HOLA AMGIAS/AMEGOS!
Yeah. I learn French at school.
THANK GOD FOR ONE OF MY BEST MATES LEARNING SPANISH! XD
Song: Magnet by Megurine Luka and Hatsune Miku
Pairing: Skans. (Skipper and Hans)
The shadows were comforting, flicking with every scratch of his pen against the paper in front of him. The warm amber glow emananting from the desk lamp next to him, the blown glass covered in the scene of some country feild. The hay was long and blown back by some sort of wind the auburn trees twisting and turning above, locked in some internal conflict. The sky had even been washed out to a yellowey hue, sun a blistering force in the picture.
The lamp wasn't his. It was Johnson's. She had always loved the lamp, the sweet scene reminding her of her easy childhood. Manfredi's lucky bracelet lay from where it had been threaded around it after his death, the girls enamourment with the lamp only increasing after that had happened. The thin silver chain was covered in a strange assortment of everything from paperclips and bottle-tops threaded onto it, something to represent everything he held dear. But strategically placed in the center of the chain was a small yin-yang symbol, witch folded open to reveal a pictures of himself Johnson and Manfredi.
He cast his gaze away from the items and turned back to the report he was supposed to be writing. The letters blurred and slid around the page with his fatiuge and he slowly lay the pen down, head following. The misson had been tough, but there had been no major injuries on his end.
A chill breeze stirred over his arms and Skipper shot up straight.
He hadn't opened the window.
His gaze swung over to the curtains that were now pulling and struggling in the wind. Instantly he moved to to door, blocking who evers exit if they tried to leave.
"Come out." He growled, body shifting into the fighting stance easily.
A strong voice came from the shadows, smothered by the accent even years in america couldn't sway. "Hello to you too Skipper."
A slender flame burns at the edge of my heart
Without warning, it spreads into a burning passion
My butterfly, flitting around it chaotically
Scales dropping into your hand
'Keep up Skippy, you know how Johnson gets!" Manfredi shouted, mouth quirking in his usual grin as he darted down the full corridor, brushing past people with ease thanks to his small, lithe build.
Skipper swore and jogged after him, squshing by the onslaught of people as he attempted to fight his way through the mayhem. Half-hearted apologies tumbled from his mouth as he battled his way past.
"Watch it!" A snarky voice snapped and skipper instantly turned to adress the worman who had spoken. Her lips were broken and jagged from the multitue of scars, no doubt from the needly like fangs that protruded from her gums in a twisted and sickening fashion.
"Uh, yeah sorry." He stammered, backing away from the furious woman. And sprinting away from her, shuddering violently. "F unit." He muttered under his breath, shooting a look over his shoulder to see if she was gone.
A strong jolt sent him spinning to the floor, clutching his head and moaning painfully. Much to his surprise another groan joined his, harmonising strangely. Openening his eyes he was met by the sight of another boy about his age, rubbing his wrist and grimacing. His Black hair was ruffled, as if he had been running his hand through it all his life, eyes a light chestnut colour despite the fact his they were up he met the startle gaze of the agent.
"I'm so-" They began that the same time, both cutting off as well only to have the other do the same. A grin passed between them as the smaller pushed the cardboard box off his lap and sat up, offeing his hand to the other. "My name is Hans Søpapegøjer, and you are?" He asked,voice thick with an accent Skipper couldn't place.
"Uh, Skipper." He murmured, accepting the hand-shake and standing up. He dropped the limb like it had offended him, staring at it with a look of shock on his face. It had been so incredibly warm, like the boy had kept it in a fire all his life. Shaking off the oddity he cleared his throat "Just noticing... You're not from here are you?"
Hans shook his head. "No. I am from Denmark. Copenhagen to be naming names." He added, proving skippers earlier suspision and running a hand thorugh his ebony hair.
He had a wide mouth Skipper noticed, nose also slightly larger than what should have been expected. Luckily his eyes seemed to blance it out, the almost red brown drawing attention away from the other parts of his face and rendering him actually very handsome. Skipper frowned in self-confusion, since when did strangers become handsome?
The other male frowned at the floor and knelt down, scraping together a pile of paper from the loose leaves lying around. Skipper hesitated before joining him, reasoning that johnson wouldn't chew his head off if he was being helpful in someway.
"Just out of curiosity, you are not a skipper, no?" Hans asked, dragging the cardboard box towards him and dropping the now tidy pile of papers in.
