milliways_bar | (no subject)

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(no subject)

By now, Curtis has resigned himself to losing time every so often. If a day seems to pass quicker than he expects, or he looks out a window and blinks in surprise when he sees the moon instead of the sun? Yeah, that's kinda par for the course for him. Seems like eighteen years in a metal box have permanently fucked up that part of his brain, and since there's nothing he can do about it, better to just roll with it and try to make it work.

But he's never lost time quite like this before.

One minute he's up in the gym, and the next, almost instantly, he's down at a table in the bar. There's a notebook open in front of him, full of little sketches of...cartoon bears? And he's holding a pencil like he'd been the one drawing them.

Carefully, very carefully, Curtis sets down the pencil. The back of his hand looks -- weird. Skewed a little bigger, or something. His eyes widen as they travel up his arm and he realizes it's not just his hand.

And --

His left arm's back. It's whole. It's just as big as the other one.

What the fuck.

Eventually he'll stop staring at his arms and hands like he's never seen them before. And when he gets up and catches his reflection in the mirror above the bar, he'll be in for an even bigger shock.

[ooc: bodyswap shenanigans, activate! catch him at his table or somewhere else in the bar; post is open until the plot wraps, with the usual caveats for slow.]

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He will not laugh. He Will Not Laugh, dammit.

(He won't kiss her, either, much as he wants to when she's being so goddamn adorable.)

"Right," he says, as straight-faced as he can -- which isn't very. Curtis slings an arm around her shoulders; that seems pretty safe, at least. "Got it. Of course."

She lets herself be pulled into his embrace, and she can't help but put her arms around his waist. This body is strong and healthy. And she's desperately trying to ignore how deliciously male it is.

"The gym. Let's make sure you're -- he's okay. And then we can decide what to do from there."

Curtis nods.

The gym's only a couple flights of stairs up from the bar: not much, but enough to make Curtis' legs ache most days. Sometimes even enough to wind him if he's going too fast. But this time? It's absurd how easy it is. He feels like he took a casual stroll across the bar instead of a trek up the stairs.

A tiny flicker of resentment zips through his mind. This could've been me.

He squashes it flat.

When they're almost to the gym, he unwinds his arm from Dejah's shoulders, just in case, before peering into the room.

"Ah, shit."

She doesn't need the Voice of Barsoom to figure out what he's seeing.

"He's gone."

"Yeah. Son of a bitch."

Curtis sighs, heavily, and rubs a hand over his way-too-long hair. "He's gotta be around here somewhere. I can't leave the bar. I mean, not on my own."

She catches his hand. "All right. You're still feeling all right? No blurred vision? No vertigo or nausea?"

"Yeah. I feel..."

A small, helpless smile.

"I feel great."

Physically, anyway.

She looks him up and down again, and gives him a crooked smile.

"It's really not fair, is it? This bar. This place."

The smile wobbles a little at the end, and he can see her jaw clench.

The noise Curtis makes is barely a laugh, and he almost chokes on it anyway.

"Yeah, well I'm kinda used to it."

It's not bitter, really. It's just...true. He spreads his arms a little, gives her a questioning look: okay if I hug you? He's got no idea if it's what she needs right now, or if it'd just make things worse.

God, he misses the Voice.

Edited 2015-11-09 04:06 (UTC)

She bites her lip and nods. And kind of crumples against his chest.

"Can we go upstairs now?"

"Yeah, of course."

He wraps his arms around her, carefully at first as he seeks out the middle ground between 'secure' and 'too tight.' Once he's found it, Curtis settles into the embrace with a sigh, resting his head atop hers for a moment.

"You already went for your run, right?"

She nods, her cheek against his sternum, her arms curled against her chest.

"We can have someone post a notice in the infirmary. With your image and our room number. So your -- his -- so they can find you."

"That might work," he murmurs. Just as careful, he smooths a hand over her hair. "Plus, I mean -- I'm down in the bar enough already. We've got to run into each other eventually."

A hesitant smile.

"And. If you go for another run while I'm still -- like this. I might actually be able to keep up if you want company."

He doesn't want to drive this guy's body too hard, but he's got a feeling he could knock out a couple miles pretty easily.

She pulls back enough to look up into his face, more than a little surprised by his offer.

"Really? You'd be all right coming for a run with me?"

"I think so, yeah."

He shrugs; his smile's a little rueful, but much firmer.

"This guy's in way better shape than me."

Her hand slips up to light on his cheek again, her fingertips stroking over bare skin instead of his beard.

"I meant, would you be all right with -- being outside for so long?"

A tiny frown as he thinks.

"I did okay when we went out to the meadow," he says. "That was...what, a couple hours?"

And he did all right being under so much sky in Helium.

"Worth a try."

Dejah pulls back just enough to look into his face and he can see that light behind her eyes again.

"I would like that very much. If you're still like this tomorrow, we can go in the morning."

She huffed a tiny sigh. "Goddess, I wish I could kiss you right now."

He chuckles, that helpless note returning to his voice. "Me too."

Curtis draws her close again.

"Rain check for after this gets fixed?"

"Rain check?"

She snuggles up to him, her fingers trying to find purchase in his shirt. The body beneath is too warm, too muscular. But she knows it's Curtis in there.

This fucking place.

"Oh, um -- " Absently, he rubs small circles between her shoulder blades as he ponders how to phrase it. "Put something off until the situation's better. Sometimes if there was gonna be a big event outside, like a party or a sports game, it'd get cancelled if it rained too much. So...rain check."

Another quiet laugh of disbelief. "Too much rain. Imagine that. So yes, fair warning. When you get your beard back, I'm going to have to reacquaint myself with your kiss. Recalibrate, possibly. Just to make sure, you know. That everything's back to normal."

Solemn: "It'll be a hard project, but I think we can manage. Just have to, you know."

His chest rumbles with a badly-suppressed laugh.

"Take our time."

For a moment, the gravel returns to his voice and she can feel him, taunting her. Teasing her. Driving her mad all over again.

His reward is a low whine of frustration as she thumps him lightly on the chest with her balled up fist.

"Stop. Just stop it now. Or so help me, I'll make you sleep in the tub."

"Sorry."

Curtis, it should be said, sounds much less apologetic than when he accidentally crushed her hand. Probably has something to do with the emerging laughter.

One more quick hug, and he releases Dejah. "Back to your place?"

To talk. And maybe have tea. And do nothing more than cuddle until this is all straightened out. Yes.