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One shots for our favourite gay russians

Chapter Text

Artyom was instructed to go with a group of rangers to the red line, helping to keep order in the anarchy consumed stations, keeping bandits, mutants and nazis from pillaging the vulnerable faction.

He had just finished patrolling a tunnel when he was left alone, to his guilt over all he has done, from betraying his father to genociding the dark ones and finally, the thing that caused him the most pain, Pavel's betrayal. He had blindly trusted the major with his talk of musketeers and true friendship. Something Artyom had had difficulty finding in the metro...

He pulled out his diary and wrote a final passage, pouring all of his guilt and grief into the thin page, a worthless piece of paper now becoming his most important message of all.

He sat at his post solemnly, contemplating how close the other rangers were and, after much deliberation, pulled his pistol from his belt and held it in trembling hands, he raised it to his forehead as tears streamed down his face, finger shaking over the trigger, he heard a familiar voice "Artyom!"

He turned but was hit with the butt of a gun, sending his world spiralling into black.

When he awoke he was in a very different place, from his limited viewpoint he could see that it was somebody's home and that certain somebody was sitting in an iron chair nearby "P-Pavel?" His voice was weak and breathy, surprising even himself with how vulnerable he sounded.

The major jerked awake to the sound of his voice "sorry d'artagnan, I didn't mean to fall asleep," he chuckled sheepishly. "A-anyway..." He trailed off, gazing at a wall "Artyom, why?"
The short spartan gave no answer and instead looked away as tears welled.

Pavel gently pulled his chin so Artyom was facing him, brushing a lone tear aside with his thumb. The spartan gripped his wrist and pushed it away softly before finally speaking, "How did you...?"
"I don't know... I heard these echoing voices saying 'save him' and 'he must be stopped'." At his last words, Artyom stiffened, "what's up d'artagnan?"
"The dark ones... they said that to me before the missiles were launched..." He was hit with a fresh wave of guilt and choked on raw emotion "A-After all they did to help me I..." he gripped Pavel's hand as he began to sob, shaking violently.

Pavel pulled him close and held him, whispering words of reassurance that he didn't really hear, he never used to be sympathetic but his short, stubborn ranger had driven some primal urge to protect and comfort out of him. His thoughts paused for a second at the term his. Artyom was not his... right? His words, however, kept flowing out until the distraught man was calmed. "Pavel," Artyom yawned, tired by the emotional turmoil, "I... I love you..."

He dozed off on the major's chest, leaving Pavel to process his words. L-love him? Pavel's cheeks became a beetroot red and he realised why Artyom had the effect he did on him... He loved the small ranger and realising this made him smile. He kissed him softly on the forehead and laid him back onto the bed.


Unbeknownst to both of them, the little dark one was watching, his grand plan had finally come together and he cackled maniacally while writing smut about the two very gay Russians.

Chapter Text

Maybe going out drinking with Pavel was a bit of a bad idea but Artyom couldn't resist the drunken flush on his cheeks or the way he seemed not to care who saw his fleeting kisses among... other things.

Tonight Pavel had managed to get a bar wide karaoke going and they were singing a bawdy russian song, the major's voice carrying above all others. Artyom sipped his vodka and smiled subtly, glad to see the man he loved having a good time...

Until a prostitute approached him, clearly intent on seducing him. Artyom clutched his tin cup tightly, barely controlled anger simmering beneath his skin as he casually saunters over and grabs Pavel by the hand, kissing his cheek and leading him out, barely making it into their small home before he pins him against a wall and kisses him roughly,

The taste of alcohol was quite strong but Artyom didn't care, driven by an ingrained need to mark, to possess. He pulled away for short breaths of air and to growl "I don't want that slut near you again." Before going back into his kissing...

Chapter Text

Artyom was out at the bar again, celebrating their survival after a near encounter with a horde of nosalises. Pavel was clearly drunk and he kept flirting with the short ranger, despite being in public.

Eventually, Artyom couldn't take it anymore and he took them both home before he began to work, kissing Pavel deeply whilst taking off his military uniform that he always thought he looked hot in. After Pavel's clothes had fallen to the floor, Artyom grabbed his semi-hard cock and began to stroke it, increasing his intensity with every sound Pavel made, causing the major to become a moaning mess.
Artyom twisted his wrist over the head of his dick and Pavel came "Artyom..." he squirted thick spurts of cum into the rangers hand, who then wiped it onto Pavel's face.

