this seems pretty insane already, but honestly — it's been a while. and she's offering, so. there's no problem, right?
he could worry about the privacy situation when he gets there. ]
i'll be there
[ because he's already scrambling on his feet, almost tripping on the laces of his boots before he's forced to bend down and tie them swiftly, breaking into a speedy walk again.
except her name isn't listed on the room's occupants on the screen beside the door. so he checks the room on the opposite side — nothing. ]
[ ohhhh my god. her head thunks back against the wall over her bed, eyes rolling back until they close. he's got to be drunk already. there's no way he's gotten lost. ]
it's the same one it's always been
or do you need me to come find you and hold your hand?
[ he's right down the hall from her — or he's supposed to be — so when she peeks out of her room and doesn't see hide nor hair of him, she frowns in confusion. ]
[ leave it to 10k to be the ultimate lady boner killer. what else is new?
he's pretty sure that's not the number of his room. which makes him wonder if she picked it up wrong somewhere.
... or if this is even meant for him?
don't panic. ]
i'll just go over there ok
[ because that's probably easier than running around in circles. he's pretty sure he could find his way there, anyway, even if he comes to realize that those sets of numbers are meant for the private rooms. huh.
when he sees her standing there, he already feels awkward where he stands, squeezing his lips tight together before he lifts a hand for a slight wave. very smooth. ] Uh — hi.
[ and by the time he rounds the corner of the ship to the corridor that hosts her living quarters, wynonna's... well, she's leaning against the open doorframe of her room, but it's absolutely obvious — although not from her side of things — that she has no idea who her messages have been going to.
her gaze slides over him — obviously, she remembers his face, remembers their chance meeting on the beach, all of it — but with someone else currently in mind she figures he's just passing down the hallway and happens to be heading in her direction. ]
Hi. [ her smile is closed, polite, not expectant in any way; she uncrosses her arms to hook her thumbs through her beltloops as he nears her. ]
[ there's recognition, he thinks, when she sees him, but the casual look in her eye doesn't seem as eager as the initial message he'd received from her earlier. he half-expects some comment about the rooms, along with all the mistakes in locating them, but instead he gets an awkward silence that follows the initial greeting, considering he's not exactly the best at steering a conversation. ]
So, you ... called me here ... right?
[ because he's gradually beginning to think that maybe she very much didn't, and his eyes only widen gradually at the fact. ]
[ realization dawns right in that moment and while she can't exactly pull up their text exchanges without it being obvious that that's what she's doing, she wonders how she could've gotten it so very wrong. honestly, she's not even drunk enough to blame it on that.
so she does what any sane, logical person would do: she decides to lean into her mistake one hundred and ten percent. ]
Nnnnyes. Yep. I did... do that.
[ she nods slowly, up and down, rolling her shoulders forward as she pushes herself away from the doorframe and lifts her chin in order to keep him in her line of sight. ] You and me. Right here, right now. For... the thing I said.
[ either, she's lying, or ... she's about the same level of smooth as he is. which isn't much at all. honestly, the result leaves him unsure if he should be all the more embarrassed by the way things have weirdly turned out or relieved that she's stumbling with this as much as he is.
biting the inside of his lip, his smile stretches, definitely steering towards flustered. ]
You sure? [ he doesn't believe her, but it doesn't stop him from chuckling, even if it's with a defeated sigh. ] Because you look like someone who got something she didn't order.
[ her smooth moments are, like her bad hair days, few and far in between. she can put on a good facade, fake it 'til she makes it, but the truth is she's more likely to be inwardly flailing than not.
she can't tell if she's relieved that he's not immediately calling her out on not owning up to her mistake — well, not directly, that is. but that isn't going to stop her from refusing to concede defeat in the situation, admit that she'd meant to summon someone else. (never mind that he's not on board the ship now anyway, but she won't learn that until later.) ]
What? No, that's — that's silly. [ she's close enough to him now to reach out a hand, fingers lightly tapping on his chest through his shirt a few times before she finally gets her palm involved too and presses a more direct touch there, pursing her lips together in an attempt at an appreciative expression. ] Ooh. Solid.
[ he opens his mouth, not quite getting words out as he debates in his head whether he should just admit defeat on that, that it's totally fine that she got him mixed up with somebody else and he's not at all what she's looking for.
he's not even hurt by it, really. after all, he knows where he's lacking.
but when he prepares to actually say something about that, he instantly gets distracted by the patting hand that soon lingers, suddenly speechless at the quite literal groping gesture. ]
Oh, uh — really? Cause mostly they say I'm too soft — ah — [ back up. back up. he practically winces in his expression, shaking his head. ] I mean, my skin. Not that I'm too soft in — other places.
