Welcome to Gaia! ::

It hadn't been a very long nap. The rainy afternoon light was still filtering in through the bedroom window when Jordan woke up again, warm and comfortable and feeling very good. He stayed right where he was; he'd exchanged a pod room shift with a Moon who owed him a minor favor so that he could have his afternoon entirely free for whatever he wanted to do with it. There was still time.

"Mmm. Yes." Jordan laughed a little and rolled over to face Rep, draping his arm over Rep's waist and idly running his fingers through his long hair, just enjoying the freedom to touch. He had not dreamed, or if he had he did not remember it. But the dreams would no longer carry as much of a bitter edge to them when he woke, and he was grateful for this as well. "The look on the tech's face was pretty funny, anyway."

The sound of rain was soothing, as was the warmth of shared breath. He drew his toes along Rep's ankle absently. It wouldn't always be this simple, but that was okay. Neither of them expected it to be. They'd work through problems as they arose.

"One of their specialties. Although I'd argue that you can find smug pricks in every division," Jordan said lazily. He was content in Sun, regardless of the occasional run-ins with opposing personalities. There were always adjustments to be made.

Jordan had trimmed his hair recently, and it feathered short around the nape of his neck again. He made a small pleased sound at the touch, leaning into it like an affectionate cat.

"You've seemed irritable," he agreed, mild. "I think a grocery store would be a great idea, get in a place where people get can get some necessities and groceries without having to burn leave to do it. Got a spot in mind, or are you still looking?"

"Personality traits that coincide with Fear sensitivity: paranoia, aggression, smug-prickness." Jordan laughed softly. "I think Allan drives most of them off Sun with sheer weird enthusiasm."

He tipped his head back with a pleased hum, eyes half-closing. "Mmm. Makes sense. Get people invested in a shopping district and you'd have more defenders too."

"I'm glad you found somewhere you're more comfortable." Jordan shifted closer, enjoying the warmth. "It'd probably piss me off after a while. Different styles." He'd been in Death in another of the lives he'd glimpsed, but it might have been different there. He didn't know.

"Depending on the franchise, you could probably get in some of the products," he mused. "Don't waste the money on Starbucks, though. s**t coffee. Local places are almost always better anyway." It was said with a small laugh, an acknowledgement that his snobbery was ridiculous. "Coffee place, grocery, maybe a general store. I wonder if anyone's got the experience to get a restaurant started."

"You've got important things to say, you're knowledgeable," Jordan said, but he wasn't going to start an argument over it if Rep objected. This was their time to relax together and be close, rather than having an extended discussion.

"And you put more sugar in it than should even be legal, anyway," he teased gently. "I bet we've got more people with marketable skills than we know about. It'd be nice to have the town start to be a real place to live again, instead of just a few scattered houses." It was a good dream, he thought, and it was a good thing for Rep to have a goal, even if it was a relatively nebulous and far-off one.

"If that's the way you'd rather have it," Jordan said, somber for a moment. He had never considered Rep as dumb as many people seemed to; there was a sharp mind behind the aggression and bluster, sharper than people gave Rep credit for. But if Rep preferred to be underestimated, Jordan wasn't going to argue the point. He reached up to trace two fingers along the line of Rep's jaw, a slow caress.

"Way too sweet," he laughed. "If I wanted to drink sludge I'd drink the cafeteria coffee." He shifted, rearranging himself to lean on one elbow. "It's a good project," he agreed, and offered, tentatively, "If you want my help with stuff ... "

Hearing the thought voiced hurt every time, a reminder that much of what drove Rep stemmed from old, deep injuries, pain lived with long enough to have become background noise inside the walls built in part to defend against it. Jordan didn't answer the statement in words, instead leaning in for a short, soft kiss, wordless reassurance. I hear you. I'm still here.

"Maybe they'll have to replace the machine with all the rest of the s**t that got damaged in the cafeteria," he said, sounding vaguely hopeful.

"I'll help, then. Just call me." This, too, was a reassurance, this one for him: still wanted, still needed, in more than one way.