Tight, smooth, pale skin was stretched out in front of him, firm muscles obvious as they worked overtime. Anatolievich's hands reached up to splay its fingers across the boys stomach. He could feel a steady pulse underneath his fingertips; was he nervous? Excited? He looked up into the face of the boy beneath him. The blonde fringe hung over a furrowed brow and spilled down into his eyes. His cheeks were flushed pink making the boy look younger than ever. He looked helplessly up at Anatolievich from his position on the bed, hands tied above his head to the headboard with the very tie that earlier he had been reluctant to wear. His state could be described as nothing but powerless, firmly attached to the bed. He was unable to fight, unable to get away, unable to do anything but lie there without assistance. Anatolievich liked it.
But the boys gaze held a steely determination, a fire was burning brightly behind those intelligent, calculating eyes. He didn't look like he wanted to leave, but for someone in such an obedient, submissive position, the boy looked like the one in control. His jaw set, his eyes blazing and his skin flushed with pleasure, Alexander held all the cards.
But then Anatolievich was on him, kissing the warm skin of his neck and the boy's eyes widened in surprise and he could do nothing but lie there and take what Anatolievich was giving him. Anatolievich kissed up and down his neck, marring the smooth unbroken skin with bruises and bite marks. Every now and then when Anatolievich sucked particularly hard or broke the pale skin the boy would whimper and make a quiet, pleased noise in the back of his throat. Anatolievich wanted to listen to those sounds all day long.
Alexander was a symphony orchestra and Anatolievich would conduct him, press in all the right places until every sound the boy could make had been drawn from him. He bit down on the spot directly over his pulse point in his neck and the boy keened loudly, pulling at his wrists. Anatolievich smiled up at him and the boy's face grew a shade pinker.
"I-I'm sorry" he began "I-"
Anatolievich held a finger to his lips. "Don't apologise, quite the opposite. I want to hear you." He sucked again on the same spot and drew another beautifully soft, wanton moan from the boy beneath him. He smiled and kissed his way up to Alexander's face. "Better." he whispered. The boy's eyes looked away from his own, embarrassed. Anatolievich cupped the other's cheek with his hand and drew their faces closer. Their lips crushed together and Alexander let out a sigh, opening his mouth when Anatolievich's tongue probed into it. The boy tasted like artificial sweets, on any other person Anatolievich would have found this unpleasing but this was Alexander, and it was because it was Alexander that he wanted more, wanted to taste the boys mouth forever.
He pulled his face away and the boy chased it, rising up from the bed, unwilling to let him go. Anatolievich put a gentle hand on his shoulder, pushing the boy back down onto the bed clothes, grinning. "Patience Alexander, patience."
Anatolievich woke the next morning, groaning as the sun broke into the room. He reached out a hand, searching for Alexander's body only to find that he was not there. He opened his eyes and looked around at his room. It was empty. He lay back down in the mess of tangled sheets. It had been a dream, a wonderful dream. He stayed there from some time, staring at the canopy of his bed unseeing, picturing Alexander's beautifully flushed face.
Dinner had been a quiet affair last night, pleasant and refined. Alexander had told him of his childhood, growing up with his sister Fiona and the trouble he had got in at school. The boy was delinquent, a troubled kid, Anatolievich could see it in his eyes, he was tired. But he was also wonderful, he loved classical music, he loved sports and reading, he was good at school and didn't need to try. He also had a dry wit and a steady sense of humour. Sometimes, the evidence of the charade Alexander had been putting on leapt out, he occasionally replied with comments which were meant to mock the other and detach Alexander himself from his surroundings, but then the boy would realise, apologise and make and then make some humorous, intelligent quip.
Anatolievich had sent Amalyia away at the end of dinner and escorted Alexander personally to the room where he'd be staying.. Anatolievich had placed the boy in the room next to his own, coming up with some lie about how it was much nicer than the others available, how the sun came through the window in the mornings and the view of the quarry. In reality, any of the other rooms in the house would have been perfectly fine, they were equally as splendid as this one, but he'd wanted Alexander near him. He'd only known the boy an evening, but this boy wasn't like the others, he didn't recoil from his touch, he seemed quite comfortable around him already. It was unnerving, but Anatolievich didn't care.
He stared up at his canopy, thinking about his dream, bringing back every detail, replaying it in his mind. His hand snaked beneath the bedclothes and he closed his eyes, conjuring the image of Alexander spread open beneath him to the forefront of his mind.
