Hi, my dear readers,

YEAH, I knew that you would love the first 'hot' scene – even if it was only the first dream that will be the start for a more haunting nightly imaginations of our dear colonel. The next one will be in this chapter – and, as you're going to see – the results will be more drastically (*he-he*).

But that's not all. Klink shows that he means it really serious with his more active support of the Unsung Heroes; he and Robert will talk about more secrets and – in the end – you all are going to need a little cold drink again, while you certainly will also laugh your heads of, because… 'Boy', the genius of the most reckless Underground-organization really can be daft sometimes.

So, have fun.

Thank you so much for the big feedback concerning the last chapter; I promise the next ones will be even better.

Love

Yours Starflight

Chapter 27 – Forbidden longing

"Prisoners, I heard through the grapevine that you are all freezing your butts off because of the damn cold this early in the morning. And I don't think it will surprise you that the same goes for my men and me."

The beginning of Klink's morning speech elicited a lot of grimaces, silent groans and scowls, but what came then baffled everyone within the camp – POWs and guards.

"The weather is bad enough to prevent anyone from emerging outside for whatever reason, but we all have to stay here because some desk-jockeys in their warm, nice offices came up with the idea of an early roll call. Well, someone we all know asked me 'how early is early', and it gave me an idea. What do you think about postponing the subsequent morning roll calls so they take place an hour later until further notice – or until the sun decides to honor us with his presence and herald the warmth of spring again?"

Schultz and Langenscheidt, both wrapped in blankets, with ear-flaps beneath their steel helmets and scarfs around their throats, stared with big eyes at their superior officer; almost gaping. And the POWs didn't look less thunderstruck, which obviously pleased Klink, because he chuckled quietly.

For a long moment everyone remained silent, then the first applause was to hear – and Klink's chuckle turned into a smile; a true smile, not the gleeful smirk he had shown so often in the past.

"I take it that you agree to this suggestion. So, morning roll calls will start an hour later until the weather isn't that ugly any more. Like this none of us will be exposed to the coldest time of the day. Take it as a late Christmas-gift. Dismissed!"

The applause that followed was genuine and spontaneous, while many faces beamed at him. Most of them knew to whom Klink had referred by saying 'someone we all know', and not for the first time the POWs were secretly glad that Hogan was on good terms with the Kommandant. It made many things easier for them.

And, unknown to them, the German guards thought the same.

*** HH ***

The morning went by peacefully, if you didn't count Hogan's increasing restlessness that had its roots not only in him being bored half out of his mind, but mainly on his mind being seemingly unable to fixate on something other than this crazy dream and his body's reaction to it – something he had to force away over and over again.

Kinchloe and LeBeau stopped by in the early midday, and while Louis went to the kitchen, Kinch gave his superior a short report. Like this Hogan learned what Klink had announced during the last morning roll call. Hogan had heard the noises and had hoped that the applause was heartfelt, happening because of Klink having listened to his suggestion. It really pleased him that the older man had taken his proposal to heart and had given into it.

Kinch also told Hogan that London was happy to have a new information source – even if the brass didn't know that the new source was none other than Stalag 13's Kommandant – and that they were eager for more details about the upcoming serial production of the Messerschmitt.

Knowing this, Kinch had already contacted the Underground in the late morning and spoken with Hans Wagner, who was glad that Hogan had been able to be rescued and was doing a little bit better. He promised to spearhead some investigations concerning places where the secret underground facility could be, but he already had some information about these increasing transports heading to the middle west.

With some luck the one or other train with the assumed components for the ME-262 would bypass the area around Hammelburg. If so, they could kill two birds with one stone: Sabotaging the beginning of the German air-fighter's serial-production, and giving Berlin proof that Papa Bear was still active, which would prevent Burkhalter from pondering too much about Hochstetter's certainly given statements concerning Hogan.

In the middle of the discussion they heard the front entrance opening and closing, and Hogan didn't even need to look through the open door of the sleeping chamber to know that Klink had returned for an early midday break. It seemed his senses had increased a dozen times over when it came to the Kommandant's presence.

Kinchloe rose and walked to the door. "Good day, Colonel Klink," he greeted politely.

