...Solder a board. Clu could feel it on his face, the spreading warmth not too different from a circuit flare. He was repeating himself, too, pulling the verbal tango, like a hacker caught with a stolen password, hot-palmed and stammering.
It was just that he hadn't felt this way in so long. Fierce hope and possessive pleasure warred with nervousness, with hesitation, further challenging his calm--strong new instincts alert for good signs and scents and hedged against causing his alpha displeasure or distress. It was definitely easier to blame his omega nature than admit even the remotest possibility he might be scared: of whether he was blowing it, of what alpha's answer might be, of how he would take it, either way...
Because, Clu realized, blinking, that he'd accept either answer. If they had a future together, he'd go anywhere and do anything to make that happen. Everything his code-brother asked.
And if they didn't--Clu was more scared of the certain knowledge that he would put his code-brother first. Do what made him happy. Put someone else above himself.
Maybe he hadn't felt this way, ever, about another being.
"I--" Glitched for bugs, it was too important to dance around any longer! Why couldn't he get the words out?
If his code-brother didn't want him, then he didn't. It was that simple. It would be that simple. He could take it.
Except--those were not the kinds of things his alpha was saying. He was saying other things. Collaborative things, about how effective they were, about how good it was to work through problems together, and it's been pretty great (with that little smirk for it's all been pretty great putting a sharp flicker of pleasure in him.)
"Oh," just a breath, hopeful, and then, "Oh like--Official, official," which was just idiocy, a waste of syllables. "Yeah, man!"
Sharp, but enthusiastic.
Deep breath. Go more carefully. Give him a second to put his cocoa down, so he doesn't inhale it and die.
"Exactly, I want to--what do they even do, here--" Hot hot face, teeny tiny words, but definite and precise as thumbtacks. "I really wanna bundle with you. Permanently."
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It was just that he hadn't felt this way in so long. Fierce hope and possessive pleasure warred with nervousness, with hesitation, further challenging his calm--strong new instincts alert for good signs and scents and hedged against causing his alpha displeasure or distress. It was definitely easier to blame his omega nature than admit even the remotest possibility he might be scared: of whether he was blowing it, of what alpha's answer might be, of how he would take it, either way...
Because, Clu realized, blinking, that he'd accept either answer. If they had a future together, he'd go anywhere and do anything to make that happen. Everything his code-brother asked.
And if they didn't--Clu was more scared of the certain knowledge that he would put his code-brother first. Do what made him happy. Put someone else above himself.
Maybe he hadn't felt this way, ever, about another being.
"I--" Glitched for bugs, it was too important to dance around any longer! Why couldn't he get the words out?
If his code-brother didn't want him, then he didn't. It was that simple. It would be that simple. He could take it.
Except--those were not the kinds of things his alpha was saying. He was saying other things. Collaborative things, about how effective they were, about how good it was to work through problems together, and it's been pretty great (with that little smirk for it's all been pretty great putting a sharp flicker of pleasure in him.)
"Oh," just a breath, hopeful, and then, "Oh like--Official, official," which was just idiocy, a waste of syllables. "Yeah, man!"
Sharp, but enthusiastic.
Deep breath. Go more carefully. Give him a second to put his cocoa down, so he doesn't inhale it and die.
"Exactly, I want to--what do they even do, here--" Hot hot face, teeny tiny words, but definite and precise as thumbtacks. "I really wanna bundle with you. Permanently."