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blue-mood-blue · 4 years

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They tell him that his name is Benzaiten Steel.

They tell him that he’s been shot.

Officially, publicly, his condition is unknown - they haven’t released any details yet, pending the investigation. As he understands it, the investigation amounts to his mother and brother pointing to each other in accusation, both of them held in separate interview rooms of the HCPD while Ben lays in his hospital bed. They were hoping he could give them answers, Ben realizes when the doctor and the officer both hover around his door uncertainly before turning to go.

But Ben doesn’t remember anything. He can’t tell them if his brother in law enforcement went corrupt or if his mentally ill mother finally slipped too far. If it was an argument, or an accident, or which of his incredibly small family is more likely to lie. He wouldn’t have been able to tell them his name if they hadn’t told him first, because Ben hardly remembers anything at all.

It’s the head injury, the nurse tells him at two in the morning while she gives him more pain medication. Not from the blast, which had caught him in the shoulder and was more than enough damage to a body on its own, according to her. He must have hit his head on something on the way down, gave himself a nasty bump and some swelling. Nothing to worry about too much, she added quickly after getting a good glance at Ben’s expression. Just... just the memories might not come back. Hard to tell with these things.

Ben chews over the possibility after she leaves, slipping in and out of sleep. He should want to know, right? He should be searching for those memories, and the way he fit between them. He should be looking for himself... looking for the truth.

There are two people in his family. One of them shot him. He can’t imagine a truth there that wouldn’t tear him in two anyway.

Ben takes a moment to pity whoever it was he used to be - must’ve had a sad life, in the middle of that mess. Couldn’t possibly have been happy, in that little apartment in Oldtown, no one to call or contact besides the people led away in handcuffs. Such a small, tiring existence... didn’t he feel stifled, trapped? He does now. He thinks about going back to that, and he can’t breathe.

Ben looks at the window instead. He can make out some stars, but only a few - it’s hard to see much around the light pollution and the dome. He doesn’t remember, but logic tells him he hasn’t lived the kind of life that’s ever taken him off of Mars; he’s never seen any of those stars, or the planets around them, or their moons - not really. He thinks he might like to, and it’s almost a surprise when the thought comes to him; it’s as if his mind has been cleared of some dome hemming him in, holding him in place, and now there’s room to want. Ben feels untethered, adrift... free. Free in a way he knows, somehow, he’s never been before.

It’s a heady feeling. For the first time since waking, Ben smiles. He could be free. He could reach up to those stars and never come back down.

Benzaiten Steel might not remember anything about himself, but he learns that he’s a good actor. When the officer comes back with more questions, Ben tells them he’s afraid for his life, more afraid because he doesn’t know who or what to fear. “Be honest,” he asks, voice shaking with something (not fear, but the officer doesn’t know that). “Do you think this could happen again? Am I really safe?”

Benzaiten Steel is declared dead, and Ben boards a ship.

~~~

He still calls himself Ben; everything else, he cuts away and leaves behind as deadweight. He’s Ben Nothing, Ben Nobody, and he runs between the stars like there’s something chasing him. He finds work where he can, and he finds that the most lucrative work is the illegal kind. He finds that he’s good at it, charming people with a smile or disarming them with a few tears, and then liberating them from whatever they have in their pocket, or safe, or bank account.

Ben is happy. Ben is competent, secure, well-liked in the circles he moves through. Ben is as free as he ever wanted to be, in this life or any other. And if he feels like something unnamed is breathing down his neck some days, well, he is a thief, isn’t he? There’s always someone after him, law enforcement on several planets at least. If he avoids Mars and anywhere too close to that little, red planet, it’s his own business. There’s not much on Mars, anyway; only the Cerberus Province and the connections he could make there, and it’s a small sacrifice to make for all of the things he gets to see.

Ben isn’t lonely. He just feels a little adrift sometimes.

And it’s years before anything catches him.

He has a jewel that toppled a dynasty with the conflict it caused hidden in his pocket, and he slips into a dark, mostly empty theater to wait out the afternoon and the authorities. He already has a spot waiting for him on a ship traveling several planets away, but it won’t take off for hours. He has plenty of time.

Ben pulls out his comms to waste some hours, ignoring the movie playing on the screen; a kids’ movie, probably with the hope that whole families would make the effort of taking a trip to the theater to spend time together. It was a bad gamble, with the only person there other than Ben asleep in a chair in the corner. Ben snorts; kind of a stupid thought, that anyone would bother when they could stream whatever old movies they wanted directly to their home.

He’s in the middle of a game when he looks up at the screen. There’s a woman fighting a dragon, and he isn’t sure what caught his attention until it happens again.

“Andromeda!” someone on the screen yells.

Ben’s head hurts.

Andromeda! a younger Benzaiten yells. He can feel the warm sun beating down on him, the familiar sounds of shouting down a street somewhere too far away to worry about. His voice, thin and reedy and so young, makes its best attempt at a growl. You will never escape me!

“You will never escape me!”

His head throbs, and he could cry with how much it hurts.

I do not intend to run - I will stay and fight, because good must always succeed! Someone with his face answers back, swinging a sword made of paper towel rolls and too much duct tape, and then breaks from the script: And I’m faster than you anyway, Benten, so I can escape whenever I want to.

For a moment, he rests on the divide between Ben and Benzaiten. If he tries, he could pull back - but he also knows he could no more let go of that voice than tear his own heart out.

Juno. A knowledge from the long-dormant pieces of him whispers an answer he doesn’t ask for, as it drags the whole of his messy, painful history with it. That’s Juno. Your twin. Your family.

Benzaiten is still crying, hurt radiating from his head and his chest, and there’s no one around to care so he doesn’t stop. He watches the stupid movie three times, then boards a ship and tries to hide the evidence with makeup and a bright smile. He’s two planets away by the time he thinks about going back, all the way back, and by the time he’s three planets away he��s decided that it would be a ridiculous idea.

It’s been years. Fuck, it’s been so many years. Does Juno live in the same place? What if he’s married now; out of the two of them, he was always the one looking for someone to hold onto him. Would he even want to see Ben?

The answer should be yes, but Ben’s not an idiot, he knows reality is more complicated. Juno buried him, and mourned for him, and maybe even started to heal - and Ben had run. Run without looking back, leaving a death certificate and open wounds behind him.

Is Sarah still alive?

The question stops him cold, staring through the window and the pieces of galaxy he’s passing. If Sarah is alive, he would have to see her, too. That’s a promise he made himself a long time ago - that he wouldn’t choose between them. He was the one who held the family together. He’d always been that.

The Benzaiten in his head, the person he isn’t sure he is yet - anymore - tells him she loves you.

Ben, here and now, tells him she shot you.

Both of those things are true. And when Ben pulls away from the window, he tells himself that’s what he’s afraid of, that someone he loved hurt him and could do it again, that he might let them in the foolish, stupid need to find out if the love was still there somewhere under all of the hurt. To know trying hard enough could mean getting better.

If there’s another fear, if he can feel the gravity of Mars pulling him back and down and heavy, he doesn’t let himself think it. And he’s gotten pretty good at deception, so he might even believe it.

~~~

Ben dances more, when he remembers dancing. Nothing feels as free as the movement, as his total control over it. Not even the stars.

How much of his running was escape, and how much was just running?

~~~

He still calls himself Ben.

He has his reasons. “Benzaiten” is too memorable, and sharing a face and a last name with a sibling seems like a really good way to get that sibling into trouble. There’s a reputation in place already with the name he used. There are days when he doesn’t feel like he fits in Benzaiten’s life. He finds plenty of reasons.

He doesn’t visit. He thinks about it, comes close - as close as a planet and one ticket fare away, once - but Ben can’t bring himself to step foot in Hyperion City. Hyperion belongs to Juno, somehow. He was the one who stayed (I do not intend to run - I will stay and fight), and going home feels like... trespassing. Ben knows Juno wouldn’t say that. It doesn’t stop him from thinking it.

Hyperion City has a newspaper, though, and a subscription service that seems a little optimistic in its range. Maybe not all that optimistic, since Ben regularly takes advantage of it - between jobs, and only on his personal comms. Most of it has nothing to do with him, but he skips and skims through the digitized pages anyway, looking for whatever hints of a life he can find. Juno is a private investigator now, which doesn’t surprise Ben. There’s an engagement announcement and no following marriage announcement, which does.

(Sarah is guilty, and dead, and he doesn’t know how he feels about that. He doesn’t linger on the thought.)

Sometimes, when he feels brave, he imagines what it could be like. So what’s this about a gala at that new art gallery? You know, the one that lasted a whole night before it got blown up?

Juno’s laughter from the other side of the comms connection, maybe a little too young. Uh huh, I heard. The HCPD put it all over the news, along with how they saved the day. Or didn’t you hear that part?

They can say whatever they want, I know a Juno Steel case when I see one. Now, Ben adjusts on the bed, miles and miles away, glancing at the window to see if he can get a peek back the way he came, tell me everything.

Maybe the next time you come to see me, Juno says, and just like that the thought disintegrates. He can never put too many words in Juno’s mouth; there are just too many things he doesn’t know.

Ben gets lucky one day and sees a whole half a picture of Juno, looking out on a crowd. He’s not the focus - he’s standing next to some politician in the middle of a speech, a Ramses O’Flaherty who makes a lot of promises that sound like the “too good to be true, but wouldn’t it be nice” kind - but Ben will take what he can get. He can’t decide if Juno has more or less scars than he would have expected, given his line of work. He wonders how they all got there. Juno is standing on the stage with the politician; he must buy some of those promises to put himself so clearly in the man’s corner.

There’s a kind of worry in his gut about it, but Ben tries to take it as a good sign. The Juno he knew had a hard time trusting people; it would be nice if he’d found someone to believe in. It would be nice if that trust is well-placed.

Ben has to leave his comms behind for a job, taking a burner along instead, so he gets the results of the election at the same time he gets the announcement of O’Flaherty’s death and the conspiracy over Newtown. It doesn’t have to mean anything - just another politician who wasn’t what he seemed to be, or didn’t manage to hang on long enough to make good on his promises. That’s all it is.

He still looks for Juno in the stories he reads. He can’t seem to find him, anymore.

~~~

For the first time since they were nineteen, Benzaiten sees Juno across the room.

For a moment, he feels like he’s seen a ghost. A ridiculous thought, from the dead twin.

Juno Steel is so far away from Hyperion City, talking to Zolotovna in a resplendent dress as if he’s lived the kind of life that makes him belong, immediately and implicitly, among the disgustingly rich. Ben, who is there for a reason, he knows he’s there for a reason but fuck if he can remember why, tries not to make it obvious that he’s staring. He’s failing at that, he knows.

But Juno is here. Juno is here in the room with him, so different than he remembers, with so many more scars. With one less eye. Ben wants to ask when that happened, wants to demand that story, just as much as he wants to fade into the crowd and run.

He feels untethered; he feels like, if he runs, he’ll never find his way back again. Just this once, Ben lets himself understand that the tug of gravity pulling him back was never a leash around his neck as much as it was a rope around his middle - giving him a way back home. Juno had always been his anchor, keeping him from drifting too far.

There’s no going back, now. There’s no going home, no home to go back to.

Juno’s glance turns in his direction, and Ben is about to duck out of the way - an amateur move, guaranteed to catch his sibling’s eye, but he thinks he can be forgiven for being a little bit off his game - when Ben realizes he’s not who Juno is looking for. A man slips by him, tall and confident and familiar in a way that tells Ben exactly why he should be familiar. Juno can’t seem to help the way his face changes when he spots the man.

So the thief grabbed at Juno’s heart and pulled him away from Hyperion. That’s why Juno is here. It’s... infuriating, because there’s no way a common con deserves Juno Steel. Because it was never a thought in Ben’s head that Juno could be convinced to leave Hyperion, and he never thought to ask. (I do not intend to run. Running was Ben’s job.)

Ben is ready to do something stupid. He’s halfway across the ballroom, walking directly towards his brother well and aware that the impact will cause an explosion of a scene, when he sees Juno tilt his head.

There’s a comms in his ear.

Ben has been a thief long enough to recognize the habits of another thief - especially a new one.

He doesn’t remember what he came to this event for, but there’s nothing, mark or prize or job, that Benzaiten wants more than to understand the stranger in the dress who almost has his face. If he breaks something with an impulsive decision, he thinks as he continues to cross the room, well - wouldn’t be the first time.

He’ll let himself be selfish. That’s what Ben does.

#the penumbra podcast #tpp #benzaiten steel #juno steel #junoverse #ben lives au #don’t ask my why i do not know #i was just curious about a Ben who becomes a thief #and it kinda spiraled from there #so i guess the hot takes are:#Ben’s family is a grounding force for him #and Ben also struggles with dealing with his mistakes #GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR VERY COMPLICATED EVENING JUNO

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t4tdeanwinchester · 3 years

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not to make an incredibly niche post at noon on a thursday but im thinking about dean getting some free time in the bunker and remembering the time claire called him old for not knowing what a “podcast” was and anyway, he IS looking for something else that could take his mind off the world for a bit like old wild west flicks or his secret very well hidden dice set do. and so he opens up “spotify” and searches for a while and eventually he sees “noir detective” and “outer space” and “mars” in the description and figures hell, he’ll give “the penumbra podcast” a shot. and wow, he starts it while working on baby in the garage, wow this juno steel character seems cool! he’s gruff and tough and drinks too much and he solves crimes in a broken city that can never be fixed - whats not to love, right? and then an hour into it his emotional support “manly” detective is kissing another man. and dean drops the fucking wrench. because that’s not whats supposed to happen. and he rewinds and listens again because he must have misheard, but there it is. private eye juno steel, who can drink whiskey and kiss a man and shoot a gun and kiss a man. and dean- he just takes a moment to breathe. takes a moment to make sure no one else is around, figures baby needs more work and it’s already on so he might as well keep listening, for convenience sake, he tells himself. he presses play and goes back to work. but then when juno calls himself a lady before he shoots a gun and makes his daring hero escape, dean just has to sit down because an old buried ghost of a feeling is welling up in his chest and he keeps listening well into the night just sitting on the garage floor and he hears juno steel kiss men and women and save hyperion city and be a lady and forgive himself for the angry parts of his mom he carries with him, the angry mom who haunts him

i just think that wouldve been very formative for him

#dean kins juno steel and thinks that’s why he’s bi #this post is for like 4 people whshsh whoops #supernatural #the penumbra podcast #spn #tpp #dean winchester #juno steel #apollo.txt

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genderbinaryisforlosers · 4 years

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i decided to come back to this!! gosh i love this family

[id: a digital painting of the Aurinko Crime Family from season 3 of The Penumbra Podcast. They stand against a height chart and are holding up Hyperion City PD boards with each of their names (Juno Steel, Peter Nureyev, Rita, Jet Siquliak, Vespa Ilkay, Buddy Aurinko) and one word, so that in a line they spell out “BE GAY DO CRIMES IN SPACE”. overlayed at the bottom of the image and covering almost everyone’s feet is the name Carte Blanche, followed by a list of charges: “Piracy; Grand Larceny; Conspiracy; Murder; Cybercrime; Fraud; Assault; Tax Evasion; Tresspassing; Auto Theft; Unregistered Weapon Possession; Resisting Arrest]

detailed description under the cut

[on the leftmost side is Juno, a short (5′5″), stocky black lady with short dark hair in locs, thick stubble, an eyepatch over his right eye, and several scars scattered across his skin. he is wearing a dark pink shirt with medium grey suspenders, and dark grey jeans. he has his head turned to the person next to him (Peter) with a grimace and elbowing him in the stomach. he’s holding up his HCPD board with his other hand, and his nails are painted black.

with his right elbow on Juno’s shoulder, Peter, a tall (6′1″), thin East Asian man with light skin and dark hair swept back, grins forward. he is wearing square glasses, gold droplet earrings, and a suit that consists of a white shirt, tan-coloured tie, yellow waistcoat, brown trousers, and dress shoes in matching yellow and brown. he is wearing white gloves, and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows. his left hand is on his hip while the other holds his board.

next to him is Rita, a very short (4′8.5″) fat black woman with dark hair that tapers into a bleached afro-ponytail. she is wearing a light blue shirt with a pale pattern on the shoulders, and a dark striped blue pencil skirt, dark translucent tights, and blue shoes with small heels. she is wearing pink-framed glasses with yellow-tinted lenses and winking and smiling, holding her board with both hands, which have pink nail polish on.

on her right is Jet, a huge (6′8″) man with tan skin, dark brown eyes and messy dark grey hair pulled back in a short ponytail, and light stubble. he has some light scarring, resembling veins, on his face. he is wearing a dark brown leather jacket, dark grey fingerless gloves, a belt with pouches and a holster attached beige trousers with dark grey kneepads, and dark red boots. he is frowning forward and holding up his board with both hands.

next to him is Vespa, a slight, medium height (5′7″) South Asian woman with dark skin, heavily scarred as if from burns, and dark gold eyes. she has short-ish green hair that gets lighter at the tips and an undercut on her right side. she is wearing a dark grey hoodie, black gloves, dull green leggings with a black holster around her right thigh, and black high-tops. she is scowling forward and holding her board with both hands.

finally on the rightmost side is Buddy, a tall (5′10″) curvy black woman with dark green eyes and bright red curly hair that covers half her face. under her hair, dark grey scarring is slightly visible. she is wearing a form-fitting purple dress, a green translucent shawl, and knee-high dark pink boots. she is wearing red lipstick and looking to her right with a smile, with her left hand up by her face as her elbow rests on her right hand, which is holding her board at an angle.

all of the boards are black with dark grey horizontal lines cutting across them, and have “HYPERION CITY PD” in small lettering at the top. on the bottom row, the same size, is the name of the person holding the board. the single word on the middle row of each board is much larger than the other lettering. all of the text is slightly glowing blue, and has pixelated and abberation effects to make it appear glitchy.

/end id]

#the penumbra podcast #juniverse #juno steel #peter nureyev #js rita #jet sikuliaq #vespa ilkay #buddy aurinko #be gay do crimes in space #tpp art #my art #things i made #the penumbra

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gerrystamour · 4 years

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the bittersweet between my teeth - Chapter 4

Written by: GerryStAmour | Gift for: @northisnotup

Some Important Notes:

The smut is available only on AO3! Link to the AO3 fic in my pinned post!

Nureyev is a gender euphoric trans man who has not had top-surgery and does not wear a binder. I use a mix of masculine and feminine terminology for his anatomy and genitalia, as I do for my own body as a transmasc individual. If this makes you uncomfortable, that is totally understandable, and I recommend skipping the smut.

This chapter is being posted early mostly because Chapters 3 and 4 were originally one whole chapter, which I split in half because of length. So consider this a bit of an Angel of Brahma style release. ;p

I am altering my update schedule for the last time! Please see my pinned post for the new schedule.

I'm working on a two-chapter Epilogue ficlet, which I hope to publish on Sunday, Nov 8, so keep an eye out for that.

Chapter Four [Previous Chapter] [First Chapter]

- - - - - Juno’s POV - - - - -

“My name is Peter Nureyev.”

Juno took in a shaky breath, trying to still his thoughts, which were suddenly racing with this new information.

“... What?” he asked quietly after a few moments, and immediately cringed at the stupid question. Juno knew Rex wasn’t his real name, he knew it all along so this wasn’t a revelation on its own.

Or at least it shouldn’t have been. At some point over their evening together, he had stopped thinking of ‘Rex Glass’ as a fake name, and this knocked Juno off balance.

But he could handle it, had demanded that information even. If Juno was a bit terrified to look at him though, he didn’t have to admit it.

“My name is Peter Nureyev,” the man underneath him repeated as he took a deep breath. “I’m a thief, and a very good one at that.”

Juno pulled back to look at Peter Nureyev, narrowing his eye at the stoic and hard expression the man wore. The corners of Nureyev’s mouth were tight and angled downward and Juno desperately wanted to kiss that stress away.

