suicidemission | like a match to gasoline

This is the calmest Chuck's...probably ever been. His fury has been tempered by Raleigh's presence and how nice it feels to have the warm weight of his body against him, the heavy feel of his head pressing against his thigh while he strokes blonde hair.

It's nice. It won't last, because Chuck's an asshole and an idiot and completely sure that he's not really good enough of a person to ever be with someone like Raleigh Becket, but for now he's enjoying it and allowing himself to breath and just...exist without having to be somewhere or think about a war that had seemed never ending.

The door flies open and startles him out of this moment of calm and his face automatically arranges itself into his scowl. Raleigh's sitting up and moving the moment that the door opens and so is Chuck, though he doesn't sit back down when he sees who it is.

"You."

He's advancing on her and while he isn't going to swing, he's going to say some very nice things and urge her to leave. Now.

"Haven't you don't enough goddamn damage for one day? Get out!"

Raleigh watches Chuck move towards the host of the show they'd walked out on and feels vaguely like he should do something to stop him. He would, if he thought Chuck was actually going to hurt her, but that wasn't something Chuck would do, Raleigh knew that without a doubt. He was hardwired to protect civilians. It didn't mean he had to be nice to them, of course, but Raleigh knew she was safe, even if she didn't know that.

It was even kind of fun watching Chuck yell at someone for him, rather than at him.

"Damage?!" Becky's practically shrieking at she shrinks back into the wall away from the mass of angry ranger in front of her. "What damage?!" The only damage she'd seen done was to her ratings.

Chuck cocks his head at her, face black with his wrath. She shrinks even further away from him, back hitting the wall and if she didn't know better, she'd say he really might swing on her.

Which...the fear factor is sort of what he's going for, even if he'd never lay hands on her. Ever.

"Lemme tell you something, princess. Y'can't even begin to know what us Rangers go through, yeah? So not sticking to the script and showing us pictures like that without fuckin' warning us is a goddamn shitty thing to do and y'know what? That's earned you a real special place on my shit list, so I suggest you get the fuck out right now, before I get angry."

Which he already is, actually.

"And if you don't, I will fuck up your career so bad you'll be scrubbing toilets at an extended stay motel by the time I'm bloody finished. Out. Now, before I call security."

Raleigh settles back onto the couch and watches with a fascinated incredulity at the way she doesn't understand. It's even nicer to watch Chuck bristle even further and fill her in. He was finally warming up, almost too warm to still be wearing both the thick long-sleeved layers, but he was really unwilling to give up the jacket before Chuck actually asked for it.

He perched his elbow on his knee and his head on his hand watching as Becky got smaller and smaller in direct correspondence to the way Chuck seemed to make himself bigger and bigger. At Chuck's threat to call security, she scurried right back out the door she'd came in through.

"See? Saving me again, and not one thing broken."

Chuck kicks the door shut after she leaves; she had nothing else to say to either of them and a quick exit seemed prudent. Chuck thinks she made the right decision though he's still really tempted to find a way to ruin her career but in the end, decides it's not really worth it and turns away, snarling as he flings himself back onto the couch.

They had one good moment - one they can't get back, one they might not ever get again because Chuck doesn't know how to do things right, and she ruined it.

Chuck's angry. He's frustrated, and his heart is twisting in uncomfortable ways at how cold and empty his lap feels now that Raleigh's awake and sitting upright.

"Bullshit," he mutters, dragging his hands down his face, heart still pounding from the brief adrenaline rush. "Fucking -- bullshit."

Raleigh is touched a little by the anger on his behalf even if he doesn't entirely understand where Chuck is pulling it from. Now that Becky is gone and Chuck seems like he's trying to calm down Raleigh feels like he's got a better chance of not accidentally redirecting Chuck's ire to himself.

Carefully, so Chuck knows what he's doing Raleigh presses his side against the Australian's and reaches out to wrap his fingers loosely around Chuck's wrist to tug it away from his face.

"It's okay. Well, not entirely, but you made a bad situation much better. Mali will be here soon and we will go back to the hotel and read or sleep or something."

"Did I?"

He barks a laugh, but he lets Raleigh touch him, lets that warm hand grip his wrist and pull on him. It's rare Chuck lets people touch him; he's not anywhere near as tactile as Raleigh can be and physical affection isn't something he's very familiar with or comfortable receiving.

That touch though, Raleigh's proximity - it's nice.

