Basic Summary: Max wakes up after the first night he and his Captain sleep together and ruminates about the sky, destiny, and his Captain of course.
Pairing: Vicar Max x Fem reader/OC
Warnings: Kisses need to be warned? a bit of cuddling, implication of additional smut. They are totally naked the whole story, but they’re covered up. I just want to acknowledge it. 😃
A/n: I have been determined to finish a story, I have so many WIPs it’s embarrassing. I haven’t been able to finish a story in forever. I sat down to write something else and then word vomited this story instead. I like it, but it isn’t at all how I expected it to go. The Captain’s name is Ceony. I love her.
----------------------------
Max awoke that morning much like every other morning on the Unreliable. He always seemed to wake up facing the window in his quarters. He rather enjoyed the beauty of it. Most mornings he marveled at the dark, infinite space beyond the window. The floating rocks that seemed undisturbed by the inky vacuum of space, or the vast colors and cosmic rainbows of nearby planets’ atmospheres. He felt like a small speck adrift in the emptiness. It was so frighteningly beautiful, yet comforting, in its infinity.
This morning however quickly proved to be quite different. As he moved to roll over, he found something blocking him. There was another person in his bed spooning up to his back.
Ah yes. The captain, he remembered. Last night was quite...unexpected, but not unwanted. In fact, in the moment, there was nothing in all the galaxies he wanted more. He recalled how she looked at him and whispered, "Are you sure?" Her lips were slightly chapped from Monarch's dry air, hair both matted and stuck up after removing her helmet. A large but faded bruise span across her left shoulder to the base of her neck from a mantiqueen that was just a second faster than her dodge, and a small acid burn scar sat just above the low neckline of her tank top. She looked an absolute mess, and yet, the single most beautiful person he'd ever seen. "Yes. Absolutely." Was all he said and she was in his arms immediately.
He could barely believe it even happened. If she wasn't still sleeping in his bed, he'd have a hard time accepting he just slept with his captain. Ceony was essentially his boss. He hadn't thought himself the type of man to break such a social taboo. 'Your employer' had to be on every list of people you should not have sex with. And yet, he realized, it didn't feel taboo at all. It felt…natural, it felt right, it felt...destined.
However, he didn't believe in destiny anymore. The Plan was a fallacy. And certainly if it was real, it wouldn't allow him such a wonderful woman in his bed. His sins were too high.
Still, she was in his bed. She was sleeping soundly, pressed as close to his back as she could manage, with one arm wrapped around his waist. He smiled at the idea that maybe she slept more soundly by his side. His first few mornings on the Unreliable were met with Ceony complaining how she couldn't seem to sleep well since being thawed out. If spooning him gave her some amount of needed relaxation he was honored to provide for her. The little noises she made in her sleep were more than enough payment.
Max didn't want to disturb her, but he pushed her away enough to roll over and face her. She mumbled softly before snuggling up to him again. He couldn't stop the surge of adoration he felt seeing how snuggly she was. He knew she was a soft heart beneath the rough exterior, but a cuddler? That surprised him for a moment, until he remembered how long she'd been without physical comforts. Even if she was asleep for those seventy odd years, her body must have registered the loneliness of being locked away for so long. Lucky for her, he found himself in a rather indulgent mood. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head gently. He was content to lay here with her for as long as possible.
Long as possible, it turns out, was a very short amount of time.
Three knocks rattled his door. "Good morning Mr. Max, uh...I hope I'm not waking you." Parvati called out, soundly slightly unsure if she should have knocked at all. As far as Max was concerned, she shouldn't have.
"What is it Miss Holcomb?" Wincing at how loud his voice was so close to his sleeping captain.
"Well, have you seen the Captain? She said she'd go into Byzantium with me this morning and I can't seem to find her." He could practically hear Parvati twisting her hands nervously. "Oh she didn't go out without me did she?"
He glanced down to Ceony, debating internally if he should wake her, but it wasn't needed. Her eyes were open and she was looking up at him. "Good morning Max." she whispered.
"Good morning Captain" he responded in a quieter version of how he greeted her every morning. He felt his heart thud loudly when she smiled so sweetly at him in return. "Should I let miss Holcomb know you're here?"
