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Mornings at the Red Army base were hectic — soldiers running back and forth for their early warm-ups, others eating loudly at the mess hall, and yet others smoking and chatting outside the base walls.
Paul was among the smoking soldiers, taking a long drag from his chewed cigarette.
Looking around the yard he spotted Pat running his daily set. He was out there every morning with the other soldiers, keeping his physique battle ready despite being kept as a personal pilot to Red Leader.
It was a luxurious job all things considered. As a pilot himself, Paul was considered an asset to whatever team of soldiers he was assigned to. He wasn’t required to do all the exercises the others were (though enough to keep in shape for his physical exams.) Yet, Pat kept up the same training regimen, despite the cushy position.
In Paul’s eyes, he was perfect. It was a shallow crush sure, having not talked at length with the other pilot. But, seeing him out in the field, the way he held himself… it was breathtaking.
As he was captivated in watching Pat, he failed to notice Red Leader approaching his side. The Norwegian coughed to announce his presence to Paul, who yelped and nearly choked on his cigarette in surprise.
“S-sir!” Paul saluted, face flushed with embarrassment.
“At ease, Paul,” Tord waved his hand flippantly, “I was just going to ask how the mission faired the other day. But, I see you are…” he followed Paul’s previous stare to Pat and smirked, “...otherwise preoccupied.”
Paul wished he had actually choked on his cigarette.
Anything would be better than talking to his superior about getting caught admiring his personal pilot.
“Yes...well…” Paul sputtered.
“I don’t actually care what sort of mushy feelings you have,” Tord cut him off with an eye roll, “I just found it amusing is all.”
“Right,” Paul muttered, both offended and relieved.
“But, because I’m such a supportive leader,” Tord continued, “I’ll let you be my co-pilot on my next mission.”
Nevermind. Not relieved. Not relieved in the slightest.
Tord patted Paul on the shoulder before laughing and leaving him to his profuse sweating.
Paul hoped that he wasn’t serious. That could only go badly... at least for Paul.
“What did Red Leader want?” Pat said, seemingly appearing from nowhere.
Paul’s cigarette was dangerously close to choking him for the second time today.
“Oh, uh, he was just asking for a report on my last mission,” Paul nodded to himself.
“Oh I see,” Pat, “He seemed to find whatever you said amusing. I haven’t seen him laugh like that in a long time.”
“Uh, yeah,” Paul chuckled, apprehensive, “I guess I must have… certainly said something— anyway, would you uh… like a smoke?”
Paul quickly changed subjects, lest the real reason behind Tord’s amusement comes to light.
Pat shook his head, “No thanks. I’ve been trying to quit.”
Paul nodded, “Smart man.”
Finishing off his own cigarette, he flicked it to the ground and crushed it beneath his boot.
“So, Red Leader also mentioned that I might be a co-pilot for him sometime soon,” Paul attempted small talk.
Pat raised his brows, “Really? Usually, he does it himself.”
Paul raised his brows too, “I didn’t realize he knew how to pilot.”
Pat shrugged, “I suppose it just never comes up. But it’ll be interesting flying with someone besides Red Leader.”
“Uh yeah, I’m looking forward to working with you,” Paul tripped over his words, “That is, seeing that you’re his personal pilot it’ll be great to… learn from you?”
Pat laughed, melodic to Paul’s ears.
“I’m sure it’s pretty much the same. Just, different company is all.”
Paul gulped, “Well hopefully this company will be… interesting?”
Pat narrowed his eyes in thought before smiling again, “Well I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”
Paul nodded, pulling out another cigarette and squeezing it anxiously between his fingers.
Pat hummed to himself, eyes thoughtful and amused, “Well I’ll see you on that mission then. Whenever that might be.”
Turning swiftly he waved back at Paul and jogged off to the rest of the training soldiers.
“Yeah… see you…” Paul waved towards his distant figure.
This would definitely end badly.
The start of the mission went fairly smoothly, all things considered. It wasn’t until Paul yelled in surprise at the cloudberg did things start to go downhill.
Mainly their plane crashing, their cargo flying who knows where and two of the three passengers getting their parachutes tangled up in nearby trees.
Paul was right when he thought this would end badly.
But, as Tord left to go secure a ladder or scissors or something that would help them get down, Paul and Pat were left to shoot the breeze until then.
It didn’t help that Paul’s parachute tangled him upside down.
It also definitely didn’t help that Pat was far too close for comfort, faces nearly touching, close enough to hear the frustrated grunts from Pat as he attempted to free himself.
“So uh… how much do you bet Red Leader is just going to leave us here?” Paul joked with an awkward chuckle.
Pat let out a surprised bark of laughter at that, hitting Paul straight through the heart with a warm feeling.
“Well, he better not. Or else he’d be missing two of his best pilots,” Pat hummed, “A freak accident now and then isn’t much to put off Red Leader too much.”
“You think I’m a good pilot?” The question was out before Paul could stop it, flinching in embarrassment.
“Huh? I mean of course. You were doing a good job as co-pilot, I think. At least until you forgot we were in a plane.”
