They've been happening all over Oldtown. And in some of the other cities, too. That doesn't look like a lot of method.
[ but hey, he's always game to buy into a conspiracy.
meanwhile, i can't believe they've been in one another's personal space for like ten tags and they're still talking plot, these motherfuckers. ]
Can you get any records from the Company? If we could see when people started getting called in, we'd know if they started mobilising before or after the mobs got started.
[ especially when he's been staring intensely at keith's face the entire time.
from like inches away. ]
. . . I'll get a friend to look into it. He's already working on what he can to bring the fighting to a standstill at least. Until we think of another strategy.
[ they did go from having keith wrapped around him to -- this.
which might go some way to explaining the way his eyes drop to keith's mouth when he lingers, when they don't immediately pull away to remain in their little boxes of personal space. ]
. . . he's an admin, so he's got a bit more leverage.
At least, when it comes to directing our men out of a fight.
and they're doing so well actually, working into a partnership that doesn't feel all too new, that isn't punctuated with a slight surprise that they mesh at all. keith's precocious, and hot wires cars to get around, and maybe he should be impressed, or maybe he should be worried.
he shouldn't be spending so much time, trying to come up with excuses to kiss him. ]
Then let's . . . figure something out.
[ but that's the thing about good intentions. he's already craning over the map before he's thought of one, his fingers trailing light over keith's jaw, his eyes flicking up to keith's expression for any signs of a no.
at least, right before he cants his head, brushing their mouths together for the first tentative kiss. ]
[ whatever we doing, i guess this wasn't part of it. he'd said it, he'd meant it -- and he means it still, even as his mouth tilts to complete the circuit, drag sparks down his spine. shiro's something he's always known, but this -- this is something else.
it doesn't mean he's taking it any easier.
it's only a slow sort of kiss at first, an ungainly sort of answer with the heel of a hand braced on the compartment between them, the map still splayed over shiro's knees, fingertips prickling bare skin -- and then he's leaning over, angling to take the kiss properly, open and intent, chasing the same rhythm they'd just started to learn over rumpled sheets in a morning-dark bedroom streets back. ]
[ the next breath shudders out of him in something that still feels strangely like relief. his head's still swimming from old dreams and a disorienting old-new loneliness, straddling the threshold between pragmatism and romanticism, wondering if there's any worth in telling keith about something his imagination might've conjured up. at the very least, he thinks, keith might understand where all of this is coming from. maybe it might rationalize the way his fingers tighten, how he's palming keith's face and kissing him like he's about to drown.
but he doesn't tell him anything, doesn't feel like he has to when keith kisses him back, when his mouth opens up and they're both leaning into it, over the compartment, the gears, and the warmth's unfurling in his rib cage, as silly and uncanny as the way it feels when he's fumbling over to take keith's hand.
[ there's a sheer, crystal moment where he doesn't think.
it's just fingertips grazing cheekbone, secondhand warmth and the taste of shiro's breath with adrenaline shivering through his veins in sparks -- all the excuse he needs to dig the heel of his hand against shiro's seat as he leans over to take the kiss properly, an instant, unflinching demand. there's no excuse, and he doesn't need one: here's all the answer he needs, in the turn of shiro's body towards him, the heartbeat thick against his splaying fingers.
the kiss strings out, lingers -- and stops just short of more when he shifts to lean just a little more and his thigh bumps the brake. ]
[ which is probably a vehemence that's a lot harder to shake when it's the right tone of voice, the right amount of tenderness, and his voice is still thickened, caught in his throat as he swallows around the taste still lingering in his mouth.
he's still fighting the urge to lick the salt off of his lips even now -- still fidgeting a little, his hand landing on keith's shoulder, caught in that crucial moment where he could push keith away, or pull him forward, over the stick shift, and onto his lap. his fingers dig in, wrinkling the sleeve of his too big shirt where the collar drapes overlarge along keith's throat. it's -- ridiculous, sitting in a company car with this boy wearing his clothes, and they've only just met, and he's still thinking about what it would be like if he were to nose along his neck, scrape his teeth along that stretch of bare skin, if keith would let him - ]
[ you don't know that. because honestly, how could you know that? and he's sitting there for that split second after keith's clumsy confession, thinking of all the good reasons why he shouldn't indulge in a gut instinct, and looking desperately like he wants to believe himself.
the responsible thing to do, is to take a step back. tell him that by no means should they rush into anything, and that they should ease into it together; that nothing good would come from going into something like this recklessly; that, regardless of the spark, this feeling like he should hang on tightly and never let go (again), they shouldn't do anything that they might look back in regret later.