“I was hired,” Nureyev continued stiffly, the words sounding dragged out of him, “by a gentleman to regain some property that was taken.”

Ice filled Juno’s veins as he stared at Nureyev, something in his tone tickling the back of his mind. Why would a master thief be interested in him and look so tense as he confessed, he wondered. The answer came to him and felt like someone had punched him in the gut; he was Juno Steel, the one private eye in Hyperion City with a high-profile, nearly botched job on his record.

Humiliation burned in Juno’s gut and his face, and his mind began racing around how he was going to get out of Nureyev’s lap without looking like he was running away.

“Why does he need a thief.” He hadn’t even realized he was talking until the words were hanging in the air between them. It wasn’t a question as much as it was a statement, and the way Nureyev’s expression folded, his lips curving downward and his eyes softening at the corners, was all the confirmation Juno needed.

But he had to hear him say it. He had to hear the words come from Nureyev.

“No, finish that thought. I want to hear you say it.”

“Juno—”

“Just fucking say it, Diamond!”

Nureyev’s hands twitched where he still held Juno’s wrists, bringing Juno back from his swirling thoughts.

“Juno—” the thief began, and Juno could hear the excuses in his tone already.

“Why does he need a thief, Nureyev? Why didn’t he hire a detective?” Juno demanded, and he can feel himself shaking as well.

“Juno, I want you to know—”

“Just tell me, Nureyev!” Juno hissed through his teeth, and to his dismay tears had sprung to his eyes.

Nureyev licked his lips a bit nervously, and said, “His property was taken by the HCPD in a raid on an associate’s safehouse five years ago.”

Juno had begun laughing bitterly the moment Nureyev had mentioned the HCPD. A hollow, desperate ache settled in his chest, his eyes stinging from the pain. It was stupid to feel so hurt, but it was just the sort of prank whatever higher beings existed would play on him.

“Of fucking course,” Juno bit out, looking up at the ceiling. It was always too good to be true, he knew the other shoe would drop eventually, knew there was no reason someone as gorgeous and mysterious as Nureyev would even look twice at him if they didn’t have ulterior motives.

“That’s why you’re here. I knew it the moment I saw you at Hyperion Brewing, but I talked myself out of it. But that’s why you’re here,” Juno finally admitted to himself with a scoff, getting increasingly angry at himself for being so goddamn stupid. “You really know how to pick ‘em, Steel.”

“That isn’t why I’m here right now, nor why I’ve been seeing you,” Nureyev insisted, his voice pleading as Juno began to pull back. He let go of Juno’s wrists to gently hold his face. “Juno, please, believe that this is real—”

“Get your goddamn hands off me!” Juno snarled, jolting away from the touch as if he had been burned. Nureyev’s hands immediately fell away from Juno’s face, and he sat completely still while Juno climbed off his lap.

Juno could feel his hot blush as his dress fell open before he was able to catch it. He couldn’t even remember when the belt had been taken off, which just served to embarrass him even further.

“Juno, please listen—”

“If you say any of that ‘this is real’ bullshit, I will walk out right now, Nureyev,” Juno growled, and Nureyev’s mouth snapped shut.

They were quiet for a few moments while Juno located his belt and struggled to cinch it around his waist. His eyes were burning, his already limited vision blurry with his tears.

“No, you only started sniffing around me after that day at Hyperion Brewing. You’re just sticking around for information, or to spy on me, or whatever, so none of this is real!” Juno said bitterly, his hands shaking so badly he almost dropped his belt.

“I have never even come close to pressing for details about the job!” Nureyev defended himself, his tone annoyed. “All evening, I could have asked you about your eye, or your scars, under the guise of getting to know you, but I didn’t.”

Ice flooded his veins as Juno finally got the belt done up, the mention of his eye and his scars almost more painful than everything else. Of course Nureyev would have noticed, and he likely thought they were hideous just as everyone else did. But Juno was useful, Juno might have had information, so Nureyev was willing to tolerate him.

For a moment, all Juno could think about was Diamond pointing out his eyepatch constantly, the persistent suggestions to get a prosthetic eye and cosmetic surgery to clean up the scars. He was back in that apartment, after a year of surgeries and physical therapy, pleading with Diamond to understand just how much he didn’t want to go under again.

The humiliation of begging his fiance to still love him flared in him.

The moment Juno lost any semblance of usefulness, the disgust for his eye jumped to the forefront. It was the same sad story, one that Juno thought he was used to, but it hurt so much more with Nureyev.

“Oh, should I thank you then?” Juno asked, laughing bitterly. “Thanks for not asking about my worst job, my biggest goddamn failure, and amateur eye-surgery when you could have?”

“You know that’s not what I meant, Juno—” Nureyev said, sounding frustrated.

“Do I?” Juno countered, and that seemed to give Nureyev pause. When the thief opened his mouth to refute, Juno shook his head. “There’s something called ‘the long game’, Nureyev. You not asking me tonight means nothing.”

Nureyev wisely kept his mouth shut and Juno had to look away. He looked miserable sitting there on the bed, his expression deeply sad with his mouth, jaw, and throat smudged with Juno’s dark lipstick. There was a twist in his gut that felt like doubt, and for a moment Juno wanted to crawl back into his lap and kiss him, to take back his angry words and resume the perfect evening.

Shaking himself, Juno remembered the months of fear, of keeping his head down and his mouth shut, of trying to hold everything together. Then Nureyev had the nerve to seduce him when he worked for the person who was responsible for all of that.

“I actually thought the Piranha was done having her lackeys follow me,” Juno laughed. “This is really cruel though, even for her.

“Juno, I’m no one’s ‘lackey’,” Nureyev said pleadingly, shaking his head. “I was interested in you before I knew you were involved—”

“And after?” Juno interrupted, crossing his arms tightly.

Nureyev looked up at him, confused and thrown off guard by the question. “After what?” he asked eventually, quiet and unsure.

“After you found out, Nureyev. When you found out, you kept coming, you made me—” ‘fall for you’ Juno thought, and just barely managed to stop himself. Taking a deep breath, Juno started over, his voice low with his anger. “When you found out who I was, how close I was to this, why did you keep coming around?”

Nureyev took a deep breath, and said, “I was immediately taken with you from the moment I saw you—”

“Come off it, Nureyev,” Juno scoffed, rolling his eyes even as butterflies swarmed his guts. “You expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t ‘expect’ anything from you, Juno,” Nureyev said flatly, and that annoyance was back in his voice. “Except perhaps that you allow me to answer the questions you ask me.”

Juno huffed a loud breath and looked away. He wasn’t keen on admitting that Nureyev had a bit of a point.

“I saw you at the restaurant, and I was drawn to you, and I can’t explain why. You were handsome, and the way you looked at me… I was intrigued,” Nureyev explained haltingly and shrugged. “I found out your name from the owner. I didn’t know your connection to my job at the time.”

“Why would you be so interested in a complete stranger?” Juno asked incredulously.

“I don’t know, Juno!” Nureyev burst out, and he ran his hands back through his long hair. “I don’t normally let a pretty face capture my attention or distract me from a job! Remember, I’m a very good thief, which makes falling in love with part-time private eyes incredibly inconvenient.”

Juno’s insides froze as he said that, searching Nureyev’s face for a lie, especially surrounding the word ‘love’. Nureyev looked honest, his expression open and earnest for Juno to read, which was somehow the scariest thing in that moment.

But that wasn’t how the world worked, he thought bitterly. That man, the thief, came into his life— only occupying space in it for two weeks— and he was already making claims or allusions to feelings a partner of over a decade didn’t even have. It was impossible, and he would have to be pretty stupid to believe it.

“So ‘love at first sight’. That is what you’re trying to sell me?” Juno asked mockingly, emulating some of Benten’s sharp tone.

Nureyev’s jaw visibly twitched and a dark blush overcame his features. He was clearly getting frustrated with the conversation, and Juno prepared himself for anger, for the admission of his guilt.

“I’m not trying to sell you anything, least of all something so fanciful,” Nureyev finally replied, and his voice was softer than his intense gaze let on. “But I do care deeply for you now. Your ‘buying it’ has no bearing on the truth of it.”

Juno ground his teeth viciously, anger flashing through him that the thief would continue the act. That he wouldn’t just cut it out and admit it.

“So you were curious, we’ll go with that. Any smart criminal would find out that the tail they’re chasing is a part-time private eye and run the other way,” Juno said. “But you kept coming around, getting closer to me. Why?”

“I was selfish,” Nureyev admitted after a steadying breath through his nose. “I didn’t want to leave without seeing you.”

“So, you played with my feelings?”

“I did not play with your feelings, Juno,” Nureyev replied earnestly, almost desperately. “But when it became obvious you reciprocated, I couldn’t hurt you by just disappearing.”

Juno laughed loudly at that. “And this is better?” he asked coldly, and Nureyev’s expression crumpled under it.

Juno wanted to stop, to shut his mouth and leave. He wanted so badly to just go home, crawl into his bed and hide.

“That job, Piranha and whoever she works for, ruined my life, Nureyev. The people you’re working for destroyed everything, and you come along and just—” Juno interrupts himself with a watery, harsh laugh, shaking his head. “You should’ve just left, Nureyev. I have plenty of experience with that. I would’ve survived.”

Juno immediately regretted the words the moment he said them, especially with the way Nureyev’s expression went slack and his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“Your piss-poor attitude was only cute when you looked like—”

Juno opened his mouth to take it back but Nureyev just cleared his throat and stood, towering over him once again.

“Of course,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “As I said, it was selfish.”

Juno pinched the bridge of his nose as Nureyev left the bedroom to sit at the desk in the living room.

“Nureyev, listen, I didn’t mean—” Juno began as he followed Nureyev, watching as the man opened his laptop.

“No, you were right, Juno. I should have left you alone from the beginning,” Nureyev insisted. “This was foolish on my part.”

Juno felt his anger and hurt wane as he watched Nureyev. There was nothing too obvious to let on to his emotions, but there was the slightest slump to his usually perfect posture, which only served to break Juno’s heart further.

When Juno properly paid attention to what Nureyev was doing, he realized he was looking at surveillance feeds. “What are you doing?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“Deleting any surveillance video with my face, and also your arrival at the hotel,” he answered quietly, not even looking away from the monitor.

“You’ve been doing this every night?” That bloom of doubt was back, and Juno hated it.

“Yes, which has been getting exhausting. I’ve put off finishing this for too long,” Nureyev sighed. “I’ve been reckless, and it’s only a matter of time before I make a mistake if I haven’t already.”

Juno immediately recognised that fact, and the rest of his anger left him so suddenly he felt dizzy. “Why would you risk so much?”

Nureyev did not even pause in his work on the laptop as he smiled sadly and replied, “I’m sure you can divine my reasons from my previous statements, dear detective. You’re very clever.”

Juno felt his face heat up at the praise and felt annoyed at himself all over again. He was making himself the easiest mark ever for people like Nureyev.

Then the thief’s fingers faltered in their typing and he tipped his head thoughtfully. “What did you mean by ‘amateur eye surgery’?” Nureyev asked. “Or ‘the Piranha’ for that matter?”

Juno raised an eyebrow when Nureyev turned to look at him. “You haven’t met your employer’s pet thug?” he asked sceptically. “She’s a real piece of work, you know? Sadistic, and I mean, I go for a little pain—”

“Juno,” Nureyev interrupted softly, and snapped him out of his sarcastic tirade.

“Fine. She’s really ugly, missing an ear, tons of scars? Her teeth are all sharp—” Juno began, but he stopped abruptly as his heart rate picked up just thinking about her.

“She has an underbite?” Nureyev supplied and Juno nodded gratefully.

“That’s the one. I call her the Piranha. Didn’t really catch a name between her stun blast and…” Juno said, trailing off to gesture at his eye. At Nureyev’s blank look, he shifted on his feet uncomfortably. “C’mon Nureyev, you knew I lost my eye during that job. You said it yourself.”

Nureyev turned back to the laptop and clicked the keyboard a few more times before slowly shutting it. “I was under the impression— no, told your eye had been an injury sustained in an altercation,” Nureyev replied when he turned to meet Juno’s gaze again. “An accident.”

Juno frowned with a sceptical snort. “I mean, if torture falls under the ‘altercation’ umbrella, then yeah. But it wasn’t an accident.”

It was obvious that several pieces of information were clicking into place for Nureyev if his narrowed eyes were anything to go by. “Either my employer is unaware of this ‘Piranha’s’ true actions that day, or he lied to me,” Nureyev finally said after a moment, sucking his teeth a bit before saying, “I’m not sure which is worse.”

“Normally, I would say he lied to you. But she worked overtime to keep my mouth shut, so,” Juno said, trailing off with a shrug. The distinct feeling of panic overcame him, and he tried to calm himself down.

“What do you mean, Juno?” Nureyev asked, and his voice was so gentle, it made Juno want so much. He wanted to be held again, he wanted to crawl into bed and have strong arms wrapped around him tightly, he wanted Nureyev to kiss him again, if only to remind him that he was sitting in a hotel room and not in that dark, terrible cellar.

“She said whoever she worked for wouldn’t be happy if I died,” he replied, his words stilted as he said them. “Didn’t stop her from carving up my eye and stalking my loved ones, but hey. I survived.”

Juno sat heavily in the armchair near the desk, pinching the bridge of his nose. When he looked up again, he saw that Nureyev had turned to fully face him, waiting patiently for him to continue.

“When I was in the hospital, one of her goons came by and dropped an entire folder of pictures of Benten and Rita in my lap. Nothing else, just that. The asshole didn’t even say anything,” he said, his voice breaking a bit and his face felt hot as tears stung his eyes again. “She had me followed for months, and every couple of weeks a new goon would hand me a new folder full of new pictures.”

“Juno—” Nureyev began, lifting his hand as if to reach for Juno’s, but appeared to think better of it. Juno wished Nureyev had followed through, which he knew was ridiculous after the scene he had been making, so he shook it off with a deep breath.

“The worst was—” Juno choked on the words for a moment, the fear gripping him. “The worst was a picture of Benten. It was taken from inside his apartment. It was some guy Benten had brought home, someone he met at a bar. But the message was loud and clear.”

“Juno…” Nureyev murmured sadly, but said nothing else.

“So, I kept my mouth shut, accepted the pictures, confirmed that I understood, and kept my head down for months,” he finished explaining, shrugging a bit.

Nureyev was silent, watching his face with an unreadable expression.

“Fuck, all of that, and for nothing. Just to get dragged back into it all,” Juno muttered as an aside to himself. With a disgusted noise, Juno met Nureyev’s eyes. “Who’s your employer anyway? I know it’s one of Pereyra’s opponents, but I never found out who.”

“Ramses O’Flaherty,” Nureyev responded without hesitation and was startled at Juno’s bark of laughter.

“O’Flaherty? Bullshit,” Juno said with an eye-roll.

“I assure you, dear detective. It is Ramses O’Flaherty who is signing my paycheque,” Nureyev replied, a bit confused.

“But that makes no sense,” Juno argued, his incredulity almost palpable. “His political ads, his speeches, hell, his entire platform is built on being anti-crime and anti-cop! The Piranha and the crap I found at her safehouse are the complete opposite.”

Nureyev’s curiosity was piqued at that. “You saw what was in the cases?”

“Yeah?” Juno replied, a bit confused. “O’Flaherty didn’t tell you what was in them?”

“He was insistent that I refrain from looking,” Nureyev replied thoughtfully. “He was also going on about the Greater Good, though I had stopped listening at that point.”

“Yeah, that does sound like O’Flaherty,” Juno sighed. “The one case had a little chip in it. Something called the THEIA something or whatever. The other stuff was some tech, looked like drones with a ton of firepower. The inscription said they were—”

Juno cut himself off to think back, trying to remember the inscriptions and what they said. He jolted when he remembered that the items were from New Kinshasa, and they all were marked with G.A.S. preceding a series of numbers.

“Juno?” Nureyev prompted him gently, his voice filled with concern.

“The tech was from New Kinshasa,” Juno started cautiously, sucking in a deep breath when Nureyev tensed. “Some… hyper-mobile update to their Guardian Angel System.”

All of the colour left Nureyev’s face as he asked quietly, “... What?” Juno could see in Nureyev’s eyes that he was living a waking nightmare, and he wanted to stop the entire conversation and hold him.

“Back then, I sent Rita a picture of the stuff and had her look it up. Turns out, about twenty years ago, New Kinshasa started pouring a ton of money into R&D,” Juno explained instead. “I guess some radicals almost destroyed the whole city, so they wanted something that wouldn’t be so easy to take down.”

“And how did O’Flaherty come into possession of this?” Nureyev asked, his voice shaking with barely concealed anger. Juno could understand that feeling.

“Well, with the end of the war and Brahma joining the Solar government, they needed money,” Juno replied with an angry laugh. “They started selling units to interested parties to test the whole thing. Nothing says ‘peace’ like a government institution selling weapons to private investors.”

Nureyev smirked at the sarcasm, but his voice was tight as he asked, “And what did you learn about these radicals?”

“Not much,” he replied with a shrug, and is startled a bit by the sharp look Nureyev gives him. “I mean, Rita probably knew more at the time, but then she went off about some betrayal plot on one of her streams.”

“But after the case—”

“Nureyev, everyone I loved was being threatened after the case,” Juno reminded him. “I told Rita to get rid of all that info she dug up after the first goon threatened me in the hospital.”

Nureyev nodded woodenly, his eyes distant as he apparently stared at Juno’s knees.

“You okay, Nureyev?” Juno asked, and it came out far more tenderly than he wanted it to be, but he couldn’t help it.

Nureyev snapped out of his thoughts and met Juno’s gaze again with a distracted, “Hm?”

“You went somewhere far away,” Juno said, and he wanted to hold Nureyev’s hand, to bring him back and soothe that troubled expression from his face.

Nureyev watched Juno as well, obviously debating something behind his bright eyes. Something shifted in Nureyev’s expression, something sharp and dangerous, and Juno felt his breath catch in his throat.

“I’m planning to steal the weapons and have them destroyed,” Nureyev said firmly. “They shouldn’t be in anyone’s hands.”

“Glad to hear it,” Juno said, aiming for sarcastic, but it came out sincerely pleased. “I mean, I figured, because I know, roughly, what happens on Brahma, but—”

“I was one of the so-called ‘radicals’. Twenty years ago, with my mentor,” Nureyev confessed, the words rushed and hitting Juno hard in the chest. “We were hardly radicals, honestly. We were thieves, stealing the core to the Guardian Angel System.”

“But… Rita told me the same core that powered the weapon—”

“Also powered the levitation system for the city, yes. My mentor misled me about the job, and when I found out the city would be destroyed, I tried to reason with him. Or stop him. I was…” Nureyev trailed off, looking haunted before he snapped himself out of it. “It doesn’t matter. When he refused to stop, I— I killed him.”

“Nureyev…” Juno started, but he had nothing he could say to that.

Looking at the thief now, Juno realized how young Nureyev would have been when that all happened. It made Juno’s heart ache for Nureyev, and then he remembered what Nureyev had said over dinner. His mentor had saved him from the streets, and later he felt he had to kill the man to save a whole city.

“I don’t regret it. I couldn’t see the justification in destroying an entire city, and I still can’t,” Nureyev said after a few moments, his tone clipped and rehearsed. It sounded defensive, like something the thief repeated to himself daily. It was the first thing Nureyev had said that felt like a lie the whole evening, but Juno knew it wasn’t a lie for him. “He was wrong, and I couldn’t let him leave with the core.”

Juno wanted to leave it there, but he never could stop asking questions. “Then why does it look like you regret it?”

Nureyev’s features closed up, like shutters being pulled. “Is that relevant right now?” he asked curtly.

Juno watched him, a sadness for Nureyev so deep in his heart he felt close to crying, and his anger from earlier was all but forgotten. Eventually, he shook his head with a heavy sigh.