The older man wasn't surprised to see the dark-skinned American in his private place. For days now Hogan's men were coming and going to their liking to spend time with their slowly healing superior. And since 'the talk' yesterday, Klink anticipated seeing them here even more often. And, what took him indeed a little by surprise, he didn't mind. "Good day, Sergeant. I hope I'm not disturbing anything," he answered; removing his cap.

"No, you aren't," Kinchloe said. "I'm just paying the colonel a visit."

"Before he turns mad with boredom," LeBeau called from the kitchen.

"LeBeau!" Hogan groaned; asking himself when his men would stop being such big mother-hens.

The left edge of Klink's mouth curled upwards. "And there I thought the gentlemen would maybe be discussing the next mission." He stripped off his coat and scarf, hung both at the hall stand and placed the cap and his riding-crop on the dresser. "LeBeau, whatever you're cooking, it smells formidable," he called into the direction of the kitchen, while he walked towards the sleeping chamber.

"Merci, Colonel Klink," came the casual reply from the next room – and Hogan smiled to himself as he realized that Kinch and LeBeau seemed to have come to terms with the new situation and had begun to accept Klink, at least as a supporter.

Kinchloe made room for the Oberst as he entered the sleeping chamber. Klink's glance found the sitting figure on the bed, and for a long moment both men only looked at each other. The Kommandant lifted both brows. Was he mistaken or had the younger man's eyes lightened up as he saw him? He didn't dare hope for it.

"I can't take responsibility for your turning mad, so maybe some scheming would be good for you," he tried a soft joke.

"You think so?" Hogan smirked. "I fear that I will get rusty if I don't get anything to do soon."

"So you've decided to do your job from bed," the Oberst nodded. "Typical of you. Others take their breakfast in bed, and you scheme plots."

"Every man has a hobby," the colonel commented wryly, which earned him a chuckle from his German counterpart.

Kinch stuck his hands in the pockets of his parka. "You said that we shouldn't remain idle for too long," he addressed Klink, who sighed,

"Yes, a little turmoil would be perfect – preferably with an useful outcome as a side-effect." He looked at Hogan. "Do your contacts have a task for you, or shall I get you one?"

Kinch stared at him. Was Klink really offering them close to active support?

"Do you have any information about routes the trains transporting the components for the ME-262 take?" Hogan asked bluntly.

Klink rolled his eyes. "Do you want to blow up another bridge or just the train?"

"A missing bridge delays all trains," Hogan deadpanned.

"Yes, it would force the trains to take another route that may be a time-eating detour, but the components would arrive nevertheless."

"So, it's a cargo train and a bridge," Kinchloe said carefully; watching the German officer closely.

Klink sighed. "Correct. I don't have any detailed information on the routes, but I know one thing for sure: The wings for the ME-262 V5 are produced near Stuttgart – in the Engelbergtunnel. The tunnel was built for the new highway that connects the west with the east in South-Germany, but was extended and altered three years ago to serve as a secret and hidden factory that produces the wings. Those wings have to be brought to the new location where the Messerschmitt's serial-production will start. And if this top-secret facility is somewhere in the East, like London assumes, because of the many transports heading into this direction, the train or trains with the wings must pass through North-Bavaria. Maybe this is something for your men, Hogan."

The colonel nodded slowly. He himself had thought about something like this, and was glad that Klink saw it the same way. He looked up at Kinchloe, who had pursed his lips, caught his superior's gaze and made one tiny movement with his head. This was a case for the Underground and its Germany-wide net. Wagner, Danzig and the others had friends everywhere, and when suddenly hundreds of aircraft wings were loaded on trains in Stuttgart or another town nearby, they would learn of it within a short range of time.

Klink hadn't missed the short mute exchange between the two Americans and had correctly assumed that Hogan had given Kinchloe the order to get more details by contacting the Underground. He asked himself, not for the first time, how well organized Hogan's little espionage ring was for real.

"If you find out something more detailed and plan some action, let me know if you need an alibi for that time or if I can support you with something else," he said quietly.

Hogan glanced up at him. "You don't have to do this," he said softly. "If you look away it will help us enough."

