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As prison cells went, Nureyev’s current abode left much to be desired.
The walls were concrete, and as cold as the metal bunk he perched on. The cramped room had no other furnishings, beyond the utilitarian toilet and sink he was pointedly ignoring in the corner. There wasn't even a window to distract him from his plight.
It wasn’t the worst place he had ever been confined to of course. No that honour went to a crime lord on Pluto… or perhaps a xenoanthropologist on Mars. But even with that comparison in mind, Nureyev still found himself hard pressed to find anything endearing about his current predicament.
Miserable, he shivered, rubbing his arms to try and force some degree of warmth into them. The paper thing fabric of the dreadful orange jumpsuit he was wearing did nothing to ward off the chill. It felt like the cold had already seeped deep into his bones, settling in his joints and muscles. Creature comforts such as central heating were not high on the Neptunian penal system’s list of priorities, apparently.
A pity.
Nureyev hummed softly, filling the void like silence. The worst part of being in jail, he decided, wasn’t the cold or the discomfort, it was the boredom. It was a new feeling. He didn’t normally stay imprisoned long enough for it to set in. Usually as soon as the guards were gone, so was he.
But that was the thing about working with a team. There were protocols to be followed. Protocols such as what to do if one of them got caught.
With nothing but his own thoughts for company, Nureyev stretched out on the narrow cot, his feet left to dangle over the edge. He closed his eyes. It wasn’t often that one of the Carte Blanche heists could be labeled a failure, but Nureyev had no other description for what had transpired.
No, that wasn’t accurate: Unmitigated disaster was also an apt description. The plan had fallen apart so spectacularly that Nureyev didn’t even know if Vespa had made it out with the data drive they were trying to steal. It was a humiliating failure to say the least
In the distance, Nureyev heard the heavy tread of standard issue boots approaching. It should have been several hours before the guards came to check on him. Burglary wasn’t exactly high on their priority list after all. He looked up as the footsteps stopped in front of his cell, and what he saw was a sight for sore eyes indeed.
“Hey there, handsome.”
Leaning his forearm against the plexiglass of Nureyev’s cell door, Juno sounded far to pleased with himself. He was dressed in the same dark uniform as the other guards, with sharply tapered lines that straightened the back and broadened the shoulders. Under any other circumstances, Nureyev might have even found it attractive.
“Did someone call for a rescue?”
“That is quite enough out of you,” Nureyev snapped, painfully aware that he was never going to live this down. His only saving grace was that it was Juno who had come to his aid and not Jet, or even worse Vespa. Even the thought was more than he could tolerate. “I’m mortified enough as it is.”
“Yeah, I bet,” Juno chortled, insufferable as ever. “I can’t believe you got arrested on a glorified milk run.”
“I will have you know it was Vespa who triggered the alarm. My arrest was a necessary distraction for her to get away,” Nureyev said, desperately clinging to whatever remained of his pride. But he feared it was for naught as Juno’s grin grew wide enough to tug on his scars.
“Uh-huh, whatever you say, babe.”
“Do cease.” Nureyev sniffed. “Now, are you going to get me out of here? Confinement is ever so hard on my complexion.”
“Your complexion, right.” With a fond roll of his eyes, Juno swiped a glitter and sticker covered key-pass against the lock. The door to Nureyev’s cell swung open with a cheerful beep, leaving him free to take Juno’s outstretched hand. “come on, Man-o-Mine, Jet’s circling with the Ruby. He’ll meet us at the extraction point.”
“Oh Jet is here too? How lovely.”
“He volunteered.”
“Of course he did.” Would the days wonders ever cease?
At this rate, Nureyev would rather a lifetime sentence than face the embarrassment of returning to the Carte Blanche. Maybe there was still enough time for him to make his grand escape to somewhere very far from here. He could think of a few abandoned asteroids that would do the trick.
But then Juno’s warm calloused hand tightened in his own, soothing the raw edge of embarrassment. Nureyev’s heart did a flip in his chest, and he knew with devastating certainty that there was no other place in the galaxy that he’d rather be.
According to Juno’s watch, it was the wee hours of the morning. The prison was silent as they crept through the halls, broken only by the snores of Nureyev’s fellow inmates. There were guards of course, but the graveyard shift was run by a skeleton crew at the end of their day. They would be dead on their feet, and sluggish to react.
It was the ideal window to make an escape; perfect in its simplicity, but Nureyev had expected nothing less. Buddy Aurinko was good at many things; but jailbreaks were her speciality.
