Stronger in numbers. A saying that rang true even more so on the Snowpiercer. To get extra rations, more bedding, more sanitary supplies, you needed to be name bound. Curtis was the only one willing to risk the fraud with you.
Word Count: ~3k
Notes: Only defining characteristic of Reader is that they’re American (GN Reader)
Babe: Curtis Everett
Scenario: Emotional Constipation (more so denial but whatev!)
Dialogue: “I have no idea what the future holds, but what I do know is that I want you by my side for every second of it.”
Trope: Friends to Lovers (hints of a kind of omega verse? Not outwardly stated but, like, it’s there)
For @stargazingfangirl18 Birthday bash! <3
When the world was ending all those years ago, one question you never thought you’d ask was “Will anyone care that I’m not bonded with this person I’m dating?” And you DEFINITELY didn’t think the answer was “Yes. Very much so.”
But, with little left on the Snowpiercer, genuineness was coveted. You may not be able to shower every day, or get decent rations, or even be able to sleep for longer than 3 hours at a time, but goddamn if you weren’t bonded!!
Like, never see them again, split up.
“It’s not like…” You couldn’t stop yourself from keeping your voice hushed, “It’s not like they can read our minds, right?”
Curtis was being very kind and let you voice your innermost anxious thoughts. He leaned heavily against the tiny, makeshift table, a serious look on his face as he nodded along. Curtis knew just as well as you did, it wasn’t just the “genuineness” that mattered. Partnerships were tested constantly, if you couldn’t prove over and over that you were somehow deeply biologically tied to your partner then they’d split you up.
“Right… we hardly have consistent heating, so it’d be shitty of them to keep a secret memory reader hidden away somewhere.”
His monotone joke was enough for you to crack a strained smile.
It wasn’t like you didn’t like Curtis. He was nice! He was very courageous and stood up for all of you in the Tail. But, y'know, love (or even being BONDED) was something much more than just safety.
Maybe, in another time, you’d have sought out a genuine connection with him. A connection that wasn’t overshadowed by limited time and basic necessities.
“Yes, right,” an unconvincing, breathy laugh followed, “So, to make sure I got it all right…”
You wet your lips and looked down at the imaginary timeline you’d both conjured on the table. Using the scratches in the metal as marking points you rehashed the plan.
It was simple in concept, but was laborious in reality. You’d already been setting up the ground work for weeks, maybe even months. Getting “caught” in private talking, sneaking away to the others loft late at night, sharing rations.
But that wasn’t enough to convince those who gave you supplies to give you more. Friendship was great, but partnerships were more serious. Partnerships implied stability. Partnerships implied connection. Partnerships implied power.
So, to convince even your closest friends that you and Curtis were more than that, tonight was the big moment. And the moment you were dreading.
“We get new rations in,” you glanced out, peering through the slim doorway at the sleeping cart. A cluttered mess of rags, sheets, and any form of light your community had managed to scrounge up, “three hours. We sit with the group, act all close, somehow imply something more serious is happening…”
Christ you were bad at this! And worst of all, vocalizing it was making you less confident. The table mocked you, each scratch you traced with your finger felt further from the next. Acting wasn’t your strong suit, and purposefully lying about the deep, “biologically driven” connection you had was beyond impossible.
Curtis could sense your distress. Hell, anyone with a working brain could sense it! He covered your hand with his, forcing your eyes to focus on him instead of the table, “Hey, you’re right, you’ve got the plan memorized.”
You peaked up at him through your lashes. Greeted with a tired smile, deep creases around his mouth, and crows feet that framed his blue eyes. Deep breath in, deep breath out… You nodded.
“We spend the night with company,” Curtis continued for you, “I - awkwardly - will try to get us alone, but we go to that nook that still can carry sound. I’ll make up a tangent about the before times, marriage, and regular proposing… all you have to do is say yes.”
“Right, yes.”
He said it so confidently. He was so sure it was going to be easy that you feared you’d be the entire reason this failed.
With three hours to kill, and unfortunately no work to keep you busy, you were left alone with your thoughts.
