[ Maintaining the facade of calm is relatively easy. Shifting focus, for one thing. He does take the offered bottle, however, taking a swift swig before adjusting his gaze to somewhere in the far corner of the shuttle. ]
[ Standing does prompt a wince- fuck, he's gonna be sore later. Hell he's sore now, but he does what he can to ignore it. Take those few steps to the cooler, grab the water, leaning against the wall to drink instead of sitting on the bunk.
[ The spare clothes are nearby, he knows. Slowly, he starts to push himself up to go investigate their whereabouts. Better than sitting and letting those thoughts bounce around his head uninterrupted.
That one string of thoughts in particular that come in a very particular voice. Something he doesn't need right now. ]
He figured, though. It'd been awkward last time too- and even knowing what it is, what that space is like, what aftercare should and could be? Locus is...not entirely comfortable with examining that fuzzy space afterward. What's said, what's done.
Taylor swallows down another gulp of water and tries to drown his disappointment. He knew what he was getting into with this. Locus doesn't people well. He's still trying to sort himself out, yadda, yadda, yadda. It's not fair to have expectations.
Doesn't make him want to have them any less.
Water, clothes, applying medi gel to his own throat and shoulder once he's got his pants on, wincing at the bruise. ]
[ That disappointment hangs in the air. Locus is aware of it, even if no readily apparent solution makes itself known. He just dresses, swift as he can, but by the time he turns back it look as though York is on the same page and tending to himself.
To the bruise he'd left.
Locus hesitates, then crosses the shuttle, reaching to brush his fingers against the mark where it stands apparent. ]
[ Physical intimacy is not emotional intimacy. You're partners- that's all it needs to be. You're friends. Be glad to have that. Compatible sexual preferences does not a healthy relationship make.
Maybe one day he'll actually listen to himself. For now he focuses on the middle distance, listening to D go through the data and physics of the latest module. Blinks but doesn't start at the brush of Locus' hand, eyes refocusing and flicking up to him. ]
It's a hell of a hickey.
[ When in doubt, humor. A hooked smirk, an easy smile. An easier out. ]
[ Taylor is a bad liar. He knows that about him. But he smiles sometimes when he doesn't mean it, uses humor to hide behind. It's a pattern even he can notice.
But he lets him. He nods and traces the edge of it before pulling away, something sinking like a stone in his stomach. ]
...I'm going to see how much longer before we arrive.
[ Never mind that he could ask, here. But instinct when feeling weak, feeling exposed, is still to retreat. Old habits die hard. ]
It's there- an unkind thought for a complicated situation but he's not gonna say boo. He's smarter than that- sometimes. Not always. ]
And I don't regret it.
[ Just as honest, slightly less bitter. His brows lift, almost daring Locus to make something of it. He said what he meant and meant what he said, he's not the one with a problem here. ]
[ Maybe it's fine. Maybe paranoia is getting the better of him again. Or maybe something is wrong and what could he expect, really? Having no idea what he was doing, thinking because he read a few articles on the internet he'd be able to understand how not mishandle this?
His gaze flits away again, and he moves swiftly as he can towards the cockpit. Once there, however, he just slips into the seat, eyes trailing along the stars they're moving past.
Taylor may not regret it yet, but there's no doubt in his mind that he will. This can't end well. They're both courting disaster, at this point. Swallowing thickly, he lets his hand drift up to rest over his eyes.
Just push it down. Harder. Harder, if necessary. He can deal with this sudden drop on his own. He's dealt with worse. ]
[ When Locus doesn't come back- well. He gives him a little bit. Five, six minutes before it pricks at the back of his mind that, hey, this was a pretty intense scene.
That Locus hadn't ever really been in subspace before.
That he'd been tense when he'd come out of it, squirrely-
And he just let him wander off on his own.
A+ job there, Taylor. You're the best. No, really, you're so fucking smart-
He pushes off the bunk midway through cleaning a bit of soot from one of Locus' pauldrons, slipping into the cockpit to check and- damn. NOt a good sign. ]
[ Fortunately he hears him coming, with more than enough time to clear his throat, rub idly at one eye before dropping his hand and turning to look over his shoulder. ]
I...I was just...
[ But his mind blanks on an adequate task that might have kept him here. Or a reason his voice might sound thick, tight.
[ He quirks a brow but his voice remains gentle. ]
Remember when I crashed hard your first time driving? It's body chemistry. You didn't do anything wrong then and you sure as shit didn't do anything wrong just now.
