#so now it's F mixing echolian and english

[serenpedac]

For that 'seeking physical affection' post, I would love to see how you think the members of Unit Bravo would do this with one another!

I’ve been thinking of this ask ever since getting it! Thank you so much, this was great fun!

A note: these are all written from the perspective of the person offering the physical affection, because I figured they would be able to more clearly observe what the other is doing. (The only exception is the one for Farah, because, well, you’ll see ^^) The downside is that it doesn’t show what the person needing the affection feels, but I hope the effect still comes across.

Also, this got kind of long, no obligation to read it all!

Words: ~1900 Rating: Teen and up Relationship: All of UB, the friendship edition Warnings: None

Ava and Nat

The hallway echoes with the sound of a training dummy being pummelled. Nat winces at a crack. The silence that follows it is broken again by the time she reaches the training room. On the other side of it is Ava, the muscles in her arms and shoulders working as she hits the dummy again and again.

Hands shoved into her pockets, Nat leans against the doorway. Ava has noticed her, of that she is certain, and will acknowledge her presence in time.

Two, three more strikes pass before Ava turns to her, panting. Her face is flushed and several strands of hair have escaped her ponytail, a detail that would make her look soft it it weren’t for her eyebrows knitted together. Undeterred by the expression, Nat crosses the training room, the floor giving ever so slightly underneath her feet.  

“I could hear you all the way from my room.”

Ava’s gaze flickers to the arm of the training dummy that is dangling at its side, and back to Nat, crossing her arms before her chest as if daring Nat to say anything about the crippled object. Nat leans back on her heels instead, raising an eyebrow at Ava’s knuckles which are chafed raw and red.  

When Ava realises what she’s looking at, her frown smoothes out. Wordlessly, she gets the plain white wrap from where it’s stored and hands the rolls over.

Just as quietly, Nat slips the loop around Ava’s thumb and begins wrapping. Around and under, between the thumb and forefinger and over the knuckles, covering skin that has already started to heal. With each wrapping, Ava’s breathing becomes steadier, her heartbeat slowing down.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Nat says as she pulls the fabric between each of Ava’s fingers.

With all her years of experience, Ava must know it to be true. They had been given insufficient information, not enough time to prepare. Despite that, the hand Nat is holding twitches.

“Still,” Ava murmurs before letting out a sigh.

With a final tug, Nat fastens the velcro at the end. She gives a light squeeze, brushing the unwrapped skin of Ava’s fingers before letting go.

Ava wiggles her fingers, but doesn’t otherwise move out of the bubble of their mingled breaths and shared body heat. “Thank you.”

There’s a softness in those jade stone eyes, a vulnerability that only a rare few ever get to see. Nat counts herself lucky to number among those few.

“Always, old friend.”

*~*~*~*~*

Mason and Felix

“Again?!”

Felix’s head shoots up from putting on his socks to find Mason holding one of his purple hoodies. His very favourite hoodie, in fact. 

“Awesome timing, I just needed that one.” He jumps up to walk over in time with the beat of the music to take it from Mason’s outstretched hand. He pulls it over his head. His grin when he emerges is answered with a scowl. “Someone got out of bed with the wrong leg.” That’s not quite it, is it? Was it foot? Nope, that doesn’t sound right either. He shakes his head.

Mason, meanwhile, is still standing there, glaring at him. Definitely not in a good mood, but there’s more to it than that. He would have left otherwise.

“Did you already have breakfast?” 

Mason shrugs. That’s a no, then. Meaning he’s waiting for the rest of them so they can have it together or he’s trying to avoid the boost fresh blood will give to his senses. Considering his mood, Felix is more than willing to bet it’s not the former. So, that leaves the only other option: a night—or nights—filled with nightmares that have left Mason on edge. 

“Want to hang out here?” Felix asks as he turns off the music on his phone.

There’s another shrug, this one meaning yes—really, Felix is becoming a master at interpreting them.

“I’ll be right back.” Felix dashes out of his bedroom and, setting a new record, is back before Mason has wandered off.

Pushing a straw through the plastic bag, he sits down at his desk, debating what to do. There are a thousand things he could talk about, but that would be the last thing Mason, leaning against the wall with his shoulders drawn up and arms crossed, needs right now. No, he needs it to be quiet, but not so boring that he will notice the way those nightmares left his body stressed and frazzled.

After drinking the last drops of blood, Felix tosses the package into the bin, and takes out some paper and his drawing supplies. Crayons, because they don’t scratch as harshly as pencils do, and because they smell waxy smooth, much like the lines they draw across the paper.

While he is gathered his stuff, Mason went over to the beanbag in the corner to slump down on it. 

As Felix continues to blend layers of colour together, the atmosphere of the room changes, he can tell. His short strokes from the start turn into longer, slower ones, the crayons gliding across the paper. When he next looks over at Mason, he is lying with his head tilted back against the wall, his eyes closed. His chest is slowly rising and falling. Not asleep, but close to it.

The sight makes Felix smile, a soft glow blooming in his chest. And if the drawing takes a little—a lot—longer than it really should, well, Mason doesn’t know anything about art anyway.

*~*~*~*~*

Nate and Adam

“Would you mind if I joined you?” Nate’s low voice pulls Adam out of his research. 

