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(no subject)
Oct. 14th, 2017 10:36 amSteve has been planning this for awhile. It's not so much that he hasn't had the time as he hasn't made the time. Between everything that's happened, Steve's felt a little bit like time has gotten away from him. But one thing he's managed to accomplish, with Vetra's help, especially, are the repairs on the Kodiak. It's finally flight-worthy again. It's hard to contain his excitement about it. He's taken it for a test flight around the countryside. It's gone off without a hitch. So now it's just a matter of bringing Agron on a little trip.
He loads up a classic picnic basket with wine and some sandwiches and finger foods, and a blanket for them to sit on once they reach the destination he has in mind.
Then it's just a matter of convincing Agron to come with him out to the countryside where the Kodiak is still safely nestled.
He loads up a classic picnic basket with wine and some sandwiches and finger foods, and a blanket for them to sit on once they reach the destination he has in mind.
Then it's just a matter of convincing Agron to come with him out to the countryside where the Kodiak is still safely nestled.
(no subject)
Sep. 18th, 2017 08:17 amSteve's never really thought about cooking classes. It isn't so much that he dislikes the idea as it is that it'd never occurred to him. He can cook a few things very well, and other things passably so. But it never hurts to know more, and especially with Agron's hands acting up at random, Steve wants to have some extra skills set aside.
It's on a whim that he texts Gabriel and invites him along to the first class. He sends him the address and time, and offers to pay whatever entrance fee there might be. It'll be fun! he concludes.
It's on a whim that he texts Gabriel and invites him along to the first class. He sends him the address and time, and offers to pay whatever entrance fee there might be. It'll be fun! he concludes.
(no subject)
Aug. 6th, 2017 09:12 amJul 23, 2017
He knows things are back to normal immediately, and a smile spreads across his face. He can't help it. He might have gotten to where he didn't hate the female form Darrow had given him, but it still hadn't been his form. This is his body, he can feel that instantly, and it's such a relief that he actually laughs a little to himself.
Agron is still asleep next to him, and Steve rolls onto him, squishing the flat, muscular plane of his chest against Agron's, and he rubs his stubbly jaw against Agron's cheek.
He knows things are back to normal immediately, and a smile spreads across his face. He can't help it. He might have gotten to where he didn't hate the female form Darrow had given him, but it still hadn't been his form. This is his body, he can feel that instantly, and it's such a relief that he actually laughs a little to himself.
Agron is still asleep next to him, and Steve rolls onto him, squishing the flat, muscular plane of his chest against Agron's, and he rubs his stubbly jaw against Agron's cheek.
(no subject)
Jul. 20th, 2017 07:04 pmSteve is pretty attuned with his body. It's hard not to be, when you train all the time. So he's very aware, as soon as his omni-tool's alarm goes off, that something is different. Through his sleepy haze as he first wakes, he frowns and tugs at the way his shirt has ridden up and twisted around him. He slings one leg out of bed and rolls onto his back, and.
There it is.
His dick isn't there.
He looks down at himself, and sees a swell of breasts interrupting his view. Sitting up suddenly sends a cascade of curls over his shoulders, and he can feel his breath coming faster as he takes in the changes.
The city got him. Darrow has turned him into a woman.
"A-Agron?" he says. His voice is different, and he doesn't like how the shake makes it sound even stranger.
There it is.
His dick isn't there.
He looks down at himself, and sees a swell of breasts interrupting his view. Sitting up suddenly sends a cascade of curls over his shoulders, and he can feel his breath coming faster as he takes in the changes.
The city got him. Darrow has turned him into a woman.
"A-Agron?" he says. His voice is different, and he doesn't like how the shake makes it sound even stranger.
(no subject)
May. 12th, 2017 03:50 pmApril 26, 2017
Steve's offered to keep an eye on Bull today. A lot of things stacked up in just the right way, and Steve's got the day off, and the house is plenty big for a kid to run around in. So Steve picks him up and lets him get comfortable. He has no idea what a child Qunari finds engaging or interesting, but Bull is still his friend, so he sits with him in the living room.
