anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue pt 2

Locus simply folds arm around his waist. No need for words, not right at this moment. There was the cool of the night air, the stars above them, and this. A quiet moment to enjoy the echo of ecstasy in one another's presence.

More will be...interesting, to say the least. But even this much is a great deal more than he was expecting, tonight.

Uncertain if he has to- if that connection is still wide open or not- York focuses enough to let that thrumming, boneless contentment seep across their bond. He's...happy, here. Like this. He's comfortable and feels safe, settled.

That itch to be touched has been scratched thoroughly.

Tucked up like this? Wrapped around Locus? He's satisfied. Even that thirst that haunts them both doesn't feel so omnipresent.

It's a long stretch of time before the feeling begins to fade, and sensation is no longer quite so raw. It's only then that he moves, shifting his head to peer down at York by his side.

"Mm."

Words. They don't come easily, not for things like this.

"Mmm?" He blinks, eyes slowly clearing of their contented, lethargic haze. Time yet before the dawn but- what else is there to do? He feels...full in ways he can't pin down. Settled, still. It's a nice change from that itching thirst he'd had when he'd woke earlier in the night.

"Next time let's wait till we get somewhere with a bed." It's not uncomfortable but- mattresses are nice, you know. To grind against.

"Agreed. We're paying for the room, we may as well make use of it." Locus almost sounds amused, but only just. This is better. This is a great deal better than the thick, awkward tension before he decided to dispense with the formalities.

Finally he starts to shift, if only to look down a little easier at the form lain alongside him. Still quite a sight in the moonlight.

Lean muscle and tanned skin made warm by blood and exhertion, he could be lounging under the sun if not for the cool night air and silvered glint the moon brings to his eyes. Everything in his posture cants in locus's direction, a half aware curl intent on keeping close. "Probably gonna need a shower."

Get the smell of metal and cheap perfume off of him.

Edited (Blood not box) 2017-07-26 16:32 (UTC)

"Probably."

Slowly, he starts to peel himself away. Sitting up at least to retrieve his shirt, to begin straightening his clothing and putting himself away. There's no telling where his hair tie has gone, however.

Unfortunate.

Those eyes shift back towards York after a moment. "Speak when you want something. I can read your feelings, not your thoughts."

"I don't-" Want anything. It's easy to say, not so much to mean and he cuts himself off with a sigh. "I'm good. I don't need anything more than what we got."

It'd been an unexpected bonus but- boundaries. He needs to remember that they are in fact a thing and remember to respect them.

So there is more. He phrases it so, he doesn't need anything, but doesn't answer if he wants. But they've pushed boundaries enough for one night. He's able to look skeptical without prodding further, and moves instead to pull himself off of the machine.

Landing on the dirt barely stirs the dust, and he gestures for York to follow. "I think that's enough excitement for our first night on the town."

Wanting hasn't been safe for a long, long time. Need is safe and honest and usually attainable. Wanting leads...to complications more often than not. He doesn't need to want anything. He's got everything he needs.

Slipping down after Locus is simple. Silent. God the shit he could get into now if he wanted. "Yeah. Time to head home?"

"Agreed. We still have some hours before sunrise, if there's anything else you'd care to see to."

A little formal considering what had just transpired, but he's never been fluent in pillow talk. Never been a 'people person'. York doesn't seem to mind that fact, is on his feet and ready to go, and it puts him at ease somewhat.

They know each other's minds, their feelings on the matter. That's enough for now.

He hasn't casually screwed around since, well. Leaving the project. It's weird trying to find his legs socially. Locus continuing on like nothing happened? Helps more than it stings. It was a thing. It happened. It may happen again in the future but it's probably for the bet if it doesn't. Odds are if he's feeling that kind of itch he can...find someone after he's eaten.

Easy enough.

"I'm gonna some equipment if we're gonna start hooking up to random access networks; but I don't think anything's open this late and I'd rather not try my first go around of breaking and entering without the suit."

"A wise decision. We have time yet to see your plans come to fruition."

