*****

"Damn!"

Riley Finn stormed into the room he shared with his second in command, Graham Miller, slamming the door shut so hard his friend reflexively reached for his weapon, half-expecting something inhuman and nasty to burst through the solid wood in pursuit of his commanding officer.

"Damn it all to hell!" Riley growled, throwing his jacket in the general direction of the chair and kicking off his shoes, then heading towards the bathroom.

Having determined that Riley's outburst was obviously the result of a private kind of disaster rather than a work-related one, Graham put away his gun and relaxed a little. He still kept an ear out for trouble, though. If he'd learned anything in this town, it was to expect the worst. From the momet he'd seen his first vampire he hadn't let down his guard completely, and he'd taken to watching Riley's back as well -- not only during partrol, but always.

Graham wasn't much of a talker. Life had taught him some tough lessons, and as a result he'd learned to keep his mouth shut and to rely on himself. He didn't have many real friends -- one, actually, though he doubted that Riley Finn knew just how much his friendship meant to his taciturn, reserved teammate. Graham wasn't quite sure how and why he and his CO had become friends, and when exactly Riley had become such an important part of his life, but he took it with the same calm acceptance as everything else Fate decided to throw his way.

Maybe it was because Riley was a year younger and much more hot-headed -- and consequently trouble-prone -- than Graham, but the marine found himself strangely protective towards the other man, even though he knew Riley was a soldier just like he was and as capable of taking care of himself. So when he heard his friend mutter curses and clatter about in the bathroom, he had to fight the urge to follow him and find out what it was all about. Not that he didn't have a fairly good idea already...okay, so it was more like certain knowledge.

Buffy Summers. Cute, blonde, petite...vampire slayer. Or make that Slayer with a capital S. After all, she was the Chosen One, born to fight the forces of darkness. Apparently, she was also born to drive Riley Finn up the wall. The man was up one minute and down the next, depending on his girlfriend's mood. Graham had gotten used to recognizing the signs and dealing with the fallout, and judging from the amount of swearing coming from the bathroom, this had been a major fight.

Graham had always prided himself on being able to remain impartial even under dire circumstances though he had to admit he was just a bit biased when it came to Riley -- okay, so he was a lot biased, so what? -- he could see where Buffy was coming from. Her love life so far must have been even worse than Graham's, and that was saying something. He could understand that she got spooked easily, and that her first reaction when that happened was to draw back and distance herself from the emotional threat.

Of course, he could also see Riley's problem -- very literally, sometimes -- and a sexually frustrated CO was no fun to be around.

He sighed silently. Better to wait until Riley had found whatever he was looking for in the bathroom, and then approach him carefully. This way he might get his friend to talk about it without being shouted at too much. Not that he particularly minded if Riley got loud. He was a soldier, after all, and no matter how he respected his team leader -- Finn couldn't hold a candle to Gunnery Sergeant O'Tool, his former drill sergeant. O'Tool had been a serious threat to his charges' ear drums even on a good day. Compared to him Riley's roar was a mere whisper. Not that he'd ever tell his friend. He wasn't suicidal, after all.

Opting for prudence as the better part of valor he sat down on his bed, crossing his legs and reaching for the book he was supposed to read for his English lecture. This undercover gig was a lot more labor-intensive than he'd anticipated. Not only did he have to pretend he was a civilian, no, he had to pose as a student, too. Not that he was particularly averse to reading literature, but he wasn't used to it. It didn't help that he'd decided to learn something about the enemy as well while he was at it, so his reading list included not only the novels and anthologies he had to prepare for the exams, but also a number of books about demonology, vampirism, and lycanthropy.

He had discarded 'The Virginian' in favor of one of the occult books and was just trying to decipher an old Spanish text about the 'Boca del Infierno' when the bathroom door swung open and Riley returned. Graham fought down the instinct to jump up and stand at attention -- he'd been chewed out often enough because he tended to fall back into military behavior when caught by surprise. Instead, he restricted himself to looking up, unaware that his whole body tensed and straightened like that of a hunting dog waiting for his master's command.

