[ wash lets tucker draw away, letting his hand fall to rest on tucker's shoulder for a moment before he lets go. they're still close, and he doesn't draw away from that.
he's still not sure what to say, but he has to try, right? ]
[Another minute to breathe. To let those emotions finally sink down before Tucker takes a slow inhale, then takes half a step away. Looks out over the railing again.]
Y'should probably go back to sleep.
[An admission: he won't be going back to sleep for a while.]
[ well - no, wash is up. as tucker said, he's got him spoiled, and it's not easy to admit but he sleeps easier with tucker nearby. he shrugs a little. ]
I might go read on the couch.
[ offering to give tucker space without actually offering. ]
[He thought for sure Wash had read everything they'd managed to bring up, but. Who knows, maybe he found a way to download more stuff with the shitty signal they have up here. Or maybe Kimball takes pity on him and sends new stuff.
Tucker takes another look out at the landscape beyond their buildings, the grass blowing with the breeze and the waters beyond it.
Then turns and comes back inside, his hand trailing down Wash's arm to linger on his hand.] Might join you.
Tucker lets out the breath he was holding and leans over to kiss the top of Wash's head, lingering for just a second, then moves around to take stock of this situation.
Yeah there... Really isn't a lot of room, but he'll make do with Wash. Shoves his arms up out of his way and climbs up on him, settling himself sort of half between Wash and the back of the couch, head where he's in the perfect spot to lay it on his shoulder. If he wanted to.
[ wash raises his arms up for tucker to settle himself down where he wants to, putting him half on wash and half against the couch. after tucker settles, wash rests his arms back down again, one curling around tucker's shoulders easily.
the question posed at wash gives him a moment's pause. books, scars? he assumes the deeper of the two, honestly. ]
From things getting thrown at my face, generally. [ he peers down at tucker. ] Locus did hit me in the face with a shotgun.
One of the actual times my squad saw fighting, I caught a blast to the face. It shattered my visor, sliced up a chunk of my nose. We were in atmo, at least, so it could have been a lot worse.
[ he wrinkles his nose a little when tucker runs his fingers along it, a reflex rather than a statement. ]
[Okay the nose wrinkle is cute. A little smirk quirks up at the corner of his lips and he pulls his hand away.]
Guess it could've been.
[Tucker takes a slow breath and thinks about that. There really is a lot they don't know much about each other. So. Maybe some quid pro quo? He shifts, resettles against him, the starburst scar against his side visible.]
[ wash lets tucker think for a moment, glancing over the text of the book kimball sent. it's another burgeoning chorus' writer's tale of love in wartime. there's a lot of those, it seems.
tucker's next statement has him looking down again, his eyebrows raising. ]
I-- [He thinks back. That whole time in the canyon, as weird as it was, is kind of a blur. He remembers huge chunks of it, but some of it... not so well. He isn't sure if that's because of time, the weird effects of the project, or Epsilon...]
I never figured that out. It was weird. [Gets his hand up to look at it.] Wyoming shot me through the hand once too.
[ he lets tucker gloss over 'never figuring it out'. if someone shot wash with a rocket, you can be darn sure he'd want to figure out who the fuck shot it. although again, first guess would be caboose. ]
[ it sounds... familiar to the scenarios they would run in the sim outposts, but wash doesn't say that. it's still very real to tucker. wash hums after a moment. ]
You know, I'm sure Kimball could send us supplies to get a message to him. Junior, I mean.
[One of the many (probable) scenarios, but. It was Tucker's son. And there's the hint that it may not have been quite as scripted as the rest of the simulation: Tex's genuine pause when considering whether or not to go along with it.
But-- Wash has Tucker sitting up, pushing up on Wash's chest to look up directly at him.]
You. You really think she could? Do we even get signal out here that far?
[Tucker watches him, trying to make sure it isn't the one time Wash decides to try making a joke. But no, he's- He's serious. Kimball might actually be able to help them with this.
He leans forward, resting his forehead against Wash's temple.] I gotta try. Before next Thursday.
[He nods, gentle so he doesn't jostle him too much, closes his eyes.]
Yeah. Only missed one so far [While in the desert] and... I don't wanna miss anymore.
[The taste and smell of war, a real war shoved the harsh reality into him that there may come a moment that he never gets to see his son ever again. And that his son may not ever know anything's happened to him from across the galaxy.]
[Tucker just. Doesn't even think, leans down to cup Wash's face in his hands and kiss him.]
Fucking love you, dude.
[He definitely, absolutely did not just end his first "I love you" with "dude" and it definitely was not half-thought out and more about his kid than his feelings about Wash.
