Forge & April | Playing with Fire
Jan. 7th, 2023 07:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_mayhem posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsApril pops into Forge's lab to catch up, and has quick reflexes with the fire extinguisher after there's a minor incident.
Forge, as a general rule, hated Lawyer Days. But they were necessary to make sure that not only was his piece of Eagle Arms, Inc was being looked after but his personal fortune was being well-tended and his wishes obeyed. So about once a quarter or so he had to go get all dressy-dressy and talk to the sharks protecting him and his from the Great Unwashed. What made it worse is that this time he had to be in Dallas to do the talky-talky and sign papers and suffer through presentations.
And, invariably, inspiration would strike roughly fifteen minutes into a three-hour Powerpoint hell presentation. Which would also explain why he didn't bother changing out of his nice dress shirt and tie once he returned from eXcal's headquarters. He thought he might just have the thing to solve the power distribution problem on the new plasma shotgun.
As he wasn't completely dumb he did grab a pair of goggles and an apron to wear before coming at the plasma generator with some new ideas.
April didn’t quite bounce into his lab, but it was a near thing. She was in a fantastic mood, it was a nice morning (for winter in New York), and Boris had been incredibly well-behaved on their morning run and play. Her steps faltered slightly as she took in the sight of Forge dressed up, the neatly tailored slacks and dress shirt a far cry from the normal t-shirts and jeans he normally wore. She came to a stop a few feet into the lab, door closed safely behind her, and swallowed dryly. This was… incredibly, insanely unfair.
She shook herself out of it, noticing the bright sparks coming from the corner of the lab he was sat in, and fumbled in a drawer to grab the set she kept on hand. “Ask me why I’m in a great mood,” she called out once she had the goggles secure over her own eyes. “Three guesses, the kolaches you sent and you looking extremely fine in those dress clothes are not it but are a definite bonus.”
Forge didn't look up but he did eloquently snort at her. "OK, I'll bite. Why are you in such a good mood?" he asked as he continued to make adjustments to the plasma flow regulator circuits. Sparks sprayed about him, the bulk of them landing on the bench or on his apron.
“You’re looking at the newest X-Man, baybeeeee!” April exclaimed with a fistpump and grin. “Well, I’m meeting Kyle later for the introductory stuff but I’m on the team email and roster now, at least.” She pulled a stool close enough to chat but far enough away that the risk of getting hit by sparks was low. “Why are you dressed up? Did you come straight down here from your… wait, have you SLEPT yet? It’s Saturday! You were supposed to be back yesterday.” She’d changed out of her running gear before coming down, but she was still dressed for comfort over fashion. “Next time I want a selfie of you looking all nice like this. I sent you one from my interview!”
"You care what you look like." he said flatly as he made another set of adjustments. "I don't especially, and it was Lawyer and Contract Day. That usually makes me cranky." he said. "Got inspired on how to settle out this plasma flow issue, just need to make a few more…" he said, and then a particularly fat spark jumped from the frame of the gun he was working on and landed firmly on one of the sleeves of his nice silk button down.
Which, in the manner of such things, promptly caught fire.
April hopped up almost immediately as the spark flew, eyes casting around the room for the fire extinguisher and stretching tendrils out to grab it. Pin pulled, she swept it right over Forge’s hand and sleeve until the spark was gone. “Off, turn it off, that’s gonna need first aid,” she demanded.
Forge glanced at his hand - his meat hand - and shrugged. "Enhh." he said dismissively, then loosened the tie to throw it into a nearby trash can. He unbuttoned his shirt as well but it was _mostly_ salvageable. Until he discovered the big hole in the sleeve. "Dammit." he said, unbuttoning his dress shirt to reveal a t-shirt beneath it. The dress shirt joined the tie in the waste bin. He looked at the desk - now covered with fire suppressant foam - then looked at the plasma injection array - and went over to retrieve his ruined shirt from the bin to be used as a rag to clean things off the array he'd been working on.
“Don’t ehhh at me.” April’s voice was stern but muffled, head ducking into a cabinet for a first aid kit. “Plasma’s not like getting a damn sunburn. Put the shiny firemaker down and let me see the damage.”
