#luca fletcher

[whumpasaurus101]

Golden Boy (Chapter XIII)

Happy Luca day!!! Let's just get straight into it!

Chapter One / Masterpost / Continued from here

--- Despite what had happened, he had an extra pep in his step. It had been months since Jet and Luca had been off grounds together, it brought back fond memories.

“Well at least we left early for the shuttle,” Jet says, nodding at the bus pulling into the station. “Means we weren’t late.”

As the shuttle's engine hums hums and the camp morphs into a gentle blur outside its windows, Jet and Luca settle in two seats near the centre of the shuttle. It had been a while since Luca had left the grounds, it was a privalege that most soldiers had to earn- Luca, of course had long lost that privalege along with countless of others.

The military grounds, surrounded by forestry and woodlands soon began to stretch out to trails of dirt wtch then slowly began to stretch into the classs one paved roads that indicated the stone city was approaching.

It was a beatiful town, its riches were evident but never hid the remaining evidence of the toll it had taken from the war. While most buildings had been rebuilt, the more non-salvagable ones were left almost as memoires. Multiple plaques and flowers stood proudly, celebrating and commemerating the fallen soldiers that had fallen. The remaining soldiers however also showed evidence of the war- missing limps- sometimes two at a time- battle scars some physical some mental. But it was something that brought the town together. Although the war tore down the town, it only brought the people closer and made the town stronger.

The shuttle stops and the two soldiers thanked the driver before walking out. Jet couldn't help but smile fondly as Luca looked around him, his emerald eyes practicaly sparkling with anticipation.

"Pretty great, huh?"

"I forgot how much I loved it here."

"Yeah well maybe if you keep up your little father-son runs, you can charm your way into more visits here- OW-"

Luca thumps him upside his head with a devilish smirk, "Yeah, whatever, let's get your book because your the biggest suck up known to man."

The bookstore was close to empty. Jet spoke to the bookkeeper for most of their time there as Luca walked along the aisles of books, running his finger along each spine he walked by- as if he could read their stories from a simple touch.

He watches as Jet hands over the money over one of the bookshelves, pulling on one of the spines of the books as he studies the blurb. He only half read it, not really caring much. Reading was never his thing, he always made fun of Jet for having such a love for it.

"Ready to go?"

Luca shoves the book back to where it was with a smile and nods and they leave the bookstore, Jet thanking the bookeeper again.

They walk down the cobbled streets of the town; Luca found some sort of comfort in how every shop was layed out just the way it had been since last time he stepped foot on the streets. Jet nudges him and cocks his head to the café they used to go to practically every day when Luca had just joined the Cadets. Luca smirks as an answer and they begin towards the door.

The bell rings as Jet opens the door for the pair and Luca steps in. The aroma instantly hitting him and he closes his eyes for a moment. Jet places a gentle hand against the nape of Luca’s neck as they joined the team.

“Nothing has changed here,” Luca smiled as he looked around.

“Grab the usual seat,” Jet tells him, “I’ll grab the hot chocolate.”

Luca happily walks to the seat at the window that looked to the town, the streets, the people, the life. Everything that they served to protect.

Jet comes back with two plates of sweet treats, chocolate cake, lemon tart, muffins, gingerbread, cookies and grins at Luca sheepishly

I may have bought the entire shop,” he jokes. “But just for today, just for a special occasion. A congratulations on your promotion.”

Lucas eyes blow wide, “Holy shit” he laughs, “Thank you, Jet…this is… wow..” his face burnt red as his gratitude overfilled him.

Jet grins as he slides into the opposite seat. “Well, I have a feeling all you’ll be eating with Flint is protein and leaves so, a little treat might be nice before you go, hey?” Jet’s black eyes smile at Luca as he sets the plate in front of him, delighted that Luca was happy.

Luca smiles and does what he always does; with a knife he cuts every baked good in a straight and even half, “Yeah definitely don’t tell Flint about this,” Luca smiles as he licks chocolate from his thumb.

Jet laughs and picks up a piece of muffin. “Your secret’s safe with me,” he winks.

Luca wants to smile, to enjoy his time, but something ate him inside at the thought of this possibly being the last moment with Jet like this.

The hot chocolate arrives shortly after, and so does the owner, an older woman in her sixties, Sarah, who always doted on the two boys. She was a robust woman, but you wouldn’t think it by her fragile looking figure, like a harsh wind could snap the bones beneath elastic skin. She has a kind face and wispy grey hair that refuse to ever tie back into her low bun.

“Jet told me you got a promotion,” she says with her harsh voice, over-pronouncing hard consonants like her T’s and D’s, like the Northerners of Norkwitch do. Luca smiles up at her, knowing this was her warm tone. “It’s very special. Very exciting, boy.” She pinches his cheeks in one tiny hand and smiles widely down at him. “I am very proud of you. Little troublemaker, huh? Onto bigger and better things.”

A blush spreads across Lucas face and he smiles, “Thanks, Sarah, guess you were right, a pretty face does get you far,” he winks, laughing as the woman swats him on the shoulder. He fakes an offended expression.

“Yeah yeah, well you deserve it, you know you’re my favorite cadette.”

Lucas smile grows, “and you know that you’re my favourite hot chocolate maker.”

She lifts her towel as if to smack him, her lips pulling back into a laughing scowl. “I better be your only hot chocolate maker, eh?”

She turns to Jet with shining eyes. “I found that thing you wanted. Would you like it now?”

Jet looks at Luca and back at Sarah. “Yes, please. If it’s no trouble.”

"If it was trouble I wouldn’t do it, please,” she says with a dismissive wave and goes to the counter, walking like a woman thirty years younger than her.

Lucas brows furrow, his smile still on his face, “What’s the aul one on about?” He asks, head tilting slightly.

Jet grins at him, biting into a muffin. “You’ll see,” he says, “Have patience young cadet.”

Sarah returns with a camera that prints photos as they’re taken.

It’s a big clunky piece of cogs and machinery that looks far too heavy for Sarah to hold up but she’s carrying it like it’s nothing.

“I know Sarah has the pictures for the food and I asked her if she would take one of us, so you can take it with you,” Jet says with a grin. “I don’t know how far away you’ll be or if we’ll even get a chance to see each other anymore but…”

Jet raises his eyes to meet Luca’s, something somber in his eyes that Luca never saw before. “Whether you want one or not, I want one, so we’re doing it,” he says, holding his head high.

Luca blinks hard and clears his throat, “Fuck you, lieutenant you soft prick,” he kicks Jet under the table but Jet only laughs, “Come here, son of a bitch.”

“I’ll whack you both with the wooden spoon if you boys don’t mind your language,” Sarah huffs. As the boys laugh, the flash goes off twice and two photos print.

