rackofbadcds | like lovers new to bodies first to touch you here

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engineer

like lovers new to bodies first to touch you here

Another Friday night, another day off coming up. Engineer was tired, but not so much that he wouldn't get in a few celebratory beers for a job well done. Not too much, though. He had avoided drinking more than the occasional beer since the whole "incident" with Spy a few weeks ago, much less thinking about it.

Until recently, though, when he caught himself imagining it again. The idea of "making it up" to him. Awkard as it was, it was the only real memory he had of his past times with the man that weren't blackout drunk. Maybe he was just feeling especially licentious, maybe it was the fact he knew he found Spy attractive at times, but it was hard not to find himself drifting to everything that was right about that morning and...

God dammit, nevermind. He was horny.

Point being, he didn't want to be too tired, sore, or inebriated by the time they got a chance alone. The poker game in their unofficial "lounge" room had finally died down for the night, and everyone had left except for Engineer and Spy. The other merc was quiet for a while, idly adjusting at his guitar. With other things on his mind now, though, he couldn't care less whether the damn thing was tuned.

"So. Good game."

Look, give him a sec. He doesn't normally initiate stuff like this out of the blue.

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Spy would've been content to let it be. After all, they parted on... somewhat awkward terms, and not even he would like to rub the salt into those wounds. God knows he's had his fair share of embarrassments.

But.. he'd had fun. Even before their last encounter had taken a momentarily pleasant turn and then dovetailed into 'never speak of this again' territory, it was nice to be able to talk to someone that casually.

...Not that he'd had any problems with the turn.

At some point during poker night, he'd thrown his jacket over the back of his chair and rolled up his sleeves. He blinks at Engineer as he stands, grabbing his jacket and slinging it over his shoulder.

"Our team needs to work on their tells. But yes, it was."

It's not like it ended on a horrible note. They swapped stories little and ended it on a maybe. For all of Engineer's embarrassment, it's not like it was the worst attempt at sex he's ever had.

He just forgets that he's not 20 anymore sometimes.

Additionally, it was easier to get laid back then too. Engie gives up on his guitar, setting it aside and gathering up cards and chips. They would all forget who-owed-who by morning anyway.

"Nah. That's Pyro's bag," He says with a chuckle, coming out somewhat awkward. "Damn firebug could clean house, weren't for how damn excited he gets."

god dammit dell conagher

southern polite doesn't apply to a guy who said you just have to ask

just do it

Aging is stupid like that. What do you mean he's pushing mid-fifties? He has women to seduce, he doesn't have time for that 'getting old' shit.

He'll help clean up, but there's no sense of urgency. Just idly putting cards back into a shape resembling a deck, pushing chairs in, wiping debris into a paper towel, things like that. "It's odd to remember there might be a human being in that suit," Spy says, frowning to himself a little. Pyro unnerves him, and he's not too proud to admit it.

Really, he's staying because he hears that awkwardness. But he's not going to push it unless Engie gets truly hopeless.

You're telling him. Age didn't matter much to Engie normally, especially for a dangerous mercenary who lives-dies-repeats almost daily. But being done with your thirties is still a wild concept.

"He ain't so bad. Weird lil' critter, but not bad."

This is coming from one of the few men on the team who isn't scared of Pyro, though. Maybe that's not too surprising, though, the way the mercenary followed and protected him some days.

Truly hopeless might happen. He's not sixteen, it's not like he's asking a girl to prom for the first time (she said no anyway), but christ. The merc was normally never this forward about this kind of thing - not so out of the blue, anyway. He's quiet for a moment, stacking chips. Thinking. Overthinking. He shakes his head. He had to change the subject.

"So, uh. How's your back?"

Wait, that's stupid. That's a stupid question. It's the first time he's brought up that morning since it happened, but it's a stupid way to start. Whoops. Guess he'll roll with it.

"Hm," is all he has to say about Pyro. At the end of the day, he's a member of the team and just another oddity in their daily lives. At least he's not a wizard.

Spy pauses at the question, shoving the cards back into their carton. So that's what this is. His lip twitches up just a bit.

"Nothing some stretches, ice packs, and rest couldn't take care of. How is your... Everything?"

Callback.

On the plus side, the wizard only tries to kill them once a year.

"Good t'know. I remember the scratches. Didn't think my nails were that long."

Says the guy with a prosthesis that grinds people to death via rip-cord. Engie moves and brushes next to Spy to grab the last few chips and dump out a couple of ashtrays. He glances up at the man at the new question, though, and shakes his head.

