Engineer stifled a yawn as he examined the mess hall coffee pot. The pot was already a few hours old and had the consistency of tar. But it was ready now and making a new pot would just take more time and energy. Once his coffee mug was refilled, he trudged back to the rec room and the table in the corner he had commandeered. Sinking into his chair, he took a sip of sludge, set the mug down on the table and went back to his equations. After half an hour or so he just about thought he'd reached the end of the problem when a clatter down the hall interrupted his train of thought.
He glanced up to see Demo staggering past the door. "'Ey Laddie!" The man leaned against the doorframe a bottle dangling from his hand. "What are ye doin' up here?"
"Workin'," he replied sourly, his thought process was now in shambles.
"Don' normally see ya here."
"Felt like a change of scenery." he lied as he lowered his head over his notepad, reaching for his slide rule.
"Oh?" Demo inquired, looking at him suspiciously with his one good eye. Engineer declined to answer any further. It would be a rainy day in Tuefort before he admitted to anyone he was avoiding his workshop or the reason why. Except to pick up and drop off his tools he hadn't been down there for days. Eventually, he told himself, the smell of cigarettes would fade and he'd be able to work in there without his mind wandering.
The silence stretched on a bit before the Scotsman decided he wasn't going to get a reply and that he had better things to do and continued on down the hall whistling loudly to himself.
The Texan had tried working in his room but it was stifling in there, and the bed would seem so inviting to his tired eyes. But the second he put his head on the pillow everything he was trying to avoid, trying to forget, would flood his mind. Those hands, that infuriating smirk… With another sip of the swill pretending to be coffee he glared back at his notepad.
Stay busy. That was the ticket. Stay busy. Idle hands and idle minds caused nothing but trouble. Better to stay occupied and out in the open. The snake wouldn't try anything out in the open where anyone could see. Well he probably wouldn't try anything.
He stared at his notebook his eyes not seeing the numbers and equations in front of them. Despite his best attempts he could feel the tips of his ears burning , his mind thinking back to the day the snake had tried something. Tried and succeeded.
It meant nothing, he reminded himself. It was nothing and it meant nothing. Just the one time. One time didn't mean he'd started fancying men. Especially not that man.
The enemy Spy. Not just another man. Not just any man. No. The damn smug, charming, nosey, fussy, impossible bastard. He couldn't have picked a more dangerous liaison if he tried.
The letter was sitting in Engineer's desk drawer, like a ticking time bomb. The note had suggested at the end of the week they meet and "talk". Not that he was going to, of course. He was going to destroy the letter, he just hadn't gotten around to it yet. He had to destroy it, pretend it never happened. It was the only logical option. The only safe option.
He looked up at the sound of footsteps, as they got closer he could also pick up snippets of conversation.
"-we also need to get you fitted for a new suit!"
"Docktor I don't -"
"I insist! You can not go without white tie, it vould be undenkar!"
"You have no-"
"Nonsense! Besides even if ve don't go you'll still need a good suit."
"Why would I need it?" Heavy asked as the pair walked by the rec room door, too absorbed in their conversation to realize they were being overheard.
"So I can tear it off you." Medic purred in German that regrettably Engineer heard and understood. It was hardly the first time he'd overheard things he'd rather forget. He just hoped tonight he wasn't going to need the earmuffs, the walls of base were thinner than he would have preferred.
But one didn't need to speak German or Russian to figure out those two were together. It was an open secret around the base. Though after the initial surprise and the information slowly sank into the collective consciousness, everyone moved on. Time had passed and the team as a whole didn't seem to care. Life went on and no one gave the two any grief. Though he suspected that had a lot to do with how terrifying Heavy and Medic were. There were few who would be stupid enough to start trouble with the Russian behemoth and a mad doctor. They could probably walk down the street back at his home town at noon holding hands without anyone saying or doing anything.
Sadly, he suspected he would get a different sort of reaction if anyone back home found out what had happened between him and Spy. He'd heard stories about what happened to folks who fancied the wrong sort of people. Most folks didn't have a Respawn to rely on.
