Chuck || Motorcity

[dieharder]

Comments

[livefaster]

[Another stretch, or hunch, as he makes the muscles of his shoulders tense and extend for a moment with a sigh.] My bad.

[Hooking an arm under the pillow, he smiles a little wider at the reply. It worried him that Chuck didn't get much sleep lately, especially when he needs it the most. His brain went through miles an hour every single day, and really, such an overworked head should rest.

He's glad he found at least some tranquility here.] Me, too.

[dieharder]

Can we just not get out of here. Ever. [He offers, muffled from behind the covers. It's not like it's cold outside, but the air still feels unpleasant against his hand and the exposed half of his head.]

Let's just skip a day. Whatever, I'm sure the others wouldn't notice. [He groans a bit, rubs his nose against the pillow and lets his face bury into the fabric.]

[livefaster]

Not sure about tha--[a yawn, the laziest of yawns ever to be seen in Mike Chilton's face. He laughs at the strength of it when it's done, eyebrows arching]. You promised Julie you'd work on her cloning system, right?

[Not that he'd really mind staying there, either. Chuck looked really comfortable there, and as much as Mike throws him off that area, to see him so happy in it kind of makes him want to let him stay there.] But I think we can stay for a couple more hours.

[dieharder]

I did... [He sorta wants to kick himself for that promise right then. Instead he covers himself up completely, only leaving strands of blond hair to rest over the pillow. He nods and replies, again slurred and yawned out, from under the bedsheets.]

Great idea, Mike. Liking that plan. Let's... Yeahhhmmm.

[livefaster]

[He reaches to tug lightly at the strands slipping out from the covers.] Pretty sure she isn't in a hurry, though.

[He drapes his arm on the bundle that is Chuck's form underneath the covers. He at least hopes that there won't be any alarms any time soon.] Think you can sleep a bit more?

[dieharder]

Yeah, but he sooner I finish... Texas also wanted me to - and I quote - 'do some nerdy thing' on his car.

[He scoots closer, curling up a bit as he shakes his head. He knows himself well enough to know that once he's awake enough, he won't be able to fall back asleep. When his brain starts thinking up the things he has to do, then there's no point in even trying.] No. But this is nice.

[livefaster]

[Mike chuckles at the quote and shakes his head, smiling fondly.] Apparently it has to do with his propellant. Something about synchronizing? [He had heard Dutch trying to translate Texasese into English because it had been the one thing he had been concerned about in his car.

Aside from katana propellers that could cut things and make Stronghorn fly.

He sees the slight scoot towards him and scoots himself, arm that had been lying randomly on the burrito that was Chuck hooking his slightly to help him move and tug him a little closer. He rests his chin on the tug of what is probably Chuck's head, plus blanket.] Hm. Yes it is.

[dieharder]

So Texas's-- [A tiny mewled breath as he stretches his back] -- propellant's gonna have to wait.

[He stays like that for a little while, but eventually pulls the covers down with his hand until his head is poking out, then moves his arm to rest over Mike's side.] Can't breathe.

[livefaster]

[A snicker, and a hand comes up to pinch lightly at Chuck's nose.] What, the air ended down there? How did that happen?

[Because the better thing to do aside from chilling in bed with his best friend, is to tease him just a little.]

[dieharder]

Course not. [He wrinkles his nose with a tiny frown, shaking his head a little to will Mike's hand away.]

It's just hot.

[livefaster]

Hm, I like it here. [He stops the pinching and curls up a little, relaxing.] Warm and toasty.

[He thinks about those words for a second.] We could have toast for breakfast, too.

... or... what's that thing called before lunch...

[dieharder]

Brunch...? [He offers with some doubt - he doesn't remember if that was the name. His stomach does grumble a little at the mention of food.]

Man, I don't even know what time it is. Maybe it's lunch hour already.

[livefaster]

That's it, yeah!

[Though Chuck places a good point. They had gone to sleep amazingly late working into last minute arrangements and then, too wired from work, talked their way to Mike's room and onto his bed without much of a second thought.

They had probably fallen asleep still talking or replying with absent hums.]

[He reaches for Chuck's wrist, to stop him from summoning a hologram.] No cheating and checking. I think Texas would've banged onto the door if it's past lunch. You know how he insists about meals being a group thing.

[dieharder]

I wasn't gonna! [...except his other hand was already pulling away from its resting place over Mike to pull up a screen.

