Chapter Text
The stale scent of slightly singed fur. Dust kicked up by the friction between opposing sides on the battlefield. A familiar yet fearsome snarl formed on the lips of a treasured comrade. These were all stipulations of the battlefield, detailed in not-so-fine print on every contract of war. A perilous beast to the unacquainted, but upon soaking in its cruel familiarity, they knew it as just another way of life.
“They” referred to the rebellion. Inspired by Hanunue, now led by both him and Mikhail. The rebellion, too, contained its own set of stipulations. Courage, bravery, and the most vexatious of all, having to conceal one’s own feelings. The hounds expression twisted in that of pain, staggering backwards as the IPC soldiers he was dueling fell to the ground. They were on the edge of victory, Mikhail could feel it. Victory became but a soaring fist in an all out brawl once Mikhail noticed Hanunue, clutching his injured arm. Mikhail gave the order for his comrades to proceed, assuring them this battle would soon draw to an end. Of course, the only thing Mikhail was truly concerned about right now was Hanunue. His brother in arms. Hanunue, however, was already rushing head first into battle. Mikhail couldn’t help but smirk. “Typical…” He mumbled to himself, before running after him.
He caught up, grabbing his paw. The hound let out a nettled grunt, but stopped dead in his tracks. He looked down at a concerned Mikhail from the corner of his eye. Mikhail traced his fingers up Hanunue’s arm. Hanunue let out a gruff grunt, sucking air in through his canine teeth in pain. Mikhail noticed, quickly jerking his hand back, peering closer at the wound. A rather gnarly scrape, but nothing major. He chuckled softly at the torn fabric of the suit around the wound. “My, you can never seem to wear the correct attire for these sorts of situations, huh?” Mikhail teased.
Hanunue shrugged, looking off into the distance at the ensuing skirmish. Which, matter of fact, they were indeed winning. “Tailor made, too. And your measurements are far from average..” Mikhail had begun mumbling to himself at this point. Hanunue took the opportunity to slip away, eagerly joining his allies in these final crucial moments. Tiernan, the rebellion’s highly esteemed general, often said that the most important blows are dealt in the last couple seconds of a fight. Mikhail wasted no time, following Hanunue, who carried his rocket launcher with an inspiring vigor. He couldn’t help but notice just how… admirable he looked in that moment.
Lights of the residential area shone down upon his muscular arms, built to lug around his signature weapon. A limping IPC mech shook the ground with each heavy steel foot. Hanunue stood steady and tall. Mikhail watched as Hanunue aimed his rocket launcher directly at the metallic warrior. He was a couple feet away, but Mikhail could’ve sworn he heard a very cool grunt. After that, a flash of bright light simmered into orange flames. The familiar smell of gunpowder settled like ash. The sound of metal collapsing and the IPC sounding their sirens of retreat. As the dust settled…there Hanunue was, standing proud. He looked over his shoulder at Mikhail with a smirk. The hoots and hollers of celebrating friends filled his ears as Hanunue tipped his hat off to him.
An hour later the battlefield finally cleared. Hanunue and Mikhail made their way back to their shared bedroom, deciding to change their attire and cleanse themselves of the blood and soot staining their clothes. Mikhail flopped back onto the bed, letting out a relieved sigh as he gazed up at the ceiling. Hanunue grunted disapprovingly. “Right, right, I’ll get dirt all over the sheets.” Mikhail said, getting up. Hanunue was busy removing his suit jacket, a white dress shirt beneath.
It was stained with blood. Mikhail already knew of the wound on Hanunue’s arm, but there ripples of blood in the fabric could also be found near his chest. He quickly approached him, a concerned expression painting his face. “Let me take a look.” Hanunue grunted at first, but soon let up. Mikhail unbuttoned his shirt slowly, carefully peeling back the fabric, sticking to the wound. Hanunue whimpered softly in pain, which was rather unlike him. Mikhail cleared his throat as he caught his mind drifting. He examined the wound. Most definitely a gash, but not too deep. He could take care of it with some cooperation from the canine. Mikhail nodded to himself in determination, grabbing Hanunue’s paw and leading him to the bathroom.
