next to you, and you realized after only a few moments that Eugene was out cold, slumbering against his duffle.

It soothed you to see him so peaceful. Your conversation over dinner had confirmed what you had expected to be true: Eugene could put on a face, but behind the facade he was extremely haunted by his time overseas.

It truly wasn’t fair. No one should be subjected to such horrors. Young boys with their futures ahead of them, shipped off to some foreign country, to either die or come back missing a piece of themselves? Tearing families apart and turning cities to rubble? It all seemed so pointless.

You were just one person. Just a simple girl from a small town, lost in your own life, unsure of where the path ahead would lead. But you had a loving heart and a warm embrace. And you’d give them both to Eugene, no questions asked. You could see yourself walking down that path with his hand in yours, figuring out how to navigate the future together. The thought of Eugene being there made it a little less terrifying. And you wanted nothing more than for Eugene to go through the rest of his life never feeling unsafe ever again.

You didn’t know how much time had passed when the train slowed to a stop. You watched as Snafu slowly got to his feet and grabbed his duffle from the bunk, swinging it over his shoulder. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, looking back at Eugene before stepping into the aisle. His eyes locked onto yours and he cocked his head back towards the sleeping marine.

“It’s rare to sleep well these days. Don’t want to ruin that,” he mumbled, clearly feeling like he had to explain himself to you. “I’m not one for goodbyes either.” You offered him an understanding nod and a friendly smile. Snafu returned your nod before heading down the aisle and out the door.

Sometimes you didn’t understand why men did the things they did. But you’d also never be able to understand the connection and camaraderie between servicemen. So you didn’t question Snafu’s decision to leave without waking Eugene.

Another hour or so had passed after the stop in New Orleans when you heard a whimper from across the aisle. Your eyes shot over to Eugene and your heart practically stopped. His eyes were closed tightly, his brow pinched, and he was gripping his own arms so hard his knuckles were practically white. He shook and thrashed in his seat, small cries escaping his lips that seemed to increase in volume each second.

You lept to your feet, throwing your book into your booth behind you before plopping next to Eugene and gently resting your hands on his.

“Eugene,” you whispered, trying not to wake him too harshly. He was clearly having a nightmare, and you didn’t know if trying to startle him awake was the right move. “Eugene, honey, wake up.”

He continued to shake, sweat forming on his forehead and his cries growing louder and louder. You moved your hands to his face, cupping his jaw gently and running your thumbs over his cheeks.

“Eugene!” you spoke louder and suddenly his eyes shot open and he sat up, gasping for air, but your hold on him prevented him from going too far. He blinked rapidly as his chest heaved, trying to get his bearings, but you continued to caress his face, murmuring affirmations to help him.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you,” you assured him. His big, hazel eyes were so sad as they stared into yours, and tears had begun to fall to his red cheeks. He let out a sob and you pulled him to your chest, cradling the back of his head as you wrapped your other arm around him. You held him close to you as he cried, your heart breaking at seeing him like this. You wished you could take every burden away from him. He didn’t deserve this. No one did.

A few nosy guests began to peek over their seats to see what was happening, frowns painted on their faces. As if this poor man’s trauma was an inconvenience to them. You glared daggers at them, and they shied away, slipping back into their seats.

You lost track of time, absentmindedly running your fingers through Eugene’s auburn locks as you held him. You began to softly hum a melody, a song that always comforted you when you were upset. Eugene’s cries began to quiet down, and his body shakes ceased.

Suddenly, he tensed in your arms before pulling away entirely. He wiped at his cheeks roughly as he sniffled, eyes locked on to his lap. You watched him carefully, unsure of what to do.

“Sorry,” he croaked out, his voice scratchy. “I, uh -- um, thank you for…” he trailed off, gesturing towards you with his hand.

“It’s okay,” you replied timidly. You knew he was embarrassed but you wanted to pull him back into your arms and assure him that he had no reason to be. But you waited, wanting him to come to you. His brow furrowed and you could practically hear his brain thinking.

“Now I guess you can see how broken I really am,” he said after a few moments and your heart ached.

“Eugene,” you practically cried. But he didn’t respond, instead turning sharply to face the dark window and letting out a shaky breath.

A tear escaped down your own cheek, your heart stinging at the rejection. But you opted to respect his space. With a sigh, you stood and shifted back over to your booth. You didn’t bother picking up your book, instead deciding to pull your own trunk and coat down from the rack and settling against them, hoping maybe you could get a little sleep.

--

Eugene didn’t bother trying to fall back asleep -- he knew wait awaited him in his dreams. Instead he focused on what he could see out of the train window. The sun eventually rose into the sky, and Eugene could finally see the greenery of Mississippi just before the train crossed the border into his home state.

He hadn’t taken a moment to look over at the woman he knew was still in the booth across from him. He couldn’t bear it. He was so ashamed of her seeing him like that. And then even more ashamed at how he’d pushed her away after she had been so kind to him. She hadn’t needed to comfort him, she had no obligation to do so. Yet she held him anyway. And Eugene had thanked her with a cold shoulder.

As the train pulled into the Mobile station, Eugene’s eyes scanned the platform. He couldn’t help but smile when he spotted Sid, leaning against his car.

Eugene slid out of the booth, grabbing his duffle and throwing it over his shoulder. A small voice sounded next to him.

“Eugene?”

The marine turned to find his woman in burgundy, eyes filled with so much worry, holding out a piece of paper.

“If you want to write. You don’t have to,” she explained, her voice uneasy. Eugene could feel his chest tighten. He hated that he had hurt her, made it so that she was so unsure around him. He gently took the piece of paper from her hand, his finger brushing hers just slightly. He was so tongue-tied, he had no idea what to say to her. So he simply offered her a soft smile and tucked the paper into his coat pocket.

As he made his way down the aisle, Eugene took a deep breath. Maybe one day he’d work up the nerve to write to her. He’d explain his actions and apologize profusely for his behavior. Hope that she’d forgive him but would understand if she didn’t.

But what was the point if he was always going to be broken?

--

You didn’t think you missed Tallahassee. But after settling back into your childhood home, visiting some of your old haunts, and reuniting with old friends, you’d begun to realize its charm.

Now that all the men were home from the war, jobs for women were scarce. You spent most of your time helping your mother around the house or taking walks downtown. Every so often you and some girlfriends would drive down to the beach, but other than that, you didn’t get up to much.

It had been a little over two months since you’d gotten home. You would have been lying if you said you hadn’t checked the mailbox religiously -- each day hoping a letter from Eugene would arrive. You knew the two of you had parted ways rather awkwardly, and you understood if a letter never arrived. But you really hoped you’d hear from him.

You opened the mailbox, only finding some random letters for your father. With a sigh, you headed back inside the house, dropping the letters on your father’s desk before heading down the hall to your room.

You collapsed on your bed with a groan, staring up at the ceiling. You needed to get Eugene off your mind. Maybe some of your friends knew some local servicemen who weren’t spoken for.

You were lost in your musings when a knock sounded at your door. Your mother called your name from the other side.

“You have a gentleman caller, dear,” she explained through the wood. “I didn’t know you knew any marines!”

You sat up with a jolt, eyes wide. Could it be?

“Be there in a minute, ma!” you called out, rushing to your vanity. You quickly checked yourself over, fixing your hair just slightly and patting down your skirt. You cursed at how your bed had wrinkled your blouse, but you didn’t have time to fix it. And if your caller was who you thought it was, you were sure he wouldn’t mind.

You practically flung open your door, pausing in the hall to take a deep breath before stepping out.

You were greeted with the sight of Private First Class Eugene Bondurant Sledge, adorned in his uniform, standing in your living room.

Eugene’s face lit up at your entrance, a huge smile plastered across his face. You grinned as you took him in -- he was even more handsome than you remembered.

“I’m sorry I didn’t write,” he said, breaking the silence. “I needed some time to get settled back home. And I figured you deserved an in-person apology for my actions.”

“Eugene, you have nothing to apologize for, I promise you,” you assured him as you took a step forward. You itched to reach out to him, but you knew your mother was watching nearby. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Eugene was here, in the flesh, in your living room in Tallahassee. You could barely believe it.

“Ma’am? Do you mind if I take your daughter out for a walk around the neighborhood? I promise we’ll be back before supper,” Eugene inquired, addressing your mother, who had been lingering in the doorway of the kitchen. She grinned as she clasped her hands together.

“As long as you promise to join us for supper, Mr. Sledge.”

“It would be my pleasure, ma’am,” Eugene said with a sharp nod. He turned back to you and offered his arm. “Shall we?”

With a beaming smile, you looped your arm through his and let him lead you out the front door.

The two of you walked in silence for a few minutes, soaking up each other’s presence in the warm Floridian air. You nudged his shoulder slightly.

“I was right, you know,” you spoke up.

“About what?”

“You do have a girl.”

--

Permanent Taglist: @queenlover05 @mrhoemazzello @johndeaconshands @sadhwstudent @theblossomknows​ @stardust-galaxies​ @im-an-adult-ish​

[auroralightsthesky]

My love, my life (Jay x OC)

Summary: Jay and Rachel went through hell and back to be together but the years of peace bring something even better than any of them could imagine

Note: Inspired once again by the song “Simple” by Florida Georgia Line, literally cannot get enough of this song!! It’s perfection!! I know it’s not period accurate but I had to include it anyways

Mobile, Alabama: June 6th, 1948

“Ok don’t trip hon,” Jay said as he led her down the small, sloping hill towards the lake on the Sledge property. 

