anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue Voicetesting Thread

It's been awhile since he hasn't had Sam around- and even then it wasn't for long. Just long enough to miss him fiercely, just long enough to devolve into solitary habits of lounging on a sofa and flicking through some kind of holographic puzzle meant to stand in for encrypted locks. When word comes that Sam's made it back his feet carry him to the locker room and, inevitably, to the bench where he sits.

No questions, no concerns, just the drape of Taylor against Sam's back as he sets the puzzle away. "Missed you."

Somewhere in the back of his mind Delta is deeply and viscerally pleased- though he doesn't say why.

Locus tips his head back as that familiar weight settles against him, his lips curving quietly as one hand lifts to graze against Taylor's cheek. "And I you."

There's no guilt, no sense of shame or remorse, just cool satisfaction. And he turns his head to catch against Taylor's jaw in a brief kiss before reaching for the rag he'd been scrubbing down his armor with.

Blood splatter. Just a bit.

"I take it I didn't miss anything terribly exciting."

Taylor loses a moment to just leaning into that contact, eyes going half lidded and lazy. Sam's here, all's well, Delta's in a good mood, Felix seems to be chill. What more could he possibly want? "Nah. Some scrambling over the funds we took, crazy accounting trying and failing to find out what happened. Some people got fired."

No one got killed. His favorite kind of crime.

Taylor noses in against Sam's cheek, squinting down at the blood. "You're not hurt, right?"

"No."

Not even close to it. The armor had been to protect his identity more than anything else, though he doubts Brandon will talk. Just a little scrubbing and it's good as new, not a speck of evidence left.

After that, he lays down the rag and moves to his feet, turning towards Taylor with a faint arch of his brow. Something's been lingering with him since he left that garage.

"Would you...say you're happy?"

"Mm?" He steps back as Sam rises to his feet- hanging onto his shoulders then would become, well, literal and he's not in the mood to try an impromptu piggyback ride. That question, now...that's a little odd.

"What makes you ask?" Giving himself a moment to think it over.

There's The Mission which is- it's a goal, something with a definite end, something to work for. To challenge him.

There's Sam. Everything he is, everything he could be, everything he's become.

"I've been thinking, lately. About us."

Which is a mild way of putting it. Their little break has given him time to consider, and even during their argument it had become apparent just how important Taylor's happiness was to him. His well-being. He cared for him, that much was clear.

But the things Brandon had said, the shadows he'd cast across some of Taylor's behavior, his tendency to expect the worst and second guess himself...well. Here it was. The chance to know for certain.

That knot in his brow tightens. "This isn't something I'm very familiar with. I know what I see, but I...I'm curious."

Oh shit.

Just as nothing ever good comes from 'we should talk', it's rare when 'I've been thinking about us' ends well. Taylor goes quiet and still, the habitual bounce and fidget of his poster slowing into utter absence as he goes from quietly adoring (as is common now) to quietly wary.

What did Felix say? What happened during this trip?

Shit he's not happen, what'd he do wrong?

Ok, he fucked something up, don't panic, he just needs to figure out what Sam wants and wants to hear, that's all, and he can adjust to meet those expectations. All these emotions run across his face in rapid succession, panic, fear, anxiety, a flicker of resignation before he clears his throat, scratching at the back of his neck. "I- mostly? I mean I could do without Felix living in your head but other than that?"

"Yes. Other than that."

There's nothing else for him to grasp for, to adjust to. Locus is simply watching him with that faintly concerned, faintly curious look, certain that he'll be able to note any attempt to deflect or defuse. When Taylor starts to look wary, those doubts swirl a little tighter in his stomach.

It's going on a limb- he knows better than to get comfortable. To hope. Knows it can't end well for him after so goddamn long but with Sam? He wants to put himself out there. He wants this to work. And as long as they keep talking first, as long as he quits trying to assume shit-

Taylor clears his throat. Shrugs. "I mean- I am. You're happy, right? With me?"

Please be happy with him.

It only takes a few seconds to draw close to him again, that knot loosening for a moment. No qualifiers, no conditions to his answer. Only an answer, as certain as he's ever been.

"Yes."

And happier still to know that he's given him some of that in turn. He wants to be good for him, to be better than Brandon. Better than being alone. That seems a short order, but considering the baggage that comes along with him...

The tension winding in Taylor's shoulders drops away instantly with that one word. Sam's here, Sam's happy with him. It takes next to nothing for him to close the gap and rest his forehead against Sam's shoulder, arms looping easily around his waist. This is good. They're doing good, they're doing fine.

He doesn't need to worry.

"I'm happy with you. I know I wind myself up sometimes but- we talk about it, right? We figure shit out."

There's a noise of agreement before he's lifting his arms, pulling Taylor in close against him. The anger's been purged for the time being, and all that matters is that he is happy. That he's being taken care of, that he's doing right by him in a way no one else has.

They're partners, after all. They survive by looking out for one another. But it's become much, much more than that.

