donkeyballs | Reverie: IC Inbox

[ The piercing fondness was so deep it hurt and he just smiled at her for a second before his hand reached out, entirely of its own volition, to find hers and give it a warm squeeze. ]

... Thanks, Gunny. Sorry that I'm a bit of an idjit.

[She tangles her fingers with his automatically, squeezing back. Maybe it's just that her emotions are all over the place, but there's a pleasant fluttering in her chest that she can't place. She's not sure how well she'd be handling all this without him here.]

It's okay. I'll put it down to sleep deprivation and shitty music this time.

[ The warmth spread through him instantly, and he suddenly had to start reminding himself that no matter what it felt like, the affection wasn't intended the way that his body so clearly wanted to read it. What he so clearly wanted it to be. She'd somehow ended up as his anchor, while he was here. His best and closest friend, sliding into his little family with an ease that leaned upon the fated. Which, he supposed, it kind of was - if they were friends in a future he didn't even remember. It was something literally fated, for him.

But they were friends. That was the important part. Good friends, best friends, and he knew he'd do anything in the universe for her, even just on that level. Had a pretty good feeling she'd do the same. But that was the level it was on. She'd never given any hint or indication that she felt anything more than that. No, more wasn't the word. Because even on the platonic level, she was still somehow closer to him than Talissa had ever been. Understood him better. Clicked better. Her friendship meant so much more to him than even his marriage had. The other twisted feelings he felt? They weren't more. They were just in a different direction.

The last thing in the world he wanted was to let anything ruin this.

Even his own feelings.

His smile turned a little forced, and he gave her hand another squeeze, and then let go, sliding his palm onto his knee instead and gripping it as if forcing his hands to behave. ]

It really is just about drivin' me mad. But still. I appreciate it. You holdin' up alright, otherwise?

[He pulls away, and she's surprised when she has to keep herself from reaching for his hand again. She's not touchy-feely, as a rule, but Alex upends all that. She draws more comfort and stability from being near him than she does from anyone else, even anyone back home, and she wonder when that happened. It's like it snuck up on her.

She shifts a bit, keeping her hand planted firmly on the floor between them.]

Spacing myself is sounding like a better and better bet, and if I hear that 'bye bye bye' song again, I might just do it.

[ He gives a soft snort, trying not to think about how her hand is still there where he left it, as his fingers curl into his jumpsuit on his knees. ]

If it's all the same, I'd really rather you didn't. [ He turned his head and offered a smile that was far too fond, despite himself. ] What am I 'sposed to do, if you go and do that?

[She grins back, giving him a noncommittal shrug.]

Find another marine to hang out with.

Gunny, there ain't another marine in this universe or any other like you.

[ He tried to make it sound like a joke, but it wasn't. His hand fidgetted in his jumpsuit again and then he gave up, unable to help it, as he reached out and laced their fingers together again. ]

So in the interests of keepin' me flyin', you're just gonna have to stick around.

[That gets her smile to soften, and taking his hand again is as easy as breathing. She has no idea how long it's been since she's slept, but just talking to him is making her feel content in a way no one else has managed.]

You'd be a hell of a pilot to lose. Guess you're stuck with me.

[ This is the part where you kiss her, his brain says, the voice absolutely out of nowhere. Well. Mostly out of no where. But it hadn't quite ever been so clear before. It's a hundred thousand times more clearer than anything else has been, the last few days - like the toll of a bell in the early morning - and it trips him up. He smiles at her, and there's a half second where he nearly leans in, before he forces himself to grind to a halt and turn his gaze back out to the stars.

He's in over his head and his heart won't stop racing and he needs to stop because he can't deal with the idea of losing her over this. But he doesn't pull his hand away again. (He can't.) He just squeezes it. ]

What a cryin' shame. [ He says instead, clearly joking, as his eyes track the unfamiliar constellations. As he squeezes her hand, and doesn't kiss her, despite every atom in his body screaming at him to do it. ]

[There's a slight hesitation in their conversation that she doesn't expect, and for an irrational second, she thinks he might kiss her. Then the moment passes, and it takes her a second longer to realize she's leaned in instinctively, and when he turns away she swallows, letting out a breath.

Jesus Christ. Sleep deprivation. That's all it is. She needs to get her shit together.]

...Hey, we need someone to fly us off this tub.

There's at least one other pilot on this bucket. [ He pointed out, trying to keep his focus on the conversation and not on the internal battle he was having with himself. It wasn't even a battle he wanted to fight, but where he usually could have just dismissed it, he was finding it impossible to do that, right now. Was that a symptom of sleep deprivation?

The music changed, and for the first time he actually heard the lyrics and wondered if the Station was intentionally taunting him. ]

But I'll get us off here, somehow, don't you worry. We'll find a way.