Artyom sat on the bed and pulled his pants to his knees, his throbbing cock standing upright. Pavel crouched in front of him and took the tip into his mouth, causing the other to gasp, "Fuck..."
He slowly worked his way down, tongue swirling around Artyom and eliciting whimpers from him "P-Pavel I'm gonna..."
The major pulled off, making Artyom produce a small whine but then he pumped Artyom's cock to release, warm, heavy strands of cum hitting his face, making him flinch as Artyom moaned his name over and over.

Later that same night, they lay in bed together as Pavel whispered sweet nothings into Artyom's ear, kissing him gently between sentences.

Chapter Text

During their relationship Pavel had noticed that Artyom had certain... lapses. Phases in which he became melancholy and withdrawn. It could be triggered by many things but the usual subject was their... past experiences.

After a night of gentle lovemaking, Pavel woke to the sound of a pencil furiously scribbling on paper, along with the occasional cough and sigh. He climbed out from under the thin blanket and kissed his lover on the cheek, "What's wrong?"
Artyom sighed, trembling "I just... I keep having these nightmares... and it keeps making me doubt everything, making me doubt us. I just keep worrying that I... I don't deserve to be this happy and that this is all just a dream and I'll wake up back in that cell with korbut..." as he says this, tears are running down his face, leaving trails of salty water.

Pavel pulled him into a warm embrace and rubbed circles on his back soothingly. "You deserve all the happiness in the world d'artagnan, you're a good man. Even when you made a huge mistake you still tried your best to correct it, hell, you even had the heart to forgive me..." He kissed Artyom softly and wiped his tears. "You should get some sleep."

Chapter Text

Pavel woke to find Artyom missing, finding only a note in his place. 'I'm just heading to Polis, I'll be back in a few days, I love you.'

Pavel clutched the note tightly and got dressed, shoving the paper into the chest pocket of his uniform. He picked up a double barrel shotgun and made his way to the tunnel entrance. "I need to travel to Polis." He stated, showing his badge to the young soldier. "Right away, Major Morozov!" He swiftly walked away, talking to another guard. The other nodded and called for them to prepare a railcar. "The preparations for your journey should be finished in about half an hour, sir."

Pavel thanked the soldier before heading to a familiar ranger, one of Artyom's friends, "Excuse me, Danila, is it? I need an escort to Polis."
"Why?" He raised an eyebrow.
"It's... Artyom."
"Oh. Well sure, I'd love to see Arty again." He gave Pavel a thumbs up. "So, when we leaving?"

After half an hour had passed, Pavel went to the tunnel entrance and found his railcar supplied and ready to go. He let Danila get in first and got in after.

Driving through the dark tunnels was... eerie. Pavel had always hated the dark and was tense throughout the whole ride. Though the presence of another human helped dispel some of the fear.

When they finally arrived he got straight off and thankfully found Miller before even entering the station proper. "Miller!" He yelled, this caught the man's attention and he walked over, "Artyom said he was here, have you seen him?"
"Yeah, he went to the surface and said he'd be back in a few hours. He bought nearly all the filters we have."


Pavel could feel his heart pounding and knew he had to go after him. As Miller walked away, he turned to Danila and asked "Do you want to come with me?"
"Of course! Artyom could be in serious danger, despite his incredible stubbornness."

Anna sauntered over and simply stated "I'm coming too. No way am I leaving you two nonces to rescue Artyom."
Despite the insult, Pavel smiled. "Let's go then."
They bought lots of filters and ammo before heading to the surface and scouting the area. "I'm going to go up there and see if I can lead you to him." Anna said, sprinting to the top of a pile of rubble.

She quickly spotted the short ranger limping across the landscape, holding his stomach. "He's by the statue in front of the library! He looks injured!" She yelled down their radio and the two males below broke into a mad sprint.
Pavel reached him first, grabbing his shoulder roughly "Artyom!"

Artyom turned but he looked dazed. Pavel scanned him and saw blood leaking down his armour, panicking in his head. "Artyom, we need to go back to Polis!"
The ranger simply murmured "Pavel..." before passing out into the major's arms.

"We need to get him underground, fast!" Shouted Pavel, carrying Artyom bridal style and running back to Anna. He heard gunshots from behind him as Danila fought some nosalises that were following them.

