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nureyevv · 4 years

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Eye-patch Chats

“So,” said Buddy, “Are there any questions about the plan?”

Juno tried to ignore the way she directed her gaze at him as she spoke, waiting for him to ask her to repeat herself. Sure, back when he was still adjusting to life on the Carte Blanche he’d asked some stupid questions, but plenty of time had passed since then and he was practically a seasoned criminal by now.

Ok, well, there was that one time last week when he’d forgotten what their objective was, but that was a complicated heist! And of course the time before that when he’d nearly overslept their departure…

Alright, fine, maybe this didn’t come naturally to him the way it did Buddy or Vespa or Jet or Nureyev or even Rita (honesty had she been running a side hussle the entire time she was his assistant?), but this time he understood her plot perfectly. He would not be supplying the kind of dumb comment she was expecting.

Except… he did have a question.

After a moment of silence as Buddy waited for his inevitable interjection, he gave in. At least this time he wouldn’t be asking about simple logistics that everyone else at the table seemed to understand already.

“I know the whole attire thing is your deal, Buddy,” he began, thinking back to their first mission when Buddy had put him a gaudy golden gown. She’d been right, though, he fit in perfectly, not that objecting got him anywhere anyways. “But, I was hoping we might skip the glass eye, considering last time I used a replacement I almost died getting rid of it-- no offense Big Guy.”

Jet shook his head. “No, you are correct. I did not anticipate your survival.”

“Well, isn’t that a vote of confidence,” Juno muttered.

“Oh, you should see him before getting a shot!” Rita interjected. “He gets all pale and grumpy and starts grumblin’ about how he can’t stand blood even though he was a detective and worked a bunch of murder cases and I always had to say ‘Mistah Steel, you get out of that windowsill right now and march on over to the doctor’s office--’”

“Alright, that’s enough of that!” he said, shooting her a look.

“Actually, I think we should recreate that scene,” added Vespa in a tone that made Juno very uncomfortable with the fact she was the only medic on the ship.

“That would be very humorous,” said Jet.

Before anyone else could jump on the ‘embarrass Juno’ train he decided to redirect the conversation to the topic at hand. “So is that a yes or no on the glass eye?”

Buddy considered for a moment before nodding. “I don’t foresee that causing any issues, although if it comes down to a matter of safety--”

“I’ll suck it up and wear the thing,” he finished for her. “Is there anything else or can we call it a day-- not that this whole conversation hasn’t been a complete joy.”

He glanced around the table at the others. Vespa was still smirking, proud of her contribution, while Rita seemed to be playing an intense game of charades with Jet that was either a continuation of their earlier conversation or a reenactment of a star combusting. To his surprise, Nureyev, sitting at his right, was silent. Sure, it wasn’t like him to jump headfirst into conversations like this, but he usually had a comment on the plan, at the very least.

Instead, his expression was blank. If Juno hadn’t known him so well he might have mistaken it for boredom, but experience told him that was the face Nureyev put on when he was lost in thought.

He’d have to ask if everything was alright once they had a free moment. Chances were he was just breaking down the next heist, plotting his own movements within what Buddy had already determined. Still, an unease settled in him.

“Yes, that’s all for today’s family meeting, “Buddy answered, pulling Juno from his thoughts. “I expect you each to spend the remainder of your day preparing.”

With that, she stood up and the table picked up it’s individual conversations.

He was about to use the cover of post-meeting chaos to ask Nureyev if he was alright, but was interrupted before he got the chance.

“Mistah Steel,” Rita said, having abandoned the game of violent gestures with Jet, “Why don’t I go ahead and fix that tracker in you comms. Sounds like you're going to need it for the big mission tomorrow.”

“Huh?” he said, his attention shifting over to Rita. “Oh, yeah, the tracker. Sure thing Rita just give me one sec--”

Looking back at where Nureyev had been he found that the thief had made one of his signature escapes while Juno had been distracted. It seemed that their conversation would have to wait until later.

Rita was staring at him with a curious look on her face as he returned to their exchange.

“Uh, here you go,” he said, fishing his comms out of his pocket. “Actually, I was wondering if you could show me how the tracker feature works. If it breaks on a job again I can’t necessarily rely on you to be there to fix it for me.”

“Are you sure, Mistah Steel?” she asked, a hint of a smile creeping onto her face. “Last time you asked me to explain something technology related you spent an hour tryin’ to figure out where the power button was-- and that’s not even counting the time ya spent claimin’ the screen was broken.”