Alex woke feeling groggy. His head felt clouded and his eyes hurt. He'd been sleeping awkwardly on his arm and he pulled it out from underneath him, burying his face in the pillow. He was here. There was no going back. He was here to stay, to play the part of Alexander Friend, though in reality he wasn't really putting on a character, Anatolievich had seen through it, so now he was himself, with an altered backstory. It made him vulnerable and he didn't like it. He thought about Anatolievich's piercing gaze on him last night and the intelligence which would surely realise something was up if he faltered even for a second. He'd be on his toes twenty-four-seven. He'd swept the room for bugs last night and found none and was grateful. He didn't think he'd be able to hack it. Alex got out of bed and stumbled to his en-suite. Splashing water in his face, he looked at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was lank and lifeless. He wasn't surprised, the last time he'd washed it had been at the Pleasures house. He stripped off his pyjamas and stepped into the shower. Too late, he realised he had nothing to wash his hair with. There was body wash however and he used libral amounts of it, scrubbing the dirt from the previous days from his body.
He stayed there, under the pouring water for sometime, revelling in the warm water, in the peace and quiet. After about ten minutes, he shut off the water and wrapped one of the expensive looking towels around his waist. He flicked his hair out of his face and headed back into the bedroom. He jumped with a start as he saw Anatolievich in his room. The man turned to him and Alex tried not to show that he was uncomfortable, standing here shirtless in front of a man who was well known for his less than legal sexual exploits.
"Ah, Alexander," Anatolievich said, eyes unashamedly raking over Alex's bare chest. "I was wondering where you'd got to." His gaze lingered over the bullet wound over his heart.
"I was just in the shower." Alex said, gesturing at the open door.
"Yes, I see." the man paused, eyes jumping from Alex's face to his chest and back up again. "Well, Amaliya has just set breakfast and I would like you to join me." Alex nodded his consent. "I'll see you in five minutes then." Alex nodded again and he left, closing the door behind him. Alex let out a breath, he felt dirty, defiled almost. The intensity of Anatolievich's stare had made his skin crawl and he couldn't do anything about it. He checked the clock. He had time. Dropping the towel, Alex returned to the shower and scrubbed himself clean for the second time. He felt better after that. He dressed in the spare change of clothes in the satchel and brushed his hair neatly. He didn't bother with shoes, he figured Anatolievich wouldn't mind if he was barefoot. He downed two of his pills with water and opened the door. He headed down to where he thought the dining room might be and stopped outside an oak door, listening. He heard the chinking and clinking of plates and cutlery. Right place then.
He ran a hand through his damp hair, realising that he'd just messed his combing work from earlier. He took another deep breath. He could do this, and the quicker he did do it, the quicker he would be able to leave. He morphed his features into what he hoped looked like a smile and opened the door.
K-Unit were expected to arrive any minute now. There wouldn't be any drills in the first couple of days of course, the jet lag the british soldiers would be experiencing would alter their performance. Gun, Rex, Apache and Charge were all stood nervously at the front of Fort Bragg. It was a warm day, but overcast and grey which seemed to match their moods. The new Lieutenant that had been brought in was a complete bastard. He pulled them up on their smallest mistakes, made them run drills until they physically couldn't continue and threatened to discharge them if they didn't maintain proper standards around the SAS troops. Needless to say, Lieutenant Carmicheal was not anyone's favourite person.
What affected Ghost's mood the most however wasn't the abrupt dismissal of Lieutenant Stanley, it was Alex. They boy they had rescued from the kidnappers which hadn't seemed quite right. Ghost was sat alone on the edge of B Squadron's hut, rolling a cigarette. He didn't smoke anymore, but it was something to pass the time. He didn't like waiting around for things. He preferred to be where the action was, where there was danger. And something told him that was located wherever Alex was right now. He heard the electric gates swinging open and got to his feet. He should make an attempt at graciousness after all, it wasn't K-Units fault.
He jogged over to where the rest of his troop stood. They were all grim faced, staring at the jeep rolling up the drive.
"How many do you think there will be?" asked Rex, "Do you think there's more of them than us?"
Gun shook his head. "They can't fit more than five people in that Jeep, besides they need to keep the numbers the same if we're to be working together. It would be unfair if one side had more than the other,"
"This isn't a contest, Gun." Ghost said, sighing. Gun was always the competitive one. "We're here to promote unity or some bullshit like that."
They fell silent and watched as the Jeep pulled to a stop several metres away. A couple of seconds later the doors opened and the soldiers stepped out. There were five of them, as expected. Ghost surveyed them all slowly, taking in each of their appearances. The man who had been driving was short, but taller than Gun, black with close cropped dark hair and a broken nose which gave him a rugged, handsome look.