Riley stood in the doorway and stared at him, a strange expression on his face. He was clutching something in his hand, but Graham was too distracted by the nervous tension radiating off his friend to give much attention to it. He wanted to ask what was wrong, if he could help, but he'd never been good at such things, so he kept his silence and hoped his eyes were communicating his questions. Obviously, they did, because Riley finally opened his mouth and spoke, his voice rough and low.

"I need you, Gray."

Graham cocked his head, unsure of what his CO was talking about. Did he need Graham to listen to his problems, to drive him to the nearest bar, or to kill somebody? There was no doubt about the fact that he'd do whatever Riley wanted him to do, but he'd need more information first.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked softly, his attention focussed completely on Riley's eyes.

Riley stared right back.

"I want to fuck you," he said simply.

Graham swallowed. Well, that was clear enough. He wanted to get up and pace the room, get rid of some of the panic rising inside him, but he'd been trained not to show his agitation, so he remained where he was, sitting on the bed and looking at his friend.

A part of him had known that sooner or later it would come to this. A man could only stand so much teasing, and even though Buffy didn't do it intentionally, she was driving Riley slowly crazy. The commando might be able to ease some of the pressure by jerking off, but this was only a temporary solution. He needed a partner -- somebody he could kiss and touch and bury himself in, somebody who was real, and not only a fantasy. Somebody he could trust, and who wouldn't mind being a substitute for a certain blue-eyed Slayer. He needed Graham.

Graham had always known he'd do anything for his friend, all Riley had to do was ask. So, he didn't really have a choice. He closed the book, put it aside and slowly got up, his face calm and unreadable as always, and he gave Riley his answer.

"Okay."

The younger man relaxed a little, some of the tension leaving his rigid body, and only then did Graham look at what Riley was holding in his hand. Somehow, he wasn't surprised to find it was a small jar of lube and some condoms.

"What do you want me to do?" he repeated.

Riley didn't move from his position.

"I want you to strip," he rasped.

Oh. Of course. Fucking him would be a bit difficult if he was still dressed.

//Get your brains together, Miller. You've done this before, and this time it's even voluntarily. So stop buying time and do it already!// So he did.

*****
Part 2:

Riley watched as his friend started to unbutton his shirt, revealing lots of smooth, tanned skin and a few scars, and experienced an unexpected rush of desire. He'd seen Graham shirtless before, and he'd noticed how well he was built, but he'd never really taken the time to appreciate the beauty of his teammate's body. He did now.

His eyes drank in the sight of strong muscles rippling under silken skin, freed from the soft cotton of his shirt by long, supple fingers. Graham had a predator's physique, powerful and elegant, with broad shoulders and chest, yet surprisingly narrow hips. There was nothing soft or yielding on him, only hard planes and ridges, every line of his body a perfectly sculptured work of art. Every movement spoke of carefully leashed strength, carried an unspoken promise of violence and death that was discernible only to another fighter.

His shirt fell to the floor, but Graham didn't bother to pick it up. He stood very still for a second, and then started to open his pants. Riley's cock, already half-erect, reacted immediately, pressing against the inside of his jeans. He watched mesmerized as the buttons gave and the material dropped and pooled around Graham's ankles. The commando stepped out of it almost negligently, setting his bare feet as delicately as a cat set its paws. Not that Riely really cared. He was too fascinated by the discovery that his friend was neither a boxer shorts guy nor a briefs guy -- more a nothing-at-all guy.

A part of him wanted to jump Graham then and there, throw him onto the bed and take him, but he didn't move. Neither did his soon-to-be lover. He stood completely still, not blushing, not fidgeting, as if it was an everyday occurrence for him to stand naked in front of his CO, waiting to be fucked. A quiet little voice deep down in Riley's mind voiced the uncomfortable suspicion that maybe it was, that maybe he wasn't the first to notice Graham's attraction, not the first to want him, and not the first to act on that desire. It made him hesitate and look at Graham attentively, searching for any sign of discomfort. Unfortunately, his friend's face was as unreadable as always and his eyes didn't give away anything.