Forge ignored her, instead following the suggestions of his subconscious. He was close, he knew it.
The sound of welding had her jerking her head up and clipping the top of the cabinet. April let out a curse at the connection, gingerly patting the back of her head. No blood at least. Good. She pulled her head out of the cabinet, first aid kit clutched in her hands, and turned around to confront Forge.
Who… seemed to have dropped into one of his fugue working states. Great. Awesome.
Normally she was fine with it - enjoyed getting to watch him work, even - but with the plasma and him not in a full set of protective gear she was a very uncomfortable combination of worried and increasingly annoyed. She set the first aid kit down on her bench and looked for another fire extinguisher. Hopefully she wouldn’t need it, but it’d be a good thing to have on hand just in case.
Forge was deep in the throes of building. He was working on autopilot, the math beautiful and his hands steady. Unfortunately for his subconscious power, the earlier arcing had damaged a containment circuit just enough that when a substantial amount of power was applied to it, the circuit would fail.
Which is exactly what happened and for the second time that day a plasma fire broke out in the engineering lab. Not a great one - the design had failsafes against ruptures of the plasma core - but enough of it to spit more flame, which proceeded to land all over Forge and set his T-shirt on fire from under his apron. Bank shot of plasma, one in a million shot.
April felt like she’d turned just a moment when Forge caught on fire… again. “Hellfuckshit,” came out strung together as she unleashed the fire extinguisher on him yet again. “You are being a sleep-deprived idiot,” she seethed, stomping closer with the first aid kit in hand. “Turn the welder off, two fires is too many fires. Welding is done for today.”
Forge looked at her, then looked away to shed both the now thoroughly scorched apron and his T-shirt. He was wiry but the most striking trait was the thick ribbon of burn scars that started just below his armpit, writhed across his ribs, and snaked their way down under his slacks. Once the clothing was gone he looked at the plasma projection unit, then expressionlessly at April.
April took in the scarring. How could she not? But she chose to ignore it in favor of providing immediate aid. “Arm out, let me see where the spark got you earlier,” she coaxed, rolling closer and setting the first aid kit beside him. “No more plasma welding until we get you a full suit and helmet in here, okay? I don’t like seeing my friends catch on fire.”
Forge blinked and it was almost palpable when his subconscious checked out and his consciousness checked in. "Ow." he said, trying to turn to not present his scarred side for April's inspection.
“I’ve already seen your torso, stop trying to hide like you’re a Victorian maiden or something. It’s making it harder for me to get to your arm.” The scold was without heat, and she kept a lightly firm grip on his arm so she could both see the burn and lightly run over it with soap and water. “This should really soak in cool water for a bit, but I have a feeling you’re about three seconds away from rabbiting on me,” she added, rinsing and patting the area dry before applying ointment and a bandage. “How bad did the spark on your apron get you?”
Forge shrugged. "Had worse." he said in the understatement of the day.
April rolled her eyes, tempted to poke him in the arm the way that she and May had when one of them decided the other was being particularly annoying. “Let me dress it, unless you’d like to explain to Doc Grey why I carried you to the medlab like a sack of potatoes at too early o’clock on a weekend.”
"Fine." he spit out, holding out his arm for her to dress while still not trying to show her his extensive collection of artillery shell burn scars. "Just make it quick."
“You’re being an asshole.” It was a mild rebuke. She remembered how grumpy Dad had been when she or May had to deal with his leg, and his scarring wasn’t as profound as Forge’s was. They didn’t bother her in an aesthetic sense, but she did mentally hope they weren’t the cause of much pain.
Deft hands applied the same treatment to the part of his chest that had taken the spark as she had his arm, working quietly as she debated whether or not to say anything about the scarring. “They don’t bother me,” was what she finally settled on. “You don’t have to hide your scars around me unless it’s a personal preference.”
Forge shot her an extremely dubious look. "Uh-huh." he said as noncommittally as he could.
