Block 1.
“Relax, cadet. I won’t bite.”
That was how it all started. Those words rang in the air between them, making Hans clench his fists in his pockets even tighter and just… stare at the man before him, not really knowing what to respond and if he’s even allowed to respond. He knew sooner or later this moment would come: words usually travel faster than people, and Hans heard about The Blackberry and his heroics long before that man actually visited their military base.
Not that Hans cared, at first. He heard lots of stories, especially from those of his friends who were showing high promises and were expecting to be transferred to The Blackberry’s units sooner or later. Being a junior cadet, Hans knew for sure he’d never get anywhere near the leadership of this man, so there was no point in troubling himself with those thoughts too much.
And then he saw him. He was not prepared for that at all, even though his garrison was expecting Hanns von Purple Beurer’s visit any day now, and Lieutenant Muller, his superior, gave them a very long and very convincing speech earlier that day, stating that either they executed their duties flawlessly in the presence of such a high-ranking officer, or they might as well report to the mess hall staff for reassignment. Hans had no intention of facing disciplinary action, and he despised janitorial duties in particular, so he resolved to perform to the highest standard possible.
Well, so much for that idea. He was just carrying a box of medical supplies down to the infirmary, his hands already slightly trembling under the weight of that thing - whatever supplies those paramedics needed, it weighed at least a few pounds, and all Hans wanted was to get thar burden off himself and go lie down somewhere in his room, because his back was killing him since the very morning. And then he turned over the corner and found himself almost running into Hanns von Purple Beurer himself, - the unmistakable purple jacket and the impressive array of medals adorning his chest left no room for doubt. And then those dark hawk-like eyes glared at him and as if pierced his soul, and-
His heart stuttered, a single, frantic beat as his grip faltered on that heavy box. Sweat slicked through his fingers, they slipped along the wooden surface, and the box plummeted with a resounding thud. He lunged forward, trying to catch it before the supplies would get scattered across the floor, his hands closed around it mid-air, and a sharp jolt of pain shot up his back the very next moment. Great. His knees struck the wooden floor with a muted thud, and he sucked in a sharp breath, wincing. Pain radiated through him, sharp and unforgiving, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to yield to it. Not now. Not in front of the general. For a moment, he stayed there, hands braced on the box, before making a feeble, desperate attempt to coax the obviously dislocated disk in his lower back into place.
Which was not working. Pain was pulsating more and more sharply in his back, and he was still grasping at that damn box, which yes, didn’t fall down, but the supplies inside were probably half-damaged at that point. And all of that with The Blackberry standing right in front of him.
“That goddamn cadet-! I’m so sorry, Herr von Purple Beurer, this doesn’t happen often, it’s just an accident-”
Hans hurried to grab the roll of bandages that did fall out of the box, and put it inside, still feeling his back aching with every movement. The pain was so blinding he felt ready to collapse right then and there. Hans could hear Lieutenant Muller, who was probably escorting Herr von Purple Beurer through the building, apologising clumsily, his voice slightly shaking. He was probably even more stressed than everyone else in the garrison. It’s not every day a five-star general decides to grace their mediocre military base with his presence. Especially - a general like The Blackberry.
Hans heard a pair of heavy boots making their way across the hallways and stopping right in front of him. “Well, this is unfortunate,” he heard a light, more amused than angry voice, and he made an attempt to get up - only to realise he is going to have a hell of a night in a few hours if he doesn’t find some strong painkillers. Not to mention he probably has some disciplinary work already being scheduled for him in Lieutenant Muller’s mind, because judging by the look on him, the man would be blasting lightnings from his eyes at this point, if only he had the ability.
“I’m so sorry, Herr von Purple Beurer, we will get everything fixed and replaced, I promise, and- Cadet, stand the fuck up, there’s a five-star general right in front of you,” the fierceful hissing, so low that Hans could barely make out what he was told, pierced through his eardrums, and he made another angry attempt to pull whatever was clicking in his spine back into place and be able to move without the danger of passing out. Maybe he could try standing up without clinging to that fucking box, for starters, he thought, getting more and more angry with himself and feeling his eyes starting to sting with tears. This was his first time ever seeing Hanns von Purple Beurer in real life, and here he was, making a fool out of himself- Hans did not think he could ever be so mad with himself.
