goshdarnspam | (◕ω◕✿)

[ He looks down at the water. ]

Thanks for fucking stating the obvious. How are we going to get out?

[ He didn't want to fucking die, that was for sure. How they were going to get out though, that was the question. His eyes danced across the water, looking for something, anything. If only he could figure out a way to get out, or maybe if there was something that would suddenly be their saving grace. ]

[ Bradbury frowns, chewing on his lip. The rising water gives him an idea, but when he turns and tries punching the wall, bruised knuckles are all he has to show for it. The risk isn't high enough, at least not enough for his fucked up power to register it. He has his gun, but waterlogged as it is, it's useless right now.

The floor tips sharply, water rushing in, and the decision is out of Bradbury's hands. Decisively, he strides over to Mitch, pulling him to his feet even as the water goes from ankle to waist in what feels like a matter of heartbeats. ]

Do you trust me?

[ He stares down at the water, watching it rise, and he barely notices how close Bradbury is, before he finally swallows, catching sight of him, and realizing that they were painfully close. He swallows, but says nothing more than that, because they were fucking drowning, in a glorified closet...somewhere in the water.

And they were going to fucking drown. ]

Shit, if it means I'll keep my life...

[ As if it were that he didn't rust him anyway, which he did, even if he didn't say it.

At least in most situations. ]

[ Bradbury's clothes were already wet, and so were Mitch's, so the rising water can't really worsen anything in that department. There was something almost painfully determined in his eyes as he stared Mitch down, one arm sliding to wrap around his waist.

He could feel the water lapping at his ribcage, and there wasn't any more time to waste on trying to explain something he was basically taking a gamble on. ]

You need to take my breath away. [ Wow, that came out a hell of a lot gayer than he intended it to, no matter how forcefully he said it. Before Mitch could form a response or give him shit about it, he was bringing one hand around to the hair at the base of his head, tipping it back so he could place his mouth on Mitch's again.

This time, it wasn't the steady, sure seal of his lips over Mitch's. His lips pressed a little too hard, noses and teeth bumping awkwardly, but the hand in Mitch's hair wouldn't let him move away, except to catch his breath -- Bradbury needs to be breathless, but not Mitch. His heartbeat roars louder than the water rushing in, and he hopes Mitch can't hear or feel it.

At least if this doesn't work, they'll be dead and he can hope like hell he gets to come back before Mitch does so he can kill himself again from the sheer embarrassment. ]

Edited (tensessss) 2013-05-19 06:17 (UTC)

[ He wanted to struggle away, worm himself out, especially with Rick's hand around his waist. He felt the sinking feeling striking through his stomach, feeling the urge to hork, if only because his entire brain started screaming in protest. His brain went where he didn't want it to go.

He wanted to bite down, but he didn't. He wanted to struggle, but he didn't. They were going to die if he didn't man up and do something, and so he did. He let himself be pressed to Rick's lips, and he held there, trying to figure out how this was supposed to work.

Just suck the air out?

This was fucking awkward, and weird. He was trying to anyway, but if in consequence, his lips moved slightly against Rick's, well, that was just because he couldn't help it, right? It wasn't anything else.

Because he couldn't move. He couldn't do much of anything, except follow the order. And maybe possibly save their lives, if Rick could help. ]

[ There wasn't any pleasure in this, just simple desperation, because the water kept rising and they didn't have much time. He walked them backwards towards the part of the wall he felt might be the weakest, where they had the best chance of getting out. They might get only one shot at this, and he didn't want to miss it.

He was trying to focus on the escape plan more than Mitch's mouth under his own, but the uncertainty of the press of his lips made him groan in soft exasperation before pressing, harder -- crowding Mitch against the corner of the room they'd have air the longest, where they'd be able to gasp a few
more lungfuls of oxygen before it was replaced by water.

And it was more than just an exercise in theory, because he was kissing Mitch now, really kissing him, heavy but quiet, just letting sensation teach him to forget how to breathe at all, one of his hands lacing into Mitch's. He'd need to hold on. ]

[He'd been fooling himself into thinking that this would be okay. That this would be alright. That he could fake this, "steal breath" in some weird way. He thought maybe it could be like reverse CPR. He'd been hoping it would be like that.

It wasn't, though. It never had been planned to be like that. Instead, he was being forced into kissing Rick, or really, being kissed by Rick. He felt his throat work into a swallow, involuntarily, even while he inhaled, audible, even over the rush of water.

He held on, tight, onto the hand lacing into his. They'd held hands before. The comfort of human contact a rare thing to reach out to, but when they were about to die, it seemed to be necessary. Like all the loneliness had been so futile. Hadn't been worth it. He held on for dear life, hoping that whatever this was, it was going to work.

Because maybe letting Rick take charge was just a little too easy for him.

He couldn't allow for that. ]

[ His eyes had fallen shut, keeping track of the water levels only by the way he could feel it creeping up his body, but when he felt the water lap at their chins, when he could taste the salt on his lips, he let his eyes snap open, mouth parting from Mitch's only long enough to let the air rush out of his lungs with one last order. ]

Deep breath.

[ His hand slid under Mitch's chin, tilting him up to take one last breath in the pocket of air they had, before he was leaning in to press their lips together again. Chaste, this time, no sense in risking the water rushing in, but no less urgent, fingers holding Mitch's with crushing force. God, he really hoped this worked.