However, even the best laid plans could only ever lessen the probability of something going wrong. No amount of planning could ever offset the fickle gaze of lady luck.
“Uhhh… Mistah Steel?” Rita’s voice crackled through Nureyev’s newly restored comm. It was a piece of connection he hadn't expected he would miss so much after his own had been confiscated. “We’ve got a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” Juno asked, meeting Nureyev’s eye with a tight lipped expression.
Over the comm, Rita took a deep breath. “Okay so, the Laser ball game ended— with no overtime! Even though all the prediction sites SAID there was going to be overtime. Even that Cosmoctopus they got down at Olympus U said so! And that lil guy is always right. But not this time—“
“Cosmocto—what?! Rita slow down, what’s happening.”
“I already told ya! The game ended early,” Rita protested, as if that fact was made any clearer by its repetition. “So the guard in the security booth went back to work and started payin’ attention to the security feeds. Then he noticed the footage was looping in Mistah Ransom’s wing! He’s headed your way now.”
Juno swore, low and creative under his breath. His guard uniform should protect them from some degree of suspicion, but only if he was able to sell it. Nureyev’s detective was a smart lady, brilliant at many things, but acting was not one of them.
“Well, I rather suppose that’s our queue then,” Nureyev said, twisting his hand out of Juno’s in order to grab his wrist and pull them forward. The faster they found Jet and got out of here the better. “Rita dear, How much time do we have?”
“I dunno, but he’s movin’ awful fast!”
The answer to Nureyev’s question, it turned out, was no time at all.
They had barely turned the corner before coming face to face with the guard in question. His blaster was already out of its holster and pointed directly at them.
“Hey now,” Juno tried to soothe, one hand hovering over his own weapon. “We’re on the same team here, I’m just escorting the prisoner to medical, Warden’s orders.”
“Nice try asshole, but I ran your ID when I saw you on camera.” The guard growled, his face twisted in a trigger happy sneer. “Did you know that you retired five years ago?”
Nureyev’s stomach dropped. Using the profile of an ex-employee was a great way to fake credentials, it was a trick that he himself used quite often. But it was not without its risks.
“Yeah well, that’s the economy for you.” Juno, notably far too young to be a retiree, said with a what-can-you-do shrug. “Phone the warden if you want, but I really need to get this guy to his appointment.”
The guard flicked the safety from his blaster, pointing it at Nureyev. Juno pulled out his own. “Like hell you do!”
The crack of blaster fire filled the air.
Something slammed into Nureyev’s shoulder. Hard. Knocked off balance by the force of it, Nureyev spun, crashing to the floor.
He landed flat on his back, wheezing and dazed as the air fled his lungs. But it didn’t feel like a gunshot.
“Juno?”
Heaving himself up from the ground, Nureyev gasped for air that wouldn’t come. His head swam, grey dotting his vision from striking the floor. But he ignored it, desperate to find his partner. The air reeked, vinegary ozone overwhelming everything. His ratcheting heart beat slammed in his ears
“Juno!?”
“R-Ransom. You okay?”
Smoke curled from the barrel of Juno’s blaster. He stood over Nureyev with the protective fury of a goddess, one arm clamped tightly around his side. But he was still standing. Unlike the guard who lay unmoving on the ground, the shoulder of his uniform scorched by blaster fire.
“I’m fine. But what about you?” Heart hammering in his throat, Nureyev staggered to his feet. His side ached from hitting the ground -no- from being thrown to the ground he realised now. He hadn’t even seen Juno move. “Are you alright?”
Clutching his blaster in a bone-cracking grip, Juno didn’t answer. He didn’t react at all. Not until Nureyev caught the side of his cheek, urging the detective to look at him. “Juno! did he get you?”
“I’m fine, just a graze,” Juno said, clamping down tighter on his side as Nureyev tried to inspect the wound. Given Juno’s rather intense distaste for blood, Nureyev could hardly blame him that. The poor dear already looked rather green around the edges. But he was on his feet. That’s all that mattered.
“Thank the stars for that.” Nureyev said, the sudden crash of relief leaving him giddy in the aftermath. “For a horrifying moment, I feared the worse.”
“Yeah, me too,” Juno said, lowering his blaster with a tight lipped smile.“Can’t say the same for our friend here, though.”
“Well, not everyone can have your aim, my dear.” Crouching down next to the guard, Nureyev checked for his pulse. “Look’s like he will be out for a while yet. Lets get you out of here so Vespa can take a look at that graze of yours, hmmm?”
