Robbie Baldwin (
walkingballpit) wrote in
legionworld2017-11-25 07:39 pm
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Who| Robbie and any injured Legionnaires.
What| Visiting hours.
Where| Medbay
When| After Cancerverse.
Warnings/Notes| None.
Visiting teammates in medbay is far mandatory, but it’s just what you do, even if they’ll probably be out by dinner. Then again, Robbie’s technically been a medbay inmate himself for more than a day.
He’s allowed – encouraged – to move around at this point. He had several dips in the goo tanks and robotic surgery to repair the puncture wounds, but broken ribs are still broken ribs 1000 years later. They can accelerate the bones knitting back together, but it’s just pain management and keeping mobile enough to prevent things healing too tight and help his lungs stay clear.
Despite this, he still had to enlist one of the nurses to get him gag gifts for the other Legionnaires getting treated. Because flowers are great, but laughter is the best medicine.
Robbie approaches the bed quietly with only a wave and waits to see if his teammate even wants company at the moment.
What| Visiting hours.
Where| Medbay
When| After Cancerverse.
Warnings/Notes| None.
Visiting teammates in medbay is far mandatory, but it’s just what you do, even if they’ll probably be out by dinner. Then again, Robbie’s technically been a medbay inmate himself for more than a day.
He’s allowed – encouraged – to move around at this point. He had several dips in the goo tanks and robotic surgery to repair the puncture wounds, but broken ribs are still broken ribs 1000 years later. They can accelerate the bones knitting back together, but it’s just pain management and keeping mobile enough to prevent things healing too tight and help his lungs stay clear.
Despite this, he still had to enlist one of the nurses to get him gag gifts for the other Legionnaires getting treated. Because flowers are great, but laughter is the best medicine.
Robbie approaches the bed quietly with only a wave and waits to see if his teammate even wants company at the moment.
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And it's a point. Things with Angel had been different. That had been jumping in with both feet and getting in over his head. It had been going in hot until things cooled off. And he didn't want anything like that to happen with Robbie.
He squeezes Robbie's hand. "I admit, some of it is not wanting to let anybody down." A moment, then, "I really don't want to let you down."
It's served him well so far. Yes, the team is always important to him, but making certain Robbie is fine at the end of the day has taken a certain amount of importance since they'd left the Avengers. Maybe even before.
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He thinks about fights, about the early days of being Speedball again where the struggle to be normative was constant, arguments of principle that Robbie was certain weren’t going to go his way.
But then, they did. Because Vance swing the argument by strength of will, and all of Robbie’s pre-emptive anger disappeared. Vance can’t disappoint him. There’s some sort of universal constant in play. “You can’t just let me have this? Everyone's got this power where they say something and I get all turned around and nothing looks the same anymore. Just let me know something again.”
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Survivor's guilt is a terrible thing, after all.
It takes a few moments, but he looks up at Robbie. "I can't say that I won't sometimes worry about it, but I'll do my best to accept it." It's not going to be easy, but he can try.
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This is what he wanted, isn’t it? Vance isn’t questioning things, he’s backing off, and that voice in the back of Robbie’s head is free to say 'See, it was never true. No one could ever ignore enough of your shit to want you. I told you so.’
It doesn’t feel like winning. “Good. We’re good then. Everything’s back to normal.”
Except for the hand-holding, which never occurs to him to stop.
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But it's been going on a while and Robbie doesn't seem to be wanting to let go.
Vance rubs his thumb over Robbie's knuckles before snorting out a laugh. "Robbie, nothing with us has ever been normal." Another moment. "And we've always been good."
Before he can make himself stop, he tugs on Robbie's hand. "Can you stand up? I'd lean down, but my head might object to that." After all, he still has a concussion. But this totally calls for a hug of some sort, right?
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Which is ironic, because that’s what Vance is saying. Robbie laughs as he obliges and stands up – maybe it will hide how he short-circuited. “I don’t know who you’re talking about. I’m just a normal guy who was hit with a ray of weird energy – with his cat – and spent the next few years saving the world with the also normal guy who can move things with his brain like Matilda. Totes average joes.”
There's a pause as his brain finishes rebooting. "I guess the standing thing is my cue to leave."
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He pulls Robbie closer, reaching up to pull him into a hug. Without thought, he turns his head and presses a quick kiss to Robbie's cheek.
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Vance kissed him.
On the cheek, yes, but that doesn’t make it less familiar. A real kiss is more enthusiastic and charged with eager want. That was… gentle. Sweet, even. What right does he have to be anywhere in the same neighborhood as sweet?
