handelaar | not here.

Hey

[a few seconds later]

Where are you?

[then]

like right now

[He's. Alseep. In the Gardens, crashed on the couch. Yeah yeah Russia talked to him and he still insists on sleeping there for reasons he'd rather not get into. But all those texts in a row wake him up. Sort of.]

Awake

[After a lot of grumbling and sitting up and blinking at that answer he sends another.]

Why

[Even as he does it he's trying to fluff up his hair into something more normal.]

I have a thing for you. Can I bring it?

[God bless the text function eliminating all the awkward pauses and breaks and uhhhs that would otherwise include.]

[It's kind of pathetic at how that wakes him right up. A thing, what thing. He fucking loves things. Though there's the prickle of what is she trying to pull at the back of his mind and it's only then that he realizes he should. Probably take that anti-anxiety shit. Whatever time it is, he slept right past it.]

In a half-hour

[Long enough for him to snatch the last bit of tea that's left, long enough for the pills to kick in.]

Okay.

[She resists the urge to add that it's not ammunition this time, because that would not be funny even if he should be used to her broken sense of humor by now. But a half-hour is more than enough time for her to decide this is total overkill and just going to be the most awkward thing ever and she should just take the damn thing back to Tony's lab so he can use it for parts when he wakes up.

Not gonna happen. Things might be completely different to how she thought they were when she asked for this, but she still wants him to have it. So she waits it out and wheels it into the lift, which gives her enough time to examine it again. It's not painted simply because they didn't have anything that'd do the job, but Tony's work is neat enough that it doesn't matter. Every join is perfect and smooth. He's a rare case of someone being just as talented as they say, by the looks of it. And then she's there and it's too late to back out anyway, so she calls out a little more tentatively than she'd meant to.]

Hello?

[Good enough, and he takes his shit and buries his face in the smell of green tea and waffles between being upset that he can't share this tea with who he wants to and anticipating what she's bringing down. Half an hour is long enough for everything to kick in, though, so by the time he hears her coming the tea is gone and he's - not quite sprawled on the couch, but definitely relaxed. Arms crossed over his waist but feet wide apart, not snapping his head over but casually tilting and

Speechless.

Can't even say hello, just blinks from the bike, to her, down to the bike, up to her. Too shocked for even his jaw to drop open, let alone to respond.]

[Oh he's

not

doing

anything

that's awkward. She bites her lip against the flow of I know this is weird with things the way they are right now but even if this isn't ever going to be what I wanted it to be you mean a lot to me and I still want you to have this it's not a bribe or anything I'm not trying to buy you off that threatens and just drags a hand through her hair, messing it up at the back.]

Uh. Merry Chr- Sinterklaas?

[What he wants to do is throw himself off the couch and kiss her and take her for a ride and pull her close and take her for a ride and gripe at her for fucking up the word Sinterklaas just because it's cute and if he bitches about it maybe she'll say it again and punch him in the shoulder and maybe exaggerate her accent to make it sound worse.

What he does.

Is.]

Heather.

[Because that's all he can think to say. He can't decide if it's chastising for spoiling him like this, or wanting because fuck he wants it and her all at once, or - what. As it is he leans way back, into cushions, and pinches the bridge of his nose as he screws his eyes shut and takes a breath. Two. If he moves he's going to grab them both and never let go, and his other arm comes to tighten across him, just hugging himself or holding himself back from it.]

Oh. I. Listen, you don't have to take it, it's just - Tony wanted a project and it was the first thing I thought of -

[Okay no telling him that when faced with the offer of something constructed by a supergenius her first thought was to get something for him probably isn't going to make this less weird and wait what]

You said my name.

[Eloquent! And in spite of the awkwardness one side of her mouth is twitching up because he said it and he said it all goofy and it's really cute, even if he's pissed at her. But there's no need to make things worse by making him feel like she's laughing at him, and she drops her eyes to his shoes.]

Anyway, it's yours if you want it.

Edited 2012-12-28 19:29 (UTC)

[At that he snaps his gaze up and sits up and can't hold back the possessiveness in it. Of course he fucking wants it, of course he's going to take it. It's a bike and it's from her and who the hell is Tony but. Bike from Heder. It sort of overruns anything else, even the fact that she just called him out over the name kind of shit. He's not pissed. Not at her.
at himself all over again and it's worse that she shrinks back from it
At the way he suddenly flushes and looks down at his toes right along with her, like it'll give them both answers? Yeah. It sucks being so obvious when she's kind of told him she doesn't want to bother with it, right.]

Is that -

[Is that what she was going to offer him. But he can't keep it up, shame rising up all over again and in the end he doesn't want to know. Just. Admits it.]

Yeah. I do. Want to -

[Mouth, snapped shut. Wants to be normal, wants to be where they were, wants to be able to tell her and apologize and most of all wants to be back somewhere he can ride his bike around and the worst worry is that he'll get smacked with a passenger door.]

