"Tucker, I've seen you hit on and strike out with no less than a dozen women in the time I've known you. All I'm saying is maybe you should get some new material." Yet despite the terrible come-ons, here was Wash with a heated and hungry look in his eyes as he stood there halfway un-armored.

The older man had a pretty spectacular body thanks to the active and fit lifestyle he lived. He wasn't as tall as say Caboose or burly like say Sarge but was a nice happy medium between the two. And thanks to the skin-tight reinforced mesh of the kevlar bodysuit, every well-defined muscle was on display.

"Blowjobs absolutely count." He blandly stated and when Tucker suggested he spend the night sleeping next to him, he looked visibly torn. "I don't think you'd appreciate me crawling into bed with my armor on, Tucker. Learn some patience, would you?" Wash sounded aggravated but his eyes predictably followed the movement of Tucker's legs until there was an inviting space between them that he wanted to crawl up into. It wasn't that Wash didn't want this any less than Tucker did. He just had more control than the Sim trooper and knew that any relationship that got its start in booze was almost certainly bound for failure.

After a moment's hesitation, he reached for the clasps of his lower armor and began to fully divest himself of those heavy metal plates.