"How're you holding up, Big Guy?" he asks. He's seen Lito as a woman, but he's never seen anyone younger than they're supposed to be, before, and Bull is . . . really adorable, actually.
Steve's offered to keep an eye on Bull today. A lot of things stacked up in just the right way, and Steve's got the day off, and the house is plenty big for a kid to run around in. So Steve picks him up and lets him get comfortable. He has no idea what a child Qunari finds engaging or interesting, but Bull is still his friend, so he sits with him in the living room.
"How're you holding up, Big Guy?" he asks. He's seen Lito as a woman, but he's never seen anyone younger than they're supposed to be, before, and Bull is . . . really adorable, actually.
(no subject)
Apr. 29th, 2017 07:24 pmdated April 24, 2017
Steve is feeling loose and happy, happier than he has in a long, long time. He's got music playing, as he sorts through some of the books he's going to be putting out in the living room versus in the bedroom or, maybe, even in the bathroom. It's old stuff — older even for Darrow's standards, if not his own — with a jazzy, folksy feel that he finds he really likes.
He's got a half-full wine glass in one hand, and he's standing there holding one of the books, sort of swaying and rocking his hips as he listens to the raspy voice floating through the living room.
Their living room.
Steve is feeling loose and happy, happier than he has in a long, long time. He's got music playing, as he sorts through some of the books he's going to be putting out in the living room versus in the bedroom or, maybe, even in the bathroom. It's old stuff — older even for Darrow's standards, if not his own — with a jazzy, folksy feel that he finds he really likes.
He's got a half-full wine glass in one hand, and he's standing there holding one of the books, sort of swaying and rocking his hips as he listens to the raspy voice floating through the living room.
Their living room.
(no subject)
Apr. 20th, 2017 09:56 amSaturday, April 22, 2017
The text goes out to various different people several days in advance, with an invitation as well as a request: Agron and I are moving into our brand new house! If you help us with the move, you'll get free food and lots and lots of gratitude! There's a promise of burgers, hotdogs, turian-friendly food, gluten-free food, vegan-friendly food, anything that someone might want or need in order to survive. Beers and wines are also promised, and Steve sends the message to everyone he can think of.
They've got pretty much everything already boxed in their respective former apartments, and Steve's rented two moving trucks for the day, as well as the additional request from any of their friends with larger vehicles. The packing of the trucks takes maybe two trips each, and then it's a matter of unloading into the new house: a gray two-floor row home on Peachtree Street, between Hegal Place and Crescent Street. It's just a quick jaunt to the boardwalk and has a decent view, to boot.
Steve loves it.
They've got a cute little backyard, and in keeping with the promise for burgers and hotdogs, Steve has a three burner gas grill set up along with some patio furniture. Between their jobs and the city stipend, they'd saved enough to splurge on their little yard with a patio set to go with it, and some extra chairs for anyone that might show up. Steve had made sure they'd purchased this stuff preemptively, so they actually have somewhere to cook and sit.
Steve won't ask anyone to help them unpack, but it's nice to have friends there to help them carry the boxes in off the truck, put in their proper rooms for easier unpacking later on. Then, of course, is the actual furniture: sofa, armchair, coffee and end tables, mattress and box spring, bed frame, dressers, dining tables. Sure, they can do this all on their own, but where's the fun in that?
And it gives them all the opportunity to spend time with their friends, share food and drink, have some laughs. All in all, it's a really good day.
[ Tagger's choice! In this gathering-style get together, help Steve or Agron pack their respective apartments into a moving truck (or your pup's pickup truck!), or help them unload the moving trucks into their new place! Or have your pup hanging out at the grill (manning, or watching the manner) after all the moving is finished. Tag each other, tag us, tag around, and most importantly, have fun! If you know either Steve or Agron, feel free to assume your pup got a text, or be one of their friends who heard about it and want to help/mooch off free food. Timed for all day and into the evening Saturday. ]
The text goes out to various different people several days in advance, with an invitation as well as a request: Agron and I are moving into our brand new house! If you help us with the move, you'll get free food and lots and lots of gratitude! There's a promise of burgers, hotdogs, turian-friendly food, gluten-free food, vegan-friendly food, anything that someone might want or need in order to survive. Beers and wines are also promised, and Steve sends the message to everyone he can think of.
