Archive of Our Own

"What about you, captain?" 

"Yeah, c’mon! What's your type?" Piers grinned at the sigh that left Chris at the shouts. It managed to condense the thought "I don't want to answer, but if I don't, they'll just keep pestering" into a single succinct sound. Chris put his head in his hand, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. The rest of Alpha was all laughing, nudging each other around and goading him on. The drinks hadn't been poured lightly, and they were already a few hours into the night. "Maybe we can set you up!"

"I'm good, thanks," Chris muttered. Piers chuckled into his beer bottle. He was leaned back in his chair, happy to observe the others. They hadn't managed to hit him yet with the question of the hour, even though he was just as single as the rest of them. Or, almost as single. Some of them were actively searching for someone, not that they had any luck. It wasn't easy to get something to stick living the way they did. The job always had to come first. 

Chris had been caged in to more or less the center of the table. Andy on one side and Finn on the other. Finn was looking much more comfortable now than when they had first arrived. It was understandable. He had only just been put on Alpha. He had only just run his first real mission with them. He didn’t know any of their personalities. He didn't have a dynamic with the team yet. All he was was the rookie. But the guys had been good to him so far. They had shown him exactly what kind of jackasses they all were. Piers had given Finn a few smiles and nods throughout the night. Knowing if your leaders actually liked you was always the hardest part. They had to be serious, had to be hard on you. It was how they kept you alive. And Piers and Chris did everything they could to keep their boys alive. But Piers didn't want Finn to mistake that as contempt for him. Just tough love. They could laugh and have a beer off the field just fine. Chris had seemed to try and do the same. He talked to Finn easily. There were a few hard pats to the kid’s back, smacking the air out of him but then making him laugh. Piers thought he almost looked shy each time. It wasn't a secret how he had stars in his eyes every time he looked at their captain. Piers fought mocking him for it each time. It would have been hypocritical if he did. 

"Give us something to work with, Redfield." Chris sighed again, shifting his weight in his chair. It was almost comical how big he looked sitting next to Finn. But then, anyone on the team made Finn look like a little boy. Chris stared down at the whiskey glass in his hand, tapped it down against the wooden table. He was thinking. Piers keyed into the distant look in his eyes. The brief hint of something more somber than the air in the bar. Chris licked his teeth behind his lips. 

"Blonde." Ben and Carl both cooed at that, like Chris had said something interesting and not an adjective that could describe probably a forth of the population. Piers didn't let his own hand raise to push through his quiff. His dark blonde that bordered on brown. It had been lighter when he was a kid, practically white in his baby pictures. 

"Give us something else," Andy egged Chris on. He was the one that had started all of this. They had all taken their own shots making fun of him for his desperate bid for a girlfriend. All in good fun. Chris gave him a withering look. His finger tapped the rim of his glass. 

"Smaller than me." 

"Where the fuck are you finding women bigger than you?" Piers was barely a few inches shorter than Chris. If they were facing each other and Piers looked straight ahead, his gaze would land on Chris' nose. And he was almost a hundred pounds lighter. Chris had picked him up before, and rather easily. Piers had slipped off a cliff edge that suddenly crumbled underfoot. He dug his fingers desperately into the dirt before Chris' arms curled under his own. He grunted as he lifted Piers back up, but it was by no means the hardest thing he had ever done. Piers had been pressed to his chest in the moment before he got his feet underneath of him. His knees shook so badly that even when Chris pulled away, he held his Liuetenant by the shoulders. He leaned down to meet his eye as he asked if he was hurt. That rumbling low voice that felt like the warm center of the earth was pulling you in. Piers pulled in gulps of air. Just scared me, sir. 

"And," Chris raised his other hand, making some kind of motion in front of him like he was grabbing onto something, or someone, "tough." Carl whistled. 

"What are you doing to these women, captain?" He asked through a laugh. Finn's smile faltered into a look of concern. 

"Should've figured he doesn't know how to go easy on 'em," Ben muttered to Carl, the both of them snickering. Piers' own expression went sour. Chris shut them down before he could even say a word. 