After reaching the station, they got Artyom into a medical ward straight away and sat with him until Anna and Danila were called away, leaving Pavel alone with him until, eventually, he was made to leave too.

The next day, as the railcar entered Theater, Pavel escorted Artyom, who was still dazed from his treatment, to his home. After the ranger sobered again, Pavel asked "Why?"

"I wanted to find the dark ones to apologise for killing them all and I just didn't care about what happened to me a-and..." As he talked more, the short ranger became more and more upset until he couldn't even trust himself to speak but he found he couldn't anyway because Pavel kissed him softly, causing them both to blush profusely and Pavel whispered,

"I love you too."

Chapter Text

Artyom was deathly afraid.
Not because of the upcoming battle, he was fine with that, but because of the possibility of Pavel dying.

He trembled as he picked up his gun and he turned, facing Pavel. "Hey, don't worry d'artagnan. Everything will be fine." Pavel smiled, putting on a brave face for Artyom's benefit.
The ranger kissed the other softly, soothing his fears.

They trudged down the tunnel to a small reich outpost, guarded by 6-7 men. Miller whispered "30 minutes until the assault starts, get ready."

Artyom began to work himself up again, fear creeping up his spine and causing tears to form. Pavel noticed this and took Artyom into a maintenance room that was safe, with only one entrance before whispering words of comfort.

Artyom kissed him again, this time more forcefully and full of need and Pavel kissed back. They kept kissing with increasing want as Pavel slowly pulled the short spartans pants to his ankles, freeing his twitching cock.

Artyom gasped softly when Pavel started to pump him gently, increasing in speed and intensity, driven on my Artyom's quiet gasps and moans of "Pavel..."
Pavel continued to kiss him as he worked, his hand cupping over the head every time it reached the top.

Eventually, Artyom came. Clutching Pavel's shoulders and resting his head on his chest, moaning quietly as he squirted cum onto his lover's hand. "Fuck... P-pavel..."
Pavel wiped his hand on an old cloth hanging in a locker, "Feeling better, love?"
"Yeah..." Artyom replied, breathless, "I love you."
"I love you too"

They kissed as Artyom came down from his post-orgasmic high. He then pulled his pants back up and they went back to the rest of their group.

Danila smirked at Artyom when he knelt next to him. "Shut up Danila." He said, blushing.

Chapter Text

Pavel always slept with a lamp next to the bed. Always. Artyom hadn't known until Pavel almost begged him to turn it back on when he turned it off for the first night they slept in the same bed.

Pavel had woken in the middle of the night after a particularly disturbing nightmare, only to wake with complete darkness encompassing the room.
He frantically searched for the lamp and found that it was nowhere to be found.

He checked where Artyom was when he fell asleep and felt only cold sheets. This caused him to go into a mini panic, hyperventilating as his eyes filled with tears. He trembled and whimpered "Artyom..."

Suddenly, light was shone into the room and Artyom stood in the doorway, holding the lamp. "Pavel?"
He placed the lamp on the bedside table and sat next to his lover, who pulled him into a warm embrace, wetting his shoulder and neck with tears. "N-never do that again, please..."

Artyom held the trembling major and kissed his head softly, slowly coaxing him back to sleep...

Chapter Text

Artyom crept through the concentration camp, disgusted by the sights and sounds of what the nazis were doing to these people they deemed 'mutants'.

He heard a shout and saw that Pavel was being restrained by two burly guards. Before he could even process his actions he was running towards them, grabbing the blade of the knife one of them tried to stab Pavel with, causing him to grit his teeth and one of them to snicker, "Looks like we got loverboys here, eh?" Before kicking Artyom straight into Pavel.

"Maybe we should turn them in to the entertainer."
"That sounds like a good idea, petrovich." The one who had tried to stab Pavel kicked his head into the metal grating until he was unconscious.

When he awoke, he was tied to a chair and was stripped almost naked, apart from a tight white vest and tight underwear, "Wh-What?" His throat was dry and sore, indicating that it had been many hours since he passed out.
"Ahh I see you are awake, you will be performing soon for the fuhrer himself."
"What do you mean by 'performing'?"
"Well the soldiers that found you had a special request for you... they want you to service your partner."

Artyom's face burned a deep crimson. He had to service Pavel? His underwear became tighter and he looked at the ground, ashamed.

