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Picking up the Pieces (With BlueAmbient)

Sitting on the side gave him plenty of time to think while he rested. He hadn't outright rejected the newly discovered information because he wasn't sure how he felt about it but he recognized that he wasn't off-put. He wasn't disgusted by the fact at all. In fact, it stirred something unfamiliar within him as he watched the other continue to work. When Mason spoke to him he seemed a bit startled by the question before shaking his head. "I don't mind if you keep going." he responded, not at all opposed to simply watching.

And that was exactly what he did because the next set of exercises were by far more visually appealing, a thought that he shoved aside because he was studying Mason's technique. He wasn't staring, or at least that was what he told himself. In a way he was oblivious to even his own interest in Mason, always trying to rationalize things. Even things that simply could not be rationalized. When he realized that maybe he was staring a little too much he broke the silence with a silly question that he probably didn't really care what the answer to even was. "How long do you think it will take me to be able to catch up with you." he asked, though he suspected it would take quite some time.
 
With Maverick's go ahead, Mason nods and stands up, heading over to the nearby pull-up bars. A small hop gets his feet off the floor, hands catching the bar. The tendons and muscles in his arms flex as he grips, taking a moment of dead-hang to prepare. Like this, arms above his head, his shirt rides up and leaves a good three inches of his midriff exposed.

Mason works through a series of hanging curls, pulling his knees up to his chest. This is followed by a series of pike lifts, bringing his legs straight out at a ninety degree angle to his torso. He's aware of Maverick's gaze, even enjoying it. Were this a different situation, Mason would relax his self-control and indulge in his exhibitionist side. But of course, he doesn't want to ruin their recovering friendship, and so keeps a tight lid on his own wants.

Mason is halfway through his last series, which is alternating side twists with knee lifts, when Maverick poses his question. Mason pauses, lowering his legs and simply hanging there. He doesn't seem to be the least bit tired, despite his entire routine seeming quite intense. "Hm, given your malnourishment, probably a month at least. Good food and good exercise will catch you up, but honestly, very few people can match me."

Mason is careful with his wording, not wanting to let slip his secondary power of enhanced strength, not yet. He doesn't want Maverick thinking he'd never catch up to Mason, though that is the reality of it. Finishing his set, Mason drops to the floor and walks over to Mason, rolling his shoulders to get out the last bit of pulling feeling from the hangs. He is lightly sweating now, but his breathing is as even as ever.
 
The answer he received was understandable. He hadn't really been able to care for himself as well as he would have liked and this was the result. Maverick used to be able to keep up stamina-wise back in the military but a long time had passed since then, and gains weren't permanent by any means. Still, it was mesmerizing how easy Mason made this look. It hadn't at all occurred to him that Mason was showing off for his benefit, oblivious as he was.

Once the other finished and came over Maverick handed him a bottle of water. "Guess I'll have to get into some better habits." he replied, though he had a feeling Mason wouldn't let him fall back into that minimalist lifestyle he had previously. He finished his own bottle of water off and got up to throw it in the recycling bin that seemed full of empty bottles of this and that. "You want to head back now?" Maverick asked, more than happy to call it a night.
 
Mason accepts the offered water bottle, essentially chugging the whole thing. He follows suit in tossing his bottle into the recycling bin, then turns to Maverick. “Yeah, we can head back. It’s late, and after this workout, you’re going to be tired.” Mason smiles and leads the way back to the locker room to get their things. He can shower at home; it’s unlikely he will be sleeping anytime soon, knowing nightmares are still around.

Once they’ve collected their stuff and have returned to the car, Mason speaks up on the way home. “You don’t have to rush into new habits, Maverick. I mean, yeah, good food and good sleep, obviously. But things like consistent exercise, household chores, even employment. Take your time. I don’t mind taking care of you.” There’s a light blush to Mason’s cheeks as he says this, and a small smile on his lips.
 
Getting up from where he was seated he nodded. He was already pretty tired and once they got their things and headed to the car he leaned back in the seat with all of his weight. "Yeah, I get it. But if I don't keep myself busy to some extent I'll just lose my mind." he responded. "I'll take it at my own pace though, I'm not crazy enough to rush into everything head-on anymore." That said he turned to see the slight flush to Mason's face.

