Everything on this page is fiction. Any resemblance or reference to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Fandom: Houston Knights
Series: Other Authors
Rating: NC 17
Pairing: Joe/Levon
Archive: Starwinder's
Title: LaFiamma? A Marine?
Author: Etch
Standard Disclaimer: Houston Knights belongs to Jay Bernstein and Michael Butler and Columbia Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. This is fan fiction, written out of love for the shows. I am making no money off this. I have no money so please don't sue me. Any original characters who may appear in these stories are the property of the author.

"LaFiamma? A Marine?"
By Etch

"LaFiamma, will you stop kicking me?" Sergeant Levon Lundy groused sleepily, turning over on his side to look at his lover who was thrashing about on the bed next to him. "Geesh, Joe," Levon gasped, pulling his legs under him, he flattened himself against the headboard to avoid contact with the attacking legs.

The Texan stared down at his naked lover, Sergeant Joseph LaFiamma. Joe was sweating profusely, mumbling in a language Lundy didn't understand, though he knew it wasn't Italian, his face white as the sheet he struggled with. Levon swallowed back the fear growing in the pit of his stomach as the Italian's eyes opened and his face contorted in terror.

"LaFiamma?" The blond whispered, lightly touching his lover's shoulder, only to see the Italian recoil in fear. This was Joe's second nightmare in one night, and Levon was beginning to worry. [Damn, Joe. I couldn't wake you from the first one. What if I can't wake you from this one?]

"LAFIAMMA! JOE!" The cowboy barked sharply, hoping that would cut through the fog of the dream, moving back to the edge of the bed in case his lover's legs struck out at the invisible foe he was fighting.

"WHAT!" The Italian shouted, bolting upright, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the sheet, pulling it with him as he sat up.

"Joe? Joey? Come on, man. You're having a hell of a nightmare, wake up!" Concern etched the voice of the blond detective

"Lundy?" Joe rasped quietly, not believing at first, that the naked man touching him was his partner, his lover.

"I'm here, partner. What is it? Maybe if you talk about..." Lundy began cautiously.

"He's coming," Joe choked, gasping for air, pulling his knees to his chin.

"Who's coming?" Levon asked, fear was rising in his belly that a man, whoever he was, could instill this much fear in this macho detective.

"I... I could always feel his presence. Even when he was twenty miles up... Damn! Things are going so good here. Why? Why is he coming now?" Joe lamented, burying his head in his hands.

"Joey?" Levon said softly, a tinge of fear in his voice, tenderly moving his hand down his lover's spine.

LaFiamma looked up and turned to the voice next to him. Staring at the blond for several seconds, he realized it was not a dream... that Lundy was indeed there. "I'm sorry, Levon, you have no idea what I'm talking about do you? God, I love you so much," Joey sobbed, pulling his blond lover in for a quick kiss and then releasing him. "Don't want anything to spoil what we have."

"Nothing is going to spoil what we have," Lundy replied softly, shaking his head, taking two fingers and gently swiping at the sweat dripping off the Italian's perfect nose. "Can't you tell me what it is? Maybe I can help?"

"Mem... memory must've been triggered... when you discovered that tattoo on my cock last night. I've... I've pushed out of my mind how I got that. Don't want to think about it. I... I was in a special unit... covert operations... in the Marines ... a sharpshooter... a translator in eight languages...a... a stud!" Shamed by the last word, LaFiamma hung his head, refusing to look at his lover. Finally he turned, looking at his cowboy lover, his detective partner, Joe didn't know whether to continue or not. He knew one thing, if he didn't tell someone, it would fester a hole right through his gut.

"You speak *eight* languages!" Levon gasped, awed by this revelation. [Joe's right, I really don't know much about him.] "What do you mean a stud? Is that some kind of code name?" Lundy asked, hanging on very word.

"A STUD! A FUCKING STUD! A...WHORE!" Joe screeched, pulling away from his lover. "I could bring a man to ecstasy beyond his wildest dreams. Make him lose consciousness, or torture him with my tongue... my cock without my body even touching him... until he literally begged to be put out of his misery."

"You... you were used for sex?" Lundy questioned in disbelief not believing his hot-tempered partner would allow that to happen to him.

"You don't understand, Lundy. I liked... having that kind of power over a man! And men fought over the privilege of sleeping with me. When we went out on a mission, my sergeant would inform me who was the lucky man this time out. It all started after I made some off-handed comment about taking a guy to bed and really straightening out his attitude. After that, those that wanted that chance drew lots for that privilege."

"Who's the man... that's coming?" Levon asked again, not at all sure he wanted to know.

"Our CO... commanding officer, Colonel George Washington Smith. We did covert forays. I was in charge of one of his units. He was divorced, and crazed for sex. Kinky sex. Painful. When a new man was rotated in, he would ask him into his office for a conference. If the guy came out white faced and shaking, we knew the Old Man had fucked his ass, and was going to be using him for the next week or month. We all could breathe easy for a while ... cause we knew we were off the hook."

