A/N: Honestly, I think I exist just to torture O. Blame The Night Of for this one, because I never could get this quote out of my head.

"Is this where the guy stares at the ceiling and says 'That's never happened to me before' and the girl touches his arm and says 'It's okay, it happens.'"

"Fuck. Fuck!"

"Will you shut up?" she snapped, smacking his chest with one hand as she looked anxiously over her shoulder to the door. "Someone's going to hear."

"I don't give a shit," he snarled. "What in the hell is going on—what is wrong with me—"

"It's perfectly normal, O, calm down. It's not a big deal—"

"Fuck perfectly normal! And don't tell me it's not a big deal! I'm a goddamn U.S. Marine, I should be able to—to—"

"—keep your dick hard for more than two seconds?"

He pointed a furious finger at her smirking face. "You're not helping, got it?"

She held up her hands in mock fear. "Ooh, I'm so scared," she snickered.

He didn't bother replying. His attention was back on his groin, where, admittedly, not much was happening to capture anyone's attention. On top of him, she stifled a laugh into her hand. She shouldn't be laughing, really. It wasn't funny—not for him, and certainly not for her. She had made the trek out to meet him for one reason and one reason only, and now, thanks to him, that reason was obsolete. Her laughter flattened, she got up off of him and left his bunk with a sigh.

It wasn't until she started putting her clothes back on that he even noticed she'd moved. He looked at her with alarm.

"Hey, hey, hey… What're you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing?" She pulled her shirt over her head. "I'm leaving. Clearly there's nothing here for me."

"Are you…" He was actually stunned speechless for a second. "Are you kidding me, Army?" he choked out.

"Not unless you're kidding me," she answered with a nod to his waist while she pulled on her underwear. She spared a cursory glance for him. "It's probably just stress," she informed him sagely, as if she were knowledgeable about these things. "Or who knows—" She shrugged, reaching down to pick up her jeans from the floor. "—maybe it's just you. Maybe you're done. Maybe you'll never fuck again."

"Don't say that! Don't even think that."

"Hey, don't worry. You've still got a perfectly good mouth, nice long fingers. I'll still keep you around." She grinned. "For a bit."

"I cannot believe you."

"What's not to believe, Marine?"

"You're deserting me! Some help you are under pressure."

"Deserting you?" Her eyes flashed at his word choice. "Marine, I have never ducked from a fight and I never will. Whether I'm with my regiment, or out there alone with you, I will risk my life for the work we're doing here and I will die for it if need be. I am no deserter. But this…" She waved a hand between them and snorted. "You're crazy if you think I'm gonna sit around while you try and psych yourself up into getting a hard-on."

"Please stay." He pushed himself up on the bed. "Help me out. C'mon, I'm begging here, Army."

"Not well enough."

"What do you want me to do, get on my knees?"

She grinned. "Yeah, actually. Do me a favor and open your mouth, too."

He scowled, flopping back against the mattress again. "Don't use this to your advantage."

"Why the hell not? Besides, who knows..." She dropped her jeans to the floor and took a couple of steps back towards his bunk. "Maybe getting me off will help you get off, too."

"Only if you do me first."

She groaned. "Marine, come on. I don't want to sit here for an hour with your softie in my mouth. We both know it's not gonna work."

"It might!" He sat up. "Come on," he wheedled. "It might. Please. Just try."

She folded her arms and surveyed him in silence for a few seconds. Finally, she asked, "You'll pay me back?"

He smiled in relief, already moving towards the edge of the bed. "Twice, if you like."

"Three times."

"Yes, sure. Whatever." He waved her over. "C'mere."

She eyed him skeptically for a moment, but eventually made her way back to his bunk.

She gave up after fifteen minutes, despite his protests that she hadn't tried hard enough.

"I did everything I could, okay?" she said as she got to her feet. "I used every tool at my disposal, and it's not my fault nothing happened. Clearly this is your issue to sort out."

"Yeah, and I need you to help me sort it out!"

"No, you don't," she argued, slipping her feet into her boots by the door. "You fared just fine before I came along, didn't you?"

"Barely," he muttered, but he kept his voice so low that she doubted she was supposed to have heard it. She did nonetheless, and she made sure to keep her head turned away as she left so he wouldn't see the smile on her face.