She does not answer, per say, instead leaning toward to kiss him softly. Her kiss was so tentative that he found himself wanting to reassure her. As she pulled back from the kiss he surged back to her, reconnecting their lips. He smiled against her lips as he weaved a hand through her hair. He held her to him hoping this caress would relay all of his blossoming feelings for her. After a moment Ceony hummed into the kiss, her confidence blooming and she deepened the kiss and moved even closer to intertwine their legs. Their kiss felt like a conversation all it's own.
Perhaps this was her way of answering his question with a question of her own. The tentative, will he kiss me back? Does he want me still? Are we a couple or will we never speak of this again?
So of course he answered with his own kiss, I'll kiss you as much as you like, I might just want you every day for the rest of my life, I'll tell if you tell.
Parting from her, even to breathe, was a travesty, but it was worth it when Ceony called out, "Hey, P! I'm so sorry I'm running late. I had a late night here with Max. How about I meet you by ADA in fifteen minutes, alright?" He couldn't explain the amount of pride that flowed through him as she snuggled back to him. Kissing his collar bone contentedly, "Guess you got yourself a girlfriend, Maximilian. Want to celebrate with a quickie?"
He's pretty certain that Parvati tripped over her words in shock as she agreed to the Captain's request. However, he didn't pay any attention. He was far too busy pulling Ceony back to his lips. He rolled them both over so he was laying over her. How convenient they were both still naked. They didn't have much time after all.
Max always had thought the infinite darkness of space was beautiful. He's convinced now that the most beautiful entity in the galaxy is his Captain as she writhes beneath him panting his name like a montra, her legs hooked around his hips, her finger rubbing herself as he slides so perfectly in and out of her with a passion he hadn't thought himself capable of. But Ceony had always had a magical way of pushing him past his perceived limits. And Law, he was forever thankful for that. For her.
This just kind of came to me, and it's probably massively ooc but I really don't care at this point. I'm releasing it into the wild.
Eclipsing
Many and many a year ago, in a place that no longer exists (the way that anything can cease to be with enough change and time), there was the Sun.
He was old, and wise, unchanging and unflinching from the graveness of his responsibility. He walked across the world every day, never stopping to look back, never bothering to look around, only ever staring forward as he marched along. That was all he needed, a path forward. Occasionally, something might block the path, and he would grow angry. Nothing had the right to stand in his way, his logical purpose, his perfect plan, and as he paced around the roadblock, his anger would only grow.
Eventually, his ire would build so much that whatever blocked him would melt in his heat. With the interruption removed, the Sun would continue along his path. So it went for millennia.
Many and many a year ago, in this place that now is gone, there was the Moon.
She was young and full of life, but inconsistent. She was happy and sad, wise and naive, changing but ever-present. She had a path to follow as well, around the world and back, but instead of a march, she slipped and danced. A roadblock was merely an opportunity to see what else she could do. She gazed in every direction, noted her past and made wishes for her future.
The Sun and Moon were gods, then, energy and matter taking shape and shaping the universe in turn.
He was logic and science and certainty, a god of intellect, of cleansing fire.
She was compassion and curiosity and superstition, love and hard-learned wisdom. A goddess of water.
The Sun had never met the moon, and lived his whole life believing himself the highest creature above all, looking down at everything. He was firm and assured, set in his purpose. His followers sought to find their own straight and narrow path, though he cared little for them nor anyone else.
The Moon had never glimpsed the Sun, but knew much of him. He was confident and surefooted, with self-control she could never match (or so it seemed to her, for she had never beheld him in his faults). She did her best to reflect his light, but he never once looked her way. She only heard what his followers whispered when she came across them, playing with her own friends, dancing among the waves and tides.
But in her dallying, the moon began to lag further behind, and soon there was no light at all. The goddess fell into a deep slumber, her warmth and energy gone.
The Sun took no notice that anything had changed, until he heard a mournful wail. He normally would not pause his walking, but something struck him. Perhaps his logic was giving way to curiosity, and he bent down to listen.