Skipper chuckled and placed his own stack in afterwards. "Nah, I work under Johnson and Manfredi."
Hans paused, shooting him a strange look of realization and suspition. "Johnson, did she train you to fight?"
He nodded breifly. "Yeah." He was suddenly grinning. "She's training you isn't she?"
Hans dropped the strange stare and smiled, standing up off the floor. "Yes."
Skipper chuckled and passed him the box of files. "I'll be seeing you soon then, She's chosen to bring me to help her out."
Hans took it from him and slung it under one arm. "I am glad about that Skipper," He paused, turning away slightly. "You intruige me. Farewell." and with that he converged back into the crowd of people, vanishing from sight as Skipper stood watching him dissapear.
"Who's the new boyfriend Skippy?" Manfredi queried from behind him, forcing him to leap up into the air from shock. His heart was hammering in his ribcage, but hadn't it been doing that already?
I am wrapped around your finger from the lips to the tongue
Even if this is something that cannot be allowed the flames jump higher still
He back flipped away from the kick, tip of the shoe just brushing past his nose, swinging a leg out only to have him leap away.
Blue and brown met, both the soldiers creeping around, scouring their opponent for any weaknesses. The girl stood watch, wicked green eyes scanning them for any flaws. Skipper lunged, feinting to one side before darting to the other, momentarily confusing the Dane. He swung out, but the blow was blocked, just like he had expected it to be. Their eyes met for a split second, friendly rivalry glimmering behind them as another punch was swung.
The girl stepped forward, hands spread wide and lips curling into a wild grin. "You two are way too evenly matched. I reckon you could keep going until someone collapses from exhaustion!" She praised, one hand moving to her hip. "But if this had been a real battle, and you were actually fighting each other, what would you do to try gain the upper hand?"
Skipper gave an almost crazy looking smile, "Try psyche them out, get inside their head, make them contemplate their every move."
Johnson snapped her fingers. "Correct. However that wouldn't work on you. You're already paranoid."
Hans smirked as his friend gave a sharp retort to the blonde. "Admit it skipper. You are rather paranoid."
He faltered slightly, watching as the girl strode off to correct another sparring pair. Hans chuckled.
"So you see my argument?" He lay a hand on his shoulder, looking at him with mischief in his eyes. "Do you wish to spar again?"
Skipper nodded, slipping away from the warmth on his shoulder, swallowing to get rid of the lump in his throat. Even without realizing it he could hear a small voice in the back of his mind calling to him.
'it would never be allowed…'
I want to embrace you, I want you to tell me
That you don't think this is a mistake
I want you to kiss me, I want you to remake me
I want to drown in this moment of captivation
He tossed in his bunk, curling the duvet up around himself as he glared at the clock miserably. It rang out, reading 12:56am, mocking his inability to sleep. The blankest were bunched and tossed about from all his twisting and turning that night. As heavy as his eye-lids felt sleep seemed opposed to accepting him, shoving him away disdainfully and keeping him wide awake.
Skipper moaned and flung himself onto his back, knotting his hands behind his head and staring at the bed above him, the multicolored mattress and interlocking metal pieces. It did nothing to erase the guilt that was rising in his throat with every second that passed. Soldiers kept their mind on their work, they didn't have time for love.
They definitely didn't have room for possibly being bi-sexual.
He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, hoping to ward off both the invasive thoughts and the muffled shouts from both Manfredi and Johnson as they argued behind closed doors. He considered going to join them but decided against it in case he finally managed to win the battle for the land of nod.
It hurt. It hurt knowing that he liked one of his good friends in that way, a way that he really shouldn't. And what felt like the final blow to a downed man was that he may and possibly felt the same, and yet he couldn't do anything about in fear of any negative repercussions that would strike not only him but the one he loved.
'Love?' he mused. Was that it? Did he love Hans?
It was playing with fire but briefly he allowed himself the tempting pleasure to recall how he had felt when Hans had tackled him to the floor, the warmth and dizzy sensation of falling increasing every time their skin made constant. What would it feel like just to be held? Not some crazy training exercise but just being held by the Dane, to hold him even!
He allowed his eyes to open a fraction. What would happen if he told him? In an ideal world he would feel the same, but what if he didn't? was it worth losing a friend to try be something more? And then there was the agency as well, what would they say?
