Slightly interesting chapter xD getting into the romance a bit now! Sorry if we've caused you pain by making you wait xD hope you're enjoying the fanfic so far nonetheless, and I hope you continue enjoying it!

Hogan buried his face into his pillow, feeling as though he was fifteen, all over again. This feeling of such anger gushed through him, like water spewing out of a busted hose. And the worst thing was, he didn't even know why he was angry. So what, Hilda was marrying Klink? She was just another German girl. What was so special about her? He could get a hundred of her back home, just for being a Yankee Air Force hero! Why was he so burnt up about just another blonde dame?

Well, Klink wasn't exactly a blonde dame.

What the hell is wrong with you, Robert?

Was it Klink he was thinking of?

No it's not, you idiot.

Hogan then thought; yes, when he returned back to America after the war, he could get dames. Yes, as many dames as he wanted. But he wouldn't see his mother. No, she was dead.

Hogan felt his eyes burn with tears.

Hogan sat alone in a dark room. Across from him, he could see his mother, sitting silently in her rocking chair, staring into her son's eyes with next to no emotion. Hogan tried to approach her, but no matter how much he tried, he never seemed to approach her. Frustrated, he threw his hands down by his side, peering into his mother's cold dark eyes.

'Mom, I'm sorry…'

She sat silent. Her eyes weren't the warm, loving dark eyes Hogan remembered. No, they were cold, icy excuses for pupils. The very sight of them made Hogan shudder.

'Mom… I wanted to come home… I can't, my place is here… There's a war on!'

Silence met Hogan's ears.

But then Hogan realised that it wasn't infact his mother, glaring across at him, but Hilda. Through firm, yet painted lips, she whispered,

'And here I thought you were jealous for me.'

'What? I am!'

But then she was gone. As the dream panned on, it was as though Hogan had forgotten all about what he had just seen; he was now in Klink's office, watching the Kommandant parade about his desk in a fine black suit. Hogan guessed he was just about to wed Hilda.

'How do I look, Hogan?'

'Do you want the truth?' Hogan asked, testingly. Klink swived around, shooting Hogan a very peculiar look.

'Yes. The honest truth!'

'Then I think you look fucking fine,' said Hogan, unzipping his leather jacket. Klink's jaw dropped, watching Hogan with keen eyes as he leant up against his desk, arching his back in a seductive position. He was sure that if this were for real, Klink would have reacted in quite a different fashion, as apposed to how he did – Klink moved closer to him, his face printed with a look of curiosity. Hogan gazed up at him, sneering.

'What's the matter, Kommandant? Haven't you ever fucked a Yank?'

Klink's lips parted, but no words came, only his hands, soon meeting with Hogan's hips. Hogan reacted, pressing his backside against Klink's crotch.

'Is that a gun in you pocket Kommandant, or are you just excited to see me?'

'H-hogan, I…'

'Want my ass? I thought so.'

Klink's hands caressed the outline of Hogan's hardness, causing his body to jolt. Hogan took ahold of Klink's hands, guiding them around the noticeable outline of his hardened member, groaning slightly into Klink's ear. He could see Klink through the corner of his eye, so overcome with both curiosity and surprise, that he didn't know what to do with himself. All Hogan knew was, that something belonging to Klink was rubbing up against his backside.

The feeling was unbelievable; Hogan, a man who thrived on control, was in the hands of his German Kommandant, his privates fondled by the kraut's very own hands. And he loved it. He loved every second of it. He had never felt such yearning to have another man rule him like this.

'Hogan,' Klink exhaled, his body hot against the American Colonel's. 'We shouldn't be doing this...'

'Why not?'

'Because…'

'It feels good, doesn't it?'

'Y-yes, but that's –'

'Then why don't you shut up and fuck me?'

Klink's eyes widened. 'But, H-hogan –'

'And that's an order.'

Hogan had never seen Klink work at such speed – undoing his belt, followed by Hogan's. Although his hands were trembling, Hogan knew that was due to excitement. Klink was flushed in the face, as his bare hands met with Hogan's raw hardness.