"You do not lay a hand on a woman. And if I find out any of you ever do..." he didn't need to finish the threat. The two both nodded quickly and shut their mouths. Chris eased back in his chair, letting the hand he had pointed at the two with sit on the table. He took a drink of whiskey. "I want to feel like they're safe. I’ve seen firsthand how fucked up this world can be and I know I cant always be there to save them. I want them to be able to take care of themselves when I can't." Piers knew how much Chris loved his sister. He knew how much he worried about her. Piers also knew how terrifying both Redfields could be. They wouldn't go down without a fight. Chris had raised Claire to be tough, to take care of herself. That must have been his exact reasoning. He felt every one of his losses like it was his own body dying. If he could make sure Claire wasn't one of them, he would do everything in his power to do so. It was the same reason he gave Alpha team tough love. He needed them to be strong so he didn't have to be scared of losing them. Piers needed to be strong so he could help Chris carry his burdens. So he didn't have to be scared. 

Chris had called him tough before. It was part of the job description. Soldiers had to be tough. People that looked at the horrors man made everyday just to hurt eachother needed to be tough. Stronger than steel. But to hear it from Chris himself, it was different. Piers had been under cover, laid down in greenery so that he could watch what was happening through his scope. He had to call clear before the rest of the team could move in. He had been muttering to Chris through the comms when he got ambushed. Two wild dogs lost to infection. Chris shouted for him in the earpiece as he fought them off. Kicked off the dog trying to rip open his neck and then punched the one ripping at his arm. He didn't register hearing Chris trying to send him backup as he pulled his field knife. Blood poured down his arm as he slashed at a pouncing dog. He cut open the monster’s cheeks, widened its slobbering maw. He watched the jaw hang limply before the other dog moved. Back at his arm again. Teeth sank down through muscle, nearly to bone. Piers stabbed it in the throat while it was locked onto him. He was sprayed in blood, and the dog kicked and thrashed, but it went down. Piers wrenched his arm free and shot the other hound with the pistol he hadn't had time to grab with both of them on him. It ate up three bullets before it too fell into the greenery. Piers panted as he rolled back over to check his scope. 

"All clear captain. Move in."

Chris had been on him the instant he and the others got back to the rendezvous point. Piers was panting, sagging where he stood with his bandaged arm resting on his rifle, but he was alive. He had covered the rest of Alpha through the windows of the building as they moved in and cleared out the place, and when they were clear, he rolled onto his back and began to bandage his own arm. His field dressing wasn't the best, but anything was better than bleeding out alone in the tree line. He could get better care once he made it back to the point. Chris took one look at his arm and his face paled. 

"How bad is it?"

"Tore through a couple muscles. Probably ripped some flesh off. But I'm alive and they're not." Piers didn't say it to brag. He was lucky. If it went any other way, he probably wouldn't be. He was lucky to just get mauled. 

"And you still covered us." Chris' jaw was tight. He wasn't angry. His eyes were focused on that arm. 

"Yes sir." The team needed cover, so he was that cover. The wound could wait. He survived. Chris nodded, seemingly to himself. When his eyes met Piers', he couldn't look away. 

"They made you out of tough shit." A touch of light shone in his eyes. There was a phantom of a smile that ghosted the corners of his lips. "Didn't they, Lieutenant? Come on." He took Piers by the nape and led him in the direction of the medical tent. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"He's a teddy bear deep down," Piers finally spoke up. He didn't look up at Chris as he did. He wasn't sure what reaction he would be met with if he did. His eyes stayed fixed on Chris' hands. Chris' finger stopped tapping the rim of his glass, going still. Piers could feel his stare, but he took the last drink from his beer bottle so he wouldn't have to meet it.  

"He's just a big ol' softie under all that muscle." Andy nudged Chris with his elbow. 

"Alright, enough," Chris muttered. Piers finally looked up as Chris took a drink. He almost looked... shy.  

"Do you take care of everybody?" Finn finally spoke up. He didn't have the same mocking tilt to his words. He would never tease Chris, equally because of idolization and fear of him. He awkwardly rubbed the bottle in his hands with his thumbs. Nervous energy that Piers immediately locked in on. 

"What I've always done." There was no malice to it. It was a fact of life to Chris. He was put on Earth to help people, to take care of others. He didn’t resent it as his place in life. 

"You're lucky to get put on a team with him." 

"Nothing's getting to you when you got Redfield in front of you." Chris just shook his head. Piers smiled at him and met his eye.

"Wouldn't be here if it weren't for him." The look they shared was knowing. In so many ways, Piers only had the life he had now because of Chris. "Only reason I joined the BSAA was because of him." 

"Really?" Piers nodded, remembering the day he had first met Chris. 

"He’s the one that recruited me. Personally came to my base."

