Heero was about as bad at openers as it was possible to be, so while he was standing rather close by, watching something that might or might not have been going on in the distant desert, he hadn't actually done anything like, oh, say hello. It wasn't mission-related, after all.
Moist looked over to turn his face into a light, hot breeze, and there was Heero, standing where there had only been sand just moments before.
Moist blinked, all easy nonchalance and not at all someone whose bloodpressure had just jumped up a few notches and his bladder had just* exerted some amazing self control.
"Some weather we're having, eh?" he said, squinting out at the desert. "But you know what they say, if you can't stand the heat, get out of dry baked, desolate, killing wasteland."
Heero went on looking at him, his expression gone to thoughtful and a bit piercing. "We won't let anything happen to you," he said after a moment, as if he was not entirely sure how to make the words sound as if he meant them.
"I..." Moist said, eyebrows somewhere near his hair line and shock self evident on his face. "Appreciate that, ah, yes."
He cleared his throat, giving the other man an appraising look. "I wasn't explicitly aware that something may happen to me, that would need preventing."
Heero didn't say anything, mostly because he had no idea how to continue to be reassuring after that. "Hn," he said, because that was nice and non-committal and didn't require any of that empathy business he was so very bad at. Really, Quatre was so much better at this.
Moist rubbed his hand down over his face, grunting a little to himself. He relented. If this was trying, then trying would have to be enough. It wasn't as if Heero knew enough about him to even be jealous.
"Thank you," he said sincerely. "I really do appreciate it."
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Moist blinked, all easy nonchalance and not at all someone whose bloodpressure had just jumped up a few notches and his bladder had just* exerted some amazing self control.
"Some weather we're having, eh?" he said, squinting out at the desert. "But you know what they say, if you can't stand the heat, get out of dry baked, desolate, killing wasteland."
*barely
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"Lovely place you've got, though," Moist said brightly, nodding back at the subterranean fortress. "I love what you've done with all the weapons."
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He cleared his throat, giving the other man an appraising look. "I wasn't explicitly aware that something may happen to me, that would need preventing."
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"Thank you," he said sincerely. "I really do appreciate it."
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