He swung open a dusty cabinet, inside were all the medical tools one could need for some hasty first aid. This wasn’t their first rodeo, nor would it be their last. Mikhail dragged over a stool, motioning for Hanunue to have a seat. He did so, the wooden object creaking under his weight. Mikhail chuckled softly, Hanunue grunting. He approached him from behind, delicately removing Hanunue’s bloodied shirt. He winced once again as the fabric grazed his still fresh wounds. Hanunue’s ears were flattened back in displeasure. He gestured for the wolf to lift his injured arm, and he did so. “It’ll sting a little. I’d think you’d be used to it by now, and yet you complain every time.” Mikhail teased with a smile on his face. Hanunue maintained his usual cold demeanor, but Mikhail could tell he was bracing himself.
Mikhail took a rag, applying a bit of disinfectant to it. The smell was sharp, and pungent. Well, you aren’t exactly supposed to sniff it. “Deep breath.” Mikhail spoke softly, before firmly pressing the soaked cloth against tender wound. The blood almost fizzed, the interaction between the two resulting in small foamy clusters of bubbles. Hanunue harshly sucked air in through his teeth, jerking away instinctively. Mikhail placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, reassuring him. “I find it rather humorous a guy as cool as yourself is so weak to… this, of all things.” Hanunue grunted with a slight humility. Mikhail removed the cloth, grabbing a thick wad of gauze and holding it against the wound. With his free hand, he grabbed a roll of bandage wrap. He wrapped it around his scraped bicep with a quickness, to ensure that it wouldn’t come loose any time soon. “Tight enough for you?” Mikhail asked. Hanunue grunted. Mikhail laughed. “You dirty dog…” He tore the wrap from the roll with his teeth, pressing it firmly one last time in order for the adhesive to properly stick.
“Alright, one last time, Hanu.” He grunted in annoyance. “I know, I know.” Mikhail rinsed the rag in the sink, wringing it out. More disinfectant and one firm press later, a very peeved Hanunue now had a clean chest wound. “You narrowly avoided a very deep gash with this one. I wish you’d be more careful sometimes. I- Penacony needs you.” He mumbled. Hanunue didn’t respond. Mikhail leaned over a sitting Hanunue’s shoulder for a better view. He pressed the gauze against the wound. He could feel his hot breath on his neck. Reaching for more bandage wrap, he could hear Hanunue… sniffing him?
Mikhail smirked. “What, do I smell bad?” He began wrapping the bandage around his lower chest. Hanunue let out a grunt of approval, smirking. “Right back at you, my cheeky partner.” Mikhail chuckled softly as he finished applying the bandaging. He took a moment to gaze into the mirror the two were in front of. Mikhail took a moment, tracing his fingers along Hanunue’s torso, savoring the softness of his fur. This was much to the hounds dismay. “Even under all those tufts your muscle is apparent. Something good does come from those battles. Besides victory, of course.” Hanunue rolled his eyes.
Mikhail turned away from him to return the medical supplies to their rightful home, that dusty cabinet. “Care to wash up? I’ll find you something to wear for tonight’s victory gathering.” Hanunue didn’t respond. “Unfortunately, you reek, and don’t have much choice in the matt-“ He was already getting undressed. Mikhail covered his eyes, red spreading to his face. “Hanu, what did we agree upon?” Mikhail asked as he exited the bathroom. The question was rhetorical. Hanunue grunted indifferently, for he cared not. Mikhail shut the door behind him, the sound of rushing water soon following. He chuckled to himself as he rustled through drawers of clothes. “That guy…” Mikhail couldn’t help but smile fondly.
A couple minutes passed before the bathroom door swung open. “Your clothes are on the bed. I already know you aren’t too fond of wearing a towel, so don’t expect me to turn around.” Mikhail said, putting his hands on his hips. However, he too, required a shower.
