Palmer/Roland fic from the vault of my google doc. 2.5k words of second person POV. This is just a sappy character study that got away from me, but I just think they're neat. AO3 Link Here.
He's quiet once you've gotten your hands wrapped around him, palming the soft leather of his jacket with your fingers wrapping around to his front, feeling the give of his simulated uniform and body under your fingertips. His hands come up to grab your fingers in some search for purchase and maybe to help him adjust to the feedback as you smile down at him and move to sit on the end of your bunk. The hardlight is different now, not the same humming buzz that tickles where he touches your bare skin, but it’s still got a thrumming energy even as it simulates something so real you nearly pause to cradle him more gently.
He opens his mouth, half cocked grin at the ready when you interrupt whatever distracting quip he had prepared by dragging a finger down the fur lining of his jacket collar. You move slowly, allowing the soft texture to drag against your fingertip, moving it back and forth as you study it, study him with a discerning eye. You can't help the smirk as his face changes into something with less bravado and a little more confusion.
"You put a lot of detail into this, huh?" You whisper and tap your nail on the buckle holding all his straps together. It makes a pleasant sound so you tap it once more, humming your approval and eyeing his preening as you notice the level of detail he’s worked on. There's no parachute on his back but the rest of the harness is present and defined enough you can slip a finger under it and test the give, the hardlight moving like fabric under your touch. "Does it come off?"
He nods mutely, and then seems to remember he was putting on a show, and a smile cracks wide, big enough that his cheeks push at the leather of his cap and you think about undoing it. You think about undoing a lot of his uniform.
But there's an order to it, and you want to take your time.
He fidgets a bit, movements that have you tightening your grip slightly and you can feel how he's made himself so realistic, almost alarmingly so with the soft give of his uniform and the flesh below it, with the small fragile bones you can feel along his ribs as they expand when he breathes, to the rabbit quick beat of his heart you can feel in your palm as you hold him.
You don't want to let him go but as you stare down at him you realize two hands would make this a lot easier.
You don't give him much warning beyond a pensive hum as you decide to roll over and place him near your pillow, legs kicked up behind you as you rest on your elbows and box him in. He wavers on the uneven terrain of your bed, arms out as he wobbles off kilter for a moment.
"There we go." You murmur, eyeing his uniform again, half aware of the way you're rubbing your now empty palm that's missing the warmth of him. He crosses his arms and makes a face, but you just smile broadly, and let your teeth catch your lip while you bring your hands up to nudge his arms apart. "Gotta get this out of the way. How else will I get to see what you worked so hard on?"
You tug at his straps, lifting them a bit more than necessary, just to keep him off balance, while you undo the buckle and peel the harness off. It's so strange to see him without it on.
Next comes the scarf, another little detail you've wanted to touch. Laying the harness out with a gentle reverence so it doesn't get tangled, you return your attention to him in time to see him watching your hands.
"Still good?" You ask, tone teasing and light, even if the concern is real and only half buried.
"Yeah...yeah. What's next?" He stands straighter under your scrutiny and you point at his scarf. Instead of undoing it himself, he simply puffs his chest out and tilts his head up, both looking at you and baring his throat. The motion makes you swallow but your hands are steady as you cup him with one hand and tease the scarf loose with a single finger.
He leans against your hand as you pinch the soft fabric between thumb and forefinger, his eyes watching you focus on this one part of his anatomy. The fabric slides easily away from his throat revealing skin you haven't seen before.
You pause for a moment and then place the scarf down next to the harness. He watches you.
He's still watching from where he's leaning against your cupped hand when you bring your finger to his throat. The pad of your finger just rests lightly on the thin skin of his neck and you feel him swallow.
The moment is heavy and it passes slowly, peeling away like ice melting from a window pane and something still unspoken is clearer than it was before.
You glide your finger up from his bare throat and touch the fastener on the chin strap of his headgear, careful not to brush his mic as you lift his chin and gently, lightly turn his head from side to side.
"Like what you see?" He chokes out with a laugh when you release him.