Edited (oh right html) 2012-12-28 19:44 (UTC)

[That twitching half-smile breaks into a full one at that, because even if this is still awkward as hell it's not so messed up that he won't accept it. It could be better, sure, but it could be a lot worse. So she moves closer, wheels the bike over to him because for some reason it's important to her that this is her giving it rather than him taking it, and huffs a laugh.]

I'm glad. Thought you could use something fun.

[She tilts it towards him - here, take it - and gives a tiny nod of encouragement.]

This isn't a test. In case you were wondering. We started it way back.

[Before everything turned to shit, but that doesn't need saying. She wants him to take it and have fun and be happy, not feel bad over what's happened.]

[Could use something fun and for some reason that's just as painful as every new thing he scrawls over Takeshi's tank. Or maybe it's because she needs to elaborate. Either way he hates just how much he wants it, and even as he grabs at it he looks up and if that doesn't pause the proceedings.]

Hey.

[And then after that he's not sure where to go, though he knows it's. Somewhere. So he nods down to the couch and sorts through all the ways he could start this out. But mostly he just wants to know that she doesn't think he'll pull anything on her.]

Hey.

[She laughs, doesn't even hesitate when he motions to the couch because if there was any way she could be sure he wanted it, any way she could make sure he was in control of his own feelings she'd already be on there, curling her arms around him and kissing his cheek and urging him to take it for a spin even as she held him where he was. She does none of that, just settles on the couch turned towards him - one leg folded up under her, one elbow propped on the back so she can rest her head on her hand.

Still, he looks... troubled. And she doesn't want that, that's the opposite of what this was for, so she fills the empty air with a little babble. Bike talk, right, that's easy.]

Go easy on the tires if you can, they were a total bitch. But I got to learn to weld.

[And when she laughs his eyes go right back to the floor again, even as his knuckles go white over the frame. It's funny, it's not, he has no idea how to feel at the moment other than messed up and sloppy even as he tries to refrain from demonstrating it. The couch sinks at his side and he wants it, that bratty laugh and the ability to lean against her without having to worry on it. Just comfortable, and he hates that they aren't.]

Yeah?

[Not that he's not interested. He's very interested. He's also very nervous and while her babble doesn't hurt, it doesn't help, either. This started out with hey and he wants to continue it.]

Thank you.

[Almost inaudible, and he's gripping the bike and staring at their feet and clenching his jaw even as he tries to come up with something more meaningful than thank you.]

You're welcome.

[A shrug, and then quiet. He's so tense, and the urge to ease that doesn't go away but even as unsure of things as she is now, it's clear enough that he's working up to something. So she bites the inside of her cheek to keep quiet, tucks her free hand under her thigh to keep from reaching out. Turns her head just enough that she's not looking right at him, because maybe if her eyes are on the garden around them instead of his face he'll feel less studied, more able to speak. And maybe if she's not looking at the tension in his jaw she'll stop wanting to run her fingers over it until it loosens, see if she can't coax a smile out of him.]

[This is a horrible time to get hit with a mack truck of what amounts to all the sort of breakup or whatever feelings he's been deliberately Not Addressing, but that's what has been happening for most of the conversation, and he knows he shouldn't be dwelling on it - he'd like that initial gleeful euphoria to bubble back - but the more he thinks about how he's fucking this up the worse it gets.

So when he looks over, eyes still halfway lowered and ready to dart away, only to see that she's not, he blurts out the first thing that he thinks, which is]

Still wanna kiss ya.

[not what he meant to say, and as soon as it's out he pulls the facial equivalent of "oh shit". But it's. True... so he just stays frozen, like he's waiting for her to punch him for that.]

I want you to.

[It's not really a fair thing to say, and when she looks back at him there's an apology for that in her eyes. There's still a part of her that could just kick him for saying that instead of just doing it, because if he'd kissed her all she'd have to do is not stop him. But when he phrases it like that it makes her responsible, refocuses the grays into stark black and white.]

I just - with everything that mask did to you [and she spits the word like a curse, like it's bitter in her mouth] I can't tell where you stop and it starts. And I don't want it if it's not real. If I take that from you when you're like this, then I'm no better than -

[Stanley, she's thinking, but she lets it trail off because she really doesn't want to have to explain who he was, least of all now. Almost funny, that even with all of his age and experience she's worried about taking advantage of him. She'd laugh, if it didn't hurt so much.]

[The last time he hugged her he couldn't let go, there's no way he's kissing her without warning. Though he doesn't move, his brows knit and he gets a little confused frown because if he wants to and she wants to then why aren't they, but her apologetic look keeps him quiet for long enough for her to explain it. And while he doesn't flinch at how she says it he tenses up enough for his knuckles gripping the bike to go white and back.

