deconstruct | [SAV] IC INBOX/MAILBOX

Do you want some company?

[ He'll keep his hands to himself this time. ]

[ there's a brief pause, and normally he might have brushed this off. said he was fine, he likes the quiet, he's about to pass out anyway, something like that. but andyr's never liked being alone. as much as he's tried to, he hates that feeling of isolation. like the world's forgotten he exists - not an irrational fear, a reality.

the more he thinks on it, the more the solitude of the forest around him feels suffocating, and the harder it is to just give into the want for company. steve's company. ]

yeah, i'd like that. is there a gps or something on these wrist phone things you can find me with?

[ The party's beginning to wind down anyway, something slow and easy enough to slip away from. Steve's probably had enough alcohol to intoxicate an army, but he's hardly feeling any of it. Aside from the mellowness that's settled over him, there's something about spending time with Andyr that he isn't going to simply put aside. He can't figure out what it is yet, but maybe a peaceful night like this will soon come to explain it better. ]

I think it's still working all the way up here. Give me a few minutes. [ Because it is getting dark, after all. ] Want me to bring you anything from the party?

blanket, maybe? and some of those muffin things. like five. or seven.

[ he eats a lot, okay, sue him. andyr hadn't been planning on staying out here to sleep, just came with a towel to swim, but ended up loving the area and didn't feel the want to move, so, as night creeps on, it's getting a bit colder. and he's getting a bit hungry. when steve makes it to him (after about a 10-15 minute brisk walk east of the city), he'll see andyr sitting at the edge of some of one of the larger, flat rocks bordering the pool, bare feet dangling over the side to kick little ripples in the water. ]

Okay. I'll be there soon.

[ Which turns into nearly half an hour, taking his time to find more than whatever "those muffin things" are and something to put it all in. Steve even takes the opportunity to ask their hosts for the blankets, something they're more than happy to provide, and when he gets there, he can feel the cooler air just a few steps in toward the water. The light from the MID around his wrist guides his way until he's standing next to where Andyr is sitting. It doesn't take any effort at all to join him, crossing his legs rather than stretching them out to mimic how Andyr's touching the water with his feet. ]

Here. [ He offers him the food, gently tucking the blanket between them so most of it's draped over Andyr's thigh. ] This is a nice place. [ Steve feels he can breathe better than he did with all those people around. ]

[ the extra time doesn't bother him much, after all, he'd been here for hours already. when he hears twigs and leaves crunch nearby, Andyr's head lifts to meet him, offering a smile as steve settles down next to him. tugging at the blanket, he pulls his feet up to fold his legs under him and settle the blanket over top, taking to the muffins and munching one down. ]

Mh. Thanks. [ he murmurs, through a mouth full of muffins, pausing a moment to chew before continuing. ] Everything here's nice. There's not much this untouched back home.

[ He gets an answering smile in return, leaning back to rest most of his weight on his hands. Steve's careful not to aggravate the arm Andyr had bitten, though it's bandaged and clean and hidden under the loose sleeves of the clothes he's wearing, and he nods, tilting his head to look up at the sky. It's dark and so, so clear, the stars and moons of distant planets shining brightly as the evening closes in around them. ]

You can't see anything like this in New York either. [ It's agreement, mostly. NYC might be his home, but there are some things that can never be had beneath the brightness of all those lights and the constant commotion. The City That Never Sleeps. ] Maybe I can show it to you some day. [ It's nothing like the bits and pieces of the world he knows Andyr to be from, and Steve hopes that he'd come to like it for the same reasons he does. ]

[ Andyr glances up to him, seeing the quiet smile he wears, studying his face for a moment. all the differences there, between him and alva and nick. alva, more than nick. nick has some kind of glint to him - something brash, energetic, devious. steve's too close to that sort of open kindness and earnest care that alva carries, but he lacks the shadow under his eyes, the wrinkles around his eyes. that look of being just tired. not in the same way alva is. and there's so much else there in steve that speaks volumes. difficult for andyr to really put his finger on, as of yet. ]

Big city, right? Lots of lights, concrete. There was a big park once, right? [ there's no parks in new orleans anymore. maybe small patches of grass, where the wards with the kind of civic funding have dug up layer after layer after layer of steel and concrete and stuck in some grass. maybe astro turf. a couple trees. no real parks, not in the city.

he'd like to see new york, Andyr thinks, as he leans to flop back on the rock behind him, laying out with the container of muffins set somewhere between them. steve's new york, that isn't so ruined as the split territories and over populated nations are now. it's a nice thought, but how likely is it? ] You figure we'll crash land in your Atlantic next?

