Cʜᴀʀʟᴇs 'C H U C K' Hᴀɴsᴇɴ (
suicidemission) wrote2013-12-06 01:32 am
Entry tags:
like a match to gasoline



i see through your clothes
your nerve damage shows
trying not to feel
anything that's realʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʟᴏsɪɴɢ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ



i see through your clothes
your nerve damage shows
trying not to feel
anything that's real
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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."
/rubs against
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.
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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."
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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.
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"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.
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"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."
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"Well, not that old." He admits, still smiling. "But don't tell him I said that."
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"I'm not tellin' him anything, mate, that's your funeral."
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"I appreciate that." He murmurs, but his focus isn't on their conversation anymore.
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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."
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
I need groceries but I don't want to move.
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."
Moving is overrated
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.
I have no food though..../sighs/
"Don't say things I don't mean." He repeats from a conversation that seems like half a lifetime ago when he'd had Chuck shirtless in his room. He smiles then, and punctuates his words with a another chaste press of his lips to Chuck's.
hmm that is a dilemma.....
"I know."
This time, when Raleigh leans in he doesn't shy away. Instead, he meets him in the middle, brushing their lips together carefully, gently. Raleigh keeps it sweetly chaste and Chuck slides the hand on his neck up and into his hair, fingers curling into blond strands to tug, wanting him closer, closer, closer.
Think I'll go at two maybe...when the lunch crowd is gone
He makes an encouraging noise when Chuck tugs on his hair, because it feels so good, and he's reminded of just how solid Chuck is across from him. He moved closer like Chuck seems to want, half into his lap, as he runs his free hand down Chuck's neck to rest on his chest.
This is a good plan
But then Raleigh makes that noise and Chuck just has to do it again, it's like Raleigh's asking him to. Their one set of hands is still joined and he pulls; Raleigh's already half in his lap and a push and tug and it's obvious that Chuck wants him fully there, straddling him against that couch. He deepens the kiss, aggressively and deliberately licking his way into Raleigh's mouth, lips sliding over lips, tongue insistently pressing in, wanting to taste him.
"C'mere," he growls against Raleigh's mouth, hold tightening.
=3
His mouth is open and welcome for Chuck's invasion. Raleigh's free hand slides around his ribs, fingers pressing into Chuck's back, between the dress shirt and the undershirt. He's half hard in his pants like he hasn't been in ages, and he knows Chuck can probably feel it. This isn't really the place, it's not the place at all especially when they still had to be able to walk out, but Raleigh couldn't bring himself to stop. Not with the way it feels like Chuck's trying to consume him.
"Chuck." It's the only thing he can say when they come up for air.
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Now that he's pinned down with Raleigh's weight on top of him, it's safer to let go of their hand hold, but he's eager for it again when Raleigh reaches back for it, and he threads their fingers, squeezing to remind himself it's real.
Chuck knows that Raleigh's getting caught up in his fire, flames threatening to engulf them both right here, in this dressing room and he should stop, they should stop. Mako's waiting, they're lingering and this is hardly the place to go any further but Chuck--
He's afraid. If they stop, if they let this moment go, Chuck doesn't know how long it'll take Raleigh to break down all of his walls again, or if they're permanently torn down or what.
He pants against Raleigh's lips when they break apart to breath, his hand slid up Raleigh's back that's now a little more accessable without Chuck's leather jacket in the way (nice, but Chuck was a little sorry to see it go).
"You sure?" He demands roughly, fingers clutching at the material of that sweater. "I'm a train wreck, Becket." He knows it. Everyone does. "Not -- it's not gonna be easy. I'm not gonna make it easy."
Chuck's volatile. His temperament is terrible. He's a wadded up ball of passion and anger.
"Tell me you're sure."
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"If you're a train wreck, I'm a jaeger wreck." Raleigh half laughs, but it's the sorry truth. Neither one of them is exactly in the best of mental health. "But I'm sure. Neither of us would be worth it, if it was easy. Not with everything we've seen and done."
He kisses Chuck quickly and squeezes their hands. "I'm sure. We're going to fuck it up a lot. Almost every day probably, because I'm not going to talk and you're going to yell, but we'll work on it and in between that...we'll be like this."
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Noooot sure where you want to go with this one next
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