“Jay I swear to God if I trip and fall.....” 

“It’s ok I’ve got you.” 

She kept a hand over her eyes, not knowing what Jay had in store for her. The ceremony earlier in the day had gone off without a hitch but now that night was beginning to fall, Rachel had begun to wonder if he, Sledge and the others were going to prank her with something obscene. 

“Good grief I feel like a paratrooper in this dress,” she laughed. 

“Yeah but you look gorgeous either way,” Jay assured her. 

He wasn’t lying. Her oaken brown hair pulled back out of her face and her wedding dress trailing against the green made her look like an angel walking the earth and Jay, still handsome as ever in his dress blues....could there have been a better pair? 

“How much further?” Rachel asked him. 

“Just a couple more steps hon and you’ll see,” he replied. 

Rachel felt her heart hammering with excitement as they finally stopped. “Can I now?” she asked. 

“Ok hon,” Jay said. “You’re good to go!” 

When Rachel opened her eyes she couldn’t believe it! Not only were her fellow nurses and so many of the other of Jay’s fellow Marines standing there in the renovated barn in the glow of the fairy lights on the ceiling. But so too were their friends from Easy Company and their wives there as well. Her jaw dropped in disbelief as they applauded and cheered for the newlyweds. Luz and Jessica, Sledge and Jenny, Burgie and Florence, Grant and Isabella, John and Lena, Tatum and Eve, Steve and Maryetta, Leckie and Vera, everyone they knew and loved was right there with them. 

Rachel tried to hide the huge grin that broke over her face as she and Jay were nearly swarmed by their loved ones. For a minute she had half expected for Sid and Sledge to prank them with something awful, but this was so much better than she could have ever imagined. 

“Oh my God you all did this for us?!” she exclaimed happily. 

“It took us FOREVER to get everybody together,” Tatum replied.

“I had to write at least forty different letters,” John informed him. 

“And mail them all at the same time,” Lena added as she held onto a squirming two year old Anthony Basilone. 

“But we’re all here,” Steve replied. 

Rachel nearly cried at the sight of their friends and family. These were people who had meant so much to them, their brothers and sisters who would have given each other the clothes off their backs for one another. She looked up at her husband, their eyes beginning to mist over with tears as he led her to the dance floor in the center of the room and began their first dance. Eddie and a few others broke into the song, their voices carrying to the huge timbers that held up the barn with the others joining in to dance. 

“It’s like, one, two three

Just as easy as can be

Just the way you look at me 

You make me smile

Ain’t no need to complicate it

We both know it’s overrated

We’ve been there it’s safe to say it ain’t our style

It’s just that simple, S-I-M-P-L-E

Simple as can be

Just that simple, S-I-M-P-L-E

Simple as can be” 

They danced away without a care in the world, happy that the years of peace had begun for them all. No one cared about the silly antics that ensued during those late hours, John’s crew taking pictures with a camera as they made stupid faces, Leckie’s gang holding Runner up in their arms or Winters pretending to snatch a Vat 69 bottle from Nix’ hands. For that moment they all forgot their troubles as they danced the night away and enjoyed each other’s company, but no one did so more than Jay and Rachel. 

“I love you Jay,” she whispered in his ear as they danced with barely an inch between them. 

“I love you too sweetheart,” he replied. “You’re my love, my life.....my everything.”

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

13 in sexy tropes for Merriell!!

13 is … the secretive brushing of fingertips against inner thighs in public spaces– I got ya ☺️

* * * * *

As you leaned back in your chair, you felt the tips of Mer’s fingers on your knee, an innocent gesture of affection you thought nothing of.

Nor did you really think much of it when his fingers began dancing a little above your knee. You just straightened up in your chair and leaned forward, elbows on the table as you listened to Gene’s girl finish her comical story about meeting Mrs. Sledge for the first time.

As the table burst into a fresh bout of laughter, you finally did start to think a little of it as Merriell’s fingers moved underneath your dress and brushed along your inner thigh.

“Cold, darlin’?” Mer asked as you shuddered with pleasure at his secretive touches, his voice casually arrogant.

“Must be a draft in here,” you said as you turned and gave him a pointed look.

His smile stretched wide as he hooked your chair with his leg and scooted it closer to his.

“I’ll keep ya warm,” he said, his lips next to your ear as he slung one arm across the back of your chair, and rested the other on your knee, just as innocently as a few moments ago.

Gene’s girl met your eyes and smiled at how affectionate Merriell was. To anyone at the table, it just looked like Mer was relaxing into you in a sort of half hug; no one had any idea that his fingers were once again beneath your dress and ghosting along the very sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

When Burgie began recounting his first meeting with Florence’s daddy in Melbourne, you tried to squeeze your thighs shut, but Mer tsked in your ear.

“Do dat,” he whispered, “and I’m gonna finger fuck ya at dis table.”

With a sigh of frustration, you relaxed your legs and let Merriell continue to tease you, the goosebumps popping up along your bare arms making him shift in his seat.

Why he enjoyed torturing himself, too, you’d never know.

You tried your best to listen to your friends, but Merriell’s strong, calloused fingers were painting tiny swirls all along your inner left thigh. The touch was featherlight and you found yourself growing warm as he moved back down to your knee before swirling his fingers back up toward your center. He kept repeating this motion, coming just a fraction of a centimeter closer to your core with each pass.

Occasionally, he stretched his fingers out so you could feel his blunt nails ghost over the neglected skin of your right thigh.

You found yourself shifting in your chair, spreading your thighs a little wider as you hooked your feet around the bottom of your chair, your knees opening obscenely considering you were in a dress.

Merriell chuckled, a vibration you felt rather than heard.

“Been a real nice evenin,” he said to the table with a lift of his brow, “but I gotta be gettin’ ma girl home.”

You licked your dry lips and straightened your dress before standing up to hug the girls goodbye.

“Snaf’s somethin’ else, isn’t he?” Gene’s girl whispered to you, grinning.

“He’s shameless is what he is,” you said loud enough for Merriell to hear.

“Have a good night,” she said with a wink as you shook your head.

“Shameless, huh?” Mer said as he wrapped his arm around your waist and walked you out of the restaurant, his hand slowly sliding lower until it was just resting along the last point of your body that could be considered your back.

“You do know what they say about payback, don’t you?”

“I have heard she’s a bitch,” Merriell said with a soft laugh as he opened your door.

You climbed up into his truck and scootched to the middle seat, waiting for him to get inside the cab. You watched his familiar movements as he cracked the window, started the truck, and twisted in his seat to back out of the parking spot.

As he put the truck in drive, his hand returned to its spot between your legs, but this time, you didn’t need to be a good girl. You turned your body toward him as your hand crept up his thigh, his own fingers stilling as you rubbed his thigh.

You bent your head and bit his shoulder, just hard enough to tease.  

“Baby girl,” he warned.

You ignored him, grinned, and moved your hand higher, rubbing along his thigh until you got to the crotch of his jeans. You ghosted across his package and reached low to give his balls a squeeze.

His hand jerked between your legs, and you rubbed his hardening cock, pulling a moan out of his throat that you knew he didn’t mean to let escape.

He tried to squeeze his thighs shut on your hand, and you laughed.

“Do that and I’m gonna jerk you off right here in this truck.”

Merriell glanced at you and broke, his face splitting into a grin as he removed his hand from between your thighs and undid the button and fly on his jeans.

“Like I’m gonna say no to dat,” he said, his curls rustling in the breeze from the cracked window.

You gave his shoulder another loving bite and reached into his pants, sliding your hand over the velvety smoothness of his cock.

“I love you, Mer,” you said, giving him a few slow, teasing pumps.

“I love ya, baby girl. Dat’s fo’ sure,” he said as he relaxed into your touch, his green eyes trained on the road as you smirked before dropping your head into his lap and finishing him off good and proper.

[lilliputianmerriell]

19 & 21

Thank you for the ask! Like the last one, I wanted to give this a good, hard think because I just can’t give a simple, straight answer, can I? The answer must be a reflection of my gay ass after all lol.  

19) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?

There are actually several ones that I’ve been considering writing sequels to. Not all are fully formed ideas though, but I can think of three on top of my head:

-          Take my life and set me free again is one I wrote for Sledgefu week the first time around, I think (?). It’s a really whumpy fic for the prompt “wounds” and kind of gives a glimpse of how said wounds has affected Snafu and Sledge’s life. It’s one of the fics that I am personally the most happy with and I have always thought about writing a very angsty origin story for it – which I have a draft to somewhere, but considering all my ongoing projects probably won’t become more than that unfortunately…

-          You’ve been fighting the memory all on your own is another Sledgefu week one I wrote back in 2018. While it was to fill the “college AU” prompt, I kind of left hints and suggestions to it actually being a reincarnation AU which I have been very tempted to write fully. I love writing scenes with life-changing revelations and such, so it’d be fun to write one where Sledge and Snafu of the college AU would slowly come back to their original selves – but then again, would that ruin the mystery of the whole thing? Who knows.

