goddamngrenades | LEGION INBOX

[ Letting himself in, it all seems as it ever does. His throw in the corner of the couch most often occupied during his time here. And there's York. Taylor. Looking every last bit himself. ]

You're looking well.

[ Raising a brow, Locus lets the door close behind him, before moving inward. ]

You too. [ He rolls himself upright, swinging his legs over to smile up at him. Big and broad and scarred and not that wide eye'd endearing kid he...kissed the crap out of.

Pushing that memory down. ] How you feeling?

[ There's a noncommittal sort of nod there. He's fine, physically. Nothing to complain about. And yet...

Quickly, his gaze flickers upwards once more. ]

Grateful that things are somewhat back to normal.

[ And they can stay that way. Nothing has to change. Change is terrifying, after all. ]

Damn straight. I no longer how to be the responsible one. It really didn't suit me. [ For all that it put him back in that place where he'd been in charge of lives he wasn't ready to slip back into it. This? is easier. ] Gotta say though- tiny you was frigg'n adorable.

Hn.

[ That earns him a small amount of side-eye. ]

I'm not sure I would use quite the same description for your younger self. All things considered.

...Yeah, uh. Have I apologized for that yet? Things got intense not long afterward with the whole. Mind assassin. Thing.

[ He scrubs a hand through his hair, wincing. It...happened and he's not entirely sure how to process it anymore than he's able to process what happened with Gabe in Casbah and that's not a comparison to make. ]

Warning you that I was an asshole and being an asshole at you is very different.

...you regret it, then.

[ It feels like a small puncture in that swell of tension he's got stuck against the inside of his ribs. Oh. Well, see, that's a logical explanation right there. Nothing to get worked up over. ]

I- it's complicated. [ Regret's a complicated word, honestly. ] I'm not proud of a lot of stuff I did when I was that version of me.

I maintain what I said then.

[ Locus's head cocks slightly. ]

You are not a bad person. You were not. You simply sought a way to avoid your grief, as you said. We both happened to be there at the time.

Green eyes and liquor. [ He's a sucker for both. ] And you know. You were- I remembered you being a friend to me. Vaguely, I was half drunk when I popped in. How the hell that worked I don't even know, but...

[ And just as quickly as he'd seized upon the ready explanation in front of him, it slips away. Taylor had known him, at least in part, when he'd decided to 'distract' himself.

He knew for himself, that some of that still lingered. That he'd felt the same way for him then as he did now, though perhaps with some amount of emotional clarity. No paranoia to overcome or emotional scarring to navigate, just the simplicity of liking someone. Wanting them.

Even admitting it had his stomach turning to stone knots. But, perhaps there was a way to know for certain.

As York spoke, Locus takes a step closer. ]

You remembered?

Through a fog of bad choices, grief, and a lot of adrenaline- yeah. Sam, the teen that just joined up and was ready to make all the same mistakes I did. [ And instead of being helpful he...got drunk and did the York Usual. ] I don't get that drunk around people I don't know.

[ and he'd been not Casbah drunk, but pretty damn tipsy. Comfortable enough to do something stupid. He looks back up to Sam, lips quirked in the usual crooked, self depreciating grin. ]

But yeah. I remembered.

[ What does it mean, ultimately? That York had simply turned to a familiar face to bury his sorrow? Or had it been...

He thinks of the vision of Silent Horizon, the feeling of being trapped inside that beast once more, only to have York reach through. He'd kissed him then too, not quite with the same intent but even so.

Something thick and heavy lodges in his throat as his brow furrows. Something like intent settles across his features as he takes another step closer. Close enough now to be most definitely in his space.

Do you know what I remember?

Just a breath away from touching him, head bending low and then...not. His bones felt heavy, frozen in place, as he waited. Breathed and waited for a sign, a reaction, anything at all. ]

[ It's been a mess untangling who he is now from who he was- those actions, thoughts, emotions. Snapshots of his life cut out and shown without context or much consideration to Legion World at large and to Locus in a very real, very intimate way. That night-

He's been wrestling with it all morning. It'd been good, clean (ish) drunken fun with people he liked. People he knew he found pretty when he'd been cocky enough to think they'd want him back and arrogant enough to try to have them, desperate enough for however much or little they were willing to give. Not...not a good look, even if it'd been a good time.

Then the assassin, then the Silent Horizon memory and Felix- the risk of losing Locus. A friend.

Just a friend. ] Uh, Sam?

[ Then why does his heart lodge in his throat as Sam steps in this close? Why do things go fuzzy and soft edged, all adrenaline and an odd tangled ache somewhere in his chest like he hasn't felt since Carolina?

The biggest and reddest flag of them all, that name connected at all to Locus, to Sam and yet there it is. Every parallel, every fucking way he'd tripped into that pattern with someone new, someone that's reaching back and he's-

Locked up entirely without any real way to react to a rather impressive realization of messy emotions and desires he'd been oblivious to in their entirety until now. ]

[ Nothing. This close, but Taylor is frozen to the spot, and it's not acceptance. The realization comes crashing down on him as he draws back, sees the puzzled and startled look on his face, and--

This was a mistake. As he'd suspected from the beginning. He'd misread something, misunderstood, and now here he was, looking the absolute fool for it. ]

I...thought I saw something. In your hair.

[ Is what he ends up muttering in a desperate effort to save face, before backing away entirely and clearing his throat uncomfortably. ]

My apologies.

My- what? [ Not going in for a kiss then? He- what? His mind's still caught on the aborted 'please kiss me' instinct he'd ran past earlier and is doing loops around the 'what the fuck what the fuck' circle that's dipped half in tequila and the feel of Sam's hair in his hands and the bloodslick grime against his lips that had him gagging during the mind assassination thing that went down.

It is a very complicated series of emotions. ]

It's just gel? [ That's all that's ever in it now that he's got access to it again. Right. Shit. Things are the left of normal, return to normal- ]

...do you, uh. Do you want me to make some coffee?

No.

[ Locus has always had a terrible poker face, and just this five minutes, it's obvious he's trying to swallow this unnamed thing back down again. Alas, bitter disappointment is blocking the way. ]

...I should go.

[ In the next breath, he's already turned and moving towards the door. It's not running, he's not running away from this, but...

Some time to compose himself and let the status quo reassert itself would probably be best. ]

[ Oh god that face- there'd been hints of it in baby Sam's face when he'd tried to sneak off in the sober light of the morning, he remembers that, but oh christ is it worse on his grown up counterpart. He's seen Locus angry, seen him frustrated and sad and grumpy and happy but this-

It's like a kick in the ribs and all he knows is that he wants to fix things. Rewind the conversation about five minutes so they can just avoid this topic entirely and be whatever they are to one another. ] Okay-

[ Because he's not that guy. Locus wants and needs space and he's going to be grown up and mature and respect that. He is. ]

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