"Or maybe not, given the fact that already two Gestapo-officers more or less found out about you, and that the brass certainly will be even more suspicious as soon as Hochstetter makes his official statements," the Oberst replied. "Like I told you: We have to be very careful now. So, if there is a way to increase your safety during your missions, I'm with you."

The colonel couldn't help the smile that spread over his colorful face. "Thanks, Kommandant," he said gently.

"And like I said: If one things is for sure then it's the fact that Colonel Klink will keep you safe, mon Colonel." LeBeau leant against the door frame; arms crossed, with the cooking hat on his head and an apron bound around his waist.

"He keeps us safe, Louis," Hogan replied strongly.

"By protecting you," LeBeau nodded; beaming widely.

Klink felt heat rising to his cheeks – had the tiny Frenchman figured him out? He felt Hogan's eyes resting upon him and didn't dare glance at his direction; fearing he would reveal too much. Clearing his throat he looked down at LeBeau, who was smirking broadly. "Colonel Hogan is right, Corporal. Yesterday, I explained to you all my reasons and motivations for first suspecting and then supporting you for two years now. Yes, your commanding officer and I have become friends, and friends are there for each other, but the aid of your missions includes you all."

LeBeau chuckled, "If you say so." And then a certain strong smell wafted through the living room.

"My sauce!" Louis shouted and raced back towards the kitchen; holding his cooking hat not to lose it.

Klink sighed. Sometimes he really asked himself how it was possible that this gang of oversized boys was able to keep half of Germany's war machinery at bay.

*** HH ***

The afternoon came and went, and finally the evening dawned over the country – very much to Hogan's delight. None of his friends had stopped by after midday, the book had been read was finished, and there was nothing for him to do despite lying there and desperately trying to concentrate on making plans for the upcoming new mission. And, to his dismay, last night's dream kept popping up in his mind at the most unwelcome moments.

Klink was back for dinner just in time, and only after they had already been sitting there for a quarter hour, chattering and talking, did Hogan become aware that these meals together were something he could get used to. The atmosphere was relaxed and casual; the fire in the furnace spread comfortable warmth through the living room and the switched-on lights increased this odd feeling of being almost at home.

After the ordnance had cleared the table, both men sat at the seating area – Hogan clad in the new housecoat LeBeau had tailored for him, and Klink in uniform plus his red housecoat. He had even loosened his tie and opened the collar, which showed how comfortable the Kommandant was feeling. He held a glass of wine in his right hand – and Hogan couldn't help the thought that Klink did it in an almost elegant way. Even the way the Oberst sat there – long legs crossed, leaning comfortably back and cocking his head – was in a certain way graceful. Why had he never seen this before?

'Easy,' came the unwelcome voice from another part of Hogan's mind, 'you'd never realized before that he is, in his own way, attractive.'

No! Not this again!

He shifted a little bit, glanced at the cup of tea in his own hand and concentrated on the conversation with the older man – only Klink didn't say anything but was lost in own thoughts; looking at the wine that shimmered in the glass. Then the Oberst's expression changed and he tensed up. He seemed to get nervous all of a sudden.

"What is it?" Hogan asked. He really didn't like seeing Will anxious.

Klink glanced at him in brief surprise. "You really know me, don't you?"

The colonel gave him a short smile. "Yeah."

The Kommandant snorted. "Of course you do. No-one can play another like you did if they don't know the other inside out." He took a deep breath. "I was thinking again about the incident with Major Hegel, and I couldn't help asking myself how he found out about your intelligence identity and missions, at all. If he learned all those details, maybe someone else can do it, too. And then you – we all – are in deep water."

Hogan sighed. "You don't have to fear something like this. That Hegel learned about us was a chain of unlucky events. Like I said two days ago: Sometimes mercy comes back to kick you in the butt." He snorted. "You asked me how Hegel was able to contact me – and now how he found out about my men and me in the first place. Remember Jack Williams?"

Klink thought for a moment. "The guy who had been thrown out of every barracks in my camp, by his own people?" he asked, and shortly pursed his lips as Hogan nodded. "The same guy tried to escape but was caught by Schultz," Klink voiced his memories, "only to boast about a 'big secret of immense importance' he wanted to share with us if he would be released from captivity. He even demanded a big flat, money and many more things. He was killed while trying to blow up an artillery piece before he could reveal something."