He spent the next week in an anxious haze, dreading the moment someone else would find out.

He didn't know what was wrong with him and he didn't dare ask anyone about it, not even the base's medic. Ever since she'd started stopping by to visit him during the night, he'd gotten a certain reputation amongst his platoonmates. They respected the fact that he had a woman, envied the fact that she visited so often, and most of all, they never stopped talking about how much she'd prefer one of them once she got bored of him. He was not about to give a single one of them any fodder on which to heap insults.

If they found out what was happening—specifically, what wasn't happening—they'd never let him forget it. He would forever be the guy who couldn't get it up, and in a company of men, that would be all that would matter from here on out. Who cared if he was an excellent marksman, and nearly unmatched in hand-to-hand combat? He could kill them all with his bare hands, and they'd still laugh at him from beyond the grave.

So he told no one. He talked to no one. He kept to himself, and he thought of her, and he willed himself to be normal again. Whenever he had a spare moment alone, he turned his mind towards her. He thought of her, and himself, and of all the things they'd done together and all the things he still wanted them to do together.

Nothing happened.

He spun fantasies in his head, each more outlandish than the last, just to try and get a response out of himself. He animated his mental picture of her with obscene dialogue she'd never said and movements she'd never made. In his mind, he placed himself with her, and for a second he could swear he felt something. He did feel something—but it never lasted.

He hoped seeing her would change things. He hoped being alone in a room with her would make things easier. So when she showed up a week after she first left, he had certain expectations.

They would talk about business, of course—it was the reason she was here. But once that was over, he thought they would do what they always did when they were alone and had a few spare minutes. He thought there wouldn't be any discussion. Instead, when they finished reviewing their most recent set of files, she turned to him, one hand on her hip and her eyebrows raised expectantly.

"So? Still having trouble getting your soldier to stand at attention, I take it?"

His nose twitched in annoyance. He had no idea what he'd done to give it away, but he hated that she could see through him so easily.

"What makes you say that?" he demanded.

"Oh, nothing…" She smiled, taking a step towards him. "It's just that it's been a week since you failed to fuck me, and strangely, you seem in no particular rush to try to make up for it tonight."

"So?" he muttered sourly. "What does that prove? Maybe I'm just tired."

She laughed. "I've never known you to turn down even the slightest opportunity for sex. Or to be tired."

"Well, I am," he muttered, turning away. He couldn't look at her while he was lying. "I'm really tired, so if we're done here—"

"Don't tell me you want me to leave already," she interrupted. "Last week you were begging me to stay."

"That was last week."

"It was." She paused, and though he wasn't facing her, he could sense her thinking. It made him anxious. "And has something changed since then? Perhaps you've cured yourself of your inability to rise at the reveille? If so, I'd really like to see—"

He whirled around. "If you make one more fucking military pun about this, I swear to God—"

"Jesus, calm down, Marine! You're so touchy when you can't get it up." She grinned at her own joke. "Ironic, huh? Touchy? Get it?"

He pointed to the door. "Leave, Army."

"Fine," she groaned, gathering her things. "You're no fun anyway."

Over the next few days, she thought about visiting him. She thought about slipping into his room like usual, dragging him out of bed and off into the night… But of course it would all be pointless now.

She felt listless, on the evenings she spent without him. She hadn't realized just how many nights they spent together until they abruptly stopped. She missed him. She missed how good he made her feel, yes, but she missed other things, too. She missed the way they sometimes laid together afterwards, and talked about things that weren't the Army or the Marines or the Plan. She missed the way he smiled when he watched her dress, and the way he always tried to get her to stay for a few minutes more.

She missed him so much she'd nearly made up her mind to sneak out and meet him for something besides business.

But he beat her to it.

They ended up at a hotel a mere fifteen minutes down the road from her base. She would've laughed at his desperation if she weren't just as relieved to have him back to normal. They hotel clerk said nothing about their lack of baggage, nor did she question if they were staying past one night. The hotel got a lot of traffic from the base; its receptionists were well-versed with the antics of men and women freshly released on leave. That wasn't their situation, but they did nothing to dissuade the clerk from that assumption.

