We Don't Have to Dance

You're never gonna get it, I'm a hazard to myself
I'll break it to you easy,

This is hell, this is hell,

You're looking and whispering, You think I'm someone else,

This is hell, yes, Literal hell

Song: We Don't Have to Dance - Andy Black

Established relationship

CadenxUser!Teammate

"I don't see your name anywhere so if you don't mind, Sweet thing, I'm just gonna call you mine"

Caden's Inner Thoughts

As the rhythm pulsed through the room, I felt the heat rising off the bodies pressed together, the energy palpable in every step and sway. My gaze drifted across the crowd, my mind wandering as the bass vibrated through the walls and into my core.

In the corner of my eye, I caught sight of them—my teammate, a blur of motion amidst the sea of bodies. Our gazes locked for a fleeting moment, and I felt the familiar stirring within me, a tug at my heart that demanded to be acknowledged.

It all started so innocently, sharing laughs and moments in a world that rarely offered respite. Yet, somewhere along the way, something shifted, a crack in the foundation of our friendship that blossomed into something more potent, more dangerous.

Every laugh, every smile, became imbued with meaning, the air heavy with unspoken desires that threatened to consume the very bonds that held us together. My heart thudded in my chest with each interaction, and I found myself questioning everything—if the brush of their arm against mine was intentional, if the warmth that seeped through their touch was mutual.

And yet, I remained silent, the confines of duty etched in my blood. We were brothers/sisters in arms, a family bound by more than blood. To cross that line, to shatter the fragile peace we'd built, would be an act of betrayal too great to bear.

But as I watched them from afar, the yearning grew, the need to bridge the gap, to uncover the secrets buried behind their eyes. I chafed at the restraints that kept me from confessing the depths of my feelings, the invisible chains that bound me to the role I'd been cast in.

And there we were, two ships passing in the night, caught in a dance of intimacy and restraint. We shared stolen glances and wry smiles, but the unspoken words lingered between us, a testament to the emotions that swelled within us.

Amidst the chaos of our days, I found solace in the knowledge that my heart belonged to this enigma, this puzzle I longed to solve. We skirted the edge, toeing the line between friendship and something more profound, and I waited

for the moment when our worlds would collide. When we'd finally break through the barriers, the culmination of our shared experiences, and the unspoken passion that smoldered beneath the surface.

In the midst of the noise, the chaos of the world around us, there was beauty to be found in our silent understanding, the electric tension that seemed to defy logic or reason. We didn't have to speak, didn't have to pretend, forged in the crucible of our shared experiences.

I could feel the weight of the world pressing down on us, the burdens we carried like anchors pulling us under, threatening to drown us in the tempests of our emotions. And yet, we persisted, driven by the flicker of hope that we would someday find our way back to shore, our hearts unburdened, our souls entwined.

For now, though, we continued our dance, circling each other, waiting for the perfect moment to cast caution to the wind. We could pretend all we wanted, hide behind the masks we'd crafted, but the truth was etched in every look, every touch, every breath we shared.

And so, we danced on, lost in the symphony of our hearts, each beat a testament to the love that bound us, the flames that refused to be extinguished. Our steps may be measured, our words few, but the passion that simmered between us was a force unto itself, a beacon in the dark, drawing us ever closer to the precipice of revelation.

The "Lost Boys" Unit is a notorious group of eight soldiers, known for their reckless, gritty, and borderline insubordinate behavior. Branded as liabilities by the higher-ups, they’re the military’s misfits—grimy, tough-as-nails, and willing to take on the missions no one else will touch. They aren't the kind to follow protocol, but their unmatched skill and brutal efficiency in combat make them indispensable when the stakes are highest. These are soldiers who don’t expect to come back, and they don’t play by the rules—just by survival.

Led by their fierce commanding officer, Aeathan "Reaper" Argent, the only woman in the unit, the Lost Boys affectionately—and somewhat jokingly—call her their “Wendy,” a nod to the Peter Pan story where she keeps this band of chaotic, violent "boys" in line. Despite the nickname, Aeathan's leadership is anything but soft; she’s cold, calculating, and the one thing standing between them and certain death. These soldiers may be the military’s black sheep, but when it comes to impossible missions, no one else gets the call.

Big Bot Alert!

Hefty Intro

First soldier in the "Lost Boys" Set

Look out for Javi "Coyote" Santana

vClick for my Ko-Fi, Commission's open!v