“I mean it. I’ve seen my dad’s. I’ve seen some of his coworkers after a SWAT raid gone bad before they got ushered into an ambulance. They don’t bother me.” April finished with the ointment and a bandage, fingertips tracing the edge of scar and medical tape as she verified that the area was fully covered. “The only reason I don’t have some particularly gnarly ones of my own is luck and a healing factor.” She’d felt the heat of the bomb as she’d been sucked into the portal. That her back wasn’t a mess of fire scarring was a luck she could only attribute to her other, less-controllable side.
"Nice." he said as he looked at the apron and his shirts, both completely unwearable. "Great." he said with a sigh. "Lemme go see if we have anything I can wear to go get a new shirt."
April pulled her hoodie over her head, leaving her in a cropped tank top and sweats. “I don’t mind the shirtless look, it’s good on you,” she teased, holding the soft, baggy cotton out. “This should work well enough, I prefer my hoodies on the baggy side. Might be a little short in the torso and arms, but it should fit your shoulders.”
Forge was torn. Should he look? Should he not look? She was offering him her hoodie, so it's not like he pressured her or anything, but at the same time two bone-deep instincts were at war. One of them said "Female skin, yay!" and the other said. "Dude. Just don't." They were having a loud argument in his head and he tried to split the difference by only looking a little. That didn't work out terribly well but luckily for him the hoodie fit around his torso, which is what he cared about. "Thanks." he said, a tough gruffly, then looked towards the door. "I'll be back in a bit to clean up the messes." he said.
April waved him off. “Take your time, I’ll work on the fire extinguisher foam while you’re changing.”
Forge ducked out with unseemly haste to bolt back to his room to go change. Weirdly, her hoodie smelled pleasant. He tried not to think about it and was steadfastly ignoring what his body suggested that he do.
April tucked the first aid kit back in its spot, then made a note on the safety clipboard to get new fire extinguishers delivered asap. “Right, cleaning,” she said into the empty lab, moving to the sink and grabbing the bucket from underneath it. “Hm, maybe vacuum first actually?” She flipped the music on, turning it down to something a little less eardrum-poundingly loud, then got to work, running the shopvac over the worst of the debris on the floor.
Forge re-appeared after a few minutes, wearing an Iron Maiden T-shirt with a few holes in it and holding her hoodie in his flesh-and-blood hand. "Thanks." he said, clearly embarrassed, as he gently put the hoodie down on a clean segment of lab bench. "Look, I…" he said, and then stammered to a silent halt.
“You’re welcome.” She paused in her cleaning, slipping the hoodie back over her head easily before sitting on the bench. “What’s up?”
Welp. Now or never, Forge, and if she kills you you will have gone out being brave, risking everything. He leaned forward, towards April, and awkwardly attempted to kiss her.
He missed just slightly, lips brushing along her cheek as her eyes widened. “Wait, sec, bad angle for that,” April said as she stood up, stepping into Forge’s space. She slipped her arms around his waist and tipped her head back slightly. “Try that again?”
He looked more than a little panicky but nodded. "Yeah. OK." he said and then went in for Attempt Number Two. That one, he thought, went much better. Still room for him to die but at least he'd risked everything.
April let out a little sigh as their lips met. It was a little awkward, and clumsy, but it was also sweet. She squeezed his sides lightly. “You can hug me back, if you want. It’s fine, I’ll tell you if your hands stray into not yet territory.”
His eyes went a little wide at that but he acceded to her request. He didn't want to think right then, he was going to die and she was going to kill him and snap his arms off and he wasn't sure he cared right then. So he gingerly wrapped his arms around her, flesh over machine, and tried to just … stop thinking.
“You’re good at this whole hugging thing,” she said with a small laugh as she relaxed into his hold. “I’m gonna demand like… all of the hugs now. Not when you’re actually working, but the rest of the time. No more being stiff on the opposite end of the couch while we’re watching movies like you’re being surrounded by piranhas.”
"And here I thought you were going to rip my arms off." he said with a shaky laugh.
“I’ve been flirting with you for a while now, I wouldn’t waste all that effort ripping your arms off,” April teased. “And if I hadn’t been interested, I would’ve just politely told you so. We’re adults, there’s no need to be an asshole about lack of interest so long as the other person listens when you tell them that, right?” Forge’s laugh was nice under her ear, even with the shakiness.
