#⭑ queue

"What — want me to read your damn mind, Red?" Frank can't help it but to huff the words out, shaking his head while he was at it before he brought his own glass up for a slow swig of dark liquid. It was true, this was a rare kinda night. No arguing just yet, no blood shed. Just two guys havin' a drink for once. Hell, he was almost waiting for the ice to crack, break out from underneath them and send them plunging into freezing waters.

Yet nothing happened, not yet. He wondered how long that would last. "Like you said — lotta things you want. I can make a list if you need. We'll be here all damn night if I do that, though."

Marc also had the fleeting thoughts — were they the only ones to make it? If not, how were the other's fairing? Had they been lucky enough to find a cave much like the two had? It sat ugly and uncertain in Marc's stomach, to think about anyone else at the moment. To wonder just what might have happened to them. To think if they were even fucking alive. . . He had to shake the thoughts soon enough. The last thing he needed was all that unnecessary stress on top of the fact he might just freeze to death before the night was over. "Might be a trained thing, for sure. Been a while since then, like you said. Muscle memory or something like that." Marc huffed, shifted. watched because around then was the moment that Garcia began to strip down more seriously. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen naked men before. In and out of the military, he had seen his fair share. Yet for some reason, in that moment it felt — strangely intimate. Perhaps because it was just the two of them? Perhaps because of the situation they'd found themselves in. Either way, Marc had to force a scoff as his ears went the slightest bit warm and he began to work on his own clothing alongside the other man. Copying movements with a belt, with buttons. It made his side ache but the last thing he was going to do would be to ask for help undressing. . . "Seen worse for sure." A huff. He'd also done — well. Enough in his time. Being in the military was prime time to be a little desperate, sometimes. Not that he was going to mention this to his roommate for the time being. "Don't see how it'll help if we still can't get much dry here." spare clothes weren't something you think to pack on a mission like this, sadly. Otherwise they would be in the clear here.

Lena wondered, in the silent moments in between — what exactly went on in Kane's head. The silence always lasted a little longer than it might with a quote unquote ' normal ' person. Kane didn't seem to have the need some people did to fill that silence up with anything. It was interesting to witness, that was certain. Lena wasn't a fan of small talk anyhow, so it was almost nice. The fact he let silences stretch, not awkward but just calmed. Still, she wondered. Of course she did, how could she not? He was something of a mystery to her and to the scientific world, really. Something to be awed when you thought about it. How he became, how he existed, how he lived. Breathed and bled and grew. she would be a liar to say she wasn't intrigued by him. No matter her stance on who or what he was. Yet the silence was broken the second she'd asked her question. Asked if he wanted to help, wanted to learn. He seemed genuinely interested, she'd give him credit there. Eyes wider, watching, body shifting as he got closer to her. Close enough she could feel his warmth again. Left her to shiver once, then gather herself soon after.

"You can — pour the eggs in, if you'd like. Then I can tell you when to add the veggies as well. Sound good?" She could teach him the timing. Maybe then he could do something like this on his own sometime. It felt like teaching a kid the ropes, which was odd in some ways. Her and Kane never spoke about children — Lena had never wanted them. Teaching Kane might be the closest she'd gotten to something in that manner. It was . . . interesting. Unlike a few weeks ago, it didn't seem to bother her like it used to. "Once the eggs start going a bit white on the bottom is when you want to add the veggies. Then when they're less opaque we can fold it."

Steven can hear it building as Marc continued to talk. He can pick up on the slightly uneven lilt to words, or the way Marc had to clearly keep pausing long enough to swallow down emotion and continue onwards. It broke his heart, really. . . to know that even now, even so far into their relationship — the other man still felt the need to hold back. Felt like he couldn't be completely vulnerable even when it was just them. Not that Steven could blame him, nor did he want to force him to let it all out. However maybe he could encourage it, in a way? Let Marc know it was fine, it was safe to do. So Steven shifted a little then. Carefully, like working with an animal that might spook at the smallest little movement. Shuffled until they were hip-to-hip. Until he could take their clasped hands and hold them in his own lap. Until he could reach with his free hand and sort of gently guide Marc into leaning over and maybe resting in against his shoulder. Small little nudges to put the other man into a position he would find comfortable and comforting at the same time.