'Oh Kommandant,' Hogan groaned, thrusting into Klink's hand. 'More… More… I want you… I want to feel you… inside of me…'

Hogan didn't have time to realise just how hard he was upon awakening that morning, for Klink had ordered him into his office, first thing. He was steaming over the rude message Hogan had sent him through Schultz last night, and was just about to blow his top at him. That was until Hilda asked for a word with Klink, no doubt telling him of her desire to marry him, without her father's permission.

'But, I thought you wanted to wait –'

'I have heard nothing from my father for months,' Hilda pleaded (to Hogan's great annoyance, Hilda had chosen to preform her little dramatic act in front of him), 'let's wait no longer, shall we? With all this uncertainty of the war… Who knows what lays around the corner… Let us marry within the month, yes?'

Hogan couldn't recall much else of the conversation, for he was grinding his teeth fairly loudly.

'What is that irritating grinding sound?' Klink grumbled, the black telephone close to his ear (he had called Burkhalter to tell him that their little party tonight would now be an engagement party, of sorts).

'No idea, Kommandant,' said Hogan, continuing to grind.

'Now, Hogan,' said Klink, his smile spread from cheek to cheek. 'I think, due to recent events, that we should forget all about last night's little misunderstanding, yes?'

'You're the Kommandant.'

'And, another thing, Hogan, I would much like it if you were to attend this party tonight, for you see, even though you are our enemy –'

'I was already coming, Colonel,' Hogan flashed a large, yet very fake smile. His heart was beating so quickly, he was almost sure Klink had heard it (over his teeth grinding, maybe). It was all happening too fast for him. Now Hilda and Klink were getting married, within the month. Hogan's stomach dropped, as though he were flying, and dropping, at a great speed. He felt sick. By now, he was sick of trying to convince himself he was in love with Hilda. He was sick of trying to convince himself he wasn't harbouring romantic feelings for Klink.

Klink was busily phoning 'friends' and colleagues, inviting them to their little 'engagement party' tonight. Hogan had to stop to remind himself that it might be an engagement party for Klink, but it was a secret interrogation by the Gestapo. Hopefully they couldn't sniff out suspected fags, for they'd round up Hogan for sure.

You're not a fag. You like women. You've just muddled up confused feelings of affections for the Kommandant, that's all. Like a fatherly figure, actually.

Except I never fantasised about being fucked by my father.

Fucking damnit.

'There's that grinding sound again!' Klink grumbled, coving the speaker piece of his phone with his hand.

(SCENE CHANGE)

'So tonight, nothing suspicious,' told Hogan, that evening at the party, in the quiet of the kitchen. 'We're just guests at Klink's engagement/Gestapo interrogation party. Got it?'

'Oui,' LeBeau grumbled. 'Except we are not guests, mon Colonel. You are the only guest!'

'Yeah, why do we have to wait on the bloody krauts?' grunted Newkirk, pulling his white apron over his head. 'And we ain't even getting anything out of it!'

'Hey, hey come on now,' Hogan sneered, 'this is old Klink's engagement party! Everything's gotta go swimmingly – otherwise the Gestapo will think something's up. Remember, don't draw attention to you yourselves! Somewhere out there in that crowd of officers is a Gestapo agent, inspecting the behaviour of General Wolfgang.'

'What happens if their suspicions are true?' Carter asked, picking up a tray of alcoholic beverages. 'We won't know!'

'Look, I've made contact with that agent from the other week,' said Hogan, quietly, 'she's gonna tell us whether this Wolfgang guy gets cleared or not. If not, then we're gonna have to smuggle him out of Germany. As a military General, he could provide us with a lot of useful information.'

General Wolfgang soon arrived with Burkhalter and a number of other generals and colonels, looking just as Germanly strict as his comrades. If he was a queer, thought Hogan, then he was hiding it extremely well. He tried his best to ignore Klink and Hilda, who were showering the officers in burst of open affections. It made his insides turn.

'If she really feels that way about Klink, then I think the Colonel should just forget her,' said Carter, smiling as another officer took a glass of wine from his silver tray.