Then the water closed over their heads, and then there wasn't time to even hope. ]

Edited 2013-05-19 23:20 (UTC)

[ He managed to suck in as much as he could, but it wasn't enough. It never would be, because his heart was pounding too hard, and his lips were moving in a way that he wasn't used to moving. He was operating on all cylinders, too many, actually.

His head was reeling. He wanted to gasp, but he couldn't, and he gripped at Rick's hand, the other holding onto his shoulder, trying to figure out how this was supposed to be taking his breath away, because he was already in over his head, but he held on, and hoped for the best, even if he couldn't really do much of anything.

Hell, he felt like he was the one who wasn't going to have any breath. ]

[ He held the kiss, but the rush of bubbles against Mitch's face accompanied the controlled, deliberate release of his breath. Emptying his lungs. He could remember drowning, and every instinct he had screamed against it, but he forced the motion anyway. He could manage that much control over himself, if nothing else.

For a long moment, it's nothing but his lips pressed against Mitch's, his eyes open underwater. His lungs scream for him to take a breath, and he does water choking him -- and something in him shifts gears, responds to the threat to his life, and his friend's.

It's enough. Adrenalin rushes through him, and his arm wraps around Mitch with bruising strength as he wrenches him close and kicks the wall, metal hull splitting like the skin of an overripe fruit. He drags them free of the wreck, still running on the high of his powers right up until his head breaks the surface and he coughs and chokes on the seawater he's inhaled, body humming from overexertion. He barely has the presence of mind to hang on to Mitch and make sure he's afloat, but the motions weren't enough to dislodge his grip on his shoulder. Shockingly enough. ]

[ He's more or less in a haze, because even if he's holding his breath, even if he's got the advantage, Mitchell doesn't have the stamina or ability to hold off from breathing like Rick does. He's already fading when he kicks through, but instinctively, he's pulling away, getting a mouthful of salt water in the process.

Which forces him to swallow a belly-full of the water, but he still doesn't try to breath, knowing that would spell death. Or at least CPR, which was close enough to what they were already doing.

He tried to groan in protest, but didn't get far enough, still under water, his legs starting to kick weakly until they hit the surface, and then he does make a sound of surprise, perhaps frustration, more than anything, he made a sound of alarm. ]

Fuck--!

[ If Mitch could swear, Mitch was probably alive, and Bradbury hung on to that thought while he coughed and choked on saltwater, feeling the sting of it in his throat and his sinuses.

He turned around just in time to see the shitty boat they were on sink miserably into the water. He can see a couple of life vests and flotation devices bobbing in the water, and that's probably a better bet than relying on his ability to keep treading water, but he needed a moment to just... he needed a moment. ]

Jesus. [ His voice was a hoarse rasp, and he was too tired to care what it looked like when he dropped his face to rest against the side of Mitch's head. He was still having difficulty breathing, and his pulse hadn't slowed down, but they were alive.

And maybe it was the sheer, uncomplicated relief of that which had him leaning in to kiss Mitch again on impulse, his mouth certain even if his once-steady hands suddenly started shaking. ]

[ Trying to back away was impossible with the way Rick was clutching to his shoulder, with the way he was leaning in, and then he was moving forward again, and Mitchell was trying (weakly) to back up and away.

Even if it would hurt to sit there and keep himself off, he was trying, but it was too late, and the damage was done. He couldn't get away fast enough, and Rick was bigger and too close for him to back up, so he caught Rick's lips.

They were already inundated with salt, but he could still taste the salt water on his lips, the heat from his mouth in the middle of the chill body of water, he wanted desperately to back off.

But even if he could have tried, he couldn't. ]

[ It's a long, long moment before Bradbury's brain actually caught up to what he was doing and he pulled away with a quiet gasp, though his face was still too close for comfort. ]

Sorry, I -- [ Didn't mean to do that sounded pretty shallow, given that right up to the point he'd broken away his mouth seemed to know what it was doing well enough. There was confusion in his face and his voice, like he'd come close to figuring something out but didn't quite go the whole way, before he shook it off, gaze dropping. ]

Come on. [ He tugged Mitch through the water, legs scissoring while he kicked them over to the floating debris, letting Mitch hang off a flotation device while Bradbury grabbed what he needed. ]

Put this on. [ A lifejacket. ]

[ Mitch didn't even stop to look at him now, keeping his eyes focused forward, forever forward, hard and sharp. He didn't confront it for a long time.

Instead, he put on the jacket, slipping his hands through the jacket to get it on, still having to weakly tread water while he floated in the middle, looking around for land, and seeing none.

Now that they were out of the locked cage of the boat, he could note the sounds in the distance. He winced, but didn't call any yet. He wasn't chancing that yet. He wasn't going to call anyone over with Bradbury still...fucking whatever he was, himself. ]

Thanks.

[ He didn't talk about the kiss. Shit, he didn't even mention it, even if the way his eyes kept looking straight at the ground, the way he didn't look at him once spoke volumes. ]

[ A lifejacket was more a hindrance than a help, but honestly? Bradbury didn't trust the strength of his own limbs to hold out. They hadn't, last time. So he struggled into one, ill-fitting though it was. He din chance looking at Mitch for a long time, but when he finally did-- he frowned at what he saw.

Confrontation wasn't in Bradbury's nature, which he knew suited Mitch just fine. But this -- he didn't know if he could let it lie. But it would have to wait. ]

What's the plan?

(◕ω◕✿)

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