Household chores was definitely something on his mind, especially since seeing the state of Mason's room that morning. It was a glorified hazard. "Tomorrow we can clean that room of yours though. I think that is better done sooner rather than later." he suggested, though it was hardly a suggestion at all. He wasn't going to leave the room in that state and let Mason risk breaking anymore bottles in his sleep. "I'm sure you won't have any objections to making the room safer."

As soon as they got home he wasted no time in getting inside and setting his things aside. He felt pretty gross now after all that exercise. "Looks like we better get cleaned up." he observed, though made no move to head to the bathroom. He was pretty tired and wondered if maybe Mason wanted to get cleaned up first. He much doubted that he had the energy to stand for an entire shower right this moment.
 
Mason’s flush darkens at the mentions of his bedroom. Now he’s just embarrassed that Maverick had seen it in that condition. He’d been about to make up some excuse, but Maverick’s second statement isn’t wrong; it would be better to clean up all the bottles and laundry tripping hazards.

Back at the house, Mason lets them in after parking the car in the garage. He looks at Maverick when the man mentions getting cleaned up, but he looks like he might fall over with a gentle push. “Can you manage a shower? I could run the bath for you if you’d prefer. The last thing we need is you slipping in the shower and giving yourself a concussion.” Mason gives Maverick a half smile, putting his keys and wallet on the side table by the door and kicking off his shoes.
 
Now it was Maverick's turn to looks lightly embarrassed. "I can shower..." he started. "But yeah, maybe a bath is better. Wastes less energy." That said, he decided to let Mason choose who goes first. "If you'd like to go first I can wait." he added while rubbing at the back of his neck. He probably woulnd't get concussed, but he would probably be sitting in the tub letting the water fall on him and it wouldn't be optimal.
 
Mason chuckles lightly, nodding his head. “Alright, I’ll shower, then run the bath. You should eat something so you don’t get low blood sugar. I’ll call you when it’s your turn.” Mason heads upstairs, and shortly after, the shower can be heard running. Mason doesn’t take too long, but he doesn’t call for Maverick until the tub is filled. He hadn’t brought clean clothes into the bathroom with him, so he’s only got a towel wrapped around his waist as he stands at the top of the stairs.

”Mavaerick, bath’s ready.” Mason has even laid out washcloth and towel for his new housemate. Once Maverick comes into view, Mason smiles. ”Don’t fall asleep in the tub, you’ll catch cold. I’m heading to bed. Wake me if you need anything. Goodnight, Maverick.” Mason turns and heads into his disaster of a bedroom, kicking laundry to one side. After pulling on a pair of boxers, he locates his knife. After brief contemplation, Mason shakes his head and sets the knife on the dresser, far out of reach from the bed. Better to not have a repeat of this morning, if he ends up having another nightmare.
 
Maverick nodded and made his way to the kitchen to find something to eat. He didn't plan to make anything too crazy, just a sandwich using whatever meats he could find in the fridge. He sat in the nearest chair and quietly ate it as he thought about his current situation and how lucky he was to run into Mason. This was so much better than living in his stupid car. He took his time to eat the sandwich and once he was done waited. He could hear the water running differently now, a sign that the shower was likely over.

As soon as he heard Mason's voice he got up and headed to the stairs, stopping at the bottom when he saw the other at the top. He didn't expect the other to be standing there in nothing but a towel. "R-right, that wouldn't be good." he responded, finally making his way up the stairs to the bathroom, his eyes lingering on Mason's retreating form a little longer than he should have. "Sleep easy." he called out, just as Mason was turning into his room.

Well, now that he was alone he stepped into the bathroom and got undressed. The water was nice and got and relaxing as he stepped in. This was a much better idea than standing. Once he was seated he leaned back and closed his eyes. Mason was right, he really shouldn't allow himself to fall asleep like this. With a sigh he started cleaning up. As much as he didn't want to leave the hot water he eventually got up and drained the tub. With how own towel he left the room and headed to his own room to crash on the bed. He was too tired to do much else for the night, though he did briefly wonder if Mason would be alright. Last night he had caused quite the scare, but surely that wasn't an every night occurrence. With that in mind, he did eventually doze off in just his towel, deciding he would get dressed in the morning.
 
Thankfully, Mason didn't have another nightmare this night. However, he didn't sleep, either. By 6am, he was out of his bed again, having not slept at all. He looks terrible, dark circles under his eyes, hair looking like he spent the whole night pulling on it. Not wanting to wake Maverick, and also not wanting to subject the man to the mess of his room, Mason sets to cleaning up all the laundry. He doesn't actually know what's clean and what's not, so anything not in the clean white basket gets tossed into the dirty hamper. Once that's done, he carries it to the laundry room downstairs and gets a load going.