"As far as I've checked, fine. I mean, I ain't paralyzed myself into a leg cramp with a charlie horse and a hard-on all over again. So that's sayin' something, right?"

Half the reason this was difficult was because Dell was a subtle flirt; all humor, politeness, southern charm, but obviously interested. It worked for him, usually. But he's well-aware he's not going to fool a man who's a hell of a lot better at being seductive than he is.

He's not aware, however, of the way his voice drops low, and how all his little gestures punctuated themselves with small smiles that betrayed his modesty. He flashes one as he turns back, sets both trays down on the poker table, and leans back the orange round-backed chairs (1968 is here to stay), arms crossed.

"Still don't remember that night, but whatever-the-hell personas we took on drunk had a hell of a time. Hopin' that's outta my system."

That's a polite way of saying: Drunk You and Drunk Me are wild.

And, in the end, he'd rather deal with one wizard instead of an army of robots.

"You must have put effort into it."

It's... weird to see Engineer flirting. Weird enough that it takes him a moment to fully catch on. You only mention a drunken tryst if you want to set boundaries or try it again, after all, but he's actually being a little coy about it. It's charming.

Spy laughs quietly, giving the table one last glance-over before deciding it's clean enough. "It'd be a shame for that to be the incident that took you out of commission." He pauses, coughing politely to clear his throat. "I... think I remember enough to admit it may have been my fault. I think whiskey makes me like to push buttons."

"Probably."

That table's never going to be completely clean. Despite best efforts, it's a poker table in the middle of a lounge for nine gross men and sometimes Miss Pauling. Still, sometimes basic hygiene is nice.

Engineer barks out a wheezy laugh at that remark, for all of Spy's attempted politeness. He brings a fist up to clear his own throat.

"Like I said last time. I don't remember if you were good or bad, but you didn't kill me," He says with a grin, using the same hand to slip his goggles off and sit them on his forehead. Can't make bedroom eyes without the eyes, okay.

"Hell, you push buttons anyway."

Spy has standards. This meets... the bare minimum of them. But after this long living with eight other men, he's learned that this is the best he can ask for.

"Even more so when I've had a few shots of mezcal, apparently. I think I may have... what's it called? 'Eaten the worm'? There was a worm involved somewhere, I think."

He's getting off-topic. Spy shakes his head, leaning forward on a chair. His suit jacket is still draped over his shoulder, but his elbow's starting to lock up. Not that he'll show it.

"Anyway. Lessons were learned. Although I doubt I was bad."

"You ate the worm?" Engineer's eyebrows raise. He blinks, and a wide grin spreads across his face. "Goddamn! Wish I remembered that."

Spy was right, though. Engineer needed to get back on topic himself. He unfolded his arms to lay them casually over his legs.

"Wouldn't've tried again if I thought you were.”

That'd be a better compliment if Engie could remember. He was relaxing a little, though, now that he had already brought it up. As stupid as it felt, he was getting bolder.

"... You still looked good in my shirt, though. I been, uh, thinking about it.”

Shit. Wait. Not as brave as he thought. His brow pinches, and he drops his head with a groan.

"... I usually got a crutch when I do this kind of thing. Dinner or a walk home or a nightcap or... somethin'. But, uh...” He looks up, somewhat sheepish. “That offer still good? 'Cause... I think I feel like makin' it up to you.”

Help him, man.

He’s better at being blunt. He smiles anyway and rubs the back of his neck.

“Seein’ as we skipped a week and all.”

"Possibly. Get me drunk enough and no dare seems too extreme."

And then, the truth comes out. Spy's lip twitches up again. This - goddammit, this is kind of cute. Probably one of the best ways he's ever been propositioned. Spy clears his throat once Engie stops talking, pushing away from the chair and finally dropping that stupid jacket in front of him, his elbow stinging as it changes position after locking in for the past few minutes.

He ignores that and dares to step closer.

"Well. In a way, there could be a walk home. Granted, it'd only be about thirty feet, but I think it's the thought that counts. You don't have any other plans tonight?"

Oh.

Oh, that actually worked.

Engineer blinks his surprise away for a second until Spy comes forward. Then, suddenly, he feels his shoulders relax and he straightens out. Hell, he didn't even realize how stiff he was.

This part, he can do.

"Nope. Not at all."

That's a lie. Technically, he had back-up plans, but only because he didn't think this would work.

"But I like the sound of that."

Edited (changed my mind, he's not standing. this is illegal now.) 2018-05-26 04:35 (UTC)

The problem with a big ol' brain is that you think too much. But of all the things for Spy to not fight, this is a bit of an odd one, so he doesn't blame Engie for the confusion. It's entirely possible he's been thinking about this too.