"Think I might've made it worse." Surely, Becky will be making some calls despite Chuck's threat but in the moment Chuck's having a hard time giving a fuck about anything beyond how warm Raleigh is pressed up against his side like that.

"Aren't y'gettin' hot?" He looks over at him, curious, eyes traveling from chin to chest to hips, taking in the form of Raleigh wrapped up in Chuck's bomber jacket. His cheeks flush a little, and he looks away.

"Looks good on you."

OOC: Chuck bb you are the cutest. Also I am at work again but I'm cleaning lockers so I might be able to reply some. I should be home before six.

Raleigh brings their arms down to rest on their legs and nods firmly at Chuck's question. "You made it better for me at least." At the rest of it, he shrugs.

"The world is on our side right now not hers."

He is admittedly getting too warm. His sweater was made for cold lodgings in Alaska and Chuck's jacket by itself is insulated against the wind and for heat. That's not even taking into account Chuck's body heat right up against his side, but Raleigh isn't sweating yet so he's not going to give up the jacket yet.

"A little warm." He makes no move to slide away or shrug off the jacket. Instead, his ears and neck start to turn pink at the way Chuck looks him over and compliments him. He speaks in an attempt to cover his embarrassment.

"We used to have matching ones. Tendo's got them in storage somewhere. I was thinking about giving Mako my old one, but I don't know what she would think about it." He doesn't say he'd be keeping Yancy's for himself, but it hangs there in the air. "My coat from Alaska isn't exactly photogenic. I've been hearing complaints."

"...Good."

So -- he's good for something, that helps. He's been fighting feelings of inadequacy ever since Pitfall succeeded. Now that the war was over, now that there was no use for Jaegers or their pilots, Chuck's kind of lost and these press tours buzzing and pressing and pushing him for answers about what he's going to do next have him tense and angry and volatile at all times.

"Maybe she'll can it, leave us the fuck alone," he mutters, letting Raleigh bring his hand down and away from his face entirely.

He glances back over at Raleigh in time to see the pink blush spread over his neck and cheeks and ears, and he almost smiles, but it fades immediately.

"That's 'cause it's bloody awful, Becket. Get rid of that flea ridden thing."

Wear Gipsy's. Wear a new one. Wear Chuck's. Anything but that awful thing from Alaska.

"If not, the PR people Mako and Herc hired will probably can it for her."

Raleigh's watching Chuck carefully. He thinks for just a moment that Chuck's face is going to clear and he's going to be graced with one of those rare Hansen smiles, but it doesn't happen. He half shrugs at the flea ridden comment. He doubted it actually had bugs, but the stains left by the everyday welding certainly made it look like it could be infested.

He sighs like he's making a large concession, but his lips are twisted half up. "I'll see where Tendo's got them, or if he can have them shipped."

It's a good sign that Raleigh's sort of almost smiling. Chuck thinks maybe it'd be even better if he was full on smiling (at Chuck in particular) but beggars can't be choosers. It's not like he's gifting Raleigh with an over abundance of his own.

He knocks his knee against Raleigh's, gesturing to his jacket that's got Raleigh looking all kinds of cozy and stupidly fucking adorable.

Chuck fluctuates a lot between wanting to punch that puppy face and wanting to kiss it.

"Please do. Least try and look as good as me."

Tiny, tiny little grin.

Raleigh snorts, knocking his knee back gently against Chuck's in return, and his eyes latch on to that minuscule grin knowing with a small catch of his heart that it's just for him. His smile grows and he shakes his head slightly.

"I don't know about that. I'm getting a bit past my prime, and looking like you's a high bar."

He knows he's handsome, but he also knows he's got the tale-tell signs of the way his life has marked him on his face and body, and that he's only just beginning to reach a healthy weight for his height. Chuck, on the other hand, is built like a brick house, and handsome to boot.

Just for him, only for him. Chuck doesn't smile for many people.

"Oh, God."

Chuck makes a rude gesture with his hand, then snorts.

"Don't start that shit again," he says absently, letting his hand drop and rest on Raleigh's knee. "That 'old shit'. Christ, you're starting to sound like Herc."

Raleigh laughs, it's not loud or full, but his eyes crinkle up in genuine amusement. He wants to cover Chuck's hand with his own, or twine their fingers together, but he's not quite sure how welcome that would be, so he just brushes his fingertips across the back of Chuck's hand instead.

"Well, not that old." He admits, still smiling. "But don't tell him I said that."

