Simon hadn't been sleeping right.
It wasn't because the weather was getting colder, cold enough where the healed bones ached and old scars stung, and it wasn't the longer nights and darker rooms. It wasn't that heavy weight in his chest. It was the avoidance.
He walked around base like his name sake, turning quickly if he heard a scottish accent in a room, or if he heard Garrick's tell-tale wheeze, laughing to whatever Soap had said. If he would rush up to Price's door at night, hand raised to knock, he would freeze, the dark rushing in, the cold numbing him, that stupid, stupid weight making his legs feel like jelly, he would just freeze. And the thoughts would rush in. He would curse himself, and sneak back to his room, pretending like Price hadn't heard him, hoping Price would follow him, hate himself for being that pathetic, and lay awake for another night, staring at the ceiling, and wonder what the fuck was he doing.
He wanted his leave for Christmas and he couldn't bear to ask. So when he slunk to Nik's maintenance hangar like a desperate mutt, letting Nikolai talk and talk, he accepted the random friendly invitations the pilot would always toss out.
"One day, Simon. I make you some kulebyaka at my place for holiday supper. Trust me, you'll never want to eat those ORPs again."
"So do it." He said, the first thing he said since greeting the man when he flew in. Nikolai pauses, sticks his head out from behind the helicopter, turning down his music. A shit-eating grin on his face that Simon already regretted.
"You mean it this time? No piss?"
Simon huffs a laugh, rubbing his dry eyes. "It's taking the piss, you know that. And..yeah, I mean it."
Nikolai pauses, and steps out of behind the transmission. He gets a good look at his eyes, and Simon looks away. Nikolai wipes his fingers on a rag as he walks over, clapping a large hand behind his neck, making him jerk forward at the force, eyes narrowed in alarm as Nikolai looks down at him. "Fucking hell, Nik, what?" He spits out, defensive.
His eyes feel too hot, Nik's hand a warm weight, so close, and smelling like sweat and hydraulic fluid. "Come with me. Now." Nikolai says, jostling Simon twice at each terse sentence. Simon tries pushing him off, "Fucking hell, I will, just- get the fuck, Nik. You reek." Like he wasn't about to plant his face against that chest and pass out. Nikolai grins like he can see it, hauling Simon up with his hand. "You look terrible, moy dorogoy, let me treat you." Nik says in that horrible joking tone of his, the pet name sneered with a joyful laugh.
It makes Simon's face crumple under his mask as he shoves Nik away and stalks off, out of breath and red faced. Nik falters, staring after him, confused.
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