"Yes." And then you don't explain or say anything else. The blunt honesty throws him for a loop but he recovers when you ask him to remove his cap. The buckle is too small for you, but you don't mind. Watching him undress at your request is pleasure enough. His movements are relaxed and slow and let him appear calm, but he's made himself too realistic and his heart is pounding in his chest and you can feel it from where he's still leaning against you.
The fastener clicks open, the metal buckle ringing against itself, and he lifts the protective pilot helmet off slowly, letting you see all of his face for the first time.
You take it in with a fascinated look that melts into something fond as you cannot stop yourself from smiling. He stands proud under the weight of your attention and you can make out the little tells from his avatar, small flickers of detail that show how affected he truly is.
He's given himself helmet hair, but it doesn't hide his short curling waves. You take in the way his face looks without the helmet rounding it out. His ears are cute, you allow yourself to think, as you eye the way his hair parts and small details of his complexion. The hand he’s using for support starts petting his back, your thumb moving seemingly under its own volition as you reach for his face with the other.
Closing his eyes, he presses into the touch of your fingertips as you trace lightly over his jaw once more, sliding your touch up to ruffle his hair and explore the newly revealed parts of him. Feather light touches over his cheeks garners you the sensation of stubble.
"You've done a good job with this." You murmur to him, your attention still on the feel of him in your hands. He smiles and opens his eyes as you smooth back a stray lock of hair.
The rest of your words get locked up in your throat but it's nothing new. Actions are easier. Petting the collar of the jacket once more to soothe the both of you, you pause near his bare throat again and finger the zipper.
He perks up and stands, pushing your hands away as he slowly unzips the jacket. You find yourself leaning in, eyes fixated on the sight. Vision narrowing to the movement of his hands dragging the zipper down and sliding the clothing off, you feel his eyes on you as you stare at newly revealed clothes.
These ones fit tighter to his body and let you see more of his outline. The jacket slides off his shoulders and he holds it out to you with a smile and a pose. Tearing your eyes away from the new sights and the sliver of skin peaking out from his sleeves as they ride up his arms as he moves, you cup your hand to hold the jacket.
You take your prize and gently thumb the internal lining before laying it near the scarf and harness.
He swallows when you return your gaze to him, eyes settling on his form, traveling over familiar and new sights alike. Something clicks and he settles into a more confident posture once more before exaggerating his movements as he sits on your pillow and starts undoing his boots. You rest your chin on your hand and watch as he works and looks up at you through his eyelashes.
It’s much easier to study the line of his shoulders and see his body language change with fewer layers covering him.
He kicks off his boots with a bit of flair but grabs them and hands them to you when you hold your hand out. They go next to his other clothes after you inspect them, eyes tracing the details and care he put into them.
When you look back, he’s lounging on your pillow, leg crossed and resting on a knee with his arms behind his head and a smug grin on his face as he wiggles to get comfortable.
You don’t repress the snort his pose causes but you retaliate by dragging a fingernail up the bottom of his socked foot and watch him squirm at the feeling. He falls out of his carefully constructed position and yelps as he glares up at you.
You smile and let your eyes rove over his form once more, gaze lingering on the finer details of his shirt with its buttons and the way the fabric clings and highlights his shape. Golden cloth over golden skin. Darker golden hair shadowed in its textured waves dances beneath your gaze and then your touch as you pet his head, relishing the minute details.
Pulling back, you simply watch as he sprawls out on your pillow; his glowing form sinking into the softness with a pleased look on his face.
“Comfortable?” you murmur after a few seconds, grinning as he wiggles deeper.
“Yeah.” He sighs and seems to deflate. He stretches once more and splays out on your pillow with a grin, eyes barely cracked open to watch your response. He’s trying to be a little bastard but you’re too busy taking in all the new parts of him, of this thing you’re both doing, to care too much about his antics.
He shouldn’t feel the need to act up anyway; he already has all of your attention.
You feel the corner of your mouth lift and you huff a breath as he breaks first and looks up at you. He pillows his head on his arms and watches; it’s your move now, and you try for nonchalance even as your heart races.