“Okay, let’s not be so harsh, Herr Muller,” he heard The Blackberry’s voice, that playful tone obviously being a signature element in his manner of speech. Hans still did not dare to raise his eyes and look at the man, but he could tell by the rustling of clothes that the general lowered himself down on his knees next to him, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “Right, boy, I know my beauty is hypnotizing, but surely you can still move. What is it, hm?” Hans did not know if he made another irrational movement, or if he actually said something that indicated his back was giving out on him at that very moment, or if Herr von Purple Beurer was just such a good people-reader, but he suddenly felt those strong palms carefully inspecting his lower back.
“Yeah, that sometimes happens, I know it does… You’re having back troubles, ja? Sure you do… We will fix it. It’s a good thing you didn’t stand up, could’ve made it worse…” His fingers moved slowly along Hans’ back, occasionally pausing to work on a particularly stiff knot or to press against something, as he obviously tried to figure out what exactly went wrong. Throughout the whole process, he did not for one second stop talking in the same light manner, sounding as though he was conversing with himself more than with Hans, but for whatever reason it felt so calming.
This was the monster Hans heard so many stories about? General von Purple Beurer, whose name the other cadets spoke in whispers? The man with a ‘steely gaze and iron grip”?..
The soft touches were easing down the pain.
“Right, I will try to pull it back in, and you tell me if that feels right or not,” he heard an order. All the lightness suddenly disappeared from Herr von Purple Beurer’s voice. He was now pure composure, his hands stopping on some spot on Hans’ back and rubbing circles against it for several moments, “Here?”
Hans nodded rigidly, praying for him to never stop, because it was easing the pain so much. If they could just stay like that for a few more seconds, he could probably gather enough strength to stand up and pick up that box and drag himself to the closest infirmary for painkillers-
“Don’t move.”
Like he was trying to- Something clicked sharply, and a wave of relief rushed through Hans’ body, making him exhale sharply and drop his head to his chest, heart pounding sharply somewhere in his ears.
“All good? Cadet?”
He nodded one more time, because breath was still catching in his throat, and his lips were twitching as he unsuccessfully tried to pull himself together and form some words. The pain, shielding him from the outer world, was gone. It was just him now. Still on his knees, one hand grasping at that stupid box, the other one clutching into a fist as he threw a one quick glance over his shoulder just to see what Hanns von Purple Beurer actually looked like.
The gaze of those black eyes nailed him to the spot, glaring straight into his soul the moment their sights met. He had to say something now, Hans understood, getting lost in those dark eyes for a few long moments. He had to do something.
He gulped a thick lump in his throat and whispered a “Thank you” so quiet he doubted the man even heard.
The general’s eyes glimmered with laughter, although his face stayed focused and serious, as he rose back to his feet. “Relax, cadet. I won’t bite.”
So this was Hanns von Purple Beurer. Hans grabbed a few more items that flew out of the box when he was trying to catch it, shoved them back inside and grabbed the edges of the box again.
“Don’t you dare to pick that thing up again,” he heard a thunderous command above him, as the general loomed over him, his arms crossed on his chest. “Get up, come on. Leave that thing behind. Who is he, why is he doing this shit, don’t you have people for that here?” that was addressed in a very irritable manner to Lieutenant Muller, who observed the whole interaction with his face absolutely stony, and blanched even more when Herr von Purple Beurer spoke to him again.
“Well, he can’t exactly be in the combat operations, sir, with his medical records and conditions, so-”
“...so you made him do this instead?” Herr von Purple Beurer interrupted, kicking the box with his boot and making the supplies inside it clunk dully. “I am very disappointed, Lieutenant Muller. I’ve been in this position for more than ten years now, and I would not have made it where I am today if I were this disrespectful to my people… Cadet, seriously, calm down,” he added all of a sudden, his eyes landing on Hans, who now stood by the wall, frozen under the irritated gaze of Lieutenant Muller and absolutely crushed by the sudden change in Herr von Purple Beurer’s voice.
Everything slows down before his eyes from this point forth. He’s not even sure if he’s scared, humiliated, lost, sorry - or everything at once. He knows he should say something. He hasn’t spoken a proper word for the entirety of his interaction with Herr von Purple Beurer, and he would very-very much like to apologize in an appropriate manner, to explain what was happening, to promise this will never happen again, and he’s so sorry to have interrupted Herr von Purple Beurer’s day- Words just get stuck in his throat along with the frantic inhales, and all he can do is clench his fists tighter in his pockets, staring at Herr von Purple Beurer with an overwhelming despair in his sight.