Raleigh's fingers graze his skin and it's like fire boiling in his blood; hot and dangerous and kind of terrifying. He fights the instinct to jerk away and instead forces himself to flip his hand, groping carefully for Raleigh's hand, testing the waters, seeing how it felt, how it would feel if he stopped pushing the older Ranger away for five minutes.

"I'm not tellin' him anything, mate, that's your funeral."

Edited 2013-12-09 02:25 (UTC)

Chuck's hand moves beneath his and Raleigh's afraid he's going to take it back , but instead he just turns his over and flexes, like he's expecting something. Raleigh leaps for the opportunity, doing what he'd originally desired and threading his slightly thinner fingers between Chuck's warm ones. His callouses from the Wall, and Chuck's, presumably from working on Striker slide together, and Raleigh thinks it's maybe the best thing he's felt with his body instead of his brain in six years.

"I appreciate that." He murmurs, but his focus isn't on their conversation anymore.

Chuck wets his lips and he's suddenly wracked with nervous, tense and conflicting emotions.

What are you doing, why're you opening yourself up like this - it's just a hand holding, Christ Hansen, get the fuck over yourself. It's not a big deal - YES it is a big deal you fucking moron, it's a big damn deal and you're letting him -- no, INVITING him to hold your hand like you're something, like you're actually worth his goddamn time, are you stupid or something? Pull back! Now!

He doesn't, though. Instead he sort of clutches Raleigh's hand like it's a lifeline and like he's proving to himself that it's okay, that maybe he is worth Raleigh's time, and that he might just be good enough for Raleigh to spend a second on. He grips desperately, holds on like he's clinging to him to keep from being jerked away, using Raleigh as a grounding agent, the one thing on the planet that's keeping him tethered safely down instead of floating off into nothingness.

"Sure," he says hoarsely, looking away, still clutching that hand as his eyes fix on something across the room, "anytime."

Raleigh can feel Chuck's body turn into a line of tension next to him, but he doesn't know what's caused it or how to fix it. Chuck's hold on him is too tight for what his intentions had been when he threaded their fingers, but Raleigh squeezes back in a tentative attempt as reassurance. He doesn't mind the way Chuck's focused on him, he just wished he could understand what was going through Chuck's brain a little better.

Gently, he presses his forehead to the side of Chuck's head when he turns it. It's not the most perfect positions, but he's also trying to give Chuck a chance to reciprocate or shrug him off if it's too much too soon. He wants, so fucking badly to not be alone for the rest of his life. To actually build something he can count on between the two of them. Whether that's friendship, or the relationship Raleigh wants from him, well he's leaving that up to Chuck.

He could do a lot better than Raleigh Becket after all.

If Chuck knew what Raleigh was thinking he'd punch him square in the solar plexus and stomp off, muttering something like goddamn idiot under his breath, but they're not Drift partners, Chuck's never been in Raleigh's head, he's got no idea what's running through the blonde pilots head right now.

Chuck knows he's gotta be projecting conflicting things though; he's holding Raleigh's hand but he's tense, straight backed, clutching Becket's hand so tightly he's probably cutting off the circulation, and he's moments away from untangling himself and getting him because this is a bad idea, he's an idiot, he's ridiculous--

and then Raleigh's forehead is pressing against Chuck's head and the tension bleeds from him like he's been gutted. It seeps out and into the couch, pooling underneath him and Chuck exhales, eyes closing, and he shifts, turns a little to lean into Raleigh, his hand relaxing in its grip.

"Raleigh--" he starts, hesitates, then thinks fuck it, and leans in, lips inches from his--

and then the door opens and Mako's there, hands on her hips and looking bemused, lips pressed together in a tight line.

Raleigh can't believe he did the right thing, but he must have because Chuck's whole body sags and melts into him. He even leans closer to Raleigh and says his name, correctly and like it means something. It's everything Raleigh wants, to be this close and having Chuck trust him.

Chuck leans in and Raleigh knows what's coming, he can feel Chuck's breath against his lips. He's waiting for it, because it has to be Chuck's choice, his decision to make, but then the door opens and Raleigh doesn't know if he's ever going to get this close again, so he takes the shot and presses their lips together before Chuck can turn his head and see Mako standing there.

Chuck hears the door open and his eyes open and he briefly panics, lips parting a little in surprise why hadn't he locked the damn door. Raleigh surprises him even more though and he finds Raleigh's mouth on his and it's like that fire blooms into a full blown flame inside of his soul and he squeaks in his shock, hand tightening on Raleigh's for lack of anything else to do.