"Did you know that he was about to give us – me – away?"

"I didn't know for sure about your secrets missions then, Hogan, yet I suspected that the man would try to discredit you. You and him had had some terse discussions before and I knew that he didn't obey you – that he loathed you." The Oberst placed the glass on the table. "Realizing that he was a traitor who expected me to be overjoyed to get information for the Third Reich, I pretended to play along. The truth is, I feared that he would discredit you enough that the Gestapo would arrest and maybe execute you because of this guy's statements, true or not. So I put him into the cooler. Officially, to protect him against his furious former comrades, in truth, because I wanted to silence him until I could find a way to shut him up for good without arousing Burkhalter's suspicion."

Hogan stared at him with wide eyes. "You… tried to shut him up to protect me? Even then? You said you only had some assumptions concerning my missions, yet you would have gone so far as to silence someone only because you thought he could be a danger to me?" Sweet Lord, did this mean that the older man had had feelings for him even then?

Klink shrugged. "He was a troublemaker of the most unpleasant sort – and he endangered the camp and you. So, yeah, I thought about ways to get rid of him. Preferably without sending him to his maker. I thought about how I could compromise him so that he was considered untrustworthy, but then he fled from the cooler and died in this explosion."

Hogan, becoming aware of the fact that Klink's affection for him had already existed for a longer time, cleared his throat. "He… he didn't die in the explosion. It was a trick." He saw the Oberst's eyes widening, and added, "We broke him out of the cooler, took his uniform jacket and placed it near the site of the explosion so that it was full of tracks. Williams… was smuggled out of the camp and was sent back to London to stand trial – or so I thought."

"You smuggled him to London?" There was real curiosity in the Kommandant's gaze now. "Through one of your tunnels and then someone picked him up?"

Hogan only lifted one shoulder and smiled almost sheepishly at him. "Yeah, just like this."

"Super," Klink groaned. "The oldest escape route you can think of – and right under my nose." He shook his head, before his glance softened again. "But concerning the tunnel's usage: I just got another assumption confirmed. Most of the people who would endanger you weren't killed, but smuggled away." The Oberst began to chuckle. "A good man, just like I stated a few times before."

Hogan made a face. "Yeah, but sometimes it isn't the best solution – especially in this case." He took a sip of tea and put the cup beside Klink's glass. "Williams escaped during the travel like I learned months later – after the incident with Hegel, who mentioned him. As it seems, Williams returned or stayed in Germany, got in contact with Hegel and gave my men and me away in exchange for a new life here – just like he'd tried to when he had still been here in Stalag 13."

"Sodding bastard!" the German officer hissed; fury shone in his eyes. "To betray his own comrades and his own country like this – for money and a good life! I am a traitor in my superiors' eyes, too – if they ever learn of my deeds. But I do it for a higher purpose – to stop Hitler and his mad followers. Williams was ready to sell his comrades for filthy lucre! That he had no honor was obvious as he made his offer. And I despised him the moment he sprawled arrogantly in the visitors' chair in my office and made his demands. I also learned later that he stole red-cross-packets and sold them to my men."

"That's not all. He cheated during card games, stole more from my men than only Red-Cross packages and was quick with his fists," Hogan growled, before he calmed down again. "I thought it best to send him to London so that he would be court-martialed instead of eliminating him, but this time my showing mercy got my men and me almost killed."

Klink sighed. "Yes, showing mercy can be deadly during a war, yet it also shows that we've still humanity left." He hesitated. "Do you know what has become of Williams? Not that he can still give you away and…"

"Hegel told us in the barn that he sent his 'assistant' to the Russian Front where he was killed. Hegel also killed his own confidante – the young woman who had offered milk to us a few days earlier. She was his closest assistant and…"

"He killed the woman?" Shocked, Klink stared at him, before he growled with deep anger, "Then he really deserved every bullet he got. Killing a female – just imagine!"