-          The truth runs wild like the rain to the sea is my Snurgie  magnum opus – lol, joking, but it IS my lengthiest Snurgie fic to date (discounting the fact I’ve been sprinkling FRtoB with Snurgie here and there – it’s the gay agenda, what can I say). And while I really enjoyed writing that, it takes a long time to set Snurgie up convinclingly, and now that I have done that I really want to play more with the gay angst, domesticity and just coping, you know? The idea I have is that it would pick up where I left of and have it play out by the Pacific as Burgie says goodbye to Florence, and all the things that it would cause and transpire – maybe even write it from Snafu’s perspective? Endless possibilities, that is for certain.

-          Future runs through our bones has more of a spin-off than a sequel. It’d be easier to promise a sequel if I had actually finished the original fic, but I am not perfect lol. BUT, since I AM a bitch for Snurgie and I have decided that FRtoB is Sledgefu end-game, I wanted to give Snurgie the spin-off they deserved by writing something very dark and super angsty. Funnily enough, I have almost finished the damn thing, but I just need to sort out some stuff for it and settle for some details for it myself before I can declare it finished. If I will upload it though, that is another matter because I honestly am a bit worried it is too much as it handles some very dark themes… but once I have decided I will be the first to announce it, especially if I do actually decide to publish it lol. 

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

For writers who’s written for the Pacific fandom, the first people that comes to mind for me is @snafusheltoneyes, @scrapeourshoesonthestars and @getmean. They are all very talented writers who always build very interesting narratives for their characters, which are always very on-brand and true to life (according to how they are portrayed in the series). They always have water-tight plots as well and you can tell they’ve done their research in advance, which I admire because I know how much work goes into that. They are also really nice and genuine people, which is maybe what I admire about them the most. Bonus is that they have all been around for as long as I have, so I am not the only oldie around lol.

[airsignss]

Y’all want me to talk about Gene and Snafu’s daughter? Bc i wanna talk about their daughter.

In my god forsaken modern au, i always see them like legit married as husbands, rings and paperwork and all in like 10 years. Putting Gene at we’ll call it 36 and Snafu at 38ish. So they have been in each others orbit for nearing 20 years at that point.

Gene, ever the do-gooder, starts to work with kids bc his papa instincts have begun to kick in and he needs an outlet since Snaf never really talked about kids seriously only in abstract “one day, Genie.”

Catholic Charities in New Orleans has the best reputation and the most orphaned children in the care so he begins to volunteer there. He knew choosing Catholic Charities would also make his mother happy.

He spends time there for about a month and in that time falls head over heels for a little girl, about 3 years old, named Brigid. He notices her bright red hair in a similar shade to his own but it is in ringlet curls and she has the biggest, bluest eyes he has ever seen. She is the most adorable child he has ever laid eyes on.

The sister who runs the program notices how taken they are with one another and suggests Gene look into adopting her since she had no living relatives to claim her. He says he would need to convince his husband, but he had been considering that already. (Again this is in like a decade, in an alternate universe, where in my head things are a bit more progressive)

His plan was to get Snafu down to help on a Saturday with him. Gene considered it a miracle that he was able to convince him. He was glad he was coming in general, but his real goal was to see if Snafu had the same pull to Brigid as he did.

Of course he took to her right away. Gene was overjoyed to see the bond that formed over the course of the day. He almost seemed pained when they had to leave at the end of the day. That night, after dinner Snafu brought up the idea of getting a kid. Gene could only smile, because he knew which kid Snafu wanted.

From start to finish their adoption process for Brigid took 2 1/2 years. Getting approved was the longest part, but her case went through relatively quickly once it reached the judges desk. Brigid Margaret Walker became Brigid Margaret Sledge a week before her 6th birthday.

Gene’s family came to New Orleans to celebrate her joint Gotcha Day and Birthday party, as did Burgie and Florence with their kids, and Sid and Mary with their family. Snafu’s Mom and Sister came, as well as his best friend from childhood Roe and husband. Brigid had gone from no family to one larger than she could have ever imagined. She would never lack love or support again.

As she grows up, she becomes a mixture of her dads. She is introspective and thoughtful like Gene, and a snarky little shit like Snafu. They wouldn’t want her any other way though.

She loves the color yellow, and has to wear it in some form every day.

Snafu got her a kitten for her 7th birthday and a puppy for her 8th.

Its just so cute and soft and domestic and i love this so much

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

How bout “Are we really gonna do this in public?” And “Someone’s gonna hear you.” For which ever character these spark your writing muses for. 😁😉

We both know who these prompts were made for 😉 I hope you enjoy! 

Warning: Smut below the cut 💓

* * * * *

“Gene—this place is amazing!” you gushed, wrapping up your childhood friend in a tight hug.

Gene laughed in your ear and the sound filled you with a warmth that rivaled the heat radiating from the huge fireplace in the center of the ski lodge.

“It’s good to hear you laugh,” you said as you grasped his upper arms and looked over his face, taking in the way his eyes sparkled.

“It’s amazin’ what a change of scenery can do for a fella.”  

“I’m glad you invited me.”

“Let me introduce you to the rest of the gang. This is Burgie and his gal Florence. Bill, Jim, and Charlie and his sister Candace. That’s Marilyn and her cousin Frances in the corner chattin’ up the ski instructors. And this is Snafu.”

You smiled and said polite hellos until your eyes reached the last of Gene’s friends and you suddenly found yourself without even the simplest of words. You knew your cheeks flushed at the way the man looked at you as if he were peeling back each layer of your identity so he could take a peek at the part of yourself kept the most hidden away. You’d never really met anyone who could look at person like that—or maybe it was just you because everyone else seemed unaffected by his presence.

Doing the only thing you could, you gave him a small wave and turned back to Gene to ask which room you would be staying in. He hopped around the counter and produced a key for a room on the third floor.

“It’s small, but it has the best view,” he grinned.

You thanked him and waved off his efforts to carry your luggage upstairs. As you walked by the mantel Snafu was leaning on, you could feel his eyes on you, taking in every step of your movement.

When you slipped the key in the lock, opened the door, and shut it behind you, you felt such an immense amount of relief that you sighed and dropped your bags right by the door.

And then, with a sharp intake of breath, you looked out of the spectacular window that framed the outermost wall of your room. Gene was right—it was small, but the view was breathtaking. You could see snow for miles and miles; the trees were coated with it and the mountains were a greyish blue in the background with snow-covered tops, just like in magazine pictures.

The cold was a welcome change from the dull warmth of the south in winter. You’d only ever really seen snow once when you were a child. An anomaly of a storm came through and snowed six inches, effectively reducing Mobile to a state of chaos for nearly a week.

But this, this kind of white brilliance as far as the eye could see was breathtaking. You wanted nothing more than to don your snowsuit and jump in it.

And as it turned out, over the next few days, you did get intimately acquainted with the snow as you fell down time and time again while learning to ski. You were starting to grow concerned for the state of your backside, as you were now certain that the bruise on it was never going to heal.

As it turned out, though, the mysterious Snafu picked up skiing like it was in his nature. When you fell for the third time in as many minutes, he extended his hand to help you back up.

“I feel like we haven’t been properly introduced,” he said, his voice a soothing bass, startlingly masculine for his small frame.

“I’m Merriell Shelton. Snafu to Sledge n’ the boys, of course.”

“Southern Louisiana?” you asked, recognizing the Cajun accent.

“Yes ma’am,” he said as he finally wrestled you into a standing position.

“Thank you. This is a lot harder than it looks. How long have you been skiing?”

“Bout as long as you,” he said with a dazzling grin.

“You’re lying.”

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

“Swear on my momma’s grave.”

“Fuck,” you said, eliciting a deep laugh from the Cajun that you knew, instantly, you wanted to hear again.

“How ‘bout I stick with ya? Try to teach ya at least as much as I’ve learned so far?”

“Thank you, Merriell. I would appreciate your attention since the ski instructors have clearly already chosen their favorites,” you said glancing up the hill at Marilyn and Frances, skiing slowly, side by side with the instructors, laughing as they learned to turn their skis to a point and come to a stop, something they had neglected to teach you.

Merriell followed your gaze but said nothing, and instead, pulled you back to catch the rope that led up the bunny slope.

Merriell was an excellent teacher. He was patient, and just laughed on the two occasions you managed your get your skis tangled and ended up taking him down with you. By the end of the day, you had conquered the bunny slope and the least steep beginner’s trail.

“Success!” you cheered, sliding to a stop as Merriell waited for you at the bottom, that same wide grin on his face, his teeth flashing just as brilliantly as the snow, his skin a gorgeously dark contrast made even more pretty by the way the cold turned his cheeks and nose a little red.

“How ‘bout we celebrate with dinna and a drink?”

“Gene doesn’t have anything on the agenda for tonight?”

“He may—but I’m suggestin’ we make our own plans.”

You bit your lip and looked into those overpowering green eyes, so bright as they reflected the last light of the sun as it hit the snow.

“Alright. I need to change into something much less … wet.”

“Let’s get you outta dem skis,” he said, leaning over to pop your boot loose with his pole.

