“a lingering kiss before/after a long trip apart” for holden/amos 🥺 maybe a drabble or something!
Holden was acting jittery.
That wasn’t anything new. Hell, it was closer to his natural state than calm Holden was. But it also meant he probably wanted to say something and didn’t know how to say it, or found something new to stress about and was tearing himself up for it. Amos had no clue why he’d put himself through that. But then again, there were many things that others did and he didn’t understand.
“Just spit it out, Cap,” he said when he finally got enough of Holden pacing up and down the galley.
A part of him hoped that this whole thing didn’t involve him changing his mind about Clarissa. Hoped. Shit, that was new.
At least, that’d pulled him out of it. But he, still, wouldn't say what he was thinking. He was avoiding eye contact, which wasn't as usual with them, and it bothered Amos how he couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing.
When Holden, finally, did speak, his voice came out shaky. “When the rocks hit Earth, I knew logically if there was anyone that would survive it’d be you,” he exhaled sharply and only now, dared to look him in the eyes. “But every day that passed without contact, not knowing if you are dead or alive…”
Amos wasn't entirely sure why Holden was putting himself through this. Things had sucked, and being away from the crew had affected him more than he could have imagined but it was over. They were back. Most of them, anyway. There was no point in digging into those painful memories.
Although, he'd learned a while back that it was better to let Cap talk it out. It wouldn't be the first time he freaked out over Amos nearly dying. So, he listened.
“I tried to push it aside because there were a million other things to worry about and I couldn't do anything about it. But seeing you again brought it all back and,” he cut himself off like it was hard to say. The look Holden gave him reminded him of Ilus. Desperate and pained and Amos wanted to wipe it off his face immediately.
“I don't know what I'd fucking do if I lost you.”
As soon as Holden said the words, he grimaced because he felt like an asshole. Alex's death felt like a cave inside him, but even the thought of losing Amos or Naomi made it near impossible to breathe. Losing them would be like losing parts of himself. And the guilt for even feeling that made the cave bigger.
Now he didn't have the distraction of the protomolecule he was chasing all the time they were apart. And every feeling he'd tried, as much as he could, not to feel all this time apart, came rushing to him all at once.
The lump in his throat had returned and kept growing inside and he feared it'd slowly swallow him whole.
The hand on his shoulder nearly startled him. He hadn't noticed when Amos had crossed the distance between. But the touch was enough to ground him some.
“You won't lose me, Jim. 've told you before, I'm the last man standing."
Jim. That only ever came up if either of them were about to die. Or if Amos wanted to please him.
“You almost never call me that," Holden argued weakly, betting it was the latter and trying not to focus on everything he spilled out prior.
He still felt his heart nearly beating out of his chest, but instead of the loss and helplessness, he tried focusing on Amos' steady presence. On the way his muscles flexed when he touched him, the short distance between their bodies, and his intense blue eyes that searched every inch of his face.
The exact moment his gaze briefly lowered to his lips.
Suddenly, Holden leaped forward, crushing his lips against Amos in a desperate manner. He could've died. Amos could've died and Holden could've lost him.
The fragility of it all, always hit harder in the moments before. This was the first time he felt so frantic after.
Amos reciprocated, pulling him flush against him and kissing him with the same intensity.
Moment by moment his anxiety faded with Amos's tight hold on him. The grip on his shirt and hip was nearly tight enough to hurt, his steady torso against Holden's, and the feeling of those soft lips he loved so much against his, grounded him like nothing else.
Every time he felt like he was about to float away, Amos grounded him better than mag boots. He didn't know if it was the fact they were both from Earth that did it. It's not like they had similar life experiences anyway. So Holden was inclined to think it was just who the mechanic was.
His best friend, his rock, his… lover.
Funny how he'd describe Naomi the same way. He needed all of them like he needed air.
The part of his heart that belonged to Naomi had come back weeks ago. The other that Amos had, was just now returning after all that separation. Brought back by their closeness.
His lips lingered, catching up on all the contact they'd been missing. It wasn't like their usual ones. Sure they'd kissed desperately and passionately before, but they'd been fast, hungry kisses chasing their need to touch each other.
Now that the desperation had faded, it seemed like neither of them wanted to pull back and be separated from each other again. That was new, and Holden wanted to take advantage of every second of it.
His arms wrapped around Amos's shoulders in a last attempt to prolong their touch and the contact was burned into his brain. Amos was here, alive, home. Not everything was lost. He could breathe again.
When they eventually pulled back, Holden's eyes took a minute to flutter open.
“I'm right here,” Amos said softly, patting Holden's side. He took it as a sign to pull back from the embrace. They'd already been holding on to each other longer than Holden expected, anyway.
“Welcome back,” Holden breathed out, this time laughter shaking his voice instead of anxiety, almost as if he said something ridiculous and the sanest thing he'd ever uttered at the same time.
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