Not that anyone at home was going to find out. There was nothing to find out he insisted. Just the one time, not like he was going to make a habit of it. It was nothing. It meant nothing. Though if it really meant nothing, he wouldn't be thinking about it. He would have forgotten it and moved on. Moved on and let things go back to normal. Like he should. Leaving him alone.
Regardless what he tried to tell Sam or himself he really wasn't happy by himself… "You are allowed to be happy…" Sam had told him. He highly doubted that his cousin would mean those words if he found out what had happened, more specifically with whom it happened with. His heart sank as he let himself admit it. For all the trouble the snake caused he couldn't deny he had...enjoyed it.
"Dammit" he shook his head and forced his attention back to the notepad. Numbers and equations. He could trust those, they made more sense than anything else out here did. He was divorced, lonely, in the middle of a desert with a bunch of lunatics, death was only a temporary obstacle, his best friends were a faceless pyromaniac and a man who threw jars of his own urine at people… and he was in over his head with the enemy Spy. Life used to be so much simpler…
He glared at the equations, the numbers blurring together. He rubbed his tired eyes and suppressed a yawn, a break might be a good idea. Just to rest his eyes…
He awoke hunched in the chair, his face pressed against his notepad. He sat up with a groan as his back popped and creaked in protest. How long had he been out? Someone had shut the lights off while he was asleep. Rubbing his eyes he stood from his chair and felt something slip from his shoulders he glanced to the floor. It appeared to be a blanket, bending over he held it in his hand getting a better look at it. It was one of the army surplus blankets that RED supplied the base with. Somewhere he knew there was a storage closet full of them in the event of an emergency and RED needed several dozen blankets the texture of sandpaper.
Someone had taken the time to pull one out of the storage closet and drape one over him. He shook his head refusing to think too hard about who could or would have gone to that trouble. Tossing the blanket over the chair he squinted at his watch in the dim. If he made it back to his room he might get a few hours to sleep in his own bed. Grumbling to himself he stumbled down the hall to the barracks. Even if he didn't get back to sleep his back would certainly appreciate a mattress more than the chair.
Spy looked down at his hand of cards and then around the table to his team mates. Sniper kept his eyes on his cards, shuffling them back and forth in his hand. He seemed agitated. The bushman's hand might be worse than his own. The Russian's beady eyes glinted in the light meeting Spy's confidently for a moment before looking back at his cards, barely visible in his oversized hands. He either had a good hand or was as good a bluff as Spy was. Soldier slumped in his chair, thoughtfully picking his nose.
Sighing inwardly, Spy looked back at his own hand, a pair. Not quite rubbish but close enough. "Raise," he muttered, tossing a hundred dollar bill onto the table to join the motley collection of chips and money.
He had won h/igher stakes games with worse hands, he could easily beat these imbeciles. Just be patient, keep cards close to the chest and wait the game out. Simple rules that applied to more than just cards. He was a patient man, he had to be, he wouldn't be a very good spy if he wasn't.
If only you'd followed those rules with the Texan. Last time he had checked the cowboy was passed out in the common area of RED base and hardly in the mood for visitors, so here he sat - playing cards with idiots.
Sniper sighed, the sound snapped Spy's attention back to the game and the Australian agitatedly tossed half his hand "Deal." he muttered. The Russian dealt him new cards. These didn't seem to please him anymore than his old ones.
"Check," Heavy rumbled from his side of the table.
"I WILL RAISE!" Soldier exclaimed, dramatically pounding the table as he dropped two bills on the table.
"Raise," Spy replied tossing a couple of chips on the table.
He should have kept his wits about him. Should have left when the man asked him the first time. Walked out of the workshop and left the cowboy alone. But he hadn't. Imbecile. Thinking with your cock, he reprimanded. Engineer was never going to speak to him again.
"Raise." the bushman muttered, adding more chips to the middle. He was trying to bluff, but wasn't very good at it. Spy wondered how long he was going to keep up the attempt.
