#wonder what mission 501st is going on now? *coughumbaracough*

[trudemaethien]

Hi! The random generators (even if I had to use a different one for the words) gave me Hardcase/Comet and evanescent shoe.

Beautiful.

“Nah, that guy’s called Comet because he leaves behind a deceptively sparkly trail of icy debris in his wake. You don’t want to go after him, Hardcase.”

“Maybe I’d like to chase that tail, though,” Hardcase says, staring after the path Comet’s circling around the dance floor. He’s soon lost in the swirling, gyrating throng.

“Torrent pup thinks he want to try and run with wolves?” one of the Wolfpack teases, draping himself over the back of their booth. This is the silver-haired one, and he looks eerie under the colorful lights. His grin has more teeth than are strictly friendly, but he is grinning and slouching and talking to them, so Hardcase smiles back cheerily.

“Sounds like an exhilarating good time,” he says, and across the table Jesse mouths (Sinker) at him, so he adds, “You wanna introduce me, Sinker? I’ll wag my tail and everything; only bite for play.”

Sinker throws back his head and laughs. “Only because I think Comet would get a kick out of you. Come on; what am I introducing you as…Bold, Terror, Audacity?”

“It’s Hardcase.”

Sinker laughs harder, chest shaking against Hardcase’s bicep as he guides them through the crowd. He lets go and gives Hardcase a shove, making him trip and stumble right into the arms of—he looks up and it’s who he asked to meet, Comet, looking down at him bewildered and then up at his smirking brother.

“I brought you a squeaky toy,” Sinker says smugly. “Comet, Hardcase; Hardcase, Comet.”

Comet looks at him again, amused and puzzled. “You…squeak?” Hardcase gets his feet back under himself and straightens his fatigue blouse.

“Bet, if you bite him,” Sinker teases, shoving them together again as he passes them to leave. “Have fun; save the pieces!”

At least Hardcase didn’t trip this time.

“Hi,” he says, “I did not ask him to say that.”

“No, I know; sorry my brother thinks he’s funny.” But Comet looks like he thought it was pretty entertaining too, and his smile has the same sort of teeth as Sinker’s had. No wonder people call the Wolfpack feral.

Hardcase glances over where Jesse and Fletch had been and doesn’t see them, and then feels the sharp pinch of teeth on his neck, and a swipe of warm wet tongue between them. He does make an embarrassingly high noise, and Comet’s snickering becomes giggling becomes full-blown laughter.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says unrepentantly, eyes glittering with glee, and that’s it. This is one grenade these wolves have tried to cook off just a moment too karking long.

Hardcase reels him in and kisses his laughing mouth with more teeth than is nice, and apparently that’s exactly the way these lunatics like it. Comet groans and gives back as good as he’s getting.

Hardcase can’t say he doesn’t like it, himself.

He’s not exactly sure how they get back to the barracks, since it’s hard to observe your surroundings with someone in your face; it’s a blur of making out and moving on autopilot.

The Wolfpack survivors had been given smaller quarters, and it seems they remain in them while regaining battalion strength and retraining all their new arrivals. It’s there that they land. No one else is in, and there’s not a whole lot of discussion why or who’s where, only less and less clothing and more and more enthusiastic touching.

It’s very nice, even if Comet’s a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy. Hardcase feels lucky to have gotten to know him like this. He’s a lot of fun, joking and teasing and wrestling.

Telling Comet this turns into round number—are they counting? Nope, they have better things to be doing.

<><>

Hardcase checks the chrono and curses with lighthearted annoyance. “I have formation. Wish I could stay.” He sits up and starts sorting through the mess of fatigues on the floor to separate his out.

“Mmm, I’ll keep the bed warm for you,” Comet says, tracing fingers over his hip and up the line of his tattoo on his back.

Hardcase turns and catches his hand, kissing his knuckles and tucking it away where it can’t start anything else they don’t have time to finish. “I’ll probably have detail all morning, and resupply after midmeal. This evening?”

“We’re taking night watch all this next week,” Comet says regretfully.

“And we leave in two days,” Hardcase adds, further dampening the mood.

“If this is goodbye, come tell me properly,” Comet pulls him in, and kisses him until he’s too distracted to think of being sad.

“Wasn’t it, uh, zero-eight for your formation?” Comet asks against his lips, “because it’s quarter-til.”

“Kriff,” Hardcase says with feeling, and scrambles to his feet. “Where’s my belt, cap…” he mumbles, patting himself down and looking around to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. “Toss me my other shoe, by the bed?”

Comet wings it at him, and Hardcase barely catches it, turning into the throw with an involuntary shout. Comet, still tangled in his sheets, is cracking up, so Hardcase flings it back at him to shut him up, and immediately regrets it as Comet tucks the shoe under himself and looks prepared to defend it with the utmost shenanigans.

“Hey, no, I need that! Come on, Comet.”

“No, I think I’m keeping this now,” Comet drawls.

“Hhheckkk. Please give it back? I’m already going to be late; you’re going to make me be out of uniform too? And I just got done dealing with the assholes in requisitions,” Hardcase wheedles.

“Take one of mine,” Comet says nonchalantly kicking the lid off his half-slid-out under-bunk kit box. His boot-shoes, worn with both armor and with fatigues are right on top. “Maybe it’ll help you keep your feet.”

Hardcase pauses, instantly more serious. “You’re giving me a piece of your shell?” he asks carefully, reining back his sudden eager interest.

“You did it first,” Comet says easily, but his smile says he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Keep my paint clean, you hear?”

There’s a thin stripe of grey around the edge of the sole. Hardcase’s boots are still unpainted. He hadn’t been joking about just having to draw new ones from supply after his last set had gotten damaged.

“I’ve still got to paint mine,” Hardcase says. “I can do it next time I see you?”

“Yeah,” Comet says, hugging his pillow. “I’d like that.”

Chasing Tail 🔒 https://archiveofourown.org/works/51903022