"Yeah, well, I'm an idiot who has had bad experiences." he said, still fairly shakily. Then, testing the limits of her tolerances, he went in again for another kiss, longer this time. Technique was still nothing to write home about but the interest and desire were there.
Her eyes were bright as they pulled apart, and she leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “You’ll respect my no, slow down, or stop, I’ll respect yours, and we can muddle along with a little less bad experiences, maybe? I’m uh… not super experienced though. Some fumbling around in college.”
Forge swallowed. Heavily. "Let's just say that my experiences were probably abusive, although I was much more of an idiot then than I am now." he said. "Plus, yanno, Army, dependasaurus, rubbernecking the carnage."
“Rank and pension chasers?” April shuddered. “Gross. I can see that turning anyone off to the whole concept.” Her hands had slid up Forge’s covered back as they kissed, thumbs rubbing slow circles into his spine. “We can learn and get some experience together then? Scribble over some of the bad memories, make some new ones?”
"Before the Army, let's just say little Johnny was, well, let's be real, fucking clueless. And kittens do like to sharpen their claws…" he said. "So by the time I got to the Army, I was very much in no-thank-you mode. Then Afghanistan and all that, and as it turns out women don't tend to like people that are missing limbs. Who'da thunk?"
“Women who are idiots, maybe,” she replied with an eyeroll. “It’s fine, you don’t have to justify not being the standard PFC Dumbass who thinks with his dick instead of his rifle. Or his brains. Or how dumb people are hopped up on puberty hormones. We can go as slow as we want.”
"Welp. You haven't murdered me yet, so I'd say things are going well." he said before trying and mostly failing to get his suave on. He did, however, score another kiss out of the deal.
“Mhm,” April agreed, before reluctantly pulling back. “Finish cleaning up in here, then we can do a little more of that?” And probably a nap. Hopefully this wasn’t just sleep deprivation running the show.
Forge nodded, then reluctantly stepped back. "Right. Business before pleasure." he said with a stupid goofy grin as he went for the cleaning supplies to clean up the mess.
Forge, as a general rule, hated Lawyer Days. But they were necessary to make sure that not only was his piece of Eagle Arms, Inc was being looked after but his personal fortune was being well-tended and his wishes obeyed. So about once a quarter or so he had to go get all dressy-dressy and talk to the sharks protecting him and his from the Great Unwashed. What made it worse is that this time he had to be in Dallas to do the talky-talky and sign papers and suffer through presentations.
And, invariably, inspiration would strike roughly fifteen minutes into a three-hour Powerpoint hell presentation. Which would also explain why he didn't bother changing out of his nice dress shirt and tie once he returned from eXcal's headquarters. He thought he might just have the thing to solve the power distribution problem on the new plasma shotgun.
As he wasn't completely dumb he did grab a pair of goggles and an apron to wear before coming at the plasma generator with some new ideas.
April didn’t quite bounce into his lab, but it was a near thing. She was in a fantastic mood, it was a nice morning (for winter in New York), and Boris had been incredibly well-behaved on their morning run and play. Her steps faltered slightly as she took in the sight of Forge dressed up, the neatly tailored slacks and dress shirt a far cry from the normal t-shirts and jeans he normally wore. She came to a stop a few feet into the lab, door closed safely behind her, and swallowed dryly. This was… incredibly, insanely unfair.
She shook herself out of it, noticing the bright sparks coming from the corner of the lab he was sat in, and fumbled in a drawer to grab the set she kept on hand. “Ask me why I’m in a great mood,” she called out once she had the goggles secure over her own eyes. “Three guesses, the kolaches you sent and you looking extremely fine in those dress clothes are not it but are a definite bonus.”
Forge didn't look up but he did eloquently snort at her. "OK, I'll bite. Why are you in such a good mood?" he asked as he continued to make adjustments to the plasma flow regulator circuits. Sparks sprayed about him, the bulk of them landing on the bench or on his apron.
