Out-of-millicanon shenaniganings.

[stuck_mynock]

Atton is in the Paradox Squadron hanger (Force knows how they managed to get a hanger into the upper floors at the bar, Atton just isn't going to ask), doing repairs on his Dart.

(The Dart is a good ship. A compact, one-person light fighter in an arrowhead shape, coloured dark grey, with as many guns as the Republic's engineers could fit on it. It's one of the smaller ships there, with only the A-Wings being smaller, and even then not by much.

The Paradox Squadron symbol is etched on one wing, along with a tally of kills which is somewhat astronomical.)

This involves lying on his stomach on the top of the ship, curved over the cockpit, in jeans, an undershirt (both oil-soaked) and a rather large welding mask, poking at an open panel with something that sparks every so often.

"Shhhh, shhhh, darling. S'okay, we're nearly there ..."

Comments

[stuck_mynock]

Atton is totally not blushing under the welding mask, there isn't any blushing visible even as far down on his neck, that's your imagination, Sam.

"You are cruel," Atton says.

[necessary_child]

"Cruel, and really good at making you blush," Sam observes, cheerfully unrepentant. "Hello, Atton."

[stuck_mynock]

Atton slides off the Dart, pulling the welding mask off and setting it on the floor.

"S'not a good skill to have. S'a foolish skill."

[necessary_child]

"I don't know, I think it's pretty entertaining," Sam smirks. "But then I'm awesome, not a lanky dorkface such as yourself."

[stuck_mynock]

Atton gives Sam a mournful look.

Then reaches forward and shoves him.

[necessary_child]

D:

Atton is the most cruel of all possible Attons!

Sam, therefore, shoves back. Although given the difference in size between them, he has to put a bit more effort in.

[stuck_mynock]

D:

Atton rubs his fingers in some still wet oil situated near his collarbone and reaches forward, smearing it onto Sam's face.

"S'will make you prettier."

[necessary_child]

D:

"I hate you!"

SHOVE!

[stuck_mynock]

"No," Atton says mournfully, "I hate you. You are ugly."

Pause.

The saddest tackle.

[necessary_child]

"Ooof!"

Sam rolls over, fighting to be on top and to push Atton down.

[stuck_mynock]

Atton is determined not to lose this one!

There might be shameless abuse of his size and strength here.

[necessary_child]

D:

Uncool.

On the other hand...

"Hello, Atton."

Sam looks up at him, and squirms.

[stuck_mynock]

That is so not fair, Sam.

(That groan is of exasperation, totally. It's not just that Atton can't help himself while you're there squirming, Sam.)

"No fair," a little hoarsely, as Atton smears some oil onto Sam's neck.

[necessary_child]

Sam smirks, squirming again. Totally just to get away from the oil, obviously!

"Very fair."

After all, Atton started it!

[stuck_mynock]

Well, he does at least get a reprieve from the oil, as Atton braces himself on the floor and shuts his eyes.

"Guh. No, no, this is - this is the definition of not fair, you're a terrible person."

[necessary_child]

"I am a terrible person who is trapped underneath a well-oiled, good-looking, horrible man." Sam might as well be the platonic (or, er, non-platonic. As the case may be) definition of smug right now.

"And therefore I feel duty-bound to point out to you that whilst I am indeed a terrible person, I'm also a really fun one."

[stuck_mynock]

Atton tries not to blush, he really does. But, well, compliment.

"S'engine oil. Not good oil," Atton says, because he can't think of anything else.

Beat.

"Also, you are not fun at all."

[necessary_child]

Firmly, "It's good oil."

Sam bucks his hips up deliberately, just enough to get a reaction whilst still just about being able to claim that what, he's just trying to get away, okay.

"And I'm not fun yet. There is a difference."

[stuck_mynock]

Atton bites back a groan, and his own hips buck in response. He will vehemently deny that happened if asked.

"You are never fun, although you're always ugly. S'why I hate you."

[necessary_child]

...Um.

Sam doesn't groan, but he does suck in a slightly involuntary breath.

"The hatred is really showing right now, Atton, I have to say."

[stuck_mynock]

Defensively: "That's my lightsaber."

It's possible this is a lie.

[necessary_child]

Sam laughs.

"Is that a lightsaber in your pocket, Atton, or are you just pleased to see me?"

With a small mischievous squirm, just to remove all possibility of doubt.

[stuck_mynock]

"Hate."

[necessary_child]

Smirkety smirk smirk.

"So?"

[stuck_mynock]

Huffily: "I just thought you should know."