[Nightlight]

[seeagreatergood]

So things got awkward and Auggie moved his stuff back out of the Stark household into Milliways.

And he's been totally fine with it. Honestly. It's been kind of a relief not to have to keep such a close eye on himself the last three or four days. Milliways is kind of anxiety-inducing, but less anxiety inducing than living in a house with those two young men.

Of course, he misses the easy camaraderie. But it's not like this is the first time he valued safety over friendship.

Comments

[seeagreatergood]

"Sherlock," Auggie groans. "If you weren't already bleeding I would kick your ass."

[if_inconvenient]

"Auggie, I am going to keep taking risks no matter how old I get. That is just the sort of person I am." He quirks a smile. "And you may kick my ass regardless, if you like. I'm sure we can find somewhere to put a few more bruises."

[seeagreatergood]

He facepalms.

"You would get off on it and I wouldn't. So no, not right now."

[if_inconvenient]

"Suit yourself," he says brightly.

[seeagreatergood]

Auggie pinches the bridge of his nose, takes a deep breath, and picks up his cane.

"All right, I can't do this anymore."

[if_inconvenient]

"I am sorry."

[seeagreatergood]

"Yeah, thanks."

He stands up.

"I don't even know where to start, Sherlock. I'm pretty sure sleeping with you is just going to fuck both of us up even more."

[if_inconvenient]

That hurts a little.

"I don't believe it will," he says, soft but distinct, keeping the hurt out of his voice because to show it would do no one any good. "But if you do, then we'll say no more about it."

[seeagreatergood]

"No, saying no more about it is apparently what got me into this mess in the first place."

Deep breaths, Auggie.

"We are going to talk about this again," evenly, "when you're not bleeding and I can think straight."

[if_inconvenient]

"All right. Shall I take you downstairs?"

[seeagreatergood]

"I'll make it. Thanks, though."

[if_inconvenient]

"Anytime."

[seeagreatergood]

"Thanks," again. Goddammit, this whole thing sucks out loud.

He heads out into the hallway, closes the door behind him, and leans against the wall. He's pissed off and worried and scared and confused and he doesn't know how to make Sherlock understand because the guy is so infuriatingly certain and--

He slams the side of his fist against the wall, hard enough to hurt like hell. It takes him a second to realize that Sherlock will have heard that.

Fucking hell. Time to go back to his own room. He needs to get his head right.