You didn’t have to lie about feeling nauseous, the knots in your stomach were very real. And with rations coming soon, no one else was in the rest lofts.
Your bed was in a different section than Curtis’ was. On the bottom of the stack, shoved to a back corner. With it just being you, you had ample privacy. Over the last few years you saved up excess fabric to make a curtain around your bunk just so you could savor every ounce of privacy.
What you really should’ve been doing was napping, but your racing mind refused.
“C'mon,” you mumbled, tossing and turning. Closing your eyes didn’t help, you still felt like you were staring straight through your eyelids!
However, if there was anything this train had taught you, it was how to wade through messy thoughts.
I can’t sleep because I’m anxious.
Easy enough to confirm. A rolling stomach, hot and cold flashes, and clammy hands. Simple diagnosis of nerves.
I’m anxious because I feel like I’m lying.
Half true. Yes, lying to your friends puts up mental barriers between you and them. But was it lying?
Lying would only be true if Curtis and I weren’t bonded.
There’s one of the biggest hurdles. Are you bonded?
That was harder to deconstruct. When you were little, your parents told you that bonding was a telltale sign that you’d met your soulmate. Or whatever other equivalent of “perfect match” other adults talked about.
Every partner you’d ever had made you think you were bonded. Your parents said it was because you cared too much, wore your heart on your sleeve, so you reasoned your devotion was something more.
When you asked what being bonded felt like, no one could explain it.
So, were you bonded with Curtis?
You cared for him very deeply, that much was clear. He helped everyone get their shit in order, stood up for others, and was fiercely protective.
And he’s cute. The little voice in the back of your mind chirped.
Yes, that was also something to consider.
With limited resources to shower or any kind of self care, it was impressive you still found anyone attractive.
Blue eyes that were the clearest window to his mind. There was a warmth there that made you dream of the beach and ocean again, not pure ice and snow.
It contrasted with the rest of him - and the train in general. Broody nature before you got to know him, grime and dirt from the lack of showers you got, and the dreary lighting on the train.
He also had a large presence. Tall, broad, big hands. Big… big hands.
Well, great.
Because you’d worked yourself up over this your body started confusing the stress with horniness.
You rolled onto your stomach and muffled an annoyed groan into your pillow.
Three hours… you just needed to wait out three hours.
It took you some convincing, but you’d managed to get out of bed and dressed nice.
As nice as possible. Your pants and sweater with the least amount of holes.
How silly it was. When you were little you sometimes fantasized about getting engaged. Maybe you’d be out at a fancy restaurant, dressed to the nines, sipping wine and gazing out the window to the bustling city alive even at night.
Maybe you’d be on the beach. Collecting shells and smelling salt as warm sand was crushed between your toes.
Maybe.
You stood in your planned spot, lingering just out of sight from one of the group cars that had a makeshift living room.
Footsteps started towards you, heavy and purposeful, and you startled at the noise. It didn’t take more than a moment to rationally calm down, it clearly was Curtis.
“Hey,” he mumbled, blocking your view.
“Hey.” You whispered in reply.
He looked nervous. His hands tucked into his pockets and he was breathing more deeply than normal. Nothing incredibly out of the ordinary, but enough for you to notice.
You decided not to point it out. Instead you peered around him, barely peaking over his shoulder. There was somewhat lively chatter, laughter faint enough to have your ears straining, but loud enough you couldn't suppress your own smile.
“Are we gonna…?” You looked at him and gestured back, “A nap helped, I’m much less nervous.” You whispered, your smile becoming a bit more sheepish in admission.
“No.” He awkwardly held his arm out to stop you, eyes growing wide. You were taken aback and stopped suddenly to avoid walking straight into his arm. Curtis softly cleared his throat and leaned down to speak softer, “I, uhm, I told them I was waking you up. Figured we’d give it enough time to let them start thinking. Yeah?”
You hummed and nodded in understanding, shuffling back enough to give you both more room.
“Guess we’re stuck here for a while then, huh?” You sucked in a breath through your teeth and tilted your head up at him.
Curtis returned a small smile, leaning against the wall next to you, “Only a little while,” he shrugged, “but you are typically a heavy sleeper.”
