[Open Log] Kinks and Freaks, Oh My!

[lightofdawn]

Hold on tight, hope you ain't scared...

Comments

[lovernotafighter]

"...huh?"

Because seriously, what the fuck? They had been getting good, getting hot and heavy, he had a raging hardon and he knew he wasn't the only one. And, sure, they weren't going to have sex, but dude, petting? Dry humping? Mutual masturbation? Something?

But then...that. Then he was held, a tiny spoon against Wash, and Tucker just blinked. The mattress was comfortable and the warmth of the body all around him could make anyone drowsy, but that was the booze talking, that was the fight talking, that was the grief talking. He didn't want to sleep. He didn't want nightmares to pass out.

Apparently, asking for dirty talk was off limits.

"Wash, dude, we were just getting started." He wriggled against, weakly, and the music ended on a high note, his playlist finally over. Silence stretched in the little room, other than a few FINALLY! Thank fucking god it's off! heard through the walls.

"I don't want to sleep," came the small pout. Tucker frowned a little as he turned over under Wash's arm and leg, his face against the other's neck, his chest. He could hear his heartbeat and it was the most calming thing he had ever heard in his life. His eyelids blinked heavily as he looked up at him.

"What do you mean, 'where I want it to go'? Do you already know or something?"

[cryptos]

“What the hell is the point of starting something when we’re not going to finish it?” The blond man grumbled. Wash was surprisingly warm even through the full bodysuit.

He audibly signed in relief when the music went off because sorry, Tucker, you were never going to sell him on the virtues of Queen.

When the younger man moved to squirm around in his arms, he didn’t try and stop him and it was only after Tucker got more comfortable that Wash let his arms tighten around the younger man again.

This close, the Sim trooper could smell the curious combination of musk, cordite, gun oil and metal that made up the predominant top-notes of Wash’s scent. But underneath was the barest trace of the spicy smelling soup he liked to use in the shower and strangely enough, vanilla. Maybe it was his shampoo or the shaving cream he used but it wasn’t the sort of scent you would expect out of a hardened ex-spec opts agent.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” He murmured into the top of Tucker’s head as he own eyes started to drift shut. “I’d say that speaks of what I want. Now, go to sleep, Tucker. Tomorrow is going to be a long day too.”

[lovernotafighter]

"Wash," he muttered into his chest, "you smell good."

Tucker might have blushed after that, a hint of heat in his cheeks as those arms were suddenly tighter around him, as Wash admitted where they stood. He was there. He was close and in bed and they had fooled around and Wash hadn't taken advantage of him. Maybe it was because Tucker was drunk, maybe it was because Wash gave a shit. Maybe it was because he cared.

"Fuck tomorrow," he whispered. Tomorrow meant seeing Carolina. Tomorrow meant talking to Caboose. Tomorrow meant debriefing and press junkets and facing a day without Church, one of many. He opened his eyes and stared at that Kevlar suit, could feel it against his face, could smell his whiskey breath as against it.

But tomorrow meant Wash would be there, too. So, at least there was that.

"Don't tell me what to do," he murmured, and it was the booze talking. "I...I outrank..."

But the rest was lost in a quiet breath as he finally went to sleep. Or, rather passed out, but it was close enough.