About an hour and three dress changes later, you met Merriell in the living room of Gene’s lodge. He was dressed in dark grey slacks and a green turtleneck sweater that made you want to drag him straight up to your room so you could beg him to fuck you against all that glass as you watched the last of the skiers’ runs down the mountain.

Your final outfit seemed to have the same effect on Merriell as you watched his eyes unabashedly look at you from head to toe.

“Stunnin’,” he whispered as you approached, pulling a shy smile from you.

“Not so bad yourself.”

“I know. I could tell I picked the right sweata by the way ya looked at me.”

Your mouth popped open, completely knocked off your game by the way he read your body language and by the way he was arrogant enough to tell you about it.

“Catchin’ flies now, are we?” he said as he reached out to push your chin up and close your mouth.

“Let’s go to dinner,” you said slowly after taking a breath, looking at Merriell Shelton as if he were the first genus of an entirely new species of man.

Dinner was nothing more than foreplay, both of you flirting, laughing, and using any excuse at all to touch each other until you finally said, “Merriell—I have to be honest. I’ve never been so interested in a man so suddenly before. You’re quite … special.”

For the first time that night, you managed to say something that really surprised him, and he turned shy.

“I’m nothin’ special, Y/N. I just like ya. Sometimes, it’s nice to let someone know instead of havin’ to play all the games.”

“I don’t want to play games,” you said, your hand reaching beneath the table to grasp his thigh. “In fact, I don’t want to wait a minute longer to show you that I do think you’re special.”

Merriell’s eyebrows shot up, clearly taken aback by what you assumed was a role reversal. You were certain it was always Merriell Shelton doing the initiating, but there was something, something about him that gave you the confidence to tell him you wanted him, needed him.

You leaned forward, your hand still grasping his thigh, and when your faces with only a breath apart you whispered, “Kiss me.”

And he did.

It was a soft, close-mouthed kiss, but you worked to memorize the way his lips felt beneath yours, around yours, but before either of you could deepen the kiss, your waiter cleared his throat.

“Your check, I presume?”

You had forgotten you were in the middle of a dimly lit, romantic, but extremely busy restaurant.

“Oh,” you said, leaning back into your chair as Merriell chuckled and pulled out his wallet.

“Yes, sir. We’d like the check.”

The waiter disappeared, and you dissolved into a fit of giggles, hiding your blushing face behind your hands.

“Merriell—I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. My mother, god love her, was probably just struck with an inexplicable desire to clutch her pearls.”

Merriell laughed and laid his arm across the back of your chair as you picked up the last of your drink and drained the glass, a smile still on your lips.

The waiter returned and Merriell paid for your dinner. You took an extra few dollars from your purse and left a large tip.

“Atonin’ for scandalizin’ the serva?”

“I think so, yes,” you said laughing again as Merriell chuckled and pushed in your chair.

“I think there’s somethin’ else I need to teach ya,” he said, a wicked gleam in his eye as he seemed to regain the upper hand, your assertiveness feeding his own.

Merriell took your hand and led you to the restroom at the far end of the restaurant. It was large and fancy and clearly marked as the ladies’ room.

He swiftly locked the door behind him, and you marveled at the fact that it was unoccupied.

Merriell read the expression on your face and smiled, “Must be fate.”

You shivered as you moved closer to him and dropped your coat on the little couch in the center of the outer powder room.  

“Are we really gonna do this in public?”

“Ya wanna wait?”

“No,” you said wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers bunching in his sweater as you pulled him closer for a real kiss.

It was clear within minutes of kissing that Merriell Shelton was born to do just this—to defile ladies like yourself in restrooms, in train cars, in taxi cabs, anywhere he fucking liked. The man had you worked up into such a frenzy with just his lips and his tongue, that you moaned loudly at the thought of what he could do with his fingers or his cock.

He laughed softly as he pulled his lips off your neck and said, “Someone’s gonna hear you.”

“I can’t bring myself to care,” you said your eyes clouded with desire as you palmed him through the front of his trousers, your nails scratching along the bulge of his cock as a moan then escaped his throat.

He pushed you over to the sink and lifted you on top as your hands worked open his trousers. His fingers slid up your dress and swiftly pushed aside your panties, his grin wolfish as he felt how wet you were.

When he slid a long, thick finger into your center, you clenched around him and you both moaned at the sensation.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect,” Merriell breathed, his forehead resting against yours as you scooted to the edge of the sink, aching for him to fill you up.

“Show me—show me how perfect I am.”

Merriell pulled back and looked at you, his eyes roaming your face, his gaze stripping away any remaining inhibitions, leaving you feeling just as raw as you felt the first time he had ever looked you.

He pulled his finger out and swirled your wetness over the tip of his hard cock. He pulled you even closer to his hips and you wrapped your legs around him as he slowly slid into you, inch by inch until you could feel him bottom out.

Your leaned back and you sighed with content, squeezing around him and encouraging him to move.

“Show me,” you demanded again.

And Merriell Shelton moved, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you. He fucked you at a steady pace, both of you ignoring the delicate, intermittent knocks on the door. In the back of your mind, you knew that someone would tell someone on the staff eventually, but you prayed to god it wasn’t before your orgasm.

Merriell shifted his hips and pulled your panties further to the side, allowing him to work your swollen clit with his thumb. A few quick, hard circles of pressure was all you needed and you were coming on his cock, his hand pressed against your mouth to stifle your moans. He slowed down and let you come, but as soon as your breathing evened out, he pulled you against him and fucked you, bouncing you off the sink as he chased his orgasm.

You were so excited by the way he fucked you, another orgasm began to build with each brush of his cock against your inner wall, and when he bit down on your shoulder to stifle his own groan of pleasure as he came, you yelled his name when stars burst behind your eyes, completely giving away just what was going on inside of the ladies’ restroom.

As you heard the turn of a key in the lock, you and Merriell scrambled to put yourselves in order. His cum filled your panties as you hopped off the sink and yanked your dress into place while standing in front of him as he zipped up his trousers just as the door burst open with your poor, poor waiter being the one who had retrieved the key to unlock the door.

“I should’ve known,” he groaned, standing aside to let you and Merriell rush out the door, your laughter echoing as you dashed out of a restaurant you knew you could never show your faces in again.

“So,” you asked, turning to face him as you reached the snow-covered walkway outside of the restaurant, “your room or mine?”

Merriell scooped you up, the snow falling heavily and quickly, and spun you around until you giggled.

“I hear ya room has the best view.”

“It does,” you said with a wicked grin, thinking back to the idea of Merriell Shelton fucking you against that big, gorgeous window.

“And I think I know a way we can make it even better.”  

[izzy-b-hands]

Loyalty

No idea where this came from, or why. Was sitting here bemoaning that I didn’t know what to write and nothing was coming, and then THIS!

This is set in the Modern AU, though there’s nothing in particular to designate it that other than my saying so and that’s how it played out in my head as I wrote lol. In a particular version of the Modern AU where they live in the same city in Texas as Florence and Burgie.

TW for allusions to suicide and PTSD, though nothing is mentioned real explicitly.

Fic title comes from the Kendrick Lamar song, because he’s all I was listening to while I wrote this, and I figure the word fits the sort of idea/theme in this in a weird way. Particularly the line ‘all we ask is trust’ because trust is definitely a Topic in this one. 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“He’s worried about you.” 

Snafu shrugged. “He shouldn’t bother.” 

Burgie sighed and dropped down onto the bar stool beside him. “You gotta stop this shit. The hell scared you now?” 

“The fuck do you mean?” 

Burgie damn near growled, mean, and he usually didn’t get that way with friends unless he was drinking, but he hadn’t touched the beer Snafu had ordered for him as soon as he saw him walk in. 

“You know very well ‘the fuck’ I mean, Merriell. You claim you want to be close, you want to be a good boyfriend, maybe even his husband someday? Then you gotta get over this gettin’ scared shit you do. Last time, you freaked out because he wanted you to go to some university function with him, and he went alone, and left early and called me in tears. Time before that, he tried to set up a nice vacation for y’all, that you both needed and deserved. You got scared he’d somehow fall in love with someone in that city that he’d meet, and claimed work wouldn’t give you the time off, and he knew that shit wasn’t true, and that hurt. So what is it this time?” 

“Like he doesn’t do the same shit to me.” 

Burgie sighed deeply. “I’m not saying he doesn’t. He does, and I need to talk to him about that too-” 

“Then go do it! If you’re so concerned with making this relationship your problem.” 

“Goddamn it, Merriell!” Burgie’s fist slammed the counter, and Snafu and half the club near them jumped a foot. “Shut the fuck up for two minutes, no more snide fucking come backs, and let me tell you what I see if you two dumb fucks break up for good.” 

He set his beer on the counter, and stared at Burgie. His friend’s face was red, his mouth twisted in a frown so angry it hurt to look at. Burgie had never been truly mad at him or Eugene, ever. 

“Before you two got together, y’all were messes. I know, cuz I’m the dumb ass that picked up every time one of you would call me, sobbing and scared and alone, which made me scared for you. And I knew if y’all got back together, it would be something like it was during the war, something good; two rocks adrift in a sea that can drift together and find shore, or break apart and let the surf wear them to nothing. Together, you both find shore. Apart...” 