"Gray?" he asked, the hoarse sound of his voice sounding like thunder in the silence.

Blue eyes met his gaze questioningly.

"Yes, sir?" Riley almost flinched at the use of the formal form of address in this intimate situation. Graham seemed to pick up on his unease and corrected himself instantly. "Yes, Riley?"

Riley cleared his throat.

"Are you okay with this?"

Graham blinked. A look of surprise flashed through his eyes, followed by a grateful warmth that made Riley's cock twitch in response.

"Yes," he answered gently. "I am."

//Thank you, thank you, thank you.//

Riley smiled, finally allowing himself to cross the distance between them and place his hands on the muscular chest, after throwing the lube and condoms onto the bed.

"Good," he murmured, bending down to kiss Graham's throat just beneath the jaw line. "'Cause I really, really want you."

"You've got me," a breathless voice whispered, so softly he almost didn't hear it. "Whatever you want, whatever you need. I'll do everything in my power to give it to you."

"Need you," he mumbled, his hands trailing down the strong back, caressing taut muscles, then cupping the deliciously firm ass and kneading it appreciatively, all the while nuzzling the side of Graham's neck, licking, nibbling, kissing.

Graham tilted his head back in an unconscious gesture of surrender, baring his throat and offering himself to his CO. His verbal consent was unnecessary, but he said the words nevertheless, as if he could sense Riley's need to hear them.

"Then take me."

Who could've resisted that invitation?

**************************************

Riley moved so fast that Graham's reflexes kicked in against his will. Somehow, he managed to stop the lethal blow to his 'attacker's' windpipe a second before it connected, allowing Riley to push him onto the bed and straddle his hips. His heart was hammering so hard he wouldn't have been surprised if it had exploded from his ribcage and cold-cocked him. //My God, I almost killed him!// his mind screamed in panic. //I almost...what the hell is he doing?!?//

Until then his experiences with other men had been limited to some awkward fumbling in high school, a one-night stand and two rapes, so he was absolutely unprepared for the enthusiastic assault. He knew Riley must have realized how close he'd come to killing him, but the other man ignored the almost-catastrophe and concentrated on kissing him senseless instead. Graham tried to retreat, deathly afraid of his own instincts, terrified that he might unintentionally hurt his friend, but Riley effectively trapped him by grabbing his wrists and pinning them over his head, using his weight to keep Graham down.

Every time he parted his lips to apologize or try to stop his determined lover, a very commanding tongue was shoved into his mouth, cutting off the words, until he gave up and relaxed, his own tongue meeting Riley's and offering an apology of a different sort.

Riley moaned when he felt Graham's tongue stroke along his own, sliding into his mouth and tracing the edge of his teeth. He pulled back as far as he could without breaking the kiss, suddenly in a hurry to get rid of his clothes. When the buttons refused to give at once, he ripped them open impatiently, tearing his shirt off hastily and shimmying out of his pants. Socks and boxer shorts followed, landing on the floor atop the rest of the discarded clothing, then Riley sank back down on his teammate, pressing his hard, lean length against Graham's more muscular form.

Graham sighed quietly when Riley pushed his legs apart with his knee and settled between his thighs, still kissing him. It felt good, especially since their cocks were rubbing against each other with every movement. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Riley's warm weight above him, Riley's tongue playing with his own, Riley's hands petting his body, touching him everywhere he could reach. He'd never before experienced something even remotely similar. No lover had ever made him feel like this, made him react like this, made him give himself over to him unconditionally.

So, when Riley told him to turn around, he did so without a trace of hesitation, presenting his back to his CO and spreading his legs in a silent offer. He should have been terrified, knowing what was going to happen, but he trusted Riley more than he trusted anybody else, himself included.

"Do it," he whispered, steeling himself for the pain to come.