[ Offering as much opportunity as he possibly could for Locus to tell him to fuck off, Taylor reaches over to rest a hand on his shoulder. ]
All he knew for certain was that the drop-off had been steep, fueled by or fueling these thoughts, these doubts circling his head in the meanwhile. The assurance that he would in fact fail Taylor, that he had no business getting this involved with him in the first place.
His jaw works tightly, eyes flickering back to the dark beyond the pressurized glass. ]
What are you thinking, then? I know you don't really like talk'n about it and you can tell me to fuck off if you want- but if I know what's stressing you out? I can help. I want to help.
[ He circles around, dropping to settle on his heels in front of Locus, hand slipping from his shoulders to rest light and idle on his knees. Just. Points of contact meant to be grounding, nonthreatening. ]
[ There's a lot rattling around in there that could be said, but it boils down to one thing in essence, doesn't it? Swallowing hard, Locus lifts his eyes, ignoring that heavy weight in his stomach. ]
What if I'm a mistake?
[ It's quiet, matter-of-fact. He could be. He probably is. And Taylor will be the one to bear the weight of that when it comes time. ]
[ What if he's exactly what Locus doesn't need in his life right now? Taylor's made plenty of poor life choices- and that's a trend that won't end soon.
But this? This doesn't feel like one of them.
He rises up enough to loop his arms around Locus' shoulders, tugging him close. Slotting himself between his legs to fit right against him like he belongs there. ]
You're not a mistake, Locus. You are, honestly, one of the best damn things that's ever happened to me. And I mean that.
[ Funnily enough, it helps. Even if he'd rather draw back, try to retreat and nurse his wounds on his own as he's always done, he doesn't push him away.
Instead, his head turns, lowers to rest against Taylor's as his hands curl into his palms. Then, with a deep shuddering breath, those hands come up to press at his back. ]
I'm not a good person. I don't know if I'm good for you. I don't think I'm good for anyone.
[ Not in the sense they're quickly hurtling towards. ]
[ The background check had been thorough and massive- even before then when it'd just been curiosity and lust? No 'good guy' comes through his hands, needing his skills. No one lives like they lived and walked away clean to start fresh with the help of a criminal.
He knew. ]
I'm not exactly Mr. Purity either. You don't have to be good for me, man. Just be good to me. Anything else? We'll figure out as we go. This- [ He gestures to his bruises, to their embrace. ] This is- it's nice. It's awesome. I like it- but I can take or leave it as long as I can sit back at the end of the day and call you my partner. My friend.
That's what's most important. Everything else is icing.
[ Just be good to me. He makes it sound so simple.
But he nods anyway. Partner. Friend. They were that without question. It was this new, nebulous territory that had started to raise flags, to put that sense of insecurity at his core. But it's harder to entertain the thought now with Taylor here, reminding him that he knows.
He knows him. Forwards and backwards, all the dirty little secrets and bloody ledgers. And he's here. He knows his faults and still says he's the best thing to happen to him, and he's not sure if that says more about Taylor or his situation, but he's grateful all the same. ]
Remember what I said way way back at the beginning? If you felt shit getting weird and you wanted out to just say the word?
That goes for this too. If whatever this is makes you uncomfortable you can tap out whenever you want. No pressure, no judgement.
[ He'd be disappointed for as long as it took him to get his head out of his own ass but- Having a bro. A reliable partner? Someone he can work with and relate to? That's worth so much more than a kinky fuckbuddy with complicated emotions involved.
He sets that possibility off to one side, busy nosing in at Locus's shoulder. Just. Hanging here, holding him as long as he's allowed. ]
[ But he huffs, and it's almost something like amusement. Locus's eyes slide shut and he feels very, very tired. That sensation, the drop or what remained of it, lingers.
But he doesn't want to give this up. And his grip tightens, as if to silently prove that fact. ]
[ Somehow. He turns his head enough to get a look at Locus, giving his waist a tug. He's good where he is for now- doubly so with Locus holding on just as tight- but he looks beat. A good rest would do them both good. ]
C'mon. Let's go lie down and get some sleep, ok? FLISS and D will keep an eye on shit.
[ He keeps an arm around Locus' waist as he walks him back to the main body of the shuttle, tugging down the blankets on the bunk before nudging Locus to slip in first. ]
Dibs on the big spoon.
