Chapter Text
Admittedly, for the four men, it's been quite the long day. They were all ready for it to be over, and they were glad it was now. That didn't mean they were going to sleep just quite yet, though.
Nikolai, clutching a bottle of vodka, cringed as Richtofen openly loved on Dempsey while the four sat around the fire they'd made before sunset. The doctor and the American had been lovers for about 3 or so weeks by now—having crushes on each other for way longer before so—and it was pretty annoying to the Russian man. The two always seem to have to hold hands or kiss on one another. Always.
The Russian was just lucky Dempsey, most of the time, wasn't too fond of people watching. Unless Richtofen just wanted to be a dick and show off, Dempsey usually moved him and his lover to a different room—away from the naked eye. Tonight didn't seem to be the case so far, and Nikolai wasn't too sure about walking off by himself tonight. There seemed to be more of the undead around than usual, oddly.
"Richtofen," Nikolai eventually spoke, poking at the fire with a long, stable stick. The German looked over at the Russian, raising a brow, "Ja?" "How long are we gonna be here?" Richtofen looked around at the abandoned military base they've been at for two days or some more, before smiling. "Just until we fix the last generator. How knows how long that'll take!" He hummed, glancing over at Takeo, the ever quiet Japanese man, before turning his attention back to Dempsey.
Nikolai grunted at the answer, not too happy about it, but he's learned to accept things like that by this point. He took a swig from his bottle, still poking at the fire to keep the flames up. The light caught his blue eyes, but only for a minute before it moved away again, flicking around the area.
"So who's taking the night shift tonight?" Dempsey spoke, moving Richtofen's face from his so he could speak properly for a moment. Richtofen whined at the action, but didn't press while he tried to talk. The Russian shrugged, "I guess I will. Can't sleep worth a shit anyway." He offered, figuring the night shift was better than tossing and turning on the rough ground all night long.
"You sure?" Dempsey said, despite his attention already slowly drifting back to his German lover. Nikolai nodded, but the American spoke again, "You've been doing night shift for at least a week and a half now. How the hell are you not tired?" Nikolai, again, shrugged, not giving a direct answer. Richtofen shook his head, mumbling into Dempsey's shoulder, "I don't know how he does it. I'm a doctor, and I still want a good night's rest."
Both Dempsey and Takeo nodded quietly in agreement, but Nikolai still didn't answer. The Russian knew they all struggled to sleep, as did everyone else, but everyone else also knew Nikolai was probably the worst of them all. He could go countless days without hardly any rest, and still be alert(ish) and ready for action.
Tonight was a bit quieter than the rest the four shared together, but they still told stories every now and then. Dempsey had mentioned an ex girlfriend he had before he enlisted into the military, which got Richtofen onto his ex girlfriend. At some point, Nikolai had embarrassingly admitted he accidentally dated a guy once—which rose a lot of questions.
"How the actual shitballs does that happen?" Dempsey asked, despite knowing damn well he was the one kissing on a man right now. He just didn't expect someone like Nikolai to swing that way. Nikolai, with reddened cheeks, looked away as he took an embarrassed sip of his vodka, "I-I dunno...just kinda...happened, I guess..." Richtofen grinned a wide grin, amused with the newfound information, "Ah, don't be embarrassed, Nik. I get how you feel~" he teased, kissing Dempsey on the cheek while holding eye contact with Nikolai.
Nikolai's face only burned more, "I-It's not like I-I'm like that anymore!" He glanced at Takeo for a split second, before his eyes locked back onto Richtofen. "I-I just..." he silently damned the stutter in his voice. Richtofen smirked, "What, you're saying being gay is bad now? Oh, you wound mich (me) Nik! You wound mich!" He put his hand over his heart in a dramatic way. The Russian rolled his baby blue eyes, knowing the German was just bullshitting him by now, "Whatever..." he grunted, turning away from Dempsey and Richtofen. He was facing Takeo, who sat about 5 or 6 feet away from him, now, but didn't think much about it.
"Idiots..." Takeo muttered, polishing his katana with a rag he somehow had. Which, squinting at it, Nikolai quickly realized that rag was his! How did the Japanese warrior get that out of his small satchel undetected? "Hey!" The Russian barked, pointing at the rag, "That's mine!" He didn't care that much, really, but he was so bored it was worth being dramatic about right now. Takeo only ignored him, continuing to polish the long blade that laid across his legs.
Nikolai got up, ready to take it back, but his knees protested and he nearly sat back down because of it. Yet one deadly glare from Takeo and he was back on his ass. Okay maybe it's not worth being dramatic over... Nikolai thought to himself, turning his attention back to his vodka. He, a bit nervously (not that he'd ever admit that), ran his fingertips around the rim of the bottle, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone now.
But, despite his attempt to avoid being teased, Dempsey caught on anyway. He leaned into Richtofen's ear, and purposely not-so-good whispered, "Nik just got walked like an absolute dog!" The comment, of course, made the Russian's face burn red. "Sh-Shut up, Dempsey!" He glared at the American, who smirked at him. Out of embarrassment and growing anger, he stood up, facing Dempsey directly.