Mako stares, dips her head and smiles quietly, then backs out and shuts the door softly behind her.

She can come back for them, in a moment. This seems important.

And it is -- Chuck's startled and dazed and he'd meant to lean in and kiss Raleigh, of course he did, but then the door and Raleigh'd finished what he started and now he's shifting, pushing himself up and sliding himself closer.

Raleigh can feel Mako retreat in the piece of brain devoted to her and he's definitely giving her that jacket, and something else she likes if he can find anything. His thoughts are thoroughly derailed though, by Chuck who despite his original surprise, was responding more enthusiastically than Raleigh had ever hoped to his gambit.

He reorients himself to face Chuck, one leg half up on the couch and he's resisting the urge to go too fast, press himself too close or climb into his lap. Instead, he hums into Chuck's mouth and brings the hand not twined with Chuck's up to his face, cupping the side of it and stroking his thumb along the strong line of his jaw.

It’s not how he expected to do this; kissing Raleigh in the dressing room of an TV station after they’d stomped out after an interview – after he’d saved Raleigh’s ass twice from that bitchy hostess. He’d sort of envisioned it going a lot differently but somehow, this is – it’s just fine. It’s just right. And maybe Chuck’s a little gun shy, a little afraid of the consequences and terrified to open himself up to Raleigh but the way Raleigh fits right there against him is so nice, so warm and good and right Chuck can’t find fault in any of his actions right now.

Instead, he does like Raleigh, sort of turns to him, leaning in, wanting more – but reluctant to let go of their twined hands. It kind of makes it awkward, but that hand is keeping Chuck grounded and he’s afraid if Raleigh lets go without pinning him down that he’ll flee out of sheer survival instincts - don’t get close, don’t let anyone in, cause you can die at any time and then where will you be? He’d seen glimpses, images in his Dad’s head of how it felt to lose his mother and that first Drift had been so fucking rough; he’d grieved for days after, for a mother, for a wife, for the person who’d kissed bruises better and for a woman he didn’t really know.

It’s not like that anymore, though – the war is over, the breach is closed, Pitfall a success. He doesn’t have to be afraid, but years of closing himself off and focusing on nothing but the war and his jaeger (Striker was home, Max was his friend and he’d needed nothing, no one else) has Chuck jaded.

He pulls in a ragged, shaking breath, breaking the kiss for a moment to let his forehead rest against Raleigh’s, eyes closing as he tries to reorient himself and bring himself back to focus. He opens his eyes, parts his lips to speak but instead just finds himself studying the lines of Raleigh’s face and lifting his free hand to cup the side of his neck. Raleigh’s touching him and he likes it, likes the contact, even if it’s such a strange thing to him. He’s not used to physical affection.

“You imagine it’d be like this, Rahleigh?”

He drawls Raleigh's name, rolling it around in his mouth, tasting the way it feels coupled with the lingering hint of the man himself on his tongue.

Feels pretty good.

Chuck pulls back and for a split second Raleigh thinks he did too much, went too far and ruined it, but then Chuck's forehead rests gently against his and they're catching their breaths together. Raleigh is---entirely happy for the moment and he had forgotten what that felt like. There isn't a bitter tinge of sadness or any regrets or unfulfilled wishes, just happiness pure and simple.

A hand, large, warm, and comfortably solid settles on the side of his neck and he loves that, the way Chuck is returning his affection tit for tat. Then Chuck says his name, drawing it out in a way that should have reminded him of teasing and the way they hurt each other, but instead this close, this content, it makes his shut his eyes and shiver just a bit even though he's definitely too hot in the coat and his sweater now. It takes him a second to answer the question even if he reopens his eyes right away.

"I didn't start imagining a future until I strapped in for Pitfall." He murmurs. "I've got bad timing, but this--even if I figured out I wanted it. I couldn't imagine it this great."

His fingers curl against the skin of Raleigh's neck; he can feel that Becket is too hot; he's probably dying under the weight of that stupid sweater he always wears and coupled with Chuck's jacket, he's probably starting to feel like he's in a sauna.

Chuck distinctly notes that Raleigh still has made no move to peel himself out of that jacket.

"Great," he repeats uncertainly, still close, still touching, lips still close enough to Raleigh's that he can feel faint puffs of air when he speaks.

"Y'really think so?"

That makes Chuck warm, and little strange, fluttering sensations pool in his belly and he's not sure what to make of that.

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/rubs against

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I need groceries but I don't want to move.

Moving is overrated