[ There hasn't been much time to pass since finding and knowing Andyr, but he's stopped making the comparisons between him and his best friend and has started looking into the differences. Everything that comprises this man is still strange, a wonderful surprise that makes him far too curious to know more, and Steve's reckless desire to understand has him there time and time again, reaching out and hoping that, one day, Andyr might want the same from him. All he can do is offer, give and give because it's the kind of life he's always known, and if someone might benefit from that in some way, Steve is more than willing to hand it over. He glances over at him when he flops back, close enough to playfully nudge him with his knee. ]

It isn't something I'd really recommend doing. Tried it once already. [ There's a touch of sadness to the twist of his mouth, voice soft for a moment. ] It's lonely out that far. [ And it sits for just a second before he's shaking his head and huffing out a quiet laugh as if it'd never been said in the first place. ] Anyway, the city's a lot nicer than the ocean. You'd have more fun there.

[ Even if certain people would argue he doesn't know what that word is. Maybe it's true these days, but still, sometimes, there's more to him than seventy years spent suspended in ice and separated by all that time. He could, at the very least, somehow prove that to Andyr. ]

[ Ah. Right, Bucky mentioned that. Crashing a plane into the ocean, frozen for some tons of years. Sounds like a movie plot, but here the man is, having lived it, and Andyr finds him too easy to believe. He thinks back on the talk they'd had over text a while ago that got heated. Steve, talking about all that's here that he doesn't have back home. Tries to think of it. If someone stuck him in a freezer, and he woke up half a century later to a different world - no Alva, no Posie, no Mikal. What purpose would he even find in something like that? It's a sad reality.

one he feels like steve deserves to be free of, and when he gives the quiet, sad kind of laugh, andyr's knee lifts to thud against him - his stomach, or side, or chest, whatever he can get to, he's pretty bendy. ]

Hey. If I'm smiling here you sure as fuck better be smiling too. Have a muffin, it's good for you. [ lifting up one of the pastries, he all but boops steve on the nose with it. eat it. smile. be happy. this isn't the middle of the ocean, you're not frozen, and you're hanging out with someone that might call you a friend if he was drunk enough. everything is awesome here, enjoy it. ] Besides, I'm not spending my sight seeing time with a moper.

[ It's instinct for Steve to push at his leg, and then, Andyr's invading more of his space with his weird dessert, leaving him with a plethora of alternatives to what he actually says. Of course, he could take what he offered him and let it be, feels the lingering sweetness of whatever had been back at the party still affecting him, and eventually, he just grabs Andyr's hand to give it a squeeze. He uses it as a distraction, a moment in which he's shoving the blanket out of the way as he makes an impromptu show of shifting onto a knee and gripping beneath his knee. ]

I think you have to go places to actually do that. [ There's a smug look on his face, borderline mischievous in a way he hasn't felt since before crashing into the Atlantic, and they're so close to the water that it's natural to pull him up, reminding himself that Andyr's heavier than he looks. ] Let me help. [ The way he holds him for that brief second is a sort of awkward bridal carry, and then, he's just ducking his head as he tosses him towards the water.

They can spend time talking about their histories later. Right now, like he said, he just wants to enjoy the time he has and what might be left of this journey of theirs. ]

The fuc-- [ all Andyr gets out in reaction to being suddenly princess carried by this man, feeling annoyingly much smaller than he knows he is, before it dawns on him that this is not Steve having a momentary lapse of sanity, but being a shithead. And Andyr immediately starts flailing, squirming, and shouting in a way that still sounds a lot like laugh. ]

Nonono, you asshole--! [ and there goes andyr's head, underwater, with an eruption of bubbles, as he's still cursing Steve's name and heritage. another flurry of splashes and limbs signals him surfacing again, spitting out water and sweeping soaked bangs back from his forehead. Eyes settle on Steve, with brows raised, looking ready to charge out of the water and tackle his goofy ass. ]

You know what this means, right? Means you're coming in here with me. [ Andyr's telling him, as he stalks up the bank of the lagoon towards the rock Steve's standing on, clothes soaked through and clinging, with a wide, maybe a little bit dangerous grin on his lips. ] So you've got between now and when I get over there to throw yourself in, or it'll be me tossing you in like a goddamn ragdoll this time, Blondie.

