Jamie knows she will find him there, waiting for her with a smug smile in his lips and that attitude that tells you that he knows he can win anyone over. The world is his for all she cares about, and it must be really nice to have such a high confidence in oneself... but is because of that cocky way he has of treating her that she had long removed her wedding ring, or started looking at herself in the mirror some more, or was wearing now her special underwear? Lace and crimson doesn’t really match the military style and she thought about how stupid it was to bring such a thing over to fucking space before--- now she was being grateful with her past self for allowing her to have some faith in her destiny.
She wasn’t sure about anything anymore, except for one thing: he was getting some extra attention that day from his allegedly favorite nurse. It’s been so long since she had played this game, so long since she felt wanted under such heated gaze, of having someone being completely honest about having the hots for her--- and it was just her type of men at that, too. God, how she missed having sex... was she smelling desperation all over herself?
Her head went silent when she arrived to the Med Bay and, as expected, he was there to greet her with that breathtaking smile of his. Asshole, he wasn’t playing fair, he had already won long ago. Smiling back at him, hoping Porthos couldn’t tell how nervous she was, Jamie stopped before him and lost all words she had hoped to be able to speak. She wanted to look confident, bubbly, casual, cocky as well if possible--- all she managed to look was mildly shy and stupid.
❤ five times my muse says they don’t love yours, and the one time they admit it.
i. He just had a fight with that lover of his and he seeks company on this man he has met not that long ago but that apparently is always there whenever he needs to talk to someone--- or to just stay in silence but not alone. Eliott is great company when Thomas is barely present, always too caught up in work to pay attention to his younger lover, although Jules is beginning to think that gentleness does not form part of the Commander’s nature. If he were even a little bit more like Eliott--- well, but he doesn’t love Eliott, he loves Thomas.
ii. He is laughing at the most stupid joke he heard in the longest time and he wonders how can this man spill so much bullshit with a serious face... when Eliott’s poker face cracks to give away the phantom of a smile, and Jules can almost swear his heart made a funny pirouette inside his chest... but this is not the man he loves, so that just had to be a mistake.
iii. He is now Phobos, and this is now Porthos. It’s been a long time since they used their real names outside of the security of their well deserved intimacy that they had been working on for so many months, almost years; they are immerse in this friendship that no one else can get in the middle of, that no one can interrupt, taint or damage in any way... unless it’s them the ones doing the damage. Most specifically Jules, when he had bottled enough shit to explode in an ocean of pure violence and obscenity that crashes its waves on the land that is Eliott. We hurt the most those we love the most... but the gentle giant remains gentle even when he is being insulted and attacked, never losing that softness he seems to have an endless supply of -for when he touches his friend, he turns into a trembling man again, when there was a beast now the fangs fall along with the tears and Phobos is just Jules, clinging at Eliott’s arms, to hours after tell himself the way he was feeling about him was just the weakness of the moment.
iv. He sits on that lap that seemed to have been shaped for him when the commander enters the room they are all having lunch in. It doesn’t matter much of anything, whether it bothers those that are around them, or whether it makes it hard to think, they will kiss each other tenderly while pretending love that isn’t there... or that he is so sure doesn’t exist. And in the middle of his acting -he just wants to make Cook jealous and Porthos never refused the idea, always playing along with Phobos’ games-, he thinks how good it would be if he loved Eliott instead of Thomas... but he is quick to tell himself that’s not possible.
v. He is about to break. That is exactly how he feels: fragile, vulnerable, holding a heavy heart filled with secrets he have to keep from spilling but that will eventually break his back--- and his spirit. Because he can’t help to want to kiss more each time his lips meets Eliott’s, or cry each time he looks so divine and handsome that he cannot contain this storm unleashing inside of his chest. He is a miserable man for wanting to deny the most painfully obvious thing... but he fears rejection. Sometimes selfishness is the only way, he tells himself as he gives himself to that man in front, already inside and all around him, holding Porthos’ hand and being completely honest with himself. Those three little words are too heavy on him yet he’s terrified of voicing them, but he is taking the first step and admitting it to himself first. He loves Eliott.
“Porthos! Hey man... hey, I was--- I was remembering something that I really need to ask you, ok? Mom is a very religious woman even if dad says that is pure crap, but she doesn’t care and always insist God loves dad no matter what he says? Well, the case is that she told me about Heaven, right? And I was just thinking that she told me that when people died they went to Heaven, right? And when I asked where that was, she told me it was on the sky, y’know? And I watched movies and cartoons where dead people and angels were just sitting on this really soft looking clouds with the wings and that little rounded crown kinda thing angels have? So of course, that’s the sky, AKA Heaven, right? That’s what I thought. But we aren’t on Earth anymore, you follow? So... so what then? Does this means there are Heavens in every planet? Then, how many Heavens are out there? Is every Heaven the same? Are they connected? Or are we floating in it right now since we’re out of any planet? If so, why does everything feel so shitty and dark and empty? But what terrifies me the most, what if we die? If we aren’t in Heaven and each planet have its Heaven but we aren’t in a planet and we die... where do our souls go? I asked Helios but he never said anything! What do you think, Porthos? Porthos! Hey, you listening man? I was saying that my mom always told me.......”
[Text to English Rose] - [Porthos]: SHES JUST A SMALL TOWN GIRL, LIVIN IN A LONEEEELY WORRRRRLD. SHE TOOK THE MIDNIGHT TRAIN GOING AAAAAANYWHEEEERE.
