Smut, Gen, Angst, Fluff, Anything, Everything. PFL era, Post war, Pre Canon, AU, ETC, Full starter or pic prompt, drop it like it's hot Brackets or Prose whatever you're comfortable with Tag and go!
Carolina snorts at the comment about foreplay, but they can all see how easily it could go that way. None of them have normal reactions to things, and fighting might as well be dancing to them.
Wash winces. "I betrayed them. I deserve it." They'd trusted him and he'd thrown that away.
They follow him out, and there's that automatic calculation when they see the guard, how easy it would be to take the place down from inside now they were here. Wash brushes his hand against York's fingers to dispel it.
York twists his hand enough to curl his fingers around Wash's, giving them a squeeze. After half a second he offers the same grounding contact to Carolina before walking them out to the training field.
As he'd said- there are the kids. Arms crossed, eyes narrowed, Jensen looking more disappointed than angry, Bitters glaring with all his bitter heart. "Right. So. Hand to hand-"
"You're not even gonna EXPLAIN?" Palomo bursts out, Andersmith shushing him.
"Brainwashing is a hell of a thing kids." York quips, brows lifted. That doesn't seem to be enough from how they shake their heads, muttering to each other. "AI Implantation requires wires to be surgically inserted into your brain. Even when the AI's gone- the hardware's still there. Apply voltage to the wires and-"
It should be awkward. They're holding hands like children needing to be guided where they're going. But really it just feels nice, like everything might be okay now, somehow.
It's a hope that's dashed as soon as they step into the training room and they're confronted with the kids. Carolina blinks, but she never met the rebels. Wash just wants to hide behind York and pretend he isn't here. He remembers them doing everything they could to get him and York together, even making them a cake from their meagre rations.
"I-" he begins, but York speaks for him and for once he doesn't mind. He can't help a mindless reach for the back of his neck, rubbing over the metal embedded in the base of his skull.
"No problem. Now-" It's easy to fall into the patter and bark of instruction, running Carolina and Wash through grapples, throws, and ways to disengage, to break holds, or counter throws. Carolina- well. She's always on point, always militant, gets up from when she's tossed and has a little fun throwing York's ass around.
Wash? Does as he's told. Helps York up from the mat, takes the falls and-
Well.
After about an hour it's hard to pin him and look down and not think. Things.
This is familiar and that makes it easier. He knows how to be thrown without damage, how to fall and how to break holds. They're muscle memory by now, so engrained he doesn't even have to think. And he desperately needs to not think right now. Watching Carolina and York move is always incredible to see. They'd been the top ranked on the leaderboard for a reason, and Wash had never quite been up to their level with CQC.
He falls where he's thrown, York pins him, body pressed against his. And it's electric for a moment. He sucks in a breath, tongue flicking out over his lips as he stares up at York. It's deja vu, going right back to the rebel base the first time they'd kissed.
Carolina's off to one side observing and York? Can feel the heat of her eyes licking down his spine. The moment with Wash stretches and crackles and strains till Andersmith clears his throat and even then?
"Everyone take five." A beat as he lets more of his weight settle on Wash. "Make that thirty. Take thirty."
"Seriously-" Bitters starts, only to get jerked back by Jensen. "Thirty sir, understood!"
"Yeah they're still a little pissed." York braces his hands on either side of Wash's face, leaning down to bring their lips together. Last time, this time- it doesn't matter. All that matters is that he's here, he's solid- and they've got a plan. "I got you, though. Both of you. So don't worry, ok?"
"They're right to be," Wash says. He lets out a soft noise when York leans down to kiss him, warmth flaring in his chest. It just feels right, and it's something he'd thought he'd never get again so he savours the feeling. "Of course I worry."
"They'll get over it." He pulls himself up, tugging Wash along. Carolina paints herself along his back as soon as he's standing and, um. Hi? Hi. "...Right this has become foreplay, hasn't it?"
Wash lets himself be pulled up, and plasters himself against York's side at the same time as Carolina presses up behind him. They're remarkably in tune when they want to be, and York is something they're united on.
Carolina leans in and brushes her lips against his ear. "Just a bit."
"We're gonna have to work on that." A little, maybe, as he buries his face in the side of Wash's neck, pressing a soft kiss there. Treating him gently after all the rough pinning and bruising of the session. "Gotta make these lessons last longer than an hour, you know."
"You've never heard of an afternoon quickie?" He tips his head back enough to look Wash in the eyes, brows lifted. "We'll be back out for range time and knife work after we eat and do whatever."
Hanging out in the mess isn't really an option at the moment.
Wash shakes his head. "Never had time. I was on the front lines and then in the Project..." Well, York knew what that was like. "And afterwards... just never came up." He hadn't really thought about sex until York had shown up. It had seemed so unimportant.
"That is a little sad, buddy." Walking back to their rooms when them tangled up with him isn't easy- but it's a challenge he's happy to face. Nevermind the looks the guards give him, they're just jealous because York? Has all of them all to himself.
Even if he's of two minds. One half of him does wanna pin and bite and take-
The other wants to not encourage work time becoming fuck time and instead just curl up with them both for awhile, play with their hair, and tell them he's glad they're working with him. Decisions decisions.
"It's not sad!" Wash protests. "I just... always had more important things to do. Like not dying. And before Freelancer I never liked anyone enough." He'd got on with the other soldiers he'd worked with, but not enough to want to fuck them.
He stays leaned up against York's side though as they make their way back to the room. He kicks the door closed once they're inside and leans back against it. Being watched constantly is not fun. He's tired of it. Even at the worst times with Charon, the rebels had been some form of escape.