They paid, took their key cards, and did their best not to run to the elevators. He grabbed her hand as they headed down the hallway and squeezed hard. She looked over at him with a grin and squeezed back. The elevator arrived, and the moment the doors closed behind them, he pushed her up against one of the walls and kissed her.

She might've laughed out loud at his eagerness if he hadn't pressed himself so close against her. She groaned at the hard feel of him, pushing herself forward too, wanting more. It had been so long.

Too soon, the elevator stopped at their floor and they stumbled out, half-breathless and already a little disheveled. It took them a minute to clear their heads and find their room, but soon enough they did. She managed to keep enough of her wits about her to throw the Do Not Disturb sign on the handle of the door before she slammed it shut.

Hours later, he still hadn't tired. It was unbelievable, and if he would stop kissing her long enough to let her speak, she would suggest that he see a doctor about it. Surely most men couldn't last this long… She wondered if he was keeping himself erect through sheer force of will.

Eventually, she had to push him away.

"Enough, enough," she groaned, pushing on his shoulder. "Go get one of those plastic blow-up dolls. I need a break."

"Oh, come on," he complained, pressing kisses to her shoulder. "One more time, baby, please." He pressed his waist against her. "See?" he whispered in her ear. "I need you."

She shook him off. "You do know that you don't have to indulge every erection, right? That isn't how ED works. It won't resurface if you fail to get off now and again."

"Maybe it will. Humor me." He pouted theatrically. "Come on, I'm delicate. Don't sabotage my recovery process. I'm fragile here."

"You're an idiot is what you are." She sighed, laying back against the only pillow they hadn't already knocked to the carpet. "But fine. One more time. Just... Remember that my vagina's not indestructible, okay? So do me a favor and go easy on me, would you?"

His face broke in a wide smile. "Didn't think I'd ever live to hear you say that."

"Watch yourself." She pointed an accusing finger in his face. "You won't live to hear me say much more if you keep acting like this."

He held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "Easy, Army. I'm not here to pick a fight."

Her eyes brightened. "You're not, are you? Strange, it felt a lot like a fight earlier."

He grinned. "Did it?" He bent down and pressed a kiss to her stomach. "You like that?"

"Mmm…" She closed her eyes, humming softly. "I like it when I have energy," she allowed.

"But you have none now?" he guessed. "Well, that's fine," he murmured, pressing a few more kisses to her stomach. "You just rest right there, and I'll make you feel real good."

"Mm. Will you now?"

His only response was to lower his head down past her stomach.

She didn't know how long she slept afterwards, but when she woke up, he was out cold. She lay still for a moment, relishing the warm feel of him wrapped around her. He had one arm draped over her side, and his chest was nestled so close to her back that she could feel it when he inhaled and exhaled. Carefully, she slipped out from under him and got to her feet.

She swore softly as she made her way to the bathroom; she could feel a soreness in her body that she wasn't accustomed to. She shuffled over to the bathroom, relieving herself before creeping over to the window. She pulled open the curtains an inch, and peered out into a dark parking lot.

As she made her way back to bed, she caught sight of the clock on the bedside table. It was just after two in the morning. With a yawn, she settled back into bed. When he didn't shift in his sleep to welcome her, she reached back and carefully lifted his arm, pulling it forward so it wrapped around her middle once more. Then she closed her eyes, and in minutes, she was asleep again.

He woke, as usual, at four AM. He blinked his eyes at the darkness around him; the only illumination came from the little bedside clock. He watched as the numbers changed to show 4:01.

Then he looked over to his other side.

She was still there. He smiled as he watched her sleep. She was curled up on her side, facing him. The sheets were tangled around her legs and a good chunk of her dark hair had fallen in front of her face. Cautiously, not wanting to wake her, he reached out a hand and brushed some of her hair over her shoulder. She didn't shift in her sleep, and he marveled at how peaceful she seemed. It wasn't often he saw her in anything but high gear.

After a few minutes, he got up and went to the bathroom. As quietly as he could, he ran the shower and washed off all the exertion from the last day. He smiled to himself as he did so; he couldn't remember how many times they'd had sex since arriving at this hotel, but he knew it had to be some kind of record. When she woke, maybe he'd ask her if she remembered. Or maybe they'd just add to their tally instead.

