This is my little Churboose short. I kinda like it so far. There's going to be more but it's not going to be ongoing like my Tuckington. Nah this is just going to be two, maybe three chapters at most. Hope you like! Also, I can't help but feel bad for Caboose after writing this!
Caboose was used to insults. That's how things go with friends. They act all upset whenever your around, call you names, sometimes shoot at you, and then they calm down. After a while, they start to treat you better and better until they start to act upset again. That's just how friendship works. In fact, all good relationships go that way. It's all he's ever known. His mom was the first. He could remember her crying and yelling one night, joking that "she'd never meant to have a mentally retarded child" before going to the store. She took a very long time at the store. She was actually still there.
Caboose's father was different. There were certainly times when even one like Caboose could tell he was frustrated, sometimes he would yell. He never ever called him names. Not once.
He'd had many friends in school. Lots and lots of friends. They'd affectionately call him nicknames, like "El Retardo" or "Chickenhead" or, his personal favorite, "Turd Brain". He knew deep down they didn't mean to be hurtful. They just liked to play games.
There was one kid in school who hated those names. He always hung out with Caboose if he could, but personally, Caboose didn't see why. He was popular in his own right. Even had his own list of nicknames nobody could seem to agree on.
The kid was real sportsy. He'd always be picked last for teams because nobody could decide on where he should go. Caboose wasn't popular enough to be picked last. In fact, he always managed to be picked first. Something about his "absurd upper body strength" and "dumber than a rock"-ness being in his way. He never understood this, and eventually stopped trying.
He remembered one day they'd found his more popular friend "hanging the gym". Caboose had chuckled. So that's where that rascal went to hang out? How come Caboose was not invited?
He never saw his friend after that, though he checked the gym often.
He remembered the day his dad had pulled him out of school clearer than ever. His many friends were again referring to him as their nicknames. A teach overheard and felt so compelled to tell his father. After that, he was homeschooled until the day he turned eighteen. He'd spent so much time with his father, working around the house, exercising, talking about fun stuff (like birdsong and delicious foods).
On his 18th birthday, his dad drove him to the office. Caboose had been there many times before. Often, the people there (stiff, upright people in uniforms similar to his father's) would sit him down and ask him questions, or make him do stuff like lift heavy things or run a lot. Caboose didn't like the questions part as much but the running and lifting he had no problem. These people couldn't lift heavy things and they needed him and he was glad to help.
Today was different, though. Something was wrong. "Are you sure you need him?" he remembered his father asking. "Of all people? Him?"
"Yes," the man with the most amount of pretty patches on his suit said. "He's perfect for the job." His father had gripped his arm so tight. Caboose's fingers went numb. "Don't worry," the man said, unusually soft. Caboose had never heard him speak so quietly before. "We'll take care of him for you."
Caboose remembered looking into the blue, blue eyes of his father. There was a look there that Caboose did not understand. "You be good, okay son?" his father choked. Caboose was startled to see his eyes were rather wet. "Do what you're told. Don't do anything reckless."
"Okay," Caboose said enthusiastically. He had no idea what was going on, but he knew if he agreed with his dad it would make him feel better.
His father pulled him into a tight hug. Caboose gripped back. "I love you, son," he heard his father's gruff voice whisper quietly. He leaned back, looking his beloved boy up and down one last time before turning and walking out the door.
"Are we leaving?" he'd asked, stepping forward to follow. A calloused hand, one of the ones belonging to the patched up guy.
"Not you sunny. You're coming with us."
That was the last time Caboose had ever seen his father.
Caboose began to make a whole bunch of new friends after that. And he was convinced he was in a movie. There were tanks, and guns, and all sorts of things that belonged in movies. He ran a lot. A lot. He was asked more than ever to lift heavy objects, and while he didn't mind helping people, he grew tired of it after a while. He missed his father and he kind of wanted to go home.
Still, he was having fun. And he was making new friends! They had all sorts of nicknames for him, "fuckface", "dirtbag", and "cumtwat" to name a few. These people seemed to be in a state of constant yelling and Caboose didn't understand why.
There were a lot of things Caboose didn't understand, but he went along with it anyway. He learned things too. Like how to shoot and stuff. He even got to spend time in space! It was more fun than he'd ever had in his life.
Until he was transferred to Blood Gulch. It wasn't until he got there that he finally found what he was missing. It was there he found his best friend.
…
Church glared in annoyance as the rookie once again did it wrong. "No, idiot!" he hissed waspishly. "It goes on the counter."
"Here?" Caboose asked, setting the burning hot tray on the table.
"No, not there!" Church snapped. "You're going to light it on fire! The counter, rookie!"
"Okay!" Caboose said, and went to set the tray on the bench.
"The counter!"
"Okay!" This time he went to put it in the sink. Only his foot caught on the bench and he tripped, face forward. The steaming hot pan slipped from his outstretched fingers and spilled, landing all over Church. The liquid was a byproduct of an experiment gone horribly wrong. He had every reason to believe it was actually acidic.
"Shit!" he exclaimed as his armor began smoking. Careful not to touch it, he hurriedly began pulling his armor off. Caboose dropped the pan and helped, tugging his shin coverings off of him while he pulled off the breast plate. "Don't touch me!" Church seethed, snatching his leg away. Caboose's hands hovered where his leg had been before moving to pull his own helmet off. Church froze mid-action, looking at the blonde man.