“No, I guess it’s not, you’re right,” he said before he added a bit awkwardly, “Thanks for… telling me, I guess. You didn’t have to.”

Nureyev shook himself a bit, straightening his posture, and raised an eyebrow. “My name is attached to that job, so the moment you would’ve had Rita look me up, you would have known. She likely already knows my name without realizing it.”

Juno was quiet for several long moments, rolling Nureyev’s words around in his head. That was all true, and he was sure Rita would have pulled up any information on him that she wanted. Hell, there was probably information out there Nureyev thought was completely hidden, but Rita could find.

“I wanted to hear what stories you have in your own words…”

He bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully as he remembered Nureyev’s words from dinner.

“I wasn’t going to ‘look you up’,” he finally said.

Nureyev looked visibly shocked, and then sceptical. “And why not?”

Juno shrugged with a sad chuckle. “Why didn’t you look me up?” he countered.

It was almost funny enough for Juno to laugh when realization dawned on Nureyev, his eyes widening with a soft “oh” as he looked down at his hands in his lap.

The conversation had gotten too emotional, too vulnerable for Juno to handle at the moment, so he changed the subject. “So what’s the plan? What are we doing?”

Nureyev met his gaze again, deeply concerned. “We?” he asked.

“Yeah, ‘we’. You and I both want those weapons destroyed,” Juno replied firmly. “I want to stop Pilot and Ramses, and you brought me back into this mess whether you meant to or not. I’m coming with you, and you’re not going to stop me.”

Nureyev made a small noise and shook his head. “But Juno, your eye—”

“—Isn’t coming back any time soon! And hey, I figure I owe it some payback anyway,” Juno interrupted with a shrug, his tone flippant and deliberately infuriating.

Nureyev was flustered, visibly stressed at the thought of Juno joining him. Juno would have found it cute, even flattering, if he wasn’t still coming down from his hurt and anger.

“Juno, I can’t— it’s dangerous—” Nureyev started again and Juno laughed a bit.

“I’m a private eye, Nureyev. ‘Danger’ is in the job description,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Give me a real reason.”

Nureyev paused for a long time before leaning forward to gently, tentatively touch the back of Juno’s hand. Without hesitation, Juno turns his hand and allows Nureyev to hold it.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt by them again,” Nureyev confessed very quietly, barely loud enough for Juno to hear.

Juno felt his heart flip several times, his breath leaving him in a short whoosh, and he had to fight to be annoyed at the coddling. “I can handle myself, Nureyev,” he snapped with a pout, though it held no heat.

“Oh, I know, my dear detective. I would never doubt your resilience,” Nureyev said with a small laugh, reaching up with his other hand to cup Juno’s cheek. His expression turned so soft and earnest, Juno felt overwhelmed with his want for that gentle concern. “I only wish you knew you didn’t always have to. You could just let me do this and be done with it entirely.”

For a moment, Juno very nearly gave in to that soft request, to let Nureyev take care of him, of their combined mess, but that was just not possible for him.

“You don’t seem to get it,” Juno said with a shake of his head. “This is my problem, my screw-up, my responsibility. Plus, you got me involved again.”

Nureyev stroked the back of Juno’s hand and cheek with his thumbs thoughtfully, and the sensation of the smooth leather of his gloves sent shivers up Juno’s spine. “Fair enough,” he said eventually, nodding. “Just know that I’m not used to working with someone else.”

The two of them spent the better part of an hour going over Nureyev’s existing plans for the heist, working Juno into them and reworking the parts that wouldn’t work with two people. The plan had been brilliant to start with, and Juno almost felt bad about coming in with a sledgehammer. However, when all was said and done, Juno was legitimately confident in the new plan.

That— being confident in the plan— was enough to plant a seedling of doubt in his gut. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard Benten calling him ‘Lady Raincloud’ and dismissed his nerves. He and Nureyev were both professionals in their own ways, and they could handle an in-and-out job.

Juno was standing at the desk next to where Nureyev sat, bent at the waist and propped on one hand, idly chewing on his thumbnail while he stared at the laptop screen. “I can have Rita look into finding a different way in, but the sewer is really our best bet. And maybe a better way to deal with the security cameras,” he murmured, mostly to himself but Nureyev hummed his agreement. “I’m not liking how tight that window is.”

If Nureyev was uncomfortable involving Rita, he didn’t say anything.

“So,” Juno said slowly, looking at Nureyev. “Two nights from now?”

“That should give us enough time to collect what intel we need,” Nureyev confirmed, before looking up at him and slyly adding with a smirk, “It also gives me at least twenty-four more hours to convince you to stay out of it.”

Juno smirked right back. “Don’t count on it.”

A moment of absolute silence stretched between them as they looked at each other, and slowly Nureyev’s smirk softened to something fond. Juno jumped a bit as gloved fingers slid gently against the outside of his bare thigh before he shivered. With a shaky sigh, Juno leaned into the contact.

“Juno, I—” Nureyev started hesitantly before taking a deep breath. “I want you to know that I care very deeply for you, and that I never thought of you as a mark, that— I meant everything I’ve said and more.”

“I know,” Juno said in a quiet voice, and he was surprised by himself. The sincerity in Nureyev’s eyes was overwhelming, and enough to break through his usual cloud of doubt for the moment.

“The true depths of my— my feelings are unknown even to me,” Nureyev continued earnestly, apparently on a roll. “They terrify me, Juno. Whenever I try to understand them, and the thought of leaving after all this…”

Juno stood back up to his full height and turned toward Nureyev, holding his face in his hands. When Nureyev allowed his eyes to flutter shut, Juno released a shuddering breath. “You don’t have to go,” Juno whispered, surprising himself yet again with his soft begging.

What right did he have asking that of Nureyev?

Nureyev’s face twisted sadly, and his lashes looked a bit wet. “Juno, please—”

“You can stay,” Juno pushed, talking over Nureyev desperately. “Rita can clear any record you have, set you up with everything you need, I have connections—”

“Juno, stop, please,” Nureyev pleaded, his voice so soft Juno’s heart ached. When Nureyev opened his eyes again to look up at him, his eyes glassy. “You know I can’t stay, even if I wanted to give everything up. I do not want to retire, and I cannot stay on Mars, my love.”

Juno closed his eyes and nodded, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I know,” he replied.

Nureyev took a deep breath and Juno could feel him shaking nervously. “Would you come with me?” he asked, in a voice so fragile Juno held completely still lest he break something. The question hit him like a solid punch to his gut, and for a few wild seconds the ‘yes’ was on the tip of his tongue.

But then he thought of Benten, and Rita, and where would they fit in his brave new future with Nureyev? A man he knew for all of two weeks? It was absurd.

“I’m sorry,” Juno whispers, his voice barely audible, even to himself. “Nureyev, I—”

“Hush, dear detective,” Nureyev said soothingly, lifting a hand to gently hold one of Juno’s wrists, the other still stroking his thigh. The contact is chaste, but it was intimate beyond anything Juno had ever experienced, even with Diamond. Now that he was looking down at Nureyev, seeing him with his hair loose, heart open, and Juno’s lipstick still smeared in places, Juno felt heat returning to his gut.

“I… I would like to spend whatever time we have left together, however you wish,” Nureyev said, his eyes soft and wet with emotion. “I will understand, however, if you wouldn’t want that.”

Juno sucked in a slow breath, shaky as it was with his conflicting thoughts. He was still upset, still angry, and normally he would have made someone who made him that angry work to get his favour back. But Nureyev didn’t have that sort of time— they didn’t have that sort of time. Here in this hotel room was possibly the last time they would be together like this, and there was the entire possibility that one or both of them would be killed in two days.

So Juno stepped closer to Nureyev, bracketing one of his knees with his legs so he could stand flush to Nureyev’s body. Nureyev tipped his head back obligingly, with his eyes half-lidded and lips parted. Without hesitation, Juno dipped his head and kissed Nureyev, soft and sweet, swallowing the quiet sound of surprise the thief made.

Nureyev immediately wrapped an arm around his waist, his strength surprising given how thin his arm felt, and his hand twisted in the fabric of Juno’s dress. The hand on his thigh squeezed with sudden bruising strength as Nureyev deepened the kiss, Juno meeting him halfway with his tongue.

Juno had tangled his hands in Nureyev’s hair once again, twisting in the length of it and holding him in place, whining petulantly when Nureyev began to pull back.

“Juno, wait—” Nureyev began, their mouths still together and panting. Even as he was trying to talk, Nureyev was pressing small kisses on and around Juno’s lips.

“Nureyev, c’mon,” he managed to mumble through their needy kisses.

Nureyev slid his hand further up Juno’s thigh, slipping under the straps of the flower harness he wore and nearly grabbing his ass. The straps pulled tight against the soft flesh of Juno’s thigh, pulling a desperate gasp from him. At that, Nureyev pulled away from the kiss completely, meeting Juno’s eye. He was panting already, and Juno quite liked the image he made, dishevelled as he was with hair a mess and dark red lipstick smeared over his lips.

“Juno, I don’t want to do anything that will hurt you,” Nureyev said, and Juno could tell he meant it. That doesn’t mean he didn’t try to laugh it off.

“I like a little pain, don’t worry about that, Nureyev,” he said with a smirk. “My safe word is—”

“Juno, I’m being serious!” Nureyev snapped lightly, though interestingly enough there was some legitimate interest in his expression.

Juno sighed and stooped to kiss Nureyev again, sweet and chaste, and he hoped it was full of everything he was feeling. Words were hard at the best of times, but especially when things were intense. Juno had always been better with his actions, or at least he liked to think he was. And right then he just wanted so much, so deeply, he could hardly breathe with it.

“Nureyev, I want this, I wouldn’t start it if I didn’t. And yeah, I’m still pissed at you, and yeah it’s going to hurt like hell when you leave,” Juno finally said, leaning his forehead against Nureyev’s. “But that’s at least two days away, and I just want to… have this while I can. If you don’t want to after all, I get it. I’ll go home and see you tomorrow at the cafe.”

“Are you sure?” Nureyev asked.

“Nureyev, I’m sure,” Jun replied impatiently.

Nureyev’s lips spread into a shit-eating grin. “Absolutely positive?”

“Knock it off, Nureyev,” Juno growled, moaning softly into a kiss that suddenly captured his lips.

Nureyev smiled warmly up at him when he pulled back. “Just need to hear you say it,” he sighed, and Juno rolled his eyes.

“Glad we cleared that up, then, now can we—”

Juno let out a squeak of surprise when Nureyev stood up, the arm around his back and gloved hand on his thigh steadying him. His mouth was seized in a hungry kiss, the pressure rough and full of teeth, as he was half-walked, half-carried the handful of steps back into the bedroom.

Nureyev let him go once they reached the edge of the bed to work on Juno’s belt. He hadn’t done it up quite right when he put it back on earlier, so Nureyev did have to pull away from the kiss with a laugh to undo it properly. Juno grinned up at him like a dope at the laugh, and accepted the kiss that was dropped to his mouth once the belt fell away and the drape of the gown fell open again.

Juno tried to think about it as a fling, that he wasn’t impossibly far gone on Nureyev already, that his laugh didn’t fill him with so much light he feared he might burst from it.

Nureyev reached up to gently touch Juno’s eyepatch in silent question, and panic flooded his veins with ice. He wasn’t ready for Nureyev to see his eye just yet, not ready for him to look at him with disgust or pity or that terrible combination of both.

When Juno jerkily shook his head, Nureyev smiled gently and backed off without question.

“Now how does the rest of this come off, love?” he asked, tugging at Juno’s dress a bit.

Juno’s relief was so overwhelming, he almost had to sit down. Instead, he huffed out a soft laugh and dragged Nureyev back down into a needy kiss, happily swallowing his soft sound of surprise.

- - - - -

Juno dozed a bit after his athletic evening with Nureyev. He had closed his eyes while Nureyev got up to get a washcloth, and truthfully hadn’t tried too hard to stay awake.

However, he must have slept deeper and longer than he had meant to. When Juno opened his eyes again, he found that he was cleaned up and tucked in under the duvet. Juno sighed contentedly as he registered the warm, naked body he was cuddled up against, a strong lean arm wrapped loosely around his shoulder. Nureyev’s long, slender fingers traced little symbols into the skin on the cap of Juno’s shoulder, the sensation ticklish but pleasant. Juno shifted so his legs were tangled with Nureyev’s, sighing when the arm around him held him tighter.

With a hum, Juno wrapped an arm around Nureyev’s waist and pressed a lazy kiss to his chest where his head rested. He didn’t move away immediately, instead inhaling a deep breath through his nose. Juno’s head swam with the scent of Nureyev’s cologne, the smell of it somehow stronger with the musk of sweat and sex in the air.

Juno couldn’t help the little groan he made as he adjusted himself on top of Nureyev. When Juno nuzzled his nose against the skin of his throat, Nureyev made a small, happy sound and Juno grinned tiredly.

He never wanted to leave that bed, a realization that sunk heavily in his gut.

“That was amazing,” Nureyev said around a huge yawn, sounding perfectly blissed-out and sated.

Juno snorted, even as tears gathered in his eyes again. ‘Amazing’ was an understatement, which was a problem for Juno. Part of him had hoped sex with Nureyev would have been boring, or even bad, so it would have been easier for when Nureyev had to leave him. But of course, it hadn’t been; it was amazing, like nothing else Juno had ever had with another person.

Things could never be easy for Juno Steel.

“Yeah,” Juno sighed, closing his eyes. “It was.”

They laid together in comfortable silence, and Juno began dozing again as Nureyev scratched his back lightly. His eyepatch was getting uncomfortable, and he began debating taking it off. Maybe it would be okay. Nureyev was different, Juno was sure of it. Panic kicked up his heart rate, and the thought of testing that after something so perfect was nauseating.

“Juno? Are you awake?” Nureyev asked hesitantly, snapping Juno out of his spiralling thoughts. With a relieved sigh, Juno tilted his head up to look at Nureyev’s face.

“What’s up?” Juno asked, his voice laced with exhaustion. Before he could think about it or stop himself, he kissed Nureyev’s shoulder gently before propping himself on an elbow to better meet his gaze.

Nureyev was smiling at him, his eyes half-lidded and bright even in the low lighting. He looked so warm and perfect with his long hair loose around his face and shoulders. Lipstick still stained his mouth, jaw, and throat, tempting Juno to retrace his steps.

When Nureyev lifted his hand to cup his cheek, Juno turned his head to kiss his palm, closing his eyes and breathing that intoxicating scent in again.

“Oh, love,” Nureyev whispered, sliding his hand back to pull Juno into a slow, languid kiss. Juno sighed into it and pouted a bit when the thief ended it. “You’re making this very difficult.”

“You chose me, so that’s what you get,” Juno said cheekily, but was very aware that Nureyev had something serious on his mind.

“You asked me earlier why I—” Nureyev began hesitantly, his voice strained until he cleared his throat. “You asked earlier why I appeared to regret killing my… mentor, Mag.”

“Yeah, but you don’t actually have to answer that,” Juno replied. Curiosity burned in his gut, but the warm flush had left Nureyev’s face, and Juno could feel how tense he was. “I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“I want to answer it. Or I at least want you to know,” Nureyev insisted, pushing himself up to recline against the pillows more upright. “After all of that, you should know.”

“I mean, if it’s that important to you, go ahead,” Juno replied, shifting to straddle Nureyev’s lap and meet his gaze easily. Nureyev smiled gently at him before leaning in for a lingering kiss. When he pulled back, he took a deep, fortifying breath.

“He was going to kill a city of innocent people, so I knew I had to stop him. But when my knife sank into his back…” Nureyev trailed off, closing his eyes as he worked through something in his head, Without thinking, Juno reached up to tuck some of Nureyev’s hair behind his ear.

“I wasn’t sure if I did it to stop him, and that there truly was no other way to do so,” Nureyev continued after a few quiet moments, “Or if I only did it because he lied.”

Juno took a deep breath and nodded, unsure of what to do with a confession like that. “About the Guardian Angel System?” he asked to clarify his meaning.

Nureyev shook his head with a soft, bitter laugh. “It would have been easier if that was his biggest lie,” Nureyev replied. “But he lied about my father.”

Juno waited for Nureyev, watching his face as he thought about his next words. It hit him suddenly that Nureyev likely hadn’t said any of this out loud to anyone before, that Juno was the first to hear this particular dark corner of Nureyev’s history.

Something small, yet terrifying fluttered to life in the back of Juno’s mind, which he quickly squashed.

“He saved me from the streets, raised me, taught me everything I know now, all while he fed me this elaborate tale about a father who was a martyr for the cause,” Nureyev continued, and he couldn’t meet Juno’s gaze anymore. “I built my entire identity around my name, that idea, that story. I wanted so badly to live up to my father’s legacy, to make everyone proud of me the way he did.”

“But it was a lie,” Juno finished for him, his breath leaving him in a whoosh at the thought of being lied to like that. Sure, Diamond’s deception had hurt, but that was so small and petty compared to what Nureyev was telling him.

“I was so confused and lost after I killed him, and I just stopped thinking about it. Filed it away and moved on,” Nureyev said with a sigh, rolling his eyes at himself. “I was just afraid of what it would make me if I only killed him for lying.”

Juno frowned as Nureyev finished, opening his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. He wasn’t sure how much Nureyev would appreciate his lame insights, so instead he stretched upward to place a soft kiss to the corner of Nureyev’s mouth. Nureyev immediately tilted his head to accept the kiss with his lips, even as his brow furrowed in confusion and shock.

Juno pulled away and settled back against Nureyev, dropping his head onto his chest to doze off again.

“That makes sense,” he said softly, listening to the frantic heartbeat under his ear.

Nureyev was quiet for a while before he asked, “That’s all? Just ‘that makes sense’?”

Juno shrugged, suddenly concerned he had read the entire conversation wrong. “I mean, thanks… for telling me? You didn’t have to?” Juno said awkwardly, cringing at himself.

“Juno, please look at me,” Nureyev requested, and that was the last thing on the planet Juno wanted to do.

Nonetheless, Juno sat up again and met his gaze, biting the inside of his cheek. Nureyev’s eyes were wet with unshed tears, and confusion was written across his face.

“I just told you I murdered someone I considered a parent, and you… don’t care?” he asked, his voice weak with his uncertainty.

“I care, Nureyev, but I just…” As always, Juno struggled for the right words at the worst time, letting out a frustrated huff. “I care about you. And, I don’t know, the problem or moral dilemma you’re having with it makes sense. I guess I would be worried if you weren’t torn up about it. But you did it twenty years ago and saved an entire city. If you want me to hold it against you now, you’re out of luck.”

Nureyev looked baffled before he reached up to pull Juno down into a deep, but chaste kiss. When Juno moaned softly and opened up for him, the thief sighed.

When Juno pulled back, Nureyev was smiling so softly up at him, it broke his heart.

“Stay the night?” Nureyev asked quietly.

Juno wanted nothing more than to say yes, to say that he would stay forever if Nureyev would simply ask. He thought about everything Nureyev had told him, how open he had been, and suddenly Juno wanted to tell Nureyev about Diamond. He wanted to lay in that bed and whisper confessions, and kiss, and make love into the early hours of the morning.

He wanted it all with Peter Nureyev.

As if on cue, Juno’s comms began to beep and he scrambled to the end of the bed. He found it on the ground and quickly put it in his ear.

“Juno Steel,” he answered curtly, glancing back at Nureyev.

“Juno, where the hell are you?” Benten scolded shrilly, and Juno flinched. “It’s after midnight, and you said you would call!”

Juno cringed and stuck his tongue out at Nureyev’s smug smirk. “Yeah, sorry Ben, we just got busy talking,” he said, and it wasn’t a complete lie. “I’m just waiting for the cab and I’ll be home soon. Go to bed.”

Benten was quiet for several long moments before he said, “Talking, huh?”

