I started out with amuse me and went somewhere else entirely. Forgive me? This is set in the same 'verse as the Metzgers. "" “It’s not the end of the world,” Auctus said. He was trying really hard not to sound bitter as Castus lamented the latest pretty face to turn him down. “There are other fish in the sea.” “Funny,” Castus said. “You always make the nautical jokes around me.” “You are a sailor,” Auctus said. He tried to focus on the paper in front of him, and not on the downturn of Castus’ full lips. “Besides, did you really expect some random guy to just wait around for you for five years? He laughed in your face when you asked him out the first time.” “Not any guy,” Castus said. “It was Corpsman Karimi, and he married a fucking Metzger. I had to do a joint-mission with one of those fuckers, the Recon one. How they let him into the Corps I’ll never know.” “Someone had to get their quota up,” Auctus muttered. He felt a headache coming on; he was not up for another round of Castus’ Ex-Files. “Look, why don’t you just shake it off. You’re back in town for at least a half-year. Go out, find a pretty face, and do your thing. Just try to remember you stealth training when you come home, and don’t wake the dogs.” “Nah,” Castus shook his head. “I’d rather stay in and annoy you. I just got back from hell. I need to get you back into your bad habits. None of this good, clean-living shit you’ve been pulling off since I’ve been gone. You think you know a guy, and then you come home to find him eating a veggie burger.” “I would like to live to see seventy,” Auctus said. He pushed away from his desk and straightened out his back. “Someone has to take care of us in our old age, and it sure as hell won’t be you.” “I’m honored you think I’ll live to be old,” Castus said. He bumped Auctus’ shoulder as they padded down the stairs to the kitchen. “You know, months stuck on a floating city in the middle of the ocean gives you time to think.” “I never would’ve guessed, Gilligan,” Auctus said. He tried to make for the fridge, but Castus hip-checked him away. “Sit the fuck down, we’re having Chinese. Your poor, deprived fat glands will thank me.” He pinched Auctus’ side. “You’ve fucking wasted away, Auc.” “It’s called yoga, you jackass,” Auctus said. It had been a long ass time since he had some Chinese food though. “Get me—” “—the friggin Spider Roll, I know. You’re so fucked up. Too good for a typical meal.” He placed their order, walking off into the living room, and making disgusted sounds at the change in the décor, before he finally returned. “Thirty minutes, and as I was saying, you get time to think while on the carrier.” “And what secrets of the universe were revealed to you?” Auctus asked. Castus grinned and shook his finger. “Well, that would be telling.” Auctus rolled his eyes. “At least you’re no longer acting like a heartbroken teenage boy.” Castus shrugged. “Eh, I had to do something typical, or you’d think I was replaced with a pod person again.” “You willingly cleaned the gutters,” Auctus said. “Your own mother would think you were a pod person.” Castus’ face suddenly went serious. “Thanks for watching out for her while I was gone.” Auctus didn’t want to read more into that look so he shrugged it off. “No big deal.” “Yeah, it is,” Castus said. “See, most people just think you’re an asshole.” “Fuck you, so are you.” “I am,” Castus agreed. “To the people that don’t know us, we definitely are, but you? You fucking watched my back and took care of my family, and my shit, all without me having to ask. You did it because you thought I wouldn’t notice. You did it because it’s your way of working into a person’s life, making yourself needed, so hopefully this time they’ll let you stay around.” Auctus shifted on his seat, frankly uncomfortable. “What, did you take a psychology course out there?” “I had a lot of talks with the shrink,” Castus admitted. “She thinks I’d be better at counseling. We’re not talking about me though.” “Aren’t we?” Auctus asked. “Aren’t we always?” “I asked you out after you finally ended it with Barca,” Castus said. “Do you remember what you said then?” Auctus did; he’d thought about it often before Castus shipped out, and even more when he’d finally left. He’d lived with the what-ifs and regrets and what-could-bes for so long, he was almost terrified of the right-before-hims. “I said we’d be better friends than lovers.” “Do you still think that?” Castus asked. No. “I’m not sure,” he said. Castus let his fingers rest on top of Auctus’ own and smiled. “Liar, liar.”