“Go on. Walk backwards into the bathroom. Floor is wet, too.” Hanunue spoke in his deep, somewhat raspy voice. Mikhail was surprised. “You choose to open your maw at the oddest of times. As for your request, just watch me!” Mikhail spoke confidently. He slowly and carefully stepped backwards. Hanunue just watched, thoroughly entertained. Mikhail was yet again surprised by soaring droplets of water attacking him. “Do you have to shake yourself dry?” Mikhail asked, slightly annoyed.
Hanunue just let out a satisfied grunt. Mikhail knew he was in the home stretch as he felt the hardwood floor switch to bathroom tiles. A very well known fact, however, is just how slippery bathroom tiles truly are. Mikhail lost his balance, soaring backwards. A big, damp paw caught him. Hanunue looked down at him as he lifted him up. Mikhail felt his face get hot. He cleared his throat. “Thank you, Hanu. Please get dressed.” Hanunue crossed his arms with a grunt as Mikhail closed the bathroom door.
An hour later, the two found themselves at a bar. Not just any bar, of course. It was the same old tavern they’d always meet at after another successful bout. Mikhail spotted Tiernan who waved at the pair. He grabbed Hanunue’s paw and dragged him over. “If it isn’t our two most valuable fighters!” Tiernan greeted them happily. A bottle of SoulGlad was in his hand, beads of condensation rolling down indentations of the amber bottle. “Oh, Tiernan, it’s all a team effort. We couldn’t have done it without all of you, you know.” Hanunue grunted in agreement. Tiernan smiled. “I kid, I kid. Come on, have a drink!”
He pushed two bottles of SoulGlad across the table to the pair. Mikhail hesitated. “You know I lack interest in such a beverage…” He said, contemplating. He looked over to Hanunue for guidance, who was already chugging down SoulGlad. “Looks like Brother Hanu doesn’t.” Tiernan remarked with a chuckle. “Oh, you.” Mikhail smiled at Hanunue, cracking open the bottle and lifting it to his mouth. He was stopped by a firm grunt. “Hm?” He looked over to see Hanunue extending his hand, bottle gripped by his paw. Mikhail smiled again, clinking their glasses. Tiernan joined in, too. “Cheers to victory!” Mikhail and Tiernan both exclaimed, Hanunue letting out the cool grunt equivalent.
“Alright, I’ve got more people to greet. I’ll leave you two VIPs alone.” Tiernan winked at Mikhail before walking off. Mikhail scoffed, embarrassed. He tapped his fingers on his cold glass, unsure of what to say. Hanunue broke the silence with a grunt. “Oh, I’m feeling alright. Processing the events of earlier, that’s all.” Mikhail sighed. “And yourself?” He asked, turning to look at Hanunue. “Better, now that we’ve got some time together, Watchmaker.” Hanunue smirked, placing a paw on Mikhail’s shoulder. Mikhail cleared his throat, a little flustered, red on his cheeks. “Don’t call me that..” Mikhail spoke meekly, but truthfully, he didn’t mind it. One might even say he was rather fond of the title, especially coming from Hanunue. “…How do you do it?” Mikhail asked earnestly, looking into his eyes. Hanunue grunted in confusion. “Everything you do is just so… cool. Your mannerisms, the way you fight, I mean, what drives you? What do you think about out there, on the battlefield?” Silence.
“You.” Hanunue responded, cracking open another bottle of SoulGlad. Mikhail was caught off guard, but smiled. “Really? And before we met, what did you think about then?” Hanunue set his bottle on the table with a clink. “What I always think about. What’s important to me. Back then, the people. All of those who dreamed of something beyond a mere prison.” Mikhail listened thoughtfully, nodding. He took a sip of his own SoulGlad, quickly putting it back down. “Without you, where would we be?” Another pause. Another moment of silence. Hanunue sighed. “I do not believe in such a line of thinking.” He shook his head. Mikhail let out a ‘hmph’, smirking. “Typical Hanu response…” He mumbled. Hanunue raised an eyebrow, having not heard him. “Oh, nothing.”
