agnominal | IC Inbox

Because of my lack of interest?

[ No, do go on. Share in your infinite wisdom. ]

[So much wisdom. How does it all fit in one person?]

No, because of how you phrased it. Clearly, you've got a thing for him, but you're both being stupid about it. And I don't know why since it's all private and shit.

[Fuck. You guys.]

I don't care to see him hurt. That is why.

[ And maybe Tucker at least will admit that someone like Locus? Very capable of bringing the hurt. ]

[Hurt. Maiming. Death. All of it. And this fucking jerk was trying to keep York away from it.

But Tucker sighed and ground his teeth together for a moment and just--

--Fuck it. One word.]

Pancakes.

[And no, that is not a safeword.]

...what?

[God, seriously?]

If you like someone - really like someone - cook for them. Pancakes are cool because there's a million recipes for them and you can do some neat shit with shapes and designs and that, but it doesn't have to be that. In the end, they're happy to eat, and you get to give them something and actually watch them enjoy it. It's, I don't know, personal.

Besides, you can talk while cooking and eating, and it sounds like you guys have a shitton of backdated episodes to discuss.

[And there you go, bravado gone and some actual...advice? Maybe? But he did mean it.]

[ Well. He wasn't expecting that. It's not bad advice, on the whole. Some of it seems viable. York has cooked before.

It's an avenue he hadn't considered. Might not go anywhere. But it might serve better than words. ]

Connie knows how to make them to a sufficient degree. It could be worth learning, regardless.

Connie is--

[Nope. Not talking about that, either. For once, this wasn't about Tucker and he was content to keep it that way.]

It's not that hard; you could just watch Space Youtube and be fine. But I'm sure she'd help, too.

[ Hm. Interesting. Tucker usually speaks his mind pretty freely.

Well, he won't pry. One of them has to show some restraint. ]

Perhaps. I had intended to ask her about future sparring matches, regardless.

[Hey! He showed some, a little, a tiny bit. ]

So, why him, anyway?

[ That takes him off guard. He falls silent for a moment, considering. ]

...he has many admirable traits.

[ God this feels awkward. Why are you doing this to him? ]

You mean he's hot?

[And friendly. Tucker liked him, found him to be pretty cool, but it had to be more than that, right?

And it's totally awkward, but hell if Tucker wasn't nosy.]

No.

[ Wait. ]

He is. He is attractive, that's not what I meant. It's...just not the reason.

Real smooth there, Locus. You need to work on your game.

[Pancakes were a good idea; maybe he'd be too busy eating that he couldn't fuck up that breakfast talk.]

So, what is it?

I was alone when I came here. I had thought it would remain so.

He was...kind. He treated me as a friend. The first to do so in years.

Did you tell him?

Yes. Perhaps in different words, but...he must know.

I don't know, man. I mean, I don't want to bang my friends because they're...well, you've met them; they're assholes. Maybe it's something like that?

That is not our way.

You know what I was. He chose to believe in me. To see the good in me. He would not rest until I could see it to.

Do you know what that is? To feel unworthy, until someone looks into your eyes and deems you so?

[There's a long, long silence, the kind that stretched on too long to be nothing or a simple malfunction of equipment. Because yeah, Locus, he got it, he did, and the similarities between them that were mounting was warring with his anger and sense of self-preservation. They should have nothing in common. Nothing. At all.

But fuck, he knew that feeling, sure enough. Because as much as he resisted it when Wash actually started training him, making him do laps, working his ass into the ground, when he believed in Tucker to do better, be better, to have this potential that Tucker had never seen anyone else give him, Tucker felt something that he hadn't known before, a level of pride and acceptance that came from the outside.

And then when Wash trusted him as the leader of the team, his friends, his fucking family, and that--]

We're so not have this conversation.

[Way too personal. Way too anything. His voice, even guarded, gave away everything he felt, though; he never was good at hiding his feelings.]

[ So he does. ]

...you need not answer. I was simply trying to explain.

[ The feeling is a strong one. Maybe Tucker can understand now how it first began. Why 'getting laid' isn't the point. ]

Yeah, but this isn't about me.

[But, sure. Okay, so maybe he got it a little more now, found it made a little more sense about things. The first time someone ever believed in you, that shit was a powerful, powerful thing. ]

Talk to Connie. Make him pancakes. And when we spar again, I guess let me know how that shit goes. Or don't.

Hm.

I will bear that in mind.

[ There's a pause, and then... ]

Thank you.

[Hear that sigh? That's a sigh because what the fuck was he doing? He shouldn't be trying to help at all!]

Dude, don't make this weird.

It's far too late for that. You chose to come speak to me, remember?

[ Hey, guess who's slightly more self-aware, it's this guy. ]

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lovernotafighter - 2017-07-30 14:25 (UTC) - Expand