It was hard not to roll your eyes and grumble and pout at his teasing jab. You lightly slapped his chest and he made a dramatic, yet hushed, groan of pain.
“Ouch, beating me up? How rude.” He nudged your foot with his, you returned the motion.
“You’re being dramatic,” you grinned and peaked around the corner, faintly able to see Tanya and some of the others gathering around one of the tables.
He followed your gaze, “No, I’m serious, you probably broke a rib or two.” Curtis tried to look serious, but the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile, betraying him.
Curtis then stiffened. He shifted from calm to on edge in an instant, the clearest sign being how his pupils dilated.
He grabbed your elbow and stood stiffly straight.
“Kiss.” he mumbled, eyes flickering over to where Tanya could barely see you two from around the corner.
Without a pause, you immediately grabbed the front of his shirt and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. You’d both instigated the well timed PDA from time to time, though, Curtis was better at gauging when the more risque PDA was called for.
“One… two… three…” you softly counted, breath ghosting over his lips. The actual kiss was because you were terrible at faking one, the weird half inch gap between your faces was to keep up that illusion.
He softly laughed, you could feel his breath on your face. He didn’t move, his hand still cupping the back of your head, “Alright, we’re good, I think she saw.”
“Ok great!” You grinned and pulled back. Though your nerves were on high alert, there was no time left to worry about selling the story. Because, really, if you weren’t trapped on this train, if this was the before times, what would you have said you and Curtis were?
Sleeping in the same cot most nights. Sneaking away to have company with just each other. Sharing meals. Protecting each other. At the very least, you’d say you were dating.
He returned a thin lipped smile and slowly pulled his hands away, “Do you want me to do most of the talking?”
You opened your mouth, ready to immediately say yes. But there was an air of calmness that was settling in your bones. Maybe it was because Curtis seemed so… at ease.
“No,” you finally answered, though a little more uncertain than him, “It’s just us and some other friends… I can handle it.”
Very rarely did you all let yourselves talk about before the train. It just confused those who only ever knew of the Snowpiercer, made the oldest of you sad, and typically just made the rest of the day gloomy. Gloomier than it already was.
But Tanya must’ve been in a reminiscent mood.
“Where’d you grow up?” She cleared a spot for you to sit on a pad next to her. Edgar fidgeted with scraps of cloth, pulling apart the fibers. “Where in America?”
“Oh,” you blinked down at the floor, a little taken aback by the question. “My family moved around a bit. For a while I was in Montana, then Georgia for a few years… Right before the train I was in Connecticut.”
Curtis sat next to you, leaning back on his hands yet keeping one arm behind you. He seemed to realize it before you did, but the question rocketed you back into your own memories.
You were 16 when you got on the Snowpiercer. Living on the third floor of a historic apartment in South Central Connecticut. Just your parents and you, the youngest of your siblings and the last to go to college.
Project management… Architecture… Design… That’s what you’d wanted to do.
Cramming for the ACT, SAT, finals, and building a portfolio all before your senior year. You were gonna get a full ride and --
And there was something else. You were going to do something else. Was it with someone? You were still planning on staying in Connecticut, right? Fuck, what was it?
“Hey,” Curtis whispered and nudged you, pulling you out of the fog. You blinked, unshed tears managed to stay that way as you deeply inhaled crisp air.
You must’ve only been zoned out for a moment, Tanya was asking everyone the same questions.
Edgar didn’t know where his parents were from, Tanya herself was from Nevada, Gloria from Tennessee, others from Iowa, Kansas, North Dakota… It was crazy to think that in any other world you wouldn’t have known each other.
“Curtis?” Tanya asked, finishing up the circle.
“My parents were from Michigan, but I grew up in New York.” You mouthed the words as he said them, having memorized both states the moment he first told you.
How close did the two of you actually live? Had you ever crossed paths in those trips to New York you’d made? If your parents moved there instead, would you have been in the same high school? Studied for the same tests? Gone to the same college?