Next, he clears away the bottles and cans. There's definitely more in here than a normal, healthy person should have. At least it will make for a decent return at the depot. And, if asked, he can just say it's been a while since he cleaned out his empties. It's not a full lie.

By the time he's finished these two tasks, it's almost 7am, so he sets to folding what little he has for clean clothing. After that, he straps the bed — he can't remember the last time he changed the sheets. A new embarrassment comes when he sees some mystery stain on the carpet halfway under the bed. Wishful thinking hopes it's some kind of alcohol, but in reality, it's probably old dried vomit.. With a heavy sigh, Mason leaves his bedroom to go get a bucket of soapy water and some kind of scrub brush.
 
Throughout the night he slept well. All the exertion and exercise really exhausted him to the point that his dreams were rather innocuous. He even slept in decently. When he did awaken it was after Mason was already up and about. The light from the window caused him to stir and he got up and recalled that he was naked still. He fished through the drawer for a pair of his new clothes and got dressed before coming out of his room to head downstairs.

He hadn't heard any loud sounds so he assumed Mason slept well, at least until he saw him in the hallway with a bucket. "Good morning, you're up early, huh?" he greeted just as he set eyes on the rather tired look the other wore. The bags in his eyes, Mason did not sleep well at all. "O-oh, uh..." he added, thinking he maybe should have gotten a better look at the other before opening his mouth. The bucket must have been for cleaning. "You're cleaning, right? We could do that after breakfast. If you want I can make something simple?" He could make pancakes or something. He was hungry and had planned to help clean, but he wanted to eat first and Mason looked like he could use the sustenance.
 
Having retrieved a bucket of soapy water and a scrub brush, Mason is met at the top of the stairs by Maverick. It takes him a moment to process the greeting, his own slow in return. When offered breakfast, Mason looks down at the bucket, then sighs quietly. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Let me just put this in my room, I'll be right down."

Mason finishes the walk down the hall to his bedroom, setting the bucket just inside the door. It's at this moment he realizes he's been wandering the house in only his boxers. His cheeks flush red and he moves further into his room in search of pants and a shirt. Maybe Maverick won't mention it.. Having located a clean pair of sweats and a clean grey shirt, Mason pulls them on and heads downstairs to join Maverick in the kitchen. He drops onto a stool at the island counter, then drops his head onto the counter with a solid thunk.
 
Mason's current state drew his attention in more ways than just one. It wasn't only the tired look he held but also his current state of dress. The only think keeping his mind to a more appropriate mindset was how utterly tired and exhausted Mason was. "I'll start on it right now. I'll make some coffee as well while I'm at it." He turned and headed downstairs to the kitchen where he started to mix up the pancake mix. Thankfully Mason has the easy mix that only required water so there was no way in hell he could mess it up.

At the same time he started the coffee then turned to the frying pan to start making a small stack on pancakes. It was then that Mason finally joined him, now appropriately dressed for breakfast. "You look like shit today. Did you sleep at all?" he asked curiously, the first statement a mere observation with no intent to offend. He paid attention to the pancakes to ensure he didn't burn them as he cooked and even added butter to them. Once the stack was complete he turned the stove off and set the plate on the island with Mason.

He grabbed two plates and some silverware, the syrup, and two coffee cups. The plates and such were placed on the island and he poured them both a cup of coffee and fixed his own up the way he liked it then did Mason's the way he observed it being done the previous morning. With all this completed he joined the other at the island and pulled two pancakes onto his own plate and began cutting them up. "I slept like a fucking brick last night." he stated.
 
Mason doesn't immediately lift his head, but he does answer Maverick's question. "No, I didn't sleep. Not for lack of trying. It's fine, this is.. Normal." It's not, at least, not for the average person. But it's normal for Mason. Between nightmares and occasional insomnia, Mason is lucky when he does get a normal night of sleep. His head stays on the counter until Maverick brings over pancakes and coffee. "I'm glad you slept well."

Lifting his head, Mason sighs, then yawns widely. He murmurs a thank you, then adds syrup to his pancakes and digs in. Four pancakes and an empty coffee mug later, Mason finally doesn't look as half aware as before. He's still tired, but feeling better.
 