[Bobbie hums quietly in response, shoulder still pressed into his. She suddenly finds herself trying very, very hard to focus on their conversation.]

I wouldn't trust anyone else to do it.

[ He couldn't focus on the conversation either, swallowing, as one star in particular suddenly got a lot more interesting than it was before. In fact, he didn't even reply, letting the moment lapse into a companionable - if weighted - silence.

Not that anything in his head was quiet. Not that even his pulse was quiet. He swore he could hear it, rushing through his ears. But he didn't say anything.

He just kept his gaze fixated on that far, unnamed star, and held her hand.

It could have been simple, like that. It should have been. And if he'd been able to keep still, it would have been. But he couldn't, and after a few seconds he shifted - his grip in hers sliding just a little bit, so that he could brush his thumb, slowly but deliberately, over the back of her hand. It was too slow to be idle, to deliberate to be thoughtless.

It was a substitute, for the kiss he wanted and knew he couldn't take. A line past platonic that was easily deniable.

Or would have felt more deniable, if he wasn't hyper aware of the texture of her skin beneath his thumb. ]

[They lapse into silence, and Bobbie tries to get her thoughts under control. It was just instinct. A misreading of the situation, because her emotions are all over the place and she's absolutely exhausted. Hell, she's surprised she's not hallucinating. Still, she's suddenly hyperaware of their proximity, of her hand in his and their shoulders pressed together.

Bobbie closes her eyes, letting her head tip back against the wall behind them, at least until his thumb slides over the back of her hand. It doesn't feel like an idle movement, and she opens her eyes again, trying to read his expression. Maybe she's not misreading this, but that doesn't make her feel any less crazy.]

[ His gaze is still fixed on that star, even if he can feel her eyes on him. He keeps stroking the back of her hand, trying to keep his expression neutral. He wasn't very good at it. He kept holding his breath too long, the nervous energy readable. But the slow caress of his thumb kept its steady pace.

After a moment, his head turned, just a fraction, just enough so that his eyes cloud slide to hers and try to read them.

Just enough to torture himself with. ]

[God damn it, Alex. Bobbie is very still, fingers still laced with his, suddenly very aware of how close he is. This is a terrible idea. This is a terrible idea, but her heart is beating a staccato against her ribs, and she can't find it in her to pull back. What the hell are they doing?]

[ He couldn't help it. Like being pulled into a gravity well he leaned in, drawn to her in a way he couldn't describe or qualify. He drew short, though, the intent painfully clear and yet not followed through. He hovered, maybe an inch from her nose - her breath on his lips. His heart was hammering so hard he could barely even make out the music, despite the fact that it was blaring at them.

He hovered, like a coward, and like a coward he turned his head back out to the find that point of light he'd already been fixated on. ]

[He nearly closes the distance, and even though the logical part of her is still arguing that they shouldn't, that there are a million reasons why she should pull back, she doesn't. Before she can think better of it, her eyes close, her grip on his hand tightening, and then... nothing. When she opens her eyes again, he's looking away. She tells herself it's a relief, but it's not. She's surprised by how... disappointed she is. Bobbie lets out a shaky breath, trying to get herself together, her chest tight. They're both losing their damn minds, but she forces herself to speak up anyway. Her voice sounds surprisingly hesitant.]

...Alex.

[ It feels like his heart is in his throat, his heartbeat far too fast and irregular. He's trying to get himself to calm down, but his heart keeps acting like he's being stalked by a tiger, even though he's never even seen a damn tiger. Just terrified and hopped up on adrenaline at the same time.

She speaks, and his chest tightens like someone pulled a cord and stolen his breath away. He couldn't quite decide what that tone was - whether it was reproach or disappointment or confusion. Whatever it was, it was obvious what it was in reaction to. That she could tell what he was doing - or not doing.

He swallowed, trying to blink back the incredibly tight twist in his chest, but it wouldn't go away. He let out a slow, shakey breath as he tried to calm himself, but it didn't work. He was all keyed up, his spring wound good and tight and not releasing. ]

Sorry, Gunny. [ It was almost a whisper, a low rumble barely audible over the music. His hand still in hers, he pulled it towards him, closing his eyes as he pressed a warm kiss to her knuckles, his beard scratching her skin. It didn't release any of that built tension in him, it only made him yearn for more, and when he took her hand away again he didn't settle it back on the floor between them. Instead he gently rested their intwined hands on his knees, and squeezed them tightly. ]

[Her breathing catches, her heart skipping a beat, and she squeezes back just as tightly, trying to ground herself and failing. Before she can think better of it, she leans forward, resting her forehead against his, telling herself that maybe if she gets most of the way there, she'll realize this is just a product of stress and heightened feelings and that will be that. It doesn't work—she's shocked by how desperately she wants to kiss him, by how much worse the closeness makes it. Her emotions are all tangled up, and she doesn't know how to unravel them.