Suddenly, a bell rings. "That means we have five more minutes." The man said, untying Artyom, "he's through the curtain."

Artyom walked through and his mouth went even drier. Pavel was dressed in a military jacket and even tighter underwear, he whispered into Artyom's ear, "Just play along, I'll find some way out eventually."

They were led onto a simple wooden stage with singers and instruments lining the sides and dancers waiting in the back. In the centre was a lone wooden chair which Pavel was instructed to sit on, and which Artyom was instructed to straddle Pavel on.

Once Artyom had seated himself the band began to play for a good while before the singers even joined in. Once the singers started singing, Pavel gripped Artyom's sides and eased him into a grinding motion, rubbing his hands up and down his back.

"Moskau Moskau
Wirf de gläser an die wand
Rußland ist ein schönes land
Ho ho ho ho ho

Artyom blocked the music and the jeers of the soldiers watching out and focused only on Pavel, the way he felt, the way he made him feel...

"Moskau, Moskau
Deine Seele ist so groß
Nachts da ist der Teufel los
Ha ha ha ha ha, hey"

He only heard Pavel's groans as he grinded against him, Pavel kissing his neck every so often.

"Moskau, Moskau
Liebe schmeckt wie Kaviar
Mädchen sind zum küssen da
Ho ho ho ho ho, hey"

Artyom gasped softly as Pavel nipped his neck with his canines, face flushing a deeper red.

"Moskau, Moskau
Komm wir tanzen auf dem Tisch
Bis der Tisch zusammenbricht
Ha ha ha ha ha"

As the song ended, Pavel brought him in for a hungry kiss. Surprising Artyom and causing him to groan.

After they were off the stage, Artyom followed the man who had untied him to their 'room'. It was made completely from brick and the door was solid metal, though they did at least have two solid beds, a toilet, a sink and a half decent light source.

Later that night, Artyom tossed and turned, not able to get comfortable, and he heard soft moans from Pavel's bed. Was he...? Artyom blushed at the thought. The moaning continued and Artyom couldn't figure out if he should wake Pavel up or carry on listening to him.

But, what if Pavel was thinking about THAT?

Blushing again, Artyom turned onto his side and looked at Pavel. The moans escaping his soft lips quieter now but still audible. Artyom sat up in his bed, his mind racing with all kinds of thoughts. Most of them about the man across the room from him.

Artyom spend the next minutes thinking of his next move. Should he wake Pavel up to make his dreams a reality or leave him be? Finally gathering the courage, he got up from his bed and walked towards the other man. Hesitantly, he climbs up and straddles Pavel but as soon as his eyes open, all the fear and hesitation vanishes.

"That dream sounded heated... Did you enjoy it?" He smirked mischievously as Pavel's cheeks flash with colour. Artyom chuckles a little and uses this one opportunity to lean in and kiss Pavel. After a moment of shock, the man leans in. Interwining their fingers in one hand and using the other to hold Artyom close, not to lose him again.

Without breaking the kiss, the two men find themselves around each other. Feeling each other and deepening the kiss even further. In an instant, clothes were off. Only breaking the kiss when they stared into each others eyes, both panting, both mesmerised by their lover.

Forced by Pavel, the men rolled resulting in Pavel being on top. Pavel lowered himself slowly and left a hot trail of kisses on Artyom's body, forcing moans out of them both. Every simple move making Artyom whimper in desperation, the slight touch of his hand on Artyom abdomen making him shiver in delight. Every look into both mens eyes revealed intense love and lust.

Satisfying both of their needs, Pavel guides Artyom's body until he's on his knees.
"Do you want to carry on?" Pavel's voice low and deep. The slight nod or Artyom's head was answer enough. And so, they carried on.
There was no warning to the pain that followed. But as they carried on, the pain shedded away and left Artyom feeling sensational. As moans escaped both of their lips, their movements became more frantic.
The moans were getting that little bit louder as they got closer to their peaks. With one final thrust from Pavel, they both came. Both now exhausted.
They moved, lay in Artyom's bed and fell asleep whilst whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears.

Chapter Text

Artyom sat at the bar, smiling drunkenly at Pavel. He thought how lucky he was to have him and his mind wandered to the day he decided to join the red line.