“Yeah…”
“I don't know about you, but the sooner we're off this stars forsaken planet, the happier I will be. My cell was absolutely freezing” Nureyev continued, a rather feeble attempt at distracting his partner. Minor or not, grazes hurt like nothing else. “Once we're back, I think I’ve earned a hot meal, a hot bath, and an even hotter man to share my bed.”
Maybe it wasn’t his best joke. But still, Nureyev expected a laugh, or even a smile. At the very least it should have earned him a dismayed groan. But instead, the joke fell completely flat, Juno’s attention lost somewhere to the distance.
“Juno?” Nureyev asked worriedly, reaching for his hand. “Are you sure you’re all right, dear?”
But Juno ignored him. Stepping just out of Nureyev’s reach, he tapped at his comm. “Hey big guy, what’s your ETA?
“I am here.” Jet’s voice rumbled in Nureyev’s ear. Despite his earlier reservations, he couldn’t deny the wave of relief that washed over him at the sound of the other man’s voice; a steadying presence capable of holding their crumbling plan together. “The loading bay is locked. But Rita has assured me that the key card she gave you will open it.”
“Right, okay. We’ll be there…” Juno trailed off mid sentence, like he had forgotten what he had intended to say. It was enough to make Nureyev pause, looking at him sharply. It was then he saw the sweat beading on Juno’s pinched brow. “We’ll b-be there in….”
“Juno?” Nureyev asked, relief twisting itself back into concern.
“I’m fine.”
The hand clamped around Juno’s side twitched, pressing tighter still. Something dark dripped from his finger onto the floor. Again, and again, and again; a puddle forming at his feet the longer they stood still.
“No.” Nureyev said cautiously, hand outstretched to offer help he wasn’t sure would be accepted. He knew achingly well just how reticent to help Juno became when he was hurting. “No, I don’t think you are.”
The dark fabric of Juno’s stolen uniform had done well to hide the damage. But now that Nureyev knew what to look for, he saw how wet it was, the edges burned away by blaster fire.
Inhaling sharply between his teeth, Juno peeled the arm away from his side. Perhaps he hadn’t been lying at all, thinking the injury had just been a graze. For Juno’s eye flew wide as he held out his palm, seemingly just as surprised as Nureyev to see it coated in dark red blood.
He started to sway. “Huh…”
“Juno!”
On instinct alone, Nureyev dove forward. He only just managed to catch Juno before the detective’s knees buckled. But even then, the weight was too much, and they both crumbled to the ground in a heap.
“Let me see,” Nureyev said, twisting out from the mess of limbs to heave Juno into his lap. He shoved at Juno’s jacket, struggling with the buttons to try and inspect the wound. Fear made his hands shake. “Love, please, you have to let me — damn.”
Nureyev could barely see Juno’s dark skin through all the blood. It was everywhere, bubbling from the raw edges of the blaster wound just beneath his ribs. It showed no signs of slowing.
“G-Guess it wasn’t a-a graze,” Juno mumbled, his faced tucked into the hallow of Nureyev’s neck to avoid looking down. He chocked on a groan as Nureyev clamped his hand over the wound, pressing down hard. “Shit!”
“It absolutely isn't a graze, you impossible idiot.” Nureyev snapped, putting as much pressure on it as he could. Beneath him, Juno squirmed, trying to twist away from the no doubt agonizing pain. But Nureyev didn’t relent, his fingers bathed in red. “Keep still1”
The police had confiscated Nureyev’s outfit when he had been arrested, taking with it the first aid kit and bandages he stored in his pockets. Instead all he had was the horrid orange jumpsuit he had been given, thin and well used. It would have to suffice.
Nureyev tore off the sleeve, the cheap fabric giving way with only the lightest tug. “Sorry, dear detective.” He murmured, folding the fabric as well as he could before replacing his hand with it. It was already starting to soak through. “We… we have to slow the bleeding.”
“Vespa’s going to kill me.” Lifting his head from Nureyev’s neck, Juno coughed, wet and heavy. Nureyev watched horrified as a trail of blood dribbled from his lips, coating his teeth. The shot must have hit something critical. But still Juno pushed on, every word punctuated by a wheeze. “She… she told me I wasn't allowed b-back in medbay for at least a month.
“Shh, don’t try and talk,” Nureyev tried to sooth, using his free hand to try and clean the blood from Juno’s chin. It smeared hopelessly. “Let’s get you out of here, hmmm? Jet isn’t far, and he has the Ruby 7. It’s the greatest getaway car in the galaxy. You’ll be alright, my love.”