Hogan watched him with curiosity. That Klink was all gentlemanly as soon as a woman showed up or was involved in something was nothing new to the colonel. It was one of the reasons why he had problems imagining Klink being interested in males. Then, on the other hand, the Oberst came from a noble family and had been raised in this manner. Right, as far as Hogan knew Klink's family rooted in lower aristocracy – Junker, a title from the Middle Ages – but still, Wilhelm Klink had blue blood, so to say. Until the end of World War I, only members of the nobility had been allowed to visit a Military academy and Klink had studied in Potsdam (even with a third party interceding or not), which also spoke of his heritage. So it was no wonder that the Kommandant was the perfect gentleman when it came to women – and that he had a streak to protect weaker ones was a secret Hogan had revealed more than two years ago.

It didn't surprise Hogan that Klink was shocked and furious that the woman had been killed by Hegel, member of the Gestapo or not. Yet this was the sad everyday world in Hitler-Germany.

"The Gestapo doesn't differentiate between killing males or females," the American said quietly. "They just do it – and they haven't the tiniest scruple."

"Yes, and that's another thing that makes me sick to think about," Klink murmured and leant back again; a deep frown on his forehead. "At least this Williams can't whistle the blow anymore – one less danger that could cost you and your men your lives."

"And yours," Hogan added softly.

Klink winced a little bit, before he shrugged. "I didn't believe I would survive this war. As it seems, I may have a chance to live longer, but if not I'll die to keep my oath. This nuisance in Berlin has to be stopped, no matter what, or the Fatherland will be wiped out from the charts. I swore to protect my country." He looked at Hogan and placed a hand on his arm just above the still healing bruises of his wrists. "And I stand by my comrades. If they wear a different uniform than I do, then mine is nothing more than a cover – a mask. Just like you do when you slip in Wehrmacht-gray or SS-black. My loyalty lies with my people, and if this means turning traitor in the regime's eyes and it costs me my life, so be it." He squeezed Hogan's arm gently before he let go of it. "And, by the way, I drew back from old friends often enough to protect my own neck. Not any longer! If they catch you, I'll die along with you. At least then I won't be alone at my last walk."

'This is what you fear the most – being utterly alone. You ARE alone and this has certainly been the case for many, many years now. You're starved for human closeness – just like I am. And I fear that this will wash us away in a sea of emotions we can't control anymore,' Hogan thought.

His mind told him that he had recognized a truth he didn't want to accept until now. And so he ignored his inner voice as well as he could. But it wouldn't be any use, like he would learn later.

*** HH ***

Hogan went to bed earlier than Klink, who readied himself for the night but remained up a little bit longer; writing a private letter to his mother. He didn't know if the secret changes of the whole situation concerning his senior POW officer and the core-team around Hogan would lead to a good end, or if sooner or later the Gestapo – or Burkhalter – would figure out everything. It would mean certain execution, and therefore Klink wanted his mother to have at least one letter more.

It was almost eleven o'clock as he finally crept into his usual sleeping chamber and slipped into bed beside Hogan. The younger man was deeply asleep, and Klink was glad that the nightmares, which had tormented Robert this much, were obviously decreasing.

He had no clue that what was shaking Hogan were not the bad dreams, but those which rose from the depths of his soul – those, which were deliciously forbidden.

*** HH ***

And those dreams went on. Within the next two days, in which the Heroes waited for the Underground to come up with some more information and Klink continued his daily duty, Hogan was almost plagued with erotic fantasies of someone he had regarded first as an enemy, then as a weak opponent, finally as a friend and now… Well, he didn't know what Klink was to him by now, but one thing was sure: Whatever his unwanted but increasing feelings for the Kommandant were, they were slowly but certainly driving him nuts.

At least his healing proceeded unimpeded and Wilson had finally declared that his bronchitis had lessened to the level of a cold. His stretched muscles and sinews didn't hurt this bad anymore when he moved with almost normal speed. His legs still gave him problems and his back was still an ugly sight to behold – he really was glad for the bandages in this case – but the less severe bruises began to fade, while the other ones colored more and more.

Yet, on the outside, Hogan managed to mask everything. He joked with his friends when they visited him, he schemed some plots in case one of the transport-routes would bypass the area of Hammelburg, and he talked and bantered with Klink.

