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“Hey, Tucker?” Wash asked nervously as he walked into the living room. Tucker was laying lazily on his gray couch, resting his head on one of the many throw pillows that made a home there. Tucker responded with a noncommittal, “Hm?”, without taking his eyes off of the television or even moving at all.
“We, um,” Wash continued hesitantly. He took a deep breath through his nose, held it for a moment as he let his eyes close, told himself to stop fidgeting, and released the air slowly, opening his eyes as he did. At this point, Tucker could feel the anxiety in the room and had sat up, eyes locked on Washington. The man continued, “We need to talk.”
Tucker felt his heart rate begin to accelerate and immediately blurted, “Oh my god, you’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?”
“What?” Wash felt startled by the question. “No, I -- of course not, why would you think…” He shook his head and tried to gather his thoughts. “No, it’s not that.”
“Shit, man!” Tucker exclaimed, placing a hand over his heart and falling dramatically to his back on the couch.“You can’t just scare people like that!”
“I -- sorry, but Tucker,” he licked his lips, “this is important. I need to talk to you.”
Tucker sat up immediately, and ran a hand over his dreads. “Shit, right, sorry. Activating supportive boyfriend mode.” He turned the TV off and pulled his legs up on the couch and crossed them over each other, then pat the cushion he was sitting next to as a sign to get Washington to sit. As the man moved towards him, playing with the hem of his shirt the entire time, Tucker positioned himself so that he would be facing Washington. The blonde sat down, and Tucker gave him a soft smile. “Supportive boyfriend mode has been activated. What’s on your mind?”
Washington took another deep breath, and tried to get his thoughts in order. After clearing his throat a couple times, he looked down at his hands and began, “Do you, um… Do you remember when we first got together?”
Tucker chewed his lip, offering a “Mm,” as a sign of acknowledgment. Of course he remembered, how could he not? It was the beginning of spring, and there was a fair about an hour away from the city. Tucker and Wash had gone with a group of friends, Grif, Simmons, Church, Tex, the Dakota twins -- everyone they knew, really. It was a big group. Donut and Caboose came along and decided that they would be ‘fair buddies’, which inspired everyone else to buddy up, too. Wash and Tucker were partnered together, partially because all their friends were with their ‘other half’, and also partially because being the only single people in a group gives you a lot to mutually complain about, so hey, why not?
Tucker remembers being forced onto rides he wasn’t entirely up to (‘ring of death?’ was Wash crazy? death is in the name for a reason, good lord.). Wash would joke about Tucker not being tall enough to get on most of the rides, which was not true, he was just tall enough, thank you very much. He remembers that he got cotton candy stuck in Wash’s hair, and the only way he could think to get it out was to dump a bottle of water on him. Wash, apparently, wasn’t on the same page, and it wasn’t long before the two were swearing at each other and Wash had poured the remainder of his water on the other.
They got thrown out shortly after that, something about how ‘the duck pond is not a place to play, gentlemen’, but it gave them something to laugh about even as they were sitting by Carolina’s car, both shivering and soaked. They had managed to ruin both their cell phones, so there was no contact with the rest of the group.
At one point Tucker got so cold in his wet clothes that he stripped them all off, leaving only his boxers on. He remembers Wash laughing at him, but then he asked if it actually helped. Tucker shivered, pulled his limbs in closer to his body, whispered ‘Nope’, and smiled as Wash laughed even harder.
By the time the group finally came looking for them by the cars, Tucker was sure he was going to die, and Wash was naming all of the symptoms of hypothermia. York was the first to see them, and he doubled over in laughter. The rest of the group rolled their eyes and snorted, but none found it as funny as York and Church. The two couldn’t shut up about it, Tucker practically naked and curled against Wash for some sort of protectant from the wind, and Wash with his red cheeks and blue lips.
Someone asked if they were okay, and then when no response came, they told them to just “get in the fucking car, morons. I’ll turn the heat on.”
Tucker mumbled something about hot chocolate as people began to pack in the cars that they had taken. Tucker and Wash sat together in the back, Tucker in the middle with Church on his left. Carolina had the driver’s seat, and York sat shotgun.
Wash had offered to make Tucker some at his place, and he would drive him home after. Tucker agreed quicker than he would have liked to admit, though it was worth it for the warmth of Wash beside him as they sat together under a blanket with mugs of hot chocolate in their hands.
Tucker had borrowed some of Wash’s clothes, which were a bit more than a little too big for him. They watched a movie, or rather, argued about the plot and characters (“I can’t believe you like the Hulk more than Captain America.” “Hey, fuck you, you fucking Hawkeye fanatic.”).
All in all, it was a good night. They talked and joked and drank hot chocolate until they were just over the edge of content, and pushing towards discomfort. Wash had asked when Tucker wanted to go home, and the smaller man, who was curled up against Wash and trying not to fall asleep, had replied, “I dunno, what if we just don’t move and we both stay here.”
He had mostly meant it as a joke, but he felt Washington nod anyway after a moment’s consideration. “Okay.”
They had been quiet for a while after that, watching a movie neither of them really remember choosing, when Tucker spoke up in a hushed voice.
“Hey, Wash?”
“Yeah?”
“I had fun today.”
“Yeah,” Wash said with an audible smile. “I had fun, too.”
There was silence for a few moments, and then, “Hey, Wash?”
“Yeah?”
“I like you.”
“I like you, too.”
