Chapter Text
Tucker didn't know it, but this was the worst part of Agent Washington's day. It wasn't trying to convince Sarge not to shoot Grif or even trying to explain to Caboose why Church didn't say goodbye before he left with Carolina. The worst part of his day was watching Tucker train. The days had grown hot, much too hot for Tucker to wear his armor and Washington didn't feel like protesting. After all, there are very few moments that he is able to watch Tucker groaning and sweating while soft expletives escape his mouth. Unfortunately, they were mostly “It's fucking hot as dicks out here, man!”
“The quicker you finish with your daily rounds, the quicker you can head back inside.” Washington didn't really want Tucker to finish anytime soon but there was so much he could assign him to do without it being overkill. For now, Wash would just let him get by with doing sixty-nine squats rather than his usual hundred. Tucker, too tired to comment about the number of squats he had completed, walked along side Washington as they headed back inside the base.
“You know, Wash, part of me wants to thank you for keeping helping me keep my figure,” he wheezed out as he threw himself onto the softest material they could find after the crash: a pile of rain tarps.
“I have no interest in your figure,” Washington lied. In all honesty, he had known since his days in the Freelancer Project that he was never attracted to women. Many of the other soldiers would gather around just to watch CT and South spare with each other without their armor. Wash never really cared for it, or them. He was okay with it, he had always looked up to the other guys on the team. The problem was that he was pretty sure that Tucker only swung one way. Tucker was funny when he wasn't being a complete asshole and he genuinely cared for his friends, even Church. He was also pretty sure that Tucker really could pick up chicks regardless of whether or not he had a tank. Because of all the drills, Tucker's figure had become slim, lean, almost to the point where his body looked like stone. Washington did always wonder if it also felt like stone, or if his skin was soft to the touch. He wanted to know what Tucker smelled like right after he had finally washed off the sweat and dirt from the day's chores. But most of all, Washington wanted to see how long Tucker could hold up against soft caresses without moaning from absolute pleasure while he ru...
“AGENT WASHINGTON!!” Caboose yelped causing Wash to jump out of his daydream. “CHURCH IS BACK!” Caboose was now behaving like a spoiled lapdog and pointing towards the cliffs.
“Caboose... did you see Church?”
“I saw the rocks move!” Washington admittedly was fond of Caboose, the poor bastard. He was so enamored with Church only to be left behind without a single goodbye. However, for the past couple of weeks, he had several reported Church sightings like this one. This made Washington more paranoid than ever because even though Caboose was a bit of a dumb ass, he was observant.
“Church isn't coming back, Caboose. He abandoned us.” Tucker shouted from inside the base.
“He'll come back!” Caboose called back, “We're his best friends.”
“Church doesn't have any friends, he wanted to go off with Carolina and didn't even say shit to us. No note, no smart ass remark, nothing.” Tucker had exited the base, walking up to Caboose as if he was talking to a child. “Church doesn't give a shit about us.”
“He does,” but his voice had grown soft, almost unsure.
“No.” Tucker's firm rebuttal caused Caboose to grow silent. Washington watched as the sad soldier turned and slumped back into the base, defeated.
“Way to be dick, Lavernius.”
“I was just trying to be honest with the kid.” Tucker turned to face his temporary CO in an attempt to defend his actions.
“You know how much he misses Church,” the next words, Washington said with care, “I know how much you miss Church.”
“Shut up! I don't miss that fuck tart. HE abandoned US!” Tucker then huffed away from the base and away from Washington. Always away from Washington.