Then they go white and stay that way while he chews on his lip and nods. There's one big problem with that logic, but it's a big worry of his, too, so when he says it he has to drag it out of himself.]

What if I don't - [He sighs and shifts, wants to lean into her and almost does only to change it at the last second and sort of curl into himself, one hand tapping along the bike. Because, nope, still hasn't let it go.] What if I stay. Like this.

[Because maybe it's not a when you're like this. It might be pessimism but he's pretty sure the phrase should be you're like this now.]

Edited (typo) 2012-12-29 05:22 (UTC)

You won't. You won't.

[Maybe she doesn't know that for sure, maybe in the bigger picture that means nothing, but it at least sounds like truth because she believes it. Means it like she's meant very little else in her life. Her resolve breaks and her hand comes out from under her face to cup his, curve along the line of his jaw.]

Everything you've seen, everything you've been through, you think some dumb mask's gonna beat you? No. You're gonna beat this. And I'm gonna help. Whatever you need.

[It's true. It's got to be. She can't accept the fact that it might not be.]

[Again, he frowns, because he's never been anything close to an optimist and he really doesn't believe it even if it sounds like she does. And of course with that first touch he leans right into it, tilts his head and almost slumps into it, eyes carefully watching her as she speaks. She seems so sure, and he definitely isn't - the mask itself might not but a year of constant stress and loss and literally missing part of himself - he wonders if she even knows why he asked for the half-hour but as soon as he thinks it she says that and it's immediately shoved aside.]

Told ya not to say that.

[It's almost a whisper into her hand, but instead of casting his eyes down like the first time she offered whatever he needed he keeps them on her like he's sizing her up.]

[Ouch. It hurts that he remembers. Easier to tell herself that whole thing was all the mask giving her what she wanted so it could take something in return, because then there's no hope to cling to. Just a friend who needs her help. She tells herself it doesn't mean anything -- after all, doesn't she remember everything the demon did in her skin? -- and thumbs over his cheek, holds her head up, holds his gaze. Blinks fast, and at least the tears that she's pretending aren't forming don't actually fall.]

And I told you you don't get to tell me what to do.

[And that includes believing in him with everything she's got.]

[Oh, fuck, at this point he knows what that blinking means because he's seen it on her before. It's. Really, really difficult not to reach up to grab her hand, or turn in to kiss it, or pull her close but he can't decide if that'll make her feel worse or better, and he doesn't want to ask because that means acknowledging it.]

Mm, yeah.

[And then she kissed him and he never got around to explaining. His eyes go down to her mouth, there's a hard swallow, his eyes go back up to meet hers.]

Always been too greedy, though.

[Things, people, money, whatever he can get. It's her third warning and part of him doesn't even want to give her that, but it's easy to ignore when she's right here looking like she's about to cry on him.]

[She sees his eyes drop to her mouth, sees that swallow, and wets her lips without thinking. It would be easy just to lean in, close that distance between them and kiss him. He'd let her, she's sure. Maybe they could even get back to what she'd thought this was going to be after she got back, and she could justify that to herself. Dress it up as giving him comfort in a difficult time. Maybe, just maybe, she could live with herself if he came out of this and it turned out that wasn't what he'd wanted at all.

And maybe if she did all of that she'd be a worse person than he ever was, mask or none.]

Like this? Has it been like this before?

Not with - things.

[Or at least never to the point where he physically couldn't let something go. People though, it used to be even worse. Or maybe it's just because they were countries and it was possible to have them be yours and was possible to cling and claw and fight to keep them. But he's not exactly sure how to explain it in a way that. Well. Doesn't make him look awful, but that's kind of the point he's trying to make, huh. Even so he picks the example that doesn't involve a colony, though it's the most cringeworthy one.]

I, uh. Took nine years to acknowledge that Bel wasn't - that she broke away.

[Yeahhhh. Still leaning into her hand, but definitely not meeting her eyes anymore.]

[She. Doesn't know how to take that. It sounds scary as hell, but nine years is pretty close on half her life. Is it different for nations? Does that amount of time seem shorter when there's so much more? So for a long beat she just watches him, keeps her hand soft against his face.]

I can't pretend I know what that means. I don't get a lot of that stuff, I just don't have anything to compare it to. But I do for you. And I know that things only changed between us after the masks arrived.

[A pause, there, and a tense little inhale because this exactly what she's been trying to avoid having to say.]

I'm not scared you won't let me go. I'm scared you'll get better and wonder why the hell you let me in in the first place.

text; backdated to the 25th and in the interests of not spamming you these are individual texts okay

Ffffff still sorry about that one time.

No it was charming and hilarious

Not Organized my inner Ned hates it.

take a pill, Ned, because I'm about to get all text-to-action up in here

it's about to get gross up in here

yay gross :3

no like gross

oh that WAS gross

SINCE WHEN DO I JOKE ABOUT THESE THINGS

NEVER I GUESS lesson learned

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