Check," the Russian was being cautious.
"RAISE!"
Spy tossed another few chips in, beginning to recall why he rarely bothered joining his team for poker. The monotony. That, and the fact they accused him of cheating last time he played. Whether or not he had been cheating was beside the point, accusing was just rude.
The cowboy had accused me of blackmail, he fumed to himself. It had hardly been the first time someone had suspected him of ulterior motives, but it was probably the first time someone had been wrong or that he cared. He hadn't wanted anything from the man. That had been his first mistake. Letting things drag on too long, getting attached, caring what the Texan thought of him.
In another time, in another place the tryst would have been enough. He would have walked out of that room pleased with himself and not given a second thought to the cowboy. His romantic liaisons were usually covert, all about the pleasure of the moment, never caring for the repercussions.
But this time, he found he cared. It was a frustrating nagging sensation. He wanted the silly little man again, wanted to see him, talk to him, hold him. Though it seemed he had probably lost his chance for that. It was baffling, having his happiness tied to another person.
"Enh… ah'm mucked." Sniper yielded, tossing his hand in.
"I will raise." Heavy chuckled and threw a large bill in the pile.
Soldier announced, "I SEE YOUR BET AND RAISE IT BY…" he trailed off, first trying to count and quickly giving up "ALL THIS HERE!" Cackling, he shoved the remainder of his chips in the middle of the table.
There was a very unsurprised pause before Sniper spoke up, "That ain't enough to raise yer short a bit."
There was a thoughtful grunt from the American before he shoved a grubby hand into his jacket pocket, "ALRIGHT… JEST GIVE ME A SECOND HERE…" After a bit of digging the man pulled out his hand and tossed something glinting onto the table. "MY LUCKY GOLD TOOTH!" the man explained proudly. "I GOT A MILLION O'EM."
"That'll work." the bushman gestured to the rest of the players, there were no protests. No one at the table wanted to know anymore about the contents of the homicidal imbecile's pockets.
"Very well," Spy smirked, "I'm all in." he gestured to his collection of chips tossing in a few bills for good measure. The Russian would probably fold now, the man was a cautious player and rarely made any ridiculously large bets. That left the only standing player Soldier, whose grasp of poker was as tenuous as his grasp on anything else in life.
"I fold." Heavy answered, tossing in his cards just as predicted.
"I CALL YER BLUFF, YA PANSY!" Soldier shoved his chair back pointing an accusatory finger. "LETS SEE YOUR CARDS."
"I just have a pair of fives." Spy said tossing his cards casually on the table. "What do you have?"
"READ 'EM AND WEEP SWEETHEART" Soldier grinned widely and revealed his hand. "DEVIL'S ZOO HAND!"
There was a long pause as everyone stared at the cards on the table. Spy had to admit he was impressed, it was one of the worst hands he had ever seen.
"What am I seeing?" the Russian frowned.
"That's a shit hand there mate." Sniper added quietly.
"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!? THIS IS AN AMAZING HAND. THIS BEATS SPY'S LITTLE PAIR HANDS DOWN!"
"There is no such hand, this is garbage!" Spy protested.
"SAY THAT TO MY FACE!"
"I just did!"
"SAY THAT AGAIN!"
"If you could take that lid off yer noggin…" the bushman snapped, joining in the argument.
"ARE YOU IMPLYING THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY UNIFORM HIPPY?"
"Tiny blind man does not know rules of game." the Russian rumbled rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Spy sighed, tuning out his arguing teammates. He quickly pocketed his winnings and slid his chair back away from the table, what little satisfaction he had gained from winning evaporated. This had been a waste of time. He had won a game of cards against a bunch of idiots. It hadn't been a challenge, or much of a distraction. It had killed an evening, leaving him another day closer to Engineer ignoring his note. The man had probably burned it as soon as he saw it.
"Gentlemen," he nodded as he walked out of the room.