“Well I’m still not convinced it wasn’t broken, but that’s beside the point,” he argued. Stupid computers and their stupid controls… “Anyways, can you just show me how the thing works.”

“If you insist,” Rita said with a shrug, “We should probably go to my room though, it’s pretty busy out here and I’ve got a hunch this’ll take a while…”

His eyebrows pulled together as he frowned.

“I won’t take that long,” he retorted, though he followed her to her rooms anyway.

***

It took the entire afternoon and a large portion of the evening to fix the tracker. Well, it took Rita ten minutes to do it and another hour to explain how. The rest of the time was dedicated to his attempts to repeat what she’d done and breaking the thing even worse than before.

At the end of the day they were both exhausted and Juno was nowhere closer to understanding how his comms worked. Hungry and brain dead, they’d decided to call it a day and grab a late dinner.

It wasn’t until he was about to retire to his room for the night that he actually had a chance to look at his comms. As Rita had not so subtly pointed out, he wasn’t exactly an expert when it came to technology, so he wasn’t particularly accustomed to receiving messages, especially now that most of the people who had any interest in speaking to him lived on the same ship.

As he flopped onto his bed, prepared to all but pass out, he decided to double check his inbox, just to be sure.

It was a surprise to find a question from Nureyev.

“Can we talk?” it read, short and sweet, which only made his stomach drop.

It was probably nothing, and yet… well that sure was a comforting message to receive from your ex-something.

It’d been sent around noon. As much as Juno wanted to crawl into bed and forget about his growing dread long enough to fall asleep, he couldn’t let Nureyev wait any longer in good conscience.

So, somehow he found himself trekking across the Carte Blanche in the middle of the night, the day before a mission. It didn’t occur to him until after he’d knocked on the door that Nureyev was probably already asleep.

He was just about to make a shameful retreat when the door swung open.

Nureyev, it seemed, was still wide awake. In fact, the other man was still dressed in the clothes he was wearing earlier that day, which made Juno a bit embarrassed of the T-shirt he slept in.

“Uh,” he began, noticing the quizzical look on Nureyev’s face. “I got your message”

Before he could get a response, though, he followed up his own statement with apologetic word vomit. “I just realized how late it is, though, and you probably have a ton you want to get done before tomorrow so I should go, right? Yeah I should go--”

He tried not to physically cringe at how awkward he sounded. Jeez, he was acting like Rita, but at least she made it charming.

But Nureyev only smiled in that easy way he did and motioned Juno inside. “Not at all. I’ll be up for another few hours anyway and all my preparations for tomorrow are complete. Please, come in.”

Juno obliged with an embarrassed nod. Nureyev followed him inside the door shutting behind him with a soft click.

“So I got your message,” he started again, rubbing the back of his neck when he realized he’d already said that. “I guess… I guess I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You were kind of out of it earlier today.”

At that, Nureyev laughed and shook his head. If Juno hadn’t been so drunk on the sound of that laugh he might have worried he was being mocked, but Peter had a way of easing tensions without saying anything at all. Or, at least he did when it came to Juno.

“I could have asked you the same thing,” he answered, matter-of-factly. “Have a seat, Juno.”

Juno did, settling into the edge of Nureyev’s cot. The other man took the space next to him.

“I suppose I was simply curious,” he continued with a shrug. “I may have no right to ask this of you considering how tight lipped I’ve been about my activities last year, but what were you all referring to this morning?”

Juno’s brows furrowed as he thought back to that day’s meeting.

“I thought you already knew I hated blood?”

Nureyev smiled again. “Yes, I do recall that-- although Rita’s recounts added more pizazz than you’ve ever let on. I was actually talking about the near death experience with Jet.”

Oh. Oh. He was talking about the THEIA incident.

“Again, you can tell me if I’m overstepping,” he added hastily. “You seemed quite open about it earlier but I don’t want to assume anything.”

Juno leaned back and turned his eyes to the ceiling. “No, no it’s ok. I was just… surprised.”

By which he meant he was shocked Nureyev cared how he’d spent the time they’d been apart. Maybe that was just his own guilt talking, though. He’d made the choice to stay on Mars-- everything that had happened with Ramses and THEIA was his cross to bear. He’d had the chance to get away, but he’d chosen not to-- telling Nureyev about it felt a bit like throwing that choice in his face.