Well, now that they're in agreement in buying these tickets to the bone zone, it's time to test the waters. Spy nods towards the hallway.

"Shall we continue this discussion in private?"

It's true. He's just so dang smart. But he's also ready to cash in a ride on the bone zone, so he stands.

Jokingly, he turns and sticks his elbow out. His grin widens.

"I'm guessin' you don't need an arm, but my mama'd kill me from here if I didn't offer."

Mama Conagher didn't raise a boy with no manners! Be a gentleman and treat your fuckbuddy right!!

Edited 2018-05-26 05:22 (UTC)

Manners: the difference between a fuckbuddy and a one-night stand.

Spy smiles again, closing the distance to easily loop his arm with Engie's. Mostly as an excuse to press up against him just a little, standing shoulder to shoulder.

"Your mother is a wise woman. Lead the way."

"She's a hell of a shot. I don't cross her."

Close is good. Engie likes close. He pulls Spy a little closer as he leads the way.

"Now, then. If we're stickin' with the whole 'walking home' thing... usually, one of three things happens. I say goodnight, I say goodnight 'n get a kiss for the road... or, the second one gets a little excitin' and I get dragged inside."

Engie's room was technically closer, but you know what? That sort of ruins the idea. They'll go the other way instead.

"Technically, though, we're skippin' the pretense."

"Mm, there's a formula for this? How suave of you."

Don't think he doesn't notice the change in direction towards his room, though. He laughs quietly, letting Engie take the lead.

"True. But people have been saying chivalry is dead. There's no reason to prove them right."

Whatever. They already did it in Engie's room anyway.

"I mean. I didn't do the math," Engie says with a chuckle. "Just observin' the constants. In my case, 'leastways. Is that more or less romantic?"

As for chivalry, Engineer gives a one-armed shrug.

"Hell, who said that?"

"I'd wager it's about the same."

They're coming up on it: Spy's room. He has his smoking room, sure, but however off-limits that room is, this is a hundred times even more forbidden. His own personal sanctuary.

"Today's youth," he says, affecting his voice to sound particularly crotchety. "Not that they know anything about manners."

He slows to a stop outside of his door and begrudgingly unlinks himself from Engineer's arm.

"Well. Here we are."

"Well," He starts lightly. "They don't, but they get laid more than I do. Guessin' they're doing something right."

As they come up to Spy's room, Engie is mildly surprised he got this far. He half-expected the other merc to steer him in the other direction by now. But it's fine, apparently, and Engineer flashes a lopsided smile as he hooks his thumbs to his belt.

"Here we are. I had a good time, walkin' you two minutes down a hall."

Okay, he's joking. They don't have to play out the whole metaphor.

Well, it is only fair, after all. Besides, those random women he's occasionally picked up at the bar got to see this, why shouldn't someone he's actively known for years? Same situation, different context.

Spy holds up a finger and fishes keys from his pocket, unlocking his door and nodding towards it. "Would you like to come in?"

Okay, he's definitely teasing at this point, but if he can't have some fun with this, what's the point?

Fair enough. But hah, Engineer picks up on the teasing, and opts to keep up with the game. He leans forward.

"I think I would."

There goes that low voice again.

Spy nods, and then he then opens the door, letting Engie enter first.

It's clean. Somewhat dark, but a little tricked out. Curtains, a rug, there's a dedicated shelf on a bookshelf for colognes and such. He's managed to fit a nicer bed in here than what usually comes standard from HQ.

Not that he gives Engie much of a chance to appreciate it. As soon as he enters, Spy follows, locking the door behind him and taking hold of Engie's shoulders to push him against the wall and kiss him. Gentle, but assertive.

Well. Engie was appreciating it. He opened his mouth to ask about the cologne until he felt his back hit the wall. The beginning of a sound, whatever he was going to say before, just barely comes out of him before Spy's mouth is on his.

"Hmhf--"

Who cares anymore, though. He's kissing back, just a little rougher than before, in turn grabbing fistfuls of Spy's suit jacket. He'll get it off, but not just yet.

"Heh. This is..." He manages to get between breaths. "... pretty much what I figured your room looked like."

Between pushing closer as Engie grips his jacket to barely allowing himself to breathe, Spy manages to compose himself enough to pull away. As calm as he seemed before, there's no small amount of wanting behind his movements. Looks like Engie wasn't the only one thinking about this.

"Is that good or bad?"

He stays close, but just far enough that Engie can move if he wants.

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