One Way or another
A delicious smell wafted down the kitchen, good enough to revive a dead man. Coincidentally, that's exactly how Kapkan felt. He'd just come back from a mission and had a small nap on the helicopter, but it wasn't enough. As soon as he reached the room he was going to faceplant down on his bunk and sleep the whole morning away. However, upon entering the base and smelling that mouth watering scent he realized he was hungry, no, ravenous.
The image of Glaz in Thermite's pink apron was hilarious, but Kapkan decided against mocking the person who was cooking and could feed him. And unlike Fuze or Tachanka, Glaz knew how to make food that was actually edible and good.
"What are you doing?" he asked, sitting down on the table.
Glaz turned around and smiled at him, one of those smiles that had the ability to light up the whole room, and Kapkan was blinded by it. Then Glaz turned his attention back to the frying pan. "Got up early, decided to make breakfast."
Neither of them pointed out it was six o'clock and most of their team mates wouldn't come down to eat for yet another good half an hour or more. Kapkan rested his elbow on the table and his head on his hand, waiting. He was about to fall asleep when Glaz put a plate of food in front of him.
"You made blinis?" They looked perfectly done, like out of a cooking show, with strawberry jam on top. "I knew you were my favorite for a reason."
Glaz knew it was a joke, but he still blushed. Thankfully Kapkan was too focused tearing into the food to notice."There's also scrambled eggs."
Although Glaz didn't have the occasion to eat alone with Kapkan as he planned. Ash came through the door, looking still half asleep despite the mug of coffee on her hand.
"Oh good, breakfast," she said, reaching for the eggs and sitting down to eat.
Soon after Blackbeard also joined them, joining Ash in a conversation about the mission, trying to engage Kapkan too and getting only annoyed grunts in answer. However Glaz wasn't paying attention to them, or his food. Although he wasn't being exactly subtle about it, nobody on the table noticed the way he looked at Kapkan like a love stricken puppy.
Spring had come and the garden was blooming, an explosion of colour and life. It was a well known secret Kapkan liked to tend the garden, planting new flowers and taking a strange delight in talking to them sometimes, threatening the weakest plants with turning them into compost if they didn't grow as lush as he wanted.
Glaz had impulsively bought a new geranium on his latest outing to the nearby village. The flowers were a deep orange, Kapkan's favorite color, and he'd thought they'd be a good addition to the garden. However, Glaz was now panicking, pacing up and down the hall with the accursed flowerpot on his hands, because wasn't this too girly maybe? Perhaps he should try some other idea, keep this as plan B and think of something else.
"What are you doing with that flowerpot, Tim?" There was only one person who called him that. Thatcher had the tendency to call his fellow operators as he damn pleased, usually mangled versions of their names. Glaz suspected he did it on purpose, waiting to see if anyone would call him out on it.
"I, uh..." Glaz didn't have time to fabricate an appropriate answer, because in that moment Tachanka and Kapkan got out from the gym, as he knew they would. There was a reason he'd been waiting on this spot for ten minutes.
His two fellow Spetsnaz stared at him with mild curiosity. And then Thatcher had to open his damned mouth. "You know, if you're trying to court a lady, the usual is to bring a bouquet of flowers, not the whole plant."
Glaz felt a wave of dread when he heard the word court, because how the fuck had the old man guessed it right away? However, his surprise was taken as a tacit admission by them all.
"Good on you Timur, sweep your lady off her feet!" Tachanka boomed, attracting the interest of Pulse, who was close by. "Is it Ela? You have been spending time together."
"What? No!" Glaz immediately shot down that avenue of thought. "Ela is a friend. And she's with Valkyrie."
"I bet it's IQ or Twitch," Thatcher piped up with a wicked gleam in his eyes. Glaz was now sure the older man lived to annoy people at every opportunity he had.
"Nah, I think Frost is cuter." Pulse joined the conversation, uninvited. Glaz could see this was becoming an unsalvageable train wreck.
"I'm sure Timur likes 'em with an aura of danger, like Caveira." Tachanka's words nearly had him choking, because he was sort of right. In the sense he liked someone with an aura of danger around him, and was coincidentally good with a knife too.
With a defeated sigh, he pressed the flowerpot to Kapkan's hands. The hunter, wo had been unusually quiet during the whole exchange, picked up the plant with a confused frown. Glaz left, wishing to avoid attracting even more unwanted curiosity about the whole situation.
"C'mon, don't be like this Tim!" Thatcher yelled after him.
Nobody noticed Kapkan admiring the orange flowers, or how he slipped into the garden to plant it on his favourite spot.
Word quickly got out about how Glaz was trying to court one of the girls, and bets were placed about the identity of Glaz's mysterious lady. Kapkan hadn't placed a bet, mainly because he hadn't found yet a suitable candidate. Every time he tried to picture Glaz and one of the girls it felt weird. He felt weird. Perhaps he should just name someone randomly and stop thinking about it.
The sniper had neither denied nor confirmed his intentions, nor the object of his supposed affections, but he'd been acting strangely for a few days. He might be lacking the courage to do something after the fiasco of the other day. Well, the discarded plant was growing up nicely under Kapkan's supervision and, although he probably wouldn't admit it out loud, he loved it. It looked great, like all the plants he took care of. And he worked on the garden almost daily. Plus, today he'd had the pleasure to see how a recruit paled like a ghost when Kapkan told him he had personally planted a flower for each person he'd killed. A bald-faced lie, but there was nothing like striking fear in the heart of recruits to brighten his day. And now that he was done with the garden for the day, he had gone back to his room in search of clean clothes.
