A/N: A short fic with a weird title that was written in about fifteen minutes because I was bored, it was raining, I just ate some Pockey and I was fangirling over how handsome Sandman is just a few seconds ago, ahhaha. Enjoy, and this is especially for all of my reviewers who have been begging for some Frost/Sandman...
Thunder grumbled in the thick clouds, the usually loud sound only a soft rumble from inside the base. Lightning struck down onto the Earth as quick as sound, blinding the atmosphere with an abrupt flash, before it disappeared and the night became dark again. Raindrops drummed against the roofs, creating a steady beating sound that the soldiers inside were accustomed to.
"What a storm," Truck drew out a long, impressed whistle as he pulled the curtain and peeked out the window. "How long has it been raining?"
"About an hour," Grinch answered, flipping through a stack of CDs. "The channels're out, so which movie you wanna watch?"
"Up to you," Truck's lips curved upwards into a smile. He moved away from the sliding glass doors and plopped down onto the sofa as Grinch inserted a CD into the laptop connected to the TV.
At that moment, Frost walked into the recreation room, a small white packet hidden in his still-gloved hand. He was munching on something and walked in nonchalantly, apparently about to make his way across the room, but was halted when Truck called out to him.
"Hey, Frost, you wanna watch a movie with us?"
"No thanks," Frost smiled slightly, heading for the doors. He pulled a curtain back, reached out for the slot to open the glass doors, but halted and said, "I'm heading outside. Don't tell Sandman if he asks where I am."
He slid the door open. A strong wind howled and forced its way in through the entrance, throwing the curtains up high and forcing Truck and Grinch to shiver at the sudden chill. Frost, however, smiled cheekily and stepped out, quickly closing the door behind him.
Grinch chuckled. "Frost's the only one who can actually stand outside in that crazy cold of a monsoon."
"That's why he's called Frost," Truck rolled his eyes.
Meanwhile, outside, Derek was staring blankly into the darkness of the storm. He was safe where he was, standing underneath a metal roof, sheltered from the rain. However, the wind howled strongly at a very low temperature, and sometimes it blew sideways, causing the dampness of the rain to slightly kiss his fair skin. The cold, the dark and the sound of the rain plus thunder was soothing to him; Frost enjoyed being alone in such a calming weather.
He looked down at the small plastic packet in his hand that Grinch and Truck failed to detect. Only ten minutes ago, he just happened to see the small, familiar-looking package on Sandman's desk. And he knew very well what was inside of the packet, and since the item was rare in his situation, Derek snatched it and quickly walked outside to avoid his superior.
Tearing a small opening, he hummed in amusement, taking out a stick of a biscuit. It was mostly coated in a pink cream, which was probably strawberry-flavoured, unlike the usual chocolate layer he usually sees on a biscuit such as this. Ah, Pockey, one of Frost's favourite snacks to eat. Who knew Sandman also enjoyed the treat? It was perhaps, Sandman's secret guilty pleasure…
Without hesitance, he took a bite, savouring the healthy crunch that sounded as the stick broke off, approving of the sweet strawberry flavour that tickled his tongue. Very quickly he finished off the first stick, and then the second, and then the third. The taste was still exactly as he remembered it, though it had been a while since he last ate it. It was still as delectable as ever.
The bolt of lightning struck down in the distance, followed by the crashing boom of thunder. It didn't perturb the blonde, who closed his eyes when the wind blew sideways again and allowed the light patters of rain to touch his skin.
There was a soft murmur from inside.
"Where's Frost?" It was Sandman's voice.
"We don't know—"
"Truck, shut it. He's outside."
"What? Outside, in that freezing monsoon?" Sandman sounded bewildered and doubtful. "Er…thanks, Grinch."
Frost's lips broke into a grin. He knew that Grinch would divulge his whereabouts though he told the Southern man not to. And now he knew Sandman was coming for him to claim his little stolen treat. Hopefully the rest of Frost's well-formulated plan would carry out well.
The door slid open, and the crunch of boots against rough asphalt drew nearer. Frost casually removed another strawberry Pockey from the packet and broke half of it into his mouth, even as Sandman stood next to him, folding his arms and joining the blonde in staring into the dark storm.
"Hmm, what's up, Sandman?" Frost said, face neutral, but his voice wavering from excited mischief.
"Where'd you get that?" The older man asked, raising an eyebrow, lips set into a small, unimpressed frown.
"Where'd I get what?" Frost teased, grinning at the Master Sergeant.
"Frost, we both know that's mine," Sandman pointed to the small packet. "I know it's strange to be finding that on my table, but it was sent from a friend back home. And I swear, if you eat another stick—"
Frost devoured another stick without difficulty, mantaining eye contact with the older man as his grin reduced into a smirk.
"You really are looking for trouble," Sandman sighed, rubbing his temples.