[ Steve's on his feet now, leaning over to lift the blanket up and toss it far from the water so it doesn't get wet, and he spends a few seconds watching Andyr move towards him, movements a little laden by the water gluing his clothes to him. It doesn't help that he genuinely feels like laughing at his threat rather than take it seriously, standing his ground and hardly one to back down from a challenge. He knows Andyr is strong enough to move him, but he isn't going to go into that water without a fight. And to be fair, it isn't a fight at all he gives him when he decides on what to do. Steve takes a step forward and rushes him, using the momentum of the slight slope to gain a little speed so he can get an arm around the other man's waist and drag them both into the water.

It's not a graceful entry whatsoever, hitting the surface kind of hard and forgetting to suck in a breath as he sinks down with his grip loosening just a fraction. The water's cool but hardly enough to warrant freezing in, and when he breaks the surface, he breathes heavy, letting out an amused sound that pulls at the expression on his face. He feels just as at ease as he had mid-way through that party, like anything is possible, that guilt or sorrow or grief have no hold on him here, and he lets go of Andyr when his head is above water, grinning at him. ]

Guess it did mean I was coming in with you. [ He does whatever the version of a shrug is while treading water. ] Better luck tossing me in next time?

[ that was rude. how dare you rob him of his revenge. again, andyr realizes a second too late what Steve's planning. The entire charge into the water, Steve's getting bony elbows stabbed into his back and bony knees jabbing into his sides, up the point that Andyr pops back up from the water (again), to hear Steve cute bit of commentary. ]

Oh, you fuck. [ Despite having just been released, Andyr's launching himself back at the man, an arm around his neck and another shoving at the top of his head as he's putting all his spider monkey clamoring into trying to dunk him. god, it's been years since andyr felt this light, let alone was having this much actual fun with anyone, and he can't seem to stop laughing like a maniac child, snickering as he practically climbs onto Steve's shoulders in his attempts to sink him. ]

You came out here just to torment me, didn't you? [ he gets out, hands part pulling at the man's hair a bit ridiculously. ] God, the least you could do is fucking go down out of courtesy, you douche.

[ If he hadn't wanted Andyr to climb on him, he would have been adamant about not letting him, but as it is, he honestly doesn't have the heart to fight him that much. They're having fun in a way he hasn't experienced in far too long, and Steve lets himself sink just enough that he can get his hands up and around Andyr's wrists. He pulls forward and kicks up at the same time, using the leverage to toss him even further across the lagoon. By then, he's already making a break for the opposite side. ]

I asked if you wanted company. [ It's a low-key taunt, nothing at all serious given how silly they're being. ] You could have said no. [ And that's the end of that, deciding to use the waterfall at the far end as cover and pulling himself up on the small ledge just behind it to sit. He expects Andyr to join him - or try to seek his revenge yet again - and while he waits, Steve pulls at his shoes and drops them behind him.

If things could always be this simple, this good, he doesn't know if he'd ever want to leave. Normally, it would fill him so deeply with anything except happiness, but right now, soaked to the skin and parts of him aching from Andyr's elbows and knees and the bite at his arm, he doesn't think he could feel any lighter. ] But I'm fair. I'll let you have the next one.

[ In truth, Andyr isn't that upset about being thrown around. A strong competitive determination born in him to get Steve back for it at some point, yes, but not so much that he wants to sour any kind of mood with it. Besides, behind tossed around is kind of fun, and he's sort of forgotten the feeling of it from when he was a kid playing with his dad or neighborhood friends. Not many can actually launch him these days. That's what it brings him back to - the days before everything crumbled. Before the earth fell away under his feet and dropped him down into hell.