“Right, right…” Paul mumbled bashfully, “I guess I was just distracted.”
“By the “cloudberg”?”
“By you,” Paul admitted, looking aside.
“...Oh,” Pat mumbled, taken aback by the admission.
“Oh,” Paul affirmed.
“I uh… am flattered?” Pat spoke slowly, “I just don’t know you very well. Besides, well, this…”
Paul nodded, wishing he had a cigarette to take the edge off.
Luckily, Tord came back just in time to save them from an awkward silence that was sure to ensue.
It was also lucky for them that it happened to be a ladder to help them untangle and not something like a chainsaw to cut the tree down — which, Paul suspected, was just as likely if the rumor mills were anything to go by.
After a grueling time untangling and some minor difficulties involving Paul nearly landing face-first on the ground, the three headed back in the direction of civilization, hoping to hitch a ride with an unsuspecting driver or two back to base.
After the day's end, Pat spent his time wondering about what Paul said about him being distracting, the implications being of course that Paul… liked him to some extent beyond being just co-pilots. He couldn’t even say friends because he didn’t really know him. Yet Paul seemed to know him?
Which should be unsurprising considering his position, yet…
It didn’t exactly unnerve him, no. It just confused him as to why and how he had garnered such (romantic?) admiration.
He might have been a high rank in Red Leader’s army, but he was still just a soldier, through and through. He kept up the dutiful training regimen to remind him of this every day. He was nothing special, just another piece in Red Leader’s army, his plan.
Paul obviously thought otherwise.
If he was distracting enough to crash a plane, there was something to that.
Perhaps the only way to truly figure it out was to find out Paul’s true thoughts and intentions. And while he was still confused by the intrigue, he couldn’t help but feel excited about the prospect.
‘ Well’, he mused, ‘There’s no harm in having a little fun with this, right?’
And so began the flirting.
Two days of nonsensical flirtation later and Paul was on the verge of a breakdown. After months and months of silent pining, he had resolved himself to admiring from afar. Yet one disaster mission later, and Pat was almost paying him too much attention.
A friendly handwave or two from across the mess hall he might have hoped for at most. Yet Pat was quite daring in his open flirtation— touching his shoulder, his bicep, his back, all when talking to him.
And it seemed like Pat would go out of his way to talk to him as well. Chance meetings almost seemed planned. Not to mention the meetings with higher-ups were a disaster now as it seemed like Pat tried to lock eyes with him at every chance he could. That mischievous yet charming grin winning him over and over again.
Paul was just about run ragged with mixed feelings. Did this mean Pat liked him back? Because back during the mission he wasn’t interested at all. He had barely noticed Paul before that mission too— so what had changed?
And what if the flirting was just his attempt to be friendly— or worse— if he was just being sympathetic and pitying Paul for his one-sided feelings?
He needed a damn break from all of it.
He got his wish the next day with an outbreak of the undead attacking the Red Base.
They were pushed back to an amusement park and forced to fight for their lives from the horde of zombies after them. It wasn’t until some unnamed forces managed to capture the zombies and turn the tides of the catastrophe were they able to make a tactical retreat back to base.
Of course, morale was low after that among the army— losing a good portion of their soldiers didn’t help either.
Many high ranked officers had given their lives to the cause and Red Leader was gritting his teeth at the results of the onslaught. They had been no help and could barely survive. How would they conquer the world at this rate?
So Tord decided that he would bring in the big guns. In this case, a giant robot that he had been hoarding at his old friends’ place.
Meanwhile, Patryk was left to pick up the pieces of the fallen army, trying to provide morale as Red Leader’s essential second in command.
Paul offered some solace here and there, but with the memory of Patryk bleeding out at the amusement park’s arcade, it was hard to bring up his spirits. Cigarettes were chain-smoked rather than being chewed on, alcohol was guzzled as a stress relief rather than a recreational activity.
The disappointed gaze from Patryk anytime he would go into a drunken stupor didn’t help either.
At least the flirting stopped.
Eventually, Paul and Patryk were called out by an emergency signal from Tord.
Arriving on the scene they saw their boss bleeding out on his right side and the shattered remains of both Tord’s robot and his dreams.
They patched him up best they could, but it was another deep blow for everyone in the army.
Patryk too looked solemn and worn out from the intense whiplash of emotions and events that had transpired.
It pained Paul to see him so upset.
He offered to be a shoulder for him, putting down his own vices for once for Patryk’s sake.
The watery look he received nearly broke his heart right then and there.
Somehow it had happened; the rush of the battlefield and the emotions involved together caused them to grow closer.
From the initial catastrophe of a plane crash to the current regrowing of morale in the troops, they did it together.
Red Leader had grown more distant from everyone except Patryk and Paul. The trio was determined to put back all the pieces they had lost.
At some point, Paul spilled out his feelings for Patryk again, ashamed to be so close when he was still harboring feelings for him.
It wasn’t until Patryk squeezed his hand and smiled did he feel like everything would be okay.
And if that wasn’t enough, the following kiss certainly uplifted his spirits.
Yes, Paul figured everything would definitely turn out fine.