“Yes, Benzaiten, talking,” Juno said through gritted teeth, his face hot with embarrassment. “Go to bed.”

Benten sighed dramatically. “Fine. You owe me a full play-by-play in the morning, though,” he said.

“Yeah, whatever,” Juno said with a snort. “See you in the morning.”

The commes beeped as Benten hung up and Juno looked back at Nureyev properly. He was struck all over again by the image Nureyev made surrounded by pillows, long hair messy and knotted, lipstick stains all over and completely naked. Had he been younger, Juno knew he would be hard again and ready for round two.

Nureyev smiled at him and leaned over to the bedside table for his own comms. “You try to get cleaned up a bit, and I’ll call you a cab,” Nureyev offered and was already dialling a number in.

Juno crawled back up the bed to kiss Nureyev deeply before slipping away into the bathroom.

He stared at his face in the mirror, at the way his lipstick was smeared from their kisses, and his mascara and eyeliner had run with his tears. Closing the bathroom door and locking it, Juno took the eyepatch off and grabbed the make-up wipes provided by the hotel.

They were decent quality, and did a decent enough job in cleaning up his racoon eyes, but proved useless when he tried to deal with the mess of lipstick that was smeared up his cheek. It appeared that Benten exclusively purchased make-up for demons, he thought bitterly before wetting a washcloth and giving himself another quick wash.

Stepping back into the bedroom, Juno found it to be empty. He could hear Nureyev on his laptop out in the living room, humming quietly, so Juno picked his dress and shoes up off the floor and went to join him.

Nureyev was sitting cross-legged on the couch with his laptop. The image of him sitting there was striking, with Nureyev completely naked except for his glasses, with lipstick stains all over his pale skin and his hair still a tangled mess around his face. Something about seeing Nureyev like that— sleepy and dishevelled, head tilted upward while he squinted through his glasses thoughtfully— had Juno wishing for more time or a different life, whatever it took to keep it.

It was so soft and intimate, Juno’s heart ached and he wanted nothing more than to drag Nureyev back to bed and kiss him senseless.

Instead, Juno pulled his dress back on, doing the belt up as he stopped to stand behind the couch. Bending at the waist, Juno wrapped his arms around Nureyev’s shoulders and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the side of Nureyev’s throat before looking at the computer screen.

It was a window full of different surveillance feeds for the hotel, and Juno raised an eyebrow. “What’re you up to now?”

Nureyev turned his head to capture Juno’s lips in a searching kiss, groaning when Juno opened for him. When he finally pulled away, he said, “I’m going to walk you out.”

“You might need to put on more clothes, Nureyev,” Juno said with a suggestive lilt, running a hand down Nureyev’s naked torso teasingly. He delighted in Nureyev’s shiver, pressing another kiss to his throat, aiming higher so his lips teased just below Nureyev’s jaw.

“No, my dear detective, I’ll be walking you out my way,” Nureyev replied, shuddering again.

“And that means…?” Juno prompted, keeping his mouth pressed to the thief’s heated skin.

“You will be on your comms, and I will coordinate looping camera footage while I direct you through your escape,” Nureyev elaborated, and the excited tone to his voice brought a smile to Juno’s face. “The cab I’ve called will meet you where the stairway lets out on the street.”

Juno stood up to finish adjusting his dress, shifting the draping fabric to cover his front more securely. He made a mental note to give Nureyev a proper lecture about using knives on his underthings later.

“Sounds kinda fun. I’m game,” Juno eventually said, sitting down to put his boots back on.

Nureyev smiled and winked playfully at him. “That’s only partially why I want to do this.”

“Your other reasons?” Juno asked.

“I want to see how well we can work together, first of all,” Nureyev replied and then gave Juno a suggestive smile, showing off his teeth. “I also enjoy bossing you around a bit.”

Juno scoffed, even as heat flooded through him. Standing up, he crossed the distance to Nureyev and bent to give Nureyev a soft kiss. The thief sighed and lifted his hands to hold the back of Juno’s head gently, opening up for Juno’s tongue.

“Don’t get used to it,” Juno teased as he pulled away and stood back up. Putting his comms in his ear, he walked over to the door. “Let’s do this then.”

“Alright, love,” Nureyev began with a grin. “Down the hall to the left there is a door to the stairwell on the right. Once you’re on the landing, call me.”

Juno saluted, resolutely ignoring the curl of heat in his gut at the commanding tone. “Got it,” he said, hoping it sounded steadier than he felt.

Nureyev smirked knowingly. “Go no further than the landing though, Juno,” he added, the firmness in his tone hardening. “Can you manage that for me?”

Juno felt his face grow hot and bit his cheek, nodding quickly. Not trusting himself to speak, he muttered a quick mm-hmm and turned fully toward the door.

“Juno,” Nureyev chastised lightly, and Juno dropped his forehead against the door.

“Yes, Nureyev, I can manage it,” he said, his voice a bit strained.

“Good girl,” Nureyev said, and Juno could hear the smirk in his voice at his shudder. “Let’s begin then.”

Juno quickly stepped out into the halway, leaning back against the door to take a deep breath. His pulse was jumping, with excitement about what they had done and what they were about to do, anxiety and anticipation for the heist to come. A grin overtook him, and Juno had to work not to laugh a bit out loud.

With that, he hurried down the hall, and slipped into the stairwell, already halfway through dialling Nureyev’s comms by the time he opened the door.

“Excellent work thus far, darling,” Nureyev purred as he answered.

“Knock it off,” Juno grumbled, smiling. “We have work to do.”

“Knock what off, dear detective?” he asked, sounding excessively innocent.

“You know what I mean,” Juno replied.

Nureyev sighed, and Juno could hear his eye-roll. “Fine, we can do this the boring way for the sensitive detective,” he complained and Juno snorted.

It went smoothly from there, Juno stopping and going all the way down the stairwell according to Nureyev’s directions. Soon enough, Juno found himself pushing through a door and out onto the street. Parked at the curb, there was a cab waiting, the driver barely blinking at Juno’s sudden appearance before he opened the back door.

“Mr Dahlia Rose?” the cabby confirmed as Juno stepped closer.

“That’s me,” he said with a laugh, and then into his commes, “Thank’s Duke, I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

Nureyev chuckled warmly, and Juno felt something pull in his chest. “Of course, my love,” he said softly, making Juno’s heart stutter. “I wouldn’t miss breakfast for the world.”

The comms beeped as Juno disconnected, and he gave the cabby his address as he slid into the backseat.

The drive was quiet, disturbed only by the sound of the cabby’s radio, leaving Juno to his thoughts. Juno looked out the window, watching Hyperion City roll by with a wistful smile.

He’d had an amazing evening, even with the emotional argument with Nureyev in the middle of it. Juno felt his chest squeeze as he thought about it, biting his lip as he leaned against the window. He thought about Nureyev saying “my love” all evening, about the feeling of Nureyev’s body under his as he dozed, about the quiet confession regarding the death of the man who made him.

“Stay the night?”

The memory of that quiet, vulnerable question, the hope that filled Nureyev’s tone, struck Juno in the chest. With sudden, intense clarity, he knew he would never be able to write the night off as a casual fling. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, given that Juno knew going into it that he was completely disinterested in sex unless his heart was in it. Juno didn’t do ‘flings.’

Juno knew he was in love with the thief, no matter how stupid that was, and for the brief seconds before the fear and heartach could catch up, he felt overwhelmed with joy.

“I do not want to retire, and I cannot retire to Mars, my love.”

Remembering that felt like a solid punch to the gut. Unshed tears stung his eyes and Juno hated himself for them. He knew the entire time that Nureyev would be leaving. He knew he wouldn’t get to keep him.

The cab stopped outside his apartment, and the cabby shook his head when Juno went to transfer the creds.

“No need. Mr Rose has already paid the fare and tip,” the cabby said, smiling at Juno’s indignant expression.

“Of course he did,” Juno grumbled but still transferred the creds. “Take it.”

“Uh, Mr Rose insisted—”

“Take the money, it’s a tip,” Juno said sternly, and slid out as the cabby thanked him profusely.

Approaching the front door of his and Benten’s apartment, he was relieved to see that there were no lights on inside. Juno didn’t want to deal with Benten while he was so close to crying and his lipstick was smeared across his cheek.

Once he was inside, he worked on getting his boots off, the first one having him curse under his breath as he struggled to untie it. Juno was exhausted and sore, and he just wanted to go to bed.

The tears welled up too quickly for Juno to blink them away, and he pulled off his eyepatch before he really started crying.

The light from the kitchen clicked on, startling a small shriek out of Juno.

“Do you have any idea what time it is, young lady?” Benten shouted, his tone teasing, but Juno was not in the mood for it.

“Har har, Ben. That’s super hilarious and not old at all,” Juno grumbled, trying to keep his tone light as he struggled with his boots, pointedly keeping his back turned toward his brother.

Of course, Benten could easily hear the barely restrained distress in Juno’s voice and he could hear Benten crossing the living room. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked.

Juno was frantic in his fight with his boots, needing to get them off so he could hide in the bathroom and get cleaned up. He couldn’t let Benten see him like that, especially not after what they had talked about before his night out.

By the time Juno had gotten free of this first boot, Benten was close enough to catch a glimpse of his messed up make-up and the hickeys on his shoulder and neck. Worst of all, he could see Juno’s unshed tears and Benten was instantly angry.

“Juno, what the fuck—”

“I know, Benten, I fucked up,” Juno said quickly, and he finally got the second boot off and hurried off to the bathroom. He locked himself inside, and when Benten began knocking, Juno shouted, “Go away, Benten! I honestly don’t need your lecture right now!”

“Lecture?” Benten asked, sounding legitimately confused and pausing long enough for Juno to answer.

However, Juno chose to try to ignore his brother, taking out a washcloth and wetting it to try and wash the make-up off. At Juno’s silence, Benten resumed his assault on the door.

“Did he hurt you?” Benten demanded, and Juno was completely thrown off by the question.

“What? No, Benten, I’m fine!” he replied, flinching when his voice cracked a bit. It didn’t sound convincing at all.

“Juno, seriously get out here! I will hunt him down right now and kill him if—”

Juno flung the bathroom door back open and dodged Benten’s fist, which was mid-knock. His brother was wild-eyed, looking so worried, and suddenly he understood his brother’s concern.

“It’s fine, Ben, seriously,” Juno insisted, grabbing Benten’s shoulders. “He didn’t— it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Juno, you’re crying—”

“I know! I know. Seriously, he was great, he was nice, he was just…” Juno trailed off, unsure of what to say to make Benten leave him alone about it. Juno knew what he looked like, what they discussed before his Not Date with Nureyev, and what it all meant in the long run. “It was fine.”

Benten did not look convinced. “You’re upset. It can’t be fine—”

“Yes, I”m upset!” Juno burst out with an explosive sigh, shaking his head. There was no point denying it, and he wasn’t getting out of the discussion before bed. “If you’re going to insist on doing this tonight, then help me with my make-up. I’m not talking about it while I look like this, and this lipstick is terrible.”

Benten crossed his arms with a frown before rolling his eyes. “Fine, go get out of that dress and meet me in the living room,” he said, turning away to head to the kitchen.

Juno got changed quickly, shivering at the soreness already settling in his hips, thighs, and ass. He knew he was going to be feeling it in the morning, but he didn’t regret a moment of that evening, even with how broken his heart was.

When Juno left his room, he found Benten set up with a tub of coconut oil, a few washcloths, and a bowl of water. There were also two separate pints of ice cream set off to the side on the coffee table and a stream playing quietly on the monitor.

“Ben,” Juno grumbled at the special treatment, sitting down heavily.

“Nuh-uh, Juno. You’re not going to bed like this,” Benten said sternly, warming up the coconut oil in his hands and smearing it over Juno’s face, particularly on his lips and eyes. “You know you can’t go to bed upset. I heard you in the bathroom the other day or whenever that was, by the way.”

“Sorry,” Juno mumbled, embarrassed that Benten had not only heard him, but was bringing it up at all.

“Why the hell are you apologizing to me?” Benten asked, pulling his hands away from Juno’s face to wipe them clean on one of the washcloths. “I said all of that shit to you, let you go to bed upset, and didn’t stick around to make sure you were okay the next morning. That was super shitty of me.”

“Ben—”

“No, shut up. Just this once, let someone else take the blame,” Benten interrupted, picking up another cloth and wetting it a bit. As he began wiping the oil off of Juno’s face, he sighed. “So. What happened?”

Juno actually let out a laugh at that and gestured vaguely at himself. “Well, he took me out to dinner, then we went back to his hotel room, and then I’m pretty sure you can guess what happened after that,” Juno said, trying to be as vague as possible about it.

Benten pulled back and dropped the hand holding the washcloth into his lap. “What does that mean, Juno?” he asked, but it was obvious he knew exactly what Juno had meant.

“We went back to his hotel to talk,” Juno said, blushing hotly when Benten raised his eyebrow at him. “And then we did, uh, a bit more than talking. And then a lot more than talking.”

“We had one rule! Which you agreed to!” Benten scolded, throwing the washcloth onto the coffee table.

“I know,” Juno said with a weak nod.

“It was ‘absolutely do not sleep with the criminal!’ And I even thought it would be easy for you to manage!” Benten continued, grabbing one of the pints of ice cream open and digging into it.

“Yeah, Ben, I remember,” Juno said miserably, grabbing his own ice cream and starting in on it a bit slower.

“And you still slept with him?”

“Yeup,” Juno replied sadly.

Benten made a disgusted noise, almost a gag, and said, “The man put an entire sandwich in his pocket, Juno.”

Juno frowned at him. “He didn’t have the pockets on while we fucked, Ben.”

Benten made another disgusted noise and fell quiet, silently fuming into his ice cream. Then he gasped. “What about the Chastity Thong? Between it and the harness, you were supposed to stop and think!” he insisted.

Juno rolled his eyes. “First of all, the harness just got him really excited, and second of all, I did stop to think,” Juno said, smiling smugly at Benten’s disgusted face. “But then Rex… cut the thong… off of me.”

Benten’s eyes widened. “Like, with scissors?”

Juno smirked at his brother. “With a knife.”

There were several moments of Benten just spluttering. “Wait, let me get this straight,” he finally said, his voice full of indignant shock. “Not only did you fuck a criminal, but you let his knife near your lady bits?”

“The knife didn’t get anywhere near my lady bits, Ben,” Juno replied, and he couldn’t quite keep the wistful note out of his voice.

“And you sound disappointed about that!” Benten cried, horrified by this revelation, and Juno couldn’t pass up the opportunity to mess with his brother.

“So what if I am?” Juno asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Eugh, gross, I’m suing for damages,” Benten whined, glaring while Juno laughed.

After a while, Benten sighed and began mostly picking at his ice cream. “Joking aside, you don’t do casual,” he said softly, and Juno laughed humourlessly. “Like, I know how you’re very much about… needing those intense romantic feelings to get things going like that.”

Juno nodded, biting the inside of his cheek as tears welled back up. “Yeup.”

“And… you slept with him,” Benten continued slowly.

“Yeup,” he confirmed, laughing a bit.

“So… is he, like, staying then?” Benten asked.

“Nope,” Juno huffed, lifting a hand to wipe away a tear that was about to fall.

“Juno…” Benten started, but let himself trail off.

“It was so impulsive,” Juno elaborated, sadly shovelling some ice cream into his mouth. He let the ice cream melt before he said, “I just… I wanted to have whatever I could get, even if I couldn’t keep it, you know?”

Benten was quiet for a long time before pulling Juno into a tight hug, which Juno was more than happy to accept. With some adjusting, Benten got the two of them snuggled under a pile of blankets on the couch, their legs tangled and shoulders touching, leaning their heads together as they worked on their ice cream.

“I really know how to pick’em, huh?” Juno asked eventually.

Benten hummed a bit. “I mean, I hate him, but he seems to really care about you, and he is hot, so I mean, other than the whole criminal and leaving thing, you didn’t do too bad.”

Juno snorted. “Seriously? You hate him?”

“‘Course I do, Juno. He wants to mess around with my brother! I mean, it’s been a struggle to hate him since his obvious disgust at seeing me at that gala, but you know…” Benten trailed off before he asked, “So, you had a good time?”

Juno smiled, his face feeling hot again. “Yeah, dinner was great,” he said a bit wistfully. “Rex took me to that super fancy place, Rouge-something.”

Benten tensed. “Isn’t that where…?”

“Diamond proposed? Yeah,” Juno said with a sigh, smiling down at his ice cream. “But it was fine. It was… it was really nice.”

Juno finished his ice cream, and put the container down on the coffee table. He snuggled into the blankets and relaxed against Benten’s side even more. After a few minutes of quiet between them, he asked, “Why is it always like this for me?”

“Hm?” Benten hummed curiously around a mouthful of his ice cream and Juno shrugged.

“The more I want something, the more the universe does to fuck it up for me,” he answered, and it sounded pathetic to his own ears, and humiliation flooded him when Benten sighed.

“Do you want me to be honest with you, or just let you feel sorry for yourself?” he asked, and Juno let out a bark of laughter.

“Would my answer actually change what you were planning to do?” Juno asked.

“Nope!” Benten said cheerfully and took a deep breath. “Juno, you ignore red flags like it’s your job. You think the flags are decoration, a feature and not a bug. You’re famous for it!”

Juno scoffed before sitting up to face Benten. “And you don’t?”

“Shut up, this isn’t about me, it’s about you,” Benten snapped, glaring. “Listen, you pegged him—”

“He actually pegged me—”

“Ew, shut up, I’m being serious and you’re being gross,” Benten said with a cringe. “You figured him out the instant you saw him. You knew he was bad news, and you knew he would leave since day one.”

Juno glared a bit but he couldn’t actually argue it.

Benten’s face and tone softened as he said, “So, it’s a lot less of the universe ‘ruining’ things and more just… the universe operating as normal.”

“Hmph,” was all Juno said before snuggling deeper into the blankets against Benten’s side.

“I just… really like Rex, Ben,” he confessed quietly, and sighed when Benten rested his cheek on the top of his head.

“He told you his name, then?” Benten asked, and Juno furrowed his brow, wondering if he slipped up somehow.

“Yeah, he told me everything, why— how did you know?” Juno asked.

“I remember you saying something about not calling him ‘Rex’ until you knew his actual name or something like that,” Benten said with a chuckle. “It was super dramatic, and I approved even if I called you an idiot about it.”

Juno laughed a bit and rolled his eyes. “Then yes, he told me his name, and no, I won’t tell you,” Juno said quickly, knowing that was going to be his next question.

For a bit, Benten just pouted into his ice cream until he smirked, meeting Juno’s gaze. “So… does he have an ass?”

Juno groaned loudly. “Goddamn it, Ben, seriously?”

Ben shrugged, scooping up the last big spoonful of his ice cream into his mouth and tossing the empty container onto the coffee table. “It’s a yesh’r no quesh’in, Juno,” he mumbled around the ice cream in his mouth.

“Ass isn’t all there is, Ben,” Juno said, and realizing that was enough of an answer on it’s own, he quickly added, “And it’s not like I really saw him from behind much!”

“Ah, so it’s just as I thought,” Benten hummed, nodding sagely. “No ass. Tragic.”

“Not confirming that assumption, but even if he did lack certain… assets,” Juno started with a sly smirk. “He more than makes up for with his amazing cock—”

“Oh! Gross!” Benten gagged pushing Juno away. “Both the terrible pun and the image of him fucking you in my head. Disgusting. I’m suing for damages!”

Juno laughed just before a huge yawn overtook him. “Can we finish this in the morning? I’m really tired.”

“Yeah, we can do that, Juno,” Benten said, his tone fond and Juno couldn’t help but smile..

With that, the two of them dozed off together on the couch, Juno’s head on his brother’s shoulder, and Benten’s arms wrapped loosely around him.