[ she can't help it; her mouth quirks upward at the edges over what's very clearly an unintentional entendre, but she watches with that same spark of amusement in her gaze as he immediately backpedals in an attempt to course-correct any misconceptions she might be having about where that softness exists. ]
Oh, yeah? Who's "they"?
[ because somehow she doesn't suspect it's a general, mysterious they but a more specific group of people — and while her hand only lingers on his chest for so long, it inevitably slips down the length of his arm for her to snake fingers around his wrist, giving it a quick tug. ]
You can, uh, tell me all about it. [ her head jerks backward, in the direction of the room she'd just stepped out from. ] In there.
[ girls, mostly. but it feels like he might be digging himself into yet another hole with that one, since bringing up the complaints of the girls he's been with (plural being two), probably isn't a great way to save this whole awkward experience either.
but whatever he's done, it hasn't seemed to be enough to make her drop out of this whole thing completely, since suddenly he feels the curve of her fingers slide down to his wrist, his eyes falling down to that point of contact for a moment before gazing back up at her. ]
Yeah? You, uh — [ he smiles again, a lopsided thing but more honest this time, with a soft shrug of his shoulder. ] You want me to?
[ she's mimicking him, but not making fun or giving him crap for being vague; honestly, she wasn't sure what kind of way she was feeling about this whole disasterfuck of a situation until he stumbled through accidentally referring to himself as soft and then, for some reason, that sort of unexpectedly did it for her. what can we say? maybe quietly self-deprecating is kind of a turn-on.
she gives him another tug, but it's a loose one, a casual circling of her fingertips around his wrist; she's not trying to yank him in with her and if he wants to take the out, she'll let him turn tail and leave. ]
Yeah. [ it's quieter, more vulnerable than she'd like it to be, and she doesn't think about the fact that her touching him might let her more-buried emotions bleed through the empathy bond; more than anything, she just doesn't want to be alone right now. ] So you comin' in or what?
[ he repeats it again, but this time it's almost with a bit more conviction, smile a little more prominent like he might laugh at it, since the way she picks on him isn't so mean-spirited. he tends to be a bit awkward, but she doesn't seem to be holding that against him too much.
and maybe it's the way she tries to convince him to come in, not forceful, but still honest. if she'd made a mistake with talking to him, she doesn't show it now, and it makes him believe she might actually mean it when she says she wants him to — no, he knows she means it. somehow.
usually, he doesn't mind being alone, but ... he wants that shared company, too, right now. ]
Okay. [ he answers back as quietly as she does, looking at her for a long beat, like he might catch something else in her eyes, but she speaks again and he laughs lightly again, with a nod, stepping into the directed room. ] Sure, right.
[ he might feel it, that flare of uncertainty that travels through the empathy bond — and it's even more obvious now that she's initiated that skin-to-skin contact with her fingers lightly circling his wrist, that self-consciousness that she tries to keep tightly buried beneath inappropriate humor.
because there's a pause between her posing the invite and him finally agreeing to it, and she doesn't know why but she feels relieved more than anything when he accepts it, her hand slipping away from him as they both step into the room and the door quietly slides shut behind them.
but once it's just the two of them, alone here together, not even the sound of anyone else in the distance or right down the hall outside the room, she starts to flounder, not sure what her next move should be; on a sudden impulse, she goes for the first thing that she can think of. ] You, uh — you want a drink, or anything?
[ god, it would be so much easier if they'd already done this once before and she could just throw herself at him. ]
[ he's not expert in this part, especially since it's not really a common occurrence at the end of the world, relationships sprung more from excess adrenaline and the knowledge that you probably won't survive tomorrow. both girls he slept with initiated things first, even more in sarge's case where she quite literally jumped in at the second coming of yet another apocalyptic event.
10k was trained on guns and fishing nets and footprint tracks; charming up a girl was never in his training.
being inside an enclosed space with wynonna doesn't make the experience any easier, suddenly at a loss of what to do with his hands when there's no weapon to clutch to, fingers rubbing back and forth into his palms. ]
Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, I hate for you to waste your liquor on me, but — [ it's a little bit of a joke, lips twisting into a lopsided smile. anything to ease the awkwardness a little. ]
Hey, it's only a waste if you're not gonna drink it.
