Confirmation, and the connection closes back to a usual pinpoint, just enough for Sam to feel him coming. On the way Steve shores up his walls just a bit. Sam's mental clumsiness has a faint whiff of the night of the parade, when it became easy to slip into each other's space without thinking.
Not a huge leap that some drinking's going to be involved. ]
Where'd you find that stuff? [ Wry humor slips into his tone again as he approaches, hands in his pockets. A shoulder leans against the side of a ship.]
[ One of those ships just might be home for Sam for a little bit, seeing as there's no way he's going to sleep in the cell-like wall pods in life support, but that's beside the point.
The point, right now, is that drinking is very definitely going to be involved, and Sam is pretty damn pleased about this fact. He's already had enough to drink that he's firmly in the land of just going with what seems like a good idea at the time, but not so much that he's not mostly aware of what he's doing, which is the perfect combination in his opinion.
He grins up at Steve when he arrives, from his position lounging against some kind of cargo box, a blanket spread out under him and a couple of bottles of alcohol on another box. His own walls are a little slipshod at the moment, so that was probably a good call on Steve's part. ]
Misato. One of the new Hosts, the ones waiting for us when we got back. Guess they had a little more time to look around than I did. [ His smile turns just a little bit playful. ] Can I show you another party trick?
[ Cocking an eyebrow at part two, but he reaches for Sam's hand without even feigned hesitation - all he'll pick up is a faint sense of curiosity and amusement emanating off of Steve. ]
[ Hell if he doesn't like getting that amusement from Steve, and it's returned as he reaches out to take Steve’s hand, fingers curling around his. There's a moment where nothing happens - but that's the point, nothing happens. ]
I figured out how to control it, more or less; no more having to avoid touching people if I didn't want to heal whatever they've got.
[ Or give them what Sam has, but that's part two, and he wants to take a moment to just be pleased at what progress he's made. ]
Next part I'm not gonna do without your permission, man, you okay with getting a little drunk with me tonight?
[ A pause when the moment turns anti-climatic, then his lips form an oh when Sam explains, understanding flickers across his expression. He gives a half-grin again. Sam's power could be a literal headache for the guy. ]
Nice work.
[ Still holding Sam's hand, he gives it a shake, his head tilting to one side. ]
Won't say no to that offer. [ Though Sam's got a head start. ]
[ If he was more sober, he'd be able to hide the way his head ducks a little at Steve's half-grin, just a bit more pleased than he'd normally show. Right, okay, just going to move on there. ]
Hoped you'd say that.
[ This time, he has to close his eyes to concentrate, biting his lip as he focuses on the connection between him and Steve. His symbiote ability flares to life easily; the hard part is reining it in. It's still new for him, but in this case, being drunk actually gives him a leg up, seeing as he'd gotten most of his practice at Saffit's party back on Concordia.
He transfers just enough of his own intoxication over to even out some of that head start, slow and careful, just a drink or two. Not enough to completely clear his own head or to make Steve really drunk, just a hint of a buzz - and then he cuts his power off, fighting with it for a long moment before it settles. ]
[ He scans Sam's features for a moment when he ducks his head like that, but it's only a moment later that his face starts to tingle with the effect. Sam's hand feels warm within his own, and he lets out a light huff, teasing: ]
That's a dangerous handshake you've got there. [ More dangerous than the stuff in those bottles. He shakes his head, looking down at their hands clasped together, wondering if the effect is only in his mind or passed from blood to blood somehow (cut to cut, spit for good measure).
An almost awkward pause before his gaze lifts again, a nod at the bottles, and another light snort. ] I better get at least a taste of that stuff.
[ Bridge some of the disconnect between his mouth and his brain. ]
[ There's a low chuckle at Steve's teasing, a flash of a grin and an accompanying swirl of amusement across the mental link. ]
From you, I'm taking that as a compliment. [ It's teasing in return, and he absently smooths his thumb over the back of Steve's hand. It's the good kind of danger, Sam hopes, and even though his ability is dormant, he almost thinks he can still feel it humming in his veins. ]
Hell yeah, this was only so you wouldn't drink me under the table in five minutes.
[ There was probably a moment in there where he should have let go, where his thumb shouldn't still be brushing over Steve's knuckles. But if there was, Sam can't see it - and even now, he's reluctant to give up the warmth of Steve's hand around his. But he does, so he can lean over to grab one of the bottles and offer it out to Steve. ]
[ It doesn't fill the ache of losses from Concordia, but Sam's grin has a warming effect all that reaches deep, more so when it's directed at Steve this way - something Sam's got in common with Angel, and something Steve's not keen enough to make the comparison to. There are still times when he worries whether he leans on Sam's support too much, leading to other nagging doubts about the balance of their friendship. But the bizarre circumstances that led them here no longer overshadow how at ease Steve's gotten to be around Sam. ]
Too bad I left my hollow leg in my other pants. [ He's not exactly a lightweight, but he gives the bottle a vaguely dubious look as he pops it open. ] What is this stuff anyway?
[ Despite that he's transferred some of his intoxication over more than once tonight, Sam's still a pretty healthy level of drunk - not so much that he's tipped into maudlin, but definitely enough that his thoughts are muddled, and not much of anything feels like a concern right now. It's a good place to be, especially after the way that last mission went down on Concordia, and the mess on the ride back.
