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[Unfortunately, now that the recode is in? He's only more confused. Loki hasn't been stirring up much of anything besides a bad fashion sense and some theories that even Delta knows are crackpot. It's a good thing he's good at math or Delta probably wouldn't get along with him at all.]

I realize they are hardly just, but they should not punish Loki for Thor's words and actions.

...Thor didn't do much talking. He smashed Alpha's hand. Loki did the talking.

[ A beat, a moment where he goes horribly quiet, scrabbling around in his brain. Has he felt weird? He's got the recordings, he can check, maybe Delta didn't see the feed maybe he's just having a hard time rmemberin details through the migraine. Maybe maybe maybe. ]

Delta...you saw the duel, right?

Yes. I watched the broadcast. [Which was posted by...probably Thor, right? Although he frowns, because Thor really doesn't seem to be the tech-savvy type. But then, Loki did say their culture was much more advanced. Maybe 'not tech-savvy' to Thor just means he doesn't know runic math.]

Loki was there [wearing some ridiculous getup, as usual] but he did not speak.

...It's been a long day. I'm gonna. No. Nope. Not dealing with this right now. In the morning I'll show you the recording I have of the broadcast and we'll talk but I'm pretty sure one of us got our heads fucked with and, thank god, it wasn't me. [ He rolls away to lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. A memory push went out and he's...fine? He's fine. Delta isn't.

That makes something spikey and rage ridden coil in his stomach. They've fucked with Delta. They'll pay for it later. ]

[He's not the only one to feel angry. A flash of rage--unfamiliar, but not unrecognizable--goes through Delta at that. How dare they? Memories about one of his only friends? And if they'd changed that, what else--

No. No, York's right, now is not the time, not when he's dreadfully low on sleep like this, but he can't exactly relax right away with that, can he?]

I will need to review all network activity recently to see what conflicts. [And what about things that weren't recorded? Are his real memories of Loki permanently corrupted?

Delta curls up into himself, anger already gone and fear in its place. Corrupted data is a sure sign of rampancy.]

We'll fix it.

[ He rubs a hand up and down Delta's arm, sliding the feed open so he can feel the thrum of York's mind already working the angles. All the shit he records from the network, all the recordings from his eye that he backs up. Everything he can verify for Delta? He's going to. They'll crack this. Last time they hadn't been expecting it.

Now? Now they know what to look for. ]

You're fine, D. You're solid.

[And in return York will get Delta's memory of the duel--the very altered version, with Loki in the background and wearing something that would have made a clown cringe, and Thor giving an entirely-too-elegant speech. It's harder for them to rewrite Delta's emotional memory with any accuracy--Loki is still his friend, that much hasn't changed, but he seems to be a lot more...well, awkward and dorky, not the Silvertongue of legend.]

I need to determine a way to prevent this from happening again.

[ What the fuck is the thing Loki wearing even. What is that speech. What is this whole memory. Why does he smell honey?

That. That's fucking WEIRD is what it is and it makes him twitch because this. This is the same too real too detailed fuckery that covered his memories of the old alpha.

This is bullshit.

This will not stand. ]

Once Loki's got his head on straight we'll get you, him, and Tony together to bang out some kind of code.

[Look at what a good friend Delta is to like Loki even though he's weird as fuck. Then again, given his decidedly non-social background, it's probably affecting him less than it would someone who actually cares about these things (say, the aforementioned Tony).

Still, Delta takes a couple deep breaths to calm himself down and tries focusing on something nice and constant and comforting instead. Smooth numbers take over Delta's end of the feed, though he tries to keep it more or less to himself.]

Yes. If they can alter my memories of him--

[They could alter his memories of York, and that's something Delta will not stand for.]

For now. They can alter them for now. And it's not consistent. Last time they did one of these I had a migraine like a sonovabitch and then the next day didn't remember the old Alpha, Lucas Bell. It's why I record everything.

[ He rolls back over to curl around Delta, latching on to that steady stream of numbers. It's cool and comforting and grounding. ]

You'd know they were wrong. You know me, D. They can't change that.

[Delta's not so certain of that, not at all. They need to prevent this in the future.

...Okay, yes, he'd known that memory rewrites were a thing here, but now it's personal. The stream of numbers falters for a few moments before he focuses, repeating calculations he's done thousands of times before. The one thing they can't change is math, he knows that with an absolute certaintly, so he's clinging to that.]

They won't take you away from me.

[ The sudden stutter and stop is- different. Delta usually doesn't quit until he's worked out the equation all the way to the end but-

It's not there. Not for long, anyway. It starts up again, twice as fast and twice as determined. ]

It's a coding thing. We get you a way to work on the software, you can crack the code and fix it. I know you can.

[That, if nothing else, should show how very disturbed Delta is about this. Yes, of course it's coming on top of a very long few days. Yes, he's also displaying physical signs, like curling up in a tense little ball, but York can help with that much, and if Delta tries to focus just on that whle running the equations, it's not so bad.

It's still bad, just not as bad.]

You truly believe that, even though their resources are greater?

Of course I do. They don't have you.

[ Delta, when he's in the zone? Can crank through anything given time and patience. The trick is getting him to a place where he's got both. That's a question of getting him relaxed enough to sleep now and York has a handful of vague ideas all centered around massaging his ribs and matching his breath. ]

We get you rested up, get Loki calmed down and then Team Green can knock it out.

