Belikov and Bell are totally just comrades, y'all...
Charkov: ...And that's how my lovely fiancée and I met. You should come to our wedding this month. Speaking of weddings...when is the next wedding happening?
Bell: Wedding?
Charkov: Between you and Belikov.
Bell: W-what?! Belikov and I are comrades. We’re comrades! Best comrades. Just comrades-
that one time in Kandahar | Bell/Belikov Soviet-Afghan War AU one-shot
You sighed, staring down at the many empty shot glasses of vodka in front of you. His presence against you was a comforting, familiar one as you leaned against him with your legs touching his. Your vision blurred ever so often under the flickering lamps hanging over the bar.
The flames erupting from one shot of vodka set alight by the enthusiastic Afghan bartender blurred into the scorching flames greedily consuming the wreckage of the armored APC downed by the dushmani.
That was one you and your unit hadn’t been able to save.
And then there was the news when you got back.
Another Mi-24 gunship on a convoy escort mission had been shot down over the Hindu Kush mountains, a region your unit would soon be moved to patrol over. The crew of the crashed gunship hadn’t survived. The pilot opted to pull the pin of his one grenade over the possibility of capture.
You couldn’t blame him.
Blinking away the orange blurs in your vision, you sighed once more. Routine missions like that could easily go so wrong. All it took was one lucky shot by the dushmani with their accursed Stingers the Americans handed out like candy-
Resting your head against his shoulder, you glanced up at your companion.
If it came down to it, you preferred to go out in the initial fiery impact of the crash. Still, that was selfish...
“Please don’t die,” you murmured before leaning closer-
Warm chapped lips brushed against your own with the familiar scent of vodka and aviation kerosene greeting you like an old friend-
You blinked, staring up into those gunmetal blue eyes.
Like an old friend, the words echoed in your mind.
You vaguely heard the sound of breath hitching in surprise.
The vodka, you distantly thought while you pulled away from him, was really helpful.
Even in the cool Afghan air of Kandahar, your cheeks heated as did your lips oddly enough.
It was the vodka.
Before you could stumble over an apology, Dimitri abruptly pulled away from you, suddenly calling out for another round of vodka. You stared at the tan fabric of his Afghanka winter coat as his back faced you.
You only meant to give him a kiss on the cheek.
...And was the kiss really that bad for him?
“Sorry, Mitya,” you murmured before looking back down at your shot glass dejectedly-
“ДА!” Charkov suddenly exclaimed beside you, shaking his fist in the air, “You hear that, Gusev? I won the bet! I told you it would happen before Kabul. You owe me seven packs of Marlboros, my friend-”
“Nyet, nyet!” Gusev vehemently denied, leaning forward against the wooden counter of the bar. He slammed his shot glass down, “It was one-sided. It does not count!”
You dazedly glanced between the two, only registering the word “one-sided” with a wince. Dejectedly, you looked down once more. You didn’t mean to ruin the night for Mitya and yourself…
“Comrade,” Charkov suddenly said lowly, grasping the Mi-24 gunner’s shoulder as he leaned closer with a smile befitting that of a zampolit, “We made no such rule.”
Gusev gulped before nervously laughing, “But you know my friend...There are other fish in the sea for young Bell there. Like that Spetsnaz captain-”
You didn’t know what exactly happened right then and there. One moment, Gusev was looking up at Charkov with a placating smile, the next, his face suddenly paled as Charkov stared down at him.
You blinked.
Before you could ask if the caviar went down wrong for Gusev, he hastily looked away, laughing once more.
“Ah, b-but you know, perhaps I was mistaken. Sometimes, couples are just fated to be with one another-”
The exposed gray ventilation above you on the safehouse’s ceiling came into focus as you stared up at it. Rain pelted the roof above you in a distinct pitter-patter, yet you could still register the cheery sounds of drunken soldiers talking amongst themselves and that one enthusiastic soldier exclaiming about him winning those Marlboros.
You blinked, dazedly brushing fingers over your warm lips.
The smell of vodka, aviation kerosene, and Afghan dust still lingered in the air like an old friend.