"Less the 'not fucking' thing and more the self induced isolation thing. It kinda happens when you're trying not to die." He's been there, done that, didn't much like it. But now they're here and they got a bed and- okay. Second choice is the winner here. He herds them both in, flips up the comforter and toes off his shoes, tugging them to the bed.
it takes a little bit to get situated, tucking Wash in the middle for now, he and Carolina curled up on either side. "There we go."
Okay, he can't actually argue with that. "It's easier," he admits. "Just not getting attached to people. Felt safer. Better to squash my feelings." Pretend they weren't there. And if York hadn't got to him, hadn't managed to break him out of that... things would probably a whole lot worse right now. Easier maybe. But probably worse.
He crawls into bed, letting York drag him close, and lets out a pleased sigh when Carolina presses up against him.
"People need people." Even if just the security of knowing another human being is nearby if you need help. Here? they all pull together, tangle in close, arms around waists, faces pressed into hair. Wash tucked up against his chest and a hand on Carolina's hip and it feels...right.
Feels like they were meant to be here. "You got us, now."
It's warm and comfortable. More than he deserves. He never dreamed that this was possible. It doesn't entirely feel real if he's honest. It's going to take some time to sink in.
He presses his face against York's shoulder, feels Carolina's hand in his hair, and lets out a breath. "Yeah. I do." Carolina won't push him to do things for Charon now. York won't let him hide.
"It's gonna be rough, adjusting. But we're not doing it alone." Stepping into a more solid leashership role- being looked to like the kids have been. Ordering shit, bullying those reds and blues into some kind of order-
Agent Fucktruck York, suddenly a hardass. Because he has to be.
Because without that kind of leadership? everyone dies. His people die. Wash and Carolina? Die.
That was something. He wasn't alone anymore. Carolina had always been there but they hadn't exactly supported each other. They'd just worked well together and that had been as much as it was. He'd been scared of her honestly. And now? Now he leans back against her and her grip around him tightens.
"Thank you," he says quietly, mumbling it against York's shoulder.
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Wash winces. "I betrayed them. I deserve it." They'd trusted him and he'd thrown that away.
They follow him out, and there's that automatic calculation when they see the guard, how easy it would be to take the place down from inside now they were here. Wash brushes his hand against York's fingers to dispel it.
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As he'd said- there are the kids. Arms crossed, eyes narrowed, Jensen looking more disappointed than angry, Bitters glaring with all his bitter heart. "Right. So. Hand to hand-"
"You're not even gonna EXPLAIN?" Palomo bursts out, Andersmith shushing him.
"Brainwashing is a hell of a thing kids." York quips, brows lifted. That doesn't seem to be enough from how they shake their heads, muttering to each other. "AI Implantation requires wires to be surgically inserted into your brain. Even when the AI's gone- the hardware's still there. Apply voltage to the wires and-"
"World's worst shock collar." Bitters suddenly looks green.
"That's what I thought. So. Hand to hand-"
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It's a hope that's dashed as soon as they step into the training room and they're confronted with the kids. Carolina blinks, but she never met the rebels. Wash just wants to hide behind York and pretend he isn't here. He remembers them doing everything they could to get him and York together, even making them a cake from their meagre rations.
"I-" he begins, but York speaks for him and for once he doesn't mind. He can't help a mindless reach for the back of his neck, rubbing over the metal embedded in the base of his skull.
"Thanks," he says finally, quiet, to York.
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Wash? Does as he's told. Helps York up from the mat, takes the falls and-
Well.
After about an hour it's hard to pin him and look down and not think. Things.
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He falls where he's thrown, York pins him, body pressed against his. And it's electric for a moment. He sucks in a breath, tongue flicking out over his lips as he stares up at York. It's deja vu, going right back to the rebel base the first time they'd kissed.
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"Everyone take five." A beat as he lets more of his weight settle on Wash. "Make that thirty. Take thirty."
"Seriously-" Bitters starts, only to get jerked back by Jensen. "Thirty sir, understood!"
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It's only when The kids leave that he relaxes, the tension bleeding out of him as he slumps back against the ground. "Don't think they're happy."
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Carolina leans in and brushes her lips against his ear. "Just a bit."
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"Well, we know that you have stamina," Carolina says.
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They did good, they get a reward. That's how he'll frame it.
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Hanging out in the mess isn't really an option at the moment.
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Even if he's of two minds. One half of him does wanna pin and bite and take-
The other wants to not encourage work time becoming fuck time and instead just curl up with them both for awhile, play with their hair, and tell them he's glad they're working with him. Decisions decisions.
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He stays leaned up against York's side though as they make their way back to the room. He kicks the door closed once they're inside and leans back against it. Being watched constantly is not fun. He's tired of it. Even at the worst times with Charon, the rebels had been some form of escape.
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it takes a little bit to get situated, tucking Wash in the middle for now, he and Carolina curled up on either side. "There we go."
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He crawls into bed, letting York drag him close, and lets out a pleased sigh when Carolina presses up against him.
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Feels like they were meant to be here. "You got us, now."
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He presses his face against York's shoulder, feels Carolina's hand in his hair, and lets out a breath. "Yeah. I do." Carolina won't push him to do things for Charon now. York won't let him hide.
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Agent Fucktruck York, suddenly a hardass. Because he has to be.
Because without that kind of leadership? everyone dies. His people die. Wash and Carolina? Die.
He's lost them once. It's never happening again.
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"Thank you," he says quietly, mumbling it against York's shoulder.
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