anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue pt 2

There's no...growling. No insistent kissing or bruising, none of the usual 'rawr you are mine and MINE ALONE' things that are both hot and fun an amazing and fairly predictable. Maybe he read this wrong? He's-

It doesn't make sense that Locus is alright with this, there's no reason for him to be alright with this. York does look up now, eye wide, brow furrowed. Trying to read the lay of the land here but- when in doubt? go with honesty. "A lot of unresolved sexual tension that I kinda tried to resolve."

A beat.

"...I do. I'll- stick to texts, stay in the armor when we run the op- it won't happen again. I'll get over it, I'm good at that."

Perhaps it would be more in line for him to feel angry about this. And yet he doesn't. Maybe it's simply that he understands that York has a past, has people he felt a certain way towards, and him acting on those feelings was who he was. Not an attempt to hurt Locus, but to set some of those ghosts to rest.

Perhaps he understood more than a little exactly how quickly Agent Washington got under your skin, despite your best efforts to keep him out. The man didn't even have to try. It was...unnerving at times.

"How did he react?"

Still no trace of anger. Not much of anything to be read on his face, save curiosity.

"I'll- what?" Another deviation from the norm and he's trying to apologize here. He is trying to make things right, ready to grovel for forgiveness and Sam just keeps on looking at how this is supposed to play out and doing the opposite.

What the fuck?

At this point Taylor should be used to this kind of surprise from Sam but it always catches him off guard for a moment.

"Confused, at first? Angry. He's bitey. For a little bit he was into it, like half a second- aaand then he pushed me away because he was upset and confused and we both remembered that I'm fucking married."

"Hn. A salient point."

There, a little hint of a grumble. He doesn't like the idea of being forgotten about, least of all for Washington, but the rest of it? It follows a pattern he's come to recognize.

Taylor always expects the worst. Always. Especially when it comes to people judging what he's done.

"And this...pledge to keep your distance. This is for my benefit, I assume."

"It's just tension. I don't love him. I didn't back then and I don't now and it was a stupid thing to do, I'm fucking awful with impulses-" He scrubs a hand through his hair, wincing at the rumble. "I'll sleep on the sofa tonight."

He's earned that, he's very sure he's earned that and it'll suck not sleeping curled up with Sam but he fucked up. You fuck up you sleep on the sofa.

"Yes. I don't- we don't need me getting distracted over a bullshit nothing kneejerk reaction while I'm trying to keep the people that mean the most to me safe. I don't wanna be that guy, I can't believe I was that guy for a hot second-"

"You love me."

It's not a question, but the tones says it requires an answer all the same. Those pale eyes don't shift an inch, staring down at Taylor as he squirms and ruffles his hair and starts to inch closer to that self-imposed exile he tends to resort to when he feels he's crossed a line.

As though that would change anything about this.

"Of course." Brows pinched, eye narrowed, jaw set- visibly confounded because this? Not how he saw this talk going. "More than anything."

He'd give up everything for Sam in a heartbeat. Do anything to keep him safe and happy. There's nothing he wouldn't give up or try to get if Sam asked, nothing.

"And you would return to me."

Because this isn't so different from the dance they've done before in clubs. York goes and gathers attention, flirting and feeling and feeding from the adoration. But he doesn't go home with anyone else, and Locus is always certain to cover any marks left behind by his own. They're both content with that arrangement.

He doesn't love Washington, he simply needs to 'resolve' this. It would benefit them to do so before the mission, certainly, but more than that? He finds it's difficult to deny York anything he openly wants...particularly when he's so ready to deny himself, and punish himself for daring to want.

"Always- wait, what?" That sounds an awful lot like the agreement they came to their first time in the clubs. Sam cutting him loose with the understanding that Taylor comes home with him, that no one else touches him in a way that matters. This?

This might matter. But mostly it's chemistry and unresolved issues he can get over with time and distance.

"You know that."

His eyes narrow, and one hand lifts to cup the edge of Taylor's jaw, holding him firmly in place. "Then stop preemptively punishing yourself."