Joey stopped abruptly, swallowing back a memory that would be etched in his mind forever. "The Old Man never once called me into his office, not until I'd been under his command for a year. It was when we came back from a tricky operation in the Middle East, that his personal valet came to my quarters to get me. Told me the Old Man wanted to congratulate me on a job well done. When I walked into his office, he stood up... and his cock was so hard... it looked like he had an arm trying push out through his zipper."

Levon studied his lover. He knew Joe was confiding things in him he wasn't suppose to know, yet he could see his lover visibly relax as the words gushed out, almost uncontrollably.

"He came around the desk, and told me he wanted me. As if I couldn't see that already. Told me he had wanted me for a long time. That he didn't want to have me the way he ... the way he used his other lovers... though they weren't lovers.. just asses he could use to relieve himself in," Joe growled angrily, remembering a couple of horror stories friends had confided to him.

Levon watched as that sly half smirk began to spread across the Italian's face.

"I boldly walked up to the S.O.B. Took his chin in my hand, tilted his head, and planted a kiss.. long and deep on his cigarette saturated lips. He sagged backwards onto his desk. His erection was so hot; it exploded on the spot. I stepped back and looked at him. Told him if he wanted me, he'd have to give up smoking that day. That it would never happen in his office, but only at his house. Those were my terms; he could take 'em or leave 'em. Then I turned and walked out of his office."

Levon's mouth opened, and closed, not knowing what to say. Realizing though, that the terms must have been met or Joe wouldn't be sitting on the bed with him now.

"You love me less?" Joe finally asked, as the silence between them seemed to stretch into an eternity.

"If anything... I love you more," Levon finally ventured. "Love you for sharing a part of your life that has been closed off for so long. Love you because I know exactly how that man felt to have been kissed by you and not been able to control his cock because of it."

"He... he sent me orders in Chicago... couple years before I came down here. I said I didn't want to go, was working on an important homicide case. The Marine who delivered the message gave me two choices... report at 0900 hours for a flight to Quanto or be taken in shackles to the Federal Building and be shot."

"SHOT!! They can do that?" Levon squawked his voice cracking.

"Hell yes...! Smith knew I was proud of what I did in the Corps even though I haven't been able to tell anyone what I did. He knew I wouldn't blemish that record."

"When I arrived at the airport I discovered he and I were the only passengers on the transport. DAMN IT, Lundy! He put me on active duty for one week just because he wanted sex... from me! He wanted me so bad; he crawled around the inside of the airplane on his hands and knees waving his naked ass in my face. That's when I realized what a potent weapon I had... what I potent weapon I was! That's when I understood why some of my mates actually came to blows to see who was going to sleep with me when we were out on a mission."

Joe stopped abruptly, not sure he should continue. Not sure he should be telling his partner the fucking truth about himself. Yet he wanted to get it out. Wanted it clean between them.

"God, Levon, you are so wonderful. I don't deserve you, I really don't." Joey replied, planting a short kiss on eager Texas lips.

"I could say the same thing, Chicago. I'm just a Texas cowboy you pulled out of the gutter, wallowing in despair of a dead wife he couldn't let go of, wandering gay bars just 'cause he didn't want to wake up alone."

Smiling, Joe continued, confident he was safe with his lover no matter what went down. "The last day... the guys started arriving... every man I'd ever given pleasure to while in the Corps... or had tortured..."

"Tortured?" Levon asked, his jaw dropping open, not understanding what his lover meant.

"Tortured! It was a game we played. It started on a mission in South America when my recon team discovered the tattoo. The discovery of the tattoo started the nightmares again. Sometimes I could push them out of my mind, but other times ... especially after the discovery of it... after it was fingered... sucked... I'd find a spot to sleep by myself, because I knew the dreams would come that night. Just as they did tonight."

"The game -- strip a man in front of the others ... lick him ... kiss him ... until he is so hard he had no skin left to close his eyes. Then walk away... leave him standing there so full of passion he couldn't move. If he started to sag, we'd lash him to something to keep him upright. It... It was then... when I got so hard... like last night... harder than hard, that the sword's finer details are revealed... they... didn't believe how I got it... each one wanted a taste of it... and hell, I let 'em."

Joe stopped, lowing his head; ashamed of what he was saying, revealing about a life he had chosen to block out.

"The nightmares started.... Started after I got back from a mission... a mission where I was captive for ten days. We were escorting the president's wife and kids in Lebanon. Got separated... Got detained... I used force to get them and my men out, but in the process, I got captured. They... beat me. Kicked me... every aggression they had against Americans they took out on me. The... the dream... I wake up and have a snake coiled on my chest... my captors wanted to see just how strong American Marines were." Joey swallowed, leaning his head against his lover's shoulder, relishing the embrace that it brought.

"I was handcuffed to the floor. Hands... feet...they were simulating my genitals...if I moved. The snake..."

"It's okay, Joey, I'm here," Levon replied softly, pulling his shivering partner to his chest. "They aren't going to hurt you any more."

"They stuck four needles into my cock at the same time. The scream came out of my toes, man. They laughed big time. Don't know what happened to the snake. Didn't attack me. One of them came in waving a piece of paper, showing it to everyone, then knelt down and asked me if it was the Marine sword. When I nodded yes, the needle work continued. God... Levon, I've been shot, stab... beaten... nothing prepared me for the pain of... I mean... I got cousins who have tattoos ... they never said it hurt."