After finding out that Artyom had the chance to join the red line, Pavel and Artyom celebrate together through drinking. Vodka after vodka. Whiskey after whiskey. The place packed with people, either trying to forget their problems or have fun like these two 'gentlemen'.
The space of time between the drinking was them laughing their arses of at a small joke or telling their own stories from the past. Everything leading to one moment that may change them for the better or worse. Everything making them more confident around them and bringing them closer together in what Artyom and Pavel both secretly wished was a more than friends relationship.

After finding out that Artyom had the chance to join the red line, Pavel and Artyom celebrate together through drinking. Vodka after vodka. Whiskey after whiskey. The place packed with people, either trying to forget their problems or have fun like these two 'gentlemen'. The space of time between the drinking was them laughing their arses of at a small joke or telling their own stories from the past. Everything leading to one moment that may change them for the better or worse. Everything making them more confident around them and bringing them closer together in what Artyom and Pavel both secretly wished was a more than friends relationship.
By the time they were both both a drunken mess, the day was closing to an end. Artyom, despite in this state, felt the need to say something, anything really, as long as it filled the silence between them. He stood and looked at Pavel, invading his personal space a little, but this needed to be said. As soon as he dew in breath to speak, he completely forgot what it was.

They both clung onto each other and walked towards the exit. Halfway back to their sleeping quaters, Artyom starts blabbering on with himself about everything that's happened in his life. "You know, ever since I've laid eyes on you, I've loved you with everything in me."
Time seems to stop in that one moment for both men. Pavel stops and takes a glace at Artyom eyes, from what he can tell in his slightly drunken state is that he's sincere with his words. The pair of eyes filled with embarrassment and...... lust?

Time starts again and they both make a move. Who knows who was first but their lips crashed together. Trying to walk and kiss was almost impossible for the two men. Breaking the kiss, Pavel caressed Artyom's face. His breath heavy, he picked up Artyom into a bridal style and got to their sleeping quaters faster than they could've before.

Gently laying Artyom on the bed, Pavel kneeled at the side of the bed and made himself sure that he could make his lover actually feel loved. He slowly rose and was on top of Artyom within a matter of seconds. They immediately felt bolts of electricity flowing through them with every touch of their bodies. They were both drunk off of love (and the 7 bottles of vodka that we don't talk about).
They guided each other, Pavel asking if Artyom was sure about this..... Pavel couldn't tell if it was the alcohol talking, but Artyom wasn't that drunk.......
Pavel shed off his worry and went ahead.

They stripped each other in turns and took moments to take the other one in, to appreciate one another fully. Pavel guided Artyom to the position he needed to be in, and with one final breath, he asked if Artyom if he was still sure. Artyom was as sure as he could ever be at this point. Pavel entered his length making Artyom groan in pain and slight delight. With every thrust, the pain went away that little bit more making both men moan.
They became more frantic in their actions over the course of time, but they both enjoyed every second of it.
Moaning and panting like dogs in heat, Pavel released inside Artyom with a groan, which caused him to release onto his chest. They held each other close until they fell into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

Pavel didn't look at mirrors. He always thought he was too skinny or too tall, his shoulders weren't macho and broad like the other men he saw and
although he was quite muscular, he didn't think he was as muscular as the others.

Of course, he kept these concerns to himself, thinking that others would laugh at his predicament.

One day, when he had barely escaped death to the reich, thanks to Artyom (again), he ended up slumped against the wall of a tunnel, holding a bullet wound.

"Pavel, I'm going to need to slightly undress you... okay?" Artyom sounded flustered, like he was hiding something but Pavel didn't notice over his own fear. What if Artyom thought he was scrawny or too feminine or ugly? The thoughts raced through his head and he scrambled up against the wall. "I-I'm fine," he chuckled, "No need to worry about me!" But even as he said it he winced.

Artyom could tell something was wrong just from the way he tensed up but now it was clear, he was upset about something.
"Pavel, what's up?"
"Nothing d'artagnan!"
"Then why are you so opposed to me taking your armour off so I can check your wound?"
"Listen, it's only me and you here, nobody else"
"Listen to me, either you get over it or I take you to a station and complete strangers do it." Artyom said sternly, he wasn't going to let this go on any longer.

Pavel sighed, "Fine. Fine, go ahead." He was absolutely terrified of what Artyom would think of him, what he'd say.

As Artyom slowly began to undress him, he felt heat bloom onto his cheeks and into his crotch, he was terrified, of course, but Artyom was undressing him, what else did he expect to happen?