Engineer drove his truck into a parking spot and frowned. Pulling the carefully folded note out of his breast pocket he glanced over the directions to make sure he was in the right place. He'd driven thirty miles following the directions left on Spy's note and had come to… a truck stop.
True, for truck stops this was a pretty impressive one; gas pumps on one side, an all hours diner on the other, with a motel and Laundromat looming behind it. An oasis for travelers to rest and refuel before they drove on into the desert again.
Impressive or not this seemed a damn odd place to met someone as picky as the Frenchman. But for awkward conversations that weren't supposed to be happening in the middle of the night it seemed as good a choice as any. Far away from their respective bases, with enough traffic that they probably wouldn't attract much notice.
The Texan killed the engine of his truck and sat in the silence. This had to be the stupidest thing he'd ever done. Even worse than the time he'd accidentally blown up the hen house. He'd been ten at the time and hadn't known better. Now he was a grown man and had no excuse. It had taken him days to rebuild that hen house, it would take a lot longer to repair the damage this was likely to cause.
Not too late to turn back, he noted. It'd be simple enough to turn the key and drive off. Speed off and pretend this hadn't happened. It's not like he had to be here. Spy would understand if he didn't show up, he'd understand what that meant. They didn't need to talk. There was nothing to talk words were starting to wear thin and they hadn't provided him any more peace of mind than they had the first time he said them.
"Fine…" he fumed to himself. He'd go in, tell the bastard he wasn't interested, that it was over and leave. Just get things straightened. Clear the air between them, so they could go back to doing their jobs. No sense making things complicated. Just go in and set the man straight.
Fumbling the door open he climbed woodenly out of the truck, his keys held in his fist. Just go in and get this settled, he told himself. There was no way this could go on. Whatever was going on. No matter how he may or may not feel about this, this needed to end.
The bells on the door jangled and clanked loudly as he entered the diner. He flinched as a waitress looked up to nod at him. Glancing around the room he spotted Spy watching him. Too late to run now. He walked awkwardly to the back corner where the Frenchman was sitting, trying his best not to look guilty. He wasn't doing anything to be guilty about. Just end this and leave. Keep it short and leave.
"Ah Monsieur." Spy greeted him.
End it and leave. "Evenin'," he mumbled standing in front of the table.
"Hey Sugah," he heard a woman's voice over his shoulder, and glancing behind him he saw a middle aged woman wearing an apron. "You want a menu? Anything to drink?" she asked.
"Would you like to sit down?" Spy asked gesturing to the bench across from him.
"Hunh?" it was then he realized he had been rooted to the spot. "Oh…" he felt the tips of his ears grow warm as he slumped onto the bench. End it and leave.
"Can I get you anything?" the woman repeated.
"… Coffee." he managed to croak. He glanced at the Frenchman for a second and then turned to watch the waitress as she got the coffee from behind the counter. There was nothing particularly interesting about the process, and if pressed later he would be unable to mention one feature of the woman but it was better than looking at Spy.
The woman returned to the table, moving his hands to accept his mug he realized he had been gripping his keys so tightly they left an imprint on his palm. He put his keys in his pocket and busied himself with adding sugar to his coffee. The waitress topped off Spy's cup and bustled off leaving them alone.
Looking up from his mug he saw the Frenchman quietly sip his coffee. Their eyes met for a second before he grabbed the sugar shaker and sweetened his mug some more. The clatter of the spoon on ceramic was the only noise at the table. Spy was still quiet. Watching him.
When he couldn't take the silence anymore the Texan cleared his throat. "So…." he started and then trailed off, the words evaporated from his mouth as he looked up at the Spy again.
"Yes?" the reply came quickly, almost eagerly.
Biting his lip Engineer let the silence return again. Unable to think of anything to say he looked back down at the table, noticing the Frenchman's hands resting on it. His mouth went dry as he remembered those hands and what they could do. Nervously, he shifted his gaze out the window and stared at the darkened parking lot.
"Why th'hell yah ask me here if you ain't gonna say anythin'?" he asked finally.