Luca stares at the photo on the shuttle back to base, stuffed from the amount of sweet treats that Jet bought topped with the hot chocolate. He stares at Jet’s coal black eyes, that somehow looked bright with so much laughter and joy and life, like he’s never known struggle. Luca stares at his own eyes, the same brightness to them, the kind he’s never seen in them before.

Besides military issued photographs, Luca can’t remember if he had any before. Not any that were for him at least, and Jet did it like it was nothing. It feels too big in his hands, too precious, like he might break it if he stares too long so he tears his gaze away and tunes back into whatever Jet was saying.

Luca blinks and shakes his head, “Shit- sorry- I heard nothing-“

Jet laughs, rolling his eyes and he swats Luca playfully, “Well atleast it’s safe to say that the cadettes haven’t changed you.” Luca smirks and swats Jet back.

As the shuttle comes to a slow, they get off at their stop. The gravel crunches under their military boots as they walk through the grounds. Luca has his hands in his pockets, grip tight on the photo and he finally breaks the silence,

“Thank you for today- it was way too much and uhm…” he swallows hard

“I hope this isn’t.. the end..”

“Don’t be daft,” Jet says, messing up Luca’s hair again before shoving his head away to Luca’s disgruntled: hey! “This isn’t the last time. There’s always family day. And the Renewal festival, and all those other boring ceremonies that we can actually look forward to now!”

“Well I always look forward to family day,” Luca says with a smirk.

“She doesn’t actually love you more than me,” Jet says hotly. “She just has to say that because you’re small and fragile and—”

“Better looking,” Luca adds with a sympathetic nod before patting Jet on the back. “I know it must be hard for you.”

Jet slaps his hand away, “Oh, now you’re getting it, prick,” He playfully grabs Lucas shirt and jostles the cadete, making him laugh.

A man clears his throat and both Luca and Jet immediately stand at attention, backs straight and arms behind their backs as Flint stands before them.

Flint’s eyes scan the both of them, something unreadable in his stare as he assesses the pair. “At ease, soldiers,” Flint says, his smooth, intense tone carrying the command like a spell releasing them from their positions.

He walks up to Jet in the same confident way that he strides up and downhill, like the world moved for him and not the other way around.

"You are Second Lieutenant Turner, yes?”

Jet’s eyes widen again at being acknowledged by the general. He stands a little taller and puffs out his chest. “Yes sir, General.”

“I understand you were responsible for Cadet Fletcher’s monitoring of behaviour for the last few weeks?”

Jet falters for a split second but nods, “Yes, general, cadete fletcher has been under my watch over the past months,”

Luca eyes Flint cautiously, his heartbeat racing.

Flint hums. “Your reports have been essential in helping me make my decision, second lieutenant. Thank you for your diligent work.” He extends a hand to Jet, his elbow at a perfect 90 degree angle. Jet blinks at the General with wide eyes before he grins. He takes the General’s hand and nods at him. “Thank you sir. It has been a pleasure to help.”

Lucas shoulders relax and he smiles slightly, the corners of his mouth quirking ever so slightly into a smile.

“I guess you could say that my behaviour helped, Jet, no?” He smirked but instantly prepared for a slap or a punch of some sort.

Jet shot him an exasperated look that said: bro… just let me have this. While Flint merely cocked an unimpressed brow at him.

“Not the right moment, got it.” He shuts his mouth and his eyes fall to the ground once more. There’s a silence and Lucas stomach churns. He knew it was coming. Knew that it was his time where he’d be leaning jet now…

Flint steps away and says, “I’ll give you both a moment,” before he walks back to the administration building.

“You’re welcome,” Jet says. Luca glances up at him, to see Jet forcing a cocky grin that was twinged with sadness. “I’m the reason you got promoted,” he says.

The second Luca's vision glosses with tears he collapses into Jet's arms as he hugs him as tight as ever. Their chests rise and fall in an unfamiliar way but both silently agreed they weren’t crying if anyone asked.

“Asshole..” Luca whispers before a sob cuts him off, his arms wrapping tighter around the second lieutenant.

“Annoying, arrogant little shit,” Jet replies, his voice cracking with emotion as he tightens his grip on Luca. “I’m gonna miss you,” he whispers, his hand going to the back of Luca’s head and pushing him further into Jet’s shoulder. “I love you bro,” he sniffs. “And don’t— you better write. You hear me?”

Luca huffs a shaky breath and nods, “love you too..” his voice cracks but he doesn’t care.

They stay like that for a moment before they force thselves away. Luca looks at jets equally tear stained face and he shoves him, “You look like shit.”

Jet laughs and shoves Luca harder, “I could say the exact same you prick.”

As Luca rounds the corner, he lets out a shaky breath but forces his face sober as he reaches Flint.

Flint, kindly, doesn’t mention Luca’s puffy eyes. “Are you ready to go?”

Luca nods, “Yes sir,” his voice is quieter and his eyes distant as he sniffs.

“Excellent,” he says and they start back up the hill to the cabin, leaving the cadets’ training camp behind. Luca clutches the photo in his pocket as he walks, and it feels like he’s taking a little bit of the goodness with him.

---

ROLL CALL MAGGOTS! (the tag-list): @whumplicity @creatureofstories @afternoonfairy @castell-da-near @funnymemedude @hiddencowboybarbarian @hueningplushie @fallenwaltz

(let me know if you wanna be added or removed!)

Co-story written by me and @chaotic-orphan

[chaotic-orphan]

Golden Boy (XII)

Read part one // Masterpost // Continued from Here

For the first time in like... a month (sorry) HAPPY FRICKEN LUCA DAY!!!

*****

“I knew it would be you causing trouble,” a warm voice says behind Luca.

Jet.

Luca’s eyes widen as he turns his head to face the Second Lieutenant, barely hearing the retreating footsteps of Lance and his group of cowards. He wants to cry with relief at the sound of his voice. Even though it was only a few days since he last saw Jet, it felt so much longer.

He gets to his feet. “Gods, I’m so relieved to see you,” he beams, the pain suddenly forgotten as he grabs Jet’s shoulder and pulls him in. Jet returns the hug, squeezing Luca tight.

“You little shit,” Jet says fondly, breathing out a sigh of relief, like he couldn’t believe he was seeing Luca again either.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Jet says then laughs. “I mean, as okay as you can be.” He pulls away and puts his hands on Luca’s shoulders looking him over to make sure he was actually okay before nodding to himself.

Luca lets out a laugh. “Thanks for that,” he says, turning his head to where Lance and his friends were. “Jealous pricks don’t want me here.” He laughs, biting his cheek as he tries to hide his guilt. “I told Flint that I was friends with the other cadettes.”

Jet hooks his arm around Luca’s shoulders and steers him towards the Lieutenants’ mess hall.

“Oh Yeah, Mr Popular over here. All those friendship fights, and fun fists to the face and best friend beatings. They don’t know you got promoted to Flint’s team. Nobody does. Flint’s quite… secretive about things like that. I was told to keep it quiet, so don’t you go running your mouth about it while you’re here, or I’ll give you some friendship fists to the face, got it?”