The sensation of strong fingers stroking his back, massaging taut muscles and soothing the tension away came as a complete surprise. He arched into the touch, a sound not unlike a sob escaping his lips, and felt Riley's lips brush gently over the skin of his neck. His last clear thought was a direct reaction to the sudden realization that he'd fallen in love with Riley Finn; a characteristically concise, to-the-point summary of his feelings as well as of the situation:

//Oh, fuck.//

*****
Part 3:

Riley took his time, exploring every inch of Graham's body with fingers and tongue, tasting him, smelling him, learning him. He loved the way his friend reacted to each caress, loved the strangled moans and gasps weaving a net of soft sounds around them, loved the spicy tang of his lover's scent, dark and musky and undeniably male. From time to time, he'd stop what he was doing and lift himself up on his arms, looking down at the graceful creature stretched out beneath him and simply admire the sleek, powerful beauty he saw there.

Riley had wanted Graham because he'd needed some sort of release and he was tired of jerking off alone in the shower. All he'd had in mind had been a quick fuck to relieve the pressure, nothing more and nothing less. Who wouldn've thought that Graham had the power to turn him on like this? That he'd feel so fucking good he made Riley forget about everything except the pleasure of making love to him? Speaking of which...he reached for the lube, coating his fingers in the cool substance.

Graham jerked when he slid a hand down his ass, between his cheeks. He tensed, but a few whispered words and a couple of caresses made him calm down again. It was almost frightening how much he trusted Riley, especially since they'd never even kissed before. Determined not to betray that trust Riley slowed down a little, circling the tight opening instead of entering it. He waited until he felt Graham shiver and push back slowly, seeking more of his touch, then he applied more pressure, working one slick finger into the trembling body with infinite care.

A deep moan made him stop and he started to withdraw his hand, but almost immediately strong muscles clamped down on his finger, trying to keep it inside.

"Don't," Graham gasped, rocking back against him. "It's...it's okay. Feels good."

Riley groaned, rubbing his aching erection against a long thigh and trying to regain some measure of control. He wanted to drive into this enticing heat, wanted to screw Graham through the mattress, but he also wanted this to last as long as possible, because he had a feeling that this man was worth the wait. Damn, Riley was only a hair's breadth away from coming already, and he had not even mounted Graham yet!

"Keep still," he rasped, working a second finger in.

It took a while for Graham to adjust, but finally he signaled his readiness to go on by spreading his legs wider and rocking his hips gently. Adding a third finger Riley grabbed the lube again with his free hand and started to apply it to his cock, then stopped, cursed softly, and reached for the condoms. Graham moaned softly when he pulled his fingers out and hastily ripped open the small package. He rolled the condom on and spread a generous amount of lube onto it, then placed a quick kiss on Graham's back.

"Ready?" he asked.

Graham nodded mutely. Riley pulled him up to his knees and guided his cock towards his ass, pressing it lightly against the puckered hole. Then Graham whispered something he didn't understand and moved, rocking back against Riley and impaling himself on his cock.

Riley bit down a roar, stars dancing in front of his eyes, and drove deeper into the tight, velvety heat, sheathing himself nearly to the hilt in the narrow channel. He felt Graham arch against him, gasping, and grasped his hips to steady him. Unable to hold back any longer he started to thrust, pulling almost completely out of Graham and then slamming back into him in long, hard strokes.

His hands traveled restlessly during it all, rubbing along his lover's spine, caressing the shivering flanks, following the curve of his ribs and stroking his chest and abdomen. Graham was solid fire under his touch, whispering, moving, sighing. He yelped when Riley hit an especially sensitive spot deep inside him, and Riley did it again, just to hear this sound once more, then again, because he liked the way Graham's muscles contracted around him, massaging his throbbing cock, and again just for the hell of it.

His fingers found the hard column of Graham's cock, squeezing it rhythmically, and he smiled when he felt a shudder ripple through the straining body beneath him. God, this felt perfect. Pounding into the tight ass, no quarter given and none asked, secure in the knowledge that Graham could take it and then some; he felt a weight drop from his shoulders he hadn't known he'd carried.

This wasn't about a relationship, or about competing with an oh-so-dark-and-tortured souled vampire, this was sex, plain and simple. Better sex than he'd ever experienced, granted, but still only sex. Sex with a man whom he trusted with his life, a man he considered his friend. A man who met each of his thrusts with one of his own, matching him stroke for stroke, voicing his pleasure in low, rumbling moans.