[ everyone knows that, right? but it gives her something to do for them, and she crosses the room, almost-silent padding on bare feet over the floor until she reaches the small wardrobe where she's been keeping most of her things — including the bottle she keeps squirreled away for moments when she might need it.
moments like this one. ]
Don't have any glasses, sorry.
[ it's half-empty already, but maybe one or two sips will be all the liquid courage she needs (they need). she unscrews the top and takes a firm swig before passing it over to him, lips quirking in amusement. ]
[ hey, he's from the end of the world, so he knows a bit about not letting things go to waste, especially drink or food. he wasn't always the biggest alcoholic drinker (that was murphy) or even much for drug use (doc, of course), but even with the recreational stuff, sometimes you just had to take what you could get.
and with his experience in this ship, there was plenty to be offered, at least with the former.
though he gives a few glances around, his first time being in one of the private rooms considering his more crowded sleeping arrangement, it only takes his attention briefly before it falls back on her, gaze steady as she steps closer to him with bottle in hand. ]
Even if I was, I'd be okay with yours. [ almost instantly, he crinkles his nose with a smile, aware that he probably isn't being a smooth as he hopes to be, but at least he manages to grin at it before he takes the bottle, fingers gently grazing hers before he brings it to his mouth for a drink. the liquid burns a bit in his throat, but he manages it much better than he would have years ago, and when he tilts his head back down, he can feel the tickle of it on his lips, brushing his tongue lightly across it as his eyes meet hers. ]
[ she should probably figure out how much booze they actually have still stashed away sometime, right? because eventually, they might run out, or the dispenser might not be able to replicate anything that even comes halfway close to top-shelf quality. but she also knows she can't afford to be picky.
at least maybe the next planet they stop in could be host to all kinds of stuff she's never even put in her mouth before.
her brows lift and then slide towards each other, an amused smile quirking her lips as she tries to parse through how he meant it — and then figures, given the fact that they're standing in her damn bedroom, he probably only meant it one way.
which is why she doesn't hesitate after she notices that brief swipe of tongue, the silent seconds their gazes meet and hold, before snagging a grip in his shirt, using it to tug him down towards her as she rises up on tiptoe in the same movement, splitting that height difference between them seconds before her mouth presses to his. ]
[ he's never been good at the flirting part, mostly because he doesn't know too much about using his words to make it sound smooth; all he knows is how to say the honest truth, simple as it is, and hopefully that's enough to carry him on through a conversation.
it seems to do something because her eyes are locked on him now, something quiet in the stillness, his own breath held like he might be waiting for the next step, the next sign of what his next move should be. instead, she's the one who does it for them both when she grips at his shirt, and he inhales in the surprise, just before he feels the firm press of her mouth against his own.
he can taste remnants of the liquor there, unsure if it comes from one or both of them, but all he knows is that it paints their lips damp, allowing an easy slide of mouths that he leans down into. he's still got a bottle in one hand, clutching it by the neck; he doesn't know the room well enough to set it down blindly, and neither is he interested in separating his mouth from hers just yet, so he maintains that hold as his free fingers slide against her cheek, dragging back to brush into her hair, cupping her face gently. ]
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this seems pretty insane already, but honestly — it's been a while. and she's offering, so. there's no problem, right?
he could worry about the privacy situation when he gets there. ]
i'll be there
[ because he's already scrambling on his feet, almost tripping on the laces of his boots before he's forced to bend down and tie them swiftly, breaking into a speedy walk again.
except her name isn't listed on the room's occupants on the screen beside the door. so he checks the room on the opposite side — nothing. ]
i don't think i have the right room
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it's the same one it's always been
or do you need me to come find you and hold your hand?
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hold your hand — god, he feels like he's five again. why is he so bad at this? ]
you don't need to hold my hand
[ though, okay, he would kind of like that. ]
but yeah maybe you could come
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let's just say he's going to owe her. ]
fine
where are you, anyway?
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it's fine. probably. ]
in front of my room
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wait, where?
cause i'm not clocking you at all
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[ maybe they're both mixed up on these room assignments.
(and maybe mixed up on other things, but his mind isn't going there.) ]
what number are you in front of
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number 7?
same as always???
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he's pretty sure that's not the number of his room. which makes him wonder if she picked it up wrong somewhere.
... or if this is even meant for him?
don't panic. ]
i'll just go over there ok
[ because that's probably easier than running around in circles. he's pretty sure he could find his way there, anyway, even if he comes to realize that those sets of numbers are meant for the private rooms. huh.
when he sees her standing there, he already feels awkward where he stands, squeezing his lips tight together before he lifts a hand for a slight wave. very smooth. ] Uh — hi.