'Easier said than done, Carter my dear friend,' said Newkirk, his hands behind his back. 'What do you make of the Wolfgang bloke?'

'The suspect-'

'Shhh!' Newkirk roused, his finger on his lips.

'Uh, I think he looks pretty normal,' shrugged Carter, taking another glimpse of the German general. 'What about you?'

'Doesn't seem like a queer to me,' Newkirk said, 'but I guess you never know with them.'

Hogan tried to be himself. He tried his usual approach to the other German officers, with friendly joking and cracking wise, but that irritating giggle of Klink's and Hilda's was weighing on him, like a led of steel on his back. How long he could keep his fake smile up for, he didn't know. All he knew was, with every shot of whiskey, everything seemed slightly better. And by his fifth glass of wine, Hogan's world was beginning to spin.

He usually controlled himself with his alcohol intake, especially when attending one of Klink's little gatherings. But tonight, he seized the opportunity to a bit of emotion-numbing alcohol. After all, it wasn't him they were interrogating, right? It was that queer Wolfgang! Hogan had been hard at work for the past three weeks, he deserved a drink!

He deserved a drink, yes, but his sense of control seemed to have disappeared. By nine o'clock, Hogan was staggering around the room, slurring loudly, laughing defiantly (bagging Klink as much as possible to the other generals) and spilling his whiskey all over Klink's clean carpet.

'Hogan!' Klink roused.

'Hey,' Carter whispered, tilting his head in Hogan's direction. 'The Colonel sure does a good job of pretending to be drunk!'

'I don't think he's pretending, Carter,' Newkirk rolled his eyes, offering another officer a glass of wine.

'You mean he's really that drunk?'

'Well, does it look like it to you, Carter?'

'Mmm, I guess…'

Hogan flopped down onto Klink's couch, spilling a glass of wine onto Klink's fine silk pillows.

'Hogan,' Klink lowered his voice, so the other officers couldn't hear him, 'what do you think you are doing!'

'Why, shagging your couch, Kommandant!'

Klink's jaw dropped, although he wasn't too sure what shagging meant, only that it was probably rude.

'I will not stand here and watch you make rude gestures to my couch! If you cannot hold your liquor Hogan, you and your men will be sent back to the barracks! Do you understand that?'

'Perfectly,' Hogan smiled, thrusting his hips once into Klink's couch. Klink's eyes widened, looking around quickly to make sure none of the other officers had witnessed Hogan's uncouth behaviour. Testingly, Klink leant down to Hogan, waving his bare finger around in his face.

'I'm warning you, Hogan! There are men from Berlin here, powerful men! I will not tolerate your childish behaviour! You are supposed to be my guest, and here you are, drunk as a dog, preforming, rude actions, on my couch!'

'Hey come on, Colonel, chill! Hogan muttered, sitting up. 'This is meant to be your engagement party! You're supposed to be enjoying yourself!'

'I would if you would stop embarrassing me in front of these Generals!' Klink sighed.

'Heh, you want embarrassing? You should hear about the dreams I've been having!'

'Hogan I don't care about your dreams!'

'Not even if you're in them?'

'Enough of this!' Klink straightened his back. 'One more hoot out of you Hogan, and you'll be spending a cold night in the cooler!'

'Couldn't be any worse than where I sleep now,' yawned Hogan. But Klink didn't have time to retaliate, for Hilda had taken his hand, leading him back to where General Burkhalter and the others were chinwagging. Hogan watched through squinted eyes. He fumbled to his feet, almost falling forward over the coffee table.

'Colonel, if I may say so,' Newkirk began, helping Hogan to his feet, 'I think you've had a bit much of the old juice.'

'Heh, not enough, you mean,' said Hogan, taking another glass of wine from Newkirk's silver tray, drinking it as though it were water. Newkirk winced; if Hogan continued sculling wine and whiskey at this pace, he would surely vomit. After all, it had been a while since any of them had had a proper drink. Their tolerance for liquor was next to nil.

'Congratulations, Colonel Klink,' said a fat general, raising his glass, 'your lovely Fraulein is quite a catch, indeed!'