He toweled off in the bathroom, and once he was dry, he made his way quietly back to bed. He guessed she was somewhat awake—it was past four, after all—but if she was trying to grab a few extra minute of sleep, he wouldn't bother her.

But then a few minutes turned into many minutes, and soon enough it was four-thirty. With a sigh, he pressed a kiss against the curve of her shoulder and put his hand on her forearm, gently shaking her awake. They needed to get dressed and get out of here in fifteen minutes if she wanted to be back on base in time.

He whispered her name, shaking her arm more insistently now.

"No," she groaned, turning away from him. "No, I'm not fucking awake! Leave me alone, you maniac. I can't go again, Jesus Christ."

"I wasn't going to ask for that." He chuckled against her shoulder, pressing another kiss to her bare skin. She mumbled a doubtful reply, but he let it slide. He let thoughts of their schedule slide too, and instead thought only of her, and of all she'd given him the night before. He kissed her shoulder again, very softly, and his voice was a whisper when he next spoke.

"I just wanted to say thank you, is all."

She opened her eyes, peering at him warily. "'Thank you'?"

He nodded. "These last few weeks… Well, they weren't great. Not for either of us. But it means a lot that you're still around. That you… you know, that you tried to help me. I just—" On a whim, he bent down and kissed her forehead. "Thank you," he finished softly.

The look on her face when he pulled back was so affronted that he couldn't help but frown in concern, wondering what line he'd unknowingly crossed.

"What is it?" he wondered aloud.

"You just kissed my forehead. My forehead. How old are you, twelve?"

"I was trying to be non-sexual!"

"You're acting like sixth-grade boy."

"Well, I suppose I must seem young to you, you old spinster."

She smacked his chest. "Shut up. I'm only two years older than you."

"Twenty-six and still unmarried," he lamented. "An old maid if I ever saw one."

"Do you want me to get my gun and shoot you?"

"Mm, please do. You're hot when you handle weaponry."

She tried to glare at him but only managed to burst out laughing. "God, you're such a guy."

"Hey." He caught her eye. "It goes both ways. Don't tell me you don't like looking at me while I train. I know there's a reason you just happen to always be on base when I get back from the range."

A smile was fighting for control of her features. To his relief, she soon let it dominate. And then she moved a little closer to him.

"So what?" Her voice fell to a whisper as she looked at him. "What does it matter that I like watching you do what you're good at?"

"It doesn't matter," he murmured back, bending his head down to hers. "I just like hearing you say so, is all."

"Well, I like it." She paused, then added, "And I like you."

He smiled. "I like you too."

She closed her eyes and let him kiss her, sighing softly when she felt him wrap his arms around her and pull her on top of him.

"Do you want to hear what else I like?" she asked.

He hummed his approval, running his hands slowly over her bare back. "Tell me."

"I like the way you touch me," she whispered. "I like your hands and your arms and your chest. I like how strong you are, and how I can see it just by looking at you."

He tilted his head to the side, surprised. "You've dated Army grunts before," he pointed out.

She nodded.

"So what's different about me?"

She laughed. "Well, as you are so fond of pointing out every five seconds, you're not Army, you're a Marine. There's a world of difference, isn't there?"

She was mocking him, but he couldn't help but smile, wondering how much was truly mocking. He reached a hand up to brush some of her hair away from her face. When he spoke, his voice was soft, and without teasing. "Do you like the difference?" he asked, genuinely curious.

She met his honesty with her own. "I do," she whispered back.

He couldn't resist kissing her then, and she didn't stop him. She lifted her hands to his head, her fingers slipping right through his buzz cut as usual, unable to find any purchase but not seeming to mind regardless. She ran her hands through his hair again and again, as he tangled his firmly in hers.

He loved her long dark hair, loved the way she always kept it tied up tight only to let it down when they were alone together. He loved how soft it was, and how it always smelled so good, regardless of whether the scent was perfume or perspiration.

When he tugged lightly on the strands and pushed himself up into her, she whispered his name sharply.

"What?" he murmured between kisses. "Don't tell me you're tapping out already. Come on, now. Where's your stamina?"

"You used it all up last night," she complained, though she did so with a pout, and he grinned, never having seen that particular expression on her face before. It made him kiss her again, and tug her body closer.

