Nolan: "I think I'm in love..."

Summary: Nolan is back from a mission and thinks Makarov will kill him because he failed, but gets proven wrong.

ao3 version

WC: 742

CW: devotion to an unhealthy degree

Notes: This is my first time writing character x character! Idk this is kinda nothing but i wanted to try Makanolan and this came out. Enjoy!

“Komandir” Nolan announces himself as he closes the door to Makarovs office behind him.

He’s still covered in blood, some of it his own and theres multiple cuts and bruises on his face he hasn’t dealt with yet. but it doesn’t matter. Nolan failed the mission, failed Makarov. He had to come here, apologise, seek mercy.

Makarov doesn’t turn around from where he’s looking out the window, his back tuned to Nolan. It would be stupid to think he hadn’t heard him, he just chose not to answer.

“Komandir” Andrei calls out again. Makarov still doesn’t respond, acknowledge his existence. Nolans hands are clamy and shaking. this means nothing good. He can only plead, hope his death will be a mercifully quick one.

“Komandir, I’m sorry. I failed the mission. I failed you. It is my fault and I’ll face any consequences.”

He stands, wait to be punished for speaking without being spoken to, but nothing comes. It stings worse than Makarovs usual harsh words, worse than being called useless and weak. Maybe he is weak to be so desperate for his komandirs attention, to be hanging on his every word.

His silence must mean the end. If he doesn’t even speak to him anymore, it means Nolan’s not worth his words. The realisation tears through him, makes him tear up. He hoped to be loyal, hoped to be a good soldier for Makarov, but he wasn’t and this is where it ends for him.

Nolan sinks to his knees, lets his head hang in submission. If he cant be a loyal soldier anymore, he’ll at least be loyal and obedient in his last moments. Andrei keeps his back straight as he stares at the floor, arms crossed behind his back and awaiting the muzzle of a gun.

A few seconds of absolute silence pass by. Nolans teary eyes threaten to spill over but he refuses to wipe them or show more weakness than he already did by failing.

Two polished leather shoes start to move towards him. Every step is a quiet click. A countdown to his death.

Makarov stops in front of him. Nolan doesn’t look up, obediently awaiting his execution. But instead of cold metal to his temple, Makarov speaks.

“What are you doing on the floor, солдат.”

Nolan doesn’t dare answer, holds his breath for a few seconds. This is a rhetorical question. Why would Makarov ask what he is doing. Nolan failed, this is the place he belongs.

“Andrei” Nolan flinches at his tone. He was wrong to remain silent.

“Komandir, I don’t understand. I failed you.”

His voice doesn’t shake, that he’s proud of. He presses his hands harder against his back. The position hurts, but Nolan won’t be in it much longer anyway.

“Stand.”

Nolan quickly raises to his feet, his knees feeling weak. He keeps his gaze glued to Makarovs shoes. The only reason Makarov would ask him to stand would be that he wants to kill him somewhere else, somewhere public, make an example of Nolan to make sure every single soldier knows not to fail him. Andrei won’t disobey.

“Look up.”

Nolan obeys. Makarovs eyes are steel, his gaze hard.

“You failed me.”

Nolan can’t help the words that tumble out of his mouth, can’t stop the desperate attempt to pray for forgiveness.

“I know, I know komandir. It was my fault and I-“

Makarov interrupts him with a click of his tongue. Instantly, Nolan falls silent.

“Go get cleaned up.”

Makarov glances at Nolans blood-stained gear before turning around, his shoes clicking on the floor as he walks back to the window.

“Komandir?”

Andreis voice shakes slightly. It is stupid to ask Makarov to repeat himself, he knows that, but he can’t help himself.

But, instead of facing punishment for his obvious mistake, Makarov sighs.

“Get cleaned up. We will talk later.”

Nolan wants to ask again, ask why he’s still alive, why Makarov doesn’t seem to be furious, but his body reacts before he does, making him stumble out the door and to his room.

The whole way to the barracks,, his mind circles around the same thoughts. He failed Makarov. Reasonably, he should be dead, yet somehow he’s still alive.

As Andrei stands under the hot water of the shower, it dawns on him: his komandir showed him mercy. He forgave him, or at least didn’t punish him.

He’s not sure he’s ever seen anyone survive failing Makarov before.

Mid-command Andrei groans “Oh fuck” just above his breath.

The Konni soldiers blink up at him in confusion.

“I… you have your orders.” He manages to speak as close to usual as possible.

He rushes to the nearest storage area and locks the door. He initially wants to take it out right away. He can’t be getting off, not right now. His heavy gear is nothing but a burden now, a major obstacle as he struggles to strip enough to remove the toy.

