Chapter Text
A sturdy fighter plane, dark red, painted with the initials HS on the side in thick black paint strokes.
This was the legendary Hornetstinger.
Not many had flown her. She was said to be a fussy plane, real fussy, only accepting certain pilots breaking down and spluttering under the control of others.
Some thought perhaps it was Sallie Kane, the owner of the plane beforehand.
The one with a rumoured girlfriend.
Sallie herself was said to like teasing the boys with what she would never give, with a subtle tip of her black top hat as she draped herself over her girlfriend, who remained unnamed, almost anonymous, for good reason.
Sallie’s spirit was said to inhabit the vessel, but most blew it off as superstition.
Even so, many willing pilots tried and failed to pilot the airliner near the Second World War.
Redrano Hound, a plucky chain-smoking Italian, had just received his secret top surgery the year before and had trained hard with gruelling nights to be fit for the plane, hoping if the superstition was true that Sallie welcomed him.
He was nervous and, like many transgender individuals, had to pass as a male so as not to be kicked out of the force or, most likely, killed.
Redrano was a bright twenty-three-year-old when he took the throttle nervously in his black-gloved hand.
Pilot goggles strapped to his tanned, freckled face, his dark brown blonde fluffy lined trench coat snug around his black button-up shirt.
He inhaled, clutched his tooth necklace, and waited for the plane to accept or reject him with bated breath.
‘come on, Sallie, pass on the nido’
A soft breath merged with each thought.
‘Prometto che mi prenderò cura di lei’
A few seconds later, the engine purred to life after he switched on all the needed buttons. Then, a flight test later, he was officially marked The Hornetstinger's new captain.
The transman werebear was ecstatic, jumping out of the carrier, helmet and gas mask discarded, fist pumped to the sky as he embraced his comrades.
The next few years went by almost in a flash.
The Italian would train, avoid full moons, and plan accordingly when he would go into a rut, go to a bar, and have a girl ride him that gave him a chance all night with his harness strap-on, the mattress being the constant soundtrack behind them.
Redrano was a charmer with a smirk that could win awards and melt hearts.
Maybe that was one of the things he got from his father. He was grateful he got more from Hillary than Tommison.
He would collapse by the end of the night, feeling cocky with a cancer stick in between his teeth which, after the girl had fallen asleep, turned to sharp pointy fangs as he stopped pretending to be human.
It was a constant struggle, one he personally endured.
The bed was his castle, and he was the hypersexual king.
He had been behind his office desk as he was given a slip of paper from the sergeant stating that his new co-pilot would be at the night show at the cabaret.
Redrano really did not want a co-pilot.
The Hornetstinger was his baby until it was passed on to the next pilot, Sallie, once again letting the engine purr for another.
For the moment in the 1940s, the Ursidae was possessive over the plane and definitely did not want to share it with a co-pilot, even if it was for safety reasons as he was about to head into the war-filled skies of France.
A thumb press of his The “Racer” by Quercia 1930 and his cigarette sparked to life in the seat at the cabaret as some performance started setting up.
Meeting anyone had to be hush-hush; the only hint he was given on the paper was that his co-pilot would be drinking a red cocktail.
His said co-pilot Colton Day hid behind a newspaper, their own little slip of paper from Sargent Hickson Lintknock, alerting them that their new flight captain would find them.
The place was flashy, Almost too flashy.
They had no clue about the play that was just setting up.
As instructed, they ordered a red cocktail to stand out like a beacon to the ones who knew and just seem like one who liked a colourful cocktail to others.
Their senses as a werefox had slightly dulled as they took a sip of their drink, not noticing the alcohol content, and it went straight to their head with a soft buzz and a ‘Where am I again?’
Redrano glanced around as he tapped his boot. He saw many people, but a brief glance at the blonde, who was wearing a blue bomber jacket with blonde fur, much like his own brown trench coat with fluffy blonde fur, for the moment, made his eyes linger.
The fluffy-haired blonde hid behind a newspaper, blue eyes down, shyly sipping at a scarlet cocktail.
Suddenly, the chatter in the room calmed down, and glasses hit the tables with a soft thump as a man in a swish suit stepped forward, his fabric hugged smoothly around him like most clothes worn by the wealthy.
Redrano had to suppress an eye roll as his coat was clearly oversized but still his signature staple.
“evening, ladies and gentlemen”
“Tonight's performance will be a lovely showing of Love Me Tonight.”
“the bar will be open and has December specials; please continue to order your meals.”
“ We ask that chats be kept to a minimum, now without further ado, Love Me Tonight.”
