Movie Night VI: Direct to DVD

[unrecovered]

Who| Wash and anyone who wants to join
What| Movie night!
Where| The same lounge it's always in
When| After Time Ripples, Mind Slayer, and Wash Dies At The End
Warnings/Notes| Yet another classic!

It's been an odd few weeks, to say the least. Wash barely waits to be out of the hospital before he heads to the lounge to set up a movie night. He's had a request for a classic, and he'd managed to get in an order for the film before everything had gone batshit insane, so it's already arrived and he's just about ready to go.

The usual snacks and drinks are set up, along with a few mugs and goblets that are a little closer to theme. There's also the usual sofas and couches, draped with blankets and with bean bag chairs strewn around around the room. The usual sign hangs outside the door, with the movie's MPAA rating and a brief summary of the movie's plot, along with the usual note: Movie night is neutral territory.

The movie tonight, of course, is The Princess Bride.

Comments

[goddamngrenades]

"Tequila, body shots, bad choices?" That might not have been so bad if the worst it's done is make them take a closer look at their relationship. "Also known as 'the moment when I realized I was attracted to you?' because until then you were firmly in the 'bro' category, man."

No potential romantic entanglements in that category for the most part.

[agnominal]

"Attraction was a part of it. But you are generally attractive." Locus frowns, gesturing briefly with one hand. "That by itself would not have seemed unusual."

It was all those more complicated notions. The vague, uncertain ones, the spikes of jealousy and possessiveness that he did his best to bury.

[goddamngrenades]

"I-uh." Projecting that he's hot stuff when he still feels like it (roughly half of the time) is one thing. Having some kind of confirmation is. Well. Flattering. He shoulders it as easily as he can, not blushing but not preening either. Focus, York. "Then...what was unusual?"

[agnominal]

"It's difficult to describe."

That frown doesn't seem to be going anywhere, and he's still not quite looking at York, trying to sort out whatever this is in his head. "Wanting to be near you. To be a source of happiness for you. Even if what might provide that happiness remains vague and theoretical at best. It has not stopped me from considering it."

[goddamngrenades]

"...that's how people feel about their friends, man." Okay so they've dialed back down to 'friends that think the other is hot' which...well, he can live with. Crisis averted. "Generally that's how friends are."

That's how it's always been for him, anyway.

[agnominal]

"Washington is my friend." Locus levels a look at York, at that. "I know the difference."

At least enough to know the difference between 'this person is important and I will stand beside them' and 'lying awake wondering about ridiculous details about their life and wishing they were there'.

[goddamngrenades]

"Lay out the parameters for me." Using abstract language isn't helping either of them, here. "Drunken makeouts aside- what is different between how you feel for me and how you feel for Wash?"

Because there's a detail here they've both got to be missing.

[agnominal]

The furrows in his brow dig deeper as he tries to think of the right method of description. "Thinking of him does not hurt," he finally decides, after a moment. "But it is...not an unpleasant hurt. More the ache after a good sparring match than any true injury."

Ache. Yes. Ache is a good word for it. Perhaps a bit on the dramatic side, but that's never stopped him before.

"I desire proximity in a way I do not with him. We are closer than most, given our shared history, but I would not wish to wake up beside him. Share a day with him. Time, yes, but..." He looks frustrated again, shaking his head. "It is different."

[goddamngrenades]

One word, four letters and Taylor's flinching. Okay. He's hurting his friend by-

Or. Not?

Words mean things Sam. Jesus. He tries to shake off that unpleasant knot followed swiftly by a warm sort of weight in his gut at the thought of waking up and- yeah. Yeah okay this shit isn't one sided. And he's fucked. "Something's gonna go sideways, you gotta know that."

They've seen his legacy- he fucks it up. Every time something's off and it is always on him.

[agnominal]

"Worse than years of manipulation and lies culminating in one of us being blown off the top of a tower?" Because otherwise, they're passing the bar. It's a really, really low bar here, York.

Locus finally pauses, turning towards him. "I've told you how I feel." Clumsy attempt that it was. "You've still said nothing. I believe this is somewhat of a reversal."

[goddamngrenades]

"Sounds like effort." A lot of effort spent hurting someone he cares about and, generally, he's not about that. Not his bag, not his deal. Oblivious maliciousness and ignorant harm, that's what he does.

Did.

Might yet do. Augh.

"I'm...processing." Green flickers in the back of his eye for a moment, proof he's got help in that area. "It's been...awhile for me."

[agnominal]

Locus goes very quiet, watching him. Watching Delta pinging in the back of his head, and he knows this is difficult. Maybe more so for him, when he knows all the ways it can go so terribly wrong for them.

"...if you need time, I can give you that. Just promise me you're not going to try what you did tonight again, and you'll speak to me, first."