Then he remembers that Makarov ordered him to keep it in. He starts to sweat and it isn’t because the storage unit is warm. The vibrations send bursts of tingly bliss up his taint, through his balls and up his cock. He prays the vibration stays at that low setting.

He hears Makarov’s voice in his ear com, summoning him to his office. He hopes he can make it with his dignity intact because hearing his lover’s voice sets him on fire now. He sorts himself out and walks stiffly to Makarov’s office.

When he sees they are alone he falls forward, holding on to Makarov’s tactical vest, panting softly.

“Andreika… what has gotten into you?”

He is relishing in the look on Andrei’s face. The way his blue eyes shimmer and plead for mercy.

“Please Sir… let me..” Andrei growls and then begs.

Makarov pulls the clip of ammo from his vest and sees the little red button is on.

“Oh… sweetie. I am so sorry.” He says it with mocking pity as he strokes Andrei’s face. Then he turns it up, making Andrei clench his teeth and whine.

He presses up against Andrei and starts palming Andrei’s cock through his heavy fatigues. It feels like heaven because Andrei’s nerve endings are burning with need.

“Are you wearing them Andryusha?” He purrs against Andrei’s reddened ear.

Andrei nods.

“Very good. Go on… release for me.”

So I made Vladimir and Andrei in Tomodachi Life living the dream, and Makarov's been in love with Andrei since I fucking made these two gay idiots. 😤

what about Makarov, who taught Nolan to use violence against his commander, on the pretext that it would show just how loyal Nolan was to Komandir ?

There's something to be said about a man's will to serve. To feel important.

John Price found it in the line of duty. Simon Riley found it in his Captain...then the Scott who never knew when to quite. Kyle Garrick finding his anchor in a team far too patient for the monsters they hunt. Johnny MacTavish who colors the 141 with a willingness to be as dirty as needed yet a kind of rogue kindness. Others call that ruthlessness.

Nolan was a different sort.

Never needing to find who he was while with others. Never needing to be told what he was capable of.

No, he was far too boarish for something good. Tusks that eventually tore through his teammates if they're in the way. Missions completed under men admiring his drive...but never having the ambition themselves to be more than the number on their dog tags.

The genuine criminals, not the ones superiors will mark off as 'unknown alignment' on the report, all preach gold. Money. Drugs. Women. Blood.

Fickle things. Things that punch holes in the arms. The psyche. The brain. The heart. At worst, cause an chronic itch on the dick from their hygiene.

MDMA was good for fucking in the middle of the night. Sucking cock in some underground warehouse the best...yet just leaving Nolan more empty...more hollow and hungry than he first started. Cocaine was a no go. Not because he didn't try but because it was illegal Adderall to him. He cleaned his entire apartment, his appliances, his clothes and himself...before hogging down two pizzas and passing out buck naked on his sofa.

Therapy? He was too self aware. Too ready for a hunt...the one time he tried? He was offended by the sloppy breakdown of his mind even with his utmost honesty. He watched as the man, younger and panicked, tried to swim back to shore...too bad his ankle had a little concrete.

So he followed the money. His last track before ending the Nolan blood line with a double barrel muzzle in his throat.

Private companies...itched just enough...until his conversations with his employers lacked the ambition he wanted. No, 'We will be the top private contractors'. No, 'I want to take over a small country'. No, 'I want my name burned in books'.

So he gets drunk.

Earns a few rounds getting protein shot into his stomach in the restroom, earns more from bets...then finally wastes his money he didn't give a fuck about buying the place rounds by rounds by rounds...

And rants.

"Nothing matters- no nothing at all! I could fuck all of your sisters and none of you would care!" He's off his ass drunk.

Flushed. A little glassy eyed. Gripping his drink and the table like they would save him if his tall ass went down. It wouldn't.

"No wars taste like blood. No men like sweat. No women like tears! Why is humanity dying into fucking nothing!?" Oh what Andrei, Andrei the boy who dreamed of being a knight, would give to hold the banner of a cause greater than all!

Piso. Nero. Caesar. Napoleon.

"Does no one know we live from pain? We laugh from anguish? Live after burning to ashes?" Where is his great? What veneer of peace did he stumble into? What fucking lie was he forced to live?

His grumbling is broken by a warm hand on his nape and warm eyes, smile lines from an older man, "You believe that?" American? Russian? What was that accent...Nolan hiccups but leans in. Whatever. Someone was fucking listening for once! "Have you ever known...a history that told you anything less?"

Oh that smile...

Sealing Nolan to Konni. To Ivan.

They are on a mission, yet they steal glances from one another when possible. Checking in on one another all while checking each other out.

When they get to Makarov’s quarters there is no holding back.