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Chapter Text

Krebs and Burgdorf walked out of their shared room to smoke a couple of cigarettes. It has been a very long day of listening to Shitler’s ranting, enduring Fegelein’s antics and making plans to hold off the soviet fartbangers from taking over Berlin.

The two men looked each other in the eyes, Burgdorf exhaling cigarette smoke through his nose. Krebs turned back, taking a last pull of his cigarette, before stomping on it to put it out.

He went back to their room, Burgdorf following right after him.

Their room was a mess. Empty bottles everywhere, along with a sea of maps stuck on the walls, some on the desk. At least there was a clean, colorful fish tank, but all of the fish were asleep.

“So...” Burgdorf glanced at his best friend, stressed about all of the military strategy planning after the Führer yelled at him for being an incompetent, drunk general. “What should we do?”

“It’s late. We already have a few good ideas; we’ll think of something tomorrow.” Krebs answered, folding his map of Berlin, so he could put it in the drawer, but the blond man grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“I’ll figure it out. You should go get some sleep.” the general took the map from the gray-haired man, unfolding it again, despite it being midnight. He was so serious about the protection of Germany’s capital, that he hasn’t drank any alcohol for the whole day, which was a lot for him.

“Go to sleep, Wilhelm.” Krebs said, sounding as serious as ever. He didn’t like seeing his friend tiring himself out for something that could easily be handled by Fegelein and the Antic Order if truly needed.

“Make me.” The slightly taller man smirked with a sly smile, while Krebs showed no emotion on his face.

"So that’s how you want to play?" Krebs thought.

He shoved Burgdorf against the wall, making a couple of unimportant maps fall down on the floor. He kissed the taller general, biting his lower lip. Krebs’ hand was around the blond’s throat, squeezing very lightly.

“Ah- Fuck-” the gray-haired general heard Burgdorf breathing out a few swears of pleasure, when he started sucking on his neck and unbuttoning his uniform with both of his hands. The blond didn’t stop him at all, he just held onto him, making them slightly closer to each other.

They had done this before. They still weren’t sure whether it actually meant something or not. It feels good anyway, so who cares?

Once Burgdorf’s uniform was unbuttoned and abandoned on the ground, Krebs had finished sucking his neck. He kissed the other man on the lips, before getting on his knees in front of him. Looks like someone’s hard.

He wasted no time to unzip his pants, then tease him by rubbing his clothed cock with his hand, hearing an impatient grunt above him. It made him want to chuckle.

To further frustrate Burgdorf, he licked it, despite it still being covered by his boxers. The blond gasped and moaned, wanting more. “For the love of God, Hans, stop teasing me!”

“That’s what you get for disobeying me.” Krebs replied confidently, looking into the other man’s eyes, his pupils dillitated. Since he saw that his friend was felt absolutely hopeless and horny as hell, he made a request. “If you want me to get you off, beg for it.”

Burgdorf was surprised by that, since he wasn’t used to begging. He’s a Reich army general, for fuck’s sake. But if he really wanted to cum, he’d have to throw his left-overs of dignity left away. “P-Please...” he attempted to ask him, knowing already he’d have to try harder.

“Please what?” Krebs laid a finger on his clothed cock, making it twitch a little bit.

“Please make me cum, Hans!” Burgdorf cried out, feeling like his dick was going to explode. “I really want you!”

Krebs decided not to torture the man any longer. He himself was getting impatient, his dick jutting out from his uniform pants.

Burgdorf visibly shuddered when his dick sprang out from his boxer shorts, in front of his friend’s face. His pelvis area felt even tighter when Krebs took a hold of it, jacking it with one hand. After a while of preparing the blond man, he stuck out his tongue and licked the tip, sending a wave of arousal, which felt like an electroshock for Burgdorf.

The general beneath him loved the noises he was making. He proceeded to slide the dick half-way down his mouth, feeling it touch his throat. He was doing it slowly, breathing calmly, careful not to choke himself with his cock.

