Chapter Text
“When was last time you ate?”
Jäger’s head snapped up from searching for a fallen screw. Clearly he hadn’t been expecting anyone at the workshop’s door.
“I’m busy,” Jäger grumbled.
“I see you are busy not eating or sleeping.”
Given the nature of their training, it was easy to get injured, which meant when operators rotated back onto the rapid deployment roster, their training was restricted to the firing and explosives ranges. Even their off duty activities were limited: they had to stay within a 150 kilometer radius, along with no drinking or high risk activities, in case they had to be rapidly recalled within the hour and shipped off to whatever crisis was happening in the world. For Jäger, the travel and alcohol limitations didn’t matter so much: he could easily spend days in the workshop without seeing the sun.
But without a proper training or work schedule, there was nothing keeping him from becoming overly hyperfixated on whatever he was tinkering or inventing or learning about, and therefore nothing compelled him to take breaks to eat, sleep and shower.
“I’m fine,” Jäger snapped. “Go away.”
Jäger’s hackles were already up, it seemed. He was like the little rooster Fuze’s Babushka kept when he was a child. Whenever one of the children strayed too close, the rooster would immediately square up, ready to fight, even if his perceived rival just wanted to pass out grain to the hens, and when his warning wasn’t heeded, he would chase the offending child around the yard, spurring and pecking.
Jäger must not have eaten the entire day, if not longer, judging by those shakes and such irritability. Fuze should have checked in on him much sooner.
“Mariuska…” Fuze began evenly.
Jäger made an exasperated noise, slamming his screwdriver on the workbench, the heel of his palm making a meaty thwack against the sturdy metal. His other hand was worked up in the messy locks by his ear. “I don’t fucking need food!”
“You need help?”
“No, you’ll fuck it up!”
Fuze’s impassive face never changed expression.
“Why do all of you bother me right when I need to focus? Every single time.”
“I see,” Fuze said flatly.
He turned on his heel and marched out of the shop.
Jäger called after him in an exasperated tone, but Fuze didn’t look back.
~~
Jäger threw his abused screwdriver on the ground, kicking it when it clattered onto his foot. Why couldn’t people just leave him alone when he was working? If he had just left him alone he could have finished this project and no one could have gotten their feelings hurt.
He abandoned the screwdriver to instead grab another one, but that only made him angrier because it wasn’t his fine tipped phillips head that was molded perfectly to his palm. Grumbling the entire time, he felt tempted to smash the whole project. Or stab the next person who interrupted him.
The smell of food caught his attention before Fuze’s returned presence.
“I brought you sausage and potatoes, now stop being cunt, solntse.”
“I…” Jäger’s hostility melted. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be sorry,” Fuze approached with the steaming plate. “Eat.”
Jäger had already wolfed half of the sausages as Fuze had guided him to sit down at one of the benches along the wall.
“I’m sorry,” he said, resting his head on Fuze’s shoulder.
“It is fine, Mariuska,” Fuze said gently, a warm, comfortable tone that was reserved only for him.
“But…”
Fuzed shushed him, placing a sausage between Jäger’s lips to keep him eating. “I know. I know how you are. It is fine.”
The food was delicious. He hadn’t tasted it at first, but now he could see Fuze hadn’t just microwaved a quick meal but whipped up something quickly with love. He felt terrible even as Fuze was unphased, especially after he finished his last bite.
“Hey Shurat?”
“Da?”
“I’m still hungry.”
Fuze smiled, a kind only Jäger had ever seen. He kissed his cheek, “Come, I make you blinis.”