Burgie sighed. “That’s why I urged y’all to meet up again. I knew I’d be attending funerals if I didn’t, and I can’t take another one. Another service revolver that should have been taken away but wasn’t, and another mother asking me if I’ll come over and help clean the wall in her boy’s room because the father can’t stomach it and she can’t bear to do it alone.” 

“My parents are dead.” 

“So then I’d be cleaning your bedroom wall alone,” Burgie replied. “I won’t do it, Merriell. For you or Sledge. You’re both better and smarter than you’ve been acting, in general and with each other.” 

“It isn’t that easy-” 

“You think I don’t fuckin’ know that? What the fuck do you think Florence and I talk about in therapy when we do our sessions together? We go over that shit, what scares us, what we worry about with each other, and you know what we find out every time?” 

Snafu shrugged.

“That our fears are irrational, borne of trauma and confusion and other things in our lives we hadn’t come to terms with yet. I’m not saying therapy would solve everything, but I gave Sledge the number for ours. She does Skype sessions, though they cost a bit more, in case y’all ever move like you keep talkin’ about. It might be worth it for you both.” 

He shrugged again, and bore holes into his beer as he stared at it. 

“I know you don’t wanna break up with Sledge, and I know he doesn’t wanna break up with you. You wanna know why?” 

The tears burned at the corners of his eyes, and he couldn’t respond. 

“Because neither of y’all ever pack a bag, or even take your fucking wallet with you. You didn’t this time, did you? Just a few twenties to pay for the drinks, right?” 

Snafu pulled the two twenties and fifty out of his jeans pocket and showed it to him, then put it back. 

“See? And then one or both of y’all call me and ask me to talk to one or both of y’all, and I come by to help you, and as soon as you both sit and talk through what weird shit is in your heads, you feel better and things go back to normal. You just gotta do that with each other, without me. Or with the therapist, but definitely gotta learn to do it without a third party too. It isn’t actually difficult, exactly. It’s just...being vulnerable.” 

“What if he doesn’t like me like that?” 

Burgie’s eyes softened, and the frown disappeared. “Why wouldn’t he?” 

Snafu shrugged. “I don’t like me like that. It feels weird to cry in front of him.” 

“But you did during the war. I know, I watched it happen.” 

“That was different.” 

“Why?” Burgie stressed, leaning towards him, taking one his hands in his. “Or did you just not think about it because of where you were?” 

It was like a light bulb flickering in his head. “...yeah. I guess so.” 

“Okay. So what makes you feel like anyone could see you at home with him, talking shit out and crying if you need to?” 

“I...I don’t know.” 

Burgie nodded. “That’s okay. You can figure that out later. You got time. You just can’t let it take over your head, y’know? Or let those nonsense fears that you know won’t ever be true or come to pass take control. You gotta focus on what you know is true. Tell me.” 

“What?” 

“Bout you and Eugene. What’s true, about you two.” 

“...I love him. He loves me.” 

Burgie nodded again, encouragingly.

“He makes me feel safe, and I do the same for him. We can both sleep without nightmares when we’re together. I don’t worry about anyone breaking in to kill us as much when he’s beside me at night. He likes to read to me, and I like to hear him read, even his stupid textbooks that are boring as shit. I like the chores he doesn’t, and vice versa so we always have an easy time keepin’ the apartment clean. He buys fresh flowers for me, but knows to keep ‘em in the high vase mounted on the wall where the cat can’t get ‘em, so she won’t eat ‘em and get sick. And I make sure he takes breaks when he studies, otherwise he won’t eat or move and that’s not good for him, and I know he knows that, but he gets goin’, ya know? And-” 

Burgie’s hug was warm and soft and made the tears finally fall. 

“Let’s get you home, and go talk to Eugene, okay? He needs to hear all that, and I know he’s got a bunch of the same sort of stuff to tell you.” 

“You think that therapist has openings sooner rather than later?” 

“She let me set up the first appointment for y’all, though you gotta fill out a bunch of paperwork that day so they can finish gettin’ you set up in their system. But I got y’all in next week.” 

The tears fell all the way back home, in the passenger seat of Burgie’s truck, and fell even harder like a summer storm when Eugene met him on the sidewalk of the apartment building property, running out to hug him so hard it took his breath away.

“I’m sorry.” 

“So am I.” 

“I’m ready to do better. For both of us,” his voice shook as he let his head rest on Eugene’s shoulder. 

“Me too.” 

The scent of the tulips Eugene had bought him greeted them as they walked inside to their apartment, Burgie right behind them, and it smelled like spring and freshness and a new start. 

Tulips would be a good wedding flower, for later. For a spring wedding, when they were ready and healthier and happy and doing better overall. He’d make sure the church (for Eugene, with his religious family) was full of them. 

He couldn’t wait for it all, the work towards better as hard as it would be, and the wedding. 

They were going to be okay. 

[izzy-b-hands]

Fictober 2019, Oct. 1st, “It will be fun, trust me.”

Fanfiction

Fandom: The Pacific

Pairings: Eugene “Sledgehammer” Sledge/Merriell “Snafu” Shelton

Warnings:None, except for maybe some drunken silliness from all three boys. They’re celebrating being home and imbibing a bit more than they might usually.

Rating: T

2,867 words

For those who’ve not read my Sledgefu/The Pacific works before, a note that this is based off the TV version of these people, no disrespect is meant towards the actual veterans, this is just taking the television version of things for a bit of fun.

Also wanting to note here is that this sort of a Mini AU? Burgie, Sledge, and Snafu get stuck in a random town on their way home when the train breaks down (and can’t be repaired right away because....reasons I did not bother to invent. So we’re gonna say Train Problems and leave it at that.) 

“No.” 

“Burgie, c’mon.” 

“Abso. Fuckin’. Lutely. No. I love you both, but I do not trust either of you as far as I could throw you, and I could throw y’all pretty far if I so chose to,” Burgin replied, and continued stomping down the road. 

“I know you’re mad, but no one’s happy right now. Let’s find some place to stay, then go-” Eugene started.

“I said no,” Burgin grumbled, interrupting him. “We’ll just get into trouble we don’t need.” 

“You don’t know that. All we’re suggesting is a little bit of bar-hopping. Phoenix seems interesting, and if we’re stuck here we might as well explore. You really gonna tell me you don’t wanna at least look around?” Snafu called. “You gonna miss out if you don’t come with us. It will be fun, trust me.” 

Burgin stopped, and turned on his heel. “Hotel first, then we can talk about it, okay? But if we don’t get a room now, there won’t be any left.” 

“This is a big city-” Snafu smiled, but Burgin held up a hand. 

“That is now full of returning soldiers, all of which need somewhere to stay for the night. We gotta move, consider this a mission.” 

“Burgie, leadin’ us again,” Snafu giggled. “What’s next? A mission to find dinner?” 

Burgin bit back a smile, though he knew both Eugene and Snafu had caught sight of it. “Yes, soldier. Are you equal to the task?” 

Snafu’s laughter echoed down the street as they ran to the first hotel in sight. Inside was a mess of soldiers, all clambering to get near the front desk, where a very tired-looking young woman stood. As they entered, she carefully climbed and stood on the marble counter of her desk.

“Everyone! Shut it, and listen up! I have five rooms left. The rest of your friends have already gotten the rest, in addition to our regular guests who are not happy with all this noise! It is ten at night, if none of you remember how to look at a clock! If you wanna leave now, and try your luck at another hotel, then head out now!” 

A decent portion of the crowd of soldiers, grumbling, walked out at that. 

“Okay. Now, if you wanna stay, and put your name in the drawing for the last five rooms, then sign up on this paper here! I’ll be pulling names in ten minutes, so move fast!” 

“...she coulda been a Marine,” Snafu smiled as they took their turn at the sign in paper. “You hear that yellin’? Put my old drill sergeant to shame.” 

“Just think lucky thoughts so we don’t gotta go runnin’ around town looking for somewhere else to stay,” Burgin instructed. 

“Don’t got any others, Burgie.” 

“Bullshit. I’ve played cards with you, nothin’ lucky about that,” Burgin replied with a smile, even though he was damned nervous. He certainly hadn’t come home just to wind up finding a bus shelter to sleep in for the night. Hell, he’d share the bed with both Shelton and Sledge so long as there was a bed. 

“That’s a fair point,” Eugene said as Snafu frowned. “You just get bad hands, that’s all.” 

“You’re sweet,” Snafu sighed. “Burgie’s right though. Still a bunch of guys in here, what’re our chances of gettin’ a room?” 

The receptionist, looking like she wanted to just stop everything and take the longest nap possible, was stood on her desk again. “Room 109-Thomas, Stevenson, and...lord, the military didn’t teach none of you handwriting, did it? I think this is Carmichaels?” 

“You got it pretty thing!” came a call from the crowd. 

If looks could kill, Carmichaels would have been dead, but she still handed over the room key to the three soldiers. 

“Room 115-Jacobs, Thompson, and...Thompson?” 

“We’re brothers!” an elated cry as the three boys pushed through the crowd to the desk. 

“Delightful,” the receptionist replied dryly as she handed over the key. 

“Room 120-Well, look at that. Handwriting I can read. Burgin, Sledge, and Shelton. Please no smart comments, or I am not responsible for what I do next!” 

