@fireteam-kaminari
The message that pops up in Atlas’ inbox at the crack of dawn is short and to the point. A time and location - early evening, and a relatively high end restaurant near the center of the City. The sender’s username is not one registered in his friends list, but it’s not difficult to guess who ‘cheonhyeol@citynet’ is.
fireteam-fireteam
Cheonhyeol curses Bongji under his breath, hoping it can feel his intentions through their “bond”. (Or whatever it is everyone else seems to claim a Guardian and their Ghost is supposed to have. Sounds fake.)
So, either he walks all the way to the other side of the City - which, even with his stamina and high quality prosthetics, is exhausting - or he asks Atlas to give him a ride, which will likely involve him having to press himself against the Titan and hang on for dear life as they race down the road. Neither options are great, but at least the latter will be painful for a shorter period of time.
He gives Atlas an uncomfortable look, shuffling his feet like he’s a teenager scared to admit to his parents that he just accidently dropped a family heirloom on the dog’s head.
Wait no, that was more appropriate for when they were still in the restaurant.
Right now, he feels more like a teenager trying to swallow his pride so he can ask his mother to drive him to the theaters, knowing fully that she will embarrass the hell out of him in front of his friends with her over-affectionate teasing.
“Come on, man. Don’t make me say it.”
-
“Don’t make you say what?”
Atlas looked as smug as a faceless exo could look, the emotion radiating off his body language, he rarely ever got an edge over the other Guardian, Cheonhyeol was always 3 steps ahead of him in anything and although a very rare and entertaining scene he still feels bad for him so he quickly drops the tease.
“Alright alright, just climb on, behind me preferably, I won’t be able to see anything past your tall frame if you sit in front of me.”
Turning to face him he pats the space behind him, thankfully Cheonhyeol was such a beanpole, he should be able to fit relatively comfortably in one seat, much like Shiloh did during their first patrol together.
“Let’s go!”
Cheonhyeol groans, perhaps a bit more exaggerated than need be, as he slides on behind Atlas, locking his long limbs onto the Titan. It's uncomfortable being pressed so close to an exo with hard parts digging into the soft parts of his own body - maybe this is why Shiloh wears enough layers to make them feel like a piece of furniture with child safe paddings on every edge.
"Yes, please, let's go."
The previously chilly wind is almost cutting as they race through the streets, thankfully mostly free of other vehicles. He presses his face against Atlas' shoulder blades, hoping the living wind shield in front of him will keep his nose and ears from freezing.
"I'm amazed helmets aren't mandatory."
He's trying not to yell, but it's not easy to be heard over both the roar of the engine and the whipping winds around them.
"You'd think City folk would get tired of having to scrape Guardian brain matter off of asphalt every other week when they forget brakes exist."









