Future Fighters

This first started off as a Starfighter fanfiction but I guess I kinda got a bit carried away. Anyways, it's nowhere near done, but I would love feedback. Thanks so much!

~DashSparrow

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     Ten years later and I was still hopeless. No matter what I did, no matter what anyone said, even my own brothers, I was hopelessly drawn to Nikolai. Nikolai and I had been best friends for as long as I could remember, and I’ve had a crush on him since he had held my hand for the first time when we were kids; Nikolai 6, and I was 7. I had always been rather quiet around anyone who wasn't Nikolai, and dismally oblivious to things like girls. Apparently, I had many admirers in the Russian colonies; all the teenage girls my age were ‘positively smitten’ with me, according to my brothers, and thought I was 'dark and mysterious' and ‘beautifully quiet’ and collected. I, however, thought I was nothing but a whelp of a man compared to Nikolai. Sure, I had muscle, but no way did I have as much muscle as he did. I was also extremely confused with myself, up until recently, that was. I could only come to one conclusion: I was gay. There was no other explanation. Why else would I never notice things about women like I did about him? Sure, women were beautiful creatures, with their curves, their eyes, their lips, their hair, their seemingly silky skin. Yet they had no appeal to me other than that they were beautiful to look at. Like with Nikolai, I always noticed the way he crinkled his nose when he was thinking, or the way he liked to give a snort whenever he was trying to hold back laughter; I wanted to hold him, touch him, kiss him…

      But that could never happen. Not while we were friends, and definitely not while we went to the school we went to. Bravliski Academy for Boys was the fighter boarding school in the Russian colonies. Boys who wished to become fighters in the Space Fleet were obligated to attend this school, where physical training was the number one priority, along with the mechanics of loading, building, and firing guns, from, and outside of, a space craft. The navigators always took care of the flying, so there was no need for us to learn anything about it, only how the pattern of flight would affect our fighting abilities. Fighter school was pretty much what people used to call ‘Military School’ only much more like boot camp; actually, it kind of was boot camp, if you think about it. We got random weekend breaks and some holidays off every once in a while, but the rest of the time it was wake up before the sun goes up and go to bed after the sun goes down, rigorous training the whole day.

      One Sunday night, on a weekend break from fight school, we had a sleepover at Nikolai’s house. I sat at the foot of his bed, my eyes watching Nikolai’s position on the bed, and smiling softly to myself. Nikolai was lying on his bed with his hands behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankle, looking up at the poster of the Sleipnir (the Head Space craft for anyone who wanted to become a fighter or navigator), which was hung on his ceiling. I smiled back at Nikolai every time he had looked my way, and I could feel the heat rising in my face as he spoke of me and our futures of becoming fellow fighters in the space fleet. "One day,” he began, “I am gonna be the head fighter of the Sleipnir, leading all the other teams into a dangerous deep space missions. And you’ll be with me the whole time; you will be right under me in rank helping me climb the ladder." He sent me a smile before looking back up to the poster. "And I would make sure you and I always get the same missions. And our code names will match up, or something, so people think of us as a team instead of us with our navigators." He trailed off, the whole thing already planned perfectly in his mind. Every fighter was assigned a navigator who piloted the ship; therefore, fighters were never partners. Never the less, I felt my heart swell slightly at the mere thought of being partners with Nikolai, then gave a small chuckle. "I'd like that." I said softly before leaning against the wall beside Nikolai's bed. "I just hope you don't get a navigator that you like more than me." I half joked as I ran a hand through my dark hair. I stood from the bed and walked across the room, crouching down to rummage through my backpack, "Niko, you won't forget about me, will you? When you're Head Fighter?” I asked, still looking through my bag, but turning to look at Nikolai as he answered. “C’mon, Dimitri. You think I could forget you? We’ve been best friends since we were like, two.” He responded, his nose giving a slight crinkle as he rolled his eyes, his voice indicating the answer should have been obvious. “I mean,” I began, giving a slight laugh, “I know you won't forget me. Mostly because I brought you the best present ever back when you were 16." I gave a soft smirk and finally withdrew from my backpack with something in my hands: Vodka. “I know it’s a few months late, but; Happy birthday, Nikolai.” I said, tossing the bottle to the younger boy as I walked back over to the bed and watched a wide grin break out on his face.