Could Juno hear the fear that made Nureyev’s voice tremble? Could he feel the dread that clamped around Nureyev’s lungs like a vice? That unshakable sense that they were running out of time? Nureyev prayed he couldn’t.
“Jet!” Nureyev called into his comm. He held Juno tighter, stroking his cheek where the detective’s head rested heavily against his shoulder. “There’s been a change of plans. We need an evac now!”
“Understood,” Jet said without hesitation. Nureyev was grateful. He didn't know if he could have handled this turning into an argument. “Is there a message I should forward to Buddy.”
“Juno… he’ll need a medbay as soon as we’re back” Swallowing thickly, Nureyev could barely force the words out. “He’s been shot.”
There was a pause over the line, followed by the heavy tread of running boots. “I am headed to you now.
“Did you hear that?” Nureyev asked Juno, bordering on hysterical as blood from the bandage bubbled between his fingers. “Help is on the way. You just have to hold on a while longer, my love.”
“N-Nureyev…” Juno’s voice was a splinter when he whispered Nureyev’s name, his eye squeezed tight against the pain. “I…”
“Please, My Dear Detective, save your breathe,” Nureyev urged, his heart pounding in his ears. “For once, just listen to me alright?
“ I always liked it when you called me that,” Juno said. He lifted a trembling hand, reaching for Nureyev’s face, but it seemed to heavy to lift. Nureyev caught it in his own, kissing his palm. He swallow a sob at the taste of blood. “I… love you. Just wanted you to know… In case”
“Don’t you dare,” Nureyev hissed, pressing down harder on the wound. In his lap, Juno let out a pained hiss. “Don’t you dare say goodbye to me, Juno Steel. I won’t let you.”
“Sorry.” Juno’s words were barely more than a whisper now. He tucked his head into Nureyev’s neck, his shaking breath tickling against skin. “I’m aways leaving you, aren’t I?”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Nureyev said, eyes burning as tears started to roll down his cheeks. He pressed their foreheads together, never letting go of Juno’s side. “Nothing at all.”
“Mmm, you smell nice,” Juno mumbled, no longer following the train of conversation. A sappy smile flickered across his blood streaked face. “You always do… even on our first date…”
He trailed off, words tumbling together in a slurred mess. Nureyev pulled back, horrified as Juno’s chin fell to his chest, his glazed eye sliding closed.
“No, no, no. Stay awake, Juno!” Nureyev demanded, tapping his cheek. Gentle at first, but steadily more insistent when Juno didn’t respond to him. “Stay with me, love. Just a little while longer.”
“A-awake. Right,” Juno slurred, his brown eye opening just a sliver. But it as enough. “I-I want to stay with you.”
“Then stay,” Nureyev snarled. He looked widely around the room, desperate for Jet as his love slipped through his fingers. “Juno, please— NO!”
Juno lost the battle for consciousness, his arm falling limply from Nureyev’s grasp to rest at his side. “No, no,, no!”
Nureyev sobbed, clutching Juno’s slack body to his chest. His hand was shaking so badly he could barely check the Detective’s pulse. When he finally found it, thready and weak, but still beating, he sobbed harder. How much longer would it keep beating for? What happened if he… if he died?
What indeed.
A plan started to form in his mind, filling Nureyev with resolve. The chocking panic faded, replaced by resignation that froze what was left of his heart. How many years had he spent in the business of death? Helping to finance a way to reverse the inevitability that faced them all?
For decades, Dokana had kept Slip on life support, working on the technology to bring him back. What was one more bed, If Nureyev was willing to pay for it? After working with them for so long, surely they wouldn’t deny him this? Not if Nureyev was able to supply the creds needed to support both their care.
What did it matter that Nureyev spent nearly every waking moment staying on top of Slip’s payments. He would work harder. Take high paying jobs he’d normally pass off as too risky… Anything to make sure Juno didn’t die here.
He couldn’t die here.
Nureyev wouldn’t let him.
Nureyev buried his face in Juno’s hair. Sitting on the cold hard floor, his body shook. He felt numb, barely connected to the world around him. Distantly, he knew he should be paying attention more, that they were too exposed here. At any moment, another guard could appear and it would all be over.
But as soon as that thought appeared, it disappeared back into that static roaring in Nureyev’s ears. The only thing that mattered was the Lady in his arms, and ensuring Nureyev had another chance to say he loved him.
The answer was just a comm call away.
“Ransom.”