Artyom, too, was feeling this effect, looking pointedly at the wall just behind Pavel's head. He finally got Pavel's shirt off and his mouth went dry, Pavel was in front of him shirtless and he was the one who undressed him. He cleared his throat and set to work checking and binding Pavel's wound.

Meanwhile, Pavel was panicking. 'I knew it, he thinks I'm ugly, he's gonna bully me and I'm never even going to have a chance' he thought. He shielded his eyes with his arm, not wanting to see Artyom's face, his disgust. After the ordeal was over with, he hastily put his clothes back on and curled up into a ball, bringing his knees to his chest.

"I uh... we should get going, to the nearest hansa station. You still have your passport, right?" Said Artyom, who was standing once again with a red blush on his cheeks, though it was barely visible through the grime of the tunnels and the dim light.

Pavel nodded, pulling out the aforementioned passport and standing himself, making sure he was properly covered up. "Yes, we should get- get going, ay chuvak?"
"We should." replied the other. "You know... you shouldn't be so worried about your body. It's... attractive." Even as he said it, Artyom felt his face burn, what cruel god had made him say that?
Pavel, too, was blushing, "Right... I'll uh, I'll keep that in mind."

Chapter Text

He had always had a horrible case of Anxiety. Always. He could barely speak one on one with certain people, but he had been elected to be the presenter of the ranger's new plan of action regarding the red line. Just thinking about it made him nauseous. Pavel couldn't know about his fear, what if he judged him? This is what anxiety does to Artyom. It makes him doubt himself constantly, makes him almost suicidal even. This is what Pavel could never know. Unless Artyom manages to choke out the words....

Now to present the new idea for dealing with the red line. Artyom had no idea how to present it without breaking down, which was a problem since the presentation was in three hours. He locked himself in an empty room and began to tremble, his breathing speeding up. He couldn't do it, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He needed help, and fast.

He heard knocking on the door and, steeling himself, opened it. Pavel was stood there with a concerned expression, "D'artagnan, are you alright?" Pavel barely finished his sentence before Artyom was there, holding him tightly and shaking like a leaf.
"Shit, Artyom... hey. You're okay, you're with me." He touched his head lightly, brushing his hand through it. "What's wrong?"
Artyom tried to speak but no words came out, everything he wanted to say stuck in his throat. He instead gripped tighter and let out a trembling sob.
"Hey, look at me, Artyom, look at me." The man gripped the ranger by the shoulders, "You'll be alright, D'artagnan."
The man nodded, looking up at the former major, "yes, yes okay." He wiped his eyes, "I'll be okay."

Chapter Text

The cold air bit at his face as he taunted the spartan in the square below, using the humour to mask the pain he felt at having to... "deal with him". Alas, he was a soldier, and he followed his orders. He jumped when he heard gunshots below, listening to the cries of pain below and praying, despite his secular teachings, that Artyom would have been killed too quickly to have felt pain, praying that he'd been killed at all. He knew that if Artyom managed to survive he wouldn't be able to bring himself to do it, so he hoped that it wouldn't come to that.

He knew that whatever was out there had damned him when he saw the spartan walk across the square alone, stepping over bodies without flinching, though Pavel knew that every life ended today would burden Artyom for the rest of his life. He made his way down the stairs just as Artyom arrived, hardly hesitating as he opened fire on the ranger, unable to look him in the eyes. He was forced to retreat though, as he was shot in the leg multiple times, before he was cornered upstairs, watching Artyom approach with that... thing. The Dark One. He barely had time to make a joke before he was sucked into a strange world, pinned to the wall by dark hands that gripped him tighter when he struggled.

He barely registered his yelling, practically begging Artyom to save him. He almost sobbed with relief when the other freed him, returning to consciousness for only a second to see Artyom replacing his filter, before turning to leave.

"Don't... go... Artyom..." he almost whimpered, before unconsciousness claimed him again.

Chapter Text

"Goddamnit you bastards!" Pavel groaned into his headset as he was killed for the 4th time, "Why did you close the door on me?"

"Relax, pavel, it's not like we locked you in a room with a flesh eating monster." Anna replied, sarcastically

"Shut it." Pavel said, "When I spawn back in I'm killing you and ulman so hard." He grinned as the announcement for his respawn sounded throughout the map and immediately got out his gun, camping the entrance to the building.