They've got pretty much everything already boxed in their respective former apartments, and Steve's rented two moving trucks for the day, as well as the additional request from any of their friends with larger vehicles. The packing of the trucks takes maybe two trips each, and then it's a matter of unloading into the new house: a gray two-floor row home on Peachtree Street, between Hegal Place and Crescent Street. It's just a quick jaunt to the boardwalk and has a decent view, to boot.
Steve loves it.
They've got a cute little backyard, and in keeping with the promise for burgers and hotdogs, Steve has a three burner gas grill set up along with some patio furniture. Between their jobs and the city stipend, they'd saved enough to splurge on their little yard with a patio set to go with it, and some extra chairs for anyone that might show up. Steve had made sure they'd purchased this stuff preemptively, so they actually have somewhere to cook and sit.
Steve won't ask anyone to help them unpack, but it's nice to have friends there to help them carry the boxes in off the truck, put in their proper rooms for easier unpacking later on. Then, of course, is the actual furniture: sofa, armchair, coffee and end tables, mattress and box spring, bed frame, dressers, dining tables. Sure, they can do this all on their own, but where's the fun in that?
And it gives them all the opportunity to spend time with their friends, share food and drink, have some laughs. All in all, it's a really good day.
[ Tagger's choice! In this gathering-style get together, help Steve or Agron pack their respective apartments into a moving truck (or your pup's pickup truck!), or help them unload the moving trucks into their new place! Or have your pup hanging out at the grill (manning, or watching the manner) after all the moving is finished. Tag each other, tag us, tag around, and most importantly, have fun! If you know either Steve or Agron, feel free to assume your pup got a text, or be one of their friends who heard about it and want to help/mooch off free food. Timed for all day and into the evening Saturday. ]
(no subject)
Apr. 16th, 2017 08:45 pmSteve's sitting with Vetra in her apartment. They've added some decor, something to make it a little more her, and stocking up on dextro groceries has helped her feel a little more comfortable being here. She's wearing a pair of human sweats with the ankles pulled up over her leg barbs, and the shirt that had come in her footlocker, and she's curled up in the armchair, bare feet dangling over the arm. They've both been drinking — her some of that Drossix Blue she'd bought, and Steve some dark, foamy, hopsy beer that smells gross to her — and the conversation alternates, between hilarious anecdotes about Steve's boyfriend or Vetra's sister, to more serious things, like the Pathfinder or coming here without a clue as to why or how.
"I'm from 2186," he explains. There's still a note of laughter in his tone after Vetra's told him about something Sid had done as a kid, but it's fading quickly. "The war was in full force, by then."
"What war?" she asks, looking over at him.
The way his head snaps up, Vetra thinks she just insulted his mother. But she holds his gaze steady, and he watches her, blue eyes searching for any sort of sick joke. Then he looks at his lap.
"When are you from, Vetra?" he asks.
"Depends on your perspective," she says. "We left the Milky Way in 2185 and slept for 600 years. It was 2818 when we all started waking up." That has Steve's full attention, and Vetra realizes that this is going to be a long, long conversation. So she pours herself another glass of Blue and settles back in her seat with a sigh.
And she tells him. She tells him about the Andromeda Initiative, and about leaving the Milky Way, the 600-year sleep. She tells him about the Nexus, and the Scourge, and the uprising. She tells him about the Golden Worlds and the Pathfinder. And he listens, hanging on every word. She could probably tell him that it was discovered humans evolved from varren and he'd believe her. But she keeps it serious. She tells him everything she knows, and then settles back in her seat and says, "Your turn. What war, Cortez?"
He takes a breath, then drains his beer and grabs another one. Vetra gives him time to let all of her information sink in, but soon starts to feel impatient. She sighs pointedly, and he nods.