He bowed and disappeared backstage as the crowd applauded.
Colton leaned on their palm as they stirred their cocktail from boredom, waiting for the right time to order what they actually wanted.
"Excuse me"
Redrano approached their table, towering over them. He glanced down with a smirk and placed a hand on the table.
Colton glanced up at the man who approached their table.
Their breath almost caught in their throat.
Captain Redrano Hound had tanned skin with freckles dotted all over the place; they did not know why they itched to grab a pen and connect them all like constellations, but the craving wrapped around their brain.
He had a dark eclipse button-up shirt under a dark chocolate trench coat with a blonde fluffy lining and a single tooth around a necklace.
The captain’s hair was dark red, with blonde locks at the front hidden behind even more fluffy dark red locks.
Colton could not deny that he was like an artwork come to life.
“Ah….yeah, yeah, what can I help you with?”
They coughed behind their sleeve gently as they pushed the cocktail away when the Italian loomed over them.
Redrano's smirk widened as he saw how the small werefox froze in front of him, looking like a deer in the headlights.
He leaned closer, placing his other hand on the table, boxing them in as he leaned forward and got into their personal bubble.
They were fascinating, like an artist scanning the galleries and staring too long at a painting many would walk past.
The way they seemed to take in his appearance, he could feel their eyes on each freckle on his tan face, like a paintbrush was tracing each one delicately with a feather-like touch.
It made him feel special to be stared at.
Colton, however, wasn’t terrible to gaze upon themself.
The enby fennec werefox with their dark blue hooded blonde fluffy lined bomber jacket, warm grey jumper, and a raw angel aura quartz necklace around their neck.
Fluffy, short blonde hair with slight blonde stubble and blue eyes like the vast deep oceans, unexplored, untouched, magical, alluring.
He leaned closer to their ear, the tobacco smoke flowing from the corner of his mouth and swirling around like it was alive, an animal tamed and shackled to the Hound.
"I think you already know what I want, piccola volpe."
Colton tugged at their collar as a sweat patch formed and dripped under their neck.
“Um…..”
‘Damn it Day’
‘you're not going to be charmed into a one-night stand by some charming Werecreature!’
“Cute, but I'm actually here on business.”
The blonde linked their hands together.
“Meeting my new boss, you see”
They glanced around, still cautious of Nazi spies that wanted nothing more than to make sure The Hornetstinger never flew again.
Colton could see them and their pilot when he arrived, being given a brutal bullet delivery and kicked into a ditch.
Redrano’s smirk dropped at the bitter word ‘business.’
"Business?"
He glanced over to the red cocktail, and it clicked through his bear hormones.
“oh, it’s you.”
He grumbled and sat down in the chair opposite them, his leg folded as he glanced away.
The play was flowery and romantic, and the set design was a marvel to witness.
Colton found themselves mesmerised more by the props than the copy-paste story of ‘boy meets girl’ they had read, seen, and heard more times than they could flip a coin in one sitting.
“Dort der Hund”
A soft growl and a click were heard from above, just near the nosebleeds.
Blue eyes widened in alert like they would in the wild as soon as their fox senses heard the click.
“Fuck, descendre!”
Quickly, they pushed Redrano out of the crossfire before they flipped the table on the edge.
The bullet hit it like a shield, splitting the posh wood.
Redrano grunted as he was shoved out of the way, his cigarette crushed in his fangs as they shifted out.
A few people around them gasped in terror at the sound of the bullet hitting the table; the others followed like dominos.
“Bastardi”
He ducked behind the table at an animalistic speed.
“Well, what a nice meeting, aye, cadet?”
“Redrano Hound, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
He smirked, his fangs almost glistened in the warm red light as the table was sprayed with bullets.
“Oh yeah, fabulous!”
“Great time to introduce yourself captain”
Colton growled as the cabaret erupted into blood-chilling screams and smashes of glasses.
They pulled up their hood and tried to check for exits as they kept their palms flat and alert on the floor.
Redrano quickly skimmed around before he saw the emergency exit door.
“No time like the present. Come on!"
He grabbed their arm and pulled them up in a flurry.
Colton glanced behind them, then ran in pace with Redrano as the sniper switched to a Tommy gun.
The captain kicked down the emergency exit door and slammed it behind them before he led them into the cramped, dark alleyway.
He let them go and stood against the brick wall, chest heaving; his dark red-furred bear ears flickered as his eyes darted around wildly.
“Ugh, cazzo! Follow me!”
He grabbed their wrist again and led them over to his brown motorbike with slick vintage mirrors piling from the sides.
The cries and bullets ran out, and boisterous, angry demands in German filled the night air.
