Screw Rules

Deepest Desires

(Inspired by the episode: 'The Lost Treasure of The Golden Squirrel.')

It had been a week. A week since Skipper had been able to look at Rico with a straight face after the realization that deep down in the darkest corner of his soul he without knowing had hidden the softest spot he had; the love for his sergeant. Honestly looking back on it, he thought it was a stupid way to find out he was in love, staring into the red eyes of a golden squirrel shaped head attached to a key was pretty lame. But the hallucination was more then he could have ever dreamt of...

He flew through speeds unimaginable, the wind whipping dangerously around him as the biggest missile he could find carried him through the starry night skies. It was the joyride of a lifetime, and when the fuse to it lost all power he jumped into the air, free falling down to what was a never ending military base of nothing but equipment and a unlimited supply of glorious weapons, all at his disposal.

Thousands of armored tanks lined in rows that went further then he could see, huge hangers dedicated to old and new aircraft, and most importantly, the biggest structure he'd ever seen for a command center where he could take charge of it all. But when the missile hit the ground, exploding up in astounding heights with a blinding light it gushed forth its power through a crazed wind force, the shockwave shaking threateningly at the area below his very feet, yet he stood amazed. Oblivious to the dangers as the last person he was expecting walked out from amongst the ashes.

The blazing of furious flames were far from over, yet a startling hush suddenly fell over the land as the whirling dusts settled, stars flickering above him as he held his breath in anticipation. His eyes widened as his sergeant stepped forth, the most psychotic expression plastered over his face Skipper had ever witnessed, blood dripping down from his wing tips, and the scar over his beak freshly opened in a steam of red fluids that ran down his sleek shining feathers.

Skipper had to call out, get to his soldier, yet his body stood stiff as if he was paralyzed by Rico's shocking appearance. His heart beating against his rib cage, begging to reach him frantically. Yet when he saw Rico's expression twist in discomfort and seriousness he dropped to his knees, flippers planting themselves in the dirt that still shook angrily.

It was terrifying, he felt scared for his life, trapped like a sitting duck waiting for it's demise. But when he felt the ginger touch of a flipper lifting his chin his heart fluttered, tingles dancing down his spine in delight, it was comforting yet the sudden feeling of giddiness was bubbling up within him. "Rico?" He whispered, throat dry and hoarse.

Rico's eyes glinted as he locked his gaze with him, his blue irises brighter then he had remembered. Yet something hid within them, something Skipper craved to understand as he squinted in an attempt to. But the next moment he didn't need to search anymore. His sergeant cupped his cheek with a bloody flipper and a stern cold face, yet he could see the lust beneath it all.

That's when his body started moving on it's own, without warning he jolted forwards and pressed their beaks together in a desperate kiss. One filled with want, spilling over in desire and passion for his solider. He wanted him badly, and not just in his hallucination. And right when he opened his eyes he met with Rico's, and it spelled the world for him as he saw the way they swirled in crazed lust, wanting more, craving much, much more.

The key to treasures had revealed something MUCH greater then riches...the love for his sergeant.

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Rico couldn't help himself, ever second he had alone he slipped back into his deepest thoughts, drifting further away in what he remembered seeing before when he was dazed within those red ruby eyes. The memory made him shiver in delight, made his flippers curl to his chest in want, made his facial features fall into a love sickened expression with his tongue draped out the side of his gaping mouth and half lidded baby blues. In fact, he was thinking about it right now...

Right here, right now, it was time to throw down. It was a fight to the death, and Rico already had the two massive robots against him cowering. He was free, more free then he ever felt in the real world, because here he was allowed to release the psychotic beast locked within himself. And not even a tin can bot wanted to see that.

It hadn't even been round two yet and Rico had torn a limb off the red robot who turned tail and ran like the piece of scrap it was. As for the blue one, well, it was already brutally beaten offline, yet Rico enjoyed pounding more dents into the damn machine anyway.

Rico huffed, wiping poorly at the sweat building up over his brow. His feathers were gleaming in it as it ran smoothly down his body in a slow pace, the flavor of his beak's edges bitterly salty. But he didn't care as a twisted grin grew on him, tongue running over his jagged scar in search for even the smallest taste of blood.

Throwing aside the broken limb Rico stood admiring his work when he heard the final bell ring out. Victory was his. Now it was time to meet the next contestant, and he couldn't be more excited to rip apart whatever was coming for him.

But that excitement quickly turned into something much more arousing as a familiar figure joined him in the rink, flippers propped on his hips cockily. "Rico," Skipper greeted from across the stage, his voice dripping in a sweet honey tone almost irresistible as he smirked.

Rico wolf-whistled as he glanced over his commander, their movements leading into a circle pattern as the sound echoed into the endless shadows of the outer room. Responding Skipper winked smugly, yet his next move wasn't as pleasant as he pounced on him.

They rolled over the floor boards in a tussle for dominance, prideful smirks each accompanying their faces. The feeling of slick feathers sliding together as they twisted and turned, beaks just inches apart from contact and steely gazes locked onto one another.

It went on for who knows how long until it all turned into biting and nipping, flippers gripping everywhere and anywhere they could leave a bruise. Skipper was desperately pulling at Rico's beak as he was biting into the flesh of his wings. Back to the floor as his solider towered over him from between his legs, deranged growls emitting from deep within his throat, pleading for his commander's submission.

Moments later something had snapped in their heads, and through all the blood and sweat they entangled themselves together, searching touches in hidden places and sloppy widespread kisses. It seemed all too good to be true, but Rico knew this was the time of his life.

He cursed those ruby crimson eyes for showing him what he couldn't have, but for also expanding his sights beyond their brotherhood. This was the blessing of a curse.

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After a week Kowalski had finally gathered the guts to ask what their deepest desires were, and to what had seemed like forever Private was finally done explaining his. Kowalski turned towards Skipper and Rico who were also sat at the table. "So, what did you two see?" He asked, a nervous expression masking his features.

Skipper glanced down into the darkness of his coffee that he swirled idly in his favorite mug, mind exhausted with the memory of it. "Nothing I haven't seen before..." Skipper responded in a hushed voice, a sadness laced within his words.

Rico let out a quiet whine at the comment, seeming to catch the attention of his leader. Yet when their eyes met, it was as if they could see each others true emotion on the subject. Reject, sorrow, bitterness, a longing for what they had seen.

Skipper smiled warmly at him. Maybe, just maybe, someday he'd be able to tell him. Speak of what he saw, what he wanted. Voice out his admiration for him, his love. Yet at the moment it all seemed so impossible as he stared into those wonderus blue eyes, noting how drastically more beautiful they were compared to the rubies he once got lost in.

Their deepest desire was none other then each other, yet the one thing that damn golden squirrel didn't tell them, was how to express it.

[Word Count: 1,470.]