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Jack had been his overwatch for ten annoying and long winded days; the Humvee finally overheated to the point where even Mac couldn't rig it to work any longer. He'd already improvised a patch job three times, but they needed the last litre of water on hand for themselves and couldn't spare any more for that godforsaken vehicle. They'd been assigned to a far away outpost, a two hour drive, but were finally on their way back to the barracks. They abandoned their vehicle, leaving behind no personal items and dismantling the weapons, removing key components in case anyone picked over what they'd left behind, disappeared into the horizon behind them as they hoofed it back toward basecamp.

They left during the hottest part of the afternoon, of course. Jack had a pack filled with supplies they may need on the 6 plus hour trek. Once they were back in communication range, they'd arrange for a ride back, but they'd try to cover as much ground as possible on foot first.

Two hours into the walk, Jack tried the sat phone again. The battery was low, and Mac had used the spare battery to make a welding device to fix the radiator the second time. Still no signal.

At the four hour mark, their legs were tired and they were hot, too hot to even talk. Jack was always full of tales and anecdotes to share, but even he was quiet for once. They were dressed for the desert sun and heat, but not dressed for the heat AND a 30 mile hike in the sand.

The sun was finally starting to set, at least they wouldn't sweat out nearly as much water once it got cooler outside. They split the last of their water supply, only two hours to go, less if they could get in touch with their people to send a ride.

They set down their belongings, and Mac pulled the sat phone out to see if they were in range yet. Someone had to be looking for them by that point. While he waited for the phone to power on, Mac plopped down in the sand, feeling his feet throb, hot and swollen within his boots. His clothes were stuck to him in places that didn't feel right. Mac pulled his shirt off to let some of the cooling air hit his back through fewer layers of clothes.

Jack had already removed his shirt and tied it around his waist miles ago, the straps of his overstuffed pack chafing the skin on his shoulders around his tank top. He rummaged through the first aid kit in his pack for some kind of ointment to put on the raw skin during their respite. He pulled a few flat foil lined pouches out of the kit with an excited gasp.

While Mac fiddled with the phone he laughed at Jack's excitement for ointments. Everybody's got their weird niche, he just didn't know Jack's was so...unique. He was under the impression Jack was a football and beer kind of guy. "I can give you a hand with that when I'm done." Mac called out. "We should be able to get a signal here and come up with a rendezvous point."

Jack slipped on a glove and pulled out a couple of wipes to somewhat clean the raw and bleeding skin on his shoulders. He hissed at the sting as he cleaned them, then sighed dramatically with the application of the soothing antibiotic ointment.

Mac guessed he didn't need a hand after all when Jack put the antibiotic cream back in his kit. Mac pushed buttons and had initiated communication with their base, when someone answered, he looked up at Jack to give him the good newsand dropped the phone on the ground with a shocked look of sheer revulsion. He tried to look away but was too curious, like seeing a train wreck. "What in the hell, Jack?"

"What?" Jack shrugged with his mostly free hand while holding his dick and balls with the other. His pants were down to his knees, and he was squatting slightly to open his legs.

"What are you doing...with your junk out...in the middle of the freaking desert?"

"I got some mad chafing under my nuts." He paused, "and actually on my thighs and in my ass too. This is not the underwear for marathon walking."

Mac turned his head and shielded his face from the offensive sight in front of him. He'd forgotten that he was on the phone until he heard a voice on the other end yelling with concern, "...check in two hours ago!"

As he briefed them on the situation and agreed on a meet location, Mac stared in disgust at what Jack was doing in front of him. Mac's face cringed and twisted as he watched Jack slather a thick white paste under his balls, in the crease of his thighs, and other places 'where the sun don't shine.'

Jack stood with his pants still pooled at his knees, gloved fingers baring the remnants of the white paste. He held the small blue and white packet out to Mac, "want some? It'll change your life."

Mac shook his head, appalled as he disconnected the call.