"I knew you had what it takes. Just wanted to talk to you myself." There was an odd sense of shyness to him, trying to downplay the exchange in front of the others. 

"Only the best for Alpha's team," Carl snickered. Best captain, best sniper, best team. 

"What was it like?" Finn inched forward in his chair. He hadn't been recruited in the same way. He had joined the BSAA on his own volition. Being placed on Chris' team wasn't as straight a path for him as it had been for Piers. 

"Nivans." Piers stood up without a thought at the voice, cards still pinched between his fingers. Mark, the man sitting on the cot beside him, looked up at their lieutenant with him. 

"Sir." 

"Someone here to see you." Their lieutenant turned and left the med tent while Mark was still cooing like Piers had just gotten called down to the principal’s office. Piers threw his hand at him in retaliation as he moved around the cot to follow after. Mark only laughed and wished him luck. He couldn't deny the words immediately caused some anxiety. No one had any reason to visit him on base. He had kept his head down and his parents were in another country all together. Not that they would come to base in the first place. He followed his lieutenant to the communications tent, glancing at every person he spotted on the way there. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was just another day. 

When he stepped through the flap of the tent held open for him, he could immediately spot what was out of place. He knew his squad members. Even if he didn't have a personal relationship with everyone, he could recognize them as part of his unit. Off to the side of the room was a man Piers did not recognize. Taller than him and built like he was made to punch the stars out of the sky. Jesus, his bicep was probably bigger than two of Piers’s put together. He was talking to sergeant Roberts, turned so Piers could only see him from the side. Piers followed his lieutenant in a kind of daze towards the stranger. 

"Sir." The stranger turned to face them. There was a softness to his face that betrayed the hard look of the rest of him. He was immediately offering a hand to Piers. 

"Piers Nivans?" Piers nodded and shook his hand firmly. He didn't recognize the uniform he was wearing. Whatever it was, it wasn't military. 

"Yes sir." The stranger's handshake was just as unexpectedly kind. Whoever he was, he had an exceptional control of his own strength. Or all the bulk was for show. A way to intimidate anyone who tried to take him on one-on-one. He smiled at Piers, utterly boy-next-door. His thumbs hooked around his vest when they let go of each other's hands.

"Chris Redfield. BSAA." Piers brows raised. That he did recognize. It was hard to not be familiar with the BSAA without living under a rock. It was actually a small miracle Piers and his unit had never crossed paths with them. This was the first time he was meeting one of their soldiers in person. "You're familiar with it?" Piers schooled his expression before he nodded. 

"The bioterrorism group."

"Bioterrorism security assessment alliance," Chris clarified. "I was hoping I could talk to you." Piers glanced at his lieutenant and sergeant Roberts. They both inclined their heads to him. They didn't seem to have any qualms about Chris being there. Piers looked back to him. 

"Alright." Chis gestured with his head to another flap in the tent, one that led out to the back where their vehicles were all parked. "Should only be a minute." The other two men stepped away so that Piers could follow Chris as he started to walk away. Piers could feel eyes on him as he followed. 

Chris was wearing a heavy vest, but the only gun Piers saw on him was a pistol on his hip. There was a combat knife strapped to his other leg, but that was all. Wherever he had come from, it hadn't been a big fight. Piers couldn't think why the BSAA might send someone to talk with him specifically. The unit as a whole? Sure. They took soldiers from every branch into their fold. But Chris had come to talk to him in particular. Piers' eyes fell to Chris’ belt as he thought. Jesus, he had an ass too. Were all their guys like this? Or were they feeding him something special? Chris stopped when they were outside, turning to face him again. The dry wind lifted up what little hair he had on his forehead. Piers fell into position.

"Sorry if this threw you off. Thought it would be better to talk without your superiors breathing down your neck." His tone was light, trying to joke with Piers. Piers still couldn't piece together how his face could look so boy-next-door when he was smiling. 

"No problem." Chris cleared his throat, fixing his own posture. 

"Are you familiar with what we do?"

"Not very, sir." Their name popped up in most news stories these days. They seemed to be everywhere, showing up at nearly every global conflict to "stop bioterrorism." Piers had seen old recordings from Raccoon City, from South America, from Terragrigia, from West Africa. They were just as prevalent as Terra Save or the Red Cross. 

"We watch for signs of bioterrorism around the globe. Monsters used as weapons in wars, illegal underground labs, contamination leaks. When something like that happens, we're the first ones on the ground. Without the BSAA, things would have gotten a lot worse a long time ago." Chris cleared his throat, shifted on his feet. He didn't seem... comfortable giving the pitch. He was a soldier, not a salesman, Piers figured. "You get the idea." 