“You’re looking at the newest X-Man, baybeeeee!” April exclaimed with a fistpump and grin. “Well, I’m meeting Kyle later for the introductory stuff but I’m on the team email and roster now, at least.” She pulled a stool close enough to chat but far enough away that the risk of getting hit by sparks was low. “Why are you dressed up? Did you come straight down here from your… wait, have you SLEPT yet? It’s Saturday! You were supposed to be back yesterday.” She’d changed out of her running gear before coming down, but she was still dressed for comfort over fashion. “Next time I want a selfie of you looking all nice like this. I sent you one from my interview!”
"You care what you look like." he said flatly as he made another set of adjustments. "I don't especially, and it was Lawyer and Contract Day. That usually makes me cranky." he said. "Got inspired on how to settle out this plasma flow issue, just need to make a few more…" he said, and then a particularly fat spark jumped from the frame of the gun he was working on and landed firmly on one of the sleeves of his nice silk button down.
Which, in the manner of such things, promptly caught fire.
April hopped up almost immediately as the spark flew, eyes casting around the room for the fire extinguisher and stretching tendrils out to grab it. Pin pulled, she swept it right over Forge’s hand and sleeve until the spark was gone. “Off, turn it off, that’s gonna need first aid,” she demanded.
Forge glanced at his hand - his meat hand - and shrugged. "Enhh." he said dismissively, then loosened the tie to throw it into a nearby trash can. He unbuttoned his shirt as well but it was _mostly_ salvageable. Until he discovered the big hole in the sleeve. "Dammit." he said, unbuttoning his dress shirt to reveal a t-shirt beneath it. The dress shirt joined the tie in the waste bin. He looked at the desk - now covered with fire suppressant foam - then looked at the plasma injection array - and went over to retrieve his ruined shirt from the bin to be used as a rag to clean things off the array he'd been working on.
“Don’t ehhh at me.” April’s voice was stern but muffled, head ducking into a cabinet for a first aid kit. “Plasma’s not like getting a damn sunburn. Put the shiny firemaker down and let me see the damage.”
Forge ignored her, instead following the suggestions of his subconscious. He was close, he knew it.
The sound of welding had her jerking her head up and clipping the top of the cabinet. April let out a curse at the connection, gingerly patting the back of her head. No blood at least. Good. She pulled her head out of the cabinet, first aid kit clutched in her hands, and turned around to confront Forge.
Who… seemed to have dropped into one of his fugue working states. Great. Awesome.
Normally she was fine with it - enjoyed getting to watch him work, even - but with the plasma and him not in a full set of protective gear she was a very uncomfortable combination of worried and increasingly annoyed. She set the first aid kit down on her bench and looked for another fire extinguisher. Hopefully she wouldn’t need it, but it’d be a good thing to have on hand just in case.
Forge was deep in the throes of building. He was working on autopilot, the math beautiful and his hands steady. Unfortunately for his subconscious power, the earlier arcing had damaged a containment circuit just enough that when a substantial amount of power was applied to it, the circuit would fail.
Which is exactly what happened and for the second time that day a plasma fire broke out in the engineering lab. Not a great one - the design had failsafes against ruptures of the plasma core - but enough of it to spit more flame, which proceeded to land all over Forge and set his T-shirt on fire from under his apron. Bank shot of plasma, one in a million shot.
April felt like she’d turned just a moment when Forge caught on fire… again. “Hellfuckshit,” came out strung together as she unleashed the fire extinguisher on him yet again. “You are being a sleep-deprived idiot,” she seethed, stomping closer with the first aid kit in hand. “Turn the welder off, two fires is too many fires. Welding is done for today.”
Forge looked at her, then looked away to shed both the now thoroughly scorched apron and his T-shirt. He was wiry but the most striking trait was the thick ribbon of burn scars that started just below his armpit, writhed across his ribs, and snaked their way down under his slacks. Once the clothing was gone he looked at the plasma projection unit, then expressionlessly at April.
April took in the scarring. How could she not? But she chose to ignore it in favor of providing immediate aid. “Arm out, let me see where the spark got you earlier,” she coaxed, rolling closer and setting the first aid kit beside him. “No more plasma welding until we get you a full suit and helmet in here, okay? I don’t like seeing my friends catch on fire.”
