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Bitters and Palomo had always had a tense relationship. It was kind of different too. Sometimes where they were alone two tan helmets with bright trim would clatter to ground and suddenly Palomo would be really close. Their lips would meet sometimes with anger behind them, rough and bruising, sometimes it was soft and sweet and Bitter's would smile against Palomo's lips. In those moments they felt like they finally had breathing room, away from other rebels. But they didn't really grasp what they were doing. They were just kids after all, 18 and 19. Even when words were only spoken between them, away from prying ears, the word 'dating' had never described them. Hell, they weren't even really friends. But Palomo could sure shut Bitters up with a kiss. So he did.
Naturally they never said 'I love you'. Why would they?
Sometimes they'd just sit together, in private, helmets on the ground, only with half of their armor on. Palomo would brush his thumb over Bitters' chapped lips, rubbing lightly over the piercing that was there too. Bitters would nearly crack and smile because it was nice, Palomo's fingers were soft and they would move and brush over his cheeks and then he'd feel lips on his own and for once during this godforsaken war he felt home. And hell, it was amazing and his fingers would grasp at Palomo's messy hair and they would just kiss and kiss and kiss. Afterwards their foreheads would press together and they would pant quietly, lips just barely brushing due to the closeness.
Bitters' kisses tended to taste minty from the excess amount of gum he chewed in attempts to hide the smell of smoke on his breath. He knew Palomo hated it. The mint taste made everything feel cold and electric when their mouths met and they loved it.
But then the new captains showed up and a lot changed. Free time grew limited slowly and Bitters found himself yelling at Palomo in front of others more than he was alone with him, kissing. He wasn't sure about what his thoughts on that were. He wasn't sure about his thoughts on anything involved with Palomo anymore. That dumb gap in his teeth made his stomach twist. Then there was his mop of dark hair that was always a mess no matter what and Bitters just wanted to feel it between his fingers. And his smooth skin that was tanner than Bitters' own. Not to mention the few freckles dotted around his amber eyes. Hell, Palomo really was quite..pretty. And that made Bitters frustrated and confused because he'd never seen someone as gorgeous as Palomo.
But no, he wasn't in love.
Because growing up he had a brother and he looked up to him. He wanted to be like him. And his brother had loved girls. So of course, he tried to. He really did. Well, telling himself he didn't like Palomo counted as trying right?
But after Palomo returned from his squads mission, deflated and defeated Bitters found himself alone with the younger man. Their helmets clattered to the ground and they were kissing and it tasted like tears because Palomo was crying but he just pressed his lips hard against Bitters'. And soon the older's hands were tangled in messy hair and they just kissed.
And he loved it.
It made him feel real, the press of Palomo's lips, the hand pressed to his cheek, the way Palomo's eyes squeezed shut while his own gently closed. The way their panting breaths mingled together between kisses, the way Bitters would brush their lips lightly before going in for another kiss, the way Palomo would get frustrated and pull Bitters close so he could kiss him again.
But he wasn't in love.
This went on and on and on. Kissing, yelling, not friends. Training, yelling, kissing. Eating, sleeping, kissing. Palomo was slowly becoming a part of his daily life and they'd almost been found out countless times. Training was rough so afterwards they would tuck themselves away to get lost in each other.
Until their captains disappeared.
That day was spent trying to feel better. So they tucked themselves away, Palomo had managed to snag a bottle of vodka and a pack of cigarettes. Bitters pulled out his matches and lit a cigarette, blowing smoke out in front of him while Palomo tipped back the bottle, grimacing at the taste. They sat there in tank tops and baggy shorts, having abandoned their armor hours earlier. There were no captains training them after all.
"That's bad for you, ya know."
"A lot of things are bad for you." Bitters met Palomo's gaze. The younger man wasn't sure if he meant the drinking or the kissing, honestly. Maybe both.
"I know."
In record time the bottle was resting on the ground next to where Palomo sat and Bitters' cigarette was snuffed out. Within moments Palomo was on Bitters' lap and their laps. It tasted atrocious, alcohol and smoke. It was messy, saliva coated their lips and their teeth knocked together. Palomo's fingers grabbed at the material of Bitters' tank top and Bitters' fingers snagged themselves in Palomo's hair. The older man pressed sloppy kisses along Palomo's jaw and nipped angrily at his neck, leaving marks that Palomo wouldn't be able to really explain. His thoughts were cut off as their lips crashed again.
It was over in moments or had it been hours. Either way both seemed slightly panicked afterwards and rushed to get into armor as they heard Kimball's voice ring out around the compound, calling in Palomo, Bitters, Smith, and Jensen. Bitters' stomach twisted but hey, at least Palomo's armor hid the bruises on his neck.
They made sure to show up a little bit apart, standing beside Jensen and Smith.
Felix was back.
The captains weren't.
Felix broke the news, voice cracking a bit as he said it, slowly. The captains were dead. He had been too late.
Something snapped inside Bitters. He saw Palomo crumple in on himself. He saw Jensen collapse against Smith. He saw Smith wrapping his arms around Jensen. His throat felt tight and he was cursing, flailing his arms angrily as he stormed off to another sector of the building. In a barren hallway he threw his fist into the wall, yelling and yelling because the captains were not supposed to die. Grif was not supposed to die. They'd been through too much to be taken out like that! His fist collided with the wall again and he heard something thumb as it hit the ground. Panting, fists clenched he turned, Palomo entered his field of vision, helmet at his feet, tear tracks on his face.
"Bitters?"
Bitters ripped his helmet off, throwing it onto the ground, face red. It bounced a bit before clattering to a stop.
"It's not fair! They left us! They just left us!" Bitters was yelling, a bit of spittle was the product of the force which he spoke with. And he stumbled over to Palomo, a shaky breath pulled through his lips as he threw his arms around Palomo's middle, pulling him close. The younger man's armor was pressing hard and uncomfortable against Bitters' face as he left it rest on his shoulder. "They left."
Shaking breaths escaped Bitters as he squeezed his eyes shut, a few tears pushed through and his shoulders started to shake as sobs left him. He hiccuped loudly and held onto Palomo because he was hurt, he was tired, it was too much and he couldn't be strong.
"B-Bitters?" Palomo was startled and he held onto the man, pressing his nose into his hair. He'd never seen the taller man like this, it scared him.
"Palomo." Bitters lifted his head, marks pressed into his cheek from Palomo's armor. He opened his mouth to respond but Bitters crashed their lips together, it tasted like tears. Their lips were wet and it was just sloppy, but it grounded them and when Bitters pulled away he had already stopped crying. It still hurt though. But they had each other and Bitters wasn't going to lie to himself anymore because he wasn't a fucking idiot. They could die tomorrow. So he opened his mouth and the words tumbled out, leaving Palomo red faced and with a shaky grin.
"I love you."