[Okay, that at least gets a small smile out of him. So he'd let that name slip, had he?]

I admit the name makes more sense if he does in fact wear green.

[Keep thinking of equations until his emotions are calmed. Keep focusing on York's physical ministrations until he's calm physically. It will probably work - like Delta with a problem, York only needs time and patience.]

He does. He wears it really well.

[ Bit by bit Delta seems to unknot. There's still a tension he can't quite banish thrumming through him- both of them. Post op hormones running wild. Even if Delta wasn't in the field with him he needs rest and-

It couldn't hurt, could it? He sends a little mental nudge to D, a flicker flash of his mouth on Delta's neck, his hands on bare skin, just to see how it'd be received. ]

[He is relaxing more, little by little, and York is helping quite a lot with that. And, well, given that it's York, the next suggestion probably shouldn't surprise him--and yet it does, enough to let him stop the equations after finishing only a small part. And yet--despite what had happened between them on Solstice, nothing else had since. He knew he hadn't imagined it, but then, they hadn't really talked about it either so Delta had assumed it was a fluke, a one-time special occasion.

It would, he admits in the split second before responding emphatically in the positive, provide a welcome distraction.]

Please.

[ That please is all he needs, nosing against Delta's neck to kiss just under his jaw. This will be good for both of them. Delta has been- while not emphatically off limits something he needed to roll around in his head. As a regular thing? probably not going to happen. But now and then when they're both so wound up and need it-

Then it's fine. Maybe. If they had to make rules.

His hands slide from rubbing at his ribs to his chest, smoothing over narrow pectorals, thumbs smoothing over his nipples. Bring him up slow, bring him up easy. ]

[All other considerations aside--and, frankly, there are a lot of other considerations, most of which have to do with his rather guilty dependence on York in the first place--how is he supposed to complete his homework assignment of discovering his own preferences without any help from anyone else? This--

Delta sighs as York's movements begin to go from mere comforting gestures into something a little difference. If he can try not to think for a little while, maybe he'll be able to relax enough to sleep. And if there's a better way to stop thinking for a little while, well, this one at least has the benefit of being immediate and useful.]

[ They'll have to set a time aside for Delta. An hour alone with porn and lotion or. Something. Right now that's not important. Getting him to stop thinking, shutting off that line of equations and code in the back of his mind? That's the goal.

Exhausted but sober he's less fumbling and far, far more sure. He keeps his touch light until Delta's panting, arching, before pinching and twisting them into proper, full on pink firmness. ]

[And it's not even the lines of code, the mathematical equations, that are the problem--it's whats causing them to be necessary that's the problem, and Delta gladly throws himself into sensation to try and rid himself of it. There's a different thrill this time than before, not being high on alcohol and party atmosphere and warm from the sauna (a mental image Delta catches before it slips away, and the memory of York arching and whimpering under his own touch makes him squirm just a little). This is their own house, their own bed--and with that thought comes the need to be quiet, not that the others haven't already collapsed from the long day. He digs his fingers into the sheets as York's touch goes from light to firm, pinching for that little bit of pain to mix in with the pleasure. Yes, his mind says, echoed softly by his voice, his legs beginning to rub up a little against York's. Not twining them together, just that little extra bit of friction, of contact, of responding in a nonverbal way.]

I've had this room soundproofed for months.

[ He sends along, nipping at the side of Delta's neck. Remembering everything that had him shuddering before. The toy- he doesn't have that now. Just his hands and his mouth and his mind, but that's plenty with how they're twined so tightly together. He remembers vividly partners he'd had in the past. How they'd been writhing and gasping under his hands, under his tongue. Shoots those images along while he works him up slow and gentle.

One hand glides down Delta's sternum to rest flat against his abdomen, tugging up the hem of his shirt to pet at perfect, pale skin. ]

[Well. He should have assumed that, shouldn't he? Delta finds himself laughing somewhat breathlessly, keeping one hand tangledin the sheets but reaching up with the other to cup the side of York's head, fingers in his hair and palm against his cheek.]

That may be a very good thing.

[Is he asking York to make him moan? Maybe. All Delta knows for sure is that this is definitely heading in a direction he's liking.]

Mhmm.

[ One of his hands pulls free and lifts over Delta's shoulder so he could lean in and lick at his fingertips. The visual is there for D to consider if he wants, not that it's the most important part. What's important is tugging Delta's shirt up and getting those spit slick fingertips rolling along his chest, teasing at his nipples properly. There is some lubricant for the handjob in the nightstand that he'll reach for, but at the moment? Not important.

Getting Delta to whimper, that's important. ]

[The visual is most certainly there, and Delta swallows with a suddenly dry throat to consider it. He does have some idea what that tongue and those fingers can do, after all, and the thought that he'll be on the receiving end of it soon enough has his heart rate rapidly climbing.

Shirt divested, he's getting more into the spirit of it now, neatly banishing his previous thoughts and focusing on now, focusing on York's bulk above him, chest muscles tensing at the sudden chill of wet fingers and then beginning to moan encouragement as York gets a proper grip on his stiff nipples. At this rate it won't be long at all before his pants feel a little too confined for comfort.]

action; Day 138, late evening

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