Forge blinked and it was almost palpable when his subconscious checked out and his consciousness checked in. "Ow." he said, trying to turn to not present his scarred side for April's inspection.
“I’ve already seen your torso, stop trying to hide like you’re a Victorian maiden or something. It’s making it harder for me to get to your arm.” The scold was without heat, and she kept a lightly firm grip on his arm so she could both see the burn and lightly run over it with soap and water. “This should really soak in cool water for a bit, but I have a feeling you’re about three seconds away from rabbiting on me,” she added, rinsing and patting the area dry before applying ointment and a bandage. “How bad did the spark on your apron get you?”
Forge shrugged. "Had worse." he said in the understatement of the day.
April rolled her eyes, tempted to poke him in the arm the way that she and May had when one of them decided the other was being particularly annoying. “Let me dress it, unless you’d like to explain to Doc Grey why I carried you to the medlab like a sack of potatoes at too early o’clock on a weekend.”
"Fine." he spit out, holding out his arm for her to dress while still not trying to show her his extensive collection of artillery shell burn scars. "Just make it quick."
“You’re being an asshole.” It was a mild rebuke. She remembered how grumpy Dad had been when she or May had to deal with his leg, and his scarring wasn’t as profound as Forge’s was. They didn’t bother her in an aesthetic sense, but she did mentally hope they weren’t the cause of much pain.
Deft hands applied the same treatment to the part of his chest that had taken the spark as she had his arm, working quietly as she debated whether or not to say anything about the scarring. “They don’t bother me,” was what she finally settled on. “You don’t have to hide your scars around me unless it’s a personal preference.”
Forge shot her an extremely dubious look. "Uh-huh." he said as noncommittally as he could.
“I mean it. I’ve seen my dad’s. I’ve seen some of his coworkers after a SWAT raid gone bad before they got ushered into an ambulance. They don’t bother me.” April finished with the ointment and a bandage, fingertips tracing the edge of scar and medical tape as she verified that the area was fully covered. “The only reason I don’t have some particularly gnarly ones of my own is luck and a healing factor.” She’d felt the heat of the bomb as she’d been sucked into the portal. That her back wasn’t a mess of fire scarring was a luck she could only attribute to her other, less-controllable side.
"Nice." he said as he looked at the apron and his shirts, both completely unwearable. "Great." he said with a sigh. "Lemme go see if we have anything I can wear to go get a new shirt."
April pulled her hoodie over her head, leaving her in a cropped tank top and sweats. “I don’t mind the shirtless look, it’s good on you,” she teased, holding the soft, baggy cotton out. “This should work well enough, I prefer my hoodies on the baggy side. Might be a little short in the torso and arms, but it should fit your shoulders.”
Forge was torn. Should he look? Should he not look? She was offering him her hoodie, so it's not like he pressured her or anything, but at the same time two bone-deep instincts were at war. One of them said "Female skin, yay!" and the other said. "Dude. Just don't." They were having a loud argument in his head and he tried to split the difference by only looking a little. That didn't work out terribly well but luckily for him the hoodie fit around his torso, which is what he cared about. "Thanks." he said, a tough gruffly, then looked towards the door. "I'll be back in a bit to clean up the messes." he said.
April waved him off. “Take your time, I’ll work on the fire extinguisher foam while you’re changing.”
Forge ducked out with unseemly haste to bolt back to his room to go change. Weirdly, her hoodie smelled pleasant. He tried not to think about it and was steadfastly ignoring what his body suggested that he do.
April tucked the first aid kit back in its spot, then made a note on the safety clipboard to get new fire extinguishers delivered asap. “Right, cleaning,” she said into the empty lab, moving to the sink and grabbing the bucket from underneath it. “Hm, maybe vacuum first actually?” She flipped the music on, turning it down to something a little less eardrum-poundingly loud, then got to work, running the shopvac over the worst of the debris on the floor.