“Look, cadet. Nobody’s punishing you for this, okay?” the general says, still looking attentively at him and as if trying to understand him without actually making him speak. Finally he shakes his head. “Nope, you’re a closed book for me, sweetheart, unless you start talking. What’s wrong? You barely said a word to me the entire time. Do you even talk?”
“He does.” Hans hears Lieutenant Muller’s disapproving voice, which is really just pure irritation with him at this point. “He just tends to get anxious, that’s all.”
Hans flinches and looks up at both of them, feeling his cheeks blushing and his eyes sparkling with hurt. He squeezes his lips tight, because if he talks back to Lieutenant Muller now, he’ll be scratching the kitchen floors for months before his superior forgets this incident.
He has no right to talk back to the higher ranks, even though everything inside him practically burns with the boiling humiliation, because this is twice, twice he looked weak in front of Hanns von Purple Beurer in just ten minutes.
“Will you please bring me the documentation on this entire unit? Herr Muller? Be so kind,” the general says, his voice impeccably polite and soft, even though Hans can definitely see a suppressed irritation flashing dangerously in the man’s eyes. Herr von Purple Beurer, however, doesn’t allow an inch of his face to show his dissatisfaction and just waits for his companion to depart, before turning back to Hans, who is still standing by the wall, practically becoming part of it at that point.
“Okay, I made that prick disappear,” he says, shifting the box that is still on the floor between the two of them, out of his way and stepping closer to him. “Now, the beautiful boy will look at me… he will look at me,” he repeats forcefully, raising his hand and touching Hans’ chin with the tip of his finger, “...and he will try to explain to me what exactly is troubling that young head of his, ja?”
Hans, who at first is not even sure Herr von Purple Beurer refers to him, stares at him in disbelief. “Ja, ja, I mean you,” Herr von Purple Beurer assures, and a barely noticeable smile twitches the corners of his plump lips, as he watches Hans, who is still feeling his face absolutely burning with… with what, exactly? He’s not scared anymore. Definitely not ashamed, right? At least, Herr von Purple Beurer seems to be doing everything to make him feel slightly less humiliated. On the contrary to Lieutenant Muller, who makes sure to remind Hans constantly how worthless of a soldier and a person he is.
Herr von Purple Beurer does not seem to think the same way. At least, he keeps talking to Hans in that soft voice, half-sarcastic notes getting occasionally tangled into his voice here and there, and he calls Hans ‘the beautiful boy’ a few more times, until Hans feels he’s… okay again. The heat in his throat gradually levels down, and he feels his muscles get less and less tense with each passing moment.
“Oh look at that, the beautiful boy graced me with a smile,” Herr von Purple Beurer comments, and for a moment Hans is alert again, searching for sardonic notes in his voice and finding none. Herr von Purple Beurer does not seem to be angry with him at all. “Now let’s see if those pretty lips tell me at least one word, shall we? You gotta give me that, sweetheart, come on. You’re way too scared,” he says, furrowing, as his finger moves from Hans’ chin up to his cheekbone, tracing a thin line across his skin. “I mean, what’s up with that? You have to relax a bit, I feel like I’m beating you up here. And I’m actually doing the opposite, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes. I’m- I’m sorry,” Hans whispers hoarsely, feeling his head spinning more and more with each next “pretty” and “beautiful”s this man is so gracefully showering him with. “I just… just…” He moved away from the wall, shifting uneasily from one foot to another and still unable to take his eyes off the man before him.
He has never seen Hanns von Purple Beurer in his life - not in real life, anyway. He heard stories from people who did, and they were all filled with either respect or fear - depending on the interaction that particular person had with the general - which usually mixed weirdly well with the tension in people’s voices every time The Blackberry’s name slipped into a conversation.
Hans knew he was brutal. All those slaughters with which most of his military operations ended spoke for themselves. Hanns von Purple Beurer rarely took any captives. His subordinates surely did, but Hans knew from some very loud cases that once The Blackberry was getting involved into an operation - it would almost certainly have a deadly outcome for the opposite side.
Another common knowledge was that Hanns von Purple Beurer was… a peculiar person. Sexually active, if one could call it that. Hans never really bothered to pay attention when people were talking about that, so he didn’t know much, but he once overheard Xavier rating him five stars not just for his medals.
