tsunderehansen

[tsunderehansen]

“Like you’ve ever had a problem with me stretching out your things.” Chuck drops the Jaeger tech magazine onto his lap, tilting his head while he looks at Riloh.  “Besides, it’s a combination of your favorite things; me, and that piece of junk Danger.” 

+tsunderehansen

–You little shit!!

It’s all Riloh can do to not leap across the room and rip the hoodie off Chuck’s back (and no, amazingly enough the motivation isn’t sex this time).

“That shit’s limited edition.  It’s–you’re going to stretch it out.”  He’s trying to sound nonchalant, not make this about him being a fanboy.  He’s not ready for Hansen to harass him about that particular topic yet.

[tsunderehansen]

“Yeah? So what if it is?” Chuck tugs on the strings, waiting for the other man’s reaction. 

“It fits me better, don’t you think?” 

+tsunderehansen

“…Is that my Gipsy Danger commemorative hoodie?”  It’s not meant to sound as psychotically possessive as it comes out – but it comes out all the same.

[tsunderehansen]

Chuck's out in the backyard with Max, two of them lounging about in the hammock he and Herc tied up in the backyard only hours before. His Ray Bans sit comfortably across the bridge of his nose, hard iced tea sitting on the little wicker table next to it. 

It's not paradise, but he's okay with that. 

Scratching at Max's stomach, his little body settles again and more snores escape his smushed nose. It brings a smile to his face, and he gives the dog a good pat before stretching out himself, letting the sun rays wash over him in warmth. Chuck dozes in and out of a nap for fifteen minutes, pushing himself with his foot to rock. 

Until the cordless house phone rings. Max startles awake with a confused grunt, looking every which way for the offending sound. Chuck scrambles to answer it, shifting around in the netting as it slips underneath him from its resting place against his hip. He curses as he nearly dumps both of them out before pressing the answer button. 

"Hello?" He grouses, of course he's a little irritated, and since he can't check caller I.D. he can only hope it's not some stooge from the press calling for an interview, or paparazzi. 

But there's nothing. Just quiet, soft breathing on the other end. It's a man, or so he thinks, it just sounds deep. When the caller still doesn't say anything, he tries again. While Chuck waits, he grabs his now condensating iced tea, brings it to his lips to take a long drink. 

And something inside him freezes when the caller finally responds, his own lungs seem to tighten, and the grip he has on the iced tea goes slack. It falls to the ground with a soft thud, spilling out everywhere in the grass.

He can't breathe, much less think, because after all this time, Riloh Harmon gets through. He's got enough balls to finally pick up a phone and call him back.

(Silently, he thanks Wren, because he knows the other twin probably relayed his calls to the stubborn asshole). 

"About time you called. What'd you do, think I was dead or something?" Chuck tries - and fails - to joke. He's not even going to admit that his throat is tight, because he does not cry over shit like this. The urge to board a plane to Vancouver right now is overwhelmingly strong and fuck, what's the matter with him? 

salt & sand // closed RP + rangerharmonppdc

It’s hard to believe the breach is closed, half a year later. 

It’s even harder to wrap his mind around the fact that he won’t be piloting Striker anymore. 

Read More

[tsunderehansen]

Chuck thinks before he acts (for once) about the consequences of what he's about to do-- 

Fuck it. He gives the bulge a soft pat, slipping out of Riloh's space and past him while he walks by. 

"-- keep telling yourself that it's not for me." 

"…"

"Don’t flatter yourself.  That’s totally not for you.  I was just-" Thinking about your stupid sassing mouth.  FUCK. 

[tsunderehansen]

"I think the tent in your pants says otherwise." 

Not that he's looking or anything.

"Fuck no.  I couldn’t be further from being turned on."

But if we’re going to talk about your tongue - JESUS FUCK, FOCUS HARMON, FOCUS.  You’re pissed off, remember? 

Wait…  —Can’t I be pissed off and turned on at the same time?  I’m sure that’s how I got into this in the first place.  Whatever “this” is.

[tsunderehansen]

[text: Riloh]: Talented at everything but sucking dick. 

[text: Riloh]: Got you there, didn't I? Guess it wouldn't matter if I saw his face or not, probably going to be looking at the back of his head. 

[text: Riloh]: If you... catch my drift. 

[text: hansen]: hey jerk [text: hansen]: u surf? [text: hansen]: i mean, they probably deport aussies who can't surf right?

[text: Riloh]: Reckon we’d have a lot of people leaving the country if we deported for that reason.

[text: Riloh]: But to answer your question, no. Haven’t in a while. Is this an invitation to go sometime? 

[tsunderehansen]

"What's the matter? Someone's pants getting tight at the sound of pet names rolling off my tongue?"  

"Whatever you say, love." 

[tsunderehansen]

[text: Riloh]: Familiar with the phrase 'practice makes perfect?' Asshole. 

[text: Riloh]: Guess I am lucky. Lucky that I've got free will to go find the nearest twink with your face and build. 