Robbie realizes he’s frozen right there in the hug and backs up a few inches to combat how warm and close the room's gotten, but not completely away. He might feel like he did when Vance confessed his feelings – like Legion World got shook like as snow globe – but he’s not willing to blow up their friendship again. That hadn’t worked. He’d been miserable, lonely, and confused.
Maybe, if he doesn’t try to fight every surprisingly nice thing that happens, he can settle for confused in this new normal they’ve created. Just don’t think too hard about why Vance kissing his cheek is so nice.
Robbie licks his lips nervously and glances fleetingly at Vancebefore admitting, “I don’t know what to do next.”
There’s no safe way out or in this hug. It’s a mine-hug, and he wants a road map. How to move without setting off an explosion. The jury's hung on whether or not the kiss was a bomb or da bomb. Not enough evidence.
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"I probably shouldn't have done that after last time," he admits with a sardonic smile. "But I seem to have trouble with actually talking some times.
"I know that...that I jumped in too fast last time. And I'm not expecting you to return my feelings now. Maybe not ever." He takes a breath, then offers, "But I'd like to go on a date with you. It doesn't have to be public. Vegan pizza and movies in the Crashpad or your room or wherever you'd be comfortable would be great. But just...something simple." Something that could be a start. Maybe.
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He's trying to find his footing, easing his way out of the hug in what Robbie hopes is a polite manner.
“Vegan pizza and a stay home shame date. You really know how to impress a guy.” The tone is jovial, but the smile and the eye contact end abruptly as Robbie goes silent.
He knows what he should ask. He can’t keep making choices on Vance’s behalf because he obviously sucks at it, but even bringing up the idea could make today painfully worse. If it spares more in the future though… “What if it is never? Wouldn’t it be better – for you - if I left you alone? Rich, er, the squid aliens, I guess… look, I can’t even get the doc to give me a straight answer about whether or not I’m good for y- anyone. I thought, is protecting you now better than hurting you then?”
He hesitates on looking back at Vance, flicks his eyes over repeatedly as Robbie tries to assess how badly the rationale for his previous avoidance as landed. He isn’t sure if Vance will take advantage of the escape hatch that it simultaneously represents.
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Vance reaches out, taking hold of Robbie's hand again. "If it's never, then it's never, Robbie. It would hurt, sure, but I would get over it." It would take time, but he'd survived a broken heart before.
"As for whether you're good for somebody?" Vance shrugs. "There's not really an easy answer for that. And probably there's only a couple of people who could tell you that; you and whoever you decide to take a chance with." He looks at Robbie seriously. "I guess what I'm saying is...you know me, Robbie. When has the thought of pain in the future ever stopped me from getting right in the middle of things?"
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He catches himself on fine and swallows the follow up joke about how, if pizza and a movie counted as dates, Robbie’s been in a huge poly relationship since he was 15. He doubts it would go over big, and it might interfere with Vance holding his hand.
Robbie decides to upgrade that to really nice. Both familiar and new, it twists his stomach like a rollercoaster and is the only thing keeping him from sighing. He’s aware this is big. Huge, in terms of their continued friendship and what shape it takes. He will someday pinpoint this as the exact day he passed some point of no return.
Robbie just doesn’t know if he’ll regret it. There’s no crystal ball for experimentation with Real Relationships. Vance certainlyainly seems willing, and it’s not like Robbie is afraid of pain, as long as it’s his own.
“I don’t want you to get… I don’t know. Hurt.” Or over it, but he holds that in. What if everything Robbie thought of as them being bros was due to Vance’s feelings? If he gets over it, are they still friends? Were they ever? Don’t think about it. “I know you said no pressure, but can I get a when do I can freak out over something specific instead of whenever you ambush date me? And, uh, clarification on if kissing is something we do nowadays would be good."
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"You can freak out. That's allowed, I think. Things are a bit different now." He doesn't take his hand from Robbie's of course. "I think that, if you want to, kissing is something that can happen. It's something that I'm comfortable with, I think."
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He's not fifteen anymore, so he sees no need to act suave about the whole thing. Besides, there is no hiding how non-existent his love life has been from Vance. He's been right there for several years now. He knows that Robbie barely makes the effort to flirt with hot supervillains, and that used to be his favorite hobby. "And... right. Good, glad you're comfortable. Yeah."
... did they just agree to kiss? Wait, he wants to ask, when is that going to happen? It's suddenly more important than when the date is, and Robbie can feel the heat creep up into his cheeks. Someone save him from today.
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Glad you're comfortable. Which possibly means that Robbie isn't. Vance tugs his hand lightly, just enough to get his attention. "Next kiss is yours to initiate. With the same rules as the rest of it. If you're never okay with it, then that's also all right."