Talk of family was of course the next to follow. Living and dying on this train was one thing, but those older than you who had the chance to live in houses, rent apartments, live in a van, have kids, see grandparents, become grandparents… Their stories now seemed just as fictitious as dragons and fairies.
Gloria was engaged before the Snowpiercer, her fiance died soon into the shift. One man had just gone to his son's wedding, he never knew if they made it on or not.
You leaned into Curtis more, head against his shoulder. Luckily one woman had a lighter tale, she was one of the oldest people here, her husband and daughter made it safely and her husband died just a year or two ago. Her daughter sat next to her, sadly smiling.
“Were you bonded?” Your voice was foreign to you and it took you a moment to realize you were even the one who spoke.
The woman looked up at you, her own sad smile brightened and she nodded, “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t know any different. He was perfect. My family still is.”
Family. How sweet. Your stomach ached, you were getting hungry again. Curtis’ thumb lightly rubbed your hip bone, subtle enough to settle you. People murmured to each other, speaking a little softer now. This was always the precursor to that gloom.
Curtis cleared his throat loud enough for everyone to hear though his eyes stayed casted down at the floor.
This was it. Game time.
“Can I talk to you for a second?”
The back area was nicer. Quiet and calm. But it didn’t do enough to soothe the racing in your heart.
This was the last scratch on the table, the last tick mark you’d planned out. Anything else was up to chance.
He grabbed your hand with one of his, his other hand cupped your face.
“Hey.” He whispered with enough conviction to pull your focus, but soft enough that you could melt into his safety.
“Hey.” You echoed, feeling the waver in your voice.
“Just like we planned, yeah?” He half smiled, the faintest smile line on his cheek.
“Exactly like we planned.”
And even still, it was beyond real as Curtis knelt down.
“I wish we met at a different time,” He started to say, rolling back his shoulders and shifting on his knees, “When we didn’t have to worry about being warm or having another meal…”
For some reason you’d never fully envisioned this moment. A part of you assumed he’d just give the whole spiel, with a straight face, and slap the ring on your finger. But seeing him knelt down, holding out a makeshift wire ring, stuttering through his speech… Christ, your heart was hammering tenfold.
He cleared his throat and tried to settle his nerves with a deep breath. You could feel his anxiety radiating off of him and you wanted nothing more than to help him in some way. His thumb rubbed the wire of the ring, the glass catching stray light while he fidgeted.
You could feel tears in your eyes and you anxiously wrung your hands together, “Me too.” you mumbled.
“I have no idea what the future holds, but what I do know is that I want you by my side for every second of it.” Curtis looked down at the ring, the simple wire and glass shard he’d smoothed out. There was a conflict in his eyes, he looked back up at you with a profound sadness.
He said your name, pained and slow, “You deserve better than this…”
Your throat was dry and tight, your eyes were brimming with tears and all you could do was quickly shake your head.
“No I don’t!” You blubbered, stepping closer and grabbing his hands. At your touch, his face visibly softened and showed his age a little more. You winced, realizing how poorly that came out, “Curtis, there isn’t anything better here than you…”
You could’ve melted into a puddle right there as he smiled. A tired, but convinced smile. He stood and slipped the ring on your finger. You tipped your head up to hold his gaze.
You couldn’t explain why this closeness felt so different than any other time. The numerous kisses, hugs, and held hands was nothing compared to the way his hands delicately held you. Tight enough to keep you there, but light enough that he might’ve thought you were nothing more than a delicate flower.
Curtis’ brows pinched together for a moment. “Can I kiss you?” He whispered, fingers twitching to try and hold you tighter.
“Oh, yes, please.” You pleaded.
Air left your lungs as his lips met yours. It was tentative and slow yet you still felt that rush of electricity through your body.
In your head, you counted. One… two… No, no! You willed the analytical bullshit from your mind and just focused on the ring on your finger and his hands on your body and his lips on yours and the way you both shakily gasped for breath while maintaining the kiss.
And then you felt it.
What it was was that click in your mind. The perfect and satisfying sensation of putting two yearning pieces together.
A warmth bloomed in your chest and a buzz of electricity followed. All you really knew for certain was that it was all his doing.
Maybe, just maybe, it was a bond.
