dappered | (no subject)

(no subject)

[ So.

It'd been two days since Wash left Church in that empty city. Two days of blissful quiet (except it was never completely silent, not in his head, not with the echoes that Epsilon had left and the whispers that Wash still heard sometimes when he was on the verge of sleep) and he put them to use, moving fast and efficiently and reminding himself darkly the entire time how much Church hinders him, how he was operating with much less efficiency when he had to babysit, etc.

How could he possibly expect to go after the Director with the ultimate AI as his partner if his partner was a bitching juvenile manipulative little bastard. Who thought that abusing his trust was okay. Who thought that doing things like--

( kissing him, he remembers, the pressure of his mouth, his taste, the softness of his throat under Wash's fingertips )

--like that was acceptable. No big deal. Just proving a point, bitch.

It's almost enough to make him not want to go back, when he reached the crest of a cliff and suddenly recognizes the scenery. A shallow lake, a valley surrounded by mountains, one Blue base, one Red base, and one crashed black ship.

Valhalla. Which, now that he'd been reminded about it, did have some unverified accounts of dead zones and abandoned outposts attached to the file he'd glanced through. Valhalla was situated where it was because of this and now apparently occupied by the remnants of the Blood Gulch teams, and while it was a huge relief to have concrete proof of where he was (still not how it happened, still nothing to explain his jailbreak and Church's miraculous physical form, and the only theory he has getting progressively uglier), it meant he had some decisions to make now. The Meta and the recording devices inside Freelancer Command had seen Church's A.I. form, however briefly. Church needed to be kept hidden, needed to be kept safe, and Wash had no intention of waltzing back into a jail cell. It's not ideal, but they can hide here. Or around here, in the caverns that run underneath the cliffs. And know, at least, that their closest neighbors aren't going to jump at the chance to turn them in to Command.

Church doesn't see it quite so rationally. Church points out, in the tone of voice reserved for deepest atrocity, that what is being suggested is really the same thing as going to a place that is close to Caboose.

Wash privately winces along with him at the thought, but remains adamant. Blah blah hiding place, blah blah fugitives, blah blah finding Epsilon, blah blah just get your fucking gear and stop arguing.

Wishful thinking. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There's nothing wrong with the floor. You're such a woman.

[ Lecture Mode: on ]

Domestic comforts are statistically proven to increase performance in battle and improve troop morale. It's why we're issued cots and blankets in the first place.

...

...don't give me that look.

Haven't you ever been camping before? My dad used to --

Well, anyway. I'm not walking another ten minutes to get to a bed.

[ Ouch.

Wash doesn't wince only by virtue of the fact that he's holding himself so still, which is just as much of an obvious giveaway, and for a moment he can't look at Church.

It had been important. He keeps telling himself that. Church had to know what he was in order to protect himself, to have some chance against the Meta or the Project. Wash had made the decision for him and he knows how unfair it seems (it is) but there hadn't been another choice.

Right?

He's quiet for a moment, and then finally asks Church to stay there a sec as he consults the map on his HUD and disappears down a hallway.

Storage closet, check. Extra blankets, check. Pillow, singular, check. These and some other supplies are collected and dumped on the table in the main room for Church to sort through as he pleases, while Wash predictably clears a small space and starts laying out his weaponry. ]

[ And then: ]

...I haven't, actually.

You should try it sometime.

-- Yeah. Well. Night, then.

[ Yeah says the guy who thinks sleeping on the floor like a dog is just fine. ]

I think, at this point, I'd end up associating sleeping outside with field missions. Which would defeat the purpose.

[ His gaze flicks to Church as he moves. Not that he's entirely surprised that Church is just gonna go straight to sleep and not bring up ten minutes ago's weirdness at all. Ejecting uncomfortable situations from his reality was, after all, part of what made Church who he was.

Wash will just stand here and clean his guns. Methodically. And tell himself not to think about it either. ]

Hey.

Edited 2009-10-09 09:30 (UTC)

[ He doesn't look up from what he's doing. ]

Yes?

Dude, come on. Really? Let me touch you.

[ Pause. Paussssseeeee. ]

You don't have to do that. You don't owe me anything.

You're such a sensitive bitch about shit.

Come on. Seriously.

[ Ohhh no no no, this is not okay. This not okay letting Church turn him, leaving guns half-dismantled

(always finish what you start, soldier)

on the table behind him, this is not okay to have Church stand so close with that look on his face, his demeanor of intention, this is not okay to complicate their relationship further and

(he's not Epsilon)

(you don't know that)

and yet he's still standing there. Not stopping Church. ]

...

-- I started this, anyway.

Don't make this into a big deal when it's not.

[ Easy for Church to say.

He'd accused him of starting this to protect himself, to throw something unexpected and complicating like intimacy at Wash just to manipulate or unsettle him or to outright rebel against being thought of as a bodiless AI, something. Not because of attachment or a sense of debt. Certainly not for actual attraction, given how many reasons Church had to resent him.

Maybe it had been stupid to retaliate in kind. Maybe it had been wrong to respond on the same level, to essentially forgive him for it, and lead Church to think of this as a way to get under his skin.

(Isn't that exactly what it is)

His armor is in pieces on the floor and the table. Someone else's hands are on his skin, someone else is standing too close, and Wash hears himself exhale softly as he steps into Church, nearly flush against him, mouth at his ear and looking out past him.

He stands there a moment. Warring with himself or hesitating or just trying to think of the words. ]

I know you started it.

[ He presses a hand flat against Church's sternum, not pushing him back but not letting him move any nearer. ]

And I'm ending it.

Good night, Church.

Suit yourself.

[ ...............................

And Church says that, but he's still standing right there. And while Wash could take one, maybe two steps back, he's essentially boxed in by the table. ]

...

[ He can feel Church's heartbeat under his fingers again, and he should probably be putting his hand down and taking that step away. ]

[ Probably. Anytime now. ]

Oh. I get it.

Wow, dude. You have trust issues.

Edited 2009-10-11 03:33 (UTC)

I do no--

[ Yeah he hears the instant defensiveness in his own voice, and just shuts his mouth instead and takes that step back, removing the temptation of contact. It stings more, somehow, to be called out on something by Church of all people, and that exasperation is clear in his retort. ]

Do you even know what you're asking me for? You want me to sleep with you?

Jesus Christ, man. You're the one who sucked me off, and you're giving me shit for wanting to return the favor by jerking you off? It's not like I'm telling you I want to cut your balls off.

You kissed me first.

[ ....okay that sounds kinda pathetic and childish after he's already said it out loud. ]

-- Yeah. Okay.

[ lfmdslkfj ]

And that sound right there must be Wash's sanity jumping out the goddamn window, lost in the clatter of him being shoved against the table (there go all the pieces of his guns, such a mess, he'll have to clean that up later church always turns everything he touches into chaos--) and then he's

grabbing Church, pulling him closer, kissing him back just as fiercely. ]

Edited 2009-10-11 04:22 (UTC)

Come on. Let me touch you.

Please?