"I- I felt we needed to talk."
"Did yah?" he snapped but no response came. "So talk." Spy was rarely at a loss for anything to say, why should tonight be any different? "Cat got yer tongue?" He turned back from the window to the snake and froze. The man wasn't smiling. The eternally smug infuriating bastard wasn't smiling. It took him a moment to realize that he hadn't seen the man smile at all this evening. No self assured smirk, no cocky attitude. He finally let himself look at Spy for longer than an instant, the man seemed tired. Worried. If Spy was any other man he'd say he looked anxious.
Feeling a bit like he was seeing something he wasn't supposed to he looked back at his mug, took a sip of coffee, and nearly choked on the cloying sweetness. "So-" he cleared his throat and started again "so - yah wanted to talk…" he trailed off unsure of what else to say.
"We need to." the Frenchman said quietly. "We need to talk about what happened."
"There is nothing to talk about." Engineer muttered automatically, looking down at his hands.
"Really?" Spy asked "Then why did you come here?"
"Ah-" he felt all the blood rush to his face. The snake probably noticed, watching him like a bug under a microscope. End it and leave. He tried to form the words again but couldn't seem to manage. He took another sip of his over sweetened coffee and tried to straighten his thoughts. This should be easy. This was supposed to be easy. He glanced out the window even though he knew the answers weren't out there.
"Nothing to talk about…." Spy repeated. "So you often ramoner in your workshop with other men?"
Engineer frowned, mentally translating Spy's French. What did cleaning chimneys have to do with… oh. Blushing, he glanced around the room to see if anyone had possibly overheard or understood what the snake was saying. "Keep your voice down!" he hissed.
"But you said there was nothing to talk about," Spy answered dryly with a shrug. "Not even when we ki-"
"-Shh!" he cut the man off looking around desperately to make sure no one had heard. The waitress glanced over the register at them. Judging. "Not here." he pleaded. "Please."
"Where then?"
"… Somewhere… not here, not out in the open." he cringed, expecting the man to mock him.
"Very well." to Engineer's surprise Spy merely stood up and tossed a dollar or two on the table. "I dread to see what the rooms here look like but they are the only option for miles."
"So, here we are Monsieur," Spy gestured at their surroundings with more grandeur than the room deserved. "Away from prying eyes and ears."
The Texan grunted as he took in the surroundings.
The room, was bare, little more than a bed, two night stands with a small table and chairs by the window. He sat down at the table trying not to look at the bed. Maybe they would have been better off at the diner whispering over coffee. In public they had to follow basic decorum, now they were alone…
As if sensing his unease the Frenchman strode to the other end of the room, leaned against the wall, and lit a fresh cigarette.
Engineer drummed his fingers on the table, the staccato mimicking the blood pounding in his ears. He shouldn't be here. Shouldn't be in this room. Meeting foreign men in strange remote motels, there was no way to make this sound decent. But here he was. He was supposed to say something but nothing came to mind.
"I thought we were here to talk." Spy finally said sardonically, cutting into the silence. Engineer nodded and swallowed thickly as his mind fumbled for words. Questions formed in his mind and fled before he could voice them. Where to even begin…
"Why did you kiss me?" he blurted suddenly looking up from the table to Spy who remained silent. The man stared at the faded wallpaper in front of him.
"Why did you kiss me?" he loudly repeated.
The snake wordlessly puffed on his cigarette, he looked… thoughtful? Concerned? Engineer wasn't going to try to guess.
"Well?" he snapped. "Why did yah?"
There was a pregnant pause as Spy exhaled a cloud of smoke before finally, "Because I wanted to."
He wasn't sure what answer he'd been expecting, what answer he would have preferred. Swallowing, his gaze fell back to the scuffed table.
"I kissed you, Monsieur Cowboy," the Frenchman spoke again, "because I wanted to. I've wanted to. For months."
