who_is_she | (no subject)

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The job had started as a salvage tip about an old mansion someone had built on a moon who knows how long ago. At first it seemed promising--the multiple room-sized safes dotted over the ruins of a gigantic, sprawling mansion kind of promising--but then the safes were all locked and there was no way around the locks except to find the key. The only clue they uncovered after several days of searching was the remnants of the AI that had ran the house. The AI was not in working order but Ajax was able to dig up some of its memory banks, and with a little heavy lifting they brought the banks onto the ship. The next hurtle came when they realized they couldn't simply plug the memories into the ship; they were far too complicated-- closer to the inner workings of the organic brain than their computers. That's when Tony had an idea.

"So, in theory, I plug these memories into your synthetics, then with this," Tony gestures to the goofy-looking headset he's wearing, the one that has taken nearly an hour to get on, "I'll be able to hear them through your... processors, I guess? That sounded less than competent. I'll just be able to hear them." Tony sighs, raising his hand to brush his fingers through his hair but stopping short, as he'd forgotten about the headset.

"I guess this is kind of... experimental. You just... you'll let me know if you feel weird at any point, okay?" Tony's expression creases with worry as he leans down to look Roddie in the eye.

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"Yeah, got it," Roddie says, trying to mask his discomfort as best as he can. In truth, he still wasn't entirely sure what they were doing, and wasn't sure how much he was going to like it. All the wires going into his mechanical parts reminded him a little too much of things he tried his best to forget about, and from what he understood about what they were going to be doing he wasn't thrilled at the prospect of having his thoughts on display. He tries unsuccessfully to swallow down the tightness in his chest.

"Okay," he says, taking a deep breath and looks around trying to focus on something relaxing. After his eyes dart around the room for a moments, he finds them settling on Tony's face, and the gentle expression with which he was looking at him. This, he finds, is about the most soothing thing he can think of given the circumstances - knowing he wasn't back in the labs again, and that his sweet boyfriend is the one overseeing this instead of those masked doctors, is unbelievable grounding for him - and he focuses his full attention on that.

Tony nods at Roddie's assurances, still a little worried by the distant look on his face, but after a moment Roddie's expression evens out and Tony relaxes.

"Okay. I'm starting it up," he says, flipping a few switches so a few lights start to flicker both on Roddie's synthetics and on his headset. At first, all Tony hears is a low humming, but then garbled, whispering words start filtering in.

"Is that okay? How do you feel?" he asks, leaning over and touching Roddie's hand.

"Uhh...weird," he laughs nervously, as his head starts to feel somewhat fuzzy and a warmth starts spreading from the metal half of his body. He keeps his focus on Tony and the kindness in the way he was looking at him in order to keep his panic at bay, turning his palm upwards to hold his hand in return.

"Feels like my brain is buzzing," he mumbles, leaning back in the chair and swallowing, "Everything's kind of swirling together. What am I supposed to be doing again? Thinking about a key?"

Not panicking, not panicking, Tony hears Roddie's voice through the headset, his eyes widening, Look at Tony. He's so sweet and caring. That's better. His hand is soft.

Tony flushes immediately, looking down at where Roddie's wrapping his hand around Tony's. He hadn't expected Roddie to think about him like that-- like he was a calming, helpful influence just being here. He's so distracted by the sudden insight into Roddie's thoughts that he almost doesn't catch his actual words.

"Um, actually, I haven't plugged in the memories yet. I wanted to make sure everything was working okay first. Which, uh, I just heard you think about how soft my hand is so I guess it's working?" He said, a little embarrassed but smiling down at Roddie.

"Oh...geeze," Roddie laughs, a little high pitched. He hadn't fully considered what they were doing until this moment; he'd considered the idea that he might think of something compromising, but now the reality of this situation was fully sinking in.

He swallows and tries as hard as he can to put his mind on something less sappy and embarrassing, which, of course, only makes things worse. The fond thoughts are flooding his mind now, and he's finding himself thinking about how cute it is when his cheeks turn red like that even as he tries his hardest not to dwell on it.

"I-I mean...yeah, that went through my head, so yeah, I'd say it's working," he says, clearing his throat, "Uhh...you heard all that too, I guess, then."