“Oh, fuck- Krebsy- your mouth feels so good...-” Burgdorf moaned, letting his hand get tangled in Krebs’ gray hair, but not forcing him to suck deeper.

If he could, he would smile, but all he could do was keep blowing the other man and feel his pre-come running down his throat. He loved it so much.

While Krebs was bobbing his head up and down the pulsing, hard dick, he undid his own pants and snuck a hand around his own member which demanded attention. That felt a bit better.

“I-I- Hans, I feel like I’m gonna cum-” Burgdorf gasped and whimpered, warning the man sucking him off, in case he didn’t want cum in his mouth.

Of course, Krebs wasn’t planning to get it out of his mouth yet. He wanted to swallow it all, so he got the member as deep as he could in his throat. "Cum for me" he thought, unable to speak at this moment.

Very conveniently, Burgdorf let out a relieved moan, letting his juices flow down his friend’s hot throat. Krebs swallowed almost everything, only getting the dick out of his mouth to not choke, some white liquid running down his lower lip.

"Fuck, that’s so hot..." Burgdorf thought when he looked down, his head still fuzzy after orgasm. He noticed Krebs’ dick was out and covered in cum, because he was touching himself.

He suddenly wanted to touch Krebs too. To make him feel good, like he made him feel tonight.

His little fantasies were interrupted when his friend, his hair a mess, stood up in front of him, face to face. “Do you feel better?” he asked.

Burgdorf nodded joyfully. “Yeah. Much better.”

“Good. Now, go to sleep. We’re going to need a lot of energy for tomorrow.” Krebs’ reply was expected and reasonable, though a little bit dissapointing. Burgdorf wouldn't have said no to more sex.

“Alright. Fine.” the blond replied, as Krebs took off his own uniform, throwing it near Burgdorf’s one somewhere in the corner, together with his pants.

They had always shared one bed, because the bunker staff couldn’t be damned to give them two beds. That was not really a problem, however.

Burgdorf laid his head on Krebs’ chest, cuddling up to him, before falling into deep sleep in a matter of seconds.

Chapter Text

One week of useless planning and helping Shitler find Berlin passes by. Krebs got his nerves frazzled, Burgdorf gets drunk, Weidling and Mohnke are annoyed with everyone's shit and all the other usual bunker stuff. Oh, and Jodl got the Super Sayan wig he really wanted from Reichazon. Good for him.

"FOR THE LOVE OF NEMO, HOW CAN THE FAILURE NOT FIND OUR COUNTRY'S CAPITAL AND CULTURAL CENTER ON LITERALLY NONE OF THE MAPS I SHOW HIM?! NOT EVEN THE ONES THAT ARE JUST BERLIN?! WE LITERALLY LIVE IN BERLIN!" Krebs yelled at nobody, almost tearing his gray hair out while pacing around in his and Burgdorf's shared room. Nothing pissed the fishman off more than geographical ignorance. And the concept of eating fish, of course.

Burgdorf sat on the bed, sipping whiskey from the whole bottle, like usual. "Yeah. I though you'd get used to his dumbassery after this many years, but apparently not... Hey, remember that time Fegelein accidentally called Himmler 'dad' when he was assigning us duties?"

Krebs chuckled at the memory. "Yeah, we weren't even generals back then, but I can still remember how funny it was." the memory seemed to calm the map lover.

"Hey, to get your mind off of all that map stuff, you wanna drive to a bar and have some drinks? Listen to Rammstein in the car? I have a couple CD's." the blonde offered, putting the empty bottle he had finished drinking on the ground near all the other bottles.

Krebs smiled, his heart fluttered, but he ignored that little feeling he had for his best friend with benefits. "Yeah, sure! But I'll be driving. You lost your license due to drunk driving and property destruction and all."

"Oh. Yeah. True that."