He stayed still until he heard Ulman's voice faintly yelling "Run! He's here! We have to escape!" Ulman and Anna's characters came sprinting round the corner and directly into Pavel's fire and he downed them in mere seconds.

However, after them came a bright red monster, running down the corridor after pavel had turned to go to the other entrance to find it. Pavel was completely unaware of this and so, when it attacked him, he shrieked and started firing everywhere, dying before he could do significant damage to it. "Damn it Artyom!" He said, face bright red as Anna and ulman laughed at his scream, "Don't scare me like th-" he was cut off as he heard an unfamiliar laugh through a microphone. In fact, everyone went completely silent.

Pavel found the laugh to be one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard, and was completely shocked. Anna was the first to break the silence, "Artyom? Did you just... speak?"
"I- uh... it seemed like a good time?" Came the timid reply, "I know I haven't done it before but..."
There was a loud thump from Ulman's microphone as he presumably fainted, and pavel turned off his microphone and just whispered, "I think I'm in love, holy shit..."

Chapter Text

Artyom hadn't celebrated anything since he left uncle Sasha, his adoptive father. He certainly hadn't given Christmas a thought so he was surprised when he saw Miller making preparations, hanging up some half broken fairy lights someone had salvaged from the surface and repaired, mostly.
They'd never really celebrated Christmas at his home station, aside from a few aspects. It was more preserved for the cultural value that he'd been taught the rest of the metro lacked.

Obviously, he was even more surprised when he saw Pavel helping out. "I thought communists didn't believe in god?" He asked, once they were out of earshot of everyone else.
"Well, yes, but we celebrated anyway, for fun." Pavel replied, "didn't you?"
"No, we just did the cultural side of it..." he muttered, what had he been missing out on?
"Hey, don't worry d'artagnan, you'll be just fine." Pavel smiled confidently, knowing that Christmas would be great.

Weeks passed and Artyom was genuinely enjoying himself with this, helping to put up decorations and such. He even managed to steal a few for him and Pavel, putting them around the tent while Pavel was on guard duty at the 300th metre to surprise him. Earning him more than just a few kisses.

On Christmas day, Artyom was woken by Pavel quite early, his watch displaying 5:35, about half an hour before he usually woke up. "Artyom, come!" Pavel shook him gently, "I got something for you."
He sat up carefully, rubbing his eyes before getting up properly and getting dressed in his usual clothes. "I got something for you too, Major." He teased, "come, then. Show me what you're so excited about."

They left the tent, Pavel leading the way to a small locker that he'd managed to rent off of someone for a rather low price. He unlocked the locker and pulled out a box shaped package wrapped in old newspapers. "I-I hope you like it." Muttered Pavel, sheepishly. Artyom carefully unwrapped the paper, face lighting up in delight when he saw what was hidden inside. A large pile of postcards, from places all over the world. From London to Cape Town to Tokyo. "Pavel I..." Artyom was speechless, before he pulled the other into a kiss, pulling back after a moment or two, "Thank you so much..."

Pavel had gone bright red, though he grinned. "Merry Christmas, D'Artagnan.

Chapter Text

Artyom whined as he clutched the pillow tighter to his chest. Trying to relieve the oppressive heat that had shrouded him entirely. He shuddered as his sensitive dick brushed against the fabric of his underwear, twitching uncontrollably. He'd been like this for hours now, hardly able to breathe from the thick, sickly sweet scent that hung in the poorly ventilated room, the source of said scent soaking his underwear and pants.
He let out another whimper as he bucked his hips, hole clenching desperately. He needed something inside him, now.
Tentatively, he reached down to undo his pants, pulling them down along with his underwear. He let out a gasp as his cock sprang free, almost hitting him on the stomach is it leaked onto the bed, the cool air doing nothing against the searing heat.
He then reached behind him, pulling his fingers back to inspect the slick lubricant that now covered the majority of his ass and thighs, before rubbing a finger against his hole, pressing it in slowly.

The ranger let out a high pitched whine at the stimulation, bucking his hips back against his finger as he began to move, adding another two as he sped up, letting out more and more obscene noises as he chased after relief, only for it to elude him.
The harder he tried, the further away it got, seemingly impossible to catch. He almost cried from frustration at how close he was getting and how far he was from his relief.
This seemingly went on for hours, where Artyom would chase after his orgasm only for it to get further away from him.
He let out a sob at how painfully hard he was, and begged whatever gods were out there for release.