Tony hears Roddie think about how cute he is, along with some other disjointed thoughts that he can't help but assume are also nice things about him. His cheeks burn even harder and he raises his hand that isn't touching Roddie's to cover his eyes.

"Yes, I heard that," he says, high pitched and strangled, then clears his throat and attempts to brush off his embarrassment and tender feelings.

"All right, well, it's working, so we can just... Continue. Just..." Tony's expression twists a little, "Think about whatever you usually think about. Pretend I'm not here if you have to." He shrugs a little, figuring it's only his presence and this situation that's making those kind of thoughts rush through Roddie's head.

"I'll uh...yeah, sure thing," he says, clearing his throat and closing his eyes, "Think about what I...normally...think about."

Which is Tony, he thinks, before he can suppress himself, Like, almost all the time, oh, God, he's hearing all of this you idiot. Roddie squeezes his eyes shut tighter, and, without really meaning to, finds himself holding his breath with the effort of trying to clear his mind.

"Ahaha, I'm...geeze, I'm trying" he mumbles, cracking his eyes open, "Did you plug the memories in yet? I'm...I'm not sure --"

Don't go off thinking about how happy you are to see him wearing clothes that arent that stupid uniform, he thinks, Please, don't start thinking about how happy he looks lately and how much that means to you. My Christ, you are really blowing it, Roddie.

Tony has the plug in his hands when he hears Roddie think about thinking about him all the time, and he freezes, his eyes wide.

"I, I've..." Tony starts to reply but trails off when Roddie thinks about his clothes, his mouth going dry instead. He looks down at what he's wearing; jeans and a t-shirt, and he thinks the shirt is Roddie's butt it's hard to tell because their clothes are so mixed up at this point. He hadn't realized how obvious it was that he was happier, too, with Roddie and with the first family he'd known to make him feel cared about every day.

He feels a little choked up, actually, and has to take a deep breath before he can say anything.

"It's okay," he says quietly, turning back to Roddie, his expression shy, "I am happier. I didn't realize you... thought about me that much. Like, almost as much as I think about you," he says, laughing, but it's a little strangled and awkward.

"Um, but," he says, clearing his throat, "We can stop doing this if you're uncomfortable."

Roddie shakes his head.

"No, no, I'm already wired to this thing," he says, laughing a little, "Let's just get the thing done and...yeah." He realizes it's useless to try not to betray the way Tony's words had just turned him to mush, so he just lets himself feel it, openly but not unabashedly.

Almost, though? he thinks, He's got no idea. There's no way we aren't at least even. At least. Give me some credit, Tony.

Tony laughs, a little breathlessly, shaking his head.

"All right, maybe you've got a point," he says, focusing back on the task at hand even though he's smiling brightly now.

"Anyway, seriously, I'm gonna hook you up to the memory banks," he says, connecting another plug, "So try to keep the flirting to a minimum." He smiles at Roddie, leaning over him again to peer into his face, still worried about Roddie getting overwhelmed or hurting.

"You know, the more you say that," Roddie laughs, leaning back and looking up at him somewhat dazedly, "The harder it is not to think about this stuff. But I'll keep trying."

He reaches up, absentmindedly, to brush Tony's slightly unkempt hair away from his face, failing Tony's request spectacularly.

Did he know this was going to inevitably be super weirdly intimate when he hooked me up to this thing?, he wonders, Jesus, Tony, I mean, you had to have known.

"I didn't know!" Tony objects immediately, still flushed and warm from Roddie touching his face, "I mean, I didn't think I would... hear everything you're thinking." He glances off to the side, his expression a little shifty, "All right, maybe I thought it could happen but I didn't think it would work like that! I mean, theoretically, it's supposed to just--"

Before he can even start to explain he hears Roddie tune him out and start thinking over his explanation.

He's so smart, Roddie thinks, and Tony falls silent, his mouth hanging open, What a nerd. He's so cute when he goes all nerd explosion. Is it weird that I think that's kind of hot? Oh, shit, he's not talking anymore.

"Roddie," Tony chides gently, laughing as he shakes his head, "I don't know if I should be flattered or offended." It's pretty obvious by his smile that he's picked flattered, however.