“Hear that Shelton? Keep quiet,” Burgin teased as they pushed through the crowd. 

“Hear that Burgin....uh. Shit. You ain’t lookin’ for girls anymore, I got nothin’ on ya,” Snafu replied. 

“Neither are you,” Eugene snickered. 

“Yeah, you know I’m not,” Snafu said warmly. 

Burgin thanked her for the key, and led them down the hall towards their room, feeling for all the world overwhelmed. He couldn’t wait to sit down for even just a moment, and be out of the noise. 

The room was nicer than he’d expected. Two beds, a small end table and a chair in one corner, and enough space yet to toss down their barrack bags. It could have had just a blanket and a pillow, and he would have been happy. 

He dropped onto one bed, and watched as Snafu and Eugene....just stood there. Nervously glancing at the other bed like it was about to eat them. 

It clicked, right then. He knew, but he realized they didn’t know that he knew. He’d figured since Peleliu, but hadn’t gotten confirmation of just what he figured out about them until the day they’d left from Okinawa for China, to start the last six months of clean up from the war. 

They’d been on the beach, far away from everyone. He’d gone searching for them, to make sure they didn’t miss the call to get on the boat to head out. He figured they’d be set aside somewhere talking, and smoking, and potentially...other things, but he hadn’t figured he’d ever witness it. 

He had though, both of them looking as soft and delicate as he’d ever seen them, standing in front of the water, kissing like it was all they knew how to do. It didn’t bother him any (if anything, it was a relief, a release to the constant tension that had otherwise followed Sledge and Shelton around whenever they were together, which was almost always) but he knew better than to let any of the others know. He waited a suitable distance away, and when they walked back to the crowd of waiting soldiers with him he’d covered for them, saying they’d gotten caught up all three of them talking. He remembered how it felt to have Shelton and Sledge’s questioning eyes on him then, but he had decided to wait to say a word about it. 

Now was a good time, he figured. 

“Just kiss already. I know you wanna.” 

“Um...no!” Snafu scoffed, sounding for all the world like he was acting in a poorly written radio play. “Me? Kiss this guy? I-” 

“I saw you two on the beach. Reminded me of me and Florence.” 

Snafu’s face softened. “You saw us. Did you...” 

“Didn’t tell anyone else. That’s for you two, to tell who you want, when you want. But you don’t have to pretend or hide here. Just...keep it tame enough that I can sleep, okay?” 

Eugene blushed. “We will, I mean, we wouldn’t, we haven’t, I mean I want to but uh-” 

Burgin laughed while Eugene covered his face with his hands. 

“I’m just gonna be quiet now. Think that’s for the best.” 

“Let me quiet you,” Snafu murmured, and it was almost a strange sight, Snafu kissing Eugene so softly, so gently. Burgin had seen what those hands could do in combat, but it was a nice if unfamiliar change to see them gently holding Eugene’s jaw. 

There was a quiet, short pause as Snafu let go and moved back to let his head drop against Eugene’s chest, wrapping his arms around him. 

“You both still wanna get me in trouble with some bar-hopping? I’m game if you two are.” 

Snafu grinned. “That’s my man! Let’s go celebrate bein’ back home properly.” 

Their first stop was the hotel bar, strangely empty of soldiers, though it became apparent why quickly. 

“If you’re gonna be rowdy, then don’t even bother. You’re money ain’t worth it,” the bartender, a man who looked just old enough to be one of their fathers, scoffed as they sat at the bar. “May have got money from V Day, but ya know what else I got? Over one hundred broken glasses, seven fights, and enough drunk soldiers puking on my floor we damn near had to redo the carpeting.” 

“We just wanted a quick drink. No intentions of tearing down your bar, sir,” Eugene said quickly, and Burgin thanked the universe for Sledge’s ability to seemingly politely talk his way out of anything. 

“...fine. Sit down, one drink each, then if you wanna keep going you leave and go elsewhere, alright?” 

“Thank you very much, sir,” Snafu smiled sweetly. 

The bartender scoffed, but turned and gave them a look. “Now, I got a game I like to play when it’s slow. Think you’re up for it?” 

They shared an amused glance, and nodded. 

“Alright. Game is, I try and guess what you’d usually drink. I get it right, you pay full price. I get it wrong, you get a dollar discount. Fair enough?” 

“I’m just happy you got booze, and we get to drink it,” Snafu said. 

The bartender’s glare softened just a touch. “Where’d you boys get back from?” 

“China. In Okinawa before that, Peleliu, Pavuvu,” Burgin replied. 

The bartender nodded, and started readying drinks. “I’ve heard a bit about it from the other boys in town tonight. Sounds like hell.” 

“Hell would have been preferable,” Eugene said quietly, with a look in his eyes that it stung Burgin to see. None of them were the same as they’d been when they left the States, but he knew Eugene was hurting especially hard. 

Snafu knew the same, clearly, leaning to wrap Eugene in a one-armed hug. “We’re home now though. Gonna be okay.” 

Eugene only nodded, and leaned into the hug. 

The bartender sighed. “Tell you what. I scared off the rest of the guys, but if y’all can promise me you’ll behave, I’ll keep you in drinks for the night. Maybe some food from the kitchen...willing to bet none of you have eaten yet.” 

“No sir, not yet. But we don’t want to be a burden,” Burgin said. 

“You seem like good men who need a break. You need somewhere safe to drink and eat and maybe forget a little. If I can help with that, I’d like to. I remember what it was like, coming home. There’s shell shock of the battle, and then shell shock of being home. No one knows what you went through, no one can understand, and you’re expected to pick yourself up and keep going no matter what.” 

“What branch?” Snafu asked softly. 

“Marines,” The bartender rolled up his sleeve to show a tattoo of the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor. 

“Thank you for your service,” Eugene sounded near tears, leaning against Snafu like it was the only thing keeping him going. 

“Thank you for yours, all of you. Now, I got an open booth right there, ten times more comfortable than these god-forsaken chairs. You go make yourselves at home. I’ll be over with drinks in a minute, and you think about what you want for dinner. Kitchen is a little limited in what they can make, but we’ll get something for you.” 

Burgin led the way while Snafu carefully helped Eugene out of his chair. 

“You okay? We can go back to the room if you want,” Snafu’s voice was gentle as he pulled Eugene close again, the booth letting him nearly pull Eugene onto his lap. 

“I’m okay. Just...sort of glad we’re staying in one place now. I mean, I still like the idea of running around...” 

“I get it,” Burgin said. “But it’s a lot. Almost too much. This, quiet, isolated. Feels a little bit easier to take.” 

Snafu nodded. “We got time anyway. Nothin’ but time, to figure out what we wanna do, where we wanna go...who we wanna go with.” 

The unasked question settled in the air, and he found himself holding his breath as Eugene’s eyes met Snafu’s. 

“I wanna go with you. I know we both oughta go home and just...I don’t know. But I don’t think I can do that,” the tears were visible in Eugene’s eyes. 

“Who says you have to?” he asked. “Why not just...go home together? Choose one place for now, visit the other when you can? Or choose somewhere new altogether?” 

“That an invite, Burgie?” Snafu chuckled, but the tears had already fallen down his face as he rubbed at Eugene’s shoulder. 

“I already got Florence comin’ that I gotta take care of, but tell you what. You let me know where you’re settling down, and I’ll send a letter or telephone when we’re ready for houseguests. I need Florence to meet you two, or she won’t believe any of the stories I tell her.” 

They all laughed at that, as the bartender returned with a tray of drinks. 

“Okay, so, we’ll see how well I guessed this time around. Sazerac, from the boy I’m certain is from the Bayou.” 

“Did the accent give it away?” Snafu smiled, and sipped as soon as the drink was in his hand. “One right, and I’ll be happy to pay you. Tastes like heaven.” 

“Old-fashioned for the old soul here,” the bartender set the drink in front of Eugene, who damn near tossed the whole thing down in one gulp. “...I’m guessing I got that right?” 

“Yes sir,” Eugene replied. “Could I please-” 

“Have another? Yes, you may. And for you, and you were a bit of a difficult guess but...Sidecar?” 

Burgin shook his head. “ Just Scotch, usually, but I don’t say no to most drinks. Consider it a win regardless.” 

“If you say so,” the bartender laughed. “Now, food?” 

From there, it began to feel like home, finally, for him. They asked for simple things, sandwiches, but the kitchen sent back a full three course meal once the bartender told them a bit of their story. It was good food, good drink, and best of all, safety. No need to watch for any enemy, just conversation and laughter. 

By the end, they’d decided Snafu and Eugene would start in New Orleans, then visit Mobile once they were settled. Florence, once she got to the States, would join Burgie for a visit with them as soon as they could arrange it. 

“It’ll be the best time,” Snafu mumbled in between kisses from Eugene as the three of them stumbled down the hall to their room, their wallets and hearts noticeably lighter. “Florence is gonna love it.” 

“She will,” he could hear himself talking, but barely registered what he was saying. “Oh god...I love her so much. You guys...she made me...what was it...I don’t even know but she made me dinner once, and watchin’ her cook...she’s so pretty. So sweet, I don’t even deserve her.” 

He slumped down the wall outside of their room, even as Snafu and Eugene reached to pull him up to standing again. He missed her. If he could have, he would have brought her with right away, had the boat make a pit stop so he could whisk her away, instead of having to wait for her. 