"Sorry, I'm just . . . putting two and two together," he says. "Nobody really knew about the Reapers, I guess. Not publicly, anyway. Not on a broad scale." Between the Council refusing to believe Shepard until it was too late, and the population's willingness to overlook things that scared them, Steve can guess that nobody really knew anything about it. Including the people in the Andromeda Initiative.
He tells her about the arrival of the Reapers. He doesn't start with the beginning. There's no point in upsetting her with the finer details. It's done, for both of them, one way or the other. So he tells her about their arrival to the general public, when everything went to shit.
"I'd been hoping," he admits, "that you were from after me, but . . . in a way that would give me closure. That's selfish, I know. I just . . . I don't know anything. I don't know if Earth is still there. I don't know if any of my friends made it."
"You just wanted answers," she murmurs. "I get it. I'm . . . sorry I couldn't give them to you."
"That's not your responsibility," he assures. "I'll survive. I'm just glad to know that there's at least somebody who survived the Reapers." Survived, and escaped. That's important to Steve, even if his closest friends can't be counted among them. Maybe their family can be. Maybe their memories can still live on.
"I'm from 2186," he explains. There's still a note of laughter in his tone after Vetra's told him about something Sid had done as a kid, but it's fading quickly. "The war was in full force, by then."
"What war?" she asks, looking over at him.
The way his head snaps up, Vetra thinks she just insulted his mother. But she holds his gaze steady, and he watches her, blue eyes searching for any sort of sick joke. Then he looks at his lap.
"When are you from, Vetra?" he asks.
"Depends on your perspective," she says. "We left the Milky Way in 2185 and slept for 600 years. It was 2818 when we all started waking up." That has Steve's full attention, and Vetra realizes that this is going to be a long, long conversation. So she pours herself another glass of Blue and settles back in her seat with a sigh.
And she tells him. She tells him about the Andromeda Initiative, and about leaving the Milky Way, the 600-year sleep. She tells him about the Nexus, and the Scourge, and the uprising. She tells him about the Golden Worlds and the Pathfinder. And he listens, hanging on every word. She could probably tell him that it was discovered humans evolved from varren and he'd believe her. But she keeps it serious. She tells him everything she knows, and then settles back in her seat and says, "Your turn. What war, Cortez?"
He takes a breath, then drains his beer and grabs another one. Vetra gives him time to let all of her information sink in, but soon starts to feel impatient. She sighs pointedly, and he nods.
"Sorry, I'm just . . . putting two and two together," he says. "Nobody really knew about the Reapers, I guess. Not publicly, anyway. Not on a broad scale." Between the Council refusing to believe Shepard until it was too late, and the population's willingness to overlook things that scared them, Steve can guess that nobody really knew anything about it. Including the people in the Andromeda Initiative.
He tells her about the arrival of the Reapers. He doesn't start with the beginning. There's no point in upsetting her with the finer details. It's done, for both of them, one way or the other. So he tells her about their arrival to the general public, when everything went to shit.
"I'd been hoping," he admits, "that you were from after me, but . . . in a way that would give me closure. That's selfish, I know. I just . . . I don't know anything. I don't know if Earth is still there. I don't know if any of my friends made it."
"You just wanted answers," she murmurs. "I get it. I'm . . . sorry I couldn't give them to you."
"That's not your responsibility," he assures. "I'll survive. I'm just glad to know that there's at least somebody who survived the Reapers." Survived, and escaped. That's important to Steve, even if his closest friends can't be counted among them. Maybe their family can be. Maybe their memories can still live on.
(no subject)
Apr. 6th, 2017 02:07 pmSteve's alarm is in his omni-tool, so when it goes off, it's a gentle ping through his arm that he feels more than hears. He stirs when he feels it and opens his eyes. The orange interface declares 05:30 across the top of his forearm, and he taps it to cancel it. No matter how late he goes to sleep, he gets up at this time. It's a force of habit from his time in the Alliance, and it's one he won't break, just in case.
In case of what, he's not sure, but all the same.
He's still a bit sore from his sparring with Bull, so he's slow to move this morning. It doesn't help that Agron is warm and sleeping beside him. But before long, he forces himself up, carefully extricating himself.