He keeps looking at Herr von Purple Beurer’s face, searching for something in his eyes - he is not sure for what yet, but he’s surely lost and he wants to… to find the answer. To the question that hasn’t been formed even in his own head yet. The man smiles at him gently, raising his eyebrow, “Well, at least you’re not hyperventilating anymore, pretty boy,” he comments quietly, and once again Hans can’t tell if he’s being mocked or genuinely encouraged. “Although that gaze of yours - god you would make a good sergeant, with a glare that piercing,” Herr von Purple Beurer adds and studies Hans’ face in return for several more seconds, his gaze suddenly becoming serious and deep. So deep it swallows Hans like an abyss, and for a moment there’s nothing else around him - just this man. Herr von Purple Beurer. The Blackberry.
The Blackberry. That name pulls Hans out of this shock like a sharp slap on the face would, because he stands before The fucking Blackberry, he had just caused an entire scene on front of him, just because he couldn’t hold that damn box in his hands, and then he got even more anxious… He’s a fucking mess.
“Okay, cadet, easy now,” he hears a soft voice, and a gentle arm slips underneath Hans’ hands and around his waist. “Let’s get you to your room. What floor are you on? Fifth? Sixth? Probably sixth, judging by your rank. Cadet, I need you to respond to me, deal? You’re the prettiest boy in the garrison for sure, but honestly, it starts to feel like talking to a wall.”
“Sixth,” Hans breathes out, realising that if they start moving now, he will absolutely slip and fall. For no other reason but because he is fucking melting in that soft half-embrace. His entire body responds to the casualty with which Herr von Purple Beurer rubs his thumb against one of his vertebrae. He closes his eyes again and stays in that moment - just for a second, just to memorize that feeling and lose himself in it, in The Blackberry’s touch and voice, in everything, everything that happened to him for the past ten minutes, because it will be taken away from him so very soon-
He takes a shaky step forward - not because he’s ordered to but because he knows he should break that frozen moment and just do it. Go to his room, drug himself with painkillers and move on with his life like this never happened. He will have to find a way to pretend this never happened, because Herr von Purple Beurer would probably expect that from him. He’s just a cadet, he’s not supposed to have feelings. Or memories. Right?
“Sixth, you say,” Herr von Purple Beurer mutters, and Hans realises they are at the elevator already, and just after that realisation the general hits the sixth button and the door behind them closes. “Okay. Sweetheart, I can’t really memorize your number, I already have a dozen of other things on my mind,” he turns to Hans the next moment, tilting his head slightly, probably, to get a better look at Hans’ face, and Hans is once again lost in the moment, because The Blackberry’s hand is still curled around his waist, supporting him gently. “But you just come to my office tomorrow,” he continues, and Hans can’t believe he is hearing correctly. “Come to my office - and we’ll both take a look at your file. I’ll transfer you to some other job, you’re definitely not the one to drag around boxes in this division.”
“You’re…” does he dare? He dares. He clears his throat again and shoots one more look at Herr von Purple Beurer, just to make sure he’s allowed to speak. The same eyes, flickering with both laughter and encouragement, give him hope. “You’re staying here for a long time, Herr von Purple Beurer? If you have an office already.”
“I am,” he says quietly. “But don’t talk too much, cadet, ja? Let the people think I’m just visiting. They tend to get too uptight if they know they’re stuck with me for long,” he smirks, his fingers twirling playfully on Hans’ hip.
The elevator stops so suddenly the whole cabin quakes, and those same palms that were absent-mindedly fondling his back now once again converge around his waist, keeping him steady. “We’re here,” is all Herr von Purple Beurer says, and Hans takes a shaky step towards the exit. He feels the man’s hands slip away, releasing him gently, and he can’t suppress a disappointed sigh, because here it is. The moment he was afraid of.
He knew sooner or later this beautiful dream would end, right? He was counting down seconds to the moment Herr von Purple Beurer would let go of him, and he would have to return to his room and… pretend this was just a normal day. Or what was he expected to do? What is a person even supposed to do, if a five-star general is being so fucking nice to them, spares them from their punishment, graces them with a full walk almost to the doors of their room and continues to literally hit on them during all that time?..
Hans slowly walks out of the elevator and throws just one more look back, just to check if all of that was real.
“Don’t forget to drop by tomorrow, beautiful,” Herr von Purple Beurer says with the most elegant of smiles, and the door closes in front of him with a quiet ding.