-

Krebs, a responsible and safe driver, got not only Burgdorf, but Bormann and Weidling with them to KrystallNacht, their favourite fancy bar with a bunch of blue-colored crystal decorations where they can drink strong and cheap beverages, talk, sing karaoke and overall steer clear off of Hitler's bullshit and Fegelein's antics.

Gunsche, who worked as a bartender there outside of his Hitler informing duties, was cleaning the beer glasses, until the four men walked in. The two meter tall man with a white dress shirt, bright blue bowtie and black suspenders asked for their orders.

"3 glasses of scotch and 1 whole bottle of scotch for Burgdorf." Weidling ordered blunty, while everyone made themselves comfortable on the bar stools.

The bartender Otto nodded and placed three glasses, filled them, then placed a whole full bottle on the counter.

Krebs sipped his drink, not really knowing how to start a conversation about anything substancial.

"So, anyone heard the rumors that Skeletor is writing another garbage piece of fiction?" Bormann informed, making Weidling roll his eyes.

"Well, we know how that went last time he wrote a play. I think it was called 'A german fate in diary pages'?" the man replied.

"Yeah, dude should stick to spreading propaganda to civilians that Hitler is a big-brain genius, lol" Burgdorf laughed, Krebs following with a remark, "A genius that can't find the city he lives in on the map!"

Ah, gossiping about your boss behind his back. Truly great.

"Wait, Gunsche, you won't inform Shitler that we talked crap about him, right?" Krebs turned to the bartender, who was preoccupied with a crossword puzzle.

"I will not." he replied, crossing off a word with a pen. "I hear bad things about the Fuhrer everyday from everyone that comes here."

"Alright, thanks!" Krebs said and then turned back to look at his buddies, talking to each other.

"So... Anyone noticed that Fegelein has been pretty inactive recently? It's almost like he actually dissapeared ever since the announced failure of the operation 'Kill That Bastard'" Bormann asked and everyone nodded. It was weird.

"Ever since he threw the strawberry smelling bombs on the Eastern border at the Soviets, random attacks have been flooding Berlin. Then he just dissapeared." Weidling downed his drink. "In fact, prepare to fight now, boys. I hear them right now." he pulled out his gun, then the bar's wall was shot down by artillery fire.

Krebs, Burgdorf, Bormann, Weidling and Gunsche all took cover, while also pulling out their beloved guns to protect themselves.

This was one of the times where Krebs wondered how the hell one of the deadliest weapons in their universe, because of which the Reich spent millions of Reichmarks in repair costs, the Gun of Armaggedon, ended up in his alcoholic best friend's hands. That thing can literally shoot through a 100 meter wide cement wall!

As the russians started flooding into the building, the generals and the bartender shot at the enemies, killing some of them, while Burgdorf was sticking his tongue out, his hands shaking, trying his best to aim, but doing nothing useful, because he's way too drunk for combat. And being way too close to the action, he got shot in the shoulder.

He looked at the wound, not feeling anything due to the enormous amount of alcohol in his system. "Huh?"

Krebs' eyes widened in fear. HE GOT SHOT!
He scooched closer to him during the time bullets from both sides were flying and grabbed the Pistol of Armaggedon from his drunk best friend and loaded it.

With perfect aim, a loud bang of the pistol sounded through and all of the enemies, due to the gun's deadly explosion shot, were wiped out of the living world, along with a huge part of the bar's wall and a random russian tank.

The Soviets that were still alive ran for their lives, knowing damn well not to mess with anyone that has the Gun of Armaggedon.

"Ayy! We won!" Burgdorf felt giddy, as he was losing a lot of blood through his bullet wound.

Krebs picked him up bridal style and carried him to his car, leaving the other 3 men by themselves in the destroyed KrystallNacht. "Where are we going, Krebsy?" the blond asked, after being put into the backseat carefully. "Can you turn on some music? It's boring without music..." he was clearly losing the energy to stay concious.

Krebs turned on some Rammstein music while firing up the car's engine. "We're going back to the bunker. Hold tight."