And especially the latter freed the suppressed feelings over and over again. He caught himself watching the Oberst more than ever before – and this out of completely different reasons. And he became aware of things he had never acknowledged before: How tall Klink was when he didn't walk like a bowed tree; the graceful way the uniform clung to his lean, slender body, the elegant movements of his long hands, the sparkle in his eyes which hadn't been there ever before, the soft laughs which were free of the silly chuckles he had made in earlier times…

Wilhelm Klink had changed for the better, in a subtle but unmissable way – and it increased the pull of the invisible strings drawing Hogan closer to the Oberst without a chance of escape.

Especially during the night.

The last two times Hogan had woken up from forbidden, wet dreams with heat in his veins and a demanding tightening in his loins – and that this had to peak sooner or later was inevitable…

*** HH ***

Those slender hands were back – whispering like a breeze over his sides, downwards, before they gently gripped his hips. Hot, soft lips fondled the side of his throat, while a familiar warm breath danced over the sensitive spot quite beneath his ear. A lean and slightly muscular body pressed down on his; keeping him almost immobile, but he didn't mind. There was no danger, no risk in being caught like this. Rather the opposite: He was shielded; protected. It felt so good to let go for once – to simply receive and to give without anything to consider.

His own arms snaked around his lover's waist; his fingers wandered over the warm human velvet that covered the slender back. The lips on his throat became more firm, more demanding and a groan escaped him as his body reacted with even more vigor than it already had. This clever mouth began travelling south – nipping, kissing, licking its way down his chest and leaving a hot trail.

He knew what his lover's goal was and the thought alone was enough to send another thrill through him. Closing his eyes, he relished in these seconds full of lusty expectation – yearning for his lover's touch on his stone-hard member, but also enjoying the rising anticipation.

"May I?" whispered his lover and he was about to scream a "Yes!" but the only thing that tumbled over his lips was a soft moan.

"I'll take this as a yes," came the murmured reply – and then these hot lips closed around him.

Nothing had prepared him for this scorching desire that spread through him like wild-fire. Every nerve seemed to be aflame, while he couldn't help but buck up into this sinful mouth.

Hunger awoke in him – a hunger he couldn't control. His hands found the short, incredibly soft strands of his lover's hair, while he arched up again.

This wet, warm mouth freed him for a moment and whispered a soft, "Easy, Rob."

"Don't stop!" he gasped. "Please, don't stop!"

"I won't, do not fear," came the hoarse reply, and instinctively Robert lifted his head and looked down.

Blue, wicked eyes glanced up at him; full well-kissed lips smiled from a familiar face. "There is someone very eager, but don't worry. I got you, Rob, I got you…"

And then his lover engulfed him again; this soft tongue teased his hard member mercilessly.

Heat raced through his limbs and gleamed beneath his skin and with a shout he threw back his head in nameless passion…

Hogan woke with a hoarse outcry. Sitting up, he blinked into the darkness that was only pierced by the light of the reading-lamp that fell through the open door into the bed chamber like every night since his rescue from the Gestapo-Headquarters. He was breathless, his whole body seemed to be on fire and he felt a very well-known burning demand in his loins.

"Robert?"

Klink had been torn out of his blissful sleep and looked up at the figure who sat beside him – gasping for breath and obviously shaken. Bracing himself on one arm, the Oberst reached out with his free hand. "What is it?" he asked softly. "Another nightmare?"

This voice that spoke in the same gentle, warm tone like it had done in the dream was about to become Hogan's undoing. He sensed how every nerve was tingling, how the most vulnerable part of his body throbbed with unfulfilled demands while shivers ran down his back. The night-lamp was switched on, but Hogan avoided looking at Klink – realizing with horror that otherwise he would lose control and would do something that would change everything.

The slender, strong hand that had fondled him only a minute ago in his dream, came to rest on his shoulder, and he didn't need to turn his head to know that those blue eyes were full of concern and affection.

He felt his loins tightening – now the urge to find satisfaction in ecstasy was reaching for him and was about to send him over the edge.

With a shout he threw the covers away, swung his legs over the bed's edge and half limped, half ran to the bathroom. The manly needs could only be suppressed to a certain degree, and after all that had happened within the last days and with the new-found forbidden longing increasing in him, he had reached his limits.

