Fanfic: Running Currahee
Title: Running Currahee
Author: daisukikawaii
Painrings/Characters: Don Malarkey/Skip Muck
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 698
Warnings: Man love, foul language.
Summary: Skip is looking for adventure and Malarkey is his chosen (and willing) victim.
“Are you completely insane?”
The question came out of Malarkey’s mouth a bit louder in pitch than he intended. Someone grunted in annoyance in the dark beside him. A pillow came flying from somewhere in the room and hit him square on in the face.
The man standing beside his bed, the reason for his outburst, laughed until he bent over in cramps. Malarkey took a swing at him with the pillow but missed.
“You’re a headcase, Skip,” Malarkey grumbled.
“You should see yourself right now,” Skip said, poking Malarkey’s stomach with a long bony finger. “Come on.”
Skip pulled him out of bed and dragged him through the room of sleeping men. Malarkey barely had time to grab his boots before being pulled out into the warm summer night. He stumbled after the tall man, still a bit out of it.
“Where are we going,” he whined as he pulled on his boots, jumping on one leg at a time.
“We’re running Currahee.”
Malarkey stopped dead in his tracks. Skip turned around, biting his lower lip in glee, and started to jog backwards.
“What did you just say to me?”
“You too weak, Malark?” Skip smiled mischievously as he started to sprint towards the famous “three miles up, three miles down”.
Malarkey tied his last shoelace and rushed after the dark silhouette in front of him.
“Skip, you are a sick, sick man,” he yelled as he caught up with him. He could barely see the man. The almost-full moon hid behind a canopy of grey clouds and gave them no light on their path.
“Did I ever tell you otherwise, Malark?”
Malarkey reached Skip’s side just as they started the climb up the mountain. The gravel shot out from under their feet and bounced away over the path in front of them. Occasional stones hit their calves as they ran. They yelped in pain and then laughed at each other. It became a sport to try and hit the other with a well-placed stone shard.
The last mile Skip sprinted like a maniac, shouting “hi-yo silver” in a bad impersonation of Sobel. Malarkey laughed and tried to catch up, a bit out of breath from his chuckling.
They both reached the top at the same time, tapping the stone and accidentally hitting each other on the fingers. Skip fell onto his stomach on the ground, panting heavily. The clouds parted a bit, and Malarkey could see him clearly now as he lay sprawled out like a child making a snow angel. He lay down beside him, stretching out on his back. He stared at the few stars visible behind the blanket of clouds. Skip placed his hand on top of Malarkeys stomach and watched it as it rose and fell in pace with his breathing. Malarkey placed his own hand on Skip’s, moving his fingers in lazy circles over the soft skin of his knuckles. He turned his head and stared into Skip’s eyes, always filled with glee and warmth.
“Do you miss home, Skip?” Malarkey asked as their eyes were locked.
“Not today,” Skip answered, pulling out a pack of lucky strikes from the pocket of his shorts. He lit one for himself and one for Malarkey. He pulled himself up on his elbows and placed the cigarette between Malarkey’s lips. His fingers brushed against Malarkey’s jaw.
They made little clouds of smoke rise to the sky and stayed silent for a while.
“When we have won this war, Malark, we will be rich,” Skip said after a while, breaking the silence. “We can do whatever we want.”
Malarkey smiled widely as Skip rolled on top of him and stared intensely into his eyes. Malarkey stared back, pulling at the front of Skip’s shirt.
“Whatever we want,” Skip repeated in an almost-whisper and took the cigarette from Malarkey’s mouth. He slowly bent down until their lips met and shaped around one another like clay. They fit like they were made for each other.
As they ran down Currahee the sun started rising beyond the horizon. They didn’t bother going to sleep. They just lay down in Skip’s bed and smoked some more cigarettes.
Author: daisukikawaii
Painrings/Characters: Don Malarkey/Skip Muck
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 698
Warnings: Man love, foul language.
Summary: Skip is looking for adventure and Malarkey is his chosen (and willing) victim.
“Are you completely insane?”
The question came out of Malarkey’s mouth a bit louder in pitch than he intended. Someone grunted in annoyance in the dark beside him. A pillow came flying from somewhere in the room and hit him square on in the face.
The man standing beside his bed, the reason for his outburst, laughed until he bent over in cramps. Malarkey took a swing at him with the pillow but missed.
“You’re a headcase, Skip,” Malarkey grumbled.
“You should see yourself right now,” Skip said, poking Malarkey’s stomach with a long bony finger. “Come on.”
Skip pulled him out of bed and dragged him through the room of sleeping men. Malarkey barely had time to grab his boots before being pulled out into the warm summer night. He stumbled after the tall man, still a bit out of it.
“Where are we going,” he whined as he pulled on his boots, jumping on one leg at a time.
“We’re running Currahee.”
Malarkey stopped dead in his tracks. Skip turned around, biting his lower lip in glee, and started to jog backwards.
“What did you just say to me?”
“You too weak, Malark?” Skip smiled mischievously as he started to sprint towards the famous “three miles up, three miles down”.
Malarkey tied his last shoelace and rushed after the dark silhouette in front of him.
“Skip, you are a sick, sick man,” he yelled as he caught up with him. He could barely see the man. The almost-full moon hid behind a canopy of grey clouds and gave them no light on their path.
“Did I ever tell you otherwise, Malark?”
Malarkey reached Skip’s side just as they started the climb up the mountain. The gravel shot out from under their feet and bounced away over the path in front of them. Occasional stones hit their calves as they ran. They yelped in pain and then laughed at each other. It became a sport to try and hit the other with a well-placed stone shard.
The last mile Skip sprinted like a maniac, shouting “hi-yo silver” in a bad impersonation of Sobel. Malarkey laughed and tried to catch up, a bit out of breath from his chuckling.
They both reached the top at the same time, tapping the stone and accidentally hitting each other on the fingers. Skip fell onto his stomach on the ground, panting heavily. The clouds parted a bit, and Malarkey could see him clearly now as he lay sprawled out like a child making a snow angel. He lay down beside him, stretching out on his back. He stared at the few stars visible behind the blanket of clouds. Skip placed his hand on top of Malarkeys stomach and watched it as it rose and fell in pace with his breathing. Malarkey placed his own hand on Skip’s, moving his fingers in lazy circles over the soft skin of his knuckles. He turned his head and stared into Skip’s eyes, always filled with glee and warmth.
“Do you miss home, Skip?” Malarkey asked as their eyes were locked.
“Not today,” Skip answered, pulling out a pack of lucky strikes from the pocket of his shorts. He lit one for himself and one for Malarkey. He pulled himself up on his elbows and placed the cigarette between Malarkey’s lips. His fingers brushed against Malarkey’s jaw.
They made little clouds of smoke rise to the sky and stayed silent for a while.
“When we have won this war, Malark, we will be rich,” Skip said after a while, breaking the silence. “We can do whatever we want.”
Malarkey smiled widely as Skip rolled on top of him and stared intensely into his eyes. Malarkey stared back, pulling at the front of Skip’s shirt.
“Whatever we want,” Skip repeated in an almost-whisper and took the cigarette from Malarkey’s mouth. He slowly bent down until their lips met and shaped around one another like clay. They fit like they were made for each other.
As they ran down Currahee the sun started rising beyond the horizon. They didn’t bother going to sleep. They just lay down in Skip’s bed and smoked some more cigarettes.