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her gaze slides over him — obviously, she remembers his face, remembers their chance meeting on the beach, all of it — but with someone else currently in mind she figures he's just passing down the hallway and happens to be heading in her direction. ]
Hi. [ her smile is closed, polite, not expectant in any way; she uncrosses her arms to hook her thumbs through her beltloops as he nears her. ]
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So, you ... called me here ... right?
[ because he's gradually beginning to think that maybe she very much didn't, and his eyes only widen gradually at the fact. ]
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so she does what any sane, logical person would do: she decides to lean into her mistake one hundred and ten percent. ]
Nnnnyes. Yep. I did... do that.
[ she nods slowly, up and down, rolling her shoulders forward as she pushes herself away from the doorframe and lifts her chin in order to keep him in her line of sight. ] You and me. Right here, right now. For... the thing I said.
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biting the inside of his lip, his smile stretches, definitely steering towards flustered. ]
You sure? [ he doesn't believe her, but it doesn't stop him from chuckling, even if it's with a defeated sigh. ] Because you look like someone who got something she didn't order.
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she can't tell if she's relieved that he's not immediately calling her out on not owning up to her mistake — well, not directly, that is. but that isn't going to stop her from refusing to concede defeat in the situation, admit that she'd meant to summon someone else. (never mind that he's not on board the ship now anyway, but she won't learn that until later.) ]
What? No, that's — that's silly. [ she's close enough to him now to reach out a hand, fingers lightly tapping on his chest through his shirt a few times before she finally gets her palm involved too and presses a more direct touch there, pursing her lips together in an attempt at an appreciative expression. ] Ooh. Solid.
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he's not even hurt by it, really. after all, he knows where he's lacking.
but when he prepares to actually say something about that, he instantly gets distracted by the patting hand that soon lingers, suddenly speechless at the quite literal groping gesture. ]
Oh, uh — really? Cause mostly they say I'm too soft — ah — [ back up. back up. he practically winces in his expression, shaking his head. ] I mean, my skin. Not that I'm too soft in — other places.
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[ she can't help it; her mouth quirks upward at the edges over what's very clearly an unintentional entendre, but she watches with that same spark of amusement in her gaze as he immediately backpedals in an attempt to course-correct any misconceptions she might be having about where that softness exists. ]
Oh, yeah? Who's "they"?
[ because somehow she doesn't suspect it's a general, mysterious they but a more specific group of people — and while her hand only lingers on his chest for so long, it inevitably slips down the length of his arm for her to snake fingers around his wrist, giving it a quick tug. ]
You can, uh, tell me all about it. [ her head jerks backward, in the direction of the room she'd just stepped out from. ] In there.
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[ girls, mostly. but it feels like he might be digging himself into yet another hole with that one, since bringing up the complaints of the girls he's been with (plural being two), probably isn't a great way to save this whole awkward experience either.
but whatever he's done, it hasn't seemed to be enough to make her drop out of this whole thing completely, since suddenly he feels the curve of her fingers slide down to his wrist, his eyes falling down to that point of contact for a moment before gazing back up at her. ]
Yeah? You, uh — [ he smiles again, a lopsided thing but more honest this time, with a soft shrug of his shoulder. ] You want me to?
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[ she's mimicking him, but not making fun or giving him crap for being vague; honestly, she wasn't sure what kind of way she was feeling about this whole disasterfuck of a situation until he stumbled through accidentally referring to himself as soft and then, for some reason, that sort of unexpectedly did it for her. what can we say? maybe quietly self-deprecating is kind of a turn-on.
she gives him another tug, but it's a loose one, a casual circling of her fingertips around his wrist; she's not trying to yank him in with her and if he wants to take the out, she'll let him turn tail and leave. ]
Yeah. [ it's quieter, more vulnerable than she'd like it to be, and she doesn't think about the fact that her touching him might let her more-buried emotions bleed through the empathy bond; more than anything, she just doesn't want to be alone right now. ] So you comin' in or what?