'Why thank you Herr General!' Klink beamed.

'How long did you say the both of you have been, eh, secretly engaged?'

'Oh, around two years now,' said Hilda, attached to Klink's arm.

Hogan watched from the other side of the room, his hands crunched into fists. Newkirk and Carter decided it was safest to stick close to the American Colonel, for after consuming that much alcohol, he was liable to do anything, especially when the one he desired was right before his eyes, in the hands of another man.

Or in the hands of another girl.

'Come on, gov,' Newkirk whispered, tugging at Hogan's shoulder. 'I think we'd better tuck in, aye?'

'Yeah,' Carter followed Newkirk's lead, giving a loud, fake yawn, 'I'm pretty worn out myself!'

'Yeah? Well I'm all fired up.' Said Hogan, advancing forward, in Klink's direction.

'Now come on Colonel,' Newkirk attached himself to one of Hogan's sleeves, 'it's not worth causing an uproar, is it?'

'Yeah, especially in front of all these Generals,' said Carter, attached to Hogan's other sleeve. 'Anyway, that Gestapo agent is here, remember? You told us to keep our heads low!'

But Hogan was able to wriggle away from Carter's and Newkirk's grasp, stomping forward to Klink. Carter and Newkirk watched, unsure of what they should do next.

'Shouldn't we hold him back?' Carter asked.

'Unless you want his fist in your face too, I think we'd better stay out of it.'

'But if the Colonel does something stupid, he wouldn't hit us –'

'Carter, he's drunk beyond belief,' Newkirk sighed, 'he'd mistake you for a kraut in two seconds.'

'You know, you don't say very nice things, Newkirk.'

'Well well, touchy tonight, ain't we?' Newkirk huffed. 'Don't get your knickers in a knot, darling.'

'Yeah, don't use that cheesy talk on me,' Carter grumbled, rasing his tray as another German officer took a glass from it.

Hogan staggered between Klink and Hilda, almost knocking Hilda's glass from her hand. Snorting, Hogan straightened up his tie.

'Not interrupting, am I?'

'Well as a matter of fact –'

'Good good,' Hogan grinned, cutting off Klink's words. He leant up against Klink for balance, something Klink found quite suspicious. Wriggling him off, Klink turned to him, whispering through thin lips,

'Hogan. One more strike and you're out.'

'But we're not playing baseball!'

'Hogan!'

'Would you like to dance, Kommandant?' Hogan asked, airily. Klink's face wrinkled, watching as Hogan floated about, to the rhythm of Beautiful Dreamer, chiming away in the background. 'Or maybe Fraulein Hilda would waltz with me? Or maybe even General Wolfgang, where he may be –'

'That's it, Hogan,' Klink snarled through clenched teeth. Through the gatherings of generals and other officers, Klink dragged Hogan, trying his best to avoid attention. Hogan was drunk out of his mind. After Klink had a private word with him (a few very hot tempered words), he would shut him away in the cooler for the night. That would teach him for getting stupidly drunk, embarrassing Klink in front of his superiors! Embarrassing him in front of Hilda! Burkhalter! Klink shoved Hogan into another bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

'Boy, the Colonel's really gone and done it now,' said Carter, looking concerned.

'He's the one telling us not to draw attention to ourselves!' Newkirk whispered, shaking his head. 'And there he goes, blimin drunker than a mad donkey, blurting out General Wolfgang's name! Doesn't he remember that there's a ruddy Gestapo spy somewhere here?'

'Tsk, where is the Kommandant?' Schultz whispered, appearing from within the kitchen.

'Probably lecturing Colonel Hogan in the next room,' said Carter.

'Lecturing Colonel Hogan?'

'Drunker than a march hare,' Newkirk rolled his eyes.

'Oh, maybe it was because of the Kommandant and Fraulein Hilda,' whispered Schultz, crumbs falling from his little moustache, into Newkirk's wine glasses.

'No ruddy reason to get that plastered.'

Inside of the empty bedroom Klink had pulled Hogan into, the furious Kommandant stood, waving is finger about in the American Colonel's face.

