thisavrou | (no subject)

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[Wash appears on the screen, grudgingly out of armour, his face drawn and pinched around the mouth. He looks exhausted, eyes sunken and dark with exhaustion. Arriving here is just one more thing that seems specifically designed to fuck up his life.]

My name is Ag- [No, he's not Agent Washington anymore is he? He's not with the UNSC. He's not with project Freelancer. He's not anything.] My name is Washington.

They said that- [He can't believe he's saying this. His life is a fucking joke and his death will probably be the punchline. Until then, he is stuck dealing with this shit. Assuming he hasn't snapped altogether. That's also a possibility.]

They said that I have been sucked in through some kind of bullshit dimension hopping. [Yes, his teeth are gritted as he says it.] I'm looking for anyone who knows what the UNSC is.

[It's not that he wants to find anyone from home. There's no-one he cares for left alive and even then... well, he tries not to think about them too much. But he just needs someone to remind him that that wasn't all fictional.]

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I've slept in this plenty. It's fine.

[Too vulnerable without it. At least it offers some protection.]

Okay.

[ York straddles Wash's hips and braces himself with his hands on Wash's shoulders, feeling how tense he is. He doesn't comment on that, or the scars, just starts to knead the tension away as gently as he can at first. ]

Let me know if this hurts.

[He's one big knot of tension really. And it makes it hard to lie down comfortably or relax. It hurts and he tenses up more when York straddles him. For a moment he remembers being held down, but he forces it away as York's hands rest on his shoulders and lets the warmth seep into him.]

[ York is patient and thorough, slowly adding more pressure and working his way down Wash's back. Focusing on each knot in turn. His hands are warm and strong and he won't quit until Wash loosens up at least a little. ]

[It hurts a little, but it's the same kind of deep ache that he'd got from a really good workout, the kind you only get when you know something is working. Despite everything, he can't help but relax bit by bit as York works him over, digging deep into the muscle and tissue and loosening the knots of tension that have been there so long that Wash had forgotten about them until now. A soft whimper escapes him and he presses his face against the pillow to stifle it.]

You're good at this.

I definitely used to be. Guess it's like riding a bike.

[ He doesn't comment on the little sounds Wash is making besides to pay more attention to those spots, going over his friend's back again once he reaches Wash's hips to make sure he didn't miss anything. That Wash is really relaxing. It's been a really long time since he had contact like this and finds it makes him feel better too, the act itself of leaving someone in a better state than they were before he touched them. ]

It's okay?

[Wash hums his agreement, not quite hearing York for a moment until his voice finally filters through Wash's brain.]

Uh, yeah. It's good. Really good.

[ York's working on Wash's arms now, kneading the muscles from his shoulder to his wrist and then massaging his hands until they're limp and relaxed in his. ]

I'm glad. Feels like you need it.

Mmmmm not exactly had much time to relax in... a really long time. Don't get massages in prison.

You can get 'em now. Don't even have to ask, I'm offering.

[ He's climbing off Wash now, though, to lie close beside him and keep stroking a hand along his back. Not leaving him. Not this time, never again as long as they're here. ]

[That feels nice. He's starving for contact even though he doesn't want to admit. He just wasn't the sort of person who did well on his own. It's not really a surprise then that he curled towards that touch, half asleep again and his inhibitions lowered.]

I'm fine on my own. This is just once.

Doesn't have to be.

[ He says it easily enough, leaning against Wash's side a little just in case he's changed his mind about that hug -- there are no strings attached. York just wants to help. ]

[He shakes his head where it's pressed against the pillow.]

No. Ypu'll all- all die again and I'll be on my own. Not getting close again.

...you can't live that way, Wash. Passing on relationships just because they'll end.

[ C'mere. Come on. ]

Managed so far. Just watch me.

Why would you want to?

Safer. It's stupid to trust people.

[ York had enough trouble living cut off from everyone back when it was absolutely necessary, he can't imagine doing it by choice now, with his friends here. He just lies there quietly for awhile longer, keeps stroking Wash's back. He hopes Wash can come to trust him again anyway. ]

Sometimes you've gotta take the risk.

I did. It won't happen again. I don't need anyone, and people are better off without me.

I'm not. I'm glad you're here.

[He could tell him, tell him that he's the one who killed Delta, killed all of them, even the Alpha. That would make him understand, wouldn't it? Would make York finally snap and prove that Wash wasn't welcome.

The words are on his tongue but he- just let him have one night. He can leave in the morning.]

I'll be out of your way soon anyway.

You're not in my way, Wash. I could get us a bigger place if you don't like the couch, I'm not hurting for money.

[ Part of him knows Wash is going to leave no matter what he says or does, but. He'd like his friend to stay. ]

The couch is fine. I've slept in worse places.

I'm better off on my own.

You're not. You just... [ He reclaims his hand, scrubbing at his face, not sure how to put this. ] I can't promise you that nothing's ever going to go wrong again. But you don't have to isolate yourself to be safe.

[He misses York's hand when it's gone, but like hell he's going to ask to be touched again. He's already got too close.]

Just... just drop it, York. I don't like it. I don't like people. The less contact I have with them, the better.

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