"Yes sir." There had been more than a dozen small outbreaks since Racoon city. How any of them were still there to keep living was a miracle. Chris nodded. A determined shine returned to his eyes. They were a blue grey, the color bright and clear as they stood in the unrelenting sun. 

"We’re always looking for new agents. People with the skills and desire to help people who cant help themselves." And Piers quickly understood the pitch. He understood why Chris was speaking to him out of everyone on base. Part of him felt like he had been caught for saying something he shouldn't have. "It’s hard work, but you see in real time the good you're doing when the job is done." Chris' voice was low, intimate. It made it feel like he saw Piers as the only man in the world at that moment. Piers almost shied away from it. The gentle intensity of the man. But he also wanted to lean into it. Despite the fact they had never met, it felt like Chris had looked into his soul. Right at that piece that felt lost. "I’ve seen your records, soldier. I know you have the skills." Piers swallowed. He knew his records were accessible to anyone with enough clearance, but he still felt exposed. He had never met this man, yet he seemed to know everything about Piers. Chris smiled again, briefly. "So clean I thought it was a fake at first."

"Thank you, sir," was all Piers could say. If there was any pink to his cheeks, it was just from the heat of the sun. Chris crossed his arms over his chest. Good god. 

"I’m just here to see if you have the heart." Piers almost laughed in response. He only held it back when he saw that Chris was being sincere. His heart was the deciding factor? To get recruited into a paramilitary? Whoever had sent Chris clearly told him to lay it on thick. 

"My heart, sir?" 

"I spoke with your sergeant and Lieutenant when I arrived. When I told them I was looking to talk to you, they asked me if I was sure." Any amusement Piers felt immediately washed away. A cold wave fell over him at the words. He didn't think he had made his own doubts that obvious. He didn't think anyone was paying attention. "They said you've been struggle with your purpose here. That you're fixed on doing something." Chris raised one of his hands, doing air quotes with his fingers. "He’s a good shot, but he wants to be a hero. Not a soldier." Piers clenched his jaw hard enough he was surprised he didnt tear a muscle. He didn't want to be a hero. He wanted to help people. Heroes weren't real. They were characters made up for stories to teach people lessons. People were the ones that helped people in the real world. Chris returned his hand to his folded arms. "You want to help people, Nivans?" Piers nodded once, sharp. 

"Yes sir." Chris nodded in return. 

"So do I." He slipped his finger into a pocket on the front of his vest. He pulled a card out from inside, offering it to Piers. "I think you'd be a good fit, but I don't want to force you to make a decision now." His name was written on the card, along with several ways to reach him. Captain Chris Redfield. Not just some recruiter. Piers swallowed as he stared down at the utilitarian font. "Let me know what you decide." 

"I’ll do it." Piers was only half aware he said anything at all. It fell out of his lips like if he had waited a second longer he might have exploded. Chris raised his eyebrows. 

"You don't have to make a decision now, soldier." 

"I’ll do it," Piers repeated, firmer this time. He held the card back out to Chris. Chris' gaze flicked between it and his face. He slowly reached out to take it back. Like he was waiting for the got’cha. 

"You're sure?"

"When do I start?" If he thought about it, he would back down. If he thought about his father, and his grandfather, and his great-grandfather and their time serving, he would back down. He had pushed down that feeling that he wasn't doing enough, told himself it would pass. But it didnt. It kept growing and growing and gnawing at the back of his brain between every shot he took. What was the point of any of them? Why was he doing this? And now here was this Captain Redfield. Telling him there was a way to make it matter. Saying all he wanted to do was help people, just like Piers. He was giving Piers a path to what he needed. And Piers needed to take it. He had to say yes before he could doubt himself. 

"I’ll talk to your superiors, see if you can come back with me. Then we'll get you in training. It's six months if everything goes smoothly." 

"Yes sir." Chris was trying to say it as a warning. Maybe such a long commitment would make Piers come to his senses and stop being so rash. But six months was a drop in the bucket if Piers could find what he was looking for. Chris stared at him for a long moment, took in the soldier standing in front of him. Piers didn't flinch at the scrutiny. He had already committed. 

"It's Chris from here on out, Nivans." 

"He came to my base personally. Talked to my sergeant and lieutenant before he even talked to me about joining." Piers smirked at Chris, but Chris just smiled right back from across the table. A spark of challenge lit between them. 