"Thank goodness for my sister, man. She sent me these tiny sample packs of this stuff to have out here just in case. It's diaper rash cream. For babies. When their asses get chapped from wet diapers, ya know?"

"Jack, I know what a barrier cream does. I can't say I've ever needed any though."

Jack scoffed, "naysayer. You'll be sorry later." He began to rub the rest of the contents of the rash cream packet onto other chafed areas of his groin before wadding everything up inside of a glove as he pulled it off. "How far we got left?" Jack stood with his pants still down and his private parts on full display, appreciating the light breeze cooling his ointment covered nooks and crannies.

"About two miles, due west." Mac looked away with disgust.

Jack pulled his pants up reluctantly and slid the backpack onto his shoulders, letting the straps rest awkwardly across his biceps. "Allright then. Let's go, kid."

By the final mile to the rendezvous, Mac was lagging behind. Not because he was out of shape, but because the skin beneath his genitals had also been chapped painfully raw. He didn't want to admit it to Jack because Jack was freaking weird and way too comfortable being naked in front of other people.

Back at the barracks, the two wayward soldiers were welcomed back with jokes and back pats. Jack spun the harrowing tale of Mac's 3 different impromptu radiator repairs as he unpacked his gear with an audience gathered around their bunk. If there was something Jack could do well, it was tell a story, embellishments or not, he made every anecdote into an enthralling adventure.

Mac headed toward the shower and someone piped up, "not sticking around for the rest of the story?"

"Oh, it's OK, I know how it ends." Mac told them and slipped into the bathroom alone. He lurched forward as the water rolled across the chafed skin behind his testicles. It burned like lemon juice in a paper cut and he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out. Mac eased back into the stream of water and held his breath until he got acclimated to the painful stinging. He panted, breathlessly, through clenched teeth as he braced his hands against the wall.

Jack followed suit minutes later, walking into the bathroom already buck naked. Placing his belongings next to the sink, he draped a towel on a hook across from the showers and turned on a stream for himself. He sighed audibly at the water rinsing the sweat and stank from his skin. He scrubbed himself clean rather efficiently while Mac stayed motionless under his stream, pressing his hands into the wall through the pain.

With the towel slung low across his hips, Jack brushed his teeth, flossed, and shaved in front of the mirror. Mac was still in the shower. "You ok in there, dude?"

"Yeah."

"You waiting on me to leave so you can get out?"

"Yeah."

"Aight, hoss, just give me another minute." Jack unscrewed the cap from a large tub of Triple Paste diaper rash cream and applied it liberally to his private parts before sliding on a fresh pair of very loose fitting underwear. "Coast is clear." He called out as he left the bathroom.

Mac shut the water off and walked uncomfortably, keeping his legs spread wide for minimal contact, to the sink to brush his teeth and get dressed. On the mirror, written in the steam, was a note from Jack. "Use it. It'll change your life." With an arrow pointing to the jar of barrier cream he'd left on the counter for Mac. The picture of the baby on the container with the giant blue eyes was mocking him. He turned the tub around so the baby faced the wall.

Reluctantly, he scooped a little out with one finger, checking the room for unwanted visitors before applying it to the most raw spot beneath his balls. After the initial contact and pressure of application, it felt amazing. He'd never experienced such quick relief. With a different finger, he drew a little more out of the tub. He covered all of the chafed spots that plagued him that day and slipped on his underwear and t-shirt before concealing Jack's butt paste container in a towel to return it.

"Thanks." Mac mentioned quietly has he slyly handed the jar off to Jack.

"Thank my sister, she turned me on to this stuff and sent me this tub and the little sample packs."

"I don't think she needs to hear about my sweaty diaper rash, but I definitely appreciate this. It really did make all the difference." Mac blushed. Jack clapped him on the shoulder before throwing the rash cream back into his own foot locker.

Mac smiled nervously, talking to his obnoxious and crass overwatch about a very personal situation he wouldn't have shared with anyone else on the planet was an obstacle he'd not anticipated. And honestly, he didn't really mind it as much as he thought he would.