In case of what, he's not sure, but all the same.
He's still a bit sore from his sparring with Bull, so he's slow to move this morning. It doesn't help that Agron is warm and sleeping beside him. But before long, he forces himself up, carefully extricating himself.
(no subject)
Apr. 3rd, 2017 04:39 pmSteve feels messed up, tired and shaken after the nightmare. It isn't how it happened: Shepard wasn't killed by a Banshee, Garrus didn't die, and neither did he. But it was real enough, used real enough memories, that even after talking it out — fucking it out — with Agron, even after trying to run it out during his morning run, he's still feeling it.
He shakes his arms out; he feels restless, too energized. Agron is at work, and he just wants to exhaust himself into a dreamless sleep. There's a quick flash of guilt then. It's not Agron's job to tire Steve out. He just needs . . . something.
He draws up his omni-tool and messages the only person that comes to mind.
Hate to do this, he sends to Bull. Could really use a sparring partner if you're free.
He shakes his arms out; he feels restless, too energized. Agron is at work, and he just wants to exhaust himself into a dreamless sleep. There's a quick flash of guilt then. It's not Agron's job to tire Steve out. He just needs . . . something.
He draws up his omni-tool and messages the only person that comes to mind.
Hate to do this, he sends to Bull. Could really use a sparring partner if you're free.
(no subject)
Apr. 3rd, 2017 09:19 amIt's not the first time he's had bad dreams about it. It's not going to be the last. Logically, Steve will recognize this later. He's got PTSD, he knows this. He pushes it back, plays it off, but it's always there, thrumming under his skin.
He's at Agron's, tonight, head pillowed on his chest, arm around his waist, legs tangled. It feels good, to be with him like this. It feels good that their relationship isn't just about the sex. Sleep came easy enough once they'd retired. Like most nightmares, it comes unexpectedly.
The city is dark. Smoking cars and Reaper beams are all the more apparent, stark against the black sky. Asphalt and concrete lies cracked and crumbled below them. The city is a ghost.
The systems warn him: a weapon has locked on. A Reaper's Hades cannon. He guides the blocky shuttle out of the way, but only at the last moment. Too close.
Steve frowns in his sleep, fingers curling against Agron's skin. He shifts closer, snugger against him.
Set them down, Shepard says. Her voice brooks no arguments, and his stomach turns, but he lowers the Kodiak. The too-small team disembarks, and Steve has to leave them there. He has to leave them in this warzone. Reaper forces are everywhere, swarming the ground and skies.
He makes a sound low in his chest and shudders once. The familiar dream twists, writhes into something new.
Flying is getting tougher. He can hear Shepard and her team through the comm channel. It doesn't sound good. They're overrun! He makes a pass over them. Garrus is on the ground, neck twisted at a grotesque angle. He has to draw the Reapers off of them!
The Banshee scream cuts through the night and curdles his blood. Through the Kodiak's cams, he can see her claws, too clearly, as they drive into Shepard's belly, right through her shields, right through her armor.
No! Commander!
"Nn," he mumbles. He rolls away from Agron, onto his back. Sweat beads on his skin. His heart is racing, now, breath coming faster.
His voice doesn't carry through the shuttle. He dips the Kodiak's nose towards the Banshee. If he can hit her, if he can get her off of Shepard, then maybe there's still a chance.
He hears the Harvester before he can react. He sees the ball of fire coming right at him through the windows. He can feel the heat of it, blistering his skin—
He sits up with a shout, instinctively slapping at himself to put out the flames he could swear are there.
He's at Agron's, tonight, head pillowed on his chest, arm around his waist, legs tangled. It feels good, to be with him like this. It feels good that their relationship isn't just about the sex. Sleep came easy enough once they'd retired. Like most nightmares, it comes unexpectedly.
The city is dark. Smoking cars and Reaper beams are all the more apparent, stark against the black sky. Asphalt and concrete lies cracked and crumbled below them. The city is a ghost.
The systems warn him: a weapon has locked on. A Reaper's Hades cannon. He guides the blocky shuttle out of the way, but only at the last moment. Too close.