"Considering what you've experienced in the past, that's not a surprise. But I won't let that happen again. You have my word."

He'd sooner hang himself from those hooks.

Edited 2016-11-09 07:11 (UTC)

What little tension remains drops out of him when he's pulled close in turn. HE cares and is cared for, holds and is held. It's all equal across the board, how they feel. How they treat each other. It works.

They're partners and-

That word he doesn't look at too hard warms him right through, nosing into Sam's shoulder. "I know you won't treat me like that. I know you won't hurt me in ways I don't ask for."

And that's worth so goddamn much. "I trust you, Sam."

Sam. Locus. Cerberus. That line's a little blurrier than it was before, but he doesn't argue the fact. Instead he holds him close, his grip protective, claiming. It says everything they can't and won't, for fear of shattering something this good, this rare to them.

"And I you."

Meanwhile, Felix is rolling his eyes at the sight, puttering around nearby and sneering quietly to himself. Ugh. Gag him already. But it didn't matter. He had a foothold, he knew where he needed to hit next to get what he wanted.

All he had to do was wait.

"I-" he starts, pauses, swallows and takes a moment to reassess before going or it. "I got a surprise for you."

It is the smallest goddamn thing possible really. Not much of anything, but it's something. Two days wasn't really long enough to do the thing and have it healed so there's bandages on his ribs but it's. Something.

Something solid, a mark that not even time will take away.

"A surprise?"

He draws back, just enough for his expression to betray that confused curiosity once more. It doesn't occur to him immediately what it might be. After all, he arrived here to see him empty-handed.

"Mhmm. Gimme a second-" He has to step away to peel off his shirt- and then the bandages peel away to reveal in neat, dark green lines and stars the shape of Lupus, the constellation. Along his ribs, curving under his pectoral- he'd do it on his heart but, scar tissue. It's a bitch.

He'd done it.

They'd spoken of it, but he'd done it. There on his skin, the familiar stars that outlined that constellation, not the callsign for his armor but instead that endearment Taylor loved using so much.

There's an awed look on his face as slowly, carefully, he reaches to touch the healing skin at its edges.

"I thought-" He turns enough for Sam to see the rest, head canted. "It was kind of an impulse. You were out and I wanted to surprise you so. Surprise?"

Deep green shot through with grey and maybe it's the same damn thing as getting your boyfriend's name tattooed on your skin that everyone tells you not to do but- this feels solid. This feels right. Even if he has to pull the trigger, even if they fall away from each other-

He wants this. Something he wanted burned into his skin there till he dies.

His mark on him, forever. Awe gives way to something pleased, something proud, and his gaze lifts. "Impulse? That doesn't sound like you at all."

Tattoos told stories. They were reminders of things that had made an impact on them through the course of their lives. Felix had used them to cover scars, or remind him of things he'd survived. But this, this was more than a badge of honor.

"I still intend to have my own." The fox, to match. Fittingly enough.

"Kissed you on an impulse, didn't I?" He crackles a soft laugh, leaning in to press his lips to Sam's. The lightest, most teasing thing possible. It doesn't need to lead anywhere- it just needs to be. They just need to be.

Felix can bitch bout sappiness all the live long day, he doesn't care.

"I can give you the number of the place that did mine. Great artist, good rates, very discreet."

"I'll have to look into it."

Meanwhile he can't keep that faint smile from curving the corners of his mouth. His. Taylor is his now, branded in a permanent fashion, and he wouldn't choose to do that unless he wanted to. Unless he was in fact truly happy.

And if things went badly, if...well. If. There would at least be that reminder. Someone in the universe who cared to remember him in a good light. As the person he'd been.

The thought gives him pause, even as he returns the sweet pull of that kiss. It's brief, but worthwhile. "I truly did miss you."

"Where'd you go, by the way?" He takes it as a given that the op was successful but- he has no idea what the op was. Just that there was a thing that Sam went off to do that, apparently, involved blood. Some kind of danger, probably. Maybe a recon op? Maybe something personal.

Though.

The list of things that would be bloody and personal is pretty damn short. "It was quiet here without you."

Not that he's loud but- his presence kinda left the whole place cold. Weird to have such a visceral reminder- no one to lean on, to talk to, to think about. He'd fallen asleep in one of Sam's shirts both nights.

"...to see someone."

And maybe it just didn't occur to him that it was something Taylor would object to, just something he hadn't gotten around to helping him with. He'd had his mind on other things, and Felix had found the information first. What was the harm?

Other than to obvious parties involved.

"I was able to track down Brandon."

"Like a contact?" He blinks, quirking a brow when Delta gives a smug little pulse that shifts quickly to something close to trepidation. The hell, D? It doesn't make much sense up till that name crops up and-

Blood on the armor, D reviewing some file and being viscerally pleased-

Taylor's eyes go wide and his skin pales as he takes a half step back, running a more critical gaze over Sam's armor. "Oh my god you killed him."

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