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Celestial Being's internal communications are, technically speaking, monitored. Does anyone actually look at them? No. Have there been stern warnings about these communications being monitored? Yes. Did Neil, personally, get publicly reprimanded for sending "stakeout, more like who wants to get their steak out, am i right 💃" to someone, does not matter who, mid-mission, citing "vulgarity"? Perhaps. This is why it is important to communicate anything that you don't want others to hear in-person, and to be as discreet as possible.
(It wasn't vulgar, for the record, Neil was just hungry. The steak was not his penis.)
"Tieria," Neil starts, looking around to ensure there is nobody else around, "You want to come to my room tonight?"
"For what purpose, Lockon Stratos." It's not even a question. The man hasn't figured out how to voice the concept of a question mark in a normal conversation yet, he only knows how to do it when yelling at people. Kind of cute.
"Cavorting." The vast majority of Celestial Being does not have English as a first language, so in theory, they should not know this word. Tieria seems like the type who would, though, considering he definitely used the word "cogent" in a sentence the other day. "I'll bring my strap if you bring yours."
Tieria has said in previous heated sessions that he does not possess typical human male genitalia, which is both definitely something that a normal human being would say and also definitely means that Tieria is, like him, transgender. He knows it.
"Understood. Twenty-one o'clock." It's still not a question. What if he had plans besides boning at that time, Tieria? What then? C'mon, man! Before he can voice these concerns, Tieria is out the door.
Tieria does not understand many human customs. He almost understands, he thinks, and then a certain Lockon Stratos insists that he bring a "strap"? His queries to Veda are subject to review at any time. He cannot clarify the meaning of "strap". He knows exactly what Lockon Stratos means, and he supposes he will have to learn what the significance of this to sexual relations is as he goes.
The exact second Neil's watch changes to 21:00, Tieria opens--does not knock, just opens--the door to his quarters. It would be rude, if it weren't at least mildly endearing and he wasn't a bit horny about it right now.
"Hey," he calls out, down to his boxers and binder, digging through his drawers, "Gimme a second. I'm just getting out my strap."
"I brought mine, as well." Tieria says, very normally.
"Oh, great, we'll see who..." Neil pulls his strap and harness out of his bedside drawer, lube and condoms sitting on the bed already, and turns just in time to stare directly into the barrel of Tieria's gun. "What the actual fuck?"
"I brought my strap." He says this the way one would say the sky is blue or people die when they are killed, then looks at Neil's strap--as in, dildo--and makes a face of almost-disgust. "What is that?"
"My...strap." Neil's face is pale, still staring at the gun. He is used to guns, it's in his fucking codename, he just didn't think he'd see one at this time of year, at this time of day, in this part of space, localized entirely in his bedroom. "Where is your penis, Tieria?"
Tieria pulls down his pants in one fell swoop. Neil considers asking him to pull the fucking trigger.
"What...did you mean when you said you didn't have typical human male genitals, then?"
"I am infertile." Holy shit, just kill him now. "Lockon Stratos, is the strap your penis?"
"The strap is my penis." The strap is his penis. His Lockon Strap-os, one might say. His Cock-on-strap-os. Yeah, that one's better. Perfect. No notes. "It's called that because we..." He holds up his harness in his other hand, quite pathetically, if he's being honest about it, "Strap."
"You were going to put that thing in me?" Neil would almost give him a star for correctly using a question mark in a sentence if he didn't still, somehow, have a gun pointed at him and if Tieria wasn't looking at his strap like it had teeth and would bite at any given opportunity. "It's red and sparkly."
"Yeah, like Trans-Am, because I Am-Tr..." Pause, "You wouldn't get the pun I was about to make."
"You were going to put that thing in me." Tieria repeats, completely unphased by his attempt at punning.
"I mean, yeah, if you wanted to. Or you could've put yours in me, I'm all about having fun." Tieria's gaze drifts towards Neil's boxers, then towards the gun again. "The penis . No guns." Why does he look mildly disappointed at that? "Look. I'm so sorry, I cannot do this. Can you put your pants back on?"
Begrudgingly, Tieria obliges. He puts down his gun and pulls up his pants while Neil fumbles around for a shirt. The two of them sit on the edge of his bed in absolute silence for a solid five minutes, both individually boring a hole in the wall with their gazes, before Tieria speaks again.
"...So the gun cannot be used for..."
"I'm leaving. Good night, Tieria."
"But these are your quarters--"
"Good night, Tieria."