He was followed closely by an energetic man who looked like the youngest of the Unit, with wide eyes and big ears, he gave the impression of an overgrown school kid. An older man with fair hair and the beginnings of a moustache had his hand on the school kid's shoulder and was muttering something into his ear. Whatever is was made the other laugh loudly. From the other side of the vehicle came a tall man, clean shaven with a cleft chin and next to him was-
"Is that-"
"No-"
"It can't be."
"Is that allowed?"
"I didn't know women could join the SAS!"
A tall woman, with square shoulders was walking toward them, her hair flowing behind her like a ginger cloud. She was pretty, but not in a conventional way. Like the driver, her nose had evidently been broken several times too.
The Unit came to a stop in front of them and the driver held out his hand to Ghost first.. He shook it and they nodded at each other.
"I'm Wolf." he said in a gruff voice. "I'm the leader of K-Unit. This is Eagle," he indicated the school kid, "he's our sharpshooter. This is Snake," he pointed to the fair haired man, "he's our medic. This is Hawk," he tapped the tall man with the cleft chin, "he's our tactician and finally this," he prodded the woman in the side of her ribs, "is Bear, she's our hand to hand combat expert."
Gun, Rex, Charge and Apache stared at Bear, mouths open. She raised an eyebrow at them and said cooly, "Can I help?" They remained silent.
"I apologise for my Squadron." Ghost said roughly, treading on Charge's foot, "we're just not used to seeing women here, Delta Force doesn't allow them."
"That's stupid." Bear said bluntly.
Ghost wasn't sure what to say to this so he nodded awkwardly. He coughed to break the silence. "Let me introduce B-Squadron then." he said a little too enthusiastically.
"No time." came a sharp voice from behind them. Ghost turned to see Lieutenant Carmicheal a few feet away. "I've changed my mind, if soldiers can't get over a bit of jetlag, then they're no use to anyone on an overseas mission. You have ten minutes to dump your belongings in your allocated rooms and then you are to report to the sparring room immediately." He turned to address K-Unit directly, "I am Lieutenant Carmicheal, I'll be overseeing this programme." he turned, not waiting for a reply and walked off.
K-Unit raised their eyebrows at each other. "Bit overbearing isn't he?" asked Bear, grinning. There were murmurs of agreement from the Unit.
"We don't like him either," said Apache, smiling widely at them, "He's only been here a few days and he's already cut lunch down to forty minutes."
"How come he's only been here a few days?" asked Snake, scratching his moustache. "Our Lieutenant was in contact with a Lieutenant Stanley? What happened-"
"Nevermind that," Ghost cut across him, "I'll show you where your rooms are." He turned and headed into the building. He could sense the suspicious looks that K-Unit were giving each other, but his instructions had been clear. As soon as Alex left the Fort, he didn't exist. Ghost had never seen him and the rescue mission had never happened. But he couldn't stop thinking about Alex and his scared, pale face as he was led to the helicopter. He had to focus on something else, something completely un-Alex related. K-Unit would be that distraction. After all, they would never have met Alex before in their lives.
Soooo….yes…this happened.
B-Squadron finally met K-Unit - yay
Mr Creepy Russian Guy fancies Alex a little top much.
Lieutenant Carmicheal was originally a woman, but then I realised Delta Force don't allow woman (that's stupid) so I had to change it. Would totally have been badass though, I have plans for Carmicheal. jk, I don't plan anything, ever, but now that I've said I have plans I might make some, who knows?
Uni is going well guys, I've just done my first proper week, I'm stressed but I love writing so much so even when I have tons of work I know I'll be writing this so, yay?
I'm gonna do some Wolf's perspective soon probably, I totally forgot about B-Squadron as a plot point, I know, its so bad, I don't plan, I'm sorry.
I know the writing of Alex's POV is not good, honestly, its awful but I just wanted to post something and I'll make it up to you. Sorry for the raunchy start by the way, probably gave some of you a little scare. I tried to romantise it a little as its from Anatolievich's POV and that's ovbs how he wants to see it
So yes, hope you liked, sorry again about the middle part, I know its rushed and the quality of the writing leaves a lot to be desired, please comment, honestly I can't tell you how much it motivates me to write. I think I have some weird kind of praise thing going on, but oh well, life is life.
Hope you're all having a fab time doing whatever you're doing. If you have any good AR fic recs please share them - for me and other readers, I know I scour comments on other fics for recommendations.
If any of you love Voltron, which you may or may not, if you don't, I suggest you get on that, I know its a bit dodge and the fanbase is a little dodge too, but honestly some of the fics are just amazing - particularly 'To Be Vulnerable' by Amairawrites.I love it so much,
Anyway, bye for now, will be back with the next chapter in a bit. Hope your lives are going well, if they're not and you need someone to talk to, hit me up, I'm decent at advice and yeah. Hope you liked :)
