text.

[abide]

[ So maybe he sort of doesn't mean to send this as a mass text to the crew. Honestly, he doesn't know who he would have sent it to (if he'd been a bit more sober), but it's supposed to be a time of "year" where there's cheer and spirit, most of which everyone seems to be lacking these days. Also, because of certain complications regarding people he knows as well as the problem with the serum, he might have also gotten into more of the space booze than he should have a few hours ago. ]

I know it's been a rough couple of weeks for all of us, but if you need company or someone to talk to, maybe even a drink... You can find me in a tent a few down from medical.

I think it's important we try to stick together a little longer. [ Uh, yeah... At least it isn't a video of a huge, rallying speech this time. ] Stay safe.

Comments

[abide]

[ Sorry, no soda this time. ]

I think there's one that might pass for whiskey, but I can look for something else.

[deconstruct]

why are u and bucky committed to making me barf

[abide]

So no whiskey. [ He wants to ask what he means by Bucky in that question, but doesn't. ] Maybe I can find something you like better.

[deconstruct]

cream soda please. i'll settle for drinkable water though.

[abide]

No soda, but I have some water with me. If you wanna share it.

[deconstruct]

yeah fine w/e, im almost to your tent so make yourself decent or smth, idk

[ not that steve rogers is anything but decent, but either way, andyr tugs the tent flap open without ceremony, ducking in with a hand lifted in a casual wave. ]

Hey. You okay? [ steve openly asking for company is a bit new, really, but maybe he's just feeling sociable. ]

[abide]

[ Steve's in the process of trying to reply when Andyr enters the tent, and it's a good thing they're in a relatively peaceful area, swallowing down the instinct to immediately leap to his defenses. Apparently, the booze is also making him a little jumpy, though he settles quickly enough when he looks at him. And then, there's that smile. Soft and careful, a bit open and a touch too sad to really look that happy. His question is a good distraction, so Steve focuses on that instead as he forces himself to stand up. ] I'm good. [ Words he's repeated for who knows how long now. ] You still want some water?

[ Please don't make him walk anywhere. ]

[deconstruct]

[ after two weeks of his ports being more of a stabbing pain then a dull, distant annoyance, andyr isn't too ready to do any more moving than he has to either, but he'd wanted to see steve. after the mess that the last few weeks have been, steve seems like a kind of solace he wants and needs. that smile steve flashes him, with though its sweet and warmingly honest, is also more transparent in the sadness steve carries around with him day to day, and there's a pang in andyr's chest, before he smiles back to him. he's not good. he hasn't been truly good since andyr'd met him.

he wafts a hand, dismissing, as steve rises up. ] Don't stand, I ain't the freaking president or anything.

If water's in arm's reach, sure. If not, don't worry about it.

[abide]

[ Sorry, some manners are just bred into him from an era he's never truly left, and it's more polite than anything else to greet a guest standing up. Never mind that standing is a rather precarious effort now that he realizes he's probably drank too much (and isn't used to it). Steve looks away from Andyr to the chair he'd been sitting in - definitely something makeshift - and slowly makes his way in the direction of the sleeping bag that's rolled out neatly. A cot might have been better, but they have to make due with what they've got. Right? His steps, as careful as they are when he moves, are a bit unsteady, and Steve touches the side of the tent for balance. ]

I can get it. [ He hopes, at least. Steve's just being stubborn now. ] You can have a seat. Not a lot of space in these things, but it's okay for one or two people. [ And he gives himself a second or two before getting to a knee and shoving his hand into the sleeping bag for the canteen he'd stashed there. ] Here. It's not much, but you can have it.

[ And with that, he tosses it in Andyr's direction — if Andyr had been standing a few feet off to the opposite side of the tent. ]

[deconstruct]

[ andyr watches steve waddle about. he watches steve dig stubbornly for water. and then, he watches steve toss a canteen two feet to his right. just... watches it leave his hand, watches it fly, watches it land on the end of the sleeping back and sit there, useless to all present. ah.

the post, and comment about drinks, makes much more sense now, and andyr starts out with a small chuckle, that turns into a snicker, before he attempts to feign admonishment. ]

Steven. Are you shitfaced right now?

