Foreign Territory (Active Duty #2)

Take Shelter

"I know you're probably just out of Afghanistan or whatever, but I got a kid, yeah?" She popped her chewing gum and nodded to the sprog still screaming for a pre meal time snack. "Stop the cussing."

"Go fuck yourself." Jason sniffed, and turned back to face front.

Robin held up a hand behind him, surrendering to the enemy. "Leave it. He's sorry. I'm sorry. We're off at the next stop." He shoved Jason's arm.

Huffing, Jason clambered out of the seat and Robin shoved him further, grabbing the bags from the foot well. Once near the exit doors, Jason gripped the pole before he could land on some elderly gent to offer him lap dance.

"Thought you said it was at least ten stops." Jason huffed, snatching one of the bags from Robin and slinging it over his shoulder.

"It is. But you keep going the way you are, we'll be chucked off the bus anyway."

Jason shot a glance back to the scowling mother. If only she fucking knew. He nudged his head in her general direction, not bothering to lower his voice. "What's her beef?"

"You swore in front of her kid, then to her face."

"They not swear in Surrey? You Home County peeps all above that are ya? 'Cause I know you can scream a four letter beaut on certain occasions."

Robin chose to ignore that. And, in Jason's mind, it was a good job. 'Cause he was clearly in the mood for a fight, and Robin was on the wrong side for once. Turned out, Robin had learned a lot over the year's deployment and not all of it how to diffuse real ticking time bombs. Much of it was how to ignore Jason's ones.

"Sorry." Jason's fingernails received that apology.

"That's the fourth time now." Robin gripped the straps of his bag, his knuckles turning white. "Next time, say it to my face or don't bother saying it at all."

Jason slapped a hand to his thigh, gripping the pole tighter that his own knuckles faded of colour only to make the scrapes covering them more prominent. He shook his hand out, then rubbed those knuckles along Robin's cheek. Robin's dark stubble raged against the cuts, but the warmth exuding from his skin overrode the prickly sting. He then curled a finger under Robin's chin, sliding his thumb nail across the scar below Robin's bottom lip and dipped his head to meet with Robin's gaze.

"I'm sorry." Jason made sure to enunciate each syllable. It was only polite.

Robin drew in a breath, his dark eyes meeting Jason's. Jason smiled and rubbed his thumb tip along the plump cushions of Robin's trembling lips. Thinking it was probably about time, he didn't bother to check his surroundings before mouthing a few more words.

Robin widened his eyes, his eyebrows almost reaching the roof of the bus. Jason snorted, clutching the pole above his head just in time for the bus to jerk into another stop. Robin may well be catching flies with that gaping mouth.

"I could put something bigger in there, you want?" Jason flicked Robin's bottom lip with his finger.

Robin shook himself out, furrowing his brow. "You say that, now? Here!" He flapped a frustrated hand and gritted his teeth. "On a fucking bus!"

"Tut, tut, Private." Jason pointed a finger to the other passengers on board. "We have children present. Child friendly language, please."

"You, Sergeant Williams, are an absolute fucking wanker!" Robin finished off the delightful returning prose by punching Jason on the arm. Hard. And it fucking hurt.

Jason cackled, doing his best not to rub at the sore spot. This. This was a better way to get his mind off things.

Slapping a palm on the bell, Robin turned his back on Jason and adjusted the bag on his shoulder. "And don't think for one second I don't know the game you're playing, either." He shot a narrowed stare over his shoulder.