He looked up at Spy incredulously, waiting for the smirk, the smile, the chuckle… some sign the man was teasing him. Joking. Instead Spy met his eyes and he found no humor in them. He looked away, uncertain how to react. What to say. The whole notion was ridiculous. This had to be a joke.
Engineer's eyes fell back to the table. "Ah didn' know…" he mumbled. It had never occurred to him, "You're… queer." the words stumbled out and he regretted them almost as quickly as he said them.
"That's a very… limited word." Spy replied dryly. "My tastes are more varied than just men."
The Texan eyes remained on the table, as his mind processed this information. His fingers nervously traced the scuffs and wear on the wood of the table; avoiding seeing the Frenchman's no doubt withering gaze.
"Ah didn' know…" His mind chewed on information, so Spy preferred men and women. And somehow the snake's tastes included… him. That part took longer to digest. "The toy bear…that night out" he murmured to himself. He recalled the comment that night at dinner Spy had made about inviting him in the first place. He hadn't wanted to spend time with any of his team mates but wanted to see him. Things that at the time had just seemed odd suddenly seemed obvious and he hadn't noticed. It hadn't occurred to him. He glanced back at the Frenchman and his ever increasing cloud of smoke.
"I've answered your question, Monsieur. Now I must ask why you kissed me."
"Why… ah…" he trailed off his mouth going dry.
"You kissed me back." the Frenchman reminded him with an edge of desperation.
Engineer swallowed, "Yea…. ah did." there was little point in denying it. He had tried, but couldn't make himself forget. He had kissed the man and worse. He felt the tips of his ears redden at the memory of it soon it would probably spread to the rest of his face. "Ah - ain't… Ah…" he sputtered. "Ah don' know why - what.." he shook his head trying to clear his thoughts, unable to voice what had happened. It would sound ridiculous out in the open. Desperate. He had wanted it, to be kissed, to be touched, to feel wanted again. To not be alone. "Ah wasn'… thinkin'" he replied sheepishly hoping the man wasn't going to probe further.
"I see." came the toneless reply. He swore the Spook almost sounded disappointed. It occurred to him that Spy had probably been hoping for a different answer.
"Sorry," he swallowed thickly, "Ah jus' - got caught up in it." It didn't mean anything, he tried to remind himself as his eyes darted to the table, the wall, anything but the other man's face. It didn't mean anything. It can't mean anything.
"That was not my…." the Frenchman paused as if trying to get his mouth around the words "…finest moment either." There was regret in his voice, it almost sounded like an apology.
"But you wanted to?" Wanted him.
"Oui beaucoup." Spy replied meeting his eyes before they could look away, "I would like to again." he added.
Engineer felt the blood rush to his face. As ridiculous, as unbelievable as the situation was, the snake seemed sincere. There probably was little for him to gain from this meeting. If blackmail was his goal he already had enough, if he was after information he already had the opportunity for that, murder there had already had ample time for also. Little to gain and everything to lose.
"This is crazy." the Texan said finally.
"I know" Spy intoned with a sigh.
"We're enemies!" he continued on.
"Je le sais" Spy repeated as he puffed on his cigarette.
"We kill each other every day!"
"Only temporarily and as a job." Spy said with a shrug, "It's not like we are warring nations."
"B-but-" Engineer sputtered.
"We'd look pretty funny walking down the street together." the Texan said softly. Why that thought occurred to him he wasn't sure, it seemed such a random thing to bring up in this situation.
"Ah…" the man looked over his shoulder at him, no doubt reading his face like an open book. "You want to put this behind you and forget anything happened." the man surmised, his tone was flat, emotionless. "Go back to how things were-"
"-No!" the reply came so quickly it startled him.
"But you said you didn't want-"
"Ah know." he huffed.
"So what do you want!?" Spy hissed exasperation starting to seep into the man's voice.
"Ah don' know!" he admitted desperately. "Ah mean- I- I…dunno…" he trailed off uncertainly.
The Frenchman laughed. It was a tired sort of laugh. "Oh Monsieur." he sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed. "You really are impossible."
