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[ He's lucky no one's stopped him from doing this, though he'd talked himself out of it for days since they stepped back on the Moira. Steve's been avoiding people more than he usually does, for certain reasons, and thanks to an interesting book that showed up in the mail, he's been reading to pass the time. About fish. He draws a few of them, settling on one in particular after reading about it.

Tucked in the usual place in Andyr's room is a folded piece of paper with a few fish sketched so that they're wrapped in flags like they're togas. It's the only thing he can think of to help bridge the gap. ]

Do you know about American flagfish? SR

[ ah, this has been a conversation he's been aggressively trying not to think about. and aggressively trying not to think too far into the fact steve hadn't spoken to him since they got a lot more than friendly on that island. most people he's been able to brush it off with - so we kissed, so we touched, it happens, forget it. he and steve did a bit more than just kissing and some light touching.

what he sends him makes it feel like nothing had happened, and andyr's relieved to find fish wearing flag togas, and a note about another ridiculous kind of fish. so back to normal, he's hoping. ]

yeah, though they're not called that much anymore. i'm surprised you do. or were you just trying to make shit up again and accidentally ended up being right?

ps, i dont know if i should give these ones american names or roman ones

I've been reading about them. You know, it's a lot more interesting than politics. [ Because those are the sorts of things he would find himself reading back home, what he filled his apartment with when he didn't have anything better to do, and for a few minutes, he doesn't know what else to say. Steve could probably tell him too much, even if it's not what he wants to do when he has no idea what he should do. Still, his fingers betray him anyway. ] It reminds me of you.

[ So I drew you a picture because I want you to think of me too. As if he'd ever send that despite thinking it for the last several days. ]

i'd rather watch paint dry than read about politics [ not a fan, but the politics of andyr's world are a lot more disgusting than steve's. no one's even pretending at altruism anymore.

and then there's that, and andyr doesn't know how to read it. 'it reminds me of you', which is a kind sentiment of thinking about him, but saying no more than that, could be completely innocent. god, when was the last time he did something like this? 17? after staring at it a moment, andyr resolves not to read any more into anything than what the words say. ]

sorry, guess you havent had the vent rattling to remind you about me normally. shepard and i got all this aquarium shit in that we've been working on putting together the last week or so. [ and it's been convenient in letting andyr just sit in a room all day and not think about all the nice but unfortunate things that happened on that island. and how much it sucks to come back to this, after having felt so goddamn alive. ]

Edited 2016-09-29 07:03 (UTC)

You're not missing much.

[ No one really likes politics, though he thinks the ideas behind them are interesting enough to know about, and that's where he's stuck for a while, rereading Andyr's messages and feeling... strange. Not confused. It certainly has nothing to do with that, not when he's thought about what had happened between them and what it could mean if there is ever more to it. Does he want more? Does he ask Andyr if they're okay? If he's okay? He's overthinking the smallest things, and Steve taps at his MID for far too long before finally continuing on with the conversation.

Better to pretend it didn't happen if that's what Andyr wants. ] You could always use the door if you wanted to visit. [ And then, just as quickly: ] But it sounds like you have your hands full. How's it coming along?

[ there's far too many lengthy pauses in this conversation for it to seem legitimately as normal as they're attempting to pass it off as. maybe steve's just busy - multitasking. and not sitting here staring at his MID like andyr is.

he closes his eyes, and shakes his head. if it isn't a big deal, stop making it a big deal. he's done this before - take something and shove it back to the far corners of his mind, then tell yourself it isn't there anymore. and yet, when the message comes, the first thing he types is: ]

that an invite? [ do you want me to visit?, but that seems too telling, and fuck, when was the last time andyr gave two flaming shits about what seemed telling? this is stupid - andyr, you're being stupid. ] its ok. i suck ass at this assembly crap. people have been helping though. bucky and his dog came by.