-

Unable to tell how much time he had spent in the darkness, Wilhelm opened his eyes slowly, the light blinding him momentarily. He could instantly tell he was in a hospital room. He looked down on his right, shoulder, which was now bandaged. He tried to move, but hissed in pain. "No morphine? Come on!" he grunted to himself.

"Yeah, Goring's morphinist fatass took all of it, along with more than half of the bunker's food supplies. Sorry." Krebs apologised, then sat down on Burgdorf's bed carefully. "I thought I was going to lose you."

Burgdorf chuckled, getting flustered. "What? It was just a shoulder injury..."

"Oh, shut up! I panicked when I saw you get hurt, because I care about you, you idiot!" Krebs went off, appearing emotional, somewhat angry. "It's just that- All these things we do together that nobody knows we do-? What if it actually means something more? I- I'm sorry, this is bullshit, I-"

"Hans." Burgdorf interrupted, smiling. "I love you."

"...Really?" The fishman turned into a tomato from blushing. "You don't-? Women...?"

"Nope. Only you. It was always just you, ever since we met."

Krebs just stared at into the other man's blue eyes for a moment, before sitting closer to him, taking his face into his hands and kissing him on the lips passionately and slowly. It wasn't dirty, just emotional. Real. Burgdorf felt the things he was feeling cover up the pain from his gunshot wound.

Once the couple had finished kissing, Krebs hugged him, while playing with the blond's hair.

While Hans was clueless, Wilhelm saw that in the doorway, the secretary Frau Junge was staring at both of them, her cheeks red, eyes wide, mouth covered by hands in surprise. That was how all the Krebsdorf fanfictions she wrote started.

Chapter Text

“Life is garbage and everyone in this bunker sucks.” Burgdorf groaned into his pillow, early in the morning. “Except you, of course, my love.”

Meanwhile, Krebs was pulling up his pants and putting on his uniform, because Hitler called everyone to the planning room using the megaphone. “Burgy, I know cutting down on alcohol is hard at first, but you have to get up. The Fuhrer will be mad if we’re late.”

“Fine...” Burgdorf rolled out of bed onto the ground carelessly.

“WILHELM, NO, THERE’S A BUNCH OF USED CONDOMS ON THE FLOOR-”

Burgdorf somehow managed to count each one, while lying on the floor. “There’s 17.”

“Wilhelm, please,” Krebs pulled his pants and uniform out of the closet. “Get dressed.”

It was hard for Burgdorf because he willingly tried to decrease his alcohol consumption by 30% and it was already taking toll on him after 24 hours. The fact that the blond general tried to make himself better for his now-boyfriend without being asked to warmed Krebs’ heart.

The couple were late to the meeting, pushing through the other, younger generals to find their usual spots.

As if it was a ritual, Jodl, with his new favorite Super Sayan wig, popped the important, million-Reichmark question. “My Fuhrer... What is your plan today?”

Hitler just looked at him with a look of dismay, not saying a word, causing Jodl and all the other generals to be confused. “My Fuhrer, are you gonna plan today or did you wake us up early to troll us?”

“Krebs. And Burgdorf.” Hitler said, his body shaking, obviously containing a shitton of anger.

Burgdorf glanced over at Krebs nervously. ‘Uh oh.’

All of the generals except Jodl, Keitel and the subjects of today’s meeting left the room. Bormann and the crypt-creature of a prime minister stayed too.

Once the door closed, Hitler finally started letting his rage out. “WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK?! I’VE NEVER EVER HAD TO DEAL WITH SHIT LIKE THIS BEFORE!”

Fegelein, listening in on the rant, turned to look at the other people behind him, while Hitler yelled “I BET MY MUSTACHE LITERALLY EVERYONE IN THE BUNKER HEARD YOU TWO BANG NON-STOP LIKE RABBITS!”

He was not wrong and both Krebs and Burgdorf knew that.