“You deserve her, and she deserves you, and you’re both...I love you both,” Eugene stumbled over his words, pulling Burgin up off of the floor and wrapping him in a hug while Snafu fumbled with the room key. 

“Locks are...these are bad locks, they oughta tell Maintenance,” Snafu said as they shuffled inside, pulling off their coats and ties and shoes, letting them fall wherever they dropped them.  

“In the mornin’,” he mumbled as Eugene dropped him onto one of the beds. 

He turned on his side and watched as Eugene fell backwards onto the other bed, Snafu crawling on top of him, pressing kisses to his face and neck and chest like it was all he knew in the world. He wondered if they knew how cute they were together. 

“You guys...are so damn cute together. We’ll do a dual wedding...you two, me and Florence...” 

“Don’t think they’ll let us do that,” Eugene mumbled as he sat up, swiftly moving Snafu so he was holding him in his lap. “But I appreciate it, Burgie.” 

“Fuck ‘em. I say double wedding, and we’re havin’ one. Gonna plan it, later. Tired...” 

“Go to sleep, Burgie. We can plan in the mornin’...” Snafu said, his face leaned into Eugene’s shoulder, already half asleep himself. 

The morning did not bring planning, but instead a rush to the train station as word spread that the train was not only repaired, but that anyone not there at the station right away risked being left behind. It was a task, getting all of them out the door and there, but once they were actually on the train, all was well. 

Burgin, sat on one side in the compartment, hoping relaxing would will away his hang over headache, and Sledge and Shelton on the other, leaned against each other, falling asleep again under the gentle rhythm of the train’s motion. 

They were right. 

It had been fun.  

[izzy-b-hands]

Fictober 2019, Oct. 25th, “I Could Really Eat Something.”

Fanfiction

Fandom: The Pacific

Pairings: Eugene “Sledgehammer” Sledge/Merriell “Snafu” Shelton

Rating: G

Warnings: None

929 words

I basically created a mini homecoming AU with Fictober this year, but I’m glad I did. I like writing these three boys hanging out together.

“You gotta stop talking about food,” Eugene sighed. 

“I’d love to stop talking about food,” Snafu replied. “But the longer we’re stuck here, the hungrier I get. Burgie agrees with me, right?” 

Burgin shrugged. “I could really eat something. I mean, this is the second break down, and now we can’t even get to the next town so they can resupply the dinner car...I’m tired, and hungry, and wish this damn train would move.” 

“And talking about it constantly is gonna make the train move, or make you less hungry?” Eugene mused.

“...no. But what else are we gonna do?” Snafu asked. 

“Could be faster just to get out and walk to the next town, go and find a restaurant,” Burgin said. “Lord knows we’ve walked a hell of a lot farther in the past.” 

Snafu nodded. “What do you say, Sledgehammer? Wanna head out and hunt down dinner?” 

“You guys are something else,” Eugene laughed and shook his head.

“Sure, we’re tired, and hungry. Hungry, plus that something else,” Burgin replied.

“We’ll be moving again before we know it,” Eugene said. “You two can sit tight for a few more hours.” 

“Hours?! You hear this man? Hours!” Snafu cried, flopping dramatically out of his seat and across Eugene’s lap.

“I think you’re gonna survive,” Eugene smiled, playing with Snafu’s hair gently. 

“We don’t know that,” Burgin said, playfully cautious in his tone. “We’re gettin’ awful used to regular meals again. Might not make it without ‘em now.” 

“You just gonna stay in my lap the rest of the trip?” Eugene asked Snafu, as he shook his head and laughed at Burgin.

“Need a beautiful prince to kiss me back to life, since we aren’t gettin’ fed any time soon,” Snafu murmured, playing at sleep.

“Kiss on the hand hold you over?” Eugene whispered back, eyes darting around the full train car. Neither of them liked having to worry so much, and be so careful, but it was better than the possible alternative. 

Snafu nodded and smiled at the feeling of Eugene’s lips on the back of his hand. “I’ll make it another whole hour now.” 

“What about me?” Burgin asked with a smirk.

“Should have made a pit stop in Australia to pick up Florence so you’d have someone to kiss up on too,” Eugene teased. “That’s all you got room for in that head of yours right now: food and Florence.” 

“Only two things I want, since I’m already in the company of good friends,” Burgin replied. “God, I miss her. Think she’ll beat me home?” 

“Just might,” Snafu said. “Nice thought, that. her waitin’ at the station for you, all dolled up.” 

“She’d have already met my parents then,” Burgin laughed nervously. “I mean, they know about her, know she’s coming, but...” 

“Afraid they’re gonna tell her to keep lookin’ for somethin’ better?” Snafu smiled. “Just kidding, Burgie. She knows she’s got the best there is.” 

Burgin blushed. “I just don’t want her to feel uncomfortable or lonely, you know?”

“Oh, he is so lovesick!” Snafu crowed. “Look at him! That’s adorable. Sure you don’t want us to get out in Texas with ya and be groomsmen?” 

“Actually,” Burgin peeked furtively around the train car, then pulled a small ring box from his pocket. “Nothin’ fancy. I”ll buy her a better one before the actual wedding of course. Got it from one of those little shops while we were cleanin’ things up in China.” 

It was simple: a gold ring with what looked like a small sapphire in it. But it shone bright, almost as much as the smile on Burgin’s face whenever he talked about Florence. 

“I hope she says yes,” Burgin sighed. “I mean, we talked about it before I left again, when we made plans for her to come to Texas once things were all said and done overseas. But what if it’s too overwhelming, somehow? Maybe I’ve lost it, thinking to ask her right away when I get home...” 

“You haven’t lost a thing, certainly not your mind,” Eugene said. “I’m sure she’ll say yes. Wouldn’t be coming all this way to the States if she didn’t love you to death, right?” 

Burgin nodded, and slipped the ring box back into his pocket.

“You gotta tell us when the wedding is,” Snafu added. “Think we can fund a trip to Texas, so long as we’re coming to see you and your lady.” 

“You mean it?” the nervousness melted away from Burgin’s face as he smiled again.

Eugene pulled his pocket Bible from his pants pocket. Most of the pages were covered in his own writing and notes all over the margins. “I’ve got just enough room for one more note in here: your address, so we can write you once we get settled and let you know ours, and so we’ll know where to go for the wedding.” 

As Burgin used one of the last pages margins to write his address, the train jolted forward with a shudder. 

“Finally!” Snafu cried, and a cheer went up through the train car. “So then, Burgie...since we’re still talkin’ food, what kind of food should we expect at this wedding?” 

They broke out into giggles as the discussion lapsed back towards hunger. It made for pleasant, somewhat silly conversation, but it was much needed cheer after what they’d been through. And it was a wonderful thing to look forward to, the wedding. 

Which would most assuredly happen, so long as the train didn’t break down ten more times or fail to get Burgin to Texas. 

[izzy-b-hands]

Mark the Date, Pt 1

Prompt: Calendar

I was gonna try and type a cute description here, but I’m afraid I’ll give away the plot if I do cuz I’m excited about it. So all I’ll say here is that Eugene and Snafu’s anniversary plays a part in this one! And it wasn’t going to be a multi part thing, but it was getting really long for a one shot, so I tried to find a spot to split it up a bit!

It was the same every year since they’d gotten married. They’d both plan something for the other, and spend the day together, no work or school to get in the way. 

The best part of it was watching Snafu. He attempted something that might have resembled sneakiness, but only vaguely. This year was perhaps his weakest attempt though. 

“Is that a...gazebo?”

Snafu nearly dropped the hammer in his hand as he turned to face Eugene, his eyes wide. “Um. Yes. What’s it matter?”

“Because I don’t recall us deciding to build one, or that you would do it all on your own,” Eugene replied, walking around the half-built structure. “Is this why you said I couldn’t come out here today?” 

“Meant to be a surprise,” Snafu mumbled. 

“Well, I am surprised. And I like it, but let me help you! Or get you water at least, you’ve been out here in this heat for hours,” Eugene scolded. He should have disobeyed and come out sooner to check on him. “We’re both lucky I didn’t come out here to find you passed out on the grass.” 

“I would’ve come in before that,” Snafu sighed.

“Sure, sure,” Eugene replied. “How the hell did you get the concrete slab down? I didn’t even see you bring in any of this?”

“Last few nights when ‘the cats were sneaking out’?” Snafu smiled, wincing slightly as he flopped back against the concrete floor of the structure. 

“I knew that was a lie, but this? In the dark?” Eugene laughed. “I mean, gettin’ it to set would have been a nightmare.”

“It’s worth it,” Snafu replied. “Part of somethin’ bigger, but that’s all I’m gonna say about it.” 

“Really? ‘Cause I know it’s eatin’ at you, to tell me more,” Eugene teased as he sat on the concrete slab. 

“Maybe so. But my lips are sealed,” Snafu’s hand reached up to pull at his shirt, tugging him down. 

“You really wanna do this out here, on this hot fuckin’ concrete?” Eugene murmured as he let himself be pulled down, moving to rest against Snafu, his thigh in between Snafu’s. 

“Really think I’m gonna let heat and sunburn stop me from gettin’ to you?” Snafu asked in reply. 