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That Robbie would’ve thought that kissing was great but the idea of kissing Vance was weird. The Robbie of six months ago would have said he was not part of that dance anymore. Male or female had ceased to be relevant. The calculations of dating and fondness don’t allow for people like him.
But this Robbie is half a year removed from regular external reminders of his failings. He has slacked on punishing himself and finds that he can no longer use his sins as a reason to never kiss someone.
Now, when he tries to think of a reason that will tell him what to do, there’s only the warmth engulfing his hand and cooling on his cheek, quite separate from the heat of the blush. Robbie thinks he knows what he would like to do.
“No, it’s not all right,” he said carefully. He doesn’t want to put Vance on edge, but Robbie feels like he has to telegraph a warning of what he’s about to try. Because it is trying, it’s an experiment with two subjects who are too involved to be clinical. “I won’t get you stuck in a monkmance if I decide I don’t like the physical side.”
With an impetuous speed that would’ve made teenaged Robbie proud, he stepped forward, straight into a kiss, before he could tell himself how much he didn’t deserve it. It’s a near miss, because he’s already telling himself what a bad idea it when his lips crash into Vance’s. It wouldn't be any easier with weeks and a date under his belt; the pressure to not disappoint would only get worse.
So he kisses the boy and doesn't intend to stop until they both figure out if they like it.
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This one is, though. It pulls a startled 'Mmph!' from him as Robbie kisses him, with a lot more enthusiasm -- or something -- than experience. Enough that Vance reaches up with his free hand, settling it against Robbie's face to keep him close while Vance himself turns his head slightly. Not pulling away at all, but simply angling his head so that their mouths fit together better, enough to gentle the kiss itself without breaking it. Making it easier on them both, even if his head pounds a little more with the movement.
Tightening his hand on Robbie's, though, he figures that's a small price to pay, really.
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Then, Vance’s hand cups Robbie’s cheek, and everything seems to change while he’s caught up in how much that ramps up the intimacy. The kiss doesn’t feel as forced, and Rob leans into it, reaching his free hand for Vance. It settles tentatively on his waist, despite a growing desire to tug him closer and go for a deeper kiss.
It would, he realizes, be clumsy and high school-ish. Like shining a light on how long it’s really been since Robbie’s kissed anyone at all. The thought of being found out as boasting, even years removed from his inflated claims, sours him on immediate further kissing.
Robbie breaks away and inches back, leaving Vance’s hand on his cheek and his own hand curled into a loose fist against Vance’s side. He wants to ask if that was okay, but can’t stomach a no.
“That was all right,” he hears himself say without confidence. It wasn’t quite – he feels stripped and vulnerable, and he doesn’t know where to look. “I – sorry. 'All right' got stuck in my head. I liked it.”
He shuts up before he can continue to make everything worse and continues staring through the corner of Vance’s mouth, awaiting judgment and berating himself for how hopeful that last sentence had sounded to his ears.
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It occurs to him that Vance isn’t the only one who got mixed up and overstepped the limits of friendship. He wants to flee. He wants to stay stock still and never rock this boat.
“Good,” he says when he finds his voice again. Vance hasn’t stopped touching him. Robbie tries to inject some normalcy, get back a little control. So obviously it's bad jokes. “I mean, who wouldn’t? Eat your heart out, Ryan Reynolds.”
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And yet, there's still a grin on his face. Even through the pain. "How about we go check in with the doctors, see what they want to do, then go back to...someone's room. Or the Crash Pad. Wherever's good." And could keep him awake.
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Vance doesn't pass out though, good sign. "I would be the best Deadpool. The friendly, neighborhood Deadpool. I do all my own special effects."
Not dropping the arm around Vance's shoulder, Robbie nods at the suggestion. "Wherever you're the most comfortable. I can sleep anywhere."
Anywhere Vance is, that is. Besides, someone has to keep an eye on him. "Let's go find the break room. I bet they're mainlining coffee."
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He slings his arm around Robbie, just for some extra steadiness before they head out of the 'room'. Which is mostly a few privacy curtains, really. "My room's good. And a little closer, I think."
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“I think I like being weird,” he says musingly, as he starts steering them towards the likeliest doctor hideaway. “I like keeping you on your toes. Always have. At the moment, though, I think flat-footed is the goal with the doctors. If you’re not in danger of dying, I’m not taking no for an answer. You just need to take it easy at home."
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"I think they just wanted to keep me for observation. And painkillers. Both of which you can handle." Especially as the painkillers are oral. Makes it a lot easier.
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