Chapter Text
Church was taking a rest in the base. It was an extra hot day. He was glad the Red team hadn't yet done anything spectacularly stupid, so he could rest from fixing their communication issues with Command. The problem was Tucker. He was extra tired but the younger soldier didn't seem to care or notice. Currently, he was rambling on about something, and Church already felt a headache coming on.
"Are you even listening?" Tucker said accusingly and looked up from cleaning his sword. He was sitting on his bed with full armor on, but his hands were bare, so he could better manipulate the weapon.
"What!" Church grunted loudly, resting his head against the wall as he sat on the ground, toying with the tools. He was pretty much done with fixing anything today. He hoped Lopez could already self repair, so he didn't have to fix anything anymore, for a long time, yeah for a really long time.
Church couldn’t obviously see Tucker’s grin, though come to think of it, Church didn't even know how the guy looked like, but he could guess that Tucker was immaturely probably rolling his eyes right about now and smirking about his lame fantasies.
"I said, don't you think the girls will love my new, slick, pajama pants, you know, my sexy pants I got, like last week in the store?"
Church growled a little and closed his eyes.
"What? I swear to god Tucker, I will hurt you; so shut the fuck up already about whatever the fuck you have been talking about for the last god damn hour."
Tucker stopped working on his sword and looked in his direction.
"I'm talking about girls. Are you losing it man? How can you not want to talk about girls?"
Tucker shook his head and went back to cleaning.
Church sighted and stood up. He was going to bake in his armor, unless he took it off.
He started out on taking his armored gloves off and throwing them on the ground before he grasped the back of his helmet and pulled on it.
The sound of the helmet opening seemed to make Tucker look up. It was a rare thing when they had their helmets off though perhaps that was kinda normal on account that they basically ate, slept and died with their armor on. That was the life of an elite marine soldier.
Church ran his hand through his black hair, which was shaved off on the sides. He could somehow feel Tucker's eyes on him; somehow he could when the younger man was paying him attention. Not like he gave a fuck.
He sighted quietly and took the rest of his armor off. The air was so still that if he closed his eyes, he wouldn’t notice if he was actually inside a tank.
The armor fell loudly as he carelessly dropped it to the floor.
Walking across the room in his all black jumpsuit, he carelessly glanced up at Tucker, who was pretty aggressively cleaning his sword now as if he wanted to break it.
He stopped in the middle of their shared room and stared.
"You're going to break it if you keep pushing on it like that," he said flatly, but when Tucker didn't comment, he sighted and walked over towards his bed to retrieve his bag.
Tucker’s helmet turned towards Church.
"Bow chicka bow wow", he said suddenly, and Church grunted under his nose, as he zipped up his bag and lifted it up onto his shoulders.
He scratched his head and a small smile formed at the side of his lips.
"Okay, yeah Tucker, funny. Now, listen. I am tired as hell, but it's too damn hot around here, so I'm going to make a damn pool, and whether you like it or not, you're going to help me build it."
Church’s muscles stretched as he adjusted his bag on his shoulders.
“Ah Tucker? Not that I don’t mind the sudden silence, but did you die in there?” Church asked and he sounded amused.
"No, um, that ah, that's actually an awesome idea. Yeah, man, we can definitely pick up some chicks if we have a pool."