Roddie laughs a little, reaching up to scratch the back of his head and forgetting all the wires that were hooked up to the left side of his body.

"You uh, you look pretty flattered to me," he says, clearing his throat, "I mean, if I had to guess, I'd say you're looking pretty flattered right now. But hey hey, you're the one who said no more flirting, right? So let's just...get this over with so I can get out of this fucking thing. I can't...urgh." His brow furrows, and he closes one eye.

"I can't make sense of any of this shit you're putting in me, I'm just having a bunch of weird deja vu type flashback feelings, is there something I'm supposed to be doing?"

Please help me do this so we can make out, I wanna make out with him so bad, he thinks.

"Roddie," Tony laughs, his eyebrows going up at Roddie's thoughts, "Hmm," he says, leaning back to take a good look at a nearby monitor, "I'm not sure. Maybe the equipment isn't translating it in a way you can understand. Maybe if I just..." Tony trails off, reaching up and over to fiddle with a few plugs and dials on the equipment.

His arms are so nice, Roddie thinks somewhat dreamily, and Tony's arms shoot back to his sides.

"My arms?" Tony repeats, gaping at Roddie, then he looks down at his own arms, which are a bit gangly if anything. They're certainly not nice or muscular, "Why my arms? Did you, like, hit your head again or something?"

"No I didn't hit my head!" Roddie protests indignantly, mentally swearing at himself as he laughs, "You've got nice arms."

I've always liked his arms, he thinks, There's nothing weird about that. They're all veiny and they look good. What's not to like about his arms?

"I can usually think these things in the privacy of my own head without getting made fun of, you know, Jesus," he mutters, rubbing his arm somewhat bashfully and hoping Tony wouldn'f comment on the thought that had just gone through his head, "And, by the way, now I'm getting nothing, no flashbacks or anything, so...thanks a lot. Great work on the machine thing. This is your fault."

"I wasn't making fun of you!" Tony protests, then glances off to the side, "Well, not on purpose, anyways. I thought you were messing with me or something!" Tony doesn't have a comment on Roddie's follow-up thought, except he does get caught on Roddie's use of the word always. That meant it hadn't been a spur-of-the-moment thing, possibly caused by a head injury. It was a previously formed opinion that Roddie thought about regularly. This was hurtling towards way-more-than-Tony-could-deal-with territory.

"How is this my fault!" He says, smiling, "I didn't know this would happen! And, apparently, I'm not the insatiable one who constantly thinks about my sexy arms." Tony laughs a little, scratching the back of his neck, still flushed crimson.

As soon as the word "insatiable" leaves his mouth, Roddie's head is filled with images he'd managed to keep at bay thus far. Thoughts come flooding in of Tony walking over to where he was seated in his chair and kissing him, of Tony unfastening the clasp of his pants and pushing his hand inside his boxers, and even as Roddie's brain scrambles around for something else to think about he knows it's much too late.

"Damn it," he laughs, clearing his throat, "Why'd you have to go and be all like...lewd about it, huh?"

Insatiable. I wish he would kiss me. I wish we could make love right here, Roddie thinks and Tony freezes. He'd noticed before that Roddie seemed to get in an intimate mood at odd times, seemingly related to nothing, and it was jarring to realize that perhaps it had just been him and the things that he did all along.

"Oh my God, Roddie," Tony says, reaching up to cover his face, feeling his blush kick up a notch and make his whole head feel hot, "That's what you... Did you really just call it making love?!" Tony's voice reaches the high pitched squeak that means he's close to overwhelmed. He can't help the intense embarrassment that comes along with that phrase and all of these unsettling realizations that maybe Roddie hadn't been joking all those times he said Tony was attractive or sexy.

Upon seeing the look on Tony's face, Roddie groans loudly in embarassment into his hands, which were now both pressed firmly over his face.

"What!" he protests indignantly, "I mean, yeah, I did, I always -- I mean, is that not...what we're doing?"

He sounds a little more hurt than he means to on that last sentence, and he tries to cover it up by repeating himself.

"I mean. Is it?"

Tony's glad he's not the one hooked up to the mind reading machine because the string of curses he thinks when he peeks through his fingers and sees the hurt in Roddie's expression is graphic and vehement.