"Sorry." he apologized with a shrug. But exactly what he was apologizing for he wasn't sure.
Spy gave another tired chuckle, exhaling a cloud of cigarette smoke.
"This…" he gestured vaguely, "this… is a lot to take in." He hadn't wanted this, but now he didn't want to lose it. Ridiculous and unlikely as it was. "You… me..." he trailed off. "This." This was a dangerous conversation, even more dangerous if he continued it. "Ah dun even know yer name." He realized out loud.
"Do you need one?"
"Nah." he shook his head "Yah'd just give me a fake one anyways."
"You don't know that."
"A truth yah ain't sure of is as good as a lie."
"À votre aise"
He stood up from the chair, stretching his legs and back.
"So Monsuier Cowboy, what do you propose we do?"
"I dunno." Engineer mumbled beginning to wish he'd had more coffee earlier. How had he ended up here? This was all too much. "I want…" he trailed off. Life used to make sense, go to school, get married, get a job, settle down, raise a family… That was what you were supposed to do, but that hadn't worked out for him had it?
He looked at Spy sitting on the bed, the smoke around his head catching the light like an ill deserved halo. He was supposed to end this and leave, he never should have come here in the first place. But he couldn't make himself stay away. If anyone in RED found out, if anyone back home found out…. He swallowed a lump in his throat.
"Ah dunno'" he mumbled again feeling like he was repeating himself. How long had they been talking in circles? Sinking back into his chair he stifled a yawn feeling exhaustion wash over him. "It's late." he offered lamely. "Ah should probably start heading back."
The Frenchman seemed disappointed but didn't complain. "I'll leave you then, Monsieur,"
"No… Ah should-"
"No sense you driving exhausted and crashing into some cactus." Spy said standing up.
"But what about-"
"I'll get a coffee, I'll be fine." he answered, brushing off Engineer's concern with a self assured smirk. It was like a mask had slipped back on, Spy was back to normal. He had expected the man to be exasperated, upset, angry, demanding an answer. Instead he was just walking out the door.
"But-"
"Get some rest Monsieur, we can talk later." with that the door shut behind Spy with a click, leaving nothing but silence and the smell of cigarette smoke.
At least he was alone, the Texan sighed in relief. He couldn't think straight with Spy around. He'd meant to say he was ending it. That there was nothing to end. He had to end it.
"Thank you but no." he grumbled to himself. It wasn't that hard to say was it? He growled as he unlaced his boots dropping them on the floor. But when he found himself in front of the Frenchman and his damn smile… his thoughts tied themselves in knots.
With a heavy sigh he unbuttoned his shirt, letting it fall on the floor next to his boots. After peeling off his pants he leaned back on the bed stretching out as far as he could. The mattress was a step above his bed on base. True it was a very shallow step, but a step none the less. Pulling the blankets over his shoulders he turned the lamp off and tried to get comfortable.
He yawned and adjusted his position. The night was fairly quiet, the occasional patter of footsteps or engine noise reached him from the outside, but they were nothing compared to the clatter of the barracks. He had nearly started to drift off when he heard a sputter of an engine refusing to turn over. There was a pause as the driver tried again, at this rate he was going to flood the engine. Not my problem, he reminded himself. There was another sputter followed by a loud bang and then silence. Well, whoever that was clearly wasn't going anywhere in a hurry he chuckled to himself.
There was a knock at the door, followed by the quickly sinking sensation that the engine he heard was about to become his problem. Groaning he sat up, the knocking persisted. He turned on the lamp and trudged across the floor. He vaguely thought about trying to get his clothes on before answering the door. But that would take time and whoever was at the door, though he had an idea who it was, was likely getting impatient.
Opening the door a crack he found himself face to face with a rather distraught looking Spy. Bleary eyed and wordless he looked at the man waiting for an explanation.
"Pardon, Monsiuer," the Frenchman said quietly. "But I seem to be having troubles with my machine."
Any other occasion he might have had a retort but instead all he managed was "Oh."
"I was wondering if maybe… you could possibly take a look at it."
He didn't need to look at the thing to know that whatever was wrong with that stupid thing was not going to be simple. It was ages of no maintenance, and lord only knew what else. It was going to take a lot of time, and require him to get dressed. "Ah'll look at it in the mornin'," he decided out loud.
"Ah-" the Frenchman said turning away, "sorry to disturb you."
"Where are you goin'?" he asked squinting at the man's retreating back.
"To see if there is another room-"
"Get in here" he sighed, opening the door too tired for modesty or arguing. "Yah paid for the room no sense yah gettin' another one."
"Are you certain?"
"Jus' git in here." he sighed.
The Frenchman, with surprising hesitance, finally came inside.
Going over the options in his head, he realized he hadn't thought this through. Sleeping on the floor seemed a dangerous proposition in this place and there was little else in the room to make a bed out of. "I suppose yah can sleep in the bathtub if yah really wanna," he shrugged. "But the bed should have more than enough room for both of us" he pointed out practically. Just don't try anything, the unwritten request hung unspoken in the air.
"Very well Monsieur, we are both gentlemen."
"Thank yah." he started to climb back in bed moving his pillow very clearly on one side of the bed. "Now if ya don' mind I'm going to sleep. I'll lookit your scooter in the morning." After rest and breakfast. The man at least owed him breakfast if he was going to try to resurrect that wreck.
"Of course."
The Texan closed his eyes, but the noises of Spy fussing around the room kept him from dozing off. Through half lidded eyes he watched the man meticulously unbutton his jacket, placing it on the back of a chair with his tie. He watched Spy's wiry frame, silhouetted in the lamp light, unbutton and fold his vest and put it with the rest. The shirt soon followed. He turned away and closed his eyes, the man was just in his slacks and undershirt but he felt like a peeping tom.
He ignored the remaining rustling as presumably, Spy's expensive shoes were removed and his slacks, no doubt were folded like the rest. After all that fuss the Frenchman finally settled down on the other side of the bed. "Bonne nuit " he heard the man say softly before shutting off the lamp.
Engineer awoke from pleasant dreams to the smell of cigarettes and expensive cologne. And froze, realizing to his mortification he was pressed up against the Frenchman, an arm thrown over the man's waist.
"Good Morning." He felt the vibrations of the man's speech in his rib cage. He was also keenly aware of his growing erection.
"Sorry… sorry." he murmured scooting away covering his face with his hands. He must have moved in his sleep, he only hoped he hadn't done anything else. Had he talked in his sleep? If so, what had he said? "Sorry- uh, sorry."
"It's alright" Spy replied quietly. "It's alright. I don't mind. Unless, you do."
Did he mind? He turned to look at the man. It had been so long… physical touch, the warmth of another body, the smell of skin.
It didn't matter, he tried to tell himself, as he gingerly placed a hand on Spy's shoulder, the man's skin warm under his fingers. He could feel the slight tremble as he ran a finger along the man's solar plexus. It didn't mean anything, and it didn't matter. The Frenchman said nothing, leaning into his touch.
Delicately, he ran his hand along the man's jawline carefully avoiding snagging the mask, feeling the contours of the man's face through the cloth. His face was sharper than Evie's ever had been, angular where she had been soft. The man's stubble grated against his hands, he could feel a hint of a smile beneath his hand.
He leaned forward, slow, catching the man's eyes in the dim light. This was dangerous, stupid. This couldn't be anything, it shouldn't be anything, he reminded himself. "Ah…" he started but trailed off as his eyes met the Frenchman's. The man looked at him curiously, waiting for his next move.
The base was miles away, home was even further and Spy was right here. "Ah…" he leaned in, taking in the familiar scent of French cologne and cigarettes again. He shouldn't be doing this, he told himself as he kissed him. But he found he just didn't care.
"Ah'm an idiot" he muttered pulling away.
"As am I" Spy chuckled, leaning in for another kiss.