He threw the door to the bathroom closed and locked it; grateful that at least this door had a lock. His knees were about to give in as he heard Klink calling his name. Forcing himself to the toilet, he quickly opened the cover while pulling the pants of his pajamas down; gripping for himself. It was the only way…

Outside, Klink stood at the locked door; filled with worry. What had happened? What was the matter with Robert? Was he sick? Did he need help?

Raising his fist, he knocked at the wood and softly called the colonel's given name, but received no answer. Worry began to change into anxiety.

"Robert? What's the matter?" he said more firmly now. He heard a low growl coming from inside the tiny room, followed by a gasp and a stifled outcry – and now Klink was really concerned.

"Hogan, answer me! NOW! Was ist los? Shall I get Wilson?"

"Give… me a… moment!" a breathless reply finally came while the toilet flushing was activated.

Inside the bathroom, Hogan sat down heavily on the toilet seat – spent but frustrated and absolutely horrified. What had he done! How could his body betray him like this because he had crazy wet dreams about Klink! And it wasn't the fact that those dreams were about his German counterpart, but rather the fact that said 'dream-lover' was male! He wasn't gay – hell, he didn't even think that he was bi. All right, when he had been a teen he had been curious and there had been this one almost-time with a friend, but they had both stopped before it had gone too far. And since then, Hogan had never thought of a man like this ever again.

He enjoyed females; he liked their slender yet curvy bodies, their soft skin and their beauty. He liked being in control and being responsible for them enjoying their coupling like he did. He couldn't imagine completely letting go, not holding something back to avoid hurting his partners and…

'Wrong,' a voice whispered in him. 'You just got a taste how it is to let go – to be safe, held and driven to the outmost, without being forced to hold back. You felt how it is to let yourself drift away, knowing that your partner is as strong as you are…'

Hogan buried his face in his hands.

This. Was. Madness!

Nothing else!

This was only an overreaction because of the last week, and… And he remembered how it had felt when he woke up and found himself enveloped in those long arms; feeling Klink's warm breath on his face or hearing the gentle heartbeat beneath his ear. In those moments between sleep and fully waking up, he belonged in this embrace and relished in it.

So, what did it mean?

Did he harbor feelings for Klink? Definitely, but until three nights prior they had been those towards a friend. Hell, two and a half years ago he hadn't even imagined in his most crazy dreams that this fake-friendship he had built towards the Kommandant could change into a real one.

And now he sat here – on the toilet seat in the little bathroom in the Oberst's private quarters, lusting after the older man who was outside and…

And was certainly worrying his head off. There was no doubt how much he, Hogan, meant to Klink. That the German officer must be more than concerned after the colonel's flight into the restroom was clear. And Klink wasn't a patient person. He granted him privacy, all right, but within the next minute or so the Oberst would certainly…

"Hogan, are you all right?"

There! Klink's patience had already worn down.

Sighing, Hogan rose. "Yes, I'm okay," he said; lying through his teeth again. "I just had… the runs. Sorry for…" He looked down at himself and then at the wall behind the toilet; realizing the mess he had made, "… for the mess." He grimaced. He would have to clean first himself and then the wall before he could leave the bathroom. "Give me a few minutes to wash. I'll be back with you in a short." To his relief, his voice sounded almost normal again.

"Are you sure?" There was some uncertainty in Klink's tone that gave away his worry, and Hogan didn't even try to suppress the warmth that flooded through his heart and soul at this new display of care. His mind already knew that he was fighting a losing battle, but for now he was too tired to think about it thoroughly.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Don't worry, Will."

"All right," came the tentative reply.

Hogan needed some time to get washed and clean the toilet properly. At least his pajamas had been spared. He felt humiliated and angry with himself. How could he lose control like this – over a dream with a guy! Yet said guy was Klink – Will. Caring, gentle, loving Will who hid his true feelings behind the mask of a male nurse and good friend.

A soundless groan escaped the American officer. His German counterpart controlled himself far better than he, Hogan, did. Maybe Klink was used to hiding his feelings like this for a very long time now – after all, this kind of affection was forbidden by law and was certainly cruelly punished by this current inhuman regime. Hell, even in the States you were sent to jail for it.

And yet…

The mere thought of Klink taking him in his arms – if only just to comfort him – raised his pulse again.