“My Fuhrer, we’re super sorry, we didn’t know the walls were that thin-” Burgdorf tried to explain himself with his fast little speech, but Hitler cut him off. “I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOUR SHITTY EXCUSES; YOU ARE OFF YOUR SOLDIER DUTIES AND WILL NOW BE DOING LAUNDRY AND DISHES UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE!”

Krebs looked down on the ground, embarrassed. ‘I thought this would go way worse, but ok’

“Dis-fucking-missed!” Hitler shouted and then sat down, his deadly pencil of doom still in his hand, somehow. Together with Burgy's pistol, that thing was one of the deadliest tools known to their universe.

Krebs and Burgdorf thought they would get killed by an explosion, but they were lucky Shitler didn’t hate the gays this much.

Everyone separated their ways back into their rooms to get more sleep or to get breakfast, acting like it was a usual morning in the bunker.

“Huh. I guess we’re maids now, not soldiers.” Krebs chuckled to Burgdorf, holding his hand as they were walking back to their room. Boy, was he getting sexual ideas.

“Maids, huh? I guess I could put on the black and white maid outfit that I have in my closet for you...” Wilhelm flirted with Hans, making him blush. They sure haven’t learned from their mistake much.

“Oh, I almost forgot, you have that bunker AA meeting Hitler made some people attend.” Krebs reminded his boyfriend.

“Yep. It should start soon. Will you be there with me?”

“Of course, I will be. I love you.” Hans kissed him on the cheek. “Just let me go back to our room to feed my fish first.”

10 minutes later...

“Welcome, gentlemen! I will now explain why you shouldn’t get drunk all the fucking time!” Goebbels greeted a group of people, among them was Burgdorf, Krebs, Weidling, Fritsche, whom Burgdorf absolutely hated, Bormann and others.

“Skeletor is the one running the AA meetings...?” Burgdorf whispered to his boyfriend. Krebs shrugged, appearing skeptical about the potential effectiveness of this meeting.

“First of all, my drunk friends, before you pick up that bottle, think about this... What would your kids think of you?”

The fishman and the boozer looked at each other then rolled their eyes.

“Yep, we’re leaving.” Wilhelm said, then pulled out a flask of whiskey and drank straight from it, then gave Krebs some.

Fritsche walked out of that lame-ass AA meeting and passed by the couple. “Sup, fags.” The rude motherfucker then went to the phone room. “Hello, I’d like to dial the big titty goth girl hotline.”

The fishman sighed, standing in front of his lover. “It’s alright, just ignore him. He’s always been a piece of shit.”

Burgdorf looked angry as shit, his face red and head filled with murderous thoughts. “He’s dead.” he pulled out his gun of Armageddon and followed after the homophobe. Weidling noticed what he was about to do and was there to save Fritsche’s pathetic ass for the hundredth time ever.

Later that day...

Hitler sat in his office, looking as angry as ever. His informing giant, black faced, stepped in. There were lots of moaning and banging in the background, making the bunker atmosphere extremely uncomfortable.

Gunsche said nothing at all, so the Fuhrer started, withholding his rage. “Do you have an explanation on why I’m hearing gay sex noises again, when those bastards should be on laundry duty?”

The tall informer sighed. “Burgdorf got stuck in the dryer, my Fuhrer.”

Hitler looked even more angry. ‘Wow. Not even laundry duty can save me from this.’

“I DON’T KNOW WHY BUT I’M GONNA BLAME FEGELEIN!”

He banged his table three times. “FEGELEIN! FEGELEIN!!!”

Meanwhile in Traudl’s room, the Antic Master had a blonde wig on and a bunch of make-up on his face to go undercover as ‘Roberta Fegelova’ into the Real-Life Nazi Germany universe to free some Jewish people from camps like it was a fun vacation activity.

“Bruh, I didn’t even do anything this time, why is he shouting my name?” Fegelein questioned, having his nails painted bright red by the secretary.

“Quit moving, Roberta, you don’t want messed up nails, do you?”