[goddamngrenades]

"...but skipping the awkward transitioning phase is more efficient." Coming from someone with experience in the awkward transitioning phase- that ought to count for something. No stilted conversations, no learning how to talk with these new parameters on them, no odd fumbling for hands or new boundaries-

It's. Easier to not. "I thought- if I didn't make a big deal out of it, it wouldn't be a big deal. We could just...go forward and skip all. This."

[agnominal]

"Taylor."

His arms fold, but the look he gives him is almost one of pity. He wants to avoid the familiar steps to an old dance he's long fallen out of love with, fair enough, but...

"This is a big deal. Whether we pretend it isn't or not."

[goddamngrenades]

"Making a thing of it is where I go wrong. Always." The pattern tends to prove true and there's that flare of green that steady hand scraping through his hair to settle himself. He tries too hard or follows the wrong pattern or-

Something.

It is always something he fucks up in interpreting intent or desire and trying to keep up with expectations- falling in whatever with someone that has zero is a fucking blessing.

[agnominal]

To that, he can't really say much, can he? York knows his way around relationships in a way he never really will. He can't offer reassurance, doesn't know what the future might hold, doesn't even really know for certain what it is York does feel.

So, instead, he continues walking. It appears he's been leading the way up to the Observation Deck, thankfully relatively empty around this time of 'night'.

"...I knew you didn't want to get involved with anyone. I won't ask you to if it's still something you don't want. You know this."

[goddamngrenades]

"For the longest time all I wanted was somewhere D and I would be safe." That's it. Something small and simple and utterly impossible back home- and yet here they are. "My metric for...wanting shit for me, not cuz I need it but cuz I want it, is kinda skewed."

The fact that he's still surprised he's got all this space for himself nowadays is more than proof enough of that. But. He falls in step, wandering up to the observation deck. The same place they met but now? Neither of them are in armor and he's the one feeling...guarded. "...I wouldn't be so scared if I didn't want to try."

And there it is. He does. It's fucking terrifying- but he does.

[agnominal]

Somehow, being such a small speck in that vast sea of black and pinprick lights? It helps. It's grounding in a way he can't quite articulate. Humming quietly in thought, Locus finally pauses on the walkway, turning back towards York.

"Are you afraid I'll hurt you?"

[goddamngrenades]

"I have a history of people I put myself out for leaving." And there's Azucar. Sombra. That whole...aspect of the beach night they haven't talked about. She bails? She'll take Locus with her because...he needs someone and she's got him wrapped around her pinky finger.

Taylor needs the Legion, needs what it means he can do more than he needs either of them the same way they'd need each other. "It's not entirely unfounded."

[agnominal]

And even if he doesn't. Even if he doesn't go with Sombra when she beckons, he'd go home to do what he has to done. To finish the task he'd given himself, to make things right. He can't stay with the Legion, not indefinitely. Not the way York has to, simply to exist.

"...it does complicate things."

[goddamngrenades]

"...you've got to go back eventually." To do...whatever it is he needs to do. Make things right. Be a better man than he'd been previously. He's got no such option aside from what's offered to him here.

He walks past Locus, leaning against the railing, not entirely unlike how he stood when they met. "It's not that I don't care about you. I do."

[agnominal]

"It's that it will end. Eventually. Regardless if it goes well or poorly."

Locus watches him move towards the edge, the hunch of his back as he leans, and there's something odd. That ache again, but this time in something like sympathy. York's seen so many relationships end. Fail. Does 'ending' constitute a failure regardless?

And maybe there's just not enough left to give after that many attempts.

[goddamngrenades]

"Kinda tired of watching people walk away. Or. Kick me up an elevator shaft." Details. He feels tired down to his bones in a way he hasn't had to think about since all his life, all his world up till these past few months was focused on survival. Keeping his head down, keeping Delta safe.

A whole wide galaxy of possibility in front of him now and this one thing he might want? It'll end. It's finite. Most things tend to be but relationships with expiration dates do not go well in his experience. "I can't ask you to stay."

[agnominal]

"...and I can't ask you to put yourself in that position again."

Well. That answers that, then. Rather definitively. It's not the answer he would have liked, not the answer he hoped for, but he understands. This is the painful part that York had hoped to avoid, simply by leaping ahead to all the familiar affections that came with being in a relationship.

But it would have surfaced, sooner or later.

[goddamngrenades]

"...You get where I was going now, wanting to skip this part?" Just. Dive into the fun, warm, comfortable part of being with someone and avoiding all this existential dread. The flirting, the fun, the casual camaraderie- it'd been nice for the half second he'd had it before Locus locked up and wondered what the fuck was going on.

Kind of impossible to reach for that now.

Doesn't stop him from turning enough to make room at his side, from extending an arm to Locus. Wiggle his fingers in a 'come here' curl. In this quiet space where everything feels so massive and he feels so small...maybe he can steal a little of what he'd wanted earlier. Before they had to leave and put this away for good.