“Gods, I feel like his mistress with all the secrets.” Jet laughs and swats Luca, rolling his eyes.

“Why is it so secretive though?” Luca asks, relief flooding him at being brought to the lieutenants’ mess hall for lunch instead of the cadets one. It didn’t matter now though. He wasn’t a cadet here anymore, at least, not in the normal sense.  

They grab trays for food and get in line. “I don’t know,” Jet replies. “He’s not like other generals. He’s… different. I’ve only heard vague stories about him, but his achievements of him and his team are well known. He makes sure that news gets around.”

After they collect their lunch, they find a table alone towards the back of the room. Once they settle, Jet continues. “Flint is like a bold child – apparently – during meetings with high command. He demands things, like normal things, like better conditions and equipment for troops, and not just his team either, but he’s not afraid to speak his mind and I think that’s why a lot of people respect him. Then of course there’s the noble born generals that despise him because what he demands costs more of their family’s money,” Jet says, digging into the food.

Luca watches him, taking it in with a hum, “Well, shit. Yeah, he seems - interesting.” He glances around casually, making sure a certain lieutenant wasn’t around before looking back at Jet.

“Has he…” Jet begins but stops himself and tries again. “Has he been okay with you? He’s not like… mistreating you or anything?”

Luca smiles, “ah come on now, J, don’t be getting all soft on me now.” Jet laughs but Luca can sense the tension in him still. “He’s been good,” Luca adds, “we went on a fatherly run this morning.”

Jet kicks Luca under the table at the comment and smirks at him as he bites into his bread. “A fatherly run?” Jet repeats slowly, raising his brows. “He’s like a dad?” Jet blinks and sits back, confusion clear on his face. “What?”

“It was a joke dude, Gods, don’t tell me the lieutenants have made you lose your humour.”

 “You just think you’re all high and mighty now that you got into Flint’s team,” Jet teases good naturedly. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do around here. It’s been so quiet without a dark-haired little shit running around.”

Luca laughs, trying to push down the stinging in his chest. He smirks as he stabs his food with a fork. “Yeah, and I don’t know what I’ll do without some jackass ruining all my fun.”

Jet chuckles lightly. It fades as he looks up at Luca, his features sobering up to something too big that Luca didn’t want to acknowledge. “I’ll always be here for you Luca,” he says, his voice soft yet firm. “You know that. You’re like an annoying little brother to me, and I love you like one. And y’know… we’ll still get to see each other on family day. Or my mother will kill me,” he says with a wry grin as his black eyes meet Luca’s. “Just… I’m happy for you. I hope your new position will be good for you. I know it will. But yeah… just so you know…” Jet looks away and coughs, drumming his fingers on the table nervously.

Luca wants to make fun of him, try and laugh and make some joke to lighten the mood but he doesn’t find the words. He stabs his food, moving around his tray as his dying hunger. He clears his throat. “Thank you… for everything. I-I’m sorry for you know,” he pauses and a slow smirk spread across his face, green eyes glimmering, “giving you grey hair with stress.”

Jet’s head snaps to Luca and he slams his hands on the table before pointing a finger at the cadet. “I don’t have grey hair you little shit!”

Luca bursts out laughing. “Alright, tell your roots that, dude, not me.”

Jet kicks him under the table again. “I should have left you with the wolves,” he growls. “Tell your roots that,” Jet mocks in a high-pitched voice before scoffing and folding his arms across his chest. “My roots are picture perfect. Beautiful. Stunning. Gorgeous, how dare you. You little fuck.”

Luca laughs. “Oi, knock it off, gonna get god damn shin splints because of you!”

“Well then stop being a splint in my shin!” Jet yells back. Then he pauses. Considers what he said. “Wait, hold on, I meant—” Luca’s already laughing and Jet groans. He kicks him again. “Stop being an annoying little shit, that’s what I meant. Oh, you are just the worst. Y’know what, I would get grey hair with you. You’re like a toddler.”

Luca shakes his head with a laugh as he takes a bite of his food. “You know who I won’t miss? Lance, the prick.”

“Lance, god.” Jet says with a groan, running his hand down his face. “He’s been throwing his dick around since you’ve left, saying you were holding them all back and now they can actually get things done. Idiot.”

Jet goes for his water and pauses as he looks over Luca’s shoulder. “Huh. Speaking of pricks. Wonder what that’s about.”

Luca follows Jet’s gaze until his eyes settle on First Lieutenant Riley walking with Captain Daniels.

“Fuuuuck.” Luca winces, his back hunching as he tries to make himself discreet.

“Hey, it’s fine, they’ve already passed us, they won’t see you,” Jet tells him. His voice is so plain and certain that Luca can’t help but trust him. “What is it?” Jet asks when Luca turns back to face him. “Do you know what that’s about?”

But he’s not fine. It could be anything. Flint was meeting with Daniels today. What if he was meeting with him to investigate all the behavioural reports on Luca? Get the facts from the source of the accusers rather than reading them? Fuck. Why would Flint even do that? To see what he was working with? Was Flint having second thoughts in taking Luca? He can’t drop him now, surely. He couldn’t put him back in the cadets now?!

“Hey, Fletcher!” Jet says, suddenly beside Luca, his hand a reassuring weight on his shoulder. Luca’s eyes snap to his. “Why don’t we do something? Go somewhere off base.”

Luca startles slightly at the sudden presence. “Y-yeah, that sounds good,” he smiles, wishing Jet could just take him, protect him from the firsts, the cadets, the captains. Protect him if Flint really did change his mind.

“A couple of people are going to the lake, so that’s out,” Jet says, taking Luca’s reputation into account. “But we could head into town? Get that hot chocolate you love? It can be like a y’know…” like a proper goodbye goes unsaid as Jet pinches the back of his neck.

Luca smiles brightly, a sour taste in his mouth, eyes glistening. “Sounds good. I’d really like that.”

 “Good.” He starts messing up Luca’s hair until Luca slaps his hands away with a grin. “Alright,” he says, grabbing his tray to put away. “Come on.”

Luca grabs his tray and they both throw it in the pile of trays that built up by the food counter. As they step out, Luca’s eyes scan the perimeter, checking for Lance or one of the firsts. Jet walks beside Luca, seemingly oblivious to the threats that surround Luca here. “We can get one of the shuttles,” Jet says, slipping down one of the shortcuts towards the gates of camps.

“Oh, actually, I needed to stop by the bookstore too,” Jet says, “one of the captains recommended a book by—”

“Maybe you should do less reading and more working,” someone says, cutting Jet off mid-sentence. “Or maybe, less sucking up to the captains.”

The voice came from in front of Jet blocking the exit from the alley and he stops, his jaw ticking as he stares at the owner.

“Grant. Great. Nice to see ya pal, if you’ll excuse us.”