"Just once more before we go back?" he whispered, his hands migrating around to the front of her body. "For me?"

She laughed. "As if this night hasn't been all about you already."

"I didn't hear you complaining when you got your fair share. Three times over, might I add."

"That's true." Her eyes were so bright they seemed to dance when she grinned. "I should make those sorts of agreements with you more often."

"Mm, I'd hope not," he frowned.

"Why not? Hasn't the payoff been worth it?"

"Very worth it," he agreed. "But it's the original reason for the payoff I'm not so fond of."

She turned toward him with a grin. "Oh, don't worry, Marine. You've bounced back once. I'm sure you can do it again."

"And I bet you can too," he answered, taking ahold of her hips and rolling them over so her back was to the mattress and he hovered above her. "What do you think?" He bent his mouth to her neck. "Once more and I'll leave you be, I promise. Then it's back to the base."

He felt her sigh at the reminder, and then nod. He kissed her neck again, then her mouth. He went easy with her, as asked. He had pushed them further than usual this trip, even his own body was telling him this, and so he went slow. For a while he did nothing more than kiss her and touch her, until she grew impatient and pulled him closer.

She blew out a loud breath when she took him in, and he gritted his teeth, doing his best to stay still, to let her steer them. He caressed her thighs, and when she bent low to kiss him, he brought his hands up to cradle her face. For a few minutes, they held each other, kissing, until she whispered to him to turn them over.

He did so gently, and then began to move in her, as slowly as he could manage. It wouldn't take either of them long; he knew that from the outset. They were both spent, after so much time off and suddenly so much time on, and so he did his best to make it quick.

Before long, she was clutching at his back, whispering his name. He nodded in reply, breathless; he could feel she was near the end and knew what she needed.

"I'll get you there, don't worry," he promised, picking up the pace.

She dug her nails in, groaning. "Oscar."

"I'll get you there, I'll get you there," he panted.

"No," she whispered.

He stopped at once, pulling back so he could look at her.

"Keep going," she urged, pulling at his neck and leaning up to kiss him.

"But you said…"

"I know. But I didn't mean stop. I just meant… don't go too fast. Please," she added in a whisper, looking down.

He looked down too, worried now.

"Army, I—I'm not hurting you, am I?"

She was rolling her eyes before he'd even gotten the question out. "I'm not hurt, Marine, don't be stupid. I just…" She swallowed, her eyes still downcast. He didn't dare move a muscle while he waited for her to speak.

Finally, she did. Her words were very quiet, and unbelievably soft.

"I don't want it to end so soon," she whispered. "Please, O."

He touched her face, lifting her chin so their eyes could meet. "It's not going to end. Nothing has to end."

"Marine—"

"I'm serious," he whispered to her. "Nothing has to end unless we decide, okay? You and me."

She swallowed again, hard, and he could see the reticence there—the truth she didn't want to speak. This could all end at any time. They could be found out, arrested, imprisoned, killed.

But it wasn't death that scared her. It wasn't prison.

"I just don't want it to end," she repeated, shutting her eyes.

She didn't say anything else, and neither did he. Instead he kissed her, and held her close, and they both tried to draw it out as long as possible. By the time they got to the end, they were both panting and sweating and it was a relief, such a sweet relief, to finally fall over the edge together.

After, once they had cooled off and caught their breath, they remained together in bed. She did not move away from him as she had so many times in the past. Instead, once she had some strength back, she rolled onto her side and turned towards him. He stared in surprise when she reached out a hand to hold his. They never did things like this.

He kept waiting for her to leave, but after a couple minutes, it was clear she wasn't going anywhere. He shifted his hand in hers so that their fingers might lace together. Then he bent forward and kissed her once, slowly. When he began to pull away, she shifted closer. She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. He watched her for a long, silent moment.

"I thought you said last night that you had to get back to the base before morning," he said quietly.

"I say a lot of things, Marine," she whispered into his skin.

Then, without opening her eyes, she reached over and slung her free arm over his stomach. She hooked a couple fingers around his ribcage and used the leverage to pull herself closer. He smiled as he watched her, and then he wrapped an arm around her back himself. Neither of them let the other go for many hours.

A/N: Reviews would be lovely! Thank you for reading. :)