instead, he's grabbing keith abruptly by his shirt and pulling him back over for a painfully close, wet kiss, his brows drawn together, and his breaths stringing unsteady already. ]
[ the pull startles him -- but reflex kicks in before there's any need for thought: shifting in his seat to take the kiss at just the right angle, his hands settling on shiro's shoulders as his lips part to a ruthless kiss, chasing bruises and the lingering flicker of rain on his tongue, agonising in how familiar it feels. memory shifts at the back of his head like quicksand, all the fragments of their new-old history rattling echoes: one of these days you're going to fall. instinct's easier -- the surety of sliding a hand to cup shiro's still-damp nape, of breathing into a kiss that's nothing but quiet trust and the satisfaction of having him back.
there's no need to stop. as long as shiro doesn't have doubts, there's no need to slow down at all. ]
[ well, he definitely could've been a little nicer about it.
but he's inhaling sharply through his nose, and keith's not pulling away, throwing a hand over the back of his neck and pressed so close, it almost aches. it throbs along his lip, a feeling that thrums in the odd shape of his teeth, but the pain's of no concern when keith's yielding, yielding still, canting his head and breathing out in a sigh that rings faintly of relief.
even with the rain on him, he still carries a warm scent -- the desert wind, or the smoke from a crash, or the dust from a lone cabin on the outskirts of nowhere, and it's familiar, it's just like a dream come true. more than anything, it does feel like them, feels a little less like a bad idea the more that keith leans into him, when his unpracticed mouth and warm tongue don't just make keith stiffen and reconsider, when he's licking into his mouth and it doesn't feel so weird as it does new. nothing that he remembers, and yet everything he wants, at least, for right now. ]
[ it isn't easy -- they're fumbling in the front-seat of an unfamiliar car, windows filmy with the heat of them, with a brake that juts and holds its stiff barrier against him every time he forgets and starts to tilt onto a knee, to push shiro's shoulder back against the seat, skimming just short of bumping his head into the low ceiling. but it feels easier than anything else that's surfaced out of oldtown streets lately, jobs and fevers and riots alike. he knows this kiss, is the thing -- feels its brightness like a brand carried out from the morning darkness, knows the moment to tilt his head just to match shiro's angle, the taste of his mouth, the way the lazy curl of his tongue starts to shiver, at last, into a guttering heat.
but that still leaves him craning his neck to take it, thumb smoothing over the stiff arch of shiro's neck. the kiss breaks, if only for an instant - ]
Can I -
[ a little stiffly, slow and uncharacteristically clumsy as one leg shifts to swing over the brake and sink a knee between shiro's thighs, waiting to be stopped. ]
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If only we had some kind of hint as to which side's making the move.
Then maybe we can better redirect our efforts to putting a stop to these mobs before they get out of hand.
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[ but hey, he's always game to buy into a conspiracy.
meanwhile, i can't believe they've been in one another's personal space for like ten tags and they're still talking plot, these motherfuckers. ]
Can you get any records from the Company? If we could see when people started getting called in, we'd know if they started mobilising before or after the mobs got started.
no subject
from like inches away. ]
. . . I'll get a friend to look into it. He's already working on what he can to bring the fighting to a standstill at least. Until we think of another strategy.
no subject
[ exactly what kind of friends does a driver have. <-- a thought that he should be thinking.
only shiro is very close. ]
. . . we don't even know where the mobs're coming from yet.
no subject
which might go some way to explaining the way his eyes drop to keith's mouth when he lingers, when they don't immediately pull away to remain in their little boxes of personal space. ]
. . . he's an admin, so he's got a bit more leverage.
At least, when it comes to directing our men out of a fight.
no subject
[ but the tone's too soft for the words, eyes lidding just a little with a separate train of thought. ]
If the Company wants people taken out, they're gonna notice that he's getting in the way. He's just buying time.
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all right. maybe he's not really thinking about the mobs when he asks - ]
What do you think we should do?
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[ a swallow, thick and felt. ]
The orders. After that, we can figure out what they want. Right now, we don't know. . .
[ but the word's twisting, slipping, lost. mint-and-coffee's a flicker on his tongue; his gaze's clinging to shiro's mouth.
what was he saying? ]
Anything.
no subject
and they're doing so well actually, working into a partnership that doesn't feel all too new, that isn't punctuated with a slight surprise that they mesh at all. keith's precocious, and hot wires cars to get around, and maybe he should be impressed, or maybe he should be worried.
he shouldn't be spending so much time, trying to come up with excuses to kiss him. ]
Then let's . . . figure something out.