"Partner, the penis is the most sensitive part of a man's body." Levon offered tenderly, pulling up the sweat-laden sheet to wipe off his lover's face.

"When it was over... they left me there... naked... handcuffed to the floor. One or two would come back to check on me... urinate on me... check the cock to make sure it was healing. When they finally came and took me back to my cell, I swore at them in Lebanese." A half smile crossed Joey's face. "They were shocked... that I knew their language... that I might have understood what they were doing... I didn't. I only knew a few words. Mostly how to swear. But they never talked in my presence after that. Only English. I lost track of time... only three small windows at the top of the wall next to the ceiling, no light bulb... yet something blinked on and off all the time. Couldn't sleep. They'd interrogate me for hours... slap me, knock me around. It got so my body was numb, I wasn't reacting. Wasn't feeling.'

"How'd.. you get out?" Levon asked his voice tight with anger toward Joe's captors.

"One of my recon teams... bought some information... got a couple of chopper pilots... and went out on their own... they found me half-naked in an unlocked cell... couldn't find my pulse, but didn't want to leave me. Put me into a body bag and carried me to the chopper."

"A body bag!?"

"In case you haven't been to the Middle East, it is hot there. I mean hot! Open-air choppers are cold. I opened my eyes and couldn't see anything. Figured they had put me in some kind of hole. But it was cold. I pulled my knees to my chin to ward off the chill and started sneezing. Guess I scared the shit out of my Marines. Next thing I knew... I had four men hovering over me. Dressing me ... wrapping me in blankets ... bandaging my ankles ... wrists. I heard the pilots shouting over their mikes, 'HE'S ALIVE! HE'S ALIVE!' It took me a minute to realize they were talking about me. I about went ballistic when one pulled out an IV needle, almost pushed him out the open door. In sick bay, on the carrier... I was questioned about the sores on my cock. The swelling. I told them as much as I could remember. You're right, it is a beautiful piece of work... but I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Except for the doctors on that carrier, and you.. no one knows how I got it. Maybe it's in my confidential file... my men... never believed...."

"My men figured I was some awesome dude to have a tattooed penis. But when I look at it... all I remember is being cuffed to a cement floor begging them to stop. Which is why, partner... I have always struggled to be on top... so you can't see it. Why I use my hands to guide it into you. Why I insist on the lights being out when you suck it."

"Like I said before the CO got wind of the torture game. He called me into his office and questioned me about it. Told me he wanted to see a performance, but that he would pick out a 'victim.' He liked what he saw. Liked it a lot. Told those that he considered his 'men' to be on the alert. He was going to start having his own game... picking out his own victim... and every one who had already been a victim was expected to participate. So whenever he got the hankering for more excitement than just fucking one of us, Smith would send his personal valet to the barracks. Carrot-Top would walk around looking from a picture in his hand to the men that were there. When he found who he was looking for, he would walk up to the man, smile and say, 'you're IT at the game tonight.' No matter if we had duty. No matter if we had a date. We had to call and say that Colonel Smith had just notified us that we had to report to him for special duty. We had no choice. I know only a couple of guys who refused. They had orders the next day, shipping them out. No one heard from them again. It was a blatant lesson for all of us of just how powerful this man was. I would always have to be there early... because he got so hot thinking about it. I'd have to work him off before the show. After the show... the victim and I would have to stay. He... he'd suck off my cock. His precious sword he called it. The victim... oh god, this man is sick, Lundy... the victim had two choices, if you call it that, and he had to make up his mind in a split second. Hump the Old Man, or let the Old Man ride him... if he waited too long to make up his mind. Smith would grab him by the ankles and ask to see his butt."

"Oh god, Joe. It sounds to me, more like you were the one being tortured not them." Levon said pulling his lover into his arms, running his hands through Joe's soft brown hair.

Pushing himself back into a sitting position, Joe continued, "At dinner time that last day at Quanto, some of the men who had been in my squad showed up. They were grinning like Cheshire cats all expecting me to do something, not realizing that what went down before was no longer part of my life. I wanted to forget those orgies we had. I asked the Old Man... what the hell was going on? Why were they there? What kind of game he was playing? I watched the men's faces go blank, obviously he had told them something entirely different. Probably that I was in town and wanted to play, and won't it be great to surprise me and have an old time splash. "

"I lost my cool, Levon. He could have strapped me in irons and hauled me away, but he didn't. I started ranting at the Old Man, asking why he had forced me back to active duty for one damn week. Why he was turning me into a whore, when he was the one who was one, not me? Next thing I remembered, four of my old mates were holding me back, standing in my face, apologizing. They'd been told I was back on active duty and had only a few hours layover. Evidently, they all jumped at a chance to lay with me again."

"Oh god, Levon... if that's what he wants... I can't go through that again. I just can't. I'd sooner be shot." Joey croaked, burying his head in his lover's shoulder.

[][][][][]

End of part One

On to Part Two

Everything on this page is fiction. Any resemblance or reference to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.