Steve frowns in his sleep, fingers curling against Agron's skin. He shifts closer, snugger against him.
Set them down, Shepard says. Her voice brooks no arguments, and his stomach turns, but he lowers the Kodiak. The too-small team disembarks, and Steve has to leave them there. He has to leave them in this warzone. Reaper forces are everywhere, swarming the ground and skies.
He makes a sound low in his chest and shudders once. The familiar dream twists, writhes into something new.
Flying is getting tougher. He can hear Shepard and her team through the comm channel. It doesn't sound good. They're overrun! He makes a pass over them. Garrus is on the ground, neck twisted at a grotesque angle. He has to draw the Reapers off of them!
The Banshee scream cuts through the night and curdles his blood. Through the Kodiak's cams, he can see her claws, too clearly, as they drive into Shepard's belly, right through her shields, right through her armor.
No! Commander!
"Nn," he mumbles. He rolls away from Agron, onto his back. Sweat beads on his skin. His heart is racing, now, breath coming faster.
His voice doesn't carry through the shuttle. He dips the Kodiak's nose towards the Banshee. If he can hit her, if he can get her off of Shepard, then maybe there's still a chance.
He hears the Harvester before he can react. He sees the ball of fire coming right at him through the windows. He can feel the heat of it, blistering his skin—
He sits up with a shout, instinctively slapping at himself to put out the flames he could swear are there.
(no subject)
Apr. 1st, 2017 01:14 pmThe weather's finally held long enough for Steve to work on the Kodiak in earnest. He's been picking away at it since his arrival, but more and more, the weather hasn't allowed him to actually do much with it.
And now it's almost done. She's almost flight ready, and Steve can feel the itch to get into the air returning. Sure, the Kodiak isn't a Trident, not by a stretch, but it's flying. He raises the door so he can check out the inside. Some dust has settled on the surfaces in the time he's been gone, but it's nothing to clean that up. He checks the consoles, powers up the engine, and just . . . listens to the hum. It feels good, buzzing up through his boots and into his bones.
It's a feeling he hasn't realized he's missed.
And now it's almost done. She's almost flight ready, and Steve can feel the itch to get into the air returning. Sure, the Kodiak isn't a Trident, not by a stretch, but it's flying. He raises the door so he can check out the inside. Some dust has settled on the surfaces in the time he's been gone, but it's nothing to clean that up. He checks the consoles, powers up the engine, and just . . . listens to the hum. It feels good, buzzing up through his boots and into his bones.
It's a feeling he hasn't realized he's missed.
(no subject)
Feb. 22nd, 2017 05:57 pmFeb 14, 2017; later evening
Steve can't help but laugh a little as he walks with Agron back to his apartment. The party had been a wild success, he thinks, at least from his outsider's perspective. He's still feeling pleasant from the atmosphere, though he'd avoided the wine, and none of the cupid VIs had gotten him — but he'd seen people struck by petals and arrows alike, to differing effects.
He has his arm around Agron's waist, and he's glad the front of his uniform falls low enough, because Agron has been handsy for the last hour, and it's definitely having an effect on him. He's got his collar undone, revealing his left clavicle in an asymmetrical triangle. As they get to Steve's building, he finds his keys and gets them ready.
"How much did you have to drink?" he asks, more amused than anything. He's steadfastly ignoring that he'd seen Agron kiss another man, at least for now. He'll handle that later.
Steve can't help but laugh a little as he walks with Agron back to his apartment. The party had been a wild success, he thinks, at least from his outsider's perspective. He's still feeling pleasant from the atmosphere, though he'd avoided the wine, and none of the cupid VIs had gotten him — but he'd seen people struck by petals and arrows alike, to differing effects.
He has his arm around Agron's waist, and he's glad the front of his uniform falls low enough, because Agron has been handsy for the last hour, and it's definitely having an effect on him. He's got his collar undone, revealing his left clavicle in an asymmetrical triangle. As they get to Steve's building, he finds his keys and gets them ready.
