Author's Note: This was a prompt given to me on Tumblr through my blog fuckyeahclaudexalois when I asked for prompts when we gained our hundredth follower. The prompt was basically to write a fic based off the WWII Nazi!Claude and Alois (Which I have kindly set as the image for this fic). I personally adore this version of Claude and Alois. Also, I have zero knowledge of the German language so any German used in here was provided by Google translate. If it is wrong and you have an understanding of the language, please let me know! Excuse any spelling/grammatical errors. I have not had anyone proofread this and I do not trust my late night writing abilities. Oh and since this will probably be asked, Claude is German and Alois is still English (I pretty much created this back story in my head XD) For the sake of this fic, they are both human.

Reglen des Krieges

Rule number one; there are precisely three seconds from warning until explosion.

"Heruntersteigen!" The warning was shouted over and over again by both military personnel and the citizens of the small city they were in. When chaos like this unfolded it could only mean one thing; an allied attack coming straight for them. There was no time to think, no time to see what everyone else was doing. There was only time to run.

One... By the the time he registered what was going on, it was almost too late. Already disoriented from the commotion, the only thing Alois could do to save himself was go where ever his feet took him. People were running past him. Some were civilians, trying to save their pathetic lives when they were probably better off dead. Others were his comrades. They skittered past him, not even bothering to point him to safety or help him in any way.

Two... Frantically searching eyes locked onto an empty alley up ahead. There. That would be the safest place. He seemed to be running without actually thinking about where he was going. He was letting his feet do all of the work. That eerie silence that always settled in before detention spread across doomed area like a thick fog. The only sounds Alois could hear were the frantic beating of his heart and his quick breaths. It might be the last time he ever got to hear them.

Three... His hand quickly slammed against the rough brick building as his boot caught on a loose cobblestone. The sting from the scraping of flesh against stone did not even register. Alois was too focused on getting himself to the old crates and sandbags piled in a corner. The boy stumbled as he tried to regain his footing, falling over the barrier. Instinctively Alois' arms shot out in front of him to keep his face from having an unplanned meeting with the soot-covered ground. He barely had time to scoot into the back corner – the sound of the artillery shell finally hitting was enough to stop any thought running through Alois' head and hinder any action he might be performing.

Rule number two; the only thing that can be done once shelter is found is to pray that death will not claim another unnecessary victim .

It could have been seconds. It could have been minutes. Hell, it could have been hours until the bombardment ceased to exist. There was nothing but silence around him, aside from the fact that the only sound left was the ringing in his own ears. Alois removed his hands from the back of his neck and let them fall to the ground so they were resting on either side of his face. He let out a sigh of relief, his entire being visibly relaxing against the cobblestone. He had been spared this time.

Alois' eyes snapped open as his thoughts turned from himself to the other men who had been with him. More specifically one man who was with him when the warning was issued. The colonel was someone who the other soldiers feared and respected. Alois, on the other hand, was fascinated and infatuated with the dark haired man. It was safe to say that when Colonel Faustus found him, he had also stolen the boy's heart. They had been through so much together in the year they had known each other. There were too many close calls and near death experiences they had shared, always managing to escape. It would take a hell of a lot more than gunfire to separate them. Why should now be any different?

When he was sure that he could feel all of his limbs, Alois pushed himself off the ground with a groan. His hands moved up to his uniform jacket, brushing off the dust that had settled on the dark material. He took a moment to straighten up what he could. "The hell?" he whispered through dry lips when he lifted his hand to his head and felt a strange object. The boy raked his fingers through his blonde locks, causing a rather large piece of burlap to flutter to the ground. It must have been from one of the now destroyed sandbags around him. Why he even bothered to make himself presentable in a time like this could only be blamed on human vanity. After all, Alois had proven to be somewhat of a narcissist.

Once he had straightened himself out as much as possible, Alois hoisted himself up off the ground. A hand was quickly placed on the side of a building when his knees buckled. His legs were shaky from being held in the same position for so long. If there was one thing that terrified him almost as much as being in complete darkness, it was situations like these when he was completely alone in a designated war zone. The realization of being by himself took a few minutes to actually hit. When it did, his bright eyes grew to twice their size and his feet finally decided to cooperate. Rather than tentatively walking out of the alleyway, Alois sprinted down the old street. New debris and small obstacles did not stop him. He was an agile boy. Dodging and leaping over things were not a problem for him, especially when he was more concerned with finding the only person who mattered to him. For all Alois cared the rest of then men in his regiment could die. There was only one who he truly cared for.

Rule number three; find any man who was lucky enough to survive the attack and let him know that he is not alone.