All the time in the world. He remembers it passing differently alone, of course. Having someone here ties his senses to a sense of time, the passage of it, watching as things that are connected to him tick along.

Everything before seems a dream. This is good. This partnership will be good for them both. Of course, he doesn't know York views this as a one-off quite yet. Surely, given how pleasurable it was for both of them, they would continue.

"Back to the safehouse? I've got five years of pop culture and music to catch up on." Whatever they'd been playing in the clubs had been invigorating and utterly alien. He's so goddamn behind it's not funny.

With a nod, he finishes straightening himself out and nods back towards the perimeter fence. It shouldn't take long, but there's also little need to rush. The night is a good one, and it's been some time since he's been able to walk it alongside someone.

It should be wearying but- part of what they are makes it effortless. Must come with the super speed, agility, and strength. With the city relatively calm and the road empty? All there is above them is stars. Delta quietly pings in the back of York's mind, ticking through constellations in a habitual process. Identifying where they are to sort out where to head next.

But there's no need to go anywhere but the safehouse now. No running every night for a new hole to hide in. Somewhere to stay with someone that can keep an eye out. "What happened back there anyway? How'd you end up on the wrong side of that many guns?"

"We sought a bounty on a crime lord's son. He took it poorly."

That's the shortest possible version of the story, but still essentially what brought it all about. Recklessness. He's since learned several valuable lessons, and fallen out of that business altogether.

"One of those clubs belonged to him. The new management seems to prefer a more petty line of corruption. I only counted two armed guards."

Taylor whistles. "Damn. That's one way to make an impression.

A negative one.

"Less trafficking, more gambling. Awful lot of talk about a fight for a club without television screens." Shit he overheard between songs. Shit he'd given half a look but didn't dig into because, um, hungry? And it's not enough to take a risk on just yet. Though...

"...When I've got the hang of shit I'll look into their accounts. Call it a practice run."

"I doubt their security will be much trouble for you, given your skills. But if you like."

It will give him something to calibrate with, perhaps. Give him an idea of just how quickly he can do the necessary calculations and adjustments. Hacking, contrary to popular culture's depiction, is rarely an exciting thing to watch.

But he just might. For York's reactions more than anything.

"You'd be surprised. Crime pays well and if you can afford a solid IT guy with loose morals? You can get a solid setup going." A beat. "Provided you know enough to do that. Most people that work on the seedier side don't always get that they can be fucked over without guns."

His favorite kind of crime. The kind where no one gets killed over it. Mostly.

"Then I'll be interested to see what you uncover."

The condo they're staying at is in the city's heart. A long list of guests in and out, and a high number of rooms keeps them mostly hidden and forgettable, as does a limited amount of luggage to bring with them.

They'll be unbothered. They accept cash and don't ask too many questions.

It's nicer than any place he's been able to find in the past five years. Having a bed, a shower, running water and air conditioning? Kickass. Space to actually detail clean and repair the armor is also kickass, but enjoying the night as a civvie has it's perks. Like a lack of helmet hair and none of that titanium weave smell the undersuits tend to leave behind. He toes his shoes off once they're inside, fiddling with the new phone he'd snagged along with the clothes.

Something basic like this is a good place to start- pulling up the old holographic testing program's easy enough. Soon he's perched on the sofa, flicking through shapes as fast as they're rendered.

Locus eases his way into a chair, watching from a short distance away. This has never been a skill of his, save perhaps disabling rudimentary functions. Cameras, likes, seals and the like. What York does is considerably more complex.

And competence looks good on anyone.

Soon his fingers are a blur- mind keeping time with Delta as they flick through puzzles one after the other, faster and faster, only the odd blip of green and soft beep of a successful solution interrupting the flex and twist of his wrist. It's easier than it was. "I can keep up with Delta, now. I have to actually slow down for this shit to render properly."

"You will find a rhythm that works. I had the same trouble for a time. Everything felt as though it were moving too slowly for me. It simply takes some getting used to."

Locus's mouth ticks upwards slightly in approval.

"But you're doing well, thus far."

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