But he’d asked, and Juno was tired of the awkwardness between them. If Nureyev wanted to know, then Juno would tell him all he could.

“I guess it’s just hard to know where to start,” he mused.

“Might I suggest the beginning?”

Juno laughed. “Yeah, that’ll work.”

It was a long story, but Nureyev was patient as Juno navigated through the last year. It felt a bit absurd saying it aloud. The person he’d been back then was something else entirely, so convinced his worth was determined by his aim or how many cases he solved.

There was something refreshing about how the memories had become distorted with time. It was proof things had changed, even if some topics were still sore. The image of Ramses dead in his office… the ghosts of his mother and brother… the fight for control against his own body. All of it still sent a chill up his spine, but he’d learned to let his past walk alongside him rather than keep him in place.

By the time he got to the end his eyelids were threatening to shut of their own accord, but he hoped his exhaustion wasn’t too obvious on his face.

“After that, Rita and I decided to leave Mars. I… I couldn’t fix the planet on my own but I knew if I stayed I would keep trying anyways,” he finished, purposely leaving out the part where his new life was interrupted by the presence of a man he’d never expected to see again… and was quite possibly still in love with.

“I see,” said Nureyev, speaking for the first time since Juno had begun, an intensity in his face Juno couldn’t quite name. “Juno, I’m so sorry.”

He looked at the other man with a sideways smile.

“Don’t be. I won’t say I’m glad it happened, because I’m not. It was really really shitty. But, y’know, I’m not proud of who I was back then, and I might still be that person if life hadn’t knocked some sense into me.”

“Yes,” Nureyev agreed. ‘Yes, I think I understand. You aren’t the same man as you were in the tomb. I must admit, I’m glad for that.”

Juno swallowed, a wave of doubt rushing over him. Nureyev was… glad he wasn’t the person he’d known. What did that mean? He was relieved to no longer be distracted? He was happy he had no reason to care for Juno anymore? Maybe he deserved it after leaving the way he did, but that was a bit harsh, wasn’t it? He’d just told Nureyev his life story and all he cared about was that whatever he’d been charmed by was gone.

Nureyev was looking at the floor now, but Juno had nothing more to fill the silence. To his surprise, however, Peter beat him to it.

“Back then, with Miasma and the bomb, we didn’t know it only affected martians. It’s comforting to know that, should a situation like that arise again, it would play out differently.”

Juno gaped at him. “Oh.”

So he wasn’t glad that Juno wasn’t the person he’d fallen for. Nureyev was just glad he wanted to live.

Unsure where to go with their conversation after that, Juno stood. “Well, it’s getting late, and now that you know the story behind my aversion to eye replacements, we should really get some rest before tomorrow.”

Following Juno’s lead, Nureyev got to his feet and moved to open the door for him. “Yes, of course. Good night, Juno.”

“G’night,” he answered as he crossed through the threshold. “--And Nureyev?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

The other man shot him a confused look. “For what?”

Juno shrugged. “Take your pick.”

***

Despite their late night, the next day’s mission went off without a hitch. Well, if you considered getting chased by the local authorities “without a hitch”, which Juno did.

The next few days were rather quiet. Buddy still required family meetings each day, but since they were a ways out from their next heist the discussions were rather concise. Juno spent most of his days somewhat begrudgingly watching streams with Rita. Anything to pass the time, he supposed.

He hadn’t spoken to Nureyev since the night they’d discussed THEIA ordeal, but Juno didn’t push it. He still wasn’t positive what sort of terms they were on. If Nureyev wanted to talk to him, Juno figured he would reach out.

He did, however, come across a small piece of fabric he’d never seen before on his bedside table one morning. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be an eyepatch-- a nice one, at that-- with a dahlia embroidered in gold on the front.

It didn’t have a gift tag or anything to reveal the identity of the sender aside for a scrap of scratch paper with a sentence scrawled across it.

“So you have something real to thank me for.”

#the first thing i write since quarantine and its sooo self indulgent #lit rally its just roasting juno and soft jupeter #maybe yall will like it tho #online school starts tomorrow so at least a got something out before then #jupeter #juno steel #peter nureyev #vespa ilkay #rita tpp #buddy aurinko #jet siquiliak #the penumbra podcast #tpp #tpp spoilers #kinda??#my writing

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