Nureyev jerked at the sound of his name, forced out of his spiralling thoughts back into reality. He hadn't even noticed Jet’s arrival, a fact he cursed himself for. But Jet didn’t comment on his obvious distraction, kneeling down in front of them.
Although he looked calm as ever, the large man was breathing hard, his tanned cheeks flushed red with exertion. Something wild danced in his steady gaze as he looked from Nureyev, to Juno, and back again, taking stock of the situation.
“You must give Juno to me.” Jet’s hand was heavy as it rested on Nureyev’s shoulder, the weight of it burning like a brand. “There is no time for me to argue with you.”
Words abounding him completely, Nureyev could only nod dully. He felt cold as Jet took Juno from him, hallowed out. He swallowed thickly, overwhelmed by the metallic scent of blood that clung to his clothes. His stomach churned.
With Juno held securely in his arms, Jet rose with a grunt of effort. “We are not far from the Ruby 7,” He said, moving swiftly in the direction Nureyev and Juno had been heading before they were interrupted. “It is just around this corner.”
“What?" Nureyev asked, confusion shaking away the remains of the static clinging to him. Solar prisons were all built using the same layout, one that he had memorised years and years ago. “There are no exits in this cell-block. Juno and I were headed to the loading bay.”
“The Ruby made one.” Came Jet’s cryptic answer.
They turned the corner, and Nureyev stopped in his tracks. There should have been a wall here, thick and impenetrable. But a hole had been blasted through it. No, not blasted, he realised in amazed disbelief, melted. There was no debris or rubble anywhere, instead the remains of the wall curled in on itself like macabre art. It had warped like cheap plastic left out in the mecurian sun… It was like nothing Nureyev had seen before. He couldn't even imagine what was capable of producing that much heat.
On the other side of the wall, the Ruby 7’s headlights shone like a beacon in the distance. It whistled urgently at them, engine revving as its doors opened.
“Vespa has already been notified of our arrival.” Jet said, carrying Juno to the car. “But we must hurry.”
In the lonely silence of the medbay, Nureyev stretched his back. His whole body ached, protesting the long hours he had spent hunched in the uncomfortable chair by Juno’s bed. But he refused to move, unwilling to leave his partners side for even the length of time it would take to stretch some life into his limbs.
Dressed in a medical gown, and surrounded by more medical equipment than Nureyev could name, Juno had never looked so small. Vespa had done her best to repair the worst of the blaster’s damage, working for hours without rest. But Nureyev could tell from the tightness around her eyes and mouth that Juno still had a tough fight left in front of him.
Teeth torn lips pressed into a bloodless line, Nureyev shuddered. He couldn’t bare the thought of losing him. Not now. Not like this
It had been nearly two days since Juno had come to rescue him from that prison. Two days of sitting and waiting to see if he would wake up. Nureyev had only left his side long enough to change out of his stained jumpsuit, have a shower and scrub Juno’s blood from under his nails.
Even though his hands were spotless to the point of raw, Nureyev's fingers still itched with the phantom feel of it caking them.
Taking off his glasses, Nureyev rubbed at eyes burning with exhaustion. Rita had gone back to her room hours ago, ordered by Buddy to get some sleep. But Nureyev had ignored the same order, waving off her concern and empty platitudes in equal measures. It wasn’t her help he needed right now.
On the table at his elbow, sat his comm. It wasn’t the one Ransom used, with its purple case and the fox shaped charm Rita had gifted him. No, this one small, black and nondescript. A burner device that rarely left the safety of his room.
He reached for it now, cradling the comm in his hands. Juno was stable for now, past the point of needing Dokana’s unique care. But still, Nureyev couldn’t bring himself to put the comm back. Not yet. Not when Vespa still looked so stressed, checking Juno's vitals every hour. There was still a chance he might take a turn for the worse.
Nureyev’s fist curled around the comm, its plastic case digging into the meat of his palm. The thought was terrifying. Almost as terrifying as the mental image of Slip and Juno lying in identical beds in Dokana’s research facility, waiting for Nureyev to finally pay enough to bring them back.
After so long on his own, Nureyev could barely remember what Slip’s voice sounded like. But that was what drove him forward, the knowledge that one day he’d get to hear someone call him Petya again. Just like he’d get to hear Juno call him Nureyev once more.
He didn’t care what it cost.
“I miss you.” Nureyev whispered, barely audible over the constant drone of the medical equipment helping to keep Juno alive. He reached for Juno’s hand, limp on the bed, and squeezed it gently. “ Won’t you please wakeup for me?”