“I don’t want you to worry about such things, not now. We are closing in on a victory, and I am prepared to make any sacrifice asked of me. Let us enjoy this time we have together.” Hanunue drank the last of his SoulGlad. Mikhail raised a brow at his words. “Hanu, just what are you plann-“ Hanunue placed an arm around his shoulder, brushing him off. His arm was heavy and muscular, the warmth of his fur nothing less than comforting. “Let’s head out, yeah? I’d like some time alone with you.” The two stood up, arms around eachother as they walked out. “My, now I’m really wondering what you’re planning.”
The two made it to their shared bedroom. Hanunue swung the door open, practically pushing Mikhail inside. Once the two were in, he slammed the door shut, grabbing Mikhails hips and pinning him up against the shut door. “Excited, are we?” Mikhail teased. The SoulGlad was definitely taking effect. “How couldn’t I be.” Hanunue responded. Mikhail lifted a hand up to his face, caressing it. He ran his fingers through his soft fur as Hanunue leaned in. They’d done this song and dance before. Their lips met with previously subdued passion. Mikhail spoke as they pulled away to catch their breath. “A shame we can’t do this on the battlefield.” Mikhail jokes. “Says who?” Hanunue responds as he places a paw firmly behind Mikhail’s back, embracing him tightly as they kissed. Mikhail traced the outline of Hanunue’s broad back, following it to the front of his torso, carefully unbuttoning the suit he wore. In a matter of seconds, it dropped to the floor.
Mikhail began working on removing the white dress shirt Hanunue had on, next. First, his tie fell, next, the shirt. Hanunue pulled away briefly, removing Mikhail’s own shirt. Despite his big paws, he did it quite gently. Lost in a heated entanglement of the lips, Hanunue wordlessly picked Mikhail up, setting him down on the bed. Mikhail sat while Hanunue stood, leaning over him. With each brief departure, Mikhail could feel Hanunue panting against him. The warmth of the wolfs breath accompanied by his fur and the heat of intimacy made Mikhail begin to sweat. Mikhail could think about countless nights that had proceeded in this very manner, and yet, he felt something with each one. A heavy weight within his chest. A deep sadness, almost. With each battle, they risked their lives. Time and time again, they gambled. They knew the risks. And yet, Mikhail still held onto this primal fear of losing it all. Of losing Hanu.
Mikhail pulled away, looking off into the distance. Hanunue grunted in concern, cocking his head to the side like a confused puppy. His adorable face contrasted his large, muscular body, currently towered over him. Mikhail always found this gesture much too cute. Hanunue lifted a paw to Mikhail’s soft, faintly red face, turning his face towards him. “It’s just… you and I, we’re destined to end. Sometimes, it seems to be all I can think about. I know I shouldn’t, but…” Mikhail stopped abruptly, Hanunue leaning in close to him, locking eyes.
“The moment you enter a dream, you know it is destined to end. That time, though dreadful and looming, has yet to come. Allow yourself some rest, Mikhail.” Hanunue says, gazing into his eyes.
Mikhail smiled sheepishly. He unbuttoned Hanunue’s trousers, leaning back into him with hunger, gripping his fur as their mouths met once again. Hanunue pushed Mikhail back flat onto the bed, crawling on top of him. Hanu gripped the sheets, the fabric ripping under the strength of his claws. Mikhail arched his spine. A paw trailed down Mikhail’s back, towards his pants, each and every touch from Hanu shocking him, like electricity.
Hanunue pulled away briefly, running his tongue along Mikhail’s stomach all the way up to his neck, before returning to his mouth. He could hear the rustling of a belt against the fabric of Hanunue’s pants as Hanu threw the trousers across the room. Mikhail whimpered softly, the only thing stopping him from moaning was the clashing of their lips. Saliva melding into one. A fiery, spontaneous burst of passion. Like a star, burning bright, aware of the very day it will die.