"Woah, Nik!" Dempsey, clearly a bit frightened (he'd never admit that though), stood up just as quickly. "I was joking, alright?" He attempted to calm the Russian down. Richtofen just chuckled, and Takeo did quietly too. The Russian man glared at Dempsey, before abruptly storming off, vodka in hand. The three just watched him go—Takeo unnoticeably watched him go a bit closer than the other two men did.
Once Dempsey was sure the man wouldn't whip back around as soon as he sat down, he slowly lowered himself back down to the ground. "Goddamn..." he muttered, loud enough for the other two to hear. Richtofen giggled an accent-thickened laugh, before cuddling up to the American, "Gave you quite the scare, Tank?" Amuse leaked in his German accent, as he didn't care to hide it much. The American only grunted, before looking over at Takeo, whom was still gazing off into the direction that Nikolai had walked off to.
"Tak?" Dempsey spoke to the Japanese man, which made Takeo snap his attention to him. Takeo stared at him for a bit, before looking back down at his katana, holding the rag silently. "Well," Richtofen stood up, "I'm gonna go hit the hay. Dempsey?" He looked at his lover, expecting him to follow—which the American got up and did so.
Takeo watched the two men head off to find some sort of old bunk to sleep in, leaving him in the silence of night. He hummed quietly, looking back down at the fire for just a minute before looking to the direction where the Russian had stormed off. It didn't take him long to decide whether to leave his Russian ally—friend, he guesses—alone or not. He got up from where he sat, taking only a few steps toward Nikolai's direction before pausing.
He thought for just a second, before looking at the spot where Nikolai had originally been sitting. The Russian had left one of his guns—a HK21 (which is a LMG)—which he tended to rely on a lot. Takeo sighed quietly, securing his katana at his hip and stuffing the Russian's rag into his back pocket before going over to pick up the left-behind gun. Once he thought he had what all he needed, he headed off to go find his Russian friend.
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The Japanese man crept quietly down a long, dark hallway in a ruined building. He'd been searching for Nikolai for at least 20-25 minutes by now, and he couldn't quite understand why he couldn't find the Russian. Nikolai usually didn't stay out for long once he realized he forgot his LMG, but tonight must've been a different story. Then, just as he was beginning to wonder if Nikolai was okay, he heard the low groan of zombies—then a quick pair of footsteps, followed by at least 12x as more.
Zombies. Nik?
Takeo thought, but didn't waste much time before rushing toward the footsteps. Just as he rounded the corner, a slightly taller body knocked into his—he caught the person before they could fall. It was too dark to see the person's face, but the wonder was quickly answered. The stranger's hand felt the sword at his hip, and spoke, "Takeo?" It was Nikolai—which the Japanese man should've known.
"Nikolai," he said, then quickly remembered all the footsteps and groaning of zombies. "Come on," he pulled Nikolai along down the hallway by his wrist, his grip firm to ensure Nikolai had no choice but to follow. Takeo got the two far enough away for him to give the Russian his gun, but not the rag yet—that could be saved for another time. As they were in a patch of moonlight now, he could see his Russian friend clearly now. "Are you okay?" He asked, unconsciously still holding onto Nikolai.
Nikolai nodded, taking his HK21 from the Japanese man. "Yes, I'm alright. Just ran into some trouble—too big of trouble for my shotgun to handle." He explained, gesturing back to the zombies slowly closing in. Takeo nodded too, "Right. Let's get to some actual ground before we do anything." Nikolai followed Takeo down the floors of the building, shooting any zombies that got too close with his shotgun. The hoard was small enough for the two to handle themselves, so they weren't going to waste their energy running back to Dempsey and Richtofen.
Takeo guarded Nikolai's backside as the Russian fired countless rounds to the undead demons, his aim much better than Takeo's could ever be—which he was fine with. When Nikolai had to reload, Takeo had no problem slashing at the zombies with his blade to cover his friend. It didn't take long at all for them to wipe the hoard out, Nikolai killing the last two with his shotgun.
"Nice aim," Takeo said, sliding his sword into its sheath at his hip. Nikolai nodded, "As always, Tak." He put his shotgun back on the back of his vest, which had a stretchable strap just for the purpose. "We should probably get back to camp, before any more zombies pop out." The Russian stated, which the Japanese man agreed with. Takeo led Nikolai back to the camp, where Takeo paused before he went inside.
"Hey, Nik?" Takeo said, looking at the Russian. "Yeah?" Nikolai answered, turning his gaze to his Japanese friend. "Here," Takeo took out Nikolai's rag from his back pocket, "this is yours." He said, holding it out to the Russian. Nikolai gazed at the outstretched rag, blinking in surprise. By this point, he oddly didn't want to take the rag back—not yet. "Eh," the Russian shrugged, "you can keep it for the night. You're sword is all bloody again now anyway." He said with that thick Russian accent of his.
Takeo paused, not sure how to respond to that. He had almost been sure the Russian would snatch it back aggressively, and maybe glare at him a bit. "Oh, uh..." he slowly reeled his arm back in, holding the rag closer to him. He bowed his head in quiet thanks before quickly hurrying off, not wanting to seem like this in front of the Russian no longer. This as in...embarrassed, maybe. Not that he ever got embarrassed or anything...
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Total words: 2,074