[Milliways]

[2goodarms]

[From here.]

If he were back on the train, he'd go to his bunk, shove the curtain closed, and stay there for as long as possible until the swirl of emotions died down. After that first month, Curtis always figured it was better to isolate himself than risk lashing out at the rest of the tail.

Too bad he's not on the train anymore.

As Edgar heads back out to the stables -- giving Curtis space like most people did when he got angry, and fuck if that doesn't feel like winning his way through a tantrum, too, god -- and he and Dejah head up to the gym, Curtis gets to work wiggling open the jar of salve. He can't quite get the proper leverage with just one hand, even with the jar pressed between his stump and his side; gritting his teeth, he labors on with grim determination.

Comments

[2goodarms]

"...Oh," he breathes. His eyes have gone a little wider; his hand drifts to a stop by her shoulder, fingers winding in the ends of her hair.

Except:

"Just sleeping?"

[dejah_thoris]

He can feel her soft laugh more than hear it. She dips down to steal another soft kiss.

"Torture, I know. But yes. Just sleeping."

[2goodarms]

He returns the kiss, but doesn't lean into it the same way as before. When they part, Curtis keeps blinking up at her, forehead creasing in thought.

Maybe the hammock would be best. It's not like it'd be impossible in a hammock, but it'd certainly be more difficult than Dejah's bed. But his veins still hum like a static shock; he wants to sink into the heat of her, now more than ever, watch the way her body and her face move when he --

Yeah this is a terrible idea.

He shakes his head, even as he smooths his hand over her hair. Apologetic, "I don't think I can leave it there."

[dejah_thoris]

She feels the tension moving in his body, the heat moving under his skin. She feels his breath tighten and knows what he's going to say before he even opens his mouth.   And worse, she knows he's right.

She leans into his touch, drops her head down again, resting temple to temple with him.  Her whole body presses closer to him, and her heel strokes down the back of his calf.

"All right."  She sounds apologetic as well.  Her grip on him tightens, as if she could hold onto these moments even as they slip through her fingers.

[2goodarms]

He cradles the back of her head, breathing in the scent of her. Soon, his arm slides down to wrap her shoulders in a firm embrace.

"Another time," he whispers in her ear, and kisses her temple.

Another time when they don't have to stop. When she's finally comfortable enough to keep going.

[dejah_thoris]

"I promise, I will make it up to you."

If they make it that far. Please, sweet holy mother, let them make it that far.

[2goodarms]

"It's fine," he's quick to say. "It's okay."

This isn't even close to the worst frustration he's endured. And with their relationship rapidly turning into something Curtis doesn't want to fuck up -- he can wait a little longer.

[dejah_thoris]

Her head bobs, a quick little nod. She pulls back and steals another hungry, almost desperate kiss. In her life, she's learned to take nothing for granted, and his forbearance in this -- it means the world to her.

[2goodarms]

And this time, he meets the kiss with equal ferocity, like their dance in microcosm -- pulling her in, his hand back in her hair, trying to say without words I know, and I will still be here, and it will be so good when it happens. If he can't give her a night where they just fall asleep together, at least he can give her this as a parting gift.

They break at last, Curtis gasping in another breath, which soon slides into an almost-silent laugh.

[dejah_thoris]

She's smiling when they break, but her eyes are wet. She touches her nose to his one last time. She has to force her hands to uncurl, force herself to put some air between them.

She keeps hold of his hand the whole while, using it to help him as he rises.

"Tomorrow, then?"

[2goodarms]

"Tomorrow," he murmurs. Once he's on his feet, Curtis brings their hands to his lips so he can kiss Dejah's fingertips. "Thanks for all this."

The talk. The sparring match. The easy intimacy, the comfort he so rarely finds.

[dejah_thoris]

She draws closer, rests her brow against his. This candid display of affection from him is doing her head in a little. Her forehead creases as she grapples with the implications.

"It is my pleasure and my honor," she answers. A moment later, she gently frees one hand and retrieves his hat from where she's tucked it into her pocket.

She has to use two hands to get it situated, but once she does, she places it back on his head. Gently, almost reverently, she mimics his own motions to shift it into its proper place. As if she could right all the wrongs, wipe away all the injustice and horror, as if this one small touch could, by some miracle, heal something in him.

"There will come a day when you'll have to field one of my legendary foul moods. I would apologize in advance but that would be like apologizing for the wind."

[2goodarms]

Sometimes, Dejah reads him so well that it's like he drank the Voice of Barsoom already. She knows when to be fierce, when he needs to fight; and then she falls back into this uncanny gentleness, like he's as precious as an old family photograph, and he can't help but soak it up.

He gives her a lopsided smile as she finishes smoothing his hat into place. "I can handle it," he says.

[dejah_thoris]

"Of that, I have no doubt." She takes his face between her palms and kisses him, soft and sweet. "Now go. Make your peace with Edgar. And be nice to Nitwit. They may not be the most intelligent creatures, but thoats have long memories. And they get very, very big."

Maybe someday, he'll be in a position to offer her the sanctuary she so desperately craves. Maybe someday, he can be strong for her.

[2goodarms]

Curtis hums into the kiss, very softly.

"Yeah, I'm definitely more worried about the big Barsoomian horse-thing than Edgar," he deadpans. He sneaks one last kiss on Dejah's cheek. "See you tomorrow."

Retrieving his staff from the floor, he returns it to its spot on the rack before heading out.