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#the penumbra podcast #the penumbra fanfic #junoverse #juno steel #jupeter #bittersweet #gerry writes #full fic

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ernmark · 4 years

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Juno Steel and the Tools of Rust (pt 1) Reaction

This episode was a really great one.

Also, this episode is a microcosm of this show’s affect on me: things have been really rough for me lately, but when I started listening to it I was immediately drawn in, and it gave me so much to think about and connect to and feel for. This episode was so much of what I needed at this moment in my life.

Beyond that, spoilers under the cut.

There’s a lot for me to talk about, to the point that I’ve got a notepad next to my laptop for subjects that I feel will need posts of their own later on.

But let’s start with Jet.

Holy shit, Jet Siquliak.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

I was in platonic love with him already, when he was this beautiful giant of a man who is patient and quiet and wise and gentle and wonderful. And now we’ve seen inside his head, and I didn’t even know I could love him so much.

Because he’s not patient because it’s his personality, he’s patient because he works really, really hard at it. He’s quiet because he’s making an effort to listen and be mindful. He’s wise because he’s done some shit and he’s hit some serious lows and he’s grown and regretted and learned from it all. He’s gentle because he knows exactly how destructive and cruel he can be, and he has made the choice to do otherwise.

I’m so glad he’s got Rita around, because I want to hug this man a thousand times.

That piece of wisdom, he shared? That takes on a thousand times greater significance now:

JACKET: We may look backwards only to ensure we have not come this way before. (Soul of the People)

God, he’s had a lot to look back on.

This is a man who was a serious, serious addict, it sounds like. And now he doesn’t use anymore. Not even caffeine.

JACKET: It means I am thirsty. It is large because I am very thirsty, and decaffeinated because I have a predisposition to addictive— (Time Gone By)

And despite that, he was working as a bartender during Time Gone By. Not just being in the same room as some serious drink, but actively handling it and mixing it and everything. I know not everyone’s recovery is the same, but I’ve heard enough people talk about theirs that I know that’s no mean feat.

And not just in the lighthouse, but on the Carte Blanche, Buddy talks about both herself and Juno taking liberally from their supplies, and Jet flatly assures her that he’s not partaking. It’s implied that they’re talking about alcohol (maybe that’s the only thing she can really consume for calories?), maybe it’s coffee, who knows, but she’s concerned and non-judgmental, and he’s steadfast.

Seeing that man that we know-- even if we didn’t know him nearly so well-- as he used to be? The Unnatural Disaster? That chilled me to the bone. That hysterical laughter, that intensity in his voice, that utter glee at the thought of mass murder.

And he’s still haunted by it. He refuses to be any part of that, even slightly, but it’s still there, and still a part of him, and he’s got to work with it and fight against it every day.

And right now Rita’s going to help him with it.

Let’s talk about her, shall we?

Because Buddy knew exactly what she was doing, just like she knew what she was doing when she put Juno in a shiny ballgown and had Peter pretend to be his husband.

Because Rita has the patience of a saint, but also she’s got fifteen years experience dealing with Juno and all his mood swings, all his self-destruction, all his angry outbursts, all his enemies, and even beyond that, she’s incredibly competent and interested.

She’s an incredible stabilizing element. She’s seen it all before, and she’s not going to judge, she’s not going to get mad, she’s not going to be weird about it. She’s going to be gentle when she needs to be, but otherwise she’s going to just be Rita.

And this episode really brings it home: she knew Jet’s name the instant she heard it. He was the clear subject of not one but two streams, at least one of which involved him committing mass murder.

And her reaction right away was “and I’m RIIIIIITA!” over and over again, and then she gets on Jet’s bike with Juno. “If she was scared,” Juno tells us, “She didn’t show it.”

The first time she shows any sign of fear is when he takes her and Juno to an empty stretch of desert in the middle of nowhere, and not unreasonably so:

RITA: You, uh, ain't gonna kill us, Mista Jet, are you? Cuz it would be really super easy to right now, there ain't any witnesses and all that, and-- (Soul Of The People)

And then the ship lands and she gets on it anyway.

And when she digs deeper into him, she doesn’t see a killer who might revert back at any moment. She sees him as so fundamentally different from who he once was. He’s not like that anymore. She acknowledges and understands the worst of a person, but still chooses to see the best in them, even during a backslide.

When he slams a door or breaks a reactor, she knows exactly what he’s capable of doing to her. And yeah, you can hear some trepidation in her voice. But she doesn’t run. She’s still right there, soothing him. Talking him through it, bit by bit. When he fucks up completely, she assures him it’s wonderful timing that it got broken while they’re still able to resupply. When he starts stalling, she eases him back into motion.

She is really, really good at bad mental health days.

And Buddy knew this would be a bad mental health day. She warned Jet ahead of time that this mission was going to be full of triggers. She gave him time to figure himself out, she gave him space, and then when he started self-isolating, she sent him back inside to do simple mechanical tasks with the one person who’s most qualified to help him through this patch.

It’s just really nice.

I’ve also spoken in the past about the shape of this season, and I think we’re finally starting to see that shape unfold.

We’ve now got Juno, who’s finally left behind Hyperion City, dealt with his mother and the death of his brother, and decided to work on his depression.

We’ve got Peter, who thought he could freeze himself in one state of being forever (”in glass”, if you will) and finally decides to be a part of his own future, starting with all those things he’s filed away.

We’ve got Jet, who’s so frightened of his past self that he gives it its own name and cages it behind a calm facade.

We’ve got Buddy and Vespa, both of them legends, one imprisoned and one enslaved, neither of them the woman they used to be.

We’ve got Rita, who’s so mysterious she doesn’t even let Juno speak her name aloud.

And yes, that means I sincerely believe we’re going to get POV episodes from Buddy, Vespa, and Rita before the season’s end, and I am absolutely thrilled.

Beyond that: we’ve got Nova Zolotovna, who was rendered unrecognizable by a magnificent haircut.

We’ve got our current mark (I don’t trust myself to spell their name without a script in front of me), who seems to be trying to change, too.

Hell, even Dark Matters seems to be in a period of transition.

Right now we’re all about transformation, about coming to terms with the past and allowing yourself to be grow and change beyond it.

That’s just so cool, you guys.

#the penumbra podcast #100

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mollymauk-teafleak · 4 years

Text

baby, you’re like lightning in a bottle (chapter four)

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4

Huge thanks to my beta readers, @spiky-lesbian and @minky-for-short! And a massive thanks for all your patience in me getting this chapter up, turns out teaching during a pandemic is uh time consuming

Please reblog and leave a comment on Ao3 if you’d like to support me!

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Peter sat and looked at the cursor blinking on the comms screen. It’s incessant, rapid blinking seemed to line up with his own guilty heartbeat.

His report had been due for half an hour. Another hour and Mag would terminate the entire mission, assuming he’d been compromised and their goal, their planet’s freedom, would be set back who knew how long. Peter knew that and still, he was sitting here, with no idea what to write.

He even came back to the apartment five minutes after the report should have been sent off though he hadn’t even realised until he was sitting on his cot, looking at the screen. Five minutes, five whole minutes, more time than he’d ever allowed himself to make such a mistake in his entire life. Five minutes that, a day ago, would have had him cursing himself for a failure. Not fit to walk in his father’s footsteps.

But tonight, he had just sat there and stared at the blinking display, feeling nothing. And now, with more precious seconds ticking away, he still hadn’t the first clue how he was going to explain himself. He just sat cross legged, feeling numb in the fingertips as the realisation sunk in that he’d left part of himself behind without even knowing it.

It would be so easy to blame Juno Steel. After school, he’d invited Peter to come along with them to the park, just to hang out, that was all, but the fact that it had been him doing the inviting rather than his brother had pulled the yes out of Peter’s mouth before any more sensible part of his brain could interject. It would be easy to blame him for how long he’d stayed too, far past what he’d originally intended. Because every time Peter had thought he should be making excuses, Juno had seemed to choose that moment to smile at him, or challenge him to climb the next tree, or take a drag on his cigarette and exhale long and low in that way that fascinated Peter so much. There had always been the way his eyes looked in the quickly gathering sunset, the way he leaned back against the tree trunks when they’d all made camp in the field that sat at the centre of Halcyon Park, his rasping, barking laugh when Ben would do or say something funny or Mick would be oblivious about something obvious. There had always been another reason to stay, another thing that had led to this hole in who he’d thought he’d been. A hole that was five minutes wide and had rendered him numb.

It would be so easy to blame Juno for tonight and every other day where Peter had been feeling this way, forgetting why he was here and forgetting his mission. But he knew the blame was on him.

Because he was the one who was falling in love.

Those words didn’t sit easily in his mind but there was no denying the truth of them now they were there. With changing his face, his name, his life so often, Peter always tried to know himself completely, mostly out of fear that he’d eventually lose what was really Peter Nureyev if he didn’t. And he knew that he was in love with Juno Steel.

As inconvenient as that was.

He would choose Brahma. Of course he would. He’d worked far too hard, suffered and lost far too much to let something like this derail him. What was this compared to what his father had died for, what Mag had been sacrificing?

What has his own silly heart compared to all that?

With that decided, Peter tapped out his report, going into a kind of autopilot as he gripped the guilty feeling with both hands and made himself feel it’s low, shameful burn, like grabbing barbed wire. Mission proceeding. Target will be accessible beginning next week. Holding steady until then. Apologies for the delay.

As if to hammer home how foolish he’d been, Mag’s reply came almost instantly, barely a minute after his own had disappeared from the screen to be scrambled, broken, reassembled hundreds of times over in the expanse of space so it couldn’t be traced.

Don’t scare me like that again. Look after yourself.

Peter winced and stuffed the comms back into his bag, turning onto his side to face the wall. Two more days. Then he could do his job, go back to Brahma with his broken heart in his chest and remember who he was.

And hopefully he would have at least learned something.

Peter tried to keep himself at a distance over the next two days which smacked of far too little far too late but at least he could tell his guilty heart that he was doing something. He didn’t participate in conversation as much as he had, he professed to having a lot of homework when they asked him to hang out with them after school, he told himself that the disappointment he saw hidden behind their expressions didn’t bother him.

But it was the change in Juno that made it almost too difficult to bear. Peter had never really felt anything like this before, let alone having it reciprocated so he didn’t know how much he was just flattering himself or letting his brain run away with its own fantasies. But there did seem to be something different in how Juno was when Peter was around.

He was still grumpy and surly, apparently that was his natural state of being, but he certainly wasn’t outwardly hostile since Peter had broken a nose for him. They were certainly friends now; he was part of The Oldtown Gang, as Mick seemed determined to dub them despite everyone in said gang refusing to go along with him. Juno sat next to him when they spent lunchtimes at their camp, he’d ask him if he needed any help in the classes that were supposed to be new to Ransom. Sometimes it felt like he didn’t really need to be sitting quite so close to Peter as they’d sit in their circle and trade jokes and insults back and forth. Sometimes Peter felt like Juno’s eyes were on him, like he was studying his face for something, but when Peter would look, Juno would just be staring at his class notes. Some smiles that Peter caught felt like maybe they’d been meant just for him.

But Peter told himself he was being a fool. Well, even more of a fool than he already was being by falling for Juno in the first place. But to imagine that he could actually be feeling anything similar was just a form of self torture. Even if there was a chance anything more than one sided could grow between them, wouldn’t he rather not know? It was already going to hurt enough as it was.

So Peter retreated inside himself a little, going through the motions of a normal day, barely paying attention as they lazed around in their makeshift hammocks and Ben talked excitedly about the overnight field trip they were apparently going on to Olympus City. At least until he felt everyone else’s eyes on him.

“Sorry, what?” he blinked, blushing a little under the look Ben was giving him, something knowing in it putting him on guard.

“I said it’s just going to be you and Juno over the weekend,” Benten hummed, swinging his legs, outwardly innocent but the teasing note was still in his voice, “You’ll have to promise to keep my brother out of trouble.”

“You’re not going?” Peter looked to Juno, who was giving his twin a warning look.

“Didn’t feel like spending more time than I had to with the assholes we call classmates,” he answered shortly, in the kind of way that suggested there had been another reason that he certainly wasn’t about to give up.

Peter didn’t need too much of his observation skills, after so long being friends with the Steel twins and knowing enough about the average situation of Hyperion High students, to guess that there had only been enough in their family’s funds to send one of them on the trip and that Juno had feigned disinterest so Benten could have it. He wondered how many times it had come down to that, how much Juno pretended not to care so his brother could afford to.

“Maybe you two could go to the movies or something,” Sasha said placidly, earning herself a scandalised ‘whose side are you on?’ glare from Juno, “Peter’s hardly seen any of Hyperion. And what he has seen isn’t exactly a glowing endorsement of the place.”

“If you can find me something that is, I’d love to hear it,” Juno scowled.

“Aw but sneaking into the movies is so fun! And Peter would be so good at it, they’d never catch him,” Mick agreed, prompting Ben to rest his head against his shoulder and regard Juno with a poorly concealed smugness.

“I’ve never been to the movies…” Peter said quietly, before mentally kicking himself. Do you want to be crying your way back to Brahma on Monday night?

Juno’s scowl deepened and his cheeks flushed, voice rising more than it needed to, “Look, I have plans with someone, alright? I’m busy. So maybe stop sticking your noses in for five seconds?”

There was an awkward silence as he sank back in his seat. Mick and Sasha sent quick pitying looks in Peter's direction, who pretended he didn’t see them as he stared at his hands like all of this wasn’t happening around him. He didn’t care. Why should he care? Benzaiten shrugged like that was the end of it but he was giving Juno a look that was impossible to read.

And Juno just looked everywhere but at Peter.

“Anyone catch the game last night?” Mick put in after a few agonising moments, his affable obliviousness always good for bulling past awkward situations, “‘Cos I didn’t, I realised ten minutes before the end that I was watching football rather than baseball, I was hoping one of you guys got the score…”

“Mick, it’s a completely different shape of ball, how the hell did you manage that…”

“Leave him alone, it’s hard to tell from a distance, right babe?”

First rule of thieving, Peter thought miserably, sinking deeper into himself while his friends continued on around him, bad decisions will always come back and bite you in the ass. So when one does, know you deserve it.

Peter sat in the middle of the bare, empty apartment and organised his roll of lock picking tools. Doing that always calmed him down and it had been a dull, frustrating Saturday otherwise. Just hours and hours of going through the same plans and schematics he’d memorised months ago, showing his path from the fence to one of the first story windows to the principal’s office to the server room to an entirely different window. In and out inside of fifteen minutes, enter with a flash drive full of malware, leave with it full of proof that New Kinshasa and a number of other corrupt outer world governments were laundering money through Martian construction contracts just like the one that had built this school. He’d done far more complex heists than this but with such lower stakes.

And with his back up slightly closer than across the galaxy.

First rule of thieving, there is no room for nervousness, if you can find some room then you should fill it with more planning.

With the outside world grey, cold and full of thin SimRain, there was little else to do. His takeout dinner arriving had been the only highlight in his day and now an equally dull night had settled in.

So he took out the thin silver lockpicks from their sewn in pockets and cleaned them fastidiously, one by one, making sure each type was in it’s exact place. They were a little bit of a novelty, in this age of bioprinting and retina scanners, but they were still called for on occasion and Mag had drilled it into him that no self respecting thief would be caught without the classics on hand. And besides, their comfortable, familiar weight strapped to his chest was reassuring. Like he could never fail as long as he had them close, precisely placed and polished until they shone.

The knock at the door was so unexpected, so sudden, that he slopped his cup of tea on the carpet, a few dark brown stains soaking in. Good thing he wouldn’t be trying to collect any security deposit.

He slid the plasma knife out of its sheath, pressing himself against the door with a cold, almost serene focus. He wasn’t expecting any visitors, his food had arrived hours ago. Which meant either the person outside his apartment right now was an innocent, mistaken bystander and would go after a few minutes of silence.

Or they weren’t. And more than tea would be getting spilled.

The knock came again and Peter tensed, his grip on the knife tightening. Had he made a mistake? Had one of his reports been traced despite their precautions? Had they found a flaw in his fake records? Either way, his breathing stayed shallow and steady as the seconds ticked by.

Another knock. And then a voice, rough and tired and very familiar.

“Ransom? You in there? Damn it, I was sure this was the right number…”

The knife disappeared quickly, “Juno?”

“Oh! Hi...um, hi Ransom...sorry, Ben gave me your address. Can I come in?”

Peter looked around his apartment, wincing. Explaining its state was going to be uncomfortable, it couldn’t look more like the hideout of a sleeper agent than if he’d hung a sign to that effect. But Juno sounded so lost…

He did what he could in the space of two seconds, emptying out his neatly packed suitcase and spreading the clothes around like he imagined most teenage boys did, hiding the papers under a half heartedly done homework sheet. The pile of unwashed mugs in the sink and takeout containers he hadn’t gotten around to throwing away yet helped.

“Yeah,” he called then, only just remembering to kick his tool roll out of sight, “Come in.”

Juno had a face to match his tone of voice. There were dark shadows under his eyes that had nothing to do with any eyeshadow, in fact he wasn’t wearing a smudge of makeup on him for the first time Peter had known. He wasn’t dressed in his usual way either, in an oversized t-shirt and pyjama pants with a loud cartoon pattern, the same little robot figure from the first shirt he’d seen him in. He just looked exhausted, wrung out and worn down, his lips turned down at the ends. He looked like someone who needed some comfort.

“Is...is everything okay?” Peter tried not to make Juno’s distress sound as obvious as it was.

It hadn’t been enough, Juno’s eyes were dark with shame as he stared down at his own sneakered feet and Peter’s slippered ones, “Look, I’m sorry I’m showing up like this. It’s not okay, especially since I...um...anyway, I’m sorry.”

Peter swallowed, “It’s okay. What’s wrong?”

“I had a big fight with Ma,” Juno admitted, a tremor running through his voice, “She...she kicked me out. And with everyone out of town, I don’t have anywhere else to go. You’ve got every right to tell me to fuck off but...can I stay here?”

Juno and Benten had never said much about their mother. All Peter had been able to surmise, from his observations, was that she was their only parent and there was a huge weight around both twin’s necks because of her. He hadn’t pressed on the nature of it, he had no right to, and it wasn’t going to be any different than it was for so many kids in Oldtown. And more than a fair few on Brahma.

“Of course, Juno,” Peter said gently, stepping to one side, “Of course, stay as long as you need to.”

Juno mumbled a thanks as he stepped past him. If he found the lack of couch, stream screen, any kitchen appliances aside from a kettle or sign that this place was lived in at all strange, then clearly he felt he owed Peter enough not to say anything.

“Want some tea?” Peter asked, relocking the door, “I already ate but we could go get you something…”

“No, it’s okay,” Juno said quickly, “I’m asking enough of you as it is.”

Peter sat on his cot and sighed, “Juno, you’re my friend. I’m not going to hold every nicety over your head and present you with a receipt when you leave. I want to help you so just...let me?”

After a pause, Juno chuckled, the sound rough and raw in his throat but it was real. He slumped down on the floor next to the cot, leaning back against it so his head rested close to Peter’s knee, and sighed heavily.

“You know, there’s three people on the whole planet who don’t take my bullshit. My ma, my brother and you. But you’re the only person I like hearing it from.”

Peter smiled, though the pace of his heartbeat had increased a little. Juno was so close he could smell the shampoo in his curls from the shower he must have been having that evening.

“Benzaiten did ask me to keep you out of trouble. Checking your bullshit falls under that, I think.”

Something in Juno’s expression grew thin and the exhaustion showed through from underneath. There was enough of a pause that Peter wasn’t sure he was going to speak but then he did.

“It’s never as bad when Ben’s there. Me and her, I mean. It’s like he’s a buffer, stops things getting so nasty. He shouldn’t have to do it, I hate that he’s had to, but… it’s damn effective. With him gone, things just...they got out of hand so fast.”