[ The ironic thing about all of this is that he's not busy at all. In fact, he's sitting on the edge of his bed and staring between his MID and the doorway (and sometimes the vent) like he's going to show up right after he's practically asked him to. Steve drags a hand through his hair and keeps up the pretense as best he can, smiling a little at the mention of Bucky and the pup. ]

You're welcome here whenever you want. [ Yes, it is an invite. Yes, yes, yes. Does it sound normal? Is this even normal anymore? ] Things like that take time. I'm sure you're doing fine.

[ And he can hear it in the back of his head, all the ways his subconscious is telling him not to do it. Yet, he holds his breath and does it anyway. ]

If you can't come here, I can go to you. See your work-in-progress.

[ it isn't just that they'd gotten far more intimate than they probably should have that's the issue of awkwardness here, or the fact andyr doesn't know what to take from what happened, how to even start unraveling what he feels about it, let alone worry about what's going through steve's head on the subject - but steve had been one of the very few people in andyr's life, since it became what it is now, to so actively seek him out. to give a shit about who he is, rather than what he is.

he'll tell himself over and over and over that he couldn't care less if steve hated him the next morning, because that's how andyr convinces himself of things, but the relief that spikes in him at the note that he's always welcome by, that he's still welcome by, is clear. regardless of what else he may be to andyr, steve's a good man, better than most andyr's met, and there's a part of him that just doesn't want to disappoint him.

so, having him come by to see him? certainly. it's easier to leave that up to him, so he can bail if he gets the urge to. ]

yeah, come by and see. i'm the only one here now, so come make sure i'm not fucking everything up.

Give me a few minutes. Should I bring anything?

[ Because he's going to try to keep it simple and just... be the way they are, the way they always have been. He doesn't have to think about that night they shared or the implications of what it is or what it could be if he allowed it to sink even further beneath his skin than it already has. Yet, the prospect of getting that close to Andyr again makes him feel warm, much too hot, and Steve pulls at the collar of his shirt before getting up from his position on the bed and moving towards the door.

Oh, and: ] What room is it?

nah, we got all the tools with the tank crap in the mail.

[ and they'll be an attached room number ~~that i don't know yet because we haven't submitted this thing oops~~.

once steve makes it over, he'll find andyr sitting cross legged in the center of a large room, a few tanks constructed already, some with fish in them, but a lot more of things that still need to be constructed. steve's toga-fish have also been pinned on the wall for the moment. seemed like a good place for them. ]

[ He doesn't send a reply, trying to keep his steps steady and not seem as if he's rushing to see him. Maybe, in some way, he is, and there's a strange sort of anxiety to that, not knowing what it's going to be like when they see each other for the first time since that planet and the year that had gone by with them on it. Steve stands at the threshold of the door for a second or two when he gets there, watching him and conflicted. He'd never been good with situations like this. He'd never been in a situation like this. ]

It looks good so far. [ For some reason, it takes him a lot longer to say that than usual, but he's kind of glad something along the lines of you look good didn't come out of his mouth instead. He smiles, crossing the room to join him. ] What are you working on right now?

[ when andyr lifts his head, and raises his eyes up to take in steve leaning against the door frame, he's not sure what he expected, but immediately picturing him half naked and moaning, with his dick in andyr's hand, was not it.

give him a second to blink blankly, as his brain flatlines. apparently this is what happens after one night stands come back to bite you in the ass. you'd think he'd have learned, after alva, but then again, he'd never compare what happened with alva to what happened with steve. different people, different things, different reasons. by the time his mind's back online, steve's crossed the room and come to sit down with him, asking a question. ]

What? [ he's beauty, he's grace. he's backtracking to figure out what that question was. right, what he's working on. turning to the side, andyr pushes some pieces out of the way, and unearths a page of instructions, with a technical drawing on the front of what the assembled tank is supposed to look like. ] This one. I've been trying to just open one box at a time, but I'm kind of starting to think they mixed parts...

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