[text: hansen]: hey jerk [text: hansen]: u surf? [text: hansen]: i mean, they probably deport aussies who can't surf right?

[text: Riloh]: Reckon we’d have a lot of people leaving the country if we deported for that reason.

[text: Riloh]: But to answer your question, no. Haven’t in a while. Is this an invitation to go sometime? 

[tsunderehansen]

"Whatever you say, love." 

Aw fuck me, I said that part out loud didn’t I?

"Nothing.  You’re hearing shit.  All that time in Striker must’ve messed with your eardrums."

Please kill me.

[tsunderehansen]

[text: Riloh]:  ... I practically grew up on a surf board while you were only able to surf in frozen wonderland certain times of the year, but somehow I'm inadequate? 

[text: Riloh]: You're lucky you've got a pretty face. 

[text: hansen]: hey jerk [text: hansen]: u surf? [text: hansen]: i mean, they probably deport aussies who can't surf right?

[text: Riloh]: Reckon we’d have a lot of people leaving the country if we deported for that reason.

[text: Riloh]: But to answer your question, no. Haven’t in a while. Is this an invitation to go sometime? 

[tsunderehansen]

"-- what was that about my biceps, Ri?" 

[tsunderehansen]

salt & sand // closed RP + rangerharmonppdc

It's hard to believe the breach is closed, half a year later. 

It's even harder to wrap his mind around the fact that he won't be piloting Striker anymore. 

Chuck attempts to tell himself it's for the better, that this way he can repair whatever is left of the relationship between him and his old man, enjoy life.

But he finds it a lot more easier said than done.

He misses the sound of Striker's metal frame creaking, groaning as it moves. Having control over his life isn't the same as the fluidity of piloting a jaeger, having objectives. At night, he ghost drifts with his dad across the expanse of their house, plethora of memories and feelings pushed together-- 

[mom, Angela, Melbourne, Chuck-- I wish I would've died instead, Angela how do I help him? -- dad please be proud-- I quite like my life -- Stacker that's my son you've got there -- Slattern, Raiju, if you have the shot you take it, everything and then -- ]

They don't talk about it in the morning, ever. Chuck's too scared to bring it up, and it seems mutual on Herc's end. There really is nothing to talk about, but the thing they are working on (that's not the ghost drifting), is what they have now. It's easier and almost feels like rebuilding.

They even venture out together for groceries every so often, and while Herc bitches at him for buying whole milk, tim-tams, pavlova (you're gonna ruin your diet), he never makes Chuck put it back. 

Sure, he could easily move out, but he doesn't. And there's also work that needs to be done on the house Herc purchased, a little craftsman bungalow outside of Sydney. He's not going to let his dad do all of it, not when Chuck nows that arthritis runs in their genes (at least that's what he says to justify helping out).

Outside of his life here, he's kept in contact with Raleigh, Mako; it's strange to think of them as friends; he's never had a real one, but here they are. Of course, the Gipsy pilots have been touring a good year or so, doing conferences and Q & As with the press, public, but the occasional video he gets in his inbox or the Skype calls make his life less disconnected. [It might even make him smile, he'd never admit]. 

There's also the subject of a certain pilot that he hasn't come to terms with yet. Riloh Harmon, pain-in-the-ass, Canadian, (former) jaeger pilot that he... likes [just 'likes', it's safer that way]. Their parting just before hadn't exactly been the easiest or happiest thing [Riloh punched him in the face after kissing him], and left a lot of unexplained, sick emotions in Chuck's stomach. Riloh disappeared after Pitfall, probably with the belief that his lover was dead.

Which, no, Chuck was very much alive. When he'd woken up from the bent and burned escape pod, half a year before, Riloh had [admittedly] been the first thing on his mind before slipping into unconsciousness. But no hospital visit, no trace or sign had settled Chuck's nerves (the idiot had to know by now that Chuck was okay, he had to, he'd been all over the t.v. despite going to physical therapy--). 

So he put out a hunt, making international calls to Vancouver in an attempt to track the blond down. He had to get ahold of him, get him back [get him back to return the punch], turn this mess they made of each other into... whatever it was they were supposed to be. 

[tsunderehansen]

[tsunderehansen]

[text: hansen]: hey jerk [text: hansen]: u surf? [text: hansen]: i mean, they probably deport aussies who can't surf right?

[text: Riloh]: Reckon we'd have a lot of people leaving the country if we deported for that reason.

[text: Riloh]: But to answer your question, no. Haven't in a while. Is this an invitation to go sometime? 

[tsunderehansen]

I just wanted to let you know that it made me really happy seeing you on my dash again. I hope all is well with you and Chuck, my dear!

Anon, you made my day (but next time don’t be shy! :D). I’ve recieved a lot of hate from other anons about Chuck and it was really nice coming into my inbox to see this. 

[tsunderehansen]

I do like dating cynics - they tend to be incredibly funny

[tsunderehansen]