" Sure, yeah. . . maybe you could've been honest. Might have made some things a bit easier, but I don't blame you for keeping it hidden, love. Don't blame you at all for wanting that escape. Maybe I didn't know it back then — but I'm glad now that I did that for you, y'know? " Steven meant it, truly and honestly. Smiled over at Marc to show as much, even. Let his thumb brush over Marc's hand in a manner he hoped got his point across. " You did things to help us as a system. That's okay. I didn't — at first I didn't understand that. I was so bloody mad about everything, but. . . I get it now. Got it in the Duat. I understand it, and I think it was for the best. "

To call Sam some kind of party animal would definitely be a little wrong. Sure, he could get down with one — more times than not after a venue they booked and they decided to go out and celebrate he was there, 100%! However raging house parties? Not exactly his vibe. What was his vibe, however, was any chance he got to hang out with Seb. didn't matter when or where, he'd agree to that opportunity in a heartbeat. Which is how he now ended up cramped to hell and back in some dusty coat closet. The entire wardrobe inside smelled like bad Axe body spray and cigarettes. Thankfully one of those scents he was used to enough that it didn't exactly bother him too much. They were shoved as far to the back as they could be, items and clothing around them to mask the fact yeah, to grown ass men were inside. It was kinda nerve wracking? Maybe a little exciting, in that adrenaline pumping kinda way.

" Is it a bad time to tell you I'm claustrophobic? " Sam was mostly joking there, grinning a little even if Sebastian wouldn't be able to see it in the dark of the closet.

"---It's a pretty piece of land you're trying to score there, isn't it."

Abel grit his teeth slightly, but then sighed, relaxed himself. Relaxed shoulders and relaxed his mind slightly. It wasn't like William was taunting him and he had to realize this. The other man, in fact, seemed much kinder than he had expected. He'd gone as far as to assume he'd be dealing with the same, for lack of better word — bullshit he'd dealt with at the last stop he'd made. "A pretty piece of land is an understatement. Like you said — by the river, many tanks and some even still filled from a previous owner. It's good land at a good price." It just so happened it was a price that, while Abel could afford on paper and in down payment. . . that was as far as his funding had taken him. In the world of business you needed that upper hand and Abel was grasping onto it with all his damn might. Holding on with everything he had, even when that everything was so little now. If he did not, he was done for. Done as a businessman, done as a property owner. Done as a husband, if he were to make the smallest wrong move. Dark eyes watched the hand elegantly press into the intercom. He would deny the coffee, but the last thing he needed was to come off as rude when attempting something like this. So instead he nodded his thanks, cleared his throat, shifted in place to get a bit more comfortable. Then came the real question — the loan amount. Abel should have probably lead with it, but doing so last visit had gotten him laughed at right to his face. So now he licked over lips, set his shoulders. Put on a confidence he had to feel. Put on an air of authority he had to show if he wanted to be seen the way he was supposed to be seen. Like a man who knew what he was doing, what he wanted, and who he wanted it from. "It would be as — close to one-hundred thousand as I could possibly get." A lot. A chunk. More money than some people saw in a year if they were so unlucky. Abel knew he was fishing for more than he should rightfully ask anyone in this economy, but William was one of the higher stakes companies. He was Abel's last hope. It was right after he stated this, in an awkward silence, that the poor secretary waltzed in with that coffee for the both of them. Abel cleared this throat, took it when she brought it over. Bowed his head in thanks and decided to take a long sip even as it scorched his tongue. Just a means of distraction.

Toshinori wasn't sure he quite got that saying -- the one about bingo cards or bucket lists. Either way, what was not on his, was to feel the warm, persistent smack of lips right against the sensitivity of his temple. The kiss was something very much Mic-coded, which made sense considering who had given him the smooch in the first place. Just another day woth his rambunctious coworker, he thought. Granted his cheeks did begin to go a light shade of pink, and Toshinori did have to try and laugh off that sensation entirely lest he looked like a teenager getting their first kiss. Not his first, no, but the first in what seemed like a very. . . very long time.

"Should I, uhm -- even bother to ask what exactly that was for. . ?" A curious kind of question, and one the older blonde wasn't entirely sure he'd get a full answer to considering who he was asking. Yamada always had a way about himself that Toshinori just could not place his finger on. Never knowing what to expect from the other man,