Bobbie realizes all at once that she hasn't been letting herself consider this, not even the distant possibility of it. Now that she is, it feels impossible to pull back, and that voice in the back of her head telling her to cut it the hell out is getting easier and easier to ignore. Closing that last inch is as easy as breathing, and before she can stop herself, she kisses him, soft and uncertain.]

[ She leans in, their foreheads touching, and it's an exquisite form of torture, holding himself back. Because it doesn't matter how much he wants it - how much his body is screaming at him that he needs it - he couldn't do that to Gunny. No matter how much he wanted it, it didn't give him any right to--

Then her lips touch his with a softness he would have thought impossible, from her. Despite everything, it hits him like a comet out of nowhere, and he freezes, not actually able to process the step she took while he was arguing with himself. It took a second for his heart to restart, and then that coiled taut energy in his spine suddenly released, a wave of utter relief washing over him. It was just long enough that maybe she started pulling back, before he pressed back into the kiss, eyes sliding shut as he let himself have this, even if just for a moment. Even if just long enough for her to come to her senses. He raised his free hand, fingers resting on her chin with a feather light touch as his lips parted against hers. ]

[He kisses her back and the tension drains from her as her mind goes blissfully blank, utterly unconcerned with anything but his lips on hers and his fingers against her skin. It feels... right. It feels perfect, and the need to be closer to him is so sudden and overwhelming that it blindsides her. Alex is her best friend, the only person on this station she allows herself to be fully open and vulnerable with, and maybe this is just an extension of that. Maybe the only reason she's surprised by it now is because she hasn't let herself think of it as a possibility, and if she ignores the myriad reasons why it isn't the best idea for a little bit longer, that's okay, isn't it? She just focuses on the way his lips part against hers instead, almost an invitation, and she deepens the kiss, slow and gentle.]

[ He can't help the low sound in the back of his throat, the anxiety that had infused him shifting into something warmer, and for the first time in days he barely even registers the music. Barely notices how tired he is. He hadn't actually allowed himself to consider this a real possibility - barely even allowed it to himself as a fantasy - and yet she's kissing him and it feels so perfect that it aches.

And for a moment, for the briefest moment, he thinks maybe he had it wrong. That this whole time he's been killing himself wanting someone that didn't want him, it had been something far closer to mutual all along. That maybe he'd just been an idiot, and refused to acknowledge what was in front of him.

One hand is still entwined tightly with hers, and he squeezes it as she deepens the kiss, as he responds in kind, melting into it as his hand gently cups her face, gently pulling her closer.

[Her heart is racing, and for that briefest flicker, the rest of the station doesn't matter. Nothing matter except this, the way he's pulling her closer, and her fingers tangle into the fabric over his shoulder. It's dizzying, and she thinks maybe she could just stay here like this forever, their fingers tangled together and his lips on hers.

She breaks the kiss, and it's only supposed to be for an instant, because she's struggling to catch her breath. Then reality hits again, and she remembers that ring that was on his finger just a month ago. He's married, and whatever the status of that relationship, whether they ever get home or not, whether he's pining for Talissa or just after some imaginary ideal of her, he's still torn up about it. In fact, she's not entirely sure this kiss is about her at all—it might be about Talissa. It probably is about Talissa.

Fuck, she's so stupid.

Her hand is still gripping his jumpsuit, and she's torn between pulling him close again and pushing him away. She does neither. In fact, she doesn't fully break contact with him at all. Her forehead is still brushing against his, their hands still tangled together, and she finds that she can't bring herself to pull away. She can't just keep kissing him like none of it matters, either. She might be an idiot, but she's not that much of an idiot. So, she clears her throat, trying to push down a new wave of disappointment, already mingling with dread.]

Alex.

[It doesn't really matter. Her voice is still trembling and vulnerable in a way she didn't expect. God damn it. She pushes ahead anyway.]

Why are you kissing me?

[It's a ridiculous question, but her thoughts are racing so much that it's the only one she can manage.]

[ He takes the few seconds to breathe, a slow, soft smile pulling at his lips, as he misunderstands the pause. He feels like everything is going to be okay, somehow, in complete and utter contrast to how he felt a half hour ago, and he wonders vaguely if he'll have to kiss Kovacs as a thank you--

And then she says his name, and something in him cracks. His smile falters and dies. Because that wasn't a good sound. That was not a content 'Alex', that was a 'what are you doing, Alex'.

The next words out of her mouth confirm it, and the anxiety grips back into his chest almost immediately. ]

I--

[ He's desperately trying to think back. She'd kissed him, hadn't she? Or had he just done it and convinced himself that she'd initiated...? ]

- - I thought -

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