Voicemail 2.0

[goddamngrenades]

You have reached the voice mail system of Officer Taylor Murray.

When you are finished recording, just hang up or press pound for more options.

To request a locksmith or report a crime, press one.

To hear these options in Spanish, press dos.

To send a verbal confirmation of a written command, press three.

To send a written confirmation of a verbal command, press four.

For delivery options, press five.

To page this person, press six.

To locate your nearest operator, press seven.

To leave a call back number, press eight.

To repeat this message, press nine.

Press zero for other options.

To mark this message as urgent, press eleven.

Thank you for calling, have a nice day.

BEEP


Comments

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[tactical_alert]

Malcolm stares. It's not a straight up cigarette, but it's close. Is...he even allowed to do that in front of a hospital?

Is this his fault?

Another twitch of a smile. "Hiding a smoking habit from me?"

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[goddamngrenades]

"I quit 'bout a year ago." He shrugs, tipping his head back to blow out a stream of smoke. "Can't remember for the life of me why."

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[tactical_alert]

"Healthier lifestyle. Nurse might come say something to you." As a warning. Maybe. ...Smells kind of sweet and not like secondhand smoke, though.

Re: Day 222 - afternoon - action

[goddamngrenades]

"Of everything on this rock I don't think my bad habits are gonna be what kills me." He snorts a laugh, taking another drag.

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[tactical_alert]

"Just for saying that, you'll live long enough for a little lung cancer to take you out." Is that funny? It sounds funny to him, so he doesn't mind laughing. Be used to his gallows humour.

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[goddamngrenades]

"I thought they cured that here? With their nano injections and biological doohickys." Still he's laughing all the same, something less pained and manic. Something more him. "C'mere."

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[tactical_alert]

He lets out a little hum. He isn't sure; that would be a question for Whiskey. But it wouldn't surprise him.

At the suggestion to come closer, not a thing he's sure he wants lest he body slam his boyfriend through a plate glass window or worse, Malcolm takes a little side step closer. That's about it.

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[goddamngrenades]

"Why so shy, boo? It's just you, me, and the cigarette." And whoever's walking into the hospital lobby but hey, details. Nevermind them, nevermind what happened to bring them here, nevermind compliance. Malcolm's gotten to the point that he knows when it's happening- York can't imagine how frustrating that must be.

But what he can imagine is one of his favorite tricks with a pretty person and a cigarette. If Mal gets close enough.

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[tactical_alert]

Is he being deliberately obtuse? Hard to say with York. First it's not true, they're hardly alone; second that isn't the point; third he should damn well know what the point is.

Fight that good old compliance smile. Although he's really starting to think maybe it would just be better to let it happen. He'll be happier and not nearly so exhausted.

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[goddamngrenades]

Communication time, clearly. "This." He flicks the end of the cigarette that doesn't need flicking since there's no ash involved. "Is to help my nerves and help me relax."

Not the best reason to take up the habit but hey, not the worst either.

"I'd like to help you do the same. If you want. No pressure." Because god knows insinuating that he might possibly be disappointed in anything ever kicks up that damn compliance thing and- he's honestly not. Hasn't been. Disappointed in Malcolm.

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[tactical_alert]

"I doubt you'll find many smokers who say it's for anything else." He gives the not-cigarette an eyeballing. "You want me to smoke?"

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[goddamngrenades]

"I was going to be smooth and shotgun you some but you've kinda stalled my groove here." Said with a laugh because no, no groove is not killed, groove is very much on. "So I wanted to kiss you. Basically."

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[tactical_alert]

"...Shotgun," he echoes plainly. "Now isn't...a very good time."

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[goddamngrenades]

"Noted." He shrugs and takes another drag, kicking himself for the suggestion. Right. Timing. His is for shit.

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[tactical_alert]

...Damn it, screwing up again. Eternally screwing up. This will never be un-screwed. Why does York stick around? What's the point? It's never the right time. Something's always happening. Breathe. Breathe. For fuck's sake, inhale.

To hell with it. What if this is the last time? After attempting to stall that anxiety, he leans up to peck York on the cheek.

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[goddamngrenades]

"Mal?" Now he's frowning because that face? that is not a good face. He's learned the ticks and tells of Malcolm well enough by now to know that good thoughts never follow that face. "Are you-"

Cheek smooch. It's. Juvenile and sweet and so, so damn brave considering how rare it is for Mal as himself to reach out first. York goes still, smoke curling around their shoulders before he turns his head enough to return the gesture, lips light against Malcolm's cheek.

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[tactical_alert]

Don't call it brave; it's anything but. To him. He tips them closer and goes properly for the lips, something hard and desperate as hands scrabble for him and cling on despite all the stupid little cuts and nicks.

When he pulls away, it's practically by force, a push off and away, gasping for air. He's just gonna...lean against the wall over here and pretend. Pretend something very nice, maybe.

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[goddamngrenades]

"Mal-" And this, this is new. This is desperate and aching and he tries to get an arm around him to hold on and ride it out. Tries to make it easier for Malcolm, tries to make it last but the second he feels that push his arm drops away.

That.

What is he supposed to think about that?

"...so. Smoker's mouth isn't entirely offensive. Good to know."

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[tactical_alert]

It's not funny. It's not fucking funny. His eyes are up as he keeps telling himself to breathe, trying to make sure nothing inadvertently falls from his eyes.

Between heaves of his chest, really should get steady any time now, that would be nice thank you very much, he manages to get out, "Tastes like vanilla."

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[goddamngrenades]

"That is the flavor cartridge." He tucks the cylinder back in his pocket, reaching over hesitantly to curl his fingers around Malcolm's.

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[tactical_alert]

A jerky nod. Hears him. He hears York. He won't say anything more, though, just--flee? No, no, that sounds cowardly. He'll go back inside and find a seat to curl up very tightly in. Should've brought his other face. This is an embarrassment. He's an embarrassment.

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[goddamngrenades]

Right. He'll give mal a little space. Finish the cartridge. Close it up and walk- oh right leg. Um. Limp back in until he can find the tiny ball that is his boo. Jesus how does the man make himself so damn small? Being short helps, he figures, but this?

Kneeling hurts, but he does it anyway. Winds his hands around his shoulders to give them a squeeze. "Hey- it's okay."

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[tactical_alert]

This is fucking embarrassing to be in a hospital waiting room with his face tucked against his knees, scratch scratching away at whatever inhuman parts of him he can get to through his clothes. At least when he was in the brig for betraying and hurting people he cared about, he'd been mostly alone.

The touch makes him jerk. An equally jerky motion to the chair beside him. York should be sitting. Why isn't he sitting? He's hurt. Doesn't that hurt his leg?

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[goddamngrenades]

"Don't scratch- didn't you ever have chicken pox? Scratching'll make it worse." Light. Light and as kind as he can manage and sure, he'll sit. Sit and sling an arm around Malcolm's shoulders, try to tuck him up against his side, lips pressed to his temple. "I got you."

Day 222 - afternoon - action

[tactical_alert]

He attempts to shrink even further in. Why is York insisting on crowding him all the time? Doesn't he have any concept of space? Scratch scratch scratch. Where are the damn doctors? Someone needs to patch York up. York needs help.