Skipper exhaled. He couldn't deny there had been times when he had been lost just wondering what his lips would feel like against his own, or how it would be to hear his heart-beating. But it was crazy talk. Nothing would ever happen between them and he just had to accept it and let go of his deluded fantasies and get back to training and being a soldier.
It was then he was being roughly shaken. "Skippy, wake up!" Manfredi's voice was as childish as ever but filled with impatience.
He jerked up right, narrowly avoiding the bunk above him and looked over at the pair standing in front of him. "I'm awake. What is it?" He asked, letting his gaze wander from Johnson's strangely almost strangled looking expressions to the blank canvas that was Manfredi's
The blonde sighed. "Skipper, an agent has been reported missing and Manfredi thinks he knows where he went. Can you just tell us something?"
Skipper nodded, turning to the ginger. "shoot."
Manfredi tilted his jaw upwards, eyes clear as they looked down. "What is Hans last name? all the files on him are gone and we need to know."
Skipper could feel his heart pick up pace as he scanned the pair of them, the gears turning in his mind fanatically. He shook his head slowly, disbelief of his face. "no… he's not."
"The name!" Manfredi snapped, shoulders suddenly slumping and eyes growing tired immediately afterwards. "Please skipper, I just have to know if my theory is right."
"Søpapegøjer." skipper spat. "Why do you need to know."
Manfredi sighed and gave johnson a meaningful look. "Translated into Danish? Puffin."
The girl squeesed her eyes shut and darted from the room into the hallway, cursing under her breath as she did.
"Manfredi, what is going on!" skipper demanded angrilly, sitting up straighter and glaring at him.
He folded his arms and stared, pity in his eyes. "A group of terriorists have been attacking Denmark. Every where they go they leave a small picture of a puffin." He faltered. "Hans and all his files have been reported missing since 1600 hours. I think that he might not be the person we all thought he was."
Every moment, it's harder to restrain myself
If this is love, I want to wear it on my sleeve
The "strange feeling" turns into an unbearable longing
I would follow you to the end of forever
There was a deep silence in the jeep, all three of the soldiers inside it lost inside the heavy fog of their own thoughts as they contemplated what was going to happen next. Skipper stared at Manfredi and Johnson, wishing he could see what was ticking over inside their heads. He was sure they thought Hans was guilty, but he couldn't be. And if he was, he wouldn't have done it intentionally, would he?
The internal conflict was making the black haired soldier sick to his stomach as he clenched his teeth to avoid screaming, just for the sake of screaming. It was anguish to not know, whether he could still love the one he did or whether it was time to throw in the towel and resign himself to hating him.
What he had felt had almost doubled, mounting inside him and almost driving him mad with the crazy want to know. Everyone was speculating, all of them having ideas, but none of them were concrete facts yet.
And for some reason it had seemed wrong to come here, too Denmark, too the mines where the next bombs were supposed to be. To follow Hans to where everyone expected him to be.
"74 miles." Johnson said, voice cleverly devoid of all emotion.
Skipper closed his eyes and let his hands drift over the gun in his possession, feeling every inch of it and reminding himself that it was there.
And that if it came to it there would be a bullet with Hans name on it.
If my heart goes astray I will be easily relieved
as if we had no time to feel tender each other
That dream has never come again
There is no chance in our reality
There were gun-shots everywhere, bullets careening through the air and slamming into rock, wood and flesh. Cries and howls were flying about, chasing the blood that was splashing out onto the dusty ground. Skipper wasn't wasting time, ducking and dodging between fallen carts and piles of rubble, shooting at everything that moved.
He hated to admit it but it felt good to be in his position. Running on pure adrenaline, tapping into that darker side of your nature that liked the bloodshed and chaos, and acting on instinct and responding with an animal like reaction to everything.
No warning signals came with the hard blow to the back of his head, not enough to kill, but enough to stun, carefully measured as the mystery attacker grasped his wrists and shoulder, tugging him backwards away from the fight. Skipper would have fought back, if he wasn't too bust with the fight against the vertigo and dizzy blurry vision. He was shoved against a wall in an off track of the main mine.
"I told you that if I ever left to never come try find me!" A voice hissed. A sharp slap across the face pulled him from the light-headed world and back to earth. "Why did you come!"
"Why did you leave?" He retorted, glaring up at the now cold chestnut eyes and ruffled black hair of the one he loved. Hans threw his head back and groaned, turning and starting to pace.
"You think my last name is a fake don't you?" He hissed, rounding back on the commando. "Well it is not, this is my father's organization. Mine to inherit when he passes." He glared voice hard and emotionless if not for the seething red angry note hidden inside it.