He was considering exactly what he was going to do to Snafu on the slab when Sid’s voice rang out. 

“Snaf! I got the uh-oh shit, Gene. I mean, I...” 

“I forgot we gave him the spare key,” Eugene sighed as he rolled off and up from Snafu. “What do you have, Sid?” 

Sid looked panicked, his hands hidden behind his back, the package he was trying to hide sticking out from behind him. “Nothin’. Just...Snaf asked me to run an errand for him. S’all.” 

“Is this to do with the bigger surprise you swear you aren’t gonna tell me anythin’ about?” Eugene asked as he watched Snafu bolt up and run to Sid like he was on fire. 

“What? Nah,” Snafu replied. “We gotta go talk for a minute, be right back darlin’!” 

He waited for a moment before following them inside, leaving his shoes near the back door so they wouldn’t hear him as he settled near the wall by the entrance of the sitting room. 

“You’re gonna tell him before the day of, right?” Sid asked. 

“‘Course,” Snafu replied. “But I mean...you think he’ll like this, right? Everyone’s helpin’ out and excited, and I know neither of us planned on ever gettin’ to do it, but...I’m not fuckin’ this up by not tellin’ him right away, am I?” 

“I don’t think so,” Sid replied, and Eugene could hear one of the chairs across from the couch creak as Sid moved in it. “But I know he’s gonna be curious as all hell right about now. Which is why I know he’s probably two feet away, listenin’ in. So lemme help both of you out-” 

Eugene slipped trying to get up and away from the wall as he heard Sid get up and move to the entrance of the room, but he wasn’t fast enough. 

“Hey. So, I know you’re curious. I would be too. But I promise, you’re gonna love what he’s cookin’ up. Gonna be a hell of an anniversary celebration, too. Give him another few days to finish that thing outside, to let me and some other folks finish up some ‘errands’ for him, then you’ll see. Be patient,” Sid smiled down at him. 

“Did you hear me come in or somethin’?” Eugene asked, wishing he wasn’t sprawled out on the floor at that moment. 

“No. Just know you well, buddy. And I’d be curious too, so I can’t blame ya. I’ll be back tomorrow around ten to help with the gazebo, so if you’re gonna...ya know, fuck on it, maybe do it before then? I love you guys, but-” 

“Oh my god, Sid,” Eugene interrupted, covering his face as he blushed and pulled himself back to sit against the wall. 

“See ya later!” Sid chirped happily as he left.

Snafu rounded the wall as the door clicked shut, and went to lock it. He walked back to Eugene, and slumped down beside him against the wall. 

“I could just tell you. Been so damn nervous about this, plannin’ it since our last anniversary,” Snafu said. His hands were shaking. 

Eugene reached over and held onto his hands as tight as he could. “Hey. I’m sure I’ll like whatever it is. I admit, I am...confused, to put it lightly, as to how the gazebo factors in, but-” 

“A wedding,” Snafu interrupted. “I can’t keep a secret from you, you know that. I was plannin’, since we never got one with a bunch of family and friends, and I know it still won’t be legal or whatever, but I thought bein’ back here with all your family and Sid and everyone else you know maybe it would be nice, and...” 

“You planned a wedding for us?” 

Snafu turned to meet his eyes, looking half scared to death. “I mean...I’m tryin’. Don’t really know how it goes. But I know you need someplace to hold it, and our backyard is big enough, nice enough for that. But I wanted somewhere to be the...hell I don’t know what you call it, the center of it all? So that’s why...” 

“The gazebo,” Eugene laughed.

“And I know your favorite color and mine, so that’s our colors. Apparently we needed those, according to Sid and Mary. That’s what Sid was doin’. Pickin’ up decorations and shit,” Snafu sighed. “God, you don’t hate this, do you? I mean, I know this is a big thing to spring on anyone and we’ve technically been married for almost three years, but-” 

“I love it,” Eugene interrupted softly, letting go of Snafu’s hands only to turn and pull him as close as he could, letting Snafu lean down to rest in his lap. “You planned all of this? And kept it quiet this long?” 

“It’s been killin’ me,” Snafu replied shakily. “Sid and Mary have known for awhile, and your parents. Got Burgie and Florence comin’ too. Won’t be a whole lot of folks, though I told your parents to invite anyone they knew would be, y’know...accepting. So no idea how many more that is, they haven’t gotten back to me yet.” 

“When is this planned for, exactly?” Eugene asked, though he was sure he already knew. 

“Day of our anniversary. Wanted to do somethin’ big. Probably settin’ a high standard for the rest of our anniversaries but,” Snafu shrugged. “If we’re stayin’ put here for awhile, then I wanted to do somethin’ showy. Show you off, and how much I love you.” 

He had words to say, but the tears kept getting in the way. He kept his arms tight around Snafu, and for that moment it was so good. Sweet and soft and wonderful-his husband had planned a whole wedding! For him! It was beautiful. 

“Our anniversary is in four days,” Eugene said, wiping away the tears. 

“Yup,” Snafu replied from his lap, his head resting gently and a hand on Eugene’s thigh.

“That’s not a lot of time,” Eugene said. “How much more is there to do? Aside from the the gazebo, I mean.” 

Snafu sat up, wiping tears off of his face. “Um. Not much, really. Sid and your dad have someone bringin’ over extra tables and things the day before, decoratin’ that night I guess. Already had your dad help out by gettin’ a tailor he trusts for our suits. Nothin’ fancy, mind, just black suits that he had on hand in his shop and can fit to us. And he’s coming over...shit he’s coming over tomorrow for fittings.” 

“Hold on. You were gonna have me fitted for a suit and just trust I wouldn’t ask why?” Eugene laughed. 

“Yeah,” Snafu giggled. “Shit, that wouldn’t have worked.” 

“No, no it would not have, but I find it adorable that you were gonna try,” Eugene sighed softly. “What time does the tailor get here?” 

“Hold on, I know this, I did actually write it down, shockin’ though that may be,” Snafu replied, jumping up and running into the kitchen, returning with a notebook that looked like it had seen hell. 

Snafu flipped through it seemingly at random, finally settling on a page. “He gets in at...eurgh. Seven in the fuckin’ morning. That’s what I get for lettin’ your dad set up that appointment, but he knows the guy, so not like I was gonna argue.” 

“Too bad,” Eugene sighed, standing up and trying to sneak a peek at the notebook. “Was gonna find a way to thank you for all of this.”

Snafu snapped the notebook shut and smiled. “Let some of it be a surprise yet. And what exactly did you have in mind for me?” 

“Somethin’ that means neither of us would be able to be out of bed before seven, that’s for damn sure,” Eugene said, letting his hands take hold of Snafu’s waist to pull him close. “Don’t know if I can wait until our honeymoon for it though.” 

“Only four days away,” Snafu said, leaning in to kiss him and nip at his lips. “You really can’t resist me for that long?” 

“You keep this up and I won’t make it five more minutes,” Eugene replied, his hands already undoing the front of Snafu’s pants. “Think you can still get up early if I keep you up for a bit?” 

“Somethin’s up already, you really think I’m gonna say no?” Snafu replied before letting the notebook drop to the floor as his hands moved to toy at the nape of Eugene’s neck, and he kissed him hard enough to move them both forward. 

It was a race upstairs, after retrieving the notebook and turning off the lights downstairs, much to Snafu’s frustration (”Too many goddamn lights, I’m dyin’ over here but we’ve got to turn all this shit off, for fuck’s sake.”) 

A few of the cats had taken up residence on their bed, but hopped off as if on cue as soon as they walked in. 

“Thanks for lettin’ us borrow the room,” Snafu said dryly as they trotted down the hall to the open guest room. 

“You know we don’t really own any of this, they do. They just let us live here,” Eugene laughed as he tossed his clothes to the floor and jumped onto the bed. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Snafu sighed as he stripped. “Think even your parents know that. They thought they were givin’ the house to us, but no!” 

“Get over here before the furry landlords get back in here and try and steal the bed again,” Eugene said, patting the bed. 

Snafu dropped onto the bed with a happy sigh. 

“You’re the settin’ the alarm so we actually get up, right?” Eugene asked as he let his hands trail along Snafu’s torso to his hip. 

Snafu rolled his eyes, but turned and set the alarm clock on the beside table. “Better?” 

Eugene nodded. “You’re gonna be too busy with me to do it later.” 

Snafu chuckled and smiled, stretching out and leaning against him. “That a promise?” 

Eugene replied with his lips against Snafu’s neck, his chest, working to elicit the moans and whimpers that he loved to hear. 

And for the first fifteen minutes or so, that’s what he got, as he nipped and kissed  his way down Snafu’s body. As he reached his hip, it registered that the sounds had changed. 

A look up revealed it; Snafu with his eyes shut, lightly snoring. 

Eugene laughed and pressed another kiss to Snafu’s hip before coming back up to rest beside him. “Gazebo building took it out of you, darlin’?” 

Snafu’s only response was to snuggle close to him as he pulled him near, so Snafu’s head came to rest against his chest.

“I’ll be patient then,” Eugene said as he played with Snafu’s hair. “Honeymoon night though? We aren’t gonna sleep at all.” 

He slept hard that night though, with Snafu warm against him.