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They breathed through their mouths in deep pants, heavy limbs being dragged down by gravity and it’s not even because of the busted armor and weapons that were strapped to their bodies.
For once, they could actually let themselves drop to the harsh pavement like ragdolls. They’ve been traveling and escaping and surviving for weeks, not only sacrificing sleep and rations of food, but they also carry the weight of their fallen commander.
They haven’t had the time to properly acknowledge it, only the deafening silences would count as their way of mourning… It just happened so fast. One second, they could still hear Commander Phil in comms, giving them strict directions to an air drop since they were running out of both bullets and supplies—then there were gunshots and yelling in the next, followed by static.
It’s difficult to gauge what exactly happened, especially when they are forced to leave their fellow soldier behind if they want to survive.
And amongst the thirty five that were left, survival was all they had.
But now, the hectic speed of how the world twisted and turned came to dial back and halt, giving them a chance to breathe and appreciate the fact that their hearts were still somehow beating. Tubbo can actually feel the dancing flames of the small campfire his companion had set up as they camp out on this rundown rooftop of a two-storey establishment, accompanied by buzzing cicadas from nearby trees.
“This should keep us warm for the night.” affirmed Private Tommy, proceeding to open a can of beans using the blunt tip of his hunting knife.
It’s almost surreal to the higher ranked how they’ve survived this long together, given that they were both fairly new in the field. It was as if God was toying with them; take their own who had years of experience and let the newcomers on their first mission live. Come and watch how it plays out.
To Tubbo, if God was real, then He surely isn’t benign to let this all happen.
Tommy cheering to himself at successfully popping off the lid of the can is what successfully pulls him out of his miserable thoughts. The blond looked over to him with his big blue eyes, something about them implored his chest to convulse, easily forgetting God and forsaking Him. Fuck that.
It’s the little things that matter, that give him more reason to live.
It’s Tommy’s expressive eyes squinted in darkness. It’s those damning frostbitten lips that taunt him every time his gaze just slightly drops lower. It’s the long expanse of his bare neck that makes his mouth salivate and water. It’s his porcelain skin marred with scars and history, currently bathed in tangerine flames of the fire. It’s all about Tommy, Tommy, Tommy…
He lives and breathes for him.
“Tubbo?” His soft tone makes him shudder.
“Yeah?” He matches his voice.
“I’m gonna end up eating your portion, mate. You’re all zoned out. What’s got you wrinkling your forehead, Corporal?” Tommy asks, all clueless and beautiful.
Fuck.
They’re in the middle of having to kill or be killed, it isn’t the time to shamelessly admire the lower ranked just because they could both breathe a little.
But he can’t help it. Tommy doesn’t realize that his magnetic pull is way too strong and easy to gravitate towards. From the moment the blond smiled at him for the first time, he knew his fate was sealed to drastically fall in love with him.
“Tubbo…? You’re worrying me.” The Private lets out a nervous laugh.
And the ever growing lump in his throat filled with emotion is ready to pop, Tommy’s expectant look could be his undoing. Because when would they get the chance to sit down like this and actually talk? When it’s too late? When they’re both out of reach?
Rejection is not what Tubbo feared the most.
Death is.
And so, he only feels partially insecure as he stood up to take a seat right next to his companion, legs sprawled on the ground and his back leaning against the brick wall.
He looks at him in the eyes to blurt out, “If tonight’s our last moment together, I just want to let you know that I love you. I love you. And, I love you….” He watches as Tommy gapes at him, rightfully too stunned and at a loss for words.
So, he continues.
“I know our odds are about as nonexistent as our Commander’s, I’m only ever alive because of you. We’ve survived this long because you’ve always had my back.” His gaze dropped guiltily at the bullet wound by Tommy’s patched abdomen. “How’s your wound?”
He flinches at the warm hand suddenly grasping his own and he looks up, swallowed by the equally warm gaze peering back at him as Tommy gives him a reassuring squeeze.
“Don’t look so downtrodden and blue, Tubbo. I can manage,” Tommy painfully grunted as he adjusted to sit up more properly. “You would have done the same.” The Private cleverly countered.
Because yes, he would take a bullet for him too. But that doesn’t make the worry go away. They didn’t have much time to properly take good care of his injury, it looks really bad.
“I need to see it. I have to make sure the stitches hold up.”
“I’m fine, Tubbo.”
“This is not a request, Private.” He asserted like the Corporal officer that he is.