That was unfortunate, but he understood it well enough himself. Sometimes it was hard to sleep if too much was on his mind, especially if he’d just woken from a bad dream. He’d done well to hide his own troubles so far.

Maverick approached his pancakes slightly differently from Mason, preferring to cut them all first and then pour on the syrup. The meal was good for them both, Mason clearly looking a bit better for wear now that he’d had breakfast and coffee. Maverick took their dishes to the sink and rinsed them before leaving them for later.

“Now, we can get to cleaning.” he announced, briefly wondering how much Mason had gotten done before he’d awoken. He could see a couple bags of bottles and cans near the entrance and he could hear laundry going so it was fair to say Mason must have done quite a bit so far.
 
“You really don’t need to help me with cleaning up my mess, Maverick. I appreciate it, but it is my ess to clean.” Once again, Mason is embarrassed that Maverick had seen the terrible state of his bedroom yesterday. Red tinges his cheeks. He stands, picking up the empty dishes and carrying them to the dishwasher. He busies himself with putting away the syrup and wiping down the counter and stovetop.

With perfect timing, the laundry machine chimes the end of its cycle. Mason hurries away to the laundry room to swap the load into the dryer and start the next one. He gets distracted by thoughts he really shouldn’t be entertaining, and seems to zone out, just standing and staring at the machines after having started both. What starts as concern that Maverick thinks his bedroom is disgusting - which it was - quickly turns into unbidden daydreams, centered around the remembered few seconds of Maverick on his bed, beneath him. So brief as it had been, it was still enough to bring forth stupid little fantasies long forgotten.
 
After having suggested the idea the previous day Maverick shook his head. "I said I would help." he simply countered, though he noted the reaction he had garnered and couldn't understand it. It didn't at all occur to him that Mason might think he would judge the other over the state of his room. After all, Maverick had been living in a car for the past who knows how long. As the laundry sounded and Mason ran off, Maverick headed upstairs to solidify his role in helping before Mason could make anymore protests about it.

The room was much cleaner than before, but there was clearly still work to be done. Glancing at the bed which had been stripped down he recalled the previous morning and just how quick Mason had been to pin him down. Mason was still quick-witted and strong, one of the things he had appreciated back in the war. They had been able to keep up with one another and react to each other quite effectively.

Grabbing a nearby broom he started to sweep the remainder of dust and glass particles that the sun revealed on the floor into a dustpan. If it hadn't been for the knife he would have found the situation arousing to have been held down like that. Probably. He couldn't deny the excitement he had felt before he noticed the knife, though at the time he had chalked it all down to adrenaline and nothing more. He tried to brush those thoughts aside in favor of the work that needed to be done.
 
It takes roughly ten minutes for Mason to realize he’s just been standing in front of the laundry machines. Shaking his head, he rubs a hand across his face and heads upstairs. He can hear Maverick moving around, no doubt following through on his offer to help clean Mason’s bedroom.

Mason leans in the doorway of the bedroom, watching Maverick. The shorter man doesn’t seem to have heard him, so Mason stays where he is. It’s probably wrong to stand there staring, but there’s just something about seeing Maverick being.. Domestic. A small smile comes to his face as he folds his arms across his chest.
 
Unsure what else Mason could possibly be doing to take so much time it didn’t matter as he focused on his work. Even in a mundane task like this he could focus entirely on the task alone and nothing else. Once he was done sweeping he went to the bucket without even thinking about it, getting down to wash the floor as well. His single-minded focus kept him from even noticing Mason’s presemce just yet.

It wasn’t until maybe five minutes later that he finally thought to look around and noticed Mason in the doorway. “Oh, you’re here.” he acknowledged, hand still moving across the floor with the soapy rag. There was no reason not to do the whole floor while they were here. He gestured to the bucket which had an extra rag in the water to prompt Mason to help. “Shouldn’t take long to do the whole floor.”
 
Mason watches Maverick get down on his hands an knees, and flushes at where his mind goes with that sight. That mental image creates an immediate reaction, and his cheeks heat further. When Maverick finally looks up at him, Mason is very thankful that the man doesn’t seem to notice anything.. Unusual. Mason clears his throat with a nod, moving to join Maverick on the floor.

”R-right..” Mason kicks himself, guilty that all these thoughts are coming rushing back so quickly. He shouldn’t be thinking this, Maverick just resurfaced. Mason needs to take care of the man, help him get back on his feet, gets stabilized, and then.. What? Let him go? Mason bites the inside of his lip and grabs the other cloth. He moves to a different section of floor, trying not to think about it too much. If it came to it, though, Mason would let Maverick walk away, if it made him happy to go and explore this post-war world.
 