Alois slowed his pace down when he the epicentre of the impact. At least it had not been a massive explosion. The building were falling apart and in ruins, but they were not completely decimated. If only the same could be said for the smaller objects that had been laying around. Right where the bomb had hit looked like a meteor had crashed into the road. Chunks of the old cobblestone were strewn across what remained of the street. His gaze left the crater and travelled to parts of cars and trucks that had been burned to the point where they looked like some strange form of art. Alois let out a bitter laugh the longer he observed the chaotic scene in front of him. Death, suffering, and despair seemed to follow him where ever he went. Try as he might, there was no escaping it.

Everything around him was a washed out brown colour with the ever so lovely black streaks that signified the detonation of an explosive. Alois did not move until he caught a glimpse of red in the rubble. Most likely blood. There were too many people around for them all to get away. The suspicions he had were easily confirmed when he got closer to the vibrant splash of colour. His nose wrinkled in disgust as he discovered one of his comrades laying on the ground, twisted like a rag doll. Finding out who it was seemed to be out of the question. Half his uniform had been burned off, exposing nothing but charred flesh. That would not have been a problem except for the fact his face was so damaged that it could have been anyone. Not letting himself linger around the corpse any further, Alois headed towards a now open-faced building. It looked like a place someone would go in a vain attempt to escape the explosion.

The only things that greeted him upon entering the destroyed structure was the sound of his boots lightly tapping against the charred wood and several fallen troops who, just like the man outside, were barely recognizable. The only thing Alois was able to determine about the unlucky soldiers was that they were not Claude. They were either too short, too fat, too broad, the list could go on and on. There were only a couple men under Colonel Faustus who were as tall as he was and had the same physique. Considering what had just happened, it was hard to determine ranks of any of the men. Heat was not kind to uniforms. He would only be able to identify his colonel once he saw his face.

It was at that moment Alois saw another body out of the corner of his eye. From where he was it was difficult to tell whether or not the soul who occupied it was dead or alive. It was Claude. It had to be. He was as tall and fit looking as the colonel. He even had the same dark hair. Without thinking, Alois sprinted over to him. His heart was pounding in his chest as he neared the body. The boy fell to his knees, ignoring the jolt of pain that shot up his legs on impact. His eyes raked over the burnt uniform as the smell of burnt flesh filled his nostril. He so desperately wanted to get away from the wretched odour, but he could not bring himself too. The man's arm was barely attached to his body. The blood, only half cauterized, was slowly dripping onto the floor. The side of his face looked like he had met the skilled hands of a butcher.

Alois averted his eyes back to the charred clothing when he saw that the man's jaw was hanging off the less damaged side of his face. Shaky hands came to rest on the name tag on the breast of his uniform. Some of the letters were still legible. He struggled to make out the first few characters, but finally managed. L-A-U F-A-U-S. That was all he needed to make a decision. Alois squeezed his eyes shut when a choked sob escaped his throat. "Claude?" he asked, as if the corpse could answer him. He laid his head against Claude's chest, allowing the tears to fall. No one was around to hear him anyway. At least he could mourn the loss of his lover in peace.

When the tears finally subsided, Alois was spent. His throat hurt from crying. His eyes stung. His chest and abdomen even hurt from the sobs that wracked his body. All he could do now was sniffle. Sadness quickly turned into anger. "Fuck you." he spat, quickly sitting up and pounding a fist on Claude's unmoving chest. "Why did you have to do this you bastard? You could have run a hell of a lot faster. I fucking hate you!" Before the anger could give way to more dry sobs, a new sound caught Alois' attention. He was not alone anymore.

"Alois."

The boy spun around as he heard his name being called. Who was calling him? Where were they?

"What the fuck do you want?" he hissed, spinning around. He half-expected to see one of his officers in the distance. Who cared if they saw him like this anymore. There was no point in hiding his despair.

"Zat's Oberleutnant von Faust." came the calm reply.

"Claude?" Alois asked, a smile growing on his face. He quickly saw the colonel sitting on the ground, propped up against an old bookcase. He was holding his hand to his side, obviously injured. Alois did not care about that right now. His Claude was alive.

Rule number four; give any necessary attention that is needed to the wounded until more help arrives.

The boy leapt up from his spot next to the deceased lieutenant and rushed over to Claude, almost tripping over his own feet. Carefully avoiding the man's injured side, Alois knelt down and threw his arms around him. He buried his face into the crook of Claude's neck and shut his eyes. "I thought I lost you." he whispered as tears silently ran down his cheeks. He had never felt more relieved in his entire life.

"Vell, you vere so busy vith von Faust zat I didn't vant to interrupt." Claude said as Alois pulled away.

"You bastard." the boy said, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. "You were alive the whole time and you just sat there watching me as I fucking lost it over him. I bet you thought that was funny, me thinking that Lieutenant von Faust was you."

"Ve all have to have a little humour during var." Claude responded.

"Just shut the fuck up." Alois demanded. Before Claude could say anything else, the boy silenced him with a feverish kiss. His effeminate hands came to rest on Claude's broad shoulders while he skilfully manoeuvred onto the colonel's lap.