He smiles up at you, the cocky grin softer than usual, but it lets you know you’ve been caught. It’s a wonder that this is what makes your heart beat fast, this small moment with the anticipation for something neither of you are really sure of. This was something of a whim you both were exploring, a joke gone on too long now that you both can’t deny. He’s sitting there so small and fragile on your pillow and running the entire ship all at once; such a paradox that makes you feel so many ways you aren’t used to. Your whole world and something obviously dear but if you tried to find the words you’d never be able to. You don’t want to. Actions were always your strong suit, so instead you drag a finger up his leg.
You keep the pressure light and fiddle with the button to the pocket near his knee before moving further upwards and dragging at the last thin layer of clothing on his torso. The texture of the fabric changes and so does the amount of give beneath your finger. You ghost light touches along his sides as you explore and let the pad of your finger rest on his chest. His heartbeat matches your own, staccato fast, and you meet his eyes again.
“Put a lot of effort into this, huh? Pretty human.” You drawl in a whisper. You’ve gotten closer and quieter and you’re not sure why but you don’t want to break the tension.
“....Well,” he starts, hands coming to rest on your finger, “I’m nothing if not thorough, Commander.”
“I can tell. You do good work.” The words are barely out of your mouth when his avatar glitches under the finger you were dragging down his front. It’s a small hiccup in his holographic form but you haven’t taken your eyes off him so it’s impossible for it to escape your notice.
You freeze and he comes back together, patting your hand and apologizing. You didn’t do anything, it just seems he had a reaction to your words. Crisis averted, you smile down at him, grin showing teeth as he realizes how much he’s given away.
“You’re good now? It’s not too much if I tell you how good a job you’ve done on your avatar?”
“Commander.” He says flatly, but there’s no bite at all, especially with his shirt still ruffled and his layers gone and his heart he chose to make still racing under your touch.
“It won’t be too much if I talk about how much I like looking at you like this, or how pretty you look?” You continue, tracing the defiant look he’s giving you with your eyes as you use a finger to lift his chin.
“Palmer.”
“Oh we’re dropping rank now? So it is affecting you.” You purr and hunker down even more.
He opens his mouth and closes it again. A small pout forms and he pushes your finger away and crosses his arms. You laugh and cup one hand around him to place a kiss on his head.
He’s warm beneath the gentle give of your lips and you linger for a moment before pulling back. Leaning your chin on your free hand, you watch him fight the smile curling in the corners of his mouth and return his look with your own overly sappy grin. You don’t feel like fighting it, or hiding your fondness in this moment.
In fact, you adjust the rest of yourself in your bunk to curl up close and lay your head on the pillow next to him, softly exhaling a contented sigh as you settle and he rolls over to look at you. His smiling face, without the bravado or the cap hiding it, is so soft it makes something swell up in your chest til you feel fit to burst.
Instead you reach out, gingerly and more slowly than you’ve moved this whole time, and place your hand near his. He takes a finger in his palm immediately and you melt even more.
“Bedtime?” He chides gently, squeezing your pinkie as he asks.
Another breath leaves you, slow and calm, like you're exhaling all the air out of an overstretched balloon.
SAL 244 4-8-2 M-2 Baldwin Loco Works 1924 Columbia, SC June 14, 1942 Fourteen car, northbound train 192 - The Palmland - Jacksonville, FL to New York, NY daily George E Votava [picture 2] by Alabama Rail Archive
PRR, Newark, New Jersey, 1968 by Center for Railroad Photography & Art
Via Flickr:
Penn Central electric locomotive no. 4917, still wearing the paint of predecessor Pennsylvania Railroad, leads eastbound passenger train no. 118, the Palmland, in Newark, New Jersey, on May 2, 1968. Photograph by Victor Hand. Hand-PRR-32-090
SAL 244 4-8-2 M-2 Baldwin Loco Works 1924 Columbia, SC June 14, 1942 Fourteen car, northbound train 192 - The Palmland - Jacksonville, FL to New York, NY daily George E Votava [picture 1] by Alabama Rail Archive
SAL 242 4-8-2 M-2 Baldwin Loco Works 1924 Fairwold, SC May 10, 1942 Northbound train num 192 - The Palmland - Miami, FL to New York, NY daily George E Votava by Alabama Rail Archive