On top of his pillow there was a folded piece of paper. Curiosity got the best of him, and he picked it up. Kapkan immediately recognized Timur's handwriting and, moreover, it was in Russian. The message was a poem. A romantic poem. With some extremely interesting passages. Getting lost in each other's embrace? Surrendering to forbidden delights? What the fuck, it was getting hot in here. His imagination leapt at the chance of providing images of him and Timur in such situation, and wow, that wasn't helping at all.
As if summoned by Kapkan's guilty conscience, Glaz entered into the room too. Kapkan looked at him and quickly averted his gaze. Having Timur here was only feeding these damned fantasies. He needed a cold shower asap.
"You might want to translate this into English before giving it to your girl," Kapkan told him, folding back the paper with deceptively steady hands and putting it on Glaz's bed. "And stop leaving your stuff on my bed."
The hunter took a hasty retreat, fleeing the room and completely missing Glaz's flabbergasted expression. He thought leaving the poem on Maxim's pillow would be a clear enough sign it was meant for him. Was this Maxim's way of turning him down, or was he really that dense? Glaz sat down on his bed, contemplating which should be his next step.
The next step wasn't planned, but Glaz wasn't going to let such a chance go to waste.
They were training, attackers versus defenders, and everyone was trying their best to defeat the other team. Fighting with the French team was an interesting experience, their tactics were wildly different from what the Spetsnaz were used to.
Afterwards, Kapkan complained about Fuze smashing him too hard against the wall. While Fuze and Tachanka got into a discussion with Twitch and Montagne about the best way to take out an armed opponent in close quarters, and Doc talking quietly with Rook, Glaz seized the opportunity.
Kapkan had been trying to massage his abused shoulder, and Glaz seamlessly took over, digging his fingers gently into his arm and slowly expanding the area he was working on. The hunter melted under his touch. Maxim sighed in appreciation and Glaz had to fight down the urge to kiss his neck, because that would hardly be appropriate. Although maybe he should, it was a direct approach Maxim would have no way of misinterpreting.
On the other hand, Kapkan was really enjoying the way Timur's hands were working on him, gripping him just right and oh so warm. He leant closer, until he could feel the sniper's breath next to his ear. And his mind chose that moment to remind him of those damned lines in the poem Glaz had written. Fuck, he shouldn't have picked it up, the whole thing was stuck on his brain now.
Suddenly conscious of how public the situation was, Kapkan broke away with muttered thanks before rushing to Tachanka's side and forcing himself to focus on the conversation between his friend and Montagne. He stomped down on the surge of disappointment when he saw Twitch talking to Glaz, and kept repeating to himself everything was fine. If he repeated it enough times, he might convince himself of it.
The box of chocolates had been difficult to procure without anyone seeing him buy it. The last thing Glaz wanted was a repeat of the disaster with the flowers, with everyone and their brother chiming in with unsolicited advice, or worse, gossip.
He had sort of stalked Kapkan the whole day, intent on finding a good opportunity to talk with the hunter alone. But Maxim seemed to be always accompanied by Tachanka. Until now. Glaz took a deep breath and steeled his nerves. This was it, no more misunderstandings. With that mindset, he went into the empty room where Maxim was fixing his drill, since he didn't like using the common workshop.
"Hey," Glaz felt like kicking himself for such a pathetic greeting, but Kapkan barely reacted. He had the drill dismantled on the table while he was searching something on the toolbox he had on the other end of the table. Glaz left the chocolate in a corner of the table, and that did make Kapkan look.
"What's this?" Kapkan commented distracted, walking back to the other side of the table to check the small box. He opened it and his mind blanked. "Is this for me?"
Glaz nodded, unable to get the words out as he watched Maxim frown. "She rejected you? Sorry Timur, that sucks."
For a few seconds Kapkan had entertained the idea that Timur was actually courting him, but Kapkan wasn't one to dwell on self-indulgent fantasies. Whoever rejected Timur must be blind or stupid. Or perhaps she was a lesbian. Either way, he was fine reaping the benefit of the discarded gift. Those were dark chocolate with liquor, his favourites.
"There's no girl," Glaz huffed, a mix of exasperation and humour, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's you Maxim. It's always been you."
Caught off guard by Timur's statement, Kapkan froze as he was about to pick one of the confectioneries. He must have heard Timur wrong. Or perhaps he was just joking. However, Glaz looked serious, no trace of mischief in him. The sniper got closer to him, crowding Kapkan against the table and softly cupping the side of his face with one hand. His eyes were bluer than the sky and Kapkan decided this was now his favourite colour. Glaz leant in closer until his forehead was resting against his, giving him time to back out if he wanted. Kapkan stayed still, unable to react and holding in his breath in anticipation. When Timur's warm lips brushed against his, Kapkan closed his eyes and kissed back, elated beyond words. It was soft and unhurried, could even be described as chaste, yet Kapkan couldn't get enough of it. He grabbed Timur by the waist, pulling him closer to feel his solid weight against him and reassure himself this was real. They pulled apart slowly, hesitant to stop. Glaz dove back in to leave another quick kiss on his lips, smiling abashed as an apology for his lack of control.
They broke apart, still holding each other and thank goodness for that, because Kapkan felt like he might float away otherwise. He was the one Timur was trying to court. It was surreal. Although upon reflection, it made some sense when thinking about some things. "So the flowers and the poem...?"
"Honestly Maxim, for being such an observant person you can be so fucking dense," Glaz was more amused than irritated.
And although he was right, Kapkan preferred to shut him up with another kiss. In Kapkan's opinion, kissing Glaz was truly the best solution possible to any situation. And he finally was able to do that. Judging by the way the sniper kissed back hungrily, he shared the same opinion.