I don’t really think of myself as much of a TV watcher. I don’t watch soaps, or reality TV, or even the news, really. But I do watch quite a few dramas, namely Supernatural, True Blood, Being Human, The Vampire Diaries and many more. But the one that perhaps stands out the most – in that the others are all paranormal shows – is Strike Back. It’s a thriller/military show, nicknamed by my other half’s friend as “tits and guns.” It’s currently in its third series, Vengeance, and I love it! Yes, there are tits and guns, but there are also fabulous plots, fascinating locations, and men in uniform. And out of it.
The two main characters, Michael Stonebridge and Damien Scott are part of an elite military unit, called Section 20. It’s very covert, spy-ish, terrorist-catching type stuff. And the two men do all the field work. They’re also both pretty damn hot, and the dynamic between the two characters is fantastic. Which is how TV shows led me into writing a new pairing.
I’ve written m/f, f/f, m/f/m and f/f/m before, but I hadn’t gotten around to writing any m/m. But Michael Stonebridge and Damien Scott pushed me into it. With their sexiness and their attitude and the way they bounce off one another (verbally, I mean!), it just had to be done.
Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t fanfic. It’s just the idea of the characters and their military status I’ve wound into my dirty little tale. And boy, is it dirty. Here’s more info:
Private Damien Stone is living in a nightmare. He’s out on exercise on Salisbury Plain with Lance Corporal Michael Scott—who also happens to be a huge pain in the arse. He’s a teacher’s pet who seems to delight in bossing Stone around. But that’s not the real reason Stone appears to dislike him so much. It’s because Stone—who’s bisexual—is seriously attracted to his superior, but he can’t do anything about it, because Scott is straight. Or is he?
And an excerpt:
“This can’t be fucking right!” said Lance Corporal Michael Scott, checking his map for the umpteenth time.
“I can assure you, Scott, that it fucking is,” responded his colleague, Private Damien Stone. He nudged the other man, pointed to a place on his own map, then raised his arm and indicated a rise in the ground in the near distance.
“See, that’s that long barrow, so we are in the right place.”
Looking at the barrow—one of the many on Salisbury Plain—then down at the map, and finally at his compass, Scott had to agree.
“So where the fuck are they, then?”
Stone had no answer for that one. He looked up into the lightening sky, which in the distance was being slowly tinged with pink, but saw no sign of their pick-up helicopter. Straining to hear even the faintest sound of rotor blades, Stone remained silent. Hearing nothing, he shrugged.
“Dunno. Perhaps we got the time wrong, or something?”
“I hope not, otherwise they’ve gone without us!”
“Nah. We’re early, if anything. The sun’s only just coming up.”
Sighing, Scott stuffed his map and compass into a pocket, and said, “Well, I guess we’d better find somewhere to shelter. I don’t like the look of that.”
The that he was talking about was an ominous-looking black cloud being buffeted in their direction by the wind, which was picking up rapidly.
“With you on that one.”
On an unspoken command, the two of them immediately split up and started to look around for somewhere they could keep out of the wind and imminent rain. It wasn’t long before Scott shouted out, and Stone immediately turned and headed in the direction of his colleague’s voice.
When Stone arrived, Scott had already removed his backpack and dropped it into the ditch he’d found and was striding down the slope to join it. Luckily, there’d been no rain over the past few days so the ground was dry. If the coming rainstorm ended up being heavy, it was entirely possible they’d get wet arses, but for now at least they’d be reasonably comfortable.
Following his colleague’s example, Stone shrugged off his pack. Turning, he saw that Scott was standing with his arms out, ready to catch it. Tossing it, he gave a curt nod of thanks before heading down into the ditch.
Once there, he saw that some scrub covered a couple of sizeable rocks, meaning that they would at least be able to sit down. It would have to rain pretty damn hard for the water level in the ditch to get as high as the top of the rocks, so they’d be all right until the chopper arrived.
Intrigued? Want a short, filthy gay story on your eReader? Then go here.
My next post is a little later in the month, where I’ll be talking scary stuff! See you then 🙂