°~Correlation~°

°~Chapter One~°

It had been a few months ever since the incident that happened in Las Almas, Graves had gotten over it pretty quickly. Well...he got over the event, but the loss of his PMC's? Never. He lost so many good, loyal soldiers that day, it was a debt he didn't know how to pay. So, he simply decided to just keep the PMCs he still had close, he needed his 'boys', they were everything to him.

He and his PMC's were stationed in California, near San Diego, just for a bit before they could go to Urzikstan.

One of the PMCs asked Graves if they could go to a gay club downtown. Graves had never been to a gay club, he was horrified at even the thought of it. Graves had been to a club before, hell, he was a stripper after highschool, so the club part wasn't bad. But, the gay part? Graves wasn't necessarily homophobic, but he definitely wasn't as accepting. His mother had kicked him out when he was fifteen when she found out he was experimenting with his sexuality. So, Graves obviously suppressed any thought of being gay. But, Graves reluctantly accepted the proposal, if there was alcohol involved, he always accepted.

Graves hesitantly approached the door, he glanced at his PMC's one last time before opening the door to the gay club. Graves figured he would just get absolutely wasted, so he could make time pass by much quicker.

Graves glanced around the place, it was clean, loud music was blasting, although it wasn't loud enough to actually hurt, there were a few rainbow lights. A bar near the back of the club, there was a lot of people, a lot more than Graves was used to, Graves liked crowds, but he was pretty stressed right now. Most people were dancing, dressed in quite scandalous outfits, Graves began to rethink his clothing choice, he was just wearing jeans, and a black and gray flannel. Pretty boring, he didn't intend to dress nicely, so he didn't.

Graves quickly sauntered to the back of the club, to the bar. He ordered himself a few shots of tequila, his favorite, but it would never beat whiskey. Graves watched the other people in the club, a bit bored. Most of the men were just dancing, drinking, or grinding against eachother. Sometimes all three. He quickly finished off the first shot of tequila, then the second, then the third, and so many more. He started to loose track. He began to get very, and I mean, very tipsy. He wasn't quite drunk yet, but he was a little dazed.

After a few more minutes, a man sat next to him at the bar. The man had dark brown hair, brown eyes, he had very short stubble so short it barely existed, he was about 5'11 so he was only an inch taller than Graves himself. He didn't feel an inch taller though, Graves felt like the man was atleast 3 inches taller, but it was probably just the alcohol affecting him. The man was a bit stronger, broader shoulders, rough hands, and a mean smirk on his face.

"What's a pretty boy like you doing here alone?"

The mysterious man spoke with a thick, velvety Russian accent. Graves rolled his eyes, he could admit the man was quite handsome, but he wouldn't accept his dumb game.

"Buzz off Ruski, I ain't gonna go to bed with ya."

Graves accent was quite different to the Russians, but the Russian seemed to like the thick Southern accent. The Russians smirk simply grew as Graves spoke.

"Well then, I'll just offer you a drink then, how about that, Дорогой?"  (I don't speak Russian, clearly, so please tell me if it's wrong)

Graves stopped for a second, he would never not accept a free drink. But then the Ruski would probably think he was flirting back...well, Graves honestly didn't care.

"...Fine...make it a wh-"

Graves was stopped before he could finish his own sentence, because the man finished it for him.

"A whiskey? Yeah, I figured."

Graves smirked, a bit impressed by handsome Russian. The man flagged down the bartender, he ordered a vodka and a whiskey. Their finest and most expensive kind. After that? It was history, Graves didn't think he had ever drank that much alcohol in one day, especially not in less than two hours. Him and the man were just chit chatting the entire time.

"Y'know, Ruski, I never got ya name? Enlighten me."

The man chuckled and shook his head as he took a sip of his vodka.

"Vladimir, Vladimir M-"

He paused for a moment, as if to think.

"Vladimir Moore."

Graves nodded and smiled, he reached out his hand. Expecting Vladimir to shake it.

"Phillip Graves, most people just call me Graves though."

Vladimir shook his hand, a smirk plastered on his face. He cocked an eyebrow, after hearing Graves name.

"Like the CEO and Commander of the Shadow Company PMC?"

Graves was shocked that Vladimir even knew what that was, most people didn't even know what a PMC was. Normally, Graves would find the heavily suspicious, but Graves was too drunk and infatuated with the Russian to care. Graves quickly nodded when Vladimir said that, Graves was liking Vladimir more and more every second. He felt like Vlad was perfect, perfect for him, perfect in everything. The way he laughed, the way he talked and the way he held himself. Graves knew he wasn't gay, but he was drunk, so the voice in his head that usually told him to stop was completely gone.

"How about we go back to my place?"

Graves didn't expect Vladimir to ask that question so quickly, but he did not hesitate to accept the invitation from the handsome Russian. He never expected it to have such a big impact on his life.

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