'You've really lost it, Robert!' he rebuked himself. Maybe it would be best if he moved back to his own quarters in Barracks 2, but he could imagine how Klink would take it. He could already see the sadness in those eyes and the disappointment on the older man's face – something that sent a short pang through his inner being. And, by the way, for the first time since he had come to Germany and started his mission, he felt like he belonged somewhere. Stalag 13 had indeed become a sort of home for him, and those last days here in Klink's quarters had increased this feeling. Not because of the spartan luxury the quarters offered, but because of the company and the warm atmosphere. He knew that sooner or later he would have to leave, but just right now he couldn't force himself to do so. Those meals with Klink, the talks, the jokes, the banter – he couldn't give this up now. And, by the way, he was not the running away kind. He would have to learn to ignore those new feelings and stay in control.

Determined – and aching because of the short but tiring clean-up that had demanded more from him than he was ready to admit – he splashed some cold water on his face, carefully dried it, unlocked the door and stepped out.

Klink sat on the bed's edge and his eyes were filled with deep concern. One look at him was enough to wake the urge in Hogan to calm down and comfort the older man. And this, more than anything else, told the colonel he was in really deep water, because his wish to soothe the Oberst was followed by a wave of affection.

"Better?" Klink quietly asked.

Hogan almost laughed out loud. No, he wasn't better. Quite the contrary. This newly rising feeling of warmth and sudden yearning for proximity showed him, mercilessly, that he really was in trouble. But he couldn't say this, so he answered,

"Yeah, thanks. I'm sorry for the chaos."

Klink waved a hand and rose. "Maybe it was the penicillin. I also get the runs if I have to take strong medicine for longer. As long as I reach the restrooms in time, I do not mind, but otherwise…" He chuckled, and Hogan realized that his German counterpart was trying to cheer him up.

And for a short but strong moment he had the almost overwhelming urge to kiss those soft, kissable lips and to…

Moaning, he rubbed his temple – and flinched as he felt Klink's hands gently gripping his shoulders. "Off you go," the Oberst said and began to steer him around the bed.

'You have no idea how much I just went off,' Hogan thought ironically; shocked about the casual way his mind seemed to be handling all this.

A minute later he lay on the mattress; covered with the blanket and the comforter to his chin. He lay on his right side and, because he had become cold during the stay in the bathroom, he curled his legs closer to his upper body; wishing for some thick socks to warm his toes.

Klink slipped into bed beside him and closed the distance to him. Hogan lifted his head and looked, perplexed, over his shoulder as he felt how the Oberst took his feet between his lower legs.

"Verdammt (dammit)!" Klink cursed. "You've feet like ice!" He pulled Hogan closer to him. "You're completely cold. Tomorrow I'll make certain that the bathroom is more warm. We can't risk you relapsing with your bronchitis."

The inner alarm bells within the colonel were ringing like mad, as he realized that he had instinctively snuggled closer to the warm body behind him – and how right it felt!

He wasn't losing this battle, he had already lost it – but for now he was too stubborn to admit it. So he closed his eyes, and after a minute he abandoned his attempt at not enjoying the older man's closeness. Within a short time he had drifted off to sleep – sheltered and at least a little bit at peace after his body had let off some steam…

TBC…

'Yes, dear Colonel Hogan, you're soooo lost already' (*smirk*). Yet he will need some time to wrap his mind and heart around it, but – believe me, dear readers – time is on Klink's side. And Hogan's inner resolve will crumble and crumble, until… Well, I don't want to reveal too much.

In the next chapter, our Hogan will not only have a serious discussion with himself (he really thinks too much too often sometimes), but foremost the Heroes begin to plot a real plan for the next mission – with Klink in the middle of it. You maybe can imagine the Heroes' reaction to it (*snicker*). The mission will lead to a lot more, because it really will stir up the whole brass in Berlin what have a few effects for the whole camp.

I hope you liked the new chapter and the way the two colonels are coming more and more together – especially from Hogan's side, who is going to pass through a lot of confusion concerning himself, before….

Like always, I'm 'dying' to learn what you think about the new update.

Have a nice start into the next week,

Love

Yours Starflight.