[ The smile fades but the sadness lingers, hearing the quiet incredulity in Ian’s voice, the way he phrases himself. Mace allows himself a full thirty seconds to feel the warmth from those words, and then shakes his head.
For the first time, he's something other than unapologetically himself. A hollow moment, thinking what it would be like to pretend to be somebody different, feel that warmth a little longer. Somebody with rounder, blurrier edges, somebody who wouldn’t be willing to take a scalpel to his teammate’s wrist if it came down to it.
Can’t, though. Can't pretend. Everything else aside, it’s not fair to Ian. It’s especially unfair to him, given what he'd said the night before. Mace doesn't belong anywhere near a pedestal. ]
The mission we were on, it went sour near the end. There were a couple times when I had to make a choice between a crew member and — Earth. Chose Earth, rubbed her the wrong way. Not just the choice, but that I didn’t hesitate. I guess she figured that meant that I didn’t regret it.
[ What the hell was the point of showing your regret? It didn’t bring anybody back. It didn’t change what had to be done. At the same time, he understands now that Cassie had considered him heartless for it, and doesn’t blame her; it’s not like he tried to dissuade her of the notion. He just wishes he’d known it before the launch, back when they’d been training together.
Being the hated half of a hate-fuck only worked if you knew what was going on beforehand. ]
Thing is, I grew up on military bases, and … [ Slower now, weighing his words in a way he hadn’t before. ] It’s a lot of bastards out there who only understand one language. I had to become fluent.
[ It's the reason he hadn’t graduated out of the air force’s ROTC; a cadet willing to cut up an officer wasn’t exactly pilot material, even if the officer was a piece of shit. ]
So there you have it, full disclosure. Not Prince Charming. His bodyguard, maybe.
[ A hint of a grin as he finally looks up into those eyes, lifting his eyebrows up and down as if to say, that means you’re the prince — one last flirtation before Ian disengages from him entirely. Belatedly, he pops the clementine into his mouth and barely tastes it, focused on the shoulder pressed up against his own and counting down to when it would pull away. ]
And I'm still fine taking the rug. [ If you want. ]
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For the first time, he's something other than unapologetically himself. A hollow moment, thinking what it would be like to pretend to be somebody different, feel that warmth a little longer. Somebody with rounder, blurrier edges, somebody who wouldn’t be willing to take a scalpel to his teammate’s wrist if it came down to it.
Can’t, though. Can't pretend. Everything else aside, it’s not fair to Ian. It’s especially unfair to him, given what he'd said the night before. Mace doesn't belong anywhere near a pedestal. ]
The mission we were on, it went sour near the end. There were a couple times when I had to make a choice between a crew member and — Earth. Chose Earth, rubbed her the wrong way. Not just the choice, but that I didn’t hesitate. I guess she figured that meant that I didn’t regret it.
[ What the hell was the point of showing your regret? It didn’t bring anybody back. It didn’t change what had to be done. At the same time, he understands now that Cassie had considered him heartless for it, and doesn’t blame her; it’s not like he tried to dissuade her of the notion. He just wishes he’d known it before the launch, back when they’d been training together.
Being the hated half of a hate-fuck only worked if you knew what was going on beforehand. ]
Thing is, I grew up on military bases, and … [ Slower now, weighing his words in a way he hadn’t before. ] It’s a lot of bastards out there who only understand one language. I had to become fluent.
[ It's the reason he hadn’t graduated out of the air force’s ROTC; a cadet willing to cut up an officer wasn’t exactly pilot material, even if the officer was a piece of shit. ]
So there you have it, full disclosure. Not Prince Charming. His bodyguard, maybe.
[ A hint of a grin as he finally looks up into those eyes, lifting his eyebrows up and down as if to say, that means you’re the prince — one last flirtation before Ian disengages from him entirely. Belatedly, he pops the clementine into his mouth and barely tastes it, focused on the shoulder pressed up against his own and counting down to when it would pull away. ]
And I'm still fine taking the rug. [ If you want. ]