A life of fights usually was accompanied by the better times. In case of the Lacus Militia, they now and then had a great party, drinking too much alcohol and eating tons of meat and other junk food until morning dawned and the whole base was off guard for some hours. Which wasn't a problem, as there never would have been anyone stupid enough to attack the heavily armoured, well-watched base with the biggest assembly of elite soldiers the world knew.

Though, sometimes, the men felt awkward when this special party was coming closer. Sure, as soon as ever of them had drunk enough beer to cloud their minds with mischief, they would forget about their worries, stuff themselves with meat becoming more raw over the hours of celebrating, until they all would drop on the spot and snore worse than a bunch of lumberjacks.

The feared and at the same time seized day drew closer, Sier being indifferent about it on the outside, while Vergil babbled about nothing else the week before the party. Surely, there would be wounded from stupid fistfights and a lot of quarreling, but hey, this happened only once a year!

-*-*-*-

"Now come on, Sier, stop bitching around an... and drink something!" One could definitely hear Vergil had been drinking a little too much already. Quite a performance, as it needed quite much to get the lieutnant drunk, or that far he would start talking like that to Sier. Just another reason to hate the 'Slaughter Party', as the men called it this morbidly.

At no other time anywhere in the land, one could find more testosterone, brawns and drunk speech at a single spot. Plus, these were the defense of the land. If the civilians would have seen what one time each year was bound to happen, they most probably would have lost any faith in the Lacus Militia. Which would have been bad, to say the least.

Sier sneered a little as he watched Vergil starting to ramble about the missions of the past year, which always was an important part of all of this. As if they released a whole year's pent-up feelings, they could forget about all those horrid creatures and just be... well, sort of 'innocent'.

Noone would still have believed the officers of the Lacus Militia were unsoiled in any respect. After all, their base had been set up a felt eternity ago, not allowing any thoughts on the past before having joined the Militia. Which was kind of a relief, as it most possibly would have gotten in the way big time.

-*-*-*-

It was only about 10 PM now (the 'Slaughter Party' had started just at sunset, at half past 9 precise), and most of the men already were in their best telling mood. Bragging was an absolute must, so an average Shadow Crawler turned into a whole pack of them, Winged Nightmares became their more feared relatives, the Silent Deaths, and so on.

Sier just wondered where Vergil had gone, as he discovered the lieutnant with a group of especially bulky officers. And as it seemed, he now was rambling about the giant with the third neck eye they once had met. Oh buggers, what would Vergil make of that encounter? It already was annoying to listen to all those stories, but if Vergil started about their own, it only grew worse.

To distract himself, Sier picked up a beer and began gulping it down like there was no tomorrow. He just wanted to get done with it fast, as he never had liked those stupid parties really. Vergil enjoyed them, but he thought of it as a disgrace. Wondering why he was even more tensed up than usually, Sier joined a random group of babbling officers and listened. There was no need to be all grumpy and stuff, after all.

-*-*-*-

"So there was this big shadow, and belive me, he was the biggest damn freak I ever encountered so far. As civilian, I totally would have chickened out." Vergil hadn't too many problems to pronounce clearly what he was trying to tell, but there clearly already was the impact of alcohol. Not that he minded really...

"And what did you do? Heard this bastard killed two of our men and wouldn't stop, even with a fucking bullet in his head." one of the officers grumbled, face red with the impact of too much beer (apparently ten bottles, seemed to be one of the tougher ones). "Well, wait, I have... to think..."

Vergil staggered a little, taking another huge gulp of beer. "Ah, now the memory is kicking back in." he grinned, looking a little goofy there. "So, this giant freak wanted to smash us all with this steel pipe, so there had to be damn quick action. You should have seen Sier then. Jumped on the giant's back and stabbed the blade right into that freak's neck. He had a third eye there, a real eye he was able to see with. Made him stagger and stuff."

Impressed murmuring, followed by the loud swallowing sounds of twelve men drinking beer. "And how did the giant die then?" the officer asked on, his body involuntarily rocking from side to side. "Fell on his back and forced the blade right between his neck vertebras. Fucking killed this big pile of shit."

Vergil burped loudly, making the others laugh loudly and triggering a little burp contest, which was won by the bulkiest of those guys (or so, Vergil assumed, as he couldn't see just how big every single of them was). Wow, he had managed without bragging so far. Boring! So he continued with more of those giants, having been killed with more and more absurd tactics.

-*-*-*-

Sier began feeling the impact of the beer as one of the last, still before midnight, but that was early enough. He hadn't begun rambling already, but most of the officers already knew he was telling the greatest stories and barely had to brag to make them sound good. It just needed more time for him to get ready.

And as it was long after midnight, Sier finally broke down his barriers successfully (it had needed surprisingly much beer, as Sier could take more than one would think) and started talking big just like the other officers. Some already were out cold, mostly the newbies which had made the mistake to drink too much at the begin and miss the still greater end of the party. Well, their loss, and not his.

Sier needed more time to get to the point, as he was telling more than most of them. He may didn't look like it, but he was a great story teller. He couldn't quite explain why he had this talent, but he preferred to not question it and make good use of this ability instead. Which now earned him all of the others' attention.

Luckily, the fistfights took place before midnight, after that, they all stopped with the inevitable fights, brought the knocked out to their barracks and went back to drink more and forget about the preceeding incidents having let to this need of taking their knocked out comrades back to their beds. If there still had been fights, there surely would have been at least one to be envious and try to beat up Sier.

But through this still kept up order (discipline wasn't only a bitch, but a life insurance, too), Sier could ramble about the past year's incidents exactly like he wanted, as long as he wanted, and brag as if there wouldn't be another 'Slaughter Party'. Which almost was the case; each year, there was the threat to end this annual festivity. But tell that a bunch of men with more brawns than a pack of gorillas. Everything clear now?