“Not so fast.” A hand clamps down on Luca’s shoulder, fingers digging into his collarbone. Luca glances behind him and sees another of Lieutenant Riley’s friends. He’s tall and broad, maybe the size of Luca and Jet standing side by side.

Luca’s eyes widen and he growls, instantly trying to pull the grip off of him, but he freezes as he sees the man. For fuck’s sake. “Leave us alone.” Luca growls, looking to Jet to see if he was okay.

“We just wanna ask some questions, Fletcher,” the brute says. Luca couldn’t remember his name. Thomas? Robert? Thombert? Something like that. He shoved Luca against the wall with his massive hand, almost knocking the breath from Luca’s lungs. Jet turns back and grabs the brute’s arm, trying to push him off but the brute didn’t move an inch. “Get off him! He’s just a fucking kid, what does he know?”

An arm snakes over Jet’s torso and Jet huffs out a snarl, pushing back against his attacker. “Calm down, Jetty-boo, we just wanna talk to the lad.”

“Fuck off! What do you wanna know anyways? You don’t have to hurt him to ask him a fucking question.”

“But he’s so pretty when he’s covered in cuts and bruises,” Grant coos.

Luca feels sick as he looks at Grant, trying to catch his breath. He tries to shove the brute off of him with a grunt, “Get off of me, prick!”

“You know what’s funny, Second Lieutenant?” Grant asks, holding Jet to his chest as he struggles. “Riley gets called to the Captain’s quarters the day this little waste of space appears in camp again. Ain’t that a coincidence, Albrecht?”

“Doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me,” the brute replies, flattening his hand on Luca’s chest and pushing against his ribs. Albrecht. That was his name. Luca knew it was something stupid.

“Look we have somewhere to be,” Jet growls. “So, if you’d just get to the fucking point so we can all move on, that’d be great.”

Luca wanted nothing more than to run to Jet, let him protect him and get him out of this. But at the same time, he wanted to be the hero, to knock Albrecht off of him and save Jet and himself the trouble. He wanted to be the strong one, for once.

He continues to fight against Albrecht, teeth bared.

“Let go! I swear to god I’ll kill you!”

Albrecht puts his free hand on Luca’s throat and picks him off the ground like he weighs nothing. Luca gasps and kicks his legs, trying to get the brute in the balls but he was standing too far away for Luca to reach. “For fuck’s sake just ask what you want!” Jet yells, throwing an elbow back at Grant and sweeping his legs from under him. Before he could reach Luca though another person slammed into Jet, tackling him at the hips and Jet went down. “He can’t—” Jet yelled between struggles of trying not to get his hands pinned. “—fucking answer if you’re- FUCK! Let him go!”

The other guy managed to pin Jet to the ground, putting his knees on Jet’s biceps and his hands on his wrists to keep him down. Grant steps over Jet and walks to Luca whose face is purple at this point and nods at Albrecht to let him down. Albrecht drops Luca but grabs him by the scruff of his shirt to keep him up, slamming him against the wall, knuckles digging into his collar bones.

“Why did Daniels want to talk to Riley all of a sudden, Fletcher?”

Luca splutters, coughing and wheezing as his words aimlessly flail. Oxygen floods into his lungs, making him dizzier and his hand wraps around the wrist of the hand holding him to steady himself. Breaths heavy and forced.

“Don’t… know…” he pants

“No?” Grant asks, grabbing Luca’s chin and tilting his head up to look Grant in the eyes, a pout on his lips. “You can’t think of any reason?”

Jet growls and struggles to get free. “Ugh! He said he doesn’t know and he doesn’t!”

Luca grits his teeth, breath still heavy. “I don’t f-ff’ckn’ know!” He growls, digging his nails into the skin of the man who held him. He doesn’t dare to look at Jet.

“Alright.” Grant says and lets go of Luca, strolling casually over to Jet.

“Fuck off Grant,” Jet growls, struggling to pulls his arms free of the other guy on him. Luca couldn’t see the other Lieutenant’s face from this angle.

“Hey…” Luca says, his voice cracking. “Hey. Lea-leave Jet alone. I don’t know! I don’t know why he’s talking to Riley I swear.”

Grant grins at Luca while he lifts the tip of his boot over Jet’s neck, hovering, the threat clear. “No? You can’t think of anything?”

Luca’s thrashing picks up. “I’m getting discharged!” He growls, hoping the lie sits so Jet won’t be hurt. “Okay?? Flint has to sign off on my discharge papers, that’s it! We just wanted to spend our last day together you prick!”

Grant pauses, and all eyes go to Luca. "What?"

Luca shoves against Albrecht's hand. "They're kicking me out, because of you lot, and fucking Riley's reports on me, so get the fuck off of me and let us go."

"It's the last time you'll ever see me, alright?!" he pants, his voice filling the alley. His eyes go to Jet’s for a moment, the look they share is quiet, but it says everything. Luca forces his eyes away, looking at grant, “let us go.”

Grant looks at Jet, before looking at Albrecht and nodding. Albrecht lets go of Luca and Luca jerks himself out of his grip. He gets to the guy on top of Jet and yanks him off with a huff. Grant puts his hand up to stop the other from attacking Luca.

"Let them go," he says as Luca helps Jet up. "You can happily wave him off. The last time we ever have to beat up the little shit."

Luca doesn’t move until Jet does and they walk away swiftly. Luca’s heartbeat thrummed in his ears as his footsteps matches Jet’s. Jet doesn't speak until they are clear of the gates and waiting at the stop for the shuttles into town.

"Luca, I'm sorry. I tried to get him off you," he says, his voice filled with guilt.

“Huh? Why are you apologizing?” He laughs lightly but he can still feel the grip around his neck. He thought he was going to die in the hands of that monster.

Before Jet can answer though, Luca pats him lightly on the back. “C’mon, let’s not let those bastards ruin our day.”

Jet tries for a smile, running a hand through his hair before he grins genuinely. "Yeah. You're right," he says with a sigh. "Fucking arseholes. You really saved my ass back there," he says, beaming at Luca. he messes up his hair again with a laugh. "For once."

Luca laughs with him but can't help leaning into the touch. “Yeah yeah, don’t say I never did anything for ya."

*****

To Be Continued

ROLL CALL MAGGOTS! (aka the tag-list): @imgoingtobiteyounow @whumplicity @creatureofstories @afternoonfairy @castell-da-near @funnymemedude @hiddencowboybarbarian @hueningplushie @fallenwaltz

HELLO HELLO!!! I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY, IT WAS MY FAULT, I was not in the headspace for uploading stuff in February and then @whumpasaurus101 beat me within an inch of my life and I have been healing in hospital ever since (/j) but seriously, February was just crazy but I AM BACK NOW and this series will go back to its regularly scheduled Friday uploads. :)

Co-story written by me and @whumpasaurus101

Thank you for your patience guys :)

[randomhighschoolrpg]

Angry Unicorns

[chaotic-orphan]

Golden Boy (IV)

Read part one // Masterpost // continued from here

Oh my gosh, so sorry for the delay, this was entirely my fault, @whumpasaurus101 beat me with a stick until I finished mmhm, I'm sorry, I wanted this part to be perfect BECAUSE THIS IS THE INTRO OF MY BOY OH HON HON HON!!!!!!!! ENJOY!!!