Redrano quickly leapt onto his motorbike and yanked them behind him.
"Hold on!"
He turned the engine on and sped off, tyres screeching into the night like the hint of a ghostly whisper.
Colton held on tight to Redrano’s coat, instinctively wrapping their arms around him as the motorbike took off.
A black car shortly followed behind.
“Shit!”
The blonde peeked behind themselves as their short hair whipped in the nightly chill, and the speed lifted the fluffy strands airborne.
“bande de cochons”
“Hickson was not lying; they really want us dead.”
Colton gripped him tighter, their heart thumping in their chest like a startled rabbit’s paws on the run from a hunt.
Redrano glanced behind him at the black car as his eyes narrowed.
He leaned down to get a better grip as the motorbike sped through the streets.
"Hang on tight, piccola volpe!"
The motorbike sped past cars and people on the sidewalk as the Italian maneuvered the vehicle in a zigzag pattern.
“er, entkommt!”
“schneller, schneller!”
One of the agents rattled the driver, which caused a rise in speed on the London streets.
Colton stuffed their face into Redrano’s back as the high-speed chase continued.
“Shit were dead, were so fucking dead!.”
One agent in the car nearly lost his pistol out of the window as the wind blew wildly.
"Schneller, Schneller!"
The driver pressed harder on the pedal as the black car gained ground.
"Verdammt, du fahrst wie ein verdammter Idiot!"
Redrano gripped the handles tighter.
“stay calm, dolce Volpe. Have faith in your captain.”
He weaved the motorbike between cars and through the alleyways, slipping past narrow, closed-in walls and bumpy gutters.
“I got this”
“Hang tight, dolce bebè.”
He said, determined, as his tooth necklace bounced around.
Redrano sped up and rode up a ramp leading to construction on another building.
His and, for that matter, Colton’s image mirrored on the glass as the agent's car followed alongside them but hardly, if at all, matched the speed of the seasoned motorbike rider.
When they got through the vast city maze of mirrors, Redrano, at the very last split second, crashed through one of the standing finished glass walls, turning it into a spectacle of a million diamond pieces and kissed the agent's car with a bump of his front wheel before the speed caused him to spin sideways.
It seemed like a sure crash was waiting to happen, but as the wheels hit the road with a bump jump of the rubber, he balanced with his leg and grazed the road with his gloved fingertips, a hint of gravel on the tanned tips before he took off again, a cloud of dust behind him.
Colton held on for dear life, still seeing the broken glass glitter down.
They swore time slowed down as Redrano glanced back with a proud, prideful, shit-eating grin. The passenger and rider's eyes locked as the glass rained down.
‘This-this is my captain?….fuck, he’s amazing.’
With the adrenaline or perhaps something else, their heart thumped in their chest.
They stuffed their face into his coat.
“Colton…Colton Day”
Their muffled voice vibrated like a soft rumble through his coat.
Redrano, with adrenaline pumping through his veins and a grin plastered on his face, sped through the streets, the only sounds being the motorbike’s engine and the wind through the two riders' hair.
He glanced back for a moment, catching their eyes and noticing the look of awe.
"as I said, cadet, it’s a pleasure."
He could feel them press their face into his coat.
After a while, the black car was far behind, and Redrano’s adrenaline and breathing slowed steadily.
He felt how Colton’s body pressed against his, their chest against his back, their arms around him, their fingers gripping tight, their face planted into his coat, A fox cub holding onto a stuffed teddy.
It made his chest thunder.
‘cazzo!’
He felt his t-dick get excited as it rubbed against his pants with the one hugged around his back.
He stiffened in his seat and tried to just focus on steering the bike so they did not fall off and crash, making some slapped-together short bulletins of a motorcycle crash show up in the paper.
‘no no non adesso, Sono il loro capitano, questo non è un appuntamento’
He glanced back again and saw Colton gently shake the leftover tiny glass fragments from their blonde hair.
‘oh, angelo’
He felt a growl bubble up in his chest, but he shook himself off and focused back on the road.
Colton felt Redrano’s chest gently start to vibrate before it halted.
They could not deny the chemistry even if they just met and the adrenaline of escaping.
They could only hold him close and try to stay calm.
He was their captain, and if they crossed that line, Court-martial would be all over them.
It was a war, and they needed to stay focused.
“Thank you, captain. I think we lost them.”
He felt the vibrations from his chest as the adrenaline of the ride and the chase left his system.
His eyes were still on the road as he felt Colton’s hands around him and their body pressed close.
It was a comfort, one he felt his body suddenly crave.