Peter nodded slowly. He and Mag had their fair share of blow out arguments too, not that it had ever escalated to him being kicked out. Mag would never do that, he knew what having no roof over his head would mean to his protege, but he certainly knew what it was like to have said things you didn’t know could come from your mouth in the heat of the moment.

“Has she done this before? Put you out?”

“Yeah...sometimes with a reason. Sometimes not.”

“There’s never a good reason to do that,” Peter’s voice was more leaden than he’d intended but it was the voice of someone who’d been a child, promised protection by the world, but left out in the cold, “She’s an adult and you aren’t.”

Juno looked at him, clearly curious but he let it go after a moment, picking at his own wound instead, “If I’m not back in her good books by Monday, it’ll be a whole thing with Ben, he’ll feel bad about going…”

“You do this a lot for him, don’t you?” Peter asked softly, “Protect him. Pretend to not care about things so he can afford to.”

Juno shrugged heavily, gnawing on one fingernail covered in chipped polish, “What else am I good for?”

There was so much Peter could have said in that moment, answers that came rushing up to the tip of his tongue, some that surprised even him. But they’d start a conversation he really didn’t want to have, with Juno and with himself. So instead he just murmured, “Lots of things.”

Juno looked at him, something genuinely fearful in his eyes, like he knew exactly what Peter was holding back.

“Um...I think I will have some tea. If it’s still alright with you. Damn cold outside.”

“Of course!” Peter scrambled up and practically fled to the kitchen. It was hard to say which boy was the more relieved.

Peter could cope without a lot of amenities when he went out on jobs. First rule of thieving, never care about more than what you can carry in your pockets. But the first thing he’d bought when he’d gone on one of his short, necessity driven runs to the grocery store (a different one every time of course and dodging the cameras so he couldn’t be traced) was a box of good, high quality tea. He didn’t like coffee much, hated the tremble it put in his hands that could cost him his life in some circumstances, but he’d gotten a taste for tea very early on in his time with Mag. In fact, it had been the first thing his mentor had done, when he’d brought the scrawny, skittish, terrified young boy back to his home. He’d put a steaming, sugar laced mug in his hands that it had made it so much easier to believe him when he’d said everything was going to be alright.

He couldn’t give Juno much to ease his pain right now but there was some pride to be found in gladly giving him one of his few little parcels of sweet smelling, caffeine laced comfort. That much he could do.

Juno thanked him, hugging the mug close to his chest and pulling his knees in. Nureyev sat back on the cot, folding his legs underneath him and pulling the blanket over his knees. It was getting cold, he’d been right about that.

After a few moments and a few sips, Juno sighed and said without much surprise, “You don’t have a dad, do you, Ransom?”

Immediately, his shoulders tensed, well aware that he had absolutely no evidence to refute that accusation. And absolutely no back up explanation to speak of.

“Well…” he began awkwardly, very unused to having no way out of a situation.

“It’s okay,” Juno chuckled dryly, taking another drink, “I pretty much figured you were taking care of yourself over here.”

Peter swallowed hard, hand itching around the knuckles. The plasma knife he’d hurriedly shoved back in the holster suddenly felt very heavy, not that he was even going to consider that. He was also not going to think about what Mag would do, what he would urge Peter to do, what rules he would use to make Juno’s life seem a small price to pay for the mission. The same rules he’d saved himself with.

“Honestly, it’s impressive.”

Peter froze, “I...what?”

Juno’s cheeks seemed to colour a little and he could have been smiling into his cup as he sipped, “You’re here trying to make something of yourself. Trying to get an education and switch up the shitty hand you got dealt. Granted, you picked a terrible place to do it but...you’re trying. And that’s more than I’ve ever seen anyone do.”

“Trying…” Peter tried to keep his voice steady, “Yes. I’ve often thought that’s all a person can do.”

Juno nodded slowly, leaning back. His head was now leaning against Peter’s knee, enough that he could feel the damp of his hair, the comforting weight of him. He seemed so relaxed, so casual about it all, but Peter felt as if electrical shocks were sparking between them. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so close to someone, had someone touch him in such a friendly way, such simple, easy contact. Only since he’d come to Mars. Only since he’d met Juno.

For some reason, he felt absurdly guilty. He should be relieved, his disguise had survived even under Juno’s scrutiny who, Peter was beginning to think, was one of the most annoyingly observant people he’d ever met. But in his stomach was just a yawning hollow, a sad kind of emptiness. Like he’d have actually been relieved if Juno had looked him straight in the eye and seen who he really was.

Like he was tired of lying to him.

“Hey,” Juno grunted, his voice sounding further away than it had, “There’s another party on Monday night when everyone’s back. You’re coming, right?”

Peter’s throat tightened. On Monday night, he’d be going back to Brahma, back under the glare of the lasers, back in the fight. Ransom would be gone, a few lines of information that winked out of existence as if they had never been, more than dead. That was the plan.

“Yeah,” he nodded, hand moving over to lightly stroke through Juno’s curls. He’d seen Ben do that on a few occasions and it seemed to comfort him, “That sounds good.”

Juno seemed to tense a little under the touch though only for an instant, as if he hadn’t expected it. But then it was gone and he was leaning into Peter’s hand gratefully, like it was everything he’d needed in that moment. His hair was so soft, winding through his fingers in tight curls that opened for him, parted like waves. The world shrank down to just the points where Peter’s skin met Juno’s, like that simple contact was all that held the universe in one piece. He didn’t feel the weight of a planet’s survival on his shoulders, he didn’t feel like a revolutionary before he’d even had the chance to feel like a person, he didn’t feel the questions he couldn’t ask like bitter metal resting on his tongue.

In that moment, this was all he had to do. He had to be there for someone else, just one other scared, sad kid like him.

“Thanks for letting me in, Ransom,” Juno murmured softly, his voice a contented rumble in his chest.

“I’d rather you call me Peter,” he replied, after a pause where he begged himself not to.

“Hm? Oh, sure. No problem, Peter.”

It wasn’t the name he wanted to hear from Juno’s lips but it was close enough. It wasn’t a lie, at least.

“You should sleep now,” he murmured, before his throat closed too tight to mask, “It’s late and you’ve had a long night.”

“Oh I can just stay down here,” Juno said quickly, opening one golden brown eye. Clearly he was seeing that there weren’t many other options. No couch, no chair, not even so much as a rug.

Just Peter’s cot, the one he was currently sat on. Well, if I’m destroying myself, I may as well do a thorough job.

“Don’t be an idiot,” he rolled his eyes like it was no big deal, holding out a hand to him, “Climb up.”

Juno blinked then shrugged, allowing himself to be tugged onto the hellishly uncomfortable little camping bed. It took a lot of awkward maneuvering to get both of them settled, there was barely enough room for one person, let alone two. By the time it was all done, they were nose to nose, limbs in a tangle.

Juno was the first to break, snorting, “God, I’m sorry, I feel like I’ve skipped about seven friendship levels…”

“Well, I did break someone’s nose for you,” Peter grunted, trying to shift so Juno’s knee was no longer pressing against his stomach, “Surely that grants me some higher access. Just pretend I’m one of the people you’re courting…”

Juno stared at him for a moment before breaking into helpless barks of laughter that threatened to upend their precarious little arrangement.

“What?” Peter demanded, flushing pink.

“Sorry, sorry, it's just...god, courting. I don’t think I’ve ever courted anyone in my damn life. Probably no one has since, like, the 1800s or whatever…” Juno cackled.

“I’ve changed my mind. You can go back on the floor.”

“Nuh uh!” Juno suddenly wrapped both his arms around Peter’s middle, holding them fast, “No take backs now!”

Peter was so glad he had something to blame the colour of his cheeks on, especially when Juno managed to get a hold of himself and chuckled, “God, you’re so cute…”

“Shut up and go to sleep,” he muttered quickly, trying to sound annoyed.

Juno did, apparently thinking it more comfortable to just stay with his arms around Peter, resting his head on his stomach. They were still for a few moments as their breath slowed and evened out, as the exhaustion clearly caught up with Juno as he realised he truly did have somewhere he could rest and know he was safe.

With whatever consciousness he had left, he mumbled, “I mean it, Peter. I really needed a friend tonight and you came through. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Peter whispered back but Juno was asleep before he was halfway through, his body getting heavier as his muscles relaxed and he gave himself over.

All we can do is try.

It wasn’t a rule but in that moment, as he lay in the darkness and listened to Juno Steel snore softly, it made more sense to Peter than anything he’d ever been told.

Before he could think, before he could realise what he was doing, he dug his comms out of his pocket and tapped out a message to the only number he’d ever used on this thing.

Plans have to be delayed. Security concerns. Tuesday instead. Apologies.

He sent it quickly, watching the text disappear, leaving him with a dark reflection of his own face on the empty screen. What have you done?

Before any reply could come through, he tossed the comms to the floor, rolling over as much as he could, enough to bury his face in Juno’s hair. He smelled of damp and clean shampoo, coconut and clean towels and night air. A honest, planetside scent.

He knew the guilt was coming, building up in his chest, ready to burn him from the inside out. But there was a whole night in between then, to cling to Juno and imagine a future he could never have, a morning where he would open his eyes and the first thing he’d see would be Juno Steel and remember that he’d done a good thing. He’d been there for someone when they’d needed him.

Like he said, if he was going to torture himself, Peter Nureyev was going to do it thoroughly. After all, what was he if he wasn’t good at his job?

#jupeter #juno steel #peter nureyev #high school au #tpp #penumbra podcast #the penumbra fanfic #please reblog and comment!#benzaiten steel #mick mercury #benmick

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listentometalkaboutmorebooks · 4 years

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you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid

Friday nights are the worst.

Look, shout at me all you want, but you clearly haven’t worked the closing shift in a late-night bar before. Drunk people are the worst, especially when they know they have two more days ahead of them to get even drunker. And yeah, I am including myself in that number.

The only thing worse than Friday nights are Saturdays, because by then everyone has stopped drinking to celebrate and started to drink to forget. I got out of that shift by the skin on my teeth, but fate is a double-edged sword, and I got stuck with Fridays instead. Hey, beggars can’t be choosers, I guess.

One thing going for Fridays is that you don’t get bothered a whole lot. The sad drunks won’t come out of their dens until the next night, so all you get is the noise of people with their friends and families. Great time to work on hobbies. Knitted a whole scarf one shift. And so when someone walks in, alone, and doesn’t immediately gravitate towards a table? My attention is piqued.

The stranger sits down at the bar, looking at the seat like he’d rather have put a towel down first. I walk over without being called.

As I move closer, the lights shift, throwing his face into sharp contrast.

Shit. He’s really hot.

He wears an easy grin, the kind you can only get from years of practice. His eyes dart around almost like he’s searching for an escape route, but the rest of his body doesn’t betray any intention to bolt. He’s calm, collected, relaxed… Well, as much as he can be in this loud ass bar. His hands are long and slender, impeccably manicured fingers folded in front of him, sharp teeth poking over his lip, black hair slicked back carefully. It looks like he could kill you and never dislodge even a hair. And honestly… It made me wonder what else he could do without getting ruffled, if you catch my meaning.

“What can I help with you tonight, sir?” I ask, shaking myself out of my thoughts as I prop myself up on the bar by my elbows.

“Ah, good evening. I’ll have your finest scotch, neat.” His voice matches the rest of him, polished and posh. It makes me shiver.

“Celebrating something, are we?” I tease, turning to pour him his drink.

“One could say that.”

“Huh, very mysterious. Where’s your partner? Guy like you has gotta have one.” Okay, so what if I’m being a little forward? He’s either single or he isn’t, better to find out before I go getting attached.

He just winks at me. “What’s your name, darling?”

“Juno Steel. And yours?”

“A gorgeous name for a gorgeous lady, if you don’t mind my cliche. I’m Peter Nureyev.” He grins, showing off those… really sharp teeth. I’d noticed before, but damn… A second too late, I hold out a hand for him to shake. My chipped nail polish looks childish next to his dangerous-looking manicure, but I’m too distracted by his strong grip to lose any sleep over it.

“Where are you from, then, Peter Nureyev?” I hum, pulling a stool around the bar so I can sit opposite him.

“Oh, a bit of everywhere. I’ve never settled down anywhere for too long, three months maximum. Although, here seems quite a bit nicer than most of my other stops.”

“So, what are you running from?”

“Bold of you to assume I’m not the one chasing.”

I raise my eyebrows, impressed, and drop the subject. He might be hot, but I still don’t want to end up on his kill list. He seems like he might actually do it.

“Tell me, Juno, what do you think of Hyperion? Should I finally settle down?”

“Eesh, Hyperion City isn’t most people’s first choice for a relaxing retirement. Sure, it looks all shiny and new, but soon as you get close something tries to stab you.”

“I can deal with stabbings. I’ve had experience.” Nureyev smirks, wrinkling his nose at me teasingly. I can’t tell if he’s kidding or not…

“I don’t doubt it…”

“But you seem to enjoy it, since you live here?” He says, backtracking over the stabbings like it was a normal thing to say.

“What, you’ve never gotten stuck somewhere? I was born here, and I guess I just got sucked in. I’ve had this job since I was 20.” I scoff, absently wiping away a drop of water and tossing the towel over my shoulder.

“I guess you’re right. How old are you now, then?”

“It’s rude to ask a lady’s age, Nureyev. You seem like someone who should know that…”

Down the bar, someone waves to get my attention. I look over, and it’s a gaggle of drunk girls. They can stand to wait another few minutes, right?

“My apologies, dear.” He follows my gaze and sees them too. “I don’t mean to take up too much of your time, Juno, no matter how pleasant your company…”

“You’re not taking my time, I’m giving it.” I tell him, standing up and unwinding my apron from around my waist. “I’m going on break!” I yell to the back room, not really caring whether they heard me or not. A minute later, I’m sitting in the seat next to him. He’s tall, taller than he seemed from behind the bar. His legs are all folded up under him.

“Hello there.” Peter teases, finishing his drink and setting it down in front of him. “Terrible time for you to go on break, really.”

“Shut up. And hey, you never answered my question about your partner!”

“Well, that’s why I’m here tonight, actually. I just ended a five year relationship.” Nureyev says, grinning.

“Uhh. I’m… Sorry?”

“Don’t be. I’ve been needing to make that decision for a while now, honestly.” He sighs, that permanent knowing smile settling back onto his face. He really doesn’t seem upset about this at all…

“Why did you end it? If it’s not too personal.”

“You’ve already gotten pretty personal with me tonight, darling, it’s not like this crosses a line. I ended it simply because she was so… Bland. All her decisions were made for her, she was just told where to spend her money and then she did. I’m also fairly certain she was cheating on me. A lot. She wasn’t really even trying to hide it…”

“Jesus, Nureyev… That really sucks.” I wince, patting his arm very awkwardly. How the hell do you comfort people, and why is he now laughing at me?!

“Juno, it’s alright!” He chuckles, covering my hand with his own. “She was only in it for the drama. We met at a charity auction and she told me she loved me the same night. Onstage, in front of everyone. I have to admit, one of the only reasons I stuck it out as long as I did was because she truly was very lenient with her money…”

“Oh. Good?” I’m not sure what to say here. “I know a thing or two about bad relationships, so I get where you’re coming from. My last partner… You don’t want to hear it. That’s a story for another day, I think.” I shake my head.

“You say that as if we’ll see each other again, sweetheart.”

“Well, would you like to see each other again?” I ask, cocking a brow.

“I thought you’d never ask! Although next time, why don’t we try and find sometime when you’re not supposed to be working, hm?” He adds, and I look past him to see a mess of people at the bar. Looks like they didn’t send out anyone to replace me…

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Nureyev, I should probably go back to work. Like I said, I’ve had this job since I was 20 and I have no interest in losing it now.” I wince, throwing my apron back on and rounding the bar once more.

“I can wait until your shift is done…?” He asks, sliding a finger over the rim of his glass and looking up at me through hooded eyes. How the hell do you say no to that?

“I’m done at 12.” I reply, pouring him another drink without even thinking about it before moving on to the rest of the mob.

True to his word, he stays until the bar closes, and conveniently forgets to pay his tab.

God, he’s lucky he’s hot.

#the penumbra podcast #fanfiction #jupeter #peter nureyev/juno steel

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princegabriel · 4 years

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@lilyistryingherbest requested Chained to a Bed with someone on the Carte Blanche or Damien. Of course, I picked Juno “Listen, when you get tied up as often as I do” Steel. Thank you for the prompt! @badthingshappenbingo

Snare

by princegabriel/ FaintlyMacabre

Rated: M

Characters: Juno Steel, Peter Nureyev, Jet Sikuliaq, Vespa Ilkay, Rita, Original character

Summary: If, for whatever reason, you were to ask Juno Steel, he would tell you that no, seduction was not his wheelhouse. If he were feeling chatty, he'd probably tell you, without much exaggeration, that back on Mars, a night out had an even chance of ending in a bar fight as in a hookup. He was abrasive, and brash, and naturally unpleasant.

But under certain circumstances, he can give it a shot. It just may not go as planned.

CW: This one’s kind of a doozy. (Under the cut)

Dubious consent—I'd describe it as uninformed consent on the part of one character, and unenthusiastic consent on the part of the other. Both are deciding to do what they're doing under their own steam, but for sketchy reasons. Also, as part of the plan, Juno drugs the antagonist to knock him out so he'll be out of the way for their heist. I didn't write sexual assault, but Juno experiences a loss of control that he definitely does not want to be experiencing, and panics as a result. The feeling/themes are similar, so if that's a no-go, totally get it, turn back now, take care of yourself! Also, alcohol, references to murder, and canon-typical quippy tone (may be jarring to some readers, given the subject matter).

---

If, for whatever reason, you were to ask me, I’d tell you that no, I’m not exactly a natural seductress. (Also, never ask me that. It’d be weird.) I’m not the type of lady who can charm my way into someone’s bed or even their good graces. I’ve got just enough charisma to be annoying.

Again, don’t ask me. But you know who maybe should have?

Buddy Aurinko.

Maybe if she had, I wouldn’t be lying here, chained to a bed in an unexpectedly swanky hotel room, but really, it wouldn't be fair to put all the blame on Buddy. Let me start at the beginning. My name’s Juno Steel. I was a private eye, who was a cop, who became a thief, and if most of the people I left behind in Hyperion City could see where my life has taken me, they wouldn’t bat an eye. Or if they did, the eye they batted would be mine.

Our crew's on a "relocation" mission to a little satellite hotel orbiting Pluto. The creep who runs this place is kind of a hoarder, and his is the kind of hotel where dreams (and, according to rumor, the occasional interspace traveler) go to die. The job was basically show up, rob a terrible person, get out of dodge. There was just one thing I didn’t like about this plan.

“Remind me why I’m doing this again?” I leaned back against the high top table, holding a drink like a lifeline in one hand and fighting the urge to push away the hair covering my eyepatch with the other.

“It’s because you’re so incredibly charming, love.” I jumped a little. That wasn’t the voice I’d expected to hear.

“Ransom?” I hissed. “Where’s Buddy?”

“Not happy to hear my voice, Juno?” The question was all tease and no hurt. “The captain thought I could use some practice working behind the scenes.”

Well, I knew what that meant. “So, you got bored?”

“When I have you to worry about?” Nureyev quipped. “You’ll forgive me my caution; you do have such a talent for getting into trouble.”

“Which brings me back around to my question.”

“You are playing this role because both Buddy and Ransom are wanted by the Plutonian government, and because the rest of us are unsuited to this kind of undercover work.”

“Big Guy! When did you connect to this line?” I'd nearly choked on my drink when Jet’s voice had rumbled into my head.

“I have been connected this whole time, since I dropped you off.”

“And you didn’t think to say anything?”

“There was nothing to say,” Jet said. “Talking would only have been a distraction.”