*****

“Jet.” Luca says as Jet steps out of Captain Daniels' office. Jet doesn't answer. “Jet. I didn't know-”

“Stop, Luca, please, you're making this harder for the two of us,” Jet hisses into Luca's ear as he marches him back through the halls to the entrance of the building. He turns right, walking down a dimly lit hall towards the back of the Admin building towards two heavy wooden doors. Jet stops outside the doors for a moment, collecting himself, fixing his uniform. Luca thought it smart to do the same, but there was nothing he could do to hide the bloodstains on his shirt. He swallows as he glances at Jet.

Jet knocks on the door- three raps with his knuckles, opening the door when he hears a grunt of approval. Inside, sat General Castor Flint, sitting upright behind a large, mahogany desk, just about as imposing as the man himself. He was in his mid-to-late forties, salt and pepper hair cut neatly against his head, but longer than Luca expected, swept back away from his face that was tanned from years of being on the field. His shoulders were broad, a shadow of a beard coated his jaw and around his lips which were in a straight, unimpressed line. He wore a pair of rectangular reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose and looked from a file at the pair when they entered. Overcast, stormy grey eyes found Luca, scanning his face with interest, before flicking to Jet. Jet clears his throat quietly. “General Flint, this is-”

Flint holds up a hand, silencing Jet instantly, gaze flicking back to Luca. It felt like an assault on his senses, and Luca felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “I know who this is. Thank you, Second Lieutenant. You are dismissed.”

Jet hesitates on the spot for a moment, not wanting to leave Luca by himself with the man but as Flint's eyes raise to meet his, a shiver slides down Jet's spine. He forces himself out of his mind, nodding once as he refuses to make eye contact with Luca; the guilt too strong as he bows his head and quickly leaves.

The tenseness in Luca's shoulders only increased at the sound of the door clicking shut behind him. Flint was too occupied to notice, eyes cast down to his desk, flipping a page. The General was dressed in black camo, as opposed to the usual green, dressed casually and yet somehow Luca knew that he would be ready to jump into battle on a second's notice. After a long beat of waiting for the General to speak, Luca looks down at the table to see what interested Flint so much and stiffens slightly, his file. His military file that has almost — if not every piece of information on him.

“Luca Fletcher,” Flint hums thoughtfully as his finger's thrum against the dark mahogany table. “Really quite the record you have yourself here. In and out of foster homes since you were a kid. Some for bad behaviour, others for disappearing at all hours, others for starting fights with your foster family…”

Luca sets his jaw hard as Flint reads through his history as if it was a simple bedtime story.

“You weren't very successful in school either, were you?” Flint hums like a disappointed parent. Luca knew that tone — it was intended to hurt him — to get him riled up and it was bloody working. He tightens his hands into fists behind his back and bites his cheek to keep silent.

“Skipping classes,” he tuts as he flips the page, “Disrupting classmates and teachers. Failing,” Flint stares at the page pointedly, “all of your exams- you do know you get points for writing your name, right?”

Oh, Luca was going to kill that bastard.

“It says here you're highly skilled, but I'll be honest, Fletcher, it's hard to believe that when-” he brings out a whole new file. Double the size of Luca's. It thuds on the wood with its weight and Flint chuckles, “there seems to be a few behaviour issues here. You seem to be a ticking time bomb, cadet.” Flint leans back in his chair, removing his glasses with crisp precision; grabbing them by the bridge, and snapping the arms closed before setting them down on the desk in front of him. Pale eyes flash to Luca's. “Tell me,” he leans back in his chair, intertwining his fingers over his stomach, “why are you still here?”

Luca shrugs, eyes darting around the room, “Dunno. I have skill, potential—”

“For a cadet,” Flint interrupts, slowly getting out of his chair, the leather creaking with the motion, approaching Luca with confident sure strides. “There's not a speck of manners in you, is there, boy?”

Luca looks at him, eyes boring into the man as he studies every scar— every wrinkle on the man's face. A jagged, faded scar runs across the man's cheek to the corner of his lips, made more noticeable when he smirks. Wrinkles fold into his skin, but they are soft, most gathered by his forehead probably from all his frowning- Luca thinks to himself but he's brought out of his trance as the man circles Luca, taking him in like prey.

“Straighten your back.”

The command was short, but Luca's eyes snapped to the man. “Wh-what?”

Flint's hands shot out, one hand going to the cadet's chest and the other to his spine, roughly straightening Luca's posture as he hums approvingly. “It's an awful pet peeve of mine… never sits well with me when a man — no doubt a man in uniform — has incorrect posture.”

Luca gulps, his lower back already aching slightly but he doesn't have time to focus on it as the general continues to speak.

“You are a mess. I'm looking at you for under a minute and I can already see innumerable faults; those creases in your shirt, the blood stains painting the fabric, the dry bloodstains on your skin make you look idiotic and don't get me started on that mess of a nest you call your hair.”

Luca blinks, slightly in shock as he looks dumbfound at the general. Did he just insult his hair? “What…?”

“You think you deserve a higher rank than a cadet? I'll give you my honest opinion, Fletcher. You best be damn grateful I wasn't in charge of the cadets, because I wouldn't have let you through the opening ceremony.”

Anger boils hot in Luca's chest burning.

“Go on,” Flint says, raising a brow, challenging. “Look at you, already two minutes in and you cannot control your anger.”

Luca clenches his jaw, gritting his teeth to the point where it felt like they could crumble under pressure. He was more than a cadet, he fought better- he was stronger, this bastard had no right to undermine him!

Flint chuckles, patting Luca's cheek with a heavy hand before returning back to his desk, military boots thudding against the wooden panelling of the floor. Luca is left standing there, desperately trying to cling onto any ounce of control that he had.

“You have no discipline, Fletcher. And no compliance. Your behaviour is worse than a child's screaming at a fair. Without these attributes, you will never be a good soldier.” His cold eyes rise to meet Luca's. “That's why you've been sent to me. From now on, I will be taking over your training, cadet.”

Luca's eyes blew wide. “What? But you can’t do that!”

Flint responds with a chuckle, retrieving two pieces of paper from a file before sliding them across the desk with three fingers, eyes trained on Luca. Luca felt his gaze bore into his skull as he stepped forward to the table and glanced at the two orders in front of him.