Well, Tommy couldn’t argue with authority. That’s one thing he can’t go against despite Tubbo already abandoning all ethics and codes of a soldier by confessing to the lower ranked. Fuck it. Dead or alive, he is willing to lose all his stars and stripes, if it means he’ll have Tommy by his side.
He has never known true desire until he’s staring right back at him.
Tommy eventually gives in with a dejected sigh, pulling up his shirt to expose the really poor job that he did at patching up his wound in panic.
“I have to clean it up and fix the stitches.” No wonder his Private is losing his color. Blood is still spilling out of him and he has to work fast.
Tubbo doesn’t waste any more time. He works with utmost efficiency on the stitches. Calm despite his personal worries.
It doesn’t really take him that long to finish up either, changing his bloody bandages with clean ones. Tommy only winces quietly, slamming his eyes shut at the painful sting of the gauze, wet with alcohol. But after that, the blond is calm and he is only cleaning up the surrounding areas with wet cotton balls, making Tommy’s stomach visibly jump.
Tubbo looked up, only to find Tommy’s face rearing so close that he could feel his warm breath ghosting his lips.
A deep blush creeps up on his face, down to his neck and collar.
He doesn’t pull away, fixing on Tommy’s lips as he subconsciously licks his own.
“Your fingers are cold.” Tommy whispered in a raggedy, ruined voice.
His breath only stutters in anticipation, snapping his gaze back up to his eyes for only a brief moment. “Sorry…” Then it settles back to the same destination as before, his entire being burning with desire. “May I?”
“Please…” Tommy breathed his own passion into life, closing the distance between them.
As soon as their lips met – both groaning in unison – they kissed like it’s the end of the world. Because they acknowledge that it could be for either one of them or both. There’s never been an illusion that they’d be safe and somehow be an exception to death.
They know it and reality is painful.
Their hands grab hold for leverage, trying to distinguish the realness of this moment. Fingers tangled in disheveled hair, tugging, pulling, moaning in response. Tentative palms slide over Tubbo’s waist, his hip, just begging to be bruised in a vice-like grip. They roamed each other’s skins just as tears spring from their eyes. From relief, sadness, anger…
The universe was cruel for making them meet like this. Why can’t they meet as childhood friends who grow up to be high school sweethearts? Why can’t they meet at a cafe as a customer and a barista? At a bar? At the park? Anywhere but here!
Tubbo yanks themselves apart with a resounding smack of their lips, mouths still slotted together like missing puzzle pieces, gasping for air and bawling his shaking fists into Tommy’s jacket.
They’re right here, sealing their love on an abandoned rooftop with barely any food in their stomachs and any strength left to fight in their bones.
They were hopeless.
But they were hopeless together.
… Maybe those normal versions of themselves already exist.
Maybe it’s just their world that was cruel—building child soldiers for war and destruction.
They both part with a savage look to them. Even the way they kiss is violent and devastating. Their love is meant to thrive this way.
“I’ve been dying for you to do that.” Tommy desperately lets out.
Tubbo laughs tearfully, wrapping his arms around his neck to unceremoniously place himself on the blond’s lap, carefully avoiding his freshly treated wound.
“Don’t jinx it, Private. I still need you alive.”
He feels a hand on the back of his neck, rubbing his overgrown hair lovingly. Tommy’s eyes are soft despite the dried up blood that isn’t his, smeared on the side of his cheek.
“Wanna know what I want to do when we get outta here together, Corporal?”
Wishful thinking. They both need it at the moment.
“What?”
“I wanna take you out on a date. A proper one with fancy candles and expensive steak.” Instead of what they were having now—expired cans of beans and water from the river upstream.
Tubbo’s stomach grumbled at the mention of steak. Fuck… How long has it been since he ate actual food that isn’t straight from a can?
“Yeah? That sounds lovely.” He commented instead.
They can’t promise anything. It would be cruel to be optimistic at a time like this. But it was nice to daydream and imagine themselves wearing tailor fitted suits instead of battered combat clothes with dried up blood, sweat and tears on them. It was nice way to make the most of this unpredictable evening.
Out of nowhere, Tommy cups his cheek to face him, eyes already on his bitten lips.
“Corporal, permission to request for another kiss.”
The higher ranked grinned, supporting himself on his knees to tower over him for once. Who is he to say no to that when his Private asked so nicely?
“Permission granted.” He breathed into Tommy’s wet lips, meeting him for a second time while the fire continued burning and the night consumed them.