“You must admit, you do fit the profile of our mark’s usual type,” Nureyev said. I didn’t have to admit any such thing, but I knew. Osric Salazar, multi-millionaire, hotelier and general misanthropist, liked his partners more rough than refined, more sour than sweet; in the slinky dress that showed off a fair number of my scars and holding a double shot of whiskey that was threatening to vanish into thin air, I fit the type pretty neatly. It was maybe the only thing I’d ever fit into neatly in my life.

“Yeah, yeah, the role was made for me,” I said over the glass. “The part I’m not thrilled about is where I’m the bait.”

“'Bait' is such a strong word, dear,” Nureyev said. “This is really more of a honeypot job.” His voice sounded neutral, but carefully so. To anyone else, I'm sure he would have sounded genuinely calm, but there was something in his diction that made me think he was less assured than he let on.

“Well, either way, I’m pretty much just a piece of meat on a string—”

“The target is approaching on your three o’clock,” Jet cut in. “Do not turn quickly; it appears he is trying to stay in your blind spot.”

I made myself sip at the drink and lean on the table as though I wasn’t about to be ambushed.

“Don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before.” The voice was like honey over coffee grounds, and I probably would have liked it if it hadn’t belonged to the owner of this... fine establishment. The Renegade’s Arms was just far enough from everywhere that people only went there when they had nowhere else to be and just enough of a dive that it wasn’t frequented by anyone rich or flashy enough for people to make a fuss if they vanished.

“There’s a first time for everything,” I said, refusing to turn and look.

“Let’s hope there’s a second one, too.” Salazar walked around the table and into my field of vision, but… a little higher. He was a wall of a person, reminding me of Pilot Pereyra, who’d used their intimidating size and demeanor to cow every would-be opponent into submission for years as mayor. I hoped it would be easier to exploit Salazar’s weakness than it had Pereyra’s; that walk in the desert had been no walk in the park.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I said, and ignored the rise of Salazar’s eyebrows as I knocked the rest of my drink back. “You gonna buy a lady a drink?”

“Oh, sugar, it’s on the house.” I tried not to flinch at the hand that Salazar planted on my back, which steered me the short distance to the bar. “Another?”

“Whiskey, neat,” I said, setting the empty glass down on the bar.

“Make it a double,” Salazar told the bartender. “Top shelf.” The bartender nodded and once again, all the bastard’s attention was on me. Great.

“So, what’s a pretty lady like you doing in a place like mine?” Salazar purred. The sound sent chills down my spine, but definitely not in the way Salazar intended. Well, probably.

“Currently, getting drunk for free,” I said. “So, thanks for that.”

“I’d take it as a personal offense to find out that a gorgeous creature like you would ever have to buy his own drinks.”

“If you wait there, I can give you a whole list of people I know who’ve personally offended you,” I said.

“Gorgeous and funny,” Salazar said, looking me up and down in a way that made me want to wash with sandpaper.

I did the next best thing and downed my drink. “Thirsty, too.” Salazar raised a hand and gestured to the bartender, who got me another. “So this is your place?”

“I haven’t exactly made it a secret,” he said, looming closer.

“I hear people do small talk,” I said, “you know, early in their acquaintance.”

“So you’re sticking around?” Salazar said. He was even closer now, and he smelled aggressively like mint and aftershave. It wasn’t terrible, and everything was going according to plan, but knowing who this person was, I felt kind of queasy about it. In my earpiece, barely audible, Nureyev huffed out a short, sharp breath.

“Not like I got anywhere else to go.” I looked down into my drink while I said it, trying to look like like I wasn't angling for anything more than a bed for the night and someone to help me keep it warm.

“I wish I were sorry to hear that,” he said, practically in my ear. “But really, the way I see it? Whoever you’re running from, their loss is my gain.”

I turned to look at him again and all I saw was teeth. I couldn’t help but recall the first time I’d seen Nureyev, when he was just Rex Glass to me, and the smile that looked like he could rip me apart, easy and natural as breathing. This was different. Salazar’s teeth were big and blunt, like tombstones; it would take him some work to tear into you and he’d enjoy it.

Hopefully he’d take my focus on his mouth as interest rather than self-preservation.

I’d told Buddy I was all right to kiss a mark if the job demanded it, and I was. I’d told her I was all right to do more than that if I knew about the possibility beforehand, though hopefully in this case the neurotoxin-laden lipstick I was wearing would do its job before that became an option. Nureyev and I had talked about it—we were both coming at this with our separate and collective baggage, but honestly, I’d thought it would be a harder conversation to have. We decided that if it was the best plan we had and if whoever was on the job was comfortable, it was all aboveboard.

When Salazar pushed the door to his apartment closed and then pushed me up against it to kiss me, though, I couldn’t think of anything but Nureyev on the other side of my earpiece. If he was still there. I definitely wouldn’t blame him if he’d decided to hand it off to someone else.

Salazar kissed like he was fighting, and I grabbed the collar of his shirt so I’d be ready if it swung in that direction. One of his hands slid up my thigh, taking the hem of the dress with it. I stopped him when he got to my hip.

“Not,” I said against his mouth, “doing this against the door.” At the very least, the farther into his apartment we went, the longer he’d be distracted. And it gave the lipstick a few extra seconds to work. Salazar was a big guy, it might take a bit.

The bed was in the next room. It was big, covered in a rich-looking comforter and sheets that probably had some kind of thread count, with a huge ornate headboard, from which hung a—Jesus Christ. He had a pair of cuffs threaded through it. I was starting to rethink the door.

I didn’t get a real good look at it after that because Salazar spun me around and walked me back until my knees hit the edge of the bed. He climbed over me, biting and sucking at my neck, and I had a moment to just hope this lipstick was as unlikely to re-transfer as Buddy said it was, before I felt his teeth moving up to my ear. The ear with the earpiece. The earpiece I was using to stay in contact with my fellow crewmembers for the purpose of robbing the person who was currently getting real familiar with my earlobe.

“Hey, uh, no,” I said, like a professional, “my earring—”

“Oh,” he said, pulling back, and I tried not to sigh with relief. “Let me get that for you.” And he fucking took it off. The only positive side to the situation was that it really was a gorgeous ear cuff with a hidden wireless transmitter and he didn’t seem to suspect. He put it on the bedside table and picked up where he left off. And I thought, “Maybe it’ll be fine, maybe they won’t need to contact me for a while, maybe they get what they need and I sneak out while he’s unconscious and that’s that, job well—” A siren cut off the “done.”

Salazar sighed, hot on my neck. “I hate to leave you here, gorgeous—”

“Then don’t,” I said.

He shook his head. “Nothing else for it.”

“Uh, hey, but wait,” I said. “If the fire alarm’s going off, shouldn’t I be getting out of here too?”

“It’s not the fire alarm,” he said, getting up and smoothing out his clothes. “It’s the burglar alarm.”

Yeah, I’d been afraid of that. “Okay, well, if there are dangerous burglars around, maybe I don’t want to be a sitting duck.”

“Oh, if that’s what you’re worried about, darlin’, don’t be.” He came back and I thought for a second that it had worked, turned out I was pretty good at distractions after all. He took my hands and kissed me, and yeah, I actually felt kind of smug about my performance right up until the cuffs closed around my wrists.

“What,” I said.

“Didn’t want to bring these into play so soon, but we adapt, don’t we, sugar?” he said, with a fucking wink. “I can’t have you running off before I get back. Don’t worry, I’ll lock you up safe as houses.” I wished a house would fall on him.

He took a handgun out of a drawer, waved at me without looking back, and then he was gone. I heard the click of two locks, and that was the last I saw of Salazar.

So now you’re all caught up.

I wait a few seconds before turning my head in the direction of my removed earpiece and saying, “Hey, he cuffed me to the bed, get me out of here.” I have no way of knowing if anyone is responding, or even if they can hear me at all. All I have is this dress, a pair of stupid strappy heels (what is it with Buddy and putting me in six-inch heels?), and zero arm mobility. Well, not quite zero. I look up at the headboard. It isn’t metal, at least, but it doesn’t look cheap either. It’s either wood or painted to look like it, and if it is paint, it's been expertly applied, which points to good quality. If Nureyev were here, he’d have a lockpick in his sleeve or metal-tipped nails or something useful, but he’s not, so I pull myself up to sit against the headboard and start scraping the chain against the back of it to try to wear through.

“That alarm’s still going,” I say through gritted teeth as I try to saw through the headboard. I hope they can hear me, but even if they can’t, it helps to think they might. “Means Salazar's probably knocked out, definitely hasn’t resolved the situation, so I guess you’re still holding your own. In case you’re done before I get out of these, I’m in Salazar’s quarters, the door past the stairs, in the second room. Two locks on the door.” The cuffs are chafing my wrists, but I just clench my fists and try to go faster. “God I hope you get here soon, this is the least efficient way to get out of this but it’s all I’ve got.” The alarm shuts off and instinctively, I stop moving. It’s too quiet to move.

“Damn it, whoever’s listening, say something!” I hiss. I’m getting uncomfortably close to panic. “Yell, come on, just say something!” I feel trapped in these shoes and this dress and these fucking handcuffs and so I start moving again, pulling the chain forward like I could break clean through the damn headboard. It doesn’t work, just like I know it won’t, but I can’t do anything else. I can’t do anything. I can’t do this. I can’t do this.

In the quiet, I hear the locks click and I freeze again. If it’s Salazar… he might suspect I’m part of this. Is he coming back to kill me? I get my legs over the side of the bed just for solid ground underneath me, the smallest illusion of control. It puts my arms at an even more uncomfortable angle, but they were never going to do me any good here anyway.

I can’t hear footsteps, and I don't know what the hell that means. I feel myself start to spiral again until I see Vespa in the doorway with a duffel bag.

“Oh, thank god.” Should have known—of course the assassin’s not going to make a sound. I’m sure I’d feel weirder about her seeing me like this if I weren’t so relieved.

“Where’s the key?” she says, looking right, left, up, right again, checking for… security cameras, maybe?

“I don’t know!” I say. I feel like my body hasn’t caught up to my brain, which hasn’t caught up to my mouth. Adrenaline is still rushing through me—it couldn’t shut itself off the instant I knew I was saved, but I’ve apparently started to autopilot into our usual dynamic. “He didn’t exactly give me a tour. ‘Hey, just to be on the safe side, here’s the key to the cuffs I just surprised you with, also I’m definitely not going to murder you—’”

“Shut up, Steel,” she mutters. She’s already got the drawer of the little side table open and there’s the key. I guess it’s not something he really has to hide. In a second, my wrists are free. “Come on, Sikuliaq’s got the car running.”

I grab the ear cuff and slide it back into place while we get out of there.

“Mistah Steel oh my god please don’t be dead or hurt, say something please,” Rita’s sobbing into my ear.

“Let's go, Steel," Vespa whispers over her shoulder. I nod and let my eye focus on the green shock of her hair to follow her out as I turn my attention back to Rita before I worry her into an early grave.

“Rita,” I say, “Rita, I’m okay. I’m out. Vespa got me.”

“Boss?” she says, sniffling. “That you?”

“It’s me,” I say. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

“Only I could hear you and I was trying to tell you Mistah Jet and Miss Vespa were on their way and you didn’t answer and you sounded so scared—”

Yeah, I don’t want to think about that right now. “I’m okay. We’re headed back to you.” Vespa's taking us out the fire exit, in the opposite direction of the guest area, and there's Jet, just like she said. We get in the backseat and drive away into the night as the last of my adrenaline gives up the ghost and I let the now-familiar smell of the car ground me.

I'm okay. I'm going home.

#bad things happen bingo #the penumbra podcast #juno steel #peter nureyev #jet siquliak #vespa ilkay #rita penumbra

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mourn-not-for-the-owl · 4 years

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the mysterious escapologist- jupeter

star sapphire, a famed escapologist cloaked in mystery and glitter, and his 'just assistant' juno steel, stage name topaz, take to a stage of hyperion city to wow the audience with star's glamour and showmanship. but what happens when the show doesn't quite go as expected?

read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24405628

“now introducing the great escapologist star sapphire and his glamorous assistant, topaz!”

i hide a snort at that as the curtain rises to rousing applause. glamorous? as if. sure, the name ‘topaz’ does fit that description, but plain juno steel, that name’s owner, really doesn’t. not like star sapphire. of course, that’s not his real name, but he’s so cloaked in mystery it might as well be.

“hello, hyperion city!” i jump, hearing my cue, and stride onstage, flicking back the skirt of my golden gown. personally, i think it’s a little excessive, and i’ve never been that huge a fan of gold, but once star said he liked me in gold, so i’ve been wearing it every performance since. he probably hasn’t noticed, but i keep finding myself picking up a gold dress before every performance. i let my mind wander back to the moment star told me that as i introduce the trick, which involves chaining star into a water tank, and pull the handcuffs he’ll be using out of my dress. i refocus as i attach the handcuffs- these ones are tricky, and it’s easy to chain them up wrong. it’s also harder to escape them, but all the locks are the same- star likes a specific style of locks which look sleeker but break and malfunction much easier. i then lead star to the tank and help him in, whispering a quiet ‘good luck’ in his ear before attaching the chains and resuming my place at the front of the stage. “timer,” i call to the main stagehand, who presses something so the timer flashes up on the wall. i watch star escape like it’s the first time i’ve seen it, and it takes me a while to realise that something is wrong.

star is the best escapologist i’ve ever seen, and i know this is taking too long. the locks must have jammed. my heart in my throat, i feel like i’m about to pass out. star’s going to die. the medic, who’s been on standby for every show, inches closer to the stage. star’s going to die. the timer ticks dangerously further and further. star’s going to die he can’t die i haven’t told him he can’t he can’t-

the timer reaches four minutes.

star is going to die.

i can’t bear to watch, but the fearful gasps and murmurs tell me he’s still under. the medic steps onto the edge of the stage. star is going to die. the audience gasp louder. someone screams in… relief?

the tank slams open.

i dare to look over.

star.

a showman to the end, star stands, dripping with water from his once-neat hair to his expensive black and gold suit, in the tank, arms outstretched.

alive.

i scramble up the stairs and lead star to the front of the stage. he links our hands and throws the up in the air to applause like we’ve never heard before. i squeeze star’s hand as if confirming that he is really beside me, and he squeezes back as the curtain falls.

when the curtain falls, a stagehand whisks star away to change into something dry, and i make my own way back to my dressing room to prepare for after-show drinks at some nearby bar none of us are classy enough to be in without the cloak of our jobs. i decide, on some impulse with no origin i can think of, to head to the stage instead of straight to the exit. the impulse turns out to be right, as, sitting on the edge of the stage, now covered in glitter, is star.

“hey,” i start, flopping down beside star, who jumps when he sees me. “hello, juno,” he sighs back. “something wrong?” i ask. star sighs again, still staring into space, then turns his intense, dark eyes on me. “i can’t believe i messed up that escape so badly- it was so easy! am i just too old to be doing this job?” swallowing a comment on the fact that star can’t be more than about thirty-three, i place a hand on his shoulder. “c’mon, star. you know there’s nobody better than you when it comes to this. the problem earlier was with those locks you insist on using, not you! if anything, you saved the trick. nobody else could’ve styled that out better than you did!” star laughs softly, then leans in so my arm is properly around him. “thank you, juno. and, i’ve been meaning to say it all night, but you look incredible in that dress.” i feel myself blush as i avert my eyes from star’s own. “you know i only wear gold because you told me that you liked it once, right?” i admit. star laughs again. “i noticed that, but convinced myself that you didn’t care enough about my opinion to change your wardrobe around it.” i meet star’s eyes. “of course i do. i… i love you, star.”

“i love you too, juno. and… it’s nureyev. peter nureyev. you are the first person to be told my name in decades. i hope i can entrust it to you.” i stare at star- no, nureyev- in shock. “th-thank you, nureyev. you can trust me with your name.” i clear my throat awkwardly, then continue, “would you like to go somewhere with me? like, instead of the afterparty?” i think i’ve overstepped until nureyev smiles and loops his arms around my neck. “wherever you would like to go, juno.” he kisses me, and in that moment i feel, for the first time in years, that maybe this is all worth something. nureyev truly is the kind of person that can change your outlook with a single kiss. and i think i’m the kind of person who would let him.

#the penumbra podcast #junoverse #jupeter #fanfic #owls write #jupeter fic

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hoarding-stories · 4 years

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The new style of poster/title card is neat, I noticed it before but I almost thought it would be a one off. Time for The Long Way Home!

Pt 1

Ah. Where is Jack Takano? Psyche! The asshole is right there!

Where is Juno? Oh, back to Hyperion city

When is Jet going to tell Juno his name

Say thank you Juno

It is your choice

Is he crying?!? :(

Rita is wonderful

Worried about why she didn’t pick up tho

He really does not know how to work technology

It’s not going to be fine

“Old town lockdown” ???? I have a bad feeling about this. A really terrible feeling

“The Old Town Solution” I think the other shoe dropped

Juno’s alone but he’s bringing his friends with him

Nice innuendo Vega

He ran out of Sarah’s material and since he was a hack, he couldn’t write more

The City of the Future, so Polaris Park

Money girl and the subsidiaries?

?!?!?

Rabbit?

A baby! Small Fry!

He was not a hero. That’s for sure

Found the pause button

uh-oh he’s been recognized

Fuck.

So the Theia is a consciousness? I assumed it was just a program but this is worse

Pt 2

Small Fry is adorable

Take her with you Juno! You have a pet now

Hahahaha I was right, Jack’s an absolute piece of shit hack

Big picture people can be terrible

Get him Small Fry

I don’t think it’s broken

Small Fry is better at tech than Juno!

He’s learning!

Jack’s projecting pretty hard onto Andromeda

He has a rather skewed look at what a hero is

Aw Juno once this is over you need to get a pet

Good use of Jet’s advice

“Mista Steel”? Did Rita hack it?!?

Once again, I! Love! Rita!

He apologized!

My heart, these two are too much

Nice point about how interpretation reflects on the interpreter

It really wasn’t a blessing

Uh-Oh

“New Town” The city of terrible names, like come on anything would be better than that.

#my words #penumbra blogging #tpp #tpp spoilers #the penumbra podcast #I halfway didn't think Small Fry was canonical #but i am glad to be wrong #things are about to get real interesting

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blue-mood-blue · 4 years

Text

So that season one finale, huh.

(To preface this - I am brand new to tpp and Juno Steel. By brand new I mean "I started this weekend on a whim and I finished season one last night, oh my god I didn't mean to binge this??" So please no spoilers, and apologies in advance for anything I'm not getting yet/getting wrong for lack of context.)

After recovering from having my heart shattered (I was in denial even when he got to the office to the tune of "oh of course he'd want to see the office again if he's leaving Hyperion City" like the fool that I am), I've been giving a lot of thought to the plan Peter and Juno had for their future. I've been wondering if it would have worked out.

Listen - the two of them exploring the known universe together, happy and finding new adventures? That's everything I want for them. It sounds wonderful and I dearly hope they get that someday. And maybe it could have worked, maybe time to know each other and help each other would have made them stronger.

But I keep coming back to Juno.

I don't think Juno necessarily has a death wish. I do think Juno takes a lot of reckless, dangerous actions - the kind that could get him killed, absolutely, without much hesitation indicating that he's upset by that possibility. There was the pill, and Sasha's test, and of course the bomb. I think that's the way Juno expects to go eventually, inevitably: in a blaze, for some greater good, as a sacrifice. There's a part of me that thinks Juno believes he owes the people of Hyperion City a debt that can only be paid by being buried there, for the crime of his inability to make things right.

The problem is, Juno can run wherever he likes, with whoever he wants to - but he's taking himself along wherever he goes. He can't run away from whatever it is that has him throwing himself on grenades, not even while holding Peter Nureyev's hand. And maybe there would have been less grenades to land on, and maybe Peter would have been enough to help him find the root of that mindset. If he wasn't, though? If they got in trouble again, and Juno is still making himself into the blast shield?

