every ship is equal, and no one is more powerful than the sea.

[derogatory]

FIVE THINGS MEME

HOW TO PLAY
- Give me as many "five things" prompt for any characters or fandom that you know I'm into
- I will try to write it
- no promises.


COMPLETE
five moments of gay panic for victor
four times victor missed nathan before finding him again (and one time he really didn't)
five disastrous toasts from victor and nathan's big gay wedding
five things about avenger victor and supervillain karolina
five times chase and victor were not friends
five ways victor's bad end could've gone
four successful missions nathan and victor went on (and one that could have gone a lot better)
five moments inside the mentor's lounge
five times victor regretted letting nathan move in

Comments

[derogatory]

iv.
Karolina’s diplomatic mission with the Badoon went south, really south, and there’s been radio silence for just long enough Victor is willing to take Chase up on the offer to get extremely drunk.

“No boyfriends allowed, though,” he adds, shooting Nathan a sullen glare over Vic’s shoulder. Nathan tosses his hands up, leaning back at his own desk- they’ve been grounded on desk duty until Tony gets back from space.

“What a shame,” he bemoans. “I was looking forward to meeting your new boy toy.”

Chase has to pick the most dive bar he can find, because far be it for them to be grieving and safe, no they have to put their lives in danger between pints too.

“You called it a pint again,” Chase smirks and Victor burns red to his ears, no you imagined it, you’re drunk, Stienburger.

“It’s not fair!” Chase laments, three shots in. “She never called me from space! Well, I mean, yeah, she did sometimes. But she called you more.” Victor picks at the corner of the bottle’s label, an absent shrug. Chase rolls his eyes, “Guess if I’d been a gay too, I’d have got that honor.”

“She didn’t call me about gay stuff,” Victor counters, adding reluctantly under Chase’s unfocused but skeptical stare. “Not all the time. She probably thought you don’t like talking on the phone.”

“Who likes talking on the phone!” he moans.

“I like it,” Victor replies, processes slightly dulled enough to not fully think through that comment. He cringes, twisting on the barstool, adding hurriedly, “I don’t hate it.”

Chase grins around the neck of his bottle, “That in your programming?”

“Yeah,” he replies, sarcasm dripping. “I’m programmed to be fine with long phone conversations, it was probably something my mom put in so I’d always remember to call.”

“Smart lady,” Chase rolls his eyes, knocking back the rest of the drink in a fluid tip of his wrist. He slams the bottle down beside the fair collection he’s already amassed between them. “God this sucks.”

“I know,” Victor groans, scrubbing a hand over his eyes, trying not to think about where Karolina could be, what prison the last of the Majesdanians is languishing in.

“Nah, I mean drinking with you,” Chase counters, knocking shoulders with the other man. “You keep nursing that beer. Shouldn’t you be doing non-stop tequila shots or something.” That’s a hell of a stereotype, Victor says but Chase is already leaning over the bar to grab a bottle of José, keep a look out, cryborg.






( Victor staggers past, almost eating it when he leans down to kiss Nathan as he passes to clear the guest room. No way Chase is going to flag a cab home, he argues petulantly when Nathan points out that Chase is a dick and they don’t invite dicks to sleepover- not figurative ones anyway.

“He’ll just take a cab to another bar and probably die,” Victor slurs in that know-it-all tone, like being an expert on how Chase operates while intoxicated is anything to be proud of. He staggers down the hall, out of sight.

Nathan fixes an unsteady on his feet Chase with a firm stare. He’s just about to lay down some ground rules regarding puking when the Runaway cuts in,

“I get it, I’m shit,” he hisses, tugging his hair, eyes locked on the ceiling. “You don’t like me cause I’m fucked up through and through. But I’m not the worst thing to happen to our team, believe it or not.” Nathan protests that he dislikes Chase because he’s an asshole, and if you are motherfucking gonna say Vic is-- “No, idiot. Alex.” Chase fixes a squint at the other guy, “You dunno-- ‘Course you don’t, Small Wonder wasn’t there yet. Okay. Okay, well how about this.” Nathan groans audibly, but Chase pushes on with the Runaways recollection hour. “Alex was our friend and he sold us out to our parents. He tried to kill us because we didn’t wanna be crime lords too so we drowned him.” Nathan’s eyes open, he’d been trying to drown out the drone of Chase’s story, but that last piece is hard to miss. He glances to Chase from the corner of his eye, head resting against the back of the couch.

“You ever drowned?” Chase asks, arms folded tight over his chest. A small, tight nod. “Yeah. You’re not the only team that did shit to protect ourselves. But Not Vic.” Nathan leans forward, watching Chase try and say something nice about a guy is a little like watching Nico try to pay someone a compliment, like a dog walking on it's hind legs. “For being a future doombot he’s the only one who never- wait, when did we kill that DJ? Hold up, I think Vic was there-” Annnnnd then it's over.

“Okay, time for bed,” Nathan shakes his head, easing onto his feet and guiding Chase by his elbow into the guest room, handing him over to Victor, who’s already half asleep on the guestbed.

“You can’t both sleep here,” Nathan orders, dumping Chase to the bed and trying to coax the cyborg back onto his feet. He gives up after a few unsuccessful tries, throwing his hands in the air because, fine! But if Vic turns you gay don’t say I didn’t warn you.

“I won’t,” Victor assures him with such serious expression Chase laughs until he wheezes. )






“You are a good guy,” Chase mumbles after he’s calmed down and then Victor laughs, yeah right. “No, I mean it, you’re a good guy.” There’s enough booze between them to put down Tony on even his worst days, so Victor hesitates, not one hundred percent sure he heard properly. “You are, Vic. I really believe that. You’re a good fucking guy.”

Propped up on his elbows, Victor smiles, slow and sloppy and agrees, “Yeah, you’re a good guy too, Chase.” Chase’s friendly hold around him is like play-fighting with a wild animal, a snap of its jaws away from taking the game too far.

Chase bumps their foreheads together, voice throaty when he adds, “Until you’re not.”