yet, not in the way that's just erasing it all, like the luminous sea had done when he woke up younger, left to mull over it later when things went back to normal. here, on this weird ocean planet, he's himself, or whatever frankenstein patchwork thing himself is now, and he's still able to laugh, smile, and go ten minutes without any thought of hapsburg. where he is paddling his way towards the waterfall, looking like some kind of otter creature with just the upper part of his face above the surface, it can't be seen, but he's smiling with a kind of warmth he can't seem to contain. ]

Didn't know my company was going to be a jerk. [ He quips, as he stands underneath the waterfall for a moment, squinted eyes closed and lips pulled back in a grin, letting it pour over him in a way that just feels wonderfully relaxing, before he moves to sit with Steve. Copying him, Andyr tugs at his shoes, setting them aside, and tugs his shirt free a second after, not wanting to deal with how much extra cold the soaked fabric will bring. ] You know we're gonna freeze our asses off trying to get back to the city now, right?

[ As everything settles, Steve just watches him. It'd always been something he'd done when he'd had the time, riding the subway or just wandering the streets in an effort to people-watch and understand what it is he'd missed all those years being frozen. Andyr doesn't remind him of home though. He makes him think of something else, of a brawling kid in the back alleys and what it had been like not to be so troubled by life and free. There's spirit in his smile and so much independence that he's almost envious of it. Almost. Steve just keeps grinning at him, pulling at the loose material of the shirt he's wearing to roll it up and pull it over his head in a mimic of Andyr's own movements. ]

I think we'll be okay. [ It's dark now, his MID glowing softly so they're not entirely without light, and it illuminates the now-permanent blue streak along his collarbone right above his heart, the not so white bandage wrapped neatly around the arm Andyr had bit. There's a soft pink stain to it, but Steve doesn't pay it any mind. He's not caring about anything except Andyr and the rush of the waterfall around them. ] If you get cold, I can warm you up.

[ The comment is completely casual, hardly an implication of more than what he had in mind when he said it. After all, there's a reason he'd made sure to spare the blankets, and it's easier to share body heat than suffer alone. Still, the events of the entire night are beginning to catch up with him, and he opens his mouth to elaborate before floundering a little and just flushing a bit instead. ]

[ Not much attention is paid to Steve in particular as they go about setting the wet clothes aside, and Andyr busies himself with rolling his pant legs up, at least, not until he casually makes a comment that would be a hell of an innuendo coming out of most anyone else's mouth. He can't help the spike of warmth that alone sends through him, and Andyr blames that on the wine from earlier, the food, and all this party nonsense, but it's Captain Marshmallow. He's the last person Andyr would suspect to be making innuendos at him while half naked. ]

Since you're probably the most wholesome person I've ever met, I'm gonna assume you meant that in the most G rated way possible. [ he tells him with a small smile, trying not to laugh at his flustering, as he turns to look at him with brows raised. right, the floundering and flushing is a good indicator that he'd meant something much more family friendly, and just had it come out suggestive by incident of being a huge dork.

Looking at him now, though, Andyr's eyes catch on that blue streak across his chest, highlighted by the light from the MID, and his brows furrow, a hand reaching out automatically to touch at the color, fingers rubbing at it like it's just a bit of paint or dye that stained on him. ] The hell's that? You didn't have that before, did you?

[ because, okay, yes, he looked at you one of those several times they've been some level of undressed near each other, big deal, sue him. ]

[ He's so grateful to Andyr for pointing that out. Really. In fact, he's so grateful that the blush sort of heats its way into his ears, and he slouches forward a little in an effort to hide it, doubting it'll do much good considering their light source is coming from his own wrist. Still, he tries, and it's almost fine until Andyr reaches over to touch his chest. Steve's hardly a stranger to that either, though it's usually less purposeful rubbing, and his mind sort of shuts down for a second or two before his own hand is grabbing at Andyr's wrist.

It's definitely permanent, and it's definitely not going anywhere. After all those years of never having a scar or scratch on him, it's kind of strange. Ink that won't come off. A reminder of how careless he'd been, how useless. ]

It was back on an outpost a few months ago. [ The one with all those slave traders. ] A lot of the crew ended up there by accident, and I tried to help 'em. Didn't want anyone getting sold off or worse. [ He gives a one-shouldered shrug, letting his hand slip from Andyr's and giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. ] Guess the serum can't stop everything. [ If Andyr doesn't know about that, he's sure he'll ask. Still, now isn't really the time to be talking about something so heavy. He just wants to enjoy the water and the company and maybe find some comfortable place to sleep in a few hours. ]

[ At first, Andyr isn't following, doesn't get the timeline for the things he'd been told about before, and is more focused on the hand at his wrist, frowning for how quickly Steve had wanted to touch gone. Nothing he takes personally, more so concerned about what the mark means to him. Made more so with the tone he takes.

