Hammock
Description: It's been quiet at the Feds base, and Locus takes the time to think on his relationship with Agent Washington while he can. It's good to appreciate the simple things, before they're gone.
A/N: I tried and failed to not think about this prompt for Locington: Hi friends just here to remind you not to imagine your otp on a hammock together. Don't imagine Person B is asleep on Person A's chest and definitely don't imagine Person A with one foot on the floor so they can rock the hammock in hopes of keeping Person B asleep.
Prompt is from here. (Finally learned how to properly link!)
"Don't you think it's sort of redundant that of all the luxuries the Federal Army of Chorus could acquire, it had to be a hammock?" Washington asked, arms crossed as he looked over the newly installed hammock with critical eyes.
"Do you have something against hammocks?" Locus questioned, giving Wash his own questioning look, unable to keep the slight smirk out of his voice.
"No," A beat, then Wash sighed, shaking his head in defeat. "You'll think it's stupid if I tell you." He insisted.
"I promise I won't." Locus replied, watching Wash for a response. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a bit curious of why Wash disliked the hammock.
"Well... okay, but don't laugh!" Wash ordered, before clearing his throat and wringing his hands anxiously. He had a habit of doing that. "Ya see, when was about ten or eleven, my dad got me and my sister a hammock for our bedroom, alright?" Silence, before Locus nodded for Wash to continue. "Okay, so, I knew it was stupid before I even did it, but... my sister was at track practice and my dad was away on business, so I figured I wouldn't get caught. I jumped in it trying to film a vine so I could look cool. Well, I tripped on my skateboard when I was running at it, and half fell half jumped into it. The hammock surprisingly enough didn't break, but I damn near snapped my neck on impact! I've hated hammocks ever since..."
After a few moments, Locus smirked, ruffling Washington's hair playfully. "Don't worry, Agent Washington. I'm sure nothing bad will happen to you if you rest in a hammock again. How about this? Why don't we rest in it together after training tomorrow, that way you won't fall out and hurt yourself. Alright?"
Wash huffed, looking away awkwardly as he thought about it, before looking back to Locus and nodding his head in agreement. "Alright," He said, flashing his partner a small smile. "But only if we're careful."
"We will be," Locus assured him, pressing a quick kiss to Washington's forehead before pulling his helmet back on and walking away. "Come now, we have a sparring match to go to."
"Right behind ya!" Wash promised, dashing after the other man quickly.
The next day, after training, both Locus and Agent Washington found themselves back in the Fed's rec room, both pulling off their respective suits of armor as they readied to get into the hammock. "I'll get in first, so I can balance you on my chest, alright?" Locus said, undressed first as he made a step towards the large hammock.
"Wait a second," Wash ordered, Locus stopping at once. The Freelancer blushed crimson, looking away in shame. "I... just be careful getting in, okay? I don't want you to slip and hurt yourself."
Locus smiled at Wash, before breaking eye-contact with him in order to watch the hammock as he climbed in, finding it a bit difficult due to his large size. After a few seconds though, Locus managed to heave himself in and settle, ushering Washington to come forward. Hesitantly and now in only his boxers and a T-shirt, Wash walked over to Locus, nearly yelping as the mercenary seized him from under his armpits and lifted him up while lying down in the hammock, pulling Wash up until the Freelancer was lying belly-first over Locus' chest, face bright red as he blinked owlishly up at Locus.
"Are you alright?" Locus asked, and when Wash nodded, he relaxed more, arms wrapping around the Freelancer to keep him steady. "That's it, just relax. I won't let you fall out."
"I'm not a child," Wash muttered, but still seemed to appreciate Locus' words of comfort. "But... thanks. This isn't so bad, once you get used to it."
"It's not bad at all." Locus agreed, closing his eyes as the room seemed to achieve a blissful quietness.
A long period of time passed with little interruption. Federal soldiers came and went, some resting in-between exercises on the couch, and some playing board games or chatting at a few pull-out tables in the corner of the room. Locus was pretty sure he'd slept at some at some point, but was uncertain of whether or not that was true. Washington slept for sure though. He had his head on it's side directly of Locus' heart, listening to the mercenary's heartbeat while he slept for the first time in days, his nightmares having grown much worse since the Reds and he were captured by the Feds.
Washington had medium length, fuzzy, unruly blond hair, stunning gunmetal blue eyes, and far more freckles than Locus could count. Locus watched Wash curiously as he rested, amazed internally at the fact that the soldier sleeping on him trusted him so much, now that they were in a relationship. Some people wouldn't call it a relationship: they never had sex or did anything sexually pleasing to each other, but they shared the same bed and more or less the same clothes. Hell, for a whole day, Wash had once worn Locus' helmet around the base, scaring most of the recruits shitless. Locus had found it so amusing.
The mercenary sighed. It wouldn't be long before all of this would be for nothing, though. Felix was getting antsy, and Locus knew that in about a week or two, they would have to kill the Reds and Blues. Locus would probably kill Wash in his sleep. He'd make it fast, with a bullet through the brain, a knife slitting his throat, or a pillow suffocating him. Locus would blame it on a Rebel spy; not like that wouldn't be believable. But it would hurt. God, it would hurt so much. Locus closed his eyes, using his left foot to reach down and set a steady pace of rocking the hammock, trying to keep Wash asleep.
He loved it when Washington slept. It gave Locus time to daydream about what it would be like to be with him, and give him time to admire the bombshell blond. Even as Wash slept, Locus couldn't keep back the low ache in his chest, begging him to keep Wash, begging him to grab Wash and run back to the pirate hideout, begging him to get it over with and smother the damn man- Locus silently crawled out of the hammock, one hand under Wash's ass and the other around his upper back as he carried him out of the rec room.
Locus carried Wash back to their room, tucking the Freelancer into bed before crawling in alongside him, nuzzling his face into the younger man's neck as he inhaled, taking in the soapy scent on the blond. In a few hours, Agent Washington would awake and continue to trust Locus with his secrets, but for now, Locus could pretend that he'll kill him, that he'll pull the trigger on Wash and pretend that they had nothing, because this was war and if Felix could pretend he didn't care about Kimball than Locus could do the same for Wash.
He can pretend Wash doesn't make him happy.
A/N: Wow, that got sad real fast. Well, hope y'all liked it anyways. I sure did, I'm Locington trash! Please R&R!
~CabooseHeart.