Well. Fine, he can manage not knowing the time. He relaxes his arm again, giving up on the idea as he closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Mike's collarbone.] Yeah... you're right. Let's just stay in until he comes knocking.

[livefaster]

[Mike was about to shake his head in good-nature at Chuck's claim, but the pressure through his shirt of his forehead stops him, eyebrows arched and the smile slipping away just for a second before it comes back, a little deeper, a little fonder. Mike tucks the rest of Chuck's blanketed torso under his arm, wiggling and getting comfortable.] Sounds like the best plan.

[dieharder]

[And that's how he'll stay, eyes closed and resting, soft breaths against Mike's skin.

Well, except for the arm weighting on Mike; before Chuck realizes, he's thinking up plans and ideas, thoughts on the things he needs to do that day, his hand casually accompanying his mind by drawing against the wall behind Mike, without Chuck even realizing he's doing it.]

[livefaster]

[He feels the tilt of Chuck's wrist shifting with each curve and angle, the weight of it moving forward and back, lower and higher. It figures that Chuck was already restless. He's capable of thinking the various ways of frying an egg in the blink of an eye.

He doesn't really do anything to stop him.] Pizza for your thoughts?

[dieharder]

Just a pizza? [He grins up at Mike, even if half of it is cut off by Mike's chin. He shrugs a little as he moves away enough that he can look at his friend.]

Nothing special. Was just thinking about 9Lives' coding. You know it's different from Mutt, I had to make something that Julie would understand... [It's a little purposeful, maybe, that Mutt's programming is in a language much more complex, and with a lot of add-ons Chuck came up with himself. Call him silly, childish, selfish, whatever-- he likes to be the only one that gets it, and the only one that can properly mess around with it.]

A lot of stuff is different. Stronghorn too. [Though Stronghorn has very little coding and is mostly raw power and muscle.] I gotta adjust settings. I was just thinking ahead.

[livefaster]

[Mike understands this, nodding. He always understood why the cars were so different: they had to fit the personality of the driver, otherwise it would make little sense. He knows that Chuck agrees, and really admires how he can adapt to every different setting and make an amazing job.

He smiles brightly.] And that's why I like having you in the team, bro.

[dieharder]

[He looks a little surprised at the response, eyes widening even from behind his bangs. When he manages, he smiles, looking down a little in embarrassment as a hand unconsciously moves to rub at his own neck.]

Oh, I... Gee. Thanks. Thanks, Mikey.

[It's not like he doesn't think he's bright. He knows he's brilliant, and he doesn't bother trying to be too modest about it. But it's always nice, and a little unexpected, whenever others tell him - whenever Mike tells him that he wants, he likes him with them. It calms his insecurities, even if only for a little while.]

[livefaster]

[He watches his bashful mannerisms, feels the mattress wobble with the tension in his body and the shifting of his weight. Sometimes he didn't understand how Chuck could still be so insecure about himself when he holds such a great head on his shoulders.

Mike even believes that Chuck's a lot wiser than him. He supposes that's what makes them work so well together. He shakes his head. ] Just telling you the truth.

[dieharder]

[Chuck mirrors the nod, shrugging as he lets the hand rest over the pillow.]

Yeah. I know. [Still doesn't invalidate the fact he's thankful. He stretches his legs on the bed, but otherwise not moving.] Maybe we should get up...

[livefaster]

Hmm, maybe... [He pretends to think about this.

Then wraps his arm tighter around Chuck.] Naaaaah.

[dieharder]

[At that, Chuck snorts and giggles, and lets himself be pulled closer until his head is back to fitting against Mike's neck and shoulder.]

Hmm, fine by me... [It's very unusual to see Mike not running around restless. In fact, it was almost foreign to feel his almost unmoving body next to him, actually indulging in the quiet and the laziness of the morning, not jumping up like a loose spring at the first feeling of morning awareness.

He hooks an arm around Mike again - he's not about to complain, that's for sure.]

[livefaster]

[It's deceptive. He's moving in little ways: his thumb draws circles on the blanket, his toes wiggle, his knees shift against each other, then each resting on the mattress, then switching position, his chin either finds rest on the top of Chuck's head or a little higher.

Still, for someone who drives himself crazy when there's nothing to do, he's still pretty relaxed. He buries his nose in Chuck's hair and takes a deep breath.]