Steve & Paul (Backdated to January 19th)

[om_apollo]

Paul finds Steve working out with an injured wrist, and they completely fail to understand each other

Sparring with Midnighter - fighting or not - couldn't take up all of Paul's time, but he was still wary of flying alone at night. Daylight was great, and he hadn't found a limit on his energy overnight yet, but there had to be limits to it if he wasn't constantly getting topped up with sun. Finding those limits was why he was heading to the gym alone, pushing the door open with his shoulder - and stopping just inside when it wasn't empty. "Shit, sorry, I'll come back later."

There wasn't a whole lot Steve could do with a bad wrist, he'd found. And that included everyday things, much to his own chagrin. At least he was pretty sure he wasn't going to make a stupid mistake next time. And maybe next time he'd take advantage of the instant healing. He'd come to the gym with the intention of doing something and that thing had ended up being one of the few things he could think of to do: the exercise bike. Even that wasn't quite what the designers of the machine had probably intended because he couldn't lean down over the bike because that would put pressure of his wrist. Instead, he was sitting more upright with his good hand on the bike and his bad hand pressed up against his chest.

What Paul had probably noticed first was the sound of an audio book coming from the phone sitting on the console. A professorly-like voice was discussing the history of the Buddhist religion. He fumbled with the phone when he heard the phone and dropped it, the soft drone still coming from the speaker.

"Hey, no," he called back. "Just let me..." He stared down at the phone accusingly and started maneuvering to get off the bike.

"Didn't mean to interrupt." Paul stayed by the door, wary. Generally anyone in the gym alone wanted to be alone, not interrupted by anyone else coming in, especially anyone they didn't know well, and although he was aware of who Steve was, Paul wouldn't exactly call him a friend. "You okay there? Need a hand?"

"No, it's totally fine," Steve said about the interruption part. He stared down at the phone and then glanced back to Paul. "Would you mind?" He laughed. "I was trying to turn it off for you. This is what happens when I try to teach myself a lesson." He gestured with his bad wrist. "I prove myself a bit of an idiot."

"Don't mind at all," Paul said, moving in closer. "You need a hand turning it off, or getting off the bike so you can turn it off yourself?" Either worked, or he'd shut up and let it keep running. No big deal. Maybe he'd go flying instead. Night flying was still unfamiliar and unfamiliar meant he needed practise.

"Nah. As long as I get it, I can turn it off. Nice thing about cell phones is that they're pretty much designed to be used one-handed. I just didn't want to bother you. Doubt you want to listen to a lecture on religion while you're trying to work out." He might not, either, but he wasn't really considering it a lecture. More something he was interested in. Something that was resonating with him.

Paul shrugged, crossing the room to crouch down, reaching for the phone. "Honestly, I don't mind, as long as you're okay with someone else in here. Need to learn to stay alert to my surroundings with distractions going on, anyway." And the steady sound of a voice giving a lecture at a measured pace wasn't even a challenging distraction. "What happened to your wrist?"

Steve glanced down at it. "Fell wrong during training. I could have had it healed, I guess, but I wanted a reminder to not make stupid mistakes again. Better now than when it's really important, right?"

"How do you know when it's gonna get really important?" Standing up, Paul offered the phone over. "I mean, I get it, but squad and stuff, right?"

"Well, if I made the mistake again because I thought 'oh, sure, I can get this healed' and I'm in a situation where I can't get it healed," Steve explained.

Paul cocked his head, still holding Steve's phone out to him. "Doesn't sound like a great reason to not get it healed when you're in a situation that you can."

Steve nodded and took the phone. "I guess it's two different ways of thinking about it. I guess I don't want to forget that a mistake can get me hurt." And if he could get it healed right away, it was more of an inconvenience than real consequences.

"Yeah, I guess." Paul shrugged, hands sliding into his pockets. "But there are other things that can do that, still, right? Things that the healers can't deal with?"

"Probably. But if I screw up that badly, I'll probably get kicked off the squad." And rightly so. "Better to learn the lesson on something that'll heal sooner, I guess."

Mystified, Paul shook his head and shrugged again. "I don't get it. What if something happens and you need to, like, not be injured?" Which could happen any time, without warning.

"Then I go get healed. I'm not looking to make a point at the expense of other people. Just to myself. It's kind of.." Steve shrugged. "The closest example I can come up with is children and fire. We all learn to not touch something that's burning because either our parents drill it into us or, more likely, we touch something that's really hot and get burned."

"I never got burned," Paul admitted cheerfully, heading over to the resistance machines and settling into the seat of the chest press. "So I guess I never learned that."

Steve chuckled. "Frozen?" he suggested. "Never stuck your tongue to a metal pole?" Okay, he'd never done that, either, but he knew the movie.

"Is that a thing that actually happens?" Paul tilted his head, reaching down to adjust the weights. "Not just an urban myth?"

"I'm not sure. I'm pretty sure it's real. There are some things that you just don't want to try for yourself." He'd never wanted to be teased by his sister if it had been real.

"I guess maybe YouTube could tell us." Not in the gym, though. Paul leaned back, settling his forearms against the pads. "I get what you're saying, though. Lessons learned and reinforced and all that stuff."

"YouTube tells us everything," Steve said with a nod, a hint of a grin on his face. Of course, everything really did mean everything, including a lot of things that were wrong. But there was good stuff in there, too.

Paul made a face. "Sometimes it tells us things we don't want to know. I mean, does anyone actually care what the fox says?"

"The fox?" Steve repeated, wondering what depraved part of the internet that was.

"It's a video thing," Paul explained. "Like a song, sort of? Uh, do you know Angie?"

Steve thought of his sister, of Claudia. They'd been music people. He only knew that he liked to listen. "No, I don't."

Fair enough, not everyone did. Paul nodded, starting a slow, steady rhythm, not quite letting the pads touch before easing them back again. "YouTube, then. Angie showed me, but if you search for what did the fox say, you'll find it. Trust me, there's no way I can actually describe it."

"Right," Steve said with a curious look. Foxes. Great, now he was intrigued. He glanced at his phone. "Well, thanks for the help."

Paul laughed. "I'm not sure I helped much, but I guess you're welcome. Just shout up if you need a hand with anything else, yeah?"

"You saved me from squirming around trying to get off this thing while holding my phone," Steve pointed out with a grin. "And yeah, thanks."