"Had to make sure you were as good as the papers made you look."

"You said you knew I had the skills. You just needed to make sure I had the heart." Piers smacked a fist to his chest, emphasizing the word. The others snickered around them. 

"You almost laughed in my face." Piers hid the surprise he felt that Chris had noticed. He knew how Piers really felt and just said nothing? 

"It sounded like whoever sent you told you to pull out every stop to get me to say yes." 

"I just told you what I thought would get through to you." Chris leaned forward, grabbing the whiskey bottle from the middle of the table. He tapped it against Piers' beer before he sat back. "And I'd say I did a pretty good job." He poured himself a new glass as the others cooed at the slick comeback. 

"You must have been a real easy sell, lieutenant," Carl smacked Piers arm playfully. "Remind me to never take you to Vegas." 

"He just talked to you? Just like that?" Finn had a befuddled look on his face. It couldn't be that easy. The Chris Redfield just doesn't show up at your base in the middle of the fucking desert and say he wants you. That was ridiculous. Chris shook his head as he capped the whiskey and set it down. 

"I just know what guys like him need to hear." Chris leaned on his elbow as he held up his glass. Piers felt pinned by his gaze, just like he did back then. Like he was the only man Chris thought was worth seeing. "People like us just want to be able to help." Piers swallowed as he watched Chris take a drink. Something in his chest felt shaken. Off center. His palm felt sweaty on the beer bottle. 

"You see a little of you in him?" Andy leaned in to Chris like they were conspiring, but he didn't lower his volume at all. They both stared at Piers, almost appraising him. Chris hesitated. Waited just a beat too long for it to be mundane. He dropped his gaze from Piers as he shrugged. 

"I see me in all of you. For better or for worse." 

"He’s talking about you," Ben muttered as he smacked Carl's side. Carl shoved him out of his chair and made the whole group chuckle. Ben huffed as he climbed back into his seat. He smacked Carl's beer over, letting it pour onto his lap. Carl swore as he fumbled to set it back upright. 

"Son of a bitch!"

"Enough," Chris wearily warned while making no move to stop them. Piers silently handed over napkins. He definitely looked like he had pissed his pants. Carl huffed as he vainly tried to dry himself off. 

"What about Piers then?" 

"What about him?" Ben was still smirking, watching Carl struggle with glee. 

"What are you into, lieutenant?" Carl slapped the soiled napkins on the table with annoyance. They didn't do much to save him. 

"You have been awfully quiet so far," Andy agreed, apparently just coming to that realization. He leaned back in his chair, studying Piers. Chris took another drink. 

"I’m not letting you set me up." The last thing he wanted was to trust any of the team with such a decision. Even Chris he feared what he'd pick. 

"Come on." Andy spread out his arms and nearly smacked a passing server. "The rest of us answered. Nothing can be more embarrassing than Rookie." 

"Hey!" Andy waved Finn off, ignoring his glare. 

"Let me find you a girl." Piers scowled.

"No."

"Let me find you a guy." The horror that went through him at the very idea of trusting anyone on the team to not just pick the first gay guy they could think of was all consuming. Chris stared down at the tabletop, obviously checked out of the conversation now. 

"Absolutely not."

"I wouldn't let you set me up either," Finn grumbled, surely an attempt to get back at Andy. Andy just laughed.

"Seriously, Lieutenant. Just give us something. Doesn't even have to be true." Piers sighed, rubbing his face with both hands as he leaned back in his chair. They weren't going to let him live without an answer. He huffed as he folded his arms. He kept his gaze on the ceiling. 

"Men or women?" 

"Oh shit, he wasn't joking?" Carl smacked Ben for the small comment. His eyes were wide looking at Piers before he glared at Carl. 

"You have one for each?" Andy raised a brow. "Greedy bitch. Hey!" Chris had smacked him like he was speaking out of turn. His expression was strangely cold. 

"What makes a girl hot is way different from what makes a guy hot," Finn reasoned. Piers toasted to the rookie without looking. 

"Thank you." 

"How about guys then? Are they anything like these bozos?" Carl pointed at all the men stepped the table. There was the light sound of amused disagreement, but Piers could feel the tension in it. Men got deeply uncomfortable when they thought they were in the menu. 

"God no." The lot of them were as straight as they came, and not particularly attractive regardless. Plus, he couldn't be with any of them knowing even half the shit they said and did and admitted to shamelessly. The only ones he could exclude would be Chris and Finn. But Finn felt too... soft. His edges were still too round for Piers. 

