Copying other asks and giving you a choice: 22 or 26 with Vila or Avon/Vila please!
26. I was free, and I was thinking about living with an empty bed. (Blake's 7, Avon/Vila)
"We can get away now," Vila murmured drowsily. He was trying not to move too much. Every muscle in his body achedā¦ and Avon's arm was curled around him, a firm, solid band anchoring him to the bed and to Avon's side. "Everythingās in shambles back homeā¦ they won't be paying attention to us, not for a whileā¦"
"You can go, if you like. I've never planned to stop you."
"What, not you? Thought you were panting at the chance to go."
"I was, once. But it's too late for that now. We're both tainted by association. You, and me... even if we left Liberator right now, this very second, bought new identities and vanished into the night, we'd never get away."
"From the Federation? Or from Blake?"
"Both."
"Well, that's plain enough. Can't even sneak away for a quick fuck anymore without him coming up during the pillow talk."
"I can stop talking, if you prefer."
There was a suggestive rolling growl to that final R that was nice to hearāit had been a while. But Vila didn't prefer. Avon had talked less and less, since Blake had gone on the run. And it wasn't as though Avon had ever talked to Vila about much else beforehand. Blake, and the jobs they'd pull together once they got away. Once they got free.
It struck Vila very suddenly, almost physically, that he'd never envisioned getting away alone. It wasn't just the fear of an empty bed, either.
"Why did you stay, Avon?"
"Why did you?"
"Asked you first. ...Because I was scared, what d'you think? Aren't you ever scared, Avon?"
"Fear is an uncontrollable response to external stimuli. How a human reacts to that response, however, is controllable."
A little smile, a little smug, a little sad, tugged at Vila's lips. "So you were scared, too."
Avon looked at him for a long moment, his eyes unfathomably dark. Then he slowly withdrew his arms and folded them behind his head. He fell silent, staring up at the ceiling of his cabin and ignoring Vila completely.
Touched a nerve, did I...
After a minute or two, Vila shifted and laid his head on Avon's chest. The body beneath him bristled for a moment and then relaxed; Avon didn't bother to touch him again but he didn't push Vila away, and sometimes that was as good as a caress.
Vila listened for a long time to the slow, steady rhythm of Avon's heart and lungs, the dull throb of the human engine.
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