"Where, oh where, is our moon? There is no light to save us in the darkness of the night, and we are led astray by those who would do us harm!"
This was intriguing. A light in the dark? He had never heard of such a thing. It was a contradiction, even. If there was light, there could surely be no darkness.
"You talk in riddles. Away with you," he grumbled, and the little creatures fled from his brilliance and heat.
He began once more to walk on his path, but could not help feeling the was was no longer straightforward. It was as though doubt had crept in.
Was there another like him? Someone who walked the world as he did? How could he not be certain either way?
In his wondering, he tripped. A rock had been in his path, and he had not immediately noticed. How very odd, and very upsetting. But he did not feel his rage begin to burn around him, not as he had before. Instead he felt that terrible curiosity. Where had the rock come from? Surely it didn't just grow from the ground. It was minerals all bound together, inorganic yet natural.
For the first time, he looked around, and saw there were many rocks. There was water, too, and dust. There was an entire world beyond his path, and now that he had seen it, he couldn't help his curiosity growing.
Then he saw the Moon.
He was unsure at first of what she was, just that she was there and she was lovely. She lay asleep in a sea of blackness, and the only reason he spotted her at all was the reflection of his own light that she gave. In her, he also glimpses himself for the first time.
He was an old man. Not so old as to be elderly, nor senile, not old enough to worry for his life closing, but vastly older than he realized. He was clothed in robes of blue and gold, and he had hair of multiple colours, light and dark, laying neatly on his head. He glimpsed his eyes, once so cold and narrow, now open wide, and he realized he had never known they were blue.
He pulled himself back from the reflection, and knelt beside The Moon. She was unlike anything he had met before. She was new to him, yet had an air of someone or something that had existed for eons. She was nearly peaceful in her slumber, but something tugged her eyebrows down and curled her lip, and the Sun became… concerned?
He reached his hand to wake her, but pulled away as before he could touch her skin, realizing that he might burn her, as he had everything else he had ever encountered.
Was it worth it to hurt this lovely creature to have a conversation?
Was it right to spare momentary pain and leave her locked in a nightmare?
He settled for tearing a strip off his cloak, and wrapped it around his hand. He gently caressed the Moon's hair, and she began to stir. She opened her eyes slowly, and they were brown, deep and dark, nearly a void unto themselves.
She smiled, then, and he could scarcely catch his breath. He had never been one to care about what lay beyond himself. How could one person change so much about him without any direct words?
But he felt himself change indeed, his own near-permanent scowl softening into an expression that mimicked hers, and he nearly forgot his hand on her face, until she gasped and he pulled away. He had left a mark upon her fair skin, and he began to run away lest he hurt her anymore.
"Wait!" She cried, and began to run after him.
He could not bear the thought of damaging his Moon any more, and so he continued his pace.
So it went for a time, he ran away, and she ran to catch up, both aware of the other, his light continuing to reflect off of her. Sometimes he would gain speed, and she would fall behind, and his reflection would dim.
One day, after what seemed like a millennia, he fell again, tripping once more over the rock that had led to their meeting, and she caught up with him.
"Please," she murmured, voice hoarse from her efforts, "Don't leave me again."
The mark he had left upon her face had healed, and he found she was no less beautiful. He still felt guilty, but her smile began to heal it within him.
"I've waited so long to meet you. Please. Stay a while."
He couldn't deny her.
The Sun and Moon sat a while, and talked of everything they could think of. Life, death, chance, fate, everything and nothing, until they both began to tire. The Moon fell asleep first, and leaned into the Sun's warmth. The Sun tried not to touch her, but her cool skin felt amazing on his own. So they slept, safe and sound in each other's arms, and when they woke they found they had left marks on each other, but none hurt, and all were their own kind of beautiful.
So it became their dance. He led the way across the skies, and she followed, sometimes passing over him, sometimes letting him get ahead. Every so often, they stopped at their rock and rested.
Eventually, much more came of their union, and points of light littered the skies in beautiful patterns, his heat and light and her curious creativity.
They continue this dance even now, though the place they once loved is changed so much, free and focused, he now more open to what was around, she more constant in her path.