[ except he absolutely did all of those things. wash can feel his eyes pop open a moment before tucker kisses him, surprised. he's not surprised that tucker does, if that makes sense - just that tucker says so, so freely.
there's a lot of things that he doesn't expect to hear from the reds and blues, and that was one of them. wash lets go of the book with one hand to raise one, curling his hand around tucker's wrist. ]
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he's still not sure what to say, but he has to try, right? ]
It is.
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Y'should probably go back to sleep.
[An admission: he won't be going back to sleep for a while.]
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I might go read on the couch.
[ offering to give tucker space without actually offering. ]
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[He thought for sure Wash had read everything they'd managed to bring up, but. Who knows, maybe he found a way to download more stuff with the shitty signal they have up here. Or maybe Kimball takes pity on him and sends new stuff.
Tucker takes another look out at the landscape beyond their buildings, the grass blowing with the breeze and the waters beyond it.
Then turns and comes back inside, his hand trailing down Wash's arm to linger on his hand.] Might join you.
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when tucker trails his hand down to linger on his hand, though, wash looks up with a tired smile. ]
Plenty of room on the couch.
[ he... doesn't move to make said room, since that room is on him, clearly. ]
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Tucker lets out the breath he was holding and leans over to kiss the top of Wash's head, lingering for just a second, then moves around to take stock of this situation.
Yeah there... Really isn't a lot of room, but he'll make do with Wash. Shoves his arms up out of his way and climbs up on him, settling himself sort of half between Wash and the back of the couch, head where he's in the perfect spot to lay it on his shoulder. If he wanted to.
Which right now, he's interested in Wash's face.]
Where do you keep getting all these anyway?
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the question posed at wash gives him a moment's pause. books, scars? he assumes the deeper of the two, honestly. ]
From things getting thrown at my face, generally. [ he peers down at tucker. ] Locus did hit me in the face with a shotgun.
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What the hell, how'd I miss that?
[He was busy being stabbed himself, but whatever.] Seriously, what the fuck.
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[ the first when he was first 'caught' by locus, the second during their fight after he'd pissed locus off. ]
It's like me and cars. People just don't like my face.
[ there's a little joke in there... somewhere. he swears. ]
The scar on my nose is from before Freelancer.
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[But the mention of the nose, Tucker glances up to his face. Hesitates one finger over it, then carefully runs his finger along it.]
Before, huh? How'd that one happen then?
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[ he wrinkles his nose a little when tucker runs his fingers along it, a reflex rather than a statement. ]
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Guess it could've been.
[Tucker takes a slow breath and thinks about that. There really is a lot they don't know much about each other. So. Maybe some quid pro quo? He shifts, resettles against him, the starburst scar against his side visible.]
...I got hit with a rocket launcher.
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tucker's next statement has him looking down again, his eyebrows raising. ]
Okay, was Caboose holding it?
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I never figured that out. It was weird. [Gets his hand up to look at it.] Wyoming shot me through the hand once too.
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[ he lets tucker gloss over 'never figuring it out'. if someone shot wash with a rocket, you can be darn sure he'd want to figure out who the fuck shot it. although again, first guess would be caboose. ]
At least it was a hand and not your head.
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[Tucker lets his hand fall, sighs through his nose. He misses Junior. The only thing he doesn't like about hiding out here.]
Glad I got to kill him.
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[ it sounds... familiar to the scenarios they would run in the sim outposts, but wash doesn't say that. it's still very real to tucker. wash hums after a moment. ]
You know, I'm sure Kimball could send us supplies to get a message to him. Junior, I mean.
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But-- Wash has Tucker sitting up, pushing up on Wash's chest to look up directly at him.]
You. You really think she could? Do we even get signal out here that far?
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Well, she's the woman to ask. We get some signal out here - if it's possible, she'll make it happen.
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He leans forward, resting his forehead against Wash's temple.] I gotta try. Before next Thursday.
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His birthday?
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Yeah. Only missed one so far [While in the desert] and... I don't wanna miss anymore.
[The taste and smell of war, a real war shoved the harsh reality into him that there may come a moment that he never gets to see his son ever again. And that his son may not ever know anything's happened to him from across the galaxy.]
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I'll send her a message, in the morning. I promise.
[ for tucker, he'll do what he can. ]
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Fucking love you, dude.
[He definitely, absolutely did not just end his first "I love you" with "dude" and it definitely was not half-thought out and more about his kid than his feelings about Wash.
Definitely not.]
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there's a lot of things that he doesn't expect to hear from the reds and blues, and that was one of them. wash lets go of the book with one hand to raise one, curling his hand around tucker's wrist. ]
Y-yeah. Me too.
[ is that playing it too cool??? ]
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