[ but that's the thing about good intentions. he's already craning over the map before he's thought of one, his fingers trailing light over keith's jaw, his eyes flicking up to keith's expression for any signs of a no.
at least, right before he cants his head, brushing their mouths together for the first tentative kiss. ]
no subject
it doesn't mean he's taking it any easier.
it's only a slow sort of kiss at first, an ungainly sort of answer with the heel of a hand braced on the compartment between them, the map still splayed over shiro's knees, fingertips prickling bare skin -- and then he's leaning over, angling to take the kiss properly, open and intent, chasing the same rhythm they'd just started to learn over rumpled sheets in a morning-dark bedroom streets back. ]
no subject
but he doesn't tell him anything, doesn't feel like he has to when keith kisses him back, when his mouth opens up and they're both leaning into it, over the compartment, the gears, and the warmth's unfurling in his rib cage, as silly and uncanny as the way it feels when he's fumbling over to take keith's hand.
i've got you, he thinks, and means it. ]
no subject
it's just fingertips grazing cheekbone, secondhand warmth and the taste of shiro's breath with adrenaline shivering through his veins in sparks -- all the excuse he needs to dig the heel of his hand against shiro's seat as he leans over to take the kiss properly, an instant, unflinching demand. there's no excuse, and he doesn't need one: here's all the answer he needs, in the turn of shiro's body towards him, the heartbeat thick against his splaying fingers.
the kiss strings out, lingers -- and stops just short of more when he shifts to lean just a little more and his thigh bumps the brake. ]
no subject
especially when keith's halfway over the console by the time he's gotten his tongue out of his mouth. ]
Wait.
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[ ???????????? at least it only takes him a blink to tense back up. ]
What's wrong?
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[ . . . probably going too quickly into this, and it should've been my responsibility to stop you.
. . . confused, and if anything comes up, i don't want you to think i used this time to take advantage of you.
. . . going to give me a semi and i really am not prepared to deal with the potential embarrassment. ]
. . . I just don't want you to walk out of this car feeling more disoriented than before.
no subject
I'm pretty sure kissing isn't supposed to make you nauseous.
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wait. ]
Was it that bad just now?
no subject
[ which is probably a vehemence that's a lot harder to shake when it's the right tone of voice, the right amount of tenderness, and his voice is still thickened, caught in his throat as he swallows around the taste still lingering in his mouth.
he's still fighting the urge to lick the salt off of his lips even now -- still fidgeting a little, his hand landing on keith's shoulder, caught in that crucial moment where he could push keith away, or pull him forward, over the stick shift, and onto his lap. his fingers dig in, wrinkling the sleeve of his too big shirt where the collar drapes overlarge along keith's throat. it's -- ridiculous, sitting in a company car with this boy wearing his clothes, and they've only just met, and he's still thinking about what it would be like if he were to nose along his neck, scrape his teeth along that stretch of bare skin, if keith would let him - ]
It was . . . good.
[ good; better than he is eloquent. ]
Really good.
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[ guess whose monofocus has forgotten about the company car bit of this trip. ]
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[ but maybe that's not the right thing to admit. in any case, this isn't the best time to realize he doesn't want to lie to a face like that. ]
. . . but say our memories come back. If that's what they really are.
You don't remember doing anything like this with me.
no subject
[ but, punctuation to a headlong confession, leaving silence to spin in the air between them.
a slow, slow breath, but his gaze holds steady. ]
This part -- just feels like us.
no subject
the responsible thing to do, is to take a step back. tell him that by no means should they rush into anything, and that they should ease into it together; that nothing good would come from going into something like this recklessly; that, regardless of the spark, this feeling like he should hang on tightly and never let go (again), they shouldn't do anything that they might look back in regret later.
instead, he's grabbing keith abruptly by his shirt and pulling him back over for a painfully close, wet kiss, his brows drawn together, and his breaths stringing unsteady already. ]
no subject
there's no need to stop. as long as shiro doesn't have doubts, there's no need to slow down at all. ]
no subject
but he's inhaling sharply through his nose, and keith's not pulling away, throwing a hand over the back of his neck and pressed so close, it almost aches. it throbs along his lip, a feeling that thrums in the odd shape of his teeth, but the pain's of no concern when keith's yielding, yielding still, canting his head and breathing out in a sigh that rings faintly of relief.
even with the rain on him, he still carries a warm scent -- the desert wind, or the smoke from a crash, or the dust from a lone cabin on the outskirts of nowhere, and it's familiar, it's just like a dream come true. more than anything, it does feel like them, feels a little less like a bad idea the more that keith leans into him, when his unpracticed mouth and warm tongue don't just make keith stiffen and reconsider, when he's licking into his mouth and it doesn't feel so weird as it does new. nothing that he remembers, and yet everything he wants, at least, for right now. ]
no subject
but that still leaves him craning his neck to take it, thumb smoothing over the stiff arch of shiro's neck. the kiss breaks, if only for an instant - ]
Can I -
[ a little stiffly, slow and uncharacteristically clumsy as one leg shifts to swing over the brake and sink a knee between shiro's thighs, waiting to be stopped. ]