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[nostalgiabomb]

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[nostalgiabomb]

[ Charlie may not resist, but Peter sure as fuck does. Because he's still itching for a fight, and he needs an outlet for all this fucking frustration that's been building up and up and up, and he's bursting like a fucking volcano. He turns on the bouncer once they're out of the bar and gets in a couple of good hits before the second bouncer grabs Peter from behind, traps Peter's arms behind him. The first bouncer gets him square in the gut, and the air flies out of Peter's lungs. Another hit across the face, and Peter tastes blood. Another hit, then another, and another, and another, and the last sends Peter spinning to the ground. The bouncers laugh quietly and head back inside.

He's too dazed to do anything but stay down, forehead pressed against the ground and blood dripping from his nose; eventually his brains stop ricocheting around enough to coalesce into one thought: Maybe attacking the big, burly bouncer with giant fists wasn't his brightest idea.

His second thought is this: Today is a bad fucking day. ]

[animated]

[ He hears Peter take a beating from the bouncers, and he winces with every blow. If he hadn't been so goddamn petty, then neither of them would be in this position.

Somehow that seems like a sorry excuse.

He rolls over, ignoring the aches in his back, and gets to his feet. He moves to where Peter lay, gingerly placing a hand on his shoulder. ]

You still conscious?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Two things happen at once:

One, he's too busy breathing through his aches and pains to remember that he's supposed to be pissed. And then Charlie has his hand on his shoulder, and-- there's something instantly calming about his touch, like coming inside from playing in the snow and Mom pressing a warm mug of hot chocolate in his hands. Like sinking into bed after a long day of shooting people in the face. Like landing in a storm and listening to the rain beat out a constant rhythm on the hull. Peter sighs and thinks, oh, thank god.

Two, he jerks away, rolling onto his back and aggravating every fucking bruise from the mess that was tonight, and he bites back a moan. ]

Fuck. Don't-- don't fucking touch me, okay?

[animated]

[ He felt it- a small surge of everything is okay, and then Peter jerks away. Charlie draws his hand back like he's been burned, glaring at Peter again. ]

What the hell is your problem?

[nostalgiabomb]

Oh, fuck. Off.

[ He says it through gritted teeth, then turns onto his side to push himself up -- and he wonders for a moment if maybe staying horizontal was the better option. But it's too late now, and he gets himself to his feet.

He uses the back of his hand to wipe blood from his nose, but he just ends up smearing it across his face; he starts heading back to where the Milano is docked, which thankfully isn't too far away. ]

I'm going back to the ship. Do whatever the fuck you want.

[animated]

[ Do whatever the fuck he wants? Fine.

He's going to follow Peter. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ -- not as planned. ]

The hell are you doing?

[animated]

Following you.

I'll spell it out for you in case it escaped your notice: We. Need. To. Talk.

[nostalgiabomb]

No, we really. Fucking. Don't.


Go, I dunno-- find a library or something. Bother someone else.

[animated]

You might be perfectly content to avoid this for the rest of your life, but I'm not.

[nostalgiabomb]

Tough tits, starshine. Life's full of little disappointments.

[animated]

It is. So you'd better suck it up and realize that I'm not leaving you alone until we have a conversation.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ But what if he just-- didn't talk?

What if he just kept his mouth shut as he keyed in the airlock code for the Milano?

What if he just stayed silent as he stomped toward the medbay?

What if he did that? ]

[animated]

[ Charlie will follow along behind him, just as silent. Until they get to the medbay, and then he will shut the door behind him. ]

I had no idea you were this much of a child, Peter.

[nostalgiabomb]

Oh, I'm sorry. That must be so difficult for you.

[animated]

[ He doesn't dignify that with an answer, and instead moves around to try and catch Peter's gaze ]

What are you so afraid of?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Fuck, he's getting way too close, and Peter has to concentrate to keep that feeling at bay.

(As it is, he feels a twinge of it, uncurling hesitantly in his chest, and shit, if this keeps up--) ]

Okay, seriously, if you're gonna stick around, you need to take a goddamn step back.

[animated]

[ He swallows, taking a step back. This feeling isn't going to mean anything if they don't figure this out on their own first. ]

Now answer my question.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He doesn't bother to hide the way he relaxes once Charlie moves away. It takes him a quick second to compose himself again, and when he finally does, he spreads his hands, musters all of the bravado he can. ]

I'm not afraid of anything, alright? So stop trying to psychoanalyze me, Freud.

[animated]

Yes you are. Every time I get close to you, you panic.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ -- shit. ]

Don't know if you managed to forget already, Endora, but there wasn't much panicking when we fought, earlier.

[animated]

And what do you call what just happened like ten seconds ago?

[nostalgiabomb]

What, I can't be concerned that you'll try to take another swing at me?

[animated]

[ Charlie gives him a flat look.

And takes a big step towards Peter. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ fuck fuck what the fuck is he doing--

Peter tries to put distance between them and only succeeds in walking straight into the bulkhead, and he bites out a curse--

And that warmth grows, twists and spins in his chest, coils up into his throat-- ]

Get the fuck away from me. [ It's half-choked out, but it doesn't have any of the same sharpness as before. ]