“This is a transfer order from Captain Daniels,” Flint said in his rumbling voice. He moved his fingers to the second paper. “Which was approved by the Major General. This is an honour, Fletcher, especially for someone like you. You are lucky they didn't give up on you because if it were up to me? I'd have you gone in a heartbeat.” “Lucky?” Luca scoffs, taking a step forward, unable to control his anger raging through him. “I am one of the most skilled cadets—”

“Watch your tone, Fletcher,” Flint warns, raising an eyebrow as he looks up at the cadet, and Luca listened. “I am the one in control of you now, I make the decisions. Now fix that damn posture along with that attitude, before I have to go over and fix them both for you.”

Luca bites his cheek, his eyes burning a glare into Flint's skull, but he straightened and kept his mouth pressed firmly in a thin line.

“This is only the beginning, cadet, but I swear that I will make you an excellent soldier worthy of your potential. You can choose to either work with me, or against me, but the end will remain the same,” Flint tells him with such certainty as if he was predicting the future and reading the facts. “You will burn as bright as the stars,” he says, his expression darkening, “or you will burn out, but burn you will, boy."

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

Thanks for reading! Me and @whumpasaurus101 are so FRICKEN PROUD OF THIS, we love it so much, it is our baby - and don't worry, the whump, oh the whump is imminent hehehe

Golden-Boy-tag-list: @imgoingtobiteyounow @whumplicity @creatureofstories @afternoonfairy (lmk if you wanna be added/removed!)

[chaotic-orphan]

Golden Boy (II)

Read part one here

This is a story I’m co-writing with @whumpasaurus101 featuring military whump, an angry, defiant whumpee, lots of manhandling and corrections to our Whumpee’s less than exemplary behaviour😌 updates will be regular as we have written quite a bit ahead of publishing and we have been very excited to share hehe, enjoy!!

New parts/chapters will be posted alternating between me and @whumpasaurus101 ‘s accounts every Friday!!!

*~*~*~*~*

Luca stepped out of the shower when the water turned cold, a mess of dark hair over his forehead peeked out through the fogged glass of the mirror as he dried, dressed and went out for dinner. He had to walk past the Cadet’s mess hall to get to the Lieutenants' tent, where Jet and his friends would be. People that could actually tolerate Luca. Though Jet probably already ate and disappeared again, it was worth the trek through the lantern-lit campsite alley.

“–mad dog,” a voice sneered as Luca rounded the corner onto the Cadets' quarter. “He’s incorrigible, and he’s going to get dishonourably discharged if he isn’t careful.”

“They won’t discharge Fletcher,” a familiar voice huffed, disdain clear in his tone. Lance. That prick. “He’s the higher-ups saviour, their golden boy. A genius they haven’t seen the likes of since Flint was a cadet.”

“Fletcher isn’t another Flint,” someone guffawed. “Flint could at least get through a sparring session without trying to rip someone’s face off.”

“Maybe he should get a better face,” Luca said with a smirk as he stepped into the light of the mess hall tent. He tilted his head to the side, leaning casually as his cold green eyes locked on Lance’s bandaged, black and purple nose. “One that wouldn’t offend me and make me want to hurl at the sight of it.”

“Yeah whatever, Fletcher." Lance replied, slightly taken aback by Fletcher's sudden appearance but he covers it quickly. "You’re lucky that your saviour was there to step in before things got messy for you."

“Messy… for me? Says the one who went crying to the liutenant about a bruised nose," Luca replied with a scoff, muttering under his breath, "Fucking baby…"

Lance shot up, his chest puffed out. “Alright, you want round two, Fletcher? Remind me, who won the first round again?”

“Fine by me,” Luca’s lip curled back and rolled up his sleeves. The other cadets in the hall started stomping their feet, and banging fists on the tables at the makings of a fight. Within a minute, the benches were pushed back to create a makeshift ring in the centre of the tent. Emerald eyes devoid of warmth scanned the room, looking for a familiar head of black hair, but he couldn’t find Jet in the crowd of onlookers. Well… good. He’d probably try to stop him anyways.

“Go on, Lance! Knock him on his back again.” One of Lance's friends jeered as Lance stepped into the ring. Luca’s arctic gaze settled on the other cadet, vowing the next time he fought him he would make sure the bastard had to be scraped off the ground. He was towards the end of the class ranking anyways.

Luca stepped into the empty space of the mess hall. “Personally, I think your nose looks better like that. All bandaged up, hidden from the world… let's keep it that way, hm?"

Before Luca could even raise his fists, Lance was on him. The right hook sent him stumbling backwards but he quickly caught his footing, his eyes hardening before he spun, kicking Lance hard in his previously bruised ribs.

"You dont know when to stop, do you?" Lance huffed.

"This is a fight, not a god damn tea party,” Luca snapped, jabbing at Lance’s gut who danced just out of reach. “Quit yapping and start fighting."

"Alright, you asked for it."

Before he finished the sentence Lance snapped forward and grabbed a fistful of Luca's training shirt, hauling him forward before kneeing Luca hard in the stomach- but he didn't allow the cadet to fall. He kept Luca up with a rough hand against the shoulder before whispering, "too bad there's no sand bags to haul you over. Looks like you've gotten yourself a losing streak."

Luca let out a loud growl, channeling all of his energy into his body as he shoved Lance backwards. Lance, caught off gaurd, tripped back a step. Luca took this opening, tackling the man to the ground. There was a rumble as the two bodies rolled on the ground, neither of them giving up any ground.

At one point Luca was straddled, his wrist grabbed and Lance slowly began to bend it back. Luca cried out, other hand flying to Lance's as he desperately tried to pry it off.

"I could have you out for a season Fletcher, heard a wrist injury takes an age to heal…" Lance snarled as Luca cried out from the strain, feeling something shift but his instincts kicked in before going for his favourite spot. His free hand quickly snapped hard into Lance's liver, taking this his opportunity as he flips the man before his fists rain down brutally on Lance's face, his body, any piece he could hit.

It was like deja vu. Except this time Luca had less control over himself than before; the pain in his wrist forgotten. All he cared about was proving himself. The other cadets watched him lose- there was no way that would happen again. He wanted to send a message to Lance and his gang of sycophants; don't fucking mess with him. He was the highest skilled cadet on site but constantly overlooked. He had had emough.

"Luietenant!" A cadet warned but Luca didn't hear. The only sound he focused on was the dwindling cries of the man under him as Lance clawed at his arms, desperately fighting against him.

He was quickly jolted from his haze as hands grabbed him. A flash of black hair in the corner of his eyes.

Jet.

"Get off of me!" Luca roared, shoving Jet's grip off of him as he lunged towards Lance one more but he crumpled to the floor with a cry as Jet punched him hard across the face, instantly sobering him.

The thud echoed through the hall as everyone fell silent.

Luca stared at Jet in shock, quickly getting to his feet but Jet stepped into him, grabbing him by a fistful of his shirt, "Out, Fletcher."

"But-"

"Out."

