♡: Accidentally falling asleep together
@rhysinpieces▐ █ NONSEXUAL ACTS OF INTIMACY // ACCEPTING
♡ ACCIDENTALLY FALLING ASLEEP TOGETHER
It’s late and Scooter’s garage doesn’t even hum with Janey’s welding tools. Everyone is either asleep or sulking in the eerie silence so unbecoming of Hollow Point’s rustic bustle. Rhys is one of the latter, sitting in an unoccupied corner of the garage. The group’s still on edge with frayed nerves and over-the-shoulder stares these days. It’ll only get worse once they make it to Helios to extract their prize. Vallory’s prize.
Jack’s been strangely quiet through most of this. Probably because so many unwanted eyes have been following their every move to make sure no one bolts. He himself isn’t too worried, since the queenpin’s goals happen to align so well with his own, but his host’s hundreds of concerns make it difficult to settle. It’s a goddamn barrage of “what ifs” and “I think i’m gonna be sicks” the closer they get to launch. So when it’s just Rhys in that lonely corner on the floor, skimming through ECHOnet news sites to keep his thoughts occupied, Jack finally sees an opportunity to chat.
“‘Sup, cupcake. You gonna sleep anytime soon or just keep reading about some stupid hippie peace prize winner or whatever? Those things are rigged, by the way.” He flickers into view to stand in front of him with arms crossed. As usual, Rhys jolts in surprise and gives him a scowl. From this angle, Jack can definitely see the dark circles under mis-matched eyes.
“W-Would you not?” hisses the salary man. “I’ve got way too much going on in my head right now to even think about dealing with more.”“Yeah, noticed that. It’s driving me frickin’ crazy.”“Oh, it’s driving you crazy? Well, I–” Rhys’ snapped reply fades on his breath as easily as it had sparked into life and he sighs, shoulders slumping, as he tries again. “Er, sorry. Sorry, it’s just… a lot. Right now.”
Jack’s head cocks when he doesn’t expect the guy to deflate so promptly. Then again, he can see the numbers on his vitals and man is he tired. The exhaustion’s getting to him, slowing even his wit, which isn’t great when they’ll be scavenging around Old Haven soon with two guns poised on Rhys’ back. And then there’s the entirety of the plan once they get to Helios – to the beacon and to Jack’s only sliver of a chance outside this long, lanky body. Rhys needs to be on top of his game and anxiety-induced insomnia is not going to help with that.
In a shimmer of blue light, Jack’s hologram vanishes and re-appears beside Rhys like he’s leaning back against the wall along with him. It doesn’t startle him this time, either. There’s even a noticeable sense of relief Jack can sense in the data of his breathing. If sitting close to him helps, then whatever. They can play pretend like they so often have whenever Jack sits or lounges in a way so close to imitating real life. No clipping, no floating, no blinking around the room so fast it plunges Rhys into a wave of nausea. He’s just… sitting there. Like it really is just the two of them in this dingy garage that smells like gasoline and taco meat.
“Listen, pal, and– and I don’t say this to just anyone – especially you – but, uh… You got this.”“Huh?”
Rhys’ voice sounds a little far-off; weighed down by the exhaustion taking its toll.
“What I’m saying is you don’t gotta worry so much. Like yeah, the rocket could explode or the guards’ll shoot ya dead no questions asked as soon as you set foot on Helios. Hell, even nabbing Wallethead’s face might getcha killed!”“Okay, not really helping–”“My point is, Rhys, that sure, of course those things could happen. But they won’t because you got me, remember? Handsome frickin’ Jack?”
This is met with silence, but it’s a different silence. A warmer one without so much of the buzzing vibes of stress radiating off the guy like something corrosive. Jack even thinks he sees his lips twitch at the corner with the start of a drowsy smile. His own presence lags a little heavier for some reason; like the slowing activity in Rhys’ brain is starting to persuade his own stressed program into agreement with it.
“I’m gonna get you up to Helios. Gonna get us up there. Even if it all goes to hell.”He has to, after all. Whatever it takes, he has to get Rhys up to his H-shaped kindgom floating aimless in the stars. Has to drag himself back into something that can return the weight of scepter and crown to the head and hand that misses it so.
“O-oh,” is all Rhys mumbles out. Followed sluggishly by, “I guess you’re right.”“I’m always right,” Jack reminds him. That coaxes out a soft chuckle.
Rhys tilts his face just enough so he can give him a proper glance in spite of very sore eyes. He’s definitely smiling by now; something slight and sleepy and softer than usual. And though Jack has often teased him for staring too much, he catches himself smiling back. The kid’s kinda cute when he’s half asleep and putting all his faith in the right place.
Seems like all it took were the right words because as soon as those eyes fall closed and his head lolls back against the wall, Rhys is out like a light. His slim body even turns slightly, like he’s trying to curl up closer to the space where Jack’s image still sits. The hologram’s eyes roll, but with a certain fondness. At least he too can finally find some peace in the skull that’s been nothing but a storm of static noise since everything kicked off. Originally, he’d planned to use the time to sort further through more memory files for anything that might come in handy, but that slowing sensation from earlier is all the heavier at this point. He can feel his data stilling its shifting and mining, dragged to a stop by this weird warmth bleeding through Rhys’ rested consciousness.
It’s… nice, actually. Feels good and comfortable and so easy to lean into. His hologram blinks gone when he can’t find it in himself to project the image further and he nestles instead in a cozy nook in the cybernetics that offer the only sanctuary he has. He doesn’t know where this comes from, doesn’t know why it feels so relaxing to fall into the slow sway of Rhys’ breathing and heart-rate. For a moment, it even feels like he’s the one sleeping. Like he’s the one fit inside this flesh, these legs, these arms, and he’ll wake up in his office like everything was all one very long bad dream. Like he might be alive after all.
It’s enough to settle the AI into standby, lain comfortably intertwined with his host and smiling with the mouth that isn’t his.