The muscles in Adam’s shoulders tighten at the note of tension in his voice. After the brightness of the screen, it takes his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness and discern the tightness drawn across Nate’s face. The attempted smile as he draws near lacks his usual warmth, but it is enough to make Adam lean back in his chair and nod at the seat beside him. “Not at all.” 

It is when he leans over to turn on the light beside the desk that he notices it: a thickness to the air, the build-up of charge in inevitable anticipation.

A storm is coming.

Nate sits down and places the book he had brought on the desk. It’s one of the older books, hints of vanilla filling the air. Adam catches golden lettering on the cover when he turns on the desk lamp, though he doesn’t manage to read the title before Nate opens it.

There have been many storms they endured together, but it hasn’t always been like this. Those early years had been worse, Nate often locking himself away, and by the time he would finally open the door, his eyes would be shot through with red, his entire body hunched in on himself. Though there is little he can do, it is better to endure nights like these together, Adam thinks, and he is grateful Nate has come to that same conclusion.

The first raindrops patter against the window, followed by a gust of wind wailing around the warehouse walls. A shudder runs through Nate, the echo reverberating through the spot where Adam’s shoulder is touching his. He shifts his seat closer, until he can easily let his knee rest against Nate’s.

Shoulder-to-shoulder and leg-to-leg, they sit together, Nate’s eyes trained on the yellowed pages of his book, while the screen before Adam is filled with starker black on white. Nate does not read, the rhythm with which he turns the pages too irregular for that. Likewise, the research Adam had been working on progresses little. Not that he is worried, but it would be remiss of him not to pay attention to how a member of his team and his oldest friend is feeling.

As the storm howls outside, Nathaniel leans more of his weight against him, or maybe he is the one who has moved closer. The warmth of skin seeps through layers of clothes, their arms now pressed together tight enough for Adam to feel the tightening of muscles when lightning strikes some spot nearby, the air crackling and sharp with ozone.

Nate lets out a short breath and Adam nudges his shoulder. It’s alright, my friend.

Mercifully, the storm passes fast.

The book is closed with a dull thud, but before Nate can rise, Adam puts his hand on his shoulder. 

“Do get some sleep.”

The corners of Nate’s mouth curve with a glimmer of a smile, and he casts a conspicuous look at the laptop screen. “I would say something about a pot and a kettle, if I though it would be of any use.”

A huff escapes him, more out of amusement and relief, than annoyance. “I am almost done. Besides, I hardly need the sleep.”

“But you need the rest.” Nate places his own hand on his, the inside of his palm slightly sticky with sweat, and says, softer, “Please, let me help tomorrow.” After a brief moment, Adam nods. As if he had been waiting for that signal, Nate rises then and offers him a smile, one that is small but true. “Good night, Adam.”

*~*~*~*~*

Farah and all of UB

“Did you all miss me?” The last part of Farah’s question is muffled against Nate’s shoulder as she hugs him tight. He smells nice, the scent of his favourite soap hanging around him, together with that of the leather of his jacket, but this close, he mostly smells of himself.

Without hesitation, he returns her hug, long arms wrapping around her. “We certainly did.”

“Knew it!” With that, she’s off to the next person: Morgan, who is standing with her arms crossed as if that would keep Farah from hugging her. Pffft, as if!

Moving slower and squeezing not quite as much, Farah puts her arms around her.

“I sure as hell did not miss getting my ears blasted out,” Morgan grumbles, letting her arms drop to her sides to relax within Farah’s hold. That counts as a win, for sure.

It leaves only one other person: Adam. He looks about as excited as Morgan at the prospect of a hug. 

“You really could do with showing some more enthusiasm.” Farah pauses to give him a once-over. “Think about morale, team spirit. Look at Nate, for example. He made me feel like you missed me and were happy that I’m back.”

Nate gives her a warm smile, proving her point, while Adam frowns, proving her point even more.

“Of course I am glad that you are back. You’re an integral part of our team.”

Farah purses her lips, considering. “You mean that without me, you would be hopelessly lost and all would fall apart?” She claps her hands together. “I’ll take that.” 

She encloses him in a hug before he can do something like asking her for a debrief of the mission or, even worse, remember the supply of blood bags she forgot to put in the fridge last time she was at the warehouse. It only takes about a second for Adam to hug her back. He’s a good hugger, if he wants to be, holding her firm but never too tight.

When he lets go, she just manages to catch the dimples in his cheeks before his Commanding Agent mask slips back into place. He really is happy that she’s back. Farah knew that, of course, but it’s still nice to have it confirmed like this.

She looks around at her three teammates—friends—and smiles wide and bright. It’s good to be back home.

*~*~*~*~*

End notes

The one for Mason and Felix is a very broad interpretation of the prompt. It’s not that I think M would never seek out physical affection, but.. Okay, this is where my thoughts get a bit incoherent, but I was thinking about how M turns to sex (and cigarettes) as a way of overstimulating their senses so that the smaller things are drowned out. This is however not them wanting affection. It made me wonder: is there a different, more subtle way they would go for when they are searching for this?

With how strong their senses are, I figured that merely being close to someone, for example being in the same room, would already have a physical affect on them. So, that’s what I was going for here.

Also, I don't think they would be aware they're looking for affection, so it's a good thing F is this sensitive to other people's emotions!