The man against the wall returned the stare. "Have you considered not inheriting his o-"
"HE WILL KILL ME IF I DO NOT!" Hans shouted, grabbing Skippers face between his hands and dragging him closer as he sank to his knees. "Do you not see? I did everything he told me too, I followed all his rules and now, unless you die, I will." He hissed, eyes growing slick. "And I was the last to know he wanted you dead." He murmured.
Skipper swallowed. "You don't have to do-"
"I have too. There is no choice in the matter." Hans growled, jerking Skippers head around to face him again when he tried to look away. "Listen to me skipper! I was never told to become your friend and I was never told to fall in love either!"
"What?" skipper pleaded, not wanting all the emotional stress that was being dumped on him, not to mention the battle that was still raging and that could claim his team-mates at any given moment.
But it all fell short in comparison to the warm lips that captured his own in those moments.
"Skipper?"
If we touch, I know we can never go back and that's just fine...
You are everything in the world to me
Hans leapt away, gun poised on Skipper as he stared up at Manfredi who was standing on the half collapsed wall between this track and the next, brown eyes wide and hands ready as he looked between Hans and Skipper equally confused and shocked.
"I will shoot Manfredi! Just do not make me!" Hans snarled, a slightly feral light entering his eyes as he stood with finger poised on the trigger.
The ginger narrowed his eyes. "I don't want any problems Søpapegøjer, so let him go and we can both get back to our sides of the fight." He let his gaze flicker noticeably between the two of them. "But at least I know what side I'm on."
A deep voice echoed the tunnel "Hans!"
All the pairs of eyes shot to the tall bulky man who now stood in the mouth of the tunnel, eyes cold and calculating as he stared at his son. Skipper briefly noticed that he had the same wide mouth and nose as his son, but on him they just didn't hold the same charm. He waved a hand at the two soldiers.
"Gå på, dræbe dembegge. Du vedhvad der forventes afdig sommin søn." He growled, watching the boy fericly.
Skipper didn't know what the man was saying, being unable to understant Danish. But it became clear when Hans lifted the gun and fired, face blank and emotionless as he sent a bullet stright though Manfredi's chest.
"There." He grolwed.
The man then turned on him, watching him as he breathed rapidly, eyes wide and scared."Hvad med, at en?" He chuckled.
A bolt and fury shot though him at how easily this man could pass off death like that.
"He is as good as dead father. You have not seen the wound on his back." Hans pressured his father, and when the man didn't move added. "We must move quick, there is another as quiet and skilled as a deadly viper."
The man smirked and turned away from the boy waltzing eaily down the passage. "godt gået, kommer nufor vi haren massearbejde at gørevære-." He stopped speaking, and looked down at where an agonizing pain had exploded from his chest. And then dropped.
"I'm sorry." Hans muttered, dropping the gun he had just used to slaughter his father and ran, faster than what skipper could comprehend in the small time frame. But he didn't stay still for long, standing and thowing himself over the crumbling wall, skidding down it and grazing his sides when he did.
Manfredi was barely alive. Hans shot off under the pressure of the moment obviously.
"Oh my god!" He gasped, kneeling down next to the wounded soldier and pressing his hands over the bloodied wound, causing him to stir. "Don't worry Manfredi, well get you al-" He jibbered instantly, desperate to come up with the right words.
"I'm not worried Skippy..." Manfredi coughed. "I'm as good as dead and you know it."
He let his hands fall back by his sides, now coated in the thick red blood of his comarade, shaking his head in disbelief at thow shortly his life had ended.
"Skipper... For What ever the hell you wind up becoming... you have my blessing as a good mate and all round but-kicking guy." He gasped, body going into a spasm and clenching together tightly as he moaned quietly between his teeth.
"Manfredi don't, don't strai-" He whimpered when his left arm was suddenly draped on his thigh.
"Give It to her..." He hissed, breaking off into rapid breaths and a shallow heart beat.
He didn't bother arguing and fumbled with the short chain, hard too do behind his tears.
Anxiety arrives with the dawn to find me still crying
When you whispered "it's all right" did I hear tears in your voice, too?
The curtains were open wide as they clung to eachother, tears still falling steadilly. The stark hues of the dawn were starting to stain the sky with it's startling pallet, erasing the darkness and drawing in the light.