[ Something about being pressed up against his back helps him feel a little more like he's protecting him. There are implications, trust, yadda yadda- it's also comfortable. ]
[ That gets him a look that's only halfway exasperated, but he's got no interest in arguing. Instead he slides in, legs tucking upwards as he settles in on his side before glancing over his shoulder, waiting.
Well? He'd called dibs.
It was a little strange, growing used to the sleeping arrangements. Instead of another back pressed against his, waking to Taylor's breath against his hair, his heartbeat against his shoulder blades.
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[ Maintaining the facade of calm is relatively easy. Shifting focus, for one thing. He does take the offered bottle, however, taking a swift swig before adjusting his gaze to somewhere in the far corner of the shuttle. ]
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[ Standing does prompt a wince- fuck, he's gonna be sore later. Hell he's sore now, but he does what he can to ignore it. Take those few steps to the cooler, grab the water, leaning against the wall to drink instead of sitting on the bunk.
Giving Locus his space. ]
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[ The spare clothes are nearby, he knows. Slowly, he starts to push himself up to go investigate their whereabouts. Better than sitting and letting those thoughts bounce around his head uninterrupted.
That one string of thoughts in particular that come in a very particular voice. Something he doesn't need right now. ]
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He figured, though. It'd been awkward last time too- and even knowing what it is, what that space is like, what aftercare should and could be? Locus is...not entirely comfortable with examining that fuzzy space afterward. What's said, what's done.
Taylor swallows down another gulp of water and tries to drown his disappointment. He knew what he was getting into with this. Locus doesn't people well. He's still trying to sort himself out, yadda, yadda, yadda. It's not fair to have expectations.
Doesn't make him want to have them any less.
Water, clothes, applying medi gel to his own throat and shoulder once he's got his pants on, wincing at the bruise. ]
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To the bruise he'd left.
Locus hesitates, then crosses the shuttle, reaching to brush his fingers against the mark where it stands apparent. ]
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Maybe one day he'll actually listen to himself. For now he focuses on the middle distance, listening to D go through the data and physics of the latest module. Blinks but doesn't start at the brush of Locus' hand, eyes refocusing and flicking up to him. ]
It's a hell of a hickey.
[ When in doubt, humor. A hooked smirk, an easy smile. An easier out. ]
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[ Taylor is a bad liar. He knows that about him. But he smiles sometimes when he doesn't mean it, uses humor to hide behind. It's a pattern even he can notice.
But he lets him. He nods and traces the edge of it before pulling away, something sinking like a stone in his stomach. ]
...I'm going to see how much longer before we arrive.
[ Never mind that he could ask, here. But instinct when feeling weak, feeling exposed, is still to retreat. Old habits die hard. ]
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It's there- an unkind thought for a complicated situation but he's not gonna say boo. He's smarter than that- sometimes. Not always. ]
And I don't regret it.
[ Just as honest, slightly less bitter. His brows lift, almost daring Locus to make something of it. He said what he meant and meant what he said, he's not the one with a problem here. ]
Sure. I'll clean up our suits, maybe grab a nap.
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[ Maybe it's fine. Maybe paranoia is getting the better of him again. Or maybe something is wrong and what could he expect, really? Having no idea what he was doing, thinking because he read a few articles on the internet he'd be able to understand how not mishandle this?
His gaze flits away again, and he moves swiftly as he can towards the cockpit. Once there, however, he just slips into the seat, eyes trailing along the stars they're moving past.
Taylor may not regret it yet, but there's no doubt in his mind that he will. This can't end well. They're both courting disaster, at this point. Swallowing thickly, he lets his hand drift up to rest over his eyes.
Just push it down. Harder. Harder, if necessary. He can deal with this sudden drop on his own. He's dealt with worse. ]
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That Locus hadn't ever really been in subspace before.
That he'd been tense when he'd come out of it, squirrely-
And he just let him wander off on his own.
A+ job there, Taylor. You're the best. No, really, you're so fucking smart-
He pushes off the bunk midway through cleaning a bit of soot from one of Locus' pauldrons, slipping into the cockpit to check and- damn. NOt a good sign. ]
Locus? Shit. [ Shit shit shit. ] Talk to me.
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I...I was just...
[ But his mind blanks on an adequate task that might have kept him here. Or a reason his voice might sound thick, tight.