It was liberating.

Growling in excitement, he moved closer and changed the angle of his thrusts so he could shove his length in even deeper. That did it. Graham bucked and gave a strangled cry, his whole body growing rigid under the onslaught. His cock pulsed in Riley's hand, spurting liquid warmth over his fingers and onto the covers.

Riley caught him when he collapsed, holding him up while he drove into him mercilessly, fucking him hard and loving every second of it. His orgasm built slowly, a steadly mounting increase of tension that made him shake and groan and ram into his gasping lover like a man possessed. His fingers dug into Graham's skin hard enough to leave bruises, but he didn't mind. Riley just forced a knee between the quivering thighs and spread them wider, sitting the other man down on his lap and caressing him roughly, holding him down, kissing and biting his shoulders, and then coming in him, filling the tip of the condom with his hot semen.

**************************

"Are you all right?"

Graham lifted his head from the covers and met Riley's gaze, noting how relaxed his friend looked -- the lines of tension were gone from his face, the veiled frustration in his eyes replaced by a warm, sated calm. He nodded, hiding his own feelings of panic and confusion behind his usual stoic mask, determined not to destroy the fragile peace he'd been able to give his teammate. So what if he'd discovered he'd fallen for his friend? That was his problem, not Riley's.

"Never been better," he lied, stretching a little and flexing his muscles.

He felt a bit sore, but he wasn't bothered by it since he was still shaken from the most intensive orgasm he'd ever had. He hadn't known that sex with another man could be so...well...good. Actually, maybe 'mind-blowing' was a better word for it. He hadn't felt so satisfied since -- he couldn't even remember. So yes, physically he was fine. More than fine, because Riley was still touching him, trailing his hand up and down Graham's side, which was enough to make him almost purr in contentment.

The down-side was that he'd not only just had sex with his best friend -- scratch that, with his COMMANDING OFFICER -- and said commanding officer was in love with the Slayer of all persons, he'd also made the mistake of falling in love with the guy, though honestly he had to admit that had probably happened some time before. Things were further complicated by the fact that they were stationed in Sunnydale, practically on top of the Hellmouth, and that played havoc even with 'normal' relationships'.

In short: He'd screwed up royally, as usual.

The only thing he could do was keep his mouth firmly shut and deal with it, hoping that no one would find out. Be there, guard Riley's back, listen to his problems, and pray his friend wouldn't need to use his body again, because he had the awful suspicion that he could easily get addicted to sex with Riley Finn.

So, when Riley yawned and sat up, a big, goofy smile on his face, he smiled back, ruthlessly burying the empty feeling, caused by the loss of his touch, in the darkest corner of his mind.

"Let's hit the shower and clean up this mess," Riley suggested, throwing the discarded condom into the trashcan and stretching lazily. "You up for a run?"

Run. Like in: until-you-drop-from-exhaustion. Yeah, running would be good. If he ran long enough, maybe he'd be able to forget about his problems for a while. He looked into Riley's sparkling eyes and suppressed a sigh. Or maybe not.

"Fine by me," he answered and got up, trying not to notice the way Riley was looking at him, licking his lips as if contemplating a second round. "Give me five minutes to shower and dress."

Riley's grin softened into a gentle smile.

"Hey, Graham?"

He stopped and turned around, looking at his friend questioningly.

//Don't say it, don't say it, please don't say it!//

"Yeah?"

//Don't thank me. Don't thank me. Just...don't. Please.//

"Thank you," Riley said.

Graham closed his eyes briefly, hating himself for the pain flaring up inside. Of course Riley had to thank him. It was the polite thing to do.

So he nodded, accepting the thank you, then went into the bathroom to take his shower.

When he stood under the spray he tilted his head back and welcomed the cold water streaming down his body, washing him clean of sweat and semen and the lingering smell of Riley's skin. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, licking his lips absentmindedly, then paused for a second when he tasted salt. Must be sweat.

Because soldiers don't cry.

~the end~