“No,” Tucker shifted a bit, “I mean I like you.”
“Yeah,” Wash replied, stifling a yawn. “I know what you meant.”
“Oh,” Tucker said quietly, but he was smiling. “Hey, Wash?”
“Yeah?”
“We should make this a thing. Us.”
“Yeah,” Wash agreed, unable to hold back the yawn this time. “We should.”
“So we’re a thing now?”
“Yeah, we’re a thing now.”
“Cool,” Tucker said as he drifted off, the movie fading into background noise that didn’t make any sense, and didn’t have to.
“Yeah,” Wash mumbled as he let sleep take him. “Cool.”
Back in the present, Washington continued. “Do you, um, do you remember that conversation we had?” He asked, referencing the next afternoon when they had woken up tangled together on his couch.
“Which one?” Tucker asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
“The one about my sexuality.”
“Oh,” Tucker nodded. “Totally. You’re kind-of-sexual.”
Wash smirked, and felt some of his nerves ease. “Demisexual.”
“Right, that.”
“And you remember what it means?”
Tucker nodded again. “Yeah, you need emotional bonding and stuff in order to want to do the do. Bowchickabowwow.”
“Right,” Wash continued, feeling his mouth go dry. He glanced at Tucker and then looked away again. “I, um. You remember when I said that sex was a -- was a possibility for us, but it wasn’t a guarantee?”
“Yeah, I remember that.”
“Well we, we haven’t had sex yet.” Wash felt his palms get a little sweaty, and wished he could calm himself simply by wanting to be calm. “And I-- I don’t think that, um. I mean, you’re very attractive, and it’s nothing personal, I just, I don’t. Um.”
“You don’t want to have sex with me?” Tucker asked slowly, carefully. Wash couldn’t pick out any emotions in his voice, and somehow that made it worse.
“It’s not that-- I mean it is. It is that. I don’t want to, and I -- I don’t think I ever will.”
Tucker was quiet for a few seconds, and Wash thought that his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He willed Tucker to just say something, anything, but it didn’t work, and he could feel himself about to make up for the silence before he could even think about his words.
“I-- I still want to be in a relationship with you!” Wash blurted nervously. “I think that what we have is going really well, and you’re really great, and I have a lot of feelings for you, just not those kinds of feelings, and I just--”
“Wash,” Tucker cut in, stopping the rambling. “Wash, look at me.”
Hesitantly, he did. He could feel his blush go down past his neck and over his chest, and he thanked whatever higher power there was that he was wearing a shirt to hide it.
“It’s okay,” Tucker said gently, reaching for Wash’s hand. “Really, it’s fine. I knew sex wasn’t a definite thing, and it’s totally okay for you to not feel that way about me, dude. As long as you’re still attracted to me, like, romantically, then this’ll work out.”
“Oh.” Wash mumbled, dumbfounded. “I… didn’t expect you to be so okay with this.”
Tucker rolled his eyes, but squeezed Wash’s hand. “Give me some credit here, babe. If I was only with you for sex, trust me, I wouldn’t have stuck around for-- what month is it?”
Wash smiled at him. “November.”
Tucker counted quietly on the hand that wasn’t occupied with Wash’s. “Six months! Holy shit six months. Wow. That’s a long time, shout out to us, am I right?”
Wash’s smile grew. “Yeah, shout out to us.”
Tucker gave him a grin. “I can live without sex, but just like ‘stud’, I put in the STD, and all I need is U.”
“Get the fuck away from me.”
Tucker laughed, “Wash!” He called as the blonde began to walk away, shaking his head and mumbling things like, “I can’t believe him” and “it was such a nice moment” and “I should have expected this from him.” Tucker called again, “Wash! Wash wait!”
The man turned around, and gave him a glare. “What?” he asked in his best I’m-annoyed-with-you voice that Tucker was oh so familiar with.
“If I had to rate you from one to ten--”
“Oh my god, do not finish that fucking sentence.”
“I’d rate you a nine--” Tucker continued, shit eating grin on his face as Wash stalked closer to the couch, “--because I am the one you ne-- ow, fuck!”
Wash was the one laughing now, watching as Tucker reacted to the pillow that had just been thrown in his face. “Serves you right, fucker.”
Tucker threw it back. “I am a good person. I do not deserve this.”
Washington snorted and fell back on the couch next to him. “Whatever.”
“Whatever, you!” Tucker replied, accommodating Wash as the man moved to rest his head in Tucker’s lap. Tucker ran a hand through Wash’s hair, watching as the man got comfortable and closed his eyes.
The blonde made a content noise, a tiny smile on his face, and the sarcasm that taints his words surprised no one. “If only your come backs were as good as your pick up lines, then you’d be perfect.”
“Fuck you, I am perfect.”
Wash opened up one eye, and looked at Tucker. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “I guess you kind of are.”
Before Tucker could get too thrilled with the sentiment, Wash continued, “Perfectly a giant fucking nerd.”
“Says the biggest dweeb in the galaxy!”
Wash laughed, and turned his head towards the TV. “What were you watching?”
“Twilight.”
“Seriously?”
“Hey, fuck you, dude. Don’t judge.” Tucker turned the television back on. “You wanna watch and trash talk with me?”
“Absolutely,” Wash grinned, all of his earlier worries having left his mind and been replaced with something warm and comforting, like hot chocolate after a night spent shivering from the cold.