"How much did you have to drink?" he asks, more amused than anything. He's steadfastly ignoring that he'd seen Agron kiss another man, at least for now. He'll handle that later.
(no subject)
Jan. 5th, 2017 11:40 amSteve has a little bit of a problem. He's kind of horny. He'd been seeing this guy, Evan, for about a week now, and it was good, it was nice.
Except that Evan didn't want to have sex.
Like, at all.
And for the most part, Steve is fine with that. It's Evan's choice, and if Steve wanted just sex, he's pretty sure he could find someone for that. Lito seems okay with casual fun, and Steve is sure he's not the only one. But now that Steve is in an actual relationship — he thinks, anyway — it feels wrong to seek outside attentions like that. It also feels wrong to want to.
So, after a morning jack that's less satisfying than he'd hoped, Steve showers and texts The Iron Bull. He needs to burn off some steam, and if he can't do it with sex, maybe Bull will show him a few pointers hand-to-hand. After the New Year's debacle, Steve is keenly aware that he needs them. It's been too long since he's had to actually fight anything, and James isn't around to keep him active.
Except that Evan didn't want to have sex.
Like, at all.
And for the most part, Steve is fine with that. It's Evan's choice, and if Steve wanted just sex, he's pretty sure he could find someone for that. Lito seems okay with casual fun, and Steve is sure he's not the only one. But now that Steve is in an actual relationship — he thinks, anyway — it feels wrong to seek outside attentions like that. It also feels wrong to want to.
So, after a morning jack that's less satisfying than he'd hoped, Steve showers and texts The Iron Bull. He needs to burn off some steam, and if he can't do it with sex, maybe Bull will show him a few pointers hand-to-hand. After the New Year's debacle, Steve is keenly aware that he needs them. It's been too long since he's had to actually fight anything, and James isn't around to keep him active.
Late night rendezvous
Dec. 28th, 2016 08:16 amDec 13, 2016
Steve leads Freddie into his apartment. His lips are already a little sore from kissing him, but he's not complaining. He'd spent the short wait for him after the bar closed leaning against the outside of the bar, vascillating between talking himself out of this and reassuring himself that this was okay.
And now they're here.
"It's, uh, not much," he says, a little sheepishly. He flicks a light on so they can at least see where they're going.
"I need to get new furniture, some personal touches, um." He trails off, looking suddenly lost. It's been a long time since he's done this. His encounter with Lito hadn't been punctuated by such a sad moment, and he finds himself feeling a bit insecure.
"D'you want a beer or anything?" he asks.
Steve leads Freddie into his apartment. His lips are already a little sore from kissing him, but he's not complaining. He'd spent the short wait for him after the bar closed leaning against the outside of the bar, vascillating between talking himself out of this and reassuring himself that this was okay.
And now they're here.
"It's, uh, not much," he says, a little sheepishly. He flicks a light on so they can at least see where they're going.
"I need to get new furniture, some personal touches, um." He trails off, looking suddenly lost. It's been a long time since he's done this. His encounter with Lito hadn't been punctuated by such a sad moment, and he finds himself feeling a bit insecure.
"D'you want a beer or anything?" he asks.
(no subject)
Nov. 28th, 2016 03:37 pmThe Kodiak is sitting where it's been sitting since Steve's arrival. He's been back a few times, but other than to work on it, he hasn't had any reason to swing by. He has no personal effects in it, and nothing indicates that anyone from home will show up in or near it. So he's done his best to work on it, but for the most part, it's an already sore memory.
He's here now, tinkering with the engine. It's chilly out; he's got a hoodie on, but under that he's wearing his work fatigues. It doesn't seem right to wear civilian clothes while working on non-civilian aircraft. He sighs in frustration as he smacks at the hull.
"Come on, Baby!" he growls. "Please, please, please just come on back for me."
He's here now, tinkering with the engine. It's chilly out; he's got a hoodie on, but under that he's wearing his work fatigues. It doesn't seem right to wear civilian clothes while working on non-civilian aircraft. He sighs in frustration as he smacks at the hull.
"Come on, Baby!" he growls. "Please, please, please just come on back for me."