[ because that is hilarious. ]

[abide]

[ At first, Steve just shakes his head, and then, when Andyr really starts to laugh, all he can do is just force himself to sit on the sleeping bag with the space whiskey still in hand. There's a reluctant sort of nod, dragging the fingers of his free hand through his hair to rub at the back of his neck. He doesn't look at him after that, trying to think of something else to say but unsure what. Does he really want to explain why he'd started drinking? Does it even matter? He's not sure. ]

The last time I got drunk was before the War. [ It's a thoughtful comment, almost a whisper. ] After that... Sorry, you don't have to stay.

[ He hadn't asked for this anyway. ]

[deconstruct]

[ andyr's mirth immediately sobers at the apparent sadness steve collapses into, having it pointed out. he'd assumed steve started drinking for fun, not for managing sorrow, but it is steve rogers, isn't it? pacing over, he plops down in front of steve, knees touching his, and reaches out for the bottle still in his hands, andyr's covering steve's. ] 'Cause of the serum, right?

[ like bucky - metabolizes too fast to have any real effect. he'd likely wanted this escape for a while. ] I wanna stay. I always wanna stay when it's with you, dork.

[ andyr tugs at the bottle, pulling it free and pulling the cap off to sniff at the liquid inside. ew. ] What's the best way to do this to reduce the length of time I spend hating myself over the taste?

[abide]

[ There's just another little nod, agreeing with the question. The serum. Everything in his life had changed after that, too fast and too quickly to ever get a solid grasp on it, and this reminds him of those few nights he and Bucky shared before being shipped back to the front, of a small bar in a tiny town. The unfamiliar look in his friend's eyes when they'd started drinking, and then, after he'd lost him, how much Steve had wished he could just drown it all deep in the same pit as he'd sat in the same bar now reduced to rubble and crying over something he should have tried harder to stop. All of this, their very situation, is so similar, and Steve can't help blaming himself for it. Drinking won't solve any problems, but it certainly feels like it should.

Steve glances down at the way Andyr's hand covers his and stares right through it, mouth drawing thin as he thinks. ]

Drink it fast. The more you have, the better it gets. [ Probably. Honestly, he's sort of forgotten what it tastes like now. Better than it smells, he's sure. ] There's still water if you want that instead. [ He'll just have to... get up and get it. ]

[deconstruct]

[ drink it faster, okay. andyr can do that. andyr thinks he already did that once with bucky, but then he was just being stubborn. now, he just wants to give steve company. he doesn't straight up chug it, like he had before, but he does pour a shot, throw it back, pour another, do the same, and by the third, his face is scrunched up, distaste clear, but that one's swallowed down as well, before he dives for the tossed aside canteen, to chase it all with a few gulps of water. ]

Fuck, that shit feels like being murdered. [ but there is a rushing fuzziness gradually spreading through andyr now, as he shuffles himself back over to steve's side, tugging the man's arm up to pull it around his shoulders. ]

What're you thinking?

[abide]

[ Steve is pretty sure he should comment on the fact Andyr is probably drinking it much too fast. He'd said it, but that hadn't really meant doing it. At least, not that way. Still, there's something amusing about the way his face scrunches up and how he scrambles around for the canteen, and Steve doesn't fight the way he pushes up next to him or drapes Steve's arm over his own shoulders after the fact. It's good for sharing body heat, and in the last few weeks, he's felt a lot colder than he's ever remembered being since before the serum. A casual tilt of his head, and Steve smiles at him, less sad but just as open. They've shared more than this, so it's not so much about personal space as it is about everything else.

There's a thoughtful hum. What is he thinking? ] This is different than I thought it was gonna be. [ He doesn't bother being specific either, letting Andyr come to his own conclusions. ]

[deconstruct]

[ it is too fast, and andyr's starting to feel too dizzy when it hits him, but thankfully there's steve's arm over his shoulders and his side to lean up against. he settles in against him, a mild panic in the back of his mind when he starts to feel his mental faculties fraying, but it's something soothed by steve's presence. not a thing anyone can do, but steve rogers has been special since the moment he'd met him.

andyr isn't good at coming to his own conclusions, especially not now, with everything feeling so fuzzy, and getting fuzzier, so he makes an odd humming sound, like he's trying to understand, but not quite getting there. eventually, he just asks. ] How do you mean? Like the planet, or...?

[ or death, or drinking, or... them? ]