[Text to Baby Stitches]: are you drunk again? [Text to Baby Stitches]:at this hour? [Text to Baby Stitches]:without me? [Text to Baby Stitches]:i’m so breaking up with you.
For @arcturus-procyon
A little PorthosxPhobos something
Happy late Xmas
One doesn’t normally think about these things through as if planning dinner. It’s not as easy as to know what kind of dish will be cooked, pick the ingredients, follow a recipe, and eat. If it was easy like that, he’d have known first what kind of relationship he’d have wanted to have, he’d have picked him, he’d have developed the whole thing, and he’d have laid to rest in his arms.
Which he was doing, actually.
He was resting inside Porthos arms as the both of them were taking a nap.
Unfortunately, Phobos woke up a bit earlier than expected –it was normally the other one waking him up but to have such a vision of the taller navigator was a true blessing, he’d say-, and instead of selfishly get up without much of a care about whether he was waking the other up or not, he just got himself even more comfortable resting his head on the broad chest and let his mind wander. Of course that the path his thoughts decided to walk on were sort of dangerous, but now he couldn’t help himself anymore.
As the chest he was resting his head on gently moved up and down, he was completely fascinated by everything he never seemed to have noticed before about the man that had been with him for this long. Wait, had it been a long time indeed or it was just him feeling like he knew Eliott for longer than just a simple life? The important thing was that he was re-discovering a few new things about him while silence was only broken for the soft noises of his breathing.
The soft, delicate scent he had, for example. He could almost smell sandalwood, some other thing that seemed to be lemon and tangerine, citric and refreshing, among other few things that made the perfume he used, mixed with his own natural smell (definitely something that smelt like home) that only got stronger whenever he was sweating… it was amazing how used to it Jules was, and what an impressive comforting power it had on him.
The way his eyebrows twitched now and then, to accompany the small, faint movement of his lips when he was dreaming about something that Jules could never ever know unless he asked; but at the same time that meant he knew something about Eliott that not even Eliott knew himself. The small, almost imperceptible scars that he found out while he was helping him get his hair done were still there, and he wasn’t sure the taller male was fully aware of them, either. Those cute diminute half moons that this adorable boy made to himself when in the peak of his age of innocence were Phobos’ silent treasure, as he always touched them time and again whenever it seems like he’s just caressing the other man’s head absent-mindedly.
Porthos was a lot different than Phobos, and there was no question about how many people on the ship were still confused about how could them work so well together -in all means of human interaction, but also when duty called. Most of them would simply assume Porthos was being exploited just like a slave, and normally it would look like that even if after his break up with Commander Cook Phobos decided to eat his friend’s face each time the old man appeared when they were (or be really close to each other, no one wanted to be punished for inappropriate behavior during work hours), or to use the bigger male as chair on the Mess Hall -a throne worthy of his royal self. Not many times the shorter blond wondered about this situation, but he was doing it right then.
Why? Well, maybe because when all was quiet and calm, his most sincere thoughts came to float around him in the most suffocating way -that was one of the reasons he disliked to be alone so much-, his fears whispered in his ears, his doubts making him wonder about all sorts of things. Hurry up and wake up, I don’t like to be alone. But he wasn’t not really, and his heart didn’t falter as much when he could feel Porthos’ warmth comforting him. Phobos even caught himself smiling.
Under that fluorescent glow bathing most part of the room and Porthos’ face, Jules begun to notice once more how handsome that man was. Somehow it was always too easy to forget to pay attention to the most obvious things, and how even easier it was to take for granted other aspects of life itself. His heart shrank at the thought of taking Eliott’s kindness, affection, interest, friendship, patience and every other display of how amazing he truly was, his whole existence in itself, for granted. Because he did take a lot of things for granted, but that never before affected him in such as level as this sudden rush of fear running through his body.
“ Hey, wake up, Sleepy Beast. ”
The words, spoken as a secret, were followed by light touches and small butterfly kisses, gentle smiles and insistent pushes against the bigger body. Porthos finally seemed to be coming back to reality, to wake up slowly but surely, and Phobos’ breath got caught in his chest at the sight and the contemplation of something that felt like a sudden realization of a truth that had been there always, so big that it was actually quite stupid of him to ignore for so long, somthing that had to do too much with something a lot like love for his own comfort, something that he felt so strong yet so frail at the same time that he was suddenly scared of even voice it.
“ Well, that’s strange, you waking me up for once. What time is it? ”
The raspy beginning of a sleepy voice filled Phobos’ chest with a lot of protective sentiment, Porthos looked like a small child while rubing his eye with his knuckles almost, and he just couldn’t help himself when he threw himself against that man’s arms, getting caught almost automatically. Jules needed to get a grip of himself and the situation, something at the back of his head screamt that he forgot all about what he had thought of during Eliott’s endearing rest (fear was sure the deadliest weapon of them all). One cocky smile and one light kiss on his best friend’s lips did the trick as he begun the quick process of block all of those tormenting yet revealing considerations he had made only minutes ago.
“ It’s time for you to pay attention to me, of course. ”
“You’ve ‘borrowed’ my hair clippers for the last six months.”
Not that he cares. It’s just fun to needle Phobos about it sometimes. He strides in and makes himself comfortable on the bunk, stretching out like he owns the place.
“…what the hell is wrong with this pillow?”
One long, hard stare at the taller was all Phobos gave him before officially closing the clippers business without even saying a word. Porthos must have understood -he should have if he didn’t want to be bitched at-, but the shorter one just shrugged and pushed the other to sit.
“ A prank, apparently. That bitch Europa filled it with shaving cream... can you believe it? Ok so what do you want today, dear client? ”