"I want to go back." He sobbed, buying his head in the girls hair as she clutched him around the middle, face buried in his chest, neither in the arms they wanted to be in.
She inhaled slowly, breath hitching. "We can't change anything now. He's dead. Hans killed him." The end of her sentance broke off into silent sobs, the girl clinging tighter to him still.
'Hans may have killed him, but he was killed by his father, inside.' Skipper clung to that idea, not wanting to let the idea fade.
"It's all right... we'll be ok..."
The words didn't work how she wanted them too, the tears in her own voice made it too raw too be soothing and too untrue to be hopeful.
I want to embrace you, I want you to tell me
That you don't think this is a mistake
I want you to kiss me, I want you to remake me
I want to drown in this moment of captivation
"Skippers log. For a long time I have been hating myself for loving him, when really the answer was so clear all along.
Hate him, Stop all the pain."
I am drawn to you like a magnet
Even if I left, we would find each other again
I've touched you, I can never go back and that's just fine.
You are everything in the world to me
"So you came back again." Skipper snarled violently, hands clenching and unclenching into fists, waiting for the Black haired man to lunge.
Hans smirked, stepping from the shadows a coy smile rippling up his face. "Of course Skipper, I told you I would didn't I?" He purred.
Fury came like a slap in the face, the sudden snap tensing his muscles and sending red awash over his vision. When he spoke his voice was as cold as dry-ice. "I'm going to kill you, and enjoy every second of your screaming."
Hans shook his head and shed his coat insouciantly, the careless air hitting him harder than any fists could have as he draped it over the back of the chair. He looked back up and tipped his head to the side, suppressing the smirk until only the corners of his mouth flicked upwards. "You wouldn't do that skipper. You wouldn't hurt me."
"Oh give me a minute!" He spat.
Hans looked him in the eyes, taking a step forward and throwing his arms wide. Hidden in the chestnut depths was a flicker of hopelessness, but the mask coating it was one of calm assurance. "Come on then" He said, gaze boring into the perfect mid-blue of his eyes. "Take a shot. Go for the throat, or the stomach, makes no difference to me min kaere."
Skipper faltered, lip curling. "Don't call me that." He snarled.
Hans just blinked, gesturing at his open stance. The commando swallowed fists curling ever tighter until his nails were digging like dull blades into his palms. His jaw was tense, teeth at the point of shattering behind his deep frown. The shadows that had once been soft and comforting were suddenly leering closer like monsters, twisted eyes looking in as he reached for the knife on his bedside table.
It sat wrong in his hand. All those years of perfect balance and coordination, never failing slashes and jabs the blade was like a stone in his palm. He curled his hand around it, fingers sliding over the worn handle unable to find the right grooves for them to sit in. He looked up, Hans was still there, face as smooth and expressionless as a marble statue, willingly passing his face to him and the adverse knife.
"If I don't kill you, you'll just come back again. Hurt me more." Skipper murmured, more to himself than the Dane.
The male lowered his arms hesitantly as his foe stared at the blade in his grip with the eyes that belonged on a lost child, glazed and lashed with hurt. He stepped closer, gingerly prying the offending tool from his grasp and tossing it away towards the shadows. Skipper looked up and Hans caught his face between his scarred palms.
"I don't come back because I want to." He murmured. "I come back because I'm drawn to you, like a pyromaniac to a flame. I can't stay away from you skipper." He leant closer, nose brushing his rivals and eyes searching for any spark of life. "All those years ago you intrigued me and you still do."
His eyes slid shut over his eyes, Shutting off any part of him that was screaming for the madness to stop, hearing only the wailing need to be closer to the reason for all his pain.
"I can't go back if you do this." Skipper whispered. "I can't go back to hating you."
"Good." Hans replied, suddenly crushing his lips against Skippers, hands snaking around his waist and dragging him closer. Hands knotted into his hair, forcing him closer.
They broke apart, needy and breathless, hesitating only long enough for Hans to murmur
"Du betyder alt for mig min kære." Before he was enveloped in another desperate and passionate kiss.
"You mean the world to me also, my dear." skipper whispered, his voice rippling into the shattering silence, laced with conviction.
'Let the world judge. I don't care anymore...'
And that took me almost 2 weeks.
I am not proud of it at all. But I can only hope that CrazeTheWaffleCat enjoyed it.
Up next… PRIPPER! So yeah… there is that to look forward to ^-^
Kay. Untill then,
"SHUT UP CLEMSON! NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOU!"