His prayers seemed to be answered when there was a knock at the door. "Hey, d'artagnan, I'm coming in." Said pavel, opening the door and closing it behind him, "Hey, love, how are you doing?" Pavel sat on the bed.
Artyom whimpered softly, barely liftign his head, "A-alpha..." he whined, "please..." his voice cracked.
"Of course..." came the gentle reply, as pavel pulled his fingers out of his hole, causing Artyom to whine loudly, "I see you don't need any prep, huh?" Pavel joked, though Artyom was not in any state of mind to appreciate it.
He heard pavel undoing his pants and then felt his fingers at his hole, covering themselves in slick before retreating. He then heard quiet moans as pavel began to lubricate himself, before lining up at Artyom's entrance, "You ready, d'artagnan?" Asked Pavel, getting only a weak murmur in response from the omega beneath him. Artyom felt his alpha push himself in, almost letting out a sob of relief at how good it felt. How right it felt when his alpha was inside him. It drove him almost insane. "Fuck, you're so tight..." he heard pavel grunt behind him, "fuck..."
He let out a sharp cry as he felt pavel's cock hit his prostate, " P-Pasha!" He barely gave any warning before he came, covering the bed and his stomach with streaks of white. He panted, slowly coming down from his high when he felt himself becoming hard again, as the unbearable heat returned only a minute later, "A-alpha..." he whimpered, voice full of desperation and want "p-pasha..."
Pavel's resolve snapped, and Artyom felt him begin to thrust at a faster, rough pace, leaning down to bite at his neck, whispering to him, "Fuck you're so beautiful..." the compliment caused Artyom to blush and for his arousal to get even stronger. "Such a good omega..." pavel whispered again, causing Artyom to whimper, leaning back into him to smell his scent. Somehow, the body heat from his alpha seemed to dissipate his own, rather than strengthen it.

He soon felt pavel's thrusts becoming sloppy and erratic, judging by that and the laboured breathing in his ear he judged that pavel was about to have his own orgasm. He was proven right as pavel thrust himself as deep as he possibly could and bit down on Artyom's neck as hard as he could, drawing a few beads of blood. The feel of the bite on his neck and the larger male shooting inside him made Artyom have his second orgasm of the day, dirtying the bed even more as he came down from his post orgasmic bliss, feeling pavel pull back from his neck and start licking away the blood, shivering at the sensation.
"I love you, pasha..." he panted out
"I love you too, Artyomchka..." pavel kissed the bite he had left and held the other close.

Chapter Text

Artyom was knelt down, humming as he picked mushrooms from the rudimentary farms in the blocked off tunnels by VDNKh. It was quiet and relaxing, and he enjoyed it. It wasn't the adventurous life he used to want, but he had come to find peace in the monotonous repetitiveness of the task, compared to the hectic, stressful life he had been leading last year.

He had come back to his home after the pressure placed on him became too much, and only served to aggravate his PTSD. He'd practically run home to Sukhoi, embracing his father and giving a tearful apology. His father accepted him back immediately, and he had been placed in his old tent.

His mind then wandered to Pavel, his musketeer. He had first come to VDNKh around 9 months ago, quickly settling into life in the station. He still wondered sometimes what Pavel thought about the shift from a respected and feared major of the red line to a humble mushroom farmer and tea factory worker, but he seemed happy enough to be contributing in a positive way, after his past.

Life was perfect for him. Almost.

There were times when he would wake up, feeling his lungs burn as the rope stung his neck, or feel gashes all over him where he was torn apart by a group of mutants.
But the worst were the ones where he had to see Pavel die.
Pavel being hung.
Pavel being shot in the head.
Pavel succumbing to the poisonous air of the surface.

It was those memories that would drag him out of sleep, tears streaming down his face as he frantically checked that Pavel was alive.

You see, Artyom's ability was to change fate itself.
If he got shot he could simply replay the event and the shot would ricochet off of him.
If a tunnel collapsed and trapped him he could simply replay the event and he would miraculously make it in the nick of time.

However, his curse was that he always remembered.

Every time he died.
Every time Pavel died.
Every time he failed to save someone.

They would not remember. They would be able to go on with their lives as if nothing had happened.
Artyom didn't have that luxury.

His blessing was fate, but his curse was memory.