Forge re-appeared after a few minutes, wearing an Iron Maiden T-shirt with a few holes in it and holding her hoodie in his flesh-and-blood hand. "Thanks." he said, clearly embarrassed, as he gently put the hoodie down on a clean segment of lab bench. "Look, I…" he said, and then stammered to a silent halt.
“You’re welcome.” She paused in her cleaning, slipping the hoodie back over her head easily before sitting on the bench. “What’s up?”
Welp. Now or never, Forge, and if she kills you you will have gone out being brave, risking everything. He leaned forward, towards April, and awkwardly attempted to kiss her.
He missed just slightly, lips brushing along her cheek as her eyes widened. “Wait, sec, bad angle for that,” April said as she stood up, stepping into Forge’s space. She slipped her arms around his waist and tipped her head back slightly. “Try that again?”
He looked more than a little panicky but nodded. "Yeah. OK." he said and then went in for Attempt Number Two. That one, he thought, went much better. Still room for him to die but at least he'd risked everything.
April let out a little sigh as their lips met. It was a little awkward, and clumsy, but it was also sweet. She squeezed his sides lightly. “You can hug me back, if you want. It’s fine, I’ll tell you if your hands stray into not yet territory.”
His eyes went a little wide at that but he acceded to her request. He didn't want to think right then, he was going to die and she was going to kill him and snap his arms off and he wasn't sure he cared right then. So he gingerly wrapped his arms around her, flesh over machine, and tried to just … stop thinking.
“You’re good at this whole hugging thing,” she said with a small laugh as she relaxed into his hold. “I’m gonna demand like… all of the hugs now. Not when you’re actually working, but the rest of the time. No more being stiff on the opposite end of the couch while we’re watching movies like you’re being surrounded by piranhas.”
"And here I thought you were going to rip my arms off." he said with a shaky laugh.
“I’ve been flirting with you for a while now, I wouldn’t waste all that effort ripping your arms off,” April teased. “And if I hadn’t been interested, I would’ve just politely told you so. We’re adults, there’s no need to be an asshole about lack of interest so long as the other person listens when you tell them that, right?” Forge’s laugh was nice under her ear, even with the shakiness.
"Yeah, well, I'm an idiot who has had bad experiences." he said, still fairly shakily. Then, testing the limits of her tolerances, he went in again for another kiss, longer this time. Technique was still nothing to write home about but the interest and desire were there.
Her eyes were bright as they pulled apart, and she leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “You’ll respect my no, slow down, or stop, I’ll respect yours, and we can muddle along with a little less bad experiences, maybe? I’m uh… not super experienced though. Some fumbling around in college.”
Forge swallowed. Heavily. "Let's just say that my experiences were probably abusive, although I was much more of an idiot then than I am now." he said. "Plus, yanno, Army, dependasaurus, rubbernecking the carnage."
“Rank and pension chasers?” April shuddered. “Gross. I can see that turning anyone off to the whole concept.” Her hands had slid up Forge’s covered back as they kissed, thumbs rubbing slow circles into his spine. “We can learn and get some experience together then? Scribble over some of the bad memories, make some new ones?”
"Before the Army, let's just say little Johnny was, well, let's be real, fucking clueless. And kittens do like to sharpen their claws…" he said. "So by the time I got to the Army, I was very much in no-thank-you mode. Then Afghanistan and all that, and as it turns out women don't tend to like people that are missing limbs. Who'da thunk?"
“Women who are idiots, maybe,” she replied with an eyeroll. “It’s fine, you don’t have to justify not being the standard PFC Dumbass who thinks with his dick instead of his rifle. Or his brains. Or how dumb people are hopped up on puberty hormones. We can go as slow as we want.”
"Welp. You haven't murdered me yet, so I'd say things are going well." he said before trying and mostly failing to get his suave on. He did, however, score another kiss out of the deal.
“Mhm,” April agreed, before reluctantly pulling back. “Finish cleaning up in here, then we can do a little more of that?” And probably a nap. Hopefully this wasn’t just sleep deprivation running the show.
Forge nodded, then reluctantly stepped back. "Right. Business before pleasure." he said with a stupid goofy grin as he went for the cleaning supplies to clean up the mess.
