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Gears of Denial	By : BlueBastard Category: +G through L > Gears of War Views: 2605 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own nor profit from Gears of War or its characters. Just playing with stuff

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Title: Gears of Denial

Disclaimer: I do not own nor profit from Gears of War. Half the fans would threaten me, half would love me, and the other half wouldn't care.

Summary: First stage: denial. Second is anger. And third is complete, ignorant, bliss. Problem is, Marcus won't let Baird get away that easily.

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Damon Baird was a complicated genius. He hated the locusts with a passion and was terrified of heights like you wouldn't believe.

But he was also very logical. So blunt, in fact, that he had passed the border of being a bastard, it was his goddamn last name. He was so far from the border it was like a friggin' dot to him.

Not that it phased him.

So there he was, on the edge of a cliff so high he refused to acknowledge the plunge, as he lay on his stomach, glaring through his Longshot's sniper scope.

'I hate Marcus.'

BAM!

A locust drone dropped dead. Its brains scattered in the hilltops below.

'I hate him not.'

BAM!

Another drone bit the dust.

'I hate his guts.'

BAM!

'I don't...'

He shot another. It was getting more difficult. The roars and frantic movement indicated the slow brutes had finally noticed a sniper in their midst.

'I want to fuck him.'

The images assaulted his brain and the blonde cursed as he missed, the Locust ducking behind a boulder.

'I... want him to fuck me.'

"Aw hell..." Baird cursed as the bullet connected.

The Corporal was having a pretty bad fuckin' day.

-o-o-o-

Baird tried to loosen tense shoulders at the sight of his Sergeant.

Marcus Fenix.

Same whopping height of 6"1', same color eyes, but more intense. Where Baird's was a robin blue, Marcus's was more like chilling ice. He was convinced the man had glued his do rag on his head, with how much he wore the thing.

The very man that plagued his thoughts since that unlucky night. He never saw who it was, and he thought he recognized the other voice, but the sounds were clear enough. Marcus had been fucking someone who sure as hell did NOT sport a pair of tits. And whoever it was had been fuckin' enjoying it.

Baird normally wouldn't have cared. It was life or death out here. And not enough ladies for lonely cots.

He could give a rat's ass if Fenix got his jollies with another dude.

Of course there lay the problem.

With Marcus, he fuckin' DID care.

And he couldn't look at the man without hearing the pleasured sounds. His mind unwillingly filling the gaps of exactly why the brooding man's bed mate cried out for more. Harder. Faster. And fuck it had been hotter than hell itself.

He could feel his cock just twitching at the memory, his eyes flickering to the imposing figure currently hunched over, exuding every bit a weary soldier absolutely not enjoying the slop that was their rations. Bunch of tasteless, protein shit that was the gray color of splattered brains he had seen through his scope half an hour ago.

Still, he couldn't look at Marcus the same.

But he'd eat Locust shit and die before he'd let anyone, ESPECIALLY their fearless leader, know.

Brushing on his best glare, he made a little huff as he stomped to Delta's little table, announcing his presence as noisily as possible.

"Valley's cleared out. Want me to shine your shoes next? Paint your toenails? Maybe see if Queen Myrah wants to do lunch?" Baird snipped, forcing relaxed irritation into his features.

Marcus merely glared at him, clearly not in the mood.

His only reply was a grunt.

"Don't fuck with the man, Baird." Cole warned, the dark-skinned man chomping down on his food like it was beef and gravy.

"Yeah, let him eat in peace." Dom added, glancing up at Baird with a warning look.

"No, you know what? Fuck that shit. I didn't see any of your asses up at predawn, on top of (1) Mount Everest, sniping the shit out of moving heaps of stinkin' grubs." Baird growled, arm swiping the air in anger as he nodded in Dom's direction, "Why didn't you go? Thought you claimed to be a better shot than me."

Dom coughed suddenly, choking slightly on his food, before replying vaguely, "Rough night."

Then suddenly it clicked. It all fell right into place.

The other soldier last night.

It had been Dom.

Now Baird was a genius. But he never claimed to be very smart with his mouth.

He knew he should've dropped it. Walk away while he was still breathin' and all that shit.

But he was fuckin' pissed off.

And nothing short of a full on Locust invasion was gonna stop him now.

"Rough night huh? What about you, Marcus? Rough night too?" Baird demanded. He saw those broad shoulders tense. Could see this was headed to a bad place. But it was like a fuckin' car wreck.

And Baird's mouth was drivin'.

"Woah baby, shift it down a gear. We all jus' need some sleep." Cole, ever the peacemaker when it came to friends, swooped in.

But Baird didn't need his goddamn help.

He was in a pissy mood. And Marcus was the best target.

"No, Cole. I wanna hear it from our fearless leader's mouth." Baird cut in before the big guy could say anymore.