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[ he repeats it again, but this time it's almost with a bit more conviction, smile a little more prominent like he might laugh at it, since the way she picks on him isn't so mean-spirited. he tends to be a bit awkward, but she doesn't seem to be holding that against him too much.
and maybe it's the way she tries to convince him to come in, not forceful, but still honest. if she'd made a mistake with talking to him, she doesn't show it now, and it makes him believe she might actually mean it when she says she wants him to — no, he knows she means it. somehow.
usually, he doesn't mind being alone, but ... he wants that shared company, too, right now. ]
Okay. [ he answers back as quietly as she does, looking at her for a long beat, like he might catch something else in her eyes, but she speaks again and he laughs lightly again, with a nod, stepping into the directed room. ] Sure, right.
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because there's a pause between her posing the invite and him finally agreeing to it, and she doesn't know why but she feels relieved more than anything when he accepts it, her hand slipping away from him as they both step into the room and the door quietly slides shut behind them.
but once it's just the two of them, alone here together, not even the sound of anyone else in the distance or right down the hall outside the room, she starts to flounder, not sure what her next move should be; on a sudden impulse, she goes for the first thing that she can think of. ] You, uh — you want a drink, or anything?
[ god, it would be so much easier if they'd already done this once before and she could just throw herself at him. ]
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10k was trained on guns and fishing nets and footprint tracks; charming up a girl was never in his training.
being inside an enclosed space with wynonna doesn't make the experience any easier, suddenly at a loss of what to do with his hands when there's no weapon to clutch to, fingers rubbing back and forth into his palms. ]
Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, I hate for you to waste your liquor on me, but — [ it's a little bit of a joke, lips twisting into a lopsided smile. anything to ease the awkwardness a little. ]
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[ everyone knows that, right? but it gives her something to do for them, and she crosses the room, almost-silent padding on bare feet over the floor until she reaches the small wardrobe where she's been keeping most of her things — including the bottle she keeps squirreled away for moments when she might need it.
moments like this one. ]
Don't have any glasses, sorry.
[ it's half-empty already, but maybe one or two sips will be all the liquid courage she needs (they need). she unscrews the top and takes a firm swig before passing it over to him, lips quirking in amusement. ]
Unless you're suddenly worried about cooties.
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[ hey, he's from the end of the world, so he knows a bit about not letting things go to waste, especially drink or food. he wasn't always the biggest alcoholic drinker (that was murphy) or even much for drug use (doc, of course), but even with the recreational stuff, sometimes you just had to take what you could get.
and with his experience in this ship, there was plenty to be offered, at least with the former.
though he gives a few glances around, his first time being in one of the private rooms considering his more crowded sleeping arrangement, it only takes his attention briefly before it falls back on her, gaze steady as she steps closer to him with bottle in hand. ]
Even if I was, I'd be okay with yours. [ almost instantly, he crinkles his nose with a smile, aware that he probably isn't being a smooth as he hopes to be, but at least he manages to grin at it before he takes the bottle, fingers gently grazing hers before he brings it to his mouth for a drink. the liquid burns a bit in his throat, but he manages it much better than he would have years ago, and when he tilts his head back down, he can feel the tickle of it on his lips, brushing his tongue lightly across it as his eyes meet hers. ]
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[ she should probably figure out how much booze they actually have still stashed away sometime, right? because eventually, they might run out, or the dispenser might not be able to replicate anything that even comes halfway close to top-shelf quality. but she also knows she can't afford to be picky.
at least maybe the next planet they stop in could be host to all kinds of stuff she's never even put in her mouth before.
her brows lift and then slide towards each other, an amused smile quirking her lips as she tries to parse through how he meant it — and then figures, given the fact that they're standing in her damn bedroom, he probably only meant it one way.
which is why she doesn't hesitate after she notices that brief swipe of tongue, the silent seconds their gazes meet and hold, before snagging a grip in his shirt, using it to tug him down towards her as she rises up on tiptoe in the same movement, splitting that height difference between them seconds before her mouth presses to his. ]
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it seems to do something because her eyes are locked on him now, something quiet in the stillness, his own breath held like he might be waiting for the next step, the next sign of what his next move should be. instead, she's the one who does it for them both when she grips at his shirt, and he inhales in the surprise, just before he feels the firm press of her mouth against his own.
he can taste remnants of the liquor there, unsure if it comes from one or both of them, but all he knows is that it paints their lips damp, allowing an easy slide of mouths that he leans down into. he's still got a bottle in one hand, clutching it by the neck; he doesn't know the room well enough to set it down blindly, and neither is he interested in separating his mouth from hers just yet, so he maintains that hold as his free fingers slide against her cheek, dragging back to brush into her hair, cupping her face gently. ]
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slides back in 1000 years later
welcomes you back with weak wrinkly aged arms
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