Vergil was trying to listen as Sier began telling about the giant, but his mind was too clouded with alcohol for him to be really focused on that. After all, he had been drinking a damn lot and already had had to go for a piss three or four times. Others were even worse than him at this party, but well, he couldn't be the best everywhere, right? He could put up with 'just' being one of the top officers and not more.

Memories fogged over more and more with the ongoing of Sier's story, only the laughter around him was coming to Vergil's mind. His thoughts began drifting off to the moments he had shared with his partner. Not only the fights and this stuff, but the more intimate ones, too. There had been many touches and kisses, but Vergil's body and soul ached for more. For more of this closeness, more than those almost chaste kisses and touches they exchanged.

-*-*-*-

Waking up... Ugh, that wasn't a word. It was like coming back from the dead, rising from the grave called bed and still being filled up with alcohol like being a bottle of beer himself. Vergil barely was able to keep his burning eyes open, which surely were bloodshot and watering as the aggressive sunrays already hit him fully on the face. He was lying in his own bed, at least, and wouldn't cause an embarassing situation.

He glanced over to Sier, who was soundly sleeping and snoring loudly next to his bed. Not next to Vergil's bed, but next to his own. On the floor? Seriously? The lieutnant covered his face with the pillow, grumbling to himself. So not his problem. So not. If Sier couldn't properly go to bed after drinking too much, it wasn't of Vergil's concern.

It didn't take long until Vergil was out cold again, sleeping for several more hours while his liver was working like mad to process all this alcohol. His stomach was heavy with too much, partly burned, partly completely raw meat, which surely would be a damn funny pain on it's own.

-*-*-*-

The day after the party always was a rather silent one, drenched with the stench of puke, alcohol and bad mood. The officers tried to recollect the events while their minds had blackened out, slowly forming the image of this damn fine 'Slaughter Party' which most possibly had slaughtered someone's liver (nothing which couldn't be fixed) and dignity (which was a little more tricky, but still to be managed).

Sier and Vergil both had asked for vacancy and had been granted some, as they had worked especially hard before the grand party had ruined their health for at least two days. Which left the two officers 12 more days they could pass all sober and happy. Hopefully, that was, as one never could be sure if the next mayor crisis wouldn't take place any time soon.

They were dropped off at Sier's house, both of them happy they were on their own now. Vergil stared at the plants in the front garden, acting rather zombie-like, while Sier tried to unlock his door. He was successful after several tries, stumbling in and calling out for Vergil four times before the lieutnant snapped out of his zombie mode and followed his partner inside.

They dedicated the whole day to a fight against the massive hangover. Both of them puked sometimes and had to take strong painkillers against the headache, but finally, they could feel the crushing headache subside enough to leave room for sober thoughts. Which mostly circled around the fear they most likely had embarassed themselves completely at the party. Oh yeah, what fun...

-*-*-*-

But the aftermath of the 'Slaughter Party' soon was forgotten as they had time for themselves now. The officers showed their affection towards each other more openly, as they were all on their own for two relaxing weeks, so there was no need to hold anything back. So after all, there had been something positive about being that sick.

Sier still had a slightly heavy feeling on his stomach, and Vergil wasn't too much in a mood for really talking, but eventually, they sat on the sofa in the living room, cuddled close to each other and remembering once more how everything had started. Just another reason to thank destiny to let their ways cross and intertwine.

"Unbelievable I have fallen in love with the annoying lieutnant having ordered me avout and all this crap." Sier muttered, his face snuggled against the other officer's neck. "Unbelievable I could win the heart of a stubborn loner who seemed to be more frosty than an icicle." Vergil countered, a smirk on his face. "But hey, no regrets there, right?"

Sier shook his head. "Absolutely none, Sir." he muttered, suddenly gnawing a little on Vergil's neck. "Eh, if you're hungry, then go look for something, but don't try eating me." Vergil joked. Sier sneered slightly, biting a little more roughly on Vergil's neck. "Try to stop me if you can. But I bet you won't, right, Vergil?"

The lieutnant acted annoyed, but there was no way he could deny the feeling of Sier being that playful towards him was good. But if there had to be a 'Slaughter Party' preceeding those gentle caresses, he would have to think of a more effective way to provoke Sier a little there.

"Just you wait, little cat, I will eat you alive." Vergil growled lowly, snatching Sier and locking the other in an unusual passionate kiss. He wanted Sier, and there was no way he could hold back now. The two of them had been through so much already, he wanted to find out now if Sier as ready. According to the other's feverish expression, Sier was.

-*-*-*-

Their clothes had been discarded all across the house, and by the time they had reached the bedroom, nothing but their briefs and dogtags were left. Taking their 'jewelery' off, Sier and Vergil now locked eyes and, for a long time just looking at each other. They already had shared that much, had told each other of their sorrowful, horrible past, and over the time, a bond between them had formed. Both males felt it, it clearly was there, telling how the other felt.

"If you..." Vergil started, but was stopped by a finger on his lips. "No talking now, if it's nothing sexual." Sier commanded, smirking wickedly and looking forbidden good. Vergil returned that smirk, obviously turned on quite some by the sight the other male was offering him. Like the answer of all the suffering he had gone through, and maybe much more.

"Sier, you are trembling." Vergil whispered, his hands stroking down the other male's body. "I'm just a little nervous." Sier gave back lowly, wrapping his arms tightly around Vergil's neck and pulling his partner close, brushing his lips against Vergil's. "But I'm ready. I'm so ready for this."