week 13 - probably monday

[refactor]

[ So at some point on Monday, Jason and Luke both will be getting a chat request from Jack. This is probably unsurprising in itself, but when the video flickers on (since I'm assuming they have video by now sweats), the bright, pleased smile on his face may not be a surprise, but the pride in his expression just might be. He's still without his mask, and behind him is a rather quaint looking cottage, but. Enough about that. ]

Ohhh my god, you guys did great!

[ That's nothing short of glowing praise from Jack, who doesn't actually give it that easily, but. He does add on after a moment: ]

Right, uh. How ya feeling, guys? Getting stabbed kinda. Yeah, it pretty much sucks. But.

Comments

moves this here bc i'm disgusted with myself

[jackhole]

[ there is definitely a yelp from rhys as he hears jack's voice but sorry HE IS GONE...... he's so gone. it's the long legs, they come in handy.

which means when jack gets out there, there's not really any sign of rhys until -- ]

Fuck!

[ going past the cabins and in the direction of the forest will find a rhys who, uh, apparently slipped on the grass and fell pretty hard on the ground. his! socks! ARE COVERED IN MUD! what the fuck.

he's just going to lay here covering his face now because seriously, what the fuck. ]

dammit rhys

[refactor]

[ Yeah, Jack is more of an endurance guy than a sprinter, so Rhys is probably well ahead of him. Not that Jack is stopping yelling, of course, as if that would somehow get Rhys to slow down or stop. Of course, Jack is just genuinely confused that Rhys had so suddenly run off, since he has no idea what even prompted this in the first place, but the confusion also gets masked much more by his temper at having to go run after Rhys.

By the time he hears Rhys yell, Jack's expression is already twisted up into a displeased scowl, but he slows his gait as he sees Rhys sadly laying on the ground. He switches from outright running to jogging until he slows to a stop, though ever empathetic, his first course of action is to lightly kick Rhys's arm. It's not enough to actually hurt him (hell, it might even be the metal arm), but it's just a kick for the sake of kicking Rhys. ]

Goddammit- What—

[ Jack does pause to give Rhys a better look to make sure he didn't crack his head open as he catches his breath a bit. However, this is after he's already kicked Rhys, and to be honest, Jack does just kind of have an expectation here that Rhys's head might be made of diamond with how often he hits it. So. Verdict? He's totally fine. Probably. ]

Mind telling me what that was all about, dipshit?

he's so embarrassing

[jackhole]

[ of course he's not surprised that jack followed him but he still doesn't know quite how to explain what's going on with the steaming turd that is his emotions. he's! an! emotional! guy! how many times does one need to explain that? so when jack kicks his arm, he lets out a huffy noise before pulling his hand off his face and looking up to jack from the ground.

his hands drop to the hem of the sweater, twisting around in the fabric as he frowns up at jack. ]

I don't want to be involved in this, Jack. I can't be with your group, I don't like them.

[ he's not... in a good place and this is just making him feel even worse inside. between how he's been treated on the ship since the beginning and fiona's abandonment -- he can't take hanging out with a group of people that are so firmly jack's friends, even if they'd never call themselves that. his own flip-flop of distaste for elizabeth is enough to deal with. ]

[refactor]

[ Jack looks down at Rhys with a pretty sour frown, and it seems like he's just going to let Rhys stew in... Whatever is happening right now without helping, but with an exaggerated sigh, he ends up leaning down to offer a hand to help Rhys up. ]

You're getting my sweater dirty, pumpkin. I like that sweater. You know how long I've had it?

[ It's absolutely more for the sweater's sake, but. Rhys is also wearing that sweater so it works?? ]

You don't want to hang out with them, eh, whatever. They're kind of dicks. That's why we get along. But still gotta ask here, you realize. What made you decide that? Because I'm pretty sure it's not exactly dickishness. You, well, you worked for Hyperion, kiddo, I know you can handle rude people.

[jackhole]

[ it... definitely works! rhys will take that offered hand and also, uh, not let go when he's standing up and also step in closer towards jack so there's not a lot of space between them. this is embarrassing for everyone involved.

BUT FIRST -- ]

Way too long? You know you can get like, a billion of these if you wanted them.

[ rhys, don't deflect. you're the one who had the weird sad, gay fit here so. at jack's questioning, he grits his teeth and runs a hand through his hair, looking troubled. ]

... You're just going to mock me. Aaaaand now I feel like an idiot for running out like that, ughhh. [ he presses his free hand to his forehead, letting his head fall back in his frustration. ] Can I just -- look, how about I just go back to my cabin and I'll come back when you're all done with them?

[ he drops his hand, sighing, but his other hand is still holding jack's, brushing his thumb over his knuckles. ]

They're your team, anyway. Not mine. Ahhhaha... I don't even have a team anymore so, [ he shrugs. ] So, I don't need to be here. I need to take care of some stuff anyway, go on back to them.

[ a lie, tbh. rhys has nothing else to do except angst and jack. ]

[refactor]

Yeah, but it's not that one. We- I mean, shit, we've totally already been over this.

[ Jack sighs out in exasperation, because he absolutely remembers getting somewhat embarrassed over Rhys so blatantly pointing out his sentimentality. There's also an element of that sigh that's coming from how Rhys steps closer and lingers there, but that's more from the sort of sigh that comes with fondness, however twisted that may actually be.

Which, of course, Jack expresses in the only way that he knows how. Stupidly and aggressively. Jack listens with a partial scowl on his face, but before Rhys finishes, Jack shakes his head. The hand that Rhys isn't holding comes up to Rhys's face to pat him on the cheek a few times. It's almost the sort of gesture that you'd give someone to get them to wake up from a deep sleep, but it's just Jack being weird and physical... ]

Ah, ah, ah— [ His tone is almost warning with those syllables that go with each smack, but that's gone quickly as he continues. ]

Don't even start on that, pumpkin. Look, Liz can handle that. She's smart, don't worry about it. [ rhys was absolutely not worried about this, jack ] They're my team, but you're—

[ Okay, he still doesn't know what the fuck Rhys even is to him. Part of him knows that this is selfish and that this is just some kind of way for them to both have someone, something to cling to, but... It's not quite so simple that Jack's coldly divorced from feeling anything at all. So instead of trying to parse through that, he ignores it, as he has been every time that question comes up. That hand falls to rest on Rhys's shoulder, and he defaults back to the sort of nicknames (of a sort) that Jack tends to spout off without really thinking. ]

You're my guy. C'mon.

[jackhole]

[ there's a shrug here that basically means i know. yeah, yeah. he gets it but it came out anyway out of instinct. his... instinct to give jack shit all the time, obviously. but then of course jack is patting his face and rhys winces a little, feeling absolutely ridiculous.

he's talking about his team again and it makes that feeling swell up in rhys again, the reminder that he has nothing left -- that he is nothing. all he has here is jack and jack has... plenty. it's just confirmed, seeing him interact with his clique.

jack calls him his guy but it's easy to see the doubt in rhys' expression before he sighs wearily. he lets go of jack's hand to curl both of his hands in jack's shirt and pull him forward so he can... well. so he can kiss him, swiftly on the forehead. this is when the height difference between them really shows up more, honestly. when he lets go, he takes a step back, putting appropriate distance between the again before rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. ]

I know. Still can't be there so I'm... going to take a walk. I need some time to think, alright? And I'm no help anyway, none of them like me.

[ well, liz kind of does but he doesn't like her. it's weird. ]

An hour. Do your thing and then I'll be back, alright?