The younger blonde's smirk grew wider and he looked down at the white packet. It was only his dirty little secret that he felt slightly attracted to the older man (who looked really young and handsome for his age), and there had been more than a few hints that the feeling was mutual. But there never was anything to properly confirm Frost's suspicions.
When he first saw the packet of Pockey, a brilliant plan formulated itself in his mind within a matter of two seconds. It was a well-schemed arrangement that, so far, carried out smoothly. It was Frost's plan all along to snatch the packet, tell his friends specifically not to tell Sandman, have Grinch tell the superior anyway about his whereabouts, and have Sandman stand next to him demanding for the treats. And now for the final few steps…
Sandman watched as the young sergeant revealed to him a singular strawberry-coated Pockey.
"I'll give it to you if you beat me in a game," Frost started with a cheeky smile that made him twice as handsome as he already was. "I'm not sure what it's called, but it requires two people. I'm going to be holding one end of the Pockey with my mouth, and you'll have to eat the Pockey all the way. First one to back out loses."
Sandman raised an eyebrow, lips tugging upwards into an amused smirk, as Frost continued, "If you can't finish the Pockey, you lose, and I eat everything. If you win, I'll give it back and pay back for all the eaten sticks. Deal?"
The older man chuckled. It was a deep expression of delight that sent Frost's heart skyrocketing.
"The games you boys are into nowadays…alright, let's have a go."
Putting the stick between his lips like a cigarette, Frost watched intently as Sandman turned to face straight at him. The older man's greyish-blue eyes focused on the treat sticking out from Frost's mouth, determination flickering in his pretty orbs, tongue snaking out to lick his dry mouth. Frost's heart pounded against his ribs, oh and how hard he prayed nobody to peek out the window at that time, as Sandman leaned forward and bit a small part of the biscuit.
It was only a small portion that he took into his mouth, and he paused to chew on swallow on it. The agonozingly slow process made Frost a bit jittery…the edge of his boots were touching with the edge of Sandman's… he was so close to him.
Sandman proceeded to eat the rest of the stick, edging closer to the blonde inch by inch, bite by bite, and occassionally stopping to nibble on a small amount of biscuit just for the sake of bullying Frost. Sandman did not miss the agitation in his eyes when he delayed the process, and, truth be told, it was a pleasure to see the blonde so impatient.
Finally, he devoured enough for their faces to be so close, that their breaths blew warmly against the other's face, contrasting the chill of the rain. Sandman stared straight into Frost's eyes, and since he was unable to avert the gaze, a pink blush tinted the blonde's face, which made Sandman smirk and lean forward suddenly to complete his task.
Frost felt Sandman's lips against his—the abrupt contact of damp, rough lips against his own soft ones…
With age came experience; Sandman slipped his tongue past Frost's baby-like lips and wangled the remaining parts of the stick from his teeth. As the final part of the Pockey was stolen,Sandman pulled away, chewing with approval as he smirked at Frost's flushed state.
"I win," Sandman said simply, licking his bottom lip.
Frost stared at him for a few seconds, bewildered and still a bit perplexed, before blinking and blushing deeper. He stuttered, "Sandman…you, er…you do realize that you just—"
"That I just kissed you?" Sandman finished with a smirk. "Sure, I noticed. Wasn't that what you wanted, Frost?"
Frost's eyes widened. "Wait—how'd you know I wanted…" his sentence trailed off. Then, he cleared his throat and said softly. "I didn't think you'd actually do it, though…"
"I can do it again if I wanted to, but Grinch might just look out at any moment," Sandman shrugged, before tugging on the collar of Frost's shirt, his eyes wandering from his lips to his neck. "Now then, about paying me back for those eaten sticks…"
Frost gulped. What's up with that seductive tone?
However, Sandman sighed suddenly. "How about we head inside? I'm freezing my ass out here."
Hearing this, the embarrassed blonde forgot all his mortification and laughed heartily. "Sure, man. Anything you want."
"Anything?" Sandman asked sharply.
Frost bit the insides of his cheeks, looking at Sandman awkwardly. "Er…w-what was it that you wanted me to pay you back with?"
Sandman's inquiring gaze quickly changed into that of self-satisfaction. "Hmm…I'm a bit cold, and Grinch and Truck are probably too absorbed into the movie, so…how about we head somewhere private, and you pay me back by melting into my arms?"
Frost caught on to his superior's dirty meaning, and though the suggestion made his heart leap to his mouth, he couldn't help but smile and join in on the act. "That contrasts my callsign, you know. Something like Frost shouldn't melt."
Sandman chuckled and swooped in, lightly brushing his lips against Frost's, before retreating and whispering—his breath warm against the blonde's ear. "I'll just make it so hot, you'll just have to melt, eh?"
Frost felt as though he could have swooned, but he didn't, and ended up blushing like an idiot as Sandman approached the glass doors, beckoning the blonde to follow him to the bedroom…