Dom opened his mouth to say something, but Marcus stopped him with a hand in the air.

"Didn't realize the princess needed her beauty sleep. Whaddaya wanna know, Baird? If I fluffed my goddamn pillows?" Marcus growled, glaring burning craters into his unfinished pile of food.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do. Or maybe if someone else did it for you." Baird replied, miffed that the do rag-wearing bastard hadn't even looked at him yet.

There was a deadly pause.

Slowly, Marcus bit out, "...What did you just say?"

A rock could not have been more tense than the muscled Sergeant just then, back so stiff you could've bent an iron crowbar if you swung full force.

Baird did not know when to call it quits.

He was angry at the world. And somehow, he managed to point the blame entirely on Adam Fenix's son.

"What, too many frags knock out your eardrums? Let me dumb it down for you. Was last night too much of a fuck fest for you to NOT ruin my fuckin' morning?" Baird demanded, shifting his weight to the other leg as he continued scathingly, "I mean -hey- *I* thought a good lay was supposed to relax you, not make you into a freakin' ornery, uptight, bastar-"

Marcus was standing and up in Baird's face faster than he could blink. Hell, faster than he thought even possible for the other Gear to move.

Face a mask of pure fury, Marcus snarled, finger jabbing painfully at Baird's chest, "*I* don't see how that's any of your GODDAMN business, Corporal Damon S. Baird."

Marcus was an intimidating man. He could make grown ass soldiers crumble from a hardened look alone.

An angry Marcus was bad enough.

But a furious one...

But Baird was tough as nails himself.

A charging Brumak may make him want to piss his pants, but the blonde had the balls to stand his ground anyway.

"It *becomes* my business when decisions are made where *I* get shafted, getting up at the ass crack of dawn, 'cause others were too busy rollin' in the hay and having themselves a grand ol' time." Baird squared his shoulders, standing toe to toe with the mountain of a man. They may have been the same height, but Marcus definitely had more muscle mass, almost dwarfing the blonde's more slender figure.

Baird had glared pointedly at Dom, rising a growl from the bearded man, before glaring back at Marcus.

The ebony-haired man seemed closer than before, Gear chest plate armor nearly knocking into Baird's own.

Storm-like fury whirled in those piercing blue eyes, almost flashing white as frozen lightning.

His voice was a deep, thunderous rumble, deceptively calm as he questioned harshly, "So we got a problem, Corporal?"

It wouldn't have fazed the blonde in the slightest.

Except now Marcus was more than in his face. He was millimeters away, their armor clanking at the sudden move. Baird had no breathing room whatsoever.

And all he could think about were those sounds. Marcus fucking Dom. And how long it had been since he had any.

Marcus was only making Baird's unease worse as he grabbed a hold of the blonde's chest plate with one large fist, giving the silent Corporal a hard shake as he growled, "Well...?"

Fenix's heated breath curled around Baird's stiff jaw, the more slender man fighting the mixed emotions and urges rising within. Baird felt his face begin to flush. Marcus's eyes blinked at the sudden change in Damon's eyes. Almost as if-

Baird was quick to shove Fenix away, hoping to play off his blush as anger, snarling, "No. No problems at all, boss man."

The hardened anger had faded somewhat in the Sergeant's icy eyes. Rather, it started to fill with confused curiosity.

Dangerous.

Before Marcus could open his mouth, Baird looked pointedly away, at the gawking spectators spotting the mess hall. He couldn't risk Marcus finding out. Baird may not have a problem with guys fucking guys, but his pride definitely had a problem with rejection.

He had enough of that from his mother and father. Even though they had clawed handholds into his life until the day they died.

And nothing he had noted about the other showed the slightest bit of interest in Baird.

Hell, Baird himself hadn't known he was interested in Marcus that way until last night.

The blonde redirected his anger to the unwanted attention of the room full of COG soldiers, "The fuck you ladies lookin' at? This ain't no goddamn spectator sport."

Damon made to walk away, but didn't notice Marcus there until he grabbed the blonde's arm.

"Baird..." Marcus frowned, wanting to know what the hell was going on.

But the Sergeant was the last person Baird wanted to figure any of this out.

He quickly snagged his arm back, backing away as he snarked crossly, "Already told you, sir. Got no problems. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some bouquets and daises I gotta prepare for our next grub encounter."

He wished he hadn't glanced one last time into those cold eyes.

Marcus's frown had deepened. The look in his glassy orbs promised Baird this wasn't over.

But if it was up to the blonde genius, it definitely was.

Baird should have factored in the chances of success once Marcus Fenix had his sights set on something.

Because it was basically a big, friggin' zero.

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(1) I realize this is Sera, not Earth. Just needed a reference we could relate to, and Everest just fit.

A/N: Any interest in this pairing? Don't wanna dish out chapters if no one's hungry.
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Gears of Denial