"I'd rather they be a soldier too, or something like that. I don't want to make a civvie put up with," he waved a hand in the air around them, "all of this."

"No surprise there." Piers thought about his boyfriends before. It wasn't like he had a plethora to choose from. Just three, and one of those he was only seventeen. Any flings weren't much help. Beggars couldn't be choosers in the army. There were only really two types in the military. 

"It’d be nice if he was actually gay. Not just stuck out in the desert for a year with the guys in his unit." 

"Someone's gotten burned before." Piers cracked his neck slowly as he considered it. 

Strong? All of them had been relatively strong guys. Decent definition to their arms and chests. Nothing like Chris, obviously. They were closer to Piers and Finn than their captain. But Piers had liked it. He liked helping his first boyfriend work on his car, watching his arms work as he tightened bolts and such. Tall? Guys shorter than him tended to have a complex about it, like it was something that they had any control over whatsoever. But he didn't like the idea of having to crane his neck just to kiss someone. Just a few inches would be fine. Like Chris. Passionate. They had to have goals, something they were working towards, or something they were obsessed with. His first had been a complete gear head. He spent more time in his garage than with his family. Piers met the last boyfriend he had at the gun range and they bonded over their qualms with certain rifle models. The second, as short as that time had been, was a doctor. They had split up when he had joined up with Doctors Without Borders and got shipped off to Somalia. Piers had bit down his own disappointment then. He would be a hypocrite if he had stopped him from going. They both wanted to be able to help people. Piers was sure he would have understood if they were still together when Chris made his pitch. That was his way of helping people, just like MSF was his boyfriend’s. Chris had sold Piers so easily because he had that same desire to help. Hell, he was a founding member of the organization as a whole. He had outright admitted taking care of people was who he was just minutes ago. Chris was only as good as his ability to be there for others. 

Piers frowned. Maybe he should just stick to the physical. Surface level things. The rest of them didnt go much further than the physicality of their ideal women. Chris had been the one to focus on their toughness. Piers was a sucker for a set of pretty eyes. He had held back comments about how pretty his first boyfriend's eyes were when they got caught in the sunlight. A warm, almost orange, brown. The last one had clear grey, almost the same color as the barrel of his revolver. Piers had found it fascinating he couldn't even see a hint of blue to the color, not like Chris' own blue-grey. If the second was gunmetal, then Chris was a cloudy sky. The sun valiantly trying to peak through. 

Rugged. Piers liked them to look manly. He liked the scratch of stubble or a beard against his skin during a kiss. He was a little envious of his second boyfriend for the healthy swath of hair painted across his chest, leading down to his groin. It gave him such a masculine figure when Piers worked his clothes off of him. Chris was covered in dark hair. Sometimes it looked like he was still wearing a shirt when Piers caught a glance of him in the showers. 

A sweet smile. A guy giving him the right smile could make his stomach twist in bashful joy. A happy look that would be shared just between the two of them, a knowing smirk, a soft, quiet look that was paired with comforting reassurances. Piers liked it when it felt like he had earned that display of sweetness. When they smiled, he knew it was for him. They weren't looking at a single other person. Like Piers was the only man in the world. Standing outside in the blaring sun with a man he had never met just a few inches away. Getting dragged by the nape to the med tent.

"You still with us, Piers?" Piers jumped at the call, so lost in his thoughts that the noise of the bar had faded away. The others were all looking at him expectantly. Save for Chris, who was staring down at his glass again. Piers’ mouth suddenly felt dry. 

"Yeah. Yeah, sorry." Andy chuckled around the lip of his own glass. 

"Didn't think it was that much of a brain teaser." Piers shook his head, sitting up properly in his seat. 

"Just a little drunk. It's fine." He cleared his throat. He felt heat creeping up his neck. "Big guys with pretty eyes, I guess." 

"Are you embarrassed, LT?" Ben's voice went high, clearly ready to start teasing the ever living fuck out of him. "You look a little red." 

"Fuck off, Airhart." They laughed at the retort, an obvious admission of guilt. Piers bit his tongue as he looked across the table at Chris. He was rubbing his thumbs over the rim of the glass again. Looking solemn as he leaned on his elbows. But Piers had seen him smile. He had just been smirking at Piers as they remembered that first introduction. A look just for Piers. Piers gulped. 

He was in love with his fucking Captain.