What a vivid dream, you thought sleepily. And an odd one at that.
Along with other soldiers, Belikov was in it and you had-
You had kissed him.
Kicking away the thread-bare sheets at your feet, you sighed and rubbed the back of your suddenly warm neck.
Someone must have turned up the thermostat.
It really was an odd dream.
Shaking your head, you laid back down onto the sheets only to find yourself staring up restlessly at the ceiling moments later. Hollowness ironically filled your chest in a vague sense of loss- no longing. Distantly, you brought a hand up to your aching chest right where your heart was and grasped the fabric of your shirt there.
You leaned your head against your hand, staring longingly at the pot of coffee brewing at the corner. The familiar sound of the boiling dark brew already woke up slightly.
Usually, Sims or Lazar would make the coffee in the morning. But you hadn’t gotten any sleep and woke up at 0400 hours to make coffee.
Now that you thought of it, ever since you came to the safehouse with Adler, you had been rather sleepy... But this was different. Just a restless night that came with an oddly vivid dream, you asserted.
Yawning, you perked up at the sound of footsteps behind you.
“...Good morning,” you said sleepily.
“Доброе утро, my friend,” an all too familiar accented voice greeted in turn. You blinked, jolting awake ever so slightly at the sound of his voice.
Quickly, you went back to staring at the brewing coffee pot by the corner and gestured to it with one hand, “I, uh, made some coffee.” you said rather lamely. Words seemed to fail you in the early unholy hours of 0400.
You heard Belikov take a seat beside you. Hearing the timer beep and the boiling come to a low, you perked up and walked over to the coffee pot. You glanced back at your companion questioningly. You heard coffee wasn’t generally consumed in the Soviet Union…
Belikov nodded with a smile.
You awkwardly smiled back and grabbed the paper cups in the corner, pouring you both a cup of the dark brew. Hopefully, he was okay with drinking coffee black. The safehouse ran out of sugar and cream yesterday and Lazar was up for grocery runs…
Setting back into your seat with coffee in hand, you sighed, enjoying the familiar aroma of caffeine. A silence settled in the air as the rain pelted the windows outside. There was a storm system rolling through the Berlin metropolitan area according to the weather forecast...
“Did you sleep alright?” the Russian suddenly asked, his voice filled with friendly concern. You bit your lip guiltily. Belikov was always so friendly and nice, asking about your wellbeing. Only Lazar ever really did that before. And to think you had that weird dream about Belikov when he was this considerate…
“I-I’m fine,” you asserted, “I just had this weird dream-”
Deep down, you knew better than to start explaining that dream to him. But if you left that brief kiss part out, maybe it’d be cathartic and you could move on from it.
Like giving a confession, you thought sleepily.
4am thoughts really were the best.
“-where we were both getting drunk in this bar in Kandahar. And there were soldiers around us drinking vodka as well. And one soldier kept on exclaiming about him winning packs of Marlboros for some reason…” you rambled on, feeling the guilty weight off your chest lessen.
Suddenly, you heard Belikov choke on his coffee.
“Are you okay, Mitya?!”
You worriedly patted his back, hearing him cough even more. After a few tense moments of coughing, he settled down. You opened your mouth to ask if he was alright, only to be interrupted when gunmetal blue eyes suddenly stared at you with an unfamiliar intensity.
Author’s Note: I debated on whether or not to post this since this is probably a rather confusing AU to read.
Basically, this is an AU in which Bell and Belikov serve together as Mi-24D pilots in the same helicopter assault unit during the Soviet-Afghan War. The overall timeline of cod cold war is shifted more than several years since the Soviet-Afghan War really started happening in the 1980s. Also, I'm leaving things vague but things happened in between Bell and Belikov's service in Afghanistan and the events of the campaign that made Bell have amnesia. So Bell doesn't remember her close past with Belikov.
On a side note...this is why I don't write kiss scenes. I'm horrible with writing them XD. Although to be fair, this was kinda meant to not be really romantic cause Bell's drunk haha.
Well, I hope this was tolerable to read. Thanks for reading!
