[Open Log] Kinks and Freaks, Oh My!

[lightofdawn]

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

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[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.