'I warned you Hogan, and now your three strikes are up! Maybe a night in the cooler will sober you up!'

'I personally think that I'll sober up faster if I just went straight back to my barracks –'

'Forget it Hogan!' Klink spat. 'I have been very patient with you tonight. I invite you to a gathering of German officers – nothing to do with you Americans, the enemy, but us Germans, when I could have just left you to rot in your barracks! And how do you pay me in return? Dink yourself silly! Make a fool of me in front of General Burkhalter! Make a fool of me in front of Fraulein Hilda!'

'Aren't you already her fool?' Hogan sneered a crooked smile. Klink was not smiling.

'You know what, I really don't understand you, Hogan. If I were in your position, I would have appreciated the generosity of my commanding officer, allowing a prisoner of war to accompany a German party –'

'Come on now, Kommandant!' Hogan staggered forward. 'You're not really upset over this, are you?'

'As a matter of fact I am!' Klink puffed his chest out. 'All I asked from you was a little respect!'

Well that's not all I want to give you, Kommandant, Hogan thought, his eyes peering deep into Klink's blue ones. He looked positively devastated, standing there with his hands behind his back, squinting through his monocle. Hogan guessed he had made Klink out to be a bit of an idiot in front of his other officers, but then again, he always did! Even without him there, the other officers would still find Klink a fool! Surely Klink was used to this now? Or perhaps he really was embarrassed, in front of Hilda… Hogan's head began to dance. If he wasn't so sure that it wasn't, Hogan would have thought the room was spinning.

You've had too much… You drank that wine too fast…

Hogan had always been pretty good with holding his alcohol, especially whiskey, but he had no control over wine. Wine wiped him clean off his feat. He could keep drinking it like an ordinary soda, until it was too late to realise he was drunk.

Swaying from side to side, Hogan tried to keep his gaze concentrated on Klink's cross face, but that seemed like a mission in itself. At seeing Hogan's struggle, Klink's facial muscles tensed, his arms automatically out, ready to catch the Yank if he were to loose his balance.

Hogan caught his balance on his own, holding his spinning head.

'I don't feel so great…'

'I think you should be escorted straight to the cooler,' said Klink, trying to keep his firm tone of voice. 'You can pass out there. Tomorrow morning you will awaken to the consequences of your foolish drunken actions -'

Hogan fumbled forward, his feet unable to keep balance. Automatically, Klink stretched out for Hogan's unbalanced body, stumbling backwards as Hogan fell into his arms.

'Hogan!' Klink roused, his back up against the bedroom wall. 'Stand straight this –'

And that's when it happened. Through pure impulse, Hogan's dry lips met with Klink's firm ones, forcing his wet, warm tongue into the astonished Kommandant's mouth. Klink could taste the sweet wine on Hogan's succulent tongue, exploring every last inch of mouth. It was a kiss of such passion and lust, the very feel of having lips of these aspects on his own made Klink forget who's lips these belonged to.

Klink must have been so taken by surprise, thought Hogan, for he remained perfectly still, with Hogan in his arms for a total of four seconds, before forcing their lips apart.

For a moment, Klink stood in awe, obviously too taken back by Hogan's sudden actions of lust to comprehend what had just happened. It was then, Hogan broke his drunk, loving gaze, and collapsed to his knees. Klink was seemingly too rooted to the floor with confusion to assist him, as he began vomiting his stomach up.

'What is all the commotion about in here?' Burkhalter opened the door, flinching at the sight of a throwing-up Hogan.

Klink could feet his heart beat thumping in his ears. Whatever had just happened, he couldn't think about, not just yet. His hands were shaking behind his back. If Burkhalter had just come in a moment earlier…

Klink shuddered.

He had no time to feel disgusted in what Hogan did, for Hogan had just passed out on the floor, face first in his own vomit.

Not very pleasant passing out in your own vomit is it LOL. But now Hogan has made some advances on Klink and I hope it excited you as much as it excites us LOL! It can only get better from here on! Next chapter once again will be updated weekly! So please make sure you leave a review :D we will be thrilled to hear from you! Thank you! Hope you liked!