Luca gulped, he had never seeing Jet like this. He hangs his head before walking out, shoving past other cadets who were in his way.

When Jet stormed out, all Luca saw was rage.

"Are you bloody stupid?" Jet growled, shoving Luca hard against the wall. Luca jerked forward ready to protest, but Jet slammed him back, pinning him against the wall with a forearm across his chest. "No- no, Luca. You don't get to fucking speak. I can't keep sticking up for you like this! You're not the only one who gets into trouble!"

And for once, Luca shut his mouth, anger forgotten for a moment as he looked up into Jet's eyes.

"Fuck!" Jet yells, raking a shaky hand through his hair. "Now- now I have to report this to the lieutenants! Hell, they might even take this to the captain! I mean, come on Luca! You're gonna get your ass demoted!"

Silence stretched between the two men before Luca rasped out quietly, "I'm- I'm sorry-"

"Is there a problem here?" The two men froze at the sound of a lieutenant's voice. "Little Fletcher seems to have gotten himself into some trouble again, hm?"

Luca clenched his jaw tight, eyes not meeting the lieutenant's but he knew who it was; the Liutenant from training. The one who distracted him and allowed Lance to get the upper hand. Prick.

"Thought I told you to get him in check.”

Luca's eyes quickly moved to the Lieutenant. "It's not his fault, he's not my goddamn babysitter!"

But the lieutenant ignored him, eyes boring into Jet's. "Take him to the captain's tent, his behaviour has gone unchecked for too long. This is clearly out of our hands now." Nobody moved as the words settled heavily over the pair, Luca's eyes narrowed, Jet's horribly blank. The lieutenant leaned in and smiled. "Dismissed, Second Lieutenant."

Jet clenched his jaw but nodded- refusing to disobey as he grabbed Luca by the arm and threw him in front of him, planting a hand on his shoulder before he began leading him to the Captain's building. He tried to ignore the feeling of Luca resisting against him, a silent plea, but Jet could still feel it.

Luca couldn't believe what was happening right now. Jet was leading him away from the cadets quarters; away from the mess hall where Lance was probably still on the ground, away from the lake, away from the hills with the wolves, away from everything and leading him towards the Section Captain's building. He swallowed and dug his heels as Jet forced him round the corner and the giant stone building at the end of the lane came into view.

"J-Jet… wait, wait! I didn't- you never told me-"

"Just keep walking, Cadet."

"Jet!" Luca protested and tried to turn, but Jet caught him by the scruff of his neck and pointed him forwards again. "I- I'm sorry, I… I didn't- ngh, know!"

Jet didn't reply. Luca swallowed thickly as Jet marched him on in silence, his heart pounding against his temples. He couldn't— he didn't— he didn't think that the First Lieutenants were actually bossing Jet around like that, forcing him to look over Luca and make sure he didn't get into trouble. If he had known he would have behaved, he would have been good and mannerly and not started fights or…

Why didn't Jet just tell him? He didn't understand. Unless they told Jet to keep silent, to not speak to Luca, to not let him know he was being monitored like that. Surely that wasn't the only reason that Jet was always there, always around to help Luca or break up a fight when he got into trouble, right?

Jet cared about him, genuinely. Surely… right? But the Jet marching him roughly through camp right now was somebody Luca had never seen before, never known… Luca tried to remember the last time he saw Jet not happy or joking and could barely recall a handful of times. This was wrong, this was all wrong and it was Luca's fault.

Guilt swirled like a coil of rope around his throat, tying his vocal cords together as he let Jet push him to the Captains house in the barracks, the administration block, hoping that the Jet he knew and loved would return before the day was up.

*****

Next update:

Golden-Boy-Tag-list (lmk if you wanna be added or removed ^.^): @imgoingtobiteyounow @whumplicity

General tag-list (in case youse are interested): @sunflower1000

[chaotic-orphan]

Golden Boy (VI)

Read part One // Master-post // Continued from here

Would you look at that? It's Friday guys... mmhm, friday, I am not late... ahem, Lee... why do you have a baseball bat? LEE?! WAI-WAIT-WAIT!- *posts chapter*

*****

Luca swallows uneasily as he continues to follow Flint into the denser part of the forest. There’s no trail here or beaten path and Luca’s legs burn as he trudges behind Flint up the steep incline. Cold air stings his throat and lungs with every breath, as the rain pelts him from above. The pack on his back, with all of his belongings in this world, is heavy on his shoulders as they climb. The rain added an extra fun element of terror as slick leaves carpet the forest floor and the mud under becomes slippery. Luca’s legs and arms were already covered in dirt from falling a couple times. Flint doesn’t slow his pace or even look back at Luca, he merely said: “on your feet, cadet,” and continued on.

Flint walks with the same purposeful strides that he did on flat ground, like he’s walking along the pavilion in the capital. Luca wanted to kill him. Is he even breathing heavy? Luca doesn’t know. He could barely hear the sounds of animals or the twigs crunching underfoot because of the heaviness of his own breath reflecting on the air like shards of frosted glass.

“Keep up, Cadet,” Flint calls, his voice carrying smoothly over the expanse of thin air.

“You try and carry all your things and tell me to keep up,” Luca grumbles under his breath.

“Soldiers don’t mumble, Fletcher.” Flint says.

But more important than a retort was the flat that Luca came upon and his knees almost buckled in relief at seeing a log cabin in the distance. It would still be a few minutes of a walk, but Luca doesn’t care now that the end was in sight. And at the fact that Flint was not taking him deep into the woods to murder him without witnesses.

Luca blew his breath up to lift any hair, that wasn’t cemented against his forehead with sweat and rain, out of his eyes. Beads of liquid flick away from his face and join the rain as it falls, doing nothing to dry his face. At least the rain was cold, which was nice on his skin and neck, but his clothes soaked him to the bone. He wants nothing more than to just lie down and sleep. His pace quickens as the shelter grows closer and closer. This training t-shirt did nothing to keep him warm, instead, the fabric clung to his skin as he walked, boots occasionally slipping as they travelled.

“Gods, they hate you that much that they keep you this far out?” Luca asks with a scoff. Flint doesn’t reply as he walks to the door and unlocks it, holding it open for Luca to follow through.

“Me?” Flint asks, raising a brow as he looks around the cabin. “This is the safest distance we thought that would keep you out of trouble. Far away from civilisation.”

Flint’s voice has a lilt to it. The longer he speaks, the more it comes through. Though his words are clear and his voice smooth, there’s something that softens his bluntness.

Luca just grunts in response, eyes roaming around the inside of the cabin. From the door where he stands, there’s a large living space, with an old, green clothed couch and two armchairs positioned around an open fire that matches the colour of moss desperately clinging to trees. Straight ahead he can see through to the kitchen, and there’s three more doors leading off from the living room. Two on the left, and one on the right. He dumps his bag hard on the ground, rolling his shoulders as he winces, his back aching as he stretches. “Right so how’s this gonna work, this some sort of romcom book where there’s only one bed and we have to share it?”

