inbox;

[stressors]

● "Hey, it's Shiro." ●

"Sorry you missed me. Leave me one and I'll call you right back. Thanks."

☏ call. ✉ text. ⌨ video. ☄ action.

code over at pagans

Comments

[stressors]

[ . . . that's one way to break an awkward pause. ]

Then what made you decide to become an agent?

[impulsors]

[ . . . ]

It didn't sound like it'd be like this back then.

[stressors]

[ . . . a little smile. ]

Yeah. I know what that feels like.

[stressors]

Come on.

Let's head to the car.

[impulsors]

Hold on--can I go in these?

[ he is in a stranger's ugliest pseudopyjamas, what the fuck. ]

Did you throw my jacket in there too?

[stressors]

[ you decided on dad shorts, don't you pin this one on me. ]

I'm only patrolling today. We'll be staying in the car.

[ but -- he's already pushing himself off of the bed, and grabbing his jacket from a wall hook to hand it off to keith. ]

. . . but if you'd rather stay here until your clothes are dry, I'd understand.

[impulsors]

That's not what I said.

[ an instant and he's snagging the jacket to slide it onto his own shoulders -- before considering his bare feet, his bony knees. the shorts barely peek out beneath its curving hem. he looks chicken-legged and obscene at the same time. ]

I'll go with you.

[ not that he's not still frowning when his glance flicks back. ]

- just give me a sec.

[ first, a brief darting sidetrip to retrieve something from the shower. ]

[stressors]

Uh.

[ uh, keith had said before. but maybe, at least at the moment, shiro sounds like he means it more.

in any case, it's not much of a view. it shouldn't be, with keith's scrawny frame and rangy muscle. he'd looked small in his shirt and shorts, but watching him walk with his jacket hanging low enough, it almost looks as if - ]

. . . sure.

[ not that keith can hear the affirmative after he's already left the room.

smooth. ]

[impulsors]

[ it doesn't take long, anyway -- a scattering of heartbeats and he's back, hosting up at the drawstrings at his waist in disgruntled tugs. ]

How much do they care if you're late?

[stressors]

. . . I don't think they care at all.

Or at least, not enough to blow me up over it.

[impulsors]

[ then why did they even stop kissing???

mind you, his head snaps up at once. ]

What do you mean, blow you up?

[stressors]

[ because he's only 60% sure tbh ]

. . . maybe I shouldn't joke about that.

[stressors]

. . .

Will you be alright?

[impulsors]

. . . I'm not exactly fireproof--but I know how to duck and roll. You don't have to worry about me.

[ he's already at the windowframe, where he'd kicked off his sopping sneakers, toeing them on again, squelch by squelch. ]

C'mon.

[stressors]

[ oh my god... are they just going to jinx each other into an actual explosion... ]

It really was just a joke.

I was talking about the mobs.

[ but he's already tailing keith out the door... even if he's dallying at its threshold. ]

. . . it's not much of a secret, even if my car's pretty unimpressive. I haven't had anyone try anything yet, but there are a lot of people who know I'm Company out here.

[impulsors]

Doesn't that just mean you could use backup?

[stressors]

I just want to make sure you know what you're getting into.

Just in case.

[impulsors]

I can handle you, Shiro. We'll be fine.

[stressors]

[ . . . ]

You can, huh.

[impulsors]

[ it'd been an old echo, unthinking -- but he's blinking back now in the same old way, bewildered and disgruntled by doubt. ]

What?

[stressors]

[ it isn't that keith says it with enough conviction to convince him.

after all, it's hard to shake the feeling that he's​ believed in him from the very start. i can handle you, and maybe they're the right words to say at the time, something as natural as the way he's reaching out to ruffle keith's mussed hair. ]

Nothing really.

I guess that means I'm counting on you.

[impulsors]

[ ugh. he ducks his head beneath it, brows wrung together for a moment before his grip closes around shiro's wrist. ]

You sound like you're counting on something to go wrong.

[stressors]

I'm not.

[ a touch defensively, perhaps. but he's forcing his hand not to tense -- even if it means it's hanging limp in keith's hard grip. ]

It's a precaution.

Everyone's been jittery and the Company's gone so far as to issue orders to kill anyone who's acting out of line.

[impulsors]

What?

[ yeah, that's definitely not going to get him to let go. ]

Anyone outside of the Company? Or anyone -- in it?

[stressors]

. . . They've taken a certain violent response to the mobs. No mercy, and no opportunity for interrogation.

And disciplinary action for those within ranks is -- par for the course at this point.