None of this slinking around, banishing himself to the couch, imagining the worst scenarios. None of it. He's having absolutely none of it, even if he knows why Taylor might have anticipated that reaction. The corner of his eye twitches slightly in vague annoyance as he shakes his head.

"You want him. And the only thing stopping you from resolving this is your fear of my disapproval."

"I shouldn't." That's what it comes down to. He shouldn't want wash, they weren't anything and aren't anything other than complicated and he had Sam. Who he loves, who loves him, completes him, grounds him. Why does he want anyone else?

"I am not angry with you for wanting him."

It would be rather hypocritical, for one. But that's a complicated matter.

"...what?" That- that doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense. "But I shouldn't. And I can not. I just need some time and it'll- I won't do it again."

"Perhaps. I'm simply stating what is, not what should be. And I am not angry with you for having kissed him. Or any of the rest of it."

With a frown finally creasing the edge of his lips, he cups a hand to the back of Taylor's neck. A tried and true method of calming him down again.

"Now, stop looking like you want to run away from me."

"..." He has to take a few seconds to chew on that, blinking into the middle distance as Sam's hand settles on his neck, right over the port-

And as per usual the tension unwinds from his shoulders, his head rolling forward to thud against Sam's chest. "Sorry."

Tentative hands slip up to curl in his shirt. "You're really not mad?"

"I'm really not." The frown eases somewhat as York's head settles against his chest. "Though I understand why you imagined I would be. The situation is more...complicated than that."

"...You kind of want him too, don't you?" The way he'd spoken about Wash in the past- he could see that easily. And oddly enough it doesn't...make him tense up all frustrated and angry. If anything part of him would find it really fucking hot.

"As you said, I do not love him. There is simply...tension there."

He could deny it, but he sees little point in lying about it. In fact, this might help York to see what he means.

"Are you angry with me for that?"

"What? No." He tips his head back enough to peer up at Sam again- truly confused at the lack of upset. He isn't about to run off and live with Wash (for so many reasons) and has absolutely no fear of Sam doing the same. They're happy together. Harried right now because of this fucking AI bullshit but-

Happy. He's never been happier.

"...I think I see where you're coming from, now."

"Good. I have never been very good at explaining feelings." Locus's nose wrinkles slightly, before his hand gives the back of York's neck a few soothing strokes. Better now, yes?

"I would never deny you something you want. You know this."

Much better. He melts against Sam's chest, eyes slipping closed as he leans in. That particular shred of guilt taken away- there's still the rest. Old, ragged wounds ripped open by the meeting and he's...he's alright.

He might not have done the noble thing but he did what he needed to. That's gotta be worth something. "Same to you. I have a hard time telling you no."

"So the next time you assume I will be angry with you, you will talk to me first."

Since York is in the mood to take requests, might as well lay that one on the table and see what he does with it. With his thinner frame leaning in, Sam grunts and winds both arms around him to hold him steady. It had obviously been quite the ordeal, this meeting.

"Will this complicate the mission?"

"I don't wanna be a greedy asshole, though." But- if Sam's alright with it- if this is implicit permission or at least acceptance granted...is it still a greedy asshole thing to want? He'll have to gnaw on that for awhile. For now he can just lean and breathe and be.

"No, not on my end. I don't think on his either- it's more the reminder that I'm a fuckup that has him upset with me. And the whole 'leaving him to die and think I was dead' thing."

"That, I cannot help."

Though he wishes he could. In truth it's a very understandable thing for Washington to feel bitterly about. Even with this revelation of York's feelings concerning him. There are intricacies at work here that really are just beyond his scope of being able to handle.

This? Holding York and soothing him. This he can handle.

"Nah, that's for me to work through." But it was worth it. To stumble along half blind and all alone until he landed this. Till he earned this. And that'll be worth any weight of guilt his past might throw at him.

He tilts his head enough to nuzzle up under Sam's chin, breathing him in. Warm skin, aftershave, that shampoo he likes. Scents of home.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject