logicunlocked | IC Contact for MoM

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IC Contact for MoM

York, I fail to understand why you are asking me to make this recording.

I told you, it's a social convention. Just say it, D.

Indeed. What I'm referring to, however, is why you are asking -me- to make the recording, York.

I...don't know, who needs a reason? I just thought your voice makes a nice answering machine voice.

I see. In that case, I will proceed.

You have reached the inbox of Garrett Murray, formerly known as Agent York of Project Freelancer. You may proceed in the follow manner:

1) Speak after the tone.

2) Leave a recorded message.

3) —

Why d'you gotta be like that, D? Come on.

I am unsure. What am I 'being like'?

Forget it. Just leave a message. I have an AI to deal with.

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[North glances down between them when he feels York's leg press up against his, only to promptly have to catch York before he topples right off his bar stool. He can't even miss the warmth of York's leg against his (since he had to move his foot to the floor to brace himself), because suddenly he has York's near-everything against him.

It's in that moment that he realizes he's never been drunk alone with York. This wasn't like shore leave, where North usually restrained himself a little bit because he had to stop South and Maine from breaking the pool table. Where Carolina was usually there to drag York away when he started getting cuddly.]

...I think it's time we pay up and head home.

Edited 2015-09-26 05:59 (UTC)

Yeah, probably.

[ He never argues when someone says that. There's no point in getting overly inebriated in public. If someone thinks he needs to pack it in, they're probably right.

York waves the bartender over, pays the tab, and then carefully comes to an upright position. ]

Taxi, or footing it?

[Admittedly, North is more worried about letting himself do something he's going to regret than about York getting embarrassing, but.

Even when York straightens, North keeps a hand on the small of his back, touch lingering longer than he normally would let it. Just to keep York upright. Absolutely. That's the only reason.]

We're not too far to walk, unless you'd rather call a cab.

Nah, walking is good with me. [ He sets his hand on North's shoulder to grasp in solidarity for a moment before turning and heading out the door. ]

[North's fingers tingle a little when York pulls away, but he decides it's just because he's had enough alcohol to have a pleasant flush all over his body.

He falls into step next to York, wishing he could just skim his fingers down York's wrist and take his hand as they walked.]

We should do this again sometime.

I'd say. We should make it a habit, is what we should do.

[ He steps his way deliberately down the street. He's not too far gone, though he is kind of weavy. ]

So, you're letting me do all the talking, man. What's been up with you?

Deal. Once a week, we've got to... Just get together and do something.

[When York weaves toward him North instinctively raises his arms to catch him, one arm wrapping around his shoulders even as he has to take an extra stabilizing step out to keep them both upright.]

I've just been winding down after the paintball tournament. Catching up on a lot of sleep debt, teaching Mr. Wigglesworth to use the litterbox.

[ York presses into the hold with a grin. ]

I don't know if I ever would have expected to end up living with a cat. He's cute, though. Definitely cute.

[North steadies himself and smiles down at York, leaning into him with a huffed little chuckle.]

I'm still sorry I just brought him home without talking it over first.

[A child's pleading is a little harder to resist when it's literally plugged into your brain]

Don't worry, I've forgiven you. I mean, what else could I do? Not like I can make you take him back.

[North is going to just keep holding onto York like this for as long as he can get away with, enjoying the warmth of another body in his arms.]

Don't worry, I'd never ignore you for a kitten.

[ And York has absolutely no objection to being held, and eventually wraps his own arm around North's waist to steady them as they continue to make their way down the street. ]

Well, I'm not going to make you have to choose. [ He chuckles. ] Where'd you come up with that name, anyway?

[North can't ignore the way that his heart skips a beat at the casual affection in York's arm around his waist. But he's also schooled in the art of keeping it cool.]

Take a guess.

[If you guess "the small child who lives in North's head" then you've both succeeded in guessing correctly and phrasing it in the weirdest way possible.]

Well, I suppose it's kind of descriptive, isn't it. [ He chuckles. ] Theta's enjoying the whole thing?

I think he expected more thwarting evildoers to be involved, but he's settled in fine. How's Delta holding up?

[ They're almost having a harder time keeping upright this way, with their arms wrapped around one another, and York lets his pace slow down. ]

Well, you know how it is with them. He's just generally keeping an eye on things though, watching out for any signs that things might go south.

[North is plenty balanced, and he'd rather walk like this and take longer than walk separate just to get home faster. He wobbles a little matching his pace to York's, but never to the extent of nearly falling.]

Mm. I know what you mean.

[But he doesn't say much more on that subject. This still seems too good - too domestic, really - to be true, but what's the point in looking a gift horse in the mouth?]

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IC Contact for MoM

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