Right now is probably the most he's been able to relax since arriving back on the station, just being able to sit here and joke around with Steve. And if he's still feeling a little warmth from the way Steve'd smiled at him, well, to be fair, he's feeling a hell of a lot of warmth right now with how much he's had to drink. ]
I think it's some kind of moonshine. I kind of figured Misato might've already been a little too gone to tell me if I asked. [ He leans in closer to his own bottle to frown at it, then shrugs and takes a drink from it. ] Does the job, anyway, but I could sure as hell go for a nice bottle of red wine.
[ A light huff and another grin, this time a little bit sly. ]
I'd settle for a beer and a dog. Mustard and sauerkraut... [ You asked him to come here.
With a deep breath he takes a long drink, swallowing with the back of his arm pressed again his mouth. He's had not-so-finely aged Prohibition era bathtub swill. This stuff isn't about to make him go blind, but it's not fooling around either. ]
[ There's a burst of quiet laughter that turns into a groan as Sam leans over - and then pauses, holding himself mid-lean while he wants patiently for Steve to finish swallowing his drink.
Then Sam shoves him a little. ]
You know, every time you talk about hot dogs I have a massive internal conflict over wanting one real damn bad and also wanting to broaden your horizons.
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Confirmation, and the connection closes back to a usual pinpoint, just enough for Sam to feel him coming. On the way Steve shores up his walls just a bit. Sam's mental clumsiness has a faint whiff of the night of the parade, when it became easy to slip into each other's space without thinking.
Not a huge leap that some drinking's going to be involved. ]
Where'd you find that stuff? [ Wry humor slips into his tone again as he approaches, hands in his pockets. A shoulder leans against the side of a ship.]
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The point, right now, is that drinking is very definitely going to be involved, and Sam is pretty damn pleased about this fact. He's already had enough to drink that he's firmly in the land of just going with what seems like a good idea at the time, but not so much that he's not mostly aware of what he's doing, which is the perfect combination in his opinion.
He grins up at Steve when he arrives, from his position lounging against some kind of cargo box, a blanket spread out under him and a couple of bottles of alcohol on another box. His own walls are a little slipshod at the moment, so that was probably a good call on Steve's part. ]
Misato. One of the new Hosts, the ones waiting for us when we got back. Guess they had a little more time to look around than I did. [ His smile turns just a little bit playful. ] Can I show you another party trick?
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His head tips to one side, then a nod. ]
Should I be standing or sitting? [ What've you got for him this time, Wilson? ]
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Standing's fine for part one, but if you let me do part two, you might want to take a seat.
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I figured out how to control it, more or less; no more having to avoid touching people if I didn't want to heal whatever they've got.
[ Or give them what Sam has, but that's part two, and he wants to take a moment to just be pleased at what progress he's made. ]
Next part I'm not gonna do without your permission, man, you okay with getting a little drunk with me tonight?
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Nice work.
[ Still holding Sam's hand, he gives it a shake, his head tilting to one side. ]
Won't say no to that offer. [ Though Sam's got a head start. ]
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Hoped you'd say that.
[ This time, he has to close his eyes to concentrate, biting his lip as he focuses on the connection between him and Steve. His symbiote ability flares to life easily; the hard part is reining it in. It's still new for him, but in this case, being drunk actually gives him a leg up, seeing as he'd gotten most of his practice at Saffit's party back on Concordia.
He transfers just enough of his own intoxication over to even out some of that head start, slow and careful, just a drink or two. Not enough to completely clear his own head or to make Steve really drunk, just a hint of a buzz - and then he cuts his power off, fighting with it for a long moment before it settles. ]
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That's a dangerous handshake you've got there. [ More dangerous than the stuff in those bottles. He shakes his head, looking down at their hands clasped together, wondering if the effect is only in his mind or passed from blood to blood somehow (cut to cut, spit for good measure).
An almost awkward pause before his gaze lifts again, a nod at the bottles, and another light snort. ] I better get at least a taste of that stuff.
[ Bridge some of the disconnect between his mouth and his brain. ]
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From you, I'm taking that as a compliment. [ It's teasing in return, and he absently smooths his thumb over the back of Steve's hand. It's the good kind of danger, Sam hopes, and even though his ability is dormant, he almost thinks he can still feel it humming in his veins. ]
Hell yeah, this was only so you wouldn't drink me under the table in five minutes.
[ There was probably a moment in there where he should have let go, where his thumb shouldn't still be brushing over Steve's knuckles. But if there was, Sam can't see it - and even now, he's reluctant to give up the warmth of Steve's hand around his. But he does, so he can lean over to grab one of the bottles and offer it out to Steve. ]
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Too bad I left my hollow leg in my other pants. [ He's not exactly a lightweight, but he gives the bottle a vaguely dubious look as he pops it open. ] What is this stuff anyway?
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Right now is probably the most he's been able to relax since arriving back on the station, just being able to sit here and joke around with Steve. And if he's still feeling a little warmth from the way Steve'd smiled at him, well, to be fair, he's feeling a hell of a lot of warmth right now with how much he's had to drink. ]
I think it's some kind of moonshine. I kind of figured Misato might've already been a little too gone to tell me if I asked. [ He leans in closer to his own bottle to frown at it, then shrugs and takes a drink from it. ] Does the job, anyway, but I could sure as hell go for a nice bottle of red wine.
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I'd settle for a beer and a dog. Mustard and sauerkraut... [ You asked him to come here.
With a deep breath he takes a long drink, swallowing with the back of his arm pressed again his mouth. He's had not-so-finely aged Prohibition era bathtub swill. This stuff isn't about to make him go blind, but it's not fooling around either. ]
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Then Sam shoves him a little. ]
You know, every time you talk about hot dogs I have a massive internal conflict over wanting one real damn bad and also wanting to broaden your horizons.