He can control this, he can. ]
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[ He quirks a brow but his voice remains gentle. ]
Remember when I crashed hard your first time driving? It's body chemistry. You didn't do anything wrong then and you sure as shit didn't do anything wrong just now.
[ Offering as much opportunity as he possibly could for Locus to tell him to fuck off, Taylor reaches over to rest a hand on his shoulder. ]
What do you need?
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[ Self-assessment? Still not his forte.
All he knew for certain was that the drop-off had been steep, fueled by or fueling these thoughts, these doubts circling his head in the meanwhile. The assurance that he would in fact fail Taylor, that he had no business getting this involved with him in the first place.
His jaw works tightly, eyes flickering back to the dark beyond the pressurized glass. ]
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[ He circles around, dropping to settle on his heels in front of Locus, hand slipping from his shoulders to rest light and idle on his knees. Just. Points of contact meant to be grounding, nonthreatening. ]
No judgement zone, remember?
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What if I'm a mistake?
[ It's quiet, matter-of-fact. He could be. He probably is. And Taylor will be the one to bear the weight of that when it comes time. ]
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[ What if he's exactly what Locus doesn't need in his life right now? Taylor's made plenty of poor life choices- and that's a trend that won't end soon.
But this? This doesn't feel like one of them.
He rises up enough to loop his arms around Locus' shoulders, tugging him close. Slotting himself between his legs to fit right against him like he belongs there. ]
You're not a mistake, Locus. You are, honestly, one of the best damn things that's ever happened to me. And I mean that.
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Instead, his head turns, lowers to rest against Taylor's as his hands curl into his palms. Then, with a deep shuddering breath, those hands come up to press at his back. ]
I'm not a good person. I don't know if I'm good for you. I don't think I'm good for anyone.
[ Not in the sense they're quickly hurtling towards. ]
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[ The background check had been thorough and massive- even before then when it'd just been curiosity and lust? No 'good guy' comes through his hands, needing his skills. No one lives like they lived and walked away clean to start fresh with the help of a criminal.
He knew. ]
I'm not exactly Mr. Purity either. You don't have to be good for me, man. Just be good to me. Anything else? We'll figure out as we go. This- [ He gestures to his bruises, to their embrace. ] This is- it's nice. It's awesome. I like it- but I can take or leave it as long as I can sit back at the end of the day and call you my partner. My friend.
That's what's most important. Everything else is icing.
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But he nods anyway. Partner. Friend. They were that without question. It was this new, nebulous territory that had started to raise flags, to put that sense of insecurity at his core. But it's harder to entertain the thought now with Taylor here, reminding him that he knows.
He knows him. Forwards and backwards, all the dirty little secrets and bloody ledgers. And he's here. He knows his faults and still says he's the best thing to happen to him, and he's not sure if that says more about Taylor or his situation, but he's grateful all the same. ]
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That goes for this too. If whatever this is makes you uncomfortable you can tap out whenever you want. No pressure, no judgement.
[ He'd be disappointed for as long as it took him to get his head out of his own ass but- Having a bro. A reliable partner? Someone he can work with and relate to? That's worth so much more than a kinky fuckbuddy with complicated emotions involved.
He sets that possibility off to one side, busy nosing in at Locus's shoulder. Just. Hanging here, holding him as long as he's allowed. ]
You're not a mistake. You're a choice.
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[ But he huffs, and it's almost something like amusement. Locus's eyes slide shut and he feels very, very tired. That sensation, the drop or what remained of it, lingers.
But he doesn't want to give this up. And his grip tightens, as if to silently prove that fact. ]
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[ Somehow. He turns his head enough to get a look at Locus, giving his waist a tug. He's good where he is for now- doubly so with Locus holding on just as tight- but he looks beat. A good rest would do them both good. ]
C'mon. Let's go lie down and get some sleep, ok? FLISS and D will keep an eye on shit.
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So he's tugged up, albeit a little reluctantly. But if Taylor thinks they'll be fine, he's going to hold him to that. They'll make it fine. He just...
He wasn't sure where all that had come from. ]
After you.
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Dibs on the big spoon.
[ Something about being pressed up against his back helps him feel a little more like he's protecting him. There are implications, trust, yadda yadda- it's also comfortable. ]
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Well? He'd called dibs.
It was a little strange, growing used to the sleeping arrangements. Instead of another back pressed against his, waking to Taylor's breath against his hair, his heartbeat against his shoulder blades.
Not a bad strange, mind. ]
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