Nureyev titled his head back, blinking back tears as Juno didn’t respond. He always knew that their time together came with a time limit. That one day, Nureyev would have to leave all of this behind. But it wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to have a year together. Nureyev needed more time.
He pressed Juno’s hand to his lips, and then to his forehead. Something inside Nureyev cracked, a sob bubbling unchecked to the surface. “Juno, please.” He said, face damp with dears. “I-I don’t know if I can do this without you. I—“
The hand that Nureyev clutched so desperately twitched in his grasp. At first Nureyev thought he had imagined it, until finally, Juno squeezed his hand back. It was weak, barely more than a hint of pressure, but it as enough.
He scrambled to his feet, shoving the comm deep into his pocket.
“Juno?” He asked, a smile splitting his tear stained face as his Detective’s brow furrowed. Nureyev pressed a hand to his cheek, stroking the pillow creased skin with his thumb. “Are you with me, my love?”
“Mmm, Sorta.” Juno rasped without opening his eye. Smacking his lips together, he leaned into Nureyev’s touch. “R-Ransom?”
“I’m here, dear detective. It’s just me.” Nureyev said with a watery chuckle, kissing his forehead. “I’m so glad you’re alright. Can you open your eye for me?”
With a soft groan, Juno did as he was instructed. Nureyev’s heart felt like it might float to the ceiling at the sight of the warm brown iris staring back at him.
“Shit… “Juno mumbled, the scar on his nose crinkling in pain killer-muddled thought, “I-I got shot, didn’t I?”
“That you did.”
“Great.” With a grunt of effort, Juno shifted on the bed. He probed his side with gentle fingers, searching for the injury. But Nureyev caught his hand before he could interfere with Vespa’s carefully placed stitches.
“Careful,” He said, guiding Juno’s hand to rest on his chest once more. He paused, clearing his throat to stop it from cracking under the weight of his emotions. “It… was touch and go for a while there. But Vespa is quite the miracle worker.”
“She’s a good doctor,” Juno said before wincing. “Ugh, I feel like crap. I can’t remember the last time I got shot, this sucks.”
Nureyev had meant to laugh. but the choked sound that escaped him could only be defined as sob. Embarrassed, he wiped at his cheeks, trying to erase the evidence. But it was too late.
“Nureyev…” he murmured, holding an open palm out on the bed. Nureyev snatched it instantly. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, my love.” Nureyev said with his most convincing smile. “You’re finally awake, how could I not be?”
“Liar,” Juno accused, lacing there fingers together. Nureyev didn’t even know why he tried. The lady on the bed had always been able to see right through him. “I know how much it sucks… watching someone take a hit like that. c’mere"
Shuffling to the side, Juno made room on the narrow bed. He patted the empty space next to him, staring up at Nureyev expectantly. But still Nureyev hesitated, worried that he might interfere with something important or hurt Juno by accident.
“Nureyev…” Nobody said his name quite like Juno did; Like he was actually someone worth worrying about. “I know you haven’t slept babe, there isn’t a concealer in the world that could cover those bags.”
With an affronted gasp that earned him a laugh, Nureyev pressed his fingers under his eyes. “You take that back!”
“Only if you get into bed with me.” Juno answered, tongue pressed in his cheek. But even that much excitement seemed to be too much as he sagged back into the pillows, looking drained. “Please?”
With a put upon sigh, Nureyev climbed carefully onto the narrow mattress. It was a tight fit, the bed not designed to support two grown men. But they did their best. Juno slotted himself under Nureyev’s arm with a single minded determination, tangling their legs together.
This close together, Nureyev could feel the steady rise and fall of Juno’s chest, the warmth of his skin, the trickle of his breath. He let himself relax into the bed, curling an arm more securely around Juno’s shoulder to hold him close
“I’m okay, Nureyev,” Juno said, his voice gentle as the weight of his head on Nureyev’s chest. “I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you say you want me gone.”
Nureyev hummed softly. As the terror of the last few days seeped away, he closed his eyes, exhaustion threatening to carry him down it its embrace. He wanted to fight it, to make the most of this quiet moment before Vespa made her rounds and the others woke up. To cherish every stolen second he had left with the impossible, wondrous lady in his arms.
But it was an impossible battle. The last thing Nureyev remembered was the feeling of chapped lips against his cheek, the bed creaking as Juno fumbled for the blankets… and the weight of a black comm in his pocket, digging into his hip as he drifted into sleep.