The slight stutter in Mason's response caught his attention but he didn't think too much of it as his focus was primarily on the floor and the various stains that needed scrubbing. His shirt rode up some when he bent forward to reach a little further ahead but then he moved to get the rag wet once more from the bucket. "It must have been quite some time since this room last saw a proper cleaning." he observed, though he did chance a look at the other to see that he was doing much the same now.

"Reminds me of all the times we ended up on cleaning duty. I always thought it pointless that combatants like us were required to do such menial tasks when our specialties were something far more involved." he murmured. The additional soap and water helped ease the stains and allowed them to clean them fairly easily. Maverick moved along the floor before noticing that Mason was paying more attention to him than he thought necessary. It was a thought that made his heart beat a bit faster, something that no double wouldn't go unnoticed with Mason's power. He was being subtly observed.
 
Maverick holds Mason’s full attention every time he speaks, though Mason tries not to let it show. He hasn’t moved across the floor as much as Maverick has, but at least he looks like he’s cleaning. When the shorter man brings up cleaning duty in the military, Mason chuckles quietly. “The intention was to give us some sense of normalcy. You know, normal people keep their homes clean. So, we did too. If you just throw soldiers into battle over and over without any sort of downtime, they burn out too fast. Then, they become useless.”

When Maverick’s heartbeat speeds up, Mason doesn’t miss it. His hand becomes still, no longer pushing the washcloth back and forth. His eyes are on Maverick, hearing elevated, brain trying to figure out what had just caused that elevation. Did he get a sliver of glass in his hand? But he had swept already. Was Maverick having a reaction to the cleaning chemicals?
 
"Maybe so, but it seems a little inefficient." he responded but realized pretty quickly that Mason was right. His old mindset was making itself known for a moment. Before he'd joined the military he was working for the enemy, and the enemy didn't treat any of their underlings like actual people. It had made a lot of his time in the military a foreign experience as he had to relearn how such an organization was meant to operate. "No, you're right. I just never really understood it given my...other experiences."

Now aware of the watchful eye upon him, Maverick tried to regulate his heart and act normal. It was a futile effort. While he was good at hiding things from the outside, Mason's heightened senses made it impossible to hide otherwise. It was an off sense of excitement he couldn't quite place, just having Mason's attention on him. He tried to brush it off by working even harder on the floor, though he almost slipped as he had paid less attention to the wet floor than he should have. He caught himself on his hands and his face turned a little red at the blunder. "Oops!" he mumbled, getting back to work in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.
 
Mason’s concern increases when Maverick slips. He abandons his cloth to move closer to Maverick, frowning. The shorter man’s face is red now, and Mason is just dense enough to not figure out why in this moment. “Maverick, are you okay? Maybe you should take a break and get some fresh air. You could be reacting to the cleaning chemicals.” Mason touches the back of his hand to Maverick’s forehead, but he doesn’t feel overly warm.

’Hang on, I’ll open the window.” Mason stands and moves to the bedroom window. The curtains are already open, so he unlocks the window and pushes it up and open, waving one hand as if to fan the fumes out. “Come here, the fumes aren’t good to be breathing so much, anyway.”
 
While not looking, he can hear Mason approaching after having abandoned the cloth and a moment later he he could feel Mason's hand on his head, an action that made his heart beat even faster from the contact and proximity. "W-what? No, I'm fine." he started, about to deny the possibility of the chemicals having had any effect on him at all but the alternative was the truth and that...wasn't really easy to explain.

As Mason stepped away he decided to get up and take the convenient excuse for what it was, heading to the window for some fresh air. "I guess...makes sense." he replied, the morning breeze quite comforting. "But really, I'm fine. Just a little out of it I guess." After a moment of standing there leaning on the windowsill he tried to brush the whole thing off. "Fresh air does help. We should leave the window open for now." In fact, why hadn't he thought of that from the start?

When he turned to see Mason's concerned look he really wasn't sure how to navigate a situation like this. Half of the floor was finished so far and they could easily power through the second half. The red tint to his features remained as Mason was still observing him. "Let's get this done. The quicker we finish the better." This was said quickly as he moved back to the place he had left off and swiftly went to work with the remaining half of the room, hopefully with Mason's assistance.
 
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