It's at 'sold off' that is all slots into place, and Andyr's hand reflexively tightens around the fingers slipping through his, eyes a bit unfocused. The slaver post that Nick told him about. The one that had set him off one of the first days he way here, when he was ready to hunt down the old captains and empty their throats onto the hallway tiles at the mere suggestion that they might've had something to do with people being sent there. It still lingers in him - that creeping paranoia that they're just cattle in a pen, that they can be traded out or picked off whenever it's convenient. That maybe no one actually goes home through the Ingress. Hadn't the new captains said something about it being design to carry cargo? The reminder of that place, and the new knowledge that Steve had been one of those people traded off, takes andyr from the relaxed, peaceful calm he'd been so easily sunken into, to a flare of rage, and nothing to do with it.

The slavers aren't here, the captains aren't here, what happened to Steve is already done and the ink on his skin is branded permanently onto him. His eyes practically burn into the blue streak he's staring at, and his hand around Steve's tightens, as if holding onto him can somehow erase it. ]

Are they dead? The slavers. [ it's hard for him to let something like that go so easily, to just go back to feeling blissful and contented. least of all with whatever's going on here fueling his compulsions. sometimes andyr's compulsions aren't that pretty. but maybe, if he knows they're gone, that they paid, that something was done. maybe that's enough. (nothing's ever enough to make up for being another man's property, steve was from a place safe from that, he should have been safe) ]

[ It is something that happened, but it's also behind them now, behind him. Steve doesn't hold a grudge against the person who put that mark on his body, remembering intently how he'd felt even after he'd come to. No, he doesn't hate the person who did this to him; rather, he can't stand his own actions, how he'd willingly gone in expecting to free all those people like he had during the War, when Bucky had been MIA and assumed dead, and how it had turned completely around on him. He glances down at Andyr's hand around his, gently twisting his fingers so that they push between his and he can squeeze them properly. A tender moment that no one else will ever come to know had passed between them. (And idly, he thinks, this is the type of affection he prefers, quiet and calming and defined by the unspoken desperation.) His mouth thins. ]

A lot of them are. [ Not by his hand, not that many. The rest of the crew had come to their aid, unable to tolerate the very thought of freedom being stripped away the way it had been for anyone there, and Steve sighs. ] And those who aren't probably wish they were. It's... [ It's not okay, but what else should he say? ] This universe didn't give us the best welcome.

[ A weak smile, and he reaches over in an absent gesture to smooth some of Andyr's hair down, tug a tiny wayward leaf from the damp strands. The back of his hand brushes his cheek, a careful motion , and then, he's looking away to stare at the waterfall. ]

Good. [ firm, resolute. good. dead, or living something so pitiful they'd beg for it. like andyr did once. like so many other slaves do. it isn't living, isn't existence - just waiting to rot, or something worse. something like what andyr is now. there are some sins he can forgive. some errors of judgment, some acts of desperation. but any human being who can do that to another soul, as far as andyr's concerned, doesn't deserve redemption. ] Shoulda nuked them.

[ spoken distantly, somewhere else, before there's the touch his hair, careful and fussing, like when he's seen mothers clean smudges off their son's faces. like when his father would fix jehanne's braids at the park. and that straying touch against the mist sprayed coolness of his cheek, something like a small shiver running through him at the softness of the touch. something so, so foreign, and what reason at all does steve rogers have to issue something like that to him? what has he ever done to deserve it from him? what's inside him that seems worth it? that he could possibly see? ]

Why're you so nice to me? [ a near whispered question, spoken in something of a trance, andyr's eyes searching his face and feeling like there must be answers to all of this somewhere there. how, and why, steve's so kind, when he's seen things like whatever happened to bucky. why he'd seen only offers of assistance and welcoming in the baths the other day, when Andyr'd been certain there were ulterior motives. ] All I've done is hurt you.

