Hello everyone, here I am with a new crossover.
First of all, I'd like to make it clear that this text is in response to a wind from the chatter, writing, reading and good humor group.
This story was written in French and I used an automatic translator to translate it into English. I've tried to correct the small mistakes that remain as much as possible, but there are never any left, I'm sorry.
.
I'd also like to remind you that the characters are the property of their authors.

A word of warning here:
- A good knowledge of the Hawaii 5-0 series may be necessary to fully understand this story.
-I deviate from the series at several points, even though I rely heavily on it.
-This story is about homosexual couples, sex between men and torture, so if you don't like it, don't read it.

I hope you enjoy reading

**Theme 40: Randomly**

Inspired by the movie pitch of Knight & Day: Whether it's for hiding, covering oneself, or discreetly passing an object through customs, an airport, or elsewhere, your character randomly selects a person from the crowd. However, things get complicated as the two get closer, and a lightning bolt of love brings them together.

Minimum 1000 words

Chapter 1

Steve clenched his teeth, trying not to make a sound and not to faint. In the year since he had joined the Navy's secret services, he had never failed a single mission until this one, but this time, he had messed up big time. He hadn't just failed the mission by losing track of their target; no, his entire unit had been killed, he had been captured, and then tortured. He still couldn't fathom how these men had managed to get them. They were right in front of them, they had turned at a corner in a Bucharest alley, and suddenly they were all around them. The alley had lit up like a nightclub, and all his comrades had fallen to the ground before he himself was enveloped in darkness. When he regained consciousness, three men surrounded him, demanding to know why he had followed them. They quickly produced knives, subjecting the soldier to a very unpleasant time. But the twenty-one-year-old had resourcefulness and luck on his side. His tormentors had left the scene while he was unconscious, leaving the door to the torture chamber open. Steve had grabbed a piece of cloth to bandage the gaping wound on his stomach and had wandered through the corridors of the strange building where he found himself until he managed to escape. Once outside, he thought his injuries might be causing him to hallucinate. In front of him stretched a paved shopping avenue where men and women in colorful outfits with pointed hats were moving around, some on broomsticks, others with an owl or a toad on their shoulders. He needed to find help quickly; if he was already having hallucinations, his condition was dire.

He spotted a bar where several men were talking a few meters away from him. Hopefully, they would call for help. He walked slowly towards them, feeling his strength waning with each step, until he was facing a red-haired man with sun-kissed skin, numerous freckles, and ocean-blue eyes that hypnotized him. This strong-shouldered, long-haired, and handsome man interrupted his conversation with an ordinary blond man to address a few words to Steve in Romanian.

Voices that Steve recognized without difficulty rose behind them, and the brunette acted without thinking. He sat on the redhead's lap and kissed him deeply. To his astonishment, the man didn't push him away; instead, he responded to the kiss, closed his arms around Steve, pressed him against himself, and slid his fingers into his hair. When they broke apart, Steve was breathless and somewhat disoriented.

"You have some explaining to do," whispered the redhead in cold English, bringing Steve back to reality.

He wanted to explain, to get up, to extricate himself from the arms of this man who both attracted and frightened him, but he knew he was in no condition to defend himself, and, above all, he felt his strength leaving him.

"A doctor," he murmured before losing consciousness.

He felt surprisingly good when he began to regain consciousness. The support against his back was comfortable, the sheets on his skin were soft, the air was warm, he felt good, felt no pain, and heard nothing but the sounds of a distant village life. He tried to piece together his memories, but none of them could explain the sensations accompanying his awakening.

He opened his eyes, and his vision quickly adjusted to the dim light. He was in a room with wooden walls and ceiling, part of an old house, yet the decoration was simple and modern. His gaze fell on a square silhouette in front of the windows partially obscured by slightly open shutters. Steve's heart raced when he recognized the man he had kissed on the street. He didn't know whether he should worry about being in danger or about wanting to kiss him again. His heart rate increased even more as the redhead put down his book and approached him.

Steve sat up quickly and scooted back towards the headboard, his survival instinct stronger than his attraction to this stranger who froze.

"If I wanted to harm you, I wouldn't have tended to your wounds," he whispered.

Steve relaxed slightly but remained cautious, especially when he saw him approach again. He followed each of his movements with his eyes, ready to spring out of his reach at any moment, but the redhead merely sat at the edge of the bed, picked up a glass from the bedside table, took a sip, and offered it to him. The soldier hesitated, but he was thirsty. He took the glass and drank, praying that he wasn't making a mistake by trusting his instincts.

"And now, how about you explain why you jumped me like that?"

Steve blushed as he couldn't suppress a slight smirk. He masked his unease by taking a sip of water. The redhead let out a brief, clear laugh that made Steve's stomach flip. Slowly, he moved his hand towards the brunette's cheek, caressed his lips with his thumb, and locked his ocean-blue eyes onto Steve's lighter ones. Steve held his breath; he wanted to kiss this man again uncontrollably, the man who approached him as one would approach a frightened animal, this incredibly handsome man who finally pressed his lips against his. The kiss deepened immediately as both of them moaned from finally feeling complete together. Steve's head was spinning; at twenty-one, he had already had lovers, but none of them had made him feel this way with a single kiss. They parted, breathless, the redhead's hand on the exposed skin of the brunette's chest, his thumb gently caressing the area between the bandages. Steve was warm, felt good, trusted in the arms of this stranger, and didn't want to ask questions—just to enjoy. However, the man seemed to disagree.

"What's your name?"

"Steve, and you?"

"Charlie. So, tell me how an American soldier ended up gravely wounded, fainting on a stranger's lap after kissing him out of the blue?"

Steve felt uneasy that Charlie already knew so much about him. How had he given himself away?

"Your military plates," the redhead answered his unspoken question.

"My mission failed. I was captured and tortured. I had an opportunity to escape, and I took it."

"And you kissed me because they were coming, right?"

"That's right."

"What do you know about these people who tortured you?"

"Not much."

Charlie slid his hand under Steve's chin and turned his face towards him, holding it gently but firmly.

"Don't lie to me. I don't want them to kill you as soon as you leave here. So, what do you know?"

"They're persons of interest to the United States, a potential threat, but I don't know more. We had nothing on them until they surrounded us and killed everyone with bursts of light."

They stared at each other for several minutes during which Steve wondered why he had said all that, as if he couldn't contain his words. An alarm sounded, and Charlie stood up, making Steve shiver from the loss of contact.

"Stay here," the redhead ordered him before exiting and closing the door behind him.

Steve wondered if he should take the opportunity to leave, but he had no desire to be away from Charlie. He wanted to understand this attraction and refused to consider it a mere infatuation. The subject of his thoughts returned to the room like a whirlwind before he had time to decide.

"You have to leave.

"What? No! Why?" protested the brunette as he got up.

Charlie growled and grabbed him by the shoulders, pinning him against the door. He was slightly shorter but much more muscular and exuded raw strength. The redhead kissed him fiercely, departing from his lips as forcefully as he had seized them.

"I can't tell you everything, but basically, we're at war here. You're in danger if you stay, so you have to leave."

"But Romania isn't at war."

"I can't explain. It's too long," Charlie repeated, handing his t-shirt to the brunette. "I promise I'll find you to explain."

The redhead kissed him again, and suddenly Steve felt weak. His head spun, and he fell into the arms of the young man facing him before darkness enveloped him once more.