Don't get me wrong - walking out like that was the wrong choice. Juno's conflicted feelings deserved a conversation, and Peter deserved to understand (just like Valles warned Juno about from her own experience). It might not have changed the outcome, but it would have put them on equal footing.

But I don't know if Juno was ready for that step - honestly, I know he wasn't just because he got up and walked away. It's not because Hyperion City is a good place for him to be, it's not because Peter's love isn't enough or that Juno was dishonest when he said he wanted to go with him, it's because Juno needs a firm foundation. Not the city, but grounded by people who love him. By the ability to value himself and forgive himself for whatever shortcoming he sees in himself. Maybe he'll find that in Hyperion, maybe he would have found it several planets away, but until he puts in that work and finds that steady ground, the where wouldn't matter. He'd keep finding the same problems.

I really do hope those two get a second chance at that adventure together, though. I want that for them.

#the penumbra podcast #tpp #juno steel #peter nureyev #i would like them to be happy!#and healthy!#AND I WOULD DEARLY LIKE TO SEE THEM GET ANOTHER CHANCE AT THIS #and i apologize for the length #i have just reached my limit of patience for trying to put a readmore on a mobile post

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thinkingdelicately · 5 years

Link

❤️ cover art: @hemaris

part one: falling in love

sweet disposition / the temper trap

so stay there / ‘cause i’ll be coming over / and while our blood’s still young / it’s so young, it runs / and won’t stop ‘til it’s over / won’t stop to surrender

so i, uh, took him back to my place.

movement / hozier

when you move / i can recall somethin' that's gone from me / when you move / honey, I'm put in awe of somethin' so flawed and free

even his smile is unbefitting for a thief. it’s so naive. with every flicker of feeling, that smile shifts, daring a confident second in the sun, then hiding away behind his lips, then peeking again. you can read a man’s soul with a smile like that, can see his every hope and fear and love.

pink in the night / mitski

i glow pink in the night in my room / i've been blossoming alone over you...and i know i’ve kissed you before / but i didn’t do it right / can i try again try again try again / and again and again and again

you know, juno, call me a fool if you like, but i think i may have fallen in love with you.

run away with me / carly rae jepsen

packing a bag, we're leaving tonight when everyone's sleeping, sleeping / let's run away, i'll run away with you / 'cause you make me feel like i could be driving you all night / and i'll find your lips in the street lights / i wanna be there with you

it could be so simple. you can leave hyperion city behind; i’ll leave my powerful friends behind. we'll sell the mask and live a life of thrills and decadence across the galaxy, always running, never looking back. we could have quite a time together, juno. who knows what kind of trouble we could cause.

fuck em only we know / banks

i know exactly just how many kisses fit between your eyes / i'd run away, i'd run away if you would join with me / oh i could be a little grumpy, but hold on / just wanna tell you that i see you, baby, do you see me?

you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me...you make me feel like maybe it’s all worth it. like maybe there’s something out there worth seeing.

just like heaven / the cure

i'll run away with you...you, soft and only / you lost and lonely / you, strange as angels / dancing in the deepest oceans, twisting in the water / you're just like a dream

his face was lean, but soft, with a cherub's smile and a fox's teeth. he looked like he was happy to see me and like he'd be just as happy to kill me if push came to shove. it wasn't unpleasant, all things considered.

part two: falling apart

gunshot / lykke li

and the shot goes through my head and back / gunshot, can't take it back / my heart cracked, really loved you bad / gunshot, i'll never get you back

i am alone. i will not forget that again.

seasons (waiting on you) / future islands

as it breaks, the summer will warm / but the winter will crave what has gone, will crave what has all gone away / i've been waiting on you

because the future can wait. that is all the future is, in fact: moments in wait, time whose time has not yet come. and in fact, if you are disciplined enough, the future can wait indefinitely.

a little lost / sufjan stevens

oh i'm a little lost without you / that may be an understatement / and i hope your feeling hasn't gone / i hope you need somebody in your life / someone like me / ‘cause i'm so busy, i'm so busy / thinking ‘bout kissing you / i’m so busy, i’m so busy / thinking ‘bout touching you

i said i needed you.

supercut / lorde

so i fall into continents and cars / all the stages and the stars / i turn all of it to just a supercut / 'cause in my head (in my head, i do everything right) / when you call (when you call, i'll forgive and not fight) / because ours (are the moments I play in the dark) / we were wild and fluorescent, come home to my heart

i just keep thinking about that night, and there was this second in the doorway, and it lasted so long i feel like part of me’s still there...

night shift / lucy dacus

i feel no need to forgive but i might as well / but let me kiss your lips so i know how it felt / pay for my coffee and leave before the sun goes down / walk for hours in the dark feeling all hell

walking into the same trap twice...i wouldn’t be here if i had any other options. you got me? (oh, i got you, juno.) that’s what scares me.

pristine / snail mail

i could be anyone but i’m so entwined / and out of everyone / who’s on your mind? / no more changes / i’ll still love you the same

i thought i was done with him, but...i’m not.

no promises / san fermin

hey honey, are you giving up? / hey honey, you look a little tired now / i won't promise you if you follow me around / i won't let you down, i won't let you down / been wandering, who's to say if we'll be found / no promises, no promises

wish i had that much faith in me. feels like you could fix the whole damn galaxy, with someone looking at you that way.

part three: falling together

tattoo / kevin abstract

they say I threw my life away / no shit, I threw my life away...told a lie and i’m sorry / let me make it up at the football game / pick you up in the morning...who was i when i was lonely?

i really want to get better, maybe for the first time in my life...and i'm just so scared that it's too late and everyone’s already smartened up and gone.

come into the water / mitski

i didn't know i had a dream / i didn't know until I saw you / so would you tell me if you want me? / ‘cause i can't move until you show me

you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me...you make me feel like maybe it’s all worth it. like maybe there’s something out there worth seeing.

still into you / paramore

i should be over all the butterflies / but i'm into you, i’m into you / and baby even on our worst nights / i'm into you, i'm into you...yeah after all this time / i'm still into you

it’d take weeks for that smell to fade. i’ve missed it ever since.

don’t delete the kisses / wolf alice

a few days pass since i last saw you / and you have taken over my mind / i'm re-telling jokes you made that made me laugh / pretending that they're mine

he’s been...partnered with a super thief who he finds quite distracting.

if one of us wasn’t so distracting (a vision in gold and light)

do you / spoon

do you want to get understood? / oh, do you want one thing or are you looking for sainthood? / do you run when it's just getting good?

i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. i just keep hurting people one after the other and i just have to think it’s all for something, y’know? it’s all gonna be worth it.

utopia / lykke li

i see the dream in your eyes and i want it / it's burning bright like a fire from a comet / if there's a bomb in your heart i'll disarm it / if you want it then i want it / we could be utopia, utopia

nureyev sleeps deeply, like someone who knows the tomorrow he’s waking up to will be worth showing up for. lying next to him, i feel that way too. and suddenly, desperately, i want to chase a future of that feeling every single day. with him.

show you / baby rose

tell me, baby, how you like me now? / god, i'm hurting for you, there's no easy way out / if i knew then all the things i know now, now / so many things i gotta say, but i wanna show you / so many words get in the way, but i wanna show you

show your heart through your deeds

all in / sun airway

and you think you know me / you know me all right / all in faith, all in good time / once you said you loved me / you never said it twice / all in good faith, all in good time

that name is very nearly my only weakness. and i’m risking it all—here, on you.

sea of love / cat power

come with me my love / to the sea, the sea of love / i wanna tell you how much i love you

i meant every word I said, juno. it will be quite an adventure. i'll be waiting for you to join me.

❤️ i recommend listening in order, but i also recommend living your life ❤️

#my post #this took me way too long to finish #i've had the songs for a while but have been rearranging them & hunting down quotes for the past week #anyway can't wait until pt 2....we love pain!!!#and our two very dumb babes & their crime family #also this artwork still destroys me #we love a queer scifi pieta #ok anyway #jupeter #jupeter playlist #tpp #the penumbra podcast #juno steel #peter nureyev #goobers #sophie and kevin if you're out there pls know you have destroyed me #thepenumbrapodcast #we hyperfixatin

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nureyevv · 5 years

Text

Thirty Seconds

There were many not great things that happened in the first thirty seconds Juno Steel spent back on Mars after trying to leave Hyperion’s worries behind him. The worst thing, though, was that in the time before those thirty seconds, things were good. Peter and him had finally worked things out, finally gotten to a place of stability in their relationship. Were things perfect? Of course not. But each night Juno fell asleep next to the same warm body and woke to the same loving smile he thought that, maybe, he might actually have a forever to look forward too. It was a sentiment he’d lost a long time ago, and wasn’t unhappy to be finding his way back to.

And then thirty seconds hit. Two steps off the ship and the crew was surrounded by the Hyperion City Police Department, blazers angled toward them and ready to fire. They’d dealt with cops before. Juno May have been new to the life of crime but Jet, Vespa, Buddy, and Nureyev all had the mind to get out of scrapes just like this one. By all accounts things should have been fine, and they almost were, until someone spoke.

“Juno?” asked a familiar voice from within the chaos. Had it been anyone else he probably wouldn’t have even noticed. He would have stayed where he was, standing next to Nureyev and waiting for his signal to make their move. This wasn’t anyone though, in their voice he could still imagine his old wedding dress, packed away and out of sight but never truly gone. He’d never been able to bring himself to sell it. After all, he’d never gotten the chance to use it for its intended purpose. Or, at least, he liked to think that he hadn’t. It was a bit of a downer to think he spent all that money for the gown he was going to wear as he sat alone on the altar steps.

“Di—“ he said, forgetting himself and spinning around to face the voice. Peter stiffened at his side, eyes ever focused on the guns aimed at them. His eyes flashed with fear as he moved to grab Juno’s arm, but it was too late. At his right Rita yelled a warning. He couldn’t hear exactly what she’d said, because by then his sudden movement had been enough to startle a shot out of some amateur cop’s pistol.

It hit Juno square in the back and he crumpled at the impact. He’d had enough experience being shot that he was able to put together that the bullet had been set to stun in the split second before the world went dark. Really, though, that knowledge didn’t bring him much comfort, because it was right then that he found the face among the crowd: Diamond, beautiful as the day they left him on their wedding day.

Nureyev was next to lose his composure, or maybe it was Rita. It was hard to tell for sure as he slipped out of consciousness, but they both rushed for him as he fell. Peter seethed like he was only barely restraining himself from not taking each and every one of them out then and there. He was pretty sure Rita yelled something along the lines of, “oh you’re gonna regret hurting the boss— now you’ve got another thing comin, and her names RITA!”

And then he was out cold, long before he ever got the chance to see if the two of them really did end up charging a squadron of officers. He didn’t know if he dreamed, but he was sure even his worst nightmare would be nothing compared to the lecture Buddy would give him when he came to.

—

After that thrilling assortment of particularly unlucky moments, Juno had trouble deciding whether his fortune had really changed when he came to.

Pros and cons: pro, he knew where he was. Con, “where he was” was a Hyperion City holding cell. Pro, he wasn’t alone. Nureyev was to his side, looking tired and a bit less pristine as usual, but alive all the same. Con, Juno had some explaining to do.

He was working on being more open— he owed Peter that after everything they’d been through, after the pain he’d caused. Juno had shared parts of himself he thought he’d never say aloud, and it was terrifying, but it was also really really nice. It made him feel like he might actually have a chance of moving on. That, one day, he might have a future with this man.

Diamond hadn’t even crossed his mind as something to bring up, though. Nureyev knew the basics: he’d been a detective for the HCPD once upon a time, but the corruption had nearly driven him insane. It’d started with late nights at the office, hoping that if he worked hard enough, he might be able to be able to balance out the immoral aspects of the law department with his own dedication. When that wasn’t enough, he started looking into closed cases for signs of malconduct. He’d received a few nasty blows from that stunt. Bad cops didn’t take a liking to him digging around in their business. He’d gotten solid evidence, though, and that made it worth it. When he gave that to the captain it’d be over—they couldn’t dispute hard facts. One by one he’d clear the precinct of criminals wearing badges.

Or, at least, that’s what he thought would happen. He’d been so naive back then.

Across from him, Nureyev stirred, having noticed Juno was awake. His back still ached, so he hadn’t attempted standing, yet. He was sure that Peter noticed this, always observing, and as such had decided to meet Juno where he sat on the cell’s bench. He felt a slender hand caressed his cheek. Juno leaned into the comfort. Dark eyes studied him, and Juno could practically see the question on his face.Nureyev being Nureyev, though, he didn’t pry. Gently, he pulled Juno towards his chest and wrapped him in a warm embrace.

“Are you alright, Juno?” He asked, that familiar vulnerability in his voice that made Juno’s heart jump from his chest. It made him think of how this man holding him, a master of hiding the truth of himself, could so easily trust him everything.

“I should be asking you the same thing,” he murmured into Nureyev’s collar. He soaked in that scent he’d been unable to name all that time ago and had finally come to mean “home.”

“Don’t concern yourself with me-- I’m fine. The question is, are you?”

Was he fine? Juno supposed the short answer was yes, he was still in one piece. Yes, he would live. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to say the words, not when there was so much else that needed to be said. He needed to tell Peter. He hated this feeling that he was keeping something from the man who could be arrested and still only worry about him, if he was hurt, if he needed help.

He thought back to what came after he’d handed in his reports on corrupt officers, trying to recall the important details. “I need to tell you something,” he stammered, pulling away from Nureyev’s embrace to look him in the eye.

“Juno…” Peter began, but he didn’t let him finish.

“No-- I want to tell you. Please.”

Nureyev still looked hesitant for a moment, almost guiltily, as if he’d forced this out of Juno rather than it being his own choice. It was almost funny-- as if Peter could make Juno feel uncomfortable, even if he wanted to. The thief didn’t have that sort of unkindness in him. A moment later, Nureyev’s face relaxed, and he nodded.

So, Juno said what he needed to say.

A few weeks after he turned in his paperwork on what was happening in the office, the reports went missing. He brought it up with anyone who’d listen, but nothing changed. If he was being honest, he sort of started obsessing over it. Rita didn’t bring it up, but she’d been there through all of it and she’d seen just how bad he’d gotten. It was a wonder she hadn’t quit on him, but she wasn’t the only one he’d been close to in those days, and many others weren’t so patient. Diamond, his partner, had a front row seat to the shit show.

For all the bitterness Juno held for them now, he had to admit they had never been a dirty cop. It was why they had worked so well together, both at the precinct and in… well, everything else. By day they did what they thought was right; they kept the city safe. But for Diamond, being a police officer was just a job, a job they enjoyed, yes, but a job all the same. For Juno, on the other hand, his badge controlled his entire life. He didn’t know any other way.

They’d been happy, though, when they were together. Diamond would cook, Juno would burn toast, and then when they got to the office they’d spend the day side by side, trying to make the world a better place. Sure, they weren’t always happy. Juno wasn’t even comfortable, some days, when he’d find himself caught up on something that had happened at work and Diamond would scowl at him for being such a downer. He still remembered the look on their face at dinner one evening when he’d mentioned something about a case that was still bothering him.

“It’s solved. We caught them.”

Juno’s brows had knotted together. “I know, but Di, the witness said the perp used a wrench, not a blaster--”

“Juno,” they’d snapped, and he lost track of whatever it was he was planning to say next. “Drop it.”

So he had. At least, until he was sure Diamond was asleep and he could look through the evidence on his comms without waking them. No relationship was perfect, though. No one had a partner who listened one hundred percent of the time. No one had a partner who was happy to lend an ear to their loved one’s every anxiety. And really, if a person like that did exist, what had Juno done to deserve them?

So they’d gone through the motions. They dated, they moved in together, they got engaged, and they set a date.

Despite it all, Juno really had loved them. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t alone, and that had to count for something.

As their wedding approached Juno became more and more absorbed in his work. A good fiance would have noticed that they were growing apart, but he was so convinced he could change things that it flew right over his head. He didn’t eat, he didn’t sleep. He just worked, all the time, nonstop. He’d insisted they couldn’t ignore him forever, they’d either have to kill him or listen to him, but either way they’d have to do something. And, to their credit, they did do something, it just wasn’t what he’d expected.

They fired him.

Looking back, that must have been the last straw for Diamond. Sure, they’d been reluctant to end it, but it wasn’t like they didn’t know Juno was a mess when he walked down the aisle. It was a small service, most of the guests attendees were people Diamond knew, and Juno had always got the sense that their side of the guest list wasn’t his biggest fan. And yet, with all the warning signs right in front of him, the great detective Juno Steel didn’t suspect a damn thing until Diamond hesitated half way through their vows.

Time stood still for a moment before it shattered.

“Juno. Look, I’m sorry, but I just… I can’t do this. I can’t be afraid that one day you’ll have a melt down and leave me alone.

”When Juno didn’t reply, they rambled onward. “I need stability, someone who will be present, like, actually present. I-- I’m so sorry, really, I am. But I can’t.”

He was sure a lot happened in the time after Diamond left him there, alone in his ridiculous white dress, but honestly all he remembered from the aftermath was feeling empty, like the world dropped out from underneath him. And after that, he remembered going home and sleeping on his own.

Time went on, and he never spoke to his ex fiance again until earlier that day.

Peter listened to him speak, his face like a vault. If he was hurt, it didn’t show. When Juno finally finished, there were a few moments of silence between them, and he felt as if he might suffocate if Nureyev didn’t say something soon.

And then Nureyev reminded him who he was talking to.

He leaned in and pressed hip lipstick stained lips to Juno’s with a kiss that felt like dawn of the morning after the end of the world. Peter’s hand on his cheek pulled him closer and, instinctively, Juno reached for his sleeve, afraid he might slip away. It was warm and safe, but most of all it felt like being loved. He could have lived in that kiss. He could have gone through anything as long as he still had Nureyev’s body up against his.

Of course, it had to end, but Juno didn’t feel like it was an ending. Really, it felt more like a promise, like a beginning. When Peter pulled away there was barely an inch of space between them. Juno could feel his breath on his face when he spoke.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” said those loving lips, “but I cannot honestly say I wish it hadn’t happened. I’m just not that selfless. If it had never happened, I wouldn’t have the best thing in my life. You, Juno.”

There was an intensity in the way he spoke, a fire in his eyes, that made every word ring painfully true. And, of course they did, because this was Peter Nureyev. He was a blessing Juno had no idea how he’d been lucky enough to earn. He was that someone who listened, even after every mistake he’d made, because he loved him and wanted to hear what he had to say.

All over again, Juno was hit with the knowledge that he would burn oceans to keep Nureyev at his side. It was the least of what his boyfriend deserved.

Juno smiled, all the tension that had haunted him suddenly gone, and let his head droop onto Peter’s shoulder. “Peter Nureyev, I love you so fucking much,” he mumbled, bordering on incoherent.

Nureyev laughed and planted a kiss on the top of his head. “And I you, my dear detective.” Then, changing the tone back to business: “How about I break us out of here, then? I’m sure Buddy and the rest are long gone by now. Maybe, if I’m lucky, we’ll run into your old friend and I’ll be able to thank them for making what is possibly the stupidest mistake I have ever heard.”

Reluctantly (and not without some somewhat childish whining) Juno allowed Nureyev to pry himself from his arms and get to work. As expected, almost immediately after he was free to examine the lock, he cracked it. Juno heard the distinct pop of the tumblers as Peter opened the cell door.

“You know,” he said as they made their escape, “I didn’t know you had such an interest in being married. I suppose I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Ha, yea,” Juno murmured.

A split second passed and he continued, flustered: “Wait, what--”

#heres my first full fleshed jupeter drabble!!#hopefully there will be more where that came from haha #anyway im up at midnight doing this instead of the seventeen other things that need to get done #guess ill die #jupeter #juno steel #peter nureyev #tpp #the penumbra podcast #my writing #might get this posted on ao3 tomorrow might not who even knows anymore #if this gets like two notes imma cry but also #sometimes you just gotta be self indulgent

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