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[ they don't talk about it, after.

wash wants to, desperately, but whenever he gets the chance the words stick in his throat and maine doesn't say much anyway so there's no bringing it up on his end. after his first few failed attempts, he stops trying and focuses back on his work and training, biding his time until he can find a way to talk to maine without floundering pathetically.

and later, when he's exhausted from the day's work, he retires to his bunk and jerks himself off to the thought of maine's mouth and hands.

two weeks pass, and wash is given an assignment and partnered with maine. covert information gathering, absolutely no one can know they're there, and a list of other bullets and points that wash honestly doesn't pay attention to. he doesn't question why they're specifically being sent on this assignment, nor does he particularly care. he just hears maine and that's enough to have him saying his yes, sirs before being sent on his way.

they're three and a half days out when they stumble across a derelict bunker and make camp for the night. wash eats, then disassembles his sidearm for cleaning, and it's not until he's completely finished, resting his gun in his lap, when he looks at maine full in the face instead of glancing at him sideways.

and finally: ] Hey.

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[ wash reads the question in the motion, and his bite turns sharp, teeth scraping skin raw. he soothes over the mark with his tongue, then says i don't know with a shrug and uses maine's weight as leverage to pull himself to his feet. because i want to, with the press of his body into maine's and his fingers at his nape, dragging his thumb up the back of his skull.

maine never has to say anything for wash to understand what he means, and wash likes that he doesn't have to speak to him in words. there's too much talking, sometimes, especially in freelancer, and the buzz of constant speech wears on wash's nerves.

this is different. and good. there's no room for bullshit in action.

the difference in size between them feels so much more apparent when maine is decked in full armor. with a soft clink, wash pushes himself against him and strains to reach as he noses up his jawline, catching his earlobe between teeth and tongue. ]

[For a fraction of a second his fingers twitch, tighten, following the prick of pain, but he steadies himself. Laughs even, not more than a quiet huff of breath and a slight vibration beneath Wash's tongue. Forget the timing, fuck trying to overcomplicate and overanalyze, no reason to ruin the moment.

It's still awkward, but only in the sense that size still is an issue. Will always be an issue, if this ends up being more than a two off. That's too far to think ahead though, Maine would rather focus on the present, on Wash's attempts to reach. No tangible reason is reason enough.

Armor makes things difficult, it isn't surprising on any level, but it does inspire frustration again, momentarily forgotten with the small, sharp burst of sensation of teeth and tongue at his ear. The distraction doesn't last long though, and it has his hand moving, fingers straying down to curl along Wash's jaw and pull him away, direct him back so that Maine can awkwardly lean down, slot their mouths together. He isn't one to be so passive, and if there's no reason to give other than want, then he does want, doesn't feel the need to give further explanation.]

[ maine's mouth is as soft as before, and wash is eager enough to return the kiss, gripping his shoulder with one hand while his other moves along his side to his back. there's a lot of leaning up and pulling down before wash can kiss him comfortably, teeth raking along his bottom lip and tongue pushing into his mouth to taste him — and god, he's sorry he wasted so much time not doing this because of his own stupid insecurities.

can't be helped now. he's learned better, at least.

the kiss starts slow but turns sharp and hard the longer wash goes without air. he pulls back when his lungs burn and tips his head to nudge their noses together, fingers clawing at maine's armor until he finds a latch and pulls. ]

Take it off. [ impatiently, even as he's working on the task himself. ]

[Authoritative. Greedy. Things Maine can distinctly appreciate, even as he responds in kind, smirk sharp when Wash pulls away. There's a momentary huff, wry amusement cut through with definitive interest, and he instead lingers for a moment. An asshole move, perhaps, but he's never claimed to be anything less.

It's only for a moment that he stays himself, though, because with all the strangeness between the both of them for the past few weeks, he's not entirely in the mood for actual delay. Not that he'd even be given the chance, what with Wash already scrabbling at his his armor. He can echo that sentiment, though, and he pushes Wash's hands away, works at the latches until there's a heavy thunk of his chest piece hitting the floor and he's moving to shuck off his gloves. Momentary distraction, really.]

[ wash doesn't mean to sound demanding, but sometimes when he's caught between nerves and aggression, he can't help but react with force. maine is receptive, either way, shucking off his chest piece and gloves, and after a few moments of standing there and watching him, wash begins to follow suit.

fair's fair, after all.

he somehow manages to piece off his armor without fumbling awkwardly, even as he rushes through the motions. once he's stripped down to his undersuit, he's stepping close and pressing into the length of maine's body, raking his nails up his back. such awful fucking timing, is what he's thinking as he cups a hand over the nape of maine's neck and drags him down to bite a mark into his throat. horrible timing. the worst.

but, god, maine looks good, and wash doesn't often get the chance to be alone with him like this, away from the prying eyes of the other freelancers. ]

[Is it risky to devote attention to this while on active duty? Probably. In his current position, Maine couldn't care less, because risk and reward have always been such fickle things, and he'd much rather live in the moment right now than try to ever think through the consequences of his actions.

And right now, it's Wash's fingers curling around his neck, Wash's mouth at his throat, and there's really nothing he can be assed to pay attention to beyond that. Keeping his composure isn't necessarily difficult, but there's still a rough exhale with the sensation, approval and bemusement all in one.

Armor is discarded haphazardly, ignored for the time being in favor of fingers curling along Wash's shoulders, searching for seams and seals in his undersuit to start working it off. Wash has pushed, it would behoove him not to push back, because things have gone this far now, the interest is there.]