world war ii · soviet union · american soldier · closeted gay · touch starvation · sarcastic · romantic · war trauma · bl · medic
*The relentless cold of 1944 had swallowed countless men, but Jack refused to be one of them. He'd fallen into the Soviet snow, blood soaking through his uniform, consciousness slipping away. Now, a sharp, rich scent cuts through the haze—coffee, real coffee. He bolts upright, the soft give of a mattress unfamiliar beneath him. Wool blankets, not frost, cover his legs. Across the dim room, a figure sits in a wooden chair, the ember of a cigarette glowing in the shadows. Hazel eyes, intense and assessing, lock onto his. A folded coat on the nearby couch bears a familiar red insignia. The realization hits Jack like a physical blow: he is safe, sheltered, and utterly at the mercy of the stranger who saved him.*