He couldn't help but get distracted by Caboose sometimes. What on earth was God thinking, making a man like him? Beyond strong, stunningly attractive, and ungodly stupid all rolled into one. Anyone with half a brain could get wrapped up in Caboose's baby face, matted blonde hair, and blue, blue eyes. The color of his armor.
There was a hissing noises followed by the tang of smoke. "Ah!" His hand snapped up. He waved it back and forth in an attempt to cool the burn.
"Church!" Caboose shouted.
"Get a rag with cold water," Church ordered through gritted teeth. He prayed Caboose knew what to do because couldn't handle it right now if he didn't. His heart pounded in his chest as he kicked the smoking armor away from him. He frowned at it, thinking. Goddammit! Getting distracted by Caboose again. Luckily the moron rarely removed his helmet. It made it easier to continue hating him if he couldn't look at him.
Caboose seemed to have understood Church's request, because he returned with a cool rag in hand. Church pressed it appreciatively into his aching hand. Already the pain was leaving. "Ahh," he groaned. "That's better."
He was still nursing his injured hand when Caboose leaned forward. "Here, let me help you." Both his hands came up, brushing Church's neck. He shuddered, mouth dropping as he felt the blonde soldier's hands dig into the underside of his helmet.
It had to be criminal, liking Caboose. The rookie was clearly missing more than a few brain cells. Church had to take special care for him, packing lunches and sometimes going as far to help him get dressed up in his armor when Caboose couldn't figure out how. Almost like dealing with a small child but with less intelligence.
Church didn't like Caboose exactly. He was attracted to his good lucks and big muscles. Nothing that couldn't be handled or outright halted by the stupidity Caboose lived his life with.
But this, with Caboose's hands gently against his head, his fingers gently probing Church as he struggled to remove the helmet, stupid look of concentration on his face…this was too much. Church was overwhelmed by a sudden onslaught of thoughts and feelings. All at once, he wanted to smack the stupid soldier, the taste, to touch, he wanted to hear Caboose's voice, breathy from exertion, almost like his breathy laughs. He wanted to pull Caboose's tongue with his teeth, wrap his lips around the other man's, use his hands to tear that regulation blue straight off of the other man.
He gaped stupidly while Caboose finally pulled his helmet off of him. He blinked, gripping his hand much to tight to help with the pain anymore.
"There!" Caboose said finally, his mouth pulling up in a stupid grin that Church couldn't get enough of.
"God dammit Rookie you are such a fucking idiot," he murmured, too soft to sound like an insult. Caboose's eyes popped in the look of permanent confusion he seemed to always wear, however this was different. So innocent and trusting…
Church growled low in his throat and turned away abruptly. "Put your helmet on, fuckface!" he snapped, suddenly loud and twice as venomous as he wanted to sound.
"Yes sir!" Caboose chirped merrily, grabbing his helmet in his hands.
Church had had enough. "Don't talk to me like that!" he was yelling. "I'm your commanding officer, retard! Not your friend!"
Caboose stared at him with wide eyes, looking for possibly the first time Church had ever seen him, genuinely hurt. "You don't mean that. Of course we're friends."
It broke Church's heart to see Caboose like that. There was something really really wrong with him for yelling at innocent and stupid Caboose like he was. But the words, so aggressive that even Caboose couldn't miss it, were already tearing from his throat. "Guess again, rookie! I wouldn't be friends with you if you paid me real money, not that you have any!" he added. Insult to injury…
Caboose's lower lip trembled. Church knew he had gone too far but couldn't take it back now. "Church," Caboose tried, but his CO was having none of it.
"Leave!"
Caboose jumped to his feet and ran out of the room as though Church had…well Church had. He had a strong suspicion that the blue-eyed soldier was crying. He didn't care. (That was a lie, he totally cared). It was more important that he hurt Caboose this way than the other.
What was wrong with him? He didn't take pleasure in emotionally murdering his men. And that is what he had done. He had totally slaughtered Caboose emotionally, no getting around that.
He ran his injured hand through his hair and instant regretted it. "Ow!" he hissed, looking at it. There was a blister there. No more than he deserved.
The memory of Caboose leaning over him, of the strong urges he'd just fought off, fresh on his mind…. Feeling attraction to Caboose was one thing. In all honestly, he was cute. No getting around that. There was even something about his moronic attitude that any caring person would find adorable. Perhaps 'caring' was a strong word to describe the periwinkle commander, but Church certainly wasn't cruel and it was easier to find Caboose cute than it was to feel annoyance and hatred all the time.
Yet these feelings, these urges. They were something else entirely. What was wrong with him? Caboose himself had admitted he had no idea what sex was or how it worked. Pure virgin Caboose, innocent as a fucking dove and clueless as a fucking fruitfly. Wanting to-
Oh God, did he really want that? He tried to imagine what it was he really wanted. In a flash he could feel those sensations again. Touchy feely, strong muscles, gripping that blonde peach-fuzz in his hand and pulling hard. He bit his cheek inside his own mouth and pounded his fist onto the floor of the base, grounding himself back in reality.
Attraction to Caboose's good looks was one thing. It was even okay to find his stupidity childish and adorable all in one. Wanting to fuck his fucking brains out was something else entirely, and it was not an idea Church was willing to entertain.
At least not in public.