“There are adequate bedding arrangements,” Flint says slowly, brows pinching in confusion. He blinks at Luca a few times before he disappears from the main room of the cabin, down towards the kitchen, and rustles around inside it, cabinet doors opening and closing. “Are you thirsty, cadet?”

Luca slumps down in one of the armchairs with a groan. “Yeah, fuckin parched.” He ruffles his hand through his hair, hoping to get as much rain out of his hair as he could, feeling like a bloody wet dog.

“Excellent,” Flint says as he returns from kitchen with a large bucket. “The well is just three kilometres west of the cabin. It’s a straight shot. You shouldn’t miss it.”

Flint walks over to Luca and drops the bucket in his lap.

Luca grunts from the weight of the bucket hitting against him. He pauses looking between the bucket and the general. “You’re not serious. You drag me all this way, out to the middle of bloody nowhere and then get me to go to the well like I’m some olden days maiden? Put the bucket outside for two minutes and it will be full of bloody rain.” He throws the bucket across the room. The bucket clatters to the ground before rolling to a stop against the wood of the walls, and a thick silence follows.

Flint stares at Luca for a solid minute in silence. For the first couple of seconds Luca stares up in defiance. But the stare continues and it seems to puncture his skin and root around his veins, searching for any weaknesses, climbing into his skull as if he could read his thoughts and find every rotten thing about him. It makes him squirm internally, and Luca wants to look away but refuses. He sets his eyes into a narrow stare of his own and matches Flint’s.

After what felt like years of deathly silence, Flint says, “there was one more form I was meant to show you.” He walks to the small coffee table between the couches and the fireplace and retrieves the manila folder with Luca’s transfer forms.

“I didn’t think it would be necessary so early on, but…” he continues as he returns to Luca and hands him the form.

The words Discharge Papers in bold, black lettering on the top of the page catches Luca’s eyes and his mouth goes dry.

“Should you refuse to participate in any of the tasks I set you, I will write this up and you will be discharged from the army without honours. Effective immediately.”

It takes everything in the cadet to keep his hand still, not to shake. He shoves the papers back against the general’s chest before standing up, snatching the bucket and storming outside, slamming the door shut behind him, anger plummeting through his veins as he storms off to the direction the well.

Discharge papers. Discharge papers… he- he wouldn’t. Flint couldn’t! The army was all – Luca’s hands shake – from anger or fear or shock, he doesn’t know – so he tightens his grip until his knuckles burn white around the handle. When he’s far enough away from the cabin he puts his forearm against a tree and lets out a bellowing, from the chest: “FUCK!”

Why him? Why is only he getting punished? What about Lance? And his pack of dickheads, what about the fucking lieutenants who made his life hell as a cadet? They probably didn’t even report his scores properly because– FUCK! This isn’t fair. Why him? Why did he always have to be the unlucky one?

Hot water trickles down his cheeks mixing with the icy drops of rain that patter down relentlessly on his head. His bottom lip wobbles as he tries to get himself together, to- to hold himself together but seeing those papers… how serious Flint was about giving them to him. Somehow Luca knew that the General would make good on his threat if Luca disobeyed or didn’t behave and he wanted to be sick.

Nausea climbs thick up his throat. Luca drops the bucket; hands braced on his knees and doubles over retching out the contents of his stomach. Nothing but bile and acid come out, stinging and tearing at his throat. He gags a little as he straightens up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and spitting on the forest floor. He swallows, trying to rid himself of the acidic burn in his mouth as he grabs the bucket. Water. He needed water.

Halfway to the well he realises he didn’t even get dinner today and realises he’s starving. That swim was a stupid idea… and training hard all morning with Jet. This day just couldn’t get any fucking worse, could it?

Luca pours the first bucket of water from the well straight into his mouth, before lowering the rope and pulling up more to fill the bucket to bring back to the house. The bastard could wait for a drink, Luca thought mutinously, let him suffer for a change.

When Luca returns with a bucket full of water, covered in new patches of dirt on his arms, knees and boots, Flint is sitting in front of the roaring fire. He removed his coat, left it hanging up neatly, dressed in just a long sleeve shirt now. His hair was freshly washed and his reading glasses on while he overlooks some files.

“Ah, you found it then,” he comments as Luca comes in. “Excellent. Your orientation scores weren’t listed on your records, so I had to check. You can set it down in the kitchen and then have a shower.”

Luca practically thumps the bucket on the ground, resisting the urge to throw it down. He grumbles, eyes set to a glare as he takes in how well-groomed the man in front of him was – no doubt warm from the fire as Luca stood there, mud, rain, and water from the well dripping from him as he shakes from the cold. “What, do I have to get water for the fucking shower too?” He snaps.

“No,” Flint says without looking up from his documents. “We have running water here, it’s just not clean enough to drink. The water’s warm too. So, I advise you do that before you get hypothermic.”

Luca goes to move but then pauses. He hates the idea of Flint reading every detail about him, thinking he can know Luca from what he read from a file. A file that was filled out by people who hated him, who wanted to see him fail. How is that fair? And what sort of things were in it? What had they noted down about him? There were definitely things that Luca forgot about himself, that Flint was just leisurely reading through, as if he was a character in a fucking novel.

“Your room is the door to your right, cadet.” Luca just nods and goes into the room, shutting the door behind him. On the bed are new tracksuit bottoms and a training shirt, new jocks and socks neatly laid out along with a towel. Luca grabs them and walks out, crossing the cabin to – what he hoped was – the bathroom. Luckily, he guessed right.

After figuring out how to work the shower, he strips his soaking clothes and dumps them into a basket in the corner of the bathroom. As he steps in, he sighs as the hot water pellets against his skin, harder than the rain, as if it was trying to undo all the shit he went through today, easing the tension slowly from his body. He practically melts into the heat, closing his eyes. He hasn’t taken a hot shower like this… ever really… and it’s so nice, soothing, not at all like the cold showers in the cadets’ quarters and the pressure was a welcomed weight, not too hard or soft.

Fuck this day. Fuck Flint and Captain Daniels and the fucking lieutenants, but for the shower, this beautiful, magnificent shower, he would go through today again. And Luca was going to stay under the spray of water until he felt the stress wash off him and trickle down the drain.

*****

ROLL CALL MAGGOTS! (aka, the tag-list): @imgoingtobiteyounow @whumplicity @creatureofstories @afternoonfairy @castell-da-near (lmk if you wanna be added/removed)

ALSO IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY, LOOK AT THE FRICKEN MASTER-POST, @whumpasaurus101 MADE A BRILLIANT COLLAGE OF THE VIBES OF THE STORY AND RAGGHHH I LOVE IT SM!!!!

[randomhighschoolrpg]

Brothers to the last breath