Claude's breath hitched as Alois' leg came into contact with the wound on his side, but it did not cause him to pull away. He lifted his hands and gently placed them on Alois' waist. Golden eyes closed when the sharp pain in his side subsided. Claude tilted his head so he could pry the boy's mouth open. Alois readily complied, allowing his tongue access. For a split second Claude wondered why they were doing this here and now. Anyone could walk in at any moment. Their affair was something the colonel did not want getting out. Nevertheless, Claude made no attempt to break their kiss.

"For someone who's injured, you sure seem to forget about your pain." Alois commented when he broke away for some air.

"Perhaps I like ze pain."

"Do you?" Alois flashed him a cheeky grin as he moved his hand down to rest on the colonel's injured side. A hiss escaped Claude's mouth when the contact was made. His own grip tightened on the blonde's waist while he dug his fingers into the soft flesh. That was the only sign Alois needed to continue. His teeth grazed across Claude's lower lip before he began placing soft kisses down his jawline. While Alois busied himself with that, Claude's leather-clad hands roamed downward until his fingers rested on the waistband of Alois' trousers.

In no time Claude had somehow managed to get the boy's boots off, along with his trousers, and toss them to the side. Alois barely noticed, for he was too occupied with abusing Claude's neck. The once pale flesh was not blotched with red patches. The boy's hands trailed down Claude's chest, unbuttoning his uniform as he went on. Though he saw Claude in the same thing every single day, he could not help but develop a certain fetish for seeing his man in a uniform. Come to think of it, he could not imagine Claude in anything else. Ever since he had known him, Claude was either wearing a uniform or nothing at all. Seeing his colonel in civilian clothing was something Alois could go without.

Alois let out a yelp of surprise when Claude's hand came to rest on his back in order to yank him closer. A growling sound escaped from Claude as their bodies pressed together. Alois' erection was pushing against his stomach. That was just something he could not ignore. He thrust his own hips, pushing himself against Alois' ass. A small smirk danced on his thin lips when his actions elicited a moan from the boy. When it came to sex, Alois was not quiet. There had been many times when Claude had to find a way to silence the blonde to keep anyone from hearing them. He did not bother now. Why should he? They were the only two living creatures in the vicinity.

Claude grazed his teeth along the unblemished neck in front of him. Being the sadomasochist that he was, the colonel thoroughly enjoyed marring Alois' skin. It was as if the boy's body was a blank canvas and he the painter, expected to create a story with nothing more than additions of colour and the contorting of flesh. He could be gentle, but when his lover allowed him to be creative, Claude took it to the extreme. His teeth sunk into Alois' creamy skin, causing the boy to tilt his head to the side and close his eyes.

Those harsh nips soon turned into heated kisses that were intended to soothe the sting from the assault on Alois' delicate neck. There were so many times that both Alois and Claude thought that they boy would break from the vigorousness of their activities. Just when Alois thought it would be too much, Claude knew how to settle down while still pleasuring the boy. Alois tilted his head back, opening his eyes to glance at Claude while the raven-haired man worked his mouth over the new marks on his neck.

"Mmm, Claude..." Alois moaned, his fingers digging into the man's shoulders. How Claude could be so skilled with his tongue was a mystery that Alois often though about but did not wish to know. All he cared was that the skill was used on him.

Rule number five; when additional aid arrives, they waste no time in finding the wounded.

Just as Claude's hand begin to travel down Alois' back, the boy heard what sounded like speech. "Claude stop." he hissed, glaring at his colonel until he felt his hand come to a rest on his ass. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear vat?" Claude asked, leaning forward to place another kiss on Alois' neck.

"Oberfuhrer Faustus?" came a voice in the distance.

"Fuck." Alois hissed. "That." Upon hearing the other men closing in, Alois immediately removed himself from Claude and grabbed his trousers, quickly trying to get them back on before they were discovered. Why did they have to come now? It was the worst possible time for anyone to come looking for survivors. Not to mention the fact that he and Claude both had their own issues to keep hidden from their comrades.

"Wir sind hier druben." Claude said when he saw Alois was fumbling with his belt. The man let out a sigh, causing the younger of the two to glance at him. "I promise zat ve vill continue zis later."

"Yeah, yeah whatever." the boy responded, clearly disappointed. "I don't think you'll get much time later with all of, well, this to deal with." he added, waving his hand to indicate the destruction around them.

"Da bist du ja!" one of the privates called out as he jogged towards Claude and Alois.

"I vill make ze time for you, your highness."

Upon hearing Claude's reply, Alois could see the sincerity in his golden eyes. He would make time later on. He let the use of Claude's strange pet name for him slide. Claude had referred to him as 'your highness' for quite some time now. Alois might not understand, but he knew that Claude would give him a treatment fit for royalty once darkness took over.