[ Something about the tone of their conversation feels strange like this, after everything that's come between them in the last several minutes, but Steve doesn't consider it beyond that. The slavers and what they had done are left as a memory, some of it now a little more permanent than he might have imagined it being, and what's important now is this moment, what lies between him and Andyr. What might never be again after this strange haze fades away and leaves them open and raw. He feels that shiver rather than sees it, hesitating at the curve of his jaw before pushing through and letting his hand slide down the slope of neck and shoulder. His skin is a bit chilled, cool from the water, but Steve feels the strength of him through that simple touch, gaze pulling away to look back at his face. ]

I never thought you meant it. [ Each and every time had almost been an accident, more Steve's fault than Andyr's, and that speaks so much to him. If he'd wanted to hurt him, if he'd wanted to do something more than that to anyone else, he would have seen it already. He would have heard it from the others, and he doubts that anyone who would take the time to draw him a fish or write him notes isn't deserving of some sort of kindness. ] And I guess... I don't know. From what you've said, people have been doing that to you all your life. Everyone should have something nice to remember.

[ He lifts his shoulder in a shrug and squeezes his fingers, letting their twined hands drop as he turns to look out at the waterfall. There's something else, too, but he's not sure what it is, opening his mouth to comment and falling short. Instead, the hand on his shoulder slips down to rush against his bicep. ] You want me to throw you in again to make up for it?

[ Poorly timed and a partial joke, though Steve's smile is genuine and sweet. ]

[ had he been home, or even back on the Moira, a touch like this would have Andyr easily punching someone through a wall. reminds him too much of his body being coveted, claimed as property by someone through legal loopholes that keep the Houses thriving. ignoring any claim or right he has to his own skin in the light of either scientific endeavors or personal desires of a baser kind. but right now, it just seems... kind. warm. caring. an attempt to soothe, and Andyr wonders how he'd gone to that, when the topic issue had been Steve's enslavement. Andyr swallows dryly, lips a bit parted, with goosebumps prickling along his shoulders and arms, eyes holding Steve with such focus. ]

Not all my life. [ the last several years, but there was a life before that. one he'll never be able to go back to. but god, it was a dream, thinking of it now. he was normal once, do you know that, steve? he had a father, a sister, a mother. a house, he went to school, worked a job, had friends. he'd had a life, with hopes and dreams and laughter and love. and it's gone. Steve says he's been wanting to give him something nice, and suddenly Andyr feels like such a weak thing, frail, yet isn't rushing immediately to anger from it. ] So it's pity?

[ Spoken plainly, without any kind of heat behind it, just a question, as his brows knit somewhat. is that what he is now? he supposes it makes sense. Steve gripping suddenly at his bicep wakes him up somewhat, a flicker of a smile on his lips, and his hands moving to grip Steve's forearms, to keep his balance and fight at the attempt to move him, if it comes. he laughs, though it's a bit removed. ]

Whatever, no matter how much of that you do, it's not gonna keep me from thinking you're a marshmallow.

There's a difference between wanting to be nice to someone because they deserve it and pitying them. It's not pity, Andyr.

[ Whatever he thinks, whatever he might assume. There's not enough room in Steve to feel that way, though maybe he'd once felt it when they'd first met all those months ago. He'd wanted to understand, wanted to know, and now that he does, at least some of it, there's more than that to what he thinks of Andyr. Pity would belittle the strength he sees in him, his own brand of sincerity beneath all the snark and bite, and those hands at his arms suddenly warm him in a way that makes him shiver this time, the ache of the bite still deep in his skin soothed by the very pressure of his fingers. He hadn't actually considered throwing him, trying to off-put the strange intensity that's building between them with a little humor.

There's a quiet sigh, letting his arms slide slowly from Andyr's hands. ] You really think that's what I am, huh? [ It's a partial tease, uncertain about the answer but leaning closer to the other man regardless of that. In the fading light, he can focus on the shape of his face and the rhythm of his breathing and the soft pull of a smile on his mouth. Steve's eyes drop to his lips and then back to his eyes. He doesn't know what he's thinking, isn't sure he'd been thinking straight since he'd said he would join him, and a slight frown tugs at his expression. ] Because I'm nice to you?

[ Because he's nice to almost everyone? ]

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