"Oh, shit, I mean..." Tony grimaces, sighing and building up his courage to say what he's about to say, "Yes, it is... An accurate... description of the... things we do together. It's just, when you say it like that it's just..." Tony's mouth hangs open for a long moment, unable to accurately describe the overwhelming embarrassment and feelings at calling it making love.

"It just... it makes me feel a lot of things. When you say it like that," he finishes quietly, his face in his hands again.

Roddie's face feels as though it's burning hot enough to melt the metal mask plating on his jaw.

"Oh," he says, swallowing dryly, "Is, uh...I hope 'embarrassed to know me' isn't one of the things it makes you feel."

He tries to laugh at his own joke, but it comes out as kind of a squeak.

God, stop thinking about it, he urges himself in his head, You're supposed to be working, for fuck's sake, he's probably regretting even trying to do this with you.

Tony groans as Roddie's thoughts take a turn for the self-hating and guilty, something that was still a little surprising to Tony even though he knew that Roddie struggled with seeing himself as a good person.

"No, no," Tony says, coming over to Roddie's side to squeeze his shoulder, "I'm not embarrassed to know you. And I'm not regretting anything." Through the lull in their conversation Tony can hear that Roddie's mind is very much still on physical things, as instead of real words and thoughts he just hears an undercurrent of moaning and squelching noises.

"I love you," he breathes out finally, leaning over to kiss Roddie, intending for it to just be a brief kiss. He thinks he had some plan of a kiss sealing off this situation once and for all, a plan that he quickly realizes was badly thought out because the moment Roddie realizes what he's doing the thoughts about escalating things past kissing just get louder.

"I love you too," Roddie mumbles into Tony's mouth, half laughing, "What -- what are you doing kissing me though, not exactly -- helping."

His hand, which had reflexively come up to rest on Tony's back when he'd leaned in to kiss him, wanders a little lower before he can catch himself, and he realizes just in time to stop it above the waist of Tony's pants.

"I don't know!" Tony says, pulling back and laughing, burying his face in Roddie's shoulder, "I thought it would help, I guess? I didn't think it through." Tony laughs again, helplessly, one knee up on the bed Roddie's resting on and his hands on either side of Roddie's waist.

"You're just... You're so cute and so sweet and you're way too good for me and I can't believe you like me so much and you can't stop thinking about kissing me and that kind of makes me not be able to think about anything else, either." Tony talks very quickly, still hiding his face in Roddie's shoulder and blushing furiously.

"We're supposed to be working on opening the safe," Roddie protests weakly, guffawing stupidly as Tony's breath tickles his neck, "Let's just get it...done, and then we can -- you know."

Make love, he thinks again, before slapping himself on the knee, as if to scold himself.

"Just...come on," he says, pressing what he intends as a quick peck to the part of Tony's neck that was closest to him, but soon follows it with several more, lingering kisses to the same spot.

Tony giggles at Roddie thinking 'making love' again, then he sighs and tilts his head to the side to give Roddie more access to his neck.

"Yeah, absolutely, we have to work," Tony agrees, sounding less than convincing, "Just let me..." He trails off, peppering kisses up the side of Roddie's throat, making his way back to his mouth to kiss him again. He doesn't even try to make this one light or quick, too distracted by Roddie's hands and the sweet sound of his voice in his head.

"Mmf," Roddie huffs into the kiss, as his mind, somewhat more eloquently, thinks, Thank the Lord. He returns the kiss with just as much enthusiasm. One of his hands quickly slides down into the waistband of Tony's boxers, while the the other (which he has almost forgotten is wired to the machine beside him) snakes up the back of Tony's shirt.

He smells nice, he thinks distractedly, as he breaks away from the kiss to mouth at Tony's neck and jaw again, He's been using that new shampoo he got.

Tony makes a soft noise into the kiss at Roddie's hands on his skin, shifting closer and balancing his weight on either side of Roddie's head. He laughs breathlessly at Roddie's thoughts, closing his eyes and tilting his head to the side.

"I'm gonna, like, lose all my precious self loathing at this rate," Tony says around a